Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop. If I did there would have been more episodes. But such is the way of things. Here's my contribution for Valentine's day, all my love, Gabriel. TREAT ST.PATRICK'S DAY LIKE A REAL HOLIDAY!

Custard Pie and Valentines

She was stretched out on top of the Redtail rain beating along her skin. Funny thing that it would rain that day. Edward had scrounged up her some vintage Zeppelin and she could lose herself to the music, 'til every song reminded her of him. She could feel the cold settle into her chest, and hear her cigarette sizzle out. Odd really, that it would rain today. Beautifully sad. Goose bumps rose along her skin and she ignored them. Her heart rested still in her chest, barely beating as she stared into the oblivion of dark cloud, and cold rain. The tiny droplets rolled off her face, whatever make up she had worn vanished into the blue dreams. Butterfly thin lids fell over travesty written eyes and a sigh brushed sweet rose lips. A dozen, two dozen, an apology. She had put them down the garbage disposal. All except one, which lay between her breast, thorns catching on her white tank top. Strange that he would say I'm sorry. Somewhere on the planet below there had to be more roses, sitting on a grave she loved to loath. His and hers. For in all reality she knew she had died with him that day. Strange strange. Maybe that was all there really was for her, the cold rotting dirt around her body. A tiny smirk pulled at her lips, morbid thought. Her fingers traced tiny designs on the rough metal of her ship and she sighed. Maybe she could just die, be free of it. The petals of the rose left dark smudges and as crushed it in her chilled hands. Stupid bastard.

"Faye-Faye! Valentine's for Faye-faye! Custard Pie for Faye-faye!" a spark of red head in the gray and Faye's trigger finger twitched, snarl curling her lip for a moment, then she let it slid.

"Ye'h Ed?" she asked, sitting up and dropping off the roof. "What is it?"

The red headed demon somersaulted over to her, CD case in her mouth. "Mwah ha!" she cried jumping up and waving her spaghetti noodle arms around. "Custard Pie! Mustard My!" Faye nabbed the CD as the girl rolled by.

"Physical Graffiti Edward. That's the CD." She whispered, and took one long last look at the skies. "Where Spike?"

"MARZIPANE!"

Faye rolled her eyes and lit another cigarette, tossing the spent butt of her last into the bay. "I can't stop thinking about love. About my baby." She mumbled, "Come on Ed." Pale fingers caught the girls arm and dragged her out of the rain.

He sat leaned against the cold granite, staring at the skies and wondering, roses bouncing gently against his thigh, such was truly the way of things. Traveler of both time and space. He shifted, rising off the earth like some ill made poppet. The blood red stood out against the cold wet green and he thought of her. Those eyes shinning with tears. He crouched before the stone, fingers tracing over the letters there. Strange that it would rain that day. This day. It had been raining then too. The last time he'd stood before her with roses. A sigh brushed the air, gentle as her fingertips. It was strange really, how much he had loved without loving at all. He should have made her stay, should have done something. So he blew up a building, killed a thousand demons and bathed in their blood. Another sigh. Strange that it would rain today. Long calloused fingers played across the petals and he sighed. He'd hold her again tonight, like so few others. Clinging to her warm body in the chill of his own soul. The stone was cool under his lips and he stood, wandering back out of the much silenter town. The skies were dark above him, thunder roaring its challenge to the lightening that blaze around him. To be where I have been. He thought about her for a moment, watching her face through the vision of anothers. Purple of pale gold, blue and green fading into dark teal. Then the image was forgotten, lost to something he couldn't name. Nicotine hitting like a jeweler's hammer, splitting him at his flaws. Another sigh. Cold rain trailing down the back of his neck. "Shangri-La beneath the summer moon." He whispered and fell into the oblivion of the rain.

Rain beat at the window panes, singing endlessly around the wayward paper hearts melting in the gutters. Tomorrow it would all be right again, the world flipped right side up again, but for now it was just Custard Pie and Valentines in the arms of the only man she could ever love.

Happy Valentine's Day. G.M.