Faye Valentine had been on that ship with smelly old Jet Black and incompetent Spike Speagal for several months now. At first, she wasn't wanted, and now, she still wasn't wanted. Getting fed up with her current situation, she decided to make the best out of it.
She went out and got drunk.
Walking back to the dock to the waiting ship, Faye swayed to and fro, her drunken stupor keeping her in a giggling fit. Tripping suddenly, she landed on her face, the credits in her purse jangling as they fell out, scattering all over the dock floor.
"Fub." Faye commented as she swayed to her knees. Crawling around, picking up her credits, she failed to notice or hear approaching footsteps. Suddenly clutching her head, she slowly lowered herself to her side, laying her now throbbing head on the cold pavement. Two polished, yet scuffed and old shoes stopped in front of her. Faye raised her head slightly in an attempt to see who it might be, but got as far as blue pant legs, and lowered it back down, wincing as her eyes tried to focus.
Pulling his pant legs up slightly so he could squat down, Spike took a drag off his cigarette and slowly blew it out, his uncombed brown hair falling into his face as he brought his head low. Smiling mischviously at the painfully drunk Faye, he took his cigarette out of his mouth and ashed it onto her nose. She raised her head slightly to sneeze.
After raising a trembling hand to brush the rest of the tobacco soot off her nose, Faye forced her eyes to focus and looked up to see who DARED to do such a thing to a poor, sick, innocent girl, such as herself. She blinked rapidly, telling herself to stop seeing things, that it wasn't Spike gloating at her like some Cheshire cat, and that it was some other ship owner. Maybe a dock worker, ANYONE but Spike!
Spike watched with smug satisfaction as Faye groaned in agony, at both her headache and the fact that HE was the one who found her. Placing his cigarette back in his mouth he reached down and grabbed her arm.
"Get up, you look like an idiot." He mumbled around his cigarette. Faye inwardly cringed at her lack of ability to slam a fist across his too-perfect-for-words jaw. Leaning heavily on him, Faye allowed herself to be led back to the ship.
"At least you're good for something..."she muttered. Finding that speaking hurt too much, she lowered her head, putting the palm of her hand to her forehead. Chuckling, Spike cast her a sidelong glance. "I'm good for a lot more I'll have you know." They entered the ship. He walked her to the couch, releasing her. She flopped to a sit heavily, his last sentence racing across her head. Good for what? She wondered to herself. Dismissing the thought, but not forbidding it from returning, she took the ice pack that Spike had fetched without her knowing.
Sitting down in the chair across from her, lazily stretching one of his long legs over the arm and blowing out a puff of smoke, he watched with amusement as a bevy of emotions played across Faye's face.
"You know, you should be grateful that I went out and found you. You could be in some hotel room right now, playing horizontal hokey poky with some dirty old dock worker." He grinned, leaning his head back, taking another drag off his cigarette, waiting for Faye's retaliation. When non came, he looked up at her. "Hey, did you hear me?" he blinked a few times. "What's wrong with you, you sick or somethin?"
Faye's eyes had suddenly glazed over, and she was staring at Spike with an expression that wasn't supposed to exist in the Faye Book of Emotions. She rose slowly and walked over to him. Spike lifted an eyebrow at her, wondering what the hell was going through her beer filled head. She stood over him, as if she expected something.
"Oy....Nandero ga?" he questioned, swinging his leg from over the chair arm and to normal sitting position. He took one last drag off his cigarette before putting it out on the chair arm.
Feeling slightly detached, Faye pulled Spike up, intently looking into his eyes. Spike just stared back with a look of 20% bewilderment, 50% cluelessness, and 30% confusion. A coy smile suddenly drawing across her face, Faye raised her arms and wrapped them around his neck, bringing her cheek to rest against his.
"Spike-Kun...." she whispered in her best seductive voice, "take me." Spike pulled away from her, wondering what exactly it was that she had to drink.
"Take you where?" he asked, fully confused. Faye dropped her arms back to her sides and frowned. Raising a hand again, she traced a line across his cheek. "I want you to have my peach..." she murmured, trying again. Spike blinked a few times until something registered.
"All right, if you really want me to..." Spike said turning away. Good. Faye thought, shutting her eyes, waiting for him to do something.
"Oy, there's no peach in here." Spike called from the kitchen. His voice was muffled by the refrigerator he'd stuck his head into, searching for the elusive peach. Fayes eyes snapped open in a look that belied on shock, anger and embarrassment. She stalked into the kitchen, now determined, drunk or not, to get at least a small "rise" out of him. Walking up to him, she tugged on his arm, and put his hand against her cheek.
"No, my cherry..." she said more insistently. Pulling his hand away, Spike frowned and looked into the fridge again, pulling out a jar of maraschino cherries.
"If you say so. And here I thought these were Jet's." Popping one of the cherries into his mouth, Spike walked out of the kitchen, turning the light off on her. Now in the dark, Faye clenched and unclenched her fists, seething. How can that man be so dense??? She fumed, her hangover headache now forgotten. Stomping out of the kitchen, Faye walked up behind Spike and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, just as he tossed another cherry into his mouth. Munching on it he looked at her, raising his eyebrows.
"What?" he asked. A second later, Faye's fist decked him across the jaw, blackness following.
A few minutes later, Spike woke back up, raising up to a sitting position and rubbing his jaw. He looked at his hand, which somehow had miraculously kept the cherry jar from spilling. Faye had apparently taken off for her room. Grinning mischievously once more, he ate the last cherry in the jar, then poured the cherry syrup into Ein's dog bowl.
It had been a pleasant night indeed.
But it still baffled him as to where Faye wanted him to take her.
END
She went out and got drunk.
Walking back to the dock to the waiting ship, Faye swayed to and fro, her drunken stupor keeping her in a giggling fit. Tripping suddenly, she landed on her face, the credits in her purse jangling as they fell out, scattering all over the dock floor.
"Fub." Faye commented as she swayed to her knees. Crawling around, picking up her credits, she failed to notice or hear approaching footsteps. Suddenly clutching her head, she slowly lowered herself to her side, laying her now throbbing head on the cold pavement. Two polished, yet scuffed and old shoes stopped in front of her. Faye raised her head slightly in an attempt to see who it might be, but got as far as blue pant legs, and lowered it back down, wincing as her eyes tried to focus.
Pulling his pant legs up slightly so he could squat down, Spike took a drag off his cigarette and slowly blew it out, his uncombed brown hair falling into his face as he brought his head low. Smiling mischviously at the painfully drunk Faye, he took his cigarette out of his mouth and ashed it onto her nose. She raised her head slightly to sneeze.
After raising a trembling hand to brush the rest of the tobacco soot off her nose, Faye forced her eyes to focus and looked up to see who DARED to do such a thing to a poor, sick, innocent girl, such as herself. She blinked rapidly, telling herself to stop seeing things, that it wasn't Spike gloating at her like some Cheshire cat, and that it was some other ship owner. Maybe a dock worker, ANYONE but Spike!
Spike watched with smug satisfaction as Faye groaned in agony, at both her headache and the fact that HE was the one who found her. Placing his cigarette back in his mouth he reached down and grabbed her arm.
"Get up, you look like an idiot." He mumbled around his cigarette. Faye inwardly cringed at her lack of ability to slam a fist across his too-perfect-for-words jaw. Leaning heavily on him, Faye allowed herself to be led back to the ship.
"At least you're good for something..."she muttered. Finding that speaking hurt too much, she lowered her head, putting the palm of her hand to her forehead. Chuckling, Spike cast her a sidelong glance. "I'm good for a lot more I'll have you know." They entered the ship. He walked her to the couch, releasing her. She flopped to a sit heavily, his last sentence racing across her head. Good for what? She wondered to herself. Dismissing the thought, but not forbidding it from returning, she took the ice pack that Spike had fetched without her knowing.
Sitting down in the chair across from her, lazily stretching one of his long legs over the arm and blowing out a puff of smoke, he watched with amusement as a bevy of emotions played across Faye's face.
"You know, you should be grateful that I went out and found you. You could be in some hotel room right now, playing horizontal hokey poky with some dirty old dock worker." He grinned, leaning his head back, taking another drag off his cigarette, waiting for Faye's retaliation. When non came, he looked up at her. "Hey, did you hear me?" he blinked a few times. "What's wrong with you, you sick or somethin?"
Faye's eyes had suddenly glazed over, and she was staring at Spike with an expression that wasn't supposed to exist in the Faye Book of Emotions. She rose slowly and walked over to him. Spike lifted an eyebrow at her, wondering what the hell was going through her beer filled head. She stood over him, as if she expected something.
"Oy....Nandero ga?" he questioned, swinging his leg from over the chair arm and to normal sitting position. He took one last drag off his cigarette before putting it out on the chair arm.
Feeling slightly detached, Faye pulled Spike up, intently looking into his eyes. Spike just stared back with a look of 20% bewilderment, 50% cluelessness, and 30% confusion. A coy smile suddenly drawing across her face, Faye raised her arms and wrapped them around his neck, bringing her cheek to rest against his.
"Spike-Kun...." she whispered in her best seductive voice, "take me." Spike pulled away from her, wondering what exactly it was that she had to drink.
"Take you where?" he asked, fully confused. Faye dropped her arms back to her sides and frowned. Raising a hand again, she traced a line across his cheek. "I want you to have my peach..." she murmured, trying again. Spike blinked a few times until something registered.
"All right, if you really want me to..." Spike said turning away. Good. Faye thought, shutting her eyes, waiting for him to do something.
"Oy, there's no peach in here." Spike called from the kitchen. His voice was muffled by the refrigerator he'd stuck his head into, searching for the elusive peach. Fayes eyes snapped open in a look that belied on shock, anger and embarrassment. She stalked into the kitchen, now determined, drunk or not, to get at least a small "rise" out of him. Walking up to him, she tugged on his arm, and put his hand against her cheek.
"No, my cherry..." she said more insistently. Pulling his hand away, Spike frowned and looked into the fridge again, pulling out a jar of maraschino cherries.
"If you say so. And here I thought these were Jet's." Popping one of the cherries into his mouth, Spike walked out of the kitchen, turning the light off on her. Now in the dark, Faye clenched and unclenched her fists, seething. How can that man be so dense??? She fumed, her hangover headache now forgotten. Stomping out of the kitchen, Faye walked up behind Spike and tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, just as he tossed another cherry into his mouth. Munching on it he looked at her, raising his eyebrows.
"What?" he asked. A second later, Faye's fist decked him across the jaw, blackness following.
A few minutes later, Spike woke back up, raising up to a sitting position and rubbing his jaw. He looked at his hand, which somehow had miraculously kept the cherry jar from spilling. Faye had apparently taken off for her room. Grinning mischievously once more, he ate the last cherry in the jar, then poured the cherry syrup into Ein's dog bowl.
It had been a pleasant night indeed.
But it still baffled him as to where Faye wanted him to take her.
END