i'm at it again! this time, things are set to shakira's song "don't bother". basically, this little one shot is about faye. she's having a bit of a crisis: her self-confidence is dangerously low after meeting julia, and this is her struggle to get back into her normal, passive frame of mind. i don't think this is my best work, to be honest. it's a little confusing to me. i wanted to be vague in the bebop sense, but i'm not sure if i accomplished that. let me know, i guess. just nothing harsh, please. other than that, read and enjoy!

oh yeah, and there's a part towards the end where faye says something to herself in the mirror. this is actually a part of the song, but since it's spoken in the song, i changed some of the words around to make it fit faye. the original words are: "for you, i'd give up all i own. and move to a communist country, if you came with me, of course. and file my nails so they don't hurt you. and lose those extra pounds and learn about football, if it made you stay. but you won't, but you won't." so, keep an eye out for that, i gues...okay, now really...go read!

She's got the kind of look that defies gravity.

Faye found herself perched on the sink in the Bebop's bathroom, staring into the slightly foggy mirror. All throughout her shower, there was only one thing that she could focus on…

"Julia," she said as she traced that name on the reflective glass.

From the moment she met her, Faye knew that Julia was a special kind or ordinary, an exotic type normal. Even though it was a brief encounter that was had between the two, Faye felt as if she could decipher everything that the so called 'mysterious' woman was about.

She was simplistic, with her long, golden curls. She was average, with her crisp, blue eyes, shaded behind tinted lenses. She was typical, with her ruby red lips. Her name was quite common, just as she had said. Faye scoffed at it all. To her, Julia was an absolutely, one hundred percent, run of the mill woman. Nothing exceptional to distinguish herself from anyone else.

But as Faye stared at herself in the still misty mirror, she resigned herself to the fact that that's what made Julia perfect.

She's the greatest cook,
And she's fat free.

Leaning in closer to the mirror, Faye tried to discern whether or not her features stood out as plainly beautiful as Julia's did. She pulled her eyes wide and stared into the emerald depths. Her eyes were too exquisite to be so special. She opened her mouth up wide and stuck her tongue out. Then she inspected her teeth. To Faye's dismay, she found she had a slight overbite. From what she could recall, Julia had the perfect, brought to you by a dentist, smile. Her flaw would never allow her to attain the simplicity that Julia had.

Frustrated with herself and her sudden lack of self confidence, Faye dislodged herself from the countertop and put some much needed space between her and that damned mirror. But her poise still screamed to be tested.

She dropped her towel and studied her body in the mirror. Faye fully understood that she had a body to die for. Any woman would sell a portion of her soul to have Faye's assets, while any man would completely give his up in order to have just one taste of her flesh. But 'any woman' would never include Julia. In her less than feminine clothing, Julia had still been fashionable, had still been some kind of sexy. And by 'any man', well, a certain fuzzy-headed cowboy surely wasn't 'any man'. And that could be why Spike's soul was still in tact. That, or he never had one to begin with.

Jabbing aimlessly at her taut stomach, Faye frowned lightly at the lack of definition there. Sure, her midsection got a lot of airtime, and yes, it was nice to look at, but there was no muscle that she could see. Turning to the side, Faye could have sworn that her butt was sagging, oh so slightly. When she turned to the other side to get a second opinion, things seemed firmer. Perhaps she was just imaging things now.

Faye then put her arms out and shook them, trying to judge if she had any unsightly jiggling, a la a grandmother. Everything appeared solid, all was kosher. Faye figured that she looked fine, she thought that her body was in wonderful, tip-top shape, but she couldn't help but wonder if Julia was hiding a knockout physique under those man-clothes.

"Well, I think I look good, at least," Faye muttered to herself.

She reached down for her towel and readjusted it around herself. Pulling her robe around her, she slid on her slippers and prepared to exit the room.

"But I bet Julia doesn't have an ounce of fat on her, the anorexic bitch."

Leaving the bathroom behind, Faye could faintly smell the less than enticing scent of beefless bell peppers wafting through the air. She made a gagging face, considering that Jet couldn't see her, and hurried to her room before he did.

"And I bet she knows how to cook, too."

She's been to private school,
And she speaks perfect French.
She's got the perfect friends.
Oh isn't she cool?

Once safely tucked away in her cell of a room, Faye made her way to her dresser and began to ramble through the drawers. Silly thoughts continued to run through the vixen's head, not a one of them overly inspired.

'She's so prim and proper,' Faye thought to herself as she pulled on a pair of boxers she had found in the laundry room.

'She sure knows how to shoot a gun, too. I doubt they teach that in private school," she mused as she pulled on an old t-shirt, which she had also found in the laundry room.

Sitting on her bed, fully aware of whose clothes she was wearing, Faye let out a sigh and ran a delicate hand through her damp hair.

It wasn't that Faye hated Julia, not by any stretch of the word. In all actuality, Faye found that she, in fact, liked what little bit of Julia she was privy to earlier in the day. But it was the fact that Faye did like her that created this illusion of hatred for the woman.

If Faye was looking for an honest answer – and she really wasn't – then she could easily see that her conflicted feelings all stemmed from one, all too typical source. Spike Spiegel. If he wasn't a part of the picture, and if this whole syndicate debacle wasn't happening, then Faye supposed that friendship would have been a feasible option.

"No, it's not," she said aloud, almost offended by her new train of thought. "I would never be cool enough to hang around her. She's the grade-A stereotype for the leader of the popular girls. Knowing my luck, I was probably her number one enemy back in high school."

Faye scrunched up her nose and slapped herself lightly on the cheek. What was she thinking? For the first time in a long time, Faye found herself actually craving approval. Okay, so maybe it wasn't the first time in a long time, but still. After surviving on her own for three years, being thrown onto a ship of misfits only served to soften her, so it seemed.

For a moment, it disgusted Faye, the need to be accepted and all. But once that feeling melted away, all she was left with was her loneliness. Christ, she hadn't doted on that subject in a while. It was so uncanny that a mid-afternoon shoot out/high speed chase could educate Faye on just how empty she felt. She was no Julia. She was no perfect angel. No one would willingly die for her. And no one would miss her if she was gone.

She practices tai-chi,
She'd never loose her nerve.

Trying desperately to push those thoughts from her mind, Faye went back to the afternoon she had had. If it where her in those circumstances, you could bet you sweet ass that Faye would have lost her cool, shot everything that moved, and probably ended up getting caught after all of that. She wasn't as good under pressure as she had hoped to be. Julia, however, acted as if she could have sung show tunes at the time; she was that okay with the situation. Faye had to wonder if getting shot at was a normal occurrence in the blonde's life.

It was only after the bullets had stopped and the chase had ceased, that Faye began to calm down. A seaside cigarette continued to put her body at ease. But the whole entire time, Julia never broke a sweat, never missed a beat. And for some reason, Faye admired that. And secretly, she envied that, as well.

Such an awkward feeling was overtaking Faye then. Envy wasn't something she was akin to experiencing. Sure, there where many things that Faye wanted, but to go so far as to waste energy on being jealous? Well, she just didn't have the time for that. But there was an unshakable feeling in the pit of her stomach. For once in a very long time, Faye wanted something that someone else had. Minus the attempts on her life, but definitely plus a certain jaded lunkhead.

And then there was Spike. It was inevitable that he would find a way into this. Whether he knew it or not, he was almost always on Faye's mind. She would have preferred that things not be that way, but it seemed as if there where a lot of things in her life that Faye simply could not control.

She's more than you deserve.
She's just far better than me.

Exasperated with herself, Faye flopped back onto her bed. Her imperfections where showing, and she didn't like that one bit. For all of the confidence that she pretended to exude, the truth of the matter was, Faye was nowhere near as okay with herself as she wanted to be. That was one of the, if not the biggest difference between her and Julia. Where she faked it, Julia was completely authentic.

Miss Perfect was a 'real' woman, in ever sense of the word. Miss Shrew was a leech, in every sense of that word. The differences between the two were quite subtle in the real world, but under the microscope that Faye now found herself in, the dissimilarities where tremendous.

"For the love of God, how in the hell could he even get a woman like her?" Of course, Faye was referring to Spike.

In a moment of weakness, or perhaps it was truth, Faye admitted openly to herself that Julia was perfect. Spike, well…wasn't. She was definitely more than he was worthy of. In Faye's honest opinion, if anyone deserved to be with someone solely based on merit, than Spike was her soul mate. But now that Faye knew what she was up against, the painful realization sunk in that she was silently fighting a battle that she had no way of winning.

"She's better than me in every way. But she's not the first woman to have a one up on old Valentine. So why in the hell does it matter so much to me?"

So don't bother,
I won't die of deception.
I promise you won't ever see me cry,
Don't feel sorry.

Rising from her bed in a sullen manner, Faye headed to her door. She faintly heard the sound of the hanger opening, and figured that Spike must be returning. After she had relayed Julia's message to him, Faye immediately regretted those words. She wanted to keep Spike safe, and sending him to Julia was doing the absolute opposite. In her heart of hearts, Faye knew that Julia would be the literal death of Spike. She might not pull the trigger, but she would be the catalyst.

Deciding not to leave her room after all, Faye turned her back and slid down the door, landing in a heap on the cool floor. As far as she knew, Spike didn't know she knew. It was the façade that he insisted on keeping so faultlessly intact. But during her night with Vicious, possibly the most terrifying encounter in her life, he had told her everything.

Julia's hands where as dirty as Spike's in this situation, and perhaps that's the only thing that Faye had over the other woman. She had never been unfaithful in the few relationships she'd had, nor had she stolen someone's lover. Though as iffy tears formed in her eyes, Faye so desperately wished that she had accomplished the latter.

And don't bother,
I'll be fine,
But she's waiting.

"She said she'd be waiting."

The words played over and over in Faye's faltering mind. She shouldn't have told him. If she had have kept that to herself, maybe she would have been able to change his mind. But she would never have been able to do that. Not only would he have probably figured things out, then wringed her neck for keeping it from him, but she also didn't want him to suffer.

Again, an odd feeling for Faye. She wasn't yet ready to say what her heart was currently screaming to acknowledge, but Faye knew that she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she kept that from him. He deserved that much, didn't he? To have closure? To have the chance to give thing just one more try?

As she put her head on her knees, those tears now flowing freely, Faye wondered why she even bothered.

The ring you gave to her will loose its shine,
So don't bother, be unkind.

I'm sure she doesn't know
How to touch you like I would…

Sniffling, Faye's mind flashed to the first time she realized she…felt for the Gorgio. It was all such a simple thing, really. And she was sure that many a woman contracted such a feeling afterwards, even if they were used merely out of pity, purely out of spite.

It had happened three times between them, though he'd deny it until his dying day. The first time, they had been tipsy. But the moment his lips pressed roughly against hers, she became stone sober. He had pulled her to him and she had clung to him for dear life. He had told her that this was nothing, only a way to release his frustrations. He had practically told her she was nothing. But she had let him have her.

The first time, he didn't let her touch him. He had firmly grasped her wrists and held them above her head. He had pushed himself into her almost violently. Over and over again, and she had let him. He didn't call her name, he didn't say a word, but his eyes never left hers, and that had really gotten to her.

The second time, he had been more forgiving. He allowed her to explore him to a degree. Apparently, he had discovered her touch to be rather nice, since he didn't stop her. She actually thought she saw him smile.

He was still dominant and still quite animalistic with her, but he had smirked that time. He had also been more vocal, which was an erotic sound that occasionally pounded in Faye's ears at night.

The third time, the last time, was something different all together. He was gentle. He was almost caring. He had even called her name. Though she had begun to fall the first time, it was then that Faye had crashed into the feeling.

Faye lifted her head and rested it on the door behind her. A small smirk played on her lips as she remembered something he had said, something she was sure she wasn't supposed to hear.

"I guess it's take a devil, or a shrew, to really know how to touch me right," his husky voice sounded in her mind.

I beat her at that one good.
Don't you think so?

"Well, I guess that's two things that make me better than Ms. Perfect," Faye chuckled to herself.

Once again, she could never say she hated Julia, but it felt oh so good to know that she could do something right.

Pushing herself up on cramping legs, Faye fell away from the door and wandered into the middle of her room. Rolling her neck and stretching her arms above her head, Faye felt satisfied with the pops her stressed joints made. Looking to the left, she caught her visage in the mirror again. And the scrutiny began anew.

She's almost six feet tall,
She must think I'm a flea.

Quickly disengaging her sight from her reflection, Faye sat down and began to pull on her boots. Not even thinking to change out of her, well, Spike's underclothes, Faye suddenly felt like a walk. Perhaps the air would clear her head and get out all of these unwanted thoughts.

As she went to pull on her other shoe, Faye noticed the heel. Standing up and gauging the height differential, Faye determined that she accrued an extra two inches with her trusty boots. When she was standing next to Julia, however, there was still a visible gap between their statures.

"She was probably a model, for all I know," Faye considered.

She couldn't actually say that she was jealous of Julia's height; Faye was actually quite content with her distance from the ground. It was just another thing to consider about Julia, though. All of her pieces that added to her perfect puzzle. Faye imagined for a moment how many parts there where to her. A hundred? Julia was simple enough for so few pieces. Or maybe it was a thousand. As Faye deconstructed Julia, and herself as well, it was easy to see that there was more that meets the eyes where the two of them were involved. Faye smirked to herself, though, as she knew that she'd be a ten thousand piece, 3-D puzzle at the very least.

I'm really a cat you see,
And it's not my last life at all.

Slinking out of her room, Faye was hesitant to make any noise. She didn't have to worry about Ein trailing her and barking at her escape anymore, but she also didn't want to face the men that still inhabited the ship. For a split second, Faye actually missed the girl and the mutt. There was a lot less estrogen now, but then again, there was a lot less dog hair, too.

As she made her way to the ship's hatch, hears ears perked at the sound of Spike's voice. He was saying something to Jet, she assumed. Listening in, she picked up something about a tiger-stripped cat. A tiny smile edged its way onto her face and she suddenly decided to stay on the ship.

Creeping back to her room, Faye noticed the cigarettes on the floor and decided to indulge herself. Sitting on her bed and lighting up, Faye found comfort in her nicotine. Her beloved cigarettes would never judge her, would never tell her that she wasn't good enough. Although, a case could be made that they would kill her in the end. As she inhaled a sizeable amount of smoke, she knew that she'd never go down so easily.

So don't bother,
I won't die of deception.

"You in there?" A familiar voice questioned at her door.

Exhaling her smoky breath, Faye flicked some ash and lazily answered.

"Yeah, want do you want?"

No answer was given, but her door was opened, and she easily recognized the lanky figure that was strolling in. His shoulders where hunched forward and his hair lay closer to his head, as if it had been wet. With hands shoved in his pockets as always, he made his way slowly around her room, looking at the random items that where strewn about.

She watched him with a hesitant eye, wondering what he truly wanted. If he was back, and appearing so demoralized, then chances are that things didn't go so well with Julia. Venturing to speak first, Faye broke her invaded silence.

"So what do you want, lunkhead? You're disturbing me."

"Disturbing you're what? You're not sleeping, so I'm not keeping you from your 'beauty rest'. Besides, it'd take you a lifetime of sleep for that," he replied, his tone as snarky as ever.

"Ha, ha, you're real riot, cowboy," Faye droned. It was his typical response, but with her confidence shield currently down, his comment stung more than usual.

"Why'd you tell me?" Spike quietly asked as he focused on the wall.

"Why did I tell you what?"

Spike shifted, seemingly uncomfortable. Faye had an inkling as to what he was talking about, but she was tired of trying to figure him out. He finally spoke.

"Why in the hell did you tell me about Julia!"

I promise you won't ever see me cry.

Faye's eyes grew wide as she stared up at him. What in the hell was his problem? Well whatever it was, yelling at her wasn't going to solve it.

"What are you yelling at me for?" Faye replied, standing up to level with him. "She asked me to tell you, and that's what I did! What was I supposed to do? Just keep that to myself?"

"You're such a selfish bitch most of the time, so I would have never put it past you!" he shot back.

Faye was slightly stunned with his outburst. It wasn't the first time he'd called her selfish, or a bitch, but as did his earlier insult, this one hurt as well. As she watched him turn his head to the side, she felt tears prickling at her eyes. But she wouldn't give him that much. Right now, he surely didn't deserve it.

Don't feel sorry.

"She's dead. There. I bet that just makes you so happy, doesn't it? You probably knew this would happen, and that's why you told me!"

Once again, all Faye could do was stare at him. Was he out of his fool mind? And Julia was dead? She wondered how that had happened. But why would she be happy about that? Did this lunkhead really think that she wanted Julia dead?

"Is that what you really think of me? I didn't even know the woman! Why would I want her dead?"

"Cause anyone with eyes can see that you love me! And the fact that I don't love you really got to you and – "

"Are you listening to yourself? Are you insinuating that I organized her death! Christ, Spike, you really got it bad."

Faye turned from him and shook her head in disbelief. This day only seemed to be going from bad to worse. She heard him huff, then she heard him approach her. For all she knew, he'd probably smack her in to add injury to insult.

"I'm sorry, Faye," he almost whispered. "It's just that…"

"Don't, Spike. Just…don't."

Don't bother,
I'll be fine,
But she's waiting.

She desperately wished that he would just leave. Since it was so obvious that she loved him, then it should be equally as obvious that she wanted him gone right now. Angry, shattered tears streamed down her cheeks and she prayed to that unforgiving God to make him leave.

Her prayers were answered for once, as she heard his footsteps fade away from her. He stopped by her door, she figured, as he apologized once more. Not daring to face him, she was drenched in relief when she finally heard the door close.

Turning to make sure he was gone, and when it was proven that he was, Faye fell to the floor, uncontrollable sobs escaping her body. Is that what he really thought of her? To even imply that she could…that she could want Julia dead, almost broke Faye down. She always knew it was more trouble then it was worth, falling in love with Spike, but that didn't stop her from doing so anyway.

She tried to stop the tears that fell, and she tried to forget what he had said. She knew she was no Julia. She knew she could never hope to compare to her. Faye tried desperately to be okay with that. She tried to promise herself that she would be fine.

The ring you gave to her will loose it's shine,
So don't bother, be unkind.

"He's only doing this to you because it's the only way he knows how to react."

Faye looked up as she heard Jet's comforting voice. He must have heard their not so quite confrontation. Hurriedly wiping her face dry, Faye pulled herself up into a sitting position and looked meekly up at the man.

"He…he thinks I wanted this," she hushed.

"No, he doesn't. He's pissed because she's dead and there was nothing that he could do. He's pissed because you're alive. And his pissed because he's okay with that. You're not the only person on this ship that's easy to read."

Faye cocked her head at Jet, and he chuckled to himself. For a moment, she looked like Ein, trying hard to understand the situation.

"He figures he wasn't supposed to feel this way about anyone but her. Things apparently didn't go that way. I imagine it happened when you two slept together."

As the emotionally exhausted woman appeared confused once again, Jet continued to clarify.

"I suggest you don't leave your bra and his boxers heaped together on the bathroom floor it you want to keep things secret," the older man smirked. "His actions aren't justified Faye, but sometimes, he only knows how to be cruel."

And with that, Jet left her alone to think on his words, or to not think at all. Standing up and attempting to shake off the metaphorical grit of the evening, Faye trumped to her mirror and began to brush out her mussed hair.

Taking a Kleenex, she dried the remnants of tears from her face. Pushing her headband onto her head, Faye stared at herself again in the mirror. Maybe it was what Jet had said, but Faye was actually okay with what she saw this time. Decorating her lips with their usual crimson color, Faye smiled at her reflection as she spoke.

"Oh Spike, for you, I'd give up all I own, though it's not like I have alot anyway. And I'd move back to earth, if you came with me, of course. And I'd file my nails so they don't hurt you...well, maybe I'll let 'em hurt a little, you seemed to like that. And lose those pounds. Wait, my body's perfect! I think I'm quite okay with it now. And learn about Jeet Kwon whatever you call if, if it made you stay. But you won't, but you won't."

Don't bother,
I'll be fine, I'll be fine, I'll be fine, I'll be fine.

Slipping back into her normal outfit, Faye glanced at her reflection once more. Yes, she liked what she saw. She was still no Julia, but that didn't matter. If what Jet had said was really true (and she desperately hoped that it was), then she had no reason to envy Julia. Truthfully, she had no reason to in the first place.

She'd be fine. She knew she would be. There was a time in every woman's life when she doubted her worth, even for just a moment. And this was Faye's time, so it seemed. But she was okay. She was strong, she had to be. And as far as she was concerned, Spike could yell at her and call her names and insinuate things all day long. She wouldn't let it bother her, she just didn't have the time for that.

Promise you won't ever see me cry.

Faye left her room once more, intent on finding the ships' resident lunkhead. She might as well tell him that she accepted his apology. Anything that she could do to soothe his soul. She really was a saint, when she thought about it. She'd just go and find him, make some small talk, toss in a couple of insults, and that'd be that. No love fest, no tear shed. Just that, the simple essence of Spike and Faye.

And after all, I'm glad that I'm not your type.

She didn't find him in his room, though. She found him walking down the corridor, looking determined, with a hint of fatalism in his steps. He didn't have to say a word to her, she already knew where he was going. She knew what he was doing and who he was doing it for. Convincing herself that it didn't matter, that Jet must have been out of his mind, she questioned Spike. She demanded to at least hear the truth.

Throughout his little speech, which seemed so rehearsed, in the back of her mind, Faye thought of Julia again. In retrospect, she was pleased that she wasn't Julia. Quite pleased, indeed. And even more so, she was glad that Spike was going. And she was glad that she just wasn't what he wanted. She'd never want to be where she wasn't welcome, and his heart would definitely qualify as a place like that.

She didn't need to shot her gun, but she did for effect. If he thought she loved him, then she'd play into the ruse. She knew that everybody needed to feel important at some point in their life. Once her bullets had all been shot, she slumped against the wall and enjoyed the cool that seeped into her skin. No, she wasn't what he wanted, and she was okay with that.

Promise you won't ever see me cry.

But for all of her recent revelations, and for all of the actions she had faked, Faye found herself crying once again. She didn't want him to go. She knew that he would never come back from this.

She had shot her gun because she wanted him to see how much she needed him. She had yelled at him because it was the only way she knew how to say it. She had pretended not to care because that's how he would have wanted things to be. All lies, all deceptions, but all truth hidden underneath.

But she never let him see her cry. She never let him see her weak. And maybe in the end, that's why he insisted on being so unkind. And maybe that's they could never love each other. And maybe that's why they never had the strength to try. But life was a just a dream, after all,as a wise a wise man had once said.


MAYBE YOU SHOULD HAVE BOTHERED,
AFTER ALL…

and that's the end of that. good? bad? indifferent? well either which way, thanks for reading, i really do appreciate it! well, i'll hopefully have something else out soon. until then, thanks for stopping by!

-phoenix