They had fought about the most recent bounty. The forty-five million woolong bounty that got away. Spike was pissed. He was pissed at Faye for getting felt up at the street corner where she was stationed. He was pissed that she took her eyes off the bounty to deal with pervert for reaching up her skirt. He was pissed at himself for letting the damn bounty slip by him, while he watched with some morbid satisfaction as Faye beat the shit out of the pervert. He stalked out of the hanger after landing the Swordfish, kicked a bucket over, and lit a smoke. Faye, who had still been in the Redtail, watched him with growing concern. She jumped out of her fighter and walked up to him.

He could hear her coming by the sounds her black cowboy boots made. He was kind of surprised that he noticed how differently they sounded from her white ankle boots. He thought about how different Faye was now that she had regained parts of her memory. Even her outfits had changed. Instead of the yellow getup that drew all the wrong attention, she wore a black skirt and a loose gray off-the-shoulder top over a black tank, with those black cowboy boots. It was like she had more confidence and more control in herself and her abilities and didn't need to exert her sex appeal to get that across. But there was still same Faye Valentine he knew—biting comebacks, quick right hook, dead-shot aim.

She stood next to him, her arms crossed over her chest, giving him a sideways look. "What was that all about?" she asked in a not quite accusatory tone. Spike snorted, not sure himself what the answer was. "Well?" she asked again, the toe of her right boot tapping, waiting impatiently for an answer. "How the hell did you let him get away?" she whined angrily when it became apparent he wasn't going to answer. "The fucking bounty ran right past you, Spike! Where the hell is your head anymore? Are you even listening to me?" She gave him a little shove to get his attention, not realizing how apparently unstable the bucket he was sitting on was. Spike sprawled on the ground and something snapped in his mind. He picked himself up angrily and swung around to face Faye, who had her hand over mouth, trying not giggle. Her smile faded when she saw the glare in his eyes. There was something unreadable in those mismatched mahogany eyes.

Faye's own resolve fell as Spike moved in on her. Unsure, she stepped back until she hit the metal wall of the hanger. But Faye Valentine never gave in to fear, so she steeled her emerald eyes and met Spike's head on. Her hands weren't raised, but her posture said Hit me if dare! He kept coming, but his fists weren't raised either. Instead, with his eyes still locked on hers, he bent to kiss her. It was a hard, unyielding kiss that was filled with anger and passion. She tried to pull away, but he caught her head with one hand, and grabbed her waist with the other, yanking her against him. Not once did his lips leave hers.

Faye couldn't help it. It was like a wildfire had caught her and she had no choice but to burn for him. Her lips parted for breath, only to be assaulted by his again, this time his tongue slipped past and fought hers for control. He pushed her back against the hanger wall again and brought her right leg against his hip. Spike's hand traveled up her thigh and caressed it, before entwining his fingers in the strings of her underwear. She was hot and wet and so was he. He untangled his fingers from under her skirt and from her hair and unbuttoned his slacks. Her black panties had hit the floor as he lifted her against him. Her long legs wrapped around his waist and they made contact. He pushed her against the wall again and again, feeling the anger leave him with each thrust. She cried out each time, too, but he couldn't tell if was from pain or pleasure, or maybe both. They climaxed at the same time, leaving Spike panting as he leaned against her and nuzzled into her neck. Faye's long fingers, which had wrapped themselves in his already unruly hair during their excitement, now rested on his broad shoulders, absently stroking the skin of his neck.