Tipsy
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Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop, nor the rights to any brand of tequila. Although both are close and dear to my heart.
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She couldn't stop drinking
The fluid of tequila and dulled the aching pain Faye felt in her stomach. The bebop was quiet, as usual. Silence wasn't the best way to repress lonliness. Alcohol was.
"Hm." The smell of smoke wafted behind her, as Spikes footsteps walked past and sat in the seat opposite the couch where Faye sat. He looked glazed over, as usual. Decidedly she took another shot.
Yes his eyes were glazed over but his grunts were pretty readable. Spike liked to think of himself as a closed book, but she could read him. Unfortunately. Its not like she wanted to. She could care less about the emotions that fluttered through the muscle spasms of Spikes face. It was just another result of spending so much damned time with someone.
"Do you mind?" Faye's brow twitched. "I'm busy."
"Busy getting drunk, shrew?" His eyes wandered over the bottle of tequila and Faye's sloshed face. Now it was her turn to grunt. She wasn't in the mood for him. Who cares if he had a bad day that he tried to eradicate by bickering with her? He could go find his own damned distraction.
She took another shot. Spike, realized that he was being ignored and no snapping comments were going to emerge out of her mouth anytime soon as long as it was filled with liquor. So he leaned forward and poured himself a shot. Her eyebrow twitched again. "I didn't say you could do that."
"As if its fun drinking alone" Spike glugged down the shot and poured himself another. Now her brows narrowed but he pulled out a cigarette and tossed it to her. "Consider it a payment, barkeeper"
She sniffed and after a drunk pause, she took it. "Ok,thats fine." She decided to stop being so stingy and relax back into the couch. She hiccuped and Spike raised a brow at her.
"You're drunk."
"Who cares?" she raised her hand up to the ceiling to enunciate her point and then let it drop, as she let her head roll to the side her eyes close lazily. "Who fucking cares."
Spike was looking at her, slightly worried. Which was a strange change from impassive. It had gotten to the point where they had spent so much time on the bebop that each others company had become completely familiar. Maybe even friendly. Perhaps, as the months wore on. Faye's once bitchy resentful attitude was now strange to see. Sometimes she forgot that she was on a friendly basis now with the gruff ex-cop, the energetic little girl and the irritating greenhaired man.
He smirked, lighting up a cigarette, the next shot starting to dull his senses too. "I've never seen a woman drink like you, you know."
"Who cares."
"Stop saying that." His eyebrow twitched again.
"Sorry. thats your line, right?" She slurred, propping her smooth milky legs on the table. She was dressed in her home clothes, her shorts and her tank top. Her hair was up in a messy bun. Her makeup was scrubbed off her face, but her lips still looked red and puckered,as if she were wearing lipstick. The alchol made her face flush and bright, but through her drunken state, her expression still looked calm, composed and unwavering. Spike had to admire that.
"Was that suppose to be a clever quip or something?" He scoffed, getting comfortable in the couch too and downing yet another shot. He could be as bad as her, if he wanted to.
"Oh look at me I'm Spike, I like to think I'm cool and aloof, but my hair is fluffy like a cat." She said in mockery. Definitely at his expense.
"Oh so is that how it's going to be? Well I'm Faye Valentine, I drink like a man and I dress like a hooker and-OW!" She had slipped off her shoe and thrown in square at his face. He blinked in surprise at these quick drunk relaxes and was about to bark like a dog but Faye had now rolled over to her side, giggling madly.
A little shocked, he took the shoe and just let it slip onto the ground, letting it go. "You drunk shrew."
"You're drunk too." She raised her brow, in that oh so seductive Faye-esque way. She didn't mean to be, it was just habit. "What the hell is a shrew anyway?"
"It's...." He motioned a lazy hand to her. "...you. In a nutshell."
"You're a nutshell. A damn hard nutshell." She rambled with a smile that had slipped onto her face, but her expression was still composed. If anyone didn't know Faye, they wouldn't have thought she was drunk at all, just happy. "You're like a little man trapped in a nutshell."
He lowered his lids coolly. "Oh really?"
"Nutshells have hard walls, I hear."
"Faye..." he said slowly, pouring himself his umptheeth shot. He was definitely getting to Faye's state now. "Are you alright?"
"I am now." she was on her back now, one leg balancing on the other, staring dreamily at the ceiling. The atmosphere had gotten less stuffy now, less disabilating. Was it the tequila or Spike relaxed into the reclining chair with a slight drunken smile? Either way, she was grateful.
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Thanks for reading! I have an urge to continue it, maybe with a drunken game of 10 fingers