A/N: Well, here's a little ficlet that's been bouncing around in my head for several months. Yes, it's depressing. Yes, it's kinda weird. But hey! That's me.

Anyways, this is loosely influenced by the book 'Griffen and Sabine' (and also the sequel, 'Sabine's notebook'). It takes place some time after the series ends, and is from Faye's point of view. After you finish reading, PLEASE REVIEW!!!! Even if you didn't like it, tell me what I can do better.

Thanks so much for reading!

Until next we meet,

Fallenangel(26)

DISCLAIMER: Roses are red, Violets are blue. Me no own, So you no sue!

The CB characters belong to Bandai, and the song 'Gravity' from 'Wolf's Rain' belongs to Maaya Sakamoto, Yoko Kanno, and the people that made that anime

~Been a long road to follow,
Been there and gone tomorrow,
Without saying goodbye to yesterday.
Are the memories I hold still valid?
Or has the tears deluded them?~

Dear Spike,

Well, here I am. You wanted me to come, and I did. As I sit here, leaning against you to write this, I am enveloped in the smell of you, and all the memories it brings back. Back when I first met you, you smelled like most bounty hunters; Cigarettes, metal, and cheap whiskey. But you also had another smell lingering there among the others. Blood. It was faint, almost like a shirt that hasn't been worn for many years, but it was still there. I guess that's not much basis for judging a guy, I mean can you see me sitting in a café talking to some girlfriends, "I like guys who smell like blood,"? Yeah, that's me.

But you just had this (I'm going to sound like an idiot here,) essence. I felt like I had to know why that blood was there. That's why I was so pesky, those first few weeks.

But the more I got to know you, the more I realized that I didn't want to know the story behind the bloody smell. Especially when Vicious had me in that church. That has been one of the most profoundly shocking experiences of my life.

When I called you and Jet, I was a little worried of course. I knew I'd been, well, kinda bitchy to you guys, and now you were the only people that could come get me. But who else was I going to call? Doctor Bachus and Nurse Manley? Whitney? The ISSP? Nope. All I had was you guys. And when Jet told me I was on my own, I swear, I thought I was dead. I mean, my life didn't exactly flash before my eyes, (because of course, I couldn't remember it) but I just got this feeling. I kept thinking that I didn't want to die yet!

But then you put you hand out and asked where I was. God. I think that right there, my view of you started to change. Even though you said you weren't coming for me, I knew that I was going to be okay.

But when you strode into that church, there was something about you that made my blood run cold. Something in the way you walked. Something in the way your trench coat flared out behind you. Something in the way your eyes were. Something in the way the temperature of the already freezing church dropped a few degrees.

After you got me loose, all I could think about was getting out of there. You looked so scary, so different from the careless cowboy I knew. You didn't look like you'd get in a fight with me over who used the last of the hot water, or yell because I stole your cigarettes (Sorry! Force of habit…). I couldn't see the Spike Spiegel that I had come to know.

I saw a different side of you. A ruthless killer and trained assassin, all traces of relative good humor gone. That's when I realized that there was a whole other part of you that I had never seen. A part that reaches into the back of the closet to pull out that bloodstained shirt. That part attracted me just as much as the careless cowboy did.

~Maybe there's time tomorrow.
The rain will cease to follow,
And the mist will fade into one more today.
Something somewhere out there keeps calling.~

When I saw you go flying out of that huge stained glass window, my heart stopped. Here I was, hands tied behind my back, wearing a spaghetti strap dress and stilettos, watching you fall, presumably to your death. I could barely move. When you hit the pavement, I swear my heart stopped. I kept thinking, Don't let him be dead! Over and over again. It must have worked, because there was glass and chunks of stone falling all around, yet none of them seemed to hit you.

I remember almost being afraid to touch you, after everything quieted down. But I had to. That grenade you threw really shook things up. Literally.

In the end, I managed to drag you over to shelter under some trees across the street (which is why you had all those scratches across you back). Geez you were heavy! (Do me a favor, and ease up on the doughnuts!) Then Jet came and picked us up, just like I knew he would, even though he kept insisting it was only because you still owed him repair money.

After I fixed you up, I sat and watched you sleeping, there on that godforsaken yellow couch. I didn't tell you, but I stayed by your side, the entire time you were unconscious. I don't know what I expected when you woke up, but I didn't want to miss it.

I guess I thought that the new (or old I guess), Spike Spiegel was turning over a new leaf in our relationship. I must have been hoping for a decent conversation that didn't involve screaming, sharp things, and random flying objects. Maybe I thought a 'thank you', or maybe a comfortable silence to allow me to thank you for saving me.

But noooo. The Abominable Lunkhead was back in action (Sort of). And so, The Untouchable Shrew Woman donned her tights and cape, returning to her never-ending crusade, to vanquish all dumbasses, starting with a certain green haired cowboy. You just had to comment on my singing. If there's one thing I hate, it's people who insult my singing. I may not be an opera star, but I'd like to see you do any better. (On second thought, don't. I keep forgetting that I've heard you sing before… Not a pretty sight.)

Don't worry, I'm just playing with you. But on a slightly more serious note, let's get back to the main point of this letter.

~Am I going home?
Will I hear someone singing solace to the silent moon?
Zero gravity what's it like?
Am I alone?

 Is somebody there beyond these heavy aching feet?~

I'm writing an apology to you, for taking so long to understand. Maybe if I could have figured you out earlier, I could have done something. I'm not saying that all this was my fault, because I had absolutely nothing to do with it. But I think that might be what's bothering me. I didn't try to help. I know you would have bitched at me and thrown a fit if I'd even suggested it, but I could have snuck around behind your back or something. I know that you know how hard Jet and I tried to respect the fact that you wanted this to be yours alone, but I still can't help wondering if things could have turned out differently if I had done something. Maybe given you something to come back to. After all, a place to belong is the most wonderful thing in the world.

But you have to understand, I had to figure out myself, before I could help you. And it just took me too long. Or maybe, you moved too quickly. Anyhow, I guess you could say our internal watches just weren't synchronized. Somehow, we just missed each other in the enveloping mist of our separate lives. I didn't realize that I needed you until you were walking away from me to go blow the Red Dragon headquarters to Kingdom Come.

It wasn't too late then. I could have stopped you from leaving. But there was something holding me back. I couldn't say what it was then, and I still can't now. Maybe it was the last few shreds of The Untouchable Shrew Woman. Maybe it was that my tongue was stuck in my mouth, unable to wrap around the words that needed to be said. Maybe the barrier between us was too high. Maybe it was a little of all of these things. Maybe it was something entirely different. I have no idea.

But whatever it was, it kept me prisoner for just a little too long. I didn't know I needed you until it was too late. Maybe you never knew at all.

I know there probably wasn't anything I could have done, but this niggling feeling just keeps haunting me. I have this need to explain all this to you. I don't know why. Maybe I'm hoping you read this, even though I know you won't. Maybe I'm just desperate to find an excuse for the way things turned out. Maybe I'm just losing it. (No, don't let one of your horrible 'I told you so' smirks creep onto your face.)

Even though I'm writing this to you as if you'll actually read this, I know that as soon as I finish writing, I'll just pull out your old lighter (yes, it was me who stole it…) and watch these pages burn.

Your gravestone's gone cold now, and it's late.

Until next we meet,

Faye

~Still the road keeps on telling me, to go on.
Something is pulling me.
I feel the gravity, of it all.~

A/N: Well? Like it? Hate it? TELL ME!!! And no, this is NOT the end. There will be two or so more chapters…