It was dark in the room. I remained barefoot and in my nightgown. The air was crisp and cool, but not chilling. The ship was shut down mostly, except for that constant bass vibration that you got used to after only a few days. Sometimes it was a lullaby. Sometimes an annoyance, but that was only after you chased what you couldn't catch.

But I never could catch you, could I?

The shadows were most present in the corners and bent the room into some horrible octagon. Strange how the darkness took to corners, like some kind of random but consistent void of darkness. Across from me, I could see him, just barely, grey and blue tints reflecting back. He was lying there again. His eyes were closed, simply because he was sleeping. His outline breathed deep for the life that was in this air.

What is it that you dream about, night after night, Spike Spiegel?

I pulled out a cigarette from a pack I kept secretly in this chair. It used to be hidden out of the caution that my then captors might steal my smokes. I lit it up, the strike of the lighter echoing around the room. I drew in the smoke, embers lighting up the darkness with a bright orange glow, and then pulled the paper tube from my lips. He sat still in the darkness, his breath the only noise he emitted. I wanted to become that air he needed so much.

I love you…why are you leaving us… me… again?

Because he loved her, because he hated him… that's why. I wanted to cry out like some tiny child, demanding a rational answer to everything and the story of his life, a thing I would never hear the fable of. This was something he never shared with me. His past.

Spike could dwell on the past forever, couldn't he?

I sighed, smoke coming out in wispy tendrils from behind my lips.

Don't kid yourself, girl… you would want every chance to even get your hands on a past. Heck, you'd take his… even though it was Hell.

I watched his chest move under that well-worn yellow shirt and loose tie. It glided smoothly under the fabric. His breathing made the room almost warm…

You'd gamble with the devil himself in exchange for some memory of your own to grasp, to hold… but what would you do to get him?

I stared into the abyss…

He's saved your life, you owe him this hour without disturbance. Huh, but you owe everybody, so what makes Spike so special?

… and the abyss stared into me…

How long have you danced around him while all he's done is stood still?

It was clear what I needed to do, what my soul was tearing my mind up over. I stood up, putting the cigarette out in a nearby ashtray.

What are you doing, Faye?

I took a few steps forward, finding some sixth sense and managing not to bump my shins on the coffeetable.

This fish isn't hungry, Faye. It won't bite the hook, it won't take the bait. Don't ruin it now, Faye.

I stood beside him, staring down. His dreaming eyes danced under their lids. When he's awake, he never really sees you with those eyes. His breath kept coming, slow and steady.

Don't.

Then I leaned in, closing my eyes, finding his lips with mine. And I kissed him. It was gentle, barely there, surreal in every atom and molecule folded within its wings and burdens.

What are you doing Faye?

And I pulled away.

What are you doing Faye?

What are you doing Faye?

"What are you doing Faye?" his voice rose up above the darkness. His eyes were now open, those enigmatic eyes had opened. His breath was now caught, captured and saved for the next sentence. He waited for my answer, but there came none.

"Was I snoring that loud?"

He was awake this whole time, wasn't he Faye?

He probably had been. He'd heard me, seen me, felt me. The serene moment was over, or had it been never existing?

I smiled, a little laugh escaping me. "Yes, Spike. You sounded awful. I wish you'd keep your damn mouth shut while others are trying to sleep," I said and started towards my own room. But I stopped at the doorway out, halfway between a dancing dream and a tumbling reality.

"Hey Spike?"

He was sitting up now, as I turned to face him. His eyes, those dreaming eyes, were directed my way. He was adjusting twisted pant legs and socks.

"Yeah Faye?"

I love you, I want you. We can leave, Spike, forever and ever. We can never look back, Spike. Leave with me, leave with me…

"Nevermind…"

And then I left the room, and the mirage man, behind me… another bitter medicinal concoction that Fate and Destiny had forced me to swallow.

What are you doing Faye?

What are you doing Faye?

I would like everyone to know that I don't own Cowboy Bebop. I may continue this, but only if the readers would be pleased by this action. If you are going to review, tell me your opinion of a continuation in your review. Thank you for reading this.