3/1/04
Author's Notes – Konnichi-wa, minna san! I trust everyone is well. You guys sent such awesome reviews that I had to find some way to thank you... (wow, that sounded really conceited, sorry...) But anyways, here it is. You guys were wondering what would have happened had Spike actually heard Faye's ramblings in 'While You were Sleeping'. As I promised, here is the sequel.
Well, it's not exactly a sequel. Let's just call it a hybrid between that and a companion piece. It's a look into our favorite lunkhead's introspective thoughts on life and general and how a certain Shrew's impromptu confession fits into that scheme. I wanted it to have the same feel as 'While You are Sleeping' but that just didn't work. It takes place maybe a week or two afterwards, but I had to keep in mind the events of "Ballad of Fallen Angels". Thoughts of Vicious and Julia are still too fresh in Spike's mind, so don't expect too much in the romance department.
Also, I'd like to apologize in advance if he sounds a bit too much like Roger Smith in some parts (FYI: that's from Big O). I was trying to use Steven Jay Blum's voice to get the right feel for the fic and it worked just a bit too well... or maybe not.
If that made entirely no sense at all, I apologize. So, without further adieu, here's the fic for your reading enjoyment.
Sleeping Awake
Julia is gone.
I don't know if she's dead or not, but I do know she's gone. At least, that's what I constantly tell myself. Night after night, I lay awake – a victim to my own thoughts – with this fact constantly taunting me. True, I don't seem like the type for introspective thinking, but when I'm alone like this I'm reminded of the fact that Julia is not here beside me.
Introspective, no; masochistic, maybe? Yah damn right.
Though I really don't care. Well, that's a lie, I guess. I cared about Julia – a whole lot, in fact. She's the reason I decided to give up my old life as a Syndicate thug. Something about her just made me want to be a better person. But it doesn't matter anymore, really. It hurts that she's not with me, but I suppose that was her choice. I wanted to leave the Syndicate to be a better man for her. I wanted her to come with me. Run away with me so we could live the rest of our lives together.
Too bad she didn't.
I guess there're a million and one reasons she didn't meet me at the graveyard that day like I asked. Maybe she lost track of the time, or maybe got stuck in traffic. There's also the possibility that the Syndicate caught her – but I'd rather not entertain that thought. It's times like this where it is my warped belief that she chose not to come because I was simply not enough for her to want to stay with me.
Yes, I'm pathetic.
But, anyway, I'm alone now. Well – that's not entirely true. I'm a bounty hunter now, roommates with an ex-cop and an ex-con – both of which are probably entertaining the belief that I'm a suicidal maniac.
Oh well. Can't say I blame them. I spend my days feigning existence; walk, breath, eat, sleep, smoke, repeat when necessary. Going through the motions of everyday life is just my weak attempt to hold onto what little sanity I have left.
Eh – screw my sanity, I lost that years ago when I decided it was cool to sleep around with my best friend's girlfriend. Strange that I can say that so easily now... I guess it's a bit harsh, but it's pretty much the truth.
Yes, Vicious was my friend. Yes, I totally ignored that piece of info when Julia and I started our whole taboo love affair. Yes, I ruined an okay friendship over a woman. Yes, from that day on Vicious became my worst enemy. Do I feel bad about any of this? No... not anymore.
The fact of the matter is that I'm not so bothered by that anymore. Hell, I can't really say I was all that bothered by it before. It's just that thinking about Julia and reminding myself that she's no long with me used to serve as a penance – I guess for pushing Vicious over the edge? I'm not so sure. He was crazy as shit before all this went down, but it didn't help us betraying him and all.
So, in short, I stole his girl. He found out and shit went south. I couldn't keep the girl, but neither could he so now he's trying to kill me out of maniacal, envious rage. This should bother me, but to tell you the truth, it doesn't. I really could care less.
Why? Well, for a number of reasons actually. For starters, it doesn't really matter – c'mon, don't look at me like that, it's true. People die. It's a fact of nature. Me choking on a bell pepper or Vicious walking in this room and shooting me between the eyes point blank does not change the fact that I will eventually die. It just depends on how or when.
Secondly, worrying over trivial things – well, things I really have no control over – wastes energy, and that's not something I have a lot of right now. Well, if you had been shot in the gut and blown out a cathedral window you'd be pretty exhausted, too. Recuperation does not take place over night.
And because I've been laid up on the couch for a couple of weeks, I've had no choice but to sit and reevaluate my life. Yeah, experiencing a near- death occurrence does cause people to take a second look at themselves. But, ironically enough, that wasn't the case for me. Yeah, I'd fallen a couple stories after being shot in the gut, but I've faced stuff like that before. It's not an everyday type thing, but let's just say I've gotten pretty damned used to it.
Like I said, death is coming; it's only a matter of time.
What? Oh, I'm getting off topic, aren't I? Sorry, I've got a lot on my mind. You of all people should know how that is.
Okay, bad joke. Don't look at me like that.
Anyway, like I was saying, the wake up call for me wasn't when I fell – it was what happened afterwards. Strangely enough, the first thing I can recall was hearing her voice – well, besides insanely, near-unbearable amounts of pain. She wasn't talking directly to me, I think she was talking to Jet on the comm.. My guess is that she was calling him to come pick us up.
Nothing though-inspiring there; after she hung with him, she just kinda sat there. She didn't talk to me all that much, she was just there. Strangely enough, that was all that mattered. Don't misunderstand me, if you'd have asked me what I thought about Faye Valentine 48 hours then, I would have said absolutely nothing. After all, what was there to think?
She was a woman. Well, that much was obvious. She was pretty damn good looking, too – but she was definitely lacking in the personality department. First, she tried to scam me at that casino, and then she robbed the Bebop blind. It's hard to stay mad at her though, she's pretty tricky. And she's not too shabby with that Glock of hers either – this I know from personal experience.
I got off topic again, didn't I? Ah well, like I was saying, women like her gave others of her gender a bad name. Not that I held women in general in that high a regard, but its people like Faye who leave a bad taste in your mouth. She's a thief, a liar, she's spoiled, whiny, spoiled, and did I mention she was a thief? Let's just say she and I really didn't get along.
Don't get me wrong, we worked okay together; we did have a few creative differences from time to time, but let me tell you – a few woolongs will get anybody to set aside their differences. Trust me on that one.
So, basically, I felt I was pretty set in my opinion of the untouchable Shrew woman. Yeah, she looked like a woman – dressed like a whore, though – but she was an all-out tomboy. After all, real women don't chug back six- packs and chain-smoke like there's no tomorrow, do they? There was no doubt in my mind that I would ever – and I mean ever – feel even the remotest shred of attraction for her.
Damn, was I wrong.
Like I said, I've had a lot of time to think about this. That whole incident not only helped me shed some light on myself, but it showed me a new side of Faye. She could have hightailed it out of there as soon as bullets started to fly, but even after everything went down, Faye stuck around with me. I still think it's strange how she didn't really say anything to me. I think most women would have been screamin' and cryin' and worrying. Faye wasn't like that though – which now I can admit I'm glad. She just kinda stayed by my side 'til Jet came with the Bebop – making sure I didn't bleed to death.
I wouldn't have thought much of it, but believe it or not, she didn't stop there. Normal people – when surviving an incident with the Red Dragon Syndicate, distance themselves from anyone and anything relating to that said incident. But surprisingly enough, Faye came back to the Bebop with us – well, with Jet and my comatose body, that is. I remember hearing the two of them talking over my head about how bad my injuries were. Turns out I needed a lot of extensive care taking and Jet couldn't afford to put me up in a hospital.
Not that I care. I don't like those places anyway – they give me the creeps.
Anyway, Faye could have left right then. After all, why should it have mattered to her? She didn't owe me anything, and she had certainly made it quite clear that we were only her 'comrades' when she was the one in trouble. Talk about your sunny-weather friends... but then, that was Faye – or the Faye that I thought I knew.
Can you believe she was the one who offered to look after me? Yeah, that's right, I said she offered. Nobody forced her; she just kinda stepped forward on her own. Jet was surprised – hell, I was surprised too; Faye never offered to do anything without there being some catch or strings attached. But here she was, volunteering to fluff my pillows, fetch my painkillers, change my bandages, chase away my inner demons...
I did say I did a lot of thinking during this time – I didn't say I was conscious for any of it. To be honest, I think I was out of it for pretty much all of my recuperation. I think the only times I was semi-conscious was when nature called, or when I was woken up from a really freakish nightmare.
There were a lot of those. Some tripped out shit, I'll tell you that. I guess that's what happens when you're in so much pain delirium starts to set in. Not fun. Most of time I was just reliving past hits that went bad – ones where I was on the receiving end of a gun barrage, or even facing down my own gun. Then there were ones that had Julia in them – I'm not even gonna go into those. Let's just say those were the ones I wished I could wake up from.
I think that's when I started gaining a newfound respect for Faye. I can remember waking up from particularly nasty nightmares only to remember her calming me down. She'd never say anything, but I think just having her there, feeling the touch of somebody who was actually concerned about me made me feel a little better. And when there were times where I was actually conscious enough to realize where the hell I was, she'd never mention anything about it.
I guess she can be honorable after all... But she did have her reasons – as I later found out.
I was lying passed out on the couch – drifting in and out of pain-filled consciousness. The painkillers I was on were just now starting to wear off, but I wasn't all that bothered by it yet. After all, she was there – like always – she was playing cards and humming.
Julia had hummed that song once. I remember because I had just had another nightmare that ended with her humming that song. She had stopped and I had asked her to sing it again. It's strange, because I remember her voice fading away to be replaced by Faye's. And I also remember liking her voice better.
Does that mean that I've finally given up on Julia? I know I said before that she was gone, but does this mean that it doesn't matter to me anymore? Has Faye's presence made my memories of Julia completely unnecessary?
I don't know... and I'm not sure I want to.
Faye had stopped humming to focus on one of the cards in her deck. Satisfied with her move, she started talking. This I was used to; every once and a while she'd just talk about stuff that was going on – Jet's latest hunt, what was new on Big Shots... stupid shit like that. Not that I'd shut her up or anything – talking took energy, and I do remember telling you I didn't have a lot of that.
Anyway, I kinda liked listening to her. I was impressed in how devoted she was to her task of 'taking care' of me. She never whined or complained about things like she usually did, and I found that when she wasn't bitching about something, the sound of her voice was pretty nice.
Then she said she loved me. Yeah, that's what I said. Faye said she loved me. She was just sitting there talking about what had happened in the cathedral that day and how she thought I was gonna die. I was pretty surprised to hear that she had been worried about me – from up until that point, the only things I thought she ever worried about was money and herself.
But I guess that's not really the case anymore, is it? I guess the Faye Valentine I thought I knew was just a front. The role she plays to keep everyone at arms length – even me.
Does it bother me now that I know the truth? Is the fact that she loves me or the fact that she told me when she thought I couldn't hear her bugging me more? Should I even be bothered by the fact that she said she loved me at all?
... I don't know.
She's attractive, I'll give you that. She can hold her own in a fight. She's also a pretty good partner when she's not busy whining about getting her cut. Being in dept up to your ass is a good reason to be concerned, but get over it already... damn.
Oh, I got off topic again, didn't I? I've been doing that a lot lately. Ever since that night I haven't been able to get her off of my mind. She loves me? Why the hell would she go and say something like that – out loud?! Damn, it's not like she ever planned on telling me. Does she think I'd never let her live it down or something?
What would I do? What should I do? I don't know how I'm supposed to react. After all, this is Faye were talking about. Faye Valentine, the Untouchable Shrew woman, the infamous Poker Alice, the gun-toting, chain- smoking, water-hogging untamable beast. Faye Valentine who eats our food, steals our gas and money, gets herself in trouble whenever possible, stays by my broken body on the steps of a broken cathedral, calls for help and keeps me from bleeding until the help arrives, stays by my side for days without complaint, chases away my inner demons I can recuperated in peace, and then says she loves me.
Damn. Do I... I don't know. What about Julia?
What about Julia...
What about Faye...?
~~~
"You rang?"
Spike looked up to see Faye walk into the room. She had replaced her usual ho-suit with a large, oversized t-shirt. His large, oversized t-shirt. He should have been bothered by this, but for some reason he wasn't.
She had a pack of cigarettes in her hand, fishing one out and placing it on her lips. Spike could only watch transfixed as she searched around for a lighter.
"On the coffee table, next to the remote."
Faye blinked at him a moment, studying his carefully placed deadpan expression. Following his instructions, sure enough, there lay his trusty Zippo lighter. Walking over to it, she lit her cigarette, taking a few puffs to get it lit effectively.
"So," she sat down on the edge of the couch, still mindful – he noted absently – of his injuries. "Who're you talking to?"
Spike blinked, glancing down at the floor by her feet. Ein was gone; so much for getting some answers. 'Damn dog.' Instead of answering, he glanced up at the cigarette pressed between her lips. His mouth was watering for... the nicotine... right... yes, definitely the nicotine.
"You know," he replied, his voice still slightly raspy. "I should get some compensation for the use of my lighter."
Emerald green eyes studied him for a moment. "Should you even be smoking yet?"
"What doesn't kill you, makes you strong."
She huffed, rolling her eyes. "Of course you would say something like that."
Spike only shrugged, though that did nothing to help his injuries. He blinked, suddenly staring at the cigarette being held in front of him. A slight patch of lipstick could be seen on the tip.
"What? You said you wanted a smoke, right?" Faye narrowed her eyes at his bewildered expression. Such a look was new, even for him. "It's the last in my pack. I don't have cooties you know."
With a small sigh, Spike craned his head forward as she extended the cig towards his lips. He paused a moment, his eyes widening a slight fraction. Couldn't something like this be considered an indirect kiss?
~ Whoa... too much thinking, Spiegel. You do not want to kiss Faye. ~
'Or do I?' He moved forward the last amount of space, allowing her to place the cigarette between his lips. With a few short puffs, nicotine flowed through his system, bringing his senses back to life.
He could taste her behind the smoke and nicotine. It'd been a while since he'd kissed a woman – and he'd definitely never kissed Faye – but he was almost positive this was what she tasted like. He almost wanted to find out just to be sure.
After a few more puffs, he handed the cigarette back to Faye. She gave him an unreadable look, but then resumed puffing on it as if nothing had taken place. Though she did let out a cloud of smoke with a long sigh.
Spike smirked. "An indirect kiss."
Faye blinked. "What?"
"Nothing." Bracing himself for the pain sure to come, Spike sat up and got to his feet. He could feel her eyes on him the whole time, making sure he didn't fall. Or maybe it was for another reason... "Nature calls, sweetheart."
She made a face. "Thanks for sharing."
Whatever look passed over Spike's face then made Faye pause, locking her gaze with his. "Ditto." With that, he hobbled out of the room towards the bathroom.
When he came back, Faye was gone. And that bothered him more than he'd like to admit.
~ End...?
Author's Notes – Well, there you have it. I was kinda worried when I first said I was going to write this. I mean, how could I write another SxF one- shot – focusing on Spike, mind you – so soon after "Ballad of Falling Angels"? I was certain I had bitten off more than I could chew. I mean, come on... this is where we get a look into why all this shit is going down between Spike and Vicious.
I was honestly going to disregard the whole thing. I had started writing this (at work again, too... surprising, isn't it?) and I just couldn't get the same feel I did with 'While You Were Sleeping'. I had even considered having it skip way ahead to after 'My Funny Valentine' so that Spike would have a little more insight as to who Faye Valentine really is.
Though, needless to say, I kept it as is. And in the long run, I'm glad I did. I really like how Spike is contemplating Faye's confession, but not really saying anything either way. After all, part of him is still pining away over Julia.
But anyways, I am satisfied, and I hope you guys are too. Although, I did kind of give it the same ending as before; that same type of 'how much did she hear?' type of thing. Maybe I'll do another sequel. But no promises this time!
In the meantime, keep reading, writing, and reviewing. Ja ne!
Author's Notes – Konnichi-wa, minna san! I trust everyone is well. You guys sent such awesome reviews that I had to find some way to thank you... (wow, that sounded really conceited, sorry...) But anyways, here it is. You guys were wondering what would have happened had Spike actually heard Faye's ramblings in 'While You were Sleeping'. As I promised, here is the sequel.
Well, it's not exactly a sequel. Let's just call it a hybrid between that and a companion piece. It's a look into our favorite lunkhead's introspective thoughts on life and general and how a certain Shrew's impromptu confession fits into that scheme. I wanted it to have the same feel as 'While You are Sleeping' but that just didn't work. It takes place maybe a week or two afterwards, but I had to keep in mind the events of "Ballad of Fallen Angels". Thoughts of Vicious and Julia are still too fresh in Spike's mind, so don't expect too much in the romance department.
Also, I'd like to apologize in advance if he sounds a bit too much like Roger Smith in some parts (FYI: that's from Big O). I was trying to use Steven Jay Blum's voice to get the right feel for the fic and it worked just a bit too well... or maybe not.
If that made entirely no sense at all, I apologize. So, without further adieu, here's the fic for your reading enjoyment.
Sleeping Awake
Julia is gone.
I don't know if she's dead or not, but I do know she's gone. At least, that's what I constantly tell myself. Night after night, I lay awake – a victim to my own thoughts – with this fact constantly taunting me. True, I don't seem like the type for introspective thinking, but when I'm alone like this I'm reminded of the fact that Julia is not here beside me.
Introspective, no; masochistic, maybe? Yah damn right.
Though I really don't care. Well, that's a lie, I guess. I cared about Julia – a whole lot, in fact. She's the reason I decided to give up my old life as a Syndicate thug. Something about her just made me want to be a better person. But it doesn't matter anymore, really. It hurts that she's not with me, but I suppose that was her choice. I wanted to leave the Syndicate to be a better man for her. I wanted her to come with me. Run away with me so we could live the rest of our lives together.
Too bad she didn't.
I guess there're a million and one reasons she didn't meet me at the graveyard that day like I asked. Maybe she lost track of the time, or maybe got stuck in traffic. There's also the possibility that the Syndicate caught her – but I'd rather not entertain that thought. It's times like this where it is my warped belief that she chose not to come because I was simply not enough for her to want to stay with me.
Yes, I'm pathetic.
But, anyway, I'm alone now. Well – that's not entirely true. I'm a bounty hunter now, roommates with an ex-cop and an ex-con – both of which are probably entertaining the belief that I'm a suicidal maniac.
Oh well. Can't say I blame them. I spend my days feigning existence; walk, breath, eat, sleep, smoke, repeat when necessary. Going through the motions of everyday life is just my weak attempt to hold onto what little sanity I have left.
Eh – screw my sanity, I lost that years ago when I decided it was cool to sleep around with my best friend's girlfriend. Strange that I can say that so easily now... I guess it's a bit harsh, but it's pretty much the truth.
Yes, Vicious was my friend. Yes, I totally ignored that piece of info when Julia and I started our whole taboo love affair. Yes, I ruined an okay friendship over a woman. Yes, from that day on Vicious became my worst enemy. Do I feel bad about any of this? No... not anymore.
The fact of the matter is that I'm not so bothered by that anymore. Hell, I can't really say I was all that bothered by it before. It's just that thinking about Julia and reminding myself that she's no long with me used to serve as a penance – I guess for pushing Vicious over the edge? I'm not so sure. He was crazy as shit before all this went down, but it didn't help us betraying him and all.
So, in short, I stole his girl. He found out and shit went south. I couldn't keep the girl, but neither could he so now he's trying to kill me out of maniacal, envious rage. This should bother me, but to tell you the truth, it doesn't. I really could care less.
Why? Well, for a number of reasons actually. For starters, it doesn't really matter – c'mon, don't look at me like that, it's true. People die. It's a fact of nature. Me choking on a bell pepper or Vicious walking in this room and shooting me between the eyes point blank does not change the fact that I will eventually die. It just depends on how or when.
Secondly, worrying over trivial things – well, things I really have no control over – wastes energy, and that's not something I have a lot of right now. Well, if you had been shot in the gut and blown out a cathedral window you'd be pretty exhausted, too. Recuperation does not take place over night.
And because I've been laid up on the couch for a couple of weeks, I've had no choice but to sit and reevaluate my life. Yeah, experiencing a near- death occurrence does cause people to take a second look at themselves. But, ironically enough, that wasn't the case for me. Yeah, I'd fallen a couple stories after being shot in the gut, but I've faced stuff like that before. It's not an everyday type thing, but let's just say I've gotten pretty damned used to it.
Like I said, death is coming; it's only a matter of time.
What? Oh, I'm getting off topic, aren't I? Sorry, I've got a lot on my mind. You of all people should know how that is.
Okay, bad joke. Don't look at me like that.
Anyway, like I was saying, the wake up call for me wasn't when I fell – it was what happened afterwards. Strangely enough, the first thing I can recall was hearing her voice – well, besides insanely, near-unbearable amounts of pain. She wasn't talking directly to me, I think she was talking to Jet on the comm.. My guess is that she was calling him to come pick us up.
Nothing though-inspiring there; after she hung with him, she just kinda sat there. She didn't talk to me all that much, she was just there. Strangely enough, that was all that mattered. Don't misunderstand me, if you'd have asked me what I thought about Faye Valentine 48 hours then, I would have said absolutely nothing. After all, what was there to think?
She was a woman. Well, that much was obvious. She was pretty damn good looking, too – but she was definitely lacking in the personality department. First, she tried to scam me at that casino, and then she robbed the Bebop blind. It's hard to stay mad at her though, she's pretty tricky. And she's not too shabby with that Glock of hers either – this I know from personal experience.
I got off topic again, didn't I? Ah well, like I was saying, women like her gave others of her gender a bad name. Not that I held women in general in that high a regard, but its people like Faye who leave a bad taste in your mouth. She's a thief, a liar, she's spoiled, whiny, spoiled, and did I mention she was a thief? Let's just say she and I really didn't get along.
Don't get me wrong, we worked okay together; we did have a few creative differences from time to time, but let me tell you – a few woolongs will get anybody to set aside their differences. Trust me on that one.
So, basically, I felt I was pretty set in my opinion of the untouchable Shrew woman. Yeah, she looked like a woman – dressed like a whore, though – but she was an all-out tomboy. After all, real women don't chug back six- packs and chain-smoke like there's no tomorrow, do they? There was no doubt in my mind that I would ever – and I mean ever – feel even the remotest shred of attraction for her.
Damn, was I wrong.
Like I said, I've had a lot of time to think about this. That whole incident not only helped me shed some light on myself, but it showed me a new side of Faye. She could have hightailed it out of there as soon as bullets started to fly, but even after everything went down, Faye stuck around with me. I still think it's strange how she didn't really say anything to me. I think most women would have been screamin' and cryin' and worrying. Faye wasn't like that though – which now I can admit I'm glad. She just kinda stayed by my side 'til Jet came with the Bebop – making sure I didn't bleed to death.
I wouldn't have thought much of it, but believe it or not, she didn't stop there. Normal people – when surviving an incident with the Red Dragon Syndicate, distance themselves from anyone and anything relating to that said incident. But surprisingly enough, Faye came back to the Bebop with us – well, with Jet and my comatose body, that is. I remember hearing the two of them talking over my head about how bad my injuries were. Turns out I needed a lot of extensive care taking and Jet couldn't afford to put me up in a hospital.
Not that I care. I don't like those places anyway – they give me the creeps.
Anyway, Faye could have left right then. After all, why should it have mattered to her? She didn't owe me anything, and she had certainly made it quite clear that we were only her 'comrades' when she was the one in trouble. Talk about your sunny-weather friends... but then, that was Faye – or the Faye that I thought I knew.
Can you believe she was the one who offered to look after me? Yeah, that's right, I said she offered. Nobody forced her; she just kinda stepped forward on her own. Jet was surprised – hell, I was surprised too; Faye never offered to do anything without there being some catch or strings attached. But here she was, volunteering to fluff my pillows, fetch my painkillers, change my bandages, chase away my inner demons...
I did say I did a lot of thinking during this time – I didn't say I was conscious for any of it. To be honest, I think I was out of it for pretty much all of my recuperation. I think the only times I was semi-conscious was when nature called, or when I was woken up from a really freakish nightmare.
There were a lot of those. Some tripped out shit, I'll tell you that. I guess that's what happens when you're in so much pain delirium starts to set in. Not fun. Most of time I was just reliving past hits that went bad – ones where I was on the receiving end of a gun barrage, or even facing down my own gun. Then there were ones that had Julia in them – I'm not even gonna go into those. Let's just say those were the ones I wished I could wake up from.
I think that's when I started gaining a newfound respect for Faye. I can remember waking up from particularly nasty nightmares only to remember her calming me down. She'd never say anything, but I think just having her there, feeling the touch of somebody who was actually concerned about me made me feel a little better. And when there were times where I was actually conscious enough to realize where the hell I was, she'd never mention anything about it.
I guess she can be honorable after all... But she did have her reasons – as I later found out.
I was lying passed out on the couch – drifting in and out of pain-filled consciousness. The painkillers I was on were just now starting to wear off, but I wasn't all that bothered by it yet. After all, she was there – like always – she was playing cards and humming.
Julia had hummed that song once. I remember because I had just had another nightmare that ended with her humming that song. She had stopped and I had asked her to sing it again. It's strange, because I remember her voice fading away to be replaced by Faye's. And I also remember liking her voice better.
Does that mean that I've finally given up on Julia? I know I said before that she was gone, but does this mean that it doesn't matter to me anymore? Has Faye's presence made my memories of Julia completely unnecessary?
I don't know... and I'm not sure I want to.
Faye had stopped humming to focus on one of the cards in her deck. Satisfied with her move, she started talking. This I was used to; every once and a while she'd just talk about stuff that was going on – Jet's latest hunt, what was new on Big Shots... stupid shit like that. Not that I'd shut her up or anything – talking took energy, and I do remember telling you I didn't have a lot of that.
Anyway, I kinda liked listening to her. I was impressed in how devoted she was to her task of 'taking care' of me. She never whined or complained about things like she usually did, and I found that when she wasn't bitching about something, the sound of her voice was pretty nice.
Then she said she loved me. Yeah, that's what I said. Faye said she loved me. She was just sitting there talking about what had happened in the cathedral that day and how she thought I was gonna die. I was pretty surprised to hear that she had been worried about me – from up until that point, the only things I thought she ever worried about was money and herself.
But I guess that's not really the case anymore, is it? I guess the Faye Valentine I thought I knew was just a front. The role she plays to keep everyone at arms length – even me.
Does it bother me now that I know the truth? Is the fact that she loves me or the fact that she told me when she thought I couldn't hear her bugging me more? Should I even be bothered by the fact that she said she loved me at all?
... I don't know.
She's attractive, I'll give you that. She can hold her own in a fight. She's also a pretty good partner when she's not busy whining about getting her cut. Being in dept up to your ass is a good reason to be concerned, but get over it already... damn.
Oh, I got off topic again, didn't I? I've been doing that a lot lately. Ever since that night I haven't been able to get her off of my mind. She loves me? Why the hell would she go and say something like that – out loud?! Damn, it's not like she ever planned on telling me. Does she think I'd never let her live it down or something?
What would I do? What should I do? I don't know how I'm supposed to react. After all, this is Faye were talking about. Faye Valentine, the Untouchable Shrew woman, the infamous Poker Alice, the gun-toting, chain- smoking, water-hogging untamable beast. Faye Valentine who eats our food, steals our gas and money, gets herself in trouble whenever possible, stays by my broken body on the steps of a broken cathedral, calls for help and keeps me from bleeding until the help arrives, stays by my side for days without complaint, chases away my inner demons I can recuperated in peace, and then says she loves me.
Damn. Do I... I don't know. What about Julia?
What about Julia...
What about Faye...?
~~~
"You rang?"
Spike looked up to see Faye walk into the room. She had replaced her usual ho-suit with a large, oversized t-shirt. His large, oversized t-shirt. He should have been bothered by this, but for some reason he wasn't.
She had a pack of cigarettes in her hand, fishing one out and placing it on her lips. Spike could only watch transfixed as she searched around for a lighter.
"On the coffee table, next to the remote."
Faye blinked at him a moment, studying his carefully placed deadpan expression. Following his instructions, sure enough, there lay his trusty Zippo lighter. Walking over to it, she lit her cigarette, taking a few puffs to get it lit effectively.
"So," she sat down on the edge of the couch, still mindful – he noted absently – of his injuries. "Who're you talking to?"
Spike blinked, glancing down at the floor by her feet. Ein was gone; so much for getting some answers. 'Damn dog.' Instead of answering, he glanced up at the cigarette pressed between her lips. His mouth was watering for... the nicotine... right... yes, definitely the nicotine.
"You know," he replied, his voice still slightly raspy. "I should get some compensation for the use of my lighter."
Emerald green eyes studied him for a moment. "Should you even be smoking yet?"
"What doesn't kill you, makes you strong."
She huffed, rolling her eyes. "Of course you would say something like that."
Spike only shrugged, though that did nothing to help his injuries. He blinked, suddenly staring at the cigarette being held in front of him. A slight patch of lipstick could be seen on the tip.
"What? You said you wanted a smoke, right?" Faye narrowed her eyes at his bewildered expression. Such a look was new, even for him. "It's the last in my pack. I don't have cooties you know."
With a small sigh, Spike craned his head forward as she extended the cig towards his lips. He paused a moment, his eyes widening a slight fraction. Couldn't something like this be considered an indirect kiss?
~ Whoa... too much thinking, Spiegel. You do not want to kiss Faye. ~
'Or do I?' He moved forward the last amount of space, allowing her to place the cigarette between his lips. With a few short puffs, nicotine flowed through his system, bringing his senses back to life.
He could taste her behind the smoke and nicotine. It'd been a while since he'd kissed a woman – and he'd definitely never kissed Faye – but he was almost positive this was what she tasted like. He almost wanted to find out just to be sure.
After a few more puffs, he handed the cigarette back to Faye. She gave him an unreadable look, but then resumed puffing on it as if nothing had taken place. Though she did let out a cloud of smoke with a long sigh.
Spike smirked. "An indirect kiss."
Faye blinked. "What?"
"Nothing." Bracing himself for the pain sure to come, Spike sat up and got to his feet. He could feel her eyes on him the whole time, making sure he didn't fall. Or maybe it was for another reason... "Nature calls, sweetheart."
She made a face. "Thanks for sharing."
Whatever look passed over Spike's face then made Faye pause, locking her gaze with his. "Ditto." With that, he hobbled out of the room towards the bathroom.
When he came back, Faye was gone. And that bothered him more than he'd like to admit.
~ End...?
Author's Notes – Well, there you have it. I was kinda worried when I first said I was going to write this. I mean, how could I write another SxF one- shot – focusing on Spike, mind you – so soon after "Ballad of Falling Angels"? I was certain I had bitten off more than I could chew. I mean, come on... this is where we get a look into why all this shit is going down between Spike and Vicious.
I was honestly going to disregard the whole thing. I had started writing this (at work again, too... surprising, isn't it?) and I just couldn't get the same feel I did with 'While You Were Sleeping'. I had even considered having it skip way ahead to after 'My Funny Valentine' so that Spike would have a little more insight as to who Faye Valentine really is.
Though, needless to say, I kept it as is. And in the long run, I'm glad I did. I really like how Spike is contemplating Faye's confession, but not really saying anything either way. After all, part of him is still pining away over Julia.
But anyways, I am satisfied, and I hope you guys are too. Although, I did kind of give it the same ending as before; that same type of 'how much did she hear?' type of thing. Maybe I'll do another sequel. But no promises this time!
In the meantime, keep reading, writing, and reviewing. Ja ne!