Disclaimer: Don't own anything. I really don't. Ha! But yeah, uh hope you enjoy the story.

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The sun set was always a beautiful site no matter where and no matter what situation. The hue colors of the sky and the way they all faded into night was just a site to see. Photographers marvel at the site with the flash of their cameras to publish pictures in magazines for people of the same occupation to view and compare. Faye Valentine, although loved to watch the sunset from the dock at which they were stationed but she had a lot on her mind as she smoked her fourth cigarette from the pack which was now left with one cigarette.

The cold season's air blew shivering her with Goosebumps, so holding her cigarette in her mouth for a moment she put on her red long sleeved shirt and reached into the pocket of the pants that weren't hers and retrieved a lighter. The lighter was for when she was to smoke the last of the pack.

It wasn't like she was stealing the pants. They belonged to one of the shipmates and he was there, on the ship, but not really there. She wore the pants because they were comfortable and he really didn't need them right now anyways.

Inhaling from her cigarette and bringing it down she looked upon the frozen waters she blew out the smoke. After she finished outside, which she stalled quite nicely she had to go inside and change Spike's bandages oh is…mostly everywhere. Not everywhere though, because Jet changed most of the ones in the day time, and she took the ones in the night time hours. While she changed them she usually talked to him; like could hear her anyways. She could rant and rave and tell him all about her miseries and he couldn't hear or respond. She usually changed them before she went to sleep, and since Edward and Ein had left it was very quiet most of the time.

Who needs them, Faye thought, the fourth cigarette not cutting it for her she reached into the pack for the fifth one but due to her clumsiness it fell right into the water.

Shit, she grumbled to herself. She really wanted the last one. It was too bad it fell right into the water.

The bounty! She suddenly remembered. Jet and she had caught a con that couldn't play his deal in cards and lost to the infamous Poker Alice.

Easy Woolong. At least I'm good for something.

Sweeping all the butts off the dock and into the water she went back into the ship. With some Woolong she wanted to go to the store to buy some more cigarettes and maybe some junk to eat. It was crazy because she was craving some hot spicy cheesy potato chips and she hadn't had them in years, and for some odd reason she wanted some.

Inside it was as she had expected it to be: quiet and dark without the possibility to trip over the kid or her dog, or for the most part for them to appear out of nowhere and scare her half to death. They were annoying but helpful, and even though she couldn't stand them most of the time right now she missed them; the way things were and the way they were supposed to be. It was good, it was bad but it was what it was. Now it was just empty and quiet. One day she wished it would all return to normal, well the normal that she was used to anyway.

Stepping into the common room which placed the yellow couch and television laid the unmovable Spike Spiegel who, even though she tried to stop him, went off to find himself and in doing so left himself near death, lost many influential people in his life and was now a person who was left on the couch to awake. The doctors said he was to awake a day within the week and this was day one. Not being needed to be hooked to machines he did need his bandages changed, and the two other shipmates were left to that.

He had to wake up sooner or later. After all he was breathing, he just needed to open his eyes and be strong just like Jet.

After thinking he was going to die; that it was his last time flying Faye came back with the sob story and he realized that it wasn't any time near that time. It was time to actually become stronger.

Looking at him on the couch she just stopped and stared like she always did. He didn't move and his eyes stayed closed. Why wouldn't they just open. Why wouldn't he be well and one day she'd be walking past and he'd just be sitting there smoking a cigarette with some cheap smart comment to send her way and have the cigarette be snatched out of his mouth by her. But, he didn't have any more cigarettes because they were in his pants and she was the one who had his pants in which "found" the cigarettes and yeah, you know how it would follow. If he did wake up one day it would be different and not the same that she was hoping for. New good times should roll, right?

Picking up the blanket that somehow got on the floor she tossed it onto him and walked out. She would have to look at him later and change his bandages.

Going into her room she retrieved her brown winter jacket and took he red long sleeved shirt off and threw it onto her bed which was of course not made. Stuffing some woolong into the pocket she left the messy room, door open and all. She didn't have to close the door because no one was going to go into her room, and the only things that she had of value consisted of her various types of bracelets for her ankles and wrists which secretly held devices to get her out of situations and her gun. Everything was neatly tucked under her bed, and it wouldn't be bothered.

"You need anything Jet," she shouted once she was in corridor. If she wanted something she would get it for him. Sometimes he had difficulty walking because one of his knees had arthritis and when storms were in the forecast he would get pain there foreshadowing the plan of precipitation.

At one point when everyone was going off in their situations and leaving him he did not kick them out. When she found out there was nothing left for her he let her stay, after all she was a part of his crew since she first made her apart of In the first place.

"No," he shouted and she guessed that he must've been in his room of bonsai trees tending to them.

Walking out it was still very chilly and now a light snow had begun to fall, and the option of going was still up. But, since the snow started with a light layer on the ground and not knowing where a simple store was or if one was open she thought of waiting. The only thing that got to her was the craving for a cigarette and it was very strong. The reason it was so strong was because of everything that happened, but it was long over and what bothered her now was that it constantly ran through her head when she least wanted it to be there.

The slums, that's what the long dock turned into and the atmosphere turned to dirt, poor, and run downed and hidden amongst it all the perverts who would be following her at any moment. And as if on cue she had her first contestant. He thought he was sneaky hiding in a close ally and behind cars, but he was not sneaky at all. If she got him arrested for harassment it would only put him locked up until she was away. If he was a bounty which she crossed her fingers she could make some easy woolongs. Any amount would be good right now.

Her plan was perfect and while she walked it unraveled in her mind: first side step him and corner him into the alley, and start all this ill-conversation about stalkers and how it was daring.

"Your Faye Valentine," a little to consume in her own plan she felt the voice of him on her neck and the cold hard press of metal go against her temple.

Shifting her eyes she was the perfect image of her "stalker" and he was sure a grease ball. With smothered brown hair to his forehead, glasses as thick as glass, hair all over his face and a belly so fat it made Santa jealous he was dressed in civilian style clothing and didn't look like someone she had seen before that chased after her. He didn't look like a bounty on the news or a description of rumor that she heard around. Maybe, as she soon hoped he would go up and she could knock him so hard in the head that that the grease would rain all over him mixing in his blood that would sure spill.

"Who wants to know," she said as well as she could put the sweetness she'd know he'd love in her voice, with not trying to sound fake.

He removed the metal from her temple and slapped the gun across her face.

"You owe money Faye Valentine, and we've been waiting for it. Where is it?"

Oh great, Faye thought to herself, a bill collector. No wait, a fuckin' bill collector. Obviously they didn't know when to quit, but they did know where to stalk because in most places she ventured off to they seem to be there or later on went there. It was like she was famous or something.

Wiping the little trail of blood that made its way down her lip she side glanced the other direction and another more quicker course of action fell into play and seeing the gun, and the guy ready to strike her again she chopped the arm with the gun up which fired a shot into the air, and with a kick from a white booted foot she wasn't out of hot water yet as of the gun was on the ground and they both eyed it.

With a kick it was kicked into the street which had oncoming traffic and runned over it, was gone. The guy looked scared now on the ground. He didn't look tough without protection.

"You're not so big now without a gun," Faye thought but that was all that was comprised from her. He wasn't a bounty hunter, but a bill collector, well debt collector for her. There wasn't really any use from him. Bending down next to him and in her shrewd way she shouted in his face loud enough for him to hear her, but not loud enough for the anyone else to, and even though she wanted to laugh she spoke smart-assly, "If you come after me again I'll be the one pressing metal into your head and the gun will loaded."

The guy from being a terrible mess stopped shaking and actually smirked as his arms came out from infront of himself and he actually had another gun.

"Oh shit," she cursed herself. Caught up in her victory and putting it in his face she didn't see him reach into some odd compartment in himself, to see that he actually had another weapon on him.

"I gotta go," she said jetting as fast as she could, but not got long because then in stepped a few other men with the same apparent idea.

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Walking into the ship awhile later she expected it to be quiet. The earth time at the moment stated eleven forty-five, so wouldn't that go as well for the ship. Jet should be retired to his room because if he saw the condition of her he would've helped her but said many things in the progress that she quite frankly at the moment she didn't want to hear. It would be like going out late at night and having been caught by her parents and now they would complain her ear off.

Her luck never seemed to be with her because she walked into the common room lights on and Jet was changing Spike's bandages which were supposed to be what she was supposed to be doing.

"I'm supposed-"

"You were supposed to do these two hours ago," he yelled out at her as if she was a child, and he didn't even bother to look at her. She could tell he was angry because he took out some of the frustration on changing the bandages on his left arm.

"I got held up," she said calmly and stood just a few feet away from him. She still had her coat on and her hands stuffed in her pockets because they were still cold from the walk home.

"You got held up," he repeated, "Well you-" he sharply turned in her direction and whatever he was going to say to her died in his mouth and he was no longer mad but a sad look appeared in his eyes that he always tried to hide but she saw it. The look was because I could not pay my debt, and the main reason I could not pay was because every time I had money I'd always blow it. I gamble it away which happened to be my downfall. But I don't really care, whatever.

He turned back around and continued with the bandages.

"I'll fix you when I'm down," he said.

"Don't worry about me," she said calmly and took he hand out of her pockets, "Let me just wash up and I'll finish him," she said feeling bad about her situation and everything bad that was going on around her: Jet doing my job, the bum who wouldn't wake up, the stupid kid and just everything. I can't take it, and it's always there in the front of my head.

Faye walked away and just walked into the bathroom. Clothes off, she stepped into the shower turning the water to cold. The water pelted down from the shower head like sharp icy needles chilling her very much. The numbness seeps in and nothing is felt. Numbness takes away the unwanted pain and the pain that she just felt.

The pain of knives against my flesh and the foulness of all those beast and their fuckin' grimy hands just makes it feel all the more dirtier. All of this makes me sick to my stomach. Now that I had received my threat in the price of destruction of my pride and self I have to find and wear something that will not give me the unwanted attention that I so uncanningly love to receive.

No soap to her wounds she didn't want to feel anymore stinging. With her luck though as soon as she got out of the bathroom she would slip on some salt landing on her back adding salt to her wounds, as if they didn't hurt already.

Wrapping herself in a towel she went into her room and opted for a sweat shirt and her grey shorts. Her headband which was on the bed with the red long shirt anyways was now covered upon with a towel.

Going into the room of Spike and Jet she tapped him on the shoulder which signaled for him to stop. He looked at her with that expression again, stood up and sighed.

"Let me help you out," he said on the reassuring side.

"No, I'm fine," she said eyes downcast not looking at him but picking up the medical tape, "I can take care of it after all I hadn't returned early enough to do my job and you were doing it," she said.

She could tell he was thinking the same thing she was, so before he disappeared into the recesses of the ship he looked down at Spike.

"Good night Faye," he said and walked off.

"Take care Jet," she said softly whether he heard her or not. With a stool that she just found recently behind the stairs she now always used it when she was taking care of him.

"You know you're just taking up space," she laughed and wrapped the bandages around the arm that had already been cleaned luckily for her, "You better not die on this couch," she spoke as she lifted him slightly and sat under his head so she could change the bandage around it. She kept telling her, no, willing herself not to cry as she continued, "If you die on this couch I will not be able to sleep on it again, let alone sit on it. It will be a constant reminder of how I could not stop you and ruined the ceiling in the hall which also reminds me. This whole thing would be palced on me and I don't want that. Wake up, wake up!" she practically screamed at him. The bandage around his head felt the anger as well; the second time that night someone took out their anger on poor Spike's body. If he was awake he would be sure to let them feel his wrath.

……If only he was awake.

"One day I'm going to get enough money to pay my debts and then I will have no more assholes coming after me or following around everywhere we land. I'm going to next find the man of my dreams and settle down, and I want to have a child. I know that I said I hate children but I want one so it could know truly what love is, and I will take care of it and make sure it knows that the people around it know that they love it too."

With the completion of bandages and everything secure she draped the blanket on him and stared down at him. This week will tell whether he wakes up or not.

"Good night lunkhead," she whispered before turning off the light and descending down the hallway toward the bedrooms.

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What do you think so far? Let me know. I'm going to see Harry Potter tonight at 9:45. Yeah! I hope I get reviews for when I come home.