Disclaimer: Still don't own it
For a woman who claimed to have not a penny to her name nor any worldly possessions save the clothes on her back, she was certainly changing outfits like some kind of mad hatter with a shopping problem. Or maybe she was just a klepto. He'd never seen Faye actually shop, just gamble. For some reason his mind was stuck on replay and all he could think of was how she looked coming out of the bar.
She been dressed holiday version of his trench coat of blue crushed velvet and fringed with white fur. Somehow she'd managed to find the only one on all of Callisto that was obscenely low cut. The hood had fallen back to reveal her dark mane of hair. It was cold on Callisto, not nearly as cold as on Titan, but enough for the coat to be actually appropriate. He remembered wondering in the back of his mind if she had anything on underneath it. To complete the outfit Faye had on what could only be called 'come fuck me' stilettos, not heels, stilettos. It was these stilettos that greeted him when came to on the floor of Faye's bedroom.
"You could've at least rolled me over to make sure I didn't swallow my tongue," he rasped.
"That would imply that I care whether or not you died," Faye said walking out of the room. "Besides I thought that I'd take a chance on figuring out how you've managed to play a cat with nine lives."
"Apparently, not today," he groaned as he tried to stand. But after considering his pounding head he opted for crawling out of the room. He found Faye seated in an armchair in what he assumed was the living room with a bottle of whiskey in her hand.
"Don't' you think you've had enough for the evening?" he asked pulling himself onto her couch. It was still the same day right?
"Not nearly, I'm still conscious and you're still here." In contrast to her words she poured him a generous glass and pushed it in his direction. "The headache will pass in a few minutes and I assume you have nowhere else to go since you seem to be making yourself comfortable on my couch."
"Who was he, Faye?" The air in the room became thick and Faye felt her breath leave her for a moment.
"I don't need to explain myself, least of all to you, Spike."
She had no idea why she playing it like this, avoiding his question. The kid was just a bounty, some low-life who got his rocks off by violently raping and mutilating women like the one she pretended to be. Some kind of screw up notion of giving them what they were really asking for. After all who'd take a whore's word? It really wasn't a big deal, just money in the bank.
"What the hell did you think you were doing?" he asked, his voice harsh and biting.
She smirked, "Really, Spike… careful now, before you hurt yourself flexing that macho muscle." Not one of her better comebacks but it still grated. She rose to her feet, hoping she didn't appear as unsteady as she felt. Maybe she had had enough. She untied the coat that she'd yet to take off since this whole started purposely blocking her body from his view. She made her way to the bathroom to wash off her makeup.
Her muffled voice reached him from the other side of the door. "Look, Spike, I'm tired. Since I drugged you I guess I'm responsible for you til the effects wear off. Don't get too comfortable on my couch. I like the way it looks without you sleeping on it."
He succumbed to the pounding of his head and let the whiskey push him over brink into the black abyss of unconsciousness.
A/N: Ok, moment of truth. I've had this story staring me back in the face for about a month and I can't decide if I'm going to continue it or not. There are two other chapters written sort of... If you like it and want to see where it goes please review. If not I can take a hint.