…I really…it was impossible to update until now…sorry…

* * * Ch. 10 – TO BINGE (Gorillaz) * * *

After days of nothing but continued sleep, of nothing but a life full of dreams, I wake up tired, bored, and wondering what it is I'm supposed to do next. I can't seem to find an answer that will put my mind at ease, so I spend my days considering nothing but a way to get myself out of the hole I am in. Except, it doesn't lead anywhere. And all I do is think. Repeating the same cycle over and over and over again.

It's very tiring. So, sometimes I pretend to believe in God and blame everything on his hatred of me. Other times I don't feel religious, so I convince myself that I'm a mistake of evolution's process. Either way, no matter how many ridiculous excuses I come up with, even if it's just to find something that will keep my mind momentarily at ease, everything is unsatisfactory. In the end, I'm still left feeling a need to figure out what it is I'm supposed to be doing.

What I find incredibly amusing, in a twisted sort of way, is that, in the past, I wasn't like this. Before I met Julia, I knew exactly what I had to do in order to make my life worthy. It wasn't ever much, all I needed was to get by. Nothing more and nothing less. It wasn't anything exactly noteworthy, but it wasn't something that felt so incredibly unbearable either. Yet, after my experience with Julia, just doing the same thing isn't enough anymore. For some reason, being with her made me aware of how lonely I get when I'm by myself. And now, I can't stand realizing that I'm alone.

If I think about it this way, maybe it was never that I loved Julia so much I couldn't be without her. And maybe it's not that I feel anything for Faye now. The more I think, the more it feels like I never really loved Julia. Like what I'm feeling for Faye is nothing but missing companionship. And maybe, it's just better for me to think about it this way.

I'm going to be fine, I tell myself, pulling the blankets away from my body, feeling the cold air nip my skin.

I stretch my body as I walk out of my room. I go to the bathroom and wash my face. Then, I stand next to one of the Bebop's windows, watching as we slowly drift in space. After a minute, I step away and begin exercising, making sure that I concentrate on nothing but the accuracy of my movements.

I don't notice when Jet first walks into the room. When I finally meet his gaze, he says, "I'm taking Ed back to Earth. You want to come along?…Or is there something else you need to do here on Mars?"

I continue exercising until I finish the set of bicycle kicks I'm on. After the last one, I sit up. I am well aware of what Jet's intentions are, and I'm tired of evading and pretending, so I tell him, "That night when you said Faye had asked for me, I called her…"

"And?" he asks, obviously trying to hide some of his curiosity.

I think about it for a little before I respond, "She didn't need anything."

"Then…" Jet says awkwardly.

I smirk at his discomfort. Why is he taking this so seriously? Even I, who is the one most concerned with Faye, have never realistically expected anything from her. But I know Jet's just trying to make sure everything is okay. So I say, "Are we staying in Earth for a while?"

Jet looks up from the ground and answers me evenly, "Nah. Ed's staying there for a couple of months at least."

"Ah, that's good to hear…," I say laying down, "it's going to be nice and quiet for a while then…" I hear Jet chucking under his breath as he leaves. Then, I begin a rep of reverse crunches.

We arrive on Earth in the afternoon.

Ed is very excited. Even before we fully dock the ship, she is already standing by the exit, her computer hoisted on her head and a bundle of things strapped to her back. Ein is at her feet, going around her in circles as she turns on her tip-toes.

When Jet releases the exit door, she opens it quickly and runs to the very edge of the ship. She sits her computer down and fidgets in place. I don't have anything better to do, so I chose to join Jet and see her off as well. While walking to catch up to Ed, Ein runs back and forth between the two spaces until we finally reach her.

"Are you ready? Do you have everything you need?" Jet asks her.

"Yep, yep!" Ed answers nodding vigorously. She spreads her arms and Jet allows her to hug him. They do this so naturally it irks me.

"Alright Ed," Jet says patting her head, "Take care and just let me know when you want to come back."

"That's if you even want to come back," I mutter a bit offhandedly.

Jet glares at me. He's about to say something but stops when he realizes that Ed has left him and has tackled my waist. My body locks up, and I stand there frozen. Jet laughs at me instead, and this is probably much more sardonic than anything he could have said.

Ed nuzzles her face on my stomach. "It's okay Spi-Spi. It's okay."

I grab a hold of her shoulders and push her off. "Ed, that's enough."

Yet, she latches herself on me again. "But Spike-person needs a hug. And Faye-Faye's not here for Spi-Spi to hug."

I glance at Jet, the corner of his mouth almost forming a smirk. I look at Ed again and say uncomfortably, "…since when does that happen? Don't say things like that."

She looks up, her chin digging into my abdomen, and says, "Okay! Ed'll zip it now."

I catch the emphasis she places on the word zip. I glance at her and she smiles mischievously... Zip…She couldn't possibly be referring to the zipper incident with Faye…How long ago was that anyway? Did she see then? Or rather, how much does she actually know? Just as I'm about to try and pry it out, someone calls out to her.

"Ed! Over here!"

Ed releases me and squints her eyes in the direction of her name. She shouts, waving her hands frantically over her head. "Tomato!"

"Tomato?" Jet and I ask looking at each other.

And while Ed is distracted, I take a step back, to ensure I'm out of her range. I look up and towards the direction in which Ed is waving. Further ahead I see that there is a boy around Ed's age. He isn't tall, but neither is he average height, it's an awkward in-between. He has shaggy dark brown hair and square glasses. He waves at her a little and starts running towards the dock. But he seems to run out of breath too soon because he stops and slouches over, his hands holding his knees.

"Tomato wait! Ed's coming!" she shouts at him.

She runs back to Jet to give him one final hug. Jet asks, "Tomato?"

Ed smiles widely, she giggles and says, "Tomato is Ed's Earth friend."

"Your friend…huh?"

"Yeap."

Jet chuckles a little, "Be careful, okay?"

Ed nods and salutes, "Aye sir!"

She picks up her computer and lets it rest on her head. She takes a running start and suddenly stops. Ed turns around and yells, "Don't be sad Spi-Spi!"

The cigarette nearly falls from my lips, but by that time, Ed has already dashed off running. Besides me, Jet's unable to contain his laughter. "The hell?" I say aggravated.

He slaps my back, still laughing, and literally knocks the cigarette out of my mouth.

I stare at the ground for a second, watching the rest of my cigarette being slowly wasted. "Damn it! Am I a freaking joke to you?"

Jet doesn't even attempt to deny anything and he casually walks back to the ship.

"Listen to me, old man!" I shout after him. But he doesn't answer. And I realize that extending the situation will not benefit me any.

For a couple of weeks, Jet and I roam around from place to place, chasing down whatever bounty we can in order to keep at least cupped ramen on our table for dinner. After a while, it isn't enough anymore. We begin looking for hunts that will give us enough of an income to at least eat bell peppers and make some repairs to the Bebop.

"Did you see this guy?" Jet says handing me a printout.

"Black Jack," I read the name. "Let me guess, a casino put this up because the guy was winning a bit too much."

"Yeah…that's pretty much it. But you know casinos, they're good when it comes to giving bounty hunters a reasonable pay."

"Are you going after him?" I ask.

"Nah, I just figured you'd be interested on him. I found the file after I had already started my search on another bounty."

"Tsk…you're giving me your leftovers…"

"If you want to think about it that way, it's fine. But I figured you'd enjoy spending some time in the casinos since it's been a while…I'm not that good with cards, so I don't like these type of bounties."

"I guess it'll be fine…But Jet. Are you trying something again?"

"What do you mean?"

"This casino is in the same city as Faye."

"Is it?" He asks. I hand the paper back to Jet so he can read it. He stares silently at it for a second. Then, he returns the sheet and says with remote interest, "Spike, only you would notice that."

I glance at the location again before laying the sheet on the coffee table. I stand up from the couch and say, "I'll look for someone a bit more worth my time."

"If that's what you want," Jet says as I leave the living room.

For a couple of months, who knows how much money I lose by evading hunts that will place me anywhere near Faye. Even when I finally receive the money from Pittman's hunt, Jet is the one to give Faye her share.

But, slowly, the apprehension that had built up in me dissipates. I'm not sure how it happens. One day, I just simply find myself very accepting of everything. Like it had happened before, I get used to Faye not being around. I get used to the fact that I'm wrong in wanting things to be different and that I should just let things be the way they are.

I don't hear from Faye. I don't see Faye. But I can't forget her either.

She's become stuck somewhere in the back of my head. I can't even smoke without thinking that she could be doing the same. When I drink, I can't have bourbon without being reminded that it's Faye's favorite. And it's not surprising that everyday something reminds me of her. Or rather, it's not a surprise that all my addictions remind me of her.

And a year goes by easily.

The bebop is quiet. But I can't say that it feels just like before Faye and Ed had lived here. Somehow, they've become a sort of presence that doesn't disappear anymore. They've permeated into the essence of the Bebop and it's impossible to forget the feeling of having lived with both of them...

Even then, Jet and I are able to go through our daily lives. Today, Jet is working on the boiler of the Bebop. I've got nothing to do, so I'm sitting in the yellow couch watching television.

I pay the most attention to the announcements for newly released bounties. Since I'm not in the mood for much, I'm hoping to get a few easy ones for a while. I see the details on each bounty. For a second, the reward of one catches my interest. But just as I'm about to read the name, the broadcast is suddenly interrupted.

The announcer is a brown haired woman wearing a blue suit. She says, "We interrupt this broadcast to inform you of the latest news regarding Commissioner Knight. New information validates that, apart from our commissioner, there were four other people captured during last night's incident outside of the Wagner Conference Center at 9:30 p.m. Sources confirm that within the group of five there were three men and two women. As of now, it is still unknown who the other four members are. The police continue investigations, but so far, they have been unable to identify the offenders. The representative for the case had this to say about—"

My body automatically reaches for the power button. I press it quickly then I slide back on the seat and close my eyes. I sit there, breathing.

I reach over to my communicator and dial Faye's number. I keep my eyes closed and the communicator pressed to my ear, hearing the monotonous tone of the ringing. The call ends and Faye's voicemail picks over. I sigh and dial again. But nothing changes. The voicemail picks over again and I end the call and press redial.

Jet walks in just then. He watches me briefly before asking, "What are you doing?"

I ignore his question and instead say, "When was the last time you heard from Faye?"

He pauses before saying, "…about three months ago I suppose."

"That can't be good," I say absently.

"Why? What's wrong?" he asks, a hint of worry creeping into his voice.

I press redial one more time and explain to Jet what I have just heard.

He becomes visually troubled. "Then…" he says, "…when was the last time you spoke to her?"

"…I don't remember…" I respond, not meeting his gaze.

"…That long ago, huh?"

"What?" I say facing him. Then, I smirk and jokingly say, "You didn't expect it?"

Jet stares at me for a second before laughing a little nervously. "I guess you're right."

"Anyway," I say, making sure my voice is relaxed, "the problem right now is that she won't pick up…Have you heard from Ed? Did she say anything about Faye?"

"She called yesterday to say she would be staying in Earth for a longer time than she had expected, but she didn't mention Faye at all."

After he finishes speaking, I don't say anything. The only thing I can concentrate on is the repetitive tone of the call. All I hear is the ringing. Ringing. Again. And again. And again. And then the voicemail picks up.

I feel so fucking angry.

How many more times am I going to be forced to hear this annoying message, that's not even her voice, before she decides to pick up. Because she's fine. She just doesn't want to bother with my call. But she's fine. She has to be.

This time, when I hear the beep, I don't hang up. Instead, I bite my lips briefly to keep myself from cursing and I say snidely, "Faye, what do you have a communicator for if you're not going to answer it? If you're going to be so wasteful, pay me back the money from Pittman's hunt."

I hang up and place my communicator on the table. Then, I stretch my body and lay down on the couch.

"I don't think that will work…" Jet says uncertainly. He sits down on the smaller couch on the opposite side of the table. "Why don't I call her instead?"

"Since I've called her so many times already, I don't think she'll answer your call either…Probably…she'll think I stole your communicator or something like that." I look over to him and say, "She'll pick up…eventually."

"Eventually…" Jet says, letting the word drag on. "Why are you so confident about that? Aren't you worried?"

I have to sigh before answering, "You're being so negative."

"Rather…" Jet responds, "…it's you who's being too optimistic."

"What?" I say calmly, "Do you want me to rush out without knowing anything?"

Jet doesn't say anything for a while. Then, he speaks carefully, saying, "I guess I really did read too much into it…Because…if it had been in this situation…even if it had just been Julia's name…you wouldn't be laying there so casually."

I clench my jaw shut.

"Am I wrong?" he asks.

I swallow.

"That—" I try to answer hastily. But I don't know what else to say afterwards. I'm unsure why. But I just want to prove him wrong. For a second, I want to tell him of how much I really think about Faye. Of how worried I really am. Of how it's taking all of my energy not to rush out. That I'm acting this way because I don't want to be stupid and do something unnecessary.

But I can't even do that much. Even considering actually saying it. Such ridiculous things so directly. If it had been anyone else. But because it's Faye. It makes me feel uncomfortable. Simply the thought of it. And without thinking, I throw my arm over my face.

Jet chuckles. And I hate it.

He says, "I didn't mean it to be such a serious question that you couldn't even answer."

I keep my eyes covered with my arm. I lick my lips and finally say, "…You know. Learn from your mistakes or some bullshit like that."

Jet laughs. "You're right," he answers without a single trait of cynicism. Then, he says, "I've got to finish the repairs…If she calls back, or if she doesn't, let me know."

I hear the sound of his footsteps fading away. And I lay there. Unsure of what has just happened.

With my eyes covered, I can really hear how fast my blood is pumping in my ears. I already know. But it makes me aware of how nervous I really am. It reminds me that no matter how much I try to pretend to be or to feel a certain way, I'm always unable to control myself. And the only thing I'm left with is the time I've wasted trying to alter the way things have shifted against me. The time I've wasted trying to rid myself of the stupid feelings that I can't control. Of the truth that I don't want to admit.

The truth? What the hell is that anyway…I don't even…

I sit up. And focus on my communicator sitting on the table. I stare at it intently, as if somehow that would force Faye to respond. I don't move. I simply wait. And then, just as I'm about to call her again, my communicator vibrates.

I instinctively pick it up from the table. The screen reads 'one new message.' I open it without bothering to even check whom it's from. But the words alone make me pleased. I look up to the sender's name and I smile; sure enough, the message is from Faye.

I turn to the hallway that leads to Jet. He's not in sight and I'm glad he can't see me now. I look back to the message and finally decide to turn off the screen. Even by doing so, I can't rid myself of the smile on my face. I cover my mouth with the palm of my hand. Seriously, how stupid am I for getting this excited about a damn message?

I bite my lips together and eventually I can relax my face. But that lingering feeling of contentment in my chest is still there. I can't believe I had completely forgotten. I couldn't remember what it felt like to receive a message from Faye anymore. I can't stop myself. I open the message and read it again: 'You're an idiot.' I smirk. It was so typical of Faye. So much like her that I could even hear her saying it. And somehow, I missed that a lot.

I rest my head on the back of the couch. It's a relief to finally get some response from her. But just a message isn't enough. I want to hear more from her. To at least hear her voice. Because the only thing that her message did is make me expectant. It makes me believe that she is willing to say more. That, even after all this time, she'll still speak to me.

I'm so dissatisfied it hurts.

So I dial her phone number and listen intently. It rings. And rings. And the voicemail picks over…Somehow, I had expected this much, so I simply wait for the tone. This time, I say, "You never change. Is that seriously the only thing you can think of saying? Anyway, I'm serious about Pittman's money, we are having bad luck and I'm tired of cupped ramen."

I end the call and stare at the screen of my communicator. This time, I don't have time to think about anything since the response arrives within seconds.

The message reads, "Starve for all I care."

Faye. I laugh a little and dial back. After the voicemail plays, I say, "What an inhumane woman you are. Poor Ed, she misses you so much and here you are wishing that she'll die of hunger. If she really knew how horrible you are, she'd be disappointed."

I hang up and nearly immediately I get the response: "YOU can starve for all I care."

This time, I take a second to think before calling her again. "What?" I begin the voicemail message, "You think that some of the money I earn doesn't have anything to do with what we use around the ship? You sure forget about how things work quickly."

This time, it takes her a long time to respond. I begin to worry that I messed up and that I won't hear anything from her again. But just as I'm about to give up, a message arrives. It reads, "I didn't forget."

I don't even bother to think and call her quickly. After the tone I say, "Admit it Faye. You're just not interested in the Bebop anymore. But that's completely understandable. You know, better things in life I suppose. But…you don't even— " I catch myself mid sentence and hang up quickly. I bite my lips. What the hell was I going to tell her?…you don't even…consider how much you trouble me…is that seriously what I wanted to say?

She responds soon, "Idiot. You can't even leave a message properly."

I smirk. Whatever my mistake, I'm at least glad that it provoked her enough to respond this way. I call her again and wait for the tone. I take a deep breath and calm down before saying, "That wouldn't even be an issue if you just bothered to pick up. You're being really childish by not answering my call. It's not like it's going to hurt your pride any to answer. Actually, it's me that's starting to feel ashamed of how many times I've dialed your number."

She answers quickly again, "Then stop calling."

I dial and after the tone I say, "Do you really think I would bother to keep calling you like this if there wasn't a reason? So…just answer."

I wait and I wait. And I receive nothing from her. For ten minutes, I sit there, tearing my mind into pieces and staring at my communicator. But nothing happens. And I can't stand it any longer so I decide to call her again.

The ringing makes me impatient. I have to stand up and walk around the living room to keep myself from chunking my communicator across the floor. The ringing stops. I clench my jaw trying to control myself and think of a reasonable message to leave. But the voicemail never takes over.

"…Faye?"

Still nothing.

I hesitate. But I'm sure she's there. "…Faye," I repeat.

It's quiet for a second. Then I hear her stuttering a little. She pauses awkwardly and then asks, "What did you want?"

Her voice.

The tension in my body immediately disappears, rushing from my fingertips into my core before turning into nothing. I laugh quietly for a second. But I catch myself and I clear my throat hastily. I manage to keep myself from laughing anymore, but I can't rid myself of the smirk plastered on my face.

Since I don't answer, Faye becomes irritated. She says annoyed, "Spike—"

I interrupt her before she has the chance to scold me. "Where are you at?"

"…"

Now that I've managed to have her answer, I know it won't be easy to get her to tell me anything. So before speaking, I force myself to stop smiling and I make my voice neutral. "I asked you something," I say slowly.

"…it doesn't matter," she answers quietly.

"Then…" I begin, "if it doesn't matter…tell me."

I hear Faye sigh. A second after she says aloofly, "I don't feel like it."

Even after several minutes of discussion, I can't get her to answer. She really is testing my patience. I walk back to the couch and take a seat. "Faye," I say. But I don't know what else I should tell her anymore. Right now, I feel so insecure talking to her. As if anything I say could be a mistake. I lick my lips and state, "Where are you at."

It's neither a question nor an order. It's simply the reality of how much I want to know. I hate the way my voice sounds. But if she will answer this way, I don't care about it at all.

"Spike…" she says.

"Where are you, Faye."

The words leave her effortlessly, without a moment of doubt or hesitation, "Silver Lake Park."

I smile a little and it becomes easier to breathe. I say, "Wait there."

"What!" She says fretfully, "Are you coming here now?"

"Sure," I answer, as if traveling there were as easy as walking to the kitchen.

"I…" she begins uncertainly, "I'm not going to sit here and wait for you."

"Why not?" I ask mischievously, "You've done it before."

"Just—" she says very offended. But then she suddenly stops. I hear her exhale heavily. "…Do whatever you want," she answers distantly, ending the call promptly afterwards.

I place the communicator inside of my coat. I take a few breaths and lean back on the couch. Faye is fine. She's fine…I close my eyes and take a deep breath again, realizing how tired out I am. In that short period of time, I can't believe how exhausted I've become. I close my eyes and relax for a minute before standing up from the couch.

I walk to the boiler room and call out to Jet. I lean on the doorframe as I wait for a response from him. Once I hear him acknowledge me, I say, "She finally picked up."

From behind the boiler, I hear Jet sighing in relief. He says, "Then, everything's okay?" I hear him standing up and then I see him walking towards me.

"It sounds like it," I say.

He cleans his hands with a rag, quietly saying, "That's good."

I glance down, "But I have the feeling she might try to do something stupid."

"Then…"

I force myself to face Jet, casually stating, "I'm going to go see her."

He stays silent for a while. "Good luck," he says.

"With what specifically?" I ask amused.

Jet laughs, "I'm not too sure myself, but I'm certain that you're bound to need it."

It becomes like a curse. All through the trip I have issues trying to make it to Mars quickly. When I finally arrive, I can't find a place to park my Swordfish. As I walk to the park, some idiot tries to mug me with a knife. He pulls me into an alley and shoves me against the wall asking for money. But I can't stand it anymore. I release every single ounce of my irritation on him, leaving him unconscious and probably with a broken jaw in the alley floor.

When I finally arrive at Silver Lake, I call Faye. But to my luck, the line is busy. Thankfully, having vented on my mugger earlier keeps me from going insane with impatience. So instead of complicating the situation, I decide to take a walk around the park. It's a nice afternoon after all, and it seems like a waste to spend my time angry at something I can't control.

Eventually, I find myself sitting on the same bench where I had met Faye, what seems like, ages before. Nothing about this area seems to have changed. The public telephone is still relatively usable. The bench is not missing any parts. Even the people seem like the same ones I had seen such a long time ago.

I spend the time just looking at my surroundings. And before I know it, it has already become nighttime. I decide to call Faye again. But, just as I'm about to dial her number, I hear her saying my name.

I look up quickly. And there, I see her, standing so close that I could easily touch her.

"I can't believe you actually came," Faye says.

It takes me a second to grasp her appearance. This time, her hair is long enough that, even braided, it reaches under her shoulder blades. I glance at her face again to make sure I at least recognize her eyes.

I say, "I can't believe how much you change. Next time, I might not recognize you at all."

"Well, how long do you think it's been?" Faye responds snidely. Then, she sighs and takes a seat next to me. Not on the other side of the bench. But close enough that I can feel her shoulder touch my arm when she moves. "But you know," she says, "…you seem to be the type of person that never changes much."

"Is that a good thing?"

"…I'm not sure."

And then we sit in silence. Watching people walk by. Awkwardly glancing at each other.

Finally, Faye asks, "Spike…why are you here?"

I glance at her before setting my sight on the trees across the walkway. I don't want to answer, so instead I reply, "I can't?"

She chuckles lightly. "You can do whatever you want."

"Then that's your answer…" I say uninterestedly while I light a cigarette.

Faye stares back at me. She elbows my arm and asks offended, "You're not even going to ask if I want one?"

I turn the cigarette box downwards and shake it a little before crushing it. "This is the last one."

She sighs and leans back on the bench. "Just my luck…"It's been like this all day."

It makes me suspicious.

All this time, somewhere in the back of my head, I keep asking myself: how worried is Faye? Did she sleep last night? How badly does she want to see Damian? How much effort is she putting into finding him? Because. Knowing Faye, there's no possible way that she has stayed cross-armed through all of this. I wonder how much she's actually done and how involved she has become.

But, right now, I'm not sure how to bring up the subject, so I can only ask, "Have you been very busy?"

Faye doesn't even bother to pretend and answer. She waits a second before saying, "How's Ed? She's not really starving is she?"

By evading the question, she reaffirms everything I had expected. But. Why didn't she tell me?…It's not like I have any right to stop her from doing whatever she wants… So, why now, of all times, is she choosing to not tell me anything?

It irritates me. Probably much more than it should.

"…I don't really know," I say distantly.

"What?" She asks quickly.

"I haven't seen her in a long while. She's been living in Earth most of the time now. It must be nearly two months ago that I last saw her—"

"Wait," Faye cuts me off. "Then, you—"

I interrupt her. I meet her eyes and say sternly, "I lied to you."

Faye hesitates. And then, she punches my arm as hard as our distance will allow it.

I clench my jaw shut, choosing to keep quiet and not say something unnecessary. But after the impact, the sting doesn't disappear. It's like my arm itches. So I decide to massage the spot in hopes that the sensation will fade. And in hopes that doing so will give me enough time to think of what to say or do next.

Besides me, Faye watches me uneasily. My reaction must have confused her because she keeps glancing at my arm. She falters, fidgeting with her hands. Then, she frivolously slaps my hand away from my arm. She places her palm on the area she'd punched earlier and rubs the spot in circles.

It's so strange.

The pressure from her palms seems so surreal. I glance at her hands. Then I glance at her face. And then I watch her holding my arm. "…What are you doing?" I ask thoughtlessly.

"Ah!" she jolts away. "It's because—I've just." She pauses and grunts. "I don't know! I'm so damn tired I don't know what I'm doing anymore! But I was really worried about Ed!"

"And Damian?"

"…what?"

I look away from my arm to casually meet her gaze, "Shouldn't you be more worried about him right now?"

She glances away a couple of times. She bites her lips together and asks, "…how do you know?"

"I saw it in the news…" I tell her, " He's got a good title. So it's unlikely that if he gets abducted it will go unnoticed by the media."

She says quickly, "It's not like you think…"

But she never explains herself. So, after a while I ask, "So you're not looking for him?"

Her eyebrows knit together. "Yes, but…"

And again, she doesn't finish her sentence. I watch her a couple of times, noticing that she's becoming visually stressed. I take a drag of my cigarette and exhale. Faye watches the smoke fading away with the same complex expression still on her face.

I can't stand seeing her so uncertain. I hand her my cigarette and say, "I don't know why you're getting so nervous. It's not like I'm going to chastise you over anything."

She meets my gaze once before glancing at the cigarette in my hand. Slowly, Faye reaches out and takes it. She doesn't say anything. She just takes a couple of drags. I try not to stare at her too much, but I notice when her shoulders start to relax.

She looks up again. "The thing is…"

I look at her. She doesn't say anything for a while so I ask, "The thing is?"

"…Yeah," Faye says giving up, "…I'm trying to find him…"

This is all I really want from Faye. Because, it really isn't all that hard to speak to me…is it?

I smirk a little. "Alright," I tell her, "Then, I'll give you a hand."

Faye falters, "What—there's no need—"

"Relax, would you," I say taking the cigarette from her hand.

As I take a drag, Faye says, "But you already knows he hates you."

"That's why," I answer easily. Faye stares at me oddly. I glance away from her and continue, "I mean, it's not like you can't tell it's the same for me. And since that's the case…Can you imagine what it'd be like if I helped him out of this? Every morning for the rest of his life, he'll wake up and the first think he'll think of is that he's alive thanks to my help. The person he hates so much saved his life…It'll be great."

I take another drag afterwards and I don't bother to tell her that that's only a fraction of my intent. That the main reason has nothing to do with Damian—that I'm doing it because she makes me fretful.

Faye grimaces. "That's—," she says making a face and taking the cigarette back soon after.

"…That's the way it is," I say distantly, "I'm still bitter about something he said a while back. And you know me. I tend to cling on to things for a long time way too easily. So, I guess, you could say this is my way of getting back at him and letting it end."

Faye takes the final drag of the cigarette. She puts the smoke out and a grin spreads on her lips, "…Why that?" She laughs, "This is…so…stupid."

Her reaction makes me smirk. "Call it what you want, but I don't think that there's anything worse than being indebted to a person you hate."

She looks at the butt of the cigarette and presses her lips shut to stop herself from smiling. She takes a deep breath then says evenly, "I don't want your help."

"You can't be so picky," I say confidently. "Sure you don't want my help. But, I'm sure you're bound to need it sooner or later…Anyway. It's not like I'm doing it hoping to get something from you in return. Like I said, selfish reasons."

"You're horrible," she answers smirking.

"Of course I am," I respond before standing up. "But at least this horrible person was willing to share his last cigarette with you."

"Tsk. If I knew you were going to be like this, I wouldn't have taken it." She stretches her arms over her head and then she stands up, lightly landing on the concrete sidewalk.

"You didn't expect it?" I ask mockingly. "…Anyway, is there a place nearby where I can buy more?"

"Yeah." She says pointing north, "there's one about five minutes walk from here…"

I get caught. And I simply look at her.

But she says curtly, "What, you expect me to walk you there?" She doesn't look away from my sight. Then, just barely, I'm sure that the tone of her skin becomes flush.

And then I realize that I've become a boulder. Not blinking. Not breathing. Simply existing there to take up space.

I blink and lead my sight away from Faye, focusing on the walkway instead. I take a few steps ahead, walking in the direction she'd given me. Thinking how ridiculously stupid it is of me to just freeze because she's there.

I exhale.

"Did you get shorter?" I ask purposely sounding aloof.

Faye takes a second to respond. "…That's really what you were thinking?" she says incredulously. I don't answer and I continue walking. After a while, Faye catches up to me and responds bitterly, "How can I become shorter? Idiot…I've always been this height."

But right now, I really want to give myself some space. I want to keep Faye from realizing that, since the last time we spoke to each other, nothing has changed. That I'm still unconvinced with her inept rejection. So I keep walking ahead of her with large strides, my hands in my pockets, hoping to give myself enough time to put myself back in order.

Except Faye catches up with me quickly. She pulls my arm back and stands next to me, latching our arms together so that I won't be able to walk ahead. Then, she touches her shoulder to my arm. "See," she says holding tightly, "this is how it's always been."

I give a couple of steps with Faye on my arm before facing her. First, I stare at her hands pulling me close and grasping my arm. I take a few more steps before even bothering to look at the height of our shoulders. I glance quickly at her. The instant our eyes meet, Faye becomes aware of our stance. Immediately, she releases me, somewhat shoving me away from herself.

It becomes awkward.

I can't stand the silence and I end up feigning ignorance, "You think that's how it was?"

As if I could forget. Though many things have changed between us, the one thing I've been unable to disregard is the feeling of Faye besides me. And I hate how aware I am that nothing good will come out of trying to force something. I hate that I end up having to act as if I'm not aware of anything. But at least it's enough to keep her from realizing my lies are an unskilled attempt to cover up how much I want to keep seeing her. And how much I want to talk to her. And how much I really want to touch her. But it's this kind of denial that allows me to at least have this much of her time and company.

After buying the cigarettes, we gain normalcy again and, for the rest of the night, we walk around town trying to follow-up some of the leads Faye had found earlier. It doesn't turn out to be much. And in the end, we end up sitting in a shabby truck stop on the edge of town trying to stay awake by drinking cheap coffee.

"Faye," I begin sluggishly, "it's nearly one. I think it's about time we quit for today…or go somewhere else at least. This place closes in half an hour anyway and there's really nothing else we can do at this point."

But she doesn't listen. She continues to glance at a sheet of paper, intently jotting down notes besides the names of the people we've managed to talk to. She finally sighs and leans back on her chair.

She says, "There must be an easier way to go about this."

"Some things take time," I answer distantly.

"I don't care." Faye answers hastily. "I just want to find Damian and get this over with."

I have to think about what to say before speaking. I clear my throat quietly and begin, "He'll be fine." Then, I add afterwards, "From what we heard, it looks like the people are after money. And if that's the case, I highly doubt they'd dare to damage even a single hair from his head."

She says quickly, "That doesn't matter."

I wait a second before casually asking, "Why the rush then?"

Faye starts folding the sheet of paper. She takes her time before saying, "I just won't feel satisfied otherwise." She rises from her chair as she finishes her sentence. "But. You're right. There's really nothing much that we can do for today."

Faye walks much too far ahead and I end up stuck with the bill. I'm too tired to argue with her about it, so I rush to pay both for our coffee and our waitress' tip before following after her.

Though it's late, Mars has always been famous for its nightlife. Being a Friday, it's reasonable that the streets are still covered in people. It's hard finding Faye in this atmosphere. Since I'm still not used to her current image, it takes me a little longer than usual to spot her back in the crowd. When I finally see her, I move closer to her, aloofly complaining, "Hey, Faye! Why the hell am I the one that's having to pay for every—"

"Well," I hear a slightly nasal voice, "Who's this?"

I stop a couple of feet behind Faye. She turns around and stares at me with a don't-do-anything kind of look. I'm a little confused by the situation, so I simply shrug my shoulders and follow her orders. But suddenly, a pair of perfectly manicured hands with hot pink fingernails dig into Faye's stomach. Faye jolts, in the motion revealing the person whom she had been hiding: a petite woman with a large chest and slick blond hair falling to her shoulders. Not the classy sort of woman, but closer to something you might expect to find at a strip club.

"So here's the reason I couldn't get a hold of you today, huh?" She asks, playfully elbowing Faye.

I bite my lips together to keep from laughing. Clearly, Faye is very uncomfortable with the entire situation. And her face. Her expression is just priceless.

Faye stutters for a second, then hastily tries to answer, "I didn't—"

But the woman cuts her short. She gives a step forward, standing between Faye and myself, and leans in closer to me. She extends her right hand and says in what I'm assuming is meant to be friendly and not seductive manner, "I'm Jess—"

Just then, Faye turns and wraps her arms under the woman's bust, lifting her from the ground and placing her where she had first stood.

The woman laughs so heartily, trying hard to remember and breathe. "Faye, you always do the funniest things," she says. She places her hands over her chest, patting the area between her collarbones as she catches her breath. "Anyway," she says peering around Faye's body, "I'm not Jess but Jessica. But I guess Jess is fine, my friends call me that sometimes. And you?"

"It's doesn't matter," Faye intercepts quickly.

I'm not even given any time to attempt and respond. And from that, I can immediately tell what my position is in this conversation. I catch Faye glancing back at me and I put my hands in my pockets, deciding to wait for it to be over without my involvement.

Jessica giggles, "Wow. You're both being so mysterious!"

"…not necessarily…" Faye says.

"Is he your honey?" Jessica asks quickly.

I snort.

Faye glares at me, responding, "He's not."

"Ah!" Jessica exclaims pointing one of her obnoxious-colored fingernails at me. "Is he your ex?" she asks. "Ah. Wait. You said he was a glasses-man." Then, she turns to me. "Are you wearing contacts? Did you lose one? I mean, because your eyes don't match."

I glance at Faye, but she doesn't respond. She is petrified on the spot, wearing the worst combination of embarrassment and anger in her eyes.

I find it hard to speak, unsure of what it is I'm supposed to be feeling like anymore, but I force myself to answer in Faye's place. "No, I'm not her ex either," I manage to say evenly.

Afterwards, I stare at Faye until she notices and becomes uncomfortable enough to meet my gaze. But she can't keep contact and she looks away multiple times.

But I want to know. I really. I really want to know.

"Oh, no! I'm sorry!" Jessica sincerely exclaims after realizing the awkwardness. "I said something stupid, didn't I? I'm sorry. I didn't. I just didn't want to make the same mistake twice. And so I wanted to know if he was your lover so I wouldn't fuck him. Because I didn't want things to happen like they did with Will."

Will?

I glance at Faye but her sight is locked on to Jessica for what seems like eternity. "…It's fine," Faye finally answers. She takes a while before she says anything more. And through that time, I can see her emotions settling. She says, "Anyway, I told you not to worry about Will anymore. I wasn't really interested in him to begin." She grins, "Really, I was only playing around with him."

Who is Will?

Jessica throws her arms around Faye. Just then. Jessica is someone very familiar. I only have to think about it once. I realize that, thought nearly opposites in behavior and appearance, Jessica is a lot like Ed. Somewhere in their very core. Their essence is alike. I wonder, is this why Faye behaves like this towards her?

"Are you serious?" Jessica continues, "I'm really glad. I've been worried about that this entire week."

"It's fine," Faye says assuredly.

Jessica pulls Faye's hand forward. "Then let's celebrate! At times like this, the best is to binge on the universe's best ramen!" She gives a step forward before realizing that I don't follow after them. She turns around and tugs the sleeve of my coat. "You're coming too! I'm buying so don't worry about money. You look kind of skinny, but I bet you can eat a lot of ramen too." She stops and turns to Faye, whispering, "Who is he again?"

Faye smirks. "Ask him yourself."

Jessica's eyes grow twice in size and she quickly releases my coat, giving two steps ahead in the process. "Oh my god. You're not total strangers are you? Did I get something wrong? Ah! I'm so embarrassed!"

I look at Faye and watch her struggle to contain herself from laughing. She glances at me and I can see she's enjoying herself too much to bother and clarify anything.

"I'm sorry," Jessica tells me politely, "can I ask who you are?"

"Spike Spiegel," I say shortly.

"That's right. Spike Spiegel." She seems to ponder about it for a few seconds before it occurs to her. "Right." She says, "…and?"

"And?" I repeat.

Faye laughs. She walks closer and rests her arm on my shoulder. Briefly. "I know him."

"Really? That's a relief," Jessica says happily.

"Ah," Faye says walking ahead, "but you should have seen your face just now."

"Faye you're so mean! Like I thought, you really are a very sadistic woman."

"But don't you know," Faye responds easily, "a great person once said that everyone's a little of both."

"I don't believe that. Because if I had to choose between the two, then I'm definitely a masochist!"

"It's fine if you think that, but I'm not sure how good of an idea it is to shout it so loudly."

Jessica covers her mouth quickly and she giggles before changing the subject. They continue walking ahead of me, talking about a lot of things I don't understand.

I feel excluded. Completely. But I follow behind them. Because I'm hungry. And because ramen doesn't sound too bad right now. Not because my shoulder seems to have gained a magnetism dragging me along with Faye's movement. That's definitely not why. Definitely.

* * * Ch. 10 End, Continued on Ch. 11 * * *

About…things: I felt very hesitant about posting this chapter because it technically is the first of two parts. But at 19 pages (typed up in word) it began exceeding the limits of anything I find comfortable to deal with for proofing and…well…just reading. Thus, I decided to end it here and the rest will continue on the next chapter.

Again, I'm really sorry, but I can't guarantee you a quick update. However, I must emphasize that I DO NOT DROP STORIES. So, even if it takes a while for me to get back on track sometimes, please keep this story in mind and be patient until the next update!

Also, thank you for all the wonderful reviews. I'm sorry I couldn't respond individually to you all like I try to do. I hope to continue hearing from everyone in the future.

(Who's the great person who said everyone's a little masochist and sadist? Dali. Salvador Dali. I wish I could give you the exact quote, but it's something I saw about three years ago while writing a report on one of his works. The quote was interesting, but not relevant to the report, so I forgot the exact wording of it...)