Chapter Ten:

Wonderwall

Today was gonna be the day
But they'll never bring it back to you
By now you should've somehow
Realized what you've gotta do
I don't believe that anybody
Feels the way I do
About you now

And all the roads we have to walk are winding
And all the lights that lead the way are blinding
There are many things that I would like to say to you
But I don't know how

--Ryan Adams

To say that Faye awoke with a pounding headache would be a bit of an understatement. She groaned loudly as her eyes fluttered open only to be met with the harsh sunlight that streamed in through the large bedroom window. She raised a heavy hand to her temple and, gathering all the strength she could muster, sat up on the bed.

She remained completely still for a few moments, waiting for the room to stop spinning and for the last dregs of fuzzy sleep to fade from her mind. When she opened her eyes again she realized she was wearing her black chiffon camisole and matching panties.

"The hell…" she muttered to herself, running a hand over the fabric of her nightgown as if in disbelief. Had she really chosen that to wear to bed? She remembered teasing Spike about it the day before, but she hadn't actually planned on following through with it. Oh God. Spike.

She was afraid to turn her head. Although she couldn't remember most of what happened the night before, the weight she felt next to her in the bed could only mean one thing. She drew in a deep breath and closed her fists as she mustered the courage to look.

There, lazily slumped against the wall on the far side of the bed, lay Spike, his long legs stretched characteristically before him. His hands were interlocked and pinned against the wall, his head resting gently against his palms.

Faye exhaled a sigh of relief. His eyes were closed. At least he was asleep.

As if on cue, Spike opened his left eye, keeping the right closed tight. "What up," he said.

What up? They just spent the night together and the best thing he could come up with in the morning was – what up?

Faye growled in response and pushed herself off the bed. She winced again and sucked a deep breath of air through her teeth. Her head throbbed painfully and for a moment she felt the floor beneath her tilt.

"Well, good morning to you, too," he said as he stood and made his way into the living room.

Faye walked to the large, open suitcase on the chair by the bed. She rummaged through the pile of clothes for a moment before finding a lightweight robe that matched her negligee. She tied the sash lightly around her waist and followed Spike into the next room.

The smell of strong coffee and donuts greeted Faye as she left the bedroom. Spike stood by one of the large windows and poured the black liquid into a large mug. He gave her a disinterested look and sat the pot down as she entered the room.

"Bastard…" she muttered under her breath. He must have come back to bed and waited for her to wake up so he could humiliate her. Typical.

She stopped in front of him and reached for one of the coffee mugs on the end table, looking up briefly to study his face for a moment. Without saying anything, she raised the pot of coffee and filled the mug to the top.

"I know what you're thinking, Faye, and you don't have to worry," Spike said, taking a sip from his drink. "I was great last night."

"Huh," she said, turning her back as she walked toward the couch, "so that explains the little prick I felt in my sleep."

"Ouch."

Faye sat down, curling her legs underneath her. She closed her eyes for a moment and relished the feeling of the warm mug in her hands. At least the strong scent of the coffee was slowly bringing her back to reality.

"I hope you're planning on putting something else on. We're meeting Bosch at eleven."

"You sure about that? We might get the job done quicker this way," she said, moving her arm away from her body and turning her free hand palm up as if to demonstrate.

"As tempting as that sounds, I don't think it'd be appropriate for a sting operation. It's a little more complicated than getting some poor sucker to part with his money in a sleazy motel room."

"Now, Spike, don't sell this place short. It is the Hôtel Pergolèse."

Spike rolled his eyes and she smirked at him.

"I don't care. Wear whatever you want, Miss Fine."

"Sure thing, Mr. Black."

Faye shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she stood before the towering building. She smoothed her hands over her knee length skirt and then tugged at the bottom of her tailored jacket. She turned and noticed Spike eying her quizzically.

"Stop squirming like that. You look nervous."

"Do I?" she asked.

"Yes."

As though she didn't have a reason to be nervous. It would be one thing if they were just trying to pull off a simple con. That she could handle – and, as far as Spike knew, that's what they were there for. Of course he didn't know that she'd sold him out. That she'd set him up. Faye suddenly felt as though she was going to be sick. And this time she was relatively sure it wasn't from the Midori. Oh, God…Midori. She groaned.

Spike nudged her with his elbow, "Quit it," he said, taking her arm roughly as he began to walk toward the building, "you're going to blow our cover."

"Not likely," she muttered.

Once inside the building Spike led her to the large reception desk to their left. They were greeted by a slender, serious woman with tight thin lips.

"May I help you?" she asked evenly.

Spike shot her a devastating smile. "Logan Black and Giselle Fine. We're here to see Mr. Bosch."

The receptionist smiled back at him and Faye swore the woman's cheeks had turned a deeper shade of pink. Faye felt her nose twitch.

"Certainly, sir. I'll let Mr. Bosch know you're here. His office is on the top floor, first door to your right."

Spike winked at the woman before turning away.

Faye jerked her arm from his grip so hard it hurt. "Keep your hands off me, Spike," she hissed.

They began walking toward the large elevator at the back of the lobby. Faye had to practically jog in her heels to keep up match his quick pace.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, Faye," he said, staring straight ahead, "But you need to snap out of it, now." His voice was low and even.

Faye clenched her fists so tight that her well-manicured nails pressed painfully against the skin of her palm. She quickened her pace and reached the elevator before him and pressed the button for the top floor firmly.

She exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding and let her hands relax for a moment. She crossed and uncrossed her arms over her chest and began to chew on her bottom lip. Spike was either not paying attention to her or had simply neglected to say anything. Faye wasn't sure – she just continued to stare straight ahead at the polished chrome in front of her.

The call sound of the elevator resonated thought out the empty lobby as it reached the bottom floor. Faye drew another deep breath into her lungs and then willed herself to expel it slowly. Perhaps things wouldn't be so bad. After all, it wasn't as though Bosch was after her.

Then, amid the heavy sound of the elevator doors sliding slowly open and the sudden scent of unfamiliar cologne, Jack Bosch appeared, standing tall in a well-tailored black suit.

Faye tensed, and she suddenly hoped that Spike hadn't noticed.

The right corner of Bosch's mouth lifted slightly and he gave her a subtle wink. She felt her heart hit the floor and she diverted her gaze quickly.

"Mr. Bosch," Spike said, stepping into the elevator, "we weren't expecting you."

Faye followed reluctantly, making sure to stand as far away from the both of them as possible. She leaned her shoulder against the cold wall of the elevator and focused her eyes on the ground floor button.

Bosch gave a full throated laugh, "I get that a lot."

For a moment Faye considered bolting out of the elevator, running the three blocks to the hotel and jetting off in the red tail to some far away region of hyperspace. Instead she stood completely still as the elevator doors closed on the three of them.

Faye could hardly believe she had nearly forgotten who Bosch was – the mug shot on the wanted poster looked like a completely different man … five o'clock shadow, unkempt hair, and a stained t-shirt.

Now that she had seen him, it suddenly all came back to her. She remembered seeing him numerous times at Red Dragon headquarters with Luke, though at the time she hadn't known his name. If she didn't know better, she might have assumed he and Luke were brothers. Or at least close cousins.

Bosch had the same commanding presence and squared shoulders. His hair was slicked back and his dark eyes were set deep into his face. And then there was the suit. Impeccably crisp with sharp, perfectly tailored corners. She might have found it handsome had she not learned that the only men who wore suits like that meant trouble.

Bosch cleared his throat. "I contacted M & A because I have a matter of – some importance. A matter which must be handled delicately."

Spike waited for Bosch to continue. Faye concentrated on the hum of the elevator as it traveled to the top of the building.

"I'm hoping you can be of service to me."

"We'd be happy to help – right, Miss Fine?"

Faye looked up and Spike shot her a glare.

"Yes. Of course."

Bosch shoved his hands deep into his pockets, giving her a self-satisfied smirk, "Good."

Faye placed her feet firmly on the floor. She folded her hands tightly and placed them on top of the polished mahogany table. The board room was exceedingly cold and she felt the skin on her legs and arms prickle. Or maybe it was just her nerves.

Bosch sat at the head of the long table in a large, leather office chair. A thick manila folder lay before him, and he idly flipped through its contents with his right hand. The room was dead silent save for the small sound of thick papers falling together.

The scene reminded Faye of something out of a bad movie – an evil villain meeting with his evil henchmen in a sleek, evil board room.

Bosch stopped fiddling with the papers and smoothed the folder with his hands, "As you know, I've recently come into quite a bit of money."

Spike nodded, lazing back in his chair. Faye rolled her eyes. Yeah, real professional, Spike.

"I called you because I'd like to discuss my options."

Spike leaned forward and placed his hands on the table, "Well, you have many options, Mr. Bosch. At M & A we specialize in – investment management. We take a look at the money you have to invest and then we work on coming up with an investment strategy together. We can consider stock options, government bonds – you name it."

Bosch nodded and crossed his arms over his chest, "It's that easy?"

"That easy," Spike said.

Bosch brought a hand to his chin for a moment, as if he were in deep thought. "I'll be honest with you, Mr. Black. I've got a lot of money that I'd like to keep under the radar for – security reasons."

"Well, I can tell you that M & A is not a publicly traded company, which allows us to remain less visible than our publicly traded counterparts. This also means that many of the company's business and financial dealings are concealed due to the nature of reporting requirements for transparency. In a nutshell, we largely operate outside of public view."

"I see."

Spike took a breath, "We do have other options for our clients who require … increased security regarding their funds. We have them first wire money to the bank accounts of our private shareholders. After that, the money is circulated in the public sector through investments in – say, the stock market."

"I'm afraid I don't see the benefit in such a process."

"Well, it's simple, really. This process insures that there is no paper trail left behind which can trace the money back to you. You essentially drop off the radar."

"And when I need the money back – ?"

"It will be routed to a private account of your choosing. Easy as that."

Bosch smirked, "Sounds clever."

"I take it you're interested?"

"Very much so."

Spike nodded toward the manila folder, "Shall we take a look at what we have to work with?"

Bosch pushed the folder toward him silently. Spike flipped thorough the pages for a moment, his brow furrowing before he handed the folder to Faye.

"Tell me what you think, Miss Fine."

Faye felt the blood drain from her face as her fingers closed around the thick folder. Tell him what she thought? Did he want her to blow their supposed cover? Spike was always the one who did the majority of the talking when they were undercover. He could speak endlessly on any topic and never seem to lose his cool.

She exhaled, opening the folder to stare at the front page. It detailed information about account balances at various banks and institutions. She noticed numerous invoices and other documents detailing business transactions. She flipped through the pages idly, noting various charts and graphs she didn't understand. One thing was clear, however – Bosch had an obscene amount of money. Not that that should have surprised her.

"How much money are we talking about here, Mr. Bosch?"

"Roughly 900 million woolongs. Give or take a few. I was hoping you could review these documents and give me an exact number."

Faye swallowed. She had known that trafficking bloody eye was profitable – but she had no idea how profitable. No wonder Spike wanted to bleed the guy for all he was worth. With that kind of money they could buy a mansion on Ganymede and live out the rest of their days as retired bounty hunters.

"Of course," Spike said, taking the folder from Faye's hands. "If you like, Miss Fine and I can look over the figures tonight and get some idea of our options."

Bosch smiled, folding his hands together and placed them on top of the slick table, "Perfect."

Faye sighed and let her shoulders slump forward. As she stepped out of the building into the bright sunlight she donned a pair of large sunglasses. Actually being away from Spike for the first time in a while was … somewhat refreshing. He had stayed behind to speak with Bosch about something – investment opportunities? She wasn't sure. She'd excused herself as politely as she could and practically bolted for the door.

However, her newfound sense of serenity didn't last long.

"Hey, Dollface."

Faye turned to see Luke leaning smugly against the side of the building to her right. A cigarette dangled from his lips and he pulled a lighter from his coat pocket as he spoke to her. "Come over here, babe."

Faye suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and made her way toward him.

"Hello, Luke."

"Where's your partner? I was so looking forward to meeting him again."

Faye shrugged, "With Bosch, I guess. He wanted to talk about – investments. I don't know."

Luke laughed at that, a large plume of smoke billowing from his lungs. "Investments, huh? He must really think he's got a shot at pulling this thing off."

"That's sort of the point, isn't it? Get him to fall for the charade hook, line, and sinker? Or have you changed your mind and want me to finish him off right now?" Faye asked, more bitterly than she had intended.

"Funny you should mention that," he said, standing up straight. He lifted one side of his jacket and reached for something in one of the interior pockets.

Faye swallowed and closed her eyes for a moment – as if that very action could prevent what she knew was about to happen. When she opened them she felt Luke place Spike's battered Jericho in her hand. Her fingers closed around the handle and suddenly her entire body felt cold.

"I want you to use this."

Faye huffed but didn't shove the gun back into his hands.

"Poetic justice, don't you think? I want him to know who sent you."

She looked into his dark eyes and he cracked another smile. "Come on, babe. You know it will feel good."

"I just want it to be over with."

"Oh, really? I was under the impression you were enjoying yourself. Your exertions at the bar last night were no doubt -- entertaining."

Faye pursed her lips together tightly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you do." He took another long drag off his cigarette and exhaled easily. Faye tried her best not to flinch, but something gave her away.

"You shouldn't be alarmed, Faye. I told you…I have eyes everywhere."

"Apparently."

Luke rolled his shoulders back and dropped the smoldering cigarette butt onto the sidewalk below. He ground it into the concrete with his heel, and as he lifted his foot Faye concentrated on the ugly grey streak of ash that remained.

"Look, at this point, I don't really care what you have to do to get the job done, all right? And I've gotta tell you, I'm really liking the whole – buddy-buddy, unresolved sexual tension thing you've got going on. It's brilliant."

Faye shrugged and readjusted the sunglasses on her face, unsure of how to respond. It's not like it was every day that her husband commended her for flirting with another man.

"Just remember why you're here," he said, taking a step toward her. Faye lifted her eyes to meet his, and, as she did, she felt his arm snake around her waist. He brushed her cheek lightly with the back of one hand and splayed the other against the base of her neck, his fingers tangling in her thick violet hair.

Faye felt her lips part as she took a breath.

"And I'll give you a hint, darlin' … it ain't to fuck Spike Spiegel."

"That's too bad. I was so looking forward to it."

The corner of Luke's mouth turned slightly upward, and he leaned forward to steal a kiss.

A/N: Well, there you have it. Chapter Ten. I can't say I am exceedingly proud of it, but what can you do? I am also publishing this chapter after reading some devastatingly awesome SxF fics, so naturally I feel humbled.

Anyhow, more excitement to come, though at this point anything could happen. I have a few chapters planned already, but working them in will probably prove to be a challenge. Lots of love to all you readers and reviewers – I know everyone says this, but you really keep me going! What can I say? It's true.

P.S. – Yes, I know that Oasis wrote Wonderwall. However, I think the Ryan Adams cover kicks the crap out of the Oasis version. Sorry. If you haven't heard it, you can check it out here (spaces not included, of course):

h t t p / / w w w . y o u t u b e . c o m / watch ?v8wV2AII4t8U

Simply beautiful. You must listen!

Laters!

Nevi