A/N: Ok, fairly short chapter. This is actually the last chapter I've ever sent out for this fic. Last time, it was at this point that the fic was deleted. So next chapter's going to be a new one, lol.

I didn't get a chance to reply to Sophie or Xxps for the simple fact that they weren't signed reviews so I can't reply to those. I hope I got everyone else though. If not I'm so sorry. . For Sophie though, don't worry. The story is actually close to winding down to the end. In a few chapters I get back fully into the entire explanation of who Jack is before ending it. :) Hope that makes you feel better! I also still remark about Spike's hair this chapter but it's mostly Faye making fun of it.

I basically just fixed up the chapter to send out, leaving most of it the same as the original post years back. Hope you guys like it.


Chapter Twenty-Seven - Safety:

In the other room Faye listened as Jet mumbled to Doohan in the kitchen area, her head hanging back over the top of the couch. She lifted the cigarette to her lips, her legs crossed and bouncing in boredom. Doohan had pitched a fit at the prospect of visiting a bank to transfer the funds. To which Spike had mischievously responded that if he refused, he would not get paid for his services. As it was, with the payment for the artillery, Doohan was also getting a hefty tip for his services. She lifted her head momentarily as the whispers fell away and then let it slip back again when they resumed, her eyes closing.

"You nap sitting up now?" Spike's voice drawled and a second later he plopped down beside her, upsetting her balance a bit. She squirmed on the yellow couch, frowning at him as her eyes came open and beside her he was reaching toward the table to a familiar pack of cigarettes. "These better not be mine."

"I don't know whose they are," she lied, shifting her eyes away as she exhaled lazily. "They were lying on the couch when I got here."

He lifted the pack and examined it curiously. And then, with an arch to his brow he looked at her. "Faye, you're the worst goddamn liar I've ever known."

She refused to say anything to that, turning onto her thigh as she bent a leg under her rear, lit cigarette slowly building ash. Propping an elbow along the top of the couch, she brushed back her hair as it jumped toward her mouth, tapping out the ash into the small ashtray she'd placed on the couch beside her.

"You seen VT?" Spike asked her as he pulled out a cigarette for himself and then looked for a match with which to light it.

Faye leaned back once more, bringing the cigarette to her lips. "She took the money and left. Said she'd drop you a line once the money cleared." And she tilted her cigarette to him invitingly.

Spike nodded in acknowledgement and leaned over, bringing his cigarette close.

"Oh, yeah." Faye pulled her cigarette away as she feigned suddenly remembering something and beside her Spike immediately slumped, his unlit cigarette hanging limply from his mouth. "I was meaning to ask what you and Jack talked about."

"My cigarette," he mumbled to her wryly, face hidden by his bowed head.

"Answer me first."

"Cigarette first," he grumbled.

"No."

"Faye."

"Answer me first, Spike, or I put out this cigarette and neither of us smokes," she said threateningly, an eyebrow arched at him.

He lifted his head to stare at her as if she had just killed his favorite puppy. "Anyone ever tell you you're cold? No pun intended," he drawled. As she slanted him a glare he sat back up to lean against the couch once more and said, "We talked about his connection to the Syndicate."

She stared at him. "You're lying."

He stared right back, unlit cigarette bouncing between his lips. "Why would I lie?" he asked her.

"Because you're Spike. It's what you do."

Spike tilted his head at her sardonically, fishing the cigarette out of his mouth and clutching it between two fingers to speak. "I'm the liar, Faye? I am? That's rich coming from you. I'll admit to being a killer. I'll admit to being a bounty hunter. Hell, I'll admit to tax evasion. But why lie? It's more fun to see the look on your face when you can't handle the truth." He paused, observing her intently. "See? You're getting the look now."

A moment later he ducked her fist which glanced off his shoulder. And although he had a smile on his face when he sat back up straight, Faye did not. She stared at him for a long moment as his smile slipped away and she whispered bitterly, "Why can't you ever just be fucking honest?" And with that she put the cigarette out on the table before them, ignoring his small sound of disdain. Rising to her feet, she took hold of the ashtray, tossed it onto the metal table with a clatter and strode off toward her room angrily.

He stared off after her for a moment, hearing Doohan and Jet get quiet as she stomped to her room. A moment later the door swished closed and there was mere silence in the hallways.

A second after that Jet called down the hallway, "Now what did you do, Spike?"

He tilted his form a bit to glance down the long corridor toward the end. "She hit me first!" he shouted indignantly.

"Well, do something! I don't want to hear the two of you argue the whole day!" Jet ordered back down the corridor.

"What? Why?" Spike demanded and he turned to the metal table, lifting his legs to prop them up on the hard surface comfortably. There was no way in hell he was going after that woman. Sometimes silence was a very good thing. She stayed in her room, he stayed in his and everyone was happy.

"Because if you're on her bad side we'll never be able to dip into the woolong we stole from Black Jack! Faye had Ed password-protect the account on top of the usual pin codes!" Jet's voice came back down the hallway with an edge of taunting. "If you liked the beef you got with dinner last night you better work up the balls and talk to her!"

Spike hesitated a nice long spell. Could he go back to bell peppers with no beef? Hell yes. But if he banged up the Swordfish II the way they had before he was going to need that woolong to fix her up. But what were the chances they would wreck the ship like that again? Sure, he banged her up but he took good care of her, normally.

"Spike!" Jet barked, his tone sharpening.

With a growl he stood up, tossing the unlit cigarette aside bitterly, and stormed off after Faye. Jet watched him as did Doohan, the gruff mechanic seeming to roll his eyes. And then the two of them went back to hushed whispers, Jet nodding at something Doohan asked, blueprints unfurled across the kitchen table.

Clenching his jaw, Spike paused before Faye's door, bristling for a moment before rapping his knuckles on it. "Faye."

"Drop dead," came her voice from within.

With a twitching eyebrow he smacked the console and ignored her cry as she sat up on her bed. "I've already died twice and the second time I did, all you did was bitch at me. Do you really want me to drop dead?" Without waiting for an answer he stepped into the room and allowed the door to slide shut behind him.

"I didn't invite you in here, Spike," she said to him crossly but she stretched out on her bed once more, arms crossing behind her head for cushion.

"When did I ever really need an invite, Faye?" he asked her and he moved further into the room, leaning down to shove her legs aside for a seat. The gesture brought her to hiss at him angrily but he ignored it, plopping down at the foot of her bed. "We both know if I came in here in the middle of the night wanting to sleep with you, you'd let me."

Faye opened her mouth to shout at him indignantly but as he slanted a look at her she clamped down and closed her eyes, her eyebrows drawing in. "You don't have to wave it in my face, Spike. Don't you think I wish I had never said anything to you? Damn right I should have kept my mouth shut. It would have saved me a headache and a half."

"And why did you tell me, Faye?" he asked her, prodding her on with a look.

She paused, sardonically thoughtful. "Because I was drunk out of my head?"

He paused as well, his expression clearly reading that he would have to give her that one. "Why else?"

She sighed, falling limp once more on her bed. "Because it did me good." And she clamped her mouth shut once more, refusing to say anything else or elaborate more.

Spike continued to stare at her closed eyes but a small smile curled his lips. "You wanted to know what I spoke with Jack about."

She went still but remained sulky, her jaw clenched tight. "Not anymore I don't."

He faced forward once more at her words, hunching over and propping his elbows on his knees. "Yes or no, Faye? Because once this offer is off the table, that's it, it's gone."

Faye turned her face away, head tilting across her pillow.

With a small nod Spike slapped his thighs and began to rise. "Ok, then, Romani, suit yourself-" And he made a small confused sound as she suddenly sat up and took hold of his elbow, forcing him to look at her in surprise as he staggered slightly.

"Yes, yes, yes, ok! Just spill it already, damn it!" she huffed at him, green eyes narrowed impatiently.

He let that simple smile curl his lips again and sat down once more, twitching a brow for her to release his elbow. "That sounds more like you-"

"Shut up and talk!" she shouted at him.

A humorous expression drifted across his face at her sentence but he brushed it aside. "Ok, well when I got him pinned to the wall I just insulted him at first because…well, he needed to be insulted. I'm not a fan of his swagger or his attitude. You can't run a syndicate with an attitude like that."

Faye stared at him as he spoke, already bored.

"So, I don't remember how exactly I asked him because he has this very annoying strut to him, which was really ticking me off-"

"You realize you're talking about yourself, right?" Faye asked him blankly.

He stared at her. "I'm talking about Jack."

She shook her head at him. "No, Spike, you're trying to make it seem like you're talking about Jack but everything you just said in the last few seconds has described you. Exactly you." And she shook her head at him then, closing her eyes once more. "It doesn't matter, just tell me what was said."

Spike threw her a confused look but continued on after a hesitant moment. "Anyway, I had him pinned to the wall and I said something like, 'Restorative Practice, don't think I don't know what that means,' because if you recall, unless the day we read up on him you were very drunk and couldn't remember, that was what he had studied in college."

"Right, you arrogant lunkhead."

"So he kinda smiled, which really made me want to punch him dead in his mouth and he says, 'You would have appreciated my help a few months ago,' and I think it was around that time that you weren't looking but when he said that I did punch him in the face. I really enjoyed it, too. Kept wishing I'd loosened a few teeth-"

"A few months ago?" Faye asked him quizzically. "When you had that showdown? With Vicious?"

Spike slowed then, his face becoming grim. "That's what I guess he had alluded to. Actually, wait, my timing is wrong. I hadn't punched him yet. But he mentioned what he did and I asked about myself although I remember now Jet saying he'd had me taken care of. But then Jack said not me. Julia. And that's what he had meant." He paused. "Then I punched him."

Faye stared at him, feeling suddenly heavy. "I see."

Spike nodded. "So, I asked him about Julia, if he had been involved and he said no, that what happened with Julia had nothing to do with him. That the Syndicate had been different once I defected. Went on to insult me so I hit him again."

"Insult you how?"

Spike shrugged, turning from her and leaning over once more to rest his elbows on his knees. "Stupid crap about how it was my fault that she was dead. That I had dragged her into it. And he's right, in the end. It was my fault but I don't need it thrown in my face by every goddamn guy from my past."

Faye sighed. "Or every goddamn guy from my past," she murmured.

Spike glanced at her. "We talked about you, too. About how you knew him and how you had remembered where you had encountered him. From the picture."

Faye looked around quickly. She had forgotten all about the pink photo album. But it was hers. She wanted it now. She wanted that piece of her past back even if it would only ever stare back at her from photos. "The photo album. Where is it?" she demanded.

Spike motioned to the door absentmindedly. "I have it in my room. Buried under dirty laundry."

"You're an ass, Spike."

He smiled at her words. "Maybe, but I can get to the heart of the matter." he said to her cheerfully. And he shrugged again. "That was about it, really. That you remembered him and he just kinda threw me a look, told me to watch myself. And then you guys were hurrying me along so I knocked him out," He splayed his hands. "The end."

Faye chewed on her bottom lip momentarily.

"What do you think?" he asked her.

She sighed at him after a silent moment. "I think you're a horrible storyteller and you should stick to bounty hunting. It's what you're good at. Now get out. You've ruined my mood and I don't want to deal with your shit anymore." And with that she stretched back down on the bed and faced away from him, curling her hands up against her chest.

There was a hesitation from Spike. "Right…I feel like a one-night stand that just went horribly wrong," he said blankly.

"You're a lunkhead!" she shouted at him and she sat up a bit to stare at him as he blinked at her once more. "You're stupid, you don't know how to fix your hair and you have no idea what the hell a woman thinks! How the hell did you ever manage to make Julia happy?" And she plopped herself back down in irritation, grumbling to herself.

He merely sat in silence in the wake of her outburst. And the resulting quiet in the room made her skin prick with electricity, the awkwardness palpable. So she decided to have another outburst.

"I mean, really! You have no idea, Spike! I've told you before and yet you still throw it in my face. Yes, I would let you into my bed if you came in at 3am one night. But not if you came to me going on and on about Julia!" She sat up once more, feeling jumpy and wanting to grab something and shake it to its foundation. "If you run off always in search of something you can't have anymore, you're going to miss everything that comes after, everything that gets in the way. You're running blind right now, Spike, and I don't want to lead you anymore-"

"Then don't lead. Follow behind. What do I care what-"

"Spike!" she screeched at him. And she literally made a grab to choke him. But at his smile she understood that he had been teasing her, albeit maliciously. She sighed and dragged her hands back, shaking her head. "Spike."

He was staring at her. "Faye. I only said what I did because you asked me. You wanted to know what Jack and I talked about and I told you. His connection to the Syndicate. To Julia. And to that…day." He paused, looking away. "I lost a hell of a lot that day, Faye. I left because I was sure whatever was out there would be the answer to everything I had to have answered. But…it's not like that."

Faye nodded to him. "I know."

He looked at her again wordlessly.

She nodded once more, green eyes lifting from her lap to meet his. "I know, Spike. Why do you think I stayed here? Why do you think I'm scared to death of him? Jack? Because he's the past that I don't want to face. I'm safe here, away from him. Away from whatever it is that he is." And even as she said the words she had to convince herself of their meaning, of their implication. "I'm safe here," she echoed dully.

Spike nodded as well. "We're all safe here," he murmured but his tone stated that he didn't actually believe it too much either.

"Yeah."

Spike shifted his face away from her for a moment, drifting into silence. And Faye turned her head to look out her window, to stare at his back reflected in the pane. Tense shoulders and a head of wild dark hair. There had been a time when she had known, deep, deep down, that she was never going to see him and his crazy hair again. His blue leisure suit and skinny chicken legs. And now here he was, sitting on the edge of her bed as if he had nothing better to do. Which he didn't. But he was still a sight for sore eyes no matter how big a pain in the ass he was. And his very presence made her feel secure.

I'm safe here.

"It's not always going to be safe here, Faye," he murmured then, his shoulders stiff, his face lifted to look at the far wall and the music player. She wondered momentarily what he thought when he looked at her music player. But a moment later he was turning his attention away, looking toward her dresser and then her closet blankly.

"I know," she whispered, bowing her head.

"Which means…" he uttered, breaking off, leg bouncing a bit. As if he had too much energy then.

"Yeah."

"We need to do something about it."

"Yeah."

"So, what are we going to do about it then?" he asked then.

Faye looked at him as he straightened and turned his head to stare at her, his jaw clenched. "I don't know," she murmured, shaking her head slightly. "But whatever it is, I'm with you on it," she whispered in defeat. And she bowed her head at her own words, feeling the coldness in her stomach spread out and wrap around her like an icy embrace. "I'm with you."


That night, with Ed at her Tomato and Jet finally having repaid all the debts they had accumulated over the last few months, they sat down at last to plot. Doohan was now at work repairing the Redtail and the Swordfish II. They would be picking up the ships within the next few hours. The Bebop's bill was wiped clean, VT having vanished after receiving her reimbursement. Spike stared at the recording over Ed's shoulder, the one depicting the death of the snitch.

One showdown. Just one. One to figure out where they belonged in the mess, where they would be once the mess had been cleaned up. Just one.

"We need you here, Jet." Spike's voice was quiet, his face dark. He turned away from the screen of Tomato and glanced at the older bounty hunter where he leaned against the back staircase. "As much as I want you along, only you can pilot this baby the way she was meant to be piloted. You got the Bebop."

Jet's arms were crossed over his chest, his jaw clenched. "I don't like this, Spike. Don't like it at all."

Faye looked at him wordlessly, hands on hips, her foot tapping the metal floor anxiously. She hated planning. She always had. She used to be able to go in, guns blasting, worrying about everything later or even leaving it to the end. Now, all this planning on how to go in, where to go, what would happen? It was all too much to worry about.

"Me, neither," Spike murmured. He glanced at Faye. "You and Ed will be with me. You gonna be ready for this?"

Faye glared at him, her eyes trailing back to him. "Let that be the last time you ask me that question, Spike," she growled at him. And she settled into silence, wishing that feeling in her stomach would subside. Something was going to go wrong, she felt. Terribly wrong. She crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes taking in the goose bumps that had broken out across her skin. She was cold suddenly.

"I need to know, Faye. Don't avoid the question. This is a shoot-'em-up take-'em-down approach. You need to be ready or we don't go." His face was firm, the corner of his mouth turning down slightly.

Faye didn't lift her eyes from her arms. "I'm ready."

He hesitated, his tone coming with a warning. "Faye-"

"I said I'm ready," she snapped angrily. And she lifted her eyes to him finally, meeting his gaze head on. "I'm ready. So let's do this so I can come back here and gamble away his money for the rest of my life."

Spike straightened, his expression indecipherable. And finally, with a nod, he glanced at the red-haired hacker. "Ed?"

"Ed is good to go!" she chirped, replacing her goggles over her head of thick orange hair and sending him a thumbs-up.

Spike smiled. "Ok then, ladies and gent. We're going to hit this place in two days, middle of the night. We're going to walk in, take as many of them down as we can and make our way to the top. Straight to Black Jack, to handle this once and for all. Ok?"

Jet grumbled a bit, Ed's thumbs-up sign still hanging in the air above her head. And when Spike looked at Faye she nodded silently.

"Swell." Spike stretched a bit as if the whole talk had drained him. "In the meantime, what are we doing tomorrow?" When they all glanced at him in question he stared right back in disbelief. "C'mon, guys, this could be our last few days on this…ship. Planet. Solar system. Whatever. We gotta do something."

Jet looked at him and then at Ed for a long moment, quizzically. "I say we hit a bar."

With wide eyes in the middle of the ensuing silence, Ed slowly raised her hand as if to ask a question in class. Even Spike and Faye managed to look confused, Ein rolling over in his sleep at Ed's side.

"Do we really care at this point?" Jet asked gruffly, an eyebrow twitching as he lifted his hands to his hips. "It's a bar. We ain't getting the kid nothing to drink so they can't say anything. We're hitting a bar tomorrow and that's it." And without a word he spun and stormed off, his footsteps hard on the cold floor of the Bebop.

The hacker hesitated. "But won't Ed be bored in a bar?" she asked Spike and Faye quizzically.

Spike smiled at her mischievously. "We'll try to keep it interesting for you."