Session 25

Author's Note: "Never Enough" is a gorgeous song from The Greatest Showman soundtrack. And considering that the seed of this particular fic was hearing "Rewrite the Stars" from the same soundtrack over a store speaker, it seemed destined to be the finale music. When I heard "Rewrite..." I pictured Faye changing Spike into her vision of what he should be, and the two cutting a rug on the dance floor, however Spike not being ultra thrilled with being a dandy—yes that's how it all began, the rest of the story built around that image. Unlike previous sections, I cannot claim the choreography for this round, as it is based on a routine I tripped across while researching cabaret competition level dances. This one was so perfect for the duo I had to use it. I jotted down the motion descriptions while looping the video. If you want to see the performance, look up Shane & Shannon Jensen Never Enough on Youtube, you won't be disappointed! As is always the case with sections involving lyrics this one has two versions: lyricless on Fanfiction, with lyrics on AO3. I recommend the lyric version because the song itself is so damn powerful. Though Spike and Faye are not an official couple in my works, they have found value in one another, and the depth of different bond as teammates. My username is the same between sites, FF has a space, AO3 doesn't, that's the only difference.

Jet clicked through the channels until he found the right one, kicking his feet back he rested them on the table edge. The click of Ein's claws beat a wild cadence against the plate decking the moment the contest intro music started.

In his wake Ed came swinging along the railing. "Eeeeeeyaaaaay! Final round! Final round! Finale rally, grand bean round!" Over the back of the couch, she vaulted and landed cross-legged next to Jet. Ein leapt into her lap, eyes focused on the screen.

Everything seemed perfect, until one by one the little robotic compys appeared. Somehow the damn things were silent when they wanted to be. Jet was about to curl his lip when he glanced to the couch arm to find Shuĭ with a beer can in his mouth. Sighing, Jet took the can and cracked the lid on the compy's teeth. "At least one of you is useful." He slipped a glare at Jīn. The thieving beast opened claws and jaws proving they were empty before sticking his tongue out. "You're lucky. One of these days I'm going to scrap you."

Ed tugged on Jet's shirt sleeve. "Shh, starting!"

The music dwindled, Derrick and Veronica appeared on their regular position in the balcony above the dance floor. The sparkle of a crystal chandelier behind them. The announcers were all grins as Derrick began. "Welcome to the exciting conclusion of the Ihy Intergalactic Dance Competition. We're aboard the decadent Golden Calf, moments away from the first couple taking the floor."

Veronica clutched a fist, trembling for effect. "That's right! And the excitement is in the air. Eight husband and wife teams have competed on a grueling schedule to qualify for the privilege of dancing in the final round. Always a guarantee to showcase the very best. This year has been no exception."

"In fact, we've had the greatest upset in the rankings since the Espositos first entered years ago. Everyone is wondering who will come out on top."

"At the moment the combined scores are pretty close. Only a few points separate the leaders, the Sterlings in first, and the Espositos nipping at their heels. The remaining six teams are all within a stone's throw of one another. It is possible, if something happens, for one of them to rise to first place. But odds are we're looking at a battle between last year's champions and this year's challenging couple."

"Tonight the dance is the most dangerous format. The cabaret. Known for demanding acrobatic feats and precision, these are routines where a mistake can lead to serious injury. It is not for the faint of heart."

"That's right. Concussions, broken bones including necks and ribs, lacerations from heeled shoe strikes, anything can happen when the balance is pushed this far."

Jet chuckled. "And they got Spike and Faye there. Heh. Sounds like a typical day on the job."

On the screen the camera panned around the floor. The bulk of the tables were pulled back, people attired in fine suits and dresses drank cocktails and picked at hors d'oeuvres. None of these were the current competitors. They mingled in the pre-round atmosphere without a care. Closer to the freshly polished floor perimeter eight small tables spread. Each with one couple perched on chairs. These were not in typical attire. The guys mostly in skin tight stretchy body suits, and the women in high legged sequin flashing attire that looked like swimsuits, some bedecked in plums of feathers or strings of shining gems. One thing for certain, there was a lot of skin showing.

Ed pointed to the corner of the screen. "Look! Ed sees them! Spike-person and Faye-Faye!"

Leaning forward Jet squinted. She was right. Spike's fluffy hair was hard to miss. At least he'd managed to stop flattening it down with the goop. Maybe he'd run out of the stuff. Spike leaned back in his chair, a martini in front of him. He had on a set of dark blue pants with a slightly lighter blue shirt, tiny sparkles like stars spattered it. Jet noted that his shirt cuffs had straps that slid over his middle fingers, holding the sleeve in place. That, and there were no cuffs to his pants, those vanished into the shoes. A belt sparkled with a few gemstones. From here it was impossible to tell if they were real or synthetic. On the other side of the table, Faye's sequined attire caught the lights in a dazzling display. Hers looked like the fabric had been tie-dyed into the semblance of a blue and purple nebula. Sleeveless, the garment was high cut at the hips with a dark blue gauzy skirt attached to it. Around her neck a sapphire studded choker. The lights shimmered on a gorgeous gem studded comb in her hair, it also looked like sapphires and diamonds.

As the camera panned over the rest of the couples, Jet couldn't help but note that the two fit right in with the remaining couples. It wasn't just the amount of skin showing, he noticed that the attire was, without exception, accentuating the muscular build of the dancers. While some of the couples in the background carried a bit of extra, none of those around the immediate dance floor did. Even if they had started with some, the rigorous schedule had burnt it off.

Of course Spike and Faye never had. Life on the Bebop generally didn't allow much for indulgences.

"Alright, looks like the first couple is ready. Here we have Phillip and Eliza Dunningham to open the cabaret..."

Spike gulped the last of his martini down as the couple before them finished. He reached up and rubbed his shoulder thankful it wasn't as sore as yesterday. Guiltily, he glanced at Faye's bare shoulder beneath the shimmering sequins. At least she hadn't bruised. Not everything had gone well the other day in rehearsal. By some fortune they hadn't been seriously injured. His shoes lacked traction, the idea was to allow sliding of the feet. In theory nice, but Faye had on heels this time, all while he'd be swinging her around. One momentum too far and things could get bloody.

The routine ran through his head, not the names of the moves, those Fernando had discarded when talking to Spike. Instead it was about feel and flow. And he had to hand to the man, this one flowed! Like working with his sensei, though Fernando had channeled water without even realizing it. Once they got this round out of the way, they'd have time on the trip back to Ganymede through regular space to find the bounty heads. No sweat.

All they had to do now was nail the balance through the sequence. The marginal lead wasn't much, and the Espositos had already brought it to the line. Their routine looked more like a gymnastics floor show. There was little doubt that would score high. The same with the Dunninghams. He glanced at their empty table. Shortly after their routine they had left. Neither one looked particularly well. The thought hadn't escaped him that their champagne glasses had been on the same tray. Had they narrowly avoided the Espositos attempting to poison them? Spike wouldn't put it beyond them.

Up on the orchestra stage a slight commotion disturbed the darkness. Spike grinned catching a glimpse of a microphone placed out front and center.

"Next up we have a slight change in program. Hah, I swear that the Sterlings do this just to keep the others guessing. Their music has changed. Looks like they will be performing to Never Enough."

"A song made popular by Morella."

There was a pause, something that sounded like a mic nearly being dropped by the announcers. "Uhh, Derrick, according to this it will be performed live by Morella."

"She's here? Where?"

"Uhhh, ladies and gentlemen. Spike and Faye Sterling dancing to Never Enough, performed by Morella and the Golden Calf orchestra."

By now Spike and Faye had made their way onto the floor, confident smiles on their faces. They had this. Spike took a deep breath, concentrating. This whole thing, far more than the other routines, relied on mutual center of balance. As much as he'd hated Fernando's persistence, he hadn't let them leave the room until they had it synced down to the minute fraction.

And so with the first piano chords, it began …

Facing away from one another, an arm length away, Spike reached back and Faye touched his hand for just a second before she spun away from him. Now most of the floor separated them, they stared out as if searching frantically for one another. At last, in a spiraling course they closed the distance.

A spotlight hit the orchestra, to several hushed cries, the first of which was definitely Jim, "Maria!" "Lansing is Morella?"

Spike had a moment to savor the commotion the reveal brought before her voice banished everything. She sung into a brief void, the orchestra pausing for effect. The whole thing bespelling.

Faye's back pressed against Spike's chest. His hands tucked under her arms, he lifted and spun her gently before releasing into a spiral out. They faced one another. Hands reaching to caress eachother's faces. Hunger in that gesture, Fernando's prompt sprung in his mind. Sinking down onto their knees before one another, hands on eachother's shoulder, they each slid their head beneath other's arm—keep it desperate, that thought ran through Spike's mind. That's what this whole narrative was about, desire. An embodiment of desire for something out of reach.

Spike rose to his feet and pulled Faye into a slide on the floor between his legs. Spiraling around with a high swing kick over her head, he faced away from her. With a reach backward between his legs, he grabbed her waiting wrists. Angle was everything. Bracing his core, he popped her through and up. For her part, Faye swung into it, her weight shifting and settling into the overhead lift. Spike's right hand braced the small of her back, his left hand gripped her left ankle to balance her. She laid back and spread her arms wide, as though she had fallen backward into a pool of water.

In a slow spin around the floor, he carried her, picking up the momentum until she spiraled down onto Spike's shoulder to the floor in a one foot touch then swoop. Graceful and elegant. An angel landing. She turned and they faced one another, arms crossed into a mutual wrist grab. Simultaneously they rolled out of the cross until Faye laid back into his arms and lifted her right leg in a flare. Separating, they twisted and turned, using a series of grasps to produce momentum across the floor. Her smile positively glowed, she was in the moment.

Pulling Faye in, Spike lifted her over his head in a horizontal plank onto her right side. He couldn't see it, but he felt the slight balance shift settle evenly as she tucked her right ankle behind and over the top left. Perfectly balanced she didn't so much as wobble.

Faye widened her arms into a vertical spread as Spike carried her around the floor like a soaring bird. She could have been one of those graceful swans from the ballet everyone always yapped about. But Spike snapped his mind from wandering. Lost focus in a hold could result in injury.

With her still over his head, Spike spun in a tighter circle, anticipating as Faye opened up and stretched the top leg forward until she laid into a flat spin. Once he compensated for the weight shift, he accelerated. If he wasn't fast enough there wouldn't be sufficient inertia. In the spin Faye folded and dropped down, cradled into Spikes arms. She gripped her arms around his neck, her head tucked beneath his chin. She was ready. Spike took a deep breath and hoped he was ready too, as the music surged.

In sync he released the arm beneath her shoulders as she let go. All that kept her from face planting was his grip in the crook of her knees. On that fulcrum she slung backward, her hair lashed the floor, frighteningly close to disaster. But they had it controlled. His arm at the perfect height, her weight shifted and tucked at the precise moments to avoid smashing into the polished floor. He held her through the apex and brought her back into a gentle slide away from him. Her feet toward him.

Reaching down he seized her left ankle and dragged her across the floor as she rolled with it. Her arms flailed against the floor in a pantomimed attempt to get away, but there was no escaping the lure. In the middle of the floor, Spike gripped her ankle firmly and spiraled. The momentum slowly rose Faye off the floor in a spin. She arched her back and stretched her right arm behind her head. She looked like a falling ballerina.

Spike slowed the spin, and released her. She slid out until friction stopped her. Around her fallen form, he twisted down letting his own momentum take him into a slide past her. His grip on her hand on the way by what ultimately stopped him. Like falling off a cliff, only minus the cliff. Laid out flat, facing one another they grinned. Damn this was working! But it wasn't over. They twisted their legs beneath them, foot against foot and took a deep breath. Spike could feel Faye prepping herself, steeling her limbs, for this required just as much work from her. If she didn't hold it, he couldn't get her where she needed to be.

Braced against her foot, Spike popped Faye up into a vertical layout over his head. His left arm a pillar on the floor, left knee bent, right leg back as balance, right arm straight, his hand a pedestal for her hip. Faye's left hand stabilized on his shoulder, left leg down, right limbs up in the air. They faced one another, exchanging winks. Maintaining this, Spike crawled in a slow circle on his knee. He twisted around at the end bracing Faye's leg as he climbed to his feet and walked with her still above his head.

As he spun in a tight circle, Faye dropped her other leg down into his waiting hand performing the full splits over his head, facing the floor. In his hands he felt her slight tremble, the full of her weight braced across her leg-span as she leaned forward. The core strength required was incredible. Here Spike had the easy part, just don't drop her.

She twisted into a sideways pike and grabbed her left ankle, which would have been the top leg. Spike let the weight settle for another turn.

Spike adjusted his grip into a one-hander on her left leg. Firm and rigid, Faye was perfectly level in the spin as he stretched his arm out. Ok, now that we are here, time to get out of it.

Bringing her down into a front hold, he flipped her around his torso in a swing dance move. At last her feet touched down in front of him. Breathless from the exertion, they took a planned moment to pause. Hands brushed cheeks again. Sweat glistened on her brow. But she was steady as her gaze. Thoroughly in the moment. As Spike found himself. He had never imagined feeling this in the groove with her. But there it was. They were killing it!

Side by side they strutted and turned in a series of slow spins, alternating one and two handed swings all fueled by the rising course of the music. Surging toward the next precision moment. Spike brought her to a sideways position and grabbed her thigh, flipping her like a propeller. Faye never even blinked, more than ready for it.

She came around from the flip and he laid her on the ground, once more grasping her ankle into a drag across the floor. This time he braced her foot against his and pulled her up into his arms. She faced outward as he flipped her around letting the inertia drag him.

In the release the control switched to Faye as she guided him to the floor. He rolled face down, arms in a push up position as Faye straddled his waist, standing with an arm up, gazing at the ceiling. Spike braced himself, this one wasn't a typical dance move. But Faye came up with it, and he hadn't argued with her. Well, he couldn't—it was bad ass.

Spike pushed up slowly, Faye placed her hands on his shoulders. As he came up, she wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles. Spike didn't keep his toes on the floor, tightening his core he started to pike his legs. In tandem, keeping it locked in a controlled balance, Faye's weight tipped forward until she was parallel with the floor, arms out at her sides as Spike committed to a full on handstand. The balance required was incredibly precise. Even over the music the gasps penetrated his concentration. One of those was Carlos. They held the position for a moment, Spike relished the surge of adrenaline permitting this inverted trick. At the beat Faye released into a somersault. Spike settled back, catching the balance shift.

Spike dropped back into a pike and rolled back to his feet into a mutual chase around the floor to catch up with Faye's wild throes. As well as this was going, Faye would get her dream, the shining tiara was within their grasp. Spike caught her and rolled her up into a partial split hold chest height, followed by a spring into a cartwheel hold. By now the adrenaline coursed through him, the lifts became easier in his second wind.

Not everything could be airborne. Fernando had assumed they'd be tired and planned floor work. Around the floor in a series of caresses they went until Spike flung Faye into a sweep spiral around the floor. She relaxed into a full layout rounding several times. It ended with Spike flinging her back up into a hold. But not just any hold. Spike held her upright, aloft with both hands gripping her left leg. One on her ankle, the other wrapped higher on her thigh. Her upper body straight she beamed out at the audience.

Faye held her arms out like a figurehead on a ship drifting around the dance floor. Still holding her in this posture, Spike paused and dropped down into a full frontal split, all the way to the floor. Faye stepped off of him in a gentle glide just as though she were stepping onto a platform without a care in the world. In a smooth motion, eyes locked on her as she gazed back at him, he slid upright without the aid of his arms. That was not something just anyone could do. Spike offered a triumphant smile.

Morella's voice trembled on the last chord.

Faye slid down on her knees on a collision course with Spike for the final embrace. The image of desire obtained …

In a blink, something else collided with Faye, pushing her across the floor with a startled shriek. Spike didn't have a moment to consider, as the next thing he felt was his own weight mercilessly driven across the dance floor, and his shoes had no traction.

See You Space Cowboy