Faye could probably sleep through an earthquake, if she wanted to. After Spike's little interruption last night, she'd dropped off again, and hadn't woken until the Bebop had docked firmly on the surface of the Earth.

In the shower, she pressed a hand to her mouth, smiling. She'd been a little disappointed last night, to find Spike already asleep, but waking up to his mortified face was completely worth it. She'd managed to stay calm, too, despite the rapid beating of her heart.

Faye toweled off and changed, taking her time. The Bebop certainly paled in comparison to her apartment, but it had a homey touch she was grateful for. It felt right, being back here, and she was immensely glad Shin had tipped her off in the first place. She really had to find the perfect wedding gift for him and Lola.

So, they were on Earth. Faye hadn't come back once in these last two years; it had never seemed like the right time. But now they were back, whether she liked it or not, and she had the feeling she needed to go see it again. Not just the dusty, scorched craters, but her Earth, the one with green grass and sparkling blue water.

She'd helped Jet with the takeoff last night, and she knew they were charted to land only a mile or so from her childhood home. She'd debated on saying something then, but decided against it. Whatever happens, happens, as Spike always says. Maybe she could learn a thing or two by thinking like him. Well, today was the day to try it out.

She trudged out into the open hold about an hour later, feeling refreshed and ready for the day. Spike was the only one there, lying on the couch and watching the ceiling fan. He sat up eagerly when he saw her. "Hey, Valentine."

"Hey. Where's everyone else?"

"Well, we landed mid-morning, and Jet went off to sleep. It's late afternoon, now."

She raised an eyebrow. "And the other one?"

Spike rolled his eyes, hard. "Vicious is still asleep, too."

"Isn't that bad? Sleeping for, like, a day?"

"Maybe?" He shrugged. "Honestly, I'm not sure. But he hasn't woken up yet, so."

Silence hung between them for a few awkward moments, and Faye hated it. Clearly, Spike was still feeling embarrassed about last night. Whether about the breakdown or the bedroom, she couldn't say. Maybe both. She opened her mouth.

"Hey, about last night…" He looked up at her, face neutral but panicky beneath the surface. That was unsettling; Spike never panicked. "It's okay. Everyone kinda freaks out sometimes. God knows I've done it more than once."

He sagged with relief; he must have been worried she'd tease him about it. She felt a little stab of hurt, that he would think that about her. Though, she figured that was kind of their thing. Insult, retort, rinse, repeat.

She didn't want that to be their thing anymore.

The stuff in her bedroom, the dance from the other night, that should be their thing.

"So," he said, changing the subject, "any good tourist attractions here on Earth? Only time I really spent here was crawling through an abandoned shopping mall. Well, that, and Ed's dad beating the shit out of me."

Several questions sprang to mind, but Faye forwent them all, instead offering up her original plan, and inviting him along. Whatever happens, happens.

Spike considered for a moment. "Yeah, that could be fun. I'm guessing Jet and Vicious won't be up for a while anyway."

Faye bit back a smile as they headed down the ramp of the Bebop. The ground was rocky and dry, but the weather was fair, so the walk was surprisingly pleasant. It got even better when Spike, in an attempt to keep her from falling over some loose rubble, grabbed her and pulled her upright. Even when Faye was back on her own two feet, he still held onto her hand, so she didn't let go either.

They walked in easy silence, fingers intertwined, and eventually came to the pavement and green grass she'd remembered. Before long, they reached the first lion fountain she'd seen here with Ed, the railing still overlooking the water below.

Faye came to a halt on the grass, taking it all in. It was strange to be back here, even more so with Spike. Her old house was only a half-mile up the road, but she wasn't sure she wanted to go there now.

Spike had stopped too. "It's beautiful," he said. He turned to look at her straight on. "I mean it Faye; I've never been anywhere like this."

"Well," she replied, sitting in the grass, "it was even better before." He flopped down next to her. "But it's never good to dwell on the past."

"No," he agreed. "It's not."

I wonder if he really means that.

I hope he does.

She took a deep breath, his hand still entwined with hers.

"My house, the one I grew up in, is right up the street. Well, it's not really there now, it's just ruins. But I found it last time I was here, when I got my memories back. My old room—you can still see where it was—I just laid there for hours, remembering. The toys, the clothes, the makeup. High socks and lip cream. I remember those two things the most, for some reason. My past, in two parts. Top to bottom, I guess, the things that made me, me.

"That tape, the one you and Jet found, helped more than you know. I never thanked you for that, did I? I guess I'm thanking you now. When I first saw it, well, when we all saw it, I couldn't remember a thing. It was just a little girl; someone I didn't know. But she loved me. And that made me want to remember, more than anything else had. Somewhere out there in the universe, and deep inside my head, there was a girl who loved me.

"And she was cheering for me. No one had ever done that before, believed in me like that. I saw that tape and, I just, I wanted to be better. If not for me, then for her. 'My only self.'"

She paused. The sun was shining in the sky, winking over the water. She whispered up to it.

"'Am I alone, or is there a wonderful person next to me?'"

She turned to find Spike sprawled next to her, fast asleep.

She wanted to be annoyed, but the dark circles under his eyes and the way he looked so relaxed kept her irritation at bay. Besides, everything she'd said had been for her own benefit anyway.

She studied him, taking in the way he slept. Not at all like most people, arms and legs contained within their normal orbit, but spread akimbo, almost like he'd fallen four stories and had splatted onto the ground. Faye shuddered to think of the time he actually had fallen four stories, wrapped head to toe in bandages for weeks. She'd been callous then, unable to sort out the feelings that were whirling around inside her.

Now, she thought, she'd be better, more sensitive, if he ever got hurt like that again. Sometimes, late at night, she wondered what he'd been through, after his last fight with Vicious. She'd seen the scar, and it didn't take much to imagine the pain that had come with it. It looks worse than it feels, he'd said, and that had made her saddest of all.

An old woman ambled nearby on the arm of a bored-looking boy, most likely her grandson. They glanced over at Faye, and she panicked for a moment, wondering if this old lady was some former classmate of hers. That had happened last time she was here, and it was…weird.

But the old woman just smiled and waved as they passed, stopping for a moment to point at Spike. "You have a lovely boyfriend. Reminds me of my Charlie, when we were young." The boy mumbled something, visibly embarrassed, and tugged at his grandmother to keep moving. Faye just waved back, too stunned to reply.

The pair continued on, leaving Faye to stare out at the setting sun and Spike to go on sleeping beside her. He looked peaceful, she decided. When he was awake, he almost always looked calm, but this was different. Peaceful, now, like the weight of the world was finally off his shoulders. Like the past, such a great piece of that weight, had been forgotten. And Faye took refuge in that; there was a specific part of the past she would gladly have Spike forget. One she felt stood like a wall between her and him, and what they could be. To what may be.

So no, she couldn't be mad at him for falling asleep, and she was inclined to let him stay that way. And she did, until the sun had sunk nearly below the water, and the sky was painted beautiful pinks, purples, and golds. Faye's breath caught in her throat. Say what you will about Earth, but its sunsets were still glorious. She turned to wake Spike, finally, not wanting him to miss the magic. She doubted he'd ever seen anything like this. She reached out a hand, but hesitated.

Faye felt the hint of a smirk on her lips. He'd woken her suddenly last night, and she was more than happy to return the favor, in identical fashion. Quietly, she planted her hands on either side of his head and swung one of her legs over to the other side. Her hips hovered squarely above his, a perfectly inverted replica of last night's debacle. Which, personally, she thought she'd handled rather well. Her reaction had certainly shocked him, that's for sure. She was hoping to do it again now.

Leaning down, she let the tips of her hair tickle his nose. He twitched in his sleep, face scrunching, and her heart squeezed at how adorable it was. So adorable, in fact, that she wanted to see it again. She repeated the motion, and he responded in kind. It was just as cute the second time. She went in for a third, but had clearly misjudged Spike's ability to sleep through small annoyances. His eyes snapped open and he sat up, knocking her hands from their position in the grass and slamming his torso into hers.

Last night's position had now evolved into something else entirely. Faye straddled Spike's lap, chest flush against his, her arms wrapped around his back in an effort to stay upright. He was, to put it lightly, confused. Spike's gaze bounced around for several moments as he tried to take stock of the situation, and how it'd come to pass. From the look on his face, he seemed to be drawing a blank.

Faye, taking pity on him, laughed and readjusted herself to settle more comfortably in his lap. "Payback for last night."

Spike understood immediately. Recognition, and a flicker of satisfaction, crossed his face. His hands came to rest on her hips, thumbs tracing smooth circles that left her skin tingling. "If this is payback," he said, "then I've got to start sleeping in your bed more often." His voice, low and gravelly with desire, made her stomach flip.

She waited for both of them to blush, or look away, but neither did. Her heart, already beating fast, sped up even more. Was this really happening? After all this time, could it really be as simple as this?

A careless insult; a playful retort. It was their thing, after all.

He leaned closer, waiting. She took a breath. "Consider this an invitation, then."

He nodded. "Might just have to take you up on that." They'd dropped to whispers, a conversation meant for them only. No one else. Just Spike and Faye. And goddamn, she'd been aching for something like this since maybe the day he'd gone off to die.

She felt the sudden urge to make this position, this place, this moment, irrevocably theirs. Hers and Spike's. And no one else's. There were already too many ghosts between them. But here, now, it was impossible to miss the way his eyes would dart away from her own to glance down at her lips. There was a hunger there, one that excited Faye.

What she said next would be crucial—something that was equal parts sexy, witty, and captured what she was feeling, that need for their own distinct intimacy. A tall order, but one that, with Spike so close and so warm beneath her, now seemed possible in a way it hadn't before. She leaned forward and murmured in his ear.

"Bet you never did this with Julia."

Her eyes widened, realizing what she'd said. Never in her life did she want to take something back so badly as she did in this moment.

Spike drew back, looking angry, embarrassed, and utterly hurt. "Why would you say that?" His voice sounded ragged, like he was struggling to get the words out. She'd shocked him, there was no doubt. But not the way she'd meant to. Faye wanted to slap herself. Yes, why the fuck would you say that? But she had no answer for herself, and none for Spike either; she just opened and closed her mouth like some idiotic fish.

His eyes, so open and inviting only a moment ago, shuttered closed. Mouth now set in a grim line, he gently, but firmly, shifted her off his lap onto the grass below. It scratched at the backs of her calves and she wanted to cry. So fucking close.

Spike stood abruptly and finally looked out at the sunset. If it had any effect on him, he didn't show it. "We should get back. Vicious is probably awake now."

Faye scrambled to her feet as well, any warmth between them clearly gone. She was angry now, partly at herself for saying what she did, and partly at Spike for taking it so personally. She couldn't help but feel that he was still in love with Julia; he had to be. What other explanation was there? And then, just now, mentioning Vicious. As if to drive home the fact that he was still living in the past. Welcoming the devil with one hand and worshipping a ghost with the other.

She'd had enough. It takes two to tango. And if he didn't want to dance, then, well, she wouldn't force him any longer.

The walk back to the Bebop was agonizingly long; the silence that was so comfortable before now fraught with tension. Faye stopped short, trying to catch her breath before climbing back up the ramp. Spike paused beside her, waiting. She was oddly touched by the gesture but couldn't bring herself to say anything about it. It was only a gesture, after all.

She chanced a glance at him. He looked as miserable as she felt.

They started to climb the ramp together, when a voice, lilting and familiar, rang out above their heads.

"FAYE-FAYE!"

Faye's head snapped up.

"Ed?"