The only dignified thing left to do at this point in time was to drink a helluva lot.



Faye raided every cupboard, drawer, corner, the inside of every book...anything that might hide some money. Finally she found some at the bottom of a jar of nuts and bolts in Jet's workshop. A good hiding place, she thought, smirking to herself while dumping the contents on the table before her. She bent low to put the money inside her boot. Not much, but enough to get her good and drunk. She didn't feel sorry for taking it.



She ended up in some dingy hole with a hot nuts machine and a sawdust-covered floor. She curled herself around a drink inside a booth and pulled her sweater up over her shoulders. Stretching her arms out before her she rested her head against the warm, sticky surface of the table. Sun and heat streamed outside and she was happy for the hiding place.



"There's something you need to pick up."



Faye looked up and a blonde, frizzy-haired waitress was standing over her. Faye squinted, struggling for recognition. Did she know this woman?



"What?" Faye asked. She took a long swig of her drink and sat back in the booth. The waitress held out a napkin with some scribbles on it.



"You're Faye, right? Faye Valentine?"



"Yeah?" Faye took the napkin from her when she pushed it out under her nose.



"A call came in. They said you needed to go pick something up. They have something for you."



"Who's 'they'? What sort of package?" Not another package. Not barely a trace of her past could be found when she was looking for it. Now that she had decided she was finished with it, all this junk kept popping up. She looked to the waitress as though she could answer all her questions. Any questions. But the woman shrugged her shoulders and asked her if she wanted anything to eat. Faye shook her head, took her glass in her hand and made music with the ice inside. The waitress smiled and made her way back behind the bar.



Another package.



Someone was fucking with her head.



She fucked with her own head quite enough, thank you. She didn't need the aid of outside parties. She poked her tongue out at the bottom of her glass to be sure she got every last drop just in time for the waitress to bring her another drink.



She glanced at the napkin the information was scribbled on. She felt something creepy run up her spine. She had thought she was being paranoid back when she received the videocassette. She had this feeling she was being tracked. When nothing happened for a while after that she figured whatever it was, it was all over. But someone knew she was in this bar right at this moment. Someone knew where she slept at night.



* * *



I could murder her.

Spike paced in his little room. Four walls and a yellowed Bruce Lee poster that had been torn almost in half and then taped back up again. A tiny bed he didn't like sleeping on. So he barely paced. There wasn't really enough room for pacing.

He can't believe he let a woman chase him out of a room.

"Bitch." He spat. He fell back onto the bed, realizing the futility of pacing. Wasting all that energy and not even covering any ground. He grabbed up some of his sheets in his hand and squeezed. Like he wanted to squeeze Faye's neck.

He thought about Julia and crushed his eyes shut. Why was all this crazy shit happening to him? He felt as though he and the bed were spinning. He mashed his hands against his eyelids and took a deep breath. He reached his hand out towards the stool by his head and felt it for cigarettes. When his hand lay flat on an empty surface his arm lashed out and knocked the stool across the

room.

Julia's hair shimmered when it was wet. Her black sweater was warm and moist with rain. These were the few things he could remember from his last meeting with her. Was the memory of her going to leave him completely? He couldn't let that happen. The only way she'd live on was through him. She hadn't any family or friends, really, that he had been aware of. He knew as much about her as he knew about the people around him now. Not very much, that. They hadn't really very much time to get to know each other. Everything between them had developed fierce and fast.

Like being hit by a car.

This thing he was feeling for Faye wasn't love. It was dirty. It was brutal. He wanted to rip into her and devour her. It was like he was being struck by some flesh-eating disease. And it was all wrong. The timing couldn't have possibly been worse. He was weak because he'd just lost the only thing that had meant anything to him. With Vicious and Julia gone, his life had lost all direction. He had nothing.

Fuck.

He hated to lose his cool. And that's what he just did right in front of the last person he ever wanted to lose it in front of.

He's such an idiot.

He sighed and felt himself begin to relax. He removed his hands from his face and let his arms rest at his sides.

"You're losing it." He whispered to himself. After all, none of this should bother him unless he felt the same way about Faye as Faye felt about him.

And there was no chance in hell that was ever going to happen.

So what was his problem?