Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop, that belongs to sunrise inc and other rich people, neither do I own Just Looking which is by the stereophonics. Please don't sue me… I don't even make enough money to buy anime, I have to steal it off my sister or sneak into her uni society.

A/N: Ohhh, and I thought it was a one-time deal (so did Spike!) but no, a plot has come and lodged itself in my brain. Less smut, more story, please read and review people, you've all been soooo nice!

There's things I want

There's things I think I want

There's things I've had

There's things I wanna have

                                                ~ Just Looking

There was a rhythmical whirring sound as the fan on the ceiling slowly rotated round and round. Spike stared at it, aware that his fixation came mainly from his desire not to think about things. Or people. Especially people.

Whirrr……Whirrr……Whirrr

Spike lit a cigarette then fell back onto his bed. He shifted slightly, resting one arm behind his head and propping his left leg up on his right knee, letting his foot bounce up and down idly. He was definitely not thinking about people. Or masseurs. Especially masseurs.

Whirrr……Whirrr……Whirrr

It was quite relaxing, lying on the bed, Spike mused as he took a deep drag of his cigarette. There was something almost hypnotic about the fan's rotations, something that let all the tensions flow out of his muscles. Spike felt as though he was slowly sinking into the bed. He took another slow breath in, hearing the slight hissing sound as the paper of the cigarette caught light and turned to ash. Spike closed his eyes and let the smoke drift out his mouth gently, savouring the warmth that was slowly seeping out from his lungs. It was a cosy feeling, like the feel of a lovers arms when slumber gradually became wakefulness.

Whirrr……Whirrr……Whirrr

A smile gently creased up Spike's face, as he remembered waking up to the sun on his face and the soft weight of a still sleeping Julia lying across his chest, her silky hair gently rippling as he breathed. Unbidden a different image suddenly appeared in Spike's mind, a memory of him sat by a different bed watching another woman sleep, her dark purple hair splayed out across a pillow, her face curiously soft and serene as her chest softly rose and fell.

Spike felt his eyes snap open as he stared at the fan again, his heart racing curiously fast. Faye? Why did he suddenly remember that? And her?

Whirrr……Whirrr……Whirrr

But now he had thought of her, he couldn't seem to get her image out of his mind. The time when Faye had first come on board the Bebop and had sneaked off to use the shower without permission… he'd followed her in and seen her, her outline blurred by a shower curtain and steam. He had stood there, mouth open and brain refusing to function until she'd noticed and abruptly sent him on his way. It was still so vivid, just like the memory of those hands massaging away his tensions. Those beautiful, glorious, delicate hands. Soft and porcelain white, and so gentle…

Spike shook his head with a growl and angrily stubbed out his cigarette. This was getting ridiculous! He wasn't some hormone driven teenager for chrissakes! Spike slung his feet off the bed and stood up. Jet would have cooked something by now. Maybe food would take his mind off Faye…THINGS!!! He meant things.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Spike lifted the chopsticks to his mouth and bit into another mouthful of bean sprouts. As he chewed mechanically and swallowed he reflected that the Bebop was much more peaceful without opinionated tomboys, much more tranquil and quiet. Quiet…

Spike paused and quickly glanced up at his fellow crew members, all of whom were staring at him speechless. In Ed's case the emotion seemed to be fear for she let out a wail and ran out of the room, followed by Ein who let out a whine of his own. Jet let out a sigh and sat down opposite Spike, arms folded.

"Okay Spike, you've even managed to freak out the freaky kid. What's up?"

Spike blinked and hastily swallowed, before shrugging. "Nothing. Just thinking."

Jet snorted and leaned back his arms resting on the back of the sofa. "Spike, you thinking is never a good thing. You tend to think yourself into trouble."

Spike frowned and carefully placed the now empty plate on the table in front of him. Jet seemed to sense his companion's reluctance to share as his tone softened. " Come on, what's brought on all this introspection? Were the masseurs teaching Buddhist meditation techniques? You said you wanted another hour, we let you have another hour. On three separate occasions!"

"No good," Spike mumbled as he rubbed tiredly at his eyes. "She'd left by then."

"She?" Jet, sensing the root of the problem was almost discovered, seized on the new information.

Spike sat back with a sigh. "Whatever happened to Faye?"

"huh?" Temporarily thrown by the sudden change of topic Jet leaned forward.

"Faye, you know, dressed like a cheap saloon singer, had a major attitude and a problem with money. Couldn't you find her?"

Jet looked away for a moment. "We found her. We decided to go our separate ways. End of story."

Spike frowned. "Oh."

Jet raised an eyebrow. "Does this newfound interest in life extend to helping get some money? Cos if you want to eat for the next few months, you'd better help with the new bounty Ed found."

Spike grinned. "As long as you're promising meat, I'm in."

Jet stood up and beckoned for Spike to follow him. "I'll fill you in on the way."

"Way? Way to where? Where we going?"

"A jazz club."

This could be just what I need Spike thought as he followed Jet to the hangar. Something to get my mind off things…and people…and definitely masseurs.

Ever heard of tempting fate?