Disclaimer: I know it and you know it, but just for the record, here it is again. I don't own Cowboy Bebop or anything pertaining to the series. Even as I'm writing this chapter, I'm still trying to decide which path to take. The gratifying path would be both enjoyable and betraying to the characters, because we all know "Happily Ever After" doesn't end with a "Bang". By the way, sorry for making everyone wait so long. I didn't mean it to be almost two weeks in between updates. Please review.

Chapter 4: Children's Rhyme

The hallway was dark as Faye stumbled back to her room. By the time she got to the room at the end of the hall, her eyes were watering so hard that she couldn't find the door.

Coherent thought had left her the second she had identified the emotions behind Spike's gaze at the table. There was pity…and hate. Hate she could deal with. Every bounty she took down had that same look in his or her eyes, usually coupled with desperation. But bounties couldn't see through you like mismatched red/brown eyes could. They couldn't make you want to crumble into a little heap of skin and bones, and bounty eyes never made your heart break into pieces.

It was the pity in his eyes that made her want to muffle her weeping now. Faye could vaguely feel the cold of the metal wall as she slumped against it, her head buried in her hands.

She stood outside her door like that for an eternity, buried in the cacophonic sound of her heart tearing, ripping inside of her chest. The faraway kitchen once again resumed a steady murmur of sound, and Faye felt the tears slowing. She turned her forehead to the coolness of the wall, and tried to imagine just how much of a fool she had looked to Jet and Ed.

Even the stupid dog probably knew what was going on. That pity in his eyes made her feel old. It was the way you looked at old people that couldn't help themselves anymore. Spike's pity for her, poor pathetic Faye Valentine, was more than she could bear, because it gave her hope. Hope that he might stop living in the past, and start living for the present. Yeah, right. Faye put her hands out to touch the smoothness of the wall to calm herself enough so she could make it to the privacy of her room.

Suddenly her arm was yanked behind her and she unwillingly followed it around. I almost would have expected he would wear those boxers with little smiley faces on them. She dazedly thought to herself, and then Spike roughly tilted her head up with a finger.

Red-rimmed emerald eyes threatening to fill with tears again reluctantly turned upwards to look at the tall man. Spike stared at her for a second, his odd eyes betraying nothing. The finger holding her chin up felt like it was the only thing supporting her.

Finally she found her voice. "I can hold my head up on my own, thank you." She whispered. Dammit, even my sarcasm sounds weak now. Spike dropped his hand to his side and stood there impassively before her.

Faye swallowed. What did he want her to say? I'm sorry I'm not Julia? I'm sorry that you can't love me because your heart is only big enough for a ghost? What if-

"Nothing happened." He rumbled. Faye blinked. Nothing happened? What did that mean? Of course nothing happened. That's just the way he wanted it. And then Spike was leaning over her, hands planted on both sides of the wall near her head.

Faye was trapped. She tried to squirm from his unwavering gaze, but his hands dropped to her shoulders, and she stopped. Spike was looking into her now. He was seeing directly into her head, into the very depths where she tried to hide.

Spike dropped his head to her ear. "There is nothing between us. There never was, and there never will be." His warm breath tickled her ear as new tears pricked at her eyes. "I don't love you, Faye. I advise you to get over me."

He drew back and noted the tears, which now trickled down her cheeks. Every word he had said was true, but they left a sour taste in his mouth. "In a few days or weeks I'll be dead." She tensed beneath him, as if to deny the fact.

"My past has come back to claim me. There's nothing you can do about it." She felt all the fiery resolve within her shrivel until it was nothing left but a husk. If Spike was so bound and determined to go off and be a hero, he would keep going until it killed him. And there would be nothing she could do about it. Nothing. The finality of that word hit her hard enough to stop the tears.

Faye raised a hand to his left cheek and stroked it lightly. The skin was lightly stubbled, and she forced a little smile onto her face. Surprisingly, Spike closed his eyes and leaned into her caress. He exhaled, and it sounded like a small sob.

His hands relaxed their hard grip on her shoulders. Faye dropped her hand, and Spike opened his eyes. They gleamed with tears like the ones she convinced herself had been part of a dream from the night before.

"I can't love you, Faye." He whispered harshly. She nodded, biting her lip. He had convinced himself that the other woman was his destiny. Who was she to stand in the way? The pale hand dropped from his cheek, and she looked at him, feeling so unprotected that she had to fight the urge to run.

And then came the moment that she held to herself weeks later as someone might curl up to a tattered blanket to keep away the cold. Spike's lips were on hers. He had pulled her to him so tightly that she could feel the rapid beat of his heart against her shoulder through the thin t-shirt he wore.

Overcome with surprise, it took Faye a minute to realize what was happening, and then she put her arms around his shoulders. He sobbed against her, a bitter echo of the heartache reflected in his posture the night before.

Spike tasted like stale cigarettes and spice against her mouth, and Faye wondered if there had ever been such a wonderful feeling in the world. They finally broke the kiss to come up for air. The tears on his face were still fresh, but the pity in his eyes had dulled.

Faye pulled back. What am I doing? She asked herself. Spike stood in front of her in the light t-shirt and boxers, and she wanted him more than anything. He would be her comfort; a shelter against anything bad. But she couldn't ask him for that. Her reflection in his eyes was a curse to the blonde angel in his heart, and Faye felt a lump develop in her throat.

She opened her mouth, hoping something good would come out, but nothing did. Spike only looked at her tiredly. "Don't love me, Faye. Soon I'll be gone, and you'll go on to live the rest of your life." The rumble of his voice jarred something in her, and suddenly a memory overwhelmed her.

…An elegant old house…figuring out the video camera with her friends. Oh, they had laughed so hard that day…the fresh smell in the morning air…pom poms that rustled as she filmed a memory for herself, ten years in the future. The rest of her life had been stolen from her in a space accident years before Spike had even been born. But she had adjusted, picked up a new life. Now her future was walking away.

Faye snapped back to reality; like fast forward on the ancient beta tape from her past, to Spike, but he was gone.

WAS IT ALL JUST A MEMORY?