Authors Note: Ack, Finally got this done! I've had the worse writers block, then all of a sudden it passed and I couldn't stop myself from writing. lol. I'm gonna stop making promises about my stories, cuz I just break them. lol. I'm gonna try to get the next chap out soon. I'm on summer vacation so if I don't, its laziness or writers block. Oh wait, I forgot to do this in earlier chaps sooo….I don't own CB, blah blah blah. Okies, my ass is covered now. Bye bye!
Jet entered the room, two steaming mugs in his hand, and a strange smile upon his face. He approached young Rose on the couch. She sat on the long yellow couch with her knees pressed to her chest, gazing into space with a troubled look on her face. Upon hearing Jet's footsteps she was torn from her daze. She looked at him and let a small grateful smile form on her lips. He handed the small mug to her and she took it gratefully, muttering a small thank you. Jet sat on the opposite chair. He took a sip of the hot liquid and winced.
"Whoa!" he said, his face twisted, "Either this has been in the cabinet a lot longer then I thought or it needs a lot more sugar."
Rose chuckled, sipping her mug.
"I think your just not used to coffee, its fine," she said, and Jet nodded.
"Yeah, that's probably true," he said and sat down the mug on the small table. He looked up and watched her take small sips.
"Quit looking at me like that." she said, the mug pressed to her lips.
"Like what?"
"Like I'm some lost treasure you've found," she said, looking into his eyes, "It makes me uncomfortable."
Jet said nothing, he just leaned back in his chair crossing his arms with that same smile plastered on his face.
"I guess you could think of yourself that way," he said simply, avoiding the strange look she was giving him. She didn't say anything, she took one last sip before setting her mug down on the table. She sectioned off a piece of her hair and began nervously raking her fingers through the tangles.
"So…" Jet began, his eyes fixed on her.
"So what?" she said, without looking up. Her fingers still moving continuously through the dark strands.
Jet's expression turned dark as he prepared himself to bring up the gloomy subject of her past.
"Where have you been ?" he asked quietly. He watched her face intently, looking for a reaction. There was none.
"Around," she said simply. Jet sighed, knowing this wasn't going to be easy.
"Does anyone know you're here?" he asked. She shook her head.
"Would you like me to call someone, tell them your okay?" Jet asked, hopefully. But Rose shook her head once more.
"I don't have anyone."
Jet sighed, giving up. He remained quiet, noticing her reluctance to speak.
"I have a debt to pay," Rose spoke suddenly, she looked up at Jet, "To the devil. He wants something from me."
Jet raised an eyebrow, thoroughly confused but he let it go. She looked back down to the floor, hand running through her hair. Footsteps approached from behind, Jet turned to see Spike entering the room from the kitchen.
"What are we watching?" Spike said, looking at the TV. He slumped onto the couch next to Rose, ignoring the dirty look he was receiving from both people. He turned the TV volume up full blast, just catching the end to the Kung Fu. He threw his hands up in the air.
"Why didn't you tell me this was on!" he said loudly. "This is my favorite movie!"
Spike settled himself into the couch, watching the screen intensely. Rose shifted her eyes from him to Jet, who got the messege.
"Um, Spike.." Jet began, "Me and Rose were talking, you think you could give us some space?"
Spike looked blankly from Jet to Rose.
"You can't do it with me in the room?" Spike said innocently. Rose glared at him darkly.
"It was a private conversation." she hissed meanly. Spike turned slowly laying his eyes on her.
"You don't have the luxury of privacy, princess." he replied, tightening his eyes.
"Who are you to tell me what I have and don't have," Rose said angrily, "You don't own this ship any more then I do."
Spike turned his body toward her. He stared at her with a mixture of shock and amusement on his face.
"Don't start, Spike." Jet said, a warning in his voice.
"No, wait a minute," Spike said, "I don't understand who told her she could walk around telling people what to do. The last I checked, she was the stow away, not me."
"I asked for your help," Rose hissed through clenched teeth. "and you said yes."
"Only cause I felt sorry for you." he said with a casual wave of the hand. "I tend to do that to the homeless."
Rose gritted her teeth together, listening to the blood pounding in her ears. She couldn't believe his audacity. She wanted to wring his neck then in there, but restrained herself. He went on as if they were just having a pleasant conversation.
"Where is you father, anyway?" he asked imploringly, "Did he abandon you? Wouldn't be to hard to see why."
"Spike!" Jet said loudly. His voice was angry and he looked at Spike with shocked and bulging eyes. Rose made no loud outburst, or threatening gestures. She sat, her eyes locked to Spike's. This was the first time she had gotten a clear look into his eyes. She didn't see what she had expected to see when they met in the bar. There was no trace of that confused, polite, funny man in those miss matched eyes. There was only coldness, and hate. They bared down on her with a weight she could feel mounting on her shoulders.
"You have no idea what you are talking about," she was only able to murmur.
"Is that so?" he said, faking a puzzled look. "I know more then you think I do, Princess."
Spike turned back to the TV screen, seemingly not noticing the hurt stare he was getting from Rose. She sputtered, confused, before she was able to form a sentence.
"Why are you being like this…" she said almost inaudible. Spike turned his shadowy eyes on her again. His expression was cold but for a split second, she thought she saw his expression soften and coldness falter. The second was over before she could even realize it had happened. And the harshness of his voice was more then frightening.
"Because I can."
Rose felt her cheeks tint but she couldn't care less that she was blushing. She was preoccupied with the growing heat behind her eyes as the tears formed. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it. She didn't trust herself to talk. She wasn't sure what type of sounds would fall out of her mouth. She broke the steely death stare with Spike, showing her weakness. Her eyes lingered on Jet, who had his narrowed at Spike. He continued to leer maliciously at her. Why did he seem to have this power over her? She didn't even cry that day, yet he had made her cry twice already.
Rose furiously wiped the tears out of her eyes. She tried to shoot Spike one of her best "Go to Hell" looks but it didn't work. She raised silently from the yellow couch, turned, and stumbled out of the room.
***
Spike watched Rose walk unsteadily out of the room, wiping hurt tears from her eyes. He felt a pang of guilt as he watched her sulk away. He was never one to make a girl for cry just to see the tears flowing down her cheeks. He closed his eyes, shaking the liable thoughts from his head.
"What the hell was that about a bout?" Jet yelled. Spike opened his eyes. Jet was looking at him with a mixture of anger and confusion. He stood, leaning over Spike. "I can't believe you!"
"Its all for the best," Spike muttered, taking out a cigarette and lighting it.
"And why do you say that?" Jet asked, crossing his arms. Spike raised his eyes at Jet. He looked as if he was debating with himself before he lowered his eyes again.
"I know who she is," Spike half whispered. Jet peered curiously at him for moment, but he didn't look to surprised.
"So you heard?" Jet half asked, half stated.
"So, I heard." Spike shrugged, puffing his cigarette. Jet ran a hand over his bald head.
"It has nothing to do with you, Spike," he stated, crossing his arms. Spike stopped in the middle of a long drawl, looking up. After a short stare between the two, Spike blew the smoke out in a long line.
"Maybe it does."
Jet threw his hand up in the air in a exasperation.
"Spike, cut the mysterious bullshit!" Jet yelled loudly, "If you have something to say spit it out! If not, just shut up." Jet turned his back, crossing his arms again. Spike's eyes lowered as he debated with himself.
"What I'm saying," Spike said after a lengthy pause, "Is maybe its not a good idea she hangs around."
Jet didn't turn.
"Because of what you used to be?" he said, more to the opposite wall then to Spike.
"Yeap," Spike murmured, placing the cigarette back between his lips.
"I can't turn her out." Jet said, lowering his head to the floor, "There is to much history. She has no where to go."
"She can't stay here," Spike said seriously, "And I'm not saying this just to be and asshole. it's a fact."
Et rounded around Spike. His face was red and vein throbbed in his neck.
"I dedicated years of my life trying to protect that family," he yelled loudly, pointing at Spike, "I'm not going to send her to her death, just because your scared she'll find out about your past. Hell, I don't even really know about your past."
Spike was silent. It was true, she had nowhere to go. He had made a deal with Rose. She got the fuel, she stayed as long as she needed. If they turned her out, she would die. But if she found out the truth...
"Do you want to know the truth, Jet?" Spike asked, his eyes staring straight ahead at the opposite wall.
"Not really," Jet said, closing his eyes, "But I guess I should."
Spike hesitated. He leaned forward, smothering the cigarette right on the table top. He felt Jet wince, but he didn't say anything. Spike leaned back, putting his feet up. He might as well make himself comfortable.
"I was there," Spike said softly, "3 years ago, almost to the day."
Spike looked up at Jet, who just stared back at him looking confused.
"What do you mean, you were there?"
"I was there," he said again, shrugging as if it were no big deal, "Or shall I say, I was pretty much put in charge of the whole operation."
Jet stared at him in disbelief.
"I can't believe this," he muttered breathlessly.
"Believe it if you want to, but its true," Spike spat. Jet sank into the seat next to him, rubbing his head.
"She doesn't know who you are," Jet mumbled. Spike looked at him, and eye brow raised.
"Should she? I didn't even remember who she was until today," Spike chuckled darkly, "Its funny how people I was sent to kill become just soulless, faceless blurs in time."
Jet sat in silence, placing his head in his hands.
"She'd kill you if she knew…" he mumbled again. Spike laughed morbidly.
"I'd kill me too," he said.
Spike stood from the couch, giving Jet one last look.
"Our secret, okay?" he said with a small smile. Jet didn't respond. Spike turned from him, heading towards the long hall. He entered the poorly light long hall, making his way towards his room. A familiar form was a short way in the distance. Rose was leaning against the wall, her head hanging. Spike again felt the pang of guilt. She was probably still crying, because of what he said. He walked up to her slowly, she didn't look up.
"Hey, Rose," he said softly, "About what I said-"
"You meant every word." she said abruptly. She kept her head hanging, but her arm had raised. The same shinny gun he saw her loading in the bar, was now pointed directly at him. She let out a loud sob.
"Dragon," she whispered. Spike's eyes widened momentarily.
"So I guess your good at eavesdropping too." he said simply. She raised her head, her eyes were red and tears trailed down her cheeks.
"You killed my father," said stated after another violent sob, "and my mother."
Spike shook his head slowly, not taking his eyes off her.
"I didn't kill them," he said softly.
"But you might as well have!" she yelled, "You sure didn't have any problems with killing me."
Rose inhaled deeply, squeezing her eyes shut and stood up straight. She wiped her cheeks dry with her free hands. She inched closer to him, holding the gun only an inch away from his forehead. Spike stared straight into her eyes.
"You're right," he said, "I didn't."
"For that alone, you deserve to die," she hissed, "All dragons deserve to die."
"I'm not a part of that anymore."
"Liar!" Rose yelled again. She closed her eyes, choking back another sob, "Don't lie to me."
"I'm not," Spike said, his eyes burning into hers, "I wouldn't."
Rose shook her head violently.
"I spent last ten years running for my life," she chocked out, "all because of people like you. Then when I finally think I'm safe, you yourself come a long."
She looked as if she was going to drop the gun. Spike made a slow movement to take it from her but she straightened up quickly. She pressed the tip right against his forehead.
"No," she said, "Don't you dare, you deserve this and you know it."
"You may be right," he said softly, "But if you really wanted to kill me, you would have pulled the trigger already."
"I'm not a murder like you," she spat, "I have trouble when it comes to ending lives."
"A weakness someone living for revenge shouldn't have."
"I feel that weakness slowly leaving me now," Rose said, as her hand tightened on the trigger.
Spike kept his eyes locked on Rose. He showed no signs of fear. He kept his face blank. He knew if he could take the gun from her if he really wanted. She looked weak, frightened. Her hand shook slightly and her face was still moist with tears. Another click, Spike closed his eyes. 'So this is it, huh?'
"Put it down Princess."
Spike's eyes flew open. Faye was standing behind Rose, her gun pointed to the back of her head. Rose's eye's were widened, she turned her head just slightly getting a glance of Faye who had a malevolent smile on her face.
"I knew you were just trouble," Faye sneered, "Biting the hand that feeds you, are we?"
"Faye," Spike said, seriousness coating his voice, "Put the gun down."
Faye raised her eyebrows at Spike.
"What the hell, I'm trying to help you here!" she yelled.
"Don't help," he snapped, "Just put it down."
Faye looked from Rose to Spike in total confusion. She made no move to lower her weapon and neither did Rose. Rose stared back into Spike eyes and he was almost shocked at what he saw. Fear, sadness, hatred. He felt a shiver run up his spine. He was a part of what made this girls life hell.
"The devil wants something from me," she said.
"I know how you feel," Spike said
Rose let out a high pitched, crazed laugh.
"No, I don't think you do," she shook her head. Her voice sounded muffled and strained, "You can't possibly know how I feel.
"Spike I'm gonna shoot her," Faye said, a sound of panic in her voice.
"Just shut up, Faye!" Spike yelled impatiently.
"I just can't live like this anymore," Rose went on as if no one had spoken. Her shoulders trembled as she was overcome with sobs.
"I know," Spike said. He rose his hand slowly towards the gun, "It will all be okay."
Spike was able to close his hand around the nozzle, but she wrenched it out of his grasp. He went rigid as she pointed it directly at his forehead again, a newfound strength on her face.
"Tell the devil he can have my soul, if he lets me live my life."
And then a loud bang ripped through the rusted air.
