I don't own Cowboy Bebop

I'm sorry it took me forever to update the last installment of EVERY NEW DAY, but summer freakin' school had me in it's death grip. Anyway, enjoy the happier ending of this tale.

=Every New Day Part IIB=

"Spike." She murmured in her sleep.

Jet stood outside the doorway to her room. Two long weeks of suffering! She spent most of her days in her room, in bed and staring at nothing. At night, he could hear her crying out his name, as if she relived the moment over and over.

When she did come out of her room, she looked like crap. Her hair, which hadn't seen the likes of a brush in weeks, was a tangled mass above her head. Her eyes, red and bloodshot, had bags under them that showed her lack of sleep. Her mouth, was always down turned…always unhappy. She would wander the Bebop in her robe and sometimes, when she thought he wasn't looking, slip into Spike's room, where she would fall asleep.

Her strength, he realized, had left her.

Reaching into the room, he switched off the light. "Night, Faye."

===

She walked down the aisle toward her room and saw that Spike's door was wide open. She poked her head inside and noticed the bed, still unmade, in the corner of the room.

She had tried so desperately to forget him but it was harder than she thought.

He had been her one true annoyance, her rival, her love.

He had…left her alone…alone in a corridor as tears burned down her face, alone as she sat on a tree stump and stared into rubble. Alone as the wind softly carried her tears away.

She walked into the room and passed her hand along the edges of the sheets. She had known him such a short time but he had managed to make her feel so much. He always seemed to spark the oddest feelings within her. Anger, hate, pain, worry, happiness…

Faye got into the bed. She tucked one arm underneath her head and stared at the ceiling.

She just couldn't stop remembering. It tore at her.

She shut her eyes and breathed in his essence. She felt like an idiot for doing this, but as long as no one noticed…

She felt a harsh breath at the back of her neck. It made her tingle and her eyes darted open. She tried not to blush as she whipped her head around and stared at…Spike? He grinned at her, his arms encircling her waist. He half grinned half frowned at her. "What are you doing in my bed?"

"What are you doing here?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. She could feel the slight movement against her back. It felt nice. He lay back into his bed, pulling Faye next to him. "The same reason you're here."

Faye bit her lip. She let her head fall against Spike's shoulder. She shut her eyes feeling the hot stinging wetness in her eyes.

"You want to escape reality," Spike murmured into Faye's ear.

===

She was breathing heavily and she couldn't stop shaking. Anger replaced her normal solemn attitude and she began throwing anything that she could touch. Clocks, shoes, clothes, pillows, they all flew about her room as she cursed and cried.

She was alive and Spike was dead. What was the point? She could still feel his hands shove her outside the door. His hands…they were so rough, so strong. "Damn it!"

Finally, she collapsed into a fit of sobs, hating herself for crying, and hating herself for not mourning even more.

Faye stood and got dressed. She then stumbled down the hallway to Jet's office. She saw him working intently on one of his beloved trees. She watched him for a moment, seeing the tired, warn out eyes. She bit her lip and said, "I'm sorry, Jet. I'm just going out for a walk."

Jet nodded, thinking why she didn't say her usual, "I'll be back," and knowing why she left it out.

She didn't wait for him to reply. She staggered down the remaining hallway and left the Bebop.

She glanced down several streets, picked one, and began to walk. She was oblivious to the soft splatter of water against her bare arms as she walked unseeingly down her path.

The past came back to haunt her. She didn't want to remember, but when she tried to suppress one memory, another would take it's place. By the time she broke out of her reverie, it was pouring outside. Just my luck, she thought sourly.

She searched for some sort of shelter and saw a neon sign flashing on a small building. Existence, said the sign. Faye glared around the whole street. Existence appeared to be the only thing open.

She entered, soaked, and looked around. It was a bar, that much she could tell. A few people were scattered about the room, chatting and arguing and a band was playing some twentieth century song that she had heard once or twice as a child.

She felt the alcohol call her name and was immediately picking a seat at the bar. She sat down and caught the bartender's attention.

"What's your poison?"


It took all of her will power not to roll her eyes at that cliché. "Something with high alcohol content," she murmured.

The bartender nodded and went in search of the perfect drink. She sat quietly for a moment and let the band's music fill her emptiness.

"When I was young

The smallest trick of light

Would catch my eye

And life was new

And Every New Day

I thought that I could fly…"

Faye frowned as the bartender tossed her a clear liquid. She picked up the glass and took a shot. It burned down her throat and made her splutter and cough. She held the empty glass to the bartender. "Another one."

"I believed in what I hoped for

And I hoped in things unseen.

I had dreams and wings could soar

I just don't feel like flying anymore…"

It wasn't long before she could feel the affects of alcohol perverting her system. She began to babble incoherent words to the stranger, who wore a trench coat and a ratty hat, she sat next to.

"It sucks," she began as the bartender poured her more of the clear liquid.

"What does," the stranger asked. He took a sip of his drink and stared at the woman. His nose twitched at the smell of liquor in her mouth.

"Life and everything in it. What's the point to living from day to day if we're all fated to die?" Faye shook her head and felt her eyes burn.

"There's more to life then death," the stranger replied as he watched to women.

"When the stars threw down their spears

Watered Heaven with their tears

Before words were spoken

Before eternity…"

"Not much more," Faye murmured as she placed the glass back down on the counter.

The stranger stared at her thoughtfully as she raised her hand to order more of the drinks. "You've had enough, kid. Maybe you should stop?"

Faye glanced at the stranger beneath her lashes. She felt tired, woozy almost as her vision began to get blurry. "Who are you? My keeper? Mind your own business," she said as her words began to slur.

She didn't feel like drinking anymore…a feet unto itself. She didn't feel like doing much of anything anymore. She just wanted to…She just wanted to…She just wanted to…

Die.

She collapsed into an unconscious heap before she knew it. Her head flew down, almost as slowly as that of a snowflake as it descends form the sky. Her mane of purple hair, flew about her, creating a sort of mask to cover the pain that flashed unto her face.

"Dear Father, I need you

Your strength my heart to mend,

I want to fly higher

Every New Day again…"

===

When she awoke, a red sheet was gripping her shoulders. She let her eyes flutter open, only to see that she was back in her dream world, in his bed, lying in the crumpled sheets. He sat at the edge of the mattress, his back to her. He pulled the cigarette from his lips and placed it over a nearby tray, slowly shaking out the ashes.

"You're awake?"

"Not really," Faye muttered.

She sat up, drawing the sheets around her body. She felt cold, suddenly, and briefly wondered why.

"Faye, what are you doing to yourself?"

He still hadn't turned around. She stared at his fuzzy green head, as it tilted slightly. He looked over his shoulder, his rusty brown eyes drawing her green ones to his face. Suddenly, he looked away.

"Why would you care? You're gone," Faye answered, scooting away from him. She felt like running, but couldn't do it. She was finally near him, and this is where she wanted to be, right?

"Not entirely, Faye." He had turned to look at her, crawling over the bed until he was right beside her.

His hand touched her face, sliding against her cold cheek and pulling her closer to his lips. His bottom lip brushed against her top one. Faye shut her eyes, feeling the warmth of his breathe on her skin. How she had waited for this moment…but…

"You're not real…." Faye murmured as she pulled away. "It's all a dream…."

===

"She's waking up"

The words startled her, and her eyes flew open. Green eyes stared wildly around the room, vaguely remembering where she had seen this place.

Two people…there were two other people in the room. She could only make out the shadow of one, and the other…

"You're home. Back on the Bebop," came a gruff voice.

"Jet?" Faye asked as she turned around. He sat on a chair next to her bed, his eyes looking as if he hadn't slept in ages.

"You know how to make a guy age 50 years," he said as he ran his hand over his shiny scalp. He stood up, moving the chair away from the bed. He straightened his clothes and crossed his arms.

"A specialty of mine, I assure you." Faye leaned back into her bed. The sun's rays were just peeking into her room. "What happened?" she asked as she stared out the window.

"You passed out."

"But why--"

Jet shook his head. "You're hungry," he stated as he turned to leave. "I'll make you something good."

The stranger stared at Jet and half grinned. "Is it some of that slop you fed me earlier?" He tilted his hat to the elder man as he huffed out of Faye's room.

The stranger turned his head slightly and stared at her for a second. He wondered what she was thinking. She looked almost angelic, with the light shining down on her pale, skin. Her eyes, which we're staring at nothing in particular, were glassy as if she were in deep thought. "You shouldn't drink so much," he said, breaking into her thoughts. He was almost sad that he had to destroy that image. Almost.

Faye's eyebrows turned down quickly as her head shifted to his direction. "What the hell are you doing here?"

The man in the hat shrugged and sat the edge of the bed. Faye didn't know what about him made her hate him, but she did…well not hate. Just despise immensely. She started to kick at his bottom with her foot. "Get off," she growled.

He stretched and looked as if he were about to go to sleep in it.

"What the hell are you doing!" She sprang from her mattress and shoved him off.

He smirked as he stood up, only to walk to the side of her bed. He liked annoying this woman. "You should be asleep, shouldn't you?"

Faye bit her lip. She had to admit this to herself. "I've been sleeping way too much," she whispered as she looked down. I've been trying to escape reality by falling into that dream world…by running…but today, it's a new day. I have to live because every day, is a new day…The sun's rays were now hitting the side of her bed, much to her annoyance.

Before she knew it, she felt the mattress depress. The man was behind her, laying beside her with his arms around her waist. His hat and trench coat had been dumped on the chair that Jet had pushed back not too long ago. He leaned his head against her back and whispered, "It's been a while, Faye Valentine."

Faye shivered, feeling his hair brush against the back of her neck. She shut her eyes for a second. He smelled like…

Her eyes flew open. She turned her head slightly, meeting his rusty brown eyes that were different in colors…

He looked like….

He grinned his lopsided grin at her.

He was…

=End=

Ahhh! It's over! OVER! No more! I had a hard time writing the ending for the happy one, because…I can't write romance no matter what! It all comes out like crap, which I'm pretty sure this one did as well. I kept re-writing this over and over, wondering how it should end…it still feels unfinished, but…whatever.

Anyway, I'd like to thank everyone who kept up with this story, who kept reading, reviewing, and cared about it as much as I did. You guys are the inspiration!

Well, nothing left to say except, See you Space Cowboy!