Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any of its characters. Lyrics ( in bold ) are by Amanda Marshall.
Matters of Emotion
Spike was like a cheesecake. A cheesecake that suddenly turned up while you're diligently following a strict diet.
You tell yourself that you're going to be strong, that you won't give in to your evil sweet tooth. You give yourself a pep talk each morning, congratulate your will power on its resistance. Everytime you order the salad you win a battle, every bottle of mineral water is a sign of victory.
And then one day you walk into the kitchen to find a cheesecake on the table with a fork and plate, just waiting for you.
And you have to have it. Not just have a little piece or nibble, but eat the entire cake in just one sitting. You want to because you've held out for so damn long and you deserve it. Besides, one cheesecake out of 50 salads isn't going to make you fat.
But then you know how it'll turn out. You know that after you finish off the last little crumb, you'll feel disgusted and guilty. You'll want to stick your finger down your throat and rid yourself of the evidence. You'll hate yourself for being so weak. That one cheesecake could be the end of your diet.
And so, Spike was just that cheesecake.
When the temptation wasn't in front of you, it was so easy to ignore it. You could pretend that it wasn't there, it didn't exist. And then you convince yourself that you don't even need that cheesecake, you don't even want it. You'll take the garden salad with low-fat dressing on the side, thank you very much.
But then you see it.
You can taste the rich and tender cake in your mouth, feel its creamy consistency on your tongue. You know the way it'll melt and contort into a smooth, velvety sliver of heaven in your mouth.
All you had to do was walk out of the kitchen and ignore it.
But Faye was already sitting at the table.
_________________________________
So they sat next to each other, letting their hearts be quiet, their minds be still. He smoked his cigarettes, she breathed it in secondhand. The idea that he was slowly poisoning her seemed oddly fitting.
The bottle of whiskey still stayed unopened, and neither could really find the heart to open it. The sky was melting from a brilliant orange into a fateful blue. The sea gulls were no longer polluting the quietness. Faye ran her hands down the front of her skirt, wondering what he was thinking. His eyes told her that he was somewhere else.
Why am I lonely
You're sitting right here
Her legs dangled off the edge of the deck, her hair danced whenever the breeze flew across her face. She wanted to remember this moment, everything about it. Concentrating, she slowly stored it all into her memory.
She would remember the way the sky looked as though it were on fire, the way the wind blew the scent of smoke and saltwater to her nose. She would never forget how her heart begged her to stand up and leave.
He flicked the butt of his finished cigarette into the water. Ever so slightly, he let his dusky eyes meet hers. And that famous grin, that cocky, slow smirk, widened as she smiled softly at him.
"Not going to drink that?" she asked, nodding her head towards the bottle neside him.
"Not now," he drawled out, turning away from her.
Why am I talking
It's like I'm talking to the air
He always did that. Then and now. So cool, so unaffected. She'd never been one to swoon at the sight of a smile, but it made her pulse quicken, it made her heart sadden.
What am I looking for
That just isn't there
Breathe, Faye.
Slowly, In.
Out.
Don't forget to breathe.
It was hard, because a moment like this could cause her will to just crumble. All the resistance she had built up last night could vanish. Just like that. All because of a smile. A smile that made her feel like she was a little child. Part of her hated him for that.
Why am I angry
How'd it get so bad
Faye just wanted to breathe. To let it all in, and then let it all out. She'd been holding it in for as long as she could remember.
And why am I missing
What we never really had
She opened her mouth, afraid, but ready, to speak. To tell him what was happening with her. To tell him that she scared herself because she didn't know who she was. To spill out all her fears for the future, the trepidation of the unknown. She wanted to know if he felt it, too. She needed to know that he did.
Spike. Listen. Just listen.
Why don't you feel things
As deep as I do
Their gazes did not waver, but held each others', not boldly, but questioningly. She tried to see the eye that he'd told her about, the one that wasn't real. She wanted to know which one it was, because she only wanted to see through the real one.
We've got a fundamental difference
In matters of emotion
"Are you scared?" she whispered, as if no one was supposed to hear.
"Of what?" he asked. She looked down at his jaw, marveling at the hard lines that made up his face.
"Me."
But I need to feel you need me
Like a river needs an ocean
His left eyebrow was raised, but she only waited for his response.
"Faye..." he started, "I'm scared for you."
"Me, too," she said, laughing softly, "I'm scared for me, too."
Who am I kidding
It wasn't meant to be
Even though she knew she would regret it, Faye leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder. It was innocent enough, even when he put his arm around her shoulders.
In. Out.
She couldn't even remember the last time she was able to do this, just let someone hold her weight for her. It was nice. Temporary, but nice.
"I'm so tired, Spike. I'm just tired."
It was surprising. He was laying his hand over hers. The gesture was enough to make her cry.
But you wanted a believer
And I needed to believe
"I don't want to take care of you, Faye. I'm not responsible for you."
But his hand didn't leave hers, his arms stayed on her shoulders.
For every wall you built around you
I learned a brand new way to climb
"I don't want to... but I think I need to."
"I don't know who I am, Spike. I can't think without having to fight with myself."
Her voice was trembling, but strong. He held her a little tighter when he felt her body tense.
"I have nothing..."
He understood that feeling.
"You have your life," he said.
"Sometimes it's not enough."
"It's all that you really need. Everything else is out of your control. Your life is the only thing that you can call your own."
I don't understand you
What's it take to make you cry
"I need more... more than this, Spike."
He hesitated, wanting to stop, but needing to keep going.
"I don't know if I can give you what you need, Faye. I don't know if I can give you anything... or if I even want to."
And if leaving you don't break you
Then baby what's it matter why
"Just... just hold onto me. Hold me like I'm yours."
When he brought her closer to him, her face tilted up. It was painful. He was tired of this look, the look women always seemed to give him when they were in his arms. It was a sad look, a doomed one.
"Faye-"
"Closer."
We've got a fundamental difference
In matters of emotion
He stopped, knowing he needed to be held just as much as she did.
"Be mine, just for now. Please."
When their lips touched, their hearts cried. They stayed that way for a moment, their lips touching and not moving.
She shifted her body so that he could put both his arms around her. She gently kissed the corner of his mouth. And then the other.
When his head lowered, their foreheads touched. They could hear each other breathe. Spike brushed his mouth across hers, reveling in the softness of her lips.
They kissed like it was their first tme. Shyly, hesitantly.
Just be mine. Let me be yours.
She held onto the lapels of his jacket, bringing him in closer.
But I need to feel you need me
Like a river needs an ocean
It was dark now, only the lights from the city allowed them vision. They should have stopped, for anyone could see them, but they didn't.
First was his tie, she slowly untied and slid it off his neck, all while staring into his eyes. Then his jacket was off.
"Are you sure about this?" his voice was husky, slightly strained. But he held her face in his hands as he asked it.
"Yes."
So he lifted her onto his lap, so that they were facing each other, her legs around his waist. Her hands wandered over his back, underneath his shirt and over his chest, his face. She loved the way he was kissing her. He'd start softly, then deepen it, then kiss her neck, or her ear. All before returning to her lips.
His hands brushed back her hair, and she lifted herself up slowly, using his shoulders to support her. She felt his hands run up underneath her skirt and down the back of her thighs, the rustle of fabric being removed, the sharp intake of breath as he let her push the waist of his pants away.
It was good this way, so intimate. The front of their bodies pressed up against each other. They made love with their clothes on, trying to stay quiet for fear of being discovered. He felt her hot breath as she slowly moved up and down, their faces touching.
But I need to feel you need me
Like a river needs an ocean
They were panting when they finished, still holding onto each other. He kissed her fully on the mouth. A sheen of perspiration covering both their faces, they laughed.
"Spike."
"What is it?"
She reached for his tie, and then slowly began to tie it around his neck.
"I understand."
He didn't ask what, or how.. because as he searched her face, he knew she really did.
"Good."
"Make me feel good. That's all I want."
She played with the collar of his shirt, then removed an imaginary piece of lint off his chest.
"I thought you didn't want to hear any pretty words."
"I don't."
He nodded, kissing her cheek.
"Don't ask too much of me, Faye."
"I won't."
And if I could've been your angel
I would've found a way to fly
Matters of Emotion
Spike was like a cheesecake. A cheesecake that suddenly turned up while you're diligently following a strict diet.
You tell yourself that you're going to be strong, that you won't give in to your evil sweet tooth. You give yourself a pep talk each morning, congratulate your will power on its resistance. Everytime you order the salad you win a battle, every bottle of mineral water is a sign of victory.
And then one day you walk into the kitchen to find a cheesecake on the table with a fork and plate, just waiting for you.
And you have to have it. Not just have a little piece or nibble, but eat the entire cake in just one sitting. You want to because you've held out for so damn long and you deserve it. Besides, one cheesecake out of 50 salads isn't going to make you fat.
But then you know how it'll turn out. You know that after you finish off the last little crumb, you'll feel disgusted and guilty. You'll want to stick your finger down your throat and rid yourself of the evidence. You'll hate yourself for being so weak. That one cheesecake could be the end of your diet.
And so, Spike was just that cheesecake.
When the temptation wasn't in front of you, it was so easy to ignore it. You could pretend that it wasn't there, it didn't exist. And then you convince yourself that you don't even need that cheesecake, you don't even want it. You'll take the garden salad with low-fat dressing on the side, thank you very much.
But then you see it.
You can taste the rich and tender cake in your mouth, feel its creamy consistency on your tongue. You know the way it'll melt and contort into a smooth, velvety sliver of heaven in your mouth.
All you had to do was walk out of the kitchen and ignore it.
But Faye was already sitting at the table.
_________________________________
So they sat next to each other, letting their hearts be quiet, their minds be still. He smoked his cigarettes, she breathed it in secondhand. The idea that he was slowly poisoning her seemed oddly fitting.
The bottle of whiskey still stayed unopened, and neither could really find the heart to open it. The sky was melting from a brilliant orange into a fateful blue. The sea gulls were no longer polluting the quietness. Faye ran her hands down the front of her skirt, wondering what he was thinking. His eyes told her that he was somewhere else.
Why am I lonely
You're sitting right here
Her legs dangled off the edge of the deck, her hair danced whenever the breeze flew across her face. She wanted to remember this moment, everything about it. Concentrating, she slowly stored it all into her memory.
She would remember the way the sky looked as though it were on fire, the way the wind blew the scent of smoke and saltwater to her nose. She would never forget how her heart begged her to stand up and leave.
He flicked the butt of his finished cigarette into the water. Ever so slightly, he let his dusky eyes meet hers. And that famous grin, that cocky, slow smirk, widened as she smiled softly at him.
"Not going to drink that?" she asked, nodding her head towards the bottle neside him.
"Not now," he drawled out, turning away from her.
Why am I talking
It's like I'm talking to the air
He always did that. Then and now. So cool, so unaffected. She'd never been one to swoon at the sight of a smile, but it made her pulse quicken, it made her heart sadden.
What am I looking for
That just isn't there
Breathe, Faye.
Slowly, In.
Out.
Don't forget to breathe.
It was hard, because a moment like this could cause her will to just crumble. All the resistance she had built up last night could vanish. Just like that. All because of a smile. A smile that made her feel like she was a little child. Part of her hated him for that.
Why am I angry
How'd it get so bad
Faye just wanted to breathe. To let it all in, and then let it all out. She'd been holding it in for as long as she could remember.
And why am I missing
What we never really had
She opened her mouth, afraid, but ready, to speak. To tell him what was happening with her. To tell him that she scared herself because she didn't know who she was. To spill out all her fears for the future, the trepidation of the unknown. She wanted to know if he felt it, too. She needed to know that he did.
Spike. Listen. Just listen.
Why don't you feel things
As deep as I do
Their gazes did not waver, but held each others', not boldly, but questioningly. She tried to see the eye that he'd told her about, the one that wasn't real. She wanted to know which one it was, because she only wanted to see through the real one.
We've got a fundamental difference
In matters of emotion
"Are you scared?" she whispered, as if no one was supposed to hear.
"Of what?" he asked. She looked down at his jaw, marveling at the hard lines that made up his face.
"Me."
But I need to feel you need me
Like a river needs an ocean
His left eyebrow was raised, but she only waited for his response.
"Faye..." he started, "I'm scared for you."
"Me, too," she said, laughing softly, "I'm scared for me, too."
Who am I kidding
It wasn't meant to be
Even though she knew she would regret it, Faye leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder. It was innocent enough, even when he put his arm around her shoulders.
In. Out.
She couldn't even remember the last time she was able to do this, just let someone hold her weight for her. It was nice. Temporary, but nice.
"I'm so tired, Spike. I'm just tired."
It was surprising. He was laying his hand over hers. The gesture was enough to make her cry.
But you wanted a believer
And I needed to believe
"I don't want to take care of you, Faye. I'm not responsible for you."
But his hand didn't leave hers, his arms stayed on her shoulders.
For every wall you built around you
I learned a brand new way to climb
"I don't want to... but I think I need to."
"I don't know who I am, Spike. I can't think without having to fight with myself."
Her voice was trembling, but strong. He held her a little tighter when he felt her body tense.
"I have nothing..."
He understood that feeling.
"You have your life," he said.
"Sometimes it's not enough."
"It's all that you really need. Everything else is out of your control. Your life is the only thing that you can call your own."
I don't understand you
What's it take to make you cry
"I need more... more than this, Spike."
He hesitated, wanting to stop, but needing to keep going.
"I don't know if I can give you what you need, Faye. I don't know if I can give you anything... or if I even want to."
And if leaving you don't break you
Then baby what's it matter why
"Just... just hold onto me. Hold me like I'm yours."
When he brought her closer to him, her face tilted up. It was painful. He was tired of this look, the look women always seemed to give him when they were in his arms. It was a sad look, a doomed one.
"Faye-"
"Closer."
We've got a fundamental difference
In matters of emotion
He stopped, knowing he needed to be held just as much as she did.
"Be mine, just for now. Please."
When their lips touched, their hearts cried. They stayed that way for a moment, their lips touching and not moving.
She shifted her body so that he could put both his arms around her. She gently kissed the corner of his mouth. And then the other.
When his head lowered, their foreheads touched. They could hear each other breathe. Spike brushed his mouth across hers, reveling in the softness of her lips.
They kissed like it was their first tme. Shyly, hesitantly.
Just be mine. Let me be yours.
She held onto the lapels of his jacket, bringing him in closer.
But I need to feel you need me
Like a river needs an ocean
It was dark now, only the lights from the city allowed them vision. They should have stopped, for anyone could see them, but they didn't.
First was his tie, she slowly untied and slid it off his neck, all while staring into his eyes. Then his jacket was off.
"Are you sure about this?" his voice was husky, slightly strained. But he held her face in his hands as he asked it.
"Yes."
So he lifted her onto his lap, so that they were facing each other, her legs around his waist. Her hands wandered over his back, underneath his shirt and over his chest, his face. She loved the way he was kissing her. He'd start softly, then deepen it, then kiss her neck, or her ear. All before returning to her lips.
His hands brushed back her hair, and she lifted herself up slowly, using his shoulders to support her. She felt his hands run up underneath her skirt and down the back of her thighs, the rustle of fabric being removed, the sharp intake of breath as he let her push the waist of his pants away.
It was good this way, so intimate. The front of their bodies pressed up against each other. They made love with their clothes on, trying to stay quiet for fear of being discovered. He felt her hot breath as she slowly moved up and down, their faces touching.
But I need to feel you need me
Like a river needs an ocean
They were panting when they finished, still holding onto each other. He kissed her fully on the mouth. A sheen of perspiration covering both their faces, they laughed.
"Spike."
"What is it?"
She reached for his tie, and then slowly began to tie it around his neck.
"I understand."
He didn't ask what, or how.. because as he searched her face, he knew she really did.
"Good."
"Make me feel good. That's all I want."
She played with the collar of his shirt, then removed an imaginary piece of lint off his chest.
"I thought you didn't want to hear any pretty words."
"I don't."
He nodded, kissing her cheek.
"Don't ask too much of me, Faye."
"I won't."
And if I could've been your angel
I would've found a way to fly