So according to one reviewer, Spike should be an emotionless badass because of the bad stuff that happened with Julia and Vicious. Now, as much as that might seem to make sense, the whole emotional blockage issue, I'd like to point out that he's already tried the infamous "I don't care about anyone" strategy as anyone who watched the show can vouch for. And what happened? Got his girlfriend and his former best friend killed. Yeah, that worked well. Let's continue with that strategy, as surely nothing but continued joy and miraculous amounts of good luck shall come from it. In addition, I think that while he could have become more of an emotionally constipated asshole due to the whole "death of two people that I really cared about," it also could have caused him to realize as he sat there with his dying girlfriend in his arms. "Man, life is short. Maybe I should stop wasting it on pretending I don't care." Because think about it, if he would have been true to his feelings before, he would have spent all his time and energy chasing after the love of his life, and maybe they could have had a bit more time together before her untimely demise. So I'm saying that while he could have shut off his emotions more, I think that his little outburst of emotion (weird Spike emotions) before he left for some Vicious killing shows that he did not decide to simply turn his emotions off. Otherwise, he probably wouldn't have gone after Vicious in the first place, because if he was not caring about anything, he wouldn't have put himself in mortal danger to avenge Julia's death. Faye said it herself in that episode "You told me the past doesn't matter!" Spike's made some emotional growth here if he's turning his back on his former carefree lifestyle and chasing after his past. So that's why I feel like I'm doing a good job of showing how Spike would have continued to act providing he had survived the whole final showdown. Also, Faye and Jet and Ed are like a little family to him, so while I'm sure he doesn't go telling his sob story to complete strangers, I think a little bit of honesty amongst companions like them is perfectly understandable. So there. I'm writing now.
*****
One More Try
Part 6
*****
Do you want to know what it was about that whole Millipede incident that made me feel like the most worthless bounty hunter ever? It would probably have to be the fact that other than the massive smack on the head that had caused me to be asleep for three days straight, I didn't really get a lot more than some minor burns and cuts as far as injuries go. I mean, the little explosive he tossed at me was probably only meant as a distraction so he could get away, but lucky me, I'd hit my head and ended up on the couch for three days. And the fact that such a little thing had totally knocked me on my ass made Spike decide that I was not fit for doing much of anything for the next few days. Not that I didn't manage to do my fair share toward further convincing him that I was a total weakling.
First of all, I don't think you realize that despite bandages cushioning you slightly, it's extremely uncomfortable to lay around on your burned body, so unless you manage to find the elusive perfect position, you can't get to sleep, no matter how many times your crew mate annoyingly tells you that you need your rest. I mean seriously, was he my mom?
And then I got restless after he'd left the room for quite some time, apparently satisfied that I was awake, so I was in no immediate danger. Convinced that he would be taking his own much needed rest and not wanting to bother anyone about it, I got up to get myself a glass of water, and while I feel I did an admirable job of regaining my ability to walk without tripping over myself after three days of not moving at all, I immediately cramped up and ended up sort of limping my way into the kitchen and back. Then, Spike came back and saw me sitting there, rubbing at my sore thighs, and he immediately got very angry that I had been walking around. I understand that he was concerned, but I don't ever recall banning him to his bed and not allowing him to get up at all. Stupid Spike. At least he didn't insist on rubbing my sore muscles for me. That would've been too much.
Then, I decided that it was high time I take a shower, since I figured that Spike hadn't been all that attentive to that aspect of my care while I was sleeping…well, I hoped that he hadn't, but I wasn't about to ask. So I got up and hobbled my way in there, feeling stiff from my muscles and the discomfort of my burned skin, but I didn't stop to think that it would really really hurt to have hot water pound down on your skin after it had just been covered in first and second degree burns. Of course, I'm sure from the occasional yelp and the loud slam when I nearly slipped and fell out of the shower, everyone else on the ship learned that I had just figured that out. After a few moments of pain so intense tears were starting to spill down my face, I turned the water to almost full-blast cold, and I had a much more enjoyable experience after that. That didn't stop Spike from giving me a grumpy, put-out look when I came back out of the shower and settled down in my bathrobe to put burn gel on some of the worst patches.
I honestly felt like I'd fallen asleep while sunbathing and was now paying the price. Sure, I had a few odd scratches that were pretty well on the road to recovery, but other than that, it was all burns, and they all hurt like hell. At the risk of sounding like a total weakling, I really don't end up getting injured that much on our missions, so the few times I have gotten really hurt, I'm pretty sure that I've felt it about ten times stronger than Spike would have if he had the same injuries. I mean, he gets pretty pissy when he gets shot but…I don't like to talk about it, but when I get shot, Spike and Jet play rock paper scissors to see who has to treat me because I'm so loud and violent about the pain. Yeah. It's not good.
I'm sure I could handle pain if I really had to, but it's not something that I usually have to deal with. There's a reason I fight cautiously. I really don't like getting hurt, and though I can survive well enough, I just…really hate being in pain. I think the rest of the crew probably hates it too, since I do get kind of cranky when I'm unhappy, and nothing makes me less happy than prolonged pain. Add to that the fact that Spike was driving me stir crazy by refusing to let me go out and gamble away my bounty, and you've got for one crazy bitch. Not that I was rabid with anger or anything, but I was definitely a bit…snappish.
"Jesus, Spike, just let her go spend her damn share, okay?" Jet's impatient entreaty showed exactly how sick the crew was of my less than pleasant behavior over the past few days. I had just been dragged back into the Bebop, protesting at the top of my lungs by Spike, who insisted I was not nearly well enough to be going out on my own.
"I earned it fair and square." I added in my own defense, yanking my still slightly pink arm out of Spike's grip. I had been almost lobster red at first, but now the burns were healing up pretty nicely, even though I was still always feeling a little overheated and tender.
"That's not the point. You were half-dead only five days ago." Spike argued, indicating the couch as though I could really recall the time I'd spent on it unconscious.
"I was not half-dead. I was just a little under the weather." I insisted stubbornly. "And you've gone right back out after just waking up from a lot worse injuries!" I pointed out.
"That's different! I can handle a lot more!" Spike stomped his foot as though that would end the argument.
"Oh! So now I'm some fucking weakling, am I?" I was immediately on the defensive. "You know, I'd already be in perfect fucking heath if you hadn't been such a shitty nurse!"
"See! You're not healthy! You just admitted it!" Spike jumped at my comment, twisting my words at once to serve his purpose.
"That's it!" Jet's voice boomed out, silencing us as though he were a father and we were two disobedient children. "Spike, you say she can't go out alone?"
"Yeah." Spike agreed, glad to see that Jet seemed to be on his side.
"And Faye, you want to go out and spend your money?" Jet asked me. I nodded emphatically, and had to resist the urge to stick my tongue out at Spike. "Fine, Spike, take her to spend her damn money before you both go crazy from cabin fever and I have to shoot you. I'm serious, you two are driving me insane."
"But she can't just…" Spike gaped, amazed that he'd been overruled.
"You said not by myself. Get your coat on, smartass." I clapped my hands together and went to change so that I could really make a night of it. "And grab some money! You're buying us dinner!" I heard a grumbled reply, but I could have cared less. I was going out, and he couldn't stop me from having fun even if he was right there with me.
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"And then I stole his clothes!" I giggled, feeling slightly giddy as I sipped my drink and watched Spike smile slightly next to me at the bar. He had loosened up considerably while we were at the casino, and we'd even managed to rake in a fat chunk of change together before Spike insisted we call it good and leave. Apparently, he thought that our luck would run out if we stayed there all night. Silly Spike. My luck never runs out.
"Did he ever catch you?" Spike asked, taking a sip of his own drink, swirling the glass slightly so the ice settled in it before setting it back down. After dinner and gambling, we'd decided that it was time to go out for a few drinks before calling it a night. Spike had brought me to a pretty classy little bar that I'd actually never been to, buying drinks for both of us as we listened to the little band play live jazz and told old stories together. I think it was probably the most fun I'd ever had with Spike if you didn't count the weird kind of fun I had irritating the hell out of him on a regular basis.
"No way, I'm too good to let some amateur like that catch me." I winked at him, letting my hand drift down to smooth over the skirt of my evening gown. It wasn't the fanciest dress I owned, but I knew for a fact that Spike appreciated it from the way he kept staring at me when he thought I wasn't looking. I knew it would be worth the trouble to get dressed up.
"Wanna dance?" The request came out of seemingly nowhere, but I couldn't turn it down when his right eye flashed at me like that. So I nodded, cocking my head to the side to try and pretend I hadn't been hoping he'd ask me that for most of the night.
"Sure." I managed to say it in a smooth enough voice, taking the hand he offered me and following him up to the small raised area where a few couples were moving around the floor. He gave me a mischievous smile, making a sharp movement that brought me into his arms almost instantly, and I smiled up at him in return, giggling slightly and feeling at ease for the moment. The little band in the corner was playing something a bit lively, and Spike surprised me in his ability to guide me across the floor. I hadn't really ever thought of dancing as one of Spike's skills, but as he kept leading me through tricky moves that were a bit hard for me to follow, I couldn't help but beam up at him, even laughing slightly as he spun me in and out at the end of the song.
"You're pretty good." He told me, his right eye twinkling still, showing that even if he pretended to be an aloof asshole most of the time, he had enjoyed that dance almost as much as I had.
"Where'd you learn to dance, anyway?" I asked him then. "I never knew you could do that."
"Oh, you pick things up, you know." His grin was a lot wider than what I usually got to see from him, and I knew that it was probably due to the feel of the alcohol and the happy rush of our night out together that was making him so open and friendly at the moment. And when the music started again, we didn't return to the bar.
It was a slower song this time, and his smile faded slightly as he drew me in closer, moving us over the floor in a much more reserved manner than before. I felt as though my chest was suddenly very tight, and although he wasn't hugging me to him or anything like that, I felt almost as though I couldn't breathe as I gazed up into those beautiful, enigmatic eyes of his. Neither of us spoke or made any noise then. I don't think we needed to. He was so close…I couldn't see or smell or think of anything past the two of us, moving over that floor in that little bar. It was as though we'd somehow created our own little world there on the dance floor. I was surrounded by his smell, that slight hint of cigarette smoke clinging onto him as always underneath the scent of his shampoo and that musky smell that I always associated him with. I didn't think about it before I buried my face in his shoulder, taking in deep breaths of the smell that had become, to me, the smell of everything important in my life. This was what I had always wanted, to be close to Spike, to share a moment with him that was somehow separate from the rest of the world. And as the song ended and I stepped back, feeling my face heat at how close we had been, I had no time to be embarrassed before his mouth was on mine, gentle while still insistent, tasting just as I had remembered although the flavor was laced slightly with the heady taste of liquor. And somehow, everything was perfect in that moment.
But only a little bit after that, he was pulling away and leading me back to the bar as though nothing of interest had happened just then. Had he not felt what I had out there on the floor? Had he simply meant to kiss me as a friend might kiss another, and all the romance of our dance…had it all been something that I had imagined? I wanted to cry out at the unfairness of it all. Why should I have any idea what my dream could taste like and then have it taken away from me so roughly? Was Spike trying to torture me? Did he know how I felt? But as we reached the bar, he paid the bartender and said something to me that made all the questions in my mind seem very unimportant.
"Let's go get a room." His voice was a bit shaky, and my mouth went dry at the words, but I knew then that at least I hadn't been the only one that had felt the connection as we danced…when we kissed. A million thoughts flew through my mind then. Should I turn him down? I knew he was drunk, and I was more than a little tipsy as well…but it was so tempting. And after all, why shouldn't I enjoy what chances at happiness life offered me? And then I realized that as I had been getting dressed to go out with Spike, this was what I had been hoping for. I had wanted to get his attention, I had wanted to tempt him. I had been trying to seduce him, and as unbelievable as it all seemed, I had succeeded.
"Yeah." I agreed, letting him take my hand again and lead me out the door, not caring what the next morning might bring. I had fought too hard for the joy of one night with him to let questions and doubts ruin it for me. I knew that even if he was attracted to me, there was no way he loved me the way that I loved him, and this night would probably cause complications and make things between us awkward, but I ignored all those warnings. I was going to have my night, dammit.
*****
The End (Of Part 6, That Is)