Woo boy! I am so in the writing mood. I don't know why, you know, you'd think I'd be depressed after wandering around ff.net with my imouto and seeing how many crap-ass shit fics have like a jillion reviews, making me feel like I, too, must be a shitty writer to have only as many or even less of a fanbase than some of those un-original pieces of misspelled, grammatically horrendous garbage, but you know, I feel like I know that I can write, and so I will not pay any heed to those fics out there that look like the bane of any intelligent reader's existence, yet garner more praise than anything five times better, with a beta and an attention to spell-check might deserve…sigh. I will prevail! Why? Because there must be many skilled writers here that feel the same way I do, and they don't let it get them down! Because I love me! And as Jade oftentimes reminds me, she loves me as well! And that, my friends, is more than enough for this writer. Okay, and nooooooow…on to the chapter!
*****
One More Try
Part 8
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"Hey." Spike was sitting on the couch, carelessly smoking a cigarette and watching Ed play with Ein with the sort of casual disinterest that I'd come to expect from him. I had only spoken to Jet about thirty seconds ago, and I was on my way to my room to try and think of some way out of the inevitable confrontation when he spotted me and waved a casual greeting from the couch. You see, to get from Jet's bonsai garden to my room, I had no choice but to cut through the main living area, an unfortunate risk that, of course, resulted in me seeing Spike while I was still in such a state of mental disarray that there was very little I could do to make myself appear natural. "What's up? You look kinda…weird."
"Thanks." Still, after everything, he could push every one of my buttons without even trying. I had to resist the urge to add some biting comment onto that sharp response. "I'm fine." I told him. Now, my plan was actually to continue on my original course to my bedroom without any further conversation, but at that moment I discovered that while my mind thought it was in total control of my actions, my body was a damn rebellious one. My legs seemed to think they had reached their final destination, and as long as Spike's head was craned back toward me, his face staring at me in casual curiosity, I could not get my feet to move forward. So I figured that soon enough he'd look away and I'd be free to go to my room, to bemoan my fate in peace, but no. Of course not.
"You sure?" he stretched his arms out behind his head, leaving his cigarette hanging from his lip in a way that was so cool, so utterly aloof and unconcerned, I just wanted to punch him. He had no idea how not-fine I was, and would he have really cared if he did know? I had my doubts. "You look like you just saw a ghost or something."
"I'm fine." Good, keep the responses nice and simple. At least my mouth seemed to know who was in charge. Although I did wish that my lower lip would stop doing that obnoxious trembling thing. What, was I going to start crying? All because the great, uncaring Spike deemed my condition important enough that it deserved any attention at all from him? I really wanted a hug right then. And maybe some ice cream. And then I realized with terror that I was blushing. Again. What was wrong with me? Couldn't I even make a good effort to pretend I wasn't madly in love with Spike? I mean, really. It was utterly pathetic, the way I fawned over him and became so…girly when he stared at me. Damn his eyes. Damn them, and damn his stupid, sexy voice.
"You look sick." He told me, the concern in his voice barely there, but notable all the same. I hadn't lived with the man for so long without learning to read even the barest amounts of emotion in him.
"Uh…yeah, I'm gonna take a nap." Okay, so it wasn't my best piece of work ever, but at least it was a passable excuse to escape the room. If only I could take charge of those stupid legs of mine…
"What's wrong with you?" Spike asked, stamping out his cigarette butt in the nearby ashtray. Why did he have to keep asking me questions? I was going to go insane, I was sure.
"Nothing much." I told him. Yeah, Spike, I'm just feeling a little queasy. Oh yeah, and I'm carrying your child, that too. No big deal, same old things. "Just a little under the weather."
"So you aren't sick then?" Spike asked, standing up. I prayed to every deity that I'd ever heard of that he was not going to come toward me. Anything but that.
"No…just having a bad day." I think I should have won an award for the understatement of the century there.
"You want some tea?" he asked, stepping toward me with a critical look in his eyes. Obviously, he was trying to tell whether I was full of shit or not. I was used to him not believing me, as I was a pretty big liar. I was about to say no to the tea, when I had a sudden stroke of genius. If I asked for tea, he'd leave to make it, then I could hide in my room and pretend to be asleep so I didn't have to deal with any more of his concern. I hated it when he was concerned for me. It had the nasty result of reminding me how much I loved him, and that really made conversation difficult.
"Yeah, that'd be great." I told him, and suddenly Ed burst into a stream of giggles that only made my blush deepen. Could she tell what was going on? Did she suspect anything? Or was she just being Ed? It was very hard to tell. One thing was for sure. She'd given up playing with Ein and was now sitting on the back of the couch watching us with the utmost fascination.
"I'll boil some real fast then. Go lay down." Spike said it like I was a child and he was in charge. I hated it when he took that tone of voice with me. I was more than three times his age, the damn smartass. But I was not in the mood for lengthened encounters, so I didn't say anything to express my displeasure, only nodding and finding that apparently my legs followed Spike's instructions much better than mine. Stupid legs.
I went straight to my room and climbed into bed, immediately pretending to be asleep. It didn't take very long to make tea, and I didn't want to be having another conversation with Spike until I absolutely had to. I had just tucked myself in, deciding to mess up the blanket on top of me a little to make it look more like I'd been sleeping for a while, when Spike came back in with a steaming cup of tea. Now, there's something you should know about Spike. He makes the shittiest, most disgustingly strong tea I've ever tasted. It's like liquid gruel that tastes nothing short of utterly nauseating. I only ever drank his tea once before swearing it off, and I wasn't about to start doing it again. Thus the feigned sleep. Well, that and I didn't want to have to make a fool of myself talking to him again.
"Faye?" his voice came to me, but I knew he was coming from the overpowering smell of the tea. How did anyone make tea that strong? It was like he boiled it until it was nothing but essence of tea. I doubt eating the teabag raw was as disgusting as his tea. Part of the problem was that he seemed to think that if he put enough sugar in, you wouldn't be able to tell that his tea sucked, but then it was sickeningly sweet at the same time, and it just made you want to gag. "Come on, I made you tea." I had hoped that he would be respectful of my sleep, real or not, but no. He insisted on waking me up to drink that nasty tea of his. Would there be no end to my suffering?
"M'sleeping." I grumbled, snuggling against my pillow and hope he'd catch my less than subtle hint and just leave me alone.
"Just drink it." He insisted, back to his regrettable role as nursemaid, jostling me to wake me up. Spike was seriously the worst nurse ever, and I thought it was damn funny that someone so utterly unskilled at taking care of others could possibly question my ability to do the same. "You'll feel better."
"I'm tired." I told him. I was not actually tired, but I would rather sleep for a month straight than drink that nasty crap. "Just let me sleep."
"It'll only take a minute. While it's still hot." He insisted. Damn, men can be so pushy sometimes. Maybe it wasn't really as disgusting as I remembered. Sitting up with a sullen pout on my face, I took the hot cup he was offering and after watching the steam rise off of it for a few moments, took a deep gulp of it.
"Ugh…god…what do you put in here? Raw fuel?" I asked, my face contorting at the absolutely unbearable flavor. It was just as bad as I remembered, it seemed. I pushed the mug back at him and he shot me a look of hurt confusion. Yeah, well he could be as sad as he wanted about it; it wasn't going to make me finish that disgusting shit off. "I'm not drinking any more of that."
"It's just tea." Spike took a sip and looked around. "Tastes fine to me." He was obviously very touchy about this whole tea issue, but seriously, I think that if I would have finished the whole cup, it would have solved my problem by killing me and that damn baby.
"It's the worst tea I've ever tasted." I told him. "Get me some water or something to wash out the taste…gaw…" I was probably not making a very attractive face right then, but I could have cared less. That tea was a hazard to my health, and besides that, I had my baby to think about. I couldn't just be drinking random nasty tasting drinks. Of course, the thought of the baby just made my face go completely white and then completely red in the space of about five seconds.
"God, whatever. Fucking princess. I was just trying to help." Spike was angry now, so I didn't think that he noticed the flash of mortification and embarrassment that crossed my face so quickly until he paused in his sulky tirade to quirk an eyebrow at me. "What's wrong with you anyway? You're making some weird ass faces. You're all red." And then he put his hand on my forehead, feeling for a fever. Of course, that did not help my face return to it's original color, and his brow furrowed in that cute, concentrated face he sometimes makes before he gave me his diagnosis. "You have a fever."
"No I don't, just leave me alone." Okay, so I was a tad bit touchy. In my defense, I was going through a very stressful time right then.
"Yes you do, you're all hot, see?" he picked up my hand and pressed it to my forehead as if that would get his point across. What was I supposed to say to that? I wasn't about to tell him I was blushing, so I decided that the best way out was another lie.
"Okay, yeah, I've got a fever. Now leave so I can sleep it off." I ordered him. Not that I was really going to sleep. I had way too much to think about.
"Shouldn't you eat soup or something?" he made a face at me. Apparently, he thought that after that tea, I was going to trust him to make soup. Yeah right.
"Maybe later. Go away and leave me alone. And don't bother me again. I need my rest." I got up, pushing him out of the room.
"I'll tell you when it's time for dinner." He seemed upset, but as was usual ever since the hotel, he didn't want to start a fight with me. That was just too much for both of us.
"I'm not hungry, just leave." I slammed the door in his face and went to collapse on my bed. Why wouldn't that man just leave me alone? I could remember when he never used to have a problem ignoring me. It was like he was only paying attention to me now because it was when I wanted to be able to disappear. How aggravatingly male of him.
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I stood in front of my mirror, frowning at my profile as I let the steam from my shower dissolve around me. I was about three months pregnant now, and even though Jet knew, he'd been true to his word and not said one thing about it to Spike or Ed. Of course, Spike knew something was wrong with me once the morning sickness kicked in. He thought I had the flu, and I was so angry at him for nagging me that I told him it was from being poisoned by his raunchy tea. He was still pretty touchy about that, so he huffed off after I said it and then didn't ask again about my wellbeing.
I was starting to wonder if it was just my imagination, or if I was forming a little bit of extra flesh out in front of me. I understood perfectly well that I wasn't go to stay my usual slender self for the duration of the pregnancy, but as I wasn't the expert on such things, I wasn't quite sure how long it would be until I started to show. Maybe I was just getting fat in my old age. Either way, it wasn't much, and the only reason I noticed it was because I was so obsessed with keeping in perfect condition, since I lived and died by my sex appeal. And of course, that begged the question of what would I do when I started to swell up like a balloon? I couldn't go around running everywhere and seducing bounties and all that. I would have to take a break, it seemed, and since I was already feeling guilty about having Jet take in my child, that only compounded with the idea of being out of commission for a few months worth of sitting around and just being fat.
And I still hadn't told Spike. Sucking in my stomach as far as it would go, I pursed my lips and let it back out again. No use trying to hide it forever, I suppose. I knew that even if I continued to walk around in increasingly concealing clothing, Spike would be able to notice I was pregnant before too long. As it was, he was giving me weird looks for insisting on wearing loose shirts and jeans around the ship, since I rarely wore such things. I had shrugged and said that it was a bit chilly on the ship, but I knew that he was suspicious. I couldn't bear to have him make some comment about me putting on weight, though. It was inescapable. I'd have to tell him. Now if only I could work up the nerve to do it.
"Faye, what are you doing in there!" Spike's voice was irate and utterly impatient. He still didn't want any prolonged fights with me, but he was also getting sick of me pushing him around because I thought he'd just step aside rather than start a fight. Not that I'd been abusing it all that much, but I was very cranky lately. I had a lot on my mind.
"Just wait a second, asshole!" I retorted. Of course, that was a pretty friendly exchange between us considering some of the things we said when we were actually angry, but I wasn't about to let him push me around either. I wrapped my hair in a towel and put my robe on before exiting the bathroom with my back straight and my chin raised defiantly. He had been so moody lately, I sometimes wondered which one of us was the one who was pregnant. Although he could have just been upset that I was treating him like the asshole he was once again. "There, I'm finished."
"About time." He grumbled before taking my spot in the bathroom. I went to change into my jeans and shirt, and stretched the shirt tight over my stomach momentarily while still in my room. Yes, I was definitely starting to show, if only the tiniest bit. Time was running out, and I knew it. Taking a deep breath, I walked out into the main living area and then through into the kitchen, where my fresh pot of coffee waited for me.
"You know, I hear that stuff isn't really good for babies." Jet's voice startled me and I almost spilled coffee on my hand as I poured.
"Shit, Jet, don't say stuff like that where anyone can hear. Scared the shit out of me." I set the pot back and spooned some sugar into my cup, stirring it lightly. "Anyway, a little coffee won't kill it. I've cut down to a cup a day, but this kid's gonna have to make a compromise until I can quit completely."
"I noticed you've quit smoking." Jet commented, leaning against the counter slightly as he watched me add milk to my coffee. I used to drink it black, but I figured it wasn't as bad if I put milk in it. "That must've been hard."
"Not really. Not as bad as this." I admitted, sipping at the hot liquid. "I feel like I'm half asleep all the time."
"Spike's noticed too." Jet continued, his arms crossing. "He asked me about it. Seems to think something's wrong with you. He says you haven't smoked for nearly two months now, and he thinks maybe you're hiding something from us. He's also worried about the morning sickness and the clothes."
"Well it's none of his business." I grumbled.
"Faye, he has a right to know. He'll find out soon enough, anyway. T-shirts and jeans aren't going to hide anything in a few months." Jet lectured. "And what do you think you're going to do? Just keep it hidden in your room like a pet?"
"No! God…I know, Jet. Don't you think I've thought about all this already?" I hated feeling guilty. "But really, what do you suggest I do? Just walk up to him and say, 'hey Spike, want a kid? Well, today's your lucky day!' It's ridiculous. He'll pitch a fucking fit when I tell him. He's been acting like a premenstrual bitch lately."
"That's only because he's worried." Jet assured me. "You just need to have a talk with him. And…try to keep it free of violence, okay? You two can get a little…rough at times, and I'd not really like spending a weak cleaning up after you."
"Yeah…yeah, I know. I'll tell him. Really." I sighed at Jet's dubious expression. "I swear, I really will tell him. I'll tell him today."
"Tell who what?" Spike chose that utterly perfect moment to come into the kitchen, towel around his waist, hair still dripping water down his bare chest. And after I'd made it a point not to see him coming out of the shower for the past three months. Damn him and his hot body.
"Faye and I were just talking about you." Jet told Spike as I shot him a look of absolute horror. There I was thinking that Spike was the most evil man alive, when it turned out that Jet was five times worse! How cruel was my life? "She has something she needs to tell you, doesn't she?"
"Uh…well I don't have to tell him right now." I licked my lips nervously. "Maybe he's busy."
"I'm not doing anything." Spike moved toward me and I skittered away before realizing he was just trying to get some coffee. That, or give me a heart attack. "What is it?"
"Maybe…um…maybe Jet wants to leave now." I glared at the older man. He was not going to watch me tell Spike. I wouldn't allow it.
"Oh, yeah, I just remembered I needed to water my trees." Jet smiled at us both, gave me a wink, and left. I wanted to kick him.
"So…what is it that you needed to tell me?" Spike was still a little groggy, straight out of the shower with no coffee in his system yet, so I thought that maybe that would make things easier.
"Well…um…well, it's about you. And me…and um…um, that night." I prayed that he wouldn't force me to go into details. I was having a hard enough time, what with him half naked and drinking his coffee as though nothing at all was amiss.
"I thought…we weren't going to talk about that." Now, maybe I was just a little delusional, but I swear to you that Spike blushed at that point, and you have no idea how much better I felt to see him disconcerted like that. "Wait…does Jet know?"
"Um…yeah, kinda." I managed to offer an apologetic smile as thunderclouds brewed on Spike's face.
"Why would you tell him things like that?" Spike was upset, but still too slow and groggy to really yell at me. Instead he sounded confused and a little louder than usual.
"I had to! I needed his advice!" This was not going well at all. We weren't even to the real issue, and he was already looking rather violent. And after I'd told Jet we wouldn't break things…
"What? His advice? Were you guys having a fucking slumber party or something? Did you paint each other's nails?" I couldn't tell if Spike was partially jealous that I'd been confiding in Jet or just one hundred percent pissed at me for telling our secret, but he looked ready to raise hell, and he was not listening to me at all.
"No! God, Spike, just pay attention for five fucking seconds without making some smartass comment!" I slammed my cup down on the counter sharply, and for once, Spike actually listened to me. That, or he was taking exceptionally long to think of a good comeback while he blinked at me. "I'm pregnant, okay? That's why Jet knows about us! Because I didn't know what to do, and I knew you would figure out it was yours if I stayed, and I didn't want to get rid of it even though I have no fucking clue how to raise a kid, so I went to him for advice! And he knew it was yours as soon as I told him I was pregnant, so don't go blaming me for telling your secret, because he'd figured it out already! So there!"
In all the time that I'd known Spike, we had been in countless arguments over many topics, from why I took an apparently "unreasonable" amount of time in the shower, to why I didn't like his cooking, to why I thought he was annoying as all hell. Through the course of these arguments, I had managed to cause many reactions in Spike, so I actually had seen him struck speechless on a few rare occasions before, but it was a hard thing to do, and the effects usually never lasted for more than a minute. Much less five. I had gone back to drinking my coffee after I finished, feeling the rush of adrenaline that always comes when Spike and I fight, and trying not to shake with anxiety as I awaited his response to the news, but once I'd finished my coffee and he was still staring at me, mouth slightly ajar, I decided that maybe this once, I'd actually damaged Spike. It hadn't been my intention, so I set the mug down and walked over to him, tilting my head to look in his eyes. Well, he was still blinking. That was a good sign, right?
"Spike? Aren't you going to say anything?" I prompted him. It seemed he had needed some sort of reminder, so he worked his jaw soundlessly for a few moments before managing a very eloquent reply.
"Uh…oh…" he blinked again and downed his coffee in one huge drink before setting the cup down and blinking at me again. "So…this is why…"
"I've been sick, yes." I finished for him. Obviously, he was in some advanced state of shock. I'd been pretty surprised when I found out, too. "And that's why I've been wearing these clothes…it's starting to show just a little, you see. I quit smoking and drinking right away, since it's bad for the baby. And I've been weaning myself off of coffee, so…yeah."
"Baby?" he repeated. "You're still…pregnant then?"
"Of course." I sighed, trying to be patient. "I told you I wanted to keep it."
"But…you can't be a mother!" he protested wildly.
"Why not?" I asked, feeling a bit defiant. "I can do a damn good job, I bet."
"But…you're a bounty hunter with a fucking bounty on your own head. Don't you think…you shouldn't be raising any kids?" Spike questioned.
"I thought about that." I nodded. It had been a big concern. "But Jet said that since it's ours, I can keep it and stay on the ship, in which case it's actually no big problem. I don't think that I could have kept it if I didn't have somewhere to stay." I explained.
"Why…I didn't know you wanted to be a mother." Spike's eyes were still wide in shock and confusion. "Why'd you want to keep it?"
"I…just did." I pressed my eyes closed, because I knew that I couldn't tell him the real reason. I'd figured it out by then, of course. I was hopelessly, madly in love with Spike, and I knew he would never feel the same way. The baby was material proof of the fact that for one glorious night, I'd been with him, and even if it was just sex to him, it was something so much more to me. That night was the only time in my entire life when I'd made love to a man, and the baby inside of me was proof of my feelings and of the faint possibility that Spike could want me back. And by that time, I was starting to think that maybe the motherhood thing wouldn't be so bad. Think of it, after all. To have one human being that loves you unquestioningly from the moment it first sees you, that relies on you entirely. I'd never had something like that before, and I wanted it so much.
"And…Jet knows?" Spike came back to that point again. "You told him, but you didn't tell me?"
"I couldn't tell you. I didn't want to." I admitted. "I thought…you'd think…maybe you'd feel like…you were responsible and all…I didn't want you to…you know." And I was once again reduced to a pile of uncommunicative mush.
"You thought I'd want to take responsibility if I found out?" Spike was apparently gaining strength from my lack of ability to speak properly. "Well…I mean, I guess it's my kid. It is mine, right?"
"Of course!" I snapped, but I blushed immediately afterward. It wasn't as though Spike was trying to be cruel by asking such a thing. I wasn't exactly an innocent, as he knew well enough. "It's yours, I know it is."
"Well…what am I supposed to do now?" he looked so lost, and I had to laugh bitterly at how it was a reflection of my own feelings as of late.
"I wish I knew what I was supposed to do." I told him. "I don't know…Jet says it's your responsibility too, and all that, but I didn't really ask you if you wanted this, so I guess it's up to you. If you want to play daddy, that's your deal, but I think I'm perfectly capable of raising this child on my own."
"You don't think…we should…you know?" Spike still looked confused, but I just patted his shoulder. I'd had enough for one day.
"I'm not asking you to marry me or anything. I'm just saying that it's really up to you whether you want to be a father or not. You can have time to think about it, if that helps." I offered.
"Uh…yeah…time to think." Spike picked up his coffee mug and tried to drink from it. Looking confused that it was empty, he went to fill it back up as I walked back to my room. Well, at least that was over with. And we didn't even break anything.
*****
The End (Of Part 8, That Is)