Disclaimer: Do I actually have to do this a THIRD time? They're not mine, I promise! (Well, okay, guitar-guy's mine, not that he believes it… *grumbles and kicks her toe in the dirt*) Although… *grins* It'd be nice to borrow Vicious for a while… *grins widely, insanity in her eyes* (hinthint, nudgenudge)

AN: So sorry for those of you who (greatly mistakenly) thought this fic was rated a nice, safe G. HA! DAMN YOU, FF.NET!!! DAMN YOU!!! *shakes pink fuzzy slipper* Pfft, this is the third time I've had to fix the rating… it's up to PG-13 now, and if that makes me lose any readers… well, damn, that sucks, but that's the way the ball bou… um. Nevermind. ^^; Too many sexual innuendoes in that one… Anyways, thanks goes out to Aniiston for pointing out that ff.net had still ignored my rating upping. And to warn you, in a chapter or two, this story will more likely than not be once again upgraded- to R. That was the originally intended rating but hey, there it is. That's just to warn you all so you know where to look for me when I change it. Thanks and more from our sponsors (me) later! Enjoy!

Chapter Three: Centerstage Gypsy

…But some things in this world, man, they don't make sense

And some things you don't need until they leave you

Then they're the things that you miss

You say baby, baby, baby, when all your love is gone

Who will save me from all I'm up against out in this world

Maybe, maybe, maybe you'll find something that's enough to keep you

But if the bright lights don't receive you

You should turn yourself around and come on home

Let that city take you in

(Come on home)

Let that city spit you out

(Come on home)

Let that city take you down, yeah

For god's sakes turn around!

Baby, baby, baby, when all your love is gone

Who will save me from all I'm up against out in this world

Maybe, maybe, maybe you'll find something that's enough to keep you

But if the bright lights don't receive you, yeah

Turn yourself around and come on home!…[1]

Faye lay in her bed, scratching uncomfortably at the sling that held her left arm captive. Please. Like she really needed a sling. She'd had much worse than a dis-and-relocated shoulder before, it wasn't like she couldn't handle it. But nooo, musician-boy had to go all General Hospital on her broke ass as soon as she popped out of the bathroom and baby her every scrape, bump, bruise and scratch. What the hell was he, her mother? How annoying.

Although… it was kind of nice. Somebody hovering over me for once, not vice versa. This time, somebody cared about me

Faye rolled her eyes at her own thoughts, carefully turning over beneath the sheets, more sore from the guitar player's "helpful" ministrations than from the actual wounds. The man had to be some sort of sadist, the way he wielded peroxide and bandages like a trained professional. Hell, he was probably a doctor once, or a med school dropout. Physicians, dentists, you name it, they were all a horde of sadistic bastards; hell, all you had to do was wonder why they called what they did "practice". Practice? So, what, patients were just living, breathing test dummies? Well if that were the case, when the fuck were the little sonuvabitches gonna get it right?

Vaguely, she reflected to herself that her thoughts had strayed into spiraling threads of incoherent mental babble, and she wondered when and why she had deviated from… whatever the hell she'd been thinking about before getting so entangled in her rant.

Hmmm… well, at least he recognized the medical applications of whiskey… as long as your patient is slinging back some liquor, they don't have time between gulps to complain… oh wait… yeah, that's right, that explains it… I'm drunk… Heh.

A small, ironically bitter half-smile curved one corner of her mouth as she reached out and touched that warm, comforting buzz flowing sluggishly in her veins, wrapping it around her like a dryer-fresh blanket and snuggling deep into the cozy feeling. She knew the sensation wouldn't last until morning, which was only all the more reason to enjoy her inebriation before the hangover brought on by dawn.

As her eyes were sliding slowly, heavily closed, a miscellaneous, completely unbidden thought sifted to the hazy, dying spotlight in her alcohol-diluted mind. I wonder what his name is…

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Marcus yawned as he leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms as far above his head as he could, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck from side to side, hoping to get the kinks out. "Man, they don't pay us enough for this…"

"I hear ya man, graveyard shift sucks ass." Marcus's colleague and sole companion for this evening's term, Andrew, set down a styrofoam cup of coffee on the console in front of Marcus, cradling his own in his hands like a sort of Holy Grail.

Marcus tipped his head in thanks and agreement, sipping slowly at the scalding, deliciously bitter brew. Before this job, he had hated coffee with a passion, and now it was a nightly necessity to keep him awake, and he drank it strong and black. Working for the docking company on Avalon didn't pay a whole lot, and despite the satellite-city's robust nightlife, there was hardly any incoming traffic at night. And there was even more rarely outgoing. Ever. He liked to think of the little Sinner's Valley as a roach motel; "They check in, but they don't check out." And it was true. People came here to run away, or to find a place to hide. They ran here and found a society that was all about secrecy and lies, so they never left. Dockers' jobs were hardly what one would call profitable or auspicious in a place like this.

Marcus had been staring blearily at the little blinking red light for some time, contemplating the ups and downs of his occupation, before he actually registered the little beacon. When his hazy, yet-to-be-caffeinated brain finally did take the hint, he swore fervently and shot up in his chair, nearly spilling scalding coffee into his lap. "Shit. Um, yes, welcome to Skiff's Docking. How may I help you?" He mashed the button for visual link-up, nearly jamming his clumsy finger in the process. However, it was a wasted effort as all that the screen produced was a fuzzed green-blue image of vaguely human configuration, static overlaying the screen like a thick flurry of crackling snow. "Are you requesting clearance to dock, Sir, ah, Ma'am?…"

"Sir. Well, well, you boys are awfully slow on the uptake tonight. Veeery professional, I especially loved the profanity. One too many donuts?" The voice was nerve-grindingly smug, the kind that seemed like it would have a permanently sardonic smirk attached. Smooth tenor tones were laced with bored self-confidence as the man plunged on, heedless of the docker's rising ire. "Yes, I want in. What, you thought I'd prefer to hang out here in space all night?"

Marcus shot Andrew a glare as the other man turned on the radio and raised the volume a few decibels, some ancient song pouring forth from the speakers. "I wear my sunglasses at night so I can, so I can…"

There was an audibly condescending snort from the other end of the connection, probably in tandem with a sarcastic roll of the smartass's eyes.

Marcus scowled uselessly at the screen, knowing that his image was just as fuzzy on the opposite end of the link and not particularly caring. "You'll need to scan the appropriate credits through first, Sir."

The voice came in a lazy, patronizing drawl. "Already been done."

Squinting down at the tiny left-hand screen of statistics, he noted with contrition that it was as the other had said. "Um, yes, I see." He entered the correct codes into the outdated mainframe. "You may proceed through Dock 4 and pick up your verification card from the receptionist on your way out. Enjoy your stay on Avalon."

There was a moment of silence through which Andrew's annoying music pervaded, droning, "I wear my sunglasses at night, I wear my sunglasses at night, I wear my sunglasses at night…"[2]

Just when Marcus began to think the man had fallen asleep or left, that aggravatingly cocky, level voice broke through the repetitive lyrics. "Whatever. I'm sick of this song…"

And the connection was cut.

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The room was potent with the overpowering bouquet of cheap perfume and even cheaper alcohol, the occasional drift of nicotine laden breath sparking a spasmodic twitch of fingers or wetting of scarlet lips. Small, capable hands reached several times into the pockets of a beaten suit jacket, nimble fingers searching and questing in the folds and creases of the fabric for one, just one measly little–

Goddammit.

Faye needed a fix. Apparently, sometime during her friendly little throwdown the night before, her handheld oasis had gotten away from her, lost. Granted, the pack of Cowboys had been a cheap, bland brand of cigarettes, but they were cigarettes, and her one and only pack. She was nowhere near going through withdrawal, but stress had been weighing her down the moment she was unwillingly coughed up out of oblivion and into the waking world of sensory overload, bereft without a single cancer stick to her name and temporarily robbed of the sex appeal that could bum her one. Dammit, she was never going to drink again.

Faye sighed, picking at the growing hole in the knee of her faded blue jeans. She'd had them since her time on the Bebop, but everyone there had always made her out to be the company slut, so she hadn't really found the opportunity to wear them. She was breaking them out now because she didn't feel sexy today, and she needed something that would cover all of her glorious scrapes and bruises until they properly healed. Damn… she really, really needed a cigarette right about now.

"Got a light?"

The question was innocuous enough on its own, as was the proffered hand with a waiting-to-be-lit cig that hovered over her left shoulder. However, Faye could feel her strained grip on her broiling temper loosen all too easily, that telltale muscle in her brow jumping erratically. What. The hell. Is wrong with this guy?! I'm sitting here, desperately pining away for just one sweet, addiction-feeding drag and he has the balls to ask me for a light?! WHAT THE FUCKING HELL?!

Lips warping into a vicious, mutated form of a smile, Faye whipped her head around in a snakelike fashion, bloodshot eyes snapping with a readied scathing barb- until, of course, they happened to latch onto the lean, svelte form of the ballsy unfortunate. At this point, her eyes widened, showing white all around, a thin band of emerald ringing dilated pupils as they caught and snagged on a pair of amused, expressional pair of slate hues.

"You." Her tone could only be described as venomous as her small mouth pursed into a star-shaped spot of red in her pale face. "Are you… are you stalking me?" What, didn't fuck me over bad enough last night?!

"Oh, it's you. Wow, you look like shit," was the guitar-player's oh-so gracious comment. Faye had only once before met a man with such gall, such lack of tact. And she refused, refused to let this one get to her as he had. Oh no, she would bathe in his blood before he reduced her to a sniffling, bratty bimbo who couldn't even manage second place.

Her eyes narrowed to smouldering slits on him, scowling broodingly. "Yeah, thanks to you. What the hell kinda crackpot doctor are you, giving your patient whiskey? At least last night I could think straight. And I ended up sorer from your 'help' than from anything those jackasses did. I'm lucky to be walking around after your work-over."

Only when his mouth curled slowly into a lazy, mischievous smirk did she realize the way her words had come out and wished she had managed to at least consider them before she just… spat them out. Aw… shit. She felt the faintest of blushes color her cheeks and shot up from her rickety little wooden chair, hand slamming down on the short tabletop angrily. She was acting like a petulant child, and she didn't care. She was short on cash, on nicotine, and even shorter on patience. To hell with dignity. Fuck maturity. "Oh, Jesus tapdancing Christ, you fucking perv!"

He only shrugged slowly, eyes twinkling in amusement at her little outburst. He was obviously enjoying twisting her words around on her. It allowed him to get the most out of the situation with the least effort. "Hey, you said it; I'm an innocent party in this."

"Innocent like hell."

"And you would have me believe you were a saint? Please, I did see the way you fought last night." He leaned in close, much too close for Faye's comfort, breath warm and smelling of spearmint when he spoke. "You're no angel. No, you fight like a demon."

Faye found herself switching moods faster than a hormonal teenager, abruptly transforming herself from piss-bitch to deliberately mysterious vixen in the space of a heartbeat. Her mouth curled like devil's horns as she leaned even further in towards him, lips nearly brushing the skin of his exposed ear as she whispered, "You're right, I'm no angel…" She heard bitter laughter in the back of her head, recalling how everyone had always referred to a certain blonde bombshell as an angel. Faye pulled back a little, subconsciously sliding her hand up the side of her waist, riding up the soft fabric of her tight cotton black tank. "But I'm no demon, either."

He smiled, something endearingly genuine and almost infectious flirting behind that boyish grin. "So then, what are you?"

Faye's smile became a little softer, a little sadder, recalling another time, another man, another musician and the first time she'd been able to speak freely without fear in almost three years… Leaning her weight back against the table, she replied in a low, silky voice, "I'm a fairy."

The man laughed at that, a nice, sonorous laugh that echoed somewhere in her chest and trembled along her fingertips. "A fairy." He looked at her sideways, as if trying to examine her in another light, or as if a different angle could lend her wings and pointed ears. Whatever he was looking for, he seemed to find as he righted his posture, hands sliding into his pockets. "It suits you."

She found the ghost of a real smile touching at her own lips and let it serve as a her sole rejoinder. How could someone she didn't even know coax a true smile out of Poker Alice when she herself hadn't been able to dredge up such a genuine expression in ages?

"So, my little Fairy," he grinned, holding up two cigarettes this time. Ah, give a woman what she craves and you save yourself from the grasp of Hell's fires. "Got a light?"

Grinning like a child presented with candy, Faye brought out her lighter, flicking it open and touching the small flame to each waiting stick and inhaling deeply as that intoxicating, much-craved smoke began to curl from the ends.

When he offered it, she silently took hers and brought it to her lips, taking a deep, relaxing drag gratefully. Almost immediately, the tensions eased in her muscles and her fingers felt at peace with a glowing fag perched delicately between them.

By some unspoken agreement, the pair headed for the door and out into the "sunny" mid-afternoon of Avalon. Faye ran a hand through her hair, fingers sliding silently through the fine violet strands as a stream of white blew from between her lips. She placed the cigarette back in her mouth and pushed the sleeves of her suit-jacket up to her elbows, as it was safe enough to show that much without looking like an abuse victim. She was still pretty banged up, ugly bruises decorating her upper left arm and scratches of all sorts drawing angry red designs over the once-flawless canvas of her legs. The neck of her tank top was straight, reaching to her collarbones, though a few thin red traces curved around to the base of one side of her throat. She scowled, comforting herself with happy fantasies of Yellow and Blue looking like mummies in some hospital. Keh, no, that was too easy. She hoped instead that they were sitting in some jail cell- if Avalon even had such facilities- and in the company of "friendly" co-convicts. Yes, that was much better.

Bringing herself from her vicious reveries, Faye snuck a peek at the guitar-man out of the corner of her eyes, noting that, while he had been correct in his opinion of her appearance, he was looking nothing short of gorgeous at the moment. His chocolate tresses were once again tied back at his nape, unruly bangs filtering into his lively eyes and whispering along the high planes of his smooth cheeks. The slightest bit of stubble shadowed his chin and jawline, but it only served to make him look rakishly handsome, especially with that damned near-constant smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. And he really did have a nice mouth… Faye's attention deliberately moved to his dress, which consisted of a pair of dark blue jeans in much better repair than her own, fitting snugly to his narrow waist and showing off that he indeed had a nice ass. His shirt wasn't exactly what one would call tight, but the black cotton fit him in such a way that the fabric moved and hinted at washboard abs and a chiseled chest. The lack of sleeves brought attention to his slender yet muscular arms, arms that seemed just waiting to wrap around a girl's waist, hands that looked as capable of soft caresses as lethal blows. It was a tantalizing image, and even Faye found herself tempted.

She continued watching him as they wandered their way aimlessly through the labyrinthine streets, eventually drifting out of the meandering crowds and into emptier regions that were blessedly lacking in the boisterous noise of the bar streets they had begun from. It wasn't long until they were the only pair on a lonely sidewalk, faceless, nameless warehouses rising around them, harboring anonymity behind their analogous cement effigies.

"Like what you see?" His voice broke through her observations in quiet amusement, though she had never turned her face to look at him, and he had had his eyes trained forward for as long as they'd been walking.

If Faye had been surprised by his perceptiveness, she never showed it. A coy smile touched her mouth and she put her gaze in front of them again. "Maybe."

"Hm… good."

"Oh? What, afraid to be found unattractive?"

He grinned. She didn't look, but she could feel it. "No, not worried about that."

"What then?"

"That's my little secret."

"You should know, I'm very good at getting information I happen to want."

"That so?"

"Care to find out?"

"Uh… Maybe later." Faye turned an inquisitive look on him and caught the wary look in his eyes, transparent eyes that didn't have anything to hide. And right now, they weren't hiding his tension. He glanced one way, then another, then reached out and gently hooked a hand around Faye's right bicep. "Come on."

Faye didn't struggle or protest as he led her towards an alleyway, only asked, "What is it?"

"We're being followed. More accurately, I think you're being followed."

"Who the hell would want to shadow me?" Obviously, Faye's brain wasn't working so well through her dying hangover, because as soon as the words left her mouth, she knew she'd asked a rather stupid question.

As if to prove her point, guitar-guy gave her a wry, quirked-brow look, amusement dancing in his cobalt hues as if she were some eternal source of mirth for him. "Gee, well I don't think you made any friends last night, do you?"

"No not really." Her tone was dry but she could feel the embarrassment burning on her cheeks.

"Shh." He placed a finger to her lips, pressing them together and ignoring her wide-eyed expression as he similarly pressed his body to hers, tipping his head down and hunching his shoulders protectively.

Faye's already scattered thoughts broke into a fragmented frenzy, hyper aware of every inch of her body that oh-so seamlessly molded to his frame. She could feel the warmth of him radiating through both of their clothes, and though a distant part that personified the infamous Shrew, Faye Valentine, screamed at her to push him away, get him off, suckerpunch the bastard, something- she didn't move. Her body was completely unresponsive to her muddled mind's commands, arms hanging limp at her sides and spine frozen stiff. Her head was turned up, eyes breaching the distance of their heights and locked to his unblinking gaze. His finger hadn't moved from her mouth, as if he thought she might try to yell at him and blow their cover if he released his simple yet commanding hold on her mouth. His face held no expression, even that wry twist to the corner of his lips absent.

She could feel her every slow, even breath matching his, her breasts brushing against his rising chest each time they inhaled, stoking an unwelcome, unwilling warmth curling low in her belly. His hand dropped away from her face, and she found herself wanting the warm, soft touch back. However, each and every thought about his body's proximity to hers was banished as she belatedly heard what he had noticed so much sooner: footsteps. They were evenly paced and slow, deliberate, cautious. There was more than one set, at least one other striding along in perfect sync. There were no murmurings, no grumblings about work or friendly banter; just a heavy, tension-thickened silence. That, if anything, is what confirmed guitar-man's assertions to Faye.

Her eyes narrowed, a shifty, hard look entering unbeknownst into the jaded jade depths and she broke the deadlocked stare with the man in front of her, gaze furtively looking for someplace to see what was coming at her. They came to rest on a dim-lit slat between the wall and guitar-guy's ribs, and she, without so much as a thought, pressed herself flush against his lean frame, missing the widening of his eyes as she stood on tiptoe to peer over his shoulder, one small hand bracing on his sternum, again oblivious as he inhaled sharply, then calmed again almost immediately.

Faye watched through her bangs as three silhouettes passed by the mouth of the alley, none of the shadowed figures even taking a glance in the hidden pair's direction. Green irises narrowed to suspicious slits, silently cursing the artificial sunset that backlit the mysterious figures and hid their features in shadow.

At last, they were far enough away, and she allowed herself to relax in the slightest, body melting away from the hard lines of guitar-guy's frame and back touching the cold cement behind her. "They're gone. Who do you think they were?"

He didn't answer right away, and Faye's eyes skittered to his face, all her wariness not lost. His visage was carefully expressionless, though his eyes were far from blank, and just as unreadable. A line crept between her brows in unspoken concern, but it was shoved to the back of her mind as he cleared his throat and gave his belated reply.

"Uhm… my best guess would be someone else from the White Tiger syndicate. Your little friends last night were their new high rollers, and I don't think they much appreciated your handiwork."

Faye's eyes widened, mouth gaping open and loosing a heated rush of profanity. Just wonderful! As if having to watch every step she made for creditors and collectors weren't enough! Fuckity-fuck-fuck! "What the fucking hell should they be going after me for?! I'm not the one who kicked their asses, you are! So maybe it's you they're so desperately seeking an audience with, huh?!" She punctuated her point by stabbing a ruby nail into his chest, forcing him back a few steps with a slight grunt and grimace.

"If they were after me, I'd know." His face slackened a little, as if in relief. He regained his cool, lackadaisical expression and took another step away from her, his shoulders lifting and posture righting as the distance between them increased. "What you should be worried about is what you're going to do about them."

"Do?" Faye blinked, as if this angle had not occurred to her. "Well… I'll leave, I guess. No use sticking around here if I'll have to skulk around in the shadows…"

Guitar-guy snorted softly as she trailed off, arching a single brow as she shot him a droll, unamused look. "You're just going to run away from them, then? It's a syndicate, my Fairy; they don't just go away."

Faye's features darkened for a moment, her gaze drawing inward to peer down some interminably long and shadowed corridor of the past. "I know," she murmured. "Running away from people like them… only makes everything worse."

Oddly, the nonchalant musician got the impression that she was speaking on an entirely separate subject, her words only relating to the situation at hand by happenstance as her attention refocused on something else, something he couldn't see and couldn't comprehend. However, he decided to simply file those thoughts away for later speculation, and address her statements as if she had been speaking in the here and now. "So face them. That's all there really is you can do."

At last, she seemed to return to herself, to the present, there with him. She cast him a wry, sarcastic glance, replying, "Riiight… and how exactly am I to do that? If you've forgotten, I'm not exactly in peak condition to go busting ass."

He simply smiled in return. "So let me help you."

Faye looked up into his eyes in confusion, her brows drawing together and eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Help me?" She took a step away from him, as if only just remembering that this was a stranger, someone she knew absolutely nothing about, not even so much as a name to call him by. What was wrong with her? This was no time to not have her head together. She didn't know anything about him and had no grounds on which to place him on any level of trust. But… it seemed so… natural, so easy to simply give him credence and rely on his strength. "Why would you help me? Why have you helped me this far?" She licked her lips a little nervously, suddenly worried about her current position, fingers creeping oh-so slowly towards the back of her waistband, where she had secured her Glock.

She never had a chance.

There was no warning, no telltale gesture or giveaway movements; it was that sudden. He was that fast.

The next thing Faye's mind registered was the low pain as her back slammed against the wall once again, the warmth and strong solidity as his body was molded to her front, the tight, careful grip his long, artistic fingers held on her wrists, pinning her to the cinderblock behind her. Wincing from the initial pain of having still-fresh bruises and scrapes so roughly handled, her wounded emerald gaze sought out his cool sapphire ones, a wave of uneasy nostalgia rushing through her as a pair of mismatching chocolate hues were momentarily superimposed over guitar-man's eyes.

The unnerving image was dispelled as he refocused her attention on him, bending his head so that their eyes were level, breaths mingling and brushing against each other's mouths. His face was still more or less expressionless, but his eyes held so much, more than she could ever decipher, the most prominent of his emotions determination, something akin to anger, and something else… something Faye didn't want to identify.

"If I were going to hurt you, I would have done it by now." His tone was low, husky, slightly rough, and she hoped it was because he was angry with her. "I want to help because I want to. Isn't that enough? I don't need ulterior motives to do something."

Faye lowered her head a little in resignation, eyes falling away from his penetrating gaze. Her breath caught in her throat and eyes widened a bit as his hand was no longer a stern shackle on her right wrist, vise-like grip melting away as he slid a roughened palm and long, slender fingers up her skin, fitting to her own hand, fingers interlacing. His other hand allowed her arm to drop back to her side, freed fingers clasping gently and firmly onto her chin, drawing her face up and closer to his once more.

Faye's eyes showed white all around, immediately flying up and locking to his steady blue gaze. What—what was he…?

…I know I don't know you

But I want you so bad

Everyone has a secret

Oh, can they keep it?

Oh no, they can't…[3]

Heartbeat quickening, racing thoughts slowing to an inarticulate crawl, she could nothing but stand there and stare as those clear, beautiful eyes drew closer and closer… her own eyes fluttered closed as she felt the warmth of his nearness, each soft exhalation playing over her mouth. He seemed to hover there for an eternity, not touching her, and Faye felt indecision and confusion swelling in her breast, warring with the unexpected warmth pooling low in her stomach.

"I don't want to hurt you, Fairy… but that doesn't mean I don't want something from you…" His lips brushed hers in ghost touches with every word he spoke, sending minute tremors down Faye's spine and stealing away her breath. He was silent for a moment again, then, just as she was sure was going to kiss her… he stepped back.

The cool, temperature-controlled air of Avalon slammed against Faye at the absence of his body's heat, and she felt an answering warmth growing in her cheeks as he stepped further back and regarded her with that infernal, cocky casual, one-sided smirk, thumbs hooked in back pockets and eyes laughing, though darkened with… no denying it now, Faye… desire.

And Faye wasn't so sure how she felt about that.

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"So, we'll meet tomorrow?"

"Yeah, at the Adonis Bistro on Valhalla. Open-air table. We can discuss what to do about your friendly neighborhood stalkers then."

"Alright…" Her reply was reluctant as she stood under the streetlamp, body half-turned in the direction of her apartment. He turned in kind, ready to head back to his own keep. Her hand shot out of its own accord, snagging on his arm and returning those amused Prussian hues back to her face, fingers just as quickly leasing his sleeve as though she'd grasped a live coal. "Um… Since we're going to be working together, I should at least know your name."

He smiled genuinely, shoving a hand through his loosed, thick dark hair before offering it to her in a peculiarly formal greeting, extending a hand between them. "Raef Rosier, at your service. And you are?"

"Faye… Romani." Faye placed her own hand lightly in his proffered one, mouth curling into a coy smile as he lifted it and brought it to his lips. Oh no, she may be willing to let him help her… but in no way did she trust him. And the light dancing in his crystalline eyes told her that he could see this all too well.

His mouth lingering, he murmured against her skin, "The pleasure is mine… Faye."

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Finis (until next time)

*[1] Bright Lights – Matchbox 20

**[2] Sunglasses at Night – Corey Heart

***[3] Secret – Maroon 5

Author's note: Oh yeah… *winces and peeks out from behind her chair* I know, I know… *sighs* I owe you all one hell of an apology. *bows lowly* Gomen nasai, minna-san! This chapter, while being undeniably shorter than the others (and not a work I'm entirely too happy with, either), was also a really long time coming. It's been, what… *grimaces* Oh, only about a month or so since I updated last… Eheheh… heheh… heh. Er, yeah. Well, actually, I have good reasons. Not only have I been slammed with the most hellish case of writer's block yet in my experience (and I'm still trying to shake it), but there's been some… extenuating circumstances, to say the least. *snorts* Now, it's a true fact that most readers don't actually read the author's notes, but I offer my explanation anyways. My life's been stretched thin and beaten with a staff in the passing days since my last update, and it's currently being turned inside out and upside down. You could say that I've rather lost track of myself amidst the chaotic confusion of it all. So, I ask you all to please bear with me on this, and I absolutely refuse to give up on this. No way. This is the first fic for which I've received such credit and wonderful praise, and I owe it all to you. Now… I wonder just how many of you will actually still be reading this once I post it in the morning, but down at the very end, there will be Reviewer Responses. I felt that I owed it to those of you who were so kind as to respond to me. : ) Now, I know this chapter seems hardly more significant than to be filler, and though some of it actually is, there're actually quite a few major turning points in this piece that won't be completely brought to light until a later date. *grins* I promise though, that things are going to start getting exciting soon.

Sooo… XD Alright, so what do you think of him!? And for those of you who read this and watch for the allusions (Aniiston, I love you SO MUCH!!), maybe you should check into that last name of our dear Mystery Man! I know it may seem that things with him and Faye are moving quickly, but that's sort of the point. Raef-kun was never one to take things slowly. *smirks* And as for that seemingly pointless interlude with the (insubstantial, unimportant) character, Marcus… *slaps her hands on the desktop to wake the readers up* PAY ATTENTION!!!

And with that, on to a note from our lovely, talented, and ever-so-insane beta-babe!! (and as soon as you choke down her sour grapes, you can get to the real sweetness! REVIEW RESPONSES! ;p)

B.R.N.: Lights! Camera! Action! *slides on stage with a billowing purple cape* Welcome to the show of ME. Now, if you think this fic is all about Cowboy Bebop and… stuff. YOU'RE WRONG! It's ALL about ME! *adapts a high-pitched chibified voice* Me mememememememememe ME! In today's episode, we will discuss… *looks around in bewilderment* *removes the pucker from her lips* What?! ME? A sour grape?! NO! What the hell are you talking about? Alright people, think… Cotton Candy. I think that rather suits me nicely. And as for Raef, I just love that little egocentric, luckless (seeing how he gets stuck with Faye and all) bastard. Oh and yes, I DARE every single fucking one of you to look up his last name! NOW! AND I MEAN IT! You will get a BIG laugh out of it. Trust me. (And no, I am NOT obsessed!) Now that Spike is out of the picture (for now, I really don't know what's gonna happen), I quite like this Raef-Faye – almost – pairing. Well, the chemistry between them, to say the least, is both engaging and seductive. *brandishes around a floppy dildo* And no, I am not a nympho. *sticks her tongue out at them all* I'm just… observant. And again, I don't practice voyeurism in ANY way. ((Suuuure she doesn't… XD))

((And to make it up to you poor, poor readers for having to read such a short and inept chapter, we bring to you, for your reading torture-ah, I mean pleasure!, a Nyxie-Kayren coalition piece… Insanity Fair))

*Kay leaves the stage only to come back in costume* Hi, my name is Fruit E. Batt and I have a problem…

*Jet flounces in dressed as Peter Pan – tights and all – and puts his hands on his hips* Jet: I'm going to teach you how to fly.

Kay: I already know how to fly, numbskull.

Jet: Oh. Well. Then. Um… would you like to share a bit of Tinkerbell's dust with me then?

Nyxie: Yo, Kay--*stumbles back in wide-eyed, abject horror* What the fucking holy hell have I stumbled in on?!

*Tinkerbell flies in and waves her magic wand above Nyxie's head, thus turning her into Misty clad in an icing-pink, ankle-length dress*

*Kay busts out laughing, pointing to the horrid pink anomaly*

Nyxie: *twitch, twitch* Oh… Jesus… Tapdancing… CHRIST!!! *rips the dress to shreds, revealing a black leather dominatrix suit* NyAAAAAAhahahahahahahahahaaaa!! *grins maliciously, eyes shining with insane glee* And now ye shall learn why I am called Nyxie HELL!!! *points wickedly-pointed wand at Kay* NYAH!!! *POOF* NOW who's laughing, eh?!? *there stands Kay, looking for all the world as though nothing has changed* Heheheh… Now our poor Gren is not alone!!! *cackles* Do your pants feel heavier, dear?!!?

*Kay still doesn't notice anything just yet, her mind still occupied with another, more disturbing thought* Wow… I didn't know Misty was so… kinky… *looks down* Oh my… whatever could THAT be? *pulls the band of her pants away from her* Oh MY. Well… at least I'm… well endowed.

Nyxie: O.o; Just like a psycho to ENJOY that… *shudders* Ugh, here comes my cookies… *reverts back to her normal self* If I didn't hate Misty before, your… *ahem* "reaction" certainly sealed the deal… *blanches* I need a shower… I feel dirty…

*Jet skips in again, this time in a Girl Scout uniform* Did somebody say cookies?

Nyxie: O.O;; HOLY HELL!! *scrabbles at the manacle on her wrist, locating the correct chain and jerking it*

*Stumbling in, shackled around the neck by a large chain-leash, Vicious* SIC ER, BOY!!

Vicious: *glares coldly at our poor author* You will die by my sword.

Nyxie: *GASPS* VISHIE-KUN!! HENTAI!!

Kay: *GASP… thinking of one very naughty Byron poem*

Vicious: *blatantly unamused* … I don't get it…

*Jet skips up and pats him on the back* That's okay, Mommy and Vishie-kun will have "the talk" later… when you're old…er… eh… *eyes Vicious' white hair* Man, how old are you?

*Kay claps her hands and grabs a mic* Umm… that's all folks.

Nyxie: *dragging a glaring Vicious away by the ear and shoving a bar of soap down his throat* Yeah, GO HOME!!

((And now… we offer huge apologies for that literary blasphemy and pray that your vision returns by morning. *grins* It was fun though. Let us know if you'd like us to feature such endearing (emotionally scarring), comedic (licentious) pieces in further chapters. ^-^ Ja ne! (woe betide ye who read that which be inspired of boredom..) ))

REVIEW RESPONSES:

Jaid Skywalker: Aww, thanks for the kind words. : D They make me feel special!! *bows head* Gomen ne, I'm sorry this is so late in coming!! I'll try to be faster with chapter four, honest!!

Bloody Love: *grins* Liking the penname, hon. Sooo many nice ways to take that. ^-^ Thank you for your encouraging words, and here's your update (shh, ignore the date, pretend it came out WEEKS ago!!)

RinoaOHeartilly: *does her impression of a ripe tomato* You're too kind! ^_^ I'm so glad you like the details; details are one of my favorite parts of writing! I really enjoy trying to flesh out the scenes and set them up vividly enough to paint a picture in the reader's mind, clear enough to set them to the right canvas, but loose enough so that readers can paint with their own brush. Lol, I know, I know, a rebellious voice in my head wanted me to make it Spike too, if only for the love of that Chia-headed cowboy. ;p But alas, 'twas not to be. *grins malevolently* And as for whether or not I'll be keeping Spike dead… you'll just have to read and find out for yourself, now won't you? *bats her eyelashes innocently*

Nurse Rebecca: Ah, another of my favorite reviewers! You and Rinoa-chan have both been so kind in reviewing not only this story, but my silly little oneshots as well. As for the previous chapter, I'm so glad you liked it!! And thank you so much for your specific opinion on the action; I sorely needed feedback on that, and the number of responses pertaining to that little blip were a little disappointing. : ) I'm glad I managed to pull off the effect well enough, though the edges could still use some smoothing out, I'm sure. And yes, Raef-kun is a little bishie, but don't tell him that! He's got a swollen enough head as it is! *snorts* And about him and Faye, it's pretty obvious by now, I think, that he at least is attracted to her. XD As for how Faye acts in return, well… maybe if people review with suggestions… heheheh…

ShinyFairyLights: Ah, konnichiwa, and arigatou for the praise! Such sweet words are music to my ears. ^-^ And you, too, liked the action and commented on it! *bows* Domo arigatou! I am glad it got you into it and that I didn't screw up. ^^ As for updating… *looks sheepish, then sports a cheeky grin* If you look at it this way, according to yesterday, today is tomorrow, so… I'M IN THE CLEAR!! *does a victory dance*

Aniiston: You, my friend, humble and give me great honor with your kind, indulgent words. *grins* And yeah, G rated our fan-shipping asses!! FF.NET NO BAKA!!! Lol… yeah, I tried to change that about three or four times, and it finally went through after you pointed out to me that they had failed to comply to my demands once again. No way in HELL is this for 'general audiences' of any sort!! And to you, I must give special credit! You, my dear, have been the only reader of this fic to catch any of the allusions so carefully and meticulously woven into the plot, aside from my beta reader, who is just as obsessed with allusions as I am. : D There're a couple more of 'em in here for ya, if you can find them I'll give you a cookie!!

And for the compliments of my characterization of Faye, I thank you immeasurably. I was worried I had not conveyed what I had wanted to, but it seems I hit the spot I wanted to after all. ^-^ And thank you also, for what you said about guitar-boy there. Usually, original characters are poorly received and tend to be ghastly overrated. I feared people would think him too over the top, but I guess not. ^.~ If you'll notice, does he seem familiar to you? I've sort of mixed in a few traits from pre-existing Bebop characters and skewed and manipulated and twisted until I was satisfied with his character. ^^ Lemme tell ya, this guy is something else. Recently, he's been playing the Muse in the back of my head, and I'm thiiiiiis close to castrating the turd if he doesn't get more forthcoming with the inspiration! YES!! Blame it all on the Muse!! Bad Raef, bad!! Lol ;p

And thanks for those compliments on the piece with Julia. The woman *cough*syndicatewhore*cough*bitch*cough* is not inherently one of my favorite people, but ya know, personal opinions were grievously sacrificed in the making of this fic for sake of realism. I had to play nice, or else I'd have the Julia shippers breathing down my neck. ;p And thank you, I tried very hard to capture the essence of Julia, even though there wasn't much to go on throughout the series; she seemed more of the intangible ideal of tragic hero's suffering rather than a substantial fixation, if ya ask me. *shrugs* But ah well, c'est la vie. You should read my oneshot, A Bloody Fairytale; that's probably one you'd appreciate, and it's one I am particularly proud of. I was able to reach a deeper level of meaning and thought with that three-pager than I am able to in most multi-chapter fics. : ) It's sort of my pet project, if you will.

Oh!! OH!!!! Everyone listen up!! *a bright spotlight snaps on, fixing on Aniiston* This kind, wonderful soul has so deigned to feature this shit-ette fic on his developing website, Evanasia. When he lets me know that the site is completed, I'll let all of you know so you can check out his specially designated site for *good* fanfiction! : D Everybody support Aniiston! He's so nice to me!!

Brigidforest: Aww, thanks darlin! I'm glad you liked it, and here's another chappie!! OH!! (SHAMELESS PLUG) Everyone should check out Brigid-chan's fic, Breaking Point. It may be a little slow developing (I have NO room to talk), but it's intriguing and altogether very interesting. I really want to see how it develops and OO!! She updates WAY faster than I do, so YEAH! Check her out!!