"I can't believe we got our hands on one of those. A real ancient burial doll." Mary Anne breathed, gazing rapturously at the little object. (A/N: You know, ones like the Egyptians used to bury with their dead, to be their servants in the afterlife? At least, I think that was them…)
"Yeah, we were really lucky." Ainsley acknowledged.
"Luck nothing. It was skill." Brendan dismissed Ainsley's words with an arrogant wave of his hand.
"And luck." she insisted. "It was luck that those dumbass guards were inattentive long enough for us to gain the advantage."
Brendan merely snorted and went back to tweaking with the ship's defense systems. "And I suppose that my disabling the electronic defenses was luck too."
Mary Anne reached out a finger and tentatively stroked the doll.
"Mary Anne!" Ainsley barked.
The other woman jumped back, as though scalded.
"So what're we going to do with it?" Mary Anne asked, keeping her fond eyes on the artifact.
"Sell it, of course." Ainsley replied, looking at her friend as though she were crazy.
"I know… but let's be careful who we sell it to, okay? Let's not just go with whoever pays the most."
Ainsley's face acquired a tight expression and a tic started near one eyebrow. "That's exactly what we're going to do, go with the highest bidder. The whole point of all this is making money, you idiot."
Mary Anne gave her the Puppy Eyes.
"You know that doesn't work on me." Ainsley scoffed. "Besides, this thing is really valuable. Anyone willing to pay what it's worth isn't exactly going to be careless with it."
"I suppose." she said doubtfully.
"And Venus is full of high- class people. We won't have to worry about anything."
"There's always something to worry about." Brendan opined pessimistically.
Mary Anne blew him a raspberry.
*
"Okay, the deal's going down at midnight." Jet told them.
Faye started laughing.
He turned a forbidding face to her. "What."
"'The deal's- going down- at- midnight?'" she repeated, gasping. "My God, Jet, you sound like some cheap, cheesy TV cop show!"
"Well, he did used to be a cop." Spike pointed out fairly.
Faye merely laughed all the harder.
Edward draped herself around the top of Faye's chair and started giggling too, and Ein joined in with a series of enthusiastic barks.
Jet scowled with thorough displeasure and addressed himself only to Spike. "Anyway, they're going through with it at midnight. At a place on Venus- the Skyblue. Some sort of bookstore hangout for snobs."
Spike smiled grimly and stood.
"Hey, where are you going?" Jet asked, surprised.
Spike turned halfway through the door. (A/N: You know how he does- kinda looks over his shoulder, with one hand on the doorway and the other- um- in his pocket, I think, and one foot stepping out?) "Out."
Faye got up and followed him.
"Hey!" Jet protested again.
Faye gave him a dismissive look and ducked through the door.
Spike darted a glance over his shoulder at her. "Where're you going?" I sincerely hope you don't think you're coming with me.
He didn't have to worry. "None of your business." Faye coolly informed him, getting into the Redtail and waiting for him to take off first.
*
"Stella?" Spike asked, heading straight into the old ship.
"Spike!" she greeted, from somewhere behind him.
Spike turned. The first difference he noticed, unsurprisingly, was in her eyes; their blue was now vivid and clear, but more than that was the expression residing in them; there was a sadness lingering just beneath the surface.
He wordlessly presented her with the flowers he'd picked up on his way there.
She buried her nose in them. "Thank you, Spike. They're lovely."
"You can see them now?"
"Very well." she replied, starting up the stairs and gesturing for him to follow her.
Spike took a seat as she did the same in her rocking chair. "Something's happened to you, Spike."
He glanced up at her to find her watching him. "Has that 'something beautiful' disappeared?"
"No." she said immediately. "No… It's still there- stronger, in fact. It's just changed."
"How?"
She blinked thoughtfully. "You have a sort of- peace that you didn't have before. Something's been settled."
Spike would never know what it was that prompted him to begin talking to her, telling her things that he'd confided in no one but Electra. And even some things that he hadn't told her…
*
"Okay, here we go." Jet's voice ordered over their communication units. (A/N: Walkie- talkies just doesn't seem right. So I'll call them comm units.)
Faye and Jet took the back entrance, and Spike the front; they'd surrounded their bounty heads before they fully appreciated what was happening.
"Ainsley?" Jet asked.
One of the women gave him a malicious glance. "Yeah, what?"
A smile appeared on his face that didn't bode well for her. "Did you give Edward a ride back to my ship?"
"Listen, man, that crazy- ass kid hijacked our ship, we had no choice-" started a man.
"Allow me to show my appreciation." Jet said, aiming a gun at Ainsley's head. Spike was covering Brendan and Faye had Mary Anne, who was watching the proceedings with an expression of detached, mild interest.
The second man at the table ducked under it and ran, with a securely wrapped bundle tucked safely under his arm.
"Hey!" Faye yelled, scrambling after and sending bullets flying at his heels.
Ainsley shoved Jet aside and followed. Jet chased after her, and Spike looked from them to the perfectly still Mary Anne before handcuffing her and dragging her along with him as he joined the chase. For her part, Mary Anne jogged easily alongside Spike and seemed perfectly happy to be doing so.
The thief made it into the street, hunched his shoulders up around his neck, ducked, and bulldozed through the crowd.
Faye charged right after him, shoving people right and left, with Ainsley following her example.
Jet tried to push his way through, too, but by this time the bystanders were getting pissed. Jet ducked under two punches; Spike, with Mary Anne trotting after, jumped over the heads of other irate people with the aid of a foot in the middle of the punchers' backs and landed right behind Ainsley.
Cursing, Jet managed to throw three more men off and follow.
They continued in this way for another five minutes before Faye stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk and jerked her head so quickly from one side to the other that it was a wonder she didn't rip it right off. "Where'd he go? Dammit, where'd he go?!!!!!!"
"He'll be gone by now." Ainsley spat, struggling against Jet as he tied her arms together. "You lost him."
"It was your fault!" Faye retorted heatedly.
"How the hell is this my fault?"
While the two women continued to argue, Jet took Mary Anne from Spike. "Where'd the guy go?"
Spike shrugged. "He's probably gone too."
Jet cursed again. "It was double if we brought in all three of them!"
"Wait a second…" Spike muttered, scanning the crowd. The idiot's actually going to try to rescue them.
He wouldn't get the chance. Spike carefully worked his way behind the man, using the crowd as cover; a quick strike to the back of the neck brought him down without any trouble at all.
"There he is!" Faye and Ainsley chorused at the same time, looking skyward; a ship similar in design to the Redtail hastily took off.
Faye growled and made for her own craft.
"Faye, wait!" Jet called.
"Too late, she's gone." Spike told him cheerily. "It's her business if she doesn't want any of the reward."
"Of all the people that keep getting gone, it's never the ones I want to go." Ainsley lamented.
Jet hustled her to the Hammerhead along with Brendan, leaving only Mary Anne to Spike.
"This is a very nice ship." she complimented him, when they were seated in the Swordfish II.
"Thanks." Spike said, slightly surprised.
Mary Anne looked around with a great deal more interest than she'd shown in the Skyblue. "Customized very impressively."
"Erm." Spike vaguely replied.
*
"Why'd you gag her?" a startled Jet asked at the police station.
"She wouldn't shut up." Spike growled resentfully.
"Here's your share of the money. And Faye's, if you want it."
What might have been a smile flitted across Spike's face as he took the cards.
A/N: I'm not entirely happy with the way this turned out but it'll have to do. It's like I have partial writer's block or something, it's just not flowing like it used to… oh well. Cookies to: Jim Hawking Jr. and PimpinSatan.