Sorry it took so long to get this up.

Disclaimer:  I do not own CB.

Chapter6:  Drowning in Confusion

"JEEEEEEETTTTTTTT!  WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO MY SHIP?" Spike screamed loud enough for everyone to hear him from the hanger bay.  He stormed wild-eyed into the galley, then to the common room looking for him.  He knew Jet was around there somewhere.  Someone had sabotaged the Swordfish, and he had a pretty good idea who was behind it. 

"Faye," he growled, stomping in the general direction of her room.  First she had withheld important information; that he could understand, even forgive, given the circumstances.  Then she had asked, no, demanded that he leave Vicious alone.  Fine.  He could deal with her voicing her opinion.  But this was way out of line!  Nobody touched his ship without his permission!  And that, that woman had the audacity to… he clenched his fists and punched the wall, leaving a small dent in the dull metal.  She had lied to him in the past.  She had stolen from him.  She had been an annoying little pest.  And he had forgiven her all that.  Well, he thought smoking furiously, not this time.  That ship was like a piece of him!  And she had screwed it up!

"Faye!" he yelled, pounding on her door.  "Open up right now!"  He waited, smoke pouring from his flared nostrils.  He was getting impatient.

"Come one, Faye!  Open the fucking door right now, or I swear to God, I'll break the damn thing down!"

That was it.  He had waited long enough.  He was going to kick it, but decided to try the handle first.  It was unlocked.  He flung the door wide open, expecting Faye, but instead there was Edward sitting on Faye's bed.  Goggles in place, she sat clacking away on the keyboard, oblivious to the raging Spike.

"Ed."

She ignored him.

"ED!"

Ed was obviously very annoyed.  "Ed is very busy now.  Try again later."

He didn't have time for this.  He grabbed the green goggles off her head.  "Ed," he said pointedly.

She leapt off the bed screeching.  "Hey!  Give those back to Ed!  Ed was trying to work!"

Spike held them high above her head, slightly amused at her jumping frantically.

"You'll get them back when you tell me what I want to know."

"Fine," Ed surrendered, her amber eyes glaring at him through tapered slits.  "What does Spike-person want."

"Where's Faye?"  He asked, swinging the goggles on the tip of his finger.

"Ed doesn't know."

"Well then why are you in her room?"

"Faye-Faye invited Edward!"  she laughed, forgetting she was angry for the moment.

"Now, that's funny Ed.  I thought Faye didn't like you in her room."  Spike knew there was something fishy going on.

"Oh, Faye-Faye and Edward are friends now," Ed smiled, twirling on one foot.

"And just how did that happen," Spike asked, even though he had a pretty good idea already.

"Faye-Faye and Ed have a secret!" she sang, then clasped a tanned hand over her mouth and giggled.  "Oooops.  Ed wasn't supposed to tell."

A secret, Spike thought. Hmmm.  He grabbed the Tomato off the bed and held it up with the goggles.

"Noooooooo!  Not Ed's Tomato!  Give it back, give it back!" she cried in dismay as she tugged his pant leg frantically.

"Not until you tell me what this secret is," Spike said smiling.  Now I've got her.

"Faye-Faye-asked-Ed-to-break-Spikey-Spike's-ship-so-he-wouldn't-leave-us-and-die!" She ran the sentence together like it was one word. 

Spike tried not to care about what that had meant.  Faye and Ed…worried about him?  His thoughts were interrupted by a stinging bite to his ankle.

"Ow!  Damn it, Ed.  You're not the frickin' dog!" Spike hissed, rubbing his sore leg. 

She bared her teeth and growled "Give Edward her Tomato!"

"You, know Ed, I really hate kids," he growled back, his eyes narrowing. 

She was jumping up and down in front of him, hands wildly outstretched towards her precious computer and goggles.  He sighed and handed them to her.  He'd gotten what he wanted.

Faye.  That sneaky bitch had enlisted Ed to keep him on the ship.  Did she really think he was that stupid?  I need a drink, he thought, intending to get off the Bebop for a while.  It was just too damn crazy right then.  Shit!  I can't leave!  Spike's rage simmered back to a boil just thinking of his crippled ship.  Oh, she's gonna pay for this one, he thought angrily, walking out the door with every intention of finding her. No.  If I see her now, I swear I'll kill her.  He paused, and looked back at Ed cradling her laptop like an infant. 

"One more thing, Ed.  Fix my ship.  Now.  If I can't fly out of here in 30 minutes, I will kill your Tomato," he said, not a shred of humor in his voice.

Half an hour later Spike was flying towards the nearest rock with a bar.  Tijuana was always a good place to get a whole lot of liquor for not a lot of cash.

Two hours later Spike found himself sitting in one of the worst hole-in-the-wall bars he had ever seen.  He had left in hopes of lifting his spirits.  Now, with several stiff drinks in him, he was a whole lot calmer, but definitely not happier. He understood why she had messed up the Swordfish.  She wouldn't have done anything that drastic if she didn't care about him a little bit.  Or maybe she just wanted to get revenge herself.  He was still pissed, but now he probably wouldn't kill her.

What was this place called, again? he asked himself, not that it mattered.  The lights were low, mostly due to the fact that at least half of them didn't work. It was just as well.  More light certainly wouldn't have made the décor look any better.  The floor was sticky, and full ashtrays littered every table.  All of the furniture was distressed-from the grey stuffing spilling out of holes torn in the vinyl booths, to the worn places and water marks left by countless drinks scraping along the table-tops.  The place reeked of stale alcohol and unwashed bodies, but that was due mostly to the patrons.  It looked as though most of them hardly left the place.  Old men rotting on the same chairs they had first sat on decades earlier.  The stool he had chosen was rocking unsteadily under him. It had definitely seen better days-just how long ago those days were he didn't care to guess.  All this stuff has got to be as old as Faye, he mused.  There.  It had happened again.  He couldn't go for half a minute without thinking about her.  When. Exactly had she taken Julia's place in his thoughts?  He couldn't really pinpoint a time.  It hadn't been an earth-shattering event.  It hadn't even happened all that quickly. 

Three years ago Julia had been his entire existence, his reason for being.  Her choosing not to escape the Red Dragons with him had been a blow, not only to his heart, but his ego.  She had been the one beautiful thing in his life that was not full of violence and bloodshed.  And she had abandoned him.  Him. Spike Spiegel.  The syndicate's darling. When things had gotten too difficult she had left him on his own.  She was a beautiful angel brought on the wings of a dream, passing in and out of his life so quickly; sometimes he wondered if she had ever really been there.  If she had been a normal woman and not some ethereal being, he could have forgotten her in a matter of months.  It had taken him nearly three years to realize that it had been the idea of beauty and domestic bliss that she had embodied that he had been in love with for so long, not her.  Not the woman who left him when life got tough.  A home, a family, no running-that was the unattainable dream that seemed so wonderful next to his blood-soaked reality.  But a dream, no matter how wonderful, couldn't help a man in the harsh light of day, no matter how badly he wished it.

It had been just him and Jet for years, working together like well-oiled cogs in a machine.  Hunting bounties, collecting money, spending money, being friends-all of it had been great.  And then came Faye.  The first time he saw her, cheating at the casino, he had found her attractive.  And then she had opened that damn mouth.  Just how she had wedged herself into their crew still perplexed him.  Neither of them liked her-but Jet, for all his brutish demeanor, had a soft spot for hard-luck cases.  And Spike was just chauvinistic enough to not argue too much when that hard-luck case was a woman.  Even when that woman lied, cheated, and stole from those she called her "comrades". 

So why the hell did he like her so much?  He stared moodily at his empty glass of…well, whatever it was.  It looked and tasted like cat piss, but it was getting the job done.  He motioned for the bartender and pointed at his glass.  The man simply nodded and refilled it, but this time left the bottle. 

He had to admit she had gotten better about most of those things.  But her mouth still never stopped.  Probably never would.  Most of the time she went out of her way to be a bitch: being messy, making snide remarks, wasting money, generally annoying the hell out of everyone.  But then there were those times when she thought no one was watching, and for the briefest moment would let her shield drop.  He had seen glimpses of that scared girl inside her who had no family and no past.  Her life began when she was 20, over 50 years later than it should have.  It was funny thinking she was old enough to be his grandmother.  She only acted the way she did to protect herself, to prove she was strong enough.  It was admirable.  Faye was a survivor.  Just like him.  That was why he put up with her. That and she was pretty hot.  We're just two lost souls drifting in space, he thought miserably.  You could have had her, but you had to be an asshole, Spike.  He raised his glass in a mock toast to himself.  But that's just part of your charm, he thought as he poured the rest of his drink down his throat in one hot, burning gulp. 

"Hey there, sugah," a high pitched female voice purred into his ear.  Spike looked up from his empty glass, trying hard to focus. 

"Damn, I'm drunk," he said, a bit louder than he'd intended.

"You're soooo cute!" the bubbly blonde giggled, placing her hand on his thigh. She was as trashy as the bar they were in.  Big, teased bleached hair hung to her shoulders.  Sky blue eyes covered under massive amounts of equally blue eye shadow winked at him in what he supposed she had meant to be a sexy, inviting look; she opened her mouth slightly, licking frosted fuchsia lips.  She was absolutely hideous. 

She bent over, breasts spilling out of a bright orange and pink halter top.  "Ya want some company?" she whispered into his ear. "I'll show ya a real good time, cowboy."  Her breasts were right in front of his nose. 

Spike looked down, focusing on a pair of over-tanned legs pouring out of tight denim cutoffs that hid next to nothing.  This is so not what I need right now, Spike thought in disgust.  He grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him.

"I'm only going to say this once.  Leave.  Me.  Alone." He stared at her, not even a hint of a smile on his face.

"Oh, ya don't mean that, now do ya," she pressed, bouncing a little to get her breasts to jiggle.

"Listen, lady.  I'm not interested in trashy, two-bit sluts.  I may not have gotten any in a while, but I will NEVER be that desperate.  Now go away!" 

She stood up and slapped him sharply.  His head swung as if his neck was made of rubber.

"I AM NOT A WHORE, YOU DRUNK BASTARD!" she screamed.  She was making a huge scene.

"Hey, miss.  Is the loser insultin' ya?" a burly voice slurred somewhere behind Spike.

"Shit!" Spike muttered, standing slowly. "This is really not what I needed tonight."

He turned around and looked at her champion.  He was short, and wide.  His brown hair was dirty and plastered to his forehead by beads of sweat that were slowly rolling down into his unkempt beard. Tanned wrinkled skin hung from his neck.  The man had to be at least 50.

"You don't want to fight me, old man.  Trust me," Spike said dismissively.

"Oh, an' why is that, ya no-good punk?" the man sneered, taking a step forward, rolling up one dirty white sleeve. "Ya 'fraid o' me, boy?  Scairt I'm gonna clean yer clock?"  He was still approaching Spike.

"You really are a cocky old bastard, aren't you?" Spike said shaking his head.  Why did people always make him kick their asses?

"I'll show ya cocky, ya little runt!"

Spike shrugged his shoulders, lit up a cigarette, and leaned back against the bar.  It was very evident to the growing crowd that he was anything but scared.  Spike's passiveness had the desired effect.  The old drunk growled angrily and came running at him like a bull, his head lowered.  Spike just stood there looking bored.  An instant before he would have been crushed between the man and the bar, Spike stepped aside.  He grabbed a fistful of dirty brown hair and slammed the guys face into the counter, blood spurting from his broken nose.  Spike pulled the man's head up, then slammed it down again onto the blood-slicked surface.  The crunch of teeth and bone cracking was followed by a hollow thump as the man slid to the floor unconscious.

"Still wanna fight?" Spike asked the body crumpled at his feet, taking a drag off his half-gone cigarette.  He threw a few woolongs into the pool of blood dripping off the bar, put his coat on, and walked out whistling.

***

Faye winced.  Spike had been yelling since he discovered the condition his ship was in.  Shit!  He's going to kill me, she thought biting her lip.  She had run to the bathroom the minute she had heard him screaming for Jet.  He knew someone had sabotaged the Swordfish; and from the sound of him pounding on the door of her room, he had already guessed who was responsible.  And poor Ed was in there to take the brunt of his anger.  He won't hurt her, Faye told herself, she's just a kid.  It's me he's going to throttle.  I am so stupid sometimes!  She could here Ed screeching at him and him yelling at her.  Then he had left Ed to herself.  Oh, crap, he's coming to find me.  That little brat squealed! Faye pounded her fist into her forehead.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid Faye," she muttered.  He was going to be banging on the bathroom door any second, she just knew it.  She sat there, knees hugging her chest as she stared expectantly at the door, waiting.  She sat there until she heard the unmistakable sound of the Swordfish taking off.  She heaved a sigh of relief, her muscles still tense.  He hadn't come after her…yet.

She slowly opened the door and peaked out, hoping she hadn't imagined the sound of Spike leaving.  When nothing jumped out at her she shuffled into the hallway and headed straight for her quarters.

"Faye-" a deep voice rumbled behind her.

She jumped involuntarily at the sound of Jet's voice.  How had he snuck up on her?

"Yeah?" she gulped, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Why'd you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Mess with Spike's ship."

"What are you-"

"I'm not stupid Faye so you might as will give up the act now.  I know it was you that put Ed up to that little stunt."

"Fine!  I did it, Jet!  All right!  I admit it!  I just…" her voice faltered.  She swallowed the lump forming in her throat.  I am not going to cry.  Don't cry, Faye.  Keep it together, she coached herself.  She could feel the tears threatening to escape any moment.

"I know, Faye.  I don't want him to die either.  But you can't keep a man from doing what he needs to do," Jet said softly, almost tenderly.  He placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder, remembering the last time he had touched her in the hospital.  Instead of pushing him away, she let his hand rest there.

"But why?  Why can't I stop him?" She shuddered under his hand, tears falling unbidden down her face.  Angrily she shook him away and turned to face him.  "Why are all of you men so damned stupid!" Faye practically screamed, her fingernails biting the flesh of her palms.

"Faye," Jet said gently.  "I know this is hard for you to accept, but you gotta let him go."

"Only a man would say something that ludicrous and be dense enough to actually believe it!  You don't give a flying fuck about anything except sex, money, and your personal vendettas with other pig-headed men!  All of you make me sick!" She was screaming now, wildfire flaring in her green eyes.  God, she hated men!  All of them!

"Calm down, Faye!" Jet commanded, to no avail.  She wasn't listening anymore.  He shook his head and walked down the hall.  His bonsai needed watering.

Even through the steel walls and door of his room full of tiny trees he could here her ranting.  I hope she doesn't break anything serious, he thought sadly as he sprayed his precious plants.  He didn't come out again until he was sure Faye had gone to her room.  He didn't know how to handle that kind of female.  Didn't really want to. 

***

Faye lay face down on the pillow, her breath coming in ragged gasps.  She had broken just about everything there had been to break in her room.  Everything was lying in pieces on the floor.  At the time shattering everything because she felt broken inside had made sense.  Now, all she could think of was the huge mess she had to clean up.  She patted the breast pocket of her long-sleeved button up shirt, assuring herself that her cigarettes were still there.  She plucked one out and held it for a moment before placing it between her lips.  Her mouth was dry, but she lit it anyway.  She lay flat on her back, watching the smoke curl in lazy circles until it clung to the ceiling before being sucked into the ventilation.  She could feel the sticky tears dried on her face. She knew she looked like crap, but it just didn't matter at the moment.  Nothing did.  She was empty.  The only thing that filled her was the smoke in her lungs, but that too escaped. 

Faye lay watching the smoke, seeing things in it that only she could see.  When her entire pack was gone she still laid there, her eyes vacant.  She fell asleep that way, dreaming of Spike.

Chapter 7 coming soon! Please R&R.