Disclaimer: I still own no part of CB, but you all knew that already!
Sorry this took me forever to write. Forgiveness Please!
Nothing Good Comes from Earth
Chapter 12: It Was a Dark and Stormy Night
Faye stood there, the Glock hanging limp at her side. The sky was still crying relentless cold tears as she yelled at his retreating form.
"That's right, Spike! Go on, get yourself killed! See if I care!" She choked on the last part.
She sank to the ground, knees digging in mushy earth, her gun resting on one leather clad thigh. Wide eyed, she stared through black strands at the wall of trees, willing him to return. Come back; her lips formed the words, but no sound came forth. Faye knew she was being an idiot. She yelled for him to go, but pleaded silently for him to stay. She didn't even know which she wanted anymore. Neither, both, in the end it was all the same. A slight shudder shook her body. It was a good thing she was already on the ground or she would have collapsed.
He had hurt her. That was all she had been able to concentrate on. His excuse, or whatever it was he had said, had completely gone by her. She had been too intent on her own anger. All she remembered was the hate in his eyes, burning cold and hot at the same time as she accused him of using her; the fury in his voice as he screamed and shook her, digging his fingers into her arms.
Unconsciously, Faye rubbed her gun arm with her free hand, unwilling to release the cold slick metal from her grasp. She had been afraid of what'd he'd do after the incident with Ed and his ship, but not like the fear she had felt just then. Hate mixed with the desire to kill had warped his normally carefree features into the visage of a bloodthirsty angel. The only thing that had ever scared her more than that look on his face was Vicious.
Finally, she stood, brushing away the wet grass plastered to her knees. She put her hands in her pockets, gun and all, and turned her back on the grove Spike had disappeared through. She started up the cobblestone path back to her ship. Enough time had been wasted. If she wanted to kill Vicious, she'd have to do it before Spike found him.
Faye shivered as a gust of wind blew down her neck and sent wet threads of hair into her mouth. Blood pounded in her ears with every step she took. Her head was throbbing from him shaking her so badly. She knew she'd have a sore neck by morning. What a liar, she thought sourly.
"I would never hurt you, you know." He had said those words just last night. He had sounded so sincere. Why had she believed him? He had hurt her before, her feelings anyway, and they both knew it. But he had never touched her in anger like he had tonight. For being old enough to be his grandma, you sure are naïve sometimes, Faye Valentine, she scolded herself.
The need for a cigarette finally convinced her to let go of the Glock. She left it in her pocket and pulled out a cigarette instead. Now where was that lighter? Faye dug into her pockets once more, the dead cigarette hanging from her lips. She pushed passed her gun and a couple grenades before she found her prize. Shielding the cigarette with her empty hand, she pressed the button and was rewarded with a small yellow flame.
"Come on, light damn it!" she muttered as she tried to torch the drenched paper and tobacco.
After a few more futile attempts, she angrily tossed the soggy stick to the ground and reached into her pocket for a fresh one. Faye pulled her coat open on one side, raising her arm while still holding the edge. She ducked under her makeshift umbrella and lit her second cigarette. A cloud of smoke filled the small space as she exhaled through her nostrils.
"Mmmm, much better," she sighed, bent under the shield provided by her coat. She was intent on staying there until she was done smoking. Will this rain ever let up, she wondered moodily.
Just then something hard poked into her back and stayed there.
"If you don't want to get hurt, then I suggest you come quietly, Miss Valentine," a deep voice commanded.
"Shit!" she swore under her breath. She dropped her coat, and slowly turned to face her captor. He was a tall blonde man with the features of a sewer rat: long, drawn face and a sharp nose over too-thin lips.
"Hands up," he demanded, his machine pistol now a foot away from her head.
She complied with a sigh. Her cigarette still hung from her lips. Slowly she moved a hand toward her mouth.
"Hands back up where they were!"
"All right, jeez, can't I get this cigarette out of my mouth at least?" she pouted.
He took a step closer to her, the barrel coming within an inch of her nose. She lowered her hand once again and removed the burning cigarette from her mouth, but kept it close to her face.
"So what is it you want with me," she asked, sizing up her opponents. Besides the man in front of her, there were five more behind him. Only six? Vicious didn't know her, did he?
"Lord Vicious has 'requested' your presence," he droned. Man, this guy was pathetic.
"Oh, is that all, why didn't you say so," she replied taking another drag. "Let's go, then. I don't have all night."
He coughed as she exhaled a puff of smoke into his face, all the distraction she needed. She clutched the butt between her thumb and forefinger, dodged the gun in her face, and ground the burning ember into his eye.
As the man screamed, clutching his injury, Faye grabbed the machine pistol from his hand and shot him in the gut and chest. Blood sprayed her front, droplets splashing onto her face like a warm rain. She pulled the body to her just as his subordinates open fired.
She could feel the impact of bullets burying themselves in the dead man as she returned fire blindly with the machine pistol. They had yet to hit her, but with the awkward weight of her body shield, she hadn't done any noticeable damage to them, either. She pulled a grenade from her pocket, yanked the pin with her teeth, and lobbed it over into the midst of her attackers.
The nearness of the explosion set her off balance. Her stolen gun went flying as she collapsed hard under the dead weight of her victim, slamming her head against the rocky ground.
Her skull cracked from the impact; she could feel the warm blood pooling under her head. She inhaled sharply, then sputtered and coughed. It was hard to breath. Get up! Get up! She screamed at herself. If anyone was left, she didn't want to be caught on her back pinned under a corpse.
Faye grunted, pushing his body off her so she could breath. She rolled onto her stomach, and immediately pulled the Glock from her pocket. A wave of nausea passed over her as she looked around trying to focus on the flames and anguished screams in front of her. She blinked, willing her vision to cooperate.
Two of the men were writhing on the ground in agony as they tried to put out their burning suits. Two more were very obviously dead with half their faces and various appendages blown all over the wet path.
But that's only four, she thought. Where was the other one?
Tucking her legs under her chest, Faye pushed herself up into a crouch. She reached inside her trenchcoat, then remembered she'd left the other holster with the Uzis in the Redtail.
"Shit!" She hadn't thought she'd need them so soon. Her ship wasn't that far away. The other man hadn't shown himself yet, so maybe he'd gotten hit and just run off. She still had one grenade and a full clip, more than enough to take out one man.
Ignoring the pain in her head, Faye jumped up and took off running down the slick cobblestones. She skirted the four men lying in her way, and rounded the corner. Suddenly, a shadow jumped out of the trees and tackled her to the ground. He was sprawled on top of her, trying to get control of the gun in her right hand stretched above her head; she tried to knee him in the stomach, but was pinned too tightly beneath him. His breath stank, eyes that of a wild animal. He wrapped one hand around her throat and squeezed as she desperately clawed his face. His free hand was busy trying to wrench the gun from her.
Running out of air, and not knowing what else to do, she pulled the trigger. He screamed, a feral sound ripped from his throat, as his fingers exploded. The grip on her neck slackened for an instant. Faye leaned up and crushed his larynx between her teeth, holding on like a pit bull while he thrashed his head wildly.
His uninjured hand tore at her hair, trying to rip her off of him. She brought the gun up and pressed the barrel under his jaw an instant before she released his throat, and pulled the trigger. His exploding face showered her in gore as he fell over with a wet thud onto the ground.
Faye wiped the blood from her eyes and scrambled to her feet. She stood over the dead body. The animal instinct that had taken over subsided. That was the last one, she thought as relief washed over her. She turned her face skyward, letting the cold rain wash the man's blood away. It felt good to be alive.
Too late, she realized someone was behind her. She spun around ready to put a bullet into whoever had snuck up on her. She stopped short at the sight of at least 20 armed syndicate men closing around her.
Fuck! Can my day get any worse! She thought reaching into her pocket. One grenade wasn't going to get them all, but it might give her enough of an opening to escape.
Her lips curved into a wicked smile as she pulled the explosive out of her pocket.
"I'd love to dance boys, but this girl's all partied out," Faye laughed as she pulled the pin and threw it where they were the thickest.
She turned tail and ran towards her ship, shooting anyone who came after her. She rounded another corner, still being pursued, and she was almost out of bullets. There it was, glistening in the rain under the park lights. The Redtail. Salvation. Just a few more yards…
A bullet whizzed by her ear. She turned and shot still running, but missed him. She aimed one more time. She had a good shot, she could get him. She pulled the trigger and was greeted by a metallic click. Empty.
He was almost on top of her now. With a burst of speed fueled by sheer terror, she bolted across the grass. He dove onto her back and they skidded along the soggy ground. She was crawling, trying desperately to get away. He pulled her back toward him and pistol whipped her. Faye collapsed face down in the mud only ten feet away from her ship.
Vicious stared down at the bedraggled figure laid out on the couch in his office. She was covered in blood, most of it from his thugs. How could such a pathetic creature take out 18 of my best men? He wondered, almost a bit shaken. He hadn't expected her to be that good. Spike wasn't known for picking strong women. Julia had been weak; had needed protection. Faye had proven she was the exact opposite.
He frowned as he thought of the blonde woman who had betrayed him. He had loved her, more than he thought he could love anything. She was so soft, so pure. And she had belonged to him. Or at least he thought she had, until the day he found her in bed with his best friend.
It was a rainy afternoon, and he had returned early from his latest mission. He wanted nothing more than to sink into her, to remember he was more than a syndicate assassin with a core of steel. Only she had been able to awaken the beating heart of a man in him. Only she could make him feel warmth.
He had climbed the stairs to her apartment and let himself in. It was quiet. She was probably out. She wasn't expecting him, he knew. He smiled, something he only did around her, and walked to the bedroom to sleep while he waited for her to return.
Then he saw them, lying asleep, entangled in her creamy sheets and each other's arms. His blood ran cold, and a fury greater than any he had felt before or since welled up inside him. It was all a lie. Everything. Just four nights ago she had whispered 'I love you' into his ear as they made love. And he had responded in turn. Only he had meant it.
He glared at them, wanting to kill them both right there. He could almost see their blood mingling into a broad red stain on the pale sheets. He raised his dagger, ready to do it. Then decided against it. He wouldn't let them die together. This wasn't Romeo and Juliet, and he sure as hell wasn't Shakespeare. He plunged the knife into the headboard above them, and left.
Faye stirred on the leather sofa, a soft moan escaping her lips. He couldn't blame Spike for wanting her; even in her current condition she was quite tasty. Funny how we always want the same woman, Spike, he thought. Only this time Spike would be the one who lost, not him. Granted, he would never love her—he could never do that after Julia—but Spike wouldn't get to have her either. After he killed Spike he would keep her until she was no longer amusing. And if Spike killed him instead, he would leave orders to have her executed on the spot. Either way, he won.
He looked over Faye, his eyes lingering on her luscious curves under her soaked red tank top. He licked his lips, his groin tingling. It was a pity to have to wait, but his victory would be all that much sweeter for it. Right now he had to send Spike a message.
That's it for now. Please remember to R&R! Thanks!