Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop.

CH 1: I am Something of a Dreamer…

Faye woke with a start and bolted upright in bed. Her hands instinctively flew to her torso searching for the bullet wound. The smooth skin beneath her finger tips confused her. It was then she realized she was only wearing a camisole and underwear. The sheet covering her had been pushed aside when she had hastily sat up. She gazed around the unfamiliar surroundings in wonderment. Hardwood floors, no furniture besides the large bed, tall, dark walls…the sound of the ocean…

"Where am I?" she whispered to herself.

A soft snore beside her was her only response. She jumped, startled by the sound and turned to view the intruder. She beheld unruly dark brown hair with green highlights and the smooth, tan skin of a bare torso. His face was turned from her and buried in a pillow, but she knew exactly who it was.

"Spike," she said flatly.

She turned her emerald eyes to the wall behind the bed and gasped. It was all glass, and the vast, dark ocean churned beyond the numerous, glass panes. She saw a dim reflection of white and had the sudden urge to get a better look at the sea.

Quietly, Faye slipped from the bed and walked slowly along the glass wall until she eyed a balcony. The silk curtains gently caressed her porcelain white skin as she stepped outside. The warm breeze smelled familiar. She couldn't describe the smell, only that she had experienced it before. The reflection of white light distracted her. She followed its glow along the dark surface of the water and up into the sky. Her breath caught in her throat.

"The moon…" she whispered in awe. The glowing orb hung whole and complete in the sky. It was not a shroud of comets stuck in the earth's gravitational pull as she had recently come to know it.

The sound of slight movement behind her made her whirl around in a conditioned response. There stood Spike clothed only in boxers with a stolid expression on his face. Faye turned around and stared at the ocean.

"Where are we?" she asked in a barely audible tone.

"We're dead," stated Spike simply.

Faye nodded as if his response was perfectly acceptable. If this was what happened to you after you died, it couldn't be all that bad. She heard a spark and turned to see Spike lighting a cigarette. His eyes met hers and she silently asked for one. He obliged, tossing her the pack. When she had one in her mouth, he politely lit it for her.

"Thanks," she offered not bothering to ask him where he had gotten the cigarettes in the first place. In death, simple questions seemed meaningless.

As Spike stared at the moon, a cigarette hanging from his lips, he wondered why he wasn't with Julia. He had gone as far as to avenge her death with his own, so why couldn't they be together at last? The answer came from an unseen, ominous force. It whispered to his mind in the voice of a gentle female much like a goddess.

Your fate lies elsewhere, spoke the goddess. You have wronged those closest to you, all in the name of selfishness. You helped instigate a chain of death. The goddess paused as a crippling pain flared in Spike's chest. Do not be in pain. Your heart is good. That is why you will be given another chance…to rectify some of that which you have wronged. You and this woman shall live…

"No…" whispered Spike as the cigarette fell from his mouth to the floor of the balcony.

Faye heard him speak and turned around. He had an odd expression on his face. It seemed to be a mix of shock and angst, she guessed. She approached him cautiously. He still stared at the moon.

"What's wrong?" she asked placing her warm hand on his bare shoulder.

He turned his troubled gaze to her and she almost gasped. For the first time since she'd met him, she saw a genuine sad emotion radiating from his eyes. She could see the grief and exhaustion in them…she could see the sorrow.

"We're not dead," he said adverting his eyes and shrugging off her hand. He bent down and reclaimed his fallen cigarette. As he wandered to the edge of the balcony he mumbled. "Not even death would have mercy on me…"

"If…we're not dead, are we dreaming?" she asked trying to ignore his last comment.

"Probably," he shrugged.

"It's her, isn't it?" she asked staring at the moon once more. "You're upset because she's gone again." She paused for a few moments and got no response. "She's dead…I overheard you when you told Jet…"

"Faye," he cut her off. "Don't." His voice was stern and cold.

Faye became irritated. Had she risked her life for a man that couldn't care less about her? She heatedly threw the pack of cigarettes to the floor. 

"Sometimes you are such a prick, Spike!" she spat scournfully. "Acting like nothing happened isn't going to make it go away! If you loved her that much the least you could do is properly mourn her!"

Faye turned on her heels and stormed into the bedroom. She plopped down on the bed with a sigh and stared through the glass at the ocean. She felt like such a fool. Of all people, why had she fallen for such a cruel, emotionless man?

Spike stood stunned on the balcony for a few minutes. Faye's words had really hit him hard. As much as he hated to admit it, she was right. He should mourn Julia. So, why couldn't he muster up the emotion to do so anymore? Had her death hardened his heart? Too many questions. He flicked his cigarette butt off the balcony and walked back into the bedroom.

Faye sat on the bed hunched over, a curtain of ebony hair shielding her face. Spike moved through the room and sat next to her on the opposite side of the bed. It was then that he noticed she was silently crying. He didn't know what to say, he never did when women cried. He resorted to putting a hand on her shoulder as she had done for him.

She instantly recoiled from his hand as if it had bitten her. "Don't touch me, you selfish bastard!" she screamed so loudly Spike winced. He stared dumbly at her. "I risked my life for you!" she sobbed. "And you don't even care! You don't care about anyone but yourself!"

Spike racked his brain for a witty retort, but came up blank. As he watched her cry, a stinging emotion started to eat away at his gut. He couldn't tell whether it was grief or guilt. Out of some bizarre impulse, he reached out and took Faye's struggling body into his arms.

Faye tried to throw off his arms, but quickly realized she hadn't the strength. Spike was much stronger than he looked. He held her with a tenacity he very rarely displayed. She began to settle into his embrace as his scent overwhelmed her senses. Her body relaxed and her sobs subsided. She felt the sudden urge to put her arms around him, but couldn't budge them from their current position. It didn't matter, though. Nothing mattered at that moment. She sighed.

As Spike loosened his grip on her, she made a soft sound of protest. Pale arms wrapped around his torso and her head rested against his chest.

"Don't let go," she whispered sadly. "Please, hold me…I can't stand the cold…"

He obeyed returning her embrace. "You know," he said, his voice low, "Julia had once spoken similar words to me. Sometimes…you remind me so much of her."

Faye blinked back some tears. "Is that good or bad?" she asked listening to his heart beat.

He pondered the question before responding. "I used to think it was bad…I felt like one day you might kill my love for Julia. So, I tried my best to ignore or insult you." He fell silent for a couple minutes. "But now…now, I regret treating you like that. It wasn't your fault you reminded me of my lost love."

Faye never responded. He had said enough. Arms still holding fast to each other, they settled into a lying position. Soon, their breathing became slow and rythmic as they drifted off to sleep.