Blue. Everything was washed over in blue when Spike Spiegel opened his eyes minutes after he fell that one morning. The huge expanse of space at the foot of the grand staircase was empty, the Syndicate members having fled shortly after Vicious had fallen. He sat up slowly on the step he was lying across, looked down and held back a cry of shock. He had been lying on top of another version of himself. A very dead version of himself - still bleeding from a gaping slash through his chest, jacket torn almost in half, Jericho still in hand.

He looked down at his own chest - his jacket looked brand new, his chest was very much intact, and his gun was nowhere to be found.

"Oh, shit..."

Behind him, he heard footsteps. "You're here." The feminine voice made every hair on his body stand up on end. He knew that voice. It was the voice of a ghost.

"I'm dead, aren't I?"

"What makes you so sure?" Julia asked, sitting down on the stairs beside him.

He looked pointedly at the blood-splattered figure lying prone between them. "It's just a hunch, considering that guy seems to be pretty dead."

"That's you, Spike." Julia continued to watch him intently. "That Spike Spiegel died in battle. The Spike Spiegel sitting here with me is still very much alive..." Her voice trailed off as she looked away from him.

There had to be a 'but.' Her tone of voice indicated that, and Spike pressed her onward. "But?"

"...but he has a choice to make," she finished.

"Which one of us?" When she didn't answer him, he continued. "The one that's dead, or the one that's alive?"

"The one that's alive, Spike. You. The dead one sure as hell can't make a decision, now can he?" She sighed. "We have to talk."

He raised an eyebrow in question. "This is all pretty bizarre, Julia..."

"Why did you let yourself fall, Spike?" she asked him suddenly.

He froze, taken aback. She actually has to ask why I let Vicious get in a fair shot? He replied without giving it a second thought. "Because I didn't have any reason not to."

To his surprise, Julia gave a bitter laugh. "You didn't have a reason?"

Spike reached over the still body between them to take her hand in his. "You have always been my reason, Julia. I... Without you, there wasn't anything left. I thought you understood that." He was tempted to move closer to her, but the thought of getting any nearer to the dead twin wasn't exactly helping the situation. Instead, he just sat with her, listening to her talk.

"Spike... I never doubted how you felt about me. I loved you. I still do, very much so. But... people move on. Even when their world crumbles around them, they still have the will to stand tall. I never forgot you - how could I? But after I left you and Vicious and the Syndicate, I went off on my own. I needed to get away from it all. I felt like I needed to be looking for something, that there was something missing. But I didn't even know what that was. That's when I fell in love again."

Spike stared at her, his good eye registering surprise. "You did? With who?"

"It's not important. It didn't last. But the point is that I moved on, Spike. And so will you, if you choose to live. If you choose to live without me, you'll still live life the way you were meant to. You may even fall in love again. You're not the first person to lose someone. I did. She did."

"She? Who's she?" Spike asked, confused. Julia didn't answer, instead looking past him to the foot of the staircase. "Oh, Christ..."

He'd thought that he'd seen the last of her back at the Bebop only hours earlier. But Faye was back, her heels clicking loudly against the marble of the stairs, the noise ringing in the unusually quiet room. When she reached the crumpled body, she crouched down beside it and reached out a hand to poke at it.

"Does she think I'm dead?" Spike asked Julia, who was watching the exchange between the female bounty hunter and her fallen comrade sadly.

"She does. I don't think she's too surprised to find you like this, either." Julia turned her attention back to Spike. "Do you think she'll mourn your death, Spike?"

"I don't know. Either that, or she'll steal my money, my cigarettes and leave me lying there," Spike rolled his eyes. "Typical Faye."

"But some people can surprise you," Julia pointed out. "She's not exactly thrilled right now, is she?"

Spike glanced at Faye again, and was somewhat surprised to see the sad expression on her pale face as she pulled her radio out of her pocket. "Who's she calling?"

"Your partner, probably."

Spike nodded absentmindedly and continued to watch as Faye's lips moved as she spoke, but no sound came out. "What's she saying, though?"

"Does it matter?"

"I'm just curious."

"We're not supposed to know. Words of the living aren't meant for the dead to hear."

"I wouldn't know. I haven't been dead before," Spike replied. He paused. "So, wait, am I dead or not?"

Julia only gave him that enigmatic half-smile in reply. "Do you want to be?"

Spike sighed, frustrated. "Is this a trick question? What do I need to say... to be able to stay with you?" He waited for a response, and when he got none, he stood up, leaving his ghostly visage, his lover, and Faye on the stairs. "You keep dodging the question, Julia."

"Only because I don't want to influence your choice..." Now Julia was rising to her feet as well, standing up to face him.

Spike stared at her. "How could you influence it? I want to be with you, Julia. Not here, in a world without you." Something wasn't making sense, and slowly another possibility began to form in his mind. "Unless... you don't want to be with... me?"

Julia looked horrified. "No! I mean, no, that's not it! Spike, if there was a way for us to be together -"

"But there is," Spike reminded her. "I can stay here with you."

Julia finally crumbled in front of him. "It's not your time, Spike! You're not even supposed to be here! Part of me wants to hold onto you and keep you here with me, but I can't let myself do that. You're not supposed to be dead. We're not even supposed to be able to have a choice whether or not we live and die. But Spike... you have a reason to live, just as much as you had a reason to give up and let yourself die."

"And what reason would that be, Julia?"

"This is your life, Spike. No matter how twisted or horrible or depressing it is, it's your life. You're different from us, Spike."

"Why's that?" he asked her.

Julia smiled tenderly at him. "You're different because you're not alone. You strayed from the path you set for yourself the first time you walked it. You found a family, and you found love. That itself is something worth living for, Spike."

"What'd you mean, 'I found love?'"

"Look behind you, Spike."

Spike turned around to see Faye sitting forlornly on the stairs, cradling him in her arms, looking slightly uncomfortable. "What, you mean Faye? I'm not in love with Faye, Julia. That's insane!"

"Maybe not, but you do love her."

Spike was about to protest, but Julia stepped closer and pressed a finger gently against his lips. "And you love Jet, and the little girl. And even the dog. They're your family, Spike. The only real family you ever had - or have a chance to keep. Your death will affect them, just as mine affected you."

Spike looked back at Faye, emotions warring inside of him. She does mean a lot to me. She's one of my friends... even though we don't act like it. She came all this way, even risking herself getting killed, just to find me. Only a friend would do that, wouldn't they? And yet, while the choice was eerily clear, he just couldn't find the words. He turned back to Julia. His love, so different from the woman mourning his death, and yet the sadness in her eyes was the very same.

Julia took his hands in hers. "Spike... I know this is a lot to take in. But you have to choose soon, or else you can never go back." She took another step closer, looking up at him. Spike pulled her closer, his arms going around her, holding her as he tried to gather the nerve to say what needed to be said.

"I'll go back." Julia relaxed in his arms, pulling back to look him in the eye.

"I know you'd say that."

"What do I need to do?" Spike asked. She didn't answer, simply tugged him back down to the stairs to sit next to her.

"Just... close your eyes. It'll be easier that way," she said softly, settling down beside him. He obediently closed his eyes, but opened them again seconds later.

"One last kiss... for the road?" he requested, trying to smile but failing. Julia smiled wistfully and fell into his embrace again, letting his lips press gently against hers before she pulled away slightly. The tears were threatening to fall, and she couldn't let him see her cry. If he saw did, she wouldn't be able to do what she needed in order to send him back. His eyes closed once more, and she reached behind her, her fingers roving across the cool marble, searching for and then finding the object concealed behind her.

Spike stirred in her arms, and she softly began to sing, her shaky voice carrying the sad melody easily, as she dragged the blood-stained katana slowly towards her.

"Oh how I love you so, lost in those memories..."

Her fingers wrapped around the handle of the blade, maneuvering it silently towards Spike, her voice gaining strength. Inwardly, she spoke a silent prayer that he wouldn't open his eyes and see her.

"And now you've gone..."

She held the katana high, its deadly point aimed at Spike's chest. Her voice still carried over the sound of her heart beating loudly. There was no time to think; time was running out.

"I feel the pain, feeling like a fool..."

She drew in a sharp breath, brought the katana down, and connected.

"Adieu..."

Spike let out a frantic gasp of air, his eyes still shut, and lay still. The tears finally fell free, and Julia held the once-again crumpled body to her as she moved it to rest on top of its twin, who was still in Faye's arms. Julia let her gaze drift upward to look into the sad eyes of the female bounty hunter, and the tears began to fall even harder.

My love for you burns deep inside me... so strong...

"Fucking hell, Lunkhead!" Faye Valentine shouted angrily, holding onto her bruised hand in agony. "Are you trying to fucking break my hand?" She glared down at the barely conscious man in her lap and attempted a threatening scowl.

It lasted about ten seconds before the tears started to well in the corners of her eyes.

"And now you're trying to make me fucking cry! Oh, that is just typical, Spike!" She continued to vent at him as his hand reached out blindly for hers, finding it again and holding onto it tightly. "Do you have any idea how badly you scared me - I mean, us?" She was babbling, but talking was the only thing that was preventing her from crying in relief. "Are you even listening to me? Spike? Spike?"

"I'm sorry about your hand."

"You damn well should be! That's my shooting hand!"

Heavy footsteps made Faye turn her attention away from Spike, as she saw Jet and a bunch of cops running down the room towards them.

"Faye! You got Spike?"

"Yeah, she's got me," Spike managed to shout back.

"Oh, shut up. Even in death, he manages to injure me. How does he do that?"

"Faye, shut up," barked Jet, limping up the stairs to her side. "Well, looks like Lady Luck found you yet again, Spike."

"I'm so lucky," Spike drawled, as two of the cops crouched down on either side of him, taking an arm over each of their shoulders.

"Let's just get out of here," Faye said impatiently, working her hand free of Spike's as he managed to stand up, before falling again. "And shit, someone get a stretcher or something over here. I don't think he can stand, much less walk."

"So observant," muttered Spike, as the two officers lowered him carefully back onto the ground and ran off to go find a stretcher. "Shit, Lunkhead, you're bleeding everywhere."

"Getting sliced open tends to cause bleeding, Faye. A lot of it," he retorted. Jet shot both of them an annoyed glare.

"Save it for later, you two. I think we all want to get out of here as soon as possible." Jet hurried off as fast as his injured leg would allow, presumably to go yell at the medical crew to hurry up. This left Spike and Faye alone once again on the staircase.

"You really came all this way after me, huh?" asked Spike.

"Spike... you're such an idiot," sniffled Faye in response. She angrily swiped the tears off of her face, looking away from him. He didn't press on further.

But when the medical crew finally arrived to load Spike onto the gurney, Faye felt his hand slip from hers for a third time. She didn't even remember taking it in the first place. Or maybe he'd taken hers. Either way, it wasn't so bad. Strangely enough, hers seemed to fit in his almost perfectly.

And I know by your smile it's you.