Faye padded into her room, wrapped in her short, white robe, dripping puddles with each step. Her normally pale skin was flushed pink with an hour long, scorching hot shower. She moved over to her closet, flung the door open, and peered inside. Her tiny closet was crammed full of clothes; mostly dresses she'd needed to wear to various functions and hadn't been able to return afterwards, or that she'd neglected to pay for in the first place. Faye scowled. She had nothing to wear. Her latest outfit was crumpled in a tight wad, smashed into one of corners of her closet, and she almost laughed at the idea of putting on that ridiculous skirt and blouse.
No, both outfits had too much Faye Harte in them. And whenever she was Faye Harte, she got stung. She needed to be all Valentine. After all, Faye Valentine was still alive, while Harte had died half a century ago.
She needed something tight. So fucking tight it'd give a priest a hard-on. Faye smirked, feeling nauseated. So tight and revealing that all they'd see was a hot body, nothing further. Too bad that outfit was lying in a dumpster somewhere on Mars. She muttered irritably, snatching clothes randomly off their hangers, then discarding them over her shoulder. She continued this method for quite some time before her hand closed over something sleek and shiny. Faye smiled slowly. Perfect. It was an exact replica of her skimpy yellow ensemble, except for its red color. She'd picked it out years ago, with Witney Hagas Matsumoto, who had insisted on the color because it was his favorite for her. Faye shrugged off her robe and wriggled into the tiny shorts, pulling the suspenders on with a satisfied snap, then slipped on the top, buttoning it taut across her breasts. Perfect.
"Smoke, smoke, smoke! Puff, puff, puff! Chimney-Spike! Spike-chimney! Smoke, smoke, smoke…" Spike followed Ed's movements as she danced around the room, limbs flailing.
"Ed…I'm not smoking." He'd run out of cigarettes ten minutes ago.
"Puff, puff, puff…" Spike sighed, looking at his empty carton woefully.
"Say, Ed?" Ed paused, arms raised above her head.
"Yes chimney-Spike?"
"I think Jet was looking for someone to help him with his bonsai trees, if you wanted to – "
"Snip, snip bonsai!" Ed hollered, darting off.
"Let Jet deal with her for a while…" he muttered, stretching out full length on the yellow couch. He had too much to think about to be distracted by Ed. Namely, last night.
So…temporary insanity? Jeez, I sound like an asshole. But me and Faye? We're like two different species, for fuck's sake! Then again, last night didn't feel wrong… It felt like when I was with Julia. Spike shifted uncomfortably, then ground his teeth in anger. That's fucking bullshit. Faye like Julia, ha! Maybe not temporary insanity, more like temporary lust. Yeah, that could be it. After all, it'd been a while since I last -
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of heels clicking on metal, and he lifted his head before thinking. Green eyes stared back at him, flickering once with some emotion he couldn't identify. Spike slouched down into the cushions of the couch, unnerved by a wave of jumbled, intense feeling.
Temporary lust, temporary lust…he repeated frantically. And then she was past him, heading for the kitchen. Spike relaxed and heaved a silent sigh of relief. He turned his head cautiously and watched her retreating form, slim, curving back exposed, hips swaying sensuously…
Oh shit.
Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
You been out ridin' fences for so long now,
Oh, you're a hard one, I know that you got your reasons,
These things that are pleasin' you can hurt you somehow.
Don't you draw the queen of diamonds, boy, she'll beat you if she's
able.
You know the queen of hearts is always your best bet.
Now it seems to me some fine things have been laid upon your table,
But you only want the ones you can't get.
Desperado, oh, you ain't gettin' no younger,
Your pain and your hunger, they're drivin' you home,
And freedom, oh freedom, well, that's just some people talkin'
Your prison is walkin' through this world all alone.
Don't your feet get cold in the wintertime?
The sky won't snow and the sun won't shine,
It's hard to tell the nighttime from the day.
You're losin' all your highs and lows,
Ain't it funny how the feelin' goes away?
Desperado, why don't you come to your senses?
Come down from your fences, open the gate
It may be rainin', but there's a rainbow above you.
You better let somebody love you,
LET SOMEBODY LOVE YOU.
You better let somebody love you,
before it's too late.
Faye jerked the refrigerator door open and leaned against it, gazing at the containers of food without really seeing them. What was that look in his eyes… Embarrassment? Confusion? Anger? She pulled out what she thought was a carton of orange juice. It doesn't matter. Like I give a shit about that ass, Spike.
"Ed!" Jet thundered from the other room. "Stay away from my –" Something crashed to the floor and shattered. All was silent for a moment, then Jet came storming into the kitchen, dragging a limp Edward across the floor.
"But Ed was helping!" she protested. Jet snarled wordlessly, lifting her and dumping her into a chair.
"Will you stop 'helping' if I fix you something to eat?" he demanded. Ed straightened and nodded her head furiously. "Good. How about some – " Jet turned towards the refrigerator, then broke off, noticing Faye for the first time. "Oh, er - so you're finally up, are you?" Faye kicked the fridge door shut and began to drink orange juice directly from the carton. Jet glared and snatched it away from her. "Honestly, Faye, if you want orange juice, pour some in a glass… There are other people on this ship, you know." He slammed the carton down on the table and reached in the cabinet behind him to get a glass.
"Well, excuse me!" Faye said huffily, tossing her hair and placing a hand on her bare hip. Jet glanced back at her.
"So what happened to yesterday's outfit?" he asked casually. Faye shrugged.
"It's in my closet."
"Aren't you going to wear it anymore?" Faye ignored him, studying her nails pointedly.
"I thought that it was a very nice – "
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Faye exploded, throwing up her hands. "What are you…the fashion police?" She stalked past him angrily, muttering, "like you're one to talk." Jet watched her go, eyebrows lifted in surprise.
"I think I'm very fashionable," he said in an injured tone. "Don't you Ed?" He looked over at the wiry red-head, who had ripped open the carton of orange juice and was proceeding to lap it up like a dog. Ein was watching her interestedly. Jet rolled his eyes and sighed.
"Men are such idiots," Faye muttered, releasing a stream of smoke. She sat on the toilet in the cramped space of the bathroom, elbows resting on her knees, a cigarette dangling from her lower lip. She stared into the distance absently, an image of Spike reclining casually on the couch flashing before her eyes. "God, they are such idiots!" she fumed, snatching the cig from her mouth and hurling it to the floor, grinding it into oblivion with the heel of her black boot.
"Faye-Faye, say-say, play-play, day-day…" Faye moaned and dropped her head into her hands.
"Not now…" The all too familiar voice silenced, and Faye lifted her head hopefully.
"Faye-Faye!" Ed rapped on the door loudly.
"Go away, Ed!" Faye told her.
"Faye-Faye!" Ed whined.
"What is it?" Faye asked through clenched teeth.
"You've got mail!"
"What?" Faye stood up and opened the bathroom door. "Is it ticking?" Ed looked at her blankly, then held Tomato up to her ear and listened.
"Nay-nay, Faye-Faye!"
"Oh, it's e-mail. Lemme see…" Faye grabbed the laptop from her and peered at it narrowly. "Where…"
"It's video, Faye-Faye!" Ed chirped, snaking around and striking a key.
"Hello, Faye." Faye's hands went limp and she almost dropped the laptop.
"N-no…" she gasped, eyes widened in horror, backing up and holding the computer as far away from her as possible. Vicious' pale face loomed at her from the screen.
I'm really, REALLY sorry to keep you guys waiting for so long… Especially after all the excellent reviews you gave.
Um, please don't hurt me?
Song titled "Desperado," lyrics by D. Henley and G. Frey