Chapter 2: Time Etches
Faye delivered a swift kick to the punching back before she easily slid back into her previous fighting stance. Her blood seemed to be boiling through her veins as she mercilessly attacked the bag, imagining that it was the cause of all her problems, and Goddamn, she really wished that it was. Two kicks, a left jab, and then a right hook came crashing down onto the bag at an amazingly fast pace. A few loose strands of purple hair kept falling in front of her eyes, but she was too absorbed into fighting her target to even notice.
She was angry, to say the least. Pissed would have been the better adjective, but what had annoyed her the most was that she couldn't explain why she was so flustered and frustrated. Spike was awake, so she should have been happy. Was she? No, not even in the slightest. Three quick punches were laid onto the bag at a rapid speed. There was so much tension coming from her that at one point, she was unsure if her muscles would cooperate long enough with her to get this work out. She prayed that they didn't fail her though. She really needed this workout to make herself feel complete. Once the punches started coming though, they just wouldn't stop. She became fluid like water, the very thing that he always had been.
Even in bed…
He had been such an asshole. He still was an asshole. Nothing but a lowlife, fucking asshole. A strong kick from her right leg slammed into the bag, sending it swaying away from her. He had left her to go fight Vicious, just like he had left her to go find Julia. There were no goodbyes, no reassuring words. He left her as if she had meant nothing to him, and in a way, she always had a feeling that she didn't. Maybe she was being a little bit selfish about it, but what about her needs? Did he ever stop to think about how she felt? Did he even wonder what his disappearance would do to her? Did he even care?
A cry of rage escaped her throat as she spun around once and kicked the returning bag with the back of her heel. No, he hadn't cared, so why in the Hell should she care about him now? It didn't matter though, because that point was that she did care, and maybe she cared just a little bit too much. When she was around him, she generally felt better about herself. She felt alive, and her life started to have meaning and purpose. But what was that one phrase that she remembered from her childhood?
'All good things come to an end.'
She reached out her hand and stopped the bag from hitting her when it had swung back in her direction. Beads of sweat were rolling down her forehead and back as she tried to get her breathing back to an even pace. This was supposed to have calmed her mind while tiring out her body. This hadn't helped her at all. Neither did the cigarettes, and she had a feeling that nothing else would either. She plopped down to the floor, sitting down Indian style, absent mindly glaring at everything around her. She rested her elbow on her leg before placing her chin in her upturned palm. A look of annoyance was on her face as she now focused on the open space in front of her.
"Damn it all to Hell," she muttered to herself, closing her eyes briefly. She could feel the now damp white tank top clinging to her sides because of her sweat. It was a disgusting feeling that she had hated, but she was in no mood to do anything about it right away. Several thoughts were going through her head, and none of them were comforting. Since when had she had so much inner conflict? Why was Spike's awakening bothering her so much?
Why the fuck was she sitting on the floor?
With a low growl, she forced herself to her feet, wiping the sweat that had gathered in her hands off on her black, spandex pants. She needed a shower, some quiet time with just herself, and something strong at the moment. Maybe then everything would be easier to deal with. It was her fickle logic that was telling her that nothing solved problems better than a nice hot shower and a straight shot of vodka.
Faye briefly remembered her promise to Jet about her current drinking issue. 'Nothing harder than a beer.' Yea. He could make this a reasonable exception, and even if he couldn't, it was her ass going out to get drunk not him. To top it all off, she was a happy drunk. It was decided then. One bottle of vodka and a shower, coming right up.
Turning around, happy with herself now that all the voices in side of her were quiet, she stopped dead in her tracks when she was face to face with the cause of all her inner struggles. For a second, she didn't know what to do, but then she ended up crossing her arms over her chest and standing in what she hoped to be the most natural stance. She said, "Spike," wincing when she heard her voice crack on his name. He was dressed in his normal workout outfit, and why he was there, she didn't have a clue. Someone in his condition shouldn't even be out of bed, but she should have known better.
He leaned against the doorframe with his signature cigarette hanging from his closed lips. With his eyes fixated on her, he nodded to her in return as a sign of his acknowledgement. 'Couldn't even get a proper hello,' she noted to herself, narrowing her eyes at his somewhat friendly gesture.
"The Hell are you doing up?" she asked with an edge to her voice. She was still pissed off, restless, and still clueless on why she was that way. Nevertheless, she was never one to be above taking out all her anger on the man standing before her. She did it so often; she could, she should have called it an art form by now. His eyes were still locked onto her, but she didn't recognize the look that was within them.
He shrugged his shoulders, and pulled the cigarette from his mouth. "I came looking for you." He said it with such a, 'No shit,' tone, that she could feel the muscles in her body slightly twitch.
She raised her eyebrow in surprise and confusion. "Oh really?"
"Jet said you would be up here."
"Well, he was right."
They stood there for a moment, her glaring at him, him staring at her with that still unfamiliar look. They stayed that way for what seemed like hours to Faye, and even though she could have easily lost herself in his eyes, she did have places that she wanted to go. "Are you going to explain why you're looking for me, or should I just pull an answer from my ass, and guess?" she snapped at him. Internally, she scolded herself for sounding so harsh, but there was no sign of it present on her face.
The emotion that was in his eyes faded, and was replaced with one of frustration and annoyance. "Well fuck, Faye. I just came up here to talk to you, but I would have stayed in my bed and not hobbled my weak ass here if I knew you were going to be such a bitch about it." She was surprised at the way he suddenly snapped at her and at the way that he slightly pushed his pride aside, but still her face remained passive and uncaring.
Still trying to size one another up, she noticed the small beads of sweat that were forming on his forehead. Faye had forgotten in her anger that he was in a weakened condition. She hadn't been sure before, but now she guessed that he could walk. Even so, it must have been Hell for him to get to this room. It was then that she also noticed how he was clutching the door frame with one hand to support himself as if his life depended on it. Taking a hesitant step forward, she called out his name with a worried tone in her voice. He disregarded her and pushed himself away from the door, attempting to stand up on his own while ignoring the pain that shot through his unused muscles.
"Spike," she tried again, "you know that you should still be resting." He didn't look at her and took another shaky step toward her. She had to give the man credit; for someone who had been bedridden for so long, he really could hold his own. "Damnit, you know that you should still be in bed. You shouldn't even be walking until a few days from now."
"I'll be fine, Faye." He fell back a step and grasped onto the doorframe again while cursing under his breath. He was really pushing his luck by doing this, but this was important. It needed to be done now and not later.
Faye stared at him with a perplexed look in her eyes. Walking up to him, she wrapped one arm around his waist as she placed his arm around her shoulder. "You're so stubborn," she hissed at him. He only gave her a small lop-sided grin in response. She had a feeling that he knew she was and yet wasn't mad at him at all, and that feeling deeply unnerved her. She cast him a quick glance from the corner of her eye as she helped him steadily walk back to his room.
The walk was spent in silence with the exception of his low ragged breath. He still hadn't told he why he was there looking for her, but she assumed that he would fill her in on that part later. The heat that was coming off of his body she seemed to absorb through her arms' bare skin. She felt a slight chill slither down her spine while she was walking, but forced her body not to shudder. She was partially glad she saw neither Ed nor Jet while they were walking back to his room. At the moment, Faye didn't feel like explaining what his dumb ass attempted to do, nor why her face had suddenly taken a flusher look to it.
Slowly, she helped him lay back down on his bed. A look of gratitude was on his face briefly before it turned back into a serious look once again. It was a look that she was quickly learning to hate. Before she got the chance to turn and leave, his hand shot out and weakly grabbed her wrist.
"Faye." She looked back down at him with a blank and questioning stare. "We need to talk." Ah, so that's why he was there, but she didn't know what it was about. In the back of her mind she had a small suspicion about what it might have involved, but she wasn't one to jump to conclusions.
With a sigh, she covered his hand with hers. "We'll talk when you've rested more." If she was right about what he wanted to talk about, she wasn't in the mood for it. At the moment, it would have only caused more damage to her than good. She could almost hear the vodka whispering her name. Trying to pull away, she only felt his grip tighten, holding her in place. "Spike, let me go. I have to take a shower."
His eyes narrowed when his mismatched orbs locked with her jade ones. "No, Faye. We need to talk now. You know what we need to talk about, too." At that moment, her whole body seemed to tense up and freeze. So, she had been right, but she didn't know if she was ready to address that point of time at the moment. She knew that it was going to have to be discussed at one moment or another, but she just wasn't ready for it.
His lips softly ghosted down the sensitive part of her neck as his hands gently roamed up her sides. She quietly moaned his name before his lips captured her in a passionate kiss. Thin, pale fingers curled themselves in his unruly hair as she rubbed against him.
That same shudder went down her spine again. Secretly, she was glad that the room was so dark because that way he wasn't able to see the dark flush that spread across her cheeks. The memory of it still sent a bolt of pleasure humming through her body when she thought about it. A part of her still hated herself for it, but the majority of her still loved ever moment of it. Even though he couldn't see her blush, he recognized the glazed look in her eyes.
"I thought that you would remember." Her trance broke, and she glared at him with all the strength she could work up for his statement. Over the years, she had always wondered if he would remember that when he woke up, and now that she knew that he did, what was she going to do about it? Run back into his arms, hoping that he would claim her body and soul like he had once before? No, that kind of treatment was only meant for the dead. The whole event had split her opinions down the middle. Half of her had wanted him badly, and always would. The other half cynically reminded her that every time he looked at her, he would only see Julia because that's what he really wanted to see.
"How could I forget?" she asked herself more than she had asked him. Sensing that she wouldn't leave, he let go of her wrist, and stared up at her. Immediately, she wrapped her arms around herself in a protective stance. Even as he stared at her, she felt exposed and naked under his glance. She had been that way so many times before, so why was she unnerved by it now?
The silence was thick in the room for the next few minutes. She was staring absent mindedly at the wall, while Spike was still looking at her profile. She had changed so much, and yet she hadn't really changed at all. He could tell that she was trying to put a wall between herself and him, and he didn't really understand why. Before, she would take it down without even asking, but now it seemed larger and reinforced. She was hiding something, but at the moment, he wasn't really sure what it was.
"There's nothing we need to talk about, Spike. Everything has already been said," Faye commented with a tone of sadness in her voice. Her eyes closed as she wrapped her arms around her body tighter. God, she didn't want this. Not this, not now. It was too much. Too much was being asked of her…
"Faye," he began with a very small tone of begging in his voice, "nothing has been discussed at all. We didn't even get to talk about it when I ran off. I wanted to clear everything up now." He could sense that she wanted to bolt out of the room, but he knew that she wouldn't. She refused to meet his gaze, and that concerned him even more.
"What? That I'm not Julia and I'm never going to compare to what she was?" Bitterness was heard in her voice, and Spike flinched because of it. She had hit below the belt and they both knew it, but Spike knew better than to explode on her for it now. He was far too weak to pick a fight with her, and by the way she looked, he didn't know what she would run off and do.
He shook his head sadly, "You know that's not what I meant." A frown took place on his face when she didn't turn around to look at him. He needed to see her eyes to be able to tell what she was thinking at the moment. They always gave away all her emotions in a straight forward message.
When he tried to reach out for her again, she took a step away and faced the door. "I have stuff to do. We'll talk about this later. Rest now." With that, she left the room before he could argue and softly closed the door behind her.
His hand curled into a fist as he slammed it down on his bed with all the strength he could muster. He let out a soft moan as his muscles once again rippled in pain. He needed to stop doing that, but he was so confused as to what was going on. This was the second time that day that someone had left him in the dark, and it was starting to get on his last nerve. If it wasn't for the fact that he really did need rest, he would have put up a better argument and threatened to kick all their asses.
Closing his eyes, he thought to himself. He would have to deal with this some other time. Now was a good time for sleep, and that was when he slipped back into the cool arms of darkness.
Scalding water repeatedly hit her back before sliding all the way down her body to her ankles. Jet was going to be pissed at her for using all the hot water, but at the moment she didn't care in the least. Memories of what had happened years ago were freshly running through her mind, and she had hoped that the hot water would distract her. It wasn't working very well.
She rubbed the sponge harder against her skin than necessary causing it to turn a bright pink. She felt dirty and disgusted with herself, and she had a feeling that no matter how long she scrubbed that the feeling wouldn't go away. It was a gritty feeling of self loathing that seemed to coat her whole body in massive layers, and every time she looked in the mirror after thinking about it, it only got thicker.
How the Hell could she had let something that disgraceful happen to herself? She used to be so proud when she looked into the mirror, but now she only remembered one thing. She let him use her. Yes, she had. She had let him use her as just his mate in bed for not just one night, but for a few months. Up until he had left, of course. She couldn't have sexual affairs with a comatose man, now could she? Maybe a few people would, but she wasn't the type. So now the next question she repeatedly asked herself came up, and it was the shortest question and either the simplest or hardest to answer.
Why? Why had she done it?
The shortest answer would be: Because she wanted him in the same way he wanted her. The not so simple answer, well, that was a bit harder to explain. When she first got into that type of relationship with him, she didn't know what she had been thinking at the time. Neither of them was drunk like most had assumed, but something that she couldn't really explain happened that day. It was hard to remember what actually happened, because to her it was all still surreal. It all seemed like a dream to her.
A bottle of red wine that she had stolen from the last bounty was placed on the table beside the ratty old couch while she held a glass filled with said wine in her hand. Her other hand was holding the controller to the TV because at the moment she was waiting for Big Shot to come on in a few minutes. After that she was going to sit around watching infomercials for a while if there wasn't anyone worth catching. At the moment, some corny kids' TV program was on. She got a brief flashback of one of those shows from her childhood, but nothing really worth remembering.
She took a sip of her wine while still watching the stupid show over the tip of her glass. For a moment, she swished the wine around in her mouth, savoring the taste. It dated back all the way to 1971. Exactly one hundred year old wine, and it tasted fantastic.
"I didn't know that our Little Faye was learning her numbers," a voice taunted with an implied 'aww' tone in his voice. She lifted up her glass in a mock toast to Spike, knowing that it was him without even needing to turn around.
"I drink this fine wine in salute to thee, O Noble and Wise One, who does not know how to spell the word 'cat.'" With that, she quickly downed the rest of the wine that was in her glass before reaching over to pour some more. When her hand only hit empty air, she looked up at the lanky man, who was now holding her bottle of aged wine.
He gave her his trademark smirk before giving her one of his usual smartass comments. "Oh yea? Well K-E-T." He took a big swig of her wine, inwardly laughing at the pissed off look that spread across her face. He loved trying to press all her buttons. Her face, her expressions, it was just all so priceless. "Cat." He gave her an all out grin, expecting her to lash out at him at any moment.
"Give me back the damn bottle now," she growled between clenched teeth. He lowly chuckled as he grasped the bottle by its neck, partially waving it above her head. "Remind me why, oh why, I should listen to you." She reached up for the bottle with one hand, grunting as he pulled it out of her reach at the last moment. He laughed now, watching her as she tried to reach for the bottle again and again like a small child that wouldn't learn.
"I'm old enough to be your mother- grandmother! That's why!" she snapped, reaching for it again in vain. Still playing the small game of Keep Away with her, he gave her a perplexed look.
"So? That's not a very good reason." Finally, Faye stood up and grabbed the main part of the bottle and tugged it away from Spike. With an accomplished look, she poured herself another glass of wine and downed it quickly before sticking her tongue out at him. He leaned over and pinched her cheek when she did that, causing her face to go into a look of surprise. "She's so cute when she's angry!"
She slapped his hand away. "Goddamn, you're so annoying!" She plopped back onto the couch, only to find herself sitting on top of his chest. How and when he managed to dive on the couch and lay down in his normal position was completely beyond her. She didn't think he could move that fast, but apparently he did. She glared down at him, only to see him giving her the same look.
"What the Hell, Spike? I was sitting here first!" she screamed at him. His face broke out into a smile. Truly-fucking-priceless.
"But you got up."
She paused for a moment staring at him as if he was insane. She never really knew, maybe he was. "The Hell does that have to do with anything!"
"Now I got here first." She slapped him with the nearby pillow right in the face.
"You are so Goddamn impossible! So damn childish! Arg!" He chuckled again until he got slapped with the pillow once more. Pulling the pillow away from his face, he was still smirking up at Faye's irritated form.
"You're cranky like a grandmother." She growled at him a little bit, raising the pillow in the threatening manner. Words couldn't have expressed how she wanted to smother him. Smother him until he was robbed of his very last breath! "But if I had you for a grandmother, then I come from a very sexy family."
At that statement, her mind completely and totally shut down. She stared at him wide eyed for a short while, taking in what he had just said. "Did you just call me sexy?" He shrugged and placed his hands comfortably behind his head. The look in his eyes was hard to decipher. She stared at him for a while longer before he answered her.
"In a round about way, I guess you could say that I did." Standing up, she placed the wine bottle and glass down on the table near them. In the back of her mind, she knew that Big Shot was now on, but at the moment she didn't really care. He had called her sexy. So many other men had as well, but why did it suddenly matter?
"Are you drunk?" she asked, starting at him with suspicious eyes. He stood up and gazed down at her. She briefly noted for the first time how much taller he was than her, almost by a whole head. He still had that implacable look in his eyes while he stared down at her.
He shook his head. "Last time I checked, I was quite sober." She gave him a blank stare. "Why? Do you not like it when I compliment you? I'll stop if you want." She was now the one to shake her head no at his answer. He noted how her cheeks were now slightly flush and her mouth was hanging open just the tiniest bit.
At that moment, he wanted to kiss her more than anything, and he was just damn crazy enough to do it. Plus it was bound to go down into the 'Greatest Expressions Faye's Ever Made of All Time,' list. "Good. So, now, if you want, you can stop me from doing this."
She didn't see it coming. She should have, but she just didn't. She didn't even know that he was going to kiss her until the moment that his lips gently touched her. It was soft at first, almost timid and questioning, but after a moment when Faye didn't protest, Spike wrapped his arms around her body and kissed her with more force and passion. He didn't know what was suddenly coming over him, but he liked it and didn't want it to stop.
She couldn't explain how many times she had dreamed of this happening. Faye had so many day and wet dreams about this exact moment, but when it actually happened, she was rooted to her place and couldn't seem to move. Spike slowly started to pull away, feeling her lack of response as a sign of rejection, but the moment that she felt him move away, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back with equal enthusiasm.
'If this is a dream, and I'm just drunk, this is the best fucking dream I've had in years,' she thought to herself when Spike pulled her tighter against him. Faye could feel all of his well defined chest muscles through his shirt. How long had she wanted to lightly run her hands up and down his body? A week ago? A month? Since they had first met? She didn't really know or care, but at the moment, all she wanted this. It didn't matter if this was all she got, it would be enough for now…
The whole thing was random. To her, it still didn't have an explanation. It was just something that had happened one day that started her on a new path in her life that she previously had no intention of traveling. She had always planned on asking him why that had happened one day, but she assumed that she never really got the chance to ask. Still, it neglected to make it any less confusing than what it already was. The fact that he had abandoned her the next morning didn't really help either, but then again when she thought about it, he always abandoned her, after every single time.
She let out a small hiss when she suddenly felt the water turn freezing cold. "Shit," she cursed as she hurriedly turned off the water. Her soaking wet hair hung limply in front of her eyes, but she brushed it out of the way just so that she could get a clearer view of where her towel was. Reaching out, she grabbed it and quickly wrapped it around her self. Her body shivered on its own accord as she stepped out of the shower, and stood in front of the mirror. Slowly almost tentatively, she wiped the mirror lightly so that she could get a better look of her face.
Bags that she hadn't seen in the longest time were starting to form under her eyes. She looked tired and worn out, and her whole body felt like it had been pushed past its limit. Spike had only been awake for barely a day, and already he was draining her of all the energy that she was willing to offer. This was getting out of hand, and it just so happens that it all started up right when she was finally back on her feet. Fate is very fickle like that. Fate also happened to be a very big bitch.
She let out a sigh as she rested her hands on both sides of the sink, glaring at her image. There was a sense of self loathing within her, but for an unknown reason she felt very apathetic toward her situation. There was at least one thing that she knew would help fix her problems for the moment. It was the path of the Devil that she had tried turning away from, but treading along side it never damaged anyone.
What Jet didn't know didn't hurt him. It was time to make a long overdue appointment with a bar downtown.
"Spike!"
Spike moaned in protest as he was roused from his sleep. He opened his eyes, and glared at the harsh light that was pouring into his room from the hallway. He felt like shit, and he probably looked like it, too. Why the Hell was there someone yelling at him from the doorway waking him up when everyone was trying so hard to get him to go to sleep? Do these people never make sense?
"What time is it?" he asked groggily, placing an arm over his eyes to block the light. He hoped it was a reasonable hour. He prayed to a God that he only sometimes believed in that it was a reasonable hour. Fuck it, if it wasn't a reasonable hour, he was going to take his weak self and still kick some ass.
"It's three in the morning, but that doesn't matter." It was just speaking, he concluded after he let the voice be registered in his head for a few seconds. What did he say? Three in the morning? Fuck, it wasn't a reasonable hour. The Hell did he mean that it didn't matter? Hell yes, it mattered! He groaned again and glared up at Jet as best as he could while still covering his eyes.
"What the Hell, Jet? What you waking me up for now?" Spike whined, even though he wasn't the whining type. A complainer, yes, but definitely not a whiner. He could see Jet's arms folded over his chest as he stood in the doorway while looking down on him. If Spike could have actually seen Jet better, he would have noticed the serious and irritated expression that was on the other man's face.
"Faye's missing."
Spike's arm came down, and his eyes snapped open. The Hell was she doing at three in the morning? He sat up and now fully focused on Jet, ignoring the fact that his eyes were still not well adjusted to the light.
"So what? She's a big girl; I'm sure she can take care of herself." Now that his eyes had adjusted, he could see the frown that was etched between Jet's eyebrows. The look on his face really worried Spike. Since when had Jet cared so much about where Faye ran off to? Normally, he didn't care when anyone disappeared at insane hours in the morning, but some expression in Jet's face told Spike that this was more of a serious matter than Faye just simply missing. For that reason, he became slightly worried. If it wasn't for the look on the other man's face, he most likely wouldn't have cared about the whole situation at all.
"She hasn't been out this late for a long time." The concern in Jet's voice was now really starting to worry him. "Faye didn't even leave a note or tell anyone when she was leaving or where she was planning to head off to, but now that I think about it, I'm sure I know what she ran off to do. What the Hell did you do to her?"
Spike was taken back at Jet's comment. What did he do to her? What the Fuck? "Who the Hell said I did anything to her in the first place?" Spike growled at Jet, slightly pissed off at his accusation. "All I did was try to talk to her, and after I wore my ass out, and then got ignored by her, suddenly her running off is something that I caused? I don't know where the Hell she went, I don't know what she ran off to do, but what I sure as Hell do know is what I didn't cause shit!" Spike's voice was at a higher level than he had originally intended by the time he was finished with his short speech, but the look on Jet's face didn't change. It was a mixture between concern and frustration.
"Do you even know where the Hell she went?" Jet asked, closing his eyes midway through his question. Spike's eyes just narrowed in annoyance.
"I already said I didn't know," he snapped. "Why'd you even bother asking?"
"She's gone out to get piss drunk, Spike." The sentence for some reason hit Spike like a brick. At first, he didn't know why, and he still wouldn't understand why until a much later time. "She left to go do the same exact shit that I told her not to do. The same shit that she had promised me that she wouldn't do! I only ask because I know why she became a drunkard in the first place. She did it because of your ass, Spike! Because of you, I had to spend months just to get her to stop drinking herself into a drunken stupor every damn night. All I wanted to know is if you did any stupid shit to her that could cause her to go and get like this all over again!"
Spike was silent for a long time while he was thinking over what had just been told to him. When was Faye planning on mentioning that to him? How was he supposed to know that he would have such a great affect on her in the first place? It might have explained a few things, but damnit, he had the right to know before now, didn't he?
"Now I really don't give a shit about what used to go on between you to, but I want you to know right now that if she falls apart again, I am holding you responsible to pick up all the shattered pieces since chances are it'll be your own damn fault. The next time you get the chance, straighten this shit out, got it?"
Spike almost completely snapped at Jet's demand. He stood up and strode right up to Jet, getting in his face as much as he possibly could. "Listen here, Goddamn it," Spike hissed between clenched teeth, "you think that I haven't fucking tried already? Don't you even think that I would have thought of that already? Did it even occur to you that that's what I was trying to do in the first place? No! I understand that you give a shit about Faye, and I know that you just want to look out for her, you acting like everyone's goddamned father and everything, but, damnit Jet, maybe just maybe I might give a shit about her, too!"
Jet eyes widened for a brief second before they narrowed and stared into the smaller man's eyes, looking for truth to his words. It was something that he couldn't explain, but he needed to know that the younger man wasn't bullshitting him. Faye's sanity was just that damn important. Finally when he found it, his whole body seemed to relax, and he let out a breath that he didn't know that he had been holding. A small smile formed on his face, and it only grew in size when he noticed the look of confusion that suddenly filled Spike's eyes. He turned around and waved his hand at Spike.
"I'm going to go get her. I'll be back in a couple of hours," he said while his voice was fading down the hallway. Spike stood in the same spot in front of the door, not really sure what to make of what had just happened. First Jet had come in there accusing him of Faye running off-
'Which was probably true', his mind supplied, making him feel a sharp pang of guilt,
and then he gets all happy when he admitted that he cared about Faye. The only question that he could ask himself was, 'What the fuck?' but even that couldn't really explain the general confusion that was going on in his head. Apparently, Faye had been going through some really hard times because of him. He sensed that something was really different about her, but he would have never guessed that she had suddenly created herself a huge drinking problem. It didn't seem like something she would do, but then again, she had changed so much. He wasn't even sure if she was anything like the person that she used to be. Hell, even Jet had changed a whole lot more than he had originally given him credit for. Since when did Jet start giving a serious shit about anyone on the ship?
The more that he stayed awake and talked to everyone, the more that he realized how weird everything had become since he was gone. He seemed to be asking all the right questions, but not getting any of the answers. He still needed to talk to Faye, but apparently he would now have to wait for her to be sober again before he could ask her anything.
One last thing he needed to ask himself: It was three in the morning; what the fuck was he doing up?
"Put me down," Faye demanded weakly. She was currently being held like a baby in Jet's arms while he walked out of the hangar and onto the ship. She shoved him in the shoulder with very little strength, but was still frustrated when it didn't affect him. She muttered a few slurs beneath her breath, all of which were ignored by Jet. He had heard something similar coming from her many times before. This whole scene wasn't anything new to him. He couldn't even begin to count all the times that this had happened.
"I think you've done enough fighting for today, Faye," Jet told her with a fatherly tone in his voice. She simply gave him a small smirk as he ignored the abnormal glint in her eyes. It was moments like this where she reminded him of a very small child, one that needed to be constantly watched and taken care of. He hadn't asked to be their father figure; it had just ended up in his lap like that.
"What?" she asked, drawing out the word for much longer than it was necessary. "All I did wuz def'nd mah-self. He try slip a hand up mah skurt. You believe that?" He nodded and gave her a look that said, 'You're right, and he got what he deserved,' knowing that it would comfort her into a silence. She was right though. Some drunk at the bar did try slipping his hand up her skirt uninvited, and she managed to thoroughly mop the floor with him the moment that Jet had arrived. He didn't know at first how drunk she was, but after he smelled the vodka on her breath while standing a foot away from her and looking at the rows of shot glasses in front of her, he had a pretty good idea.
Jet knew Faye to be a woman that could really hold her liquor, but even she had a breaking point. She had gone way beyond that point, and at the moment she was completely smashed to the point of almost no return. She still muttered incoherent words every now and then while he was walking her to her room. He was going to have a long talk with her when she was sober, but at that time, he knew what she really needed was someone to help her get some rest. He nudged her door open with his foot before placing her down on her bed.
A soft giggle came from her when he let her go. "T'ank you, Daddeh," she said with a bright smile on her face. He only managed to shake his head. Her eyes were large but dull; he seriously doubted that she would remember any of this when she woke up. "I'ma go to sleeps now. Nite nittteeee…"and almost immediately she had fallen asleep. Every time he saw her do that, he was always amazed. She could just pass out as if she had just been knocked out.
Sighing to himself, he left the room without checking up to see if she was ok. Knowing her, she'd be fine by the morning. Knowing Spike, his ass was either sitting in his room, worrying about Faye, or sleeping while dreaming about worrying about Faye. The man was easy to decipher when you knew what to look for, but he didn't really know what to expect when the full blown fight that he knew was going to happen would happen. When it did happen, where was he going to be? Mysteriously off the ship without a word of where he was going.
Jet slowly walked back to his room. Too much had been going on that day. First Spike woke up, then Spike and Faye got into a fight, then Faye ran off, after that he and Spike got into a fight, and finally he had to go grab Faye's ass from Sex on the Beach, the newest bar in town. He was getting too old for this, and it was hard to admit that the easiest part of his a had been walking Ein, who seemed to have known that something was on his mind, and checking up on Ed, who was now pretty much holding up her own sufficiently enough. Times had really changed, and if anyone told him that this would have been happening about six years ago, he would have laughed in their face asking, 'Why the hell would I let a suicidal ex Syndicate member, a rouge woman with no past, a expert child hacker with serious ADHD, and a data dog on my ship? That's ludicrous!'
The thing was now he thought of those people as his family, and as their father figure, he was the one left to put up with all of their incompetent asses. Yes, this had truly been his dream when he was a child. Oh glorious joy and rapture.
Grunting to himself, he crawled into his bed and lazily turned onto his side. There was only one thing he could really say at a time like this…
"I'm getting way too old for this shit."