~Fallen Seraphim~
~Shadows of the Past~
A small girl, barely a teenager. Clothes that fit the description of some type of uniform. A yellow shirt, the letter "U" placed on the left…a purple skirt. A backpack containing…books…I guess…I don't even remember…The girl ran up a hill, passing tree after tree, the trunks separating the various driveways of the houses she ran past. The angle of the hill began to lessen, a large house…no, mansion residing at the top.
The girl stopped at the gates, she turned her eyes back towards the hill she just climbed. The row of white houses lining either side of the street, the deep blue ocean glittering in the distance, the light of the sun dancing off the waves. The bridge headed to its destination: the horizon, beyond what the eye could see.
Turning back towards the house, she pushed the gates open and ran through the courtyard. The fountain in the center spraying her with soft mist. Stepping onto the porch, she reached up to open the door. Before her hand could reach the handle, the door swung inward, revealing the tall, slender figure of a woman.
"Mommy!" the little girl cried, flinging her arms around the woman's waist.
"How was school?" a soft, warm voice asked. The little girl looked up, into a pair of gentle, emerald eyes.
"You won't believe what Stacey did…" the voice faded into the farthest reaches of her mind. The dark abyss of her memory that she couldn't reach. A void within her mind…
Faye's eyes snapped open. The black nothingness that she saw soon materialized into her room. The same dismal room that she awoke to everyday…everyday for the past eight months. Why do I stay here? Her mind kept asking. She just ignored the question; every time it came up, she ignored it. What was the point of trying to answer a question your mind kept asking?
She knew the answer; deep down she knew the answer. I just don't allow myself to think its true. I can always say that I have no place else to go. I'm not staying here because of… It's preposterous! But…
Pushing the thoughts to the side, she knew what she needed…she needed a drink.
- - - - -
"Tell me something Spike, how do you lose three million after you just nabbed ten million?" Jet was positively furious. Spike just merely stared back at him, all the while trying to image Jet with a tail, a pitchfork, and little red horns. A slight smirk appeared on his face, causing Jet to become even more vengeful, if it was possible. "You think this is funny? We needed that cash! That guy was money in the bank."
"We've got money in the bank, if you don't remember. We've got over five million in the bank and you're worried about three?" Spike blurted out. Jet was known to be a bit overly dramatic when it comes to money, and it did get tiring from time to time. "Besides, he was a small fry."
"If he was a small fry, you should've been able to handle him. You got an excuse for that too?"
"Uhh…it's Tuesday, does that count?" Spike asked sarcastically. Jet groaned in frustration. Ending the fight out of desperation, he dropped into the chair and ran his metallic hand across what hair he had left. The two sat in silence, neither saying a word; neither needing to say anything. Jet knew Spike was right. They had enough money to be able to live decently for a while; and they didn't have to worry about food for the time being. But Spike also knew Jet was right. Tindera wasn't that big a bounty; he and Faye should have been able to handle it. But somehow the entire thing went to hell in a hand basket faster than it takes Faye to spend her share of a bounty.
The slight squeak of a door opening drew both men from their contemplative moods and turned their eyes in the direction of the sound. They caught a glimpse of Faye walking towards the hanger. Jet opened his mouth to say something, but Spike cut him off with a dismissive gesture. Jet silently closed his mouth, and silence once again filled the room, only to be broken by the sound of the hanger opening and the departure of the Redtail.
Spike rose to his feet, silently withdrawing a cigarette and his lighter. "Don't ask," he muttered while he lit up.
"Since when do you give a crap about her?" Jet asked, a slightly confused look pasted on his grizzled face.
"I said, 'don't ask'," Spike replied, but he knew that would not get Jet off his back. "Just…let her be for the time being," he answered while he walked towards his room.
- - - - -
Lights…lights is what this place needs, Faye thought as her gaze drifting across the dark and dingy bar. The soft, hollow sound of a tenor saxophone could be heard as it floated through the smoke filled air. The musician sat on the opposite side of the bar; his quartet of a bass, drums, piano and himself set up on a small stage. She turned her gaze down at the empty glass before her, then signaled the bartender. Gren was better.
The bartender walked over to where she sat, bottle in hand. He glanced at her face then left the bottle on the counter. Turning her attention to the bottle, she noticed the date. 2062. "Good year," she muttered, lifting the bottle and filling her glass. Yeah, I was still an ice cube, what a great year.
"Ma'am?" a voice asked from her right side. She looked over her shoulder, expecting to find a sleazy, stout, man with slicked hair and missing teeth. Instead, she met the green eyes of a man that looked about twenty-five, wearing a pair of black dress slacks, a dark blue dress shirt, and a black jacket swung over his right shoulder. "This seat taken?"
"No," she answered somewhat harshly. I don't exactly feel like company right now…single woman, bar, bottle of vodka, take a hint! "I don't think I'll be too entertaining."
"Don't worry about it," he replied, gesturing towards the quartet on stage. "That's what they're for." He signaled the bartender who came over quickly, his hands holding a glass and a rag. "Scotch, nothing less than twelve years old." The bartender turned, checked a few labels, and found what he was looking for. Turning, he placed the glass on the counter with the bottle.
Faye stared at him for a moment. As he reached for the bottle, his black hair spilled across his face. He filled the glass, then pulling back an errant strand that had covered one of his jade eyes. His eyes…something about his eyes…
"You okay?" he asked. He waved his hand before her eyes then asked again. "Hey, Faye, you okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine…" she started, then realized what he had said. "How do you know my name?" her eyes narrowed.
He grinned slightly and took a drink. "I know a lot about you Faye Valentine," finishing of the rest of his drink, he set it on the counter. He removed a few bills and placed them next to the glass, then handed Faye a card. "It's such a common name…do you ever wonder what the real one is?" Faye's jaw dropped and instinct kicked in; her hand slid to her pistol. "There's no need for that. Tell me, do you want to know what the real one is?" He pointed at the card. "Meet me there tomorrow, at 10 o'clock."
With that, he spun on his heels and strode from the bar, Faye's eyes were fixated on the back of the man…a man with a link to her past.