Participant Observation

Fieldnotes 2: Pretending Life with Spike (Epilogue)

By Starzki

Lisbeth returned from the game dirty but satisfied-looking by mid afternoon and the Bebop took off to track down a possible tip from an informant on Io. In the den area, Spike had finally found a comfortable position on the couch that didn't pull or prod his new injuries. He was relaxed and glad to be getting away from Shy and that pit of a city. Cross off one more place on Mars that held physically painful memories of bullets and blood. Another fabulous failure: no bounty and another hole in his body spelled business as usual for Spike. He felt himself settling comfortably back into his typical amused-yet-cynical disposition.

Just as his eyes closed and he felt the pleasant levity of sleep overtake him, he heard the lock of the door disengage and the grinding steel mechanisms of the rolling door opening as someone entered the room.

Spike opened one eye and saw Lisbeth slowly lift one leg, then the other, over the step into the room. Then, rather than absentmindedly strolling or confidently striding through the room as she usually did in equal measures (sometimes both combined in one pass), she gave concentrated careful steps down the stairs and to the nearest chair. She was scrubbed fresh, smelling of lavender soap, hair damp and straight, wearing a clean t-shirt and shorts. She sat heavily, creaking the aging springs within the chair, groaning and gasping dramatically.

"Moving a little slow there, Silva," Spike observed. He was meanly satisfied that he was not the only one experiencing pain as a result of the past two days.

"I'm not in as great a shape as I thought I was," whined Lisbeth sulkily. "Plus, I'm not talking to you."

"Oh, really?"

"Nope, not at all."

"What? Did I fuck up your research or something?"

"No. I'm just sore and grumpy." Then, turning her attention away from her exhausted, aching muscles, she looked at Spike sleepily. "And you know, you don't ever have to worry about my research. No matter what, I take care of it. Just do what you normally do. Please. It would fuck up my research more if you notice it too much. Anyway, believe it or not, your getting shot was a well-planned-for contingency."

"You planned that I would get shot?"

Lisbeth gave a weak laugh. "No, Silly. Not you specifically. But my committee was obsessed with how to deal with death and injury while doing participant observation on cowboys. I have Plan B's, C's, D's, all the way through Plan J."

"So you'll eventually report on the whole thing?"

"Probably. Somewhere, somehow. Speaking of which, I should go type up my fieldnotes for this one." Lisbeth looked at the door at the top of the stairs, shifted in her seat. Then, her right leg started to spasm and vibrate, the heel tapping on the ground in quick beats. Lisbeth gave the offending leg a quizzical look. "Hmm. That's probably not good. Ok, leg. We'll sit for a couple more minutes." Immediately, the leg stopped twitching. Lisbeth chuckled at her rebelling body and settled back in the chair.

Spike gave a mild snort, identifying with having a stubborn body that would scoff at every request the brain made. The two sat in injured silence for a couple of minutes before Lisbeth reminded Spike, "Jess said wants you in to a doctor by tomorrow."

Wanting to immediately change the subject, Spike caught Lisbeth's eye and said, "Yeah, yeah. She talks a lot."

Lisbeth snorted through her nose. "Can you believe that she never said 'boo' in high school? Plus, she was a bit punchy last night. Residency is long hours and no sleep. We were lucky she was at home."

"She had nice things to say about you."

This comment earned an outright laugh from Beth, followed by a groan as she clutched her sore ribs. "Jess knows me way too well. Considering all the dirt she has on me, that is one girl I'll never make an enemy of. But it's good to know she's sharing the nice stuff." She snickered again.

"Jess said you didn't go into research to study bounty hunters."

Lisbeth turned her head to Spike, smile fading. "No," she said dreamily, a thin thread of regret in her voice.

"What did you want to study?"

Lisbeth shifted uncomfortably and scratched an eyebrow before she responded. "Domestic violence."

"Then why are you here with us now? I know we're not exactly 'functional,' but we're not all that violent to each other," said Spike, trying to keep the mood light.

Lisbeth rewarded him with a small smile. She looked embarrassed, confessing, "I don't know. It was hard. There's a whole lot of recent literature out there that I would bury myself in. I wouldn't leave the library for weeks. And it's not an easy thing to keep thinking about every day. It got to where I would want to cry myself to sleep every night." Lisbeth avoided eye contact with Spike. She scratched her nose and finished, saying, "I've done enough crying. I decided not to do it any more, at least for a while. So I switched to something that's interesting but that I'm not so…" she searched for the right word, "…connected to. I'll get back to it eventually."

Spike noticed Lisbeth's darkened expression, the sadness that stole into her eyes, and didn't press the issue further. He nodded and gave her a half-smile, which she returned. Then, Lisbeth groaned mightily as she attempted to stand. She succeeded on her second attempt and began to shuffle toward the door to begin typing up her fieldnotes before she forgot any of the details.

"By the way, who won the game?" Spike asked the hunched, retreating figure as he settled back into the couch to catch some winks before dinner.

"We did," said Lisbeth brightly, weakly pumping her fist in the air. "I scored. I've been invited back to play with them officially." She gave a tired chuff. "Maybe in another month when I'm not so sore." She continued on, but not before saying, "And don't think I'm going to stop nagging you to see a doctor about that shoulder, Spiegel."

Spike rolled his eyes at the comment before falling away into a happy, pain-free, unconsciousness.

A/N: This is the official end to the Pretending Life with Spike episode. A couple of days after I posted the last one I realized I didn't hit a couple of points I meant to, so I thought a short epilogue would take care of it. Unfortunately, it didn't come trippingly off my fingers, and with life and computer problems, it didn't get done until just now.

One quick comment on the story: I know that it's typical in movies, television, stories, etc., for couples to do their initial romantic bonding over a gunshot wound. That was not my intention with this story. There will be nothing more than flirting and "professional" friendship between Spike and Lisbeth.

I just wanted to say thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. I really appreciate the time you take to let me know what you think. And thanks for being so nice to me and to this story. I read some of the stuff that others write and feel so inadequate and embarrassed to post. But, I'm addicted to the reviews and will continue to post if only to get feedback.

Finally, with my other "real life" work beginning to pile up, I may only get the chance to write and post when my muse wrestles me to the ground and forces me to write. I still have ideas and stories to tell. It'll be the actual writing them down that will take a while. So please bear with me. Happy reading! -S.