A/N: Just for clarification purposes, I'm going to do two tales from the past then a present.

I looked up from my whiskey sour as she paused. I smiled at her, seeing her shaking her head ruefully.

We were sitting in a small club, sipping drinks and trading stories from before we'd met, stories of our pasts. Something we had never done before, something I had started with telling her about my eyes that day on the Bebop.

I always suppress a shiver when I think about that day. I had come this close to loosing her, to missing out on this, and I would never have known it either, never known what I had missed out on. It had been her chasing me down and getting me medical aid that made this possible.

"Why stop there, Faye? How'd you do at the tracks?" I couldn't resist asking her.

She looked at me as she sipped her cosmopolitan, an indigo eyebrow arching.

"How do you think, Spike?"

I chuckled. Badly, as she always did. "You need to learn when to walk away, Faye. Pushing your luck is a sure way to loose."

She started laughing at that one. "This, coming from you? Don't make me laugh, Spike. You push your luck more than anyone I know."

I cocked and eyebrow as my smirk grew fully. "What do you mean? I always quit while I'm ahead in a casino."

"But not with your life. How many times since we've known each other have you been dragged back to the Bebop by Jet or me, covered in bandages?"

Now I began chuckling ruefully. She had me, and I was man enough to admit it.

A ballad came on the PA, and I held my hand out to her as I stood. "Would you like to dance?"

She looked at me, like I was playing some grand prank on her, then stood, putting her hand in mine.

It was so different, now. I was still cocky and sarcastic, but when we were out together, it was almost like I was a different person, like we were different people. We dropped the constant sarcasm, the pragmatism and nonchalance. We became two normal people, a normal couple out on the town.

As we start dancing, I look into her eyes and begin to smile, seeing my face mirrored in her green orbs.

Who would have thought that I'd find some sort of peace, and with her of all people?

"Woolong for your thoughts?"

I looked at her. "Just thinking that when we met, women with attitudes were one of three things I couldn't stand, ranking right up there with animals and children."

"And now?"

I grinned, kissed her.

"What do you think?"

He slid his arms tighter around me, pulling me closer. We had both dressed up a bit for this date. He'd tied his tie and turned down his collar.

I put on a flattering skirt and a simple blouse, my sweater draped across my shoulders and left open. I rested my head against his chest, one hand on his shoulder and the other tucked behind his back. A trumpet began to sing out a solo, reminding me of a group I had been fond of as a child. The title of the song tried to come to the surface of my thoughts, but all I could think of was how I felt at this moment.

At peace, for the first time in years I was calm. Oh, I still had moments of anger at him. He was still Spike, after all. I mean, the first thing he told me when he woke up in the hospital was 'You need a shower,' in a voice that hinted at that being the reason why he'd woken up. That man, he was trouble incarnate.

It'd been three months since he'd faced down Vicious. In those three months we'd fixed up the Bebop, returned to the game, with the usual luck. Jet had taken to mainly piloting the ship. His leg just wasn't up to chasing down bounty heads anymore, as he claimed. He spent hours with his bonsai now, trimming and transplanting to his heart's content.

Ed and Ein had wandered back to the ship just before we had lifted off that first time. She had missed the warm bunk she had, and she said that Ein kept asking about us.

How she and the dog talk is beyond me. I've long since given up trying to figure out that child. But she's a big help with the hunt, being able to get into various computer systems and whatnot. I've been tempted to ask her if she can hack into the computers that hold the information on my debt and delete it.

Maybe when we get back tonight. Well, tomorrow morning. I'm sure that we won't be going straight back to the Bebop unless there aren't any rooms available at the local hotel.

I could hear his heart beating, a little faster than the normal slow pulse it usually had. I can't get over that, the fact that his heart still beats a little faster when we're together. I fight a smile, knowing that my heart still skips a beat or two when he smiles that genuine smile of his, not the cocky one, the one that makes you think he has all the answers and just isn't telling you out of spite.

The real one. The one that he only showed me.

Just as he only told me his real name. But I still called him Spike. I'd known him for almost three years under that name, it was ingrained in me. Plus, with his hair, it fit. But it's the trust that he's showing me that makes the little gestures mean so much.

The song ends, and we make our way back to our table. He pulls my chair out for me, something he had never done before that day. I'm pretty sure he means it.

But you never know with him. Sometimes he still has that joking 'Devil May Care' attitude about things.

But I wouldn't have it any other way. Just like he wouldn't dare have me give up my no-nonsense attitude for anything. They were parts of us, what made us what we were, who we were. We fit together like gears in a clock, having gaps that the other filled. He was the stability I needed; I was the spontaneity, the love of life that he had been without. And we spoke the same language, the language of the bounty hunters.

Now, if we could actually collar something besides the small fry.

I wonder how she's going to take the little surprise I have for her later tonight. She's got a pickpocket's eyes, so hiding this from her was quite a trick. I just hope she likes it. I've never had great luck with picking this kind of thing out.

I can still feel the box in my jacket pocket, away from prying eyes of emerald. Inside, nestled in the velvet of the case, was a silver and diamond creation picked out with the discrete help of an old friend of mine. I have it in my mind to slip it into one of the pockets in her sweater on our way to the hotel room.

She isn't the only one with quick fingers.

She catches the look on my face, and perks up one of those delicate eyebrows again. She doesn't even have to say a word, I know she's wondering what's going on in my head.

"Just thinking on how close I came to missing out on this," I say, glad that I was able to lie convincingly since I was five.

"Right," she said, tilting her head forward, her hair framing her face.

Convincingly to everyone but her.

Damn women's intuition.

When did jewelry as a surprise gift become so hard to pull off?