Just Like That
"Long time no see."
He looked up from his coffee to see the former vixen sit down, with more care than her younger self. She wasn't as young as she used to be, and tried her damnedest to hide it. Hair dyed to hide the grays (though you could still make them out), make up to hide the lines (though they were still there), and conservative clothes to hide the scars.
(Looks like old age has finally caught up to the both of us, Faye.)
"What are you doing here? I heard you were on Venus, last I checked."
"...That was four years ago, Jet," She says softly, mustering up a smile. Jet watches her for a moment, eyes not as sharp as they used to be, but nevertheless, they capture the frown lines on her face. Most women her age have settled down with a man and had some kids, and have laugh lines on their faces.
(Not you though. I can hardly imagine you as a house wife, even if you've changed.)
"Oh..." he says scratching the back of his nearly bald head. Aside from losing more hair, and limbs (synthetic or no) becoming stiffer, he was the same. Or so he'd like to believe. "Uh...how's Ed?"
"You know," she seems to relax a bit, leaning into the back of her chair, "Same as ever. She's over thirty and still acts like a little brat."
(I can't imagine how she must look...)
"How long has it been since I've seen her...?" Jet ponders aloud, tapping his fingers against his coffee cup. Faye frowns.
"Thirty years. You haven't seen her since she left."
"Ah...that's right," he says laughing at his forgetfulness.
"...Ein died, you know," Faye quietly examines the gold bracelet on her wrist, nearly covered by the baggy sweater she had on. Jet makes a little sound of surprise. "He lived nearly twenty-two years, Ed said."
Jet sighed, shook his head and looked down into the inky well of coffee, his own reflection staring back at him. That dog was smarter than most of the people he knew. He was a bit heartbroken, but knew it must have been for the best. He was with Ed, someone who had enough time for him and kept him out of danger...probably.
"I told her about Spike," she starts again, voice low, as if his name was something only they should hear. "She didn't believe me. She said that it was impossible for him to die."
"...Did you convince her?"
"...After a while. She cried for a long time. I did too," she smiled bitterly. Jet was surprised yet again. Faye had never cried openly about him before. Let alone admit it to him.
"How have you been doing, Faye?" He asks, brows furring together.
"Okay I guess. I've been working with some other bounty hunters."
"Oh," He says, at a loss of words. After Spike had...left...they had all gone their separate ways. Faye had left within the week, and to be honest, he was surprised she hadn't run off sooner. He did some solo bounty hunting, but found he really lost the urge to.
After all these years, a few minutes had given him all of the information he had needed. And now as the silence fell between them, he realized he had gotten over his sadness and didn't really need closure.
"Well, I better get going," she sighs standing. Even though he had nothing to say, Jet felt a pang of sadness returning. It was much easier to say goodbye to Faye when she just disappeared in the night.
She fishes around in her pockets, finally pulling out an envelope. She tosses it onto the table.
"What's this?" He asks, hands still on his coffee cup. Faye smiles.
"Just some money I think I owe you. The guys I work with actually are pretty good at what they do," she laughs. "I'll see you around Jet. I'll tell Ed you said something nice."
"Yeah. See ya, Faye. Take care of yourself."
"I will," and like that, she's gone, disappearing into the crowd about the cafe. Jet stares at the envelope through the steam of his coffee. He rises out of his seat and makes to leave.
"Money's on the table," he says to the young waiter.
"Thank you, sir."
As he steps into the crowd, hands in his pockets, he swears he could see a wiry young man with messy hair wave at him, but just like that he's gone, and Jet walks away.