Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I'm REALLY sorry it has taken me so long to update! I have been super busy and fighting writers block. Add to that the fact that I think my computer is getting ready to crash and not even CPR will bring it back to life and it's been a fun few months!

Without further ado...THE BULL RIDING!

Disclaimer: Blah blah blah. If it's cool it ain't mine. That should cover pretty much anything I could get sued for...

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Faye found Spike bent over his saddle, squinting at the leather of his severed girth. Though dusty, he appeared unharmed, and she thanked god for that. When had he come to mean anything to me? The thought was unbidden yet present.

"Spike? Are you ok?" Her voice trembled as she approached a softly swearing Spike. Ignoring Faye, he twisted the leather this way and that, inspecting the tear. Just as Faye got ready to ask again, he threw the saddle to the ground in disgust.

"Someone cut the damn leather. Wait till I find out who did it..." He stalked off with murder in his eye when inspiration hit. Spike moved so fast that one second Faye was following him, the next she found herself pinned to the fence by the weight of his body. Spike had a hand on one of her shoulders. His other hand was slammed against the fence next to her head with his nose inches from hers.

Blood colored eyes peered intently into green ones. She could feel his breath on her face. "Faye, answer me truthfully. If you lie, I'll know." The low gravelly voice caught Faye's attention. "Are you in any way responsible for this? Would you stoop this low to win a bet? Or were you pissed at me for trying to keep you out of the events?" His voice was as careless as ever, his face devoid of emotion. Only the narrowed eyes betrayed his stronger emotions.

"The hell I was Cowboy!" Slapping his hands away she began to stalk away. "Goddamn jackass, thinks our little bet meant that much to me...just when I was starting to like him too. Honestly, men are such babies!"

Faye didn't see the small rock in front of her until stepping on it made her fall. With a tiny gasp she felt herself falling before strong arms caught her from behind and pulled her to an equally strong chest.

"I had to ask. Are you ok?" Faye was reveling in the warmth of Spikes arms. How long had it been since she had let a man hold her? Too long, that little inner voice said. With a start, she realized Spike was calling her name.

"Are you there? Hello?" Once more blood red eyes peered in to hers, this time in concern. Hastily Faye righted herself and stood. She decided to forgive him for that question. After all, she would have thought the same thing.

"C'mon Cowboy lets get your saddle fixed."

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"Our last event of the day, ladies and gentlemen! The bull riding is here! Now the object here is for our competitors to stay on the bull for eight seconds. If they make it to the timer, their ride will be judged. Highest points wins. Here we go!"

A chute at the end of the ring swung open. Together a bull and cowboy flew out, both fighting for control. The bull gave a mighty leap and twist. Seconds later the cowboy hit the dirt with a thump.

Spike glanced at Faye from the corner of his eye. "Are you sure you want to do this? You don't have anything to prove, you know." He tipped his head back and exhaled from his cigarette, looking as if her answer meant nothing to him, when in truth it mattered a great deal.

"Stupid question Cowboy. Have I backed down yet?" Her demeanor was cool and aloof, though it felt as though slimy worms had taken up residence in her stomach. Faye had drawn Malice, rankest of them all. Her eyes drifted to where they were loading him in the chute. Most bulls loaded without a problem, knowing their job began when the chute opened. This bull was three thousand pounds of black hide and muscle looking for anything to sink teeth, hooves or horns into and fighting the whole way to the chute.

Faye shuddered as he launched another wrangler through the air with his massive head.

Meanwhile Spike was observing his own bull. Not to be outdone by Malice's antics, Bone Cruncher was throwing a fit of his own. He winced as the brindled body slammed into the rails creating a clang that could be heard over the crowd.

"Faye Valentine, in chute four!"

"That's me Cowboy. Ready to be my slave?" With a wink she slipped away from Spike and lowered herself to the heaving black back. After slipping her left hand under the strap she raised her right hand.

Deep breaths Valentine. Deep. Relax. The scent of leather and cow manure filled her nose. Breathe again. Quelling the squirmy worms in her stomach she tucked her chin to her chest and gave a quick nod. Malice came out like hell on the hoof. Faye concentrated on snapping her body with the bull's movements through the pain in her shoulder and the blood oozing again on her leg. The bull started into a rear and switched halfway up spinning to the side nearly unseating Faye. She held through the next few bucks and the horn blew signaling eight seconds.

Beat that cowboy. Strength and speed my ass! Just then the pickup men pulled her from the black hell that pitched and rolled beneath her.

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A man leaned against the stand, hiding in the shadows. He had just seen the awesome ride by Faye Valentine. Lighting a cigarette, he took a moment to reflect on the situation.

This is going to be harder than I thought. Finally I have some worthy adversaries. I know Speigel has nine lives, but who is this woman with him? She goes by the name Faye Valentine, but that can't be her real name. I need to find out who she is, her real identity.

Something about her is familiar, like there's a locked door in my mind and the answers are behind it. Eerily, hauntingly familiar...

No matter. Everyone has his or her weaknesses. I only have to watch and I'll learn them. Eventually, even the best make mistakes. I'll be waiting when they do...

The figure dropped the cigarette and faded into the crowd once more. He could wait. He had all the time in the world.

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Spike's jaw dropped to his chest. Where the hell did a girl learn to ride like that? Not only had Faye stayed on the bull for the full eight seconds, she had done a spectacular job of it. He would have to ride better than spectacular if he were to beat her. At the moment he and Faye were tied in their bet. Whoever won this event would win their bet. The thought of her waiting on him hand and foot made him even more resolute. There was no way he was going to wait on Faye!

With grim determination Spike slid his hand beneath the strap. For extra security, he twisted the strap a few times and pounded his fist into place. This was called a 'suicide grip' and for good reason. Though it made it less likely to loose your grip, it was also harder to bail in a hurry. He pushed that thought to the back of his mind. Desperate situations called for desperate measures. Breathing deeply a few times he pushed all thoughts out of his head of Faye, their bet, and the deliberately cut girth on his saddle. Calmly he raised his arm tucked his chin and nodded.

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What happened next varies depending upon whom you talked to. Some say Bone Cruncher snorted flames and screamed like the hounds of hell. Some said he was possessed by a demon. Some said he was a man hater ready to kill at the drop of a hat. Others said that he was just a damn good bucking bull.

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The chute swung open in slow motion. For a moment, Bone Cruncher stood stock still, as if he was surveying the crowd and deciding if they were worth performing for. Apparently he deemed them worthy. Shooting out into the ring at a dead run he immediately launched into a series of back breaking bucks. Twisting in mid air he swapped directions and lunged forward.

Though his body was taking a beating, Spike's heart was soaring. Not only was this bull giving him the ride he needed, this was fun! Resisting the urge to let out a whoop he put his spurs to work, raking them up Bone Cruncher's shoulders and back again, further enraging the bull.

Bone Cruncher began to bellow in rage and bucked harder, except now he was swinging his two and a half foot head topped with six foot horns trying to hook the man on his back off. One horn caught Spike's sleeve and tore the fabric, leaving behind a bloody scratch. It seemed like an eternity to Spike but the horn blew signaling eight seconds.

Letting out a huge whoop and holler Spike released his hold on the strap and prepared to land on his feet.

Spike let go but his hand was still trapped in the suicide grip.

Bone Cruncher sensed he had been defeated. With another bellow he looked for something vent his rage on.

His eye caught Spike dangling from his back.

His lethal horns swung in Spike's direction.