And We Meet Again...

FLASHBACK

Spike opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling of his small room in the syndicate headquarters. Whatever time of day it was, it was far too early to be awake. He sat up slowly, trying to to jar his throbbing head, and checked the clock that glowed softly in the darkness.

10:48 AM. What time had he and Vicious finally gotten home from the bar last night? It had been late ... and he'd been too drunk to remember. Which explained his current massive hangover and the resulting bad mood.

Spike slid out of bed and dressed slowly and automatically in his classical jeans, yellow t-shirt, and leather jacket. He was reluctant to wear the stuffy black syndicate suits, and made a mental note to try and find some formalwear slightly more suited to his style.

He switched on the overhead lamp and picked up his ancient Jericho from the table, examining it. It had been old when he'd first gotten it, and that had been years ago. There was no way he'd ever want to use any other kind of gun, but he wanted a newer one that wasn't about to fall apart.

Spike slipped the veteran weapon into his pocket and stepped out of his room. A pause to listen revealed the faint soudns of snoring coming from Vicious' room across the hall - apparently his partner was still sleeping off last night's drinking binge.

The hall lights were almost too bright on Spike's sensitive eyes, and he squinted as he headed for the elevator. Each footstep jarred his aching head. Once in the elevator, he leaned against the wall, pointedly ignoring the goon he shared it with. He still couldn't tell all the goons apart - in their black suits, they were practically interchangeable. Which was probably the point. Spike had no intentions of ever being a goon. Someday, he vowed, he'd run this place.

He exited the elevator on the eighth floor, leaving behind his companion. Almost automatically, he counted the doors until he arrived at the compound armory and shooting range. Maybe decimating a paper target would make him feel better. And maybe he could replace that gun.

The shooting range was empty, as most of the Red Dragons preferred to practice either first thing in the morning or late at night. For Spike, ten A.M. was early in the morning. He headed through a set of sliding glass doors into the armory, where a bored-looking girl sat behind a counter. Approaching, with a gentle click he placed the Jericho on the counter.

"I'd like to get this replaced," he said quietly.

The girl looked up from the magazine she'd been reading. "Oh, hello, handsome," she said cheerfully. Spike winced. Her voice was way, way too loud for his ears. Hangovers sucked. "What model is this?"

"Jericho 941," he replied, still quiet, hoping she'd get the hint. However, she was impervious.

The girl took the gun and examined it critically. "I can see why you want to replace this old thing," she continued loudly, voice grating on Spike's ears. "I'm surprised it hasn't misfired on you already. Here, let me get you something a bit more suitable for a real Red Dragon." She vanished into a back room briefly, then emerged with a gleaming gun in her hands. "Here you go. Brand-new Jericho 941. And here's a concealable holster and a few boxes of ammunition."

"Thanks." Spike took the gun, then unzipped his jacket and carefully slid on the holster. The new Jericho was truly beautiful, he concluded, far more so than the girl who'd given it to him. The girl who added, "I take it you're new here. What's your name?"

"Spike." He loaded the gun, then slipped the rest of the ammunition into a pocket.

"My name's Miko. You can come by any time you need something, you know. I'm usually here. I hope I'll be seeing you around?" she asked hopefully.

God, the girl was annoying. "Yeah," Spike muttered. The new gun was definitely more attractive than she was. He wanted to test it out, not listen to her prattle. "Look, I'm gonna go shoot for a bit, okay?"

"Don't forget your earplugs!" Miko trilled.

"Huh?"

"Earplugs," she repeated, holding out a box of the things. "If you'll be practicing a lot, you don't want to damage your hearing. I know it sounds silly, but Yenrai-san doesn't want anyone getting hurt." She giggled - a high, artificial twitter, rather than a real laugh. "I wouldn't want you to get hurt!"

Spike gave her a don't-bother-me look and gingerly took a pair of earplugs. Blissfully, he inserted them, muting out whatever else she had to say. Turning his back on her, he went back through the sliding glass doors into the firing range.

Several of the lanes were already set up for use. Spike picked one, unloading his ammunition on a small table, and set the target at a medium distance away. One carefully-aimed shot at a time, he emptied the magazine into the target. There was something almost soothing about shooting, although the recoil of every shot only made his head throb worse, dampening any therapeutic effects the range might have.

Spike checked the target. Of the sixteen bullets in the magazine, eleven had hit the target, three of them in vital places. He'd even gotten one into the sniper's triangle. Still, he had a long way to go before he could consider himself a marksman. If yesterday's training had taught him anything, it was that.

He emptied out the old magazine and loaded a new one and tried again. This time, five bullets hit critical, three of them neatly clustered in the target's "forehead." He was doing better, but decided to take a short break.

Sitting down in a wicker chair, Spike rested his elbows on his knees and lowered his aching head, silently swearing never to try a potboiler again. There was a reason why they said not to mix drinks. He'd just stick with whiskey. Whiskey was safe.

Finally, he rose to his feet and picked up the Jericho again. It was difficult getting used to the new gun, but he gladly welcomed it. With the old one, half the time the bullets had flown off-target, and the recoil had been obscene. Using this new gun was like making love to a beautiful woman, except without the mess and the 900 woolongs spent on flowers and dinner beforehand.

Spike set up a fresh target and raised his gun one more time. Before he could fire, however, five shots blasted over his shoulder and made five neat holes in the center of the target's "head," shredding it. Spike practically jumped around. "What the-"

Standing behind him (he'd fired the bullets right past his head! What if one had hit?) was Mao Yenrai himself.

Spike relaxed, but another part of him tensed up. The older man smiled and removed his earplugs, and Spike followed suit.

"Excuse me, sir," he said respectfully, trying to remember protocol through his hangover. "I didn't notice you were there."

"You have much to learn," Yenrai said, eyes twinkling. He gestured to the new gun. "But I see you already on your way. We appreciate initiative and self-improvement here."

Spike nodded, hazily trying to mentally grasp the polysyllables. He'd come here for target practice, not to talk with his superior.

Yenrai held up his hands. "May I see your new gun?" he inquired. Although it was phrased as a request, Spike knew he had no chance but to comply. Regretfully, he handed over his new Jericho.

Yenrai turned the weapon over in his hands a few times. "An interesting choice. I had often wondered why you picked this of all guns, but I suppose each man has his own peculiar turns. There is a problem with the catch, however. Do you know how to fix it?"

"Problem with the ... what?"

Sighing, Yenrai gestured back to the chair. "Sit down. I will teach you." He vanished into the armory, then shortly reappeared with a small service kit. "You will learn to care for your weapon, Spike. It is very important that you do so. Here, let me teach you."

Spike hadn't planned on talking, and he definitely hadn't planned on an improptu lesson. Still, despite the hangover, he found he was fascinated by the gun's mechanics as they dismantled it and went over the functions of every part.

"You look terrible," Yenrai observed as Spike, armed with his new knowledge, reassembled the gun.

"Out late, sir," Spike said, carefully screwing the plate on over the handle.

Yenrai nodded knowingly, and for a brief second Spiek caught a glimpse of the man's own memories, of a time long ago when he too had been young. Then, the spark of nostalgia was gone.

"Do you want to know a good hangover remedy?" Yenrai asked. When Spike nodded, he rose again and headed to the small bar behind the firing range. He returned, and place on the table an egg, a pepper shaker, a bottle of ketchup and a bottle of Worcestershire sauce, and brandy.

"Now watch carefully." With the ease of skill and practice, Yenrai separated the egg yolk from the white, discarding the white and depositing the yolk into the glass. On top of that he added a pinch of pepper, a dollop of ketchup, a few drops of Worcestershire sauce, and two fingers of brandy. "I know it looks foul, but it'll cure any hangover you've got. Now drink," he commanded.

Gingerly, Spike took the concoction and swallowed it before his tastebuds could protest. "This is really gonna help?" he asked dubiously.

"Patience!" Yenrai said jovially. "You kids have no patience. I know I never did. Now, get up with that gun of yours and try again, will you?"

Self-conscious with his boss watching him, Spike picked up the Jericho and rose, then approached the target. Aiming carefully, praying that he wouldn't screw up with Yenrai here, he fired off three shots.

All three clustered within inches of the holes Yenrai had placed earlier.

And better still, Spike discovered that his hangover was completely gone. The sound, lights, and movement ceased to bother him at all. He turned, and basked in Yenrai's nod of approval. "What was that thing called, anyway?" he asked.

Yenrai smiled. "A prarie oyster.

---------------------

Slowly waking up, Jade rolled over. WIth her head pounding, she sat up in the bed. Looking around blurry-eyed, she rubbed her eyes and then it her that she wasn't in her own room. A feeling of panic quickly passed as Jade realized she was in Rocko's room. She couldn't remember much from the previous night besides her going to Rocko after a startling conversation with her sister.

Getting out of the bed, she quickly picked up the undershirt that had been abandoned and dropped onto the floor. Putting it on quickly, Jade looked around for Rocko. "Rocko," she said, waiting for a response. For some reason, she couldn't remember what they had done, but had a rather good idea of what it was.

Rocko peered in from the other room. "You're awake." he said, although that was obvious. He smiled at her. "I didn't think you were ever going to wake up." He had been up for an hour and had passed the time by watching a bit of TV. "hungry?"

"You could have woken me up if you wanted," Jade said well walking over to him. She put her hands on his shoulders and smiled. "Yes, actually I am hungry."

Rocko grinned, "You just looked so peaceful in your sleep." He wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her close. She was like a dream come true to him. "We can go out and grab something if you like." Rocko wasn't much of a cook.

"Well I would, but.. I don't have anything to wear and my room is just so far away. As long as you have some toast and maybe some fruit, I'm fine. Plus I'm sure your cooking is excellent." Jade had never felt this way with anyone else and normally avoided such relationships, but she was drawn to Rocko. She hadn't completely accepted her feelings, but she certainly couldn't stop them.

"I'm sure it's not," Rocko replied, "But toast is fine." He picked her up and carried her towards his small make-shift kitchen. "I think i have a toaster in here somewhere," he said with a laugh. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten in the room.

Ignoring her pounding head, she laughed watching him fumble around in the kitchen. Jade couldn't find him anything else but adorable as he looked for the toaster. She felt special, being pampered like this. "Thank you for this Rocko," she said. There wasn't any other place she'd rather be right now.

Rocko stopped and turned around. He just stared at her for a moment, wishing he knew the right thing to say. "Jade..." he said softly..

"Yes?" she asked. Blinking at him, she wondered what had made him stop. Did she do something?

Rocko turned back to the toaster, attempting to plug it in. He felt his face flush slightly - he was horrible at this type of thing. "How many pieces did you want?"

"Two is fine, thank you." Walking over to him, she put her arm around his waist. Jade wouldn't question him on the awkward moment, all though she was curious. Watching him, she smiled to herself.

Rocko breathed as the intensity of the moment seemed to be released. He put two pieces of toast into the toaster and pressed the button down. He only hoped he could at least make toast. Once finish, he wrapped an arm around Jade's chest and pulled her close.

Nuzzling her head into his shoulder, she let it rest there. Feeling the warmth of his body, she sighed. Jade loved this moment, and this feeling of being able to give herself over to someone completely.

When the toast popped up out of the toaster she went over to get them out. "I can finish it, how much toast do you want?" she said with a wink. Opening up a cabinet above, she reached up and pulled out a plate like she had been living there all her life. Pulling out the toast, Jade placed them on the plate.

Rocko smiled, "Just a couple of pieces." He really couldn't believe this was happening. All this, in only a few short days. He reminded himself to thank Vicious for teaming them up.

Rocko hadn't expected things to go this way. He had thought she was attractive, but he had anticipated a fling or maybe just some heavy flirting. Jade had seemed so cold when they had first met. Now it seemed like things were moving so fast. He wouldn't complain though. He had never felt like this before.

"Well, okay," Jade said as she popped two pieces into the toaster. Heading over to his mini-fridge she dug around, and took out what appeared to be butter. Normally she would put jam on her toast, but butter was fine.

Opening up the few drawers that were in his mini-kitchen, she found the silverware and got out a knife. Spreading the butter on her toast, she then piled them and cut the toast diagnolly so that the pieces looked like triangles. When his popped out, he repeated the action, but put them on a seperate plate she got out. "Here you go," Jade said as he handed him his plate. She wasn't sure where they could eat it.

This was such an odd thing for her, to be 'preparing' food for someone else and in such intimate settings. She wondered what would happen after the assignment was over, but pushed that into the back of her mind. There was still another question lurking though, if they had done it.. or not. All most positive that they did, Jade didn't want to ask.

Rocko took the plate and led Jade back into the living area. He sat down on the couch and indicated that she should too. Last night had been wonderful, but he didn't want to push anything on her, and let her decide if she wanted to sit with him or not.

He took a few bites of the toast, but he wasn't that hungry. Setting the plate down, he watched her. He felt uncomfortable then, mainly, because he had no idea what to do or say, now that they had been together.

Sitting next to him on the couch, she quietly munched on her toast. Jade could tell he was watching her, but she didn't look at him, instead she stared at her plate. Setting it down, she looked at him. "I should get going soon... Maybe later we can research the card though."

Rocko nodded, "Alright." He stood up, and helped her up. "I'll get your dress, and then call you later, ok?" He leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips. "I had a good time last night, Jade," he finally said.

"Yes, okay thanks.." She paused, biting her lip, "Rocko, we did engage in uh, you know.. last night, right?" Jade felt her cheeks flush a bit, her mind was still fuzzy as to all the details the previous night.

Rocko stepped back. Did she not remember? Or did she want to think they hadn't. He simply nodded, too shocked that she didn't remember to speak.

"The details from last night are still a little fuzzy," Jade said quickly, trying to explain herself. Maybe she shouldn't have asked and just assumed they did, at least it wouldn't have caused Rocko to step away from her. "I need to get my shoes.." With that she shuffled off to the bedroom.

Rocko watched her go, feeling confused about the situation. Then her behavior today had nothing to do with last night? And was that a good thing or a bad one. He didn't know. He walked towards the bedroom and stood in the doorway, silently watching her.

Grabbing the shoes quickly, she approached him slowly, not knowing what to do now. She needed her dress, but he said that he would get it. Jade didn't really want to leave, but she didn't want to stay with this awkwardness now.

Rocko suddenly remembered the dressed, and quickly rushed to the closet to get it. He handed it Jade, "don't forget this," he said, forcing a small smile. The tension between them now was huge, and he wished he could go back to five minutes ago.

"Thanks," Jade replied with the same forced smile as him. "Umm, I guess I'll be going now. I'll return the shirt soon." Kissing him softly on the cheek, she headed for the door. Stepping out, she closed it behind her. Not paying attention, she took steps and bumped directly into Vicious. Shit, she thought to herself. Jumping back, she clung to the dress in her hands. "I'm so sorry, Vicious.."

Vicious turned slowly and stared at Jade. He was in a bad mood - Julia was still being difficult, and even though she agreed to meet with him, it was not on the terms he wanted. "What are you doing?" he asked, although he cared little.

Jade blinked. He didn't seem to be in a good mood. "Going to my room," she said blankly, trying to cover up any embarassment.

Vicious frowned, but said nothing. He turned to walk away, then turned back, "You are prepared for our visitors aren't you Jade?"

"Of course, Vicious. They will feel right at home," Jade said with a little smirk. She didn't enjoy being caught like this by Vicious, but he didn't seem to care. Jade stood there for a moment in the silence and then said, "Well, I should be getting back to my room..."

"Any reason why you weren't there in the first place?" Vicious asked. He needed to speak with Rocko, who hadn't been answering Vicious's calls. There were things he needed to discuss with the top syndicate members before he went to see Spike.

"Rocko and I were discussing things involving the Blue Snake assignment you put us on, that is all." Jade felt uneasy with his questions, and her head wasn't helping. Shifting her feet a bit, she waited for his next move well wondering why Vicious had been going down this hall way anyway.

Vicious eyed the dress, "Discussing the assignment without your clothing on?" Although Vicious cared little for the personal lives of those who served him, he decided he wanted them to be honest with him, as much as he felt there was nothing wrong with betrayal. He frowned to himself. Yes, there were definately differences when it came to being on top of the syndicate as opposed to under the Van. He would have to think about that - when there was more time.

"We were discussing it the previous evening, and I spent the night," Jade replied calmly. She had to admit that was she was getting annoyed, and when she got annoyed she could be disrespectful. Reminding herself that being disrespectful wouldn't help the situation, she calmed down a bit. Jade let out a silent sigh, wondering when the questions would end.

Vicious simply nodded. He should have expected as much. "You can go," he said waving his hand and turning to continue down the hallway. "Just see to it that this doesn't interfer with your assignments or your judgement, Jade."

"Good day, Vicious, and it won't interfer." After replying to him, Jade quickly shuffled off to head back to her room. She needed to shower and get dressed. Plus, there other things to attend to. Maybe she could talk to Rocko later, but that would have to wait.

----------------

Cloria pulled the hood of her coat over her head. She wanted to get her bearings on the situation before she just announced herself to Tristan. She trusted him, but that didn't mean she didn't need to be careful. The last thing she needed was for Kael or anyone else in the blue snake to see her.

She stepped into the Prancing Pony and glanced around at the bar, quickly determining that Tristan wasn't there yet. She moved to the back, and found a seat facing the door. She waved off the waitress, preferring to wait until Tristan arrived before ordering anything. She wasn't even sure if he'd show up.

Prancing Pony... Prancing Pony... Dammit! Why couldn't anyone in this damned city give good directions? Already fifteen minutes late, Tristan was thoroughly annoyed. Five more minutes passed and Tristan found himself looking up at the sign of the Prancing Pony in relief.

He walked in, unsure if she was even there, with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. Sandy-blonde hair was quite messy from the constant movement of running his fingers through his hair--a nervous habit--but it suited him. It was sort of like the 'sexy bed-head' look. Keen eyes quickly picked out Cloria in the crowd and he grinned, hurrying to join her. "Sorry I'm late. People around here can't give directions to save their life," he apologized.

Cloria's expression stayed neutral when she saw Tristan come in. He approached her table - obviously even with the hood on, she wasn't well disguised. "You're alone?" she asked, looking around nervously. Maybe she wasn't ready for this. She hadn't seen Tristan in two years, though, and she fought to keep from rushing to hug him.

"Of course," he said quietly, eyes an interesting shade of blue. Not quite blue and not quite grey--somewhere in between, actually. Tristan tilted his head a bit, a frown knitting his brow. "Don't worry, I wasn't followed. You should know I'm careful about that stuff," he murmured, trying to put her at ease.

Cloria nodded and stood, "Then give me a hug!" A smile crossed her lips as she moved around the table and fell into Tristan's arm. "I really have missed you so much." It was comforting, being there with him. They had been childhood friends, and between the two twins, Cloria always felt like she and Tristan had been closer.

Tristan smiled and held her, arms wrapped around the slender body. "I've missed you to. It's good to see that you look so well," he admitted and then pushed her back a bit so he could better look at her. "You really are in good hands, aren't you."

Cloria nodded, "I am Tristan. And I'm happy. I have a man and friends and something worth fighting for..." She smiled up at him. "I may miss you, but I don't miss the syndicate." She glanced away for a moment. "And right now, it's the last place I want to go."

Affectionately, Tristan brushed his thumb over her cheek and smiled almost sadly. "I understand," he said, his voice soft. The full force of her words hit him like a ton of bricks and Tristan looked startled for a moment before covering it. "A man, huh?" he asked with a grin, playfully nudging her. "Cloria... you sexy thing, you!"

Had he? Cloria decided she must have been seeing things. With a smile, she nodded. "Yes, well, it's something that's just begun and all, but I really like him." She motioned to the table. "Shall we have a drink?" She could really use one at the moment. Seeing Tristan brought back so many memories... memories she didn't ever think she'd have to face.

He nodded and motioned for her to sit again before turning and flagging down a waitress. The cute little redhead that came over to his waving flashed a grin and batted her eyelashes at him. Pretty much oblivious, Tristan smiled politely. "I'd like some rum and my friend here would like..." he said, trailing off as he looked at Cloria. "It's on me so order however much of whatever you'd like."

"Rum and coke, please," Cloria said. Once the waitress has bounced off, Cloria turned to Tristan, "You don't have to do that." 'On me' probably meant 'on the syndicate', and Cloria felt uncomfortable with the idea of owing anything to the syndicate.

He shrugged. "I know, but I want to," Tristan shrugged and leaned across the table a bit. Yes, the money was syndicate money. But it was his. Again with the nervous habit, Tristan ran his fingers through his hair, causing strands to fall haphazardly across his forehead.

"Thank you for agreeing to see me. I, uh, well it's just so good to see you. I can't think of anything to say, really!" he said sheepishly.

"I suppose those were old times we shared," Cloria replied with a smile. "And things will never be the same, even between you and me." The waitress dropped off the drinks, and Cloria quickly took a sip. She needed something calming right now. "Tristan...." she trailed off and looked to the ceiling. "I feel like... I feel like in the end all this is going to come back to haunt me."

"Probably," he agreed, watching her. He wanted to help her but he didn't know how. "I wondered if all of this wouldn't be happening if you had just stayed," Tristan mused softly and then sipped at his drink.

"But then, by this time, you'd probably be married to Kael and utterly miserable. A flower, choked by the confines of the garden," Tristan finished, eyes not meeting hers.

Cloria sighed softly, "It not that. I did love him Tristan, though I will kill you myself if you ever tell him that. God forbid I say anything else to encourage him. It's just - he stands for everything that I don't believe in. A true syndicate man."

Her eyes found their way back to Tristan. "I couldn't have stayed and I can't go back. That way of life is. just. not. me."

He reached across the table and took her hand gently into his own. Tristan looked at Cloria seriously, looking worried at the same time. "I know, Clory. While I miss you terribly, I only wish the best for you. That means that you have to do what you feel is best. But I'm worried for you. There are several members that want you dead," he said as his voice dropped to fall well below the drone of conversation in the room. Even if they'd taken precautions, the walls could still have ears.

"And I don't know who will protect you when they decide to take action."

"My friends will protect me," Cloria replied. Jin, Kade, Sam - they would make sure she was safe. "I think it might be best though, for me to leave Mars. At least Estoria. There are other cities on this planet that I can go to." She squeezed his hand. "I'm more worried about Kael, then any member who wants me dead."

"Some loyalties are more dangerous than you would think," he said cryptically. Tristan withdrew his hand and took a swig of his rum thoughtfully. "So what's new?" he asked, a lopsided grin forming in his attempt at a conversation changer.

Cloria smiled as Tristan changed the subject, "Well, speaking of new things, we're about to embark on a crazy mission to save ... a friend." She took a sip of her drink. "We're probably all insane, but she seems to be worth saving."

He nodded as he listened. "Crazy mission, hmm? Where are you going?" Tristan asked, merely curious. What kind of crazy mission?

Cloria shook her head, "Just to where our friend is being kept." She didn't want to get into the details. "Of course, Jin doesn't want me to help. But you know I can hold my own with a gun."

"Ah, so he's the overprotective boyfriend type then?" Tristan chuckled, finishing off his rum. "How long do you have before this crazy mission?" Of course, he would be worried but Cloria could handle her gun. That much he was sure of.

"Only a few days," Cloria replied. "And yes, he's overprotective. But he doesn't know, Tristan, where I came from."

"Do you think that's a good idea that he doesn't know?" Tristan asked, another frown forming. "I mean, with everything that could happen, wouldn't it be better to tell him now so he doesn't find out from someone else in some nasty little way?"

"This is part of me I want to forget, Tristan," Cloria said, "And I know I have to tell him, it's just hard." The last thing she wanted to do was drag up the past.

He wanted to argue with her but kept his mouth shut. Ian most certainly would have spoken every word in his head but Tristan managed to realize that it wouldn't be a subject she wanted to talk about. As another attempt at a subject change, Tristan smiled a bit and brought the subject to himself and his twin. "Ian and I started a band. Sort of. We aren't very good since we're the only ones who can play any intruments," he said, chuckling.

Tristan and Ian had always been musical. Ian played the guitar mostly but could also play the drums. Tristan was more into the piano, though each twin could play all three instruments well enough. "You could join and be our lead singer!" he declared with a grin.

"I think that's wonderful!" Cloria replied, "And you know I can't sing Tristan." She smiled at him, glad to hear that things were going well for him. "Why don't you tell me more about what's going on with you." So that we can not talk about me.

"Ian's become, well, in good standing with the ladies. I don't get it, myself, since I'm clearly the better looking of us both," Tristan said dramatically, unable to wipe the goofy grin off of his face. "But things are just... I don't know. Normal. I don't think I could live any other way, Clory. It's me. Every part of me. The good, the bad, the in-between," Tristan murmured, trailing off while mentally kicking himself for bringing up touchy subjects again.

"I guess a lot of things have changed over the years but at the same time, not a lot has really changed."

Cloria looked down at her glass. "I suppose things wouldn't be much different..." she trailed off. If she had stayed... She didn't want to bring that up again. "Tristan, I'm glad things are good for you two. You know I always wanted you to be happy." She glanced at the door. "I hope you understand, we probably can't meet again."

He nodded silently, looking down at his empty glass. "I understand," Tristan murmured. He glanced at his watch and then looked up at her. "Guess I should get going and leave you to sneak off into your shadows again," he said as he got up. He moved to her side and reached out with his hand to gently turn her face up toward his and kissed her cheek, lips brushing over the skin. "It was good to see you, Clory," Tristan murmured, a hint of sadness in his eyes.

With that, he released her and walked away to pay their bill. And then he would walk away, leaving her to her life once more.

---------------------

Against all her better judgement Julia entered the syndicate building. Without sparing glance for the gaurd she made her way to the elevator and descended into the basement. For some reason she just had to speak to THAT woman again. Julia took a deep breath and opened the door to the room that served as Faye's prison.

Faye looked up. She had been sitting on the bed humming to herself, trying to pass the time. Her eyes meet Julia's and she frowned. What the hell was she doing here? Faye looked away. "What do you want?"

"To talk," Julia said stepping further into the room. "What is your life like on the Bebop with SPike?"

"Why do you care," Faye retorted, turning around, "It'll never be the same again now."

"I wish I could have seen what he was like there," Julia said bringing a chair closer to the bed to sit on. "Contrary to what you might believe of me, I want him to be happy."

Faye leaned back against the wall, "I don't know what to believe about you. All I know, is that you have this hold on Spike and it's killing him as much as Vicious is killing him." She didn't want to have this conversation - not with Julia, but there was something about the woman that compelled her to answer.

"There is a long history between those two," Julia said closing her eyes and leaning back in her chair. "They didn't use to hate each other. Actually I'm not sure its hatred even now. They both have too much pride and are too stubborn to see any other way."

Faye watched Julia. There was obviously a history that involved her as well. "When I talk to Spike and when I talk to Vicious..." she started, "It feels like I'm talking to the same person." This was not the same Julia who had threatened to kill her. Something must have happened with Vicious and Spike recently.

"They are like brothers," Julia said smiling at the girl. Now that she had put away her initial anger from meeting her, she thought that perhaps they were a lot alike just like Spike and Vicious. "Its both a blessing and a curse to them. This universe isn't big enough to contain the both of them. So now they will kill each other, to finish out their foolish game."

Faye frowned, "I don't want Spike to die." She looked away. "I told him not to go, but he won't listen to me." She laughed softly, "He doesn't listen to anyone."

"Neither does Vicious," Julia said gaining new respect for Faye. "We won't be able to talk either of them out of it. We're just spectators."

"I think we're a little more involved than that," Faye replied, wishing she and Julia had met under better circumstances. "More so than Spike wishes anyway. He's still mad that I went with him in the first place."

"Well, you shouldn't have," Julia said looking the other woman straight in the eye. "When it comes to matters between Vicious and Spike you should just stay as far away as possible. Otherwise you'll only end up getting hurt."

"I suppose you speak from experience then?" Faye replied, nodding her head. She was hurt - in more than one way. "Then, what are you still doing here?"

"I have to finish this as well," Julia said feeling the tears burning behind her eyes. She held her head back refusing to show that weakness in front of this woman. "I'm in it to deep. And perhaps like the two of them, the only way I will gain my freedom is through death."

Faye watched Julia's expression. There was more to this than she had realized. "You love him, don't you." Faye said softly. "He's just too easy to love..."

"He's not easy to love," Julia said brushing at one eye before the tear could fall. "Both of them are very painful to love. But I do. I love them both."

Faye pushed herself off the wall and closer to Julia, "Hey, life is painful. You just have to take the good with the bad." And this was the woman he loved - Faye felt a flush of jealousy at the thought.

Julia eyed the girl warily when she moved, technically Julia wasn't even supposed to be down here, she wondered what Vicious would think if he found out. "There hasn't been many good times around here since Spike left," Julia said eyes the other girl trying to understand the relationship between her and Spike. "I still wonder why he had to leave sometimes."

Faye own eyes continued to watch Julia as well, "He never said, and I doubt he would." She felt her stomach knotting. This conversation was not healthy for her. Especially with Julia, who, although Faye was hesitant to admit it to herself, was the one rivaling her for Spike's affection... and winning.

"They will be meeting soon, and then you will be free," Julia said watching the other girl for her reaction. "What will you do if Spike is killed, trying to save you?"

Faye simply shook her head. "Spike has no intentions of saving me, Julia. Spike has only one goal - kill Vicious." She brushed ran her hands through her hair. "What I do will not change that. They would meet even if I wasn't here."

"They would meet eventually," Julia said looking her over. "But ultimately Spike still feels the need to come to your rescue. Your being captured just sped up this whole game."

"Then he should have stayed home." Faye smirked, "I told him not to come." She wondered though, if what Julia said was true. The messages had been so mixed lately, she wasn't sure what was true anymore. "But does it matter when they meet? The results will be the same."

"Maybe," she said standing up and turning her back on the girl as she walked towards the door. "Maybe not. Only time will tell. "

Faye watched as Julia stood. "So that's it? You come here asking me questions and generally blaming the situation on me and then you leave?"

"No, I'm not blaming you," Julia said looking down at her. "This situation has been in the making long before you arrived. Perhaps I just wanted you to realize that. Or maybe I just wanted to see the other woman. "

Faye raised an eyebrow and laughed, "The other woman. You make me sound like Spike's little mistress." Her eyes hardened a bit. Was that the way Julia wanted to play this? She resolved to learn more about the woman, although she noticed immediately, that she had felt the same way.

"I'm going to see Spike soon," Julia said laying her cards on the table. "Is there any message you'd like me to relay to him?"

"No," Faye replied, "Just tell him you saw me and that I'm safe." She could tell Spike what she wanted herself, but she wouldn't. "And..." She trailed off. "Nevermind."

"And?" Julia prompted her to go on.

"Nothing," Faye said softly. She wished she could leave and go anywhere, but she knew the guards on the other side of the door would force her to stay. "Julia, why did you come here?"

"I don't really know," Julia said smiling at her. "Perhaps I just really wanted to know what Spike was like outside of the syndicate."

Faye nodded, "He's a good guy, Julia. No matter what he tries to tell you." She leaned back against the wall again, exhausted.

"Yah," she said to herself before closing the door behind her as she walked out. "He is."