Gunshot Serenade

Disclaimer: Honestly. If I owned Cowboy Bebop, would I be doing this right now? No. Gunshot Serenade would be a movie.

A/N: Yay! New chapter! And in such a short time... A miracle! This is sort of fluff, but the next chapter? Yeah. It'll kick your asses. So enjoy! RxR!


Chapter Eleven:

Telephone Rhapsody

Why do you do what you do to me, baby?

Shaking my confidence, driving me crazy!

You know if I could, I'd do anything for you!

Please don't ignore me!

You know I adore you!

-Josie and the Pussycats

Faye woke up around five a.m. horrified. Her head was pounding, stomach sick. Groaning, she tumbled out of bed, finding herself naked on a cold steel floor.

She hadn't the slightest clue where she was.

Faye groped on her hands and knees for her clothes. She found her dress in a pile with her underwear. She pulled the later on and stood on shaking legs.

The woman stumbled blindly through the darkness, desperate for a bathroom.

Finally, she found one.

She sank to her knees before the porcelain toilet, violently loosing the contents of her stomach. She threw up for a good ten minutes, convulsing in painful dry heaves when there was nothing left. After her body finally relaxed, she collapsed on her back on the frigid floor, letting the previous night wash over her.

To Faye Valentine's horror, she couldn't remember off the top of her head what had happened.

So she mentally retraced the evening.

First, the champagne at the party… And Alex pulling Spike away, Faye waiting on the terrace. Then coming back to Spike's apartment, and then the drinks, and then...

Faye thought she would be sick again.

The kitchen table.

The god damned kitchen table.

Faye groaned again, covering her face with her hands. She felt sicker than ever, despite just having the best sex of her life. Inadvertently, Faye's thoughts drifted back to that table, back to the bed that was too small that they somehow made work.

She moaned in pain, a pit of guilt in her stomach as she rolled onto her stomach, arms circling her tummy.

Lying there on the floor, Faye silently went over her options.

She could always leave. Just throw on her dress and diamonds and walk out. But she didn't want to, not really. She didn't know the way home. And she couldn't leave Spike like that. Alone, in such a big, empty, house.

But she couldn't just pop a breath mint and slip back into bed, either. The thought of sleeping next to him like it was nothing after they had gotten so… personal… made her want to throw up again. She had woken up feeling smothered, and didn't care to repeat the experience.

So Faye found a happy medium.

Faye, barefoot and in her underwear only, tiptoed back out into the living room. She paused for a moment in the doorway, searching the floor for the mattress. Faye located it in the middle of the room, a small, dark lump with Spike's light snores emanating from its center. A smile touched Faye's lips as she padded towards the sound.

In her absence, Spike had taken over the bed. His arms were outstretched and he had rolled to the center. The blanket was around his waist, exposing his toned, scar-dented chest. Faye sat on her knees next to the bed and placed a delicate finger on one silver divot, a light mark on olive skin. Silently, Faye wished she had the time to memorize each and every fucking scar on his body. Put him back together.

Her eyes traced Spike's face, memorizing ever detail of his sleeping visage.

"Spike," She said gruffly, shaking him gently. "Wake up."

He groaned, turning onto his side, facing her. His features were relaxed in sleep.

"Spike," She repeated, tangling her left hand in his hair. "Wake up. I'm leaving."

Spike was up like a shot, propping himself up with his left arm. His face was neutral.

"Why?" He asked, his eyes shadowed.

Faye untwined her hand from his thick hair, dropping it limply into her lap.

"Because… this is… bad." She murmured.

"Bad?" Spike echoed, sounding less that thrilled.

Faye cocked an eyebrow. "Yes," She repeated for his benefit, "Bad."

"How?" Spike nearly demanded.

"I woke up and immediately yakked in your toilet. Bad."

Spike shrugged. "So you can't hold your liquor." He grinned. "I know I wasn't bad enough to trigger your upchuck reflex." A crystalline wink left Faye smiling sadly.

"All I need is a few woolongs for a cab."

He regarded her for a moment. "No." He said shortly.

"So you want me to walk?" Faye said icily.

"No."

"Throw me a bone here, Spike."

Spike, his smile not diminishing, placed the pads of his index and middle fingers under Faye's chin, drawing her close. "I want you to stay here." He whispered against her lips. "With me." Spike's lips brushed her own for a long moment before he pulled away, searching her eyes.

Faye didn't know what he found, but it was enough to get him out of bed and into his clothes. She watched him get dressed from her spot on the floor, a blush painting her cheeks.

"If you really want to go," Spike said, his back to her as he pulled on his shirt and began to button it, "I'll take you home myself." He sounded on the edge of bitterness.

Faye stood and ran a hand through her tangled hair, waiting awkwardly on the other side of the bed for Spike to dress. She sighed almost inaudibly. She could physically feel the gap between them that had been closing so nicely rip back open. They stood awkward and unsure in the wake of something that had been so solid and felt so right, both doubting their motive and their feelings towards each other.

At least Faye was.

Maybe Spike was just putting on his stupid shirt.

Faye, tired of standing around in her panties, pulled on her dress and trudged to the kitchen to reclaim her shoes. She circled the round table and the fallen chairs and hooked her strappy heels with two fingers, not bothering to put them on. When she reemerged into the living room, Spike was waiting, keys in hand. The elevator doors stood open.

Faye took one last look around before stepping inside.

The first half of the ride down was silent as the grave. They hardly spoke two words to each other. The silence that Spike seemed to find comfortable was slowly murdering Faye; she was rapidly becoming unhinged.

Finally, Faye gave in. She had to say something. Anything.

"What time is it?" Faye bit back a curse. Of everything in the world to say, she asked about the fucking time. Fabulous.

Spike just quirked an eyebrow. "Why?" He asked, not even bothering to glance at the watch he wore. "In a hurry?"

Faye shrugged. "You know I'm a very busy girl. I haven't been to work in days. Think of all of the other stuff I've missed." She spruced her nails. "Dinner parties, nights out, dates." She emphasized the word viciously. Faye caught his eye.

Spike smiled his beautiful lopsided smile and reached for the buttons on the elevator. His finger pressed the stop button. The elevator jerked to a halt. Faye regarded Spike coolly as he turned to her, but her heart was racing.

She didn't have a clue what he was planning to do.

Ten seconds later, it was obvious.

"And I thought we were having such a good time, too." Spike said, moving towards her until their faces were inches away. He put his hands on the wall Faye stood against, just above her shoulders, pinning her between him and the wall.

Faye smiled coyly. "You are very self assured, cowboy." She swallowed hard as Spike leaned in towards her.

"But that's what you love about me, Faye-Faye." He replied mockingly.

Faye was extremely aware of his body moving closer to her.

"You know, Spike," She said softly, tracing his features with a soft finger, "For someone who talks so much, you don't actually say a hell of a lot."

"It's better that way." He whispered, leaning in to steal a kiss.

He was almost there when the harsh tone of a communicator ringing broke the spell. Faye must have jumped a foot in the air. Spike just scowled and pulled the object out of his back pocket, moving to the other corner of the elevator.

Faye sighed heavily, happy to be able to breathe again.

"Hello?" Spike said from the other corner, waiting for the picture to come up. Jet's voice crackled at the other end moments before a very angry man's face appeared on the screen.

"Where the hell have you been, Spike? I've been calling all night."

"We've been here," was the simple reply.

"Where's here?"

"My apartment."

There was silence on the other end. Faye quirked an eyebrow.

"Spike…" Jet growled, clearly not happy. "What the shit did you do."

Spike smiled one of his charming smiles. "I didn't do anything, Jet. We'll be back in a few."

Faye smiled as Spike hung up and pressed the button for the parking garage.

"He just pisses me off."

"I know, Lucy. You've told us before."

"I mean, after everything I did for him, and he still pulls this crap? And now he doesn't even bother to call."

"There's nothing you can do about it now. Just eat your waffle."

"How can you forgive him for something like this, Amber? This is the girl who almost killed you and Luke!"

"I'm just like that, Lucy. Now eat."

Alexander King narrowed his eyes at the brunette seated across from him at the diner. He didn't know when she had started calling him Lucy instead of Lucifer, but he hoped it didn't stick.

"Seriously, Amber," He continued. "It's 6:45. Fifteen minutes late. Typical."

"You knew from the second you brought Spike into this you couldn't control him. Why do you keep trying?"

Alex paused to consider, popping a piece of waffle into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully. He swallowed, and then replied, "Because he owes me. Eventually, he'll see that."

"Owes you for what?" Amber inquired, munching on the single strawberry she had ordered for breakfast. "If you hadn't come along, he'd probably be married with a pack of kids by now. Probably to that Valentine girl."

Alex shook his head. "No. They don't strike me as the type who would get married. Not him, at least."

"I think he really loves her, though. Probably has for a while."

"Why do you say that?"

Amber shrugged. "Just now that I think about it. He always hung out around that casino, remember? Would never tell us why. It's not like he ever went inside. Took all of the jobs around it. Took us to lunch in that nice little Italian joint across the street."

Alex took another mouthful of waffle. "I think you have a point." He said.

Amber smiled. "So what are you going to do if he doesn't kill her?" She asked.

"That, Amber," Alex replied, "Is where you and Luke come in."

"I don't like the sound of that."

"I knew you wouldn't."

Jet didn't look happy to see them.

Faye really wasn't surprised. She would be pissed, too if the two people you were worried sick about didn't call and then suddenly waltzed in tousled awkward and clearly hung over. But the venom with which he said, "Spike, I need to see you in the kitchen," was sort of shocking.

Spike just nodded, tucking his keys into his pocket and following Jet down the hall, leaving Faye standing with Ed in the living room.

"What was that about?" Faye asked the teen, who was having a staring contest with her dog.

"Edward doesn't know, but Einstein thinks it's because of Miss Amber Beaumont."

Faye popped a hip. "Who the hell is Amber Beaumont?" She asked through gritted teeth.

"Amber came-a-calling waaaaaaaay late last night. She had a pretty package for Faye-Faye. It was perfume."

Faye perked up. "I got perfume? Where is it?"

"Edward ate it."

"Figures."

"You'll never guess who came around last night." Jet said icily. He was deep frying something frantically.

"Who?" Spike said sardonically from his spot leaning against the wall.

"Amber Beaumont."

Spike's mouth twitched into a half-smile. "Amber Beaumont?"

"Yes. Did a little checking up with my buddies from the ISSP. Amber Beaumont. Charged with fraud, money laundering, attempted murder, racketeering, and three counts of possession of red-eye. Never convicted. I also hear she's pretty influential with the Red Dragons. Now what would a woman like that be doing delivering complimentary perfume to Faye Valentine?"

"Maybe she was doing community service."

Jet was tempted to spatter Spike with boiling oil. Instead, he spoke. "Why don't you give me a straight answer for once, Spike? I didn't ask when you told me some bullshit story about a goddamned cat before you went off to commit suicide. All those years, I didn't ask about Julia. I didn't question anything you did. It wasn't my problem. But this is. The Dragons are going to kill Faye, no matter what you say. You're the one that took her home last night, Spike. You're the one bending over backwards to keep her safe. So why won't you just answer one question. Why is Amber delivering Faye cheap perfume?"

Spike scratched his head. "It's an old trick. You aren't supposed to use your real name, but Amber never did like the whole alias thing. You pretend to deliver something to your hit. Make sure you get the address and the person correct."

"I thought you said she would be off the list?"

"I'm working on it."

"Spike… I hope you realize I want to hurt you very-"

Ring Ring

Spike grinned and held up a finger. "Hold that thought." He pulled his communicator out of his pocket and clicked it on. A very unhappy Alex was on the other end.

"Spike. We need to talk." Alex growled.

"What can I do for you, Alex?" Spike said, glancing up at Jet, who had turned back to his burning lard puff.

"Why didn't you call?"

"What time is it?"

"Six fifty at least."

"Sorry," Spike replied, "I was busy."

"Busy? Doing what?"

Spike grinned. "That's not important."

"I'm making it important. What were you doing?"

"I was driving, if you must know."

"So did you do it?"

Spike looked skeptically at Jet, who was stirring the boiling oil menacingly.

"No," Spike replied, "I never intended to."

Alex went pale. "Very well," He choked out. "I think we need to discuss this topic further. Why don't you meet Amber and me downtown today at noon? Say… the Italian joint across the street from the casino?"

Spike narrowed his eyes, but nodded none the less. "I love that place. My treat. See you at noon." He closed the connection.

"What was that about?" Jet asked, his eyes narrowed into slits.

Spike slipped his communicator away and grinned at the aging man. "I have a meeting." He glanced at his watch. Seven ten.

"With Alexander King?" Jet asked warily, dropping a second mystery object in the pan.

"Yes. At noon."

"What does that mean?"

"At this point?" Spike smiled. "I have no idea."

A/N: Thanks to all of the reviewers! I luv you guys so much, and I know what a pain in the ass it is to review... So thank you all! I really don't think you guys know how incredibly much it means to me, being the vain little twit I am. :)

I really love you guys,

Lucy-Lu