Gunshot Serenade

A/N: Behold! Chapter eighteen! I finished it yesterday, but had mucho homework, as I decided to accerate my math course and am now stuck in Geometry for 4 and 1/2 hours every day. But I love you reviewers (and readers) SO much! So here you go!

Dedication: To Alexis and Sony, two of my best freinds. Thanx so much, guys!

Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop. Isn't that right, Alexis? Lol. Just ignore me.

Chapter Eighteen:

Red Dragon Rumba

You and me
Even after everything
You're the queen and I'm the king
Nothing else means anything

-Nine Inch Nails

It almost never rained on Mars.

Spike sighed almost inaudibly as he watched raindrops slither down his window, their glimmering trails sparkling. It was only noon, but it could have been midnight. The sky was almost black.

"The news said this would be the last of the big storms." Amber said from behind him.

He watched her reflection through the window. She was looking at his back, smiling weakly. Spike just switched his gaze back out to the street. It was like looking at a wall of water.

In a way, he felt bad for dragging Amber into this mess. She had done what she was told, and she had paid for it dearly. She had lost everything. Luke, her job, her faith in Alex and the Red Dragons. Everything. All so he could settle some scores.

Spike traced his visage with his eyes, the blurry image reflected in the window. He was getting old. Thirty now, just as lost as he was in his twenties, in his teens. Always trying to find himself, loose himself, run away from himself. A hell of a waste. A waste of a lifetime.

But he had been dead long before he began.

Come to think of it, so had Faye.

"Spike?" It was Amber again. This time, he turned to her, giving her his full attention.

"Yeah?" He replied, his voice gruff.

"Is all of this worth it?" She asked quietly, her big blue eyes earnest and glittering.

He gave her a halfhearted grin. "Would you hate me if I told you no?"

She shook her head.

"No."

Amber nodded silently and let her gaze fall to her lap. Spike, a new weight in the pit of his stomach, turned back to the window.

The silence was oppressive. He didn't let it show.

Suddenly, it was shattered.

The door slammed open, bounced off the wall, and slammed closed again. It was loud, rattled the walls with the force of the blow. When the door was shut, Spike turned around.

And there she was.

She was slouched against one of the doors, her head back, eyes on the ceiling. She was breathing hard, her cheeks pink and lips red. The jeans she wore were streaked with blood, hair in a mess, gun gripped loosely in one small, porcelain hand.

"Faye." Spike smirked as he said it, his voice flat, perfectly masking the cold fear creeping down his spine.

Jinn was gone, and Faye was bloody.

Apparently, things hadn't gone as smoothly as he would have liked.

Faye's eyes suddenly snapped their focus on him, and he had her complete attention. Her eyes were sharp and fiercely green, painfully direct.

Beautiful, in the most frightening kind of way.

"Spike." She matched his smirk easily, bringing her gun up lethargically to level it at his head.

His smirk became a grin. "I see you lost Jinn somewhere along the way." He observed.

"Bang…" she nearly whispered, letting the gun drop to her side.

"Did you shoot him?"

Faye laughed grimly. "No. It was your stupid buddies that did the shooting, this time."

Spike nodded, letting his face fall flat once more. He trained his gaze on Amber. She felt his eyes on her and looked up, an eyebrow sweetly quirked.

"You want me to go find him." She said quietly. He smiled and shrugged one shoulder. She snorted and her eyes fell to the side. When they locked with his again, there was amusement in them.

"He always liked you better," Spike reminded her.

"He's at the end of the hall," Faye said suddenly, still watching Spike intently. "I left him there."

Amber raised an eyebrow, giving Spike a look, before she stood. "I'll go get him. Is he dead?" This question was directed at Faye, and Amber's voice was cold.

Faye gave her a semi-bitchy sideways look. "No." She spat.

The brunette grabbed her hat from the desk and tucked it into her coat pocket, pulling her gun out, apparently to make room. She checked her clip quickly.

Full.

She clicked it back in, and Amber Beaumont was gone.

Spike turned his eyes back to Faye.

"She's a real gem." The woman said scathingly, rolling her eyes and letting a sigh escape her lips.

"So are you," Spike replied, his voice light and more than a little mocking. She shot him a glare. He grinned and moved forward to his desk, opening a drawer and pulling out one of the three guns he kept inside.

Faye watched skeptically as he released the clip, letting it fall into his palm and placing it on the desk.

"How far behind you were they?" Spike asked as he found another and snapped it into his gun, clicking the safety off and back on again.

"Down the hall." She replied smartly.

He shot her a grin. "Good."

Faye raised an eyebrow. "If you like to get shot, maybe."

"Luckily," He countered, only teasing a little, "I do."

She gave him a wry smile, running a hand through her hair.

"I noticed."

Faye watched him as he worked with his gun. Checking the clip, wiping a bit of dust off with his thumb.

It was the Jericho.

The old one that had survived just like him. A dent in the middle, but still working perfectly.

They were having a conversation, but she wasn't following it. Her eyes were on his hands as he set down the gun and pulled another out of the drawer, doing the same for it as he had the veteran.

Faye voiced a concern.

"They know I'm in here. They'll come to get me."

Spike grinned. Faye crossed her arms just under her chest.

"No they won't. They'll wait until we leave."

"Why?"

He glanced up at her, met her gaze for a fraction of a second, then returning to his gun.

"We don't have anywhere else to go."

She couldn't help but smile.

Faye moved forward to sit in one of the guest chairs, half to rest and half to be nearer to him.

Spike paused a moment, then set the gun down and pulled out yet another.

"How many do you have?"

"Three," he said, amusement is his voice. "Take one."

"I've got one, thanks."

Spike smiled at her, mischief in his eyes. "Everything is better in pairs."

Faye sighed and pulled one of the guns to her, making sure not to touch the Jericho. She could see in his eyes that it was the one he wanted her to take, wanted her to hide so that none of this is like that other time.

That time when he died.

So she took the miscellaneous one on purpose. Maybe to punish him, or maybe just to let him know it wasn't over yet.

Spike smirked at her and she smirked right back.

He knew what she was trying to say.

Spike tucked one of his guns away, clicking the safety off of the other. He threw her a grin.

"Ready?"

"Where the hell are we going?"

"The roof. The Swordfish is parked up there." He came around the desk, headed towards the door. When she didn't get up, her glanced at her over his shoulder. "You coming?"

"If you insist…" Faye drawled, standing almost lazily and glancing over her guns.

"I do," He replied, reaching into his pocket and pulling out what looked like a grenade. "Just follow my lead."

She saluted him sarcastically. "Sure thing, Capitan."

Spike winked and opened the door.

Blood was everywhere. All over her dress, her hands, the floors and walls, the steps stained crimson.

Green eyes watched her, their vision clouded.

"Amber…" His voice was raspy. Blood trickled from his mouth. Holding back tears desperately, she wiped the red away.

The skin was stained.

A violent sob shook her body. "I'm so sorry, Jinn… Just… just hold on…" Tears fell, diluting the already painfully thin blood on the floor.

"Amber, stop." He smiled. The spaces between his teeth were flooding with blood.

She gagged. Tears slipped down her cheeks.

"I called the doctors… They're coming, I promise…" She managed.

"If it was gonna happen," he coughed viciously, "It's best this way."

"You're getting married, Jinn! You're having a baby!"

Laughter. Soft and pained. He spit up blood.

"Just promise me…"

She grabbed his hand, holding it tight. "Anything." She insisted tearfully.

He laughed again. She winced.

"Just bring pictures… of my daughter. If you can. To the grave?"

Amber Beaumont covered her face with her hands and sobbed.

So much blood.

The second Spike and Faye stepped out of the office, there was a blaze of gunfire.

And it wasn't them firing the guns.

By some kind of miracle, they moth managed to tumble out of the doorway and under the closest desk, occasionally firing a useless shot as they fell.

Faye hit the ground hard, rolling under the thick wooden desk. She could hear bullets lodging in the piece of furniture. They didn't make it through.

As Spike joined her, tucking one of his guns away, he grinned.

"You know this is your fault, right?" Faye spat, her voice just above a whisper.

Spike was digging through the pockets of his trench coats as he answered. "Whatever you say, Faye."

Faye smirked and peeked above the desk, firing four shots.

Every one of them missed.

She fell back to the underbelly of the desk, her pulse racing and her ears rattling.

Spike smirked at her.

"Why are thy still firing when the bullets aren't getting through?" Faye asked, checking the barrel of her gun for damage.

"Eventually," Spike replied, pulling out a grenade, "One will."

In one smooth movement, he pulled the pin and tossed the explosive over the desk.

Faye listened, wide eyed as the gunshots ceased, replaced by shouts between the Dragon enforcers.

Spike grabbed her ankles suddenly, pulling her across the carpet, flat on her back. She cursed as the rug burned her back.

The pain was forgotten suddenly as Spike made himself comfortable on top of her, pressing the air out of her lungs.

His breath was hot on her ear as he whispered a countdown.

"3…2…1…"

As his voice faded, a new noise took its place.

An explosion.

Faye winced, trying to block out the familiar sound and the masculine screams that came with it.

A hundred somethings thunked into the wooden desk.

Before the thick cloud of smoke left behind by the grenade had time to descend on them, the pair were on their feet, Faye being dragged around the desk.

As they reached the point where they could survey the damage, Faye gagged.

It had been a frag grenade.

Four or so corpses were lying, tiny shards of metal stuck in their broiled flesh, bleeding warm blood on the singed carpet. A few more men were dazed, blinking rapidly and clutching upset stomachs as they tried to regain their bearings.

However, a large group of men were unfazed and shooting rapidly from the other end of the hall.

And Spike and Faye were shooting right back.

As Spike's grip on her wrist relinquished, Faye took advantage of the gun he had made her take.

Double the fun... She though grimly, wincing against the noise of gunshots and trying to move sporadically without tripping.

The cartridge of her gun ran out. She cursed and dropped behind another desk, bullets on her tail. A she seared her pockets for an extra that wasn't there, dual explosions drowned out everything else.

Spike slid down beside Faye, panting slightly but unharmed by his grenades.

"So far, so good." He muttered, reloading the Jericho and shooting her a sideways glance.

She smirked, "For us, anyway."

He laughed quietly and was gone.

Faye's eyes lingered momentarily on the spot where he had been, her mind racing.

A bullet crunching through the desk brought her out of her reverie.

Furrowing her brow, Faye popped up, taking down the gunman and ditching her empty Glock under the desk, dodging out into the hallway.

Spike was moving quickly through a clump of bodies towards the end of the hall.

Faye followed.

This time, there was almost no opposition. Everyone was either dead or stunned by the grenades Spike had bestowed upon them.

As Faye finally reached, panting, the spot where Spike stood, she bent double.

"Let's never do that again," She said between breaths.

He just glanced down at her and smiled.

The elevator door dinged open.

Alexander King heaved a sigh, fiddling with the silver cigarette case on his mahogany desk.

Stupid man, that Spike.

A stupid, stupid man.

Cocking his head, Alex watched as the light caught the case, carving a dragon in a blaze of light on the ceiling. He counted days. A smile touched his lips.

It had been less than a week.

Life sure happened fast.

Flicking the case open, he pulled a cigarette and lit it, taking one drag and then letting it burn on its own. The smoke spiraled. Alex let his mind wander.

If Spike would go to such lengths to protect the Valentine woman, he wouldn't think twice about leaving the Dragons. Whether the girl went with him or not was trivial: he would be gone by morning. The phone call he had just received confirmed that.

But why not twist the knife?

Why not make Spike suffer like he had?

After all, Alex paid him well. It was his right. Why not get rid of Faye Valentine, let Spike think he was free to live his little nightmare, and then pull him back? Because he would come back.

Alex had millions of woolongs worth of equipment in his basement that guaranteed Spike Spiegel's return to the Red Dragons.

No matter what.

The cigarette was only half spent, but Alex crushed it on the desktop anyway, brushing away the ashes to see the scorch mark.

Spike Spiegel was a very stupid man.

Alyssa Delamater had a problem. That much had become clear.

She sighed and glanced sideways at Jet, sitting next to her in the back of a cab.

He stared straight ahead.

Her eyes shifted back out the window.

She didn't love Rhint. Not anymore. Maybe she never had.

But now, she knew.

Shit.

Faye sat on the floor, slouched in a corner of the elevator. The pad of her index finger ran gently over the cool ease of her gun. Green eyes flickered to Spike's face.

He stood against a wall, watching her through half-lidded eyes. One hand was tucked in his pocket. He grinned.

"Why are you doing this?" Faye asked.

Spike shrugged one shoulder.

She glanced away, focusing again on her gun.

He didn't know. After all this, he didn't fucking know.

Maybe she had expected something different. In her wildest fantasies, maybe she had known something other than questions.

Maybe.

Her mind raced silently for a moment.

Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Did she love him? Maybe.

Did he feel the same way? Maybe.

Was he really on her side? Maybe.

Was he going to whisk her away unharmed to another planet? Maybe.

Should she trust him? Maybe.

Maybe meant no.

Faye heaved a sigh and let her head roll back, eyes moving to the ceiling.

Maybe meant no.

No, no, no, no, no.

Spike moved slightly and they locked eyes. His face was empty, his gun was full, and he had never had a heart.

Damn it.

"You know," Faye drawled, standing languidly, "It would have been easier just to kill me in the Casino that night."

She smiled a dazzling smile. He smiled back.

"What are you talking about, Faye?" Spike replied, cool.

"I think you know, Spike. Why drag me up to the roof? Want me to end like Julia did?" She spat.

He looked taken aback for a moment. An emotion flickered across his face. She couldn't identify it.

"You know you're crazy don't you?" Spike was joking.

Faye wasn't.

"You didn't know I knew, did you?" She said quietly, emotions seething under the surface of her skin.

"Knew what?"

"That she died just like this. On a rooftop somewhere. I watch the fucking news, Spike!" By the end of the sentence, she was screaming.

He might have been stone.

"This doesn't have anything to do with her." He said quietly.

Faye smirked. He couldn't even say her name.

"This has everything to do with Julia." She stressed the name viciously, watching something dark move through his eyes. "None of this was for me, Spike. You're trying to fix your mistakes. I don't mean anything to you." Her voice was full of venom, soft but bursting with bitter disappointment.

She should have known better.

All these years, and she still jumped in like a little kid.

Faye opened her mouth to speak again, rub more salt into the wound, but her words were stillborn. She didn't have the focus to say what she wanted. She honestly couldn't believe how angry she was.

But holy shit!

A fist slamming into the wall of the elevator was good enough.

The elevator jerked to a halt. Faye nearly tripped, hand wrapping around the bar bolted to the wall to keep from falling. She looked up at Spike.

He took his finger off the stop button. A grin formed on his face.

"Did I ever say you meant nothing to me?" He tilted his head to the side, dark eyes regarding her.

Faye righted herself, running a hand through her hair. She looked to the ground, searching frantically through her memory for a single moment.

Tons of times she had felt it, known it, seen it in his eyes and believed it. But he had never said it.

"Yes." She fired anyway, sure he had and she just couldn't remember.

Spike laughed softly. She saw him shake his head and press another button. The elevator was moving again. He watched her for a long moment. When she met his gaze, he smiled.

"I lied."

The elevator dinged.

The doors slid back to reveal a half flooded rooftop.

Spike's hand was wrapped around her forearm, and they were off.

Alex pushed open the door, happy to leave the smell of sulfur and burning flesh behind him.

He paused, quirking an eyebrow.

Shit.

"Amber." He said, voice flat.

She didn't hear him. She was crying too hard.

Alex could see why.

"Amber!" He said it again, louder. His voice echoed up and down the stairwell.

She looked up at him, tears trailing down her flushed face. Alex grimaced. She really didn't look very attractive, all covered in blood and tears.

Disgusting, really.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, tossing it to her. She caught it.

"Clean yourself up, Amber," Alex said shortly, eyes glancing over Jinn's still bleeding body, sprawled on the stairs. "Your shuttle leaves in two hours."

"He's dead…" She sobbed, wiping her stained hands with the beautiful square of fabric. Alex watched, distaste on his face, as red streaked the kerchief.

"I realize that. Just go." He shook his head and turned away, beginning his way up the stairs. "I have work to do."

As Alexander plodded up the cement stairway and Amber's sobs faded in the background, he smiled and began whistling his favorite tune.

Spike knew he was pulling Faye too hard. He could feel her straining against him as they ran, stumbling through torrential rain across the rooftop.

But he wouldn't let go.

Couldn't let go.

One yank changed that.

Suddenly, Faye was out of his grip, pulling out her gun, backing away. Spike skidded to a halt on the asphalt, turning to face her. He heaved a sigh.

Once again, he found her gun pointed at his head.

Spike glanced quickly around him. He was standing near the entrance to the stairs, knowing Alex, the worst possible spot. Faye had moved away twenty feet, shaking most likely from a mixture of icy rain and fear.

Wow. Fucking great.

"Faye!" Spike called out to her, pushing the damp hair from his eyes. "We have to go!"

She didn't move. It began to rain harder. Her black hair was falling into her face, stark contrast with the smooth, pale skin. Crystalline droplets of water dripped from the ends, getting lost in the rain. Out of the corner of his eye, Spike could see the gleam of the Swordfish II. He didn't dare move his eyes away from Faye.

"Come on!" He cried out again, offering his hand to her. She shook her head and clicked off the safety of her gun.

Spike didn't doubt she would fire.

So he pulled out his own gun. The Jericho. He could hardly hear the click of the safety being turned off.

"You're a liar Spike!" Faye was screaming at him, and he listened hard. "You lied to me back then and you're lying to me now!"

"Faye! They're going to be here any minute! Can we discuss this later?"

She fired a shot into the air. The bullet cracked out of the barrel. Spike focused on her hand, ivory and trembling as it clutched the metal of the gun. Chipped red nail polish, what might have been blood on her palms, sheltered from the rain.

Water ran down her face, but her makeup stayed on. Waterproof. Whether the droplets were tears or precipitation, Spike didn't care to guess.

The sense of urgency pressing on his mind grew until he was as close to panicking as he had been in a long time.

They had to go.

And they had to go now.

"Faye!" Spike barked, the name snapping out of his mouth and to her ears. She heard something in his tone that shocked her. She furrowed her brow.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Spike heard a melody. It was old, far away and echoing but strangely muffled. His grip tightened around his gun.

"Please. You have to come with me." Spike's voice was softer now, but still loud enough to reach Faye. The pair lingered for a long moment in a strange sort of limbo, guns pointed but somehow fuzzy around the edges.

She was going to give it. He could feel it.

Sympathy for the Devil. That was it. He was hearing Sympathy for the Devil.

Spike snapped back to Faye. Her green eyes were big, rain pounding around her in torrents. She was soaked, shivering. Underneath his trench coat, Spike was dry.

Lyrics echoed in the back of his mind. Strange, that song being played, just the melody, like someone whistling.

Bingo.

Spike felt a grin break on his face as Faye lowered her gun. She watched him for a long moment before looking away.

The sudden slamming of a door interrupted the song playing in the recesses of his mind.

He jerked back to reality, away from Faye, away from the old song, away from his old dented Jericho. An arm came from behind him suddenly, a finger covered his own on the trigger of his old gun, still aimed perfectly at Faye.

The space cowgirl was laughing, shaking her head, watching the rain hit the ground.

Spike's eyes widened.

He opened his mouth to scream as Alexander pressed their fingers on the trigger.

Green eyes met brown.

Pleased to meet you…

Bang.

…Hope you guess my name…

A/N: I know a lot of you didn't want Jinn to die... I'm so sorry! Neither did I, I love him. But anyway. There are only twenty chapters in this fic, so I hope to have it done towards August... Chapter nineteen is called Rooftop Waltz.

I love you guys so much!

Review!

Love,

Lu