Disclaimer: Don't own Cowboy Bebop and any and all corresponding characters.
He had always had a knack for getting into trouble. He told himself that trouble usually followed him and the snide voice that wouldn't go away was quick to remind him that he more often than not went off gallivanting as it were straight into the foray. He then argued that he did not gallivant.
At which point he would realize he was indeed arguing with himself and that was not conducive to a healthy working environment. Actually Faye wasn't, but he'd be damned before he said that aloud anywhere she might hear. Not out of fear. No, no he wasn't afraid of Faye, really.
And a condescending snort would echo in his mind furthering his hatred toward himself. Or as it were, the voice in is head, which made him sound even more insane than he already felt.
Perhaps the problem with everything was that he usually came out of this kind of 'Trouble', the kind that came with the capital T, mortally wounded. Not that he thought it was his fault he wound up on his deathbed more than once, it was everyone else's.
But Faye didn't seem to think that way.
She often didn't think the way Spike thought she should and perhaps that's why he felt himself denying anything remotely resembling attraction.
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Coherency was still far off from Spike when he woke after what he assumed his death, he later muttered about how nice it would be instead of Faye's remedy to near-death experiences. Those often included her attempt at homemade soups and a healthy dose of love in the form of physical violence. Spike had a hard time deciding which was worse.
Hauntingly familiar humming bled through his system; it was enough to jar him into wakefulness. He opened bleary eyes to an expectant face. Raw disappointment filled him when instead of seeing the lean face and high cheekbones he saw a small pixie with sensuous lips. No long golden hair and pale thin hands, just a short violet mop and tanned work roughened fingers.
Spike couldn't bring himself to compare the eyes he knew would be staring back at him. Because although he could find many faults with Faye, he couldn't find a thing wrong with her eyes. And the sardonic little voice he often ignored often said they were prettier than hers.
That's when he usually went looking for Jet's stash of whiskey.
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As was common, Spike could be found training. Who his imaginary sparring partner was often a debate between the remaining patrons of the Bebop. Going through long ingrained kata, he found, was the only thing that settled him.
Those little bonsais would be dead in five minutes if he ever tried Jet's methods. Thankfully he steered clear of anything to do with Faye and habits, as those usually ran on the ambiguous side.
Calming or not, it only worked when a certain green eyed vixen was not stuck in his head. And the snide voice was a jeering background that he could have done without. If it wasn't bad enough that he felt something more than friendship towards the woman, the voice had to go and taunt him about it.
Spike heard a noise. A noise he long associated with the coming of Faye. It was something he tried to break her of when the agony became too much and forgotten, never forgotten but afflicted, memories threatened to swamp him. That peaceful humming. A tune he never thought he'd hear again. And he hadn't, not from the lips of the woman he wanted.
She was named after the song. On the rare night she would stay with him and hold him against her breast he would say it was named after her, that she inspired it. As only a woman like her could inspire a song like that. Her low throaty laugh wouldn't mock his poetic declaration, but he felt as if she was indulging him.
But damn if he wasn't petulant enough to soak it up and demand more. More of her attentions and more of her love.
Then along came Vicious.
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As bounty hunting goes, he caught a few lost a lot but in the end felt better about himself. Why? Because denial was a very good thing when you had a lot to deny. Like say a growing attraction. To Faye.
That in itself was inadmissible to anyone other than the sardonic voice in his head. That wouldn't shut up. Ever. Even in the deepest alcoholic stupor, which he found a new record of just last week, the voice would be there lilting along usually in a falsetto pitch about how lovely Faye looked tonight and wouldn't he be a gentlemen and ask her to dance. He politely refused. With as many curse words you could stick between 'fuck' and 'you'.
He'd found a new record for that too he's sure.
If he ever felt the least bit lonely he could always insult her in his mind and there the voice would be gallantly defending her virtue against his evil ways. Spike was easily amused now a day with the bounties slipping through the system and out of his pocket.
Either that or it was the malnutrition.
He was sure whatever it was it was affecting his eyesight as currently he saw his long lost love standing before him in all her angelic glory.
Spike said only her name before the beautiful specter disappeared, leaving him with a hand outstretched, and a pleading look on his face.
For once the voice was mercifully silent.
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He had to admit, she refused to give up in the face of defeat. Faye sat across from him, more scantily clad then usual.
That of course he could attribute to them playing a little poker. The kind not found in casinos.
It was the last resort, as they had no money, no food and certainly weren't going to bet anything to do with any ship –they had tried once and it didn't end up prettily.
Spike eyed her bare legs with a grin, cigarette hanging casually from his lip. While he would never admit it out loud, the sight of those legs never ceased to set his blood pumping. Among other things.
While normal conduct would lead to what he knew would be a pleasurable night indeed, fate threw itself bodily in the way in the form of Ein. Under the circumstances neither felt the inclination to ignore the dog as was per usual, but instead both attempt to get up at the same time. Resulting in collision that left more than his ego bruised.
The voice was screaming at him to take advantage of the situation, and while his hands started creeping Faye slipped away to Ein. He lost his chance to a dog. Another male he could understand, well not really, who would turn him down? Spike didn't even lose to another woman; he lost to a pudgy little four-legged thing. A common one at that, not even worth the wulongs spent on his food. Which kept disappearing faster these days.
As he headed shirtless to his room he turned one last time to the woman he tried to ignore and found her uncharacteristically cuddling Ein to her chest a longing in her eyes he didn't bother to acknowledge.
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Even in his dreams he couldn't find respite. As they seemed to haunt him with images of two women he would rather forget. A forked path would appear and both women chained to the end of each and even though he always chose the fair haired love of his past his dreams turned dark and stormy instead of hazy and light like he was accustomed to. Being with her always put his mind at rest, at least in his dreams; in waking he would be tortured of her last words to him.
Instead of choosing his past, he chose an uncertainty that he was sure to regret in the morning. He chose Faye.
And upon waking the nagging little voice he expected to gloat was mysteriously absent. It was the first time he'd had a clear mind in months and he was going to make the best of it. By getting properly wasted.
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Choosing his poison carefully, Spike wondered toward the back of the dingy bar he'd chosen for his first day free of the constant nagging. And although he had to deal with Faye, he was very thankful he didn't have to hear the voice telling him to look deep into her eyes. As far as romanticism goes, Spike didn't. He long ago gave up seducing women with baubles instead focusing on charm and wit. While it was more ruffian in nature, it got him far.
Slamming back the drink he decided his thoughts weren't happy enough. What could he do besides buy another drink? Nothing he was willing to think about doing. Sighing in inebriated bliss, Spike made his way outside. His amazing motor skills were put to use as he hung onto the grass for dear life.
Now that he was so completely and utterly drunk that he was sure his liver stopped functioning properly, he admitted if only to himself that he needed her.
Spike needed Faye.
And what a time to have this epiphany as here she comes indecently swinging her hips as she pleased. If he weren't afraid of falling off the planet –which one was he on again? - he would push himself up and greet her properly. Even when his eyes rolled back and he sank into oblivion, he noticed her bright green eyes.
They were rather pretty.
Not that he'd tell her that.
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As day became night and Spike woke from his bout of fainting that he'd never admit to, and why couldn't he get drunk at night Jet screamed instead of wasting daylight to do as he pleased. He'd wanted to argue that the only pleasing he'd done was in bathroom by himself but found the thought wholly inappropriate, for once.
As he isolated himself in his room to wait out the hangover currently pounding away, Spike found a rather cozy spot against a wall. Or rather a hard spot against a wall with a cozy body pinning him there. Logic wasn't his strongest suit.
She whispered things in his ear that no woman had spoken to him before and this he would admit out loud that he loved every second of it. She then brought down his little euphoric moment by telling Spike that if he every said those words to her again that she'd well, she'd figure it out. But pointed a threatening finger at his chest and declared it would be bad since now she had more time to think.
Faye stormed down the hall in a huff and he couldn't help but be drawn to certain parts of her anatomy.
He guessed, slipping four extra strength Tylenol down his throat, that he wouldn't ever be able to rein her in. And while his consciousness wavered he admitted that maybe that's not such a bad thing. After all, the fun is in the chase.
Saddened for a moment he also admitted he didn't plan on living very long either.
Even though he'd come so far, and could not and refused to go back, he couldn't let himself love her like he'd loved Julia.
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This is the fic that never ends, yes it goes on and on my friends! Some author started writing it not knowing what to do and she continued writing it forever just because this is the fic that never ends! It started out as a 200 words drabble and then multiplied ten times. Kinda like the blob, except it doesn't eat people. Yet. Any and all mistakes are my own as I decided to give my beta a break.
No, Spike isn't crazy and this happens throughout the series not after the end. So yes, Spike dies and they never get together. As I said earlier, it started out as a drabble. Feedback is very much appreciated.
Tell me what your likes and dislikes, and so no one asks, this is a one-shot.
Ladee in Red