Lucifer's Garden
Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop. But I do own a Sesshomaru plushie... I blame Olivia >.
A/N: Alright! After VERY much delay, here is chapter two! Thanks for not giving up on this guys! I'd like to thank all of the reviewers, especially Olivia (my best bud EVAH! I luv the shirt!) and Swunshine (thanks for all of the e-mails!). Despite all of the delay, this is actually a pretty normal sized chapter... And for everyone who was like "WHA! FAYE and ALEX! I H8U!" (aka all of you :)) there is an explanation in this chapter. I hope you like!
Italics are exerts from Faye's video in Speak Like A Child.
Bold and Italics are her (direct) thoughts. I think there's only one...
Chapter Two:
Diamond Descant
Everything I never liked about you
Is kinda seeping into me
Try to laugh about it now,
But isn't it funny how everything works out?
I guess the joke's on me…
-Nine Inch Nails
Faye Valentine lit a cigarette, her sharp green eyes never leaving his face. He was smiling. She took a long drag and tossed the pack away. She was too tired for this shit.
Silence.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Smoke drifted through parted lips, heavy and curling slowly in beautiful spirals through dead air. Dark satin glimmered in the moonlight that spilled in from outside. The balcony doors stood open. There was no breeze.
Alex began to pace. Faye watched him from her spot on her the bed, following him with her eyes. Untying his tie, unbuttoning his shirt. He wasn't staying. She didn't want him to. Back and forth, footsteps on hardwood floors. She opened her mouth to speak, to break the smothering hush. The words were stillborn.
There wasn't anything to say.
Faye stood, unexpected even to her. Alex pinned violet eyes on her, watching her movements through the gloom. She ignored him, moving deliberately to the vanity across the bedroom. Her half-spent cigarette flared as she crushed it in the crystal ashtray. The diamond on her finger caught the light. A moment of hesitation, but then she was sliding it off, dropping it carelessly to the vanity top.
Behind her, Alex was pacing again.
Back and forth.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Silence.
Today, you are who you are today. You are a newer version of me. Myself ten years from now... That's so far away for me that I can't even begin to imagine!
"You should have told me." Faye's voice cut the heady air like a knife. The floorboards screamed as Alex stood still once more. Green met purple through the three-way mirror. A pearly-white smile.
"It's not any of your business."
Resentment. A little anger. But mostly that heavy sorrow, unexplainable and completely inexpressible.
She had seen this coming.
"Don't you think I deserve to know?" Faye spat, turning her attention from his reflected form to her own. Lips painted red, eyes painted black, hair glossy and thick. Just Alexander King's pretty porcelain doll, smiling and laughing and blushing on cue.
The ends would justify the means. Of that, she was sure.
"Didn't I tell you never to ask about my work?" Cool, almost sweet. But there was that poison, dripping just under his tone. He couldn't stand her.
Faye just shrugged and turned to face him, busying herself with her jewelry. Unclasp, set down. Unclasp, set down. Earrings, a necklace, a bracelet. A mini Christmas tree of diamonds and platinum, flashing fiercely on the slick marble vanity top.
Eventually, he would break. All she had to do was wait.
Back and forth.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Silence.
Am I alone? Or is there a wonderful person next to me? Well, knowing me, I'm sure I am troubling a lot of different people...
Alex was pulling on a new shirt. Black. Graceful hands worked their way up the buttons, began tying an incredible purple tie. He looked amazing. He always did.
They looked amazing together.
He moved towards her then, emerging sharply from shadow. Giving her a little smirk as he leaned forward, he studied himself in the mirror. Faye felt the slow, sweet drag of his fingertips across her arm, only half accidental. Her skin burned where he touched her. She flinched and Alex noticed, hesitating only a moment as he worked at smoothing his already immaculate hair.
"You know I don't care about your work." Faye couldn't help but smile a little. The words were bittersweet on her lips, hanging listless in the air.
"Then don't think about him. He isn't here for you, Faye."
Thick black strands of hair slid forward over her shoulders, hanging like curtains around her face. It wasn't like the news was shocking; she must have known it all along. But then there was that slow, sick emptiness in the pit of her stomach, and Faye wasn't so sure anymore.
He isn't here for you.
Movement. Alex was straightening, heaving a sigh. He rolled his shoulders quickly and something popped, but Faye was past paying attention to him. Her eyes were focused on the open balcony doors and the world beyond them. The Tharsis skyline was glittering.
Back and forth.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Silence.
But that's all right. There's no problem. I will always be cheering you on.
"I hate you." Faye said softly. But she was smiling, brilliant and sparkling. And then Alex began to laugh and she couldn't help but join in. It was an ugly harmony, Alex's almost musical mirth and Faye's frantic, breathless giggles.
"Luckily," Alex was saying, shaking his head as he slid off his own engagement ring, letting it slip from his fingertips, "The feeling is mutual."
Platinum flashed, catching the light as it fell. The ring hit the ground with a clear metallic ring.
Green met violet once more. The laughter faded. Their smiles stayed firm. A moment passed. But then Alex was turning to go, striding across Faye's bedroom with purpose they both knew he didn't have. It was as his hand touched the doorknob he paused.
"Faye."
She cocked an eyebrow, eyes flickering to his beautiful face. "Yeah?"
"Watch your step. You know what's at stake here."
"I'll be fine." Deadpan, but convincing none the less. She almost believed herself.
Alex shot her a sideways glance, a smirk on his lips. "Of course you will." The door swung open and he slid out, snapping it shut behind him. Faye waited for his footsteps to fade away. As they disappeared, she moved forward a few paces then stopped, lingering aimlessly in the center of her bedroom.
Options flooded her mind.
She could scream. She could cry. Suicide was always available. She could run away. Murder Alex and his entire family, smash her furniture, have an affaire with the gardener, max out the credit cards (like that was possible), dye her hair pink.
Faye began to walk, retracing Alex's earliest steps.
Back and forth.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Silence.
And now for a big cheer... from the bottom of my heart!
Faye paused abruptly, the smile fading fast from her lips. A photograph on the bedside table had caught her eye. The details were fuzzy through the gloom, but that didn't matter; she had it memorized. A dozen or so smiling people, all sundresses and sandals, pushing and crowding into the frame. A beach stretched in the background, clear blue water turning white sand brown where they met. And there, in the center, was Faye. Beautiful and young, maybe seventeen. A yellow sundress fell to her knees, thick black hair just past her shoulders.
She had been there, on that beach. And on good days, she could almost remember. The salt, the heat of skin on skin. Names and voices, nothing concrete. The people in the photograph had been special. They had loved her. And she didn't know them.
Faye's eyes fell from the picture to the floor, her mind silently running over what scraps she had of her life. A few pretty shots of water. A house. Running up a hill.
But Alex knew. Alex had a file somewhere, probably in the basement he was always talking about. A beautiful file, full of the pictures and the papers that would tell her exactly who she was. Who she had known, who she had loved. Where they were now.
And for that, she would stay.
Faye Valentine's smile made its comeback then, weak as she made her way quietly into the bathroom. She would brush her teeth, take off her makeup, go to sleep. Just like she did every night. Because when it came right down to it, some things were just more important than Spike Spiegel.
Back and forth.
Breathe in, breathe out.
Silence.
Don't lose, don't lose! Me, me, me!
Alyssa Black knew her husband far too well to believe him when he told her he was fine. Just sitting next to him in the car, watching his knuckles turn white as he gripped the steering wheel too tight, told her otherwise. Something was gnawing at him, and she knew just what it was.
"Jet," She said quietly, dark brown eyes focused out the window. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Was his short reply. Alyssa quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing. He would tell her when he was ready. Whenever the hell that was.
Alyssa sighed inaudibly and leaned her head against the window. The glass was cool against her skin, the streetlamps tossing stripes of golden light on her face as they passed. This was a rough part of town. The underbelly of glossy Tharsis City. All prostitutes and addicts and graphitized walls. It was here the real effect of the Red Dragon Syndicate was apparent; away from the money and the glitz, the strangle hold the organization had on the Martian government reared its ugly head. The people here were blistered and raw, struggling to feed their addictions and their four kids. This place was almost endearing to a girl from the relative slums of Ganymede.
Jet wasn't nearly so fond of it. His steely blue eyes were narrowed, focused exclusively on the almost empty street in front of the car, refusing to even acknowledge the dark shadows the hookers were casting on the sidewalk. Alyssa wanted to comfort him somehow, tell him it was okay. But she knew that wouldn't help. The way Jet saw it, the only thing worse than committing a crime was seeing one and not doing anything about it. It was just the old cop in him rearing up.
"Faye looked beautiful tonight." Alyssa commented mildly, reaching forward and flicking on the radio. Jazz crackled through the speakers, the volume just high enough to be heard over the purring of the car's engine. She had been hoping to dig into Jet a little bit, get him to talk to her. Her plan didn't work so well.
"She looks ridiculous with long hair. I've always said that." His voice was casual but too cold to be genial. Brown eyes flickered to his face. His pronounced brow was furrowed, mouth set in a grim line.
That couldn't be healthy.
"I like it long. Especially since Alex has so much hair. It would be weird to have her marry someone with longer hair than her."
Jet was silent. The blinker clicked on. The car jerked left. Another empty lane.
Bingo. She had found the sore spot. Alex and Faye. Not entirely surprising.
"Don't you think so, Jet?" Alyssa prodded carefully, letting her eyes slip from his face to the streets once more. They were slowly moving into their own neighborhood. Run down apartment buildings and shady corner stores were being replaced by houses, each surrounded by a chain-link fence and sturdy gate. Once the barriers became the white picket variety, they would be home.
She had a little bit longer.
"Sure I do," Jet said shortly.
A pause seized the air, the cracking of the radio all that held the silence at bay. Alyssa nodded and let her eyes fall to the simple gold band that circled her ring finger. Six months now. Technically, they were newlyweds. But it had never felt that way. In their own strange way, she and Jet had been married since the moment they met. There was no awkwardness, no adjustment period. Just the comfort and safety of something old and worn in. All they needed was each other. And that was why Jet's silence was worrying her. If he couldn't talk to her, who else was there?
"Do you think he makes her happy?"
Alyssa's head jerked up, her brown eyes widening slightly. That question was… unexpected. To say the least. She glanced at Jet. His eyes were still hard and cold, focused on the street. But his face was softening.
He was worried.
"I… I don't know." Alyssa answered lamely, redirecting her gaze out the window. She
could hear him sigh, and it was hard for her not to do the same. She could feel a heavy sense of loss descending on them, as suffocating as the grave air outside. Jet's happiness was relative now; tied inexorably to the happiness of his pseudo daughters, his dog, his best friend. And as much as Alyssa hated to admit it, she was invested. So to say it didn't hurt her to admit that Alexander King did not make Faye Valentine happy would be a lie.
"Alex should have asked us," Jet said quietly, reaching forward and clicking the radio off. "You know, for her hand in marriage or whatever."
The engine hummed, filling the dead air as Alyssa considered. The lawns outside were getting greener, the bars on the windows steadily disappearing.
"You would have said no."
"Exactly. Then we wouldn't have to deal with this in the first place."
"It wouldn't have stopped them." She murmured, not really wanting to be heard. It would just upset him to know he didn't have any control, any say. But in the end, it was the truth. There was something strange going on between Alex and Faye, and Alyssa had a bad feeling it had to do with one Spike Spiegel. But she didn't want to think about it like that.
Jet did.
"Spike was there. When they announced it."
"I know. I saw him."
"He'll want to know what's going on. He might call."
"What will we tell him?"
Jet hesitated, considering. The car made an easy left turn, sending the pine-tree air freshener strung on the rearview mirror swinging.
"The truth." He said after a moment.
A smile touched the corners of Alyssa's mouth. "You mean that we don't know?"
Blue eyes met brown for a fraction of a second, and for the first time all night, Jet smiled.
"Exactly."
Spike couldn't sleep.
That didn't really surprise him, considering the less-than-perfect end to his already questionable day. It just left him with a slight problem: how to pass his time. He hadn't thought to bring a book, and the list of authors he respected, or could stand in general, was getting short anyway. The ceiling of the pool house was completely uninteresting, albeit fixed with security cameras, making staring at it for hours on end completely out of the question. And he absolutely refused to just sit in the cushy bed provided for him and think, because God knew where the hell that would lead him. Nowhere good, surely.
So Spike did the only thing he could really think of. Smoke. And to be completely honest, it wasn't all that bad. The night was warm, and Alex's pool was pretty fucking beautiful. A rectangle of pristine water colored turquoise by lights on the sides, it was like a beacon of shimmering blue in the night, bleeding light across the smooth stone of the pool deck. The scent of May flowers was heavy as ever, and the view of the main house was beautiful across a stretch of green lawn. Even with the strange humidity, no doubt thanks to Alex's dramatic tendencies, being outside was still better than the opulent suffocation of the pool house behind him.
A match struck, and for a moment Spike could see beyond the blue haze. But then his cigarette was lit and the stub of the match was in the pool. Back to blue. Standing there, barefoot and shirtless, he relished the smoke as it scraped down his throat. There was some part of him that loved smoking because it was bad for him, relished the knowledge that every drag was bringing him that much closer to the end. But then there was the other part, the part that hated the tobacco clawing at his lungs, making his insides all sticky and black.
He had quit once. The reasons had been unclear at the time and definitely hadn't gotten any sharper with time, but Spike had the sneaking suspicion it was for a girl. Or at least because of a girl. Because sometimes on Callisto, when it was dark and cold and he was really really drunk or really really sober, he missed her.
The woman. Not the cigarettes.
Of course, none of it mattered anymore. Not the girl, not the diamonds, not the bullets wasted on a lost cause. She was engaged. Getting married. And of all the men in the universe, she had to pick Alex King. Just salt in the already stinging wound.
Spike smirked and began to walk, russet eyes on his feet. Footsteps were nonexistent on the cool stone, the tip of his cigarette flaring as he took long pulls. The pain of the evening was sort of fading now, replaced by his trademark numb. Maybe it hadn't hurt all that bad in the first place. Maybe he was just being dramatic, sucked into Alex's vision of the night.
Maybe, when it came right down to it, he didn't give a shit about Faye Valentine.
If anything, he should have been happy for them. One of his better friends and his ex partner… two people he wanted to be happy, right? And it wasn't like he had claimed Faye in any way. Their only romantic encounter had been the result of champagne and the loneliness that came with three years of one night stands. Spike had wanted something that felt real, and there Faye was. They knew each other, at least. Had a little bit of a friendship. And both of them were great at playing make-believe.
Throw in a crazy syndicate leader and you have one hell of a romance story.
He should have been happy. Faye was, after all, fair game. Alex had every right. But then Spike blinked, and all he could see past the darkness was the smile on Alex's face, the red of Faye's lips. The ring on her finger, blinding him.
Happy, happy, happy. Be happy, happy, happy.
Or, at the very least, be cool.
Cool, cool, cool. Spike Spiegel was cool, cool, cool. And the stone on his feel was smooth, smooth, smooth, and the night air was warm, warm, warm, and Faye looked so fucking beautiful back there he thought he would have to kill himself-
But that wasn't important. Because no matter what had happened before, and who had broken which heart, it didn't make a difference. Spike was still smoking, and Faye was still engaged, and he was still calling Jet in the morning to figure out what the hell was going on.
Spike paused, dropping the cigarette butt into the pool as he heaved a sigh. He had hoped not to think tonight. Nothing ever seemed to go his way. But that was okay. Because he had his reasons for being here. And so even though he had the distinct impression a very angry Faye Valentine would be paying him a visit shortly, Spike had no choice. He would smile, laugh it off, and try not to blow Alex's brains out in the process.
It would be a long, very sleepless night.
A/N: The part at the end with Spike being happy happy happy... I know it was sort of out of character, but it's inspired by a guy I used to know who I base Spike heavily on. In his better moods, he would say shit like that. It's my way of relating to the characters and making them real in my mind (which they are...) and I do think that Spike has a lighter side to keep from killing himself... :) Well, I hope you liked it! And I'm sorry for the delay! School is crazy as hell this year.
Anyway, just because I love you guys SO MUCH I'm gonna give you a preview at the end.
So, all my love, and please review! And since it's nearly bedtime for me here (California) Goodnight, everyone!
You're all the best!
Lucinda
Next Time On Lucifer's Garden: Old habits die hard. Spike and Faye a less than corgial chat about their situation, Jet and Alyssa begin a struggle of their own, and Alex decides to fill in the blanks regarding Amelia. And how exactly is his younger sister involved with Spike? Stay tuned!