Lucifer's Garden
A/N: So it's finals week and I should probably be studying right now, but I got hit by a fatal wave of inspiration. This is the very last of the vauge chapters where you watch my try desperately to juggle character intros, exposition, and plot advancement. From here on out it's all intense rising action (although very little physical action), so enjoy this most mellow of chapters. A lot of you have voiced concerns about the pairing in this fic: IT IS SxF! As you'll see shortly, actually. You guys have to give me some time to flesh out their relationship. Things didn't end so well for them last time and I'm discovering new things about them as I go along. :) And thanks somuch for all of the reviews! I really appreciate them. And gratzi for sticking with me, guys. I know it's like pulling teeth right now, but I'm trying! It makes me happy to make you happy. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop.
Session Five:
Cut and Run
Today is gonna the day that they're gonna throw it back to you
By now you shoulda somehow realized what you gotta do
I don't believe that anybody feels the way I do
About you now
-Oasis
"I know it's a little strange," Alex was saying, his voice husky from synthetic tears, "to have a funeral in a garden. Especially on such a hot day. But believe me, there are a lot of reasons." He paused and Faye heaved a sigh, clearing her throat lightly as she leaned back in her seat. It kind of a hot day for a funeral, but also a beautiful one. Sunday June 6th, the day of Amber Beaumont's service, was so amazing it gave Faye goosebumps. And the most intimate of Alex's gardens, the selected venue, was practically Eden. But everything Alexander King did was flawless; why should this be any different?
"She was such and amazing woman," The woman Faye's right said, adjusting the child on her lap and leaning over to whisper. "Did you know her very well?"
Faye hesitated, her eyes snapping from Alex to the casket set before the crowd. It was mahogany, polished to a high sheen, lined with white silk. Inside was Amber's body, still and as impeccably done up as it had been in life. "Not nearly as well as I should've." She muttered back. The woman nodded, satisfied, and turned her attention back to the little girl she held. She was cooing, smiling, drawing the kid in for a tight hug. Alex went on.
"But mostly it's because I believe that in a place where someone has striven so hard to create life, nothing can ever truly die…" From the row behind, Spike cleared his throat and coughed a little, ripping Faye's attention from her fiancé once more. She had hardly seen Spike in the four days since Amber's death; he was working nonstop for Alex. Of course, four days was comparatively no time at all, but somehow the boredom had stretched it into all the time in the world. "By saying goodbye to Amber here, it's like she will always be with us. As long as these trees grow and these flowers bloom, she can't be forgotten. As long as there is a garden here, she can never die." Another cough from Spike. Faye sighed and watched her fingers pull at the hem of her pretty white dress. She wished he would quit it, but more than that she wished Alex would just shut up. Faye was no stranger to funerals and knew Alex better than she liked to admit; this could take a while.
"She was the sweetest woman I've ever met." The woman whispered again, leaning in once more. "She babysat for me all of the time. We loved her." The husky voice trailed off and Faye glanced over at her. She was a woman in her early to mid twenties, not strictly beautiful but fascinatingly exotic. Her long hair was very black and hung loose down her back and over her shoulders, dark eyes nostalgic as she aimlessly wiped at a spot on her daughter's cheek. The little girl was no more than eighteen months old with huge green eyes and fine dark hair like her mother's, currently pulled into two pigtails on the sides of her round head. Cute enough, but children had always depressed Faye.
"Yeah," Was all Faye could think of to say. "Really sweet." She gave a weak kind of smile and her eyes involuntarily flickered to the woman's left hand. No ring. Embarrassed, Faye diverted her eyes, continuing to pull deftly at her hem. She didn't really mind people having children without being married (like it was any of her business, anyway) but now that she was engaged, seeing single mothers made her stomach sick with guilt. It had always looked so hard to raise a kid and it must have been torture for this woman to do it on her own. There was also the little voice in the back of her mind telling her over and over that if she wasn't careful, she would be the one with a baby. That thought had always freaked her out, especially now that she was getting married strictly as a means to an end. Spike coughed again and Faye winced, working to suppress thoughts of how things might have turned out if she had gotten unlucky two Valentine's Days ago. It didn't help knowing that in some alternate universe she had.
There was a flash off to the right as something caught the sunlight and a pleased coo from the kid. Faye glanced back at the dark haired woman and her daughter. A ring on a fine gold chain had fallen out of the woman's shirt, gold with a single diamond chip. Fat baby hands grasped it and tugged. The woman just smiled fondly and pulled the ring from the child's hands, stuffing it under her shirt. White, just like all of the other guests. One of Alex's weird little requests. Only Spike had worn black and only because, as far as Faye knew, he didn't own anything nicer than a grease streaked t-shirt in white.
"What's your daughter's name?" Faye asked before she could stop herself.
"Her name is Zoë. I couldn't decide, so I flipped to the end of the name book…" The woman laughed softly and pulled Zoë into another close embrace, resting her chin on the little girl's head. "My fiancé, he was the same way. Couldn't decide a thing. I guess it's another reason it's better we never got married." Her eyes met Faye's and there was such resigned sorrow there it made her stomach turn. "What kind of life would that be? Letting other people make choices for us all of the time?"
Faye didn't want to ask, but she had to. "What happened to him?"
The woman was silent for a few moments, maybe having second thoughts about starting the conversation at all. But after a minute or so she replied, "He died. An accident at work just before Zoë was born. Four days before, actually. I'm not sure just what happened, but in his business… I mean, it happens all of the time. Really, it does." Faye didn't have to ask what business he had been in.
We're getting married in three or so weeks, just before my daughter is born…
"Did he… work with Amber?"
She was nodding, smiling, her eyes shining. "He did. How did you know?"
Faye shrugged weakly, turning back to Alex and swallowing hard. Amber's grandmother, an old teetering woman, had stood to join him and help close the lid of the coffin, although she wasn't much help by the looks of it. "Just a guess." She muttered. If Zoë really was a year and a half old and Faye's memory hadn't failed her yet again, odds were that those familiar green eyes belonged to…
The casket closed with a dry snap. Faye wasn't particularly affected by the knowledge that Amber was going to be shut in a pretty wooden box forever. It seemed almost surreal, actually. "If all of you would please take your roses and place them on the casket on your way out, it would be a great way to say goodbye." Alex said, panting only slightly and looking very pleased with himself indeed. "One at a time please." He smiled and the first person stood, a single pink rose in his hand. A moment passed in silence before the man placed the flower on the glimmering wood and exited the garden, heading towards the house. The next person stood.
"You know," The woman said suddenly, adjusting Zoë on her lap and fishing under the seat for her own flower. "I kind of wish I'd never gotten involved with any of this." She found it and gave a satisfied sigh, settling back into her seat. "There's so much death in this business." Her dark eyes flickered to Faye's own left hand, widening marginally when she saw 'the ring' and returning quickly to her face. "You must know. It's hard to wake in the morning and know that any one of the people you know could be dead by the time you go to sleep, isn't it? I mean, that kind of stuff's only supposed to happen in movies."
"What's your name?" Faye asked softly, almost in a haze.
My girlfriend's name is…
"It's Celia." The man sitting next to Celia stood. She would have to go. "It was nice meeting you…?"
"Faye."
"Faye." Celia said the name slowly, tasting it on her lips. Faye could see her try to process it, try to remember where she had heard it before. When it was finally her turn to pay her respects, she gave up. "You know, it helps to talk about it. I appreciate it." With a smile Celia stood, hoisting Zoë up with her and balancing her on her hip.
With a shrug and a little smile, Faye replied, "So do I. Good luck with everything."
"You too."
Faye Valentine leaned back in her chair and watched Celia and Zoë walk up and lay their rose on Amber's casket. She knew they didn't have anything to do with Faye; their only connection was Faye's brief acquaintance with a man long cold in hisgrave. But after everything, it was good to know they were both okay.
Maybe there was some hope for Faye, yet.
Spike didn't move to stand until all of the guests were gone. Faye, Jude, and Beatrice had long since left, Jinn's old girlfriend Celia and been among the first to go. Even Amber's grandmother, the only family she had ever had, was long gone, wobbling unsteadily towards the house. But Alex was still there. He stood his ground up at the front, his hands in his pockets and the sunlight catching his suit, a perfect cut of white silk. His eyes were trained on Spike as he stood slowly, a single white rose gripped loosely in one hand.
"Nice speech." Spike ground out as he took his first step towards the casket.
"Thanks," Alex replied smugly. "I thought you might like it."
Russet eyes fell from Alex's face to the rose in his hand. It wasn't like the others because Spike wasn't like the other guests; his rose was white. Silence. When he had been young and stupid and reckless to the point of idiocy (not that he was any different now), bringing white roses to the funerals of the men and women he had killed had been a kind of tradition. A proverbial dog treat. Now, years older but no wiser, he was doing it again.
"So you're treating Amber like one of your hits." Alex observed as Spike made his way forward, somewhere between amused and resigned. "How appropriate."
Spike was silent for a long time, deliberately crushing neatly cut blades of grass as he moved down the aisle towards the casket. It was blanketed in single pink roses now, poignant in the setting sun. Spike stopped short two feet away from Alex, from the coffin, from the lingering chill of death. "Are you sure you want it to be this way?" He said causally.
"It's your choice Spike." Alex's eyes flashed and his mouth turned up at the corners. "Although it seems a little late at this point."
Both men considered this in the failing light. Then, although slowly and somewhat reluctantly, Spike took two steps forward and placed the white rose gently at the top of the pile. Now that it was done, he could see it was the right thing to do. Slender hands slid into pockets and Spike let his shoulders roll forward. The permanence of Amber's condition pressed heavily on the air.
"You didn't think I'd let her go, did you?" Alex said. His eyes were on Spike,the gazegoing unmet.
"She was no use to you alive. Dead she's just one more way to manipulate the situation."
"You haven't even begun paying for this, Spike."
"Yeah, I figured."
"We're next. You know that, right?"
Spike's eyes flickered to Alex's face.
"What?"
"Amelia. I've been thinking. She wouldn't have come to the building if she wasn't after something." A pause. "She's trying to kill me, Spike."
"We won't be ready to move for months, Alex. There's nothing I can do about it."
The way Alex was looking at him, Spike was getting the impression there was something he could do about it.
"I want you to take care of this. Tomorrow night."
"Impossible."
"You won't have to organize a huge group, Spike. I want you to do this alone and under the cover of darkness."
There was a distinct turning of his stomach that Spike recognized all too well. "You know, Alex," he said lightly, "I can't destroy an entire establishment in one night."
"You've done it before." Big violet eyes softened. A puppy-dog look.
With a shrug Spike relied, "That was kind of a one-time thing."
"And I don't need you to take down the whole she-bang. Just Amelia. We can always pick up the trash later, but I can't have her around."
"This will never work."
Alex's teeth flashed as his little smile turned into a full-blown grin. The sun slipped behind a tree. "Make it work. It's not only me she's after. Faye, Jude, my mom, you… it's only a matter of time. She hates us. She'll take us all out by the end."
Another moment was spent considering. "Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow."
Spike let his mouth twist into a smirk. "Consider it done." Russet eyes met purple with a look that screamed casual hatred. "But someday you're gonna have to learn to stop asking me to kill myself."
Alex's eyes were coy under an arched brow. "Like I'd ever send you to die, Spike-o."
"I always thought you'd wanna do it yourself." Spike replied, turning on the ball of his foot and walking deliberately past Alex in the direction of the pool house.
"I don't know, Spike." A pause. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."
"I'm sorry Mr. and Mrs. Black, but I'm not sure I understand."
Jet cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, glancing at Alyssa. She squeezed his hand encouragingly.
"We… uh… we wanted to adopt the little girl-"
"Young woman," Alyssa cut in.
"The uh… young woman that lives with us."
"Ed. Her name is Ed."
The woman behind the desk looked between them skeptically. "Does she have a last name?"
Jet and Alyssa sat in mortified silence, searching their memories desperately.
"Woo?"
"No, Triv… Triv-something."
"Or Pepelu?"
"Wasn't it Spiegel?"
"That's Spike, sweetheart."
"Applebottom?"
"Francis!"
"Yes! In French! Francoise!"
They sighed in unison, relieved, and turned to face the woman behind the desk.
"Edward Francoise?" She said sharply, a thin brown eyebrow carefully arched. She was an intimidating woman, even to Jet. But then, he had found that most social workers were. "Are you sure?"
Jet furrowed his brow, giving his memory one last scan. It was then he realized, with an appropriate degree of embarrassment and horror, that Francoise might have possibly been Ed's first name. He was debating whether to say anything when Alyssa turned to him and said very sweetly, "Of course! Right Jet?"
"You know," He murmured, "It's possible that Francoise is Ed's first name…" He coughed to drown out the words, but it was too late.
"Are you saying that you don't even know the name of the child you want to adopt?" The thin eyebrowed woman cut in, glaring from behind her desk. Alyssa's eyes widened and softened around the corners. Jet mentally cursed and squeezed her hand like she had his. She was getting emotional.
"Hey, it's not like she uses it!" He snapped back, keeping his anger nicely in check. The social worker narrowed her eyes at him.
"You said her first name was Francoise."
"It is." Alyssa affirmed, clearing her throat and crossing her legs.
"Do you know what planet she was born on?" Cold eyes moved between the Blacks. "Or did that escape you in the…" She checked the application on her desk. "Five and a half years this girl has lived with you?"
"She was born on Earth. I assume her father is still there." Jet replied, narrowing his eyes right back at her.
"Father?"
"Yes."
"And he's the one who has custody over her?"
"I should think so."
The social worker's already thin lips compressed into a flat line as she turned to her computer and punched in some data. With a modest flourish she pressed the enter key and waited as something loaded. Maybe twenty seconds of hell later, she glanced back at Jet and Alyssa.
"If you want custody, you'll have to find the biological parents and prove them unfit. I'd suggest hiring a private investigator. You'll also need her consent. Her full name wouldn't hurt." The woman pulled a packet out of a drawer and slid it across the desk. Jet picked it up. It looked like an informational packet. The Blacks hesitated for a moment, glanced at each other wide-eyed, and finally smiled.
"Full name," Alyssa stated.
"We'll get right on that." Jet finished.
The social worker looked between them. Was it just Jet's imagination, or were the corners of her mouth turning up? "I wish you two the best of luck. I'm sure you'll make great parents."
Yep. Probably the closest that woman had ever gotten to a smile.
Faye was up and dressed early the morning after Amber's funeral for one reason and one reason alone; to avoid Jude and Beatrice. It was Monday, therefore mother/daughter brunch day, which meant two hours of chugging mimosas and listening to Beatrice bitch about being old andJude bitch about being young. For the first few weeks, Faye really hadn't minded. She had been making a sincere effort to like them back then. Now it was just a game of hide and seek; she would hide, they would seek, and if they didn't find her by ten thirty, she was off the hook. Usually she grabbed a book from Alex's collection and slipped out into the gardens to read and sleep and think in solitude for a while. Today was no different, and eight o'clock found Faye curled against an old oak tree in the middle of the property. It was on a small hill and surrounded only by tall grass. It might have been conspicuous, but her in-laws rarely came out here. For all intensive purposes, Faye was safe.
She turned the page of her book, letting the pad of her index finger trace the line of the page. The paper was old and soft, bringing a kind of nostalgic peace to Faye's mind, something that had been rare for as long as she could remember. She was a perfect example of an excitable kid who had grown up into a restless woman; she vaguely remembered playing the piano calmed her down, but she had long forgotten how. Now it was anything old, books especially, and luckily they weren't hard to find in the King home. Faye wasn't reading it, wasn't really interested, but she loved the smell and the feel of the leather and the weight of it in her hands. It was a good moment and she didn't want it to end. It would of course, probably courtesy of Alex… she vaguely recalled that wedding preparations started today. He would want her to meet the wedding planner. But all of that was very distant and, at least for now, easy to put out of her mind. Spike, however, was an entirely different matter. That was largely due to the fact that he had appeared right in front of her, directly in the line of her sight.
"Hey there, Faye," He said pleasantly, his mouth a pretty smirk. "I didn't know you could read."
Faye glowered up at him from behind dark, dark sunglasses but didn't make any move to physically harm him (although the thought did cross her mind). "Shut up, you." She replied lightly. She was in a particularly good mood today and Spike should have been thanking his lucky stars. He wasn't. Instead he sank to the ground, stretching his long legs out and laying back. Slender fingers laced together and locked behind his head, shielding his crazy brown hair from the grass.
"No need to get snarky, Faye-Faye." Spike said, glancing over at her. "We're all friends here."
Friends. Faye was attracted to that word to the point that she snapped her book closed when he said it. Spike and Faye had been a lot of things, but never that. A word like that, especially as he said it sprawled out and casual in the sunlight, sounded manageable. She could never be his wife, his lover, his enemy, his pseudo sister. But friend she could do, even if his eyes did linger a little below her neck for a couple seconds too long.
"Sure we are." Faye replied coyly as she let her book drop to the grass. She stretched out her own legs and poked him in the ribs with her toe. "Buddies." It was only as he looked at her skeptically that she realized how facetious she had been. She might have blushed a little as she turned her head sharply away, staring pointedly away from him. She didn't want it to be like this. Faye cleared her throat and tried again. "I heard you were on Callisto."
"Yep." Spike affirmed shortly. She stole a glance at him. He was looking up at the sky, that little smile still there.
"Was it because of-"
"No."
"Oh. Right."
A pause.
"That's the only place they don't think to look for you."Spike added by way of explanation.
Faye didn't ask who 'they' were. When it came down to it, she didn't really wanna know. The conversation faltered and Faye fought for something else to say. Silence should have been okay. On the Bebop they sat for hours on that shitty old couch without saying two words to each other (on the rare occasion two words did pass their lips, they were usually along to lines of 'Cigarette?' and 'Nope.'). But here she felt sick with awkwardness. There had to be something to fight about. Seriously. A moment passed in silence and Faye floundered. When she came up empty handed, she decided it was time to cut and run. And so, with a flourish and a hair flip, she was on her feet and stepping over Spike easily, still debating whether or not to say goodbye.
She hadn't taken a step past him when a callused hand wrapped around her ankle and pulled her back.
"Hey!" Faye cried out, hopping frantically to keep her balance. "Get off of me!" She turned awkwardly on her one leg to swat him away from her. Cut and run! Cut and run! He wasn't even bothering to sit up, but his dark eyes were amused. As she slammed the book down onto his arm the grip on her ankle disappeared and Spike got a hold of her wrist, bringing her down to her knees with a deft pull. She hit the grass and Spike sat up to greet her, his eyebrows raised in surprise. Faye's pulse was pounding fast and strong under his fingertips.
"Where do you think you're going?" He asked playfully.
She narrowed her eyes at him teasingly, partially because she knew he couldn't see it behind the shades. "It is my house, Spike. I can go anywhere I want."
He was silent for a moment, his eyes searching her face. "Take those off." He murmured, jerking his head towards what she assumed were her sunglasses. Faye recoiled the slightest bit, but he didn't waver or aid her movement in the least.
"… Why?"
"I wanna see your eyes. Is that so bad?" Spike wasn't anywhere near defensive but he was alarming Faye anyway. She did as she was asked but only very slowly. Once they were off he pulled her even closer, studying her like he never had before. It made her uncomfortable but the only protest she could muster was a weak, "What are you looking at, lunkhead?" She didn't move, didn't breathe. Spike had always scared her a little; now was no exception. When he was done inspecting her he pulled away very quickly and returned to his sprawl, leaving Faye watching him doubtfully from her spot on her knees, an eyebrow cocked and her face twisted into a grimace. His eyes were closed and a satisfied smirk was back on his face as he said, "Yep. It's official."
"What?" Faye shot back, crossing her arms just under her chest.
Spike cracked one eyelid. "I never should have slept with you."
For a long moment, there was silence.
"What the hell!" Faye exploded all at once, grabbing her book and hurling at Spike with all her strength. "You're lucky you ever got a chance you asshole!" Contact. Between bouts of laughter Spike hissed in pain. "I swear to God if I wasn't so drunk that night you'd never have gotten anywhere near me!" She actually hadn't been all that drunk that night, but she didn't pause to consider that fact. Instead, she leapt at Spike and tried to get a good smack in. She'd never thought he'd be such a fastroller. "I wouldn't be surprised if I was the best you ever had! I'm way outta your league you stupid shit!" Faye seemed to have forgotten how agile her good friend Spike was. Her hands might have closed around his neck for a split second, but before she could even blink he had her pinned on her back. His hands were closed around her wrists and he held them over her head, straddling her like he expected her to fight back. But once she was there, looking up at his cocky smile and letting the last of his laughter wash over her, she wasn't all that sure she wanted to leave after all, despite the little voice screaming at her from the back of her mind. (Cut and run! Cut and run!)
"I said I shouldn't have." Spike said, blasé as he leaned over her until their noses almost touched. Faye's mouth turned up in a smirk. "I didn't say I'd neverdo it again." And then she was laughing like she hadn't in a very long time (had she ever been this giddy?)and Spike was leaning down more, his breath warm on her cheek, and pressing his lips very gently to the skin just shy of her left ear. He smelled like Old Spice and musk and the best part of a cigarette and she came very close to nuzzling him just for the satisfaction of skin on skin, even though she was already buzzing with nerves and adrenaline, chaste as their contact was. When the kiss was over he lingered just long enough to whisper very softly in her ear, "Thanks for everything." Then he was standing and strolling away, whistling some old song. Faye stayed just were she was, breathless and dazed, her heart pounding out a steady rhythm to her ribs. It was only as she sat up slowly to watch him dissapear into the house, drawing her legs to her chest as she did so, that his words registered.
Thanks for everything. The pulse throbbing in her ears was telling her that sounded a lot like goodbye.
Spike had just cut and run.
A/N: Just clarifying... Celia is Jinn's old girlfreind and Zoe is their daughter. And don't worry, niether has a big part. Thanks so much for reading!
Love,
Lucy