Chapter VI : Break Down and Divide
"Spike, you're an asshole."
I sighed as I brought the cigarette up to my mouth, taking a deep drag. I felt it as my lungs pulled on the seducing smoke desperately, the need for the nicotine overwhelming the need for actual oxygen. I held it in for a few more seconds than necessary and blew it out slowly, watching the contaminated air materialize from my mouth into the air, smirking.
Yes, old habits do die hard.
Officially, I had quit smoking, but honestly, I couldn't refuse when I found a pack smushed in my makeshift closet as I was searching for my cocktail dress with the last cigarette in there. It was practically calling out my name, and God knows I've needed one this whole entire week. I felt a little guilty when I looked at Cailin, which is why I am hiding in the main control room right now, indulging one last time. Come on, a mother needs to get a break sometimes.
And I was alone as well. So, I technically was speaking to no one, but had Spike in my mind and I couldn't help calling him an asshole out loud. It feels better when you can actually hear yourself say it, just because I feel more justified saying it rather than keeping it inside.
I was leaning against the big console in the center of the room, staring out at the nightlife of Tharsis over the water. Dots of colors sparkled across the water at me, forcing their beauty upon me just like everything and everyone in that wretched city. If I were more naïve I would have gladly accepted the striking wonders of life only a body of water away, but I've lived too long and too much to know any less. That's what you get when you subject yourself to a life filled with varying plights; you risk any chance of seeing the world through immaculate eyes and enjoying life. My jade eyes are fare too jaded for any of that shit.
The big lights illuminated the big city, blinding newcomers from the actual horridness that lurked beneath the rich and magnificent boundary. It never once fazed me when I caught a bounty in an alley just behind a tall skyscraper full of rich and pretentious people. It's just a huge metaphor of the oil mixed with water shit; just turn a corner and look up, then you will see your match.
I hate this city.
I frowned and thought about tonight. It was Friday, the thirteenth (ironic—though I am far from superstitious), a week from mine and Spike's encounter, and the night of the "blind date" I had with the bounty. We landed on Mars three days ago, and I spent that time buying supplies for Cailin. But this entire week was filled with awkward feelings and bloody tongues because I was both avoiding and being closer to Spike. I let my possessive barrier up and allowed Spike to take care of Cailin more, so obviously he was starting to spend more time hanging around me. Okay, so maybephysically he was close to me, but I know that I closed myself up every time he accidentally brushed my arm, or every time he walked past me and that damned scent of his laughed its way into my nose.
And that whole time I was asking myself over and over why in all planetary life I just had to choose him to fall for. That idiot of a man; that arrogant jerk; that carefree guy who only cares about one woman; that man who had nothing going for him but would give up everything for nothing. God, that man that I just can't help thinking about all the goddamn time.
I never expected to think anything more of Spike than just some guy that gave no inclination to his past. I never expected to even last past two months living with him. And I spent almost nine months with him before he ran off on his little 'escapade'. Blah blah, my emotions were shackled for six months and right before I was really going to let go of him, Spike comes waltzing back onto the ship, scars and tales in tow no doubt, but not a single word other than that devilish smirk. And then I spent another nine months with him.
So now I'm here. Where 'here' is, I have no idea, but I'm definitely there. But I do know that ever since Spike came back, our orbitals that have been once jarred into each other were now invaded and looped in an intricate swine. I hated the fact that Spike was all in my personal planer at first, but now . . . now I'm trying to scratch through his cloud barriers. It's futile though. Everything dealing with Spike is futile.
I sighed and took another long drag as a certain word drifted in my mind along with the smoke above my eyes.
Love.
I cringed.
It's a pretty intimidating word. I've been loved once before in my life, I know it, but I can'tremember that feeling. All I have are images of warm smiles and passing of caring words. And now I'm thrown into the pool of 'Love' feelings, and I'm sorry, but I have no fucking clue on how to deal with it. I figured I do have love, but I have love for different things. I love—loved—gambling, I loved spending money, I loved—love—smoking, and I love my daughter. And whether I knew it then or not, I love the circus of a family I'm living with.
But the word love and Spike…that's just a curveball thrown at me. I've never been in love before. Not in a love that I felt in and out of me, choking me in my sleep, the singsong voice of it hovering in my ears incessantly like a pesky insect. But I'm starting to get scared because now I'm beginning to feel all those symptoms, and . . . I just don't want it to be known. I may have changed, but there's no way I'm telling anyone how I feel.
I tell Jet, he'll look at me incredulously for three hours straight before condoling me in a lecturing manner.
I tell Ed, she's just going to laugh and unintentionally make a rhyming song of it and sing it in front of everyone.
I tell Spike and he'll just tell me I'm being stupid and that he won't be able to give me anything in return, all that bullshit.
Why the hell is life this complicated? Why does it have to be so cruel as to place reckless sentiments on people who aren't in the slightest way prepared for it?
"Faye! Where the hell are you?"
Jet's voice rung me from my contemplation and I tilted my head towards the entranceway. I moved off the console and looked around until I found an ashtray, dejectedly stubbing whatever was left of the cigarette out. I got out of the control room and made my way back into the hallway, going through until I reached the location of Jet's voice.
I entered the front room and in there I found Jet pacing around with Cailin cradled gently in his arms. Despite his gruffness, it was so obvious that it was in Jet's nature to raise a child. Even in his anger Jet was so careful with a baby. I raised an eyebrow and he frowned at me.
"What? And please don't say that shit in front of the baby," I said, uninterested in hearing him whine about the tardiness he thinks I'm demonstrating.
Jet shook his head. "Where were you? Your date is at seven thirty and it's already seven fifteen."
I rolled my eyes. My date. A pathetic way to get any, but thank God it's not for pleasure. Here's where I would gladly refuse mixing business and pleasure, whether Spike's involvement in my life matters or not. I'd have to be a desperate fool to want anything to do with a guy whose worth is posted above his picture.
The restaurant is ten miles away by drive, but I can easily make it in five minutes by air. No big deal. I didn't answer his question and in response, my eyes slid toward Cailin and I looked back at Jet, tilting my head in question. "Was she crying?"
Jet looked at Cailin and I saw his face flush as he looked down at her. "Yeah. Spike was busy in the kitchen so I changed her diaper."
I smiled. "Thanks Jet. I always figured you'd be handy in babysitting," I said. "Let me just get my gun and then I'll go." Then I walked into the hallway and into my room. I grabbed my thigh holster and my gun, flicking the release and the clip slid from the handle and I checked to see that the chamber was full, and I pushed the clip back into place. I then put it in the holster, which I wrapped around my thigh, my best and safe hiding place. I turned to the full mirror on my door and straightened out my dress, reassuring myself that I still looked good in it and that I still had it in me to seduce strangers. I pulled a stray strand back into my bun and fixed a spot of makeup that hadn't even smeared.
I had been standing in front of my mirror for five minutes now, and I realized the longer I stayed here, the more finicky I'd be. Exhaling a long breath, I smirked at my reflection before grabbing a shawl and finally exiting my room.
Spike, Ed and Ein joined Jet when I got back there, but I ignored Spike's sharp look as I made my way to the table, even if I was starting to feel the embers crackle and jump inside me. I spent the whole time getting ready ignoring him and his stupid gaze, and I was determined to not let him shake me up. Jet handed me a tiny microphone and I clipped it inside my dress, now ready to go.
"You remember who to catch, right?" Jet asked and I nodded, fixing an earring.
"Yes. Come on Jet. It's only been several months, I'm not rusting already," I said with slight annoyance.
He sighed and ran a hand over his bare scalp. "I know, but I want to make sure you know what you're doing."
I noticed that he wasn't holding Cailin anymore and I turned my head, seeing that she was now balanced on Spike's knees as he sat there quietly on the couch, regarding me with a mindful stare. His sudden carefulness and fathering still befuddled me, and it's hard placing Spike on that same pedestal and judging him the same way that I had months before. Granted, his feelings toward me probably haven't changed much, but he didn't let his previous misgivings about me affect his newfound paternal instincts, and I credited him for that. But as his eyes watched me, I felt that wave of uneasiness come washing up on me and I looked away from him, angry with myself for wishing he were looking at me under different circumstances. As if it were our date I was getting ready for.
I shook my head. "I'll be fine." I wrapped the sheer black shawl around my shoulders and started walking up the stairs towards the hatch. "If I have any problems, you'll hear, okay? See you guys," I called out behind my shoulder before stepping out of the door and into the hanger.
The ride to the restaurant was silent but very noisy. I could barely concentrate on my piloting because Spike was in my head. Good grief, with all these thoughts of him, I'm starting to believe that I'm more in the deep than I thought I was.
But the distraction was simple. I was kicking myself because in my haste and carefulness in being as far away from him as I can be, I completely neglected saying goodbye to my daughter. Is this how it's going to be? Spike's nearness and mereexistence ultimately driving me away from my own child? If I'm going to owe it to Cailin at all, then I'm going to have to start picking up my heart and hiding it.
I shook my head, hoping to rid myself of these tainted thoughts. Tonight can't be a night where I'm focusing on Spike. I have the rest of my life to do that.
I groaned. Spending the rest of my life wondering if Spike could ever return my feelings. Return my stupid feelings that I shouldn't even be having. It's hard reminding myself everyday why I care so much for him, but every time I see him holding Cailin with a soft look on his face, it gets easier at night. Then in the morning the cycle starts over.
I sighed and blinked to get out of my stupor, looking around to see if the restaurant was nearby. I didn't see it anywhere, yet I knew this was the street it was on, and the street was about to merge into a completely different street. So when I looked in the rearview mirror and saw Le Soleil Noir behind me, I gritted my teeth at my carelessness.
"Shit," I muttered and swiftly turned my spacecraft around and flew towards the restaurant, landing with more gusto than grace. I smirked as the valet boy's eyes widened at the abrupt parking, and when I got out of my vehicle I simply tossed the key at him without a second glance.
I entered into the foyer and paused to take a look at the surroundings, giving a low whistle of appreciation. Well, it seems that our bounty here has some nice taste. I took a deep breath and rewrapped my shawl around me, putting on my game face. I stepped up to the podium where the host was standing and gave him a flirty smile. I noticed his eyes briefly traveled the length of my body and I smirked inwardly.
"Good evening ma'am, welcome to Le Soleil Noir. Is this a party of one or two?"
"Two. Muschovitz," I replied.
He skimmed the list and when he found the name he looked back at me and smiled. "This way please."
I followed him and looked around the restaurant, observing all the people around. This obviously was a high-class restaurant (though it kept the old-fashioned impression with actual waiters and waitresses) as the patrons were all adorned in furs and diamonds, just one of the many quirks about this city. As I was passing tables I saw from the corner of my eyes men looking at me: married men, men with girlfriends, single men; hell, men with their boyfriends, and I wondered why exactly I was being so attractive. I mean, I know that my sex appeal was my biggest asset, but it's been a long time since I've dressed up and I sure as hell know that my sexiness couldn't have gotten any fresher. But that was only a passing thought as I reveled in the attention.
The glances just kept turning my way and there were occasionally winks, but in the back of my mind I was thinking of why I hadn't gotten any more than an uninterested glance from Spike.
I frowned, chiding myself. I've only been in this restaurant for not even ten minutes and already I was thinking of Spike. I need to focus.
I was seated at a table in the center of the room and I was pleased when I saw the bar within twenty feet. If this night turns out to be a total disaster, I know I have a trusted bottle of whisky to fall back on, hopefully along with full and happy pockets from other men to finance my liquid submission.
After a few minutes a waiter came by. "Good evening, I'm Laurie and I'll be your waiter for the night. Would you like a drink, ma'am while you wait?"
"I'll have a glass of martini, please. Dry." She left and I sat there, feeling a bit awkward and out of place. I wasn't exactly dressed properly for this kind of restaurant, but not completely underdressed; my slinky dress reached about mid-thigh and though the front didn't dip so low the back of my dress showed more than half of my back, but thankfully my shawl kept my white skin from being shown. I was getting bad looks from the women, but I dismissed them. It wasn't really my fault if they looked like prudes compared to me.
My drink came shortly after and I sipped on it, watching the clock every other minute. I've been sitting here for almost ten minutes now and I was starting to get bored. And I was hoping not to get bored because if I started to drift away from my purpose here, I know I would start thinking about Spike and what he was doing at the moment. And that's a much not needed topic on my mind.
I frowned down at the tablecloth and the neat setting of the plate and utensils, wishing that Spike would just vanish from my mind for at least an hour. God, I wish I would just stop thinking about thinking of him!
I was staring at the table for quite some time and was startled when I heard my name called from above me. I looked up and was faced with the most gorgeous sight ever. If I weren't sitting down already, I probably would've been floored.
Blue eyes were shining at me, set in a face that looked impossibly molded to perfection. It was chiseled but so impeccably soft; he looked like an angel. Or, some rich and beautiful model. I decided to go with the former, just to appease my logic. Chocolate brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck and wayward strands were dancing around his face, giving more attention to his defined cheekbones. His suit accented his look very well; the pristine white of his shirt contrasting against striking black made him look so…regal, so wealthy looking. But it was his tie that stood out; the pale blue silk made his eyes look even bluer.
"Faye Valentine?" he repeated again and I blinked up at him, feeling myself blush for openly ogling this guy.
"Yeah, um, yes. I'm sorry, but do you have the wrong table?" I realized that that was a dumb question to ask, but at the moment I was feeling really dumb. He couldn't possibly be the bounty. There hadn't been a picture, but I had imagined that this guy I was after was middle aged with thinning hair and well . . . nothing like the handsome man standing in front of me.
He laughed and I just about swooned. "That should be my question. I walked in and saw a beautiful violet-haired woman sitting alone and refused to believe that such a woman could be my blind date."
I knew I shouldn't have believed that such a lame pick-up line could have made me blush, but it was the way that he had said it that made all derisive thoughts shoot out of my head. His voice was like silk, the kind that's hard to find anywhere in this galaxy. It was rich and soft, vivid yet subtle, a voice that could put me to sleep with one word.
I shook my head and awkwardly stood up to formally greet him. I smiled softly at him. "Sorry, I was just confused. I didn't expect you to look . . . um, like you," I said, and I knew my face was heating up. Good going Faye, what a way at taking control of the date.
He placed a hand on my back and it surprised me when I felt his cool hand touch the bare skin of my back. But as quick as it came it went away as he pulled away and pulled my seat back out for me. When he sat down he smiled at me and when I saw dimples I had to keep from sighing.
He laughed softly at my comment. "Yeah, can't really get much out of those online dating services. It's my first time doing one; my friends set me up on it," he told me and immediately I was drawn back into the real world. I couldn't believe that I almost completely forgot why exactly I was on this date, that some pretty face distracted me from doing my job.
I laughed along with him, and when I smiled at him his eyes widened. I was alarmed and felt my heart race at his panic. Why I was, I don't really know, but he seemed alert so suddenly that for a second I thought he found out that I was out for his bounty.
"What's wrong?" I asked, carefully masking my voice to make it seem worried, and he shook his head, his long hair swishing behind him.
"I'm an ass. I apologize; I haven't even introduced myself," he said and I wanted to laugh at him. More so at myself for even worrying that he possibly knew that I was here strictly on business. He held his hand out for me and I shook it. "Alecto Muschovitz, but people tend to call me Alec. You can call me Alecto, Alec, or whatever suits you. Heck, Jackass would work, but I'm not sure if people would respond well with that one."
I shook my head and wondered if he had some kind of spell on him that made me act so careless with my caution.
He had been holding onto my hand for a minute longer, so I gingerly slipped mine out of his grip and picked up my glass. "Well, you already know my name. Faye Valentine."
He smiled again and I swear I was blinded by the whiteness of his straight teeth. "Valentine," he murmured. "A lovely name. So unlike Muschovitz, it's soft and easy on the ears. A fitting name for a lady like yourself."
I flushed at his flattery, despite its utter unoriginality. But as soon as that action was executed I quickly amended that I had become rosy at the cheeks just to spite him.
The waiter came again, but this time we ordered food and while waiting we engaged ourselves in light conversation.
"So, Alec—Alec is fine right?" I asked and he nodded. "What do you do for a living?"
If he was affected by my question at all he didn't show anything, and instead smiled easily. "Well, I work for a business that handles corporate affairs," he said and I nodded, but I wondered at how and why he came to shutting down the place. He just seemed so young to want to do something wrong. Then again, it's his mind that comes up with these plans, and I'm one to try and look into these things. I'm the one to do the dirty work.
"And you," his voice brought me back from my thinking and my eyes refocused on the piercing blue. "What do you do?"
I was quick to think of an answer.
"Well, I work for a magazine. I'm not involved in any of the writing, thank God, but I handle all the celebrities and set up interviews and such," I lied with ease. It's so easy coming up with a completely different life.
Alec nodded, and I hoped that he wouldn't want to talk about it as much. Thankfully he didn't ask any more questions about it, and I was fair and didn't press on about his job, as I already knew more than I needed to. It wouldn't do him any better lying to me. His credentials were already weakened enough as it is, and to know that he would so easily lie to a total stranger didn't really work well.
Our food came and we ate with a light chatter. It really would have been better had he not been a bounty, but it also would have been better if I wasn't a bounty hunter. But ah well, that's life I guess, just one big playing field with the game of cat and mouse.
I studied him as we ate and I marveled at how incredibly calm he was acting. And I almost felt bad for him, knowing that in less than and hour he's going to be putting that beautiful smile of his to use for his mug shot. I wondered if this was how assassins felt before they killed someone; knowing that they had control over a person's life. Whether I wanted to or not, I also wondered if this was how Spike felt with his duties in the Syndicate, if he ever felt anything at all before ruining someone's life. I shrugged inwardly; guilty or not, it's not really my favor at being in control of another person's fate. My own life is enough shit to deal with already.
"You know, Faye, I'm having a enjoyable time with you," he suddenly said and I looked at him, wishing I could feel the same.
"Thank you. I'm having a wonderful time as well." Saying it would just have to do, proving another fact that the world is chockfull of liars.
He smiled, but now I wasn't blinded by the dazzling whiteness. It was still amazing—my heart had flipped over only once—but I was cursing my damned job at forcing me to be the least bit resentful towards my bounty/date.
I took a sip of my wine and waited patiently for Alec to finish his dinner. I looked around the restaurant and glowered slightly the impression of richness and grandiosity all around, this whole place full of liars and lustful people, living their careless lives in this godforsaken city. This is the life you see through eyes of a person floating above their heads on a daily basis.
Alec dropped his napkin and bent down to get it and when I looked behind him my heart stopped.
When he sat back up, I grabbed a hold of my purse and scooted my seat back.
"Um, If you'll excuse me, I have to go to the restroom," I told him and he nodded, getting up from his seat along with me. I tried not to rush past him as I stalked towards a table two behind us.
As soon as I sat down on the empty seat I quietly hissed, "What the hell are you doing here?"
Spike watched me with amused eyes and kept his elbows on the table, which I was itching to knock off. If anything, he leaned in close to me and shrugged one sharp shoulder.
"Having dinner."
My eyes narrowed at him. For a moment I didn't know what to say, just because everything I wanted to say couldn't be said without attracting unwanted attention.
"Dinner?" I asked slowly and as calm as I can mange.
"Isn't that what I said?" An eyebrow twitched and my eyes flickered toward his glass, but alas, Spike caught on and easily took it out of any potential reach. To make it worse, he drank it all and gave me a smirk. "I'm a bit thirsty."
I rested my arms on the table and rubbed my temple. "I'm going to ask you again, Spike. Why are you here? What, did you not trust me enough to be able to catch a bounty by myself that you had to come spy on me? Did Jet put you up to this?"
He shrugged, and I could see the enjoyment swirling in his russet eyes. "Jet doesn't know I'm here."
Now I was cursing him for drinking all his wine. "How did you get in?" Though that wasn't really what I needed to know, I was wondering as to how Spike of all people got a seat in this restaurant.
"I frequented here in my Syndicate years," he said and I pushed no further, just to save us the awkwardness of relapsing to his pleasant or unpleasant memories.
"Where's the baby?"
"With Jet and Ed." He seemed to enjoy answering my questions that I was asking in panic.
I closed my eyes and put a hand to my forehead, trying to cool down. "Spike," I said, this time tired of arguing with him. "Just because I'm pissed off until forever right now and my date is waiting, I'm going to leave this table and I want you out of this."
I opened my eyes, silently pleading with him. As much as I hate begging for anything, I really needed this from Spike.
He either got my message or decided to drop the easiness of his part in this conversation. "Fine. But really, it's not my fault that you noticed me in the first place. I was surprised that you even took time to look away from your pretty boy bounty there."
I smirked at him. "Why, are you jealous Spike?"
He threw me a smile and pointed to his ear. "I can hear you Faye and you sound a little more eager than you should. Either you're a really good actor or you're actually enjoying yourself." After a moment of my silence he leaned in close and asked, "Is he really getting your panties in a twist?"
Though his voice was laced with sarcasm, his eyes told me something completely different. Ever since I learned of the tragic tale of his two-toned eyes, in hindsight I was more careful at reading into them, or rather, more interested. Despite the fact that I never knew anything beyond the lazy and blasé look he commonly gazed upon me with, I could distinguish an underlying emotion when they would flash with intensity.
He was looking at me with fire shooting through, the lights in them crackling like they're almost on the verge of exploding. Like firecrackers before they're fired off. I was drawn back for a moment; just because the last time I saw this much power in his eyes was when he found out about Julia.
I stared at the tablecloth and tried to rummage through my swirling head. His remark and his eyes snapped something inside my mind, a plethora of emotions pricking and punching behind my eyes, giving me more of an ache than any other internal head sore.
I was tired. Tired of feeling more than the default indifference towards the very man sitting across from me, tired of believing that I could actually go on when my heart is staked near him, constantly at his heels, and I fully knew that he could very easily stomp on it at any given moment.
I had no idea why I deluded myself into thinking that unrequited love would be easier than actually giving love.
The silly and most pungent thing about this? I'm stuck in this warp. Like the gate of the astral environment when it closes up, I'm trapped in this feeling. It's not a playing card that I can tuck into my shirtsleeve for convenient use later on. There is no switch for turning off love.
I swore heavily. The heavy smoke got into my eyes and now I'm blinding myself with pity and useless love.
"Faye." The graveness of his baritone voice contrasted sharply with Alec's smooth and placid undertones; it was sandpaper clashing with silk.
But the texture of his voice wasn't the only thing that I noticed. He called my voice low, with a hint of fervor laced into his drawl, and it almost reminded me of how he called my name with feeling behind it, dated ten and something months ago.
I inclined my head towards him and dragged my eyes up to meet his. I pursed my lips and pretended to look casual, but either Spike was too clever or I was making a half-assed attempt.
We stared at each other, and if it weren't for the rawness of my emotions right now, I probably would have noted that something shifted in the air between our eyes.
I didn't want to say anything in fear that my words would stumble out from underneath my tongue in a jumble and within the stutters and mutters Spike would easily pick out some inadvertent confession. So I didn't and prayed that he wouldn't say another stupid comment that would rush me into another lapse of self-musing.
With a flash of his pupils and a witted grin, Spike cocked his head in the direction behind me and said, "I think your date's waiting."
I restrained from sighing in relief and began to gather my purse. He quietly watched me as I re-oriented myself from the momentary discomfort, absently pulling hair behind my ear and tugging at my hem as I rose from my seat. I didn't look at him as I turned around and walked back to my table where Alec was patiently waiting.
When I sat down I gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry I took so long. Those damn lines."
He laughed and the corners of his eyes crinkled. "Well, you came just in time. Our desert is here." Right as he finished speaking the waiter came back with a dessert cart flourished with pastries. "You choose first, Faye."
Biting my lip, I looked over at all the little dishes and almost smiled in giddiness despite my brief inner turmoil just two minutes ago. It's been years since I've indulged myself in a delicious dessert like these. I was even happier with the fact that I didn't have to pay for any of this. My hand plucked what looked like to be a slice of pie from the tray and I smiled as I took the first bite.
I noticed Alec looking at me after a while and I paused (though regrettably) in my delving to look back at him, hoping I didn't look as annoyed as I felt. But he was grinning at me stupidly, his plate of raspberry rum cake untouched.
I blinked and wondered if there was anything on my face. "What?" I asked.
Teeth were showing now and he shook his head, leaning forward in his seat. "Nothing, nothing," he said but I raised an eyebrow in question.
"Do you know how beautiful you are when you smile?"
"Actually, I did, but thanks for telling me," I said simply with a smirk. My dazzling date laughed and finally started on his dessert. I gratefully returned to my pie.
I finished with more poise than I would ever eat a pie with and was now busying myself with taking sips of wine. I gazed around again but directly avoided the area behind Alec, even though I could feel the searing of his eyes on me. My nerves were pinched and my heart was trembling in fretfulness and tumult. I cursed my body for being late in corresponding with my emotions.
I moved a hand to the side of my leg and through the stocking I could feel the iciness of my palm. It was surprising maddening to me; I swore to myself that these bullets in my gun would be put into Spike's foot by the end of the night.
As my anger settled in me I actually started to think about Spike's reason for being here. Not for my benefit, and certainly not for his own. For professional reasons, yes, I could understand, but Spike was as lazy as the homeless men who loiter around the streets begging for money and/or sympathy. But forpersonal reasons . . . Spike cared about me as much as he cared about the weather. His feelings for me are never intentional if ever good, and if not that, then his consistent grumbling surely gives away his contempt for my existence.
I was at a standstill. Either Spike was here to be "back-up" or—though extremely disbelieving—he actually cared about my well being. But I fervently rejected that idea. Knowing that there were potential emotions relating to care or even possibly love running through that man put me on the edge of a cliff. How could I function knowing that my love was not so unrequited after all? I would be a goddamn hypocrite, that's what.
Again, I easily picked up that thought and crushed it, just because a) it would never happen and b) Spike had to have been smart to avoid loving me altogether.
In my half awareness, my peripheral vision picked up golden hues and I was immediately drawn back into attentiveness. I followed the trail of the fair color, my heart clamming up, but this time in fear. Her hair was the same golden I remembered, and the glow of the waving locks made everything around her dull considerably.
She was a waitress here. Questions demanding quick answers were darting in my head, but I could only watch as she made her way past our table and towards the very table Spike was sitting at. My heart rate increased by ten beats per second and I quickly looked to Spike. He was busy with the menu in front of him and I was silently pleading for her to pass him and for him to not look up until she walked past.
She was as tall as I remembered, slender too. Her stride was the same cool collectiveness and I took time to bemuse myself with wondering why she took a job here, in a restaurant of all places. A woman of her caliber, I thought, wouldn't die and then come back as a waitress.
To my absolute horror she stopped right in front of Spike and when he looked up, I saw the shock register in his eyes and I looked back to the blonde and though she didn't turn around enough for me to see her full facial features, I was sure her blue eyes were shining back at him, the joy evident in her eyes knowing that she caught her love off guard with her unexpected appearance. When she tilted her head slightly I saw her long, oval face and knew that red lips were smiling sad and loving, reassuring my absolute worst fear.
I swallowed a deep lump in my throat and in the process I almost swallowed my tongue on the very name that made my stomach curl simultaneously in disgust and the bitter beginnings of defeat.
Julia.
