DISCLAIMER: You know what I'm supposed to say. I want to apologize for my short hiatus taking almost two months, but the story refused to work the way I wanted it to. It was supposed to be heavy on Jet and light on angst. Yeah, right. Anyway, the juices are flowing and I'm even managing to keep up with my Supernatural story. Huzzah. ;p


Spike stared at the ceiling fan, attempting to follow a single blade in its revolutions with his eyes. He reached up slowly, inhaling a long drag, and pulled the cigarette from his mouth to ash into the tray on the floor and stub out. He blew a long lazy train of smoke rings up toward the fan, watching the donuts scatter into nothing as they were cut by the blades.

He had to pee. More than that, he had to take a dump and she was preventing that. Somehow, Tilly had talked Faye and Ed into a "makeover day" whatever the hell that was, and had sent Jet to the store for some "essentials." Spike's bowels felt about ready to explode, and it was just cruel and inhuman for the girls to keep him out of the lone working bathroom on the entire ship. Why the hell Jet had gone along with this, Spike would never know. Apparently, the girls needed all sorts of hair dye, makeup and clothes. What was Jet doing buying clothes? And why had they sent Jet? Couldn't hey have gone shopping themselves?

"Shit," Spike grumbled, fearing he would. He stood up, determined to try his luck once more. If they didn't cooperate, he just might start cracking skulls.

. .>. .>. .>

Jet stared in dismay at the list. How could she?

"Damn that Tilly," he grumbled, blushing.

Tampons.

She actually expected him to buy tampons. Not only had he looked like a pervert in the lingerie store getting a training bra and a sports bra, not to mention the eight pair of panties, but now he was expected to buy tampons. Tilly's elegant scrawl glared up from the page.

Smooth glide, ultra absorbency, petite for teens.

How dare she! And who knew they came in something other than- whatever it was they came in. Jet shuddered. Spike had no idea how lucky he was getting to stay behind on the ship. Jet looked around the small convenience store at the other patrons. A strangely mismatched couple, she was punk while he looked very conservative, a few teenagers over by a video game, an old lady squeezing every piece of fruit and another comparing prices on canned milk, a businessman studying the bottles of wine while eyeing the store clerk, and the clerk, a pretty girl with her nose buried in a textbook.

Jet grit his teeth, grabbed the teal box with pink flowers, and stuffed it into the basket on his arm. He moved on to the candy aisle and frowned in dismay at the list once more.

Chocolate covered cherries.

Milk chocolate chips.

Brownies.

Reisens.

Chocolate covered caramels.

What the hell is all this? All three of them couldn't be going at the same time could they? Oh, God.

"If they are I quit. That's it. No more." Jet shook his head and tossed the assorted candies into the basket along with a couple of things for him and Spike. The next aisle was hair care products and Jet was grateful Tilly had taken the time to write down exactly what they needed, quantities and all.

Two boxes 'back to basics', Natural Oils.

One box 'hot coffee', Natural Oils.

Three boxes 'honeyed wheat', Bombshell Inc.

One box 'midnight ink', Ravage Colors.

Jet double-checked the list to make sure nothing was missing and moved on to get the actual groceries they would all need to survive until the next bounty before making his way to the counter, curious about who was going blonde.

. .>. .>. .>

"Are you sure you really want to do this?"

Tilly looked up from French-braiding Ed's hair to meet Faye's gaze. Truth be told, Tilly wasn't sure about anything, but she had no choice. The vid-mail from Callisto had been the first word she'd had from Julia in over three years, a year after Tilly's disappearing act and Spike's "death." Now they had a job. A job for Vicious, and Tilly knew that Julia would never dare take her in to him. She herself had too much to lose if Vicious got his hands on Tilly again.

"I'd rather not, but it's how we work." Tilly returned to braiding Ed's hair. "It loses some of its effect if my hair is too dark."

"Spike will freak."

"I leave in the morning. He'll never see it," she shrugged tying off the end of one short braid.

Tilly physically turned Ed so she could make an identical braid down the other side of the girl's scalp. Poor Jet was buying everything Ed would need now that her body had finally chosen to assert itself as female, and Tilly had wanted to make sure that she was there for Ed. She also hadn't dared trust Faye with that much money alone. Spike would have said hell no, so that had left Jet.

"Are you sure you don't mind me taking the Redtail?" Tilly asked for the sixth or seventh time. Faye grinned and lit a cigarette.

"It'll be worth it when he finds out you've left again. He's hilarious when you're gone."

If Faye were truly honest, Faye wanted Tilly gone as much as Spike wanted her to stay. She had seen the pair growing closer, some unspoken intimacy revealing itself in their interactions. Faye bristled every time Spike held his hand out to indicate Tilly's place with him in the Swordfish when the group left for a bounty, and she fumed whenever they left to hunt a mark on their own. On the other hand, she laughed every time Spike got jealous over Tilly's flirting for information, and she encouraged Tilly's confidence in the hopes of getting something she could use to shatter Spike's growing trust in the girl. It was petty and beneath her, but Faye wanted to be the only belle at this ball, and Tilly was in the way.

Tilly knew what was going on. Faye was clever, but Tilly had been raised in a darker world than even Faye, for all her con work, could ever know. But Tilly needed an ally, even one with a knife poised at her own back, and Faye would have to do. But today was about Ed, and that took precedence. The convenience of getting ready for her next job was a coincidence.

With Ed's hair braided, Tilly handed the poor girl the last piece of chocolate from the box of assorted candies that O'Mara had sent from prison last month.

"Ed feels woozy. Tummy bad."

Ed swallowed the candy, barely chewing, and melted into Tilly's lap with a pitiful moan. Faye and Tilly exchanged a smile and cooed over the poor teenager.

"I'll go make some tea," Tilly said, petting Ed's head. "Can you keep her company?"

"Sure thing," Faye nodded. "I wish someone had done this for me at her age."

Tilly smiled and set a pillow under Ed's head before standing to leave. She left the bathroom, closing the door behind her, and took two steps straight into a now very familiar wall of muscle.

"Sorry Spike, excuse me."

"Hey," he stopped her. "I need in there. When do I get a turn?"

Tilly looked up into Spike's eyes and tried to ignore the disturbing flutter in her pulse.

"Not today," she shook her head. "You'll need to go to town."

"I'm not leaving the ship just to-" Spike stopped himself. "Just to use a bathroom."

Tilly tilted her head and regarded the bounty hunter, amused. Had it been Faye or Jet, Tilly had no doubt he'd have never cleaned up his language, yet he'd deliberately changed what he'd been about to say. Unwilling to reflect on his reasons, Tilly smiled sympathetically.

"I'm sorry, but I did warn you this morning that we were taking over the bathroom for the whole day. Unfortunately, something unexpected has happened and girls' day has become a necessity."

Spike's eyes flashed with anger and he narrowed his gaze, taking a step forward to tower over Tilly.

"I need to piss. I need to get in there. You have five minutes to clear them out."

"Ed's bleeding and too small for anything Faye or I use," Tilly stepped up on her toes to meet Spike's eyes more evenly, and was rewarded with the horrified look that spread across Spike's face. "Now, I'm trying to be nice, but it's her first day and she's not feeling well. Use a bucket or go over the side of the deck. I don't care. Boys are off limits for the day."

Spike's expression went cold and Tilly knew it was on.

"I'm gonna get in there, and you can't stop me."

"Watch me," she smiled coldly. Tilly turned then and continued toward the kitchen to make Ed some tea.

. .>. .>. .>

In a dark room in a cold apartment in a small town on the god-forsaken planet of Callisto, Julia sat staring at three photographs. Moonlight streamed in through the windows, illuminating the pictures and accentuating the cold atmosphere of the planet. In one photograph Julia, Vicious and Spike sat, Spike smiling and Vicious staring at Julia with Dowe's kitchen in the background. In another, Julia and Tilly were dressed and prepping their guns for a job. With their matching clothes and almost identical hair, the two were hard to tell apart. Only Tilly's tan coat had separated the two in their victims' eyes. Why Tilly had insisted on wearing the coat Julia had never figured out, but she had been adamant in her refusal to wear all black.

The third photo held the least interest for Julia, and in a way, she felt guilty about that. It was Tilly again, but her hair was dark, its natural color, and she sat on the grass in a park with two small children in her lap. The boy had pale blonde hair and the girl had dark hair that held odd green tints in its highlights. They both had their mother's eyes. Her eyes. Julia's eyes. Julia's children.

Julia shuddered. It was easier to think of them as Tilly's and not hers. She didn't want them. Even when she loved their fathers, she didn't want the children. Children did not factor into her life, but Tilly had taken to them. Tilly was marvelously domestic, and Julia had known the day she realized she was pregnant that nobody else could possibly be their mother. Tilly would kill for them. Tilly would die for them. Julia didn't care.

Beneath the photos lay the letter from Vicious. Shae was dead, good riddance. Swift was dead, a damn shame. Julia wondered fleetingly if Tilly had been attracted to the assassin. He seemed her type. But with their failure, Vicious had decided to bring in Julia.

She thought it was sick and rather disturbing that he was so focused on the girl that he had forgotten he was also searching for her. When his men had appeared, Julia had been ready to run for it, but the letter had been all he wanted delivered to her, nothing more. Strange that when he wanted to find her he couldn't, but when he wanted Tilly he knew right where Julia was. A stab of jealousy shot through her at the realization that Vicious could have probably taken her at any time and hadn't. There would be no such courtesy or restraint for Tilly. Tilly he would take.

But first, they had a job to do, Tilly and Julia. Something that should have been done right the first time. And then Julia would kill her. Tilly, she had decided, would have to die so Julia could resume her place in the game. She belonged first in their minds, not the little kid who used to tag along on recon jobs. Julia was the reason for the game. Her.