a/n: remember how things ended last chapter? well, that's where we're picking things up again. why? eh, why not. oh, and a very pivotal, i guess you could call it a twist, develops in the plot. and if you think it's going to be a good twist, then sorry. can't have things getting better yet, now can we? and it gets kinda prose heavy, but i think it's totally worth the read. it gives insight and all that jazz.
and good grief. six chapters in, and i'm now just remembering to do this. i absolutely do not own cowboy bebop. that honor goes to mr. watanabe and his staff. there, i've gotten that out of the way.
6. Midnight Crows and Ice Cream Woes
They both heard Ed burst into the ship, followed by a bellowing Jet and a yipping Ein, but neither adult moved from their place. For a moment, they thought they heard the doorknob jiggle, and Spike silently cursed his self for not locking it. But the door never opened, so perhaps they were just hearing things. It was for the best, though, since neither bothered to cover whatever bits of flesh that were exposed.
Several minutes later, the enticing smell of cooking meat wafted through the air vents and floated into the dim room. It was enough to make any hungry man drool, and both of their stomachs growled in unison. But still, neither shifted from their spot. With no movement other than their breathing, it was almost as if they were afraid to move. If they did, then what was left of them just might break. And they weren't ready for that.
"I know you're both in there, and that's why I'm not opening this door," Jet shouted as he pounded on said door. "But dinner is ready and I don't feel like waiting. So get your asses out here fast!"
Sighs escaped both of their mouths and Spike was the first to move. Rolling up into a sitting position, he stayed that way for a moment, and simply stared at his hands. Hands that had roughly attacked the woman at his side, hands that had also caressed her in kind; hands that had felt her breaking, and himself as well. Shaking himself and continuing out of the bed, Spike located his sparse clothing and wiggled his body into them. A rustling was heard behind him as Faye finally pushed herself up as well.
For a minute, Spike thought about heading for a shower. He had meant to take one after working out, but things didn't pan out that way. He needed one now more than before, but he was too hungry and too lazy to do so. Faye's thoughts were similar as she found that she was also too lazy, having just taken a bath a couple of hours earlier. But she also opted to shower later, only if to smell like him for a little while longer.
Glancing back to make sure Faye was dressed, Spike opened the door and headed out towards the common room. Letting a good thirty seconds pass by, Faye followed his lead. At the dinner table, aka, the coffee table, four plates where set out, filled with steak, potatoes and green beans, just waiting to be eaten. As she sat down to her food, Faye suddenly lost her appetite. It was a pity, too, considering she was the one who wanted the steak in the first place.
"I'm heading out. I'll be back eventually," Spike announced to the Bebop as he closed the door behind him.
Jet poked his head out of the kitchen, a dirty plate in hand, wondering once more where Spike was going. It was the seventh time in two weeks that the increasingly irritable man had disappeared for hours on end. Jet had no clue as to what was going on, but he suspected that it arouse from whatever happened that afternoon while he and Ed where at the store. There was just something about his and Faye's demeanors that seemed off. If he felt up to snooping, Jet was sure he could figure it out, but laziness was becoming an epidemic on the Bebop, and it seemed that everyone was catching it.
Wandering off after the dishes were done, Jet took a seat on the couch and lit up. For a moment after he inhaled, he panicked over thoughts of second hand smoke, but then sadly remembered that that wasn't a problem anymore. Staring aimlessly at the slowly rotating fan, Jet sighed out smoke and closed his eyes. He strained to listen for Ed and the mutt for a few minutes, but inevitably gave up on the task. Knowing that kid, she was probably slithering in the air ducts, or picking around the attic again.
Letting his mind wander, Jet thought about the silence, and felt mix emotions in its wake. He had been preparing himself for the cries of a newborn, knowing that any spawn of Spike and Faye would inevitably be a noisy creation, to say the least. But he didn't have to worry about that, now. He wasn't saying, or thinking in this case, that they wouldn't have another go at this parent thing, but it would be a while yet, considering that Faye and Spike where having trouble even being around one another right now.
Finishing off the remnants of his cigarette, Jet's ears picked up the light taps of Faye's bare feet, and waited for the woman to make her entrance. Coming around the couch and taking a seat next to the man, Faye rested her head on the cushions and gave a needy sigh. Not glancing at her, but picking up his pack of cigs, Jet offered one to her, only to have her wave them away.
"I guess it's hard to get back into those so soon," she told him. "I know it's been three weeks since…but I just don't get cravings anymore. Funny, huh?"
Jet didn't answer, but simply grunted in response. He leaned back into his spot and waited for her to start again.
"I guess you don't know where he went to this time, do you?"
"I never do," Jet finally spoke.
"Where do you think he goes?" She asked innocently enough.
"I dunno. What time does he get in?"
"…I dunno. We tend to not share a room anymore," Faye whispered, almost ashamed to say it.
"…I didn't know. Sorry."
"It's not your fault. Things are just…tense between us right now. He's upset about things, and so am I and we deal with it differently. He'll come around. His stupid lunkhead always does eventually."
Jet nodded his head, but didn't believe a word that she had said. If anything, this "thing" that Spike and Faye were dealing with, where breaking them apart in more ways then one. Jet hardly ever saw said man anymore, and when he did, he always seemed washed out, almost like he'd been crying only moments before. But tears weren't a Spike specialty, so Jet didn't quite buy that thought. At first, Jet had thought that Spike had relapsed, which actually scared him quite a bit, but the tell-tale signs thankfully weren't there.
Faye, on the other hand, was almost always close to tears. Or at least when her counterpart wasn't around. Truthfully, Jet was actually becoming accustomed to her this way, which wasn't good at all. Faye needed to get away from whatever kept her tied to her pain, but Jet couldn't dare tell her that. Though it may have been his place to do so, he had no clue as to how to say it to her. He figured he'd let her grieve a bit longer before he'd open his mouth about that.
"If the kid ever comes out of hiding, I was gonna take her out for ice cream. You want to come?"
"Don't you think it's a little late to give Ed ice cream? It is almost 10:30," Faye quipped as Jet broke the silence of their thoughts.
"I never said I was good at this."
Faye mulled over Jet's words and smiled at the man. Papa Jet, whether he wanted to be deemed that or not, always knew how to make her smile. It was a gift, she suspected, that he learned while he was still a cop. But the recognition of that fact was probably why she still didn't always get along with him.
"Yeah, I think I'll tag along. Just as long as you're footing the bill, of course."
The Midnight Crow was one of those bars that helped to wash away the troubles of your day. The atmosphere was relaxed and the patrons were friendly, or as friendly as they could fake it. Smoke from cigarettes and candles entangled together, creating that hazy feeling that your soul could get lost in. The lights were dim and the color of cobalt radiated throughout the building. Doubling as a club as well, a blues band played on in the background, the simple melody bringing everything together.
Sitting near the band, but more off towards the side, Spike reclined in the shadows and ran a finger around the rim of his glass. He opted for ginger ale tonight, seeing as he was trying his best to stay sober. One would think that a bar wouldn't be the place for a recovering, occasional alcoholic, but it worked for Spike. The smell of liquor was enough for him. He didn't need to taste it to remember how it felt when it slid down his throat. And for all of the problems that he had right now, he didn't need to toss a beer into the mix.
Bringing the glass to his lips, Spike took a sip of the bubbly liquid and jerked back slightly as the bubbles tickled his nose. Sighing impatiently as he put his head in his hands, Spike wondered why it was that he was so antsy. He figured he just wanted to go back to the way things were. Back before Gary and babies and addictions and Faye. He imagined he could have been quite content with his life if he just hadn't have fallen for her.
It wasn't the first time that Spike had rethought his relationship with the woman, but it was the first time that he actually began to agree with his ridiculous apprehensions. Sitting back in his chair, Spike didn't deny his fears anymore, basically because all of his fears had come true. He wasn't going to be a good father, simply because he wasn't going to be a father at all. He had failed to protect his child, and he had failed to protect Faye, and in his mind, that meant he had failed as a man.
Those weren't feelings that he was used to, and he'd prefer to never feel them again. When Julia died, he should have given up on love and all of that then. But no, he had to try again. He didn't understand why he thought that he deserved another chance at that. Faye did that to him, though. She made him believe that he was a better man then he really was, she made him think that he deserved to be happy. But he knew that was so very far from the truth.
He had killed people for the pettiest of reasons, and he had stolen and cheated and lied like a snake. He was no good from the day he was born, and he'd die no good, despite what the people in his life wanted him to think. Spike knew what he was and he knew that there would be no redemption for him in this life. Maybe if he had died again, he would have had a better chance at that. He was quickly wearing out his third life though, and he was sure that he wouldn't get a chance at another, not that he really wanted one anyway.
Taking another sip of his drink, Spike gingerly shook his head and had to wonder what had gotten into him. A beautiful woman had told him he was worth it, and like a love sick fool, he had believed her. But he wasn't worth it, she should have just let him die. The woman had a bad habit of holding on to what was never hers, though. Many times he had thanked her for that, yet in the end, he realized that he should have pushed her away so very long ago.
It wasn't fair to her, to Faye, the way the he was treating her now, but he was doing whatever it would take to show her that he was bad for her. He had to hurt her, because he still loved her. And in time, she'd finally get it through her thick skull, and she'd leave him alone, like he always should have been. A normal, or sane person would have told Spike that he could just break things off with her, if he wanted her to leave him, but in Spike's mind, he couldn't do that. He had to break her before she would understand.
And it hurt him to think that that's what he had to do. She would stick by his side through Hell and back, and he just couldn't allow her to endanger herself anymore. Faye always did have bad taste in men, and he was just continuing to prove that theory right. He figured he was off to a good start, ignoring her and all. It was hard to do, though, since she was so damn enticing all of the time. Even with tears always fresh in her eyes, Spike would never deny how attracted to her he was.
Attraction could only go so far, though. In the end, she would leave him, he'd make sure of that, besides, that's how things were supposed to be. Finishing off his drink and signaling for another one, Spike ran his hands through his mop of green hair and sighed with frustration. It was a shitty situation that he found himself in. He really didn't want to hurt Faye any more than he already had, but what more could she gain from him? He wasn't good for her, he wasn't marriage material, and he wasn't a father figure. He would never be what she needed, and he had come to terms with that.
"Hey there, it's good to see you back again," the waitress said to him as she sat down his drink, effectively breaking him from his thoughts. "It's funny, though, you've been here a few times now, but you've never ordered a real drink. Are you always the designated driver?"Spike looked up at the waitress in the low light, thinking if he wanted to answer her or not. He'd seen her every time he came here, tonight would mark his seventh visit, and every time, she'd happen to be the one to bring him his drink. She was cute, though, so he wasn't as annoyed with her as he could have been. Her peppy attitude hinted that she was a young girl, probably not even out of her teens.
"I don't drink anymore," he finally answered her.
"Oh, well that's okay. I don't really drink either."
He noticed that she lingered a bit, almost as if she wanted to say more. That, or she was waiting for him to speak. But when he didn't, she eventually flittered away. For the rest of the night, Spike nursed his drink, determined to not encounter the young woman again. He had noticed it when he first saw her, but after studying her more so tonight, Spike's face soured when he realized who the waitress reminded him of.
Julia. This girl was practically the spitting image of the her. If Spike hadn't have been holding the Julia when she died, then he could have easily mistaken her for the woman. The way her golden bangs fell around her face was classic Julia, as well as the way her true blue eyes twinkled. And Spike wasn't sure how he felt about that.
After his bout with heroin, and the horrible shape that it put him in, seeing the way Faye fought for him, Spike gained a new appreciation for her. He often times thought of Julia though, wondering if she would have tried as hard for him. He had the sinking feeling that she wouldn't have, and Spike had hated her for it. But he quickly got over that feeling, figuring that hating a dead woman wouldn't help anything. Besides, he had Faye, he had the strength she willingly gave him, and he thought that that was all he needed.
Every so often, though, Spike would think of Julia. In a way, he still loved her, if for nothing more than showing him what love was in the first place. But once again, that was unfair to Faye. He didn't want her to feel like she was second best, he didn't want her competing with a ghost, but now he found himself wondering what it would be like to have just one more chance with his angel.
Spike knew that such a thought was beyond ludicrous, but if he dared to examine any of his thought as of late, he would see that his whole basic train of thought was ludicrous. But Spike hardly ever tried to understand himself, and that was one, if not possibly, the worst trait he possessed.
In the course of his musings, lamentations, and thoughts, Spike lost track of time and wasn't brought back to reality until the bands' final call. Looking up as the lights began to brighten, which effectively broke the mood of the club, Spike squinted slightly, then gave a soft yawn. Checking his watch, he was slightly put off to see that is was a little before three a.m., but it wasn't anything to cry about. He was just about to get up and head back home, but someone sat down at his table, stopping his movements.
"Hiya." It was the waitress again. She was devoid of her uniform black apron and now just wore black pants and a white, button up top. Her hair was free from its bun, and that all too familiar golden hair cascaded over her shoulders.
"Hiya," Spike muttered back.
"So, you must really like it here, huh? You stayed till closing tonight."
Spike raised an eyebrow, wondering just how closely this kid had been watching him. Noticing Spike's reaction to her words, the waitress continued on.
"It's not like I've been watching you or anything, it just that it's not every day that a man with green hair comes in here. Not that you're hair's weird or anything. I kinda like it," she finished with a smile.
Staring on, Spike wasn't sure what to say to her and he wasn't sure what she wanted from him. He wouldn't deny that there was something about her upbeat personality that kind of interested him, but that still didn't dictate what he should do.
"By the way, my name's Delilah. It's a real old fashion name, and I guess that's why my mom named me that, but I like it well enough. It's different, that's for sure."
This time she ended with a giggle, and Spike was torn between liking her and hating her. He eyed her closely, then just as quickly looked away. Did she want his name now? While she may have been apt to talk to any stranger she saw, Spike, on the other hand, wasn't.
"I'm sorry," she began again. "I'm rambling, aren't I? That's always been a big problem of mine, talking too much an all. And I'm told I talk really fast, too, which sometimes throws people off. But I'll slow down if you need me too, and if I start to ramble, don't hesitate to tell me to shut up. I swear, sometimes I just really need –"
"What do you want?" Spike cut her off. While her antics were cute in a way, they where equally irritating as well.
"Oh…um," Delilah stopped short. "Well, you sure do get to the point, don't you? I guess I just wanted to say 'hi'. You looked so lonely over here by yourself, and all."
"I'm not lonely," he told her, not sure he believed what he was saying.
"Oh, sorry. I'll just leave you alone, then," she said almost dejectedly as she rose from her chair.
Finding himself frustrated by the girl's suddenly less than chipper attitude, the good guy in Spike tried to smooth things over.
"Sit back down," he told her.
Her eyes lit up again, her perk instantly back.
"I knew you wanted to talk to someone! So, what's your name, stranger?"
"…Spike," he finally gave in.
"That's a fun name. And I thought Delilah was out of the ordinary. Is that like some nickname of something?"
"No."
"Okay then. You sure don't talk much, you know that?"
"Is there anything you want me to say?"
"I dunno. Well, I guess we can start with the basics, so…how old are you?"
"You also get to the point, don't you?"
"There's no use beating around the bush, now is there? The best, and fastest way to get to know someone is to talk about the basics, right?"
"Sure…28," he told her, surprised that he answered her so willingly.
"You're 28? No way! I would have guessed, like, 24 at the very oldest!"
"Thanks?"
"You wanna guess how old I am?"
"No."
"Oh come on, why not?"
"I learned a long time ago that a man should never mess with a woman's age," Spike chuckled to himself as he remembered the slap that Faye had given him after a particularly scathing comment about her age.
"You're a smart man, aren't you, Spike? Well, I'll save you the trouble, then. I'm 20. I'll be 21 in August."
"Really," Spike said with little to no enthusiasm. Just what he needed, some teeny-bopper with a crush.
"Yep, really. But either which way, I'm still totally legal."
Spike was glad that his drink was finished, because if it wasn't, he would have taken a drink just to spit it out again. Her tone had significantly darkened as she said those last few words. What in the hell was she trying for?
"Straight-forward, aren't we?" He questioned.
"Well, I've always been known to be a real go-getter, and when I want something, I don't stop until I get it."
"And let me guess, you want me?" He finished for her, quite matter-of-factly.
"You really are smart, aren't you? Well, whaddaya say?"
"What do I say about what?" Spike asked as he found himself in an awkward, but intriguing situation.
"You know…see anything you want?"
"I…I've got a girlfriend," he told her, slightly shocked by how suddenly hard it was to say that.
"Really? Things must not be going good, if you spend most of the night here."
"What makes you say that?"
"I'm a woman, I have a sixth sense about things."
'Woman my ass,' Spike thought to himself. But regardless of whether things were rocky or not with Faye, and totally despite the fact that he was trying to get Faye to break things off with him…uh oh…not the best thought for Spike at the moment.
"So you're saying you'd sleep with me, even though you'd know that you'd be a part of an affair?"
"It wouldn't be the first time, and I least I'd know," Delilah giggled as she winked at him.
"Okay," Spike said as he tossed her a speculative glance. "Well, I gotta get going…"
Standing up and murmuring a quick 'good-bye', Spike headed out of the bar and started his walk home. If he could keep his mind focused on the cracks in the cement, or the number of street lights, then maybe Spike would be able to make it home without incident. Delilah had made him a very tempting offer, but Spike couldn't do that to Faye. He simply couldn't…could he?
Hearing the clack of chunky heels behind him, Spike hesitantly stopped and turned around, not surprised to see the girl catching up to him. He thought about making a break for it, since it wasn't like she would be able to catch him, but he decided to stay and see how this would play out.
"You left pretty quickly back there," she said, slightly out of breath.
"You're persistent, aren't you?"
"Like I said, I always get what I want."
"Someone could easily call you spoiled."
"True, but I promise you that I'm oh so sweet."
A smirk made its way to Spike's face as he saw little miss sweetheart turn into little miss sex kitten. If he were a weaker man, he would have already taken her up on her offer, but his resolve was a bit stronger still.
"Do you love her?"
"Who?" Delilah raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh, my girlfriend. Yes. I do."
"Would you be surprised if I told you that I don't believe you?"
"Believe what you will."
"Well, if you insist."
Feeling the need for some nicotine, Spike reached into his jacket pocket and fished out a cig. He momentarily thought about offering Delilah one, but quickly thought against it. If you give a mouse a cookie, and all. Lighting it and taking a long drag, Spike wearily eyed the girl as she excitedly eyed him back.
"I always thought that smoking could be incredibly sexy. And since you were already sexy to begin with, your hot factor just shot through the roof!"
"You sure know how to compliment a guy, don't you."
"So," she said as she stepped up to him, effectively backing him up into the wall of a building. "Do I have to keep pushing, or are you gonna take control."
Dropping his unfinished cigarette to the ground below, Spike grabbed the girl by her upper arms and pulled her towards him. But just as fast, he pushed her away and started to walk to the Bebop again. He sighed and wondered what he had gotten himself into as he heard her jog to catch up with him.
"Hey, why do you keep walking away from me?" She called to him, anger registering in her young voice.
"Because I don't want to do something that I'll regret."
"So you are thinking about my offer, aren't you?"
"A little too much."
"You won't regret this, I know you won't!"
"Bet you I will…"
"Well, we all have to do something worth regretting, don't we?"
"I've already exhausted all of my somethings."
Stopping abruptly and whipping his face towards hers, Spike was feeling a sort of desperation he hadn't felt since the first time he kissed Julia. He was ridiculously apprehensive, yet unnervingly enthusiastic. But most of all, he was actual afraid, afraid of what this could lead to and what this could do.
"What do I have to do to get you to leave me alone?" He forcefully asked her.
"You know the answer to that," she coyly retorted.
"Well, I can't do that."
"Well, then I can't leave you alone. I'm only pushing because I know you want me. I'm not stupid, and I'm not blind. And I don't believe you love this girlfriend of yours. Well, at least not enough to stop contemplating my offer. As long as you don't tell her, I'm sure she'll never know. This can just be a secret between you and me."
She smiled at him in a sickeningly sweet way. She really did go after what she wanted, and her approach was pretty ruthless. But Spike wasn't going to give in, he just couldn't justify it. Turning away, which was so much harder than before, Spike was intent on making it back home.
"What could it hurt, Spike? It's just a slight change of heart."
And those words stopped him in his tracks. If he wasn't mistaken, then those where the exact same words that Julia had said to him the first night they were together. It was uncanny and wholly impossible, but the words were quite the same. Not believing in higher powers, but deciding to give things a go, Spike believed that fate was toying with him. He had to choose what path he'd take, and as he started back up his walk home, he was sure he was choosing the high road.
By the time he finally made it to the Bebop, flustered and wondering how it had taken him so long to walk seven blocks, Spike fumbled around for his key. He searched his pockets once, twice, three times, but couldn't find it anywhere.
"What's the matter," Delilah called from the dock, "can't get in?"
He didn't regard her, but knocked on the door, instead. Someone would let him in, all he had to do was knock loud enough. After several minutes, though, Spike began to rethink his plan.
"Aww, and nobody's home, either?"
Sighing, Spike looked over the old ship and tried to think of another way to get in. The only other way in would be to go through the hangar, but he didn't have a remote to open the door, and Jet had never told him the code for manual override. He could climb in through one of the vents, but he risked being seen by someone, and then the cops would be called, and that was too much of a headache to deal with. Realizing that fate was having a real hard laugh at him, Spike slumped against the unyielding metal door and surrendered.
"Where do you live?"
so...the plot thickens. what will spike do? i hope his procession to this crossroad made sense, though. guilt, desperation and a touch of spike spiegel craziness can make one do some crazy things, huh? well, we'll see what what's goes down the next time around. thanks for stopping by.
phoenix
