Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Cowboy Bebop in any sense, and simply watch and write about it for my own pleasure and entertainment to hopefully bring to the same to others.

A.N.: Dedicated to my two lovely betas which did an amazing job helping me fine tune this piece. Thank you Meaghan and Virginia.

Wolf Cub

By Crystal Delphina

Completed: April 6, 2007

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They sat there for a few minutes, watching the white static on the screen, frozen and confused as to what they had just witnessed. They sat there, looking to see if there would be more.

All four members of the Bebop crew sat and stared at the screen in silence. That was the case at least until they heard the click of heels leaving the entrance to the den, then the footsteps retreating down the hallway, increasing in speed, until they finally gave up listening as the echo disappeared . Then only three members of the Bebop crew sat in the den, simply looking towards the now empty entrance.

They didn't see her at dinner when Jet served rice and what had been a dehydrated fish from Ganymede. She never appeared for the briefing on a new target they had planned on pursuing the next day, earlier in the week before the shipping surprise had come. And there was no sign of her when her comrades of legal drinking age partook in their nightly ritual of booze and pointless bickering, a favorite pastime of hers that she never missed.

Faye did not leave her room until three in the morning Mars orbital time.

Who am I?

The ship was silent except for the gentle hum of engines and operational systems and only a few dim lights glowed on their night settings. Her head poked out of her door, glanced either direction down her hall, and upon determining there were no sleepwalkers, she stepped out and headed towards the mess.

She quietly snuck down the halls, thankful that her socks were silent upon the metal floors. She was in no mood to confront other members of the ship at the moment. It was difficult enough with her own questions. She didn't need theirs as well to add to the already mounting confusion.

I ask myself that question nearly every day.

Her stomach gave a small growl, as she approached the kitchen area, trying to decide if she should grab an instant ramen or a nondescript can of mystery. However, in the middle of the counter sat a small container filled with the rice and fish from that night's dinner, an unexpected gift from one of the crewmembers, which surprised her. In all likelihood it had been Jet, who had possibly managed to overlook his current displeasure with her and the money she owed him. 'Maybe if he's feeling extremely generous, he'll just forget that little debt I owe him for the C.O.D.s altogether,' she considered, as she opened the fridge to grab a beer. She took a seat at the counter and began to slowly eat her 'dinner' in contemplative silence.

She had started walking back towards her room after the initial shock from viewing that disturbing… (what had Ed referred to it as? A zeta tape? No that didn't sound right…a…beta. A beta tape, that's right) beta tape had worn off but after a few feet her pace quickened, and finally by the time she rounded the corner to make her way to her hallway, she was sprinting. She tried to run as far away from that tape and that gray dead static screen as fast as possible.

I wish I could pretend I didn't care about my past. Trust me, I really do.

When she had finally reached her room, smashed her fingers against the keypad to unlock the door, and managed to get all the way to her bed before she finally allowed herself to cry, she was rather proud of herself in a strange sense. Part of her had dreaded the possibility that on the trek back to her room she would break down crying against one of the ship walls. An even larger part of her dreaded the idea that she might have begun crying right there in the den in front of the others, which would have been unacceptable; she would never allow herself to be that weak around them.

Panic had overtaken her while lying on her bed; her heart beat too rapidly to be healthy, her short breaths were labored, and the tears just wouldn't seem to stop, despite her attempts to wipe them away and squeeze her eyes tightly shut. Her chest felt compressed, as if someone were squeezing the air from her lungs and clutching her heart in a steel grip. She allowed herself the momentary consideration of jumping into her ship and going for a 'drive', but then reached the conclusion that it would be a dangerous and reckless decision. And yes, every now and again, she was capable of deciding not to pursue dangerous and reckless courses of action.

After forty-seven excruciating minutes of having difficulty breathing, crying and frantic heartbeats, she fell into an emotionally exhausted sleep.

But the truth of the matter is that finding out who I am, is the only thing that's kept me going the past few years. Oh, and avoiding bill collections.

Dreams of a young girl plagued her. A young girl who was laughing, smiling, had bright eyes and a wide grin. A girl who was surrounded by girls her own age, who must have been her friends. A young girl with sparkling green eyes and short purple hair that looked as if it hadn't been brushed in a while. The girl played at a park, with large grass hills, water fountains, and trailing paths through wooded areas. The girl slept in a large pink bed, in a large pink room filled with dolls and toys and brightly colored pictures of friends and family.

Who am I?

The girl was a complete stranger. Faye had never seen her before in her life. And though they may have looked similar, their personalities were completely opposite, along with their choices in room décor. Her room now was a bare steel cage littered with crushed cigarette cartons and dozens of cigarette butts, rounds of ammo, pistols, various other gadgets to assist in bounty hunting, and wrinkled clothes; certainly no pictures or personal comfort items. Even her bed was a generic dull blue which she picked because she figured it was a safe bet that it might have been her favorite color in her previous life. According to the horrible tape, she had picked wrong.

The dreams she had that night were not memories; not her memories at least. The dreams were merely the tape rewound and played again and again in her mind – a nightmare stuck on playback where she was forced to play someone who was nothing like her.

Who am I supposed to be?

She awoke in a cold sweat, the sheets twisted around her frame and her pillow damp from tears. She felt a dull ache in her stomach, at which point she decided it was time to get up, splash some cold water on her face, sneak out of her room, and go on a reconnaissance mission for food and booze.

Her 'meal' finished, and tired of dwelling on the dreams, Faye stood up, grabbing her beer in the process, and decided to start heading back towards her room. However, after only a few steps, she paused and reconsidered her actions. Quickly spinning back around, she returned to the counter, scooped the dishes up off the surface and pushed them into the already open dishwasher; it was the least she could do in return for Jet's kindness. Upon further consideration, she also paused to grab herself a second beer out of the fridge. Done with her night raid, she shut the lights off and left the room.

Wandering down the dark ship corridors, she glanced down the corridor that would lead to the den, and then quickly made a detour towards it. The door slid open, the only light coming from Ed's Tomato screen, thought the teen girl and her canine companion were nowhere in sight. Seeing the…screenbox… (was it called a television? Fucking old antiques were pointless) and the beta player beside it, she rushed over to search the device for the mysterious tape. Her hand slid inside the slot, feeling for the hard plastic tape, but there was nothing there.

Surprised and now somewhat anxious over its apparent disappearance, she looked on either side of the beta player and the screenbox, the tape showing up in neither location. She got down on her hands and knees and began looking underneath and behind, searching near the coffee table, shuffling and moving things around. She even rummaged through the box that the beta player had come in, throwing the packaging foam in all directions as she dug through the box only to come up empty handed. She briefly considered tipping the box over and shaking it out, but not wanting to clean up the resulting mess, and not needing further wrath from Jet, she decided against it. The tape was clearly gone.

"Maybe Jet's not such a saint and is actually holding it ransom," she muttered bitterly, getting up from the floor with a sigh. She snatched her beers off of the top of the…screenbox (really...what the hell had Ed called it?) and stomped back towards her room, only to find her arch nemesis leaning against the wall beside the door with his arms crossed over his bare chest, an unlit cigarette resting in his lips.

How do you define me?

She didn't acknowledge him - not even with a glance, as she shifted both cans to one hand and used the free one to unlock her door using the keypad. She walked in and, without a word, he followed, an invitation not needed between the two. Although the room was small, it could comfortably fit the two with her half sitting/ half reclining on her bed, and with him straddling a chair, his arms crossed over the back of it. The silence stretched on between the two, even when she handed him the extra beer she had intended to keep for herself as a late night pick me up. They drank, stillness wrapping around them in the dimly lit room, occasionally holding eye contact, before one of them would break it to examine some random aspect of the room or inspect the remaining contents of their bottle.

Finally there was an, "I don't want to talk about it."

And to her surprise…

"Good, neither do I."

The gypsy. The lush. The gambler. The cheater. The manipulator. The con. The liar. The thief.

A thin eyebrow quirked in response to his unexpected reply. Upon further contemplation, the eyebrow resumed its natural resting place. The fact of the matter was that he wasn't a terribly nosy or curious person in general when it came to other people's affairs. This fact was only further highlighted when it came to matters involving the female bounty hunter. He seemed to reach new heights of apathy. With this in mind, she shouldn't have been taken aback by his retort.

In some far corner of her mind, she allowed herself a fleeting moment of disappointment, but quickly shoved the emotion aside. She didn't care either. Not really at least. Truth be told, it wasn't important whether she was upset or not, especially since it wouldn't make a difference to him either way.

She downed the rest of her can with a large audible gulp.

I am not sweet. A cheerleader. I don't have best friends. I've never had best friends.

The bed squeaked ever so softly as she got off of it and walked the short three paces across the room to toss the bottle into her already overflowing trashcan. Her hand brushed the side of his arm unintentionally as she headed back towards her bed, and before she could really react his arm snaked from behind her to grab her securely around the waist.

She wasn't startled. She wasn't surprised. She didn't gasp. She instead continued to look straight ahead towards her bed, as if he hadn't just interrupted her journey. The only sign that he had was simply that she wasn't moving forward any longer. However, she was aware of how warm the skin of his arm was around her bare midriff, even though the room wasn't that cold. She could feel his fingers pressing against her, curling ever so slightly as they made small movements to stroke her back. She could also hear him moving against the chair, his can being placed on the desk nearby, and the rustle of clothes as he stood. Soon there were two arms around her waist with fingers stroking the soft skin they found, and a nose pressed against the back of her head breathing in the scent of her hair.

She continued to stare straight ahead.

At least as far as I knew…

"Why'd you come?" she whispered into the semi darkness.

"Because you need me." Warm breath tickled the nape of her neck as lips moved against the skin there, breathing out the barely audible words in husky whispers, "because you need me right now."

"You know that's not true."

"Liar."

He moved his right hand from her hip to press his palm flat against her taunt stomach.

When he had so casually called her a liar, her eyes closed; it was pointless to argue with him further, when he was telling the truth.

How do you define me? What do you see when you look at me?

Bringing his other arm up, he wrapped it around the front of her shoulders, securely embracing her from behind and keeping her close to him. He placed a kiss to her back right at the center between her shoulder blades, and the fingers that were wrapped around her shoulder blades gave a gentle squeeze.

"Whether you like it or not, I'm here, and it's because you need me." It seemed to her that his whispered words cut harshly through the air, as she was forced to face the truth in them. She didn't want to have to deal with any more realities today; it was all beginning to be too much. All she wanted at this point was their normal catty relationship with the man behind her; she wanted to get into a meaningless fight, wanted him to yell at her and roll his eyes, wanted to stomp her foot and call him an idiot. She wanted her life to go back to its so called 'normal' state, the one she had acquired while here on the Bebop, and the one that he had helped to shape.

"Stop saying that," she softly growled back in reply.

But that wasn't possible at the moment. She was too tired and too drained to even attempt to fight with him. And as much as her mind demanded she reset the balance in their precarious relationship, her heart yearned to accept the comfort and security he was willing to offer right now.

However Faye, being Faye, formed a compromise that only made logical sense to her. She wouldn't be weak and rely upon him, but she wouldn't break out into a pointless argument either. All she wanted from him at the moment was for him to help mask the feelings and the thoughts that had been a whirlwind in her head since the beginning of the evening. She just didn't want to feel for a few precious stolen moments - free from her confining and confusing past.

She placed her hand over the one that was resting against her stomach, and taking a deep breath, she leaned back against his frame allowing herself to be further enveloped by his presence and hold around her. He placed his chin atop her shoulder and tilted his head to the side to rest against her own.

Silence ensued in the small metal room, and she gradually began to feel uncomfortable and grow anxious with the situation. Their embrace was much too…intimate, as many of their interactions these days had grown to be. If things of this sort kept up, she might actually begin to fool herself into thinking that the lunkhead behind her actually cared about her, a costly misjudgment on her part. This was not the time for intimacy, to appear as if they were more than just casual lovers and begrudging comrades – it was not a good time (nor ever would be) to look as if they actually cared for each other. She had to change things quickly before either of them became disillusioned.

Do you feel anything when you look at me?

She took a small step forward to loosen his hold, and then turned to face him, looking up directly into the dark brown eyes that looked nearly black in the shadowy room. She imagined she could see herself reflected in the dark coffee colored eyes, could see him taking her in, sizing her up, scrutinizing the expressions that flickered briefly across her face before being replaced by her mask. She imagined he saw her and saw something new, exciting, something he had been needing and wanting, something that she could provide. She imagined that…

Suddenly standing up on her toes, she gained the necessary few inches to close the height difference between them and capture his lips with her own, her hands finding their way to his bare shoulders. She gripped the hard flesh she found there, trying to stabilize her precarious balance against his solid frame, and trying to deepen the furtive kiss that had caught him off guard. Because she so rarely was able to surprise him, she took the brief advantage to slip her tongue into the warm recesses of his mouth, silently urging him to react in kind.

Large hands - rough and calloused from martial arts, fixing the Swordfish and the metal of his guns – closed around her hips, pulling her firmly against him as he kissed her back fiercely. He began walking forwards, forcing her to take small steps backwards, moving towards the bed as they kept kissing, fighting for dominance with desperate lips and fleeting touches upon each others flesh. She let him guide them both to across the small room crowded with the clutter of forgotten clothes, abandoned makeup laying on surfaces, the occasional beer can stuffed in a corner. Other than these material and wasteful things, there was nothing within the room that defined her. There were no pictures on the walls, nothing permanent, completely different from that foreign room found on the flickering screen.

She didn't know why she was thinking about the lack of pictures or hideous pink rooms when the man with her was slipping his hands underneath her loose yellow top and feeling the soft skin found there. She realized with alarm that she wasn't concentrating on what was going on - wasn't concentrating on him - and was allowing herself to dwell on exactly the things she didn't want to. Fingers laced into the dark curls of his hair, urgently pulling down to deepen the kiss further as her eyes slid shut. She began to slowly descend to the mattress below, pulling him down with her, when she felt the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed, causing her to sit down. Instead of feeling him pushing her to lie back, as she had expected, she felt him kneel beside the bed, in-between her legs, their lips now level. Puzzled, she pulled back slightly to regard him, and he gave a small lopsided mischievous grin.

Somewhere, deep inside, some of the weight upon her heart lifted with that smile. But those brown eyes pierced her soul and made her want to close her eyes.

I'm not that little girl. I never will be. She's sweet, nice, kind, happy…

Their eyes locked as he moved his head to her exposed neck, placing kisses upon the pale skin there and drawing a small pleasurable sigh from the woman. He moved his kisses down along the sides of her neck to her collarbone and then the small amount of skin exposed above her shirt that led directly to her chest. Without bothering to ask, he undid the fastening of the yellow top, allowing her breasts to spill out from their confines. She hissed as the chilled air of the room moved across her exposed flesh, but soon a mouth sought to rectify the situation with warm kisses and licks. She held his head tightly against her, urging him to continue lavishing her with his tongue, and was mildly disappointed when instead of the continued attention to her breasts as she had expected, he moved in-between the mounds to begin kissing his way down to her navel.

Hands that had previously been preoccupied with the small of her back after they had unhooked her shirt were now were traveling down her sides, sending small shivers coursing through her body. They rested firmly upon her hips and his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her shorts, only managing to pull them down slightly. Taking the hint, and desperate to have the cloth barrier gone, she lifted her hips to allow him to slide the offending article of clothing away, tossing it haphazardly behind him. The shorts could easily be found and retrieved in the morning; Faye wanted him now.

He paused to glance up at her, and she feared for a moment what he would see in the glazed green depths. Were her eyes too cold and unfeeling? Too warm and inviting? Too truthful or too filled with lies? Too young or too old? Could he see the want in them? Or did he see the thinly veiled need there as well? She bit her bottom lip in worry, as he kept looking straight into her eyes, and she feared the analytical gaze. She couldn't take his scrutinizing her any longer and she closed her eyes, trying to lose herself in the sensations of her body. She couldn't decide if his gaze was causing the warm feelings swirling through her or if they were being dampened by his steel cold look.

She just wanted to be lost in physical feelings and pleasures.

I could never be that.

"Look at me Faye." His warm breath sent shivers down her spine as it hit her stomach, and she tried to ignore the instinct to obey his command. She didn't want to look, not quite yet, not when she still was struggling to maintain the façade.

Another shiver struck her when she realized she was no longer sure what façade she was trying to keep up. What mask was she supposed to be wearing now? The vixen or the shy damsel in distress?

Dimly, the image of a little girl flashed in her mind's eye. A young teenage girl she neither recognized nor could call a stranger.

Do you see her…and wish that she was me?

She bit the inside of her lip. He kissed the inside of her thigh. The simultaneous actions brought her back to the moment, and she let out a deep sigh and finally opened her eyes. She couldn't allow herself to get lost in her own thoughts, and closing her eyes seemed to result in that unwanted situation.

She locked eyes with the man who was currently kneeling in between her legs and scrutinizing her face.

He placed another kiss on the inside of her thigh, this time closer to her center, closer to where she wanted him to be. He slowly ran his hand up the inside of the other thigh, and as the hand moved its way up her flesh, the small kisses followed on their own set path. Each of his movements seemed torturously slow, torturously arousing in his leisurely approach, and all the while they continued to intently look at each other. His stare, as he casually kissed the sensitive skin of the juncture at the top her thigh, heightened the heated excitement that surrounded her.

He paused, as her sex was framed by his hand on one side and his lips painfully close on the other, and she felt her breath catch as she finally saw some deep struggle in her comrade. She saw it there, hidden within dark brown irises, that although he obviously he enjoyed his own games, he too was wanting her. Desire. It was there, right there, and she could see it.

That, more than anything else, almost made her jump up from her prone position to trap him on the floor and have sex right there. Thankfully her restraint prevailed.

She was rewarded when after those few moments pause, he bent his neck down to her center, those brown eyes still gazing at her, and dipped his tongue between her moist folds, and after a few slow long licks began to greedily invade the warmth there, sucking and licking with fervor. She had to resist the incredible urge at that moment to close her eyes, and instead settled on a quiet low moan. She felt him smirk against her as he dutifully continued his task of bringing her intense pleasure, and although she attempted a scowl, she quickly gave up in favor of beginning to try and move her hips in time with his ministrations. Fingers previously twisted into the starch blue sheets of her bed, found their way to tangle into the dark curly locks of his hair, using their grip to push his head down towards her further, trying to deepen the shallow penetration. He momentarily considered ignoring her silent pleas for more in favor of prolonging the teasing. But that changed when her legs wrapped around him, squeezing against his back, and she began panting his name. Liquid fire curled its way through his stomach and loins, as her husky voice filled his ears, a small groan admitting from his own lips before finally delving deeper as she desired. When her hips became more active, trying to move against his mouth, his grip upon her waist tightened to pin her to the bed, with little resistance on her part.

She was so close to the edge. So very, very close. Just a few more licks, just a flick or two of his tongue against her nub, would send her crashing into sensual oblivion. She moaned his name again and arched her back welcoming her impending orgasm.

He pulled away much to her frustration. Thoughts of ways to sexually torture him as an act of revenge swam rapidly through her head despite the fog of arousal in her brain.

When he slowly looked up from in between her legs, a sly smirk forming, she downright wanted to murder him - after they fucked.

Please…just see…me… and no one else

She sat up as best she could and shot him an icy glare, to which there was no response except his devilish smile.

"Why the hell did you stop??"

"Oh, did you want me to continue?" She wasn't certain, but it looked as if he was waggling his eyebrows at her. Was that even possible?

Now a normal 'Faye response' would have included a roll of her eyes and lethal words from her sharp and sarcastic tongue - most likely followed by a slap against the side of his head for punctuation. So you can imagine his surprise when instead of the expected customary retort, she instead managed to sit up and lean towards him, her hands going to either side of face and fingers lacing into his hair. Tilting her head to the side, she moved her lips to his ear, grazing the lobe with her teeth.

"I not only wanted you to continue, I wanted you to make it even better by joining me in the finish."

The sultry whispered words made his eyes darken and his previous smirk quickly strained into a thin set line.

Without another word between them, he moved his head to capture her lips in a harsh kiss, her mouth opening without hesitation to welcome his intruding tongue. With one fluid movement, he managed to rise up and push her back onto the bed, lips lock throughout the whole ordeal of him falling atop her and readjusting their limbs to latch onto one another. The bed quickly became a mess of dislodged sheets, legs wrapped together, hands clutching at anything they could grasp onto, and a missing pillow that had been knocked down to the floor, forgotten in the desperate need to be closer. As he continued to ravage her mouth with his own, both of their hands moved for his sweatpants simultaneously, fighting to pull the elastic down past his hips and then knees. Finally he kicked the black pants away and she could feel his hardened member rubbing against the inside of her thigh.

She could feel his shoulders tense as he resisted the urge to penetrate her and instead choose to break their kiss and move his lips to trail down her rose tinted chest. He panted against her skin, tasting the slight traces of salty perspiration on her skin. He rested his head against her bosom, pressing his forehead to the space between, breathing deeply and trying to regain control over his frazzled senses.

She moaned his name again and pressed her hips upward against his, urging him to move and relieve some of the mounting tension. His head shot up to look at her half lidded eyes laced with desire. Shoulders tensed again and his mouth seemed to go impossibly dry just from looking at her.

She dug her nails into the skin of his back, a mischievous light growing behind her dark green eyes, "Tell me, do you plan to ever move?"

"Be quiet, you," he replied by greedily capturing her lips again. And with his lunge upwards to do so, he finally slide within her slick passage, to their mutual relief.

Their movements were erratic at first, unable to time their thrusts in their frantic need for pleasure; small grunts and moans filled the air despite the inconsistent pace. Even with his bruisingly hard grip upon her hip and her thigh to pull her tighter against him, and trying to synchronize their actions, she still seemed to have no sense of pace, her speed and movements fluctuating as she wildly clawed at his skin trying to find purchase.

Despite her best intentions, her thoughts drifted back to earlier in the day as he moved against her. She led a different life just a mere fifteen hours ago and now things had changed. She hadn't wanted them to change, not this way, but they had regardless. She wanted time to stop. She wanted to rewind the day and go back, just as in the tape. Letting those fuzzy bits of 'memories' that kept appearing, to be sucked back into her subconscious, into the black vortex. She wanted it all to rewind, erase, to never have had it happen.

With his head nestled against the crook of her neck, he could feel her erratic pulse against his lips that occasionally lightly nipped at the juncture of her shoulder. Finally fed up with the actions that seemed to be getting nowhere, he raised himself up to lean over her, resting all his weight on outstretched arms placed on either side of her shoulders. Her eyes were closed and white teeth delicately bit her lower lips as purples strands of hair, darkened from sweat, stuck to her forehead. She looked lost.

When he pulled away from her, although he still remained inside of her, her labored breathing stilled momentarily and she lazily opened her eyes, having to concentrate on the face that seemed to waver above her. "What's wrong?" she asked, panting and trailing her hands from his back to grip lightly at the sides of his neck. "Come now, you can't already be done?" she said, giving a coy smile.

"What do you want Faye?"

Now I'm thinking… that I wish I hadn't found her. Because 'my only self' is…has grown to be…

Her smile faltered as her face froze in brief panic, her dark emerald eyes widening, as mahogany eyes seemed to pierce her fro the umpteenth time that night. "W-what do you mean?" she asked, trying to give a small grin that really only made one corner of her mouth rise. When he didn't smile back, much less change the grim expression on his face, she gave up the failed pretense of confusion, and instead looked back at him with an equally serious look.

"I mean what do you want right now, because it doesn't appear to be… this," he muttered, emphasizing his point with a small thrust forward, bringing their bodies together again. The question echoed in her mind, near impossible to answer at the moment. To answer the question would be to admit to dwelling on her unhappy thoughts, even during sex, and admit to the deep need within her to erase them, if only for a few stolen hours. "I do want this," she said softly, pressing up against him as best she could, eager to convey her words physically. The fleeting glimpse of wavering resistance was there in his eyes and demonstrated by the small groan he gave with her attempt to coax him back into sex. Her fingers pressed down firmly against the back of his neck and shoulders as she used them as leverage to lift herself up again, pressing against him harder resulting in his member moving deeper inside of her. A much louder groan emitted from his lips on her third thrust, and on the fourth, he was fully back on top of her, their thrusts finally timed correctly to heighten their pleasure.

She kept her eyes open this time, concentrating solely on everything that involved the two of them, everything that was that current moment of lust and desire and nothing else; everything that kept her from thinking her dark thoughts concerning the 'past'. Anything that allowed her to fool herself into believing that the 'past' was of no importance to her and the only thing that mattered was the man above her with whom she was having sex. If she didn't fool herself, she ran the dangerous risk of being unable to fool him, and he was far too perceptive to allow such a transgression to take place. Hot wet kisses consumed her mouth, breathy moans and rough grunts filled her ears, and fiery touches fueled her pleasure and desire allowing her to get lost in the lie as the pressure within her center mounted.

A fraud.

She could feel the end nearing, waiting with eager anticipation to be thrown into the dark abyss of ecstasy. And judging by his increasingly forceful drives into her, he too was very close to the edge. His head moved beside her own, his mouth right over her ear, his voice a husky whisper as he had trouble managing to form the words, "What do you want Faye?" His hand slid down her side to move between them and move between the soft dark purple curls to press firmly against the engorged jewel he found there. Her back arched and she gasped loudly, wrapping her legs firmly around the backs of his thighs and calves, any type of logical thought, much less attempts at speech, leaving her brain in a flurry. "Tell me what you want," he repeated for the third time that night and made the move to make her move into him again and make her give that enticing moan that made him shudder.

"I want to forget," the words slipping out of her mouth before she could even process what she was saying. Small tendrils of fear in regards to his reaction crept up, trying to reach out and obliterate the drug like haze that kept the reality of herself at bay. Much to her relief, he did not still their hurried movements or turn to look at her in shock or confusion; it seemed that no other words were needed as he understood immediately what she meant. In fact, in response, he moved his head to kiss her again attempting to greedily steal precious breathes of air from her already overexerted lungs. The result was a true haze that muddled her mind and made her feel as if she was disconnected from her body, floating and no longer herself. All she could do was feel.

But that little girl still stood there, off in the distance, waving her arms in an attempt to be noticed.

I'm sorry me. I'm sorry I wasn't who you wanted me to be. If you are in fact me.

She wanted to erase the tape. Again. Just as it had been erased fifty years ago. She didn't want that film back now. Didn't want dream-like memories – just wanted the black unknowing void back.

And I'm sorry that when you look at me…

"So forget then," he mumbled against her lips, peering at her through bangs that hung over his eyes. Despite the dim lighting that gave a dull hue to everything in the room, her eyes still seemed to sparkle and he could tell she was deeply contemplating his offer, despite the more 'pressing' matter. He stilled within her, waiting for her answer. Suddenly she moved upwards, forcefully pressing her lips against his and her hands gripping him even tighter to her. When she finally pulled back from the harsh and needy kiss, that coy look of mischief was boiling behind her gaze, the look that he was used to receiving from her; that look alone managed to speak volumes and answer the question.

"Fuck me," she said. He grunted as she pulled her hips back to the best of her limited capabilities, the friction making him bite the inside of his cheek. Wisely, he took her cue, and pulled back as well till only the head of his pulsing length was at her opening. "Fuck me," she repeated, her eyes holding a challenge in their green depths. He momentarily held her gaze before deciding to take the bait. Pushing himself fully into her, they began their rapid thrusting, working in tandem to bring the other closer to desired completion. "Fuck me so I can forget me," she whispered breathily against his shoulder, the small plea barely reaching his ears above the sound of his heartbeat.

"Faye…," was all he could manage as he felt the end nearing. She gasped and writhed beneath him, moaning his name as she finally allowed the pleasure to completely wash over her, quickly losing herself in pure feeling. She lost herself in feeling him - in being with him - and having nothing else matter during those few precious moments as her veins seemed to pulse with barely contained heat that was threatening to ignite into flames. And with that heat and the impending flames of orgasm, any remaining traces of an adolescent girl in a cheerleading outfit and pompoms vanished in a white hot light that filled her vision.

She let loose a hoarse yell that filled the small room and echoed off the metal walls, soon joined by his own deep groans, which accompanied the release of his seed.

I'm sorry that I don't know who I am.

They lay there on her small bed amongst the disheveled sheets, heavy panting interrupted by the occasional small kiss given to the side of a neck or a shoulder; a tangle of sweaty limbs and bodies. As the last intoxicating feelings of their orgasmic rush began to fade, he finally pulled out of her and moved to her side, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her firmly against him so they faced each other. She felt one of his hands come up; the light touch of his fingertips traced along her chin and move up the line of her jaw to cross over onto her still flushed cheeks. When those fingers brushed against her still closed lids, she realized she had no choice but to face the reality of life, despite her precious but brief escape. Slowly she allowed her eyes to flicker open and readjust to the light and the person directly in front of her who peered intently at her. The sight of deep mahogany momentarily sped up her heart and panic overtook her mind; the peril of unanswered questions and confusing half-memories threatening to spill back into her consciousness. The panic must have reached her eyes and become clearly visible to her companion, as he hastily closed the gap between them and kissed her fully on the lips, before quickly pulling back and giving a small grimace, "Stop that."

"What?" she asked honestly confused with what exactly he was demanding she stop doing.

"Stop thinking, and just go to sleep," he said, giving an irritated sigh complete with a customary eye roll. She opened her mouth with the start of a protest before he quickly cut off all further attempts at her excuses: "Just forget it. I told you the past didn't matter, so just fucking forget it."

"Bu-"

"I'm going to sleep, you should too," he murmured, closing his own eyes, as she continued to stare at him, traces of irritation in her eyes. When she was about to open her mouth again - most likely to provoke him in some way to start a small fight - he instead pulled her tighter against him and let out a deep sigh as he nuzzled the top of her head with his own. "Just sleep. I'll protect you from the boogieman under your bed."

She didn't have to look up to visually confirm the small smile she heard in his voice. And while typically she'd be annoyed at his teasing, although only a slight transgression, she paused before finally relaxing in his grasp and weaving her arm under his to wrap over his side, moving her head to rest against the top of his chest. Just this once, she'd allow him to stay in her bed and comfort her. Even though she'd never dare admit she needed it and this intimacy after sex was a violation of their unofficial rules of engagement. If he was willing to stay, she was willing to have him there, just to let her have some security and assurance that sleep would come unhindered and untainted by dreams of the ghost of a teenage girl.

She titled her head up to place a small kiss to the hollow of his throat and received a grunt and a tightening of his grasp around her, in response. She smiled against his skin and allowed her eyes to close.

My only self.

When she awoke in the morning, her bed was devoid of any life save her own, and his clothes were gone from the messy floor. She noticed the beer cans were also gone, probably in the incinerator already, or out on the kitchen counter for Jet to find. She sat up with a small sigh, her sheets falling away to expose her naked form, and moved a hand through her tangled hair attempting to move it out of her eyes. That's when her eyes fell upon the end of her bed.

"You're still me, but you're a newer version … Am I alone, or is there a wonderful person next to me. Well knowing me, I'm sure you're causing all kinds of trouble for lots of different people. I'm sorry, I don't mean to. But it's alright, that's part of life too, isn't it? You're not perfect, but you've got a lot to give, so remember, I'll always be cheering you on."

There, nestled in between the blue sheets was the black plastic box she'd been so desperately searching for the night before.

I can't remember. I can't remember what self I am anymore.

And on top, a simple note. She snatched the white paper up eagerly, as if afraid it might disappear before she had a chance to read the words hastily scratched in black ink in the messy familiar scrawl of her partner.

Alone…or with…

"You don't need this, because the past isn't necessary, but I know you want it," she read aloud. And then beneath that, in much smaller print, "She's cheering for you to find what you lost -- Spike."

A wonderful person beside me?

She looked at the paper blankly for a few more seconds, before grabbing for the tape and turning it over in her hands a few times, feeling the hard smooth surface beneath her delicate manicured hands.

Alone…

She glanced up to the metal wall beside her bed and noticed a picture suspended between the wall and one of the various pipes. One of the Bebop crew that Ed had insisted upon after a bounty capture near Ganymede. The lot of them were gathered around the captured man who incidentally had black marker all over his face from their young resident artist who still held the evidence in her hand. Even Ein was in the captured memory, barking up at the man, as Jet grinned at the prospect of money. In the background were the last two bounty hunters both sucking on cigarettes and looking bored with the whole ordeal.

The picture was up there on her wall, strikingly obvious against the otherwise bare walls. The picture of the Bebop crew. The picture of her comrades. The picture of her…

I don't know what or who I am anymore. But I'll keep looking to find out. I need to find my…

family.

home.

Never Part II: Wolf Cub is based upon Episode 19 of Cowboy Bebop: Speak Like a Child.

Two parts remain for the cowgirl.