a/n: part two, for your consideration

and i'm sorry if these chapters stop at odd places. there was no real, convenient breaks, so i just kinda made them up. i hope it flows well enough.

Your solitude is welcome, welcome.
Your attitude is welcome, welcome.

She flew fast and hard. It didn't really matter where she was going, just as long as she got away from the ship and much more importantly, from him. That was it. That was the last straw. She'd never touch him again even if her life depended on it. Fuck him, fuck her, and fuck Julia! She was better than that; she was better than her! And just because some asshole lunkhead with a martyr complex couldn't see that didn't make it any less true. He didn't get to decide the measure of her worth! But if that was true…then why did this hurt so much.

Putting her ship in cruise mode, she slumped back in her seat. She hadn't realized how tightly she'd been gripping the wheel until she practically had to pry her fingers from it. She hadn't realized she'd been crying until she felt the cool splatter on her bare thigh. Wiping away the moisture she put her nailed fingers to her flesh and wondered how hard she'd have to pull to break the skin. And then she wondered if anyone would even care.

Your solitude is welcome, welcome,
Your attitude is welcome.

He didn't want to go after her. He had meant what he said. If she was stupid enough to think that he actually wanted to be with her, then she needed this reality check. Badly. His girl was dead, and so was he. He just had the unfortunate luxury of retaining his body and all of its facilities. The only thing that woman was to him was a warm, willing body. That's all he would ever want from her, and perhaps that was way too much to ask for. It was the damned proximity and easy access that kept him coming back.

One thing she had been right about, though, was that he could never mistake his angel's voice for that shrew's. Julia would call his name so soft and sweet. Faye screeched like a banshee. It was like night and day with the two of them. No, there was no way to confuse them. Julia would also never allow every single encounter to be up against a wall of spread over a table, or anything like that. She'd demand a bed and better treatment. Faye simply rolled with the punches. They were absolutely different women, no doubt.

Julia also preferred softer touches and more intimate kisses while Faye was more rough and tumble. She'd leave marks and would want some of her own to show off. She also had deeper, more intense kisses. And she tended to just seem to…appreciate the situation better. Definitely nothing like Julia. He would never mistake one for the other. And by that flow of logic…then why had he told her that he could?

All you see is red lights behind me…

Cruising aimlessly in space, Faye was still reclined in her seat with eyes closed. She had calmed herself down with a series of deep breaths and mental blocks. She'd gotten good at putting those up. She had to, considering what she'd woken up to those some four years ago. She wasn't positive how long she'd stay away from the ship, but she knew she'd go back eventually. Like it or not, the Bebop was her home now. For now.

Jet had made it perfectly clear that she could stay; would stay until he was satisfied that she could live on her own successfully. It'd be hard to pinpoint when it all happened, but somewhere along the way, she and Jet had formed a true partnership. He had taken a bit of a shine to the lost little girl and she had taken a shine to his…togetherness. He welcomed her, all of her, and it was that comfort that made her stay. It must have happened while he was away, dead somewhere. They had both taken it hard, with both Ed and him gone. They'd both lost too many people too soon, and to try and weather one more could have destroyed them both. So yes, she'd go back. She'd always go back.

Faye wondered briefly if she could get Jet to kick Spike off the ship. At this point in the game, Faye was more loyal to Jet and the Bebop, and with this most recent fight between the two, she could perhaps play the devastated female card. But that wasn't fair, she figured, getting him out simply because of a bad decision she had made. It wasn't Spike's fault entirely. It takes two to tango, so…

But she had known it was wrong from the very beginning. Sleeping with a man in mourning? She had to be crazy. But she had wanted him for reasons she couldn't describe and he had wanted a substitute. Time and space finally met up and now she found herself floating in the void.

Where were the stop signs? The 'dead end' and 'no exit' signs? Was a girl supposed to always just inherently know the warnings? It was high time that someone throw her a bone. It was high time someone simply…cared.

Maybe this isn't what you wanted baby.

She wasn't sure why it even mattered so much or why she very nearly craved human touch. She wasn't the starry-eyed girl that she was before the fall; before her world was shattered and pieced back together with scotch tape and science. She was older, wiser, and harder. So much harder than she ever thought she could be. But somewhere inside, she was still soft. A part of her that refused to accept this new life and the loneliness that went with it. Faye didn't think she could ever accept the loneliness.

So she figured that's why she let things with Spike happen. She would have loved to say that they were both drunk and didn't know what they were doing, but that wouldn't work for every single time. Perhaps it could have been random blackouts that he had taken advantage of, but that story had too many plot holes. The God honest truth was nothing glamorous. He had walked in on her getting out of the shower. She had yelled at him, he had smirked at her, and in between fake punches and yelling, his lips hand landed on hers and that was that. The next time was even less alluring. He asked if she wanted a quick screw and she had said yes. They were never ones to mince words.

It was never what she wanted though. She wasn't a simple girl and she hated such a simple interaction, though things were rarely simple where she and Spike were concerned. But still, it wasn't what she wanted, or more honestly, what she needed. Faye would keep it to herself for as long as possible, but all she wanted was to be loved, as difficult as the truth was. It was her fault entirely to think for even a millisecond that Spike Spiegel of all people would entertain such an idea. And besides, she'd never want him to love her because she didn't love him. There was absolutely nothing about him to love.

And I don't blame you falling backwards…

"If you're done with your little hissy fit, I'd appreciate you getting your ass back to the ship already," an irritate voice crackled throughout her MONO.

Lazily pulling her eyes to the control panel, she could see that face staring back her, uninterested. She gave an inaudible sigh and reached to turn the monitor off. She didn't want to hear his voice and damn sure didn't want to see his face. She would have been content if he had just faded into non-existence in that very moment.

He must have noticed the movement from her end and made a half-hearted effort to get through to her.

"Just get back already and anything you want to talk about…we can."

Faye ventured to say that he was reluctant to add that part in. Or to say anything at all.

"Jet sent you, didn't he?" It really wasn't a question.

"You didn't think I'd come for you out of the kindness of my heart, did you?"

"No, Spike, I'd never be stupid enough to think that," Faye responded in a tone that was less bitter than she thought she was capable of at the moment. "You can go back and tell Jet I'll be…home soon."

"I'm under the impression that I can't go home without you," he replied near-sarcastically.

"I'm sure you could try."

And with that, Faye clicked the monitor off. She prided herself on knowing that Spike wouldn't come after her for himself. She wasn't that deluded. The only reason Spike would willing seek her out was if she had taken something from him, and seeing as though he was broke, he had nothing that she wanted. He'd never have a reason to come after her.

It struck her then, an odd sensation that she really wasn't used to. Complacency. She had realized that somewhere between the first fuck and the last, she'd come to expect Spike's vulgar lack of caring and that without it, the situation would have been absolutely foreign to her. She really wasn't okay with that. She deserved something better than that, she was sure.

Leaning forward and taking hold of the wheel again, Faye suddenly decided it was time to go back to the ship. She and Spike needed to "talk". It was high time she tell him to shove off and stay away from her. She'd tell him to find his ghost in another body and she'd tell him that she didn't want him. That she never really wanted him. And more importantly, she'd tell him that she didn't need him.

She stopped again and slumped back in her seat. True, she didn't want him. But …she needed him. In some sickening way, she needed him. Because there was something about this that she couldn't let go. Her mind flashed back to the first time that something stirred inside her where Spike was concerned. It was the cathedral. She knew he had only come for Vicious, but afterwards, a long time afterwards, when his bruises were mostly healed, he had apologized. One, for calling her tone deaf, when what he really meant was she had lousy rhythm. Two, for not paying enough attention and letting her get into the situation in the first place.

Maybe she needed him to protect her still. But Vicious was dead. Maybe she needed assurance that someone would cover her ass if needed. But that's what Jet was for. Maybe she just needed to know that he didn't really hate her. Maybe he was the solution to her daddy issues and she desperately needed his approval to simply exist. She just didn't know, and it frustrated her to know end! Chucking a discarded flight map at the cockpit glass, she growled an aggravated sigh and felt the tears fall.

No one's ever quite confused you this way.

And all this time we wasted away,

He hopped down from the Swordfish and shuffled back inside the Bebop. He wasn't going to drag the woman back here, and she had assured him that she'd return, so that was more than good enough for him. Hopefully that would please Jet. Deciding not to test the waters though, he silently made his way back to his room.

Either he was gone longer than he thought or Jet was faster than he thought, because his tiny cube of a room was drastically cooler than it had been for the last few days. Going to the bed with its rumpled sheets, Spike lay down and enjoyed the chill of the linen on his face. The lingering heat from the ship, coupled with his frustrations with Faye made the cool all the more welcome. That damned woman always got him more worked up than he'd let on. She had a way of taking him from zero to sixty in three point five, and he resented her for it more with each time it happened.

It always amazed him, really, just how much she could annoy him. No other woman had ever been able to rip his skin open and crawl inside the way she could. It was exasperating to deal with it over and over again, but even more so was trying to understand why it happened. Or why he made it a point to upset her occasionally, just to fight with her. Or why, when he was supposed to be thinking of Julia…his thoughts often drifted back to her.

We don't feel good unless we're gray, gray, gray.

It had only been four months. Well, five if you counted the one where he was in the hospital, but who was really keeping count besides everyone else, apparently? But only four months he'd been back on the Bebop and for three of them, he'd been sleeping with Faye. No, no need for pretty euphemisms, he'd been fucking Faye. And she'd been fucking him right back. And as much as he hated it, being with her, there was something in her embrace that kept him…together, for lack of a better term.

She'd been near hysterical when he'd come back. She hadn't instantly broken down at the mere sight of him, but later on that night when the ship was sleeping, he had heard her as he strolled past her room. Her sobs were near fever-pitched and he would have never really known what she was so distressed over if Jet hadn't have told him.

It wasn't Spike's intentions to upset Jet or Faye when he left, but he wasn't living his life for them. And evidently, that didn't go over too well with either of them, his blatant disregard for their feelings and all. They had both taken it hard, Jet explained, but Faye especially. They'd both had their fair share of losing people around them, but it had been too many too soon for Faye, and to think that Spike was gone, one of the very few people that she had some kind of trust in, was almost too much for her. His miraculous return to life was what had pushed her over the edge for a time.

He didn't remember when Faye had finally been able to look at him, let alone talk to him. His memory was still a bit fuzzy, the pictures a little too gray. But the most vivid recollection was the shower incident. The gateway drug to their constant encounters, if you will. And yes, she was like a drug. And the more he wanted to stop, the more of her he took.

And all the times I chased you away…

He had to wonder why she still put up with it, why she kept coming back for more and allowing him to do the same. The only passion between them was their anger towards one another. And yet there was an explicit fervor to their actions, and infatuation almost. Touching skin that was set ablaze by such effortless actions was a feeling that he wasn't so willing to give up, so he was distressed to come to find. It was only a fantasy, that's all it could ever be.

He suddenly found himself then, wishing that she had followed him back. As much as it pained him to say they'd "talk" and as much as he hated "talking" in general, this was something that they needed to do. He needed to know why she allowed this and he needed to know how to stop this. More importantly, he had to erase any illusions that things between them where anything more than what they were…whatever things were.

Or maybe he could just leave again. It was possible to disappear if he hurried, and if all else failed, he could hide in his room until they docked, slip out the front door and come back for his things another time. It would solve so many of the recent problems in his life. The senseless sex would inevitably come to an end and without having to engage in the promised conversations, feelings would be spared; potential truths as well, for that matter.

But could he do that again? Just up and vanish out of their lives? It wouldn't be so hard on the kid, perhaps, since she had been the first of them all to run out. But to do it to Jet and Faye again? He was sure that they'd kill him on site if they were to ever cross paths again. And he wasn't sure he would be able to blame them for it, either. Despite as callous as he could be, he just couldn't find it in himself to be so cruel so soon again.

I simply don't feel good.

Although what if leaving was the best way to cause the least amount of pain? Spike had this nagging feeling that his impending talk with Faye would be a disaster at the very best. He'd say things he didn't mean, she try to claw his eyes out, and all in all, nothing would really be resolved.

"Jesus, what in the hell was I thinking?" He asked himself as he rolled over.

Grabbing a cigarette and lighting up, Spike inhaled deeply. He briefly wondered if that would be the death of him: going out on a puff of smoke. It'd be the ultimate irony in his opinion. The simple acting of breathing in and out, though, was one of the few things that made sense to him anymore. And with a rapidly declining list of things to believe in, Spike was clinging fiercely to every belief.

"So, where's the girl?"

Spike didn't acknowledge the figure in the doorway. If he kept his eyes closed, maybe he wouldn't be seen.

"I guess that means you didn't get her?"

"Thanks for fixing the air," Spike finally said.

"Your welcome, but you're avoiding the subject."

"She didn't want to come back yet, but she told me to tell you that she'd be home soon."

Jet stared at the man on the bed and knew he was trying hard to be invisible. Watching his subtle intake of breath and the slight twitches of his fingers as he flicked away ash, Jet almost pitied him. Spike had made a real mess of his life with the constant bad choices he'd made. And every time it seemed as if there could be a possible turn-around, a light at the end of the tunnel, Jet could only sit by and watch near helplessly as another wrong turn was made. He soon shook his head at the notion, knowing he was going soft in his old age. There was never a reason to pity a man who was always so willing fail.

"The kid still mopin'?" Spike asked in reference to Ed.

"She's upside down on the couch, clacking around on her computer while using Ein as a pillow. I don't know if you could say she ain't mopin' but at least she's not complaining."

Spike nodded deftly and tried miserably to blow rings in the smoke.

"Do you know why I asked you to go after her?" Jet queried, refusing to be thrown off of his thesis so easily.

"Cause I'm a bad boy and need to be punished for my mistakes?"

"Well, you made that sound gross," Jet recoiled from the room a bit. "But no, I'll leave that to someone else. I made you go after her because you can't treat her like that –"

"I wasn't treating her like anything," Spike countered as he sat up, an angry look in his divergent eyes.

"Exactly, Spike. You treat her like nothing, or worse than that, and she doesn't deserve it. She's never done anything to you. Well, nothing to warrant what you do to her. You two never should have started this in the first place, but you did. And since you did, you've both got to be responsible. That doesn't just mean not knocking her up that means you can't be an all around ass to her, either."

"She's not exactly sunshine and roses…" Spike drawled.

"Yeah, but she's not trying to pretend she's seeing someone else every time she's with you. When the two of you do…whatever it is you do…she's doing it with you, Spike, and nobody else."

And with that, he left. Jet always had a way of doing that: explaining truths in easy to understand terms then leaving you to ruminate on what he had said. He was really good at it, too. Sitting up now with his legs bowed out and his back slumped, Spike took another draw for his waning cigarette.

"Aw, fuck!"

onward --