a/n: part the third, for your reading pleasure.

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

She arrived back to the ship about an hour later. She'd finally had enough of space, or lack thereof. For as wide an expanse as the universe was, she'd always be restricted to structures that would pipe in air. She'd never feel the void of space on her skin, at least not long enough to live to tell the tale. And she'd never smell the emptiness or feel the burn on her fingers from stars when she got too close. No, the closest she'd ever come to actual, physical contact with that magnificent void would be the empty touches that only Spike could provide her with. The more she thought about, the less she actually liked space after all.

She was quick to discover that Jet must have fixed the air. The hangar was nearly freezing, so she couldn't imagine what the interior of the ship would feel like. She suddenly missed her red sweater. Once back in her room, she search for it and keep it on hand. Just because she didn't dress in neon plastic anymore didn't mean a little, red sweater was any more or less inappropriate.

Making her way quickly, Faye was reluctant to tarry for too long. With tear streaks still marring her face no doubt, she'd rather keep all that to herself. Jet's shoulder was probably still damp from where she last cried on it and Ed was still to…Ed to ever understand. And running into Spike just wasn't an option. To let him have that satisfaction…well, Faye just wasn't in the mood to please right now.

You solitude is welcome, welcome,
Your attitude is welcome…

He'd heard the hangar open about halfway through his fourth cigarette and figured it could only be Faye. After such a trying evening, he was almost positive that Jet would be asleep. He was now sitting on the floor, his back propped up by the bed. One arm was resting on a folded knee while the other leg was stretched out in front of him. Rolling his head back and snuffing smoke out through his nose, Spike closed his eyes for just a moment.

It hit him then, that he was tired. Exhausted, actually. With all of the day's events, yesterday's, the days before, the weeks and months included, Spike realized that he was absolutely worn out. When he'd woken up in the hospital, stitched up in a vision reminiscent of Frankenstein's monster, he had been tired. For being in a "light" coma for two weeks, he had a hard time understanding how his body wasn't rested enough.

Then he'd checked out of the hospital very much against doctor's orders and found himself practically on the other side of Mars. He didn't believe that this was the only operating room available, but probably the only one that wouldn't ask questions as to why he was there.

Getting back to the Bebop hadn't been all that hard, especially since not everyone believed him dead. And with phrases like, "Black Dog wants to know," being thrown around the circuits; it was almost like a beacon in the night. He'd been asked question, mostly by Jet, but he hadn't been pressed for information. He was tended to while he continued to heal, mostly by Jet and the suddenly re-emerged Edward. And he'd been ignored a great deal, mostly by Faye, until he'd finally cracked some code and gotten more of her attention than anyone else's. As much as he should have hated it, he suddenly didn't know why exactly he'd wanted it all to stop.

Pushing himself up from the floor, he dashed out the cig, pushed a tense hand through his hair, and sighed long and hard.

You are welcome…

"Well, you didn't make me a liar, so I guess I should be thankful."

Faye had been home free. She'd made it through the ship, her hand was on the door and all she had to do was push and she'd be in her refuge once again. It was at the sound of his voice that she remembered that fate always did get a kick out of her.

"You know me, Spike," she started without turning around, "I am a woman of my word."

Opening the door and almost praying she'd successfully make it inside, she took a step or two forward and could tell by the shift in the air around her that he'd taken those steps, too.

"What do you want?" She asked with an exasperated sigh. Couldn't whatever he wanted wait? Until forever maybe?

"Well, I guess I could ask you the same question," he countered.

You are welcome.

Twisting so slightly so that her face was turned to his, a delicate eyebrow arched in confusion. Faye could have figured that he'd say a lot of things to her, but question her? What was he playing at now?

"What are you asking me that for?"

"Because I don't think I ever have before," he told her honestly.

She turned more fully towards him this time, hoping her feeling of bewilderment wasn't showing through her features. She noticed he had taken another step or two forward. Instinctively, she took the same approximation of steps back.

"Well?"

"Well what, Spike?" She shouted in an aggravated whisper. She was barely reigning in all of the emotions she felt and she seriously just wanted to be done with him at the moment.

He advanced on her again, pushing her into her room without even touching her. Once inside, he closed the door behind him but didn't make a move after that. Light reflecting off of the surface of Venus was the only illumination in the room. A slice of it fell onto Spike's face, reflecting almost painfully off of his fake eye. Faye squinted and turned her head slightly, remembering once again that Spike was made of falsehoods and lies.

You are welcome…

"We gotta stop this, Faye," he told her. If she wanted to skirt around the issue, then he'd let her. But he wasn't going to anymore.

Sighing and sitting on her bed, she ran a hand through her hair, briefly wondering why she'd ditched the headband. She flicked on the light that was sitting on the little table next to her bed and tried her best not to look at him. Watching her closely and not seeing any signs of her joining the conversation anytime soon, he continued for her.

"We gotta stop this, so we need to talk. We need to –"

"You're right, Spike," she chimed in suddenly, "We do have to stop this."

You are welcome.

He wasn't sure why he was so caught off guard by that, but Spike was staring at Faye even more intensely, now. Now, he was studying her, trying to figure out what was going on in that head of hers. He always knew that women were hard to understand but to him, Faye might as well have spoken ancient Latin.

"Don't look at me like I've grown another head," she told him as she noticed the look on his face. "We can't keep doing this. I don't want to keep doing this."

"Well then, I guess we understand each other," Spike said with a mix of relief and an odd sensation of loss. But he shrugged that off as he turned to go.

"You didn't let me finish," Faye spoke up, but not in a voice that was threatening or loud.

All this time, we heard alarms…

Piqued by her tone, Spike turned back around and decided to let her have her say. He watched as she picked up a cigarette and lit it. He noticed how softly she brought it up to her mouth and saw the soft pull of her lips as she inhaled. He watched her too closely but couldn't bring himself to stop.

"I can't do this anymore Spike, not with you. You…you mean something to mean. Too much to me. And I care what you think of me," she turned to look him in the eye then. "I think you hate me, Spike. I think you hate me for so many reasons.

"You hate me because I'm alive. You hate me because I'm not Julia. That I'm alive and she's dead. You hate me because I dare to say her name and you hate me because of the way you use me as a substitute for her. I'm a woman with an attitude so that automatically puts me on your hate list, too.

"And I think you are disgusted by me…with me," she held up a hand then as she saw him about to speak. "I think you find me lowly and unworthy because I so easily slipped into bed with you and so soon and only after everything happened. You'll say I took advantage of you. You'll say that it was all apart of some grand scheme of mine. And how could I prove you wrong? Why would I prove you wrong?"

"You've had you dreams interrupted so many times and I don't want to burst another bubble. But I don't want to be a lost cause to you, either."

Come to find, we fell apart…

"I just…I dunno, I think I just thought that maybe if I let you have me, then you wouldn't hate me. That's why I never stopped it, Spike; that's why I never turned you away. I know it's stupid, it sounds so stupid…

"You're…one of the…only people I have in this world and I guess I'm protective of you and how you see me. I just want to…make you happy…" she bit out in a whisper.

"You shouldn't have wasted you time, trying to please me, Faye," Spike almost whispered back in a voice that was oddly tender.

"Yeah, but I did…for you…and for me," she began again. "I just wanted you to care about me, Spike. I…I just wanted for you to look at me in a way that suggested you approved of me somehow. You're one of the only people I have in this world. You may think you know what it means to be alone, but you don't. Until you wake up from a fairytale into a nightmare, 54 years later to boot, then you don't really know what alone is.

"I don't want to be alone. I've never wanted to be alone. And I've always just wanted someone to care. But I see now that that person was never you; can never be you. Because you hate me and you are disgusted with me and there isn't a damn thing I can do to change you mind…"

This whole thing has crashed down, crashed down…

Faye didn't know when she had started crying again, but there was really no point in stopping the tears. She was tired of hiding and playing games with Spike. She just wanted to be herself, who she was: a girl who was scared, lonely, and lost. She didn't want to be strong for him anymore. It got her nowhere, anyway.

"I…I'm sorry, Faye," Spike offered, not sure what to say or if saying anything would help at all.

"It's okay, Spike. Really, it's okay. Because I realized something a little while ago. I know I can't please everybody. And I know I can't please you. But I make Jet happy and I make Ed happy, and every now and again, I even make Ein happy. And that, in turn, makes me happy, too. I don't need you to make me feel how I want to feel. And I don't need you to bring me down."

"I never meant to bring you down, Faye."

"Yeah, I think you did. Because I'm still alive and she's not. You wanted me to hurt. Because you knew I liked you, as silly as it was for me to do, and you wanted me to hurt. You wanted to show me that you could kiss me and touch me and make me feel like that, and yet have it mean nothing at all. To show me that I was stupid for trying for something I knew I couldn't have. Mostly, you wanted to show me that I'd never be good enough…not for you."

Spike was staring at her once more. His mouth slight agape, he didn't know what to say or how to even react. He wanted to yell at her and tell her that she didn't know what she was talking about. He wanted to shake her and tell her that her brain was still too freeze-dried to comprehend normal thought. But he couldn't. It was all true, every word of it.

He had been hurting after all he'd gone through and like an evil bastard, he wanted to make someone hurt, too. Faye had been the unfortunate victim. She was right…he had wanted to hurt her. Hurt her as much as he had been. He had wanted to break her and all of her trusting and…he had wanted to break her heart, just as his had been shattered into a thousand shards. He would have cut her if he could, just to see her bleed, but that would have never hurt enough.

He was a sick bastard. He knew that too well, now. Jet was right. He was always right. She didn't deserve this. She would never do anything to deserve this.

All this time, we heard alarms.

the home s t r e t c h . . .