Chapter Six: Sleep Tonight


You always watch the sun go down
The same old shadows crawl over town
Those thoughts of you it shivers me
The moon grows cold in memory

--Rolling Stones


Once inside her room, Faye leaned against the door, her palms pressed flat against the cool metal. Finally, she allowed her self to take a deep breath in, then another. Her chest heaved wildly and she closed her eyes.

"Fuck," she whispered, "Oh…fuck…"

Luke had warned her not to get too involved. She hadn't even been on the ship a day before picking a fight with him.

The hairs on the back of her neck were still raised. When she closed her eyes she could still feel his large, strong hands closed around her arms, his slender fingers grasping at her soft skin. She could feel his heartbeat. The rise and fall of his broad chest. And she could still feel his hot breath fluttering over her lips. The thought of his long, hard body pressed tightly against hers was enough to make her cheeks burn.

"Oh, fuck," she whispered again, more harshly. She raised a hand to her forehead and began massaging her temple. She had gotten over this years ago…hadn't she? His infatuation with Julia, his abandoning her and Jet…his death.

Faye straightened, smoothing her hands over her skirt. Yes, she had gotten over it. She'd gotten over it when she saw the body. She'd gotten over it when she met Luke. When he made her an offer she couldn't refuse.

She walked toward her dresser and examined the heavy glock that rested on top. She ran her fingers absently over the metal barrel. Luke offered her a new life. A chance to really put her past behind her. She closed her fingers tightly around the handle of the gun and lifted it off the dresser, feeling its weight in her hand.

Yet still there was something about him that intrigued her. She had nearly forgotten the rush she felt when she really got under his skin. How she liked the way his whole body stiffened when he was angry at her, and the way that muscle in his jaw jumped when he made eye contact with her.

Faye shook her head, banishing the thought from her mind. No, she could do this. She wouldn't let herself get worked up again. It was just a job. And Spike was, after all, just a man. Just another man who happened to abandon her. Who happened to betray her trust – much like all the other men she knew. Just another Whitney.


Spike groaned deeply, his eyes fluttering open slowly as they adjusted to the bright florescent lighting of the ship. A dull pain traveled down his neck and along his spine, and he decided that spending the night on the couch was not the best idea he'd had in a while.

Jet was humming a jaunty tune in the kitchen as he cooked … something – Spike couldn't tell what. Groaning again, he slowly sat up on the couch.

He yawned wide, running a hand through his mussed hair, "Jet," he called gruffly, "what're you making?"

"Nothing for you."

Jesus Christ. He knew that voice – and it most certainly wasn't Jet's. He closed his eyes tightly, hoping that he was still dreaming. When he opened them he saw Faye standing between the kitchen and the living room, skillet in hand.

"She cooks," he said dryly.

Faye gave him a slight smirk, then disappeared behind the wall of the kitchen. "Just one of my many talents."

Spike grunted in response, kicking his feet up on the coffee table in front of him. Judging from her carefree tone, Faye was willing to simply ignore their disagreement from the previous night. She began to hum again, the same slow song he remembered her singing when she –

"Quit it," he snapped.

"Well, well … someone got up on the wrong side of the couch today."

The sound of clattering dishes emanated from the kitchen. The silverware drawer rattled as it was opened, then closed. He imagined Faye pushing it closed with a nudge of her hips – a plate in one hand, a glass in the other.

Faye emerged from the kitchen again, bowl in hand, and joined him on the couch. Spike sighed, turning away. She might have been more than willing to simply disregard their argument from the night before, but he had no intention of allowing her to forget so easily. Not after her flippant remarks and self-righteous smiles. He could tell by the way she looked at him last night that she still derived endless pleasure from taunting him. Had there been a knife in his gut, he could imagine the delighted gleam that would flash in her eyes as she contemplated twisting it.

He inhaled deeply and, suddenly, what he could only describe as the smell of wet dog assaulted his nostrils.

"The hell is that?" he nearly shouted, his gaze fixed once again on Faye as she leaned over the green bowl in her lap, studying its contents intensely before taking a small bite.

"Poached eggs over sautéed spinach," she replied easily, taking another bite.

"No wonder you've disappeared," he said, pinching her upper thigh.

"Ow!" she shrieked, slapping his hand away, "Spike, you bastard!"

"Calm down. I barely touched you."

Faye glowered at him as she rubbed her reddening skin. She was wearing a pair of men's flannel boxers – Luke's, no dobut – and an oversized boat neck sweater. The boxers had hiked up a bit on her thigh when she jumped. Faye didn't seem to notice and continued to massage her skin.

"So…" Spike said, dragging his gaze away from her exposed thigh, "Venus."

"Yeah," she replied, taking another bite of her breakfast, "Venus."

"We're staying at the Hôtel Pergolèse, you know."

Faye perked when he mentioned the name, "Are you kidding me?"

"Nope."

Faye sat her bowl down on the coffee table and turned intently toward Spike. "The Hôtel Pergolèse? The most exclusive hotel and resort on Venus?"

"No, Faye, the crack house down the street which, conveniently, is also called the Hôtel Pergolèse. Jesus."

Faye ignored his sarcasm and continued, "Why on earth would Jet send us there? And how did he ever find the money?"

"Well," he drawled, reaching in front of him for a manila folder on the coffee table, "Mr. Logan Black and Miss Giselle Fine will need the appropriate accommodations for their stay on Venus – " he tossed Faye a counterfeit passport and a new woolong card, "and, of course, when the manager of the hotel learned that the CEO and president of M&A Financial would be staying in his hotel, he was more than willing to provide us with a comfortable stay."

Faye raised a brow, "M&A Financial? I've never even heard of that company."

He smirked, "It's a sham, Faye."

She sighed, laying the passport at her side, "Don't you think these measures are a bit extreme for a nice hotel room?"

"The room's just an added bonus. We're going under cover. Bosch is interested in investing in our company."

"I see. So you're going to bleed the poor man for all he's worth before hauling him off to the ISSP?"

"Bingo. He's got a lot of dirty money and no way to clean it. M&A will provide a false front."

"Dirty money, huh? What's the guy do? Is he some sort of drug lord?"

"Some sort. He's the leader of the largest bloody eye cartel in the solar system."

Faye raised a brow, "A syndicate leader, then?"

Spike closed the manila folder in his lap and ran his fingertips along its edge, "That's the thing – the other members of the cartel don't seem to be associated with one another in any clear way. He deals with businessmen, various syndicate leaders, crooked cops – I mean, the cartel's expanse is massive."

Faye nodded slowly, shifting in her seat. She crossed her legs underneath her body, "All right, Spike. So ... we're supposed to – what? Take out the solar system's most powerful and elusive drug lord just like that?" she snapped her fingers for emphasis.

Spike shrugged, "Basically – yeah. I mean, if we can both get the guy alone – "

"That's crazy!" she nearly shouted, "No, Spike, its worse than crazy; it's suicidal. You really think you can pull a fast one on this guy? There must be some reason why the ISSP hasn't hauled him away yet."

"He's a tough guy to track. And while he's been under suspicion for quite some time, the cops have had a tough time pinning the charges to him. He knows how to cover his tracks."

Faye paused for a moment, brushing a loose strand of violet hair behind her ear. "So let me get this straight…" she began cautiously, "Jack Bosch has made a lot of money controlling the production and distribution of bloody eye. Naturally, he needs to disguise the origins of the money so that it can't be tracked back to the drug cartel."

"Right."

"So then we're going to launder the money for him and then turn him over to the ISSP?"

"…Right."

"And we'll be turning the money in too, right?"

Spike shifted uncomfortably in his seat, running a hand through his hair, "Well, not exactly. I mean, by that time the money will be clean. He's already ran it through numerous interstellar accounts, shell companies, you name it. This is just the last step. After he uh ... invests … in M&A, there won't be a paper trail to speak of."

"Uh huh…" Faye said, licking her lips, "So after turning him in to the ISSP we just – "

"Take the money and run. All of it. We'd be set for – centuries."

Faye smirked, "Well, well, Spiegel. I must say, I'm impressed. I never imagined you and Jet would get wrapped up in white collar crime."

He shrugged, "What can I say? Bosch's a tough guy to bag. At least this way we'll be able to keep in close contact with him. Maybe gain his trust."

She nodded slowly, then stood, lifting her bowl off the table, "Sounds like we have our work cut out for us, Mr. Black," she said as she walked toward the kitchen.

He heard dishes clatter as she set the empty bowl in the sink. When she appeared in the doorway again, one hand braced on the door frame and the other on her hip, he couldn't help but smile. The large sweater drooped off her left shoulder. The boxers rode low on her hips and he could just barely see the sliver of pale skin between her sweater and her shorts. He licked his lips, imagining the face she'd make if he dragged his rough fingertips over the bare skin. He remembered the way she looked last night when he grabbed her – lips softly parted, a hint of fear flickering in her pretty eyes – yet still her features seemed to remain so calm and graceful. "Yeah," he said slowly, returning from his reverie, "See you in the hangar, Miss Fine."


A/N: So…this chapter is a little short. Sorry about that. I decided I'd post a little something since I'm not sure how frequently I'll be able to update the story. I'm pretty busy with school and life at the moment, so I rarely have much time to myself. I will try to update about every three weeks…hopefully no longer than a month will go by between updates. Believe me, I want to see it finished as much as you do! I can't wait to write the more interesting (read: sexy) chapters…