Chapter Eight: Let's Spend the Night Together


Don't you worry 'bout what's on your mind
I'm in no hurry I can take my time
I'm going red and my tongue's getting tied
I'm off my head and my mouth's getting dry.
I'm high, But I try
Let's spend the night together
Now I need you more than ever
Let's spend the night together now

--The Rolling Stones


Faye rapped her well-manicured nails against the marble counter of the front desk at the Hôtel Pergolèse. She had to admit, the hotel was rather impressive. A large chandelier hung overhead, and the slight breeze that whipped through the lobby whenever the front doors were opened caused the crystals to sway and clink together, filling the room with surreal, twinkling music. The soft yellow lights and gold leafing adorning the chandelier radiated like warm evening sunlight, and Faye idly watched as a myriad of tiny rainbows flitted over the pale skin on her hand.

High-gloss granite tiles lined the floor of the hotel. Their pale color was exaggerated by the rich blue and gold hues of the many identical Persian carpets located in the lobby.

Amid the twinkling of the chandelier crystals and the staccato rhythm of heels against granite Faye could make out the sound of falling water. She craned her neck, looking toward the center of the hotel lobby – which seemed, not surprisingly, several hundred feet from where she stood. An elegant, lighted fountain stood right in the center of the immense room, lined by tall Grecian looking columns and low slung couches. Azure water cascaded slowly over the gently sloping tiers of the fountain, and a multitude of water lilies floated on the water's surface.

Faye smirked, focusing her gaze on the large glass doors of the hotel once again. This place would certainly put the Red Dragon's headquarters to shame. Despite Luke's extravagant lifestyle, she couldn't remember the last time she was in a place quite this impressive.

She realized, suddenly, that she gave Spike far less credit than he deserved. Whatever he had done to orchestrate this must have been impressive.

As if on cue, Spike lumbered through the doors of the hotel, oversized luggage in tow. One of her cosmetics bags – the smaller one – dangled from his tightly clenched teeth. She laughed at that, not even attempting to hide her amusement. He noticed, of course. At least she assumed he did. The look he gave her at that moment was one he often reserved for the times she made him completely and utterly pissed. Needless to say, it was a look she knew well.

Five bellhops immediately rushed to his side, gathering the luggage in their arms. Spike kept his eyes fixed on Faye as he strode toward the front desk.

"Name?" the clerk asked.

"Black," Spike said quickly. Judging by his brusque tone, he wasn't going to be forgiving her for abandoning her luggage anytime soon.

"Logan and Giselle?"

Giselle Black? That didn't sound right. Fine. Her last name was Fine.

"Actually," Faye interrupted, "its Logan Black and Giselle Fine."

The clerk turned his attention to Spike and gave him a look Faye didn't quite understand. Spike just laughed easily, letting his arm snake around Faye's waist.

So much for being angry. Maybe he was just losing his mind? She considered the possibility and decided it wouldn't surprise her all that much.

Spike's smooth voice interrupted her reverie. "Newlyweds," he explained, pulling her closer. "She's having trouble adjusting. You wouldn't believe how hard it was for me to convince her to change her last name. Right, hun?"

Faye bit her lip and smiled through her irritation. "Right." Note to self, kill Spike Spiegel.

"Oh, yes," the clerk gave a tight-lipped smile, "I understand, sir." He directed his eyes to the computer screen behind the desk. "Room 415." He dropped two key cards on the slick counter, then pushed them in Spike's direction.

"Thanks," Spike said. He tightened his grip on Faye's waist as they walked away, pulling her into his side. She caught the smell of his cologne as they turned. It was faint and mellow and tinged with the slightest hint of cigarette smoke. She had never actually been close enough to him to notice the scent before, but she thought it felt familiar – it was so inexplicably Spike Spiegel.

A strand of her violet hair shifted, falling in front of her face. It was soft and smooth, and for a brief instant she caught the slightest hint of her perfume mingling with the warm scent of Spike's cologne. For a moment, she felt calm – as if, somehow, this feeling was something she had been missing all her life … something she hadn't known she'd been searching for and couldn't quite put her finger on. She felt his strong fingers smooth over the wrinkles of her thin shirt as he gently squeezed the curve of her waist.

As quickly as it had come, the feeling vanished. She'd been treading on dangerous ground. Hell, if she really let herself go, she might have begun to think they were lovers. Faye pushed the thought from her mind and collected herself. Wasn't she in the middle of being irritated with him?

"You know, so long as we're spinning an elaborate web of lies here, it would be helpful if you would keep me updated on them," Faye hissed.

"Would you have come if I did?"

Faye thought for a moment as they paused in front of the polished golden doors of the elevator. "Would I have had a choice?"
"No – but it would have made the entire affair much more uncomfortable if I had told you."

"Spike," she said evenly, attempting to keep her voice quiet lest the other guests overhear her, "As far as being uncomfortable goes, I don't think its going to get much worse than sharing a hotel room with you."

"We can only hope."

The elevator in front of them chimed and the doors slid smoothly open. Faye took a breath as they stepped inside. The interior of the elevator matched the mirror-like gold doors, and the soft light above seemed to streak across the heavy doors as they closed.

As soon as they were alone, Faye knocked his arm away. His nearness was really beginning to irritate her. "If you don't keep your hands off me, I swear to God – "

"What's wrong? Am I making you uncomfortable?" he asked.

Faye couldn't tell if the lilt in his voice was meant to be intimidating or playful. Not that she gave a damn. She crossed her arms, pressing them hard over her chest. "No."

"Good. It might be hard to keep up appearances if that were the case."

Faye huffed at that, but didn't say anything. Elaborate con aside, she couldn't help but think that her fake honeymoon with Spike was turning out to be more romantic than her actual honeymoon with Luke. Not that they even had a proper honeymoon to speak of – his idea of a romantic getaway was a quickie in the pool house. And, of course, as far as affection went, there was no contest. The most she ever got from Luke was a quick wink and a "Love ya, babe" – except on those rare occasions they appeared together in public. And, even then, his fawning over her was more a way of marking his territory than representing any kind of genuine feeling he had for her.

The sound of the doors sliding open jarred her back to reality. Suddenly, the thought of Spike being more affectionate and loving than her own husband only fueled her growing annoyance with him. As he moved to walk forward into the hall, Faye stopped him, thrusting her arm in front of his stomach.

Colliding with her arm nearly knocked the wind out of him – she could tell by the "oompf" sound that escaped his lips. That thought, at least, brought a smile to her face.

"Ladies first, Spike," she said, stepping into the hallway. She swore she could feel the heat of his gaze on her back as she left.


If the lobby was impressive, the hotel room could only be described as nothing less than astonishing. Bright sunlight flooded the living room, spilling through the massive floor-to-ceiling French windows and past the heavy silk drapes which were loosely bound aside. The high ceilings were painted pastel blue and streaked with fluffy, white clouds. For a moment, Faye was sure she was looking through a skylight rather than the ceiling.

A large, overflowing fruit basket was placed on a dark mahogany table in the middle of the living room near a few chairs and a low fainting couch. Faye stepped out of her black pumps and let her feet sink into the luxurious carpet. She kicked her shoes toward the pile of luggage which the bellhops had expertly snuck into their room before they arrived. Faye made her way over to the fruit basket and picked up a full, green apple.

"Well?" Spike asked.

"Well what?"

"You're not impressed?"

Faye snorted, "Hardly."

"Ah, yes," Spike said, gently closing the door behind him, "How could I forget that Faye Kennedy has become accustomed to the finer things in life?"

She thought for a moment, taking a bite from her apple. It was cool and crisp and she liked the sound it made as her teeth broke the skin. After swallowing the first bite she replied, "Don't beat yourself up over it, Spike. You never have been particularly sharp."

"Did you have to think about that one, Valentine?"

"Momentarily."

Spike crossed the large living room and pulled back the heavy blue curtain that led into the master bedroom. Faye strode behind him, taking another bite of the large apple. When she reached his side, she felt as though she should have been putting her arm around his waist. She raised her hand for a moment and nearly brushed the back of his jacket before she stopped herself. What was she doing? This was Spike, for God's sake.

It was the atmosphere, she told herself. The gleaming light, the voluptuous silk that brushed against her arm as she stopped at his side, and the delicate scent of fresh fruit that permeated the air – she felt as though she had wandered into someone else's photograph … some bright place that belonged on the front of a postcard rather than in reality. It reminded her of a picture she might have sent to her family while she was on her honeymoon. If she'd had a honeymoon. Or a family.

The air was thinner on Venus, too. And of course there were those strange, floating plants. It must have been something in the air.

"I guess you'll be sleeping on the couch," Spike said. He walked to the king-sized canopy bed near the wall and plopped down on the side. Faye heard a whooshing sound as air escaped from the heavy down comforter beneath him. She watched as he scooted up the bed, finally collapsing against the pillow.

"Yeah, think again, Cowboy."

"Well, you're not sleeping in here."

"Like hell I'm not."

Spike closed his eyes and placed his hands behind his head, "Over my dead body."

"Do you really want me to take you up on that? Because I have a Glock 30 in my suitcase, and I've been dying to use it."

"Doesn't matter to me. You're the one that's going to have to sleep in the bloody spot."

Faye took one last bite of her apple before tossing it in the small trashcan near the door frame. She pulled the curtain closed behind her – exactly why, she wasn't sure – and made her way over to the bed. Once there, she placed her hands firmly on the soft mattress and proceeded to crawl to the top. When she reached the pillow she turned to lie down on her back, making sure to assume his position as she did so.

She felt the bed shift and, instinctively, she leaned toward Spike, letting her gaze settle on his face. He turned his head – which was still pressed against the crisp satin pillow – and opened an eye to look at her. "I don't find this routine cute," he said.

Faye smirked, turning on her side to rest on her elbow. "Cute? What would make you think I'm trying to act cute?"

"You're not sleeping in this bed."

"Oh, really?"

"Really."

She grinned devilishly and lowered her voice, "How are you going to stop me?"

"I suppose I can't." He was silent for a moment, then turned away. "You're welcome to sleep here if you like."

Faye raised a brow. Spike was never one to give up this easily. "You're actually going to take the couch.? On what condition?"

"I said you could sleep here. I didn't say I'd take the couch."

Faye huffed, "You're not serious."

"As a heart attack."

"You'd let me sleep here? With you?"

"Sure. I mean, you're right. It's not as though I could keep you out." Another pause. Faye kept her eyes fixed on his face as he stared idly at the ceiling. She felt the bed shift again and assumed he moved his legs. "Besides," he began, "I'm not the one who's married."

She narrowed her eyes as she realized what he was doing. Honestly, did he think he could scare her off with subtle threats? Not that the attempt surprised her – it was all part of the delicate subterfuge that defined their relationship. If he wanted to play dirty, she would too. After all, it wasn't as though she could just let him win.

"All right, Spiegel. As long as you're sure you don't mind." She decided to employ a dramatic pause of her own. Two could play at this game, after all.

Spike had turned his head toward her again. He lifted a brow and she swore she saw the corner of his mouth curling upward into that smug, self assured smirk. Time to strike.

Faye made sure to lock her gaze with his as she prepared to speak. "You won't mind if I wear my chemise and panties to bed, will you? I always feel a bit uncomfortable sleeping with a bunch of fabric clinging to my body."

She delivered the line as coolly as she could – though, saying 'panties' with a straight face while staring into Spike's deep-set eyes had been a challenge. She swore she saw his eyes widen at her casual remark, though she couldn't be sure. God forbid his features ever betray the slightest hint of emotion.

"Fine with me."

His response seemed uncharacteristically clipped. She chalked up a point in her mind. Faye 1, Spike 0.

Spike licked his lips, letting his eyes wander around the room for a moment. Faye couldn't tell if she'd made him uncomfortable or if it was his subtle way of suggesting she get the hell out of the room and leave him be for a change.

He took a breath and she watched for a moment as his broad chest rose and fell. He still wore that atrocious suit, of course, and she noticed that the yellow shirt looked as though it hadn't been pressed in months. She imagined the shirt, along with his other clothes, simply ended up in a heap on his bedroom floor. Not that she normally entertained thoughts of his clothes piled on the floor of his room. Or thoughts about the way he must look in the morning, his body still heavy with sleep, as he slid his well muscled arms into the sleeves of that shirt, his fingers fumbling with the buttons. And, of course, she certainly didn't entertain thoughts of Spike, half-naked, moving in that lazy and languid way he always seemed to employ in executing every little action. Not that she thought of that – ever. Except now. Damn it.

"So..." he drawled. His low voice distracted her, and the rough sound of it sent a shiver down her spine – it seemed to drag along the sensitive skin of her neck like the tip of a calloused finger.

"So," she replied softly.

"We've got a whole night to kill before work tomorrow."

We? What we? He couldn't be asking her if she was up for a night on the town. She would have laughed if she hadn't been so shocked.

"Uh huh…"

"How 'bout a drink?"

"You're asking me if I want a drink?" Faye asked incredulously. Had she misheard him? Even when they lived together on the Bebop, Spike always seemed to do everything in his power to get away from her. And now, after they'd checked into the hotel and he had every opportunity to slip off to some shady bar, he wanted to spend even more time with her? Maybe the Venus air was getting to him, too.

"Well, I know you're never one to refuse a cheap drink. But I thought I'd ask out of sheer politeness."

Faye cracked a smile. At least some things hadn't changed. "Mmm, yes. A cheap drink is to Faye Valentine as a cheap date is to Spike Spiegel."

"Ah, insult by analogy. Glad to see that you're finally using derision at a fifth-grade level."

"And I'm glad to see that you're finally using fifth-grade words like 'derision.'"

Spike gave her an uncharacteristic smirk, "Get your shoes," he said simply as he rose off the bed.

Faye waited for a moment, then sighed contentedly. "…Another man, crippled by the witty repartee of the stunning Faye Valentine."

A/N: Okay, so the title's not all that subtle. But I had a hell of a time finding a song, and this one is as close as it got. It also made me laugh. Besides that, I spent hours poring over this chapter, trying to get it just right. Now, frankly, I am tired of looking at it, and I think this is as good as it gets. Again, I'd LOVE to hear what you think...I welcome both praise and criticism! Right now, I am concerned with getting the characters down. I am soooo bad with characters. Sigh…but we all have our strong and weak points, right?

And, for those of you who might be anxiously awaiting teh hawtt secks, I am not sure how far off that is yet. It is planned but, due to other details centering on that scene, it must be strategically placed. However, I can promise other wonderful things in the coming chapters! Feelings will soon be revealed! Tension will rise! And Faye's baby daddy will finally be revealed! … Oh wait … that is from my other hit fic, "As the Bebop Turns." Well anyway, I can promise the first two things!

Hugs and Kisses,

Nevi