Okay so I had to do another chapter D: - I hope it's alright...

It was raining outside and the window was open, allowing a cool breeze to flutter the curtains and relieve the room of some of its humidity. There were no lights on inside but the glow of a streetlamp outside washed the wallpaper orange, its dim light accentuating the ripples in the quilt, the folds of the sheet, and the contours of Faye's naked body where she lay atop the covers.

Her head rested on Spike's bare chest, facing upwards, and a stream of bluish smoke coiled freely from the cigarette between her fingers. The heady aftermath of their evening was spent and had dissolved into a lazy, quiet contentment.

Spike, too, held a cigarette in his hand that drooped unsupported over the side of the bed. With the other hand he slowly twirled a lock of Faye's hair, softly weaving out the knots he had caused fifteen minutes ago.

The floor was a mess of clothing, shoes and discarded pillows. The bed was a compilation of untidiness in all its forms but the two people, the man and the woman who occupied this space of somnambulate chaos, were totally unfazed by anything other than the euphoric sense of honesty that had given life to a new aspect of their relationship.

Just friends, huh. Work comrades, right? Who was I kidding, Faye thought half-heartedly. She had admitted to herself what she had admitted to Spike with her body: she liked him, a lot. There's no point thinking about it now, it's already done. She sighed internally. I shouldn't think about it anyway, least of all now. I'm so goddamn happy here.

She brought the cigarette to her lips and dragged deeply, revelling in the momentary heat of the smoke in her lungs before exhaling. There's nothing better than a cigarette after sex.

'We should go out,' said Spike, speaking for the first time in seemingly forever. 'Let me take you out, to dinner or something.'

'Like a date?' asked Faye, surprise colouring her tone. 'Is that what this is?'

'I don't know, is it?'

'I –' She hesitated, not entirely sure of the answer. She hadn't thought about what she actually wanted from Spike. More than sex, but not commitment. Companionship? Affection? Attention?

'I have no idea,' she said honestly. 'But seeing as I helped you for free, you can pay for a meal.'

He grinned slightly and pushed back his fringe.

'Deal.'

She looked over to smile at him and his eyes seemed to smoulder as he looked back at her. Spike had never seemed so contented before. With much effort, he extended his neck to lean down and kiss her, and Faye's heart fluttered as though it was the first time.

Every time she closed her eyes she could see his face, smiling, burning, moaning from before; she saw that blazing lust that she had desired for so long finally directed at her. His eyes had been alive with an indescribable passion that had been even more overwhelming than her imagination could have conjured in that little kitchen on the Bebop; the way he had held her waist, pulled at her hair, looked her right in the face made Faye only want him more. She wanted nothing more than to give herself into him.

Lying there on the bed covers, resting her head casually on his chest as though it was a phenomenon that occurred every day, she bit back a smile. She was still in a state of glorious disbelief.

It was almost 3:30am when they left the hotel for the nearest twenty-four-hour bar. They strolled together, stepping in time with one another unintentionally, carelessly dressed and comfortable enough to leave their hair tousled and unkempt. As they gaited down a shaded side-street, headed for the orange city glow, Spike put his arm leisurely around Faye's shoulders and pressed his lips into her hair.

'You're beautiful,' he told her unblushingly.

Faye leaned into him with pleasure, her heart seemingly without a care in the world. All her previous confusion and scepticism seemed so futile at this moment; where would she be if she hadn't listened to her true desire? In her bed alone at the Bebop? She definitely knew what she preferred.

'How long have you thought that?' she asked, slightly cautiously.

'Too long,' said Spike wearily.

'Why didn't you ever say anything?'

Spike shrugged. 'I guess I wasn't sure, or I didn't admit it to myself. And it's you, I mean, look at you!'

'What about me?' she said, raising her eyebrows.

'You're such a woman, you know; always out on your own doing your own thing. I didn't want to mess that up for you.'

'Well, you've messed that up pretty well whether you wanted to or not,' Faye laughed dryly.

'Apologies.'

'You'll be eventually forgiven.'

'You can't accuse me anyway,' he said matter-of-factly after they crossed the empty street. 'Why didn't you say anything?'

'I guess I was unsure as well,' Faye admitted. 'That's why I didn't visit you in hospital, I got a feeling I didn't like whenever I looked at you.'

'What was that feeling?'

'Something between fear and longing,' she shrugged.

'Are you happy now?'

Faye looked up at him, her head on his shoulder, and Spike's dark eyes were smouldering.

'Yes,' she said. 'Yes, I am very happy now.'

But Faye wasn't conveying everything on her mind. It seemed that with every step she took, more thoughts entered her mind until they swirled around, answerless, looking for some sort of obviously solution where there was none.

She didn't tell him that the reason she had been so hesitant was because of Julia… After all, the supposed love of Spike's life had been killed but three weeks ago, if that. Faye was afraid that if she brought it up or even mentioned Julia's name, Spike would remember and regret her, or become so consumed by sadness that he would push her away. Of course he would prefer Julia – who wouldn't? She was his other half, he had said so himself. So Faye couldn't help but wonder, as they strolled towards a main street, what Spike was thinking as he had his arm around her, or what was going through his mind when he had made love to her. Had he pretended she was Julia? The very idea made Faye feel sick and so she shoved it viciously out of her mind. You can never just be happy, can you, Faye? she thought bitterly to herself.

But she couldn't help the nagging suspicions that dogged her sense of dwindling contentment. He had left her for Julia once before, even when he knew how much she needed him. She had confessed to Spike that she could never be happy without his presence in her life, desperately, imploringly, even held a gun to his head in an attempt to convey the importance of her honesty; but he had left anyway.

'This will do,' said Spike, as though from a long way off, gesturing a dingy tavern called Boardwalk Inn, or Bo rdw lk In as some of the letters were missing their red luminescence.

He let go of Faye and stood back to let her enter first in an almost mockingly gentlemanly gesture. Faye raised her eyebrows slightly before sauntering past him and pushing open the door; as she passed, his hand smoothed over her backside once, but when she glanced over her shoulder his expression was as passive as ever. When her heart pounded at this simple sensual act, she surprised herself by resenting it.

All of these thoughts, these possibilities, hung like a cloud over her happiness. She couldn't be satisfied with Spike until she had some answers, and though this pub at almost-four in the morning was neither the right place nor the right time, she knew she couldn't hold back the tempest of inquiries that jumped to her lips every time she looked at him.

Grimly, she made her way towards the bar that was ominously similar to the one on Mars that she had so often retreated to, resolved on the conversation she was going to have to have.