As promised, chapter five…Please enjoy!

* * * Ch. 5 – NO SELF CONTROL (The Pillows) * * *

After a while, despite of how much you think you hate change, you get used to things being different. I find myself very aware of this as I smoke alone on the deck of the Bebop. I've already finished my coffee, but the sun still hasn't fully come out. The wisps of smoke coming from my cigarette blend into the dull sky. I'm watching nothing and doing nothing. The only thing that seems to be alive is the burning paper and tobacco.

It looks like it's going to be a good day. It's not too cloudy and there's this nice breeze. So, I wait silently until the sky finally becomes blue. I turn around and walk back into the ship, stretching my shoulders and neck as I go.

It's only been two months since Faye left, but it already feels like she was never here. The bathroom doesn't smell like that flowery shampoo that she always used and there's always hot water. When I do the laundry, I don't ever find her stray hosiery somehow mixed up with my clothes. There's even enough food to go around, even when our bounty gains are only mediocre.

I think the only difference since she was here is that new scar on my left side. Only when I happen to gaze at it, I remember that it's only been a couple of weeks. I remember the last time I saw her. And I also remember how stupid I can be…

Still. Looking at it now, it's kind of nice. I didn't think that I could behave like that anymore. Or rather, that I could force myself to somehow be part of something that for the longest time I had only been satisfied with watching. I know that it was wrong for me to, of all things, choose to intrude in Faye's relationship. And if I could replay that night, just for my sake, I would prevent myself from behaving in such manner. Acting like that towards her made me think in a way that I shouldn't. That's why…regardless if because of it, for a while, I stopped feeling like I didn't have a purpose, I wish I had never touched her skin.

But all of this is irrelevant. I was wrong. Nothing resulted from my stupidity: Faye can't stop thinking about Damian. And we have nothing to do with each other anymore. So there's nothing to fix. Nothing at all.

"Have you figured out anything about Smith?" Jet asks as soon as he spots me.

"Just what I need," I tell him. "I'm planning on catching him tomorrow night…he's a small catch, so I'm not worried."

"You've been catching a lot of small ones lately."

"But it adds up, doesn't it?"

"I suppose…And with Ed like she is, I can't really help you out anyway."

"This is why I hate children, they get sick so easily."

"Are you aware of how old she actually is?"

"No. But compared to us, she's still a kid. Besides, you treat her more like a kid than anyone else…You know, soon enough she'll get old enough and leave the nest for good."

Jet smirks, "I'm used to it….But it seems that you're the only one I can't ever get rid of."

"But you need me Jet," I respond mockingly, "If you didn't have me now, how would you be able to keep up with your expenses?"

"I wouldn't have to feed you, that's how."

"Which reminds me, what's for lunch?"

"I don't know," Jet says aloofly, "maybe chicken soup." By the time he finishes saying this, he's already out of range, probably wanting to hear nothing back from me.

I sigh. Without Faye, my life suddenly became boring.

I didn't realize until now how much time I wasted noticing things she did. Even stupid things, somehow I actually paid attention to them all. I don't know whether this is because I couldn't help but notice her change into someone different, or because I was just bored…Or if I was always aware of her but just never really thought about it. Either way, I'd gotten adjusted to using up my life watching her live out hers.

Being stuck with Jet and Ed, it seems that my days are so long and monotonous…like there's something missing from my already incomplete stasis. Which is odd. How can something be missing from something that was never complete?

I hate Faye's absence because I can't get distracted and I end up noticing things about myself that I hadn't addressed before. Like, I've become worse than she was before being with Damian. I mean, honestly worse in every aspect. I smoke more. I drink more. I've probably slept with more women in one month than she dated men in three.

This just started recently too. Before, I used to think that I was such a well-behaved man while waiting for Julia. And even after accepting her death, it was only occasional. But now, it seems I have the urges and rebellion of a seventeen-year-old. It must be that I'm getting old or something. Maybe I'm entering some sort of mid-life crisis a decade too soon.

I go out quite a bit, but it's not like I do it specifically to meet women. If it happens, fine, I'll take the opportunity. But the only reason I leave the Bebop is to distract myself from thinking too much. That's why, tonight, I decide to visit a bar in the middle of town.

Before leaving, Jet calls out to me. He tells me to come back early enough since he doesn't want to travel to our bounty destination just a few hours before the hunt. It makes sense since I'm the one who's actually doing any of the work, so I acknowledge him distantly before I exit the ship and begin to wander around the streets.

After a few minutes, I finally reach my destination. The bar is a cozy place that smells of fermenting beer. There are only seven tables on the room and five stools by the counter. It's decently inhabited and the liquor is reasonably priced.

I sit alone on one of the edges of the counter, simply enjoying my drink. Then, after about twenty minutes of being unaccompanied, a woman sits next to me. She glances at me for a second then turns away shyly. I ask for another drink and when the bartender comes by, she takes the opportunity to order herself a drink as well. I'm used to sitting in silence, but the woman must not be because she's biting her lips as if thinking of a way to break the ice. I think she's going to give up. But just then, she asks what I'm drinking.

"Whiskey," I tell her.

"Is it good?" she says before cutting herself short "-that's a stupid question. Why drink it otherwise, right?"

I shrug my shoulders and say nonchalantly, "It's good."

She laughs quietly, "Sorry, I don't come to bars often and I'm not much of a drinker so I ask dumb things sometimes."

I'm bored so I ask her, "What's a not-much-of-a-drinker doing in a bar?"

She seems glad that I haven't just chosen to ignore her as she says, "Celebrating of course!"

I look around the premises. Even though it's a bar, it's a relatively relaxed crowd. "This isn't much of a celebrating atmosphere," I tell her.

She smiles awkwardly, "I know. But my apartment's only a few blocks away, so it's easy to get here…How about you? Are you here just drinking?"

"Pretty much."

"Ah, that doesn't sound like too much fun."

"Yet you're the one celebrating here."

"Well, I say that I'm celebrating, but I really just want to get drunk too." She pauses as she picks up the long strands of dark brown hair away from her face and places them behind her ears. She says, "I didn't know what else to do and this is the only thing that I thought you're supposed to do in my situation…that is…I got cheated on." She lifts her left hand showing me her gold band and continues, "See, I'm married…I think I'm supposed to feel much more offended by it, but I can't say I didn't think it was happening before I found out. The sad thing is, he insists that he still loves me and I don't really want to leave him…or at least not yet."

I take a drink out of my glass slowly before noting her emphasis on a particular word, "Yet?"

"Yet…because I hope that he still really loves me. You know, the whole eye for an eye thing, that's one of the few things I think makes sense…I feel like…I should get back at him. And if he doesn't love me anymore, or if I leave him now, there won't be much of a point to do it because he won't feel what I did."

"You're not really here to just get drunk then…"

"No, I am," she says definitively. "I figured that if I got wasted enough I'd end up sleeping with someone…That's why I say I'm here celebrating. I used to do things like this when I was younger. But it seems that when a woman hits thirty that's our end." She laughs, seemingly acceptant of this. "So," she says, "are you really here just for a drink?"

She turns on the stool to face me as I simply answer, "Yeah."

Her fingers lace in her lap and her face turns a bit red as she asks, "Well, I'd rather not get wasted and suffer with the hangover tomorrow…So, if that's all you're doing…do you want to help me?"

I take my lips away from the glass after I finish taking another drink. I look at her and for the first time notice that she has green eyes. The air around her seems familiar too. I keep staring at her eyes and don't answer.

"I like your voice…" she says smiling, as if somehow that would make a difference. It takes a while, but it seems to work because I'm finally able to blink.

I laugh lightly and say, "Is that enough of a reason to?"

"At least there's a reason," she says, laughing herself. After a few seconds, she turns back on the stool and continues, "But if I'm too old for you too, or if it's because I'm married, I understand. I'd like to think I'm not so desperate that I have to force someone."

I think about it and realize that it's been a week and a half since the last time. I've been trying to be good about it. But. Whatever…"I like your eyes."

"What?" she says a bit surprised.

"Well, since you were the one to ask me first, I figured I was supposed to play hard to get. But it didn't seem to be working."

She laughs again, blushing. "Damn, I've lost practice. I really don't know what I'm doing. Right?"

But I thought that on the contrary, she knew exactly what she was doing. She was obviously that type of person to painstakingly think about everything before deciding to make a choice, the type of woman with a set mind that controlled her feelings. In that sense, I suppose she's closer to Julia than to Faye.

We talk for a while longer and I finally learn that her name is Lillian. Just a few minutes after that, we leave the bar. She tells me that she'd asked her husband for a short break so that we should just use her apartment instead of wasting money on a room.

During the walk there, we continue talking, and I'm glad that I can at least have a decent conversation with her as well. With Faye gone, if I talk to anybody it's just Jet or Ed. It isn't much of a choice and most of the time I feel like I'm either talking to a single mother or an unwanted younger sibling. At least, Faye didn't sound like she seriously scolded me or acted like a hyperactive monkey. But I guess, she was just becoming interesting to watch since she was getting boring to talk to too. After all, the only word that continuously spilled from her mouth was Damian's name.

"Here it is," Lillian says when we stop at the front of a three story building. It's kind of old and painted in a weird, light blue color. "I live on the second floor."

We go up the stairs and when she unlocks the door, she has to struggle with the doorknob. When she finally opens the door, I notice that there are papers scattered everywhere. After she lets me in, I look closer at them and notice that they're actually drawings. On the walls, on the tables, on the couch. The whole living room is covered in them.

I pick one up. It's a sketch of a nude woman with shoulder length hair. I look up at Lillian; her hair reaches her waist. "Do you draw?" I ask.

"Oh, no!" she says, "Mick's an artist. In fact, that woman is his lover. Ah, but I should have seen it coming, a twenty-year-old model had become his muse."

I stare at the drawing, "Why do you still keep these around then?"

"I'm going to sell them, of course," she says as if that was the most obvious answer. "Do you want something to drink?"

"No, I'm fine," I tell her setting the drawing down, thinking that Faye might have done the same.

Lillian calls out to me. When I face her, she crosses her arms and shrugs her shoulders, slightly pushing her breasts together in the motion. She leans forward a bit, the neck of her shirt falling low, and casually says, "Well…then…should we just have sex now?"

When we walk into her and her husband's bedroom, I notice that the bed is made very neatly. I look away from the floral printed sheets, take off my coat, and begin to undo my tie. Seeing this, Lillian comes closer to me and places her hands over mine, a gesture that allows our bodies to make contact for the first time.

"Mick never wears anything but t-shirts and jeans," she says smiling temptingly. "But I think men with ties are sexy."

A small smile grazes my face and I ask, "You think so?"

"Yes. Very sexy," she says assuredly, her voice soft and seductive.

She pulls me closer, nearly using my tie as a lasso, and kisses me. I smirk, with our lips still touching, wondering whether it was the fact that she was such an assertive woman, rather than her age, that led her husband away. Because, to be honest, I don't think she looks any older than twenty-eight, which is a lot as far as women's ages go.

The longer we kiss, the more I notice that she really is very dominant. Except that, unlike her husband, who probably isn't enough of a man to do it, there's no way I'm letting her have all of the fun. That's why, rather than letting her keep me at her height, I place my hands around her face and lift her closer to me. She has to stand high on the tips of her feet and her balance is shifted forward so that her body is pressed against mine. She appears to enjoy it. After a few seconds, however, she seems annoyed by the fact that she's not the one in control anymore and she pushes me back onto the bed.

But, even before reaching the mattress, I take a hold of her shoulders and twist our bodies so that she's the one that ends at the bottom. When the movement stops, her chest heaves up and down rhythmically following her slow, deep breaths. She looks taken aback, like if I had just done something that was inhumanly possible.

I pick up her hands from her abdomen, and move them up and away from her body, leaving her completely vulnerable. I smile down at her and kiss her neck. She squirms a little, still trying to change our positions, but as my lips move closer to the v-line neck of her shirt, she stops. Instead of trying to force space, she arches her body, desperately trying to close the gap between my mouth and her skin.

She licks her lips and bites them shut, attempting to keep her moans from projecting too much. My skin begins to burn and I move away from her body to unbutton my shirt. In spite of this, she sits up as well, kissing my hands and sucking my fingers before they even move over the first button. Eventually, I manage to undo the first three. Somehow, Lillian takes her shirt off and throws it aside before wrapping her arms over my neck and pulling me down again so that my mouth is on her chest.

"Don't stop," she says wrapping her legs around my waist. Her voice is so soft and desperate that I really don't feel like I have much of an option. But I do tease her a little by very slowly undoing the hooks of her bra. When she notices this, she pleads in the same airy voice, "Please."

When I consent, I feel my skin crawling as her hands move over my chest, slowly unbuttoning the rest of my shirt. She pulls until she untucks my undershirt. Then, she slides one of her warm hands underneath, moving from the middle of my abdomen, over my chest, and up to my left shoulder. I lift my arms, one at a time, as she manages to bare my torso. With our skin touching, I can feel the blood rushing to my head.

I move slowly, really enjoying the feel of her skin and her body. She squirms underneath me and moans loudly, the pressure in my body pulsating anytime she does. Then, as I continue to move over her skin, she buries her fingers in my hair, as if there would be a chance I would leave things unfinished. From time to time, it appears that she's still trying to change our positions. But after a few hasty tries, she gives up on the idea rather easily.

After we've both been sexually satisfied, we don't pretend that what we did was anything more than sex. We lay in bed, each on one side, heaving for a few minutes. I glance at the clock just before it turns twelve-thirty and remember that I was supposed to be back at the Bebop.

"Shit…" I say quietly, "It's already this late…"

Lillian looks over at me, "Do you need to get going, then?"

"Yeah," I answer sitting up.

Lillian wants to try doing it again some other time, but I tell her that I will be leaving town. She sighs and tells me that at least she got the chance to finally get back at her husband. She helps me gather my things and walks me to the door of her apartment after I'm dressed.

She's still wrapped with a floral sheet of her bed so she hides behind the door as she watches me leave. She whispers, "Thanks for tonight. If you want to meet again, you know where to find me!" I know it's late, and since I'm already out in the hallway, I turn to face her and simply wave back, giving her a small smile while staring at her green eyes.

Walking back to the Bebop feels longer than it should. There isn't that many people on the streets and the lights are dimmed. It feels like I'm the only living person in the town. I think that if it had been Mars, people would still be bustling about. It feels like time is endless there. Maybe that's why Faye decided to stay.

When I make it back to the ship, Jet scolds me for being late again. However, he doesn't bother me with it for too long, instead deciding to go ahead and leave for Mars. After seeing him move to the control room, I make my way to the bathroom. After a good shower, I change into my sleeping clothes and fall asleep rather quickly.

The next morning, I wake up in Mars. Ed's still sick. Jet's asleep on my yellow couch.

I don't bother waking him up since it seems like forever since I've seen him resting. I think that only the morning will be this uneventful, but it ends up being the whole day. As it turns out, the bounty hunt proves to be the least exciting event of the day. Catching Smith isn't hard at all. The idiot runs into a dead end and that pretty much takes care of him.

I take him to the police department and get my compensation. It's already past ten, although because Mars is such a lively place, it looks too bright. Either way, I'm still tired from last night so I think that this will be it for me today. Jet calls to see how things went even before I have the chance to leave the police department. I tell him about it as I buy a drink from a vending machine. I say to him that I'm about to head back and then we hang up.

I light a cigarette as I walk down the steps of the building. Just then, I see a car pulling up that looks exactly like the one Damian uses. Since this is his workplace, I wonder if it's actually him. I stare at the vehicle for a moment, questioning whether I should pretend I don't see it.

It doesn't take me much to decide and I continue walking away from the building. After I'm far enough to be lost in the crowd, I have to satisfy my curiosity so I glance back to see if it really was his car. I nearly miss him since, as soon as I turn, Damian walks into the building.

But it's Saturday night. Isn't this Faye's night?

I finish the rest of my drink and continue smoking as I walk back to the ship. When I reach the Bebop, I notice a sleek black car parked very close by. I glance at it a couple of times then make my way inside the ship.

When I open the door, I'm greeted by something unusual. The silence that I expect is gone. Instead, I walk slowly, hearing noises of liveliness coming from the living room. I hear Jet for a second. A cough. And then a short laugh that rings in my ears. I quicken my step a bit and stop once I'm in the living room.

She's here.

Faye hears the sudden death of my steps. "Hey!" she says happily while embracing Ed hard against her chest. Ed flings her arms around, trying to get her face away from between Faye's breasts. She does so, just in time to sneeze. Faye grimaces and covers her face just before it happens. "Don't be gross," Faye says pushing Ed away like if she had become an unwanted toy.

I stare at her, for I don't know how long, while she cleans her face. When I catch myself doing this, I force myself to face Jet. "Is there anything to eat?" I ask him.

He get's up from the couch and I follow him into the kitchen. "There's a plate for you in the fridge," he says pulling it out. He hands it to me and waits as I heat it up. He must have seen me glancing towards the living room because he says, "It's weird, isn't it?"

"I don't think there's another way of putting it," I respond slowly.

"You know, Damian saw you at the police department earlier. He told Faye about it and then she called me to make sure we were here. She came quickly and the first thing she did was talk with Ed. I don't know what happened but…they don't seem to be mad anymore."

I get my food once it has been heated and sit down to eat. I take a bite and now it's too hot. I blow on it a little and continue eating. Jet sits across from me drinking a glass of water. We sit in silence as I slowly eat my dinner. Then, Faye comes into the kitchen.

She still moves around it as if she knows exactly were everything is. She fills a glass full of orange juice and is about to close the fridge when she glances over at the table. For some reason, she sits that glass down right next to my plate. When I turn to see her, she is already reaching for another glass. She fills it up and walks out of the kitchen without saying a word. Jet and I stare at the orange juice sitting in front of my plate.

"Is this for me?" I ask.

For some reason, Jet looks around the table, "I guess…maybe she saw that you didn't have anything to drink."

I stop eating and pick up the glass. I don't know why but I spill the first thing that comes to my mind, "Doesn't it makes sense that she would do it out of habit." I take a drink then say, "I mean, she must do this for Damian all the time."

"That makes sense…"

A bit before I finish, Faye walks into the kitchen and sits on the chair that was usually hers. Her pristine white blouse, decently buttoned. Her hair pinned away from her face. Sitting perfectly without a hint of a slouch…The only thing I can think of is that she looks out of place being here.

"Jet," she begins.

"What is it?"

"I…wanted to take Ed with me…so that she could meet Damian…but since she's sick…" and that's all she says. She knits her fingers together and shifts her glance towards her hands.

But Jet is able to speak easily, "You want him to come here?"

"I want her to meet him," she says again.

I feel like I'm intruding, even if I'm just sitting here it's uncomfortable. So, I pick up my plate as I stand up aloofly. I put the dishes in the sink and walk away from the kitchen. As I pass through the living room, I see that Ed's fallen asleep on my yellow couch all wrapped up in blankets. Seeing this, I continue walking to my room.

I lie down on my bed and cover my eyes with my forearm. I wonder why Jet can handle things like this much better than I can. Well, I guess I've never been any good at things like this anyway. Still. Being bothered by Faye is something I—shit. I'm thinking about it again.

My fingertips itch. I lift my arm from over my eyes and stare at my fingers. Why was it that in spite of all the things I've done with women, the one thing I can remember right now is the feel of Faye's spine under my thumb?

"I shouldn't think like this," I say to myself and hide my hand underneath my pillow.

I don't realize that I fall asleep, but I'm suddenly woken up. I glance at the clock. Only thirty minutes have passed. I sit up and rub my eyes for a few seconds. My mouth is really dry and I feel like it's too hot. I sit in bed for a minute before walking to the kitchen to get something to drink.

I had forgotten. Until I saw Faye sitting closely next to Damian, talking to Ed and Jet. I had completely forgotten that he was coming. And when I grasp this, he's already seen me.

"Ah, hello," he says. "Spike, right?"

I nod, noticing he's chosen not to call me Mr. Spiegel. Then, I cover my mouth as I yawn.

"Sorry to intrude like this."

I shrug my shoulders, "That's something you should say to Jet, not me."

He laughs. "I already have…But it's a bit late so I feel I should say this to all of you."

"Well, I just came to get a drink. I'm going to bed already. So whether you're here or not, it doesn't concern me."

"Why so early?" Jet says. "Stay with us for a while."

That. Damned. Bastard.

Because he says this, somehow, I end up stuck in the living room listening to things that I could care less about. Worse yet, I'm sure Jet's doing this on purpose. Just like before Faye left, he's prodding to see my reaction towards her and Damian's relationship.

"It's getting tougher being in this position," Damian says referring to being commissioner. "I'm getting a lot more threats now. And sometimes, they don't stop at that. About two months ago, someone actually managed to shoot me. Fortunately, the vest kept the bullet from harming me."

"That's interesting," I mutter distantly. "Someone shot me at about the same time. Isn't that right Faye?"

She stares at me but doesn't say anything. Instead, Damian asks, "You were shot?"

"Yeah, it was the fault of some clumsy woman."

I lose track of time. Today of all days, I wish I would have decided to stay out late. I'm sure that if I hadn't come back, I would have been able to have a relatively good time loitering the bars. But instead, I'm inevitably watching Damian and Faye.

It's obvious that they're very close. The way they talk. The way they act. It seems to match so well. But if being so in tune with each other showed how much they cared for each other, what did it mean when Faye and I used to be like that? I don't mean the way that they're all over each other. I mean the fact that Faye and I used to have this odd connection too. Understanding each other. Did that really showed how much you cared?

For some reason, we end staying up until one in the morning. Ed's nodding away from time to time until Jet finally tells her to get to bed. She doesn't want to leave claiming that she wants to spend more time with Faye too. Jet tells her that she'll see her again so just to go to bed or otherwise he wouldn't let her see Faye at all. Ed doesn't seem to budge until Faye tells her that she'll be here in the morning too.

When Ed leaves the room, Faye tells Damian, "I want to stay here tonight."

"Why?" he says. "Can't you come home with me and then come back in the morning? Since I had to deal with McClellan's case, I didn't really get to see you this week."

"But I…it's already this late. Going home and coming back would be too much. Knowing Ed, she's sure to wake up first thing in the morning. And we just…"

He takes his glasses off and rubs the bridge of his nose for a second. Then, he says, "Okay, but in the morning, I'll come pick you up so we can have breakfast together."

Faye gently grabs his glasses away from his hands. "Thank you," she says. After that, she gives his lips a quick kiss before carefully sliding his glasses back into place. Unashamedly. Right in front of Jet….Right in front of me.

"If you're going to go through all that trouble," Jet says, "stay here as well. It really is late anyway."

"I don't know if I could impose like that," Damian says.

Jet smirks, "I'm used to taking people in, so if you don't mind staying at a place like this, it really doesn't matter."

They continue making arrangements while I sit there smoking and thinking, "how am I supposed to feel about this?" It frustrates me. Then, I rise from the couch realizing that I should not even be thinking about that to begin.

Faye walks after Ed, apparently to tell her about the decision. Damian goes to the restroom. So, Jet and I are left alone.

"They're not staying in my room," I say directly.

"I didn't think it was an option to begin," Jet responds. "I guess they'll stay in mine…I need to go clean it up a bit. With Ed sick, I haven't had the chance to even do my bed…Go find Faye and Damian and tell them where they'll be staying."

"I'm your messenger boy now?"

"I'm not your mother either but I end up cooking for you either way."

When Jet leaves, I look around the living room and realize that I'm very tired. I yawn a couple of times before going to find Faye. The ship's hallways are very quiet, so while I walk, it seems I can hear every sound, insignificant as it may be. I go check Ed's room, but she tells me that Faye's already left.

Just before I leave her room, she says to me that she still doesn't like Damian. But that Faye really does seem happy, so it doesn't matter what she thinks of him anymore. I feel bad for her but I only say that it's late and she needs to sleep. She does so willingly and I continue my search.

After a minute or so, I finally hear Faye's voice saying, "We can't do that here."

"I know," Damian says, "But a kiss is fine, isn't it?"

Then, I can clearly hear the contact of their mouths. The little smacking sounds gradually grow faster and louder and I want to turn around and leave. Yet I've become immobile. As they're breathing becomes deeper, I try to focus on something else; but the sounds they're making only amplify as I try to divert them. And, although I can't see anything, I know that his hands have found their way underneath her shirt. Stranger yet, I feel like I have the right to stop him.

I don't have the right, I continuously repeat to myself. But even as this echoes through my mind, I finally become mobile as I walk closer to them, making sure that my steps are evidently audible. By the time I turn the corner, they're about a foot away from each other. Faye's face is all red and Damian looks, like always, composed.

"You're staying in Jet's room," I tell Faye and watch her get a little redder under my stare. Waiting to hear nothing from her, I turn around as if I didn't notice anything and continue to my room.

I try to fall asleep, but anytime I do, it seems like the only thing I can see is Faye being with Damian. I can't help but think that maybe, just as I'm thinking about this, they are continuing what I had interrupted. I hate when my mind betrays me like this. I'm tired. I want to sleep. But I don't want to close my eyes. Even though they're much too far away for me to be able to hear anything, the sounds Faye had made earlier resonate in my ears. I cover my head with my pillow, as if that would somehow stop the sounds, and close my eyes tightly. I force myself to think of something completely unrelated, and only then, I'm able to fall asleep.

But in the end, I end up dreaming about Faye.

In my dream, there is no Damian and it's my lips that are touching hers. It's my hands that are roaming freely over her skin as her arms wrap around my neck and her fingers tangle in my hair. I dream that we're in my room and that I'm kissing her thighs, closer and closer to the part of her I want. All the little noises, she's making them for me as my hands wander over the soft parts of her. I dream about the pulsating of her body and the pressure of her legs around my waist, the pins in her hair falling with our momentum and her nails digging deeper and deeper into my back.

And then I wake up.

After that, I'm unable to fall asleep again. I know it's only a dream, but it's gotten my heart racing and my mind in a blur. And it gets worse; particularly when I wonder what it would feel like if I could have my impulses become a reality.

I lay in bed for a few minutes, breathing profoundly and trying to regain my consciousness. Once I'm able to calm down, and since it's already six in the morning, I get up and out of my bed. I feel the strong urge to do something, like there's too much pent up energy that I need to get rid off. I stretch a bit and then begin to spar alone. I continue doing this for over an hour. I keep my arms and legs moving even as the sweat slides heavily over my skin. My muscles are aching. But I don't want to stop yet. If I do, I'm anxious of whatever it is I will feel afterwards.

Then, my luck has it that the first person I see this morning is Damian. He's already dressed and he's cleaning the lenses of his glasses. He comes to a stop when he sees me in the room. Suddenly he asks, "Can you answer a question for me?"

I don't respond. Instead, I continue hitting the air, harder now. Trying to maintain my mind at a reasonable stability.

He chuckles before politely saying, "It's good to know you don't like me. Because, I honestly can't stand you either."

"Good," I respond sardonically, "But if you want to ask something, standing there like an idiot won't do much."

"Ah, that's right," he responds with an air of superiority that irks me, "I have a lot of things to do with Faye today…but…I want to know…She talks quite a bit about you guys. And you. You come up pretty often. I don't want to make much of it, but seeing you last night…I've been thinking about it again, and I can't help but wonder why she's like that."

"Have you figured it out?" I say shortly.

"Seriously?" He says annoyed, "that's all you can say."

I try not to laugh but I'm thoroughly enjoying seeing him slowly getting upset. I say dismissively, "Be glad I'm humoring you."

He sights heavily, as if he was trying to organize himself again. Then, he says contemptuously. "Have you slept with her?"

I smirk.

This was a wonderful opportunity to spite him. Just as I'm about to respond, I remember Ed saying how happy Faye is now. I shouldn't get involved anymore and just deny the question. But even then, I'm unable of answering definitively, "Does that matter now? She's with you after all."

"I need to know," Damian says in the tone that seems reserved for his commissioner duties.

"Ask her," I tell him.

"I did," he says bluntly. "And she said…'does that matter now? I'm with you after all'…Do you think I would ask you if she had answered me?"

I stop exercising. After a second, I begin stretching my arms. If what Damian says is true, I can't help but question why Faye answered in such a way. I wonder, why didn't she just tell him the truth?

I look at Damian. The way he's standing, his eyes, even the way the corners of his mouth are, makes it obvious that he's not lying. I look out the window and continue stretching.

"Did you sleep with her?" Damian asks again.

There must be a reason why Faye didn't deny it. I want to ruin whatever she was planning by telling him the truth. Except, rather than seeing her angry, I really want to see how Damian would react. I decide, if Faye isn't going to be sincere with him, neither will I.

"Yes," I lie without hesitation.

I enjoy seeing him as he looses his self-control, even if he is able to somewhat recuperate quickly. Though he appears calm, I can see his eyebrows straining to remain relaxed. "Then, when was the last time?" he asks. When I don't answer he repeats himself forcefully.

I tell him, "You said one question." I pick up my workout towel and wipe the sweat off of my face and neck. Then, I begin walking away, "I've already answered it, so…"

I go into the bathroom and start up the shower. As I let the water run to get warm, I begin undressing. The sweat has made my shirt cling to my skin, so getting rid of it feels great. The air cools down my skin quickly. My muscles are tired, but all the exercise managed to loosen the tension that was there before. I step into the shower and let the water pound against my back. Somehow, I feel very relaxed.

Afterwards, I lock myself inside my room again. Having wasted all the energy I had, I feel very tired and end up falling asleep. I don't dream of anything and I wake up at around eleven. Since I didn't have breakfast, I can feel the acid burning in the pit of my stomach. But, though it's eleven, I can still hear Faye's voice from afar. I control my hunger and decide not to leave my room just yet; I wait until I'm certain Faye and Damian won't be here anymore.

When I finally step out, the ship is very quiet and the only noise is coming from the kitchen. As I walk closer, I can smell the scent of broiling beef and freshly sliced peppers. I sit down at the table and start picking at some of the dishes that Jet's already finished.

Just by being awake, my mind is driving me insane. Even eating isn't distracting me enough. When I think I'll finally be able to stop thinking, Jet says distantly, "Maybe we should have them come over more often. It seems to make Ed happy."

"It doesn't," I tell him thoughtlessly. He turns away from the stove to face me. Although he's looking at me, I don't bother to look back. I say calmly, "She still doesn't like him. She's just being that way because of Faye."

"But at least she gets to see her," then he stops speaking and sits on the table across from me. "…Does it bother you to see Faye like that?"

I stay silent. If I don't say anything, the thoughts won't come back. If I don't answer him, I won't have to deal with knowing that there's something about me I don't understand.

But Jet keeps pushing it. He sees me glancing at him and then says, "If it doesn't, I don't see why they wouldn't be able to stay here again…So, does it?"

I decide to go along with him instead of making things more difficult. I answer, "Sure."

Except, I feel that as the words leave my lips, something inside of me breaks. All the things I'd been trying to avoid, the feelings, the thoughts, they all flood my head. It's not supposed to be this way, but now I feel everything that I'd been so carefully suppressing.

For once, I sense as my rationale disappears and I'm covered with the feelings that I'd managed to keep under control. Then, I realize everything. I notice that I'm upset that Faye is so happy being with Damian. And that I'm jealous that she does things with him that she has never done with me. And I'm angry that she's become someone I don't want her to be. But above all, I feel like this should matter to her. That she should think about me.

As I'm drowning in and hating my newfound feelings, Jet's voice seems to echo faintly when he speaks, "Fine what?"

And as I remain in this odd state, I don't realize when I openly respond, "It does…It bothers me." I hear him chuckle lightly and suddenly I comprehend the extent of what I've just admitted. I look up at Jet and pretend that I'm at peace with what I've spoken and continue by saying, "I'm sure you know this, so just stop pretending that you don't."

Jet doesn't say anything else, but I can tell he's trying to hide his smile. After a second of hesitation, he lets a smirk come over his lips.

"What are you smiling so stupidly about?" I tell him bitterly, detesting him right now, knowing that he's been trying to get something like this out of me since the first time we spoke about Faye.

"It feels good to be right. I always thought you had a thing for her. But sometimes, I think you even fooled me because I would think that I was just imagining things."

With what I've already admitted, I feel worse as I say, "I don't have a thing for her."

I think Jet will continue to laugh at my idiocy, but he seems very sober about the situation. He speaks seriously and gently, as if he was trying to tell me it was okay to feel this way. "If you're going to admit that seeing her with someone else bothers you, wouldn't it be better if you just admit everything."

Even with him saying this, I feel very insecure; like I'm a stray cat under a park bench that he's trying to lure out. I lick my lips to take up time. If I admit it, would it change the situation? Will it make me feel any better?

"I…" I begin. But then, as I try to come to terms with everything, I realize something. "Does it matter. She's with Damian. So whether I–so it doesn't matter…"

Jet doesn't speak again and I don't try to continue explaining or denying anything else. We stay in silence listening to the sounds of the food cooking. A pot on the stove begins boiling over. Jet and I sit quietly even as the water topples over the top. Then, Jet finally rises and slowly begins cleaning up the mess.

I sit despondently, filing my thoughts into order again. I reach over to a plate of rice that Jet has served and take a piece between my fingers. I place it in my mouth and slowly crumble it into bits. I continue waiting for the rest of the meal to be finished while eating single pieces of rice. But even after we finish lunch, even after days pass, even after Faye and Damian celebrate their anniversary, I can't get rid of these thoughts and feelings anymore.

* * * Ch. 5 End, Continued on Ch. 6 * * *

Updates: Everything seems to be going well, the update should be next Friday.

About the titles: I really like this song. Since it's Japanese (and I don't know Japanese), I was afraid it wouldn't match well enough (content wise). But, in the end, I decided the song was close enough and way too cool to pass up.

Interesting fact: If I remember correctly, this is the first work that I've written where Spike 'comes to terms' with what he's feeling so early in the story. It provided quite a different view, so I'm glad I tried it out. Hopefully, it will be interesting for you too.

Reviews are encouraged. Laters!