It was sooner than later. XD Here is chapter nine, please enjoy!

* * * Ch. 9 – SOMETHING ABOUT US (Daft Punk) * * *

Faye really left a mark.

I stare at the mirror, pulling down the collar of my shirt. There, at the very base of my neck is the dark spot that refuses to disappear. I tap it with my fingers. How much longer will it be before it fades away? Maybe I should do something about it.

I sigh and release the collar of my shirt.

I brush my teeth. Then, I turn the water on and let it run until it becomes warm. I wash my face and shave. Afterwards, I walk back to my room and change out of my sleeping clothes.

Somehow, everything has become so stagnant. Even though we continue to travel, the ship never seems to change location. The weather doesn't change. Even all of the food tastes the same. The day goes by without anything of importance occurring and night returns as if it had never left.

At dinner, we're all sitting around the kitchen table, eating quietly the last remains of food on our plates. Ed finishes first. She thanks Jet for the food and carries her dishes to the sink before hurrying out of the kitchen calling out Ein's name. I purposely finish second, rushing through the last bits, just to ensure I won't have to share a table with Faye. It's been three days since Pittman's hunt, and somehow I just can't stand being alone with her anymore.

I walk to my room and lay down on the bed while browsing through a ship care magazine. I fold the corners of pages from articles I find useful. Although it may be a while before we can cash the voucher for Pittman, I'm hoping that my cut will be enough to service and update my Swordfish. Afterwards, I pick up the book that's been sitting on my nightstand for over three months, the one that's been opened once and bookmarked on page thirteen. I read until page sixteen and fall asleep without realizing it.

When I wake up, it's barely turned eight at night. I sit up in bed and begin thinking of whatever time-consuming anything I can do to distract myself. I decide to look for Jet to ask how soon we'll be landing; maybe I'll be able to do something around town. As I walk through the corridors, I look out of a small window. To my surprise, we've already docked on shore. I rub the back of my neck, wondering when I became such a deep sleeper.

Maybe I'm just really tired. Or maybe it's my age…well…I know I'm not that old, but I'm still aging whether I want to admit it or not. I sigh and then I clear my mind by staring at the water. Watching it relaxes me, but it also reminds me that I'm thirsty. So, I head to the kitchen for something to drink.

While I'm walking through the living room, I notice Faye sleeping on the couch. Her body is indecently sprawled, like if she didn't even have enough energy to consider lying down properly. I pretend I don't notice her and walk to the kitchen. The dishes are all clean and sitting out to dry, I grab the same glass I'd used for dinner and fill it with water. I finish it quickly and then I refill the glass again. I stand over the sink, this time drinking the water slowly.

As I finish the last drink, I hear Faye saying from the living room. "I wish it would rain…" Since I can't tell whom she is speaking to, I decide not to answer. But then, she says, "Spike?"

I walk back into the living room to find her sitting up, clearing away her eyes. "Why would you want it to rain?" I say, "It's fine like this." Then, I spot my coat on the corner of the couch.

"But if it rained, I would feel the need to stay in bed. With it being like this, it makes me feel like I should get out…even if I have no idea where to…" She stops and watches me put on my coat. "Hey…you're going out aren't you?"

I answer shortly, "Yeah."

"Where to?"

"I don't know…" I say thoughtlessly, "I'll probably end up in a bar."

"If that's the case," she says standing up, "I'm coming too."

I don't look at her, "No."

Faye rolls her eyes. "I didn't ask for your permission," she responds crossly. "Besides, it's not like I'm going there to be with you. Jet told me you guys had been here before, so you must know where to find a good bar. I might as well take advantage of this. I don't care if as soon as we get there we pretend we don't know each other."

I try to get her to change her mind, but it's impossible. I give up after a few minutes since it's not necessarily that I mind her coming along. Rather, the problem is that I was hoping to be able to clear my head, and with her around, I'm not able to do so.

At least, during the walk there, Faye keeps her distance from me. No matter how crowded or empty the streets are she keeps walking about two steps away. She doesn't say anything either. And I wonder if she understands that when I go out for a drink what I'm really looking forward to is a quiet walk.

I stop in front of the familiar bar. I open the door and the smell of beer carries outside. Faye and I step inside. We stand by the door looking at the seating. The five stools on the counter are full. Of the seven tables, only two are empty. But they're right next to each other and one of them seats only two. I stare at the tables, deciding how awkward it would be to not sit together since of their proximity.

"Come in, come in," one of the people serving at the counter says. "It's a bit busy, so if you two aren't waiting for more company, would you mind taking the smaller table?"

"We're not toge—" Faye says.

But I interrupt her, "It's fine."

Between pretending to be strangers sitting next to each other on different tables or sitting together, I'm sure the latter will feel less uncomfortable. Somehow, I've gotten used to dealing with myself and my anxiousness around Faye on a day-to-day basis. Sitting together, if anything, it's ordinary.

So, I walk over to the smaller table and take a seat. Faye watches me for a second before doing the same. We don't say much. And we don't drink much either. We just sit there wasting time. From time to time, I can see some awkward glances shot our way. I guess because of our behavior, people think that we're mad at each other.

It doesn't take long for the empty table besides us to fill up. It's a group of four, from the looks of it, two couples. They're a rowdy, frisky bunch, but the whole place seems to have a level of activity befitting them. I sigh, remembering how quiet it had been the first time I came.

I should keep better track of time. I should have come earlier to avoid the Friday night rush. I'm sure if that had been the case, the place would've been just as quiet as the night I first came here.

Neither Faye nor I have finished our first drink. We had ordered the same thing. We're drinking it at the same rate. We're even making the same expressions while waiting for nothing.

Then, she moves out of cycle.

I glance at her. She takes her glass by the rim and slowly begins to rotate it over and over. She slides her fingers up and down the side of the glass, playing with the dew erupting from its surface. And then, she seems genuinely entertained as she begins to spread the cold water on her fingertips and traces out shapes and lines over the tabletop.

I don't catch myself, and I laugh.

She glares at me. I try to stop myself from smiling, but the drawings are still too prominent on the table. Suddenly, Faye dips her fingers into my glass. I try to pull my drink away, but it's too late and I just end up spilling some of it over the table. Faye smirks. Then, she writes quickly, 'idiot.'

I stare at the word for a second before using some of the liquor I'd spilled to force the characters to merge. But while I do that, Faye's already written it again. I look at her and say, "Seriously?"

"No," she says mockingly, "it's idiot." I pretend not to hear her and begin to trade our glasses since I'd spilled most of what was left in mine. "Hey! Don't do that!" she says grabbing my wrist. We stare firmly at each other while she tries to peel my fingers apart from the cold, damp glass.

"Spike?"

I turn away from Faye, simultaneously releasing her drink. I hear the ice colliding, the glass landing clumsily on the table, and her name easily escapes my lips, "Lillian."

Faye turns from Lillian to me, forgetting her glass in the middle of the table that's all splattered with whiskey drawings.

"This is surprising," Lillian says smiling warmly. "I didn't expect to see you around anymore."

"I didn't expect to come around either," I say.

Lillian laughs.

"And what about you?" I ask her, "You're in a bar again."

"I know!" she says embarrassed. "But I've gotten used to coming around here. I made good friends with the owner's wife. As it turns out, she's the instructor in my cooking class."

I shift a bit on the chair so that I can face her properly. But as I do, my hand slides over the whiskey on the tabletop. I glance at Faye and I notice the corners of her mouth jump a bit, as if she is trying to say, "isn't this nice?" But I can't tell whether there's any sarcasm to her expression.

"Ah," Lillian says towards Faye, "are you a bounty hunter too?"

"…yeah."

"Wow. I wish I could be daring enough to do that, but I like buying things for myself and I worry too much about not having enough money to do so. So, I can't stand being without a steady job." Then, Lillian blushes and says, "Sorry, I just barged in and interrupted." She turns to face me when she says, "I just wanted to at least say hi."

Faye answers courteously, "Don't worry. It's not often that someone actually wants to say hello to us. Right, Spike?" It's as if she's suddenly returned to the soft, well-mannered Faye that belongs next to Damian. Not the one that dips her fingers in my whiskey to write idiot on the table.

Lillian looks at the whiskey smears. She faces me and says, "Anyway, it was fun to see you here since I thought I wouldn't again. It's too bad you have company or a little reunion would've been fun."

"You mean because of me?" Faye says quickly, using a polite tone of voice that ticks me off. "I think you're misunderstanding something."

Lillian continues looking back and forth between the two of us. For a moment, my uneasiness at Faye's response prevents me from realizing Lillian's discomfort. But when I notice, I simply say, "The place was just short on space."

Again, Faye doesn't hesitate to confirm this. She says, "That's right, so there's nothing for you to feel embarrassed about."

I glance at the whiskey smears over the table. Some of the lines and shapes that Faye had drawn first have disappeared. But in the middle of the table, 'idiot' is prominently set. I stare at the word, smirking. Faye is right….I'm being an idiot for thinking she'll try to keep me sitting with her in the table that's so small our knees touch.

I rise from the chair unhesitantly. I look at Faye and say, "I'll go ahead and leave this spot open for you."

Lillian answers nervously, "You don't have to—"

"Hey Spike," Faye interrupts Lillian. She keeps her sight on the table. Then, she pulls both of the whiskey glasses towards her, pouring what's left of mine into her glass. "When will you be back?" she says coolly, "You know, Jet will ask."

"I don't know." I answer distantly, "I'll deal with that later…"

Faye shrugs her shoulders unconcernedly, still keeping her sight restrained within the small radius of the tabletop.

"Let's go," I say to Lillian. I head towards the door and she follows, walking uncertainly next to me.

She reaches for my hand and holds it as she asks, "Are you sure this is okay?"

"It's fine."

We walk outside and I ask Lillian if there's anywhere in particular she wants to go. She thinks about it for a second and says that anywhere except her house would be fine. She tells me that Mick is living there now and that she's renting out an apartment closer to the middle of town. We walk in silence for about a block.

I decide to ask her. "So, how are things with your husband?"

"Great! Or at least for my part."

"How's that?"

She covers her lips as she giggles mischievously. Then, she says, "You should have seen his reaction, it was wonderful! That morning after we'd spent the night, he came back home asking me to take him back. But he didn't knock or anything. He jut used his key to get in as if he'd never decided to leave me."

I pull a cigarette from my pocket and light it, "Really?"

"Yes," she smiles, "but since we stayed up until late, he woke me up and I was still sleeping in bed and I wasn't dressed or anything. And then, he found the saucer you'd used as an ashtray. But Mick knows I don't smoke, so he started freaking out, begging me to explain to him what had happened."

I take a drag and let the smoke dissipate before me. "Did you?"

She nods. "I told him I'd done the same thing he'd done. And he really took it badly. Probably worse then I did."

I laugh a little, "I nearly feel guilty."

"Don't," she assures me playfully. "The idiot is a hypocrite, saying he doesn't love me and then that he does. I applied for our divorce that same day as well, but he still won't sign the papers claiming he loves me." Lillian sighs. "Enough of that…So, Faye, is she really a bounty hunter too?"

I smoke a few times, before saying. "Yeah…She's worked with Jet and me for a long time. But over a year ago, she got into a serious relationship and went to live with her boyfriend. It's just been about five weeks since she came back." I stretch my neck before saying, "They had a fight or something…"

"Hey, Spike," she says mischievously.

"Hm?"

"This on your neck." She places her finger on the skin right above the collar of my shirt, "Is it from her?"

"Ah," I say touching the marked area, "You can see it?"

"A bit. When you stretched just now."

"She really…" I sigh, "It just won't go away."

Lillian laughs a little. "If you want, I can get rid of it for you…But…Spike…if you're with her in this kind of relationship, are you sure it's okay for you to be here."

I'm the one to laugh this time. "It's fine," I tell her. "This is really a lot more worthless that you could imagine."

She hugs my arm and rests her head on my shoulder as we walk. She says, "…that sounds…complicated."

"…Yeah," I respond shortly. I take a deep drag from my cigarette "…more than you think…"

"Spike…"

"…Hm?"

"Do you want to…call me…Faye tonight?"

I look at her quickly. And, although I hear what she's saying, her words don't seem to make sense. I can't decide weather I heard correctly or if my delusional mind is taking control of me. "…What?"

She doesn't repeat herself, but she says calmly, "I…really like the way you look at her. And for tonight, I'd like for you to look at me like that…because…you have feelings for her…right?"

I don't feel like I'm obligated to respond. But because of all she's told me about herself, I feel like I can reveal myself to her.

"…Yeah…"

As the word leaves me, I sense a lightness in my chest. Like I have gotten rid of something that keeps pulling me down. It's nearly the same feeling I had experienced when Jet had tried to get me to admit something. But it's stronger now, I guess because I'm not trying to hide anything under the premise that Faye is already with someone else.

"Then," Lillian says, "can we pretend that I'm her?" She smiles. I don't answer her. And then Lillian sighs. She begins, "The truth is…I'm not the type of person who can stand being single. So, I've been kind of lonely lately. But I'm so tired of relationships and I really don't want to deal with anyone right now…I don't want to feel alone, even if it's just pretend…Actually, I want to do this simply because I know it's make believe."

"I don't—"

But she persists, clinging to my arm a little tighter. "Don't you feel lonely right now? I'm so lonely I can't stand it. C'mon. It'll be fun." She places her finger on my neck again, "If this is nothing, then I'm guessing you guys actually haven't gotten very far, right? So, you can do with me what you wanted to do with her."

I laugh at myself. Mostly for even considering her offer.

Lillian notices and she casually loosens my tie. She says, "You must want to do some really perverted things."

"Isn't it you who's trying to provoke me again?"

"Yes," she answers easily. "But is it wrong if I want you to think that way?"

"…Not really."

"Good," she says gently hugging my arm. "Then tonight," she says softly, "can I be your Faye?"

I really want to refuse her. I want to answer her quickly with no. But I can't. The longer I think about it…I really hate to admit it but…"Okay."

She smiles and a sigh of relief escapes her lips. Her shoulders relax and she says playfully, "Aren't you going to call me Faye?"

I try to but I can't. I didn't expect it to be so hard. I didn't think a name was much of anything. I take a drag from my cigarette, trying to clear my throat so that I can get myself to say it. But even then, it takes me a while before I can answer her, "Okay, Faye."

Lillian giggles. "Like I thought, even your voice is different."

'That's not true' I lie to myself. Then, I tell her, "It's the awkwardness of calling you by a different name."

"What do you mean?" She says delicately turning my face towards her, "Tonight I'm her, so tonight my name is Faye."

I trace every feature of her face with my eyes. They are nothing alike. Lillian's eyebrows are softer and her eyes aren't as sharp. Her nose isn't as sharp and her lips are small and plump. Even the shade of her eyes is different; green, but lighter. Yet.

Somehow. They all remind me of Faye…I don't want to feel this. Still…I can't stop myself from wanting to believe that I really am with Faye. I hate myself for craving it. But I want her so much that I'm seriously this satisfied with pretending.

I kiss Lillian like I had kissed Faye the night we were in the desert. Or rather, I kiss her without having to control myself. I kiss her like I wish I had kissed Faye—I kiss her as if I were kissing Faye. Because. She's the Faye I'll never have…

The next day, when I arrive at the Bebop, it's already nine in the morning. I try to come in quietly so that I can go to bed without being bothered by anyone. But my plan fails. As I walk in, I see Jet working on a vent of the hallway. He glances at me before placing the vent in place. I walk past him. But he calls my name.

When he speaks, it's not anger or even annoyance. He simply states, "Faye came back alone. Really pissed off…" He finally looks at me, "Did you do something?"

I consider my words carefully, "I didn't do anything to upset her."

Jet stands up, stretching his back. He says, still using a relaxed tone, "Then what did you do? Coming back like this, it must have been something." He smirks, "Hell, I even thought you had died."

I ignore his attempt at humor and respond, "I was with someone."

"Was it that woman you saw last time we were here?"

I say, "Not exactly."

"Not exactly?" Jet asks puzzled.

"It's nothing really," I answer honestly.

Jet takes a minute to think. Even though he still seems to be considering the situation he says, "And you left Faye for something like that?"

I want to tell him that, in a twisted way, I had been with Faye all night. But I'm sure no one but Lillian and I could understand the reason why we did something like that. Instead, I just say, "Yeah…" I feel like I need to justify myself further, so I say, "But…it's not like Faye can't take care of herself."

"What is it with you," Jet tells me quickly, "hadn't you finally admitted it to yourself?"

"I know!" I answer, for the first time revealing just a fraction of my frustration. Jet stares at me. I shift my glance away from him, surprised at my own, nearly insignificant outburst. I calm down as I fill the silence by saying, "But I also know it doesn't matter anymore…never did…" But my control slips again, "She's so fucking obsessed with Damian."

Jet lets my words hang in the air. Then, he says, "So you're just giving up?"

I smirk. "Was I ever trying anything?"

He scratches his jaw twice and says, "But Spike…she was really upset."

"I know…" I tell him calmly. "But it's not that she's upset because of what I did…I think that she's just too damn mad at Damian and I'm the one having to put up with it."

"What makes you think that?"

A lot of things did. Except I hadn't noticed them until I had used Lillian as Faye's substitute. I didn't really understand before…But, as I walked to the Bebop that morning, when I realized that I would have to face the real Faye again, things finally made sense. And it all basically comes down to the fact that Faye is angry with Damian. The only way she can get back at him is through me. When there are times that she misses him too much, she pretends that I am that bastard she loves.

But I don't tell Jet any of this. Instead, I say, "She's developed this bad habit." I laugh quietly, "I think I'm being used."

"…that purple thing on your neck?" Jet asks.

"It's nothing…she did it only to make Damian jealous. Or like, whenever I went to meet her at the park, she called me because she couldn't ask for Damian to go find her…Everything she's doing…it's just because of him."

"Well, I wouldn't know." He says, "But if that's how things are, then…"

He doesn't finish saying anything. Instead, we both continue making our way into the ship. Jet mentions something about Ed's birthday, but I'm too distracted to care much. He notices and leaves me as he makes his way into the engine room. I walk slowly, trying to decide if there is something that I should do. I hear my stomach growling and decide to find something to eat before going to bed.

As I walk into the kitchen, I see Faye standing next to the coffee pot. I remember Lillian. And I feel guilty, so much so that I can't even look at her. Then, I remember that I'm Faye's Lillian. And every insecurity disappears.

I walk to the cupboard and pick up a mug, then wait for Faye to finish pouring her cup of coffee. She moves aside when she's finished, not even willing to face me. I had expected this already, and I don't care at all. But as I finish pouring my coffee, I see her struggling with the sugar.

Faye is holding the spoon over her cup, slowly letting the grains of sugar pour into it. Then, even as the sugar reaches the brim, she lets it continue falling onto the spoon. When the sugar is built up too high, it cascades into the coffee. But it's too late by the time Faye realizes. As she attempts to keep too much sugar from falling into the cup, she ends up dropping both the spoon and the sugar on the counter.

I glimpse at the sugar spread on the countertop. I glance at Faye and she's staring blankly at the mess. Her expression elicits me to say, "What's wrong with you?"

She blinks and answers hastily, "Nothing."

"I can tell you're lying," I say, walking away from the counter.

I don't insist on having her tell me anything. Rather, I continue looking for something that I could eat. I look through the pantry and find a danish. I pick it up considering whether it would qualify as breakfast. Faye doesn't move away from the counter. For a few seconds, the only noise in the room is the evaporating and dripping water of the coffee maker. I stand up, unwrapping the pastry, having decided that as long as I wasn't hungry anymore, it would be fine.

I sit at the table. When I take a bite from the danish, Faye finally begins to clean up the mess on the counter. Since she can't stand coffee unless it has just the right amount of sugar, she ends up pouring her first cup down the drain. By the time she's pouring her second cup, I'm already finished with the pastry and coffee.

She's about to turn the coffee machine off. "Wait." I rise from the table, "I want more."

While I'm refilling my cup, Faye pours out exactly one spoonful of sugar. She submerges the spoon into her coffee, mixing it in carefully. I begin to walk out of the kitchen. I hear the spoon rattling in Faye's cup just as she says, " I heard. Just now. I heard what you said about me"—she corrects herself quickly—"about Damian."

I try to speak. But I can't. I swallow to clear my throat. But it doesn't work. I take a drink from my coffee. It's plain black and bitter. "…Liar," I find myself answering. "So, what else did you hear?"

She pulls the spoon away from her cup and places it in the sink. It doesn't surprise me when says, "Nothing else."

I smirk, "Bullshit…You hear only what you want to hear."

"So what!" Faye tells me angrily. "So what if that's what I want to do? If you had—Now, anything else I heard doesn't matter."

I'm not angry or disappointed. I'm feeling exactly as I had expected. It's not a foreign sensation anymore; it's simply the feeling of being lonely. "…You're right," I say to her confidently, "It's nothing anyway."

But it feels like that's not all that needs to be said. So we stand in the middle of the kitchen, drinking coffee and awkwardly shifting glances.

"I hate this…" Faye says quietly, "I forget that we're both like this. I hear what I want to hear. You see what you want to see. I say what I want to say. And you do what you want to do."

"Something about us…" I begin. "When you put it that way…there's something seriously wrong."

"Isn't there?" Faye responds laughing nervously. Suddenly, her sight stops on my neck. I follow her gaze, realizing the collar of my shirt is open. She says, "…it's gone."

"Yeah…You use the back of a cold spoon."

Then somehow, we end up at the deck of the ship, sitting on the edge with our feet hovering high above the water. At some point, everything that had happened seems to be extraneous. Because now, we're acting as if we're still drinking our coffee; even if it's gotten cold and it's just been sitting there. We're pretending that nothing was ever said in the kitchen…because when it comes to our situation, there's nothing else that can or should be said. Things are what they are now and there is nothing that I can do about it. And Faye has other things to concern herself with.

"…I made up with Damian two days ago," she tells me.

"That's good," I answer truthfully. "I was getting tired of having you bother me with it."

Still, I really feel like smoking. I dig through my pockets, but, to my displeasure, I can't find my cigarettes. I sigh, realizing that I must have forgotten them at the hotel…maybe on the bed stand in Lillian's side of the bed.

Faye sighs. "I told him about the night of Pittman's hunt…He got upset. But when he's like that…I feel…" She struggles to finish her sentence and clears her bangs from her eyes. She assumes I already know what she's going to say and continues jokingly, "I guess, more or less, getting back at him actually worked…"

"That's nice," I say shortly, making sure that the tone of my voice is unreadable. I stare at the water waving before us. I don't want to look at her. And I don't need to either. Just by the tone of her voice, I know that she's smiling.

"He apologized a lot." Faye says, "He's not very good at it, but…it's kind of cute."

I impulsively face her, "Don't be gross."

She exhales heavily, "At times like this, I really wish you were a woman."

"Now you're just being ridiculous."

"But think about it," she insists. "If that had been the case. Who knows, we might have actually become really close friends."

I look back at the water, biting my tongue to keep myself from saying useless things. Because it has already come down to this. For Faye, our current state has become something that she can joke about so quickly. It's become something that doesn't matter. The things I feel. They're nothing. And if they exist, it's for the sake of a joke.

"That sounds boring," I say slowly, involuntarily yawning. "…guess I'm tired. I'm going to bed…" I rise up from the deck and begin walking away. Before I'm too far, and because it's irrelevant now, I decide to say one more thing. "By the way," I begin, "if that had been the case. That I had been born a woman I mean. What makes you think we wouldn't have become lesbian lovers instead?"

Faye turns around, wearing an incredulous face as says, "Shut up!" Then, she's serious again as she finishes, "Just go to bed already…And take a shower or something."

"I showered this morning," I respond, still walking.

"I know," she says turning away. "You stink like hotel soap."

That's the last I hear of her. I don't realize how much I actually sleep and by the time I wake up we're already in Mars. When I don't see Faye around for dinner, and because Ed doesn't seem to be bringing it up any time soon, I ask Jet where she went. He tells me that she's already moved back with Damian.

He says, "She thought you'd get mad for waking you up."

"She's probably right," I tell Jet and continue eating.

Without Faye, the days pass slowly again. It doesn't help that every minute of the day, Ed continuously reminds me of how many days are left before her birthday; of how many days are left before Faye comes back to visit us again. I don't last very long just listening to this.

Even though I know very clearly that nothing will come out of seeing Faye again, I am, inevitably, affected. After only two days have passed, I decide to submerge myself in work. I don't complicate myself with handpicking bounties; I just take whatever case I can get. It's mostly small, easy things. But in my situation, being able to do multiple hunts forces my mind to continuously switch gears and prevents me from thinking too much about seeing her again.

Time goes by much faster this way. So, even on the day of Ed's birthday, I continue working. As I'm about to leave the Bebop for another hunt, Jet calls out to me. He tells me that Faye is going to come back for dinner at around six. I say to him that I'll try to be back in time to eat, but that if I'm not, to at least save me something.

The hunt turns out to be just as hard as I had expected. By the time I have collected my reward, it's seven thirty. But on my way back to the Bebop, somehow, I can't find a way to force myself to return.

I don't debate my reasoning. I don't feel like going back, so I won't. I'll do whatever it is that I want to do.

So instead of returning to the Bebop, I spend the evening sitting in a park bench and smoking the few cigarettes that I have left. I don't remember when was the last time that I was this relaxed. My thoughts may be killing me, but in the end, there is nothing I can do about them anymore, so it doesn't matter. And I can just sit here and do nothing but watch others while time passes me slowly.

After getting bored of watching the same types of people passing by, I decide that I don't feel like being outside anymore. I stand up from the bench and begin walking to the Bebop. I make a stop at a convenience store; but it still takes me only thirty minutes to get home. By the time I'm back, it's already eleven.

When I walk into the living room, no one is there and I don't see anything out of place. And somehow, I'm able to breathe easily. I dig into my pocket and pull out a box of mints shaped like strawberries. I sit it down next to Ed's computer and head to the kitchen. As I walk there, Ein comes to greet me. I try to get him to leave, but he follows after me, I presume, hungry.

I look inside the fridge and find a strawberry shortcake. Or at least, a quarter of one. I sight. If I had known Faye had decided on this, I would have gotten the pineapple shaped mints. Just then, Ein pushes his way through the gap between my legs and the fridge door. He looks up at me like if he were smiling.

"Go away," I tell him, "I don't like dogs."

He stares at me for a second and then gives a step back. He looks around for a while. Then, he walks underneath the table and lies down. He crosses his paws and lets his head rest.

I watch him breathe deeply, then, I continue looking for food. Behind the cake, I spot a plate that's wrapped in foil paper. I move the cake out of the way and uncover a corner of the plate. I check to see what it is, pull it out of the fridge, and place it to heat in the microwave all in one fluid, nearly automatic motion. While the food is heating, I pour myself something to drink. Then, I wait next to the microwave until my food is ready.

I sit down at the table and begin to eat. After a couple of bites, I feel Ein pawing my leg. I look down at him. He stares back, with his mouth hanging a bit open. I shake him off and continue eating. But he does it again.

I pick up a slice of meat from my plate, "This is what you want isn't it?" Ein's eyes glow with happiness. I let the small piece of meat fall to the ground. He picks it up quickly and begins chewing. "Damn dog…you have it too easy." He tilts his head. I sigh. "I can't believe I'm so pathetic that I'm talking to you." I laugh at myself, knowing that I had already done many other pitiable things.

Ein finishes chewing the piece of meat. He licks his mouth then stares at me again, sitting at a respectable distance. He looks much too happy to have finished eating something that, because of my thoughts, I can't even taste. He angles his head to the left. I pick up another piece of meat and let it fall between his paws.

"A dog's life…I wonder if that really isn't better."

I watch him finish eating the piece of meat before I continue with my meal. After a few minutes, Ein is still sitting besides me, looking at me with big, begging eyes. Because of that, and because he seems to be enjoying it much more than I could, I decide to continue feeding him from my plate. By the time my meal is finished, it feels like I've given him half of it.

I clear the table and walk out of the kitchen. Ein doesn't follow me anymore. He stays behind, curled up underneath the table. I look back at him and he lazily lifts his head before crossing his paws and closing his eyes.

"…you're just like Faye…" I say offhandedly.

I don't notice Jet coming in until he asks, "Who is?"

"Who is what?"

Jet sighs, "Forget it…How long have you been here anyway?"

"A little while." I lie, "The hunt ended up being much more bothersome than I expected."

"Is that so?" he says. "Then, rest well. I came because I heard someone and I thought that maybe Faye had forgotten something."

"Why's that?"

"She stayed longer than she planned and had to leave in a rush to meet Damian afterwards."

"So she came alone?"

"Yeah, just her…" He looks down and seems to struggle before saying, "She asked about you…You should call her and see if it's anything important."

"I don't have the time."

"What do you mean you don't have the time? You were talking to Ein just now." Then, Jet finishes as he steps out of the room, "Rather than talking to a dog, give her a call instead."

At the time, I dismiss the idea immediately. But as soon as I enter my room, I become conscious of how quiet it is. I realize that I'm cold. And before I'm aware of what I'm doing, I've already dialed her phone number.

As soon as it rings, I notice that it's nearly midnight. I'm about to end the call, but I hear her respond just as my thumb hovers over the end call button.

"Spike," she repeats.

"Yeah." I forget why I called and I have to force myself to remember. I say, "Jet said you asked for me, did you want something?"

"What—No." She answers, "I…just wanted to know if you'd been able to cash in Pittman's voucher."

"No…Not yet."

"Oh."

"I haven't," I begin quickly, but slow down as I finish, "heard anything from the department yet."

After a short delay, Faye asks, "You haven't?"

"No," I answer. "But I'll let you know when I do." She doesn't say anything else. I sit down on the edge of my bed and decide to continue, "Are you worried I'll take your share?"

"…No."

"You're not?"

"No. I just wanted to ask and check."

"Why? Is your debt still growing?"

"You would enjoy that wouldn't you?" she says bitterly. I hear her sigh and she says happily, "Damian hired some lawyers that were able to get most of it annulled."

I hesitate before speaking, "…That must be nice. But how did he manage to do something like that?"

"Because of the cryogenics," she says. "Apparently, you can claim some sort of plea saying you weren't aware of how things worked when you woke up. I guess it works something like the insanity plea, were you aren't fully aware of what it is you're getting yourself into."

"That reminds me…I called without noticing how late it was. I guess I've given him another reason to dislike me."

Faye laughs, "You wish. After we came back tonight, he was called out and isn't back yet."

"Then should I call even later next time?"

"Next time?"

"Ah, nevermind," I say, realizing how tired I really am. "I was going to make a joke about it but I don't feel like it anymore."

Faye laughs again, mocking me. "Idiot."

"It's your fault," I tell her shortly.

"Why is it my fault!"

"Because after seriously thinking about it, it seems we only call each other this late. Just…remember the times you've called me recently?"

After a few seconds of silence she finally says, "…I guess…we should stop doing that."

"It's you who starts it."

"Don't blame me for everything," she says defensively.

"Then," I begin, "next time you ask for me, say if you actually need something. Otherwise, I feel forced to check."

"You don't have to," she says quietly.

Catching the change in her voice, I realize my mistake. I rub my eyes in annoyance. I'm tired. Otherwise, I wouldn't reveal something like that to her, specially not now that she's dismissed me. "I know, but it's not like I'm doing it out of free will," I begin covering for my mistake. "You're in trouble so much that Jet and Ed will kill me if I don't do anything about it."

Faye laughs nervously, "I'll try to remember, but it sounds much more fun to see what Jet and Ed will do to you."

Hearing her response, I continue jokingly, "Hey, Faye… The truth is that you want me to call you, right?"

"As if," she responds. "Why would I need you to call me?"

"I don't know…" I say lazily, "but I'm pretty sure I there's a reason…"

"Like what?" she says challengingly.

I'm too tired to think. So I say the first thing that's on my mind. "Uhh…You're lonely."

Faye answers quickly and defensively. "I'm not."

Suddenly, even if Faye and I are not in the same room, I can feel the air tense around me. I feel her discomfort and, aware that I shouldn't say so, I tell her lightly, "If I were you, I would be."

Or rather. I am. I am the one who's lonely.

But it seems to work. She sighs and calmly says, "Well, I'm not. Damian will be back soon so there's no need for me to feel lonely."

That's right, for a second I forgot that Damian is the man whose company Faye likes best.

I exhale quietly, trying to rid myself of the depressive thoughts arising in me. I feel defeated and I'm out of things to say so I tell her, "And I guess he should be back soon…Then, since you didn't need anything…"

"…Right…" Faye says slowly.

"I'm hanging up."

"Good Ni—" I hear, cutting Faye off short by ending the call.

I turn my communicator off and throw it on top of the bedside table. I pull off my tie and clumsily take off my shoes. I begin to unbutton my shirt but I don't feel like doing anything, not even changing into my sleeping clothes. I let myself fall sloppily over the bed. I look at the light above my bed thinking I should turn it off. I try to lift myself from the bed but I can't. The more I wait to get up, the more it seems worthless to attempt moving at all. The light can stay on. I don't care anymore.

* * * Ch. 9 End, Continued on Ch. 10 * * *

About this chapter: This is the last chapter that I had written before I started posting the story on fanfiction. I will be very busy for a few weeks, so I may not be able to write the next chapter very soon.

Please don't forget about this story and be patient until the next update!

I hope to keep hearing from you!