Bad: Chapter 18
"I will run for shelter
Endless summer lift the curse
It feels like nothing matters
In our private universe"
- Crowded House
Edward woke in the morning and her thoughts went immediately to the ravens asleep in their nest.
A hazy mist had crept into their sanctuary, the sun glinting off every tiny droplet hanging in the air as the morning blue turned into a tender gold. She lay quietly clutching Ein, his coat smooth yet coarse under her hands, watching the sleeping birds, their beaks tucked down into their glossy black feathers.
Birds were time-markers for Edward. Over the course of her travels, the inescapable sound of nature was her constant companion. Of all the sounds that could be heard in the wilderness, it was the sweet, high tones of the birds calling over the treetops that she remembered most. Each breed marked a time and place that she had once been, each song taking her back.
Kookaburras laughed. She'd first come across one in a dry, wooded area that proved as a welcome shelter from the late afternoon sun, and when its laugh cut shrilly through the silence of the desolate outback she was startled, at first mistaking it for a human laugh. She lowered herself to sit Indian-style in the brush—the aroma of soft, arid soil and foliage making her feel drowsy—and turned her head to the sky, listening intently for the return of the sound.
Her heart began to sink as she waited, her curiosity disappointed, alone once again.
She deliberated for a moment before letting out an uproarious, mirthful shriek, and soon found, much to her delight, that the bird had joined in. Its cackle only served to amplify her amusement, and moments later she was rolling in the dirt, hysteria having taken hold.
She spent the rest of the afternoon dancing through the forest, talking to the regal-looking black and white creature, shouting and singing and laughing. That night, she lay on her stomach in front of her Tomato, a campfire burning bright, looking happily at pictures of the tiny birds until she fell asleep. She decided that she was not a girl, she would have liked to be a Kookaburra.
A few days later, she spied over a garden fence a mother sitting out on her back porch, bouncing a toddler on her lap, singing cheerfully.
"Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree
Merry, merry king of the bush is he
Laugh, Kookaburra
Laugh, Kookaburra
Gay your life must be"
She looked on, the infant giggling in ecstasy, the mother holding her child with such love and joy.
Certainly it was better to be a bird than a girl.
"Do it."
Spike closely watched the tense exchange between Jet and Faye. His mouth opened to speak, but he said nothing, feeling completely dumbstruck.
On one hand, it was clear Jet was feeling very ambivalent and Spike respected his reticence. Jet was a man of great emotional depth, and his hesitation signaled to Spike that this matter was perhaps far more morally troublesome than either he or Faye, both so nonchalant in their selfishness, could truly grasp. On the other hand, this was the goal they had been devoting all of their energies toward, and it was the key to open all the gates that were now shut.
Faye had been coolly cunning in the pursuit of their plan thus far, but she was beginning to show signs of desperation, and Spike feared what might come of it.
Jet turned away from Faye's intent gaze, visibly defeated, and began to type slowly, forcing out the notes on the page.
Spike pushed himself up from the chair and came to stand behind Jet, in some way hoping that nothing at all would come of this, that they would find some way to live through this as they were meant to, allowing things to unfold with ordinary inevitability.
He watched as Jet tensely plodded through the notes, making the normally happy and upbeat song sound slow and weary.
His eyes turned to Faye. She was leaning forward, one hand on the back of the couch, her face grave. He saw the tiny shifts of emotion in her features, all of which read to him as some variation of fear or disappointment. On her back, there was a sliver of skin showing between where her jeans ended and her t-shirt began, and he wanted to touch her.
He had the urge to walk out the door and leave this all behind here and now. Abstractly, he felt certain there would be little objection to this, and it was as good a time as any. As if to test his theory, he took a few steps toward the door.
"Where are you going?" Her eyes bore into him angrily.
"Nowhere," he said, leaning into the door frame. He swore he heard her mutter the word 'chickenshit' under her breath.
The melody wound to a close, Jet's hands dropping from the keyboard.
A full five seconds of silence passed with no sign of anything at all.
Jet's deep voice came first, and Spike felt as though he hadn't heard it in years.
"Maybe I—"
In an instant, the whole computer screen began to swirl in on itself, the pixels twisting out of control until the shape of a cylinder emerged. They were soon staring into a tunnel that was churning violently, pulling all three of them in.
Spike didn't even realize he had moved back across the room until he felt Faye's hand grip his bicep. As if in a dream, his chin rotated toward her and he saw she was holding her other hand over her mouth breathlessly. Her grip on him loosened and her hand began to fall away, but he caught it in his own, squeezing it tightly and pulling it up toward his chest, feeling if he let go, she might disappear into the vortex of the screen.
The trio stood mesmerized by the surreal turn of events, but their collective cynicism was not enough to hold them there for long.
Faye jerked away from Spike who was immediately embarrassed by his impulsive, uninhibited behavior.
"What the hell is this? I don't understand."
Her voiced was bordering on frenzy as she rounded the sofa, pointing at the screen.
Jet was stupefied, his words falling from his mouth without much coherence. "Must be, like uh, a communication portal of some kind."
"You're telling me you've see a communication portal like that?" Her eyes flashed like vibrant shards of broken emerald. It was enough to snap Jet out of his trance.
"No. But she's a hacker. How the hell am I supposed to know what the fuck this thing is?!"
He stood as menacingly as a man of his ethics and virtue would allow. For Faye, it was hardly intimidating at all.
Spike frowned. He now had a good grasp on what it was like to live Jet's life. He rolled his eyes, reluctant to take on a role he was so ill-suited for.
"Calm down, goddamnit."
Faye cast her eyes toward her new target. She squared her jaw and rolled her eyes, a flurry of accusations beginning to take form on her lips. He caught her eye for a moment, and gave her his version of a pleading look. She exhaled forcefully, her mouth closing, and instead simply shook her head in disbelief.
He would have thanked her if it would not have incited a new fit of ire.
"Look, just let this thing run its course. I'll stay here. You two go cool off."
"I'll stay."
Jet and Spike traded knowing glances. Jet wanted to be here if and when Edward did appear. He wanted to be the first one to see her, to explain why they needed her help. Spike didn't think Jet would ever know just how much he respected him. Instead of telling him, Spike simply nodded and said okay.
Faye stood silently, one hand on her hip, looking down at the floor, clearly still feeling indignant but also guilty. Her behavior was worthy of reproach and she knew it. She threw back her shoulders as if shrugging off all that had just transpired and moved to leave, brushing past Spike.
"I'll go get some food."
Jet rubbed his face ponderously, knowing her clipped tone was a preview of a future outburst. Spike held up his hand, his indication that he would take care of the problem, and turned on heel to follow.
Faye was standing in the hangar pulling on her leather gloves when Spike stepped around the Redtail.
"What do you want, Spike?"
"I know this is important to you, but you shouldn't blame Jet if it doesn't go the way you planned. He's just trying to help."
"Then I suppose I should blame you instead?"
He smiled humorlessly, his lips pursed.
"What shitty, horrible thing have I done to piss you off now?"
She looked sideways at him through the fringe of her bangs.
"Don't ever do that again."
"Do what?" he asked, genuinely ignorant of his misdeed.
"You know what."
He shrugged his shoulders and frowned animatedly, his hand dug in his pockets, shaking his head.
She rolled her eyes. "Okay, whatever."
She moved to open the door to her ship. He reached out to stop her, his fingers brushing hers where they gripped the opened hatch. The contact lasted barely a millisecond before she snatched her handed away, just as she had done earlier.
"Oh, that."
"Yeah, that."
"You know, I seem to remember your trembling feminine fingers gripping my hard, manly bicep first."
She couldn't help but let the corners of her mouth creep up slightly, realizing the absurdity of her anger as she looked down at the floor. He smiled slightly too as he watched her, glad that she was able to appreciate his attempt at levity.
"I'm just not used to that."
"There's nothing to get used to. Won't happen again."
She nodded resolutely.
"Unless you wanted it to."
"Spike…"
For the last twenty-four hours Spike had hardly been able to think of anything else—which, in turn, had led him to the realization that for the last few weeks he had hardly been able to think of anything else. As far as he was concerned, after yesterday, he had made her his and no one else's. If it sounded Cro-Magnon of him, well, he couldn't say different.
"It's just an open offer. Nothing more, nothing less."
"I thought we agreed that was a bad idea," she stated coyly, crossing her arms.
"When have you ever known me to do the smart thing?" he asked, flicking up one of his eyebrows for dramatic emphasis.
"I think you should know," she looked up at him, breathing coolly. "Regardless of what happens with Edward, I'm planning on going away for awhile. It won't be until after all this bullshit settles, but after that, I'm going."
"For awhile?"
"For a long while."
"All the more reason then, right?" he stated slickly, stepping in closer.
Even he was surprised at how quickly his wit responded.
Perhaps it was that Faye's presence was never a guarantee at any point in the whole time that he had known her, or perhaps it was because he had a knack for performing his greatest feats in the moments when circumstances were their most bleak. Had her confession been anything less alarming, he may have been equally less convincing.
She wanted to object, wanted to point out that since she was leaving there was no point in getting attached, but his flippant response extinguished her concern. Maybe there was no risk in that for him at all.
A tear threatened to creep out of her eye, so she turned away quickly, climbing into her ship.
"I'll think about it."
And with that she pulled the hatch closed after her.
Spike walked toward the control panel on the wall and pressed the button to open the loading gate, watching as the dark, dusty hangar slowly filled with light. He stepped out onto the deck, allowing Faye room to start her engine. He followed her progress as she hovered and guided her zipcraft out of the door, all the while feeling as if someone had just punched him in the gut. He could see her through the glass of the control pod as she emerged, but she did not turn to look at him before tearing away into the afternoon sky.
AN: My apologies for the slowing of my tempo. Edward is very difficult to write. The first half of this chapter took me weeks whereas the second part took me only a few hours. Anyhow, onward and upward.
