Run
They are whispering
Never surrender.
Never give in
In flashes of lightning
You will shine
Do as you want
Do what you want
Faye stirred faintly as the dream floated just beneath the surface of consciousness. She was on an island awash in verdant green and turquoise, a steamy breeze washing in from the sea. She lay outstretched on a lounger in the suffocating heat, drenched from the neck down in the melon suntan oil that she had picked up that morning, with her eyes closed and a contented smile on her face. As she breathed in the salty aroma of sea air she could detect the faint smells of fish cooking from somewhere on the island.
Faye’s fingers curled slightly as she squirmed into a more comfortable position, and her dream faded slowly into present reality, in her room aboard the Bebop. As she became aware of a warm presence at her back, she groaned. Damn that Ein! How did he get in here? She wriggled backwards to nudge the mutt away.
“Get your ass out of my bed Ein!” she complained as she pushed harder. To her surprise, she did not hear a squeak but a deep grunt.
“What the-” she shot up to peer behind her. She nearly jumped out of her skin.
Definitely not Ein – too long, too large, and Ein certainly hadn’t sprouted messy green fur overnight. Spike was curled on his side facing her, his head sunk into the feather pillow – her feather pillow.
Faye nudged him. He grunted but didn’t move. She elbowed him in the chest. “Spike, wake up!”
He cracked open one eye and squinted at her, his mouth turned down into a pout. “Quit yapping, I’m trying to sleep.” He turned over and slammed the pillow over his head.
She stared at his back, her hand itching to move. “Spike, what are you doing in here?” she asked, suspicion bordering on disgust in her voice
“Looks to me like I’m tryin’ to sleep,” he mumbled from beneath the pillow.
“You can’t sleep in here. You have your own room.” She leaned over and pushed him towards the edge of the narrow bed. Gods, he was heavy.
Spike gripped the edge of the bed to keep from falling out as the pillow fell to the floor. “So you’re kicking a tired saved-your-ass bounty hunter who needs his sleep out of a warm, comfortable snooze-”
“Yes.” Faye responded through clenched teeth. Already the tension was setting in, washing away all the benefits that her peaceful dream had brought her. And it was entirely his fault.
“Aww, Faye, be a pal,” Spike shifted slowly, turning to squint up at her.
“Why are you here?” she asked harshly, eyes burning into his.
He stared back, refusing to break eye contact. “Don’t you remember?” he asked, smiling that insufferable smile that she despised.
Her glare faltered for just a second. Then in a flash she grabbed her pillow, mashing it into his face.
His survival instincts obviously kicked into gear because just as swiftly he had sprung up and grabbed her shoulders, slamming her against the bed.
“What are you doing, Faye?” he demanded. “Are you trying to kill me?” His eyes smoldered as he stared down at her.
She tensed and bent her leg to knee him where it would cause damage, but he stopped her, pinning her in place as he grabbed her arms. She struggled to free herself, but his angry grip was tight. Knowing that she could not best him on even on an ordinary day, much less when he was this angry, she let her body go limp and impassively gazed back at him, knowing how much he hated when she looked at him like that.
“I thought I’d help you achieve your desire to die,” she said innocently.
Spike scowled and released her, falling back against the bed. “Faye, go away. Leave me alone.”
“This is my room. You leave,” she said, watching him.
He stared up at her with hooded eyes. She tried not to squirm under his gaze, unable to read his mood, although she had a pretty good idea that he was pissed.
“Would you get out so that I can get dressed?” she asked vehemently, attempting to cover up his discomfort.
“Alright.” He sat up abruptly, swinging his legs to the floor. “Be a bitch.” He stalked to the door and slammed on the panel, not sparing her a second glance.
Faye watched his retreating figure, feeling a sense of defeat as she watched him walk away. It reminded her of another time he’d left, when she knew he wasn’t coming back. She wanted to be able to talk to him freely and honestly, but all she felt when he was near her, was vulnerable and unsure.
***
Spike stormed through the hallway and descended the stairs towards the couch. He grabbed the box of cigarettes from the table and sank down. y. He lit up and took a deep drag, exhaling smoke and some of his tension from dealing with Faye. His relief at finding her the evening before was tempered with a strange mix of anxiety and anger at her. Frustrated, he inhaled again. He wanted her to know that he was glad she was back, but any words that he thought to say felt awkward, and that angered him because he prided himself on his self-assured demeanor in all situations. Faye made him uncertain and he couldn’t figure out why. Thinking about her produced an uncomfortable feeling that rose up from the pit of his stomach. He didn’t want to acknowledge it, but deep down, he knew what it was.
He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice that Faye had come into the room. She stood at the top of the stairs, watching him silently. His eyes locked onto hers. He swallowed, the edginess returning as they stared at each other. Finally, she spoke.
“So, Spike …” she glared at him.
“So, Faye.” He glared back.
She sighed, coming down the stairs to join him on the couch.
“Got another one of those?” She refused to look at him, her eyes on the ceiling as she held out her hand and waited.
Spike stared at her momentarily, then he shot her an unguarded, spontaneous grin as he placed a cigarette in her hand.
