Too Many Secrets 5/?

Stubborn

The band was finishing up the last set, and Grace had just delivered the last round of drinks to their table. Faye was quite adept at observing and imitating people, and Spike was smashed enough to enjoy her antics. The Glowing Sun attracted a rough crowd, and had Faye been there alone or with anyone else other than Spike, her behavior would not have been tolerated. But everyone in this neighborhood knew who Spike was and what he did. Luckily for Faye, no one who valued life wanted to be caught on his bad side.

After the two of them had finished the sixth round of drinks, it was like old times, where both tried to be more sarcastically witty than the other. It was a drinking game that they had often played on the ship, after Jet had retired to his room and Ed was crashed out somewhere within the ship, using Ein as her pillow. Faye's words had started to slur two or three drinks ago, even though she had insisted that he was more smashed than her. Finally, Spike finished off his last glass and stood up, holding on to the edge of the table.

"Come on," he said, pulling on her arm. "Time to go."

"Hold your horses," she snapped. "I'm not finished yet."

"I think you are," he said teasingly. "Drink up and let's go."

Faye polished off her glass then she tried to stand, holding on to both the table and Spike.

"You alright? You look a little pale."

"No, as a matter of fact, I'm not alright. I am plastered," she said, eyeing the empty glass with sudden loathing, "and if I don't get some fresh air in about ten seconds, I'm going to throw up in your lap."

Spike grinned. Faye thought he looked a little amused or worried, or maybe a little of both. "I wouldn't really throw up on you, you know," she protested as he put his hand under her arm to help her stand. She rose to her feet.

"Where're we going?"

"Home."

* * *

Spike pulled out a ring of keys from his jacket and unlocked the door to the apartment. He stood aside and wordlessly beckoned for Faye to step inside. He locked the door behind them and led Faye into the kitchen, just to the right of the apartment entrance. He set the keys down on the kitchen table and draped his jacket over one of the chairs.

"I'm going to go take a shower," he told her as he headed down the hallway to the bathroom. Midway to his destination, he stopped and looked over his shoulder at her.

"Don't go nosing around, Faye. I'll be right back." He disappeared down the hall.

Faye stuck out her tongue at him, and then giggled to herself at her own childishness.

Hmmph, still thinks he's mister high and mighty. But … when someone tells you not to do something…

She walked into the living room and wrinkled her nose in distaste as she looked around. The walls were the washed-out hue of a sky just before the rain and were completely bare except for a light switch that controlled the overhead light. A worn brown sofa sat in the middle of the room with an armchair beside it and a coffee table in front, containing a disgustingly full ashtray and a dog-eared paperback lying open and face down.

Definitely a guy's place, she thought.

She wondered if she were the first female to set foot inside of Spike's apartment. The possibility that Spike would allow any other woman access to his private domain bothered her more than she wanted to admit.

Faye thought she knew him better than any other woman, except maybe for Julia who was no longer around, so she didn't really count. When they had been shipmates, he'd been comfortable enough around her to lounge about wearing those tacky orange boxers, and she had discovered a few other disgusting habits of his when she'd lived with him.

She picked up the book to see the title: Walking on the Moon. She recalled seeing him reading that book once on the Bebop. As she thought about it, she had never actually seen him read the book; he would use it to cover his face and spy on her while pretending to be asleep. So maybe he does know how to read, she thought maliciously. She switched the pages around and placed the book back on the coffee table, smiling to herself.

She wandered restlessly into the kitchen. She could see evidence of takeout on the countertop, where several plastic forks and chopsticks were lined up neatly. The chopsticks reminded her that she hadn't eaten since leaving the ship that morning, and she debated on whether to take a peek inside the refrigerator. Spike liked long showers almost as much as she did, so she figured that she'd have plenty of time to check out the goods without getting caught.

As she moved to open the refrigerator door, she felt a warm breath caressing her neck and she squeaked in surprise. She whirled around to find Spike standing behind her with his hands in his pockets and a stupid grin on his face.

"Why you--" she savagely poked his chest with her finger. "What the hell was that, Spike?"

"Just wanted to see if you still had it."

"Had what?" She clamped her hands on her hips and stomped her feet in exasperation, glaring up at him.

He watched her, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "That," he said. "The fire in those green eyes." He pulled a hand out of his pocket to touch her cheek.

She stared up at him, wondering if this was the same Spike who had once inhabited the Bebop. Back then, he would never been so direct, especially with her. This Spike was a handsome stranger who was flirting with her and she felt awkward around him. The Spike she knew was a masochistic bastard who liked playing head games with her to see her squirm. She was tempted to punch him, but she controlled the urge; she wasn't ready to unleash her anger on him yet; she was still too relieved to find him alive.

And if she didn't know better, she'd say that he was glad to see her too.

"God, what a dump, Spike," she said, looking for a way to mask her discomfort. "Couldn't you afford anything better than this?"

He shrugged. "Why? I only sleep here."

Faye snorted. "Well, it's the one thing you're good at."

"Don't you want to find out what else I'm good at?" he asked seductively, leaning into her.

She took a couple of steps away from him.

"Don't flatter yourself," she scoffed as she strolled back into the living room. She kicked off her shoes and flopped onto the sofa, stretching her legs out.

Spike followed her, looking slightly perturbed as he watched her get comfortable. "That's my seat," he grumbled, slumping down in the armchair.

"Deal with it," she told him. "You know, I did a lot of walking around looking for you." She wriggled her bare toes in relief. "The streets of Tharsis are murder on a woman's feet."

Her stomach grumbled and she sat up, twisting towards him. "Spiiike … "

Spike made an exaggerated show of trying to get comfortable, stretching his long legs across the coffee table and crossing his arms across his chest before slowing shifting his gaze up to her face.

"What kind of host are you?" Faye asked coyly. "I'm a guest and I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry."

Faye batted her eyes at him. He grinned in spite of himself.

"Tell you what, because you're so hungry and I'm such a considerate host and all, and since you came all the way down to Mars just to find me --"

Faye interrupted him. "Are you going to feed me or what?"

"Hmmm …" Spike tapped a finger against his chin as he pretended to think about it.

She growled at him.

He finally answered her. "I know a Thai place that delivers." He took out his communicator and punched in a code for the restaurant.

Faye snickered. "Either your memory got sharper since your return from death or you don't cook much."

He scowled at her and turned back to the comm. "Yo, Soo-Ling. Yeah, the usual, but make it for two. How long? Right." A few brief words later, he ended the call, then stood up slowly and turned to Faye.

"Want a drink?"

She lit up. "Do you even have to ask?"

"Guess not." Spike walked into the kitchen and took a couple of glasses from the overhead cabinet, then pulled out a bottle of lao chu from the fridge.

"I'm not going to serve you," he called to her.

"That would be too much to ask," Faye muttered. She got up from the sofa and padded barefoot into the kitchen, reaching for the empty glass.

"Yeah, it would."

She clenched her fists and narrowed her eyes at him.

He threw up his hands in mock defeat. "Hey, I'm just saying."

"Don't you have anything stronger than this?"

Spike reached into the cupboard under the cabinet and pulled out an unopened bottle of whiskey. "Almost forgot about this," he said as he twisted off the cap. "One of the perks of the job."

He handed her the bottle and she poured herself a generous amount, then grabbed both her glass and the bottle to the table, Spike following behind her.

"You never did say what your job was, Spike."

He looked at her. "You're right, I didn't." He downed the contents of his glass and slid it towards her. "Fill it up?"

She reached to steady the glass, suppressing a shiver as their fingers touched. She filled the glass to the brim and slid it back to him, looking at him as she did so.

"Is that a challenge?" he asked with a smirk.

Faye finished off her own glass, closing her eyes momentarily as the liquid hit her stomach. She set the glass back down and gazed at him mischievously.

"Do you want it to be?" she shot back.

Spike picked up the glass and drained it in one gulp without a grimace. He pushed the glass back to her for another refill, flashing his seductive smile. Faye sniffed haughtily as she poured more alcohol into his glass. A beep from Spike's communicator sounded and he picked up to listen, then disconnected.

"Food's here." He finished off his drink in one gulp. "Spike 3, Faye 2," he said with a smile. "Be right back." He grabbed his keys from the table and left to meet the delivery kid.

Faye scowled. She could cheat and tell him that they were now even, but somehow that lunkhead would know. She refilled her glass. It wouldn't matter; she was much better at holding her liquor than him, anyway.

Too Many Secrets 4/?

Reunion

Spike stepped inside the Glowing Sun and surveyed his surroundings. He picked up an occasional word amidst the buzz of conversation, the click of a cue ball hitting the pocket on the pool table. As he ambled further in, his cybernetic eye easily detected the regulars scattered around the smoke-filled, dimly lit lounge. He caught sight of the waitress Grace moving efficiently and effortlessly through the room taking bar orders. The band, apparently between sets, was seated at one of the round tables in front of the stage, with a pitcher of beer and several overflowing ashtrays.

He looked over at the bar and hesitated when he spotted Faye chatting up the bartender. He couldn't say that he was surprised to see her; the word on the street was that someone had been inquiring into his whereabouts, and he had figured that it was either Faye or Jet, since everyone else he knew was dead. Well, except for Doohan, who only found out that he was alive when Spike had contacted him to look after the Swordfish for awhile. His current line of work required stealth and his ship would be too conspicuous in the places he needed to go. And besides, he didn't have any desire to go planet-hopping these days.

Still, Faye's presence in his territory was a little unnerving, like an expunged memory that had leaked, unbidden, to the forefront of his mind. Later he would have to hit up Ronald to find out what he and Faye had talked about. But for now he had to deal with her, and he was not looking forward to the meeting. She would probably deck him first, and then ream him out for not contacting her and Jet. He took a deep breath and slid his hands in his pockets before walking over to where she sat.

"Is this seat taken?"

As he waited for Faye to acknowledge him, he quickly took in her appearance. Her hair, which had grown considerably since that last day on the Bebop, was tied back into a long, thick ponytail. The black dress she was wearing was more conservative than her usual attire; it fit her snugly, showing off her tiny waist, the swell of her hips, and more than a little cleavage. Faye was a beautiful woman with a stunning figure, and he'd be lying if he said that he had never noticed. On quite a few occasions he had found himself sneaking a peek as she walked by; if she had ever caught him, he would be dead now for sure.

Faye swiveled in her seat at the sound of his voice, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder. If she was shocked to see him, she was doing a damned good job of hiding it.

"So," she said, narrowing her eyes at him. "You are alive."

"And kicking." He sat down on the stool next to her.

Faye looked around for Ronald and beckoned to him.

"I found him," she gushed when he came over. "He and I have so much to catch up on – do you think you could find us a table where we can talk privately?" she batted her eyes innocently.

Ronald beamed. "Sure thing, miss - Faye. Right this way."

Spike stifled his own grin as he witnessed Faye in action. She always did have a way of getting what she wanted.

Faye picked up her drink and followed the bartender, Spike trailing behind as they were guided to a table tucked away in a corner of the bar. Spike decided to be a gentleman and hold the chair for Faye. She glanced up at him and murmured something before sitting down. A look passed between the two men before Spike sat down opposite Faye, waiting for her to make a move.

"Thank you, Ronald." Faye flashed a brilliant smile at the young man, who blushed before returning to his station.

"Could you be a little more obvious …" Spike mumbled in disgust as he watched her performance.

As soon as the bartender was out of sight, Faye turned to him. "What's the matter, jealous?" she asked sweetly, turning her smile up a notch for his benefit.

He snorted. "Yeah, in your dreams …" He picked up her glass and took a sniff. "What are you drinking?"

"Hey!" Faye protested. "That's mine." She moved to snatch her drink from his hand, but Spike stopped her, clamping his free hand over hers.

"Aren't we supposed to be … close?" Spike drawled, looking down teasingly as she glared up at him. He lifted the glass to his lips, taking her hand with it, and took a swallow before setting it back down, still holding on to her hand. The warmth from her hand seeped into his skin and he marveled momentarily at how small and fragile her hand seemed compared to his. She slid her hand out from under his and leaned back, watching him with an inscrutable expression in her green eyes.

Spike resisted the urge to fidget under her gaze; instead he picked up her glass again and drained the contents, then reached in his pocket for his cigarettes and Zippo. He shook one out then wordlessly offered her one, but she shook her head. He lit up and inhaled once before finally returning her gaze.

"So, how have you been, Faye?" he asked absently. Her calmness was disconcerting and he wondered just how long it would take to spur her to anger.

She ignored his question and gestured to the waitress, who came over immediately.

"Two whiskeys on the rocks. Put them on his tab," she said tersely, inclining her head toward Spike. Her eyes never left his face.

Grace looked at Spike, who nodded his assent, then she disappeared to fill the order.

"We've been fine," she said, her gaze on his face steady and unwavering. "Jet and I work as a team now, and we've been doing quite well, in case you were wondering." She brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear and turned away to watch the band, who had returned to the stage to start a new set.

They waited in silence for Grace to return with their drinks. As the slow, smoky jazz filled the room, Faye seemed to lose herself in the music, a wistful expression washing over her face. Spike took the opportunity to study her profile. Except for the longer hair, she looked the same. He wondered what she was thinking about that would make her look so sad. Had it really been that long since he'd left them?

For him, the days and hours flowed endlessly from one job to the next. Mars was the place to be for syndicate activity, and when one syndicate disappeared, others moved in; meaning less competition for those that remained. Spike was good at what he did, the best, he told himself, and being the best meant there was no shortage of jobs waiting for him. He was an independent, and he made it abundantly clear to any prospective client that he wanted to keep it that way – no ties to any person or organization. He had had his fill of that.

But, sitting here, watching Faye as she moved her head to the music, catching a trace of the scent from her hair as it swayed, evoked in him a sense of something that he could not identify. He looked down at the hand that had held hers, and impulsively he lifted it to his nose to sniff. His hand smelled like her. He shook his head to clear away the fog that he was being drawn into. These were dangerous thoughts and he needed to get a grip. He pulled on his cigarette so deeply that it burned his throat, and exhaled a series of smoke rings into the air above their table. When he looked back at Faye, her eyes were already on his face, watching him.

"So-" he smirked, intending to ease his discomfort by teasing her.

"When are you coming back to the ship, Spike?" she interrupted, swirling the contents of her drink.

Spike's grin faded and he looked away. "I'm not."

Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Why not?"

He took a swig from his glass and glanced at her before answering. "I've closed the book on that part of my life, Faye, and that includes my time on the ship."

He didn't tell her that it had taken him eight months of vacillation and doubt before finally deciding not to go back; that decision had been his alone to make. After all, he was an all-or-nothing kind of guy.

Faye was silent, but kept a steady gaze on his face.

"Look, Faye," he said, his return glaze unflinching, "No offense, but I didn't exactly need approval from you or Jet."

Faye's gaze had not wavered. "So, just like that, you're giving us up?"

Spike leaned into her face, a mocking smile on his lips. "Last time I saw you, your hearing was pretty sharp." He leaned closer, a long thin finger reaching for her ear. "Has something happened that I should know about?"

She scowled and swatted his hand away. He leaned back in the chair, satisfied that finally he had gotten under her skin.

"How have you been supporting yourself?"

"I make do."

"Doing what." She demanded.

"I had a life before bounty hunting, you know."

"Doing what?" she repeated, glaring at him.

He turned an impassive gaze on her as his eyes slowly scanned her face. "The Red Dragons may be gone, but others are still around." He leaned down until his eyes were level with hers. "I heard that you were asking around about me."

Faye inched away but said nothing as she searched his face.

"When I walked in here earlier," he said coolly, "I could have killed you where you sat, and no one would have said a word." Her face faltered. "So, why don't you just run along back to the ship before you get into any trouble?"

"You're - just like – you really have turned into Vicious, haven't you?" she whispered.

He ignored the barb and smiled cruelly. "You think so?"

She was quiet, concentrating on her drink. Spike could tell that she was trying to think her way out of the situation. He had worked with her long enough to know how she operated. In fact, watching her, he could almost guess what her next move would be.

Sure enough, Faye's demeanor changed subtly. She crossed her legs and leaned forward, her green eyes glittering as she looked into his face. Even knowing what she was up to, his heart skipped a beat at the look she gave him.

"So, aren't you going to show me where you live?"

He rolled his eyes at her, and turned back to his drink.

Too Many Secrets 3/?

Lost and Found

The persistent beep from the vidscreen alerted her that a message was waiting. Faye roused herself from her nap, stretching her legs and yawning loudly.

"Jet!" she yelled, hoping he'd hear her calling so that she would not have to get up to answer it. When he didn't respond, she huffed and pushed herself up from the couch. She reached over to the vidscreen and pressed the key to display the message.

29-Jul-72 15:00:4:51 incoming message

Response re inquiry 5584993.33:00
Indicator sole survivor of Dragon coup
Name: Spiegel S
Sex: M
Height: 6'1
D.O.B.: 44-Jun-26
OFFICIAL STATUS: K.I.A. December 8, 2071
UNOFFICIAL STATUS:
Possible sighting Mars Tharsis sector 48 Glowing Sun Lounge
Criminal activity reported in sector 48
Extreme caution advised

"What the- " Faye scrolled back up to the beginning of the message. Then it dawned on her. This was a response to an inquiry that she had made a few months back, after the destruction of the Red Dragon's headquarters. She jumped up from the couch and rushed to the bonsai room to tell Jet.

"Jet!" Faye opened the door to the room but Jet wasn't there. She returned to the common room, and it was then that she noticed the slip of paper on top of her cigarette pack. She picked it up:

Gone out. Back later. Don't wait up.

She fished out a cigarette from the pack and lit it, exhaling in frustration and impatience. There was no telling how long it would be before Jet got back, and she really wanted to check out this place, since this type of intel usually had a small window of opportunity. She considered trying to reach him on his communicator but changed her mind. Grumbling, she snatched up her cigarettes and headed to her room to change.

Faye swung open the door to her closet and pulled out several outfits. She put the red one back, too slutty. She didn't want to cause suspicion and she had learned a hard lesson once upon a time at the opera. She decided that the not-so-innocent look would work best. Hmmm, this one should do, she thought and pulled out the dress she had in mind. She slipped into a low-cut black dress, form-fitting to accentuate her figure, and chose a pair of black stilettos to complete her ensemble. Her hair, which had grown out since Spike left, she now tied back with a black ribbon, then draped her red sweater across her shoulders. The red sweater was indispensable to the ensemble; she needed somewhere to put her Glock and the dress was just too short to hide a gun.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she adjusted herself until she was satisfied with the results. Then, just a touch of makeup, not too much lipstick, and she was ready. With a flick of her ponytail, she turned and left the room. On her way to the hangar, she paused, went back to the common to scribble a note beneath Jet's, then headed out to fire up the Red Tail.

* * *

Faye squinted to read the faded name on the building: Glowing Sun Lounge. This was the place. She adjusted the front of her dress to display a little more skin. She pulled open the door, surreptitiously eyeing the clientele as she walked in, feeling eyes following her every step. She smiled and made sure to put a little extra sway to her hips as she walked over to the bar and sat down at one of the empty stools.

At the front of the lounge was a small stage area where a quartet played jazz. The bartender was delivering drinks to a customer at the other end of the bar. Faye crossed her legs and waited for him to notice her. When he did, he headed down to her.

"What'll it be, miss?" he asked politely, his eyes meeting hers.

Faye gave him her order along with a sad smile. "The name's Faye," she said. "Whiskey, two cubes."

"Okay … Faye, whiskey on the rocks coming up." He served her quickly, and left to tend to his other customers.

Faye sipped on her drink as she listened to the music. The saxophone reminded her of another time and place that seemed like so long ago, sitting in place much like this one, listening to sad tunes and feeling sorry for herself. . But it was too sad to remember and she did not have time to dwell on that right now. She downed her drink and motioned to the bartender. He acknowledged her and finished with his customer before heading over to her.

"Excuse me … Ronald," she said sweetly, leaning forward, accentuating her ample cleavage as she read the bartender's nametag. She suppressed a smirk as she watched his eyes sweep down then swiftly back up to her face. She pulled out a picture from her red sweater.

"Do you know him?" she asked. "I've been looking everywhere for him."

Ronald's eyes widened as he examined the picture. "Uh … "

"It's alright," Faye told him as she took the picture out of his hand. "I can see that you do." She sat back and took a dainty sip from her glass. "Everybody thinks that he is such an animal, but …" her eyes swept up to his face and she whispered, "I like him just the way he is, if you know what I mean."

Ronald blushed. Faye smiled and ordered another drink.

* * *

Out of the blue, the door to the lounge swung open and in walked Spike himself.