She Likes It When He Takes Her Someplace Fancy. It's Fun To Dress Up And Have Him Show Her Off On The

She likes it when he takes her someplace fancy. It's fun to dress up and have him show her off on the dance floor. But she knows he isn't exactly comfortable in that scene and honestly neither is she. He indulges her though and it warms her heart.

Better is when he takes her off the grid. There are places he knows everywhere - hidden places only the locals know about. Those are her favorite dates. When he takes her along a washed out road to sit on someone's open air porch and wait for a family style dinner with some down to earth (or wherever) good people.

They eat with their hands and she always gets sauce on her face or on her clothes or both. She never even minds the stains she finds later. After food, they join their benefactors and clap for the musicians who appear in the street. Their music heralds the start of a night of boisterous activity and a whirlwind of adventure.

She'll lose her shoes or purse or something by the end of the night. He'll carry her or they'll stagger side by side. It isn't what most folk would consider romantic but Faye has never truly cared what other folk think anyway. It's his way of sharing the world he once knew with her - the parts safe to touch, still in existence - and she treasures these dates most of all.

Hunger was a hollow presence in her stomach and creeping up her throat. It made her very teeth ache. She could hardly concentrate on anything aside from the crushing void that called out to be filled.

She'd been hungry before. She'd been ravenous on occasion.

This was a slower, deeper feel. Starvation had sapped her strength, had stolen her ability to reason, was making her muscles watery and useless.

She knew she'd lost weight. Knew she'd begun to look truly emaciated.

She'd change it all in a heartbeat if she could.

But it had been so long since she had crashed here. So long since she'd been able to find anything edible to put in her belly. The berries she'd found had only made things worse, tying her insides up and making her vomit purplish bile. She was lucky that she hadn't eaten so many that she died. Or was that luck? It could have been over by now. No more emptiness consuming her from the inside out. No more fitful sleeping, tossing and turning, with no position comfortable.

It had been her own fault. Fighting with the others before bailing entirely. Telling Spike he was a fool to stay mired in the depression that had overtaken him after the Tower. Telling Jet he was a fool for letting Spike drift along like a spectre, coddling him and letting him wallow in his grief. She hadn't been able to stand it - the unnatural quiet on the ship. The heaviness hanging over everyone still there. That lost look in Spike's eyes and the haunted pain in Jet's as well for being unable to help his friend.

So she fled. Ran away to Earth of all horrible places but Earth was where Ed and Ein were. Earth was hope. She chased after her former comrades, seeking the happiness they had always radiated.

But Earth had never been good to her. It had been silly to expect to find her missing friends and for life to be all sunshine and roses. She hadn't even considered how low on fuel her craft was. Hadn't considered just how incredibly vast the deserts of Earth were. Hell, she wasn't even sure if she'd gone to the right continent.

Laying in the shade of the edge of a crater, Faye Valentine let tears slip down her face. There was no one around to see her and judge her. No one to notice her weakness. She had failed in her mission. Just like how she'd failed everything else. Uncovering her past and finding answers. Fail. Pulling Spike out of his misery. Fail. Proving to Jet she could handle anything the universe threw at her. Fail. Finding Ed and Ein and bringing them home to the Bebop. Fail.

And now here she was, too exhausted and hungry to even move anymore. If she hadn't found a little spring nearby, she would have been dead days ago from lack of water. Now she wondered if she hadn't just been prolonging her own demise. For a few hours she'd thought she found a way to trick herself into feeling like she'd eaten. If she scooped the water into her hands and licked her palms clean of every drop - her hands themselves offered a salty flavor she tried to pretend was food.

It had been a trick that actually got better with time. Which she knew on some level meant she was losing her ability to think straight. But she sort of relished that. She didn't want to be cognizant of her own death. She'd rather go slightly mad first if that was possible. It seemed a gentler way to go.

A shadow passed overhead. A bird perhaps? There had been some vultures sneaking closer and closer as the days went by. They had frightened and unnerved her at first but now she thought of them as friends. She could offer them something. She could offer them herself. She'd been no good to anyone else but maybe she could be good to them. Provide them with some sustenance so they could continue to live in this scorching desert.

It made her happy to think she could still have a positive impact somehow.

The sun was starting to set on another day. She'd lost track of how long it had been since she left the ship, since her zipcraft had dropped from the sky and broken itself to pieces. If only she'd been higher up instead of slowly going down - she could have died in a fiery explosion if her ship had fallen from a more significant height. As it was, her crash had been fairly dull. Just enough force when ramming into the dusty earth that her pod shield had cracked and the underbelly of her vessel had been gouged to shit as it tore into the terrain.

She closed her eyes, not wanting to witness the beauty of the sun's descent. She didn't deserve to see the colors that would fill up the sky and deepen until the stars shone through the blue-black of night.

"Shit, Faye!"

She frowned. Opening her eyes again was a struggle. They were so gritty and she was so very, very tired. But she wanted to know if she was imagining people again - it had happened a few times now in her delirium.

Hands on her. Fabric brushing her sunburnt skin. Liquid poured onto her parched lips - she nearly choked as her mouth automatically opened and accidentally took in too much of the cold liquid. Trembling hands - or was she shaking? Her senses reeled, her mind edging back from whatever was happening. Darkness devoured her.

When she woke, it was in a strange room. Everything was white. The sheets covering her too thin body. The walls, the ceiling, the floor. She would have thought herself dead if not for the sound of machinery nearby and the slightly itchy pain of having an IV inserted into her flesh.

She couldn't muster the energy to open her eyes more than a fraction. But she could see something that wasn't white now that she focused. Olive skin. A large hand laying gently atop her right hand - the left was hooked up to the IV. She didn't feel strong enough to turn her head, but she was able to slant her gaze to the side.

Mossy green hair. The most rumpled blue suit she'd ever seen. Brown eyes, slightly different shades, looking right back at her with a mixture of worry and relief.

"Fuck, you scared me." Spike said when he realized she wasn't going to fall back asleep. His thumb twitched on her hand. "When we couldn't raise you on the comm... Well, at first we figured you didn't want to be followed. But... something in my gut wouldn't stop saying I needed to find you." He smiled helplessly, no mirth in it. "If I hadn't seen the sun glinting off the wreckage of your ship... fuck, I'm so glad Ed put those trackers on our ships. And glad you didn't stubbornly turn yours off."

He gave her hand a squeeze.

"You probably can't talk yet. They had a feeding tube down your throat for a day or two, that's gone now but they said it would take a bit to heal. You're still on fluids, they were real concerned with how long you were out in the sun without food or much water."

She blinked slowly. This seemed real, or else the trippiest hallucination she'd had yet. But why would she hallucinate being uncomfortable in a hospital bed while Spike Spiegel held her hand?

"We should have started looking sooner. It's gonna take so many servings of bell peppers and beef to get your weight up." He chuckled but then grew serious. "You were right, you know. People aren't meant to cling to sorrow the way I was. I just... wasn't ready to let go of everything that had made up my life before. When Jet told me you took off... I felt responsible. I didn't want to be. I didn't want your happiness to be contingent on mine. But that's what happens. You live with people, you work with people, you start to care when they're upset and you care about why they're upset. I was bringing you and Jet both down with me and I hadn't even realized."

Tears were gathering in her eyes.

"I already apologized to him. Oh Faye, you would have lost it at his expression. But there was still a pit in my stomach over the way you left. I pushed you to it. I... remember you saying how the ship was the only place you belonged. And I'd made it so you didn't feel good there anymore. You were so caught up in trying to make me better and I didn't even notice. I just wanted to be dead. But that was dumb. Here I was, survivor of the destruction of an entire syndicate, wishing I didn't exist anymore."

He paused to reach up with his right hand and wipe away a tear that had escaped her. His left hand tightened again on her hand in his grip.

"I decided that if I was gonna be alive anyway, I should actually try to live. Seems foolish not to. And then I wanted to find you, to apologize, and to invite you back. The ship isn't the same without you, Faye. We got used to you using up all the hot water and eating all the food and humming off key. I kept expecting you to be there, trying to steal my cigs or challenging me to a drinking contest. So, I tracked down your ship. Which wasn't easy - the main body of your vessel got detached from the section where the tracker is housed in the first place. Not to mention the sand storms had nearly buried the damn thing. And then you weren't there. I don't even know how long I searched until I finally went to take a break in the shade of a crater and saw you crumpled there."

He took a deep breath and wiped more of her tears away.

"You were so light in my arms. Insubstantial. And you wouldn't wake up. You wouldn't yell at me. You didn't try to fight me at all. I didn't even know if we could save you on the ship so Jet directed me to the nearest hospital and that's where we are now. Where we've been. We can stay here until you're recovered enough to leave. Jet's been pulling in some small fries. So don't worry about the bill. Fuck money anyway."

She licked her lips, still cracked from exposure and dehydration, and opened her mouth to try and speak. Before she could though he jumped to his feet and grabbed a glass from the table next to her bed. He poured water from a pitcher into the glass and then held it to her lips, using one of his big hands to support her head as she tried to lift it enough to drink without dribbling all over or choking.

He set the glass aside when she turned her face just enough to indicate she was done with it. His left hand found it's way back to cradle her head while his right hand came back to her cheeks to brush away more tears. Fuck, she was like a leaky faucet.

"I...wanted...to...find...Ed." She rasped. "Bring...joy...back."

His eyes softened and a smile curled his lips. "Oh Faye, you're joy too. Without you around life just isn't as much fun." He leaned down then to press a kiss to her forehead. "We can look for them when you're up for it. See what they're up to, if they wanna join us again. But we'll do it together. You, me, Jet. No more of this running off solo shit. Okay?"

Mutely, she nodded. Spike's smile grew a bit wider and he moved to sit back down at her bedside. His left hand stayed behind her head, shifting slightly lower so he could rub absently at her neck, and his right hand went to hold hers again.

"No more talking, just take it easy now. Get some sleep if you can - healing goes quicker when you rest. I'll be here, Faye. I'm not going anywhere."

The hollow ache of hunger in her stomach was waning. She knew she wouldn't actually feel full until she was sitting back on the Bebop and finishing up a plate of Jet's food. But the other ache, the emptiness in her heart that she hadn't even acknowledged, that was already fading away fast. Between Spike's words and his touch, she was filling up with a warmth the sun could never hope to rival.

There was a rustling noise. Light leaked in from the hall due to his door being only partially closed. Spike rolled away from the light but before he could fall back asleep he became aware of Faye's hand gently shaking his shoulder.

"I had a nightmare. Can I sleep in here?"

"Hmm," Obviously the answer was yes but he didn't like to give in right away. Didn't want her thinking she had all the power even though she did.

Faye sighed but sounded amused, as though she'd planned for this eventuality. "I'll give you a shooter." She said in a sing-song voice.

Spike blindly reached backwards over his shoulder for the tiny plastic bottle, opened it with his teeth, drank the contents in one sip, and tossed the bottle into a dark corner of the room.

He flopped onto his back and lifted the blanket so she could slide in beside him. Her hands snuck into his hair immediately as she draped herself atop him. Her lower half shifted against him restlessly as if she couldn't quite get comfortable.

Spike grinned and then smacked his lips. "Mm, pepperminty."

From down by his ribs, where her face was pressing kisses to his skin, came a giggle. "Figured you hadn't brushed your teeth,"

He made an appreciative noise and then wrapped his arms around her to draw her up and flip them both over so he was looming over her now. She was smiling at him, her eyes glittering in the light from the hall, and still using her lower half against him.

"I think you wanted fresh tasting kisses," He replied, bringing his face down to hers to scatter kisses on her nose and cheeks. "Well," kiss "I'm" kiss "happy" kiss "to" kiss "oblige." And then he stopped talking and peppering her face with kisses so he could capture her lips with his own.

"I don't suppose I could convince you to keep this to yourself, huh?"

Ed's eyes were alit with mischief but something in his tone must have gotten through to her because she was quiet for a long minute.

"Jet-person doesn't like his birthday?" She asked finally, a concerned frown on her face.

He sighed. "It's not that exactly. It's just... There's no need for a fuss."

Edward considered this as she followed Jet up the stairs to the bridge. Spike and Faye were visible from the windows, smoking on the deck. Ein pranced around by their feet.

"No presents? No songs? No cake?" She persisted.

Jet shook his head. "No need, Ed. See, most folks are always wanting. More money, more power, more from others. The way I figure it, I've already got all I need. And, do you know what the best things are anyway, Ed?"

She shook her entire body with the force of her head shake.

"Well, the best things in life aren't things. It's... Having dinner with your family. Having a smoke with your friend," He gestured to the pair outside. "It's getting to spend time with folks you care about."

"Ohhhh. Like Faye's belonging. Or how Ein protects Spike-person from bad dreams."

"Exactly. Presents aren't important - presence is." Jet emphasized.

Ed made a thoughtful sound and went to press her face against the window. She tapped on the glass until Spike noticed her and put his hand on Faye's shoulder to indicate to her to turn around. Ein looked up also. With their attention on her now, Ed began making a series of faces through the glass. Her breath huffed steam against the surface and with delight she pulled back to draw a heart before it faded.

Below, Spike was shaking his head with a smile and Faye, rolling her eyes, still blew her a kiss.

Turning back to Jet, Ed grinned hugely. "Ed hasn't said a thing to the others. But... Kind of funny how they chose today to be chill like cucumbers. No stress, no mess."

Jet chuckled. "You're right, kid. Their presence isn't always a gift, that's for sure. But..." He fixed her with a stern look. "And don't go blabbing this around either... But it's good having you all on board. Even when they make me shout or when you flood the bonsai room."

Ed laughed. "Ed was just making it rain!"

It seemed useless to tell her that bonsai trees didn't need that much water, and anyway she'd been trying to help. Though he certainly hadn't let her help with the plants since then. It seemed so long ago now since he'd met back up with Fad, finally learned the truth, and had made his peace with that bit of his past.

Fad had known his birthday. Alisa had too. Fad would take him out for a drink, and Alisa would get him something useful. Neither was a part of his life any longer. For that matter, who knew how long any of these strays would linger on the ship.

Sharing inconsequential details like birthdays was unimportant.

They shared plenty on this ship as it was.

"You know, Ed ... there is cake, actually." Jet confided as he reached into the small compartment by the pilot chair. "I picked some up at the market earlier. Just a slice, since I couldn't afford a whole cake and real food too." He set the container on a nearby flat surface.

Ed was staring at the box with wide eyes and a mouth all set to drool.

"Those two don't need any sweets, and chocolate is no good for dogs, but... Well, I'll share with you if it buys your silence about this whole birthday business."

"Bribing Ed?" She said with a giggle. "Now Ed is truly a member of the Bebop,"

Bemused at her logic, Jet offered her the cake first. "Of course you're a member of the team, kid."

"Family," She replied through a mouthful of cake. "Bebop is family." She grinned at him. "Happy birthday, Jet-papa-person."

"You keep your heart in your hands. Oh, I know the saying - you wear your heart on your sleeve - but it's inaccurate. Or, well, it's accurate enough but it's not… precise. It's all in the touch, you see. Tenderness is revealed through fingertips. Violent emotions get expressed through slaps or punches. You use your hands to cradle, to caress, to create or destroy. The heart is expressed through the hands, even if the sleeve likes to take credit as showing a heart's truth."

That's how Faye knows he loves her.

You can't fake that kind of sentiment. The chasteness and the tentative awe in his touch in the beginning, and then later, much much later… as his hands on her became more familiar, the grip firmly reassuring, the confidence in strokes - those could be faked - hookers and whores did it all the time - but not the way they had built to that point, there was no faking all of that. 

From the beginning it had been so slow, so gradual… occasionally brushing knuckles as they moved side by side down the hall or an alley. Fingertips grazing softly - on accident of course - for longer than necessary whenever woolong cards, or alcohol bottles, or cigarettes exchanged hands. 

On occasion it manifested as a rough yank to grab a comrade and pull them back from danger ahead, or to stop an abrupt descent from a rooftop. Those were powerful but instinct based and always released too soon as adrenaline pushed them into the next motion and the next. In the heat of the moment they couldn't afford to wax poetic even in their own minds about the comfort of that contact, keeping one another safe.

When he first tangled his fingers with hers in a genuine handhold, it had started off playful. His fingers tickling at her palm as they sauntered along in Jet's wake - like children they'd been shoving back and forth, calling each other insults without spite or animosity, until Jet had turned around to just stare at them with his hands on his hips until they shut up and stared back guiltily.

It was after Jet turned back around with rolled eyes and a long suffering sigh that Spike's hand had darted over to hers and begun that dance - fingertips tap tap tapping against her palm - until she wrested control by lacing her fingers through his. And then just like that they were holding hands, arms swinging easily at their sides. 

Jet must have noticed in a reflection because she could tell he was laughing quietly up ahead.

They wouldn't jump into bed together that night, or the next, or for quite a while. A different game had begun. No longer did they bother with snapping insults back and forth… now they sought to embarrass and torment one another through subtle suggestion, innocent innuendo, or all out enticement. Like when Spike purposefully works out shirtless in the same room as Faye. Or when she sashays around in her bathrobe, nearly open, and a clean, light scent whispering tantalizingly to Spike's nose. Delicate, like Faye herself.

Most of their interactions are feisty and fun. But not all. They are both still heavily shadowed by their pasts, by their individual insecurities and the miseries they've experienced. If it wasn't for the teasing temptation they've been dangling in front of one another, well, who knew how deep a soul could sink into depression.

They keep each other from falling in. Working so hard to stay on the bright side, to try and see the silver lining, to avoid the darkness of giving up and giving in. They might live life recklessly - though neither had ever truly wanted to do themselves in, despite how careless they were with their own lives - but... pain hurts… sounds so silly, so simple, but that's the base of it. Pain hurts, and after too long people just don't want to hurt anymore.

So they try to keep each other from suffering. 

And in trying to not fall into despair and depression, they've managed to stumble into something else altogether. It isn't a thing either wants to admit because it means acknowledging emotional weakness and owning up to change. They aren't that type of person. It's so much easier to hide in the roles they've been playing. Safer that way too. Besides, they're happy enough with this for now.

She doesn't want to hear the words because then she'd have to respond. Words are cumbersome and trite. She uses words as a weapon and she isn't sure how to offer them as a gift. 

But... 

She feels it, pulsing stronger and stronger with every beat of her heart. She shows it to him with every brush of her hand through his hair, with every pinch to his nipple or ass - what? She's a spicy gal! - and with every night spent curled around him or him around her and always with her hands engulfed in his, locking them gently together.

Her hands can't hide the truth, much like his own give him away. But she knows his heart is safe within her grasp - she'll never abandon him now that they've come this far. And she knows him well enough, his triggers and his ghosts, to trust him to hold her own heart with care as well.

Faye's stomach was twisted in knots. This was, rather unfortunately, a very familiar feeling because she'd experienced it easily dozens of times since being revived. Whether it was from being hung over or eating dog food, expired rations, mildly poisonous berries, or bad meat like today... She'd certainly put her body through some shit in attempt to satisfy hunger pangs.

Spike had zero sympathy for her, but he seldom did when she brought things on herself like this.

"I told you that meat was questionable," Spike told her through the door.

"Ughhh next time slap it out of my hand then," She moaned. An acidic burp warned her that she was about to be violently ill again. "Why am I the only one puking?"

"Ed has an iron stomach, I think. Even Ein didn't wanna touch that. Next time just take your cue from him," Spike chuckled.

"Go away if you're just gonna-" She interrupted herself to throw up.

"Well, I was gonna say..." Spike spoke louder to be heard over the noise of her vomiting. "After you ignored my warning, Jet decided he couldn't let you girls show him up. He's in the other bathroom with pretzel guts too." A pause. Faye chuckled weakly from within the confines of the stink stall. "Yeah, figured you'd appreciate knowing that - misery loves company, after all."