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.

"Faye..." Spike's voice came to her from a distance.

"Mmph..." She replied.

"Faye, you're drooling." Spike said then, sounding amused.

"Mmph?" She wasn't exactly sure what he was saying. She was pretty drunk and mostly unconscious, sprawled across the bed and barely under the sheet. She'd long since kicked the blanket to the floor.

His next words sounded less amused. "On my fucking pillow."

Faye offered no reply this time except to grin madly into the pillow - which was indeed damp, but she was too drunk to even be bothered by that.

Spike sighed. "Wet pillow. No blanket because someone keeps thrashing it away. You're damn lucky I put up with you, woman."

She chuckled sleepily. "Shoulda drunk w'us. Y'drool too, lunker."

She heard him sigh with affectionate exasperation. "Yeah right. Then who woulda gotten you and Jet back to the ship?" A pause. "Wait, did you call me a fish?"

Faye took a deep breath to respond... But it turned into a snore as she fully embraced sleep, tangled in the sheet and the arms of her love. Drooling freely onto both their pillows.

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."

"You've been pouring over that book for hours, Faye. What the fuck is so interesting about some book from hundreds of years ago?"

She laughed. "Historians would have so many complaints against what you just said."

Spike gazed at her steadily. A blush was slowly creeping up her cheeks. "Anyway… I was just… doing some research."

"Oh yeah?" He padded over barefoot to stand behind the couch and peer down at the pages open in her lap. "Ohh yeah, I like this kind of research."

She snapped the book closed, face on fire with embarrassment.

"No, no, I'm not teasing. Open that back up, hey? I find it… rather stimulating if you must know." He leaned down, resting his elbows on the back of the couch on either side of her head and opened the book again. He brought his face down to be next to hers and nuzzled briefly at the spot on her neck that always gave her shivers. "Mm, see some of these we've already knocked out of the park. But a few of these others… well…" He dragged his face along hers gently as he backed up to straighten up - his stubble scraping against her smooth skin in a way he knew drove her wild.

Faye's breath hitched. She always tried to stay silent and still, to withhold her reaction to his allure, but he'd always been able to read her poker face. On the other hand, she'd also learned his tells and how he liked to try and play off that her own antics had no effect on him. Even now, months after hooking up initially, they still strove to one up the other. Who would be the first to gasp? To moan? To say the other's name in a hiss or a howl of passion?

"Let's start… here." Faye suggested, pointing to a pose called 'caramel.'

She glanced over her shoulder to peek at Spike coyly, her teeth pulling at her lower lip in a way she'd learned he couldn't stand for long before he had to take over.

"Mm, sounds smooth. But… let's build to that and start with this…" He reached over her shoulder to tap the page.

Faye looked at that image and frowned. "Really? The caliper? We've done that plenty."

He laughed. "Sure, against a wall or one of the ships or whatever. This is intended to be free standing. Nothing but me keeping you off the ground... And taking you to new heights of passion,"

She snorted. "Dial it back, Casanova."

Spike laughed. "Yeah I thought that might be too much. But still, c'mon, we've probably only got a couple hours before Jet gets back with Ed. Let's go... up to the bridge. All those windows, that view..." His eyes were fixed on her ample bosom.

Faye smirked and reached up to grab his tie, curling it around her hand. She rose to her feet while holding it in her fist and then used it to pull him around from behind the couch and towards the stairs. "I got a view for you to enjoy..."

Faye knows Spike likes to come across as a chill guy with no opinion on things one way or another. But she knows that's just a cover to try and keep anyone else from knowing anything true about him. She's lived on the ship with him for many months and has gleaned plenty of truths about the man, through her own skills of observation.

He has a fondness for bright colors. The yellow button up was a subtle suggestion of this, but it hadn't been until she'd seen him on one of his laundry days, sitting in a plain tank top and obnoxiously bright boxers - orange with a red stripe leaning towards the pink end of the spectrum - that she'd really started to wonder if maybe there was something he was subconsciously admitting about himself by wearing such a combination of colors.

That still wasn't enough to confirm her suspicion, but she had more evidence.

The way his eyes flicker to follow her when she enters the room, though he'll try to pretend like he'd never glanced up from the monitor or deck of cards or plate of food. She has spent years learning to gauge when a man was discreetly eyeing her up - it is something very important to be aware of in the bars or alleys or wherever she found herself. Not all threats were obvious, after all. Some liked to act like she was the last thing on their mind, but their gaze skittering across her skin always gave them away.

The thrill that filled her whenever she caught Spike at it was a far cry from the alarm that accompanied noticing that reaction in other men.

And Spike never tracked Jet or Ed or Ein with his eyes the same way he did her. None of the others was especially bright in comparison - not like her violently yellow shorts and top or her blazing red sweater. There was no other way around it - she popped. She was vibrant and colorful in this world of muted metal tones of the ship and common sense clothing of her comrades.

She's thought about bringing it up to Spike, but to what end? He'd just deny the furtive looks or shrug off her color theory. But she figures there's something she can do to quietly acknowledge his attention and to prove to him that she's got his number with this at least.

One day she borrows art supplies from Ed. Just a few blank pages and some watercolor paints. She has no images in mind, no goal with her attempt except to bring colors swirling together however they choose to form. Her only rule for herself is to use the boldest colors for most of the pages and softer blues and greens and grays for a select few.

She leaves them scattered around the ship. Tucked into the mirror in the bathroom is a small one. A larger one hides almost completely hidden on the bridge but in a spot she knows he'll see during his workouts. A red one to match the Swordfish left to be discovered within the zipcraft. She folds one up to nestle inside his half empty pack of cigarettes left on the couch - she helps herself to several to make room for the piece of art. She puts one on the workbench where he's guaranteed to spend time cleaning his gun. And she leaves one in her room for herself - one of the darker colors, because between the blue and the green and the gray all she can see is Spike.

And gradually they disappear.

If Jet had found them, he'd have wondered out loud about the oddity of random swirls of color left in bizarre locations. Ed had been hovering over her shoulder for most of her painting, giving her advice on water puddle size and brush tips, and she'd trailed after Faye as she'd left her work here and there. She wouldn't have disturbed the paintings, not when the young hacker was just as eager to see what sort of reaction those Easter eggs garnered from the crew.

But nothing was said. And eventually Ed must have forgotten.

Faye knew better.

And one day, weeks later, after a wild bounty chase that had ended with her disheveled and hurt...

When she'd caught him flat out staring and had pushed and pushed until he erupted into a fit of angry words and poorly veiled concern and ended his tantrum by taking her into his arms and kissing her senseless...

Later, much later, laying back in his arms, in his bed, in his room... She spots where he'd taped up her paintings. All of them. Scattered on his walls in such a way that no matter where she looks, she can see one.

Naturally he sees the smile that dawns, bright and brilliant, on her face.

Damn straight, she knows her man well. Even - or perhaps especially - the parts he tries so hard to keep out of sight.

"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."