Canon. The Man Likes Cats.

canon. the man likes cats.

Two cats ^^

@febuwhump prompt: semi-conscious

***

“So what the hell am I looking for here?”

Faye yawned before blinking tired eyes at the screen where Jet’s grumpy face was. She gave a half shrug. “How the hell should I know?”

“Aren’t you looking at the readout? I left it on the screen right in front of you!”

She rolled her eyes. “Idiot. You’re on the screen right in front of me.”

The flickering image of Jet was gritting its teeth, a vein popping on his forehead. “You can minimize this window. That will let you see me and the information on the bounty.”

Giving him a disbelieving look Faye poked at the keyboard keys using the tried and true hunt-and-peck method. Moments later, Jet’s image was gone entirely and the screen cleared to a blinking blue screen awaiting some sort of input.

Her comm device began to blare for attention and Faye huffed a sigh as she answered. “What.”

“You hung up on me!”

“The computer went dark! Now it’s all blue.”

Jet growled. “Where is Spike? Is he there? Put him on!” And then a thoughtful pause as if Jet was remembering Spike’s beaten up condition. “Is he awake?” Jet's concern over Spike's sleep made Faye's own heart thump with some odd combination of jealousy and mutual worry. Spike had risked his own life to save her, after all. Jet had wanted to disconnect the call. Far be it for anyone to care much about poor Faye Valentine - even Spike's rescue hadn't been on her behalf so much as to settle some bullshit score with a dick from his past.

Still, he had come for her.

Faye twisted to look at the lanky form of the cowboy stretched on the couch behind her. His eyes were closed but if anything he seemed to be holding his breath as though using a child’s method of feigning sleep where they forget to regulate their breathing and just try to hold completely still.

“Hm… semi-conscious at best.” She judged, giving Spike an out from having to deal with Jet’s attitude. A slight smile creased Spike’s face and she nearly rolled her eyes before remembering that Jet could see her and would notice that sort of reaction. Trust a cop to read too much into someone’s expressions.

“Well what the hell good are either of you!”

Faye stuck her tongue out at the irritable image on the small comm screen. “You’re the one who was bragging up a storm about bringing in the bacon with a big one all by your lonesome! I could have come along as backup but nooooo you insisted you were capable of doing this on your own!”

“All I needed was for you to send over that page of information! It didn’t send to the Hammerhead properly! See, this is why I’m always stuck on the ship handling the computer aspect of our cases! How hard is it to minimize a window?” Jet would have continued to berate her but Faye deactivated the call from her end with a satisfied smile.

“Leaving him to figure it out on his own?” Spike’s voice rumbled behind her.

Faye gave a negligent wave of her hand. “He found the information in the first place. So he’s gotta search it again on his on-board computer, whoop-dee-do. Maybe if he asked a little nicer I could have found what he was looking for.”

“You’re something else, Faye.”

This time she let herself roll her eyes. “Yeah and you were really jumping at the chance to help out yourself, Mr. I’m-just-gonna-lay-here-and-fake-sleeping.”

There was no response. Faye twisted to look at him again and Spike gave an exaggerated and not at all convincing snore.

“Real mature.” She muttered before carefully entering in the proper sequence of information to load up the computer screen. A nagging sense of guilt was forcing her hand but it was better to be the bigger person here. After all, Jet was out picking up work to make sure they could eat later and technically all she was responsible for was making sure Spike didn't tear any stitches or overdose on pain pills. Being a helpful teammate was something that she wasn't exactly familiar with but dammit she wanted to be. She hated to be indebted to anyone.

A few moments later the relevant information was copied and sent over to Jet’s zipcraft. “Never let him say I do nothing around here.” She remarked before glancing at Spike again when he had no quip of a response. She realized he’d gone from semi-conscious to unconscious, likely from the pain meds coursing through his system. Well, her work for the day was done and her only company was zonked out so…

Faye patted his pockets down lightly to find his pack of cigarettes and liberated his lighter as well. Time to celebrate a task well done!

The Rogue & Gambit fanzine will be opening preorders soon!! Check out @rogue-gambit-fan-zine for all the details (and to see a bunch of other sneak peeks)! We've all had the best time on this project and are so excited to share. <3

an abridged snippet of my contribution:

"Pretty good view, sugah," Rogue said as she settled onto the ledge.

Oliver blinked at her from Remy's lap.

"Oliver and I came up to watch the sunset."

Rogue, reaching over to scratch at Oliver's ears, glanced up at her husband through her lashes. "Ah wasn't talking 'bout the scenery…"

Y'all are gonna love the artistic contribution for my piece made by @lizah-aart 😻

@febuwhump prompt: truth serum

entry for Other Relationship/Free Day (spikexjulia) for @bebopcrew

***

"Just like that... sing for me..."

The request tore at her heart yet still provoked a faint smile to tug at her lips.

Pain medication had always worked like a truth serum on Spike. It was something Julia was at times grateful for but usually resented though she'd never admit that to anyone else.

Knowing the impact you had on another person was a heady prospect. It made her spirit soar, wild and free and delighted, but it also dragged her conscious thoughts down down down to a place of dark fears and the agony of knowing that there could be nothing between them no matter how they might dream of it.

This was not the first time Spike had shown up at her door, bloodied and bruised and battered.

Sometimes she wondered if he purposefully let himself get hurt just to wind up in her care.

It was such a ridiculous risk to take. The syndicate had dozens of doctors on the take - an entire team of scientists that Spike himself had horrible familiarity with, in fact. He didn't need to put both of them in the spotlight by collapsing into her arms as often as he did.

Then again... it was a fairly inconspicuous way to ensure he got to spend hours if not days in just her presence. Convalescing under her watchful eye and tender care... leading her further and further astray from the untouchable femme fatale she had always strove to be.

Her role in the syndicate was not to change bandages or administer medicines to ailing agents of destruction.

Spike knew her job just like she knew his. For the longest time it hadn't bothered him - or at least he hadn't let anyone know if it did. For the longest time he had stayed at an appropriate distance and had gazed at her with respectful eyes and had been the person Vicious trusted above all others.

Certainly above Julia herself. Vicious knew her job too, of course. Knew how well she could perform and how easily she could convince others of her affection and her loyalty.

She had been drawn to the mystery of the man. Impressed by his self-control and intrigued by the past he refused to reveal. His quest for power had aligned quite well with her own desire to ascend the ranks of the Red Dragons.

Never had she thought for a moment that she might be sidetracked from their mutual goal. Never had she thought she might find herself bogged down in feelings and trapped in a situation that had no easy way out and no happy ending.

Loving Spike would be a mistake. It was a path full of peril and pain.

And yet... the adoration in his eyes - both of them, the real and the fake...

The caress of his voice when it was just the two of them, his tone alone implying such impure thoughts and intentions...

Even the arrogance of the man, assuming they could be something behind closed doors, making her believe that there might be more to life than ruling a criminal organization.

She was undeniably smitten. Perhaps already doomed by the quickening of her heartbeat and the heat pooling in her belly at the notion of following this dangerous urge... of diving into something unknown and unpredictable and unsustainable with this cocky man.

There would be time for worries. There would be endless hours of anxiety, no doubt. Regrets to reap in the future.

For now she let herself give in to his charm. For now she would let herself have a moment of peace in his company. For now, for him, she would sing like the caged bird she truly was.

@febuwhump prompt: "Who did this to you?"

doubles as my submission for Relationship Week: Spike and Faye and Jet @bebopcrew

***

She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and frowned at the smear of bright red blood that stood out so vibrantly against her pale skin. Well, at least she hadn't been wearing her gloves - blood was such a bitch to get out of fabric.

"Faye?" Spike's voice held an uncharacteristic note of concern.

She paused on the landing between the two short flights of stairs in the living room. Spike was sitting on the couch with a steaming cup of ramen cradled in his hands. He was frowning at her over the top of it and his worried expression along with his greeting had also drawn Jet's attention for the other man was turning away from the computer screen to see what had Spike so perturbed.

Both men were on their feet so abruptly that Faye felt like she'd somehow missed a segment of time. Was she that zoned out?

"Who did this to you?" Jet was demanding as he tried to lead her over to the couch.

Spike, grim-faced, was already rooting through the mini fridge for the small arsenal of bullets and other destructive items he liked to stash there.

Faye fobbed off Jet's tentative grasp of her right arm but wobbled alarmingly enough that he was able to successfully catch hold of her on his second attempt. Feeling far too spent to fight off his attention, Faye gave in to the doctoring that Jet began to administer once he'd gotten her onto the couch.

"Which bounty were you after?" Spike asked quietly as Jet dug through the medical kit they kept stashed in the living room.

Faye turned her head to spit out a mouthful of blood. She felt bad about that momentarily but then remembered how many times Spike had bled all over the furniture and floor in here and decided she'd earned the right to do the same on occasion.

"Goliath." She muttered. "Aptly named, turns out. Dunno what happened. I shot him. I know I did. Point blank." She'd never had an adversary react the way the giant man had. It was like the bullets she fired at him lent him an unholy strength. In retrospect, being close enough for her target to reach out and grab her was not the best idea. The whole benefit of using a gun was to keep your distance so you stayed out of trouble. But she'd assumed he would... well, at least flinch. Instead, he'd smiled the most terrible smile she had ever seen crawl across someone's face and then he'd snapped his hand out so fast that she hadn't been able to dance away from his strike.

"Jet." Spike's voice was calm yet Faye could sense a maelstrom of meaning in the tone used to address the other man. It had always mystified and impressed her how little the two men had to say to one another to communicate effectively.

Sure enough, Jet understood every portion of the things Spike left unsaid.

"I'll send you coordinates as soon as I get the location." He was still preoccupied with trying to staunch the blood flowing from a gash across Faye's right side. Surprisingly, that open wound didn't hurt nearly as much as where Goliath's fists had landed on her left hip and her right cheek, nor where his ridiculously strong grip had crushed her right wrist when he latched onto her dominant hand to knock her gun away.

Spike was already to the circular door by the time Faye blinked again.

"My gun," she murmured, wincing as Jet began to clean along the cut so he could stitch it up neatly.

"I'll find it." Spike assured her. "Tell Jet everything you know before you pass out. I don't wanna go looking for a needle in a haystack trying to find this guy."

She gave him a jaunty little salute though she immediately regretted the movement. Everything was sore or seeping blood. She hadn't had her ass handed to her that badly in years. If the sirens of approaching squad cars hadn't frightened off the bounty... well, she decided not to think about that. What ifs were pointless.

"Okay Faye... so where did this all go down and where do you think he went..." Jet began interrogating her while suturing her side.

It had been demeaning to be tossed around like a ragdoll. She didn't like having to admit there were times she was in over her head. But something in her heart swelled at how the guys jumped to offer assistance without her having to ask. Likely they knew how difficult it was to swallow one's pride and admit to needing help. But they made it so she didn't have to voice her failure at all... they just bypassed that aspect of the issue and dove straight to the heart of things - taking stock of her injuries and taking over the mission of bringing Goliath down.

Hissing at the pressure of Jet's metal fingers pinching her flesh together so he could thread the sterilized needle through the undamaged bits along either side of the slash, Faye began to recount her day and where it all went wrong...

My Funny Valentine

The music played on loop over the speakers of the RedTail as Faye sat in the pod of her vessel, parked in the Bebop's hangar, and took generous pulls off the bottle of a cheap blush wine.

The lyrics went in one ear and out the other but it didn't matter because she'd already memorized the words. She'd used her share of the paltry sum from Whitney's bounty to purchase the music chip and the wine. The music was a waste - it was a ridiculous song for anyone to claim as their favorite. The wine was a better investment if only for the way it was slowly improving her mood.

For years now she'd had the guilt of Whitney's death hanging over her. Being stuck with his debt, infuriating as it was in the moment of discovery, had seemed like the only gift she could offer his memory. It was such a small thing to offer as consolation for his tragic demise thanks to the insurmountable debt she herself had incurred for simply surviving to this uncaring day and age. Not that Whitney had had any family that Faye could apologize to, at least that was what the Doctor had told her at the time. The "doctor". His uncle? Clearly lying ran deep in the family.

It was something of a relief to not be responsible for his death. Faye had taken a number of lives since being revived and being forced to make her own way in the universe. That first one had been the worst because it had been entirely her fault. If Whitney hadn't taken an interest in her... if he hadn't been trying to help her... if he hadn't convinced her to flee...

Of course, it was all staged. Just a giant ruse to trap her with his financial fuck ups and clear his own slate to start anew. What a fucking ass. How rotten does a person have to be to take someone with no memory and take advantage of them so completely? To pretend at caring about her... to make her feel desired and welcome in this era where she had no one at all except this one individual...

It made her flush with shame. It was embarrassing that she'd been hustled so hard. And she hadn't even realized 'til now! She'd carried the weight of Whitney's dying, shouldered the responsibility of his debt - not that she had done anything about paying back his or her own for that matter. But the way he had burdened her... emotionally, financially... offering her guidance and then cruelly skipping out on her before she really had her footing.

"I was wrong."

Faye startled at the unexpected voice, nearly fumbling the wine. Bringing the bottle to her lips to try and pretend like she'd always been in control of it, she looked out at the silhouette of Spike Spiegel framed in the doorway between the hangar and the rest of the ship.

"You're not a horrible woman, Faye. Even if he had died because people were gunning for you. The choices another individual makes are their own responsibility. Saddling you with his debt, whether he lived or died, that was a dick move."

Flabbergasted, Faye simply stared at the lanky cowboy.

"But I stand by the other stuff I said. About your past being inconsequential. We can't go back and fix things. There's no redoing any of it. So... fuck it. Forget about it. Leave it in the dust where it belongs." He was wandering closer, hands stuffed in his pockets.

Faye swallowed hard. He was right, of course. She hadn't learned anything helpful - well, aside from being innocent of getting Whitney murdered. And Doctor Baccus had been a rude son of a bitch. If any of the shit they'd told her had been true, she'd basically been in the midst of puberty still when whatever had happened had happened. So fuck him if she had questions about who she was and where she was from and what lay ahead.

Besides, that last bit was the same shit anyone had on their mind at any given time. You didn't have to be young to wonder about your future. In life there was only uncertainty... uncertainty surrounding everything no matter your age, no matter the job security or familial connections or commitment to your dreams.

She pressed a button on the console and took the music chip as it was ejected. Tossing the bottle of wine out to Spike who hastily pulled his hands from his pockets to catch it, Faye held the chip in both hands and snapped it in half. Dropping the broken pieces carelessly into the messy floor of her zipcraft pod, she hopped out.

"Song was shit." She muttered as she walked past Spike, pickpocketing his cigarettes as she went. Before she got out of reach though she turned around and snagged the bottle back from him.

There was a grin pulling at his lips. He reached into his pocket and withdrew his lighter to waggle it at her.

"Not gonna burn through those without this, Romani." He murmured.

Faye smirked. "Thy vacant brow and thy tousled hair conceal thy good intent." She tilted her head towards the interior of the ship. "Light me up on the bridge and maybe I'll give you a sip or two."

Chuckling, Spike moved up next to her and they fell into step side by side as they went to watch the stars slide by.