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Aug. 7th, 2004 02:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sabinelagrandeTitle: It Could Be Sweet from "The Late Spike Spiegel Blues"
Summary: "Faye pulled her mind back from the fog that Spike's kiss had cast over her."
Fandom: Cowboy Bebop
Word Count: 1001
Rating/Warnings: R, language
Pairing: Spike/Faye
A/N: I know, I know, I'm sorry for the cliffhanger, and I'm sorry it was a month between updates. I <3 you all a lot.
She could still feel his mouth on hers, could still taste his kiss, and it was driving her mad.
Faye couldn’t look at him during dinner, because she didn’t know what she was going to see. Would he smile? Would he look away? She finished and left, not saying a word.
She walked to her room, sat down on her bed and really started to think.
Faye pulled her mind back from the fog that Spike’s kiss had cast over her. He couldn’t love her. She wasn’t ready for him to love her. Faye could love Spike; that was different. She had metabolized that. It was part of her life now, and she could deal with it. But the reverse… No. Too much. Too much right now. Her past had come to nothing, then he’d left, and nearly gotten himself killed, and she’d been at his bedside the entire time he was in that hospital, without so much as a thank you… No. She had a stable, if unhealthy, system going. He didn’t love her, and she could be comfortable in that.
But if Spike just wanted her… Oh, now that she could do. Faye smirked at her reflection. That she could do very well. Sex was never an issue to Faye. If her body could help her get out of a tight spot, she didn’t hesitate to use it. She probably owed her life to it, several times over. And of course she wanted him. That went without saying. Just thinking about it had kept her up long nights, waiting for him to touch her…
She had to make herself believe that he just wanted sex. Even if that knowledge hurt her more than she really thought it could. It was comfortable, and it was all she had.
So she got ready. Brushed her hair, dabbed a bit of jealously hidden perfume behind her ears, hiked her shorts up just a bit. One chance, she repeated to herself. Just one chance. Faye slipped out of her boots as she left, leaving them just inside her door.
Faye walked down the hall, the swing in her hips carefully calculated should she meet him early. No sign of Spike. His door was shut. She knocked. His reply was muffled, but it didn’t really matter what his response was. She took a deep breath and opened the door.
She crossed the floor, catlike, and in one swift move she was kissing him. He made some weak protest, but she wasn’t going to hear it. Faye opened her shirt. There. That should shut him up.
It hurt. Why did it hurt? Because she didn’t want it? But she did. Goddammit. Why was this so complicated? She just wanted to give him what he wanted, what she wanted… but she knew it meant giving up. So she kept going, kept unbuttoning his shirt, kept forcing herself to believe that he couldn’t love her.
Then he pushed her back. And her beautiful little fallacy failed. She buttoned her shirt and left. As soon as the door shut, Faye ran to her room, her eyes starting to fill with tears. She kicked her boots out of the way, slammed and locked her door, and sank against the door. Faye hugged her knees tight to her chest and sobbed.
What had she done wrong? Did he not want her? Was she wrong about the whole thing? She couldn’t think about it anymore. She just sobbed.
There was a knock behind her head. “Faye, are you in there? It’s me, open up,” said the one voice that she was dying to hear and desperately avoiding.
“Go to hell,” she choked out. Great. Now he knew she was crying.
Spike clutched his head. He could feel another headache coming on. “Let me in, Faye,” he asked, his voice almost pleading. “I just want to talk to you.” And I’d rather not have Jet hear, thanks, he didn’t add.
“So talk,” she answered.
Hell. Spike sighed and sat with his back to the door. “I’m… sorry,” he said, trying not to sound forced. “I just… dammit Faye, why can’t you just let me in?” To his surprise, the door swung open.
Faye sat on the bed, her eyes red and puffy. And Spike was completely lost. It was a new feeling. He sat down beside her and stared at the floor. “I am sorry,” he repeated. “I shouldn’t have.”
Faye stared hard at him. “But you did. And it really messed me up, and what makes you think you have the right to fuck with a person’s mind like that?” she asked him. Now tears were streaming down her face, and she just didn’t care anymore.
“Goddamn, Faye!” he practically shouted at her, turning suddenly to look at her. “You don’t think this has been hard on me too? I almost died, I lost Julia,” Faye flinched visibly at her name, but he continued, “I don’t even know what the hell’s going on in my head, don’t you even try to blame all this on me!” He rested his head in his hand.
She started laughing through her tears. The sound startled Spike. “We’re pathetic,” she said, the tension releasing in her shoulders. To his own surprise, he started to laugh too. There was a long, uncomfortable pause. “I love you, Spike,” Faye told him, her voice flat, defeated.
Spike studied the ceiling. He took a deep breath and slipped his hand into hers. “I… I can’t promise you that I can love you, Faye,” he said, almost choking up.
Faye nodded. “I understand,” she said, wiping her eyes with her free hand. It surprised her when Spike put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. Faye swallowed her tears and put her head on his shoulder.
“So what do we do?” Faye asked him. She felt his shoulders shrug.
“I don’t know,” Spike answered. “I just don’t know.” And there they stayed until the sun was almost up.
Summary: "Faye pulled her mind back from the fog that Spike's kiss had cast over her."
Fandom: Cowboy Bebop
Word Count: 1001
Rating/Warnings: R, language
Pairing: Spike/Faye
A/N: I know, I know, I'm sorry for the cliffhanger, and I'm sorry it was a month between updates. I <3 you all a lot.
She could still feel his mouth on hers, could still taste his kiss, and it was driving her mad.
Faye couldn’t look at him during dinner, because she didn’t know what she was going to see. Would he smile? Would he look away? She finished and left, not saying a word.
She walked to her room, sat down on her bed and really started to think.
Faye pulled her mind back from the fog that Spike’s kiss had cast over her. He couldn’t love her. She wasn’t ready for him to love her. Faye could love Spike; that was different. She had metabolized that. It was part of her life now, and she could deal with it. But the reverse… No. Too much. Too much right now. Her past had come to nothing, then he’d left, and nearly gotten himself killed, and she’d been at his bedside the entire time he was in that hospital, without so much as a thank you… No. She had a stable, if unhealthy, system going. He didn’t love her, and she could be comfortable in that.
But if Spike just wanted her… Oh, now that she could do. Faye smirked at her reflection. That she could do very well. Sex was never an issue to Faye. If her body could help her get out of a tight spot, she didn’t hesitate to use it. She probably owed her life to it, several times over. And of course she wanted him. That went without saying. Just thinking about it had kept her up long nights, waiting for him to touch her…
She had to make herself believe that he just wanted sex. Even if that knowledge hurt her more than she really thought it could. It was comfortable, and it was all she had.
So she got ready. Brushed her hair, dabbed a bit of jealously hidden perfume behind her ears, hiked her shorts up just a bit. One chance, she repeated to herself. Just one chance. Faye slipped out of her boots as she left, leaving them just inside her door.
Faye walked down the hall, the swing in her hips carefully calculated should she meet him early. No sign of Spike. His door was shut. She knocked. His reply was muffled, but it didn’t really matter what his response was. She took a deep breath and opened the door.
She crossed the floor, catlike, and in one swift move she was kissing him. He made some weak protest, but she wasn’t going to hear it. Faye opened her shirt. There. That should shut him up.
It hurt. Why did it hurt? Because she didn’t want it? But she did. Goddammit. Why was this so complicated? She just wanted to give him what he wanted, what she wanted… but she knew it meant giving up. So she kept going, kept unbuttoning his shirt, kept forcing herself to believe that he couldn’t love her.
Then he pushed her back. And her beautiful little fallacy failed. She buttoned her shirt and left. As soon as the door shut, Faye ran to her room, her eyes starting to fill with tears. She kicked her boots out of the way, slammed and locked her door, and sank against the door. Faye hugged her knees tight to her chest and sobbed.
What had she done wrong? Did he not want her? Was she wrong about the whole thing? She couldn’t think about it anymore. She just sobbed.
There was a knock behind her head. “Faye, are you in there? It’s me, open up,” said the one voice that she was dying to hear and desperately avoiding.
“Go to hell,” she choked out. Great. Now he knew she was crying.
Spike clutched his head. He could feel another headache coming on. “Let me in, Faye,” he asked, his voice almost pleading. “I just want to talk to you.” And I’d rather not have Jet hear, thanks, he didn’t add.
“So talk,” she answered.
Hell. Spike sighed and sat with his back to the door. “I’m… sorry,” he said, trying not to sound forced. “I just… dammit Faye, why can’t you just let me in?” To his surprise, the door swung open.
Faye sat on the bed, her eyes red and puffy. And Spike was completely lost. It was a new feeling. He sat down beside her and stared at the floor. “I am sorry,” he repeated. “I shouldn’t have.”
Faye stared hard at him. “But you did. And it really messed me up, and what makes you think you have the right to fuck with a person’s mind like that?” she asked him. Now tears were streaming down her face, and she just didn’t care anymore.
“Goddamn, Faye!” he practically shouted at her, turning suddenly to look at her. “You don’t think this has been hard on me too? I almost died, I lost Julia,” Faye flinched visibly at her name, but he continued, “I don’t even know what the hell’s going on in my head, don’t you even try to blame all this on me!” He rested his head in his hand.
She started laughing through her tears. The sound startled Spike. “We’re pathetic,” she said, the tension releasing in her shoulders. To his own surprise, he started to laugh too. There was a long, uncomfortable pause. “I love you, Spike,” Faye told him, her voice flat, defeated.
Spike studied the ceiling. He took a deep breath and slipped his hand into hers. “I… I can’t promise you that I can love you, Faye,” he said, almost choking up.
Faye nodded. “I understand,” she said, wiping her eyes with her free hand. It surprised her when Spike put his arm around her waist and pulled her close. Faye swallowed her tears and put her head on his shoulder.
“So what do we do?” Faye asked him. She felt his shoulders shrug.
“I don’t know,” Spike answered. “I just don’t know.” And there they stayed until the sun was almost up.
