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sabinelagrandeTitle: Disconnect
Summary: Knowing, doing, and relating are three very different things.
Fandom: Cowboy Bebop
Word Count: 289
Rating/Warnings: PG
Pairing: Spike/Faye
A/N: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
30_kisses. And sometimes inspiration takes you for no reason. I wrote this almost as it stands on paper at lunch, which is highly uncharacteristic. I'm oddly proud of it.
She is sitting, appropriately, in a coffee bar. Spike knew she’d be in a place like this. It’s never anything but bounty hunters and cops in these places. Everybody else knows the stuff will kill you. The bounty hunters and the cops, they know that everything will.
Her food is half-finished, but discarded. A glance tells him why. Typical of places like this, he can’t tell what any of it is. He picks a piece of probable pork off and eats it. She ignores him.
She knows that he is watching as she picks through today’s mots croisés (that phrase comes unbidden when she thinks of them- does she speak French?). She wants to be alone, but says nothing. With that one, being with him is just like being alone.
There’s something untouchable about Faye. She’s incongruous, ephemeral, but concrete and profane in the purest sense. He thinks he could be next to her, be beside her, be inside her, and still not understand.
Spike agitates her, especially today. She isn’t fond of being forcibly reminded of her past, what little of it there is. And now… Whitney was always something she could cling to, something that belonged to her. She could hold him up and say, “This is my story. This is my love.” But now it’s gone.
She wants to cling to Spike, but she knows that she can’t. It would be like keeping darkness in a bottle or trying to catch a flame. Spike is unreachable, fleeting. He is something else, something that can’t fill her loneliness or help her grief. She understands that.
When Spike wordlessly drops a kiss on her unnoticing head and walks out, that is when she realizes that she understands nothing.
Summary: Knowing, doing, and relating are three very different things.
Fandom: Cowboy Bebop
Word Count: 289
Rating/Warnings: PG
Pairing: Spike/Faye
A/N: For
30_kisses. And sometimes inspiration takes you for no reason. I wrote this almost as it stands on paper at lunch, which is highly uncharacteristic. I'm oddly proud of it.She is sitting, appropriately, in a coffee bar. Spike knew she’d be in a place like this. It’s never anything but bounty hunters and cops in these places. Everybody else knows the stuff will kill you. The bounty hunters and the cops, they know that everything will.
Her food is half-finished, but discarded. A glance tells him why. Typical of places like this, he can’t tell what any of it is. He picks a piece of probable pork off and eats it. She ignores him.
She knows that he is watching as she picks through today’s mots croisés (that phrase comes unbidden when she thinks of them- does she speak French?). She wants to be alone, but says nothing. With that one, being with him is just like being alone.
There’s something untouchable about Faye. She’s incongruous, ephemeral, but concrete and profane in the purest sense. He thinks he could be next to her, be beside her, be inside her, and still not understand.
Spike agitates her, especially today. She isn’t fond of being forcibly reminded of her past, what little of it there is. And now… Whitney was always something she could cling to, something that belonged to her. She could hold him up and say, “This is my story. This is my love.” But now it’s gone.
She wants to cling to Spike, but she knows that she can’t. It would be like keeping darkness in a bottle or trying to catch a flame. Spike is unreachable, fleeting. He is something else, something that can’t fill her loneliness or help her grief. She understands that.
When Spike wordlessly drops a kiss on her unnoticing head and walks out, that is when she realizes that she understands nothing.
