Maybe Another Lifetime

by Reia  

xox./

Disclaimer: Cowboy Bebop.  Not.  Mine.  Don't. Sue.  Thanks.

A/N: Yes, it's set after Ep. 26.  Yes, it's Faye/Spike.  Yes, yes, yes.  But hopefully, I've made this an interesting, character-driven story chock full of what you love best about CB, and hopefully, I've also portrayed it in an interesting and original manner.  You decide.  Please give me reviews!  Thanks!

Summary:  Sex, violence, and drama.  Old flames, old friends... it all comes together.  Cats have nine lives.  How many more left?

Prologue - Out of Sight, Out of Mind

Try as she might, Faye couldn't stop herself from shaking.  It was ridiculous, really.  Her entire body was humming -- half from the aftermath, and half from what she could only describe as rising hysteria.

God.  What had she done?

What had she done?

She noticed he hadn't said a word either.  A few seconds earlier, he'd sat up to reach for his damn smokes, and now the bastard was just... just sitting there, his back against the headboards with smoke swirling around his head like a foggy veil.  That bastard... that unfeeling son of a bitch!

She clenched her hands into fists, her nails digging into her palms until it hurt.  She had to get out.  She had to get out of here.

What had she done?

What had she done?

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and got up, cheering herself for how calmly the movement came out to be.  He continued to smoke.  She walked away, without looking back, and headed towards the bathroom.  She closed the door and locked it with a resounding click.

For a few moments, she didn't move.  She laid her head against the doorframe and stood there, trying to get her bearings and her breathing back to normal.  She counted to a hundred slowly in her head.  She was well aware of the silence inside the room, except for the inhaling and exhaling of the cigarette smoke from the other side of the door.  In... and out... just like nothing had happened.

Out of sheer force of will, she forced her legs to reach the bathtub.  With shaky hands she turned the shower on, wincing as cold water pierced her tender skin.  Damn, she was gonna have bruises the next day... She blinked as she realized with horror that tears had gathered in her eyes.  Shit.  No.  Not now.  Not now!  She quickly turned the water on to a higher setting, uncaring that the force was harsh but relishing the noise.  Anything but this awful silence.

And within the thunderous onslaught of the water, he couldn't possibly hear her crying.

Chapter One -  Buy Low, Sell High

Three weeks passed since Spike had appeared from the blue and scaring Jet shitless.  At first, Jet had thought he was hallucinating.  Spike had looked exactly the same way before he'd disappeared for that showdown with Vicious, with nary a scratch.  Then, he'd become angry and suspicious.  Perhaps the man had been simply an evil doppelganger sent in by one of a string of people wanting revenge from the Bebop crew.  When Faye burst in the scene, the situation had gone from bad to worse.  She'd screamed like a psychotic banshee and Jet had seriously thought she was going to collapse.

"What the fuck?"  had been the first graceful words to escape the bounty huntress's mouth.

"Holy shit, woman, keep your panties on," Spike had snarled. "It really is me.  What the hell do I need to do to prove it?"

Faye's response had been to grab her gun from her holster to point it straight at him.  "Start thinking.  You have five seconds to prove yourself.  Five...four..."

Jet's gaze had ping-ponged back and forth during the exchange.  Maybe there was a minute possibility that this was Spike.  "Faye, just wait a minute--"

"This is ridiculous," Spike had sighed. "Put the gun down, Faye."

"Three... two..."

"Faye!" Jet had exclaimed.

The next few moments happened so fast, Jet wasn't sure exactly how they had transpired.  A shot had been fired, but the man who claimed to be Spike was still standing.  However, Faye's face had paled even further, and soon, she'd dropped down on her knees.  Jet's heart had leapt to his throat, quite certain that Faye had been wounded.  But as he'd rushed towards her, he noticed no blood.  Faye's gaze had remained solidly to the floor, wide and unblinking.  Faye's arm had still remained outstretched.  Jet had followed his gaze and realized that her gun was missing from her grip.  Looking up, Jet had been startled to notice Spike pointing his gun towards Faye's still figure.  Jet had continued staring at him with shock as Spike replaced his gun on his holster, calmly walked over to somewhere behind them and retrieved Faye's gun.  He walked past them again, plopped the gun on a nearby box and continued his way towards the kitchen.

"Hallelujah!  Do I smell beef tacos?" Spike had called from the kitchen.

And that had been that.  

The weeks that followed were similar to the first day he'd come in.  Tension hung damply in the air, but everyone went about their daily business as if a year hadn't passed since they last saw Spike and thought him dead.  Sometimes, Faye would have her strange "freak out" moments and Spike didn't seem to be... all there.  But all in all, it was back to business on the Bebop.  No one spoke about the past.  The scant moments Faye would demand to know, and Jet privately ask Spike where the hell he'd been, Spike would clam up and Jet could almost physically feel a barrier erect.

In any case, they didn't have time for that.  The reason Spike returned, as he'd explained that first day, was because of a bounty.  Jet wasn't at all surprised.  Spike mentioned he would have gone about it himself, if the bounty hadn't been so complicated and so large.  Jet wondered if Spike would ever have returned or said anything if the bounty hadn't existed...

"Mr. X," Spike had explained. "That's what they called him.  No one knows how he looks like, how old he is, where he was last seen.  But apparently he's the ringleader in a secret high-end escort service, under the guise of a gentleman's club."

"How much?" Faye had asked.

Spike had ignored her and continued, "The club's in Venus, under the New Vegas strip.  It's called The Garden of Eden, or just simply, The Garden."

"How much?" Faye had repeated.  Spike had flashed her a look of irritation.

"300 million woolong."

"Shit," Jet had whistled and noticed Faye shifting her weight.  Over the year, under Jet's constant influence and after what had happened to Spike, Faye had become a more careful bounty hunter, weighing odds and thinking ahead of herself.  Faye had said nothing, and had rubbed her chin thoughtfully.

"Something's not right," Faye had countered, puncturing her sentence with a tap on her cheek. "300 million?  For what, a no-name high class pimp from a glorified brothel?"

"Faye's got a point," Jet had agreed.  For 300 million woolong, the man must be tied with mass murder, government conspiracy, or irreparable destruction.  Or all three.  The last man they heard to have such a high price had been Vincent with the virus fiasco -- which, Jet remembered, he even considered was out of his depth.  It had made him feel nervous.

"Does it really matter?" Spike had returned, relaxing against the couch as if it was the old days again. "We find the guy and get 300 million.  Who cares what else he's into."

"For 300 million woolong, I care!" Faye shot back. "This is funny, I never heard of such a bounty.  It wasn't even on Big Shot!"

Jet had to agree and glared at the relaxed bounty hunter, sternly. "Right.  A 'Mr.X' with no stats and a freaking bounty practically worth the entire New Vegas strip and it wasn't even featured on Big Shot.  It doesn't add up."

"That show doesn't know every huge bounty head.  Doesn't matter where I heard it, as long as it actually exists.  That's where you guys come in," Spike had explained, the first note of impatience entering his tone. "We figure out who this guy is, when and where he'll be next at.  Then I'll bring him in."

He was already heading for the couch.  He sat on it like he'd never left the place.

Faye had coughed at Spike's last comment. "Excuse me.  You bring him in?  So, what, we're just your fucking info rats?  No, thanks!"

Spike's response to that was to roll over on the couch and turn his back towards them. "God, Jet, why didn't you kick this wench out at your first chance a long time ago?  I'm going to sleep."

Faye had become enraged at that point and looked ready to pummel Spike to his real death but Jet had decided to let it slide for a while.  "Let him go, Faye.  We'll get more answers later."

And three weeks later, where they were presently, Jet wondered when they were gonna get said answers.  At least, answers about Spike's goings-ons the past year, why he'd never contacted them to tell them he'd been alive all along, why... There were too many questions.  Fortunately, the question of Mr. X had been at least partially solved.  It only took three weeks of searching, hard detective work, a lot of manipulating and some lucky guesses.  At first, Jet wasn't sure if Mr. X even existed and who was financing the secret bounty -- Spike assured them Mr. X existed and that he knew who was financing the bounty and they didn't need to know.  Jet didn't push any more, knowing how stubborn Spike could be.  

Jet wasn't sure if any of them had ever worked so long on just one bounty.  But it would be all worth it.  Tonight, the Bebop crew was going to bag the mysterious Mr. X.

Jet stared at the long-lost bounty hunter and the shrew fixing up his tie, and sighed, hoping against hope that no one screwed up tonight.

Faye was nervous for more than one reason that night.  One, this could possibly be their only shot at Mr. X.  Two, it took them three weeks to get to this point.  Three, they couldn't find any more information about Mr. X beyond the Gentleman's Club, so they still don't know what the man was really being hooked for.  

And Four, Spike.

Spike, who was glaring down at her, impatient for her to finish fiddling with his tie.  Faye dropped her hands suddenly, and stepped back, forcing herself to calm down.  She regarded the lanky bounty hunter, but try as she might, she couldn't stop her pulse from increasing.  Damn, but he did look gorgeous.  Head to toe in a swanky suit ensemble, he looked devastating.  In direct contrast, his hair was still in a wild disarray.

"God's sake.  Do I have to do everything for you?" Faye huffed, rubbing her palms together and reaching towards the tangle he called "hair."

"You're not touching my hair," he warned, taking a step back.  "How would you like it if I messed up your 'do?"  And to emphasize his point, he reached a dangerous hand towards her well-done coif.

Faye swatted his arm away and glared, hopefully looking like she was really angry at him.  Inside, she thought how silly they both were being about the entire thing.  "Don't even joke.  The difference between my hair and yours is like the difference between a beautiful Persian rug and a trampled on shag carpet."

"Oi!  You two!"  Jet called from the side. "We're leaving in five minutes.  Think both of you can sit still until then?  Faye, forget the hair.  It's a lost cause."  As he shuffled towards his room, Faye could hear him mutter under his breath, "Children."

Faye stuck her tongue out at Jet's retreating back in an old childish impulse she couldn't help but release when Jet was around.  He was so serious and all-knowing all the time that it just seemed natural for Faye to rebel against it.  All of a sudden, a prickly sensation tickled Faye's skin -- the way it always reacted whenever she felt someone's eyes on her.  She suppressed a shudder.  And she knew exactly who was staring at her.  She just had to pretend it didn't affect her in the least.

"Seriously, Spike," Faye began, proud at how natural she sounded. "You can't show up in The Garden with your hair like that."  Boldly, she turned and stared right back into his eyes.  He had to know she wasn't a weakling -- that she wasn't prey to his false charms.  His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, the same way it did that night -- Stop it, Faye! she scolded herself.  Forget that night.

Forget it.

"Faye."  His voice was quiet, low enough for only her ears to hear.  Faye would have killed him with her bare hands, if the urge to kiss him wasn't as strong.

"We don't have to slather on a lot of hair gook, either," Faye said brightly, abruptly making her way towards the bathroom. "Just a little, all right?  Humour me, here."

"Sorry."

Whispered words never held so much weight.  Faye's steps faltered but she continued to walk towards the bathroom.  

"Sorry about what?"  A tinge of anger she couldn't control entered her tone, but she pasted the smile on her face as if nothing had occurred.  It had been one week.  One week of pure torture, of silences, of nonchalance, of her world falling apart.  And it took one week for the bastard to say anything regarding... what had happened.  And, just like Spike, he took the most important night of their careers up to this point to spring it on her.

She briskly walked back towards Spike, whose eyes were no longer playful.  They were serious and piercing.  She didn't care, she told herself.  She dipped her hands in the pomade and rubbed her palms together.  She proceeded to fluff his hair to a more manageable style with her fingers.  She knew he was still staring at her, their bodies almost touching... Faye's hands started to tremble, their proximity finally taking its toll.  She jumped back, as if burnt.

"Faye."  This time, his voice was cooler, more detached. "We need to talk about it."

"What's to talk about, Spike?" Her voice was a hushed hiss.  What would make the night more perfect would be if Jet knew what had occurred.  She simply didn't want to talk about it, but Spike grasped her shoulder to make sure she was listening.

"No regrets," he said simply.  Faye's emerald greens meshed with his chocolate browns.  "All right?  I have no regrets."

I bet you don't, Faye thought bitterly.  He got what he wanted.  Hell, she got what she wanted.  Who had regrets?  They were adults.  Comrades, even.  That night, they both knew what they were doing.

Exorcising spirits.

"It's never going to happen ever again," Faye said curtly, jerking away from his grasp.  Spike's demeanor, if possible, got even more cool.

"That goes without saying," Spike returned, without changing the inflection in his tone.

"It'd been a while, you know," Faye went on, trying to feign the same nonchalance Spike had on his face, trying to regain her last remnants of self-respect.  She envied his control.  Or maybe there wasn't anything to control.  He just didn't feel anything for her at all. "It was nothing.  Women have needs, too.  Case closed.  Let's not make this weird, okay?"

"Of course," Spike nodded.  All at once, he was business again.  Faye hated him. "So, when we get to The Garden, you know exactly where to go.  I'll call you over, and you do your big grand entrance."

"I know the plan, Spike.  We went through it a million times already," Faye said.  A loud movement on the side caught Faye's attention, and she saw Jet emerge from his room, looking elegantly dashing in his own way.  Boy, they sure knew how to steal the right clothes.

"Wow.  Jet actually looks like a human being tonight!" Faye proceeded to waggle her brows comically.

"I feel like a penguin," Jet sighed.  As he came closer, Spike patted Jet's non-existent beer belly.

"You're already halfway to looking like one, my friend," Spike smirked.  Jet glared at him.  Faye wondered when Spike and her Oscars were coming in the mail.  They had pretty much mastered the art of switching emotions at the drop of a hat.

"I think we should go over the plan just one more time," Jet told them. "Just to be sure."

"All right, all right, fine."  Faye threw her hands up in the air. "Let's just rehash the entire scheme for the 'nth' time."

Faye was bored the entire time Jet went through the motions once again.  Yes, yes.  Spike and Jet would enter The Garden first.  Spike was acting as her would-be pimp -- oh, sorry, agent -- and Jet would be a new patron to The Garden.  Faye was supposed to enter five minutes after, hovering around and chatting up with some random men, working the ol' Faye Valentine magic.  Blah blah blah...  Both Faye and Jet were to gather information about Mr. X and his whereabouts.  Spike was to gather a small group of men, after securing a meeting with Mr. X and introduce Faye like she was the best thing that has happened in The Garden for a while.  Yawn.

Faye already knew The Garden by heart.  She'd posed as a random waitress and walked around the grounds several times.  The men were all of distinguished nature and screamed money.  The women that hovered the place, Faye was surprised to note, were extremely beautiful.  It was as if she had walked in on a model shoot -- all of them were legs, and cheekbones, and ample busoms.  Faye, even with her own admirable assets, caught herself with bouts of insecurity when surrounded by them.  After listening in on some conversations, she also realized they were very educated and excellent conversationalists.  The Garden wasn't just a high-class brothel, it was the brothel.

It was through various hours of listening in and chatting up with patrons that she found out certain facts about the mysterious Mr. X -- the man was somewhere around his mid-to-to late twenties, possibly early thirties.  He was known basically to turn a bottom-barrel whorehouse to a huge multi-million woolong enterprise.  He was very mysterious and no one knew exactly how he looked -- the descriptions varied and were vague -- hardly showed up at The Garden except on random inspections.  Spike had somehow found out that Mr. X was scheduled to be at The Garden tonight, which was why everything had to go perfectly as planned or else it could be their last chance.  The man was brilliant, but apparently, he also had a weakness for tall, leggy brunettes with a nice ass, and a face preferably of Asiatic features.  Faye learned that once in a while, when The Garden employed a woman of that description, the young lady was lucky enough to have a private meeting with the elusive Mr. X.  Faye realized she was pretty much everything Mr. X wanted.  The plan was basically to get Mr. X interested in Faye, where she will pretend to seduce him before hog-tying him on the bed, and Jet, after she reveals her whereabouts, will help gather both of them up.  Spike was to keep the men outside company, or provide distraction if need be when the time came to make their exit.

"You got that?" Jet finished.  Faye absentmindedly scratched her side.

"Got it.  Don't worry, Jet, this guy is in the bag," Faye assured him, confidently.  Their plan had to work.  With that much money, Faye could finally say to hell with the Bebop.  And to hell with Spike.

"You know what would make this plan even better?" Spike said, thumbing the exit. "If we actually get our asses in gear."

They proceeded to do just that.

Faye hated him.  That was fine with Spike.  He didn't much like the shrew at the moment, either.  She could be such a huge bitch.

As they made their way through the New Vegas strip towards The Garden -- they'd "acquired" a beautiful luxury vehicle, with Jet in another car -- Spike stole a few glances towards Faye.  The woman was a walking fantasy and a nightmare all rolled into one.  Especially the way she was dressed tonight: head to toe in expensive black silk, strapless, and its hem hiked up definitely above scandalous inches over her knee.  Her face was expertly painted that night -- no overdone rouge in the lips, her face pale and creamy, to match her shoulders.  She looked amazing.  His grip on the steering wheel tightened.

It'd just been sex.

Nothing more.

He looked over at her again at the same time she turned her head.  Their gazes locked.  She looked... she looked...

Shit.

Stop looking at me like that!

Julia.  Think of Julia.  

At the thought of his fallen angel, he turned his head abruptly and focused it back on the road.

Faye hated him.  That was fine with Spike.  He hated Faye Valentine with all his heart.

Getting into The Garden proved to be no problem at all, much to Jet's great relief.  However, Faye and Spike must have had another fight because the two of them were radiating tension like nothing else.  Jet suppressed a sigh.  Spike and Faye always got on each other’s nerves, but these days it seemed as if one of them had crossed the line somewhere from playful bickering to... Jet didn't know where.  But somewhere bad.  Hopefully, they were mature enough too keep a cool head during the entire operation.

At times like these, Jet would think about Ed, and even the dog Ein.  Whenever Faye and Spike went on their childish tirades, it was ironic that the most mature of the Bebop crew would be a strange young girl, and her even stranger dog.  Well, technically, Ein was Spike's dog, but Spike would have none of that.  Ed would keep him company whenever Faye and Spike went on their missions or some other, and without Ed, Jet realized how hard it was to get much-needed information that Ed seemed to whip out from nowhere.

On the side, Jet had been silently searching for the fiery-haired little imp but to no avail.  Faye, at one time, was in on searching for Ed, too -- apparently, despite Faye's constant declarations of annoyance towards the little girl, Faye thought she had a responsibility to find out if Ed had made it all right.  "If she's still a freak," Faye had told Jet.  But Jet had been "partners" with the bounty huntress too long to not know Faye had a soft spot for the girl and possibly missed her as much as he did.  And the dog... Ein knew how to play a mean Shougi game.

Jet flicked a glance at his wrist, checking the time.  Hm.  In about ten minutes, there would be some live entertainment.  It was prime opportunity for Spike to schmooze his way through the businessmen and somehow seal a meeting between Faye and Mr. X.  And time for Faye and him to get more information out of these sex-starved men.

Faye was bored.  No wonder the men had to pay women to bang them -- even if they were good looking, they couldn't find a decent conversation if it ran and bit them in the ass!  Thank God for money and desperation, Faye thought dryly.  Faye hoped all this trouble for the night was worth it.  So far, she couldn't get much concrete information out of any of them -- besides their life stories and how their wives treated them so poorly, their children were all demons, blah blah... So sad.  Faye resisted the urge to choke herself or the patrons, just so one of them didn't have to hear them yammering away about how sad and lonely their lives were and all they had were their bagfuls of money to comfort them.

Boo hoo hoo.

She smiled politely at the latest schmuck she struck a conversation with and decided to leave by making an excuse to go to the ladies room.  When all else fails, use the classic escape line, Faye thought to herself, as the last guy just didn't seem to want to shut up.  As she flew past the crowd, a bright color made her pause.

No.

It couldn't be.

Could it?

Faye twisted around towards the back of The Garden and -- yes!  Her eyes didn't deceive her at all.  She watched with open-mouthed shock as Ed bounced happily behind a woman with wild, dark pink, spiky hair.  Faye's eyes narrowed.  All right.  A punk girl, and her Ed inside a Gentlemen's Club...?  What the hell?

Faye started towards Ed, who hadn't noticed Faye at all.  Faye quickened her pace, determined to find out what was going on.  In her haste, she didn't notice a figure in front of her and she managed to crash into him rather violently.

"Hey!"

"Sorry," Faye said distractedly, brushing his jacket and her briskly.  "So sorry."

When Faye looked up again, she saw Ed's retreating back as she disappeared right behind the huge stage in the middle of the ballroom-esque architecture of the building.

"Shit!" Faye snapped, angrily.  The man she'd run into started.

"Excuse me?"

Faye waved him away and proceeded to leave, but a large hand clamped onto her arm.

"Hey, let go of me, what are you doing?!" Faye exclaimed.  She looked up and realized the bulky man didn't look like a patron -- more like a security guard in "plain clothes" suit.  

FUCK.

"Uh huh, mm hm," the man was saying, his hand pressed to his ear.  Dammit.  He was speaking to his authorities!  She had to begin Operation Clueless Skanky Girl.

"I don't understand!  What's going on?  Did I do something wrong?" Faye asked, in a soft and high voice.  She fluttered her lashes for emphasis.  The security man loosened his grip but maintained his hold.

"No, I'm sorry, miss.  Don't worry," he assured her. "We just need to speak to you privately in the back, if you will."

"I-In the back?" Faye's tone turned saccharine. "What do you mean?  I... I didn't do anything!"

"Of course you didn't, miss.  The boss just wants to see you."  The offensive man paused and winked. "If you know what I mean."

"B-boss?"  Faye suppressed a shout of glee.  Did she have the charm or what?!  "Would that be... Mr..."

"X," the man supplied. "Yes.  He likes girls like you."

"L-like me?  But I'm not all that pretty.  I mean, in comparison to the others..."

"Of course you are, miss!  Very pretty indeed.  Sexy... if you will," he added, as if he'd stepped the boundaries now.

"Oh.  Oh, my.  Oh dear, oh my.  I'm... I'm speechless."

"Yes.  They told me to escort you to... one of the private chambers, miss," the man continued, after clearing his throat.  Faye giggled girlishly.  Well.  Perhaps they didn't need Spike after all.  So this was going against their dramatic and well laid out plans... but que sera sera, she told herself.  It was time to improvise.

"Well, then, let's not keep him waiting, now, shall we?" Faye tittered, pressing herself lightly to his side.  The man had the grace to blush.

This was going easier than she thought.

What the hell was she doing?

Spike watched in disbelief as Faye hooked her arm on some bumbling oaf and had him lead her through some thick wooden doors.  Where was she going?

Spike turned his head and noticed Jet looking quite panicked as well.  Jet gave him a helpless shrug and pointed towards the doors.  Spike shook his head.  He had to go get her.  Great.  The plan was ruined even before it barely started.  Spike motioned slightly with his hands to tell Jet to stay put while Spike went to look for Faye.  He'd never felt so disappointed in one person in his entire life.  How could she be so selfish?  Three weeks of actual hard work, and she couldn't stay put in one room!  She was so oblivious to the danger she was in -- even if she was aware, Spike decided she probably wouldn't have cared either way.

Perhaps if he got her before she did any more damage, they still could pull this off.  A little delay never hurt... For Faye's sake, Spike hoped that was true.

"In here?"  Faye was still using a kittenish voice, and pointing childishly towards the smooth doorway.  The security guard -- Stan, he'd revealed -- opened the door for her and waited for her to step in.

"Right there," Stan nodded. "You just make yourself comfortable, miss."

"I'll try," Faye grinned. "Good-bye, Stan!  it was a pleasure meeting you!"

Stan nodded, entering the room more fully and closing the door behind her.  She listened until the sound of his footsteps disappeared, then started to laugh quite loudly.  She'd been right all along.  All that stupid planning had been useless.  Nothing that a little Faye magic to fix a situation.

"Something funny?"

Faye gasped audibly and whirled around, shocked to see someone was in the room.  Damn!  Was it Mr. X?  Did she make such a huge fool out of herself he wanted to kick her out?  Well... whatever the case was, at least Faye was going to get a good look at the man .  They could work on that.

"Did I startle you?"

The man's voice was warm and velvety, a little rough.  Bedroom voice.  Faye resisted the urge to roll her eyes.  She squinted, because the room was dimly lit and he hovered over the shadows.

"I'm sorry." Faye decided to drop the Airhead Skank act and replace it with the Innocent Virgin facade. "It's just... this... I'm new to The Garden.  You... you would be my first customer.  Mr... Mr..."

The man started to laugh.  To her irritation, Faye noted that the sound wasn't at all unpleasant.  It was actually quite... nice.  Faye clenched her hands to her sides, but continued to smile.  Gee, all that bullshit with Spike actually came in handy now... "Is there something amusing to that, Mr...?"

"Faye, stop it." The voice was clearer, this time, but still as warm and smooth as velvet. "I don't have time for games."

At that, Faye knew her cover was broken.  Her demeanor quickly changed.  She straightened her back and crossed her arms. "Who are you, coward?  Hiding behind in the dark.  Real classy there, bud.  If I know who you are, why don't you step out and refresh my memory?"  She paused. "Where's Mr. X?"

"I had no idea you'd become a bounty hunter, Faye.  Strong."  His voice lowered. "Dangerous.  It's sexy.  I like it.  When I found out, I wasn't at all surprised."

"Thank you very much, but why don't you," Faye began, then removed a small gun hanging on a garter under her dress.  She pointed it towards the shadows. "Come out, so I can play bounty hunter and you play, do-what-Faye-says-or-she'll-shoot.  Fun, hm?"

He laughed again.  Faye removed the safety and cocked the gun for emphasis.  Bastard.  The laughing stopped.

"No need to become hostile," he said, slowly.  He took a step forward and into the light.

The gun in her hand fell to the carpet with a dull thud.

"No..."

He smiled at her, softly. "Hello, doll face."

Chapter 2 -- Deja Vu All Over Again

Jet rubbed his face wearily with his hand.  First, he thought he'd been hallucinating -- he could have sworn he saw Ed!  But in a Gentleman's Club?  That had made no sense.  He'd rubbed his eyes and when he looked at where she had been, she was gone.  He decided that his search for the little girl must have fried his brain.  Now he was seeing Ed everywhere!

And second, Faye went off to do who knows what!  They told her strictly to stick to the plan, no matter what else cropped up.  Despite the fact none of them knew exactly why Mr. X was worth 300 million but decided to go after him anyway, Jet and Spike agreed that only an airtight plan would make the catch as painless as possible -- so whatever else Mr. X was into wouldn't get in the way.  Faye insisted that that the best course was to be flexible in times like these, but with such a wary bounty and without all the straight facts, it would be stupid to just head into the game without prior thought.

Which was just what Faye seemed to want to do.

The light suddenly went out, and Jet gasped despite himself.  Suddenly, there was a spark, and the entire place was lit up in a beautiful nighttime display.  Clapping began, which slowly crescendoed to a huge cheer.  Jet started as a spotlight came onto the stage.  In the middle stood a dazzling woman, with a shock of pink hair.

"Hello, boys," she purred.  Her voice was actually perfect, since she was dressed like a sparkling cat: sleek and lithe and glittering all over the place.  Yow.

The clapping escalated, punctured with hoots and hollers.  A small beeping distracted Jet and he realized his communicator was going off.  Jet looked about and moved behind a plant in the shadows to check the message.

"Jet, change of plans," Spike said.  "I saw Faye enter one of the private chambers.  I think... I hope to hell it's because Mr. X is behind there."

"OK, so what now?"

"Well, we switch rolls.  You stay there and make sure everything's all right.  Be prepared if we need you for distraction.  And I'll carry out what you needed to do and bag the bastard."

Jet sighed with relief. "Well, shit.  Faye was right all along."

"Let's not go that far, Jet," Spike returned, dryly. "The shrew just knows how to improvise."

"OK, everything seems fine out here for now," Jet told him, looking back admiringly at the half-woman, half-kitten on the stage singing a sad tune.

"I bet," Spike snorted. "Keep focused, Jet."

Jet rolled his eyes.  Spike telling him to keep focused?  Now that was a first.  "We're wasting time.  Get the guy and let's get out."

"Later."

Faye hastily bent down to retrieve her weapon, but he was already there before her.  He raised the weapon up and pointed it at her, and she took a hasty step back with her arms raised.  He sighed, cocked a lever, and the bullets of the gun fell to the ground.

"I'm not here to kill you, babe," he went on, then dropped the gun.

"This isn't... this isn't possible!" Faye got out.  "Xander--"

"I know it's impossible," the man called Xander agreed.  He shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets.  He was wearing an expensive shirt tucked into his slacks, the same way Spike went about whenever he decided to go casual -- except his shirt was a deep, dark blue instead of the yellow Spike wore and Xander was also wearing a black silk tie to complement the shirt.  Faye couldn't help but notice he hadn't changed since she had last seen him: still as handsome as ever, with his dirty blonde hair in a general clean-cut manner with some loose bangs brushing against his forehead for fun.  This was exactly how she remembered him: smooth and controlled, with an undeniable wild streak.

"But here I am.  And here you are, for that matter," he returned. "You shouldn't even be possible.  The fact you're walking, alone, is miracle enough."  He slowly stepped towards her until they were almost touching.  He reached out a hand and tucked her hair behind her ear.  "The miracle of modern science."  He leaned forward, whispering in her ear. "You smell great, doll."

Faye blushed and pushed him away, making him laugh again.

"All right, all right," Xander smirked, charmingly.  "You want explanations.  You'll get them.  But first -- a drink."

"I'm not thirsty."

"Sure?"  Xander was already hovering over a table arrangement with a champagne basket. "Isn't this cause for celebration?  It isn't everyday you re-unite with your high school sweetheart."

Spike whistled quietly as he walked through the corridors.  It was like the hallway of a fancy hotel.  Slightly in front of him, he noticed a wealthy-looking man with his arm around a beautiful woman emerging from a room.  Spike continued to walk calmly, making mental notes of where the security alarms were as well as the forbidding looking tuxedo-clad guards at the exits.

"Hey, watch it!!" the wealthy man cried, when Spike cannoned into him.

"Whoopsie, clumsy of me!" he grinned, apologetically.  He winked at the beautiful woman who blushed furiously.  After the wealthy man flashed him a dirty look and his escort fussed over him, Spike fingered the bedroom key he'd just filched.  They walked away, still fussing, and Spike continued whistling down the corridor.  

Room. 237.  Perfect.  All the rooms must be similar, so he would somehow figure out how to enter the one Faye was in when she finally called him.  He'd seen her enter one of the rooms not too far from the key he had now so maybe he could sneak in through the vent?  Or was that too old school and obvious...?

He found the room without any trouble, and slipped the key into the lock.  As he entered the room, he decided that whoever this Mr.X was, he sure as hell spared no expense to satisfy his guests.  Spike had expected something out of a porno catalogue -- something loud, red, leather-y and a bit confining.  Instead, the room was huge -- it resembled more like a swanky apartment than a one-night hotel room.  As he entered, he noticed a small kitchen, a living room area with a glass circular dining table to the side and two seats, of course.  He inspected the place further and found the luxurious bathroom complete with hot tub.  And, of course, everything was done in a contemporary yet welcoming design, in warm, mood-setting colours.

Shit.  A guy could live and die in a place like this.

Spike noticed an open bottle of champagne on the side and decided to pour himself a drink.  Might as well get something out of this job while he was there.  He drank the glass in one gulp and wondered if the place had anything harder... he grabbed a handful of nuts from a crystal bowl and popped some in his mouth.

Well.  There was nothing else he could really do except sit here and wait until Faye gave him the get-go.  He plopped himself in front of the couch and turned on the flat-screen TV.  Just like home.

He frowned.  When did he start thinking of the Bebop as home?  It disturbed Spike; he'd never considered any place permanent enough to call "home."  Just as Spike was turning the thought over his head, his communicator beeped.  Spike checked his watch.  Geez.  Ten minutes.  Faye was a fast worker; he'd give her that.

However, the face on the screen wasn't Faye.  Jet stared back at him with a nervous expression.

"Spike.  We've got trouble."

Faye drummed her fingers against the glass table as Xander placed a mouth-watering steak dinner in front of her.  Neither of them had spoken a word since Xander ordered them dinner.  Faye felt a little guilty.  The man was worth 300 million woolong, and all she could do was sit there, eat his food and drink his wine.

But it was a damn good steak! Faye thought to herself as she attacked her meal with relish.  It was only after she was halfway through her meal that she noticed that Xander had hardly touched his, and was leaning on the table with his elbows and his chin resting against his hands.

"It's rude to put your elbows on the table," Faye said haughtily, grasping for anything to say.  Xander smiled faintly.

"You eat like it's your last meal on Earth," Xander said.

"Correction.  Venus."

"Right, right," Xander nodded. "Sometimes I forget... this entire galaxy.  It takes getting used to.  We used to think that Earth was the only habitable place."  He took a sip of his red wine. "Ironic that out of all the planets, it's considered the least habitable."

"Things change," Faye shrugged.  She gulped the glass of wine greedily.

"So do people, for that matter," Xander said, quietly.  Faye slowly lowered her glass.

"By that, I'm guessing you mean you," Faye returned.

"By that, I mean everyone.  You, me."  He paused. "Didn't one man say change is inevitable?  The only thing certain in this world is death and taxes."

Faye buttered her toast as she stared Xander straight in the eye.  "Not even that these days."

"Miracle of modern science," Xander repeated for the second time that night.  He smiled softly. "I love watching you eat.  Very... sensual."

Faye snorted, trying not to succumb to Xander's easy charm.  The last time she did that in high school, she'd lost her virginity, and then ended up a dumped, pathetic heap.  "Says the man to the woman with gravy on her face."

He reached out before Faye could react and wiped the corner of her mouth with his thumb.  His hand lingered for a second too long, and Faye sat rooted to her spot.  She flashed him an icy look.  Men have always tried to smooth talk their way out of a situation with her.  Not going to work.

"I'm still turning you in."

"Are you now?"  Xander whispered, his face against his hand again.

"You're worth 300 million woolong."

"Hm.  That's a lot of money.  I feel special."

"You shouldn't.  Over the years, the criminals have gotten worse.  You're pretty enough that one of them might want to make you their bitch."

Xander barked out a laugh, startling Faye. "God, that's what I missed about you, Faye.  You're a one-of-a-kind woman.  No one would even have the balls to say something like that to me."

Faye grew serious.  "Why are you even here, Xander?  You should be dead or at least, geriatric!"  She threw her hands in the air and clicked her tongue. "What are you into?  How'd you get into so much trouble?  The last 300 million bounty was on a guy who tried to destroy the world.  Is that what you want to do?"

He laughed again. "Oh, nothing as dramatic."  He sighed, reaching into his pocket.  Faye stiffened.  He looked at her, lifting a brow and shaking his head.  "I'm not armed, doll."  He raised his hand to reveal a silver-plated cigarette case.  He popped it open and presented her with one.  Faye narrowed her eyes then shrugged, accepting a drag.  He took one himself.

"I'll tell you a secret, Faye," he said, whipping a match from nowhere and lighting it with a flick of his thumb.  Damn, the man was smooth, Faye thought as Xander lit her smoke, then his.  He inhaled deeply and breathed out to the side.  The food, the wine, the smokes... Xander was really pulling out all the big guns tonight, Faye mused.

"Well?" Faye prompted, taking a quick puff herself.  Oh, yeah.  That was great.  They'd ran out of money to buy smokes for the month and Spike wouldn't even give her one of his.  The bastard.  She shook herself.  Don't think about Spike.  It'd only upset you.

"What's the big secret?" Faye went on.  Xander stared her straight in the eye.

"There is no bounty."

Silence.

"Say again?"

"It was all a set-up.  There is no bounty on my head."

Spike heard a scream and a crash.  Voices in the background began to escalate in volume.

"Jet, what the hell is going on!" Spike demanded.  Jet's face went back and forth towards the communicator and the chaos behind him.

"There's a fight.  Some guy started a fight over Kitty,"  Jet explained.

"Someone started a fight over a cat?"

"Yes -- I mean, no!" Jet cried.  "I mean, Kitty's a woman.  The one that was on stage a couple of moments ago."

"So what the hell do you want me to do about it?"

"Get Faye and X and get the hell out of here -- now!  We're wasting time!"  Jet lowered his communicator so that Spike could see a bit of Jet's leg and some upside-down fighting in the background.

"Jet?  Jet!  What are you doing?  What's--"

"Gotta go, Spike.  Looks like Kitty might need some help."

"JET!  Dammit, man, what are--"

The communicator screen turned black.  Spike punched the couch in frustration.  Well, shit.  Why didn't anything ever go as planned?  He sighed, smirking to himself.  Not that he truly expected anything to, with this bunch of misfits he banded with.

But Spike was a man of action, a man who thought quickly on his feet.  Being prepared for the unexpected was what kept him alive all this time.

Faye took a deep breath.  Did he really think she would fall for such an easy lie?  Apparently, her disbelief was so blatant on her face that Xander spoke before she could.

"We were both victims, Faye.  You and I," he began earnestly.

"What are you talking about?"

"They put me to sleep too, Faye."  This time, when he laughed, there was no humour in it.  Faye's hand automatically went to her mouth and she felt sick.  The time after she'd been "revived" had been the worst in her life.

"A few years after you had your shuttle accident... I got myself into a horrible car accident. Thought it wasn't an accident.  Somebody wanted me dead."  He took a puff of his smoke. "Bomb in the porsche.  Or something."  He shrugged. "You remember the porsche, Faye?  We used to ride down the road for hours with the top down for no reason at all."  He sighed.  "Anyway.  The next thing I know, I wake up at a hospital with gunk all around me, and those lights buzzing around like...fucking... old robot movies?  Star Battle?  Galaxy Wars?"

"Star Wars," Faye supplied quietly, reeling over the strange turn of events.

"Yeah, Star Wars."  He grinned.  "You, too?"

"Something like that."  Faye frowned. "Who wanted you dead, Xander?"

"I'll get to that," Xander promised.  Abruptly, he placed his hand over hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.  "I wanted to die, you know.  When they brought me back.  I wished my family had let me die."

Despite herself, tears pricked Faye's eyes.  Remembering that time of confusion and doubt, of friendly faces betraying her and taking advantage of her vulnerability, always made Faye angry beyond words.  Like Xander had just said, there were times she wished herself dead -- a person without an identity might as well be, she had thought.

Xander understood.  She stared at him.

"You got your memory back."

"Yeah.  A couple of months ago, actually."  He snorted. "It only took me around three years to get it to kick in."  He placed her hand into his open palm, and his other hand over it, enveloping it with his warmth.  "You were one of the things I remembered first and foremost.  You know what's funny?  I think they started doing a whole bunch of resuscitations the entire week, because... I think.  No... I remember that you were in the hospital when I came to.  I didn't know who you were then.  But... when I got my memory back, I knew.  I knew it was you."

"Xander..."

"You're the only one left, Faye," he said, clutching her hand. "You and I.  We're the only ones left from our past.  Everyone else is dead or dying... we're like--"

"--ghosts."  Faye barely whispered the word.

Xander smiled slowly and nodded. "Yes.  That's exactly it.  In and out of everyday life, barely noticeable but yet still present.  Of this world, but not.  Existing but not really."  He butted his smoke out in the ashtray.  "Do you believe in fate, Faye?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... this.  Our meeting."  He released her hand to take a sip of his drink.  "It's obvious you have your memory back.  I wasn't sure if you had.  But I'm guessing this isn't something that happened instantaneously."

"I just remembered everything... a year ago."

Xander nodded.  "But before that... you went under a different name, did you not?  Poker Alice?"

Faye straightened her back.  "What do you know about that?"

Xander laughed. "Nothing.  Except that you bet your stakes just a couple of buildings away from The Garden.  I even browsed through the place a few times before.  Imagine.  Both of us were just inches away from each other and not knowing."

"And that's what you call fate?"

"Isn't it?"  He started ticking things off with his fingers. "We were both awoken the same week.  We both 'worked' on the same strip.  All of which leads to this point.  With you.  In my room."

"One of the many rooms in The Garden," Faye was quick to amend.  She was uncomfortable with Xander's insistent personal tone.  "I came here because of a bounty, not because of fate."

"Ah.  But see, the bounty is fake.  And it was just a lark I did after I figured out that Poker Alice was Faye Valentine.  And that Faye Valentine was a bounty hunter."  He shrugged. "I just thought, perhaps, it would be easier for you to find me."

"Oh, for God's sake.  I don't believe you."

Xander shook his head. "Faye.  Think about it.  A 300 million woolong bounty?  And it didn't even get shown on Big Shot?"

"Big Shot doesn't know every huge bounty that goes around," Faye returned, remembering what Spike had told them. "Sometimes the bigger fish are supposedly left to the authorities, but a bounty is set on them -- unofficially -- just in case the ISSP screws up.  Which they do and will."

"A fine story.  I'm sorry, doll, but it's all false," Xander returned. "That was just a rumour I started up.  A plausible rumour, but a rumour nonetheless.  Big Shot is not at all affiliated with the authorities -- the show prides itself in being an independent crime-fighting information entity.  Big Shot always does a background check on every suspicious bounty that comes their way.  Sometimes, people phone in with fake bounties.  Somehow, my little rumour spread all the way to Big Shot and they had our story investigated and found it false."  He smirked. "Sorry to disappoint you, babe, but I'm just your every-day entrepreneur."

Faye stood up from her chair. "B-but that's-- that's--"  It couldn't be true!  Three weeks, three weeks --wasted!!

"You just put out a fake bounty on your head on the off-chance that I would catch wind on it?"

"Worked like a charm, I see."

"No.  You're lying," Faye insisted. "Why all the secrecy then, huh?  What's up with all this 'Mr. X' crap and--and-- Shit, Xander, it took us three weeks to get this far!"

"Three weeks?  I do cover my tracks well, I suppose," he said, unapologetically. "You understand, Faye.  You ran off, too."

"You didn't pay off your bill to the hospital?" Faye gasped.

"Why do you sound so surprised?  You didn't, either."

"But--"

"I was a rich man the last time you knew me, Faye.  Or rather, my family was rich.  But, since I had no recollection of my past, I couldn't reconcile with my previous accounts.  I had to start from scratch.  I didn't have around 300 million woolong to spare."  He shrugged. "Even if I do now, I wouldn't give those heartless bastards one cent."  He stood up as well, coming closer to Faye.  "And, despite the technical legalities of my venture, it still isn't 100 reputable."  He winked. "Which is another reason why we get business."

"So you mean... three weeks..." Faye murmured weakly.  "But Spike said..."

"Spike?"

Faye clenched a fist and punched a palm.  "That... that... idiot!  He was the one who came to us with the bounty in the first place!  He said it was legit and under control... He pretty much came back from the dead for this bounty!"

Xander's voice was wary.  "You didn't act alone..."

"DAMMIT!"   Faye screamed.  At the same moment, a loud beeping noise rang in the air.  Faye automatically reached for her communicator, but Xander already had his flipped open.

"Yes, what?  I'm busy," Xander snapped.

A voice came through the communicator.  It sounded like Stan.  "Sorry, boss.  But we have a little... problem.  Miss Kitty--"

All of a sudden, Xander's demeanour changed.  He was all business. "What happened?"

"I think you should get to the stage immediately, sir," Stan continued.

"All right."  He closed the communicator and put it in his pocket.

"What's going on?" Faye demanded.  Xander sighed.

"Faye, we'll continue talking.  Stay here, I need to deal with business right now."  Xander stalked towards the door.  Faye trotted after him, grasping his arm.

"Hey hey!  Oh, no you don't!  You can't get away from me!" Faye exclaimed.

"I'll be back, Faye, I promise," he said, and caressed her cheek.  Faye blinked, unsure of what else to do or say.  Xander turned to leave and reached the door.  He put his hand to the knob and turned it slightly.  He paused.

"Oh, what the hell," he said loudly, and Faye wasn't sure if he was talking to himself or speaking to Faye, but the next thing she knew, Xander had stalked back towards her.

"Huh?" Faye squeaked as Xander took her face into his hands, and then pressed his lips against hers.

What happened next was almost too strange to recount.  Faye was too shocked at Xander's actions to make any other move, so when she heard a gun shot, she was still in Xander's embrace.  To her amazement, the door of the room was kicked open, the hanging doorknob revealing that it had been shot --

-- And on the other side of the door was Spike, his gun pointed straight at them.