Disclaimer: I don't own them, and you know what? I don't think anyone ever really could. They are free, you hear me?! Free spirits! . . .Ok, I'm gonna stop now. Yeah, I'm done. On with the story

AN: This is a one shot thing. I don't really think there will be any other chapters to this. However if I get reviews asking for it I will try and continue with a sequel of some sort.

THINGS CHANGE

"Two years," Faye said as she entered the grave yard. The wind picked up a bit as she made her way through the cemetery. The sky was a washout gray, as it always was when she visited here. Her attire, too, was the same. The same black pants and button up shirt, hidden underneath her worn black trench coat. Two years and she still wore black when she came. A small smile touched her lips at the thought, and she shook her head as she approached her destination.

The maze of tombstones were so familiar now. As she passed each one she put a hand to the top of it and said a silent 'hey there' to the people beneath her. The wind picked up and blew strands of her purple hair across her face. She moved the hair and a sad smile formed on her face as she looked upon the gravestone with the name she knew all too well. Her shoulders locked and she closed the distance between her and the stone.

She knelt slowly down and ran her fingers over the letters. The sad smile remained as a few tears began to roll down her cheeks. Two years, and she still visited; he would get a good laugh about that. She chuckled a bit. The tears had dried on her cheeks.

"How things change," she said to the grave. She absently wiped some of the spider webs from the stone. "I wish you were here. Believe it or not, I really wish you were here." She remembered the day he left; she'd been angry with him. Again. It happened so often, but usually they had a chance to patch it up. Well, as much as they could. She remembered watching his back as he walked to the hangar bay, her fists clenched. He didn't have to go alone. She would have gone with him. She would have gone to the pits of hell for that man. He just didn't know that.

New tears began to fall from her eyes. This time they were of anger; not at him, but at the ones who killed him. She slammed her fist into the ground and let out a silent scream. Her eyes yet again went to the name on the stone. The fury that she felt the day they found out bubbled up anew. Her anger had been equaled by everyone else on the ship. They'd killed those bastards just like they killed him. They'd worked together without a hitch. And had ever since. She snickered as she looked at the ground beneath her. "How things change."

"Who would have guessed that your death would bring us together," she said as she wiped her now dirty hand on her pants. "If you were here now you would be laughing and laughing. Hell, I'm sure you're rolling in your grave. We bicker all the time. Not that we didn't before, but now it's on a whole new level." Her hand absently went to her stomach which had grown quite a bit rounder. "You wouldn't believe the levels we hit." She laughed.

"Faye," his voice was hoarse, more so than usual. She could tell he was still grieving too. He just hid it better. He always hid things better. She didn't turn around, her hand stayed on her stomach and her eyes on the stone before her. She could hear his steps, the one foot falling a little heavier than the other. The damp weather always made his leg tight. Old wounds, long healed.

"We should go, Faye. You haven't eaten today." He stopped right behind her, his callused thumb moving in circles on the back of her neck. She smiled and looked up at him.

"You think I don't know that, Lunkhead?" She smiled widely at him. He rolled his eyes and looked towards the gravestone.

"Bet you get a kick out of this little turn of events," Spike said, a sad smirk coming to his face. He took out a cigarette and lit it up. Faye smiled and held out her hand for one. Spike raised an eyebrow at her. "Like the kid isn't going to be screwed up enough, Faye, let's add smoking into it."

"Idiot." She slapped his bad knee, he laughed and winced a bit. "Its not for me." He smiled and slid out another cigarette and handed it to her. Faye poked her finger into the wet ground and slid the cigarette into the hole. She smiled. She slowly stood and Spike wrapped his arms around her from behind.

"I miss him too," Spike said as he pushed her hair out of his way with his chin. His mouth at her ear, his chin resting on her shoulder, and his hands wrapped around her stomach.

"I wish he could be here to see it," Faye said, patting Spike's hand on her stomach.

"Man, he's probably rolling in his grave," Spike said, letting go of Faye and looking at the ground below him.

"You blame him?" Faye said as she watched Spike pick up the small bag at his feet.

"Nope," he said with a smile as he pulled the small tree from the bag. "Not one bit." He placed the tree beside the cigarette. It was a ritual now. The tree was always gone when they came back, but that didn't matter. "Here you go, buddy." He patted the stone as he stood back up.

"Spike," Faye said as she took a step forward. He turned around to look at her. "It's your turn to buy dinner."

He let out a long breath trying to hide his smile. "I bought last time. And I really don't think it's fair, considering you eat twice as much." He turned his head to look at the grave. "If you can believe that."

"Excuse me." Faye said moving towards the grave. "He's the one that started this. Getting me pregnant." She said it to the stone.

They both just stood staring at one another, waiting for that gruff voice to come out and tell them to stop being idiots. But it didn't come. No matter how much things change some things will always remain the same.

"Shit," Spike said as he put his hand into his puff of green hair. "I hate this."

"Me too, cowboy," Faye said, putting her hand to his shoulder. "I wish he were here. I still don't see why he had to."

"Don't. I don't want to do it again," Spike said, taking her hand in his. "Let's go home." He kissed the palm of her hand and turned her from the gravestone. They walked back to the gate of the graveyard on Ganymede, towards the Bebop. Spike turned his head and saluted the stone of his best friend. "Rest in peace, old man."

"Come on," she said, taking one last look at the stone herself, the words on it still a horrible nightmare of a reality.

'Jet Black, the best damn cook in the galaxy. He will be missed by all who loved him, and forever remembered as the Father of the Bebop.'

Faye smirked. "See ya next year, Jet."