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sabinetzinTitle: Protocol
Summary: Another boring night passes.
Fandom: Cowboy Bebop
Word Count: 343
Rating/Warnings: PG
Pairing: Spike/Faye
A/N: Hurrah, I have not lapsed at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
30_kisses!
The night was turning out like every night turned out. It was late, or, at least, it felt late. The television had long since ceased to be entertaining. Jet had already gone to sleep after a long chat with his banzai. Ed had been in her room since supper, doing something on her computer.
Their informal protocol demanded that Spike would get up next, stretch, yawn, and go to bed. Then Faye would turn off the lights, check to make sure no alarms were sounding in the control room, then go to her room.
And, true to form, Spike got up, stretched, yawned, and went off to his room. Faye lay herself down on the couch and stared at the ceiling. This life was so boring some times. She supposed that she ought to be thankful for it, given the mad rush they were usually in. But it just wasn’t her style to relax.
She swung her legs down to the floor and stood up. Dutifully, she turned out the lights and went up to the control room. Prosaic as ever. Her trained feet led her back to her door, but her hand stopped over the knob. She walked back down the hallway, stopping in front of the door to Spike’s room.
Their unspoken law said that she wouldn’t knock, wouldn’t go in, wouldn’t try to kiss him or touch him or anything else. There was a barrier there. To try anything on Spike was just out of the question. But as she stood there, she couldn’t for the life of her remember if the barrier was his or hers. And the more she pondered that, the more she wondered why she should care about anybody’s rules, especially her own.
She brought her hand up and knocked. After a pause, Spike appeared, shirtless, hair mussed. Faye stepped in, leaned up, and kissed him, a little less gently than planned.
“Good night,” she said, and turned to go. A hand pulled her back in by the shoulder.
“What took you so long?” Spike asked. The door shut behind her.
Summary: Another boring night passes.
Fandom: Cowboy Bebop
Word Count: 343
Rating/Warnings: PG
Pairing: Spike/Faye
A/N: Hurrah, I have not lapsed at
30_kisses!The night was turning out like every night turned out. It was late, or, at least, it felt late. The television had long since ceased to be entertaining. Jet had already gone to sleep after a long chat with his banzai. Ed had been in her room since supper, doing something on her computer.
Their informal protocol demanded that Spike would get up next, stretch, yawn, and go to bed. Then Faye would turn off the lights, check to make sure no alarms were sounding in the control room, then go to her room.
And, true to form, Spike got up, stretched, yawned, and went off to his room. Faye lay herself down on the couch and stared at the ceiling. This life was so boring some times. She supposed that she ought to be thankful for it, given the mad rush they were usually in. But it just wasn’t her style to relax.
She swung her legs down to the floor and stood up. Dutifully, she turned out the lights and went up to the control room. Prosaic as ever. Her trained feet led her back to her door, but her hand stopped over the knob. She walked back down the hallway, stopping in front of the door to Spike’s room.
Their unspoken law said that she wouldn’t knock, wouldn’t go in, wouldn’t try to kiss him or touch him or anything else. There was a barrier there. To try anything on Spike was just out of the question. But as she stood there, she couldn’t for the life of her remember if the barrier was his or hers. And the more she pondered that, the more she wondered why she should care about anybody’s rules, especially her own.
She brought her hand up and knocked. After a pause, Spike appeared, shirtless, hair mussed. Faye stepped in, leaned up, and kissed him, a little less gently than planned.
“Good night,” she said, and turned to go. A hand pulled her back in by the shoulder.
“What took you so long?” Spike asked. The door shut behind her.
