Hurrah, fic.
Sep. 6th, 2005 01:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: Night Walk
Summary: "He likes the ship best at night."
Fandom: Cowboy Bebop
Word Count: 261
Rating/Warnings: G
Pairing: Spike/Faye
A/N: I know I have eleventeen things that I should be writing instead, but I had to get this out of my system first. For
30_kisses (14th fic hurrah?).
He likes the ship best at night. It’s quiet and calm, and nobody’s awake but him. He gets to notice things that nobody else gets the chance to see. He sees Jet sleeping with a protective arm around Ed, a too-fatherly gesture for daytime.
Ein is kicking away in his sleep, growling slightly at some fearsome dream enemy. Spike bends and scratches his belly, but he doesn’t wake.
And then he finds himself where he usually does in these late night walks. The door is open; she’s sometimes careless like that. He wonders fleetingly if she does it on purpose, if she knows about his ritual. But he sneaks in anyway.
He looks down at her sleeping form. She’s curled up in the fetal position, hugging her pillow rather than resting on it. Her slack face is somehow more serious than it ever is when she’s awake. It’s not until he’s lost himself in the gentle rise and fall of her chest that a jolt of sorrow hits him. He wants to stay here, to stay like this.
He needs for her to know. He needs to find a way to tell her that he’s stuck, that he’s doomed to be between too worlds until one of them finishes them. The most she’ll ever be able to have is half his love, and he needs her to know that it’s not her fault.
But the words don’t come tonight, just like they’ve failed to come every night. So he drops a kiss on her sleeping forehead and goes off to bed.
Summary: "He likes the ship best at night."
Fandom: Cowboy Bebop
Word Count: 261
Rating/Warnings: G
Pairing: Spike/Faye
A/N: I know I have eleventeen things that I should be writing instead, but I had to get this out of my system first. For
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
He likes the ship best at night. It’s quiet and calm, and nobody’s awake but him. He gets to notice things that nobody else gets the chance to see. He sees Jet sleeping with a protective arm around Ed, a too-fatherly gesture for daytime.
Ein is kicking away in his sleep, growling slightly at some fearsome dream enemy. Spike bends and scratches his belly, but he doesn’t wake.
And then he finds himself where he usually does in these late night walks. The door is open; she’s sometimes careless like that. He wonders fleetingly if she does it on purpose, if she knows about his ritual. But he sneaks in anyway.
He looks down at her sleeping form. She’s curled up in the fetal position, hugging her pillow rather than resting on it. Her slack face is somehow more serious than it ever is when she’s awake. It’s not until he’s lost himself in the gentle rise and fall of her chest that a jolt of sorrow hits him. He wants to stay here, to stay like this.
He needs for her to know. He needs to find a way to tell her that he’s stuck, that he’s doomed to be between too worlds until one of them finishes them. The most she’ll ever be able to have is half his love, and he needs her to know that it’s not her fault.
But the words don’t come tonight, just like they’ve failed to come every night. So he drops a kiss on her sleeping forehead and goes off to bed.