Holy shit.
Dec. 31st, 2006 02:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sabinetzinTitle: Judas: Act III
Series: Judas
Summary: Spike and Faye make their break.
Fandom: Cowboy Bebop
Word Count: 238
Rating/Warnings: PG
Pairing: Spike/Faye
A/N: My very last fic for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
30_kisses. ::little tear:: It's been real, and I'm terribly glad I finished.
His ship was gassed and waiting, with only one flimsy chain that the gun made short work of. So, of course, they took one of Vicious's; he would have expected no less.
The cockpit was tiny compared to what she was used to. Her body was pressed up against Spike's, his hands moving against her as he worked the controls, her back cold against the glass of the cockpit.
"Y'know, I could fly a lot better without your breasts in my face," he deadpanned.
"Oh, excuse me, I'll go sit on the wing."
Once they reached the Gate, there was no further attempt to follow them; Faye put it down to Vicious's twisted idea of fair play. They passed the ride without speaking, Spike leaning back from the controls and whistling, Faye just staring out at the stars.
Spike sat the craft down on a dusty piece of nothing, turning on the distress signal.
"So what happens now?" Faye asked him, sitting on the ship's wing, her feet dangling.
Spike, scanning the sky, didn't look at her. "I guess we just go home." His voice was level, but the implications obvious.
She slid down off the wing, walking softly up behind him and putting her arms around his waist. He turned, catching her lips with his.
There was a long, slow moment between them before Faye finally pulled away. "Of course, we'll have to talk about my cut."
Series: Judas
Summary: Spike and Faye make their break.
Fandom: Cowboy Bebop
Word Count: 238
Rating/Warnings: PG
Pairing: Spike/Faye
A/N: My very last fic for
30_kisses. ::little tear:: It's been real, and I'm terribly glad I finished.His ship was gassed and waiting, with only one flimsy chain that the gun made short work of. So, of course, they took one of Vicious's; he would have expected no less.
The cockpit was tiny compared to what she was used to. Her body was pressed up against Spike's, his hands moving against her as he worked the controls, her back cold against the glass of the cockpit.
"Y'know, I could fly a lot better without your breasts in my face," he deadpanned.
"Oh, excuse me, I'll go sit on the wing."
Once they reached the Gate, there was no further attempt to follow them; Faye put it down to Vicious's twisted idea of fair play. They passed the ride without speaking, Spike leaning back from the controls and whistling, Faye just staring out at the stars.
Spike sat the craft down on a dusty piece of nothing, turning on the distress signal.
"So what happens now?" Faye asked him, sitting on the ship's wing, her feet dangling.
Spike, scanning the sky, didn't look at her. "I guess we just go home." His voice was level, but the implications obvious.
She slid down off the wing, walking softly up behind him and putting her arms around his waist. He turned, catching her lips with his.
There was a long, slow moment between them before Faye finally pulled away. "Of course, we'll have to talk about my cut."
