CB: Cat and Mouse, -I-

I know she's here. The scent of her in the air is as potent as though she were wearing cheap perfume. I can see it written on every face in the room, I can almost see her walking through the door. I sidle up to the bar and the bartender disinterestedly asks me if I want something to drink.

I place an order, and then ask, "So if I'm looking for someone around these parts… where would I go to find 'em?"

"Depends on who you're looking for," the bartender responds, pouring my drink.

"A woman…" the noise of the door behind me chimes as it shuts, and I'm surprised I didn't feel the change in air pressure when she stepped in.

"Since when have you had trouble finding a woman, Spike?" she sits beside me and nods to the bartender, and he sets a second glass beside mine.

"Since you walked out," I respond, glancing over at her. She's still thin, pale skinned, and beautiful. I can't see her eyes with the sunglasses on.

"This is one of those cliché movie scenes isn't it?" she asks, sipping her drink, "Where you say, 'If I can't get you, I can't get anyone'?"

"No." I sip my own drink. "It's been a long time, Faye."

"A year or two. Nothing big," she responds, and turns, finally, to glance at me over the top of her sunglasses. "What are you doing here? Bounty?"

"No."

"I don't believe you. What, did Jette decide to stop in here and you didn't have a say in it?" she laughs lightly, "That sounds a bit more like it."

"I came looking for you."

And those words stop her short. She knocks back the glass and turns to me, crossing her impossibly long legs, and asks, "What do you want from me, Spike? Hmm? I'm not a housewife."

"When have I ever tried to make you a housewife, Faye?" I lean over, taking a deep breath near her neck, inhaling the scent of her skin and her shampoo over the smoke and liquor of the bar. "I don't recall doing that… unless my memory got knocked around as well that night."

"You chose a ghost over me," her voice is quiet, contemplative, and she leans slightly closer. "Julia's dead, Spike."

I reach out and put my hand on her leg, "And you aren't."

The force of the blow to my cheek makes my head spin and she picks her drink up again. "I deserved that."

"Yes, you did," her voice is clipped, simple. She lays down a few wulongs on the bar and stands up, stretching her arms over her head. "And it's not that easy, cowboy, I've moved on."

She leaves the bar, and I let her, but not without casting a glance after her. There was a bit too much hesitation in her voice during that last line. Maybe what Jette said before was right.

She doesn't have anywhere but the Bebop to return to, ultimately.

She'll be back.