Lipstick Collared Kisses

It was bad enough that she had to take three hours in the bathroom. But had he said a word?

Several. Most of them of the four-letter variety and vulgar enough to up the show's ratings. But the point is, he had endured it. He had tolerated her eating his food, sleeping in his chair, and watching gay porn on his television when his show was on.

But this was just crossing the line.

"What're you—stop it." Spike loomed over her dainty shoulder, glaring for all he was worth. "No way is this allowed."

Faye disentangled herself from the man she had been kissing to toss him her own, emerald scowl. "Allowed?" she repeated venomously.

Jet rolled his eyes, unplugged the T.V. and carried it into the other room.

"You heard me," Spike repeated, not at all deterred. He crossed his lanky arms and leaned darkly against the wall. "Get rid of it."

"It" was a muscular, trim man creeping on his thirties. He glanced between Faye and Spike, looking slightly less sure of himself, but didn't remove his arm from around Faye's waist. Spike snorted.

"I'm sorry, since when do I take orders from you?" Faye laughed sarcastically, and turned back around to lock lips. Spike's glare intensified.

"Faye."

The other guy's hand was voyaging down Faye's back into increasingly dangerous territory. Spike suffered a temporary fit of insanity while he contemplated ripping it off. He again leaned over her shoulder, snarling into her ear, "Faye."

"What," Faye shoved the other guy off candidly, arching a dark brow, "Are you not understanding about the concept of privacy?"

"It's my ship," Spike said, almost defensive. Faye's lips parted in a snarl, and let loose another, shrieking giggle.

"My apologies, captain. I really wasn't aware, considering how crap you are as a pilot." She winked, eyes glittering evilly. Spike puffed up in rage.

"Hey man, you got any booze on here?" the random guy asked.

"Third shelf on the fridge, behind the pickles." Faye ground out. The Guy wandered over, then froze at the click of a gun being loaded.

"Don't. Touch. My. Beer." Spike snarled. The Guy turned around, glanced at Faye, and then at the gun being pointed at him. He very quickly prioritized life over libido, and scurried away silently.

Spike smiled in cool satisfaction. Faye smacked him over the back of his head with her purse. "You jerk!"

"You can't bring back guys onto my ship!" Spike hissed, remembering his agitation.

"YOU SEXIST PIG!" Faye roared, "I BET YOU LET JET BRING BACK ALL HIS MEN!"

"Hey!" Jet yelled from the other room.