CHAPTER TWELVE:

The rickety sounds of a train’s wheels against metal rails, drifted through the large glass windows in the tiny and cramped excuse for an apartment. The smell of strong herbal tea drifted out from the non-existent kitchen, as the happy sounds of the young girl’s off-key singing filled the otherwise hollow and empty silence.

“Here ya go! Some more Ed’s special tea for Spike-person!”

~ Did she always have to yell? ~

“No…no more, Ed. Thank you very much for this one.”

The red-haired vivacious being’s face fell into one of exaggerated sorrow. “Spike-person, no longer like Ed’s special tea? Edward is hurt.”

~ Damn it! ~

“Fine. I will drink the dam…the tea.”

He had to restrain himself from closing his ears at the loud squeal of delight that accompanied his resigned acceptance, and raising pleading eyes to the other silent being in the room, he was finally rescued.

“Hey, Ed. Wanna go buy some ice-cream for us? We are out.”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Edward take Ein to go buy ice-cream! Now, now, now!!”

And in a flurry of red, white and black coupled with the sound of a happy bark making their way out of the door, the apartment was once again filled with the empty and hollow silence.

It was deafening.

The older man with the almost balding hair, bushy eyebrows and matching beard raised his teacup with his artificial arm and sipped from it quietly. He eyed the younger, haggard and quite frankly sickly-looking man before him. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought he was having tea with a corpse.

Suddenly, the green-haired man spoke.

“I don’t understand it.”

The older man nodded. The rant again. He had had to listen to it for a while. It was almost a ritual now. He listened. That was his job. To listen.

“Why would she just leave like that?”

“Stranger things have happened, Spike.”

“I mean…I never hit her or anything.”

“No, you didn’t Spike. You were a good husband.”

/ Were? /

His face furrowed into a frown. “We are not divorced, Jet.” Came the cold retort.

Jet nodded quickly. “Of course not, Spike.”

“What? Are you saying that she wants a divorce?”

“I never said that.”

“But you implied it! You think she did this because she wants to get a divorce, right?!”

“Now, Spike. Don’t get all hysterical. She never mentioned a divorce, so you aren’t getting a divorce. End of story.”

“Well, if she thinks she is going to get a divorce from me, then she is sadly mistaken! I won’t grant it to her!”

“Spike…”

“Goddamit! She is my wife! I married her and…and…”

He slumped his shoulders again and buried his face in his hands. Rocking himself back and forth on the dingy couch, he moaned softly.

“It’s been a month, Jet. One whole fucking month. I don’t know how much longer I can go on.”

Jet stared at his best friend with worried eyes. “Spike…”

Brownish-red eyes filled with unshed tears and unmistakable sorrow raised themselves up suddenly to pin their depths upon his visage.

“I know where she is, you know. I could just go there and bring her right back.”

“She wouldn’t like that, Spike. She did say she needed the space.”

“But…but she hates it there! Why the hell would she go back to a home she rarely talks about?”

Jet blinked in confusion. “I thought you said Faye never spoke about her past to you. How do you know she hates her home?”

“She talks in her sleep.”

“Nani?!”

Spike stared back at him as if he had gone crazy. “Yes, Jet. I sleep on the same bed with her, so I would presume that I would have heard several things apart from the usual grunts and orgasmic sounds of bliss we make in the heat of passion.”

Jet had the grace to blush. “Look, I didn’t mean to imply…”

The writer got up to his feet and paced the tiny space with measured steps. “Forget it, Jet. The point is she hates it there…and I drove her right back to it.”

“Oh, come on, Spike. Don’t start with the blame game now.”

“It’s true, Jet. I am the reason she left…”

“But what about that Vicious character? Doesn’t he have a role in this as well?”

Spike’s hands tightened into clenched fists. Narrowed eyes staring at a wall with growing fury as he grit his teeth at the sound of that name. And in a voice that sent chills down Jet’s spine, Spike bit out coldly.

“Vicious. It is all of his fault as well. If she hadn’t met him, none of this would have happened!”

At least Spike wasn’t blaming himself anymore. “So what do you plan on doing?”

Eyes that blazed with an emotion he couldn’t define spun around to face him. “Oh, I have a plan alright. I think I will pay a little visit to Vicious-sama and then I am going to get my woman back!”

~&~&~&~&~

Talented lean fingers danced over the white and black keys with deft precision that came with years of practice and dedication. The melodic sounds of some obscure classical piece drifted over the comfortable den bathing it with a soulful peace and serenity that was not reflected in the heart of the performer.

Finishing off with a flourish, she stood up and curtsied at her rapt and applauding audience, a small blush dusting pale cheeks at the exuberant response.

“Bravo, my dear. She keeps getting better with each passing day, doesn’t she?”

“As she very well should be.” Came the careless reply from mother as she got up from her seat to walk out of the room. “Remember that dinner is tonight at eight o’clock. I will not tolerate your lateness again, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, mother.”

“Well, aren’t you coming out to the lawns with me?” She asked irritably.

“In a minute, dear.” Father replied. “I just need to speak to Faye for a moment.”

Dark eyes flashed with anger before replacing them with an empty blankness. “As you wish. I will be in the south lawn.”

Faye hadn’t realized that she had dug her nails so deep into the palm of her hands that tiny droplets of blood had begun to show.

“You are bleeding, Faye.” Her father said quietly. “Come.”

She obediently followed him towards the bathroom, where her hand was gently placed under the steady rush of warm water. She eyed herself in the mirror. She looked ten years older with her hair now done up in a rigid braid placed atop her head like a crown. The ugly pale-yellow dress she wore did nothing to show her figure. She looked and felt frumpy.

Spike would have ripped the clothes off her in a minute.

/ Ah…Spike…/

“Ah…I see that faraway look in your eyes again.”

She blushed in self-consciousness at the fact that had thoughts might have been read.

“What…whatever do you mean, father?”

Her hands were wiped clean, the bleeding having been stopped effectively. “Why come here, when you still want him, Faye?”

“I…I don’t know…”

/ You ran away! /

“I thought it was the best for both of us. I thought that he would be tired of me and would need to have his own space. I…I…oh papa!!”

She clung unto his shoulders and wept in sorrow. “Oh, papa!! I miss him so much!!”

Father pulled her away from him gently, kind eyes filled with understanding staring at the tear-streaked face of his only child. “Then why don’t you go back to him? Why, don’t you go back and work things out with him. Who knows, he just might be waiting for you to make the first move.”

She shook her head sadly and stepped away from him to stare out of the windows. “No…I don’t think so, papa. For you see, I told him not to come looking for me. And if I know Spike…he would probably take me on my word. I was so…so foolish!”

“Now, now, child. Don’t worry about a thing. Tell you what…we are going to have a little get-together and maybe that should cheer you up. You can get to see all of your old school mates and friends. That should get the color right back into your cheeks.”

She managed a wan smile as she was led out of the house and into the bright sunshine.

~ If only things were that simple. ~

~&~&~&~&~

The secretary was a bit unsure of the green-haired man before her. “Are you sure you have an appointment, sir? I really do not see your name on this list.”

He leaned against the counter and lowered his lashes in a look that was both predatory and sensual in nature, which in turn sent spots of color upon the woman’s face.

“Perhaps if you told him that Spike was here…I am sure he would be happy to oblige.”

“Yes…yes, sir.”

He tapped his finger idly on the oak tabletop, as his eyes scanned the tastefully furnished office. He had to give Vicious some credit for having excellent taste in design.

‘He will see you now, sir.”

He bowed in ‘thanks’ before stepping through the black doors. His body already tense with held back emotions. He halted his steps as he noticed the smirk upon the sitting man’s face. Gritting his teeth, ready to give a sharp retort, he was rudely interrupted.

“So, I see you finally lost Faye.”

“I did not lose her.”

“Well, she is no longer with you, am I not correct?”

“How would you…?”

“I paid a little visit to the Valentine Estates this past weekend. Faye looked quite…ravishing, if I may say so myself.”

“Why, you son of a…”

“She looked a whole lot happier. The luminous smile that is so reminiscent of my old Faye, was right back upon her rosy cheeks. And do you know what she told me, Spike?”

He didn’t want to know. “What?”

The gray-haired man leaned forward with eyes that sparkled with malicious intent.

“She says that separating from you was the best thing that ever happened to her.”

Spike felt his chest constrict painfully.

~ It’s not true. ~

“She says that she would rather remain with those that love and protect her than with a man who is never there for her.”

His breathing was becoming quite difficult.

~ He’s lying! ~

“All she ever wanted was to be happy, Spike…and you never fulfilled your end of the bargain.”

He was practically heaving for air now. His eyes grew hazy with fury. His hands itching…just itching…

He watched as Vicious walked around his ornate desk to stand in front of him, a small piece of paper tapping carelessly within his palms. Mere inches separated them now, as the smirk upon the gray-haired man’s face broadened. Leaning forward, he placed his lips close to Spike’s ear and whispered softly.

“And you want to know something else, Spike? I. Will. Get. Her. Back. And just between you and me…she has the hottest legs I have ever seen and is a pretty damn fine kisser….argh!!”

The shock of being hit came first before the pain. Vicious held his jaw, as he stared with disdain at the furious man in front of him.

He sneered. “Is that the best you can do? No wonder she needs a stronger man. At least, someone who can keep up with her insatiable appetites.”

He never saw the next blow coming. And he felt his head snap back with the force of the punch. Collapsing onto the coffee table, he tried to stumble back to his feet, but that was done for him as Spike had pulled him up to his feet by the scruff of his shirt.

Eyes narrowed with hate bored into the similar cold gray eyes, as his words fell out in icy chips.

“You listen to me and you listen well, Vicious. You are lucky I am in a hurry today, or you would have been dead long ago. You will never ever speak about my wife in such a manner again. Do I make myself clear? And if you have touched one hair upon her head or any other part of her, I will hunt you down myself and kill you. Do you understand?!”

And not waiting for him to reply, Spike pushed him back unto the couch and snatched the small piece of paper that had been in the other man’s grasp.

An invitation.

He tucked the card within his pockets and gave one last look to the dishelved looking man. Placing a smile that was too bright upon his face, he gave a mock bow.

“Why, thank you for the invite, Vicious. I guess we shall be seeing each other again this weekend at the Valentine Estates, ne? You have a good day.”

With another mock bow, Spike walked out of the office and right back into the bustling streets.

He found himself humming softly as he strolled the crowded sidewalks.

Things were looking up.

/ Oh, yes indeed. Things were going well. /

He had to get ready for the biggest performance of his life.

/ The stage has been set, folks. Let the actors take their places. The show is about to begin…/