paradisalost | 029; dictated

[Jet used to say life goes in cycles, but to Spike, here it's more like a spiral. Lose everything you never really had until you're left with the nothing you started with -- all those ways of thinking that make you a productive member of society. Just wait around for the next suicide mission to pop up and spend the meantime catching up on some sleep. As it happened, Brock's cabin was conveniently left up for grabs, and Spike found his nice little getaway to not give a damn in.

After briefly getting cheered up by the mischief of the 'new gang' in town, he returns with a case of beer to the only place that has nothing but solitude to offer. Sure, it could still use a big TV and a fridge full of food, maybe a decent fan to get some of that musk out of there, but he isn't in the mood to be picky.

It's only after he makes himself comfortable on the couch that he hears something off to the side... Movement catches his eye, and he automatically draws his gun. In the shuffling that follows, the journal falls out of nowhere and opens just in time to pick up a screeching animal and the hollow sound of empty cans scattering to the ground from a nearby pile.]

Hey! [Gunshots fire, but from his shouting, it sounds like he only succeeded in scaring something away.] Sonofabitch... Raccoons now.

[So he'll admit to some drawbacks in this brilliant plan. Maybe the castle is trying to make a point with that journal he sees on the ground and reluctantly reaches for. Everything's always got to be complicated.] Might have had better luck with a tent. Can you wish up bear traps, or is that against the rules?

[Good job checking in, Spike.]

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[If Spike were thinking straight, he'd be feeling like the same. As it is, he's giving it at least some effort to reel his mind back to the present before he makes a bigger mistake.]

It never came up. [They don't talk about things like that. Especially him.] I didn't ask you what you lost.

[a little annoyed at that answer.

...though, maybe annoyed isn't entirely the right word. It agitates her, whatever it is.]

It never occurred to you that maybe I could have helped you figure it out?

[Apparently it hadn't from the way he stares back at her.]

Figure what out?

Your loss!

[Faye Valentine offer to help him with his personal problems? That would be the day.]

I figured out what it was easy enough. [Wouldn't be as fun if he could live without it, right?] That's the thing about gaping holes in your memory. Everything doesn't add up like it should.

[so what if she would also get something out of it? It's still helping.

Her expression sours, at that. He doesn't need to tell her--of all people--how much fun memory-loss is.]

And you never once got curious whether or not the people who actually knew you back then could fill in any gaps?

[Could be one reason he didn't tell her. Sympathizers never made him very comfortable, and coming from Faye was a few times worse.]

... [That area of his brain is a little spotty, so he doesn't know how to take her question. Just how well did she know Julia?]

You?

I at least know what she looks like.

[which is more than he can say for himself, so... what else matters?]

[That stings more than she might have intended. Spike is very aware of how pathetic that makes him, but his voice sounds as hollow as ever.]

So you're offering to point her out to me?

[she just folds her arms, looking stubborn. In Faye-speak, this is a 'yeah, maybe.' He's brushed off the idea of her helping too many times for her to say it out loud, now]

[He stands up, like that's all he needs to do to show he's alright handling it himself. Or maybe it's all a ploy to put some distance between her and the vulnerability that's he doesn't like to keep so close to the surface. He'd rather her assume he's just a jackass.]

Go home, Faye.

[--and that bites deeper than he probably realizes. Or maybe he does have a pretty good idea, and that's part of the whole point.

Either way, it sharpens her voice to a very pointed edge]

You know what, Spike... you may not like it, but there are people here who know you.

When you decide to finally start acting like it, let me know.

[--even though she's currently the only one that falls into this category, aside from Julia; trying to stay as far away from using the 'friend' word as possible.

Abruptly reaching the end of the rope of this conversation, Faye turns to go. Hopefully the cabin door is sturdy enough to take being slammed]

[She's mad at him again, and that return to normalcy makes him slightly less tense -- which proves what a bastard he is at heart. But Faye had come there to tell him off, he didn't want her to feel slighted.

Once she's out the door (which shakes the walls for dramatic effect, but doesn't bring them down), he stays still and listens for the hum of her engine to start and fly away. With that accomplished, he's ironically left wishing he'd taken her offer. How is he supposed to find her when he doesn't know what she looks like?

He runs a hand through his hair and stares blankly out the window for a good long while, before finally following her out the door and quietly closing it behind him.]

029; dictated

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*that's = that... B| /chews on typos