Chapter Text
Faye was the first to wake up, or so she thought. For a moment before she opened her eyes, she couldn’t remember where she was, but the metal spine of the pull out bed pressing against her hip through the worn out cushioning reminded her somewhat unkindly- Jet had finally fixed the futon.
After Spike’s last foolhardy brush with death left him incapacitated on the couch for days, Jet decided it made sense to have a place where more than one person could sleep out in the common area. She’d seen how stiff he’d gotten from sleeping in the chair across from the couch while watching over an unconscious Spike when he was too touch and go to leave alone, and the times she’d fallen asleep doing the exact same thing had made her back ache. It made more sense, he told her when she’d found him taking apart the old yellow couch some weeks ago, to just sleep on the futon with him instead. She’d scoffed and asked if he was sure he wasn’t just looking for excuses to share a bed with Spike. He’d rolled his eyes and sighed heavily before getting back to work without deigning to answer.
Of course, that wasn’t exactly how they ended up this way. She cracked her eyes open, her head spinning weakly as the dimmed lights of the Bebop cast shadows over Spike’s face. He was lying on his side, still fast asleep while his body recovered from the truly idiotic amount of alcohol he drank the night before. He was almost healed up enough from his run-in with that creepy flying bastard that he could sleep in his own room again, and he decided to celebrate his good health with some of Jet’s whiskey. She tried to tell him that heavy drinking wasn’t exactly conducive to healing, especially when it involved stealing alcohol from the man who was going to change his bandages, but he’d never listened to anyone about anything before, and he certainly wasn’t going to start any time soon.
His face was relaxed as he slept, and for one of the first times since she met him, he actually looked peaceful. The impulse to reach out and touch Spike’s hand, to feel his steady pulse beneath her fingertips was defeated only by the fact that moving might wake up Jet.
He was sleeping heavily behind her, the elbow of his mechanical arm pressed lightly between her shoulder blades and his flesh and bone arm draped over her body, his big hand so close to Spike’s she couldn’t tell if they were touching or not. She wasn’t exactly sure when she ended up nestled with her back against his broad chest- the two of them split the rest of the whiskey after he’d walked in on Spike surreptitiously pulling the bottle he’d pilfered out from between the couch cushions. Jet had said something about removing the temptation- or did she? Her memory started to get a bit blurry after Jet came in, but she still vaguely remembered that their argument about who would sleep on the futon with Spike to make sure he didn’t choke on his own vomit ended when he suggested they all share the bed together.
The heat radiating from Jet’s sleeping body might’ve been overwhelming if it hadn’t been so cold on the Bebop- instead it was a pleasant warmth, especially welcome in the absence of blankets. The soft material of Jet’s shirt rubbed gently against her back as he breathed, his chest rising and falling with a slow rhythm that threatened to lull her back to sleep. The tempo of Spike’s breathing was slightly offbeat in comparison with Jet, but every once in a while their breathing would sync up and they’d exhale together, unaware of their brief moment of harmony before slowly falling back out of sync with each other- something about it made Faye’s heart squeeze fondly. The shared warmth of the two men on either side of her should’ve been much more uncomfortable than it was, but something about it felt almost natural, like she was exactly where she was meant to be. Like maybe she might finally have someplace where she-
She sucked in a sharp breath as her eyes shot open, cutting the dangerous line of thought short before it could lead her anywhere worse than it already had. The sudden need to run filled her head like static, replacing every other thought with get out now. Every inch of her body screamed at her to get in the Red Tail and get as far away as she possibly could, but getting up would definitely wake up Jet, and the thought of his sleep-clouded eyes fixing on hers, the early morning raspiness in his voice as he’d ask her where she was going made her already queasy stomach tie into knots. She made an effort to calm her breathing, which had somehow managed to get away from her, not wanting to disturb either man- the thought of them seeing her like that made her feel even sicker. Once her breathing was back under control, she willed Jet to wake up already so she could slip out unnoticed- Luckily, it wasn’t long before he began to stir beside her.
She held perfectly still, fighting the urge to throw him off of her before he could realize they’d been spooning, the feeling of embarrassment being far outweighed by the awkwardness of that particular confrontation. He groaned softly as he woke up, and Faye pretended to sound asleep, relaxing her shoulders into a more believable looking slumbering form. He lingered there for a few moments, probably trying to recollect how exactly he ended up in a bed with his crew mates- he groaned again, this time sounding more embarrassed than groggy, and Faye barely fought off the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips in spite of herself.
Jet slowly picked up his arm, clearly trying not to wake her with his movement. She continued breathing deeply and evenly as the warmth from his body moved away, making her shiver a little. His hand stopped suddenly, hovering over her shoulder before gently placing it on her arm, rubbing his thumb over her skin. His hand was warm and calloused, and it took everything in her not to flinch reflexively at the uncharacteristic tenderness of the gesture. He removed his hand with a sigh, and with surprising grace for such a large, likely hungover man, brought himself to his feet. He took a few steps before hesitating at the edge of the futon, and she could practically feel his eyes on her and Spike. After a moment, he turned and walked up the hall, presumably heading to the bathroom.
Faye lay still as his footsteps faded, straining her ears to hear the sound of a door closing. Her eyes were fixed on Spike’s face- his brow was furrowed slightly now, as if he could sense Jet’s absence. As soon as she heard the door to the bathroom close and lock, Faye lifted herself out of the bed as quietly as possible. Her boots were slid on by shaky hands, and she grabbed her red jacket from under Jet’s jumpsuit in the little pile of outerwear and shoes they’d left on the table the night before.
Her footsteps were barely audible as she climbed to the top of the stairs, stopping by the door to glance over her shoulder at Spike’s sleeping form. He was curled up tighter now, hands twitching slightly with whatever dream he found himself in- whatever it was, it didn’t seem pleasant. The sight made her feel as if her feet had been glued to the floor; a feeling she had become intimately familiar with a few weeks ago when Ed had gotten into the super glue.
The sudden memory of Spike chasing the squealing child around the room in his socks to try and get it away from her while Jet methodically pried their shoes up from the metal floor almost made her lose her nerve. She pressed her fingernails into her palm roughly, just enough of a bite to bring her back to herself and get moving again. She hurried away silently, her stomach protesting loudly as she stalked past the galley without stopping to grab something to settle it- she would have to make do with whatever provisions she still had left in the Red Tail for breakfast.
