Spike

Spike stumbled back about half a day later. As he walked through the hallway he stopped, wondering why it seemed different. It took him a while to realize that he heard music. Confused, Spike followed the sound to the kitchen, vaguely wondering why Jet was listening to music while he cooked, though whatever he was cooking smelled great. He stopped in the doorway, surprised. Jessica was standing, hand on hip, spatula poised over the big wok, practically dancing (though without really moving) as she watched whatever it was she was cooking. After Spike had stood there for a few moments she looked up.

“It’ll be ready in a few minutes.” She gave a half-smile when he looked at her, seemingly dazed. “If you like the music that much I can hook it up to the ship’s sound system.” He stared at her, comprehended what she had said, shook his head, and turned and walked out.

“Damn.” She muttered, “Was he drunk?” She stirred the food absently, making sure the noodles didn’t stick, and listened to the music she knew by heart. Jessica quickly plated the food and started a second batch, humming quietly along with the music. She stopped, listening, and heard the sound of shuffling footsteps, just in time to see Spike appear once again in the doorway.

“What?” She couldn’t imagine what he could possibly want.

“Where’s Jet?” He seemed confused, but not really worried, and Jessica decided that he was drunk. She went back to stirring.

“He and Faye went off to catch some bounty, not sure where they are.” She looked up and was alarmed to find that he was gone. She muttered a curse under her breath and, turning off the stove, went after him.

“Spike!” she hollered, striding after him into the hangar. “Spike, stop.” She struggled to match his long-legged strides for a while then stopped, sighing. “Fine, you leave me no choice.” She said half to herself. She drew herself to her full height, took a deep breath measuring the distance (not far), and took off running. When she had halved the distance she launched herself into the air and aimed a flying kick into Spike’s chest, just as he turned.

Spike heard her footsteps, but had assumed she would tackle him and was completely taken by surprise when, as he turned to face her, she was flying through the air; leg extended and in perfect form. As a result, when her foot made contact, he found himself sprawled on the floor with Jessica straddling him, pinning him down.

“Jet told me to keep you here.” She huffed, out of breath. “He obviously knew you’d be in no condition to do anything, he was right.” She glared at him and he simply stared, shocked. She caught his glance and smirked, “Jet told me to use any means necessary, but he doesn’t know I can do that.” Jessica got up and held a hand out to Spike. “Come on, I need to get back to work.”

Spike sighed and let her pull him up, wincing as his head throbbed, and sucking in a breath. He instantly regretted that, rubbing his chest. He couldn’t believe that she could put that much force into a kick. He looked at her, closer than he had before, noting how she walked, how she held herself.

“How long have you been training?” He was careful to say it casually.

“About three years. I mostly taught myself, but I went to a training camp in Japan last summer, sort of.” She grimaced at the self-reminder of exactly where she was. She stopped at the kitchen door and looked hard at him. “I’ll be keeping an eye on the hallway so go do something.” She frowned, hating that she sounded like she was talking to a child. “Lunch will be ready in a few minutes.”

Spike half-leaned, half-slouched against the door frame across from her, “I think I might stay here.”

She rolled her eyes at him and turned the stove back on.