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Faye stared back with open, intent eyes. They shifted upwards, hoping if she didn't look Spike in the eye, she could find the right words.
"Wow. You're more fucked up than I am," she finally muttered. But it was enough for Spike to hear, and he groaned and buried his face onto the table, sinking lower in his chair, trying to disappear into nothing. In front of him sat a cup of hydration that he had slowly been nursing the past half hour. “And.... And I don’t have a past. Or a family. Or my memory!”
“Thanks for the praise, Valentine,” Spike groaned in response.
“I just mean… Vicious? What kind of name is that ? And… dude. You were literally a bad guy! I can’t even… I mean yeah we kill people but like… A best friend named Vicious?!” She was really hung up on the entire thing, it was hard to choose where to express her surprise first. Spike coughed, but she wasn’t done. “And Julia? That bitch is straight up traumatized. And… oh my God, does Jet know?” she asked as Ein waddled into the kitchen where Spike was at the counter.
Little did she know, Jet was coming back into the room to wash his hands after fiddling with the Bebop. “What does Jet Maybe Know?” he asked, not really caring but enjoying stirring the pot.
“My history with The Syndicate,” Spike shrugged, taking another swig.
Faye tensed her shoulders and peered over at Jet.
“Oh yeah, he’s always been a shady fuck,” Jet spoke over his shoulder, voice almost drowned out by the running water.