Beboptober 2022 - Tumblr Posts

Old Fashioned Cowboy

The sound of spurs rang out in the quiet of the storage compartment of the Bebop. And then - silence. Silence for a few tense moments that was abruptly broken by a whistling song - a rather iconic one often featured in spaghetti westerns from way back even before Faye's time.

The sound of slow and steady footsteps, ringing out with the jangle of the spurs, resumed.

A brief commotion ensued over by the entrance to the room as two figures, hidden in shadow, waged a slap battle over turning on the overhead lights. Naturally, Faye won because Spike was still recuperating and his position in a wheelchair gave Faye the height advantage which put her in a better spot to turn on the lights.

Suddenly an entire town was revealed before them.

Wooden crates and cardboard boxes of varying sizes had been arranged along the walls of the large room which had been recently emptied out entirely to allow enough space for the construction which had consumed an entire week of Ed's time.

She'd painted windows onto many of the boxes and had even cut doors into some of the larger boxes. The crates had been built up into a sort of corral at the far end of the room and were currently encircling Ein who was dressed in a costume to look like a horse. He was lying down at the moment, snoring softly and wholly uninterested in what was about to take place.

Quite of few of the boxes had words written on them in giant blocky letters stating their purpose such as...

Doc's Hospital: You Break 'Em, We'll Remake 'Em!

Whiskey Willie's Wet Your Whistle Saloon

Hair of the Dog Bar & Brewery

Down in the Mouth Drinks for That What Ales You!

Copper Your Bets Casino

The Hokey-Pokey Jailhouse

Ticky-Tacky Tack & Tails Stable

The pair at the door shared a surprised look as they took in the surroundings.

There were drawings of horses, townsfolk, and various old west themed plants all along the cardboard boxes. There was a thin layer of sand covering most of the floor in the middle of the room. There was even what looked like a tumbleweed sitting in front of one of the saloons.

"Maybe you're right, Faye. Ed might be picking up a bit too much from our drinking habits." Spike muttered as he read the business names.

"Oh hush, you." Faye replied in an undertone. "You'd better start whistling again, she's looking a little ornery over there."

Indeed, Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky the 4th was frowning at them. She had her hands planted firmly on the butts of a pair of guns tucked into holsters on each hip, a pair of cowboy boots that nearly reached her knees on each foot, a leather vest with fringes dangling from every hem and edge open over her white tee shirt which had a sheriff's badge drawn on it in marker and subsequently crossed out, and a cowboy hat set jauntily on her head.

"You're in a bad box now, you dirty scoundrel!" Ed shouted in their direction. "What're you doing jawing at the air, Miss Faye Faye? Get a wiggle on! You're like to get caught in the crossfire if'n ya stay put where ya at!"

Spike choked on laughter, which interrupted his whistling, as Faye scowled at the young hacker and stalked further into the room. She'd been excited at first by Ed's desire to play Wild Wild West because she'd assumed that her role would be a chorus girl or in charge of the brothel - for the sheer pleasure of the costume involved, not because she wanted to portray a promiscuous role.

Ed had other ideas.

Spike's convalescent status meant he wasn't given a role, though Ed was happy to put him to work handling the soundtrack of her adventures.

Faye meanwhile was regulated to "prospector hoping to strike it rich" and had been stuffed into layer after layer of scratchy heavy clothing and for extra attention to detail, had been liberally decorated with dirt smeared on her face and hands.

"I reckon I'll be able to get your dust back, ma'am!" Ed went on. "I may be just an old fashioned cowboy, but I aim to win back your claim and I ain't yet met a soul who can outgun me! I've got an ace in the hole and a snake in my boot and 'Ol Rusty you've done met your match now that ya met me!"

"Ah you're barkin' at a knot, QuickDraw Kid!" Jet's voice boomed into the room as he stepped into the doorway and paused for dramatic effect.

Ed had gone all out on his outfit. It started at the bottom... worn leather boots - much better fitted to his feet than Ed's - adorned with the very spurs that had been ominously ringing out as Jet approached, with denim blue jeans tucked in. The denim itself was mostly covered by a pair of assless chaps and held up by a tooled leather belt with a giant metal buckle and hung with a holster that held a faux .45 caliber single action revolver on one hip and a coiled up lasso on the other. His upper body was clad in a button up rust colored cotton long sleeve shirt with imitation pearl snaps beneath a plain leather vest with loads of loose strings to indicate where patches had previously been. A broad brimmed authentic Stetson hat completed the effect.

"Today ain't your day, Rusty!" Ed exclaimed. She whistled sharply and Ein perked up to trot over to her. "I done gave up my job as sheriff just ta be able to shoot you dead without no paperwork involved! You looking to die, old man? Give up the claim to Miss Faye's creek and we can all go belly up to the bar for a cold one!"

"You're in cahoots together! I ain't about to give up a damn thing to some obnoxious broad!" Jet roared back.

"Hey now!" Faye interrupted, though neither Jet nor Ed paid her any mind.

"Oh you gone and done it now, Rusty! Ya shoulda made tracks when I gave ya the chance!"

"Oh I'm in for it now, eh?"

"I reckon you sure are!" Ed moved to stand over Ein. "Me an' this here Deputy Dog are gonna get you, ya filthy varmint!" She grinned wildly. "Now, get ready to draw in 3...2...1... let's jam!"

No Hero

A sultry voice drifted from the entryway of the tavern as Spike made his way in past a couple as they held open the door to leave. Slow and sensual, the voice demanded answers - not from the audience but from life itself. Gradually, the woman's inquisition rose from queries into a full throated cry of her need.

Where have all the good men gone and where are all the gods? Where's the streetwise Hercules to fight the rising odds?

It wasn't a song Spike was familiar with but that wasn't saying much. He tended more towards blues, jazz, and instrumentals. Naturally Faye would gravitate towards powerful female ballads. Well, he couldn't fault her for it - she certainly had the vocal cords to handle the passion of the lyrics she chose.

The people who frequented the karaoke bar all thought she was a rising star. A soulful beauty with a keen brilliance that kept her churning out new songs.

Of course, Spike knew she was just rehashing music from before the Gate Accident - particularly tunes she was fairly sure had been lost since then. Ed was pretty good about scouring the interwebs for anything Faye could recall in case it had been recovered, but there was plenty that had been destroyed in those tumultuous days that only existed now thanks to Faye's recently returned memories.

She could be on her way to the top, in fact. No one knew except the Bebop crew about her personal knowledge of the actual original song writers and singers. And even then, music was often copied or remixed or bought out from the originators or whoever held ownership of the notes.

But Faye didn't bother. Maybe it was due to her own scruples. Maybe she secretly didn't want a life of fortune and fame despite bemoaning her lack thereof to her shipmates endlessly. Whatever the reason, Faye kept her singing as merely a side gig and not even a paid one at that. She seemed to relish simply showing up at a bar and wowing all the patrons.

Somewhere after midnight in my wildest fantasy... Somewhere just beyond my reach...                        There's someone reaching back for me!

Spike purposefully kept his back to the stage as he made his way to the bar, signalling for the bartender as he went. He didn't need to look to know Faye was there, reaching imploringly towards a rapt crowd, hope shining in her glimmering green eyes.

He'd been to this establishment before and recognized the buxom blond who was currently helping another lush further down the way. She looked like an airhead but she made a mean martini (Faye's favorite fancy drink) and knew that Spike liked two fingers of whiskey, neat. She also knew that he didn't care to make conversation, which was frankly a relief given how some bartenders were nosy bodies just itching to offer unasked for advice.

After she left the drink, Spike found himself staring at the wood grain of the bar. Idly he traced his pointer finger around a wet circular smear left by some previous glass of the night. What manner of person ordered a drink with ice? Something doomed to perspire onto whatever surface it was placed.

It was Callisto, after all. Sure, the moon had begun to see an influx of the female persuasion at long last, but the temperatures remained bitterly cold all year. Most folks opted for warm drinks or something served at room temp. It was a trifling thing to fixate on, but Spike liked to consider oddities and the why of them.

Up where the mountains meet the heaven above...             Out where the lightning splits the sea...                  I could swear there is someone somewhere watching me...

The allure was too much to resist. Her voice was like a siren call no matter how he tried - however feebly - to distract himself. But he was strong enough to avoid turning on his stool. He could be discreet. He could be coy. The view of Faye, clad in a ridiculous satin evening gown that clung to her curves, with a split in the bodice that plunged recklessly between her breasts to nearly her navel... That view was just as wonderful seen in the reflection of the glass behind the wall of bottles as it would have been had he stared right at her.

There was no need to give her the power here. No need to display his weakness for her charm. Indifference had been a source of strength for him since he could recall. It had been the one thing to aid him in keeping her at bay during the first months of their cohabitation on the Bebop. Later, after his triumphant return (broken and bruised and bloodied, but what's new)... It had been his indifference that made her boil.

It was a petty victory but keeping his cool when she got fired up was still something to savor. Torturing himself (and her, apparently) was childish and pointless and for some reason was still his go-to response when emotions threatened to engulf him.

Her eyes would snap fire. Her words would carve ice. More than once he'd seen her hands tremble as she fought to keep from slapping or slugging him. Yet no matter how irate he made her, he could tell she saw through his act.

It was in the curl of her lip. In the way her gaze would skitter away. In the soft sigh she'd let slip before throwing her hands in the air and stalking away.

She knew his nonsense and she liked to play the game.

Lost in reminiscence of the woman on the stage, he nearly missed when the music changed and the atmosphere of the tavern shifted to correspond to the upbeat tempo of the next karaoke performer's choice. Unlike Faye, who sang from pure memory and with only the fumbling accompaniment of a band unused to her requests, the other acts would all be reciting off a projection of lyrics upon the wall.

She did love to outshine any competition.

Slender fingers tapped the bar in a quick double beat right next to the slowly evaporating water ring. In no time at all the blond deposited a dry martini next to Spike's drink. He kept his gaze on the bottles across the bar, eyeing her in the reflection as she raked her own gaze over his body from top to toe and back again.

Her gaze on him stoked the fire inside.

Finally swinging his eyes to her form, Spike smoothly presented a lighter from his pocket to spark to life the cigarette she'd pulled from a slim metal case that she kept strapped to her thigh with a garter belt.

Faye stared dead into his eyes, neither of them blinking, as she inhaled deeply and then exhaled a beat later, extinguishing the flame and enveloping them both in a plume of smoke.

"Why hello stranger," She murmured in greeting. Like always, Faye emanated life. There was something so refreshing about her. So intoxicating.

"I should warn you," His voice was low, nearly a whisper. Intimate in ways he shouldn't be with her. But, like always, he couldn't help himself. "I'm no hero, Faye."

Her laughter made his heart soar, though it was clearly at his expense. Or, since he wasn't offended at her reaction in the least, perhaps she wasn't so much laughing at him as laughing with him.

"Oh Spike," Faye took another drag of the cigarette and blew a few smoke rings in his direction. "A lady like myself has no need for a hero. Sometimes a song is just a song. Anyway..." She dragged a finger over his lower lip until he opened his mouth and she placed the cigarette there for him to puff on, freeing up both her hands to trail down past his lapels, teasing over his ribs, to splay her palms flat against his stomach over the worst of his scars.

"Anyway," She said again, giving him a lascivious smirk, "You're the one in need of rescue, after all..."

Royal Flush

It was harder to cheat at poker than dice but mainly because she had no sleeves to keep cards hidden up. No wonder Spike had insisted on cards. Still, Faye had spent a good portion of time learning how to bluff and how to read her opponent, so she was fairly confident in her ability to beat Spike.

He had a tell, after all, and that was all she needed.

Then again, Spike was far too clever for his own good. She didn't put it past him to be feigning a tell just to get her to lower her guard in false confidence.

They'd been playing for hours already while the ship floated dead in space. It wasn't the first time nor would it be the last time that they ran out of fuel and had to drift along until they reached a starbase or a planetary outpost. This time they at least had a pantry full of food. Ramen cups, but food nonetheless.

Jet had folded in a previous round and subsequently bailed entirely. Ed had been cast out of the game for repeatedly trying to play according to different rules. Ein hadn't been included in the first place even though Ed had insisted on his skills. Now it was down to just Spike and Faye.

They were playing heads up poker which was a more fast paced and aggressive form of the game. Naturally this suited both Spike and Faye just fine. They'd decided to play for cigarettes originally since it was the one commodity both had in spades. Shortly after Ed passed out, Spike had suggested strip poker but Faye had shot that down since she had so much less to lose.

Though his casual suggestion had certainly put some wild ideas in Faye's head. Which was probably all part of his plot to throw her off. He seemed too chill about her initial outraged reaction and hadn't even bothered to push for it. Instead he'd acquiesced to her rebuttle of loser washing the winner's zip craft.

He had his chin resting in his left hand and a smirk on his face as he fanned his cards lazily. He looked like the cat who got the cream. There was nothing left to do but lay down her own cards but Spike's expression and posture didn't faze her in the least. She knew hers was a winning hand. And she hadn't even needed to cheat!

"Four of a kind, read 'em and weep!" Faye called out, laying her hand down.

"Mm, such a shame." Spike mused, putting his own cards face down on the table.

Glee spread across Faye's face as she greedily gathered up the loose smokes on the coffee table.

"Shame indeed! My craft got covered in bird crap on that last mission," She told him without a hint of compassion.

"No no no, Faye... A shame for you!" Spike reached out and slowly flipped each of his cards over to reveal... "Royal Flush."

"What!" Faye squawked. "But you didn't even slow blink!"

He snorted. "You thought I had a tell? Aww, poor Faye-Faye!" A grin stretched across his face. "Gotta say I'm looking forward to our next dock. Seeing you in a swim suit getting suds all over my... cockpit..."

Faye's cheeks burned red. "Why you dirty-"

"Well, it's my ship that's dirty but..."

"Ugh. I'm done playing." Faye grumped. She let the cigarettes spill back onto the coffee table and then snatched one up as an afterthought. "I'm bumming one of these."

Spike blinked at her slowly. "I'll spot you another... If you need one after a round in my quarters."

"Ohh you think I'm gonna play you again?" Faye purred at him. "I got news for you, buddy. I don't play games in bed." She stood up then and stuck a hand down to take his and yank him to his feet. "But I'm ready for a reeeeeal good workout. If you think you can make me sweat..."

Hitchhiker on the Space Highway

The girl twisted the knob with reckless abandon, shifting through static and stations without a care. Sometimes she'd stop to listen to what came through but mostly it just felt good to turn the little knob.

It had ridges all around which enabled her to grip it with her thumb and pointer finger with ease. All too often these days the buttons to push were smooth and seamlessly integrated into screens. How boring.

This little knob was a relic of the past. A past long forgotten and almost wholly abandoned.

Even here on Earth, a land where stubborn survivors repurposed and utilized everything available, it wasn't a commonplace bit of equipment. She'd scavenged the entire radio unit from a military base that had been heavily damaged by meteors. There were a lot of modern technological scraps on the base, but much more interesting to her were the devices stuffed into a small room at the end of an underground tunnel.

There had been all sorts of cords and cables and knobs and dials and other bits and pieces down there. Dust coated everything inside so much that she'd coughed and coughed and coughed as she grabbed as much as she could carry in her pockets and in the satchel she made with a threadbare towel she carried with her everywhere.

The towel was getting thinner and thinner as time went by. It had been in rough shape when she'd initially taken it from the orphanage and she'd used it plenty since then. It worked to dry her off, to keep her somewhat warm in lieu of a blanket or to cushion her head as a pillow (the usage depending largely on the temperature of the planet whenever she grew tired) and it worked well to bundle up treasures when she traveled.

It had several holes these days so she knew it wouldn't hold up much longer. Nothing on Earth lasted forever and things in her life seemed especially impermanent. Adults came and went - or else she herself was the one to move along.

Uprooting her own life had become something of a pastime. There was too much to see and do and experience to stay in one place for ever and ever and ever. How dull!

Lately she'd spent a lot of time staring at the stars. She'd spent daysweeksmonths journeying from here to there on the planet. Usually on her own two feet but sometimes hitchhiking if the opportunity presented itself. That was usually dangerous though. People who gave her a lift - whether by plane, train, or automobile, or even on a boat! - they seemed to want to bring her home. Give her a place to learn and grow and live.

It was sometimes a tempting notion. But there was something inside that kept her too ansty to settle down. Too distractible to hold still. She'd tried it a time or two and it never really took.

Maybe it was because life here was so stagnant. So stale.

Life amongst the stars though...

There was a poetry to the thought.

A hunger had been slowly building within her, one which could not be sated by sustenance. She had met plenty of people here on Earth and had seen a lot of the planet in her quest for adventure and excitement. She was curious now about everywhere else. Moons, planets, asteroids, space stations... there was so much yet to discover! So many people living lives she couldn't even imagine.

"Haaaaaalloooooooo out there!" She cried into the microphone she'd recently affixed to the radio. "Testing, testing, one two THREE!" As she spoke, she spun the knob a few more times for good measure.

"Hello?" A crackling over the line. A response!

"Ahoy hoy!" She replied jubilantly. "Who goes there?!"

"Uh... who goes where? This is Love Machine, on Moon Angel. Who is this? What's your ship?" The voice answered.

"It is I! Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky the 4th! Hailing from EARTH!" The girl grinned madly, though there was no video feed to project her visage outward into the universe.

"Earth? Humph. Nothing good comes from Earth." The voice muttered. "What're you doing on this line? What do you need?"

"Need? Ed wants to hitch a ride! Far away to the stars, up and up and up! Don't be afraid to come to Earth - we're mostly harmless here!"

"Ed... you sound too young to be hitchhiking. The galaxy is a pretty dangerous place, kid! Anyway I'm not about to steal some child from their home even if you're trying to run away. You mosey along back to your folks and grow up a bit more and then come looking for a way off the planet, hey? Take it from Love Machine, it's a wild wild world out here and you can't get by just on a smile. You take care now, okay?"

The radio returned to silence. Ed sat blinking in confusion. "Too young to fly to the stars? Ohh no! Edward wants to go!" She crossed her arms and crossed her legs and tried to cross her eyebrows but a serious frown was all she could manage there. "No home, no folks, no way out? No no no, this will never do! But maybe the funky love machine is right... Ed isn't prepared to leave just yet... ooooooh, Ed knows what to do though! Research and investigate and LOOK DEEPER. There's got to be good people who would want to bring Ed along on their trip around the sun. But whooooooo? Yay! Ed has a mission now! Look out, outer space! Ed is going to find her way one of these days, yup yup yup!"

Free Fall

I don't feel a thing...

and I stop remembering...

the days are just like moments turned to hours...

Shattered glass caught a thousand reflections of a defeated man plunging in a free fall towards the unforgiving ground.

Eyes stared blankly up at the sky, unseeing.

The only images playing in Spike's vision were ghosts of the past.

A woman - neither angel nor devil, merely inherently human - who may as well no longer exist.

A man - a friend, a comrade, a partner - who had become an enemy.

No. He was the one who had changed. He had spurned his bosses and betrayed everyone he'd known and stood beside for so many tumultuous years.

And now he was falling...falling...falling into an uncertain infinity.

Vicious was within the cathedral still - perhaps caught in the explosion from the grenade Spike had lobbed back inside before his weightless plummet began.

Weightless, formless... Back to the beginning, to be born again. Start over, start fresh, do better this time. Except...

He could feel the weight of his own body dragging him towards the ground. The weight of his conscience pulling him guiltily towards personal truths he'd rather avoid.

His body was in free fall but so too was his mind.

Was this a dream then? Was anything ever real?

Collateral Damage

"You coming back to life is worse on me than this glass."

She'd been jokingly serious at the time. Well, more serious than joking. Nothing truly terrible had befallen her at that point but Annie had been well aware of the potential fallout of interacting with a dead man. Even if the rumors of his demise had been greatly exaggerated.

For her sake, he should have stayed dead.

Months later, she was just collateral damage in the unavoidable feud between two asshole men with too much pride. Brothers in arms, they'd been. Cut from the same cloth and all that. Until one day something within Spike had changed. His soul had cried out against their lifestyle and he'd subsequently altered course which had somehow bound their destinies together in bloody finality.

Many people would lay the blame at Julia's feet. Hell, even Annie probably thought that Julia was the cause of Spike's deviation. Although she'd adored them together - was in fact one of the few not only aware but also supportive of their union - she had been as wrong as the rest.

Julia, and Spike's helpless love for her, were separate from the shift in his conscience that had led him to undergo such an obnoxious change of heart. Her hands, in their own fashion, had been just as bloodstained as anyone's in the Syndicate, after all. And she'd never truly been driven to seek escape.

But he didn't care to think about Julia right now. The beautiful phantom trying to wrap him around her pinky yet again. No, her love was both freeing and a trap, and above all only served her own purpose despite whatever good it did him in the process. These days that good was far less than it'd been back then.

Anastasia...

The woman who'd watched Spike grow from a troubled youth filching porno from her store into a deadeyed sharpshooter jumping at the beck and call of the Van. The woman who'd quietly served the Syndicate in her own way - which should have lent her protection! Her value to the Red Dragons should have outweighed the flimsy bond of her affiliation with Spike.

She was a fence and operated a Red Dragon weapons cache. She should have been immune to repercussion despite her ties with Spike. She should have never been at risk of such a lethal reprisal.

Vicious wasn't playing fair. He was flouting the rules of the game. It had been one thing to take out Mao - no matter how Spike felt about that. Arguments could be made for the necessity of it and likely had been since the Van had ultimately permitted such an act without consequence to the perpetrator.

The Van would never have allowed this. Resources such as Annie were valuable and respected. There was simply no sense in murdering anyone and everyone who'd known a renegade member of the Syndicate, especially if those other folks were loyal members themselves. That renegade's friends and family - if such existed outside of the Syndicate - sure, those individuals were considered expendable and used as a threat to keep people in line. But Annie was a Dragon through and through. She'd been there for the rise of Mao and the indoctrination of both Spike and Vicious.

She was off limits.

Clearly the Van was no longer calling shots. Most likely they'd been ousted as well. Annie had suspected as much given what she'd told him before dying. This entire thing reeked of Vicious. A bloody coup utilizing scorched earth policy. It was mindless brutality.

Jet's injury had been collateral damage in a way, though anything he or Faye or - heaven forbid, even Ed - suffered would have been considered an appropriate response to having aided and abetted Spike in his abandonment of the Syndicate. There was no protection for any of them.

Jet understood that. Faye probably would as well if she knew the situation better. Ed though, wherever she was, she wouldn't have had a clue that anyone was gunning for her simply because she'd been on board the wrong ship and befriended the wrong man.

All these thoughts raced through Spike's mind as he rifled through Annie's store of artillery while Julia looked on. He didn't bother to glance back at her, uncaring of the expression she wore. He didn't need to read her cues any longer. Her role in his life was over and done as far as he was concerned. Extracting her from this situation was the only thing he still owed her, if indeed he owed her a damn thing at all.

But Annie... His heart clenched. She shouldn't have been a target, dammit!

And now Jet, nursing a bullet wound on his broken down ship. And Faye, who'd returned despite her hot words - she was always coming back, no matter what her voice claimed. They were going to be killed.

A steely resolve had settled over him. It had begun to blanket him long before this but now there was no escaping it.

Even Ed would be doomed if he didn't end it now.

Vicious had shown what he was capable of, and it was indeed monstrous. Collateral damage and then some.

Annie...

So this was it. He'd rescue Julia after all, no matter if she wanted that or not, and then he'd face the beast. Finish it at last. Sever their connection and ensure that Vicious could no longer hurt anyone he cared for.

It should have been done long ago but he'd been too weak. Bested at the cathedral and then treated like a pawn piece of no consequence on Callisto. He should have tracked Vicious down after that but his head had been full of contemplation and realizations that had shuttered his heart and kept him distracted.

He'd been a fool to think things could stay the way they were.

To think no one would get hurt.

Annie...

Julia was talking to him. He tuned in, listening with half an ear while the rest of him remained consumed with pain as he remembered his last two encounters with Annie and all the better times before that.

"I'm sorry." Spike told her then, speaking not to Julia but to Annie's spirit. "I'm gonna make a bit of a scene."

Ah, who was he fooling - she'd expect nothing less from him.

In that case, it was time to do her proud.

This Drink's On Me

"I got this one,"

Jet turned on his barstool at the unexpected offer. Faye snorted at the no-doubt incredulous look on his face.

"What?" He asked, intelligently.

She rolled her eyes. "This drink-" She waved to indicate the beverage newly set before him, "it's on me."

Giving her a suspicious stare, Jet picked up the glass.

"This is very unlike you, Faye. What's the deal?"

"Can't a girl do something nice for her comrades once in a while?" Faye demanded petulantly.

Still regarding her warily, Jet took a sip of the bourbon. His eyebrows rose at the unexpected flavor on his tongue.

"Hey now, that's some top shelf stuff! Barrel aged on Ganymede but the original barrels themselves were brought over from Earth before the Gate Incident. Since then someone thought to plant oak trees on a few of the floating islands so now new barrels can be charred and used. There's only two families on Ganymede that have the ability to churn this out. I'm surprised a seedy joint like these even carries it." Jet said, making sure the bartender wasn't in earshot before slurring the establishment they were in.

"Mm, Spike suggested it but I should have known ordering something called Spirit of Ganymede would end in me getting some useless history lesson from you." Faye shook her head and took her own glass into hand as she pushed out of her lean against the bar to sashay her way towards the back of the dimly lit tavern.

Spike's distinctive mop of hair was only just visible back there among the cluster of pool tables. Shaking his head at Faye's fickle nature, Jet took another slow pull of the bourbon whiskey, savoring it as it settled on his tongue. Trees were few and far between on Ganymede and so there were only a handful of coopers to make the barrels in the first place, but thankfully the barrels had a lifespan of about sixty years.

His father had once taken him on a tour at the Albatross Distillery. It had been an incredible experience that culminated with a relaxing hour spent sampling various bourbons in front of a grand fireplace while a live band played. It had been one of the last times Jet had been able to spend with his old man before his dad died, in fact.

Lost in memory, he was startled when Spike showed up at his elbow wearing a bemused grin and gazing at the slowly closing back door of the pub.

"With how many drinks that woman put down it's no wonder she's headed for the alley to sick up." The other man remarked, shaking his head.

Jet finished his own glass and moved to set it onto the bar just as the bartender came over with a lengthy slip of paper.

"What's this?" Jet asked when the gentleman handed it to him.

"The lady said you're taking care of the tab, sir." The bartender explained helpfully before moving away as another customer summoned him over.

"Wait, what?!" Jet looked at the bill and then up at Spike. "She said drinks were on her!"

Spike laughed. "That wasn't what she said to me before she dipped. It was something along the lines of... He wishes my mouth was what broke? Let's see whose broke now!"

Jet groaned. "I knew her offer was too good to be true! Hey, Spike, got any woolongs on...you..." Jet trailed off as he watched his partner disappearing out the front door with a jaunty little wave. Another glance at the bill revealed it was for more than just Jet and Faye's drinks. Had they orchestrated this together?!

"If sir is ready to pay..." The bartender was back, looking worriedly from the swiftly closing front door to Jet himself. "Apologies but your companions have left the building and the tab must be closed."

Sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, Jet looked back down at the bill with a weary sigh. "What's your policy on folks a bit short perhaps?" He flashed a quick grin to reassure the fellow. "This arm may not look made for immersion in water but lemme tell ya I'm real good at washing dishes!"

(featuring dialogue & description from a transcript of the Wild Horses session of Cowboy Bebop)

Sacrifice

It happened so fast. Then again, that's how most things went wrong in his life. The majority was spent idling time away in a haze of smoke or an alcohol-induced stupor, lazing around the Bebop. Those long hours were often interrupted by high stakes bounty chases and that's where it all tended to unravel in spectacular fashion...much like today going up against the space pirates...

Earth space. Spike continues chasing the pirates.

SPIKE: So let's see what ya got...

GEORGE: He's here.

HARMAN: Waste of time.

Spike hides under the haul and fires at the harpoon.

HARMAN: He's after the arm...

GEORGE: He's not taking us seriously! Ruth!

RUTH: Ready to go anytime.

GEORGE: Take that!

George releases the haul. Behind the truck are dozens of harpoon guns.

RUTH: Welcome...

Spike dodges them.

SPIKE: Excellent!

Harman locks on to Spike.

HARMAN: Bingo!

Spike barely dodges Harman's harpoon shot.

RUTH: He's holding up pretty well.

Spike is finally hit by a harpoon.

JET: Cut off the mono-system!

SPIKE: I'm doing it!

RUTH: That idiot cut off his mono-system!

HARMAN: Hey... George...

RUTH: And he's in Earth's gravitational field...

The pirates truck are hit by a harpoon.

Doohan's office. Miles runs in with the radio.

MILES: Old man! Here, here!

They overhear Spike and Jet's communication.

MILES: This is pretty bad!

JET: Align the D7. Ya did it before, right?

SPIKE: Like I remember!

Earth space. The pirates are being pulled into Earth's atmosphere.

GEORGE: No good... There's nothing we can do...

HARMAN: You idiot! Hurry up and do something about this!

GEORGE: Dammit... Move! MOVE!

RUTH: Falling... We're falling!

Spike rewires Swordfish.

JET: Spike, I'll be right there. I'm calculating an interception course. Until then, keep control manually somehow. Even if everything was normal, it'd be tough to get outta here.

SPIKE: I can see that. And I just had it overhauled...

Meteors crash into Swordfish.

SPIKE: Oh well. Whatever happens, happens.

Spike dodges meteors.

JET: Spike, above you.

Spike sees the Bebop above him.

SPIKE: Your tattered ship looks like a goddess!

The pirates' truck crashes into a meteor and explodes, harpoons fly upward.

SPIKE: Shit, the virus...

It wasn't even a conscious thought. It was merely a knee jerk instinctive reaction to intercept. Self-sacrifice to save his companions. And why not? He'd died before anyway, what was another death to him? Particularly one that would keep the others alive and well. Even if he'd had the time and capability of considering an alternate option, he'd choose to put himself between them and danger any day of the week.

Spike flies low and uses Swordfish to block the harpoons from hitting the Bebop.

JET: Spike!

SPIKE: I'm still alive!

JET: We have to start over!

Doohan's hanger.

MILES: No way! Old man, ya gotta be kidding! Are you really gonna move this ancient piece of -

Miles laughs.

DOOHAN: Do you think I'd do this as a joke? Don't just stand there! Hurry up and get me some fuel!

MILES: All right!

Earth space. Swordfish slowly falls into Earth's atmosphere.

JET: Spike, can you hear me? I got a calculation. It'll take another 7 hours for us to rendezvous.

SPIKE: Come on, you're joking, right?

JET: We're too close to Earth. The orbital paths I can take are limited!

SPIKE: Isn't there a  way for you to just swing on by?

JET: If I plunge in at this angle, both the Bebop and the Swordfish will burn to nothing!

Swordfish's underside begins to burn.

There was still no regret over his choice. He'd always lived a fatalistic life, it was bound to catch up with him one of these days. Of course the others would no doubt be upset over his sacrifice - though they'd be alive and well to rue his absence so it was still a win in his books.

SPIKE: Jet... I have some booze hidden behind the fridge. Feel free to drink some.

JET: Something wrong?!

SPIKE: I'm outta gas. Nothing I can do now.

Doohan communicates to Spike through the radio.

DOOHAN: How about I go there and tow you back, in exchange for that booze? I heard the conversation. Give me the Swordfish's coordinates.

SPIKE: Doohan?! How the hell do you - ?!

Doohan's hanger. Doohan prepares to launch the old space shuttle.

DOOHAN: Spike, I don't care how ya do it, but slow down using an air-brake.

SPIKE: Slow down?

DOOHAN: If you slow down within Earth's atmosphere the gravitational pull will accelerate you instead which will give you enough speed to escape. However, you have to maintain the ship at a certain angle. Too far either way, and you'll be thrown out to the other end of the universe.

SPIKE: Unfortunately, I'm not one for delicate controls.

DOOHAN: Spike... I know you can do it. I didn't give you the Swordfish for nothing.

SPIKE: Don't you start crashing, either!

In the shuttle.

MILES: Maximum propulsion.

DOOHAN: You didn't have to force yourself to come with me.

MILES: You know how Blue Sox fans love to party!

DOOHAN: Let's go!

MILES: All right!

The shuttle takes off.

MILES: We're flying... We're REALLY flying!

Earth Space.

JET: Lower the nose by 0.6 degrees.

Spike lowers too far.

JET: You're in too deep! Spike, you'll burn to a crisp!

Spike spots Doohan's shuttle. The back of the shuttle opens up.

DOOHAN: This is the last chance!

Spike breaks off Swordfish's wings and falls into the shuttle.

MILES: It went in! It went in! That was perfect!

SPIKE: Doohan, you saved me.

DOOHAN: Not quite. Most of the heat-resistant tiles have peeled off. The temperature is rising...

MILES: T-The landing gear isn't coming down either!

DOOHAN: Oh yeah, and the #2 nozzle won't work either.

MILES: WHAT!? Is that for real? What are we gonna do? We can't land without them!

SPIKE: Oh well... Whatever happens, happens.

MILES: I KNEW I shouldn't have come up here! I'm still too young to die!

Spike spared a flash of sympathy for the younger man. He and Doohan had lived lives full of success and regrets, neither man cared overly much about their own survival in the grand scheme of things. But chatterbox Miles was basically just a kid. Far too young to sacrifice himself in an attempt to rescue a fool like Spike.

Fortunately for the lot of them, a crash landing was all that they had to worry about. Self sacrifice didn't have to end in death, after all!

Something Good

Ed often asked for souvenirs when the crew went places. She wasn't always allowed off the ship herself depending on where they were. Sometimes she disembarked without their knowledge but other times when they were out in space she couldn't leave just to satisfy her own curiosity.

It was the down side of not having her own zip craft.

Maybe she could build one though? Spike-person had a vessel that had been built by his mechanic-dad. They were back on Earth now so maybe she could find him Spike's mechanic-dad and have him help her!

But first, Faye-Faye. She had promised Ed something good if Ed showed her the water-sploosh fountain.

It was nice when the crew brought presents back for Ed but it was even nicer when she was able to trade for gifts. Getting something was infinitely better when you gave something in turn.

The hour was early when they left the Bebop-Bebop which meant missing out on Jet-person's breakfast meal. They didn't have much food on the ship so it wouldn't have been a gourmet meal at any rate but Jet-person always put his heart into the food he served everyone.

Spike-person was always critical about the food but quick to scarf it down. Faye-Faye never complained with her mouth but her expressions said plenty. Still, she ate with as much gusto as anyone else. Food was a privilege for people with lives like theirs. It wasn't every day that they could eat!

Today Ed was going to take advantage of the opportunity that had presented itself. She was going to bring Faye-Faye to the orphanage-home that Ed had lived at before! It had been years since Ed herself was there, but she remembered well the other children and the delicious food that Sister Clara made.

To Ed's delight, the orphanage was still in one piece. Considering the ever-present hail of meteorites that rained down on Earth, this was by no means a guarantee. Most of the kids Ed had known were still there as well!

Faye-Faye seemed disheartened by Ed's water-sploosh but Faye-Faye didn't realize this was just one stop on the way to the real deal. As far as teasing went, Ed simply wasn't well versed in how to do it successfully. Faye-Faye tried to leave in the middle of the meal!

Ed admitted the subterfuge then, not wanting Faye-Faye to leave sad. For good measure, Ed reminded her about the 'something good' that had been promised. People like Faye-Faye and Spike-person and even Jet-person never seemed to trust that someone else would be true to their word, at least not without the assurance of something in return. Truthfully Ed didn't care about a reward but she knew Faye-Faye would be suspicious of a kindness without strings attached.

To Ed's surprise, Sister Clara had something good for Ed!

It was a tiny hologram projection of a man who looked vaguely familiar. Ed's father-person?! She was perplexed but intrigued!

Later, after they left the orphanage and Ed directed Faye to the fountain for real, Faye-Faye surprised Ed as well. She gave Ed a pinwheel that she'd taken from the orphanage!

"Sister Clara said ties are important and to cherish them," Faye explained as she blew on the pinwheel to make it spin. "So, this is something good to remind you of your ties to a place you used to live and the good people there." She handed the pinwheel to Ed and then wandered towards the fountain.

Ed played with the pinwheel in the grass. She couldn't wait to show Ein the good things she'd gotten today! But she could tell Faye wanted some privacy and so she let the older woman take the time she needed to lean on the railing and look out at the fountain.

It was a shock when they left so abruptly a little while later, but Ed was used to the crew needing to leave places in a hurry. Anyway she was glad to return to the ship so she could show off her treasures! Besides, she wanted to research father-person to find out more about him! And she had a plan for how to track him down in person too!

Later and later and later, Ed discovered Faye-Faye about to leave again. Curious, Ed sought answers and received a quest mission instead!

Faye-Faye spoke of belonging and how Ed had someone waiting for her somewhere. She said that belonging was the best thing (better than something good?!?) and told Ed that she should look for it.

Ed felt a belonging here on the Bebop. But what if there was another belonging out there?

When Jet-person and Spike-person left in pursuit of the bounty she'd put on her father, she knew it was time to act! Taking control of the Bebop was easy since she still had a remote for the great vessel. Landing it was even easier than flying it - just point it at the ground (water or dirt, didn't matter!) and skim across the top until you stop!

Seeing father-person in person was an electric shock. Her heart recognized him and she saw his eyes light up when he recognized her instantly too! In a matter of moments it was like old times when she'd been very young. Laughing joyously, Ed performed acrobatics as he tossed her in the air.

Afterwards, Ed made introductions so her family would all know one another. Her father even invited her along on his mission! Before she could formulate a response, however, he was gone in a flash with his helper hurrying along at his side.

Bewildered but still happy at the reception she'd gotten, she went back aboard the ship with the others. Her mind was full of thoughts and ideas and notions. Faye-Faye's words kept coming back to her.

Her father was a busy man but it seemed like he wanted her around. She was curious about his mission and curious about his friend and curious about him too! Besides, she wanted to fill him in on all the time they'd been apart. There was so much to ask him about and so much to tell!

Before she knew it, her mind was made up. It would be harder to track him down in the future so she may as well make the most of her chance right now. Besides, she knew she had a place here so she could always come back one day.

But still...if she was leaving to pursue the best thing...perhaps she could leave the others with something good.

Grabbing up the pinwheel, she dashed off to find Spike-person. Afterwards, she'd pack her things and leave them a note so they wouldn't worry.

***

Something Good

Being unexpectedly on Earth was not the worst thing ever but it certainly put a damper on their fugitive hunt. And though he wouldn't admit it, it bothered him that the girls made this detour and bailed without explaining themselves.

Their return calmed his worries but he still got no answers as to the why of it all. Spike told him to leave it alone but it chafed to do so. Playing off his concerns, he made up a reason - hunger - which seemed as sound as anything else he could think of.

Spike gave him a look as if he knew Jet was feigning his cavalier attitude, but he wasn't - not entirely. Food was a big deal and a lack of it could certainly make people act irrationally.

They didn't have much on the ship to turn into a meal but ...oh ho? A bounty worth 50 million could bring in plenty of meat! Feeding the girls might seem a simple solution and indeed it probably wouldn't solve all their problems, but it was a small good thing in troubled times.

So that was the plan! Bring in the bounty, bring home the bacon, and give the girls something good to cheer up and bring them back to themselves.

Runaway

Run away!

It had been the only sensible thought that erupted through the chaos in the wake of Whitney's death (that lying deep-in-debt asshole who'd heaped a world of trouble onto her shoulders when she was already carrying a mess of trouble all her own.

Not like she'd asked to be rescued, iced, and brought back to life just to owe a fortune to a corrupt medical system.

They'd have to be corrupt to be going around thawing out cryo patients and tricking them into taking on someone else's monetary woes.

She sometimes wondered why they'd chosen her. Did they think she had a savings account somewhere? Was she secretly an heiress? Was there a load of riches in her name (oh but what even was her name?!) just waiting to be claimed?

Questions without answers.

And meanwhile she'd assumed the cops were on her tail. For the scene she'd caused in the hospital. For her own bills and the new ones she'd accrued.

Run. Run until you couldn't run any further. Then take some time to regroup. See if you can figure anything out. See if there's anyone around who might be kind and capable of help.

She'd met a woman who taught her to gamble and then disappeared, leaving Faye in a lurch.

She'd met a man with a rocket ship who'd foolishly wagered it in a game of poker and took him for that and all the woolongs that he had. Incensed, he'd tried to beat her down.

Run, little Faye. Runaway and save your life.

She met more people. Sad people, bad people, mad people.

Everyone was out to swindle everyone else. It was all a game and you'd better learn the rules real fast if you want to get ahead (she'd be satisfied with breaking even, to be honest).

Trust no one. Get them before they get you.

A few times she'd nearly been caught by debt collectors or by people she cheated at cards or dice. The answer was always to run.

Stay ahead of your enemies. Stay ahead of pursuit. Don't let your guard down. Don't reveal your true self (who even was her true self?!) and don't ever give your real name even if it's just something a doctor came up with for you.

Before meeting Jet and Spike (well, after a scheme fell apart in which she technically met Spike) she had tried to bolt. The lunkheads somehow ended up on the hood of her craft and she graciously brought them to their ship.

And what thanks did she get?!

So, naturally, she escaped and made sure to take everything she could.

Nearly everything had been taken from her since waking up.

Her dignity. Her sense of shame. Her trust in others. Her faith in the goodness of humanity.

Her memories had been taken (lost in the Accident but still).

Her freedom had been taken (she was a fugitive after all).

Her virginity had been threatened countless times (though she suspected she'd actually given that up before The Big Sleep...but that didn't give anyone the right to impose themselves upon her nowadays and you'd better believe they tried, without consent of course and thankfully without success).

The only way to stay safe was to stay moving.

Runaway.

Even after the Bebop boys had happened upon her again, as she drifted in her vessel with no fuel and no food and no idea what would happen next...

She stayed for a while. Too long, if you asked her.

She found herself falling for an asshole (and she'd already been through a shitty instance of that so what was she even thinking?!) and she ran again.

That time she was subconsciously hoping to be followed. To be reassured. When had her sensibility fled?

Jet discovered her in Gren's apartment. Toted her and her craft back to the ship like a wayward child. His demeanor on their return flight was surprisingly not hostile given how she'd left them in dire straits.

While it hadn't been Spike to recover her... It had been somewhat nice that Jet made the effort. He treated her like an errant child, but that was much more welcome than the way most men regarded her. It was comforting.

But by now her heart was tangled up in feelings. And so she spent more time off the ship than before. Betting on dogs and ponies and anything rather than betting on a man to do right by her.

When the packages arrived she ran again.

Runaway! Don't get caught! Trust no one!

Yet there was nowhere to go. There'd never been anywhere to escape to. The Bebop was the closest thing to a sanctuary she'd found in this unforgiving future.

Going back turned out to be a mistake. It brought her face to face with a girl she did not recognize. It forced her to see that once upon a time she'd been quite different. Shy and beloved and seemingly wealthy to at least some degree.

It rattled around in her brain for weeks. The knowledge that she'd had a good life once, surrounded by friends, growing up in a big house and clearly not lacking for toys.

And then Ed helped her find a piece of her past and it all started to come back to her painfully.

She ran again.

Run, runaway...

There's no place like home, there's no place like home, there's no... home.

Runaway

She stared at the pocket watch for hours that day.

She didn't wash the laundry. Her clothes - clean or dirty - all seemed wrong somehow. Like she'd been wearing the clothes of another woman all these years. Were these even her own fashion choices?

She didn't wash the dishes. Jet had left before breakfast and she hadn't bothered to make herself anything to eat so truthfully there were no dirty dishes to worry about. An empty sink, an empty life.

When had it begun being this tedious to live? When had she first noticed the loneliness seeping in? When had they given up on their love?

Did Jet even realize that they'd fallen apart?

She didn't think so. Then again, it had taken her until today to understand that her own unhappiness was driving her away. Away from the love she'd once bore for this man, this apartment, this shared life.

But with Jet the job always came first.

Oh, they had a roof over their head and food to eat and he was willing to buy her whatever dress or necklace or book she may want. He gave her all sorts of things to fill the hours. But nothing truly filled the void of his absence.

Not that she begrudged him his job. It was important work. It kept the streets of Ganymede cleaner and safer and all that jazz. It also kept him away for hours that often turned into days.

Had this really been the life she signed up for?

It felt wrong. She felt wrong. She wasn't herself anymore and wasn't sure when she had gotten lost in this sham of a relationship. She thought it might be killing her in fact.

And suddenly she was outside. Rain was falling falling falling to the ground but her spirits were beginning to slowly soar. What was happening? Where were her feet taking her? What was going on?!

She was running away. Escaping the comfort of the trap she'd been willing caught in for too long. Running from the shadow of a person she'd been and running towards the memory of who she'd once been. Perhaps there was still time to be that person again - or, no, that silly girl had led her into a stagnant routine. Perhaps it was time instead to be someone else. To try new things and make mistakes and grow.

She'd been a potted plant, cared for and admired. That was a fine life for some. But now she could be a wildflower - free to run rampant, unfettered and beholden to no one.

This one is for eclaire-and-pocky!

Procrastination

It was Faye who lit the fire under his ass.

A week had gone by. Maybe two. Time had lost whatever semblance of meaning it had had before.

Her eyes were red rimmed from crying - though she'd deny fiercely that she shed as much as a tear - and somehow the angry red brought out the green of her irises even more.

She'd also abandoned the vinyl yellow suit. Clad in only the shorts and tank top that she favored for lounge wear, she looked softer as she slouched into the hangar where he was working.

There was always something that needed to be done. He figured he'd start with Bebop and then patch up their zip craft afterwards. Financially it'd be a miracle if he could afford the parts to repair even one of their ships let alone all three.

Bounties were out of the question at the moment. With a bullet wound in his leg it was tough enough just getting around the ship. Faye could pick up some local jobs but she hadn't bothered yet. She'd spent her time bawling in her room as if the walls were soundproof. For her sake he pretended that they were.

He was standing by the RedTail taking stock of the damage - putting off starting the necessary repairs to the Bebop itself - when Faye emerged from the bowels of the vessel and approached him, carrying something with a purposeful stride.

She shoved a plate in front of his face. There was a shoddily made sandwich falling apart on it. Where she'd found meat was anyone's guess but it smelled fine so he figured it wasn't spoiled at any rate.

"What's this?"

"Food. You eat it and it gives you energy." She snarked.

He eyed her suspiciously as he shambled over to the edge of the Bebop to sit down and let his legs hang over the side. It felt good to take weight off his bad leg. Faye followed though she offered no help in lowering him to his ass - not that he would have accepted any assistance. She seemed pleased when he reached out to take the plate from her, handing it off so she could jut a hip and cross her arms and glance back at the busted up zip craft.

"Maybe after you eat you'll be ready to take care of some shit. Like getting us off this damn planet." She moved her glare around the harbor they were docked at. "What are we even still doing here? Fix the ship and let's go!"

"We waited days on Earth for you and Ed to return, you know." Jet muttered. He and Spike had both been hesitant to launch though they hadn't discussed why they were procrastinating. Spike's chain-smoking had spoken volumes all on its own.

"Yeah? How'd that work out for ya?" Faye jeered then, rubbing in the bitter fact that neither girl had meandered back in that time. Perhaps she was also now alluding to the unlikely odds of Spike staggering home.

It hurt to think of how little he knew of what had gone on. The remnants of the Red Dragons hadn't said shit to the ISSP when the authorities arrived at the hellish scene. Of course, no one ever really spoke to cops about private matters. All Jet had been able to discover was that it had been a blood bath, there were only a handful of survivors, and that the Swordfish II was at an impound lot.

The in-limbo status of the zip craft sure made Spike's survival seem implausible at best. But Jet didn't want to think about that so he turned the conversational table back on Faye.

"Why'd you even bother to come back now anyway?"

Faye sighed. She'd been glaring out over the water still but straightened her spine now as she turned to give him her full attention.

"That lunkhead said you needed me." Her voice was steady and her eyes had become strangely gentle. Had she somehow gotten past her own grief in the wake of Spike's departure? Women sure were odd creatures.

Faye eased herself down to sit alongside him. She didn't even wince at the temperature of the metal that had been warming in the sun all day. Then again it wasn't really hot out...a balmy day at best. Faye busied herself with looking at her hands in her lap as she wrung her fingers together restlessly before continuing to speak.

"I've never been needed before. Not really. Never thought I was wanted around much either. But, well, you've taken care of the lot of us plenty. And...I remembered that you came to get me on Callisto." She smiled wanly at the waves for a heartbeat and then seemed to come to a decision. Her hands settled on her thighs and she faced him again. "That meant a lot, you know. Even if you treated me like a delinquent daughter."

Jet huffed. "You're no kid." He told her plainly. "It's just...no woman should be alone there. That whole system is dangerous."

She rolled her eyes. "I could handle myself."

"You were cuffed and left on a bed in a pool of self deprecating sorrow when I found you." He reminded her, earning a scoff in response.

"I broke out of your custody before - I could have escaped that situation too." She shook her head. "Nevermind that. It wasn't a physical place I needed rescue from - it was the mindset I was in. And...well...you came through for me. Even though I'd left you all high and dry. You came looking for me and it wasn't for the money no matter what you claim. A girl knows when there's more at stake."

Faye reached over and took the plate out of his hands to set it on the hangar deck behind them.

She scooched closer and put her hands on his shoulders then, twisting his upper body to face her.

"There's something I've been procrastinating on doing... Something I've thought about doing since Callisto, really." With eyes wide open she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. Surprise kept him still but he could feel her grin against his expression of shock. It was that reaction of hers that made him wrap his arms around her and kiss back. Like hell was he gonna let her call the shots.

Breathless minutes later, they broke apart. They both turned forward to face the harbor, though Faye's right hand found its way to wrap around the metal fingers of his left hand.

"You should eat. And then...we'll get ready for launch. Maybe go scoop up the Swordfish. I've been thinking... he'd hate for it to just sit there. Maybe we bring it to Earth. We can look for Ed - just to check on her - and if she's happy...we can give it to her so she can come visit us sometimes. Or who knows maybe she'll wanna come with us and then, well, she'll need a ship of her own anyway." Faye shrugged. "We're getting nowhere just sitting here. I know you wanna think he'll waltz up whistling but... Well, never mind, you can work your way through grief however you need to. Just...if he did survive, you know he'll track us down eventually. We don't gotta stay here. So... whaddya say? Lunch, and then... Let's stop procrastinating, hey? It's time to live life."

Jet was dumbfounded. But her words made sense and her presence at his side was a relief. She leaned against him, as if to further prove that she was real and here. She'd never felt so stable before, never sounded so reliable. He hadn't realized he'd been so immersed in grief. Hadn't realized how much he needed someone else there. Faye was a balm to his heart and for once he found himself trusting that she'd stick around.

Maybe it was time to stop procrastinating... and get back to living. Whether or not Spike was out there somewhere, he'd want the others to carry on and not succumb to depression. Hell, if he was dead then he'd given his life just to ensure their safety.

With that in mind, Jet found himself tightening his hold on Faye's hand. Not much - he was often worried about the metal grip causing damage to delicate things - but enough that she glanced back at him from the corner of her eye and let him see her smile broaden.

Faye was right. It was time to live.

Alone Together

"You've been coming here every night." It's the fourth night that he's seen her and he's finally been unable to deny his own curiosity any longer. He's on a set break, or, well, he could just be done for the night. It's not as though the bar is full of patrons demanding an encore. In fact, aside from the bartender and the pianist, it's just him and her.

"Perhaps the music keeps bringing me back." Her voice is coy and playful but there is a sadness in her eyes.

"Women are an unusual sight here on Callisto, you know." He feels oddly protective of her, yet something tells him she can handle herself just fine, even here.

"It seemed like a fitting place to come to. A woman, all alone. It's good to be alone sometimes, you know." Despite her words, something about her seems not just alone but lonely too. Solitude can eat away at a person after a while.

"Are you asking me to leave?" He doesn't want to go home. Something about her is compelling him to stay, but he won't if it disturbs her.

"I'm asking you to play it for me... that song from the first night I walked in." Her gaze is wistful, her request intrigues him further.

"You're familiar with that tune? I'm surprised, no one else seems to know it." It's the truth. He's never heard it prior to the music box and no one else has ever seemed to recognize it when he's played.

"I'm an unusual woman." A Mona-Lisa smile touches her lips. "There's a certain sentiment it evokes for me. I wonder where you learned it." Her eyes trace over his instrument.

"It was a gift... a music box. From a comrade-in-arms." He hadn't told his story to anyone else. Who was there to talk to? But he felt a kinship to this stranger. This mysterious woman who somehow knew the song no one else knew.

"Ahh." She took in a deep breath, held it for a long moment, then let it out slowly. "I don't suppose you're in the mood for some company? I'll admit I'm tired of sitting on barstools and breathing smoky air."

He sensed there was something else she'd wanted to say. He wondered if she'd be more forthcoming if he invited her to his apartment. It was a place no one else had been. Did he want to bring her there? Her query seemed to suggest a coupling, but he was positive that wasn't what she was offering. Something about her seemed untouchable.

"I could be done here for the night." He admitted.

"Then... if you don't mind... it's just that I'm tired of being alone. For one night it would be nice to have someone to talk to."

He wondered if she felt the same draw to him that he felt to her. What was it about this woman? On a gut impulse, he nodded his head.

"I will honor your song request when we get to my place. And, truthfully, I would appreciate having someone to talk to as well. Just, promise you won't go telling my stories to anyone else?"

She laughed softly. "There's no one else in my life. I've chosen solitude as my companion, you see."

"Then, let me just put my sax in the case. She doesn't like the cold weather so I try to keep her safe. And then, we can spend some time alone - together."

Honesty Hour

"Up next on Honesty Hour: these three old men will compete for a chance to win--"

Spike sat up to hit the mute button as the camera panned over to three crotchety looking older men, two of whom seemed to be arguing while the third stared aimlessly off into the distance.

"What, you don't like that show?" Faye asked, looking up from her perch on the ledge as she filed her nails. "Myself, I've been thinking of applying to appear on it. The prize is 50 thousand woolongs, you know."

Spike snorted, lying back down to continue taking up the whole couch. "Yeah right, you couldn't tell the truth for five minutes let alone an entire hour."

Faye straightened up, setting the nail file aside. Ein moseyed up the stairs to sniff at it curiously as Faye got to her feet to stand with her hands balled into fists on her hips.

"Oh yeah? Like you're one to talk. Just because I don't know what the truth about my own life is doesn't mean I go around lying all the time!"

"Are you trying to say I lie all the time?" Spike demanded, not bothering to acknowledge Faye's indignant stance as he let his eyes follow the slow revolution of the ceiling fan overhead.

"And just who ate the last piyoko?" Faye retorted.

Ed, lying on the floor near the ladder to the bridge, gasped.

Nodding, Faye addressed the hacker. "That's right, Ed! I heard him tell you that Ein must've found the box but before that I saw him stuffing that little treat into his lying lips!"

"Hey now!" Spike abandoned his reclining position to shoot up to a sitting position. "That's rich coming from the woman who stole an entire carton of cigarettes from my room and then tried to convince me that I'd smoked them all in a whiskey stupor the night before!"

Faye preened a little at that. "Must not be out of the realm of possibility considering you bought that story."

"You blatantly lied! You'd be shit at that show!" Spike shouted.

Faye gasped. "I am the epitome of believable! I am the very image of innocence!"

Jet, who was sitting on the yellow chair as he stitched up Spike's suit jacket for the billionth time, laughed out loud.

Faye turned to glare at him, an eyebrow twitching in suppressed outrage. "Got something you wanna say, old man?" She asked in a dangerous tone. "Because I'm pretty sure I know who took the batteries out of Ed's noisemaker..."

The hacker child gasped again, looking with a stricken expression at Jet who studiously ignored her.

Though he did pause in his work to give Faye a decidedly wicked grin. "I don't think you want me to jump into this conversation considering I know you and Spike were both lying about your whereabouts last week when the shower got broken. So unless you want me to divulge my suspicions about how the shower got broken... And what happened to the bottle of Ed's bubble bath, not to mention her edible paints..."

Faye blanched and Spike looked alarmed too. Jet's grin broadened. Ed wailed.

"Why is Edward always the victim of these lies?!" She cried, flailing her arms in the air. Ein hurried over to lick at her face.

Faye and Jet looked contrite but Spike took her tears in stride.

"Oh are you though, Ed? Was it really Ein who ate all of Faye's lipstick tubes?" He asked calmly.

Ed's movements stilled abruptly and she faced Faye with a sheepish grin. "Ehehehehe... Tooty fruity tastes nothing like fruit at all! Why do they all have such yummy nummy names if they all taste the same? Yucky ucky!"

"Ed! You ate all my lipstick?"

The hacker pouted. "Spike-person said it was distracting how often you licked your lips. Ed figured the tubes must be tasty! Makeup is a lie!"

"Well, she's not wrong there," Jet muttered.

"All right, all right... So we're all guilty of passing the blame or stretching the truth..." Faye allowed, shrugging as if it were all inconsequential.

"Except Ein. But just because he can't speak doesn't mean he gets a pass. Sometimes he looks awful shady... I bet he's done some stuff that we've each chalked up to someone else being responsible for."

Everyone looked towards Ein, who sat next to Ed with as close to a grin as a dog can have. He let his tongue loll from his mouth and tilted his head slightly to the side, affecting a truly guileless pose.

"You're absolutely right." Faye agreed.

"That's a guilty mug if I've ever seen one." Jet concurred.

"He's told me some tall tales," Ed added then.

Ein frowned and made a whiny noise.

"Hey, it looks like that show is over. Big Shots is about to air!" Faye realized. She shoved Spike to the side so she could plop onto the couch. "Scoot over, let's see whose up for grabs!"

"Bounty time! Whose done the crime? Punch and Judy serving up justice!" Ed sang.

"Well, they broadcast about it..." Jet said.

"But we're the ones actually bringing justice!" Spike added on.

Ein barked affirmatively, glad the conversation had moved on from the honesty of dogs and one another.

Checkmate

Ed loved puzzles. She loved games and challenges and putting her inquisitive mind to work. She also adored visual tasks like MAGIC EYE and WHERE'S WALDO - though trying to find copies of either was, in and of itself, quite a struggle too.

Naturally, finding opponents could be just as difficult since it required a combination of having the time and the capability to play, having the interest to stay engaged, and being willing to put in some effort so that all parties were excited to continue the battle - whatever it may be.

Chess was something Ed had learned to do at the orphanage but it had been nearly impossible to find anyone to compete with. Most of the other kids preferred physical games like stacking competitions or feats of endurance or group activities - which was fine and dandy if you had a group who all wanted to play.

Ed had a group on the Bebop but hardly ever did all of her companions agree on a single important thing let alone something designed for idle time, for relaxation, for filling empty hours with a clever pursuit.

When they all came home toting chess pieces, Ed was immediately curious. When she realized each one held a chance to get into a serious game on the interwebs, she was positively thrilled. When it turned out that she was playing against a Grandmaster it seemed too good to be true!

Hour after hour, move after move, she was in the zone. Taking pieces and gaining ground, losing pieces and scrambling to keep the other player from hounding her King... It was a classic game with countless plays committed to books on the subject, yet against a true foe it was a painstaking process to toe the line of risk versus reward and each play was somehow new and unexpected.

It took days and it was DELIGHTFUL.

She had three pieces which equated to three games. For the first, she employed a method of gameplay similar to Spike-person's method of living life, which was mostly to fly by the seat of his pants. Brash and bold and wild, with no apparent forethought given to any move. It was a tactic which often infuriated grandmasters of the game. But not this person!

She lost but it had been thrilling to play so recklessly.

Next she thought of Faye-Faye as she played. Faye was truly like the Queen piece - capable of incredible moves and the most powerful when you got right down to it. The Queen also did whatever she could to protect and defend others, which Faye-Faye would deny but actions spoke louder than words.

Subterfuge and bluster were the name of the game when she used Faye-Faye as inspiration. It was a clever match that lasted longer than her original game and the grand master seemed just as pleased with this gameplay. Ed still lost.

The last game would be the most important because there were no more chances after this. Ed went into the third round with a determination that would have impressed even Jet, who she was channeling for this match. Well, Jet and Ein both with a splash of essence of Ed to keep things interesting.

The Jet approach required studious examination of the game board and attempts at considering things from all angles. The patience came into play from her adoption of Ein's lifestyle. As a former cop, Jet was skilled at reading a situation and considering potential consequences from this move or that, but he tended to rush into things. All humans did - Ed had observed that often enough throughout her life. Dogs, however... Sure, they'd go running off on a wild hare (sometimes literally she supposed) and they were often as easily distracted as Ed herself, but dogs also had an abundance of patience to draw upon.

Patience while waiting to go for a walk. Patience while awaiting a treat. Patience until their owners returned from work. All their lives they tended to be waiting for something or someone. And Ein was especially good at waiting for scraps or people. He was also especially good at games and Ed loved to go up against him.

With their skills combined with her own instinctive reactions, it was no surprise to her that the third game lasted days where the other games were only hours-long. She'd finally found a style that offered true competition to Grandmaster Hex!

The biggest surprise came after she was in her fourth wind. She hadn't slept, had barely eaten, couldn't even remember if she'd gotten up at any point to use the bathroom. There were plenty of opportunities for any of those things, of course, chess didn't require split second reactions the same way video games did. But the intensity of the match had her enthralled and she could think of nothing else.

And, just when it seemed as though he'd bested her again... Which would have been fine with her, she knew she'd played a good game and that was the important part... She finally saw the move that would end things in her favor.

Checkmate!

The Last Dance

He wondered at the gullibility of the Van. It seemed absurd, in light of their apparent ignorance, that such a foolish trio could have been in charge all this time. Yet even Mao had not foreseen his own inevitable demise.

How could these pathetic people have led the Syndicate for so long? Respect and fear had driven loyalty for decades, but for years now it had been beyond Vicious to feel either towards the Elders or Mao.

Complacency had usurped their power long before Vicious had determined his only possible course in life. The Red Dragons had been controlling Tharsis and beyond since before Vicious was even born. To join the Syndicate had been a dream for countless street rats hoping to make a name for themselves, to belong to something bigger and better, to secure fame and acclaim and the deference of others.

In the beginning, he too had been swayed to see the Elders and Capos as being invincible. All powerful. Dedicated to the brutal rule of the Red Dragons.

He and Spike had been in awe of these men. They had adhered to all the rules and obeyed all commands. They'd been indoctrinated to serve the masters with little to no thought of their own beyond blind ambition to rise in rank.

Indeed, for too many years they'd been merely puppets. Trained to dance in death, to operate in silence and efficiency, to handle all the messy affairs of the Elders who certainly could not be bothered to mete out punishment to everyone in or near the Syndicate itself.

They had been a lethal team, he and Spike. Driven by the desire to not only do as instructed but to do it so well that no one else could compare. They outclassed their brethren agents in no time and became the go-to warriors of the Van.

How many times had they been pointed in a direction and set loose? Regain control of this district. Eliminate that gang. Infiltrate these organizations and convert them to the Dragons. Administer cruelty when necessary, administer death when there was no alternative.

And oh they could dance the dance.

Trained in combat, they allowed instinct to guide them through situations that should have seen them dead. Time after time it was only thanks to their own ability to seamlessly flow together as a destructive pair that saw them through to the other side of battle.

Back to back or side by side, they advanced through the enemies and meticulously climbed the ranks. And it was all so easy. Their movements were liquid, vaporous, unable to be predicted by their opponents yet with each other it was as if they shared a mind. It was a crucial connection.

Even now, years after Spike's betrayal, Vicious could read his thoughts and anticipate his moves. Oh, the "cowboy" as he seemingly liked to be called, he'd grown as weak as Mao when it came to dealing with others, preferring compromise to crushing defeat. But unlike the Van, Spike would have seen right through Vicious's plot.

Indeed, Vicious was counting on that.

He'd given Spike a chance to redeem himself. A chance to let the blood of the beast reign supreme and bring him back into the fold. But then, on Callisto, it became despairingly obvious that Spike was truly unfit to be considered an equal anymore. Fettered by a foolish heart, still blind to the dangers of a simple woman, lashing out in rage that prevented understanding... Spike was pathetic.

Vicious had left that cold moon with the grudging awareness of his brother's ineptitude. Spike, to whom Vicious had been held in comparison for so long. Spike, the golden child Mao had favored. Spike was no Dragon any longer. He was merely a man that Vicious would need to slay at some point.

More pressing had been the need to cement the loyalty of his own underlings. To subvert power from the outdated rulers of the Syndicate. To plan and stage a coup so Vicious could take his rightful place at the head of the beast and lead the Red Dragons boldly into a future where they were beheld to no one and all other syndicates bowed to them.

He had orchestrated things beautifully. Had pulled puppet strings like a master. And now it was time to prepare for one final confrontation with his previous partner, the only obstacle that remained to threaten his own position at the top of the ladder.

Time for one last dance together - one last dance to the death.

Betrayal

Bile crept into the back of his throat, but he swallowed it back. There was an acidic churning in his gut, familiar and rotten. Not entirely unlike how he felt before leaving the ISSP, which made sense because he'd been sickened at the time by the corruption he'd finally realized was so prevalent. This, now, was a sucker punch of a reminder.

He'd started out so naïve. So idealistic. So pretentious and arrogantly convinced that his presence would make a difference. Would inspire his fellow officers to abide by the rules and make the right choices and do their best to serve and protect.

His service in the ISSP had been stellar but that was about all he could say. Nothing changed on the inside. Rats were still rats, bribes were still constantly changing hands, and only money or influence got you anywhere with the chief. Which chief? All of them. The rot was insidious and spread all the way to the top no matter which precinct you worked in.

So many other officers wielded their power in terrible ways and Jet had to admit even he had intentionally turned a blind eye to some of it. For a lot more of it, he'd somehow been truly unaware. What did that say about his intelligence? His awareness? His ability to follow what was going on?

And now this brutal upheaval to a relationship he'd once valued as much if not more than what he'd shared with Alisa. This was a betrayal moreso than her abandonment.

Realistically she hadn't betrayed him at all... She'd merely chosen herself over them together. It had been a rude awakening and he'd never actually understood what had compelled her departure until recently, but he knew now that she'd been doing the right thing for them both. There had been no other lover lurking in the shadows. She had just been seeking something he couldn't offer - something his love for her had kept him from seeing she needed. How ironic.

He'd learned a painful lesson when she left initially. But in discovering her again he'd been able to apply a balm to that old hurt. He'd been able to comprehend the reason at last.

This betrayal... What even was there to learn? He'd already known that justice was a sham. The cops were operating in their own best interest at any given time. There were no good cops because anyone who'd been like Jet himself was either run out of the force or gunned down. For him it had nearly been both. And for so long he'd operated under the assumption that Udai was responsible.

He'd know the ugly truth about the force and yet he'd foolishly believed that his partner was a good man much like himself. He'd thought they were cut from the same cloth, woven of a material that hardly existed anymore. And now, the blindfold had been yanked from his eyes.

The truth was awful. He felt gutted in a way no one else had ever managed. Sure, Spike screwed up missions sometimes but Jet knew to expect collateral damage and bills for destruction of property when it came to the other man. And yes, Faye was as fickle and flighty as any woman he'd ever known, but once again he was expecting it from her because he understood that to be her nature. Neither of his comrades were capable of letting him down because he kept his expectations of them as rock bottom as possible.

Perhaps subconsciously he'd learned that from experience. His father had had a habit of making promises that somehow broke. His mother had a way of leaving him in a lurch despite her best intentions. Only his grandmother had truly been there for him and even she had left at the worst time, though death of old age wasn't really something he could hold her responsible for.

The betrayal he'd felt from his chosen career had been a bitter pill to swallow. Once he realized there was no hope of being a good cop and staying a good cop. Everyone who had any sense of justice...who had a moral compass that guided them ... It was either beaten or bought out of them. If you can't convert 'em - get 'em locked up in a looney bin or in a coffin. That was how good cops were treated by buddies on their own squad, and by their bosses, and by the syndicates who silently pulled strings and ran the world.

He'd managed to get out without too much of a cost to his own soul. Sure, his cheek bone had been shattered and rebuilt. Yeah, his arm had been destroyed and replaced by a metal one. And he'd made that choice - to wear a fixture like a badge of honor instead of simply getting the real deal. He'd wanted the reminder. A reminder of what though?

No longer was it a reminder of the danger of the job and the cruelty of the enemy. No longer was it there to keep him from rushing headlong into situations he thought he was ready for.

The socket where his metal arm met his flesh ached horribly.

It resonated with the agony that was tearing through his heart.

Fad...how? Why? For how long was he sneaking around and undermining our attempts to shut down the European Syndicate? When did he sell his soul? And how didn't I know? How didn't I see it coming? Why didn't he just kill me that night?

He'd never get any answers. He'd never find any peace. This would remain an open sore until he finally left this life.

Slowly, he found his mind resolving itself to that truth. It was jagged and uncomfortable but there was no changing what was. The bile sloshed in his belly but stayed out, no longer threatening to spew from his lips. There was nothing to confront anymore in his own past, there was just debris to sweep under the rug and avoid acknowledging if possible.

Distantly, he became aware of a childish voice chattering at him.

When had he returned to the Bebop?

Routine must have led him home.

Home. A smelly perpetually broken down halfway house for a bunch of losers and layabouts and, for whatever reason...Ed.

It mystified him as to why she thought they were worth a damn. Why she'd chosen their ship and their companionship when they were all such sad sacks.

It was her voice now, rejoicing over his unexpected return and explaining the situation in the bonsai room, that anchored him in the present.

Ein was weaving around both of their feet as they stood now in the doorway of the flooded room. The little dog looked warily at the wreckage and then up at Jet, clearly anticipating a grumpy reaction. Ed, oblivious to his dark mood, kept nattering on about the names she'd given the plants and telling how much they'd enjoyed the monsoon she'd showered them with.

Jet didn't have it in him to be angry. But... to his surprise, the emptiness that had been consuming him... that was receding.

Ed had taken his orders and done the best she could to care for the plants he'd entrusted her with.

Unlike Spike or Faye, either of whom would have no doubt forgotten to check on the bonsai entirely, Ed had handled the job with her own sense of how it was to be done. Wrong and badly, of course, but he couldn't blame her when he'd never instructed her on the proper way to water the plants.

Hope sputtered to life in his chest, burning away some of the noxious feelings Fad's betrayal had evoked within him.

He'd been through some shit in his day. Some of which was only now coming to light. But he'd survived and made it to here, on this rusty vessel with these hapless humans and one smarter than average dog.

He had one goal in mind now. To care for Ed in all the ways his own parents had failed him. To help her keep her innocence in this world of deception and dishonesty and disillusionment. He'd do his utmost to never betray her and to keep her safe and happy.

It was far better to look towards the future than it was to stagnate alongside disappointing memories of the past. No betrayals were going to hold him back from being the best example he could manage.

Mushroom Hunting

Even as abnormally intelligent as Ein was, he wasn't impervious to making a mistake every now and again. He laid the blame on this erroneous instance on being hungrier than usual. Who wouldn't have eaten a mushroom in starvation? Particularly when said mushroom had been toted around by a human.

Ein knew wild mushrooms were hit or miss and that the 'miss' could sometimes be lethal. He'd foolishly trusted that the goofy man hadn't had a stash of deadly 'shrooms.

No, these mushrooms had quite a different - though certainly not deadly - effect on the consumer.

Normally he'd have shared the treat with Ed. She was a kind kid and Ein's favorite member of the crew. But for once Ein had been too ravenous to be generous and in retrospect he was grateful for his own rude behavior. He was positive that Ed - while she might have enjoyed the strange trip - absolutely did not need to experience the side effects of the 'shroom.

It was difficult enough to wrangle her as it was! Keeping an eye on her to keep her safe would have likely proved impossible. Ein was clever and resourceful but even he had limits.

Thankfully Ed was clever as well and when Ein had begun hiccuping and acting odd she'd understood that the mushroom had been to blame. Further research had been necessary and, at her side, Ein had observed - once he came down from his own high - the effects on the rest of the crew.

An introspective journey that more or less trapped them in one place. Hearing Jet giggle had been rewarding, if unexpected. Seeing Spike step along to nowhere had been a relief as there were many places on the ship that could prove dangerous to someone tripping the light fantastic. And Faye's aerobic exercising seemed at least a healthy output of energy.

Truth be told, things were still a little fuzzy for Ein himself at that point. The world had mostly returned to normal but the edges were still a blur as he and Ed watched the announcement on Big Shot. They instantly recognized the guy - Domino Walker - from their encounter with him earlier.

Ed's eyes lit up and Ein could practically see the gears turning in her mind. Hunger was still gnawing at both of them and hunger is always a powerful influence.

"Shes's a cowgirl Ein! We earn money and buy food! Ein, you're a cow-woof-woof!" Ed exclaimed.

Ein had to admit it was a good idea. Money meant a way to secure sustenance - that was literally the whole reason the rest of the crew ever went and did anything - and he and Ed had a better chance than other bounty hunters at getting this one in the bag! They had already run into him, after all, and Ein still had his scent in his nose.

It was time to gear up and get going on this mushroom man hunt!

Don't Lose Me

"And now for a big cheer... from the bottom of my heart. Go! Go! Me, me, me! Do your best, do your best! Me, me, me! Don't lose, don't lose! Me, me, me!"

The image on the screen bounced around joyfully for a bit longer before freezing in place, though words continued to echo from the speakers of the small television.

Faye couldn't hear the rest of the young girl's chant. Her ears were ringing and her mind had gone momentarily blank. Emotional blackout. Confusion reigned and her body took control, leading her stumbling backward down the hallway until she reached an open door and tumbled into the room to land in a sprawl on the cold metal floor.

Numbly, she registered that it was Spike's seldom-used bedroom that she'd entered. His was closer to the living room so this made sense. It was one of the few things that did at the moment.

So that was what had been delivered? It wasn't debt collectors hounding her after all... it was somehow something worse.

It had to have been herself. A child Faye. A specter from a forgotten time. A phantom projected into the future, intruding into the life of the woman she'd become.

"Don't! Lose! Me!"

The spirited plea of the video message played on a loop in her mind.

'Oh honey,' Faye thought then, 'oh you sweet pitiful child... You're long gone, sad to say. Gone and truly forgotten. More lost than you could ever imagine.'

Tears welled in her eyes. Even having seen that evidence of her own life from however many years before... it triggered nothing. No cascade of memories unlocked, no comprehension of who the other children were or where the video had been filmed or familiarity from any of the images of a girl's bedroom - HER bedroom.

Frustration began to fill her. It was so unfair! Her lack of a past, rubbed in her face like this... what a cruel trick! This was worse than losing at the tracks. This was humiliating and infuriating. The others had seen the video - knew now for themselves that Faye had been... Well, that thing on the tape. That bashful, bright eyed idiot.

They knew as much about her past now as she did. It might as well have been a movie starring someone none of them had ever met. Faye certainly felt no kinship to the little girl that had cheered on the screen. But, oh, how she wanted to.

Her heart was racing. Her breathing was turning rapid and shallow. She blinked but her vision remained wavery from the unshed tears that were no doubt about to blind her completely. It was appalling but she was on the verge of a breakdown. This, at least, was something she was familiar with. This was something she could endure because she'd lived through episodes like this before.

A scuffling sound in the hall made her draw a shaky arm across her face to dash the impending tears from her eyes and clear her vision to some degree.

Slouched just beyond the doorframe, hands tucked into his pockets, Spike stood and took in her quaking form and impending self-destruction with a critical eye. He said nothing, but withdrew one hand from his pants pocket to rummage in a pocket of his suit jacket for a moment. Brown eyes stayed trained on her, softened in compassion though his expression remained carefully neutral.

Jet's voice called something down the hall, making Spike turn slightly back towards the living room.

He pulled a crumpled package of cigarettes from his pocket and then a lighter as well. Tossing both items onto the unmade bed just behind Faye, he gave her a simple nod before casually pressing the button to close the door to his room and walking back to the others.

Faye watched his retreat until the door shut entirely, enclosing her in a much needed section of privacy. His kindness startled her, but she couldn't begin to think about that now.

"Don't! Lose! Me Me Me!"

Sobs spilled out of her as she wrapped her arms around herself and leaned back against the bed, which sat on a metal shelf much like the mattress in her own room. She was grateful for the solidity of the ship beneath her trembling body. It felt good to have something real to rest against, cold though it was.

Huddling in a pathetic ball on the floor of Spike's room, Faye let herself come completely undone. A cathartic release, Jet would say. Letting out the bad sads, Ed would sing. She knew now that Spike wouldn't speak - he'd just share a smoke or a drink, which was ultimately the perfect response. She didn't need platitudes or advice or pity. She didn't even need sympathy right now, truth be told. She just needed to fall apart.

Maybe then she could piece herself back together into something that beautiful little stranger would recognize.

'Little girl lost, oh where can you be? Maybe someday my memories will come back to me...'

Legacy

The elevator ride was silent as Mao rode with his security team to the Great Hall on one of the uppermost levels of the Red Dragon Tharsis Headquarters. He took in the view through the glass wall as the cart trundled quietly along its track, grateful for the peace of the moment that enveloped the small space. It was no small thing he was on his way to do, after all.

The sky had been clear all day - which he took as a sign that everything was moving into clarity. Now, some clouds were meandering into the airspace above the congestion of the city, but the sun was still beaming down on the skyscrapers such as the one he was presently in. Sunset was not far off, but for the time being it was as bright and warm as a person could hope for. Tharsis was well known for its rain, which even the weather control satellites had been unable to completely control. It amused him to think of the weather being as unruly and difficult to tame as the syndicates which thrived on the planet.

It had taken ages to convince the Van of his idea, but thankfully the White Tiger Capos seemed just as ready to bury the hatchet. Cooperation between their syndicates would mean more power, riches, and respect for them all. After so many years of rivalry, of violence and loss of life, this pact between them would usher in a brand new era of peace and prosperity. It would be his legacy - a fitting way to put a cap on years of dedicated service and all the recent effort he'd put into consolidation. The treaty, on a scroll tucked neatly under his arm, would finalize all the talking points that had been covered in the long months leading up to this day. That the Van trusted him to manage this meeting on his own was a source of pride that he had no shame in acknowledging. Pride had its place in life, as long as one didn't permit pride to control.

There was very little he was actually proud of, in fact. Regrets he had in spades, but accomplishments were few and far between. Once upon a time, he'd had the joy of recruiting and training some of the strongest candidates to one day take over the syndicate - and oh, how proud he'd been of those boys, boasting and bragging about their every achievement and conquest - but it had all fallen apart. The dream died when Spike died. Even if he secretly believed that Spike still lived, a hope that he had shared only with Annie, there was no chance for the future he'd once worked so hard to assure.

Years had passed by since that bleak day and Mao had turned his sights towards other worthwhile goals. And now, finally, the greatest would come to pass.

To transmute the bloodshed of the syndicate rivalry into a pact of solidarity that would see both into a glorious future... that was a legacy he could indeed revel in. A feat to stoke his ego, to make up for the shadow that had been cast upon the city for so long, to bring relief to his troubled mind. He would always carry the weight of his decisions, of the acts he'd condoned and the missions he'd set soldiers on. It would be good to have something pure and true to give back to the people, something they need not fear.

The doors slid open behind him and two members of his security team exited to swiftly survey the floor.

Mao took another moment to enjoy the scene spread before him. The Great Hall had enormous windows of its own to regale visitors with the cityscape stretched out below, and he was quite partial to that view as well, but it would be with new eyes that he gazed out of those windows. This would be the last time he would stare out at Tharsis as a city beleaguered by the incessant conflict of the two most powerful syndicates on Mars. It was a somber thing to take in. When he moved into the other room, he would sit with his back to the colossal windows so the White Tiger Capo could behold the grandeur behind Mao. It wouldn't be until the signatures were put to paper that he would be comfortable with turning his back on the other man and letting the splendor of the city - with all the shining promise it held - greet his eyes.

The sun would set on a day that would live in infamy. Tomorrow, a tentative new peace would dawn on Tharsis.

His legacy would soon unfold.