Beboptober 2023 - Tumblr Posts

Daybreak

A time of promise. All the possible potential for an amazing day stretching out as far as the sun's rays could reach. A cloudless sky, no halo of moon debris looming above, merely rainbow hues heralding the stately rise of the sun.

Fresh air, a cool breeze, and birdsong. What more could a person desire?

"Faye… hey, Faye… FAYE! Wake up!" An irritating voice cut through the lilting tunes of the birds. The enticing aroma of a burning cigarette filtered through the fresh air.

And suddenly she was taken from the idyllic moment of peace and transported to an uncomfortable couch with no sun creeping to hang overhead but rather the dull gray walls and the slowly spinning ceiling fan making its regular rotations overhead.

Rubbing her eyes, she turned her head slightly to see Spike's long lean legs at eye level. Her gaze traveled further, over his stringbean body bent in half at the waist to his face not far from her own and the smoking cigarette clamped in between his lips.

"You're hogging the couch." He muttered.

Scowling, she pushed up on her elbows and then, in a move too fast for him to anticipate given her groggy state, she snatched the cigarette from him as she propelled herself into a fully seated state.

He rolled his eyes at her antics but didn't battle her to reclaim his property. Instead he slumped down beside her on the couch and kicked his feet up on the table before them.

"Daytime already?" She asked then, yawning hugely as she held his cigarette in the hand opposite the side he was sitting on.

"Does it matter? We're nowhere right now."

Ugh. That meant hours of loafing around the ship trying to avoid Jet and any chores he might try to assign. Hours of boredom before they got anywhere that might have work for them to do. Hours of… why the fuck had Spike woken her up for nothing?

"You jackass," she uttered then. "I was having the best dream. Watching a sunrise as the world slowly woke up all around me."

Spike snorted. "That's not much of a best dream."

She took a few angry puffs of his cigarette. "Oh yeah? What's yours then if you're such a good judge of such matters?"

He blinked at her. Silence reigned for several moments and then, as she stubbed out the cigarette when she finally thought he wasn't going to say anything at all, he spoke again.

"All right. Maybe that is a pretty good dream." He let his head rest on the back of the couch to stare at the spinning fan. "Wanna share it with me?"

Yawning again, Faye shifted to be sitting nearer and leaned over so her temple brushed against the wild poof of his hair.

"You're just lucky I'm such a nice girl." She murmured, already drowsing. "For waking me up you deserve for me to dream you into some uncomfortable situations."

Spike chuckled. "It's dawn of your day, yeah? Sounds like we've got plenty of time for that to happen still.'

The River

The tall grasses along the shore tickled at her calves as she obediently faced the sluggishly moving water. The sky above was a gorgeous blue streaked with just a few white clouds that occasionally drifted between the scorching sun and the planet below, providing a hint of a chill for those few moments when she was engulfed in the shade.

It was hot but not too hot - not the type of heat that made sweat stand out on her body even if she was doing nothing but standing still. This was the type of heat that relaxed her muscles and made her want to stretch like a cat before possibly curling up for a nap.

Well, maybe later on the nap. She figured Spike had some other intentions for occupying her waking hours and even if he didn’t, she did.

They’d been dancing around each other as awkwardly as a pair of preteens discovering their crush knew of their existence and it had begun to be slightly ridiculous. Jet laughed at them often which was frankly infuriating even if it was nice to hear laughter on the ship again. The sound of a saline drip, the terrifying drone of a flatline, the pained whimpers of a feverish man… she could do without hearing those noises again for the rest of her lifetime.

It had been a few weeks since Spike had been cleared for active duty again - considered fit enough to return to hunting bounties with her and Jet, and able-bodied enough to jump back into his normal workout routine. Something she’d stumbled upon, blushing madly, enough times to begin to suspect that he purposely chose to do it when he knew she’d be traipsing around.

As payback, she made sure to nearly run into him after every shower she took. Hair damp, face flushed, body smooth and fragrant from the soap and shampoo and oils she applied… shielded solely by a threadbare towel that barely wrapped around her svelte form… oh, she knew exactly what type of tease she was being when she did that.

But aside from their mutual torment of one another - purely physical - there had been no actual communication between them to signify what was going on. Clearly there was something… but she wasn’t ready to make the first move. She’d already given up as much as she could. She came running back when he called (okay, so she came reluctantly back because she felt an odd obligation to relay Julia’s message to him) and then letting him leave when she was falling apart and needed him to stay. She’d basically bared her heart in that hallway, admitting that the ship was home - moreover, that the company on the ship was what drew her back and made it a home - and had begged him not to die.

In all fairness, he hadn’t died and he hadn’t truly intended to despite the long odds against his survival. And Jet had grumpily explained the ruthless nature of syndicates, something she hadn’t fully understood, until he reminded her about Meifa’s father and the lengths he went to in his own attempt to escape. How anyone connected to the deserter would be used as leverage to get the fleeing party to return, only for all involved to be murdered at that point.

They were lucky Spike had been so thorough in wiping out the Red Dragons. The few he’d left standing had been sitting ducks when Faye had shown up in the Hammerhead to finish the job.

Discovering Spike had been clinging to life had been like turning to what you thought was the final page of a book only to realize there were entire novels yet to be read. She’d acted fast and commandeered the ambulance that had arrived on the scene so that Spike could be drawn back from the brink of death by actual medical professionals. Once they’d stabilized him, she’d ordered them at gunpoint to bring them to the crash site of the Bebop.

Jet had been aghast, certain they’d be facing all sorts of criminal charges for her actions, but she knew better. The response time alone indicated that they were in the service of the syndicate and a little bribery and a strong threat had eased her own mind about potential repercussions they might face.

Still, Jet had worked his ass off to get the Bebop in shape to launch and collect the missing zipcraft - both of which, his and Spike’s, had ended up in the impound lot. Faye, who had been in charge of keeping Spike alive while Jet tended to the ship, had felt guilty enough to offer to sell her own ship to get theirs back. Thankfully, Jet’s connections had enabled them to retrieve the craft without her needing to sacrifice hers, but now he was out of blackmail and they were well beyond broke.

So they’d run from Mars before anyone could try to catch them for the innumerable offenses recently committed. Earth was the only option for a safe harbor, literally. The Junkyard had been a passing thought but while they could have taken refuge there, it would have been difficult to make any money to get out of the deep hole they were in. So, to Earth they fled - Earth, with no parking fees as long as you knew where to land your ship and lay anchor. Earth, with no shortage of small fry bounties but no big scores to offer either. Earth, with the glimmer of a chance to reunite with the wildchild hacker and data dog… Earth, where Doohan and Miles were grudgingly willing to help with repairs as Spike continued to heal.

And Faye had taken flight herself then. Knowing Spike was in good hands - Miles had proven an adequate nurse, much to Doohan’s gruff amusement… Knowing Jet had competent assistance and someone to bitch to about the way things had shaken out lately… Faye had felt assured enough to take some time for herself to try and process her own heart and mind and future.

She’d wrangle up bounties, cash them under Jet’s name (business as usual there, she’d never used her own identity when bringing in bounties since she was technically still one herself), and sometimes she’d bring back groceries as well. There were systems in place still that she remembered hearing about when she was young. Well, more accurately she had remembered that her parents had been charitable with some of their fortune, and she had helped a time or two with doling out foodstuffs to the needy.

Now she was one of the needy, but at least she knew where to turn to get the basics of meals.

With money trickling in, fulfilling her self-appointed responsibility of providing meals for the guys, she gave over the evenings to herself and took off as dusk set in. She went to all the places she remembered just to see if anything was the same. She tracked down all the names she could come up with, just to see if anyone was still around. She asked about Ed wherever she went, though in truth she suspected the girl would only be found when she wanted to be found.

Mostly, Faye went to the bars and drank and sang.

She hadn’t thought anyone back on the ship knew what she was doing. Doohan never went to any town except to get parts. Miles liked sports but not enough to want to watch the games in pubs. Spike was in and out of consciousness and then in and out of approachability once he was awake more often than not. He never asked where she went, never seemed interested in her departure though she thought she saw relief whenever she returned. And Jet was always busy doing his own thing - she should have remembered he was a cop first and that meant he was not only capable of tracking her down, but that he was also astute enough to pick up on clues she accidentally left scattered around.

Although singing in the shower didn’t seem like much of a clue, more like a dead giveaway.

She hadn’t realized he had shared this knowledge with Spike. Not until she finally turned from the riverbank at Spike’s call and saw a small portable karaoke machine sitting beside a blanket spread on the ground with a picnic basket set on top.

“What… what is all this?”

Spike looked insufferably proud. It was an expression that once would have irritated her beyond belief, but seeing it now… given the effort he had clearly gone to on her behalf, it melted her heart and gave her hope. He’d been curmudgeonly for a while after surviving his showdown, going through stages of grief and anger and denial and all that. It had only been recently that he’d shown evidence of still experiencing other emotions. Of perhaps wanting to keep living at last.

“You’ve been doing so much for us… for me. You’ve been gone before I get up half the time, scurrying back just as I’m about to pass out for the night… you’ve been living a lonely life, Faye. Busying yourself with work, distracting yourself with errands, surrounding yourself with strangers that cheer you on but don’t know you from Jack. And… nice as it’s been to run into you on occasion,” his smirk told her that he knew about her motive for slipping past him after getting all suds up in the shower, “I’ve been feeling pretty lonely without you around.”

Her cheeks felt hot and not from the sun. Butterflies were putting on quite an air show in her belly. The warmth in his gaze was making her heart soar. He took a step towards her, skirting the edge of the blanket, and then another and another until he was standing right before her.

“If I follow you to the river… send my blues out to the sea… will you stay with me forever? Will you chase me in my dreams?” He spoke to her softly, his mismatched eyes steady on her own.

“Jet told you about my singing?” She whispered, brow furrowed. She hadn’t expected him to know the actual lyrics of the song that had been endlessly looping through her thoughts.

Spike smiled at her, a smile like the one he’d given her when she woke after the Brain Scratch incident. “Jet didn’t have to tell me anything. I could hear you in there myself. Faye, you ran into me after nearly every shower… didn’t you wonder why I was waiting outside the door so often? I know I accused you of being tone-deaf before but… well, I was being a jerk on purpose. I didn’t want to feel the way you were making me feel. Just a young, dumb kid trying to push away the thing he didn’t know he needed most.”

Her mouth dropped open. Well, okay him overhearing her singing should have been obvious to her but for him to admit all the rest…

“Sing for me? Please? You’ve poured your heart and soul out to countless nobodies who don’t realize what a gift they’re receiving… I won’t make the mistake I made before, Faye. These days I know to treasure priceless things. And I want to learn about everything that makes you light up, that make you brave, that make you… you.”

She reached up and put her hands on his hips and yanked him bodily into herself. Her heart was beating a mile a minute and she longed to bring her lips to his to devour him whole. But first… a little something to take the edge off, because she was going to combust if she didn’t alleviate the intensity of the moment somehow.

“Oh Spike…” She rose up on tiptoes to bring her mouth to his ear. “Is that a microphone in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” She tugged his earlobe with her teeth at the end of her question and was delighted to hear him gasp.

He shifted his lower half against her in a gentle grind that almost had her undone. “Guess you’ll have to investigate if you wanna find out…”

*

I could've sworn this was the way Tell me again, why do we stay On such a lonely, lonely, lonely road? You'd never guess, I'd never know We're on the same side and it's gonna Be a lonely, lonely, lonely road

If I follow you to the river Send my blues out to the sea Will you stay with me forever? Will you chase me in my dreams? If I throw it all in the river And let the rhythm take the lead Will it stay with you whenever That you lean on me?

Ooh, I know, I know Ooh, I know

You had a choice I couldn't make And this is the last turn that you take On a lonely, lonely, lonely road Give me your hand, here is my heart Where does it end? When do we start? On a lonely, lonely, lonely road

If I follow you to the river Send my blues out to the sea Will you stay with me forever? Will you chase me in my dreams? If I throw it all in the river And let the rhythm take the lead Will it stay with you whenever That you lean on me?

Ooh, I know, I know Ooh, I know

I'm an echo in your shadow And your shadows, I'm in too deep In the river, your reflection Is a promise you couldn't keep I know, I know, I know, I know, I know I lost you here I know, I know, I know, I know, I know I took you here I know, I know, I know, I know, I know I lost you here I know, I know, I know, I know, I know This is fair

Oh, ah Ooh-ah Ooh-ah, ah Ooh-ah If I follow you to the river

If I follow you to the river (If I follow you to the river, if I follow you to the river) And your shadows, run out so deep Oh, if I follow you to the river (if I ever see you there) And your shadows, in the river, your reflection Is a promise you couldn't keep I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, if I (ooh, oh) If I follow you to the river (ooh, whoa, oh, oh, oh, oh) If I follow you there (to the river) In the river, your reflection (oh, if I follow you to the river) Is a promise you couldn't keep I know, I know, I know, I know, I know I lost you here I'm an echo, and your shadow Oh, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know I lost you here I know, I know I love you now

C'Mon

Euphoria.

Am I out of my head? Am I out of my mind? Am I dead or am I sleeping? Am I really still alive?

The questions tumbled end over end in his thoughts. He felt lighter than air, released of responsibilities and truly free for perhaps the first time ever. He knew on some level that he was falling. Knew that he was losing a lot of blood and was probably soon to lose consciousness too.

Or perhaps he already had. Was he still falling? Was he suspended in midair as time slowed down to cradle his collapse to the ground?

Memories flashed before his eyes… lives he’d touched, loves he’d lost (he counted everyone who had a piece of his heart as a former love, different than a former lover of course) and it was such a relief to know that he didn’t have to carry the weight of all the terrible things he’d done.

I’ll just set it down for a moment. I can always pick it up again when I’m ready to rise.

It had been dark when he started this mission… he’d flown off into the sunset, half convinced he’d never see another dawn. He knew he wouldn’t make it home that night. But now… now it was growing light. The sunrise of a new day… a new life ready to be embraced at last.

Possibilities stretched out before him… an acorn buried in the rubble of his past and sprouting into a sapling that grew into a sturdy trunk that soon held bark coated limbs branching off as high as he could see. It was like one of Jet’s bonsai trees but on a scale he nearly couldn’t fathom. Was this what the future looked like for most people? Was this what his had always had the potential to be?

He felt on top of the world. Able to stand tall without the pressures of certain death chasing at his heels. He was a jack of all trades, master of none, able to slip into whatever role he needed to play to get through each and every day. Ship busted? He could jury rig something to keep it together for the moment. Crack pilot? He could outfly anyone anytime. Crack shot? Okay fine so maybe he was a master of a few trades come to think of it.

His childhood and adolescence and adulthood all jumbled together in his recollection. Different days, different outfits, different moods. He’d started out an unknown - an orphan like so many - and he’d been determined to make a name for himself. But then he’d grow so disillusioned with the Syndicate… his dreams splintered from the foolish goals of an angry misguided youth into something perhaps equally ill conceived in retrospect. Lust and loneliness did not equate to love. Not a lesson easy to learn. It took years for that to sink in, actually.

He had broken loose of that shackle. Had faced down the demons of his past and had lived to tell about it.

I am alive, right? Or am I ascending? I’ve finally got the chance to live for me… not just survive.

The blood in his veins seemed to want to sing. Celebrate, it cried, celebrate while you’re alive!

He could go home… back to the slums of Tharsis and disappear nameless into the crowd.

He could go home… back to the remnants of the Red Dragons and take control for himself.

He could go home… back to a broken down ship and a surly partner and a wily vixen with sad eyes and a hoping heart.

Ahhh but that last option held the sweetest temptation. Of all the possibilities - and there were countless more teasing at his awareness, places to go and things he could do and souls he could meet - there was the Bebop calling him home on behalf of her crew.

He was weightless and falling and flying and dreaming and lost and alone and so far from home but there was blood pumping through his body (pouring out of his body too, to be sure, but that wasn’t necessarily the end…) and there was breath in his lungs and suddenly he could see clearly out of both eyes.

The syndicate was in ruin - he’d be lucky if the whole damn building didn’t try to break apart beneath his battered body. One mission over and done, but he had a whole checklist to mark off and that was just the top of the page…

Blade

Not to break and not bend.

Not bend and sharply cut.

Vicious had given much to acquire the Juuchi Yosamu. A sword of fable, of legend. Created by the master swordsmith Muramasa long ago on the ruined planet known as Earth and capable of cutting the very air which blew on it. It would cleave whatever it struck with merciless precision. A blade which desired blood.

It had called to him. Sung out for a soul strong enough to wield it.

He had answered that call and felt a part of himself revitalized once he held it in his hands.

And after he had obtained it, he went back along the path that had led him to the katana of legend and had slayed each and every voice that had whispered of where to step next in his search. All the lives that had retained even a scrap of knowledge about the fabled sword fell victim to its swift and sure razor sharp edge.

He had even ensured the loyalty of the blade by drawing it over his own chest and heart.

Feeding it with his own lifeblood. Letting it taste his power. Binding them irrevocably together.

It would lead him to the highest ranks of the Syndicate. It would keep his pursuit of conquest honorable. It would guide his hand to take all necessary lives that stood in his way. It would purge the Red Dragons of pusillanimity, of souls who would hesitate or waver or doubt. Cowardice would not be tolerated. But there was a deeper vulnerability to rout. Compassion was the true killer and he would root it out from the syndicate before leading the Dragons to lay waste to all those who threatened or conspired or foolishly thought compromise would benefit their cause somehow. The Red Dragons would rule not just Tharsis but all of Mars.

The Juuchi Yosamu would bathe in blood. And then…

Someday, it would have its chance to be used against the only other beast that had ever impressed Vicious. The only other creature that Vicious had ever deigned to consider a rival, a fellow protege of ever-weakening Mao Yenrai, a brother-in-arms and ambition.

Despite years of being considered dead - though how anyone could be deceived into believing that was frankly beyond him - the name Spike Spiegel still commanded loyalty in the ranks. Rumors rose and fell behind closed doors and in hazy pool halls… the idea that he might return, might come cannonballing back to take up the mantle he’d spurned…

The idea was absurd. The man who had once stood firm at Vicious’s back and had served relentlessly and without remorse… that man had died. Vicious had seen it happening before his very eyes. Whoever operated the corpse of Spike Spiegel now was a man of insufficient cruelty. A man with vulnerabilities.

His blade would cut those portions of rot right out of Spike’s body. He would gut him and let the infection of emotion bleed out along with every last gasp of life within the husk that he was.

Ghost

It wasn't like he didn't think of her. He left a basket of eggs for her whenever he left before she awoke. And it wasn't like he and MacIntyre fled under the cover of silence… she'd been awake early enough and often enough to observe and participate in the pell mell evacuation of the campsite and even to tag along when they departed more often than not.

It's just sometimes she slept so hard that she missed the exit. Sometimes she woke long after the sun and dined on eggs with Ein while she pondered which direction to take to bring her back together with Father-person again.

This was one of those mornings - well, it was already afternoon now. She could follow the tracks left by the all-terrain vehicle and probably catch up in a day or two. Depending of course on how long the others stayed paused in the latest meteor site.

The sun was glaring down from overhead and Ed was pleasantly toasty. Her belly was full and her mind was drifting like the clouds scattered across the sky so high above.

Ein whined at her bare feet and she squatted down to scratch behind both ears at once, making the dog smile.

"You thinking what I'm thinking, Ein?" She queried cheerily. "Ed thinks it may be time to give up the ghost. Yup yup. It's been fun, it's been real, it's even been real fun… but meteor tracking is kinda boring hey?" She stood up and stretched.

She knew her father wouldn't be upset if she bailed. He might miss her but he also might not even notice her absence for a while. Sometimes she felt invisible compared to the acquisition of raw data that fueled his daily drive. She could disappear and unless she was raining down from the sky he might not even think of her.

It wasn't necessarily a bad thing or even much of a sad thing… Ed had plenty of distractions and desires and duties of her own. She liked to see her father and it was funny watching MacIntyre forever struggling to get Father-person to get his name right. But she simply wasn't interested in mapping the world. She had been thinking lately that she'd rather be out amongst the stars again.

"Father-person!" Ed yelled out into the wind. "Ed is going on adventures! Be well, until we meet again!" She looked at Ein with a grin. "Better say your goodbyes, Ein-woof-woof! It's time for us to give up this ghost and start tracking down another!"

Ein blinked at her and then obediently howled before trotting after the young woman as she made her way, arms swinging madly, across the desert landscape.

"Bebop, Bebop, Ed is gonna find you! Jet-person, Spike-person, and Faye-Faye too! Ready or not… here… we… come!! Wahoo!" Arms now held straight out on either side, blanket tied around her neck like a cape, it was anyone's guess whether Ed was impersonating an airplane or a superhero… but in the moment all that truly mattered was the fun that she and Ein were having as they made their wacky way through life.

Line Without A Hook

“Hey, what’re you doing?” Spike asked as he realized Faye had stopped following him through the cavernous space that seemed to comprise the heart of the Junkyard.

“Huh? Oh, well, these folks made me an offer earlier and I was gonna see if it was still on the table.” She glanced around with a slight frown, trying to spot the hippie couple through the haze.

“An offer eh? What kind of offer?” Spike was intrigued.

Faye smirked at him. “The kind that frees your mind…”

“Is that so…”

She shrugged. “We’re not likely to get any cash from this job. And I dunno about you, but I’m tired of drinking. A hangover is not my preferred way to start the day, and don’t even get me started on that gross egg concoction of yours - hard pass.”

He chuckled. “It’s not something I drink for the flavor or texture, it’s just for the effect. But… I’m curious now. I’ve seen you drunk but I’ve never seen you high… and you’re right, we’ve got some time to kill since there’s not much for work right now. Although… I bet half these folks have bounties on their head if we could just figure out which jurisdiction to return ‘em to.”

Finally spotting her quarry, Faye started to float in their direction. “These are fish in a barrel, Spike. Leave ‘em be.”

He shrugged as he followed her. “Not my style if there’s no danger anyway. Easy pickings are only worth grabbing when we’re flat broke and outta food.”

Coming to a swaying halt over by the hippies, Faye made a face at Spike as he landed beside her. “We are flat broke and out of food.”

He winked at her as he reached over to take the joint that was being passed their way by the amiable pair sitting on a pile of wooden crates. “Pretty sure this will ease your hunger pangs,”

She snorted. “Have you never gotten high before, Spike? This’ll be a pleasure for me in that case.”

“Oh, you folks are hungry?” The woman asked kindly. She had already lit another joint to pass to her companion. “There’s a soup kitchen two levels down. And Martha makes a mean cookie, but I would be careful there… she doesn’t know how to make them weak… never ever ever eat the whole thing in one sitting.”

Faye took a deep drag on the joint that Spike gave her and then passed it to the woman. “A soup kitchen, eh? I saw you’re growing tomatoes in one corridor… do vegetables do well here? Doesn’t seem like there’s enough light for much to thrive…”

The man laughed and gazed at her with half-lidded eyes. “Oh, all things grow as much as they want. Some spots do better than others, sure. And there’s supply ships that come by once in a while. Lots of folks still have connections to outsiders, you know? Concerned relatives like to check in… sometimes they join us, most times they shake their heads and fly away.”

“Fly fly away like birds!” The woman chortled. “Birds follow their own odd paths, don’t they? But we can’t judge others for how they choose to live. Peace and love… birds of a feather, flocking together. Are you folks gonna stick around?”

Spike coughed and passed his joint over to Faye. “No, no… we’ve got… uhhh… that bird thing going on. Migration or whatever.”

Faye exhaled and shook her head. “It’s not a bad place, here. Maybe we’ll be back again one day.” She eyed Spike and chuckled to herself. “Think they’d mind if we stopped down for some soup?”

“The more the merrier,” the man intoned happily. “Bring them some of these, yeah? Save us a trip… heh… only one trip at a time, or you might get lost in your head, you know?”

“Uh huh, sure.” Faye replied, taking the offering of garlic cloves that the man held out. “Thanks for the buzz, hey? C’mon, Spike, let’s go grab some grub.”

“Okay… okay… hold on…” Spike grinned boyishly. “I gotta focus. Shifting into… soup mode.”

Rolling her eyes, Faye reached out to grab his arm. “Yeah that’s what I thought,” she murmured with a grin of her own. “You’re not used to things that ease your mind. Booze to numb your heart and befuddle your emotions, sure, cigarettes to give you that edge or take it off, absolutely. Weed though? Look at you, you’re giggling like a little kid. Let’s get some food into you quick.”

“You’ve got the prettiest eyes, Faye,” Spike told her as she dragged him along down towards the lower levels. “I could lose myself in those jungles for days.”

Faye blushed. “Oh hush, don’t try to work any lines on me, mister.”

“No lines! No lie! Or… well, a line perhaps but there’s no hook. You’re a free bird, Faye. Wouldn’t dream of caging you just to hear you sing.” He babbled.

“Of course not,” she muttered. “You don’t like my singing.”

“Hmm,” Spike made a thoughtful sound. He grabbed a railing as they floated past and pulled her to a stop alongside him. “You’re sad about that? I thought you were made of sterner stuff.”

Faye scowled. “First you flirt and then you tease? Maybe I don’t like you on weed after all.”

“You shouldn’t listen to me, Faye.” He replied. “I’m not a nice guy. You should have more faith in yourself. Do you think you can sing? Be confident and be happy.”

“I’ve got plenty of confidence in myself!” She snapped. “Just because I care… whatever. Never mind. Let’s just get some soup, please? Hunger must be making me cranky.”

He looked at her seriously for a minute longer before pulling his arm from her grip and taking her hand instead. Letting go of the railing, they sank gradually downward again.

“You feel things too much,” he told her then.

“You don’t feel things enough.” She retorted.

Their boots connected with the platform that was marked with a cardboard flap showing a bowl of soup. Faye tried to storm off but Spike refused to release her hand from his. He tugged her back when she turned to glare at him.

“You don’t know what I feel or how deep those feelings go,” he said then, staring down into her eyes. “I’ve never been good at sharing that type of thing. In the syndicate, that was a death sentence.” He paused and then exhaled heavily. “It’s hard to break that type of habit. But, for the record… I do like your singing voice.”

She tilted her chin up and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Well good for you. Not that I need your approval.”

He gave her a half-smirk. “There ya go… you set the standards for yourself to live up to. You do what makes you happy and fuck what anyone else says or thinks.”

They started off again towards the soup kitchen, hands still held. Faye was unable to ignore how reassuring it felt though she put her best effort into acting like there was nothing remarkable at all about being hand-in-hand with Spike. He’d claimed to be using lines on her, but with no hooks to worry about… but that wasn’t the case. She’d been snagged on his line ages ago, back before he’d even been paying attention to where he was casting, and she’d swallowed the hook without a second thought.

Her spirit had been crushed when he didn’t chase after her on Callisto, and then she’d felt even lower when she realized he’d gone haring off after some phantom woman from his past. But he’d opened up since then… grown somehow more approachable, more present in the moment. And an innocent act like this… taking her hand and not letting go… it stoked the ember of hope that she hadn’t been able to extinguish.

It had bothered her at first, but now she was beginning to be grateful that that hope still burned.

Temperance

“Being forced to work and forced to do your best will breed in you temperance and self-control, diligence and strength of will, cheerfulness and content, and a hundred virtues the idle will never know.” Jet recited thoughtfully as he stood over Spike’s sprawled form on the couch.

Spike, one arm still slung over his eyes, groaned. “Spare me the proverbs or whatever, Jet. Besides, you think I need more strength of will? Give me a break.”

“I think you could benefit from applying temperance to your drinking habits and calling on self-control when chasing a bounty couldn’t do any harm either.” The other man replied.

“As a man who enjoys being idle, I’ll have you know I’m plenty content and cheerful.” Spike grumbled.

Jet eyed him critically. “Your skin tone tells me you’re an alcoholic. Your lethargy tells me you’re depressed. And your attitude tells me you know these things but can’t be bothered to care.”

Spike sighed. “Seems we’re at a bit of an impasse then doesn’t it.”

“Look, I’m upset the girls are gone too, but you don’t see me crawling into the bottom of a bottle about it.” Instead, Jet was still consistently making more for meals than either man could comfortably eat. Some small part of him was convinced that they’d come back if they only knew that there were still places for them on the ship.

“Let’s try a page out of my book. You could use a drink yourself, you know.” Spike muttered. “Where are we anyway?”

Jet grunted. “Tharsis.”

Spike dragged his arm off his face to glare at the other man. “I don’t make you go to Ganymede. Why would you make me go here?”

“This crater is teeming with bounties. I figure… we can drink away our sorrows tonight and then get to work tomorrow. Besides, you weren’t exactly giving me any suggestions for places to go and with Big Shot off the air… anyway, Bob’s got a list for me that should get us sitting pretty.”

Sighing, Spike sat up. “This place is rotten, Jet. If you thought nothing good comes from Earth… well, you haven’t seen the shit that comes from Tharsis.” He glowered at the tabletop. “I don’t like this, Jet. Don’t like it at all.”

“No one’s asking you to. Now, are we gonna go drink or what?”

Nicotine

Music poured from the tinny speakers of the RedTail as Faye piloted her vessel from the protective hull of the Bebop and into the vast starry expanse that spread out before her. Jupiter loomed large straight ahead, an enormous ball of gas that could never offer a home to humanity. It was starkly beautiful. The russet tones and cream colors made her crave a coffee and a cigarette like no one’s business.

Maybe she’d be able to find a cafe somewhere down on Callisto.

From what she’d overheard Jet explaining to Ed about the various moons circling the gas giant, she had her doubts but in the long run she didn’t need some fancy espresso shop… a hole in the wall bar would have the capability of producing a shitty cup of java and she could pair that with the cigarettes she’d stolen from Spike’s room.

She had been feeling spiteful about his words back on Ganymede, so she had stolen his jacket and his smokes and then all the measly money from the safe. As an extra ‘fuck you’ she’d even emptied the radiator of the Bebop of anti-freeze so the others would have a sweltering couple of hours to bemoan her absence.

The music playing suited her mood for the moment, though she knew she’d be crashing emotionally soon and would have to find a way to wallow in her woes. For now she’d take the anger and the satisfaction of escaping before she could get bogged down in affection. There was too much potential for hurt there, too many chances to get taken advantage of. She refused to be that vulnerable ever again.

She’d done a cut and run. Flee before they can abandon you. Burn up, don’t fade away. Leave a scorch mark on their memories that they can’t erase.

Part of her, an irritatingly loud-voiced part, desperately wanted them to follow. To chase after her and assure her that she was desired on the ship. That she was wanted and needed and appreciated. That she had a home if she’d like to consider it such.

A louder part of her was raging at how complacent she’d allowed herself to become. How she’d been poisoning herself by staying on that smoky ship. Haunted by the lanky cowboy who shared space with her, shared vices with her… tormented by the unfortunate crush she’d developed on that stringbean asshole who seemed so infuriatingly indifferent to her presence. She hated these feelings… the joy she felt in his company, the arousal she felt when he smiled at her, the way his opinion mattered.

She wanted him. Wanted his rough hands to caress her body, wanted to feel his sinewy muscles beneath her own fingertips, wanted to shove him down on the ugly yellow couch and have her wicked way with him. Wanted to make him gasp and moan and scream out her name.

She hated it. She hated him. She had to get away.

Lighting up one of his pilfered cigarettes, she tried to push him from her mind as she angled her vessel towards the icy little moon that Jet had warned Ed about. The one most dangerous, full of criminals and with an environment as hostile as the populace. It sounded like the perfect place for her to get her kicks. Literally. She needed to purge some aggression and kick some ass.

Time Waits For No One

Some days he remembered everything.

The pride of accomplishment in what they had created.

The uncertainty over what lay ahead, and the feeling of foreboding that he should have paid more attention to.

The staggering arrogance of his employers that resulted in countless lives snuffed out and countless more left to struggle for survival in a world ravaged by radiation and turbulent tides and a near-constant hail storm of moon rocks.

The secret, bitter delight that bubbled up whenever he thought about the revenge he would have upon them one day.

…

And then there were the days when he didn’t remember much at all.

Breakfast? Might not have even happened.

Lunch? There was a seed of some sort stuck in one of his molars so perhaps there had been lunch.

Dinner? Well, what even was time out here in the Junkyard?

Family? If there had been family members, their faces were all lost to him now.

Friends? Well, surely that was whomever he crossed paths with these days.

Pets? Who could own a creature? They merely shared space in this hazy place - sometimes sitting on his lap, sometimes resting at his side, occasionally batting at a piece on the board and earning a scolding for their playful misbehavior.

The game? Ahhh, the game. That never slipped his mind. Chess and music were the two things that connected all the years of his life together. They were the backbone of his reality and they were all that he truly needed to be happy and content with life.

Music, drifting to his ears from wherever people gathered to play.

And chess, exciting his mind and requiring all of his focus when the opponent was as brilliant as he. Yes, now time was truly to be disregarded. Hours could fade away, entire days lost… or, invested rather… in the art of strategy and the quiet contemplation of this move versus that.

…

Someday he would rejoice for he would have his revenge.

Someday he would weep for he would have his revenge.

Someday he would…

…

Time was slipping by, or speeding past perhaps?

No matter, there was someone waiting for him to play.

Angel With A Shotgun

He was throwing them to the wolves. Making the most foolish mistake a syndicate man could make. He was forcing her hand and burning all his bridges and she couldn’t stop him from any of it.

Love was cruel. It was paralyzing. It was a hindrance and a hassle and it was what kept her up at night as she ran her hands through his unruly mop of hair. It was what made her smile that Mona Lisa smile that he adored. It was what whispered to her in his absence, suggesting possibilities that couldn’t be real… slyly hinting at a future that couldn’t be true.

Love was evident in his touch upon her skin, in the passion behind the kisses he pressed to her mouth and all up and down her body. Love glimmered in his eyes and poured from his lips. It was intoxicating and enthralling and buoyed her spirits when she grew exhausted by the burden of their brutal livelihood.

She hadn’t been trained to be a warrior, not the way he had been honed into an instrument of destruction. But she’d been taught how to shoot and how to drive and how to play a man like a fiddle. She knew her own strengths and she knew his weaknesses and how to protect him when he didn’t even know to shield himself.

His great escape plans were simple yet grandiose. Feasible yet impossible.

But she would do her utmost to see them both through this. To emerge, ideally unscathed, on the other side of this doomed love affair.

She would fight her way back to him someday.

He was all she truly knew of love and all she knew of hope. He wanted to dream a little dream of her, with her, for her too… well, she wanted all that and more. And if it meant running now… then she’d gladly give up her place in this rotten world. She’d throw caution to the wind and risk it all just to have the chance of meeting up with him again someday…

She was an angel with a shotgun and she wasn’t afraid to kill to get her way.

Cat Scratch

Shivers coursed down his spine as her nails dragged delightfully over his shoulders and ribs.

She’d kept them long and he loved her for it.

Each one was painted a different color because she’d foolishly given Ed full control over the end result rather than demanding the young hacker ‘pick a shade and stick with it’ like she ought to have done if she wanted uniformity on her hands.

Then again, maybe she didn’t care. For all the attention she paid to her nails, buffing them and shaping them and caring for the cuticles while they watched Big Shot or Ed playing chess or whatever passed for entertainment these days… she never seemed perturbed when she broke a nail. She never flaunted a perfect polish in anyone’s face - not that any of them would care to begin with.

She made a mewling noise near his ear and he almost lost it at the sound. The noises he could coax from her were wildly animalistic and drove him mad with desire. She knew it too. Sometimes she practically purred when he used his fingers to tease and torment her in the first stages of their lovemaking.

Yeah, he considered it making love - what of it? Sometimes they fucked, sometimes they had sex, and sometimes they made sweet, sweet love. He was long past the point of being concerned over how anyone else viewed him except perhaps for her… and she was clearly enjoying their activities no matter what term applied.

He had always claimed to hate animals, and cats specifically. But that was of course a lie.

He’d never cared much for pets but he’d never had the chance to have one growing up. And then Ein had adopted them more than they’d adopted him, so it wasn’t like he had a choice there. Fleas and wet dog smell and steaming piles of shit and awful dog breath aside, it was nice having the mangy mutt on the ship with them.

And then VT’s cat had taken to him immediately. He couldn’t even be mad about it since Zeros vouching for him had convinced VT to bring him (and Faye) back to the Bebop after their vehicles were out of commission. Zeros had been astoundingly chill for a feline and had made Spike think that cats probably weren’t so bad after all.

And then Faye… well, she was certainly not a cat despite some very feline characteristics.

She’d still been the exact type of woman he’d claimed to dislike. But, well, the things that he hated tended to turn into things he appreciated in the long run. Hate was too strong a word in the first place. He hadn’t known how to handle things like kids or animals or women like her. Easier by far to just write them all off entirely - dismiss them as annoying or not worth the effort of dealing with.

He’d never claimed to be a smart man. He’d never claimed that he didn’t make mistakes.

Feeling the way she scratched her way up and down his back was an invigorating reminder that, while he was wrong about quite a few things in life, he was still lucky enough to have the chance to realize that and to correct his thinking.

Falling in bed with Faye, falling in love with Faye, falling in love with life at her side…

These were things he’d never regret. Decisions he’d make again and again and again.

And for the marks she was leaving on him… he’d flip her over and make her positively yowl.

The Chariot

Wild cackling was the first thing he became aware of as consciousness painfully returned. His abdomen felt like it was on fire. His arm was throbbing with the familiar agony of a bullet wound careening towards infection.

"Our weapons were our instruments made from our timber and steel, we never yielded to conformity but stood like kings in a chariot that's riding on a record wheel!"

"Uhhhh …Ed?"

A whoop of delight and then a pair of small hands clapped onto his cheeks. "It's alive… it's alive!"

"Be gentle, Ed!" Faye's voice from nearby.

"Spike Spiegel, 27 years young. A man of strength and will and determination! Survivor of the Syndicate collapse on Tharsis thanks to one Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky the 4th, at your service!" Giggling then. "Aren't you glad I kept surveillance of you guys? Made it just in time to swoop you away to safety and then helped Jet get Bebop-Bebop back in the skyyyyy!"

"How…" Spike mumbled. He hadn't opened his eyes yet. He was afraid of what he'd see. Surely this couldn't really be happening. The last thing he remembered was pitching forward down the stairs… he had to be dead.

"Edward built a ship! The Chariot! Came to the rescue when the news was telling me about warfare on the streets! Something told me it just had to be you." She laughed again.

"... this…real?"

A poke to his side had him surging upwards with a yell, clutching at bandages along a tender wound, and with eyes wide open from the shock and hurt.

Faye had a hand fisted in the back of Ed's shirt and was hauling her backwards. Jet was sitting across from the couch and eyeing Spike wearily, hands poised above the med kit in case he needed to grab out the needle for stitches.

"That feel real enough for you?" The ex-cop asked grumpily.

Spike panted, unable to voice a response.

"Ed, you can't just touch where someone's hurt!" Faye scolded.

"But Ed was gentle! The softest touch! No pinching, even if that's the traditional way to check for dreaming." The hacker explained.

Faye sighed. "Even a soft touch can be too much when something is tender like that."

"Ed… saved me?" Spike finally managed to speak again. It felt like every part of his body was protesting in some form or another. Still, it had to be better than the alternative. He hadn't wanted to die, after all.

"You betcha! Ed rode in like a wrecking ball! Then Ein flew the ship for Ed while I tried to stop the bleeding." She looked briefly scandalized. "Ed does not ever want to be sticky like that again."

Spike huffed a short laugh. "Me either, kid. Thanks for looking out."

She puffed up with pride. "Faye-Faye sent Ed to find a place of belonging! Checked in with Father-person then got worried about all of you! Good thing Ed came back to belong here!"

"We missed ya, kid." Jet said gruffly.

"All right, let's let the lunkhead get some rest." Faye decided. "Ein can keep an eye on him. I know Jet was working on a special meal for you when sleeping beauty here started to wake up."

"Oooh special food?" Ed grinned.

"Bell peppers and beef!" Jet informed her with a smile. "Plenty of beef for ya too. You're skin and bones again, kid."

"Fuck rest," Spike muttered, "food."

"Sorry buddy, you're on a liquid diet for now. Doc had to come here and rearrange some of your insides. But don't worry, I've got a slew of protein drinks for ya." Jet assured him.

"Liquid…" Spike grumbled. Had he been grateful to be back? He was about to change his mind. Fucking bell peppers and actual beef…

Raspberry Beret

“Well? What do you think?”

Spike turned around from his inspection of leather gloves to see Faye preening in the floor length mirror. She was wearing a long black dress with puffy mesh sleeves and a high collar and was making minute adjustments to the raspberry colored beret perched upon her head.

He started at the top and let his eyes trail down her body critically and then took his time dragging his gaze back up from the six inch heeled stilettos that graced her delicate feet. By the time he had reached her face again she was making a face at him for being so slow to respond.

“Ditch the cap, get the dress in… hmm… navy blue instead? And the heels… definitely keep the heels. In fact, if you could model those and just those later, I’d be much obliged.”

She snorted, doffing the cap and then turning around and lifting up her hair so he could access the zipper at the rear of the dress. How she’d managed to zip the damn thing all the way up in the first place was something of a mystery but he wasn’t inclined to pursue that just now.

“Much obliged, eh?” She mused, waggling her eyebrows at him suggestively. “What if I don’t want to put on a show later? What if…” She reached over to grab his tie and pulled him close enough that he nearly went cross-eyed trying to maintain eye contact. Without warning, she opened her hand flat on his chest and shoved him forcefully into the changing stall. Stepping in after him, she slid the lock into place and then shifted her shoulders to encourage the dress to drop to the floor. Suddenly she was standing naked before him save for the shoes.

She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him downward until his ass met the bench in the stall. Her smirk was pure sin as she put one heeled foot between his legs and stared imperiously down at him.

“You’ve been such a good boy today,” she purred. “Just for that… I’m gonna play a little game of footsie with you… but you better hold still…” The toe of her shoe nudged gently at the fabric of his pants high on his thigh and he sucked in a breath. This was not footsie as he was familiar with the concept… this was much more dangerous indeed.

This was just his style.

Reflection

The mirror held a stranger’s face staring back at her. The reflection sparked no recognition in her mind and she felt betrayed by that. How could she not know the person whose skin she was in? How could those green eyes, wet with tears, be so disconnected with the person looking out of them? How could that hair not remind her of hours spent styling it?

She watched herself swallow in the mirror and felt a pang at the fact that she could at least see the uncertainty echoed in the features of the woman before her. Emotionally speaking, there was a tie between her own aching heart and the sorrow reflected back at her from that pale face and those haunted eyes.

Could she ever regain that which she had lost? Were her memories gone because of the length of time she’d spent in cryostasis? Was it due to whatever accident had required her to be put into such an unorthodox method of healing?

Was there someone out there who would see her in a crowd and know her for who she truly was? Someone who had a recollection of her from however many years ago… someone who could fill in the blanks of her mind?

She felt like a puzzle with the pieces scattered all around. Could someone help piece her back together? She’d never be quite whole again, of course, there would be cracks to show where she had broken apart, but puzzles still looked lovely when they were complete - the picture was still visible despite the lines marking where each piece had fit into the others surrounding it.

The stranger in the mirror blinked away the tears that were gathering.

Maybe she had been the type to cry and feel sorry for herself. But… true or not, that wasn’t who she had to be today. It was alienating to not know yourself, to not be familiar with the world around you and to have all your assumptions shown to be wrong. She was determined to prove that she wasn’t some silly girl who couldn’t hack it in the world she’d woken up to. She was not alone - that lawyer wanted to help her figure out how things worked.

Well then. There was a lot to learn and no better time to start than the present.

The girl in the reflection looked resolute. And, frankly, quite beautiful.

She may not have her memories, but damn if she didn’t have some fine attributes that would help her make it through this strange new world.

She was strong. She was gorgeous. She was capable of creating a brilliant new life for herself.

She was apparently Faye Valentine and she was going to kick ass at being that.

The Other Side

“If I come out of this alive… I’ll look for you on the other side.”

She didn’t know when he’d found the time to scrawl that note. Didn’t know when he’d had the opportunity to tuck it into her back pocket. Had she been so distracted by his eyes… so caught up in the words coming out of his mouth… so distressed by her own emotional response to what felt like the end of this life she’d finally begun to accept… so lost that he was able to slip that note on her person without her notice?

It did not bode well for her ability to be hyper aware of a situation.

She wondered… if she hadn’t been such a mess in the aftermath of her memories returning… if she hadn’t been so conflicted on who she was and who she is now and whether those differing personalities could possibly coexist… would she have caught him in the act?

There was no room in her life for hesitation or for grief or for preoccupation. Those type of reactions and feelings were things that could get her killed out there in the real world. Here in the haven of the hull of the ship, well, she could give herself some leniency. She had to hold herself to higher standards out in the wild but in this safe harbor she could cut herself some slack.

If anyone could sneak something by her here, obviously it would be Spike. He was a master at sleight-of-hand after all. Far better than even she, and Faye knew she was no slouch there.

She had discovered the note when she crumpled to the floor, distraught over the upheaval that she wasn’t prepared to face. Her life had literally just fallen apart when she found her home razed to the ground and no one from her previous existence still alive save for one old woman she was too afraid to face for answers. She wasn’t ready to let go of this hard-won life she’d managed to forge with Spike and Jet here on the ship. Wasn’t ready to accept that Ed and Ein were gone - it couldn’t be gone for good, it had to only be gone for now. Like Spike.

He hadn’t actually promised he would return. He had said he was going to find out if he was truly alive. He couldn’t use his voice to assure her of anything because he wasn’t the type to make empty vows… he wouldn’t put to words anything he couldn’t bring about in reality.

But the note gave her a touch of hope.

He might still die. But if he managed to make it through… if he discovered he was indeed alive and was able to cling to that and come out on the other side of this brutal affair… his note pretty much assured her that he would find her.

She had faith in his survival skills.

So she dried her tears and moved to stand. She would join Jet on the bridge and watch the stars come out to shine. She would wait for him, here on the other side.

Dream On

She’d let him wine her (okay it was a dirty martini but still) and dine her (how was the stew so cold and congealed after he’d spent half an hour in the kitchen of his ship?!) and that was as far as this impromptu date was gonna go.

Originally she’d thought it would play out very different… she was gonna let Andy run Teddy Bomber down and then steal the bounty out from under his horse’s hooves so she could cash it in herself. Easy peasy. But at no point was Andy even trying to catch the damn bounty. Oh no, he took out his gun and started firing at Spike flying overhead!

To her credit, she’d managed to jostle Andy’s aim enough to keep any shots from connecting with the Swordfish II - though in all fairness Spike would have likely been able to avoid getting hit on his own. And then when she saw the bounty crash it would have been just a matter of leaping from the horse to take matters into her own hands… but, though the horse was traveling slower than a standard vehicle or zip craft… Faye was in a ridiculously poofy dress that would not help her dismount at such a good clip without sustaining some injury to herself.

Besides, the dress was a rental - she wanted to be able to return it and get her money back.

So onward she rode with Andy doing his best to knock Spike out of the sky until Spike finally flew off and Andy let his horse slow from a gallop to a canter and then eventually a trot as they made their way to the ritziest harbor of the city.

Faye’s hopes had soared at that. The yacht which Andy led his horse to was simply superb. A great, gleaming vessel that lorded over the other ships like a queen surrounded by servants and other lesser entities. She shifted her way of thinking over. Perhaps she could establish herself as a part of Andy’s life… certainly he had the riches to wipe away her debt… she needn’t marry the man necessarily, although leading a life of privilege and power did hold a certain appeal.

Inside the vessel she found herself surrounded by the gaudiest collection of cowboy memorabilia she could fathom. There were tacky trinkets all over, several trophy animal skulls hung about, and for some reason the stable was right in the heart of the lounge. Well, he had said that he liked to play chess with the horse so this made more sense than the idea of Andy setting up a tall table in an actual stable.

His attitude quickly swayed her way of thinking from eyeing him up as a prospective suitor to trying to divert him from his goal of nabbing Teddy Bomber. If she could eliminate one of their bounty hunting rivals then the reward money would stand a better chance of being theirs instead of going to a fool like this who clearly had no need for money. Indeed, the way he used money should be considered a crime.

Andy, however, seemed to still believe that she was operating on a level of pure attraction with the end goal of hopping into bed with him at the end of the night. He blathered on for quite a while about all of his triumphs and all of his hobbies and all of his genetic superiority. After the lengthy explanation about why his head of hair was to be considered the best in terms of thickness, stylability, rich color, and so on, she was ready to jump out of a porthole just to escape his own grandiose ideas of self.

“Well, the time has come it seems,” he announced abruptly, no segue whatsoever from the prose about his sculpted musculature. “You’re to be given a true gift tonight by sharing my blankets and my bed. Are you prepared to ascend to heights of ecstasy beyond imagining? Do you think you can possibly handle all the man before you?”

Faye stared at him incredulously. She made sure to keep eye contact with him as her right hand drifted behind her back to access the spray bottle she’d tucked into the lace-up back of the dress. Just one spritz and she’d have him drooling on the couch and no longer boring her to tears. With a man this egotistical there was no chance the sex would be equal to the hype.

“Oh you simple, simple man…” she crooned. “You think you could bring me to any level of satisfaction?” She snorted. “Dream. On.” And then, with a devious grin, activated the spray right in his boastful face.

Confusion rocked his features for only a moment before the drug took effect and laid him out on the couch half in her lap. From across the room, the horse made a huff and Faye glanced over at it.

“Calm down, I’m not gonna hurt this oaf. I’m not even gonna rob him blind like he so richly deserves.” A pause as she considered what to do next. There wasn’t anything that she viewed as worth taking to a pawn shop and she had no idea where a safe might be on this ship, so looting the place was indeed not her goal. Still, she deserved something for putting up with his bloated ego and the prattling on he’d done for hours about himself.

Hmm… perhaps something that would benefit not just herself… the stew had potential, though he’d done an abhorrent job with it. Clearly the man was used to having a waitstaff cater to his dietary needs if the way he cooked (er, reheated) was any indication. But she had full faith in Jet making the stew more palatable and this way even if they gave up on Teddy Bomber at least they’d have a well stocked pantry for a bit.

Yup, the only thing of real value here was the food stash and she was gonna take every last can.

Not Over You

Julia…

Hearing that name was like touching a live wire.

Jet tried to convince him that it was a common woman’s name… true enough, but Spike felt in his gut that this was his Julia. A connection to the woman he’d fallen for hard and fast when he’d been nothing but a syndicate lackey, a beast valued for the damage it could inflict on the targets it was set upon. She had seen more to him than the destruction he could cause. She had seen a heart beating within his chest, something he’d denied possessing for years and years.

She had been the start of his undoing.

He’d been trying to convince himself since he left Tharsis that he was over her. What other choice did he have? She had left him hanging in the wind, forced to flee on his own. Her fate was entirely in question. Why hadn’t she met him? Why had she abandoned him?

It had hurt more than he thought possible.

And now suddenly a chance to find out what happened. A chance to rediscover a life with her.

The odds of her using her own name as a code seemed astronomically high. It was more than likely that this had nothing to do with her at all. But his heart was beating a mile a minute, his pulse racing, and he knew he couldn’t sit on his ass and do nothing while she slipped through his fingers here on this frigid moon.

Memories of their time together brought him a measure of warmth as he threw on the first jacket he could find in Faye’s shambles of a room. His own jacket had been missing and he couldn’t be bothered to look for it, there was no time to waste. Besides, if Faye was gone then she wouldn’t care about some coat she’d left in her own haste to leave.

There was nothing for it. He had to go and go now. Jet was putting up a fuss but Spike knew it was all bluster. The other man was angry about Faye being gone and about Spike bailing now too. Spike knew how much their presence mattered despite anything Jet might say otherwise. He was a man who formed attachments and cared about others even when he shouldn’t.

But Ed was still on board, and Ein too for that matter. Sure, Faye might never come back - and good luck finding her if she was trying to hide - and Spike himself didn’t know what the future held… but Jet wouldn’t be alone even so. That thought gave Spike all the assurance he needed that his own departure wouldn’t break the other man.

He had to follow up on this lead. Had to see where this led. He had no choice - frustrating as it was, he was just not over her.

Angels Like You

“Mr. Spike referred to you both as fairies but that isn’t right.” Meifa told Faye helpfully as she teetered from her toes to her heels and back again on the deck of the ship. “You were guardian angels today. Fairies can’t fight in space like that - and anyway the seven dwarves weren’t bad guys either. Mr. Spike doesn’t really know much about fairytales I think. But you both protected me. Made sure I could see my father one more time even if I didn’t… well. Maybe just the fact that I came assured him of my love. That he wanted me here, that tells me of his. Actions speak louder than words, you know. And your actions were selfless yet put you in danger. So, thank you. For being my guardian angels today.”

Faye gaped at the girl. “Uhhh… you’re welcome?”

She flashed Faye a bright grin. “Please be sure to tell Mr. Spike thank you as well. Your energies together are very strong - you make a good pair!”

“Hey now, we aren’t -”

“Oh! My mama is here! Thanks again, Miss Faye!” Meifa darted off down the flight deck and hopped over to the dock where a tall woman was walking with purpose towards the Bebop.

Shaking her head in confusion, Faye sparked up a cigarette and turned her gaze skyward. The past two days had been interesting if not exactly productive from a financial standpoint. It had been amusing to see Jet so off balance and embarrassed even though he obviously wasn’t courting that kid. Teasing that man was one of the simple joys in her life and one she shared with Spike and Ed for that matter. It was important to never take oneself too seriously, after all, and having friends poke fun at you or make ridiculous insinuations was a good way to keep your ego at a manageable level.

The stomp of Jet’s boots and the quieter step of Spike’s shoes reached her ears as the guys made their way out to stand beside her. Spike reached over to pluck her cigarette out of her lips and she made a face at him for the audacity of that move.

“Her mom didn’t freak out on you?” Jet inquired, looking at the retreating figures of the two women as they left the harbor.

Faye snorted. “Her mom didn’t even step foot on the ship. You were being paranoid for no reason.”

“Humph.” Jet crossed his arms irritably. “She probably remembers me from back when Pao was an informant. No need to see how she feels about his past acquaintances when she obviously wasn’t a fan of the man himself. And we had her kid! What kind of mother wouldn’t assault a man who’d brought her kid off planet?”

“Sheesh, calm down. She’s back on solid ground and with her mom. I don’t even think her mom knows she left the atmosphere. I mean, you found her in a graveyard right? What kind of mother lets her preteen run around cemeteries and disappear for more than a day?”

“Anyway, mission accomplished right?” Spike inserted then. Faye grabbed for her cigarette and he backed away grinning.

“For whatever it was worth, yeah I suppose so.” Jet sighed. “You don’t have to keep smoking out here anymore now that she’s gone.”

Faye stopped chasing Spike for her cigarette and looked back at Jet. “Really? So you’re fine with us smoking around Ed then? She’s just as young as Meifa…”

He shrugged. “Meifa was coughing! Ed has never seemed to care or notice. Who knows what the radiation on Earth does to kids growing up there. She might have some sort of immunity.”

“Yeah right,” Spike muttered. He crushed the remainder of the cigarette under his shoe and then pulled out his own pack and lit two. Faye glared at him until he offered her one with a smirk.

“It’s not so bad smoking outside,” Faye threw out then. “Fresh air, well… I mean… anyway, the view is nice. If we’re planetside I figure I’ll probably just step out. Maybe Ed cares and maybe she doesn’t but now that I’ve had a chance to think about it… it’s not that hard to be considerate of someone else’s lungs.”

Spike tilted his head back to gaze up at the sky. “Yeah, Faye’s right. Smoking outside has benefits for sure. Not saying I’m not gonna smoke inside still - no way I’m planet hopping without a cigarette or two in the transit - but this… this isn’t bad.”

Jet stared at the pair of them and then shook his head and took out his own cigarettes. “All right, all right. If there’s air, we’re out there. That’s a compromise I’m comfortable making.”

“Meifa called us guardian angels, you know.” Faye told them then. “It’s not so hard doing something for someone else, I guess. She’s gone but we can still look out for Ed at least.”

Spike chuckled. “Guardian angels, eh? With angels like us, who needs feng shui to stay on course in life?”

“Fung-shooey?” Faye said then.

“Fang-schway,” Jet pitched in.

“What a bunch of phooey.”

*

I don't personally know enough about Feng Shui to have much of an opinion on it one way or another but I do know that folks who do were not especially impressed with the episode Boogie Woogie Feng Shui ...anyway I figure the Bebop crew would likewise be not entirely sold on the matter.

Steadfast

If there was one trait about Jet Black to be admired, it was how steadfast he was. He was the Black Dog that bit and didn’t let go. He was a pillar of stability in a world constantly in flux. He was the stern father figure that his crew so desperately needed (even if they fought him on issues where he was obviously in the right).

He had a strong moral code and he stuck to it, dammit. He’d do what was right regardless of how it might hurt him in the process. It had been the downfall of his career as a cop but that was because the police force wasn’t as concerned with justice and fairness and honor as it ought to be. If he’d realized that sooner… well, maybe there was more he could have done from the inside. Realistically though, the rot was so pervasive that it was kind of a surprise that he hadn’t been caught up in it too.

Well, perhaps to a degree he had. There were things he’d noticed, little details he’d filed away, and that had given him a healthy amount of blackmail against quite a few folks on the force. And those were the ones he considered good guys much akin to himself.

So he wasn’t exactly perfect himself. But dammit, he was steadfast. He had a job and he did it well. He always looked out for civilians and did his utmost to ensure the people he brought in were in fact guilty of the misdeeds for which they were wanted. And sure sometimes he let people go… there were plenty of relatively innocent folk who got caught up in something over their heads… plenty of people struggling to make ends meet and provide for their families. There were lots of reasons to let a bounty slip through your fingers.

If Spike gave him a knowing look… if Faye smirked like she was in on a joke… if Ed clapped her hands and danced around in celebration… well, they just knew that he was in the right. He was their moral compass after all. He had a code of honor and they respected that.

He had taken in a bunch of strays who often skirted the law or downright ignored it and he was continually inspiring them to think deeper, to do better, and to make the right choices for themselves in life. It was an admirable position to be in and he tried hard to make sure that he was setting the right example for all of them. Even himself. Sometimes even a steadfast man like Jet Black needed to remind himself of how to be a good man, how to perform your duty in a world that fought back against what was righteous.

The others needed him to be just. To be firm. To hold their family together and provide for each and every one of them. He did it gladly. Fixed their ships, mended their clothes, prepared their meals. It was the little things that mattered. It was the crucial repairs that kept them going. It was Jet that glued their entire home together.

And he always would, no matter how many times they ducked out or traipsed off or bailed. No matter what they took or how long they were gone. He’d keep the ship in working order and keep setting a place for them at the table.

He was steadfast and he had built a home to last.

Orchestra

“So which one is the bounty again?” Spike queried, kicking his feet up onto the balcony railing.

“The oboe player.” Jet replied, swatting at Spike’s legs to get him to put his feet back down.

“And… which one is the oboe player?” Faye inquired next, puffing leisurely on a cigarette in a ridiculously long holder.

A pause. A sigh. “Are you familiar with the clarinet?” Jet figured he might as well start with something simple.

“Uhh…” Spike’s response was not ideal.

Faye pursed her lips and then pointed with her cigarette holder. “That’s it, yeah?”

Jet glanced in the direction she indicated and shook his head once, curtly. “No. That is a piccolo.”

Spike scoffed. “Now who's being ridiculous? That’s a character from the anime Ed has been watching late at night.”

Jet closed his eyes and exhaled heavily. “The one we are after is the one third from the right in the second row. Never mind the instrument, it’s the lady with the red hair.”

“Are you sure, Jet? I thought the target was older than that.” Faye looked doubtfully at the lady.

“My intel said that she was in her forties. That lady is definitely in that range.”

“Well, if that’s our gal… let’s go get her, what’s the hold up?”

Jet huffed. “Aren’t either of you interested in hearing the orchestra first? How often do we get a chance to be in a place like this? She’s clearly not going anywhere…”

Faye and Spike exchanged blank looks. Faye tapped her cigarette ash onto the carpet of their balcony box and Spike shrugged as he made to lean back in his chair and put his feet up on the railing again.

Jet studiously ignored them both. This was likely Spike and Faye on their best behavior and, since Jet himself wanted to stick around for the performance, well… he’d just have to make do with what he could get from them.