Jet Black - Tumblr Posts

excerpt from Chapter 10 of Further On Down the Road (now posted to AO3!)

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask... Pureed stuff is best for his age right now, I get that, but... well, are you sure you're feeding him the right stuff?"

Spike glanced over his shoulder at the guacamole on the table. "I mean, we made that ourselves here on the ship. Can't get much healthier than that, right?"

"No, that's not quite..."

"Nutrient-rich foodstuffs and things with protein. That's what DB's list said to strive for. Keep an eye on labels for words like 'preservative free' and 'low sodium' and 'no sugar' because apparently kids aren't supposed to have salt until they're one and should avoid sugar until they're two. What a restrictive diet, sheesh." Faye muttered, heaping some guacamole onto a chip for herself.

"Yeah, I get that," Jet interrupted. "It's just... I know you guys are excited to give him real food and you were doing separate ingredients of things day by day to make sure he doesn't have allergies... that's all great. I just... it seems odd to me to give him guacamole, smoothies, and soup."

"We don't want him to choke on little bites, Jet!" Faye reasoned. "All those things you described are either purees or a step beyond... straight liquid!" She looked over at Spike. "I think we're doing just fine. Look, he's loving it!" She pointed at Lupin's rapturous expression.

"Besides Jet, you saw the cost of baby food at the store." Spike added.

Jet looked to the ceiling thoughtfully. "True enough." He brought his gaze over to Faye. "For that matter, you ought to just keep him on the tit as long as possible."

December 3rd, 2064

City of Marvis, Ganymede

He woke in a cold sweat, sitting upright in bed and nearly toppling out as he forgot to account for the absence of limb on his left side. The ache in his shoulder socket gave a phantom impression of the arm still attached, but a phantom impression could not steady a reeling man.

A sense of resolve settled over him as he climbed out of bed and locked the artificial arm into place. There was no need to remove it at night, but then again there had been no need to acquire it in the first place. The insurance policy through the ISSP would have covered cellular regeneration, but he hadn't wanted the easy way out. He had wanted something that would cause him trouble. Something that would take work to figure out. Something that would remind him not to rush into situations blindly.

It was part of the reason he hadn't yet left Ganymede though his watch had stopped months ago. He needed to be sure he was going in the right direction when he left. He had promised himself that he would leave if Alisa hadn't returned by the time the clock stopped. He still intended to keep that promise to himself, but he had to be sure he was not making any mistakes.

The fragments of his dream that had not yet faded made him grimace. The brightness dissolving his ability to see. The sharp report of the gun firing at him. The impact that had twisted him around and sent him sprawling on the unforgiving ground. Udai's laughter fading away. The echo of footsteps growing louder as someone drew near. A familiar voice swearing and calling for an ambulance.

He couldn't let himself be taken by surprise again. He had to plan out his next move carefully.

But, on the other hand, words from his grandmother had not left his mind in days. 'Sometimes you have to take a leap. You might not even be able to see where your feet will fall... You might not land well at all. But the alternative, to stay put? Sometimes that's worse than not knowing what's next.' She had been telling him about her decision to leave Earth and start anew on Ganymede of all places. Plenty of colonies closer and better established, but she had picked here.

Today was his birthday and he was feeling particularly torn. There had been no birthday wishes from his family since none of them were still alive. There had not even been a message from Fad, his former partner, or anyone else at the ISSP.

To be fair, it wasn't like Fad to call and say happy birthday. Neither of them had acknowledged birthdays much in their years together on the force. Nor had birthdays been a big deal in the ISSP in general. It wasn't like some cushy office job where everything was put on pause while everyone gathered to sing and share cake.

Thank goodness for that. Jet had never liked having a fuss made for any reason. Birthdays were especially embarrassing somehow.

But still, it was somewhat odd to know that no one knew or cared about the significance of today for him. Well, Alisa had known of course but it had been years since she was in his life.

For all intents and purposes, he was a lone wolf these days. Newly freed from his allegiance to the ISSP - they'd had him pushing papers since the incident, leery of setting him loose back on the streets, and not only had it chafed terribly but it had also afforded him a chance to see behind the scenes at just how incompetently organized the system was. And how shady it all was as well.

There was still a bad taste in his mouth about all he'd discovered recently. To think there was hardly a police chief out there not on the take. That there were so many officers intentionally turning a blind eye to the illegal or immoral shenanigans that were apparently the bread and butter of the entire force. Injustice was rampant and, though he'd somehow missed it while doing his part to actually clean up the streets, it was painfully obvious when he had the paperwork in front of him that proclaimed the truth.

Hence the lack of guilt he felt now about his goal for today.

There was a police auction happening at the impound lot of his former precinct. He was no longer a cop but he still held sway and was planning on playing on the emotions of whoever was in charge. Most of his fellow officers did not like to look directly at him these days and he knew the arm was the reason why. No one liked remembering that their lives were technically in danger anytime they set out on a mission. No one liked to see the evidence of one of their own having had his ass handed to him in the worst way.

That and people would rather give him things just to keep him quiet and send him on his way. It had been the way things went for the entirety of his time back on the force after the incident - and subsequent months of mandatory rehabilitation. People didn't mind having him around but they didn't want to have to see him directly or deal with him for long.

So be it. He would use their insecurity and ill ease to get himself set up for the next chapter in his life, whatever it might be.

Perhaps someone recently incarcerated had had a fancy zip craft - some flashy custom job with ridiculous engines and unnecessary embellishments. Maybe there was a property on one of the other moons that had been owned by some suit before getting cuffed on the street. Police auctions had long been a favored way the ISSP made a little extra money on the side - by selling off all the belongings and properties of whoever had the misfortune of getting imprisoned.

Well, today Jet was going to see what Lady Fate had in store for his future. He was going to show up at the lot and make people uncomfortable and bid on whatever caught his eye. It was his birthday and Alisa's watch had long stopped and it was time he was on his way.

He'd be thirty next year. A milestone birthday. Where he'd be to celebrate and who might be with him were complete unknowns. The only thing he was sure of...was that he wouldn't be on Ganymede. He was going to treat himself to as much at the auction as he could guilt his former associates into giving him and then he was getting the hell off this moon and away from the nightmares and memories.

A fresh start. A new life. Not bad birthday presents, truth be told.

Besides, there was plenty more to the galaxy than just Ganymede. It was time he stopped denying himself the opportunity to explore the entire universe at hand.

They've been stuck on Io for weeks. Faye has gotten tan. Jet has gotten sunburnt, though that's to be expected after so many hours spent repairing the hull from their crash landing. Spike has somehow managed to avoid the sun for the most part. Ed knows this because she has seen him doing repairs on interior portions of the ship but even more often, she has stumbled across him sleeping in various patches of shade that the Bebop itself provides.

“Ehehehe, no wonder Spike-person claims to hate dogs.” Ed muses to Ein after they've found Spike for the third time in two days. “He has all the sleepy energy of a cat.”

Ein gives a whine as a response and Ed nods thoughtfully.

“Yeah I suppose that's true. Ed has seen kitties shift around to stay in a sun patch as the light moves across the floor. Spike-person avoids it as if he were a vampire! Aha! Now Ed knows why Jet-person keeps so many blood bags in the workshop freezer.”

Ein snuffles along the dirt, puffs of sand rising into the air around his muzzle. His ears twitch towards Ed and then flatten to his furry head and Ed laughs.

“You're right. If Spike-person was a vampire we'd never have enough blood on the ship with how he goes through it after his knock’em down drag ‘em out fights. Besides, he loves garlic.”

“Flavors and spices help you feel full for longer after eating.” Spike’s voice drifts over to the pair playing at the edge of the Bebop’s shadow.

Ed glances over and notices Spike has not moved a muscle aside from his mouth. She nods even though one of his arms is draped over his eyes and he likely cannot see.

“That is a lesson Ed knows well! Back on Earth it was fun to snack on peppers. Hot hot yum! Io reminds Ed of Earth. All the sand stretching miles and miles… so few people scattered about…”

“A whole lot of nothing and nobody.” Spike grumbles. “We're lucky Jet was able to find any parts to fix the ship. Don't know how we'll be able to pay for it with so few bounties out here.”

“Chewing gum keeps hunger at bay too.” A new voice chimes in brightly. Ein gives a startled woof and Ed spins on her heels - an impressive feat in a squatted position - to see Faye as she makes her way under the shade of the hull, lazily fanning herself with an age-stained maintenance pamphlet. “As for the bounty issue… keep letting this one nip into town doing the trades she's been doing and they'll put a bounty out on her.”

Spike has not given any sign of alarm at Faye's unexpected arrival but he does snort at her words. “Collecting bounties on ourselves? Suppose that's not the worst idea I've ever heard from you.” With what seems like incredible effort he sits up at last to peer at Ed with a furrowed brow. “What's she talking about with trades?”

Ed shrugs. “Ed brings knickknacks and doodads and whatnot to the fruit stands. Leaves an offering and takes a treat! Fair trade!”

Spike is chuckling before she even finishes her explanation and Faye is not succeeding at hiding the smile on her face. Ein briefly gives Ed a glance with what looks like reproval on his little furry face. It's an expression she thinks he's learned from Jet.

“It is a good system! It is how Ed kept fed on Earth! This for that!” She insists. Ein tilts his head and opens his mouth in a doggy grin and she knows she's convinced him of her logic.

“So all this reminds you of home, huh?” Spike asks then, kicking up dust with the toe of one shoe and glancing around at the vast empty expanse where the Bebop is crashed.

Ed frowns. “Home?”

Faye tucks away the pamphlet and pulls a pack of cigarettes from her top, one of many secret stash pockets in her skimpy costume. It's an outfit fairly well suited for the heat of Io. She sparks one up and, though she deliberately ignores the pleading look from Spike’s direction, she jumps right on board with his train of thought.

“Yeah, home. You know, Earth? Where we found you?” Faye waves casually towards the hull of the Bebop, no doubt trying to indicate the sky and, out there beyond the atmosphere, the existence of Earth far away.

“Home.” Ed repeats, rolling the word around in her mouth. “Hooooome. Hommmmmme.”

She watches Spike and Faye share a look of exasperated affection mingled with perplexion. It's one of her favorite looks to inspire from the others. They see the world so plainly, never taking it apart place by place or moment by moment. Ed enjoys opening their eyes to deeper truths and making them question their own way of thinking.

“Ed is home.” She elaborates eventually, before they grow bored of waiting for a genuine response. She rises up on her toes and stretches up up up with her arms. Her fingers are nowhere near touching the cool metal of the ship, but she can practically feel the rhythmic vibration resonating through the old trawler as, elsewhere, Jet diligently works to get it space worthy once more.

Ein is at her feet now and licks her left shin, making her giggle and shift to crouch down at his level so she can give him a vigorous rub.

“Parts of Earth have been home. Perhaps will be home again. For now, Bebop-Bebop is home. The taste of Jet-person’s cooking is home. The sound of Spike-person's snoring and joking and advising and complaining is home. The feel of Faye-Faye’s fingers brushing and untangling Ed's hair is home. The smell of Ein-woof-woof’s fur and farts and doggy breath is home.” She grins at them and then reiterates. “Ed is home.”

She sees the impact of her words in their nonverbal response. By the slow blink Spike has and the offhand way Faye reaches over towards him to offer the rest of her cigarette while she looks pointedly in another direction. They still think this is just a way station only - a reprieve from the rest of the world that they will take advantage of until the time comes for them to rediscover their true home in the world. They won't - or can't - admit that home changes.

Ed has had many homes over the years and several unusual families. She knows she will have many more. It's comfortable on the Bebop and she loves her companions - she doesn't want to leave and so for now she won't. But someday she knows this can change. Life is full of change, it's what makes it so exciting. It's what allows hope to burn in the heart. Today might be crap but tomorrow…oh, tomorrow…

Her future is uncertain and she is glad for that. How boring it would be otherwise! For now there are good people she shares a space ship with. For now there is a furry friend who understands her on a level few others ever have. For now the sun is shining and there is fruit in the fridge that she brought home, thanks to the trade she made with some of the oddities from the storage room Jet-person once met a monster in.

“C’mon, Ein!” She cheers, scooping the dog up into her arms and standing with so much energetic momentum that she simply has to spin in place before taking off towards the source of the thuds echoing through the hull of the ship. “Let's go help Jet fix our home! Let's get back to the stars!”

(set between Gateway Shuffle and Ballad of Fallen Angels)

"JET!"

"JEEEET!"

"DAMMIT, JET!"

Inhaling deeply, drawing on every particle of patience that his bonsai trees were trying to grant him, Jet carefully set down his shears and leaned back from the shelf of happy little plants.

If only everything on the ship could be as peaceful...

"JET! WHAT THE FUCK!"

But it was quite obvious that Spike was not about to let him bask in the relaxation of trimming his slowly growing collection of trees. In fact, the ire in Spike's tone was evoking a similar rage in Jet himself despite how content he had been mere moments before the other man had begun bellowing from deeper inside the former fishing vessel.

With one last regretful glance at his handiwork, Jet got to his feet and stomped out towards the commotion. He hoped Spike could hear from the volume of his footfalls exactly how cranky he was at being interrupted from his hobby. It's not like he went around caterwauling when Spike was trying to practice his martial arts. You'd think his partner would have the decency to afford him that same respect.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Jet demanded as he entered the main living area and took in the scene before him.

Spike was standing beside Faye, who was casually buffing her nails as she sat on one of the ladder steps leading to the bridge. It seemed as though Spike was trying to loom over Faye but she'd taken up a position high enough on the ladder to make his stance almost comical since he had to glare up at her.

"She stole my fucking mattress!" Spike snapped.

With a sigh, Jet turned his attention from the infuriated bounty hunter to the third member of their oddball crew. Faye lazily brought her hand to her mouth so she could blow whatever nail dust her efforts had produced towards Spike. Sputtering at her audacity, Spike backed away so he could straighten up stiffly and made his hands into fists at his side.

"Is this true, Faye?" Jet asked in a tired tone.

She gave Spike a long, cool look before turning towards Jet.

"How long have I been here, Jet?" She inquired. Standing up, she raised her arms over her head in a stretch before yawning and traipsing up the ladder to disappear into the bridge. Spike was staring after her with his mouth hanging open and his face contorted into a mixture of frustration and incredulity at her unconcerned departure.

"Jet!" Spike whined again. "What the fuck?"

For his part, Jet found his own irritation had dissolved in the face of this unexpected source of amusement. He was careful to keep his own expression blank as he looked steadily at Spike.

"She's been here for weeks, Spike-o." Jet reminded the other man, who still looked miffed and as though he expected Jet to help him wrest the piece of furniture back. "If you haven't noticed your bed was missing until now... are you even missing it? Or are you just looking for a way to fight with the girl?"

Spike's mouth opened and closed. He scowled. "I... you... she!"

Unable to stop a smile from curling his lips, Jet gave up and chuckled at his partner's misery. "Next time you wanna keep something safe, try locking your door. And, I can tell you're new to this whole... dealing with women thing... but typically they prefer being wooed to being yelled at."

Bristling, Spike spun from his position by the ladder to face Jet full on.

"What did you say?! Wooing women?! That's not what this is about! She took my bed, dammit! Where am I supposed to sleep?!"

Shaking his head, Jet turned to make his way back towards the bonsai room. "Same place you've been sleeping since she got here, I imagine. Next time you wanna bring me into your argument, just remember... don't."

"There's nothing I can do for a dead woman."

"There's nothing I can do... for a dead woman..."

"There's nothing... I can do... for a dead... woman..."

The words repeated themselves over and over in Jet's mind as he absently rubs a cloth over the metal bar on the bridge of the ship. It hurts. A dull sort of throb that pulsed in time with the ache in his leg from the recent bullet wound. He and Spike have often had entire conversations that were not at all about the things that others overheard.

The stories they told one another... The meaning hidden within the scant little that was revealed or referenced...

Jet was adept at reading between the lines.

He was also quite familiar with the tenacity of the syndicates. Hell, not that long ago he'd been reminded of their ruthlessness when Meifa was pursued by men who had worked with her father. A young girl, no contact with her old man in years because her mother had taken her away, and yet the syndicate was fully prepared to cut her down just because she had been his blood relation.

What sort of fate awaited a man who had invited a former enforcer on board his ship? It didn't matter that Spike had never told Jet much about his past or his criminal affiliations. Jet was guilty of harboring a fugitive and would be punished for that if the syndicate could track down where they'd crashed.

Faye too would be at risk. She'd been tied to Spike since that bloody scene at the cathedral. She was marked for death as well.

If they'd done their homework, then they even knew about Ed. Good luck finding her, though. The young girl's ingenuity gave Jet a bit of solace. If anyone could avoid destruction it would be her.

But.

If Spike succeeded...

An impossible mission. Not just suicide but an intentional death that required the sacrifice to mercilessly slaughter every single individual associated with the threat itself. How could one man hope to decimate an entire syndicate?

Jet shivered.

There was nothing Spike could do for a dead woman. There was precious little he could feasibly do for his living crew mates. And, most painful of all... there was nothing Jet could do to help.

Even if he came roaring in with the Hammerhead... He might accidentally kill his partner in any attempt to assist. It was too risky. He'd done the calculations and had accepted his fate. There was only the waiting now... Waiting to see if the vultures would return to pick his bones clean.

A terribly familiar noise arose suddenly from the hangar of the Bebop.

"Oh she fucking didn't..." Jet breathed.

But his ears weren't wrong. In moments he saw the Hammerhead - his ship! - rising off the deck and soaring towards the crater city Spike had flown off towards hours ago.

Well, if anyone was going to defy fate... To shoot first before her opponent had a chance... To force her way into a situation way over her head and out of her hands...

Faye was a gambler, after all.

And, despite knowing the odds against her... He couldn't help but root for the girl.

"All right, Spike-o, let's roll." Jet called out as he emerged from the kitchen, hands busy screwing the lid onto a thermos of coffee.

"Can't."

Frowning, Jet looked up from his task to see his lanky partner sprawled out on the couch with baby Lupin passed out on his chest.

Smirking, Spike raised his hands off the baby to spread them in a "what can you do" sort of gesture.

Jet sighed. "Seriously? Can't you just put him in the playpen to sleep?"

"I could try, sure. But chances are that'll wake him. He tends to notice when he's taken from someone's body heat. If you really want though..." Spike made as if to shift into an attempt at just that.

Hastily waving his hands back and forth in a negative motion, coffee sloshing within the thermos in his good hand, Jet felt a rush of relief when Spike relaxed back onto the couch. Disturbing the baby was Jet's least favorite thing to do. Lupin had an unearthly wail when he was mostly unconscious and trying to stay that way. It was not a good sound.

"Nevermind. I'll just get started on these assholes myself. Maybe Faye will be done getting groceries and wanna pitch in. I'm sure she's been dying for a chance to kick some ass."

Spike made a noise that could have been agreement. Jet glanced back at the other man to see his eyes were shut. No doubt Spike was not far from passing out himself.

Shaking his head at the laziness that seemed to be a Spiegel gene, Jet went to the storage locker in the corner of the room and took out a pile of blankets to lay on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. It wasn't much of a safety precaution and truthfully Spike had never let the baby roll off him but it made Jet feel a bit better about walking away from the sleepy pair.

He came across Ed and Ein playing tug-of-war with a knotted up sheet in the hangar. His mouth ached in sympathy for Ed's teeth, though she seemed hardly concerned about the risk she was taking.

"You two wanna keep an eye on the boys in the living room while I'm gone? Make sure nobody falls off the couch or anything?"

Ein released his end of the sheet to give a bark of what Jet assumed was affirmation and the action sent Ed into a backwards somersault that ended with her scrambling to her feet with a ridiculous grin.

"Aye aye, mon capitan!" She exclaimed, giving a jaunty salute before dashing towards the inner portion of the ship.

A thought struck Jet as he moved to climb into his zipcraft. "And no drawing on either of them!"

The squeal that came echoing back from the corridor made him glad he said something.

The Bebop was a damn ship of fools, but they sure made it a fun place to call home.

A gift for @jetspikepub

***

"Jet. How many times am I going to have to ask you about this fucking meal. This plate is nothing but bell peppers. Where. Is. The. Meat." Spike stared daggers at his plate before lifting his gaze to focus solidly on Jet, who was smirking.

"Oh, I think you know exactly where the meat is." The older man replied with a confidence that seemed to inspire a blush to touch upon Spike's cheeks. Without another word, Jet set his plate down on the coffee table and strode off towards his sleeping quarters.

Spike gulped, hastily scarfed down the contents of his own plate, and then skulked down the hallway that Jet had taken.

Faye, sprawled as much as a person can sprawl on the yellow chair, snorted and shook her head.

Ed looked at Jet's untouched plate, Spike's empty plate, and then in the direction the men had disappeared. She frowned and looked back at Faye as the older woman finished her own plate and set it down on the floor for Ein to lick up any remnants he could find, which Ein set to with gusto.

"Faye-Faye, does Jet-person have another plate in his room?" The hacker inquired then. Her eyes lit up as an idea dawned on her. "IS HE HOARDING MEAT?" Ed leapt up from the floor, her own plate falling from her lap to the floor as she moved. Ein approached to investigate if she'd left any scraps while Faye, in a remarkable show of speed, tackled Ed to the floor.

"Ed, there's no... uh... he isn't... there's no food in Jet's room. Don't worry. If we actually had any it would've been on your plate, you know that. They're just... that was just... see, they've had this inside joke..." Faye trailed off as Ed stopped trying to wrestle herself free. "Leave the boys alone, okay? Look! If you're still hungry, Jet left his plate without eating any of it! An unguarded plate is always up for grabs, you know the rules around here."

Breaking loose of Faye's grasp, Ed did a pirouette and dove at the plate Jet had set down.

"Hooray for Ed! Seconds please, yes thank you! Ein, would you care for some too? Faye-Faye, there's enough for us to share with you!"

Picking herself up off the deck, Faye shook her head. "All you kid. I'm heading to the bridge for a smoke. Just... ah... yeah don't go bugging the boys for anything else." Faye smirked to herself as she climbed up the ladder. Oh they would owe her for this, that's for sure... they'd owe her something nice indeed!

"What's for dinner?" Spike inquired as he sat down on the couch and accepted a plate from Jet.

The other man grinned fiendishly at him. "Ravioli roulette."

"The hell?" Faye asked, baffled.

"Well, one bag was beef ravioli and one was cheese so... Good luck finding the protein bits?" Jet's explanation set off a stampede of forks sticking into ravioli pockets and hastening to hungry tongues.

Ed let out a joyous whoop. "Winner winner beefy dinner!" She twisted away from the fork in Faye's outstretched hand. "Mine!"

Scowling, Faye returned her attention to her own plate which was noticeably less full than it had been before her fruitless attempt to score a sure bet of actual meat from Ed's dish.

Whipping around with a glare, Faye caught a sheepish grin steal across Spike's face before he swallowed the overly large bite of food in his mouth.

"What the fuck!" Faye yelped.

"Snooze'n'lose." Spike mumbled at her as he stuffed another ravioli - from his own plate this time - into his mouth. He gulped it down and then gestured with his fork at the plate in her lap. "Gotta start paying better attention around here or you'll end up with nothing to eat."

Redirecting her own gaze just in time to see Ein attempt to paw a ravioli off and onto the ground, Faye pulled her plate from his four-legged reach and held it aloft as she snarled at the dog. Ein, unperturbed, dropped back onto the floor and began to snuffle around Ed's feet.

"This is ridiculous! I deserve to have a delicious filling dinner!" Faye exclaimed as she polished off the remnants of her meal.

"You were gonna go for Ed's dinner when you realized hers had meat in it." Jet mentioned.

"Yeah, well, I was motivated by starvation, Jet. Out of my mind from an appetite eating away at my very guts. You'd do the same if you were as hungry as me. You can't blame me for the actions taken by a ravenous individual."

"Oh for crying out loud," Jet muttered. "There's no excuse for taking food from a kid. Next time pay better attention to your own plate and maybe you won't lose half your meal to Spike and the damn dog."

"Yeah, Faye, if you weren't so greedy you would've gotten to enjoy your very own beef ravioli instead of that delight going to me." Spike added to the taunt by patting his stomach.

"What?! If I can't have that bite, then you sure as shit aren't gonna get to keep it!" Faye shrieked, launching herself at the lean man. Spike, somehow anticipating this turn of events, managed to scramble out of her initial assault and thus began a game of chase around the living room and onto the bridge.

"What's Faye-Faye expect to happen?" Ed asked Jet then as she stacked her plate onto the pile of dirty dishes on the table.

"Who even knows. Maybe she plans to land a punch that brings up the contents of his stomach. Not like she'd eat the results of that, although I can see that making Ein happy." Jet shrugged. "Spike brought it on himself by teasing her like that. There wasn't a beef ravioli on her plate in the first place. Or his either for that matter," Jet confided to Ed with a wink.

The hacker grinned. "Ed got the beef?"

Jet nodded. "Those fools live on cigarettes anyway. You got all the beef, kid."

"Can Ed draw on it?"

Spike, sitting on the couch, glanced down to his left where Ed was cross-legged on the floor but swaying side to side as she gazed at the unblemished whiteness of the cast on Spike's arm.

"Knock yourself out." He replied. His chest felt tight at the way her eyes lit up at being granted permission.

"You're in for it now," Jet told him with a chuckle as Ed scrambled to her feet and dashed from the room, presumably to acquire markers.

Spike stared up at the ceiling fan making slow circles. "I don't do a lot that makes people happy. Kinda nice when I can."

"Mm. Meds must be working on you."

"Nah, didn't take any." The revolution of the ceiling fan was mesmerizing. So steady. Never ending. "It's just a broken arm, Jet. I don't need to numb myself to that. The pain reminds me that I'm still here."

"That's probably not healthy, you know." Faye informed him as she came into the room from the kitchen, a plate stacked with grilled cheeses in one hand and the necks of three bottles of beer very carefully clenched in her other. "Ringalingaling, dinner bell!"

"See, life is just too wonderful here, Faye. It's like living a dream so I need to remember that it's real." Spike told her as he straightened up on the couch a bit and reached out with his unbroken right hand for one of the beers.

"Sarcasm isn't gonna get you a drink." She replied, sitting on the landing of the stairs that led to the round door. She arranged the bottles next to her after setting the platter of sandwiches on the table in between the men.

"That's what you made for dinner?" Jet asked then. "Just cheese and bread? No meat? No soup? No salad?"

"Hey be glad I found anything in there to make a meal." She snapped. "And that kind of gratitude isn't gonna get you a drink either."

Ed came rushing back into the room with Ein at her heels. The little dog was loaded down with an apron Ed had fashioned into a cape and then stuffed the pockets with jars of nail polish, permanent markers, and stickers boasting "catch of the day!"

"Woohoo! Gimme gimme gimme, yum yum yum!" The hacker cried as she threw herself to her knees and slid the last few feet to the table.

Faye was eyeing Ein's payload with suspicion as Ed dug in. "Are those my nail polish bottles, Ed?"

"Nope! Art supplies! For decorating Spike-person's cast!"

Spike smirked and Faye rolled her eyes. "Ugh whatever. Hey! Hands off until I get an appropriate thank you!" She yelled as she slapped at Jet's hand as he reached for a sandwich.

"Thanks? For this? Ein could have made this!"

"Yeah, well, did he? Didn't think so."

"I wasn't being sarcastic, Faye. Being here really is unreal. Never thought I'd find a place where I can just...be. I know I never really appreciated it before but... I do now." Spike spoke up again, interrupting the argument that had been brewing between Jet and Faye.

Faye eyed him suspiciously but opened one of the beers and passed it over. Ed, half a sandwich stuffed into her mouth, ripped the crust off another to give to Ein and then tossed the gooey center portion onto Spike's lap.

"Well... I guess it's nice that I didn't have to make those sammies." Jet begrudgingly admitted. "So...er...thanks Faye."

She smirked. "Yeah that's more like it." Tossing him the third bottle, she waited until he opened it to hold hers out towards the table in a gesture of a toast. "Cheers to beers. To being here. To food and family or whatever we are."

The guys shared a grin with each other and then her as well before leaning towards the table to clink their bottles together.

"Ooey gooey yum yum!" Ed added joyfully as she pushed back from the table. "Now that Ed has a full tummy... Let the artistry begin!"

"Save me some room on that cast, Ed." Faye told her. "If you're gonna use my polish for this... Well, I oughta get a chance too."

"I don't recall giving you permission to draw on me," Spike noted.

Faye raised both her eyebrows. "Oh no? I could've sworn you did when given the choice of that or having me draw on your actual face the next time you pass out."

Jet chuckled as Spike gave a sigh and nodded to Faye's threat.

"Jet! Here!" Ed tossed some of the stickers at the ex-cop. "Ed made a tic tac toe board! If we use stickers we can play again and again!" She grinned toothily up at Spike. "Wanna play winner?"

That tight feeling was spreading across his chest. It felt like his heart was cracking open but in a light and bright way. Like his heart was expanding.

He really hadn't been sarcastic earlier. Being on the Bebop, surrounded by these ridiculous individuals, it was a life he would have never imagined for himself. Who could have predicted these folks would become such an integral part of his world? That the things he avoided and disliked so much (in theory at least, in practice his initial opinion had been proven quite wrong) would be so dear to him?

Vicious and Julia were dead. The Red Dragons were in shambles. Spike Spiegel had successfully "died" again. Ed and Ein had found their way back to where they truly belonged.

He was alive after all ...and much to his surprise, life was actually good.

"This here couch ain't big enough for the both of us." Spike drawled, standing on one end of the long yellow piece of furniture. He had his hands on both hips as though poised above a set of pistols.

A slow grin spread across Faye's face. "I reckon you're right about that at least." She licked her lips as she eyed the distance between Spike, the couch, and her own position standing in the same pose as Spike on the other end of the most comfortable furnishing the Bebop had to offer.

"That couch is big enough for three people! Three!" Jet snapped, a vein throbbing in his forehead at the antics of his crewmates. He held a pile of instant noodles stacked atop each other, though he was thinking of just backing into the kitchen to feast on them all himself while Spike and Faye dueled it out.

"YUM YUM IN MY TUM!" Ed came in with a roar, vaulting over the back of the couch and landing smack dab in the middle of the contested territory just as Spike and Faye both subtly shifted as though about to make their move. Ed beamed up at Jet as the other pair twitched and tried to look as if they hadn't adjusted their footing in anticipation of a launch. "What's the holdup here? Grab a seat, it's time to eat! Let's goooooo!"

Ein, sensing the battleground revert back to a standard living room, came trotting up the laundry room stairs and settled onto the floor in front of Ed's position. He gave a yip of agreement with Ed's demand.

Jet watched as Faye crossed her arms and turned her nose up into the air before casually settling onto one side of the couch next to the hacker. Simultaneously, Spike started to whistle to himself as he plopped onto the cushion on Ed's other side. Sighing in relief, Jet sat down on the chair across from the oddballs he was stuck with and began doling out the individually packaged meals.

He wondered if Ed knew the full scale of the war she'd averted. Faye and Spike immediately dug into their food containers though Ed hesitated after pulling the cord to heat her own. She locked eyes briefly with Jet, shifting just her eyes over to Faye and then to Spike before slyly smiling as she looked back at Jet and only then gave her attention over to sating her own hunger.

Chuckling, Jet activated the second cup he'd maintained possession of and leaned over the coffee table to place it in front of Ein. Of course Ed knew what she had done... hell, she'd probably been watching from the shadows somewhere to determine the perfect time to intercede. Well, he couldn't really blame the kid. Spike and Faye were often far more interesting and amusing to watch than the crap on the television!

"The issue is... you've undergone a change. You used to care *for* these people in your life. As in, you would ensure their needs were met regarding sustenance and hygiene maintenance and basic things of that nature. And now, rather naturally, they have grown on you in a way that may seem insidious but is truly very commonplace, very benign, and very beneficial."

"I don't know how benign and beneficial it is to have a bunch of wild slobs to worry about day and night." Jet muttered gruffly.

The therapist regarded him with a steady gaze. Even through the monitor screen, Jet could feel the evaluation in those calm eyes. He pursed his lips and straightened up on the chair to face them as a solid and steady presence.

"So now what." He demanded gruffly.

"Well, now you care *about* them as well. About their emotional wellbeing. About their joys and sorrows. You care what their favorite meal is, not just about providing adequate nutrition. It's a subtle difference but I think it explains why you've gotten more irritable in response to their actions and behaviors. If you recall, this is also how you unintentionally responded to Alisa's role in your life, at least according to what you told me before."

Jet sighed. "Yeah, okay, I get it. I'm smothering them. Keeping them from living their best lives. I should just kick them all off the ship and go my own way again."

"Hardly. Besides, you're now being deliberately stubborn and trying to lash out from a place of fear. The anticipation of loneliness is not a comfortable concept, understandably so. You are still providing them with a stable home. You are still seeing to their needs, often before your own are met. You need their presence as much as they require yours. Quite honestly I think the best course of action is to simply open a line of communication with these crewmates of yours." The therapist continued to speak in soothing tones. "There is no shame in admitting affection towards people in your life. There is no shame in acknowledging that you care."

Jet glowered at the screen. "We don't do that kind of thing around here. They'd think I was sick or dying."

"We've addressed before the toxicity of that type of environment, Jet. I know it is hard to change ingrained habits, but you might be surprised by their reaction. And, realistically, we are all dying. It starts the moment we are born. In light of that... don't you want to embrace a life full of all the emotions a person can experience? Don't you want to share your heart with the people around you?" The therapist paused, collected their thoughts. "You have made exceptional progress from the time I was first assigned your case after the incident. Even considering the years where you barely checked in. I am confident that you can continue to grow in healthy ways and, moreover, I am convinced that you taking this first step will ultimately guide the paths of those around you. You stressed to me before how you do not want to control anyone - this is not control. This is merely providing an example by virtue of your own approach to embracing the humanity of your soul. There's no rush, of course. Just... think about it. I'll be available whenever you'd like to talk again."

The screen flickered to black and Jet leaned back with a sigh. It wasn't bad advice, per se, but it wasn't anything he was prepared to do. He could practically hear the snickers of Faye... he could easily envision the blank yet baffled stare of Spike... he could... well... Ed would likely throw a celebration. And... it's not like Ein would judge him. Ein knew better than anyone else on the ship how people truly felt - dogs just had a sense for that sort of thing.

Maybe... well, he could consider it at any rate. Faye and Spike were snarky and sarcastic and apathetic on their good days, so really... how much worse could their attitudes be if he started to open up a bit and admitted that he liked having them around? Besides, what did their indifference or bitterness matter in the face of giving Ed something to rejoice about?

Well. Yeah. He'd think about it. A man should never rush into anything if he had the ability to give a thing a proper think over...

"Okay, okay... I've got one. Vicious, Julia, Elektra." Faye drawled, unsteadily setting her drink down on the coffee table. "Fuck, marry, kill." She smirked at Spike's puddled form on the floor, sure she knew what the answers would be.

Spike blinked at her slowly and then grinned. "Vicious."

"Okay, wait... which though? You have to assign someone to each." She elaborated.

Spike nodded. "Vicious. All three."

Faye put her head in her hands. Jet's guffaw accompanied Spike's drunken giggles like a soundtrack of idiocy.

"You, I don't..." She gave up.

Spike pushed himself into a sitting position and smirked. "If it makes you feel better... you'd get all three spots too." He gave a wink to Jet. "Sorry, bud, you only claim two spots... I don't often wanna kill you."

"I don't get it," Jet moaned. "How come I'm always the one who catches Lupin's colds? You and Faye are his freaking parents!"

Spike glanced over at Jet's ailing form sprawled on the couch. "Well, stop accepting the treats he offers you. That piece of cheese he shared with you yesterday? That wasn't cheese, that was the flu."

Jet grunted. "But I... you both take his offerings. He screams if you don't!"

Smirking, Spike shrugged. "Sleight of hand, old man. It's a skill you oughta learn."

Groaning, Jet curled into a fetal position. "And Faye? She doesn't do your little magic tricks."

At that, Spike laughed out right. "You're kidding, right? After all the times she's fleeced you, you haven't learned to watch her hands? She's no magician, but she's a goddamn cheat for sure."

Jet scowled at his partner. "I watch people's eyes. That's where their character is revealed. That's how you can tell if someone is bluffing..." He trailed off as if remembering the last time he'd been playing cards against - and losing to - Faye. "I... she... wait a minute..."

"Those cop-issue lie detector eyes are more of a liability than a boon, I think." Spike teased. "Anyway, he's just a baby. If you can't figure out how to pretend you've eaten something he's given you... well, plan on spending a lotta days as you are right now."

Jet whimpered.

"Hand it over lady! All your cash! Now!"

Faye closed her eyes and took in a deep drag of her cigarette.

"Did you hear me?! Give me your wallet! All your woolongs, now!!"

Exhaling slowly, she opened her eyes to a narrowed slit indicating her aggravation. The man standing before her was dressed decently for someone down on his luck enough to be utilizing theft as a means of living. He was a bit thinner than would be considered healthy and had sunken eyes that gleamed with avarice. He brandished his knife like a cattle prod as if to encourage her compliance.

Faye snorted and gestured irritably at herself. "Does it look like I have money?"

The would-be robber glared at her. "You're on the street half naked! No doubt you've been raking it in tonight!"

"All right, asshole. You're fucking with the wrong woman." Without warning, she flicked her cigarette at his face. Her aim true, the burning tip succeeded in making contact with his eye. The man cried out in pain, slashing wildly with the knife as his other hand shot to cover the injured eye.

Faye, back to the wall she'd been leaning against while enjoying her smoke, scuttled to the side to avoid his blind assault. Moving fluidly, she swung her leg out low to knock into his ankles and brought him crashing down to the dirty alley ground. A swift kick to his elbow had him dropping the blade he'd somehow managed to maintain possession of in the initial fall and she quickly booted that out of his reach.

By the time Jet came out of the building with a cardboard box presumably full of the miscellaneous parts they'd stopped at this sales shop/garage for, Faye was standing with one heeled boot planted firmly on the wanna-be thief's back and casually smoking a new cigarette that she'd liberate from a pack he'd had on his person. The blade was decent so she'd pocketed that for herself as a souvenir to make up for having to deal with this kinda shit first thing in the morning.

"What the hell happened out here? I wasn't gone five minutes!"

Faye rolled her eyes. "Try closer to an hour, Jet. You're like a kid in a candy store at these places, you can't get in and out quick. Trade me. I'll take that stuff back to the ship, you can haul this prick to the nearest precinct. Probably a bounty on him for something, he seems the type."

Jet sighed as he handed over the heavy box. "One of these days we'll have to clear your name so you can bring perps in on your own."

"Psh. I already do enough work for this job, I think you can handle being the delivery guy. Besides, what else is all that muscle good for?" She jested, using her right elbow to jab at his abdomen as she gave him a wink.

The flush that spread across his cheeks was always somewhat endearing to her, so Faye quickly made her way towards the zipcraft with a cheeky little "ta!"

Just another day, just another brawl, just another blush...

@febuwhump prompt: suffering in silence

***

His grandmother had taught him that a good solid meal could fix just about any problem. Or at least give you the fortitude and energy needed to go out and handle whatever needed handling. It was important to eat well - or at least regularly - to keep your mind and body and spirit sustained.

There was an ache inside his chest. He tried to fool himself into thinking it was lower, deep down in his belly. Hunger was surely responsible. And while they hadn't snagged a big bounty today, they had been given a ton of eggs from Ed's fa...

At any rate, they had a ton of eggs. Boiled up and painstakingly shelled by yours truly and then stacked - nearly a dozen per dish - into four serving plates and one dog dish.

He and Spike sat across from one another in the living room, no words spoken.

The silence was massive. It was suffocating. It was positively unnatural after what the two men had grown used to over the past few months.

There was no clacking of computer keys, no humming or bursts of song, no childish gleeful giggles. There was no hot dog breath panting against their ankles, no random scratching of doggy claws against a furry body, no whines that somehow communicated the intent of a conversation so well. There were no playing cards being shuffled, no woman's voice bemoaning her boredom or slyly teasing, no sound of heeled boots wandering down the hall as the owner returned from a senseless shopping spree.

Hell, he had no fucking clue where Faye had disappeared to. He hadn't seen her since sometime before the girls reprogrammed the ship to land here instead of going to Mars. The dog being gone made some sense... no doubt he'd trailed along after Ed when she departed. Ein had been stuck to her side since the hacker had first boarded the ship - literally, he'd even been glued to her at one point.

It's not like Ed had been kidnapped either. He had a pretty good idea of where she'd gone given who they'd met that day.

So the kid had a father. An actual living breathing blood-related family member. An absent-minded easily distractible work-focused father who probably wouldn't remember to instruct her to bathe once a week, who wouldn't bring her along on general wellness appointments so she could see a doctor too, who wouldn't keep her adequately fed...

His heart twisted painfully.

Or maybe it was his stomach. Maybe it was the bellyache of having finished his own pile of eggs and having ruthlessly and wordlessly joined Spike in devouring the plates that had been set out for the girls.

They hadn't even eaten anything today...

Gone. Not even a goodbye from Faye, though why they ought to have expected one...

When she bailed on them on Callisto there had been a note at least. But that was because she had been secretly hoping they'd track her down. She'd never admit as much, hell, she'd deny it if she bothered to acknowledge the accusation but they'd never had a conversation about it after he'd brought her back.

So this... this meant she didn't want to be found. Didn't want to be brought back like a wayward child.

Another pang as he polished off the second plate and then looked up to catch Spike's troubled eyes before they both glanced at Ein's untouched dish. A growling rumble echoed in the strained silence - was that his belly or Spike's? It didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

Silently, they both dove for the dish and scrambled to shove as many of the by-now repulsive eggs into their mouths.

It had to be done. He wanted no leftovers to sit in the fridge, mocking him that they had all chosen to leave. He wanted no evidence that he'd cared enough to try and provide for each of them.

Hell, he never wanted to lay eyes on an egg ever again.

Spike disappeared without saying a thing, leaving Jet in his apron in the living room all alone. Futilely trying to convince himself that the rawness of his battered heart was the food not sitting well in his stomach. Crossing his arms high on his chest, Jet closed his eyes and ground his teeth together, suffering in silence.

It would be easier to just go to sleep. No need then to be bothered by the lack of missing companions.

Instead, he opened his eyes again and forced himself to his feet. He made the climb to the bridge and stared hard at the words scrawled on the deck of the ship.

Swallowing past a lump in his throat, Jet turned away and moved to the navigation panel. Programmed the ship to launch and resume course towards Mars.

There was nothing good from Earth to bother with anymore.

@febuwhump prompt: semi-conscious

***

“So what the hell am I looking for here?”

Faye yawned before blinking tired eyes at the screen where Jet’s grumpy face was. She gave a half shrug. “How the hell should I know?”

“Aren’t you looking at the readout? I left it on the screen right in front of you!”

She rolled her eyes. “Idiot. You’re on the screen right in front of me.”

The flickering image of Jet was gritting its teeth, a vein popping on his forehead. “You can minimize this window. That will let you see me and the information on the bounty.”

Giving him a disbelieving look Faye poked at the keyboard keys using the tried and true hunt-and-peck method. Moments later, Jet’s image was gone entirely and the screen cleared to a blinking blue screen awaiting some sort of input.

Her comm device began to blare for attention and Faye huffed a sigh as she answered. “What.”

“You hung up on me!”

“The computer went dark! Now it’s all blue.”

Jet growled. “Where is Spike? Is he there? Put him on!” And then a thoughtful pause as if Jet was remembering Spike’s beaten up condition. “Is he awake?” Jet's concern over Spike's sleep made Faye's own heart thump with some odd combination of jealousy and mutual worry. Spike had risked his own life to save her, after all. Jet had wanted to disconnect the call. Far be it for anyone to care much about poor Faye Valentine - even Spike's rescue hadn't been on her behalf so much as to settle some bullshit score with a dick from his past.

Still, he had come for her.

Faye twisted to look at the lanky form of the cowboy stretched on the couch behind her. His eyes were closed but if anything he seemed to be holding his breath as though using a child’s method of feigning sleep where they forget to regulate their breathing and just try to hold completely still.

“Hm… semi-conscious at best.” She judged, giving Spike an out from having to deal with Jet’s attitude. A slight smile creased Spike’s face and she nearly rolled her eyes before remembering that Jet could see her and would notice that sort of reaction. Trust a cop to read too much into someone’s expressions.

“Well what the hell good are either of you!”

Faye stuck her tongue out at the irritable image on the small comm screen. “You’re the one who was bragging up a storm about bringing in the bacon with a big one all by your lonesome! I could have come along as backup but nooooo you insisted you were capable of doing this on your own!”

“All I needed was for you to send over that page of information! It didn’t send to the Hammerhead properly! See, this is why I’m always stuck on the ship handling the computer aspect of our cases! How hard is it to minimize a window?” Jet would have continued to berate her but Faye deactivated the call from her end with a satisfied smile.

“Leaving him to figure it out on his own?” Spike’s voice rumbled behind her.

Faye gave a negligent wave of her hand. “He found the information in the first place. So he’s gotta search it again on his on-board computer, whoop-dee-do. Maybe if he asked a little nicer I could have found what he was looking for.”

“You’re something else, Faye.”

This time she let herself roll her eyes. “Yeah and you were really jumping at the chance to help out yourself, Mr. I’m-just-gonna-lay-here-and-fake-sleeping.”

There was no response. Faye twisted to look at him again and Spike gave an exaggerated and not at all convincing snore.

“Real mature.” She muttered before carefully entering in the proper sequence of information to load up the computer screen. A nagging sense of guilt was forcing her hand but it was better to be the bigger person here. After all, Jet was out picking up work to make sure they could eat later and technically all she was responsible for was making sure Spike didn't tear any stitches or overdose on pain pills. Being a helpful teammate was something that she wasn't exactly familiar with but dammit she wanted to be. She hated to be indebted to anyone.

A few moments later the relevant information was copied and sent over to Jet’s zipcraft. “Never let him say I do nothing around here.” She remarked before glancing at Spike again when he had no quip of a response. She realized he’d gone from semi-conscious to unconscious, likely from the pain meds coursing through his system. Well, her work for the day was done and her only company was zonked out so…

Faye patted his pockets down lightly to find his pack of cigarettes and liberated his lighter as well. Time to celebrate a task well done!

@febuwhump prompt: "You weren't supposed to get hurt."

***

Spike was close-lipped for the entire arduous walk from Doc's office to the wharf where the Bebop was anchored. Jet had done just about all the talking - and unnecessary threatening - at Doc's. He wondered at his own inability to shut up. Was it residual adrenaline from the shoot out prompting him to speak up? Was it a bone-deep fear of how everything seemed to be unraveling since the girls left? Was the silence somehow more uncomfortable than usual?

The silence did feel different. It used to carry an essence of stress, standard worries over funds and finding work, but overall it had been an easy-going sort of quiet that engulfed the ship. Even after Faye and Ed and Ein came on board, the ship was not magically full of conversation and sound even if there was more chatter than before.

The silence that had consumed the vessel after they left Earth... that had the weight of misery on it. Disconsolate, they had fled the unnatural quiet to nurse their bad moods at the bar. It had almost felt like old times, before the others, even when the place started getting shot up. Hell, that brought back a slew of memories from the misadventures he and Spike had had when they were merely a duo.

Until he caught a bullet in his thigh.

Was he getting too old for this shit? Sure, he'd been shot before but this... this felt more ominous than before which was really saying something. He hadn't had all the information back when he lost his arm and he didn't exactly have much more to go on with the current bullshit hitting the fan but it had a very dark vibe. Like a python was slowly curling around their airway, choking them into submission.

This was the type of thing that required a response. If they didn't lash out at their attackers then their enemies would continue to hit them until they were dead. Simple as that.

Spike's past had reared its ugly head and would not be deterred this time.

They could still flee, of course. Always a chance they might be able to get far enough away and stay under the radar to avoid being hunted down. Not likely, odds of success with that plan were atrocious. But... well...

Every step sent agony coursing up his leg, radiating along his spine, lodging in his skull like the bullet had dug into his brain instead of the fleshy meat of his thigh. He'd lucked out in that it hadn't hit any arteries. And that Doc had an office so close to where the action went down. Small wonder, that. Doc had been one of Spike's contacts and that certainly meant there was some shared syndicate connection between the pair of them.

By the time they got through the ship and to the living room, Jet was covered in a sheen of perspiration. Spike, tucked underneath his metal arm and carrying most of Jet's weight, began to turn them towards the hall leading to the sleeping quarters but Jet paused.

"Here. Far enough. Get me to the couch." Jet managed through clenched teeth. Not often that he and Spike traded places and roles like this. The couch was Spike's domain, patching up wounds was Jet's. Maybe the discrepancy was why Spike hadn't said shit.

Once he was settled into a sitting position on the couch, Jet cleared his throat and gave his full attention to his partner. "All right, look here-"

"You weren't supposed to get hurt." Spike interrupted. He was still standing next to the couch but he wasn't looking at Jet. His gaze was fixed on some point off in the distance, not seeing the grated stairs he was facing.

"I'd rather it hadn't happened myself," Jet admitted readily. "But that's just how it shakes out sometimes."

Spike continued to stare off, jaw tight.

"I've dealt with gunshot wounds before, bud." Jet reminded him. "This one was clean in and out, and Doc did a mighty fine job on this. Hell, he even hooked me up with a crutch so I don't have to rely on you hauling my ass to the shitter every time I gotta go."

"It's my fault." Spike said flatly. "I should have left this fucking ship months ago. I should have stayed off on Callisto."

"Shoulda woulda coulda never did nothing for nobody." Jet reasoned. "Done is done and we're here now. Not your fault this happened."

Spike made a harsh noise in his throat and finally turned to look down at Jet. "Not my fault? Not my fucking fault? You're kidding, right? You know this is all because of me. They're gunning for me and they'll take out everyone around me just to rub salt in the wound. I was stupid. Vicious gave me such a long rope to run around on... why didn't I stay on my guard? This shouldn't have happened. You're not supposed to get hurt because of me."

Jet was quiet. Truth was... it was Spike's fault. But at the same time it wasn't. After he'd cottoned onto the fact that Spike had a criminal past, Jet could have kicked him off the ship anytime. Could have turned him into the ISSP on any moon or planet. Could have thrown the kid to the wolves and wiped his hands of the problem.

"They're gonna try for the others." Spike's voice was low, rough. There was no need to specify who he meant.

Jet shivered and Spike pursed his lips. He walked off quickly and came back with a blanket from one of the bedrooms before Jet could even call after him.

"You're in shock still. Ought to get you out of these sweat-soaked clothes too." Spike advised.

"Later. I just need to rest now." Jet argued. He made to lie down on the couch and Spike moved swiftly to help him ease the wounded leg up onto the cushion. "Lemme rest. We'll figure out everything else later. See if you can raise either of them on comms. Probably we're too far for the signal to reach but..."

Spike gave him a nod and disappeared up the ladder to the bridge.

Closing his eyes, Jet strove to take deep and even breaths. He couldn't think about the girls being targets. Couldn't think about the staggering number of enemies suddenly poised to destroy them all. It was an overwhelming prospect and Spike was right - he was still in shock. The pain of getting shot was leeching back into him now that he was reclining and unable to distract himself with anything else.

It did not feel good.

Worse, the silence of the empty ship was beginning to sound and feel positively menacing.

@febuwhump prompt: "Who did this to you?"

doubles as my submission for Relationship Week: Spike and Faye and Jet @bebopcrew

***

She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth and frowned at the smear of bright red blood that stood out so vibrantly against her pale skin. Well, at least she hadn't been wearing her gloves - blood was such a bitch to get out of fabric.

"Faye?" Spike's voice held an uncharacteristic note of concern.

She paused on the landing between the two short flights of stairs in the living room. Spike was sitting on the couch with a steaming cup of ramen cradled in his hands. He was frowning at her over the top of it and his worried expression along with his greeting had also drawn Jet's attention for the other man was turning away from the computer screen to see what had Spike so perturbed.

Both men were on their feet so abruptly that Faye felt like she'd somehow missed a segment of time. Was she that zoned out?

"Who did this to you?" Jet was demanding as he tried to lead her over to the couch.

Spike, grim-faced, was already rooting through the mini fridge for the small arsenal of bullets and other destructive items he liked to stash there.

Faye fobbed off Jet's tentative grasp of her right arm but wobbled alarmingly enough that he was able to successfully catch hold of her on his second attempt. Feeling far too spent to fight off his attention, Faye gave in to the doctoring that Jet began to administer once he'd gotten her onto the couch.

"Which bounty were you after?" Spike asked quietly as Jet dug through the medical kit they kept stashed in the living room.

Faye turned her head to spit out a mouthful of blood. She felt bad about that momentarily but then remembered how many times Spike had bled all over the furniture and floor in here and decided she'd earned the right to do the same on occasion.

"Goliath." She muttered. "Aptly named, turns out. Dunno what happened. I shot him. I know I did. Point blank." She'd never had an adversary react the way the giant man had. It was like the bullets she fired at him lent him an unholy strength. In retrospect, being close enough for her target to reach out and grab her was not the best idea. The whole benefit of using a gun was to keep your distance so you stayed out of trouble. But she'd assumed he would... well, at least flinch. Instead, he'd smiled the most terrible smile she had ever seen crawl across someone's face and then he'd snapped his hand out so fast that she hadn't been able to dance away from his strike.

"Jet." Spike's voice was calm yet Faye could sense a maelstrom of meaning in the tone used to address the other man. It had always mystified and impressed her how little the two men had to say to one another to communicate effectively.

Sure enough, Jet understood every portion of the things Spike left unsaid.

"I'll send you coordinates as soon as I get the location." He was still preoccupied with trying to staunch the blood flowing from a gash across Faye's right side. Surprisingly, that open wound didn't hurt nearly as much as where Goliath's fists had landed on her left hip and her right cheek, nor where his ridiculously strong grip had crushed her right wrist when he latched onto her dominant hand to knock her gun away.

Spike was already to the circular door by the time Faye blinked again.

"My gun," she murmured, wincing as Jet began to clean along the cut so he could stitch it up neatly.

"I'll find it." Spike assured her. "Tell Jet everything you know before you pass out. I don't wanna go looking for a needle in a haystack trying to find this guy."

She gave him a jaunty little salute though she immediately regretted the movement. Everything was sore or seeping blood. She hadn't had her ass handed to her that badly in years. If the sirens of approaching squad cars hadn't frightened off the bounty... well, she decided not to think about that. What ifs were pointless.

"Okay Faye... so where did this all go down and where do you think he went..." Jet began interrogating her while suturing her side.

It had been demeaning to be tossed around like a ragdoll. She didn't like having to admit there were times she was in over her head. But something in her heart swelled at how the guys jumped to offer assistance without her having to ask. Likely they knew how difficult it was to swallow one's pride and admit to needing help. But they made it so she didn't have to voice her failure at all... they just bypassed that aspect of the issue and dove straight to the heart of things - taking stock of her injuries and taking over the mission of bringing Goliath down.

Hissing at the pressure of Jet's metal fingers pinching her flesh together so he could thread the sterilized needle through the undamaged bits along either side of the slash, Faye began to recount her day and where it all went wrong...

@febuwhump prompt: hostage situation

also Spike/Jet day of Relationship Week @bebopcrew

***

He wasn't sure why he cared.

Even as he crept around the warehouse, sizing up the situation, he wasn't sure why he was there at all.

Taking down the lookouts, he wondered at why he was bothering with all this work.

Sneaking into the sprawling storage area of the building, pallets loaded with plastic wrapped boxes of varying sizes, he casually incapacitated each and every thug he encountered without permitting a single one to make any sort of outcry.

It was uncharacteristically restrained of him and again he pondered at what that could mean.

Rushing in with guns blazing was more his style but that could have easily led to the gang simply killing their hostage. But truly what did that matter to him? Why was he going through all this extra effort to be inconspicuous? Why was he risking himself in the first place?

His conscience was not something he typically listened to and yet it had not let him stay aboard the refurbished fishing trawler. It had whispered of debts and of good deeds, it had egged him on from the moment the gang had reached out thinking their catch had someone worth exploiting to make demands of.

Spike wasn't a man of much money. From the little he had learned so far of Jet Black...neither was he. Nor did Jet seem to have many people in his life. As far as hostages go, their claim on Jet was all but useless. In fact it was a bit worse than useless... If only because it was going to be their last mistake.

He considered the chances that some or all of these criminals might have a price on their head. It would be worth looking into once he was done here.

Was it an obligation that he felt? Something owed to the scarred man who had his back in that tavern brawl on TJ? Could it be shrugged off as needing the other man around to help pilot the ship?

Technically it was Jet's vessel, after all, though if Jet wasn't around who could say it wasn't Spike's? He could have taken advantage of this unfortunate event and become sole owner of the ship currently docked at the space station nearest the asteroid colony.

But there was something compelling about Jet Black. Something honorable and admirable that Spike found peculiarly attractive. The character of the other man was something that Spike desired to emulate. That dogged pursuit of justice. That sturdy moral fiber. It was all so far removed from everything Spike had seen and revered while growing up.

Jet was a breath of fresh air. An outlier in a sea of selfish souls.

It would be a crime for someone like him to be a casualty of such a pathetic crew of assholes.

And it didn't hurt that he was easy on the eyes, Spike mused as he reached the hallway leading to the office where the last of the gang members must be holed up with Jet.

There were worse reasons to save a life.

@febuwhump prompt: "Please don't."

also written for Jet/Faye Day of Relationship Week @bebopcrew

***

Faye crossed her arms and turned from the starry view spread before the windows of the bridge of the Bebop. She was antsy as all hell. It had been endless days of monotonous routine and while it was good to finally have the ship space worthy again and to see different stars than what Mars's nighttime skyline had to offer... it wasn't enough.

She had to get the fuck out of here. Sitting stagnant was simply not her style no matter how well it seemed to suit her companions.

"I'm going." She announced, immediately making good on her words by putting one foot in front of the other. Adding a sway to her stride was not usually something that paid off in front of Jet but she couldn't help swinging her hips just a touch to try and tease him.

"Please don't."

The whisper had been so quiet that Faye momentarily doubted she'd heard anything at all. Glancing out of the corner of her eye towards where Jet sat at the navigation panel of the ship convinced her otherwise. He was resolutely staring down at the screen and buttons, hands lying atop the controls yet still - they were docked now, after all, no need to guide the ship. Furthermore, there was a touch of color to his usually pale features.

Embarrassment? Shame at having spoken? Irritation with himself over the escape of delicate emotional fragility?

She wondered what it had cost him to speak up. Wondered if regret was already eating him alive from the inside out. His jaw was clenched tight as if to keep from spewing any more weakness out at her, though the damage had already been done.

Well... she could pretend that she hadn't heard his plea. Although the fact that she'd stopped traipsing towards the ladder would be difficult to pass off as anything other than a reaction of shock to his words.

Her mind was still reeling, in fact. Jet was not the type of person to beg for company. He kept a stern face on almost all the time - though she had seen him let down his guard around Spike more than once, whether the pair were laughing together uproariously or whether it was an expression of desperate concern as Jet watched over Spike's uneasy rest. The point was, Jet tended to shrug his own emotional needs off. He liked to pretend he was fine with solitude and that he didn't truly want or need any of them around. He talked a big talk and walked a big walk but Faye could see through the act.

She'd trained herself for years to read past the lines... to see below surface level at what other people tried to hide. It was a skill imperative to survival when she was meandering around the cosmos on her own and had to trust her own instincts to keep her safe from the varying degrees of evil out there.

This obviously unintentional beseeching revealed significant cracks in his façade. Not entirely surprising given the recent upheaval they'd undergone with Ed and Ein departing (fuck, the guilt of being responsible for that was plaguing her mind almost constantly and was certainly a big part of why she'd had a stomach-ache for days now) and her own flakiness (though to be fair to herself the boys had launched from Earth without even trying to contact her before taking off) and most significantly Spike's whole deal.

Inhaling deeply, Faye slowly turned to face Jet fully. He might be too nervous to meet her eyes but she'd be damned if she didn't address this soft-spoken entreaty with her characteristic boldness.

"I know I haven't given you much cause to believe me..." she began and nearly smiled when he snorted. "But, well, like I told that lunkhead... this is the only place I can come back to. So, don't think me leaving now means you're getting rid of me."

At that, Jet finally raised his gaze to meet hers. His eyes were a turbulent shade of gray that bordered on blue. It was a stormy sea that she could get lost in without any desire of rescue. So different from the murkiness of Spike's mismatched brown eyes... and such a contrast from the vibrancy of her own lovely green eyes. There was a steeliness to Jet's eyes that reminded her of the stability of the ship itself. And right now she could see a mixture of gratitude and relief in those beautiful eyes and in the slacking of his jaw as his mouth eased into a hint of a smile.

"You, uh..."

She interrupted him before he could sort out where that query was going. It wasn't taking pity on him, it was enabling her own escape from the awkwardness of this exchange.

"We're about out of bandages and if he keeps oozing through the way he has been... well, I'm not about to sacrifice my fucking laundry to wrap his wounds. Besides, you said we need to pick up another batch of blood bags while we're here. I've been keeping an eye on that zombie for too long now - I need to stretch my legs. You had your chance already when you were fixing the ship up so we could leave Mars. Well, now it's your turn to make sure he keeps breathing."

Jet licked his lips - did he know how enticing he was being? - and gave her a nod. She rolled her eyes but nodded right back before moving towards the ladder once more.

"Wanna... uh, grab some smokes while you're out?" He called to her.

"Nah. Tired of Spike's brand and anyway why have that temptation around to fuck with him. We deserve something a little nicer anyway. Cohiba Behike sounds like the winner to me but we'll see what's available." She turned enough to give him a wink, relishing the look of astonishment that passed over his face at her casual mention of the expensive cigars.

"We don't have the cash for-" Her rich chuckle cut off his protest.

"I have my ways. 'Ta!" Impulsively, she spun back to blow him a kiss before dropping down the ladder with her heels along the railings to bypass the actual steps.