Prompt Challenge - Tumblr Posts - Page 3

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.

Alone Together

It had been two weeks. The ship was as fixed as it was going to be with the funds they had on hand - long gone now, of course. The RedTail was still fucked. The Swordfish II, Bob had told them, was in an impound lot. The Hammerhead was their only way of getting around for the time being and Jet wasn’t keen on letting Faye utilize his ride.

So she lazed around the ship doing a fat lot of nothing. There wasn’t anything to do. Which suited her motivational level just fine. She could tuck herself away in a corner of the ship no one ever bothered with and cry her eyes out. She could nip into Spike’s room and thoroughly trash the place (after looting it of any ammunition, cigarettes, booze or anything else of value). She could take hours-long showers (at least until the water ran out, which had happened by day 6).

In retrospect, tearing out the pages of the books she’d unearthed in the shambles of Spike’s quarters had been a mistake. Boring though the tomes had likely been, it would have given her something to read as a distraction from her thoughts. When she was feeling especially inspired to do something she would wander there and pick up a page or two and try to decide what sort of story it had been a part of.

The food situation was dire. The water situation had been resolved to a degree - Jet had come back from one trip to town with a case of bottled water - but by this point Faye was feeling so grimy from the inability to wash up that she was half tempted to just go outside and scrub off with sand. She was reasonably sure that was how people did it in the desert.

At any rate, she had wallowed in grief for a while. Mourning for her past self… remorse for encouraging Ed to leave… and of course the sorrow that swept over her multiple times a day when she thought about Spike.

The heartache from each of these woes had not receded a bit. But she was starting to chafe at being left on her own. Having no mission, no job to do, no ability to assist with repairs and no money to throw at the problems to make them go away.

Jet had kindly ignored her since he first blew up on her for shooting up the interior of the ship. She hadn’t even minded - she was no fool, he had needed some way to vent the anger of Spike’s departure and demise. Besides, she’d been half-deaf at the time from firing a gun in such an enclosed space. So she’d let him rail at her and mumbled an apology when it seemed like he was winding down - the mere act of which threw him off so much that he’d simply gaped at her and then turned on his heel and left.

So he had been avoiding her ever since and she had been disinterested in entertaining company while so distraught and depressed. And now her eyes were sore from crying and her mind was kind of blank and she was ready for a distraction. Ready for something to focus on. A goal, perhaps. Anything to break up the monotony of these endless days of silence and anguish.

With a face no doubt ravaged by sadness, she gathered up a few necessary items and set herself up on the bridge to await Jet’s return from whatever shopping trip or bounty mission or just escape from here he’d been on.

The record player was scratching along soothingly by the time she heard his boots climbing up the ladder to her location. The tobacco she’d found underneath Spike’s mattress had been rolled up into a few pathetic looking cigarettes, no filters to be found. There was no booze - she’d guzzled that all away ten days ago.

There was just Faye, alone on the bridge.

There was just Jet, alone on the stairs as he hesitated about entering into her space.

“Well?” She called out to him then, sparking one of the harsh cigarettes. “We might be alone but we may as well be alone together.”

cold compress / infection / I don't feel so good (it comes and it goes like the strength in your bones)

He wondered how long she could have made it if he hadn't thought to check in on her.

Her casual and typically unannounced departures had made the others accustomed to not seeing her for days without feeling a shred of concern. He had tried to portray the same insouciance but there was something telling about the half-smirk Jet sometimes wore and the amused cackle that Ed made when she'd catch his eyes absentmindedly following Faye's movements on the ship.

Usually it was every man or woman or dog for themselves on the Bebop except whenever a top dollar bounty was in the mix. Everyone came and went at their own pace and without answering to anyone else since no one bothered to make inquiries anyway.

But the Brain Scratch incident was fresh in his mind. Seeing her sprawled insensate on the cold ground of the abandoned building, a precarious tower of defunct televisions looming large over her small form. It was odd seeing Faye so helpless, so completely vulnerable. It had made his skin prickle and had made him irritable when talking with the figure on the screens. Even hearing that she was merely asleep was no comfort since Londes confided to having killed the other bounty hunters in the room by putting them into a never ending slumber.

The relief he'd felt when she began to stir and then sat up as if nothing had happened... He couldn't keep the smile off his face. And her own timid smile in response, the bashful way her gaze had dipped away from his own... It made his heart skip a beat. She'd run hot and cold with him lately, ever since getting back from Callisto - or possibly before even?

Her skittish behavior had doused the flame of arousal he'd felt for her - the attraction he'd finally begun to feel like he was justified in feeling. The insatiable desire to find answers about Julia had been extinguished by the hard truths he'd come to accept after facing Vicious again, and he was just beginning to think that perhaps he could love again. Perhaps he was at last free to pursue someone else, someone more willing to stand at his side against the odds and who'd have his back in life-or-death situations. Giving in to the chemistry that had existed between Faye and himself since originally meeting her across the card table had felt like the first step in taking back control of his own future.

But while he had been ready to tentatively move forward... she apparently was taking two steps back.

Curiosity burned in his mind. What had happened to her on Callisto to change her flirtatious ways? What made her stop teasing him and start to regard him as just another lost soul on a ship of fools?

Here, now was a chance to find out her reasoning.

He replaced the damp washcloth on her forehead and adjusted the cold compress he was holding to the shallow slash across her right hip. It wasn't a deep cut, thankfully, though stitches and an antibiotic would have been a wise move days ago. Too late now to avoid an infection. Jet had come running when Spike had called out to him, alarmed, when he'd gone to bang on the shower room door after Faye had taken far more time than even she normally did.

Her skin had been flushed with color, her eyes shining with a feverish light, and her entire body quaked as she answered the door in her robe. Steam had billowed out from the room and at first he'd attributed the pinkness of her face to the heat and humidity of the bathroom, but then she'd stumbled backwards and he'd moved instinctively to catch her.

Faye had hissed in pain when he brushed against her hip. Had lain resignedly in his embrace as if the effort of trying to regain her own footing was beyond her.

In a small voice, one that reminded him strongly of the young Faye in the betamax video, she spoke... not to him, but to the world. A child's helpless plea.

"I don't feel so good."

And then she'd become dead weight in his arms as her eyes fluttered shut. And then Jet had been there in answer to Spike's shout of summons.

Together they'd trundled her out to the living room and had Ed fetch one of her pajama tank tops and shorts to dress her in since they couldn't protect her modesty and also treat her wound if she was just wearing a robe.

Jet had pronounced the wound clean but infected and had liberally applied a healing ointment designed to reduce scarring as well as inflammation before he carefully stitched her up and then told Spike to take her to her room. While he himself tended to spend his convalescence periods laid up on the couch, it seemed likely that Faye would prefer the calm and darkness of her sleeping space.

He had lain her down on top of the blankets since her skin was hot to the touch and he figured the cool air would help to soothe her fever. Then Ed had shown up at the door with the damp washcloth and cold compress, offering both to Spike without any of her usual nonsensical rhymes and cheer. Thanking her for the items, Spike told her not to worry because Faye would be okay. And Ed, after staring for a long minute at Faye's unconscious form on the bed, took in a deep breath and nodded, then flashed him a smile full of confidence in his words.

For a while Faye had been deeply unconscious and resting peacefully despite how her body radiated heat. All too soon, though, she began to thrash and mumble despite Spike's ministrations. Her babbling seesawed from random words that seemed disconnected from one another to entire rambling monologues that made him shiver. It was impossible to say whether her speeches were truth or fiction, but he hoped they stemmed from things she'd seen in movies rather than experienced personally in life. A growing sense of ill ease in the pit of his stomach proved how little he believed in his own hopes.

But on the other hand, he could question her about her change in attitude and possibly be rewarded with the logic or motivation behind it. If he wanted to take advantage of her defenselessness. To exploit her illness, even if she was too out of it to be aware of what was happening or to remember any of this... the idea did not sit well with him.

Faye whimpered, whipping her head back and forth on the sweat-soaked pillow, and tried to twist her body away from the gentle pressure of the compress.

"Shh, shh, you're okay... er, you'll be okay. Jet got you all stitched up. We got some antibiotics starting to work on ya. Just take it easy, Faye..." Spike tried to cajole her into relaxing with his softest, kindest voice.

Her brow pinched together in confusion as she struggled to open her eyes. "A stitch in time, no, a wrinkle in time." She mumbled. Her eyes gleamed as they caught the light of the betamax player - which, while not currently playing a tape was the only source of light Spike had bothered to maintain in the room. She eyed him without seeming to recognize him. "Strange dreams, turbulent things, what agony can waking bring?"

Spike didn't recognize the poetry - if that's what it was - of her words. "What's that now?"

"Smoothed out, out of time and place and luck." Sounding more like Ed than herself, it was obvious that, despite regaining a semblance of consciousness, Faye remained disoriented. Whatever she meant was incomprehensible to him.

Still, it was good to hear her voice. "You'd be surprised how lucky you are," He told her in response. "Hopefully we caught this infection in time. Jet thinks the salve will save you from a scar too."

"It comes and it goes," She murmured then. "Like the strength in your bones. What imbues a soul with courage? What inspires a heart to love? What jargon leaves lips when you speak from that little place inside your chest? Break open, break free."

Spike gave a sort of snorting sigh as he took the washcloth from the bed where it had been dislodged when she shook her head earlier. "Jargon indeed." He muttered as he dipped the cloth in the bowl of ice water and gave it a twist to get most of the water removed. He tenderly placed it back on her forehead with his left hand while using his right hand to hold her chin in place.

"Ohh, bliss." She said then, blinking as if to clear her sight. "Spike?"

"Yeah, Faye?"

"...are you real?"

He chuckled and pressed both hands to her cheeks as he leaned over her to stare down into her befuddled eyes.

"I'm as real as you."

"I... don't feel real right now." She admitted. "I feel... hazy... like if I close my eyes I could drift off forever."

Her words spooked him though he kept his reaction from showing on his face. "Let's avoid that, hey?" He knew it was just the fever talking, but then again people had died from fevers before. "You stay here with me, okay? And I'll stay here with you."

Trembling lips made a ghost of a smile before turning down into an expression of discomfort. "I'm so warm."

Spike could feel just how overheated she was through the heat of her cheeks beneath his palms. "You may not like this idea... but I think it's the only way to get your temperature down. Hold tight to me, okay? I'm gonna dump ya in the tub." He eased his arms under her shoulders and under her knees and hoisted her into his arms with only one outcry from Faye as her wounded hip was tweaked.

"I don't wanna drown," She whined as he brought her back to the shower room where he'd first discovered she was ailing.

Delirium was evidently setting back in.

"Not gonna drown you, Faye." He assured her. "Hell, I'll even climb in the damn tub with you if that'll make you feel better."

"Sailors at sea, drowning in an ocean of love..." She replied, laughing hysterically at her own words.

He sighed. "No one is gonna drown, Faye." But he was glad she was still awake, still talking even if it was ridiculous things.

We Will Rock You

Heeled boots and the quieter cadence of Spike’s shoes announced the arrival of Jet’s partners to the hangar where he was currently hanging halfway out of the innards of the Swordfish II. A new pod would be expensive but not nearly as costly as all the other repairs both zipcraft needed. Between the beating that they’d taken while Spike and Faye were at the restaurants - and really, how could the pair of them manage to get their ships that fucked up in such a tranquil environment? - and the narrow escape they’d managed from the abandoned Linus Mine, it was honestly a wonder that either of them made it back at all.

One thing was certain - his reckless partners kept him busier than the rest of their bounty hunting jobs ever could. At least this type of necessary chore was one that offered a strong feeling of accomplishment when all was said and done. In that way it was sort of like cooking. You threw together a bunch of ingredients and got a delicious meal out of it. Here he was throwing together various parts and in the end his partners would have space-worthy vehicles again.

The fragrant aroma of cigarette smoke reached his nose and he inhaled deeply. Faye rolled her own and liked to add other herbs. Spike opted for menthol whenever he had a choice in the matter. The scents mingled together in a way that Jet found very appealing.

Deciding he could take a break from his inspection of Spike’s ship, he hauled himself out of the shell where the pod would sit once a replacement was found and dropped slowly to the ground below. The gravity was significantly reduced at the moment to aid him in maneuvering around the broken down ships.

Spike had flicked a lit cigarette in his direction before Jet had even reached the deck but his reaction time had always been top notch and he caught it between two fingers of his right hand and brought it to his lips to take a much-deserved drag.

“You two come to give me a hand here?” He asked after a few more drags before sending the cigarette back to Spike to finish.

Faye gave him a coy look as she floated over. Biting her lower lip, spliff held off to the side in her right hand, she glanced over her shoulder at Spike before turning back to Jet.

“You could say that…” She allowed. Placing the spliff between her own lips but with the ember facing her throat, she leaned closer and brought her face directly to his so her mouth lined up with his own.

Startled, he inhaled automatically which had of course been her intent. He’d seen her offer shotgun hits to Spike a time or two before, whenever they were tangled up in each other on the couch. Apparently, nursing Spike back to health after he’d gone in, guns blazing, to save her life had noticeably altered the relationship between the pair of them. It was something Jet had ignored for the most part since it didn’t really conflict with his life at all. As long as they had their head in the game when it came to chasing bounties, that was all that mattered.

Her hands had somehow gotten behind his head and scratched at his cheeks and chops as she drew them back towards her own body and released him from the odd method of sharing smoke. Coughing was unavoidable but he at least managed to turn to avoid doing it in her face.

Faye was smirking when he looked back at her and then Spike was moving closer as well.

“We really owe you one for all the shit you’ve done to keep our ships in one piece,” Spike noted.

“Don’t worry,” Jet interrupted with a sharp grin, “the cost of repairs and replacement parts is all coming out of your shares of the next few bounties.”

Rolling her eyes, Faye moved to hover just off to Jet’s left side. She reached out to trail her hands along his artificial arm, seemingly fascinated by the cool metal beneath her fingertips. “Of course it is.” She acknowledged. “But… well, we thought you deserved a little something extra…”

Trying to watch her out of the corner of his eye, he almost didn’t notice how close Spike had gotten until the other man was able to place a hand on Jet’s chest. It had been months since Spike had been this forward with him - it had always been a random thing in the past and happened less often after Faye joined the crew and what with their recent liaison together Jet had assumed that the other man was getting all the satisfaction he needed from her these days.

His breath caught in his throat at the inviting look Spike was giving him.

“Hope you don’t mind…” Faye was saying then. “If we have some ideas of how to… express our gratitude for all you do…”

“I… uhh…”

Spike let his hand drop lower on Jet’s body. “You can say no anytime, of course. But if you’re game for it… we will rock your world.”

Partners In Crime

“Ehehehehehe…”

Spike didn’t want to give away the fact that he was conscious so he kept his eyes shut and strained his ears instead to try and ascertain what exactly was going on around him. The nefarious giggles of Edward were not the most promising thing to hear upon waking.

“What do you think, Ein?”

“Woof woof woof!”

“Hmm… yes Edward agrees!”

Something brushed against his cheek and Spike reacted instinctively as he grabbed where he judged Ed’s wrist to be. She squawked in surprise but was laughing by the time Spike opened his eyes to glare up at her suspiciously.

“Faye-Faye! Jet-person! Spike-person has come back to life!” She cheered.

“What… what were you doing to my face?” He demanded as he let go of her wrist and sat up on the couch. He didn’t remember going to sleep there. In fact, the last thing he remembered was… sending the fridge into space? But he’d failed at launching the blob monster into the cosmos… there had been a sharp agony when the thing bit him as it managed to stay on board.

“Edward was making you pretty. It was Ein’s idea.” She glanced down at the dog, Spike’s gaze naturally following her own, and Ein let his tongue loll out of his mouth in a doggy sort of grin.

Spike frowned. “This was your idea?” He still wasn’t entirely sure what ‘this’ even was but he had a pretty good guess. It didn’t matter though, there was a much more pressing concern to address. “Ed, that monster is on the loose still. We have to clear out the ship.”

But she was shaking her head. “Don’t worry! The containment crew already went through! No sign of any creepy crawlies! The doctors came and went too - everyone is finally back to good now that you’re up as well!”

Faye appeared above them, looking down from the landing that led to the bridge. Spike nearly did a double take at the comical amount of makeup covering her face. White was caked everywhere, her lips were painted bright red but spread well past her lips themselves, and there were lime green arches above her eyes that stretched all the way to her hairline.

She snickered. “You look like a whore.” She told him.

“Yeah? Well you look like a clown!” He retorted. How she hadn’t felt the goop all over her skin was beyond him - his face was itchy in several spots, places he was nearly positive Ed had coated makeup.

The round door slid open as Jet arrived, stepping through in his jumpsuit and stopping in his tracks as he took in the other two. He guffawed, shaking his head.

Faye snorted as her eyes shifted to the newcomer. “Why Jet, you’re pretty as a princess, aren’t you?”

“What’s that now?” He asked with a frown. There was no makeup on Jet’s face but Ed had tied little pink bows into the scruffy sideburns that the ex-cop sported.

“Ed put some ribbons in your hair,” Spike told him, taking pity on the other man’s confused countenance.

“Ein’s idea!” The young girl immediately protested. “We wanted to make the Bebop Bebop a happy place of beauty!”

Spike had initially been doubtful of Ein’s role in the nonsense that had taken place while they had all been unconscious, but as Faye descended to the lower level he could see a distinct pale blue pawprint on one of her cheeks. Another look down at Ein confirmed that there was makeup on both of his front paws.

“You better know where some makeup remover is, kid.” Spike told Ed as he got to his feet. “You’re definitely gonna need something stronger to get all that shit off your face,” he mentioned to Faye, who had still not noticed anything amiss on her own person.

“What are you…” Her hands touched her cheeks and came away with makeup liberally smeared on them. Faye’s jaw dropped open and her wide eyes shot over to Ed, who grinned but very wisely began backing up towards the hallway. “EDWARD!”

“Ehehehehe, wait wait! Ed needs to get the camera!” The hacker cried out as she scrambled to escape the angry charge of Faye across the room. Ein was hot on her heels, the partners in crime dashing along just ahead of the furious bounty hunter.

“DON’T YOU DARE!” Faye shrieked.

Spike glanced over at Jet, who was fingering the bows in his chops. “Faye said I look like a whore.”

Jet grunted and looked over at him. “Well… you don’t… yeah. Yeah, you do. But look at it this way… she must have used most of the makeup on Faye, there’s just color on your cheeks and your eyes and your lips. It could be worse. That eye stuff goes well with your coloring anyway.”

“Gee thanks.”

“No no, see, you could have a real career out there if you wanted… just think about it, if the bounties dry up, at least you’ll have a fallback plan!”

Spike glared at the other man. “There’s glitter in your beard too. Have fun with that.”

“Oh for crying out loud…”

I'm Not Okay (I Promise)

“Hey. You okay?”

Faye frowned at the metal beneath her. What kind of a stupid question was that? Her face was wet from tears. There were bullet holes in the ship from firing off her gun. Her ears were still ringing from that and a small part of her was grateful that nothing had ricocheted back at her.

“Fucking fine.” She muttered when it seemed like Jet was just going to loom over her until he got a response.

“Sure don’t seem like it.” He replied.

Faye snapped her head back to glare up at him. “Yeah? You think? No fucking shit! No, I’m not okay! Are you okay? Is Spike -” She cut herself off abruptly.

“No. I’m not okay.” Jet told her plainly. “To be frank, it’s likely we won’t be okay again. This ship is a goddamn ghost town and I’m beginning to think it’s more trouble than it’s worth to get it airborne again. Maybe he did us a favor by bringing their sights on us. Maybe they’ll come back to finish the job after he bites it.”

She gaped at him, horrified. “What the fuck, Jet?”

“Well? Should I be more optimistic? This place is a graveyard of dreams. It never got us anywhere good. It just let us live in limbo like some kind of purgatory between heaven and hell.”

“So what then? You just gonna leave it here to rust? Take your ship and leave me too?”

He huffed and then moved to slide down the wall and sit next to her. A bottle she hadn’t registered before appeared in his hands as an offering to her.

“No. No, of course not. This thing might be grounded for now but she’ll fly again. She’s the only home I have. I’m not just gonna abandon her because everyone else left. Ghosts aren’t great company but it’s still better than being alone.”

She wondered if he had ever truly been alone in life. Jet struck her as the type of person to always have someone around. Probably he wasn’t used to the idea of being solely on his own. It wasn’t a bad way to live, truly. But she was kind of tired of rhapsodizing solitude. It was a lonely type of life even if it meant you controlled every aspect of it.

“I’m not okay.” She reiterated quietly. “But… I promise I’m not gonna leave. Shit, I don’t have anywhere else to go either. So don’t go thinking it’s just ghosts that will haunt this place with you. I’ll be here too.” She took a pull on the bottle and then passed it back. “Anyway the kid and dog aren’t dead, you know. Hell, she’ll probably bring the ship crashing down to Earth the next time we’re in the vicinity. Don’t know what we’ll tell her about Spike but… well, what is there to say anyway.”

“It’s gonna be a while before the ship is ready to reach the stars again.” Jet told her then. “If nothing else, it’ll give us time to think of an answer for her inevitable questions.”

“Hell, maybe it’ll give that lunkhead ample time to make his way back here.” She dared to hope.

Jet shrugged and took a drink. “Either he lives or he dies… either they come to snuff us, or we get to kick around the galaxy for God only knows how many more years. Nothing is ever certain… all we can do is try to keep on keeping on I suppose.”

“It’s better than the alternative,” she offered. “Anyway I can’t imagine myself doing some other job to be honest. Can you see me at a customer service desk? Or waiting tables?” She laughed.

He gave her back the bottle and chuckled as well. “No, you’d assault someone for being a jerk and get fired the first day.”

“Bounty hunting it is then. At least working for myself means I’ll never lose this job.”

“Maybe working together we’ll even stand half a chance of saving cash someday.”

She snorted. “Working together? Fat chance. I’m gonna compete with you for each and every bounty we hear about. What’s the point if we’re not having fun?”

Jet sighed. “Shit, Faye. I thought life was gonna get easier with that trouble maker off the ship. You’re just looking to fill his shoes though aren’t you?”

She grinned wickedly. “Jet, c’mon now, you’ve known me for how long? I don’t need to fill anyone’s shoes - I’m trouble enough as it is on my own. He was the one trying to rival me if anything. Now are you gonna bust out some smokes or what? I’m all out and we both know even if he comes waltzing back in here he’s not gonna have shit on him.”

“All right but if you ransack his room later and find a carton you’d better split that with me.”

“Hmm. I’ll think about it.”

Suit And Tie

It was rumpled. It was faded. It was often bloodstained, torn, covered in cigarette ash…

But it was a suit. Dark blue pants and jacket, paired with a yellow button-up shirt, and a black tie, it was at once semi-professional and also casual as all hell. The professional aspect wasn’t at all helped by the way Spike preferred to roll up the sleeves to leave his forearms bare. Or the way he never kept the tie snugged to his throat properly.

It was an indication of the complexity of the man who wore it. A man to be respected at first glance. It could be worn in higher-end establishments with only a fraction of clientele vexed by the inferiority of the cloth and the general condition it was in. It could be worn in the slums with only the most foolhardy footpads likely to assume the wearer had any sort of financial status worth accosting. It let him blend into the business section of cities with ease.

Certainly it was less distracting than Faye’s attire, and more commonplace than Jet’s jumpsuit.

The jacket was nice because he could use it for a pillow if he wadded it up. It could be a blanket to cover up a wet and shivering dog. It could be draped around a hacker child on a chilly ship.

The tie was nice because it could be turned into a weapon or a restraint depending on what he might need in a dangerous moment. Handcuffs weren’t always available and rope was never around when you needed it. And while it wasn’t quite as effective as piano wire, it could nonetheless strangle an opponent if need be.

All in all, it was the perfect garb for someone as semi-professional yet laid back as Spike Spiegel. It hinted at how well he could clean up, it permitted him to play a number of roles to the unassuming onlookers, and he knew it made people give him a second look sometimes. Folk who were turned on by someone in a suit, that is.

What a delight it had been to realize that Faye was one of the people affected by a sharp dressed man. These days he took special pleasure in teasing her by rolling up his sleeves, slowly… by unbuttoning his shirt, slowly… by drawing his tie off, slowly… the timing was a critical part of the enticement.

But as much fun as that was… and as good as he knew he looked in his suit and tie…

She sure pulled off his outfit well - and knew exactly how to best use that tie (and her suspenders for that matter…)

Dried and Cracked

Compulsively, she licked her lips, hating that she was unable to stop herself from doing so. They were chapped, dried and cracked, and the moisture transferred by her tongue from her mouth was only making the problem worse.

The wind blew fiercely, water droplets turning to ice pellets as the temperature dropped and night descended on the cold, cold moon. Her jacket did a poor job of keeping her warmth contained to her core and upper limbs, but it was still better than her bare legs that were being repeatedly stung by the precipitation swirling around.

She had thought that the alley would provide more cover but it seemed just the opposite as brutal blasts of wind tore through the narrow space. There were a few resigned individuals sheltering against the walls in clumps of twos and threes, huddling together for shared heat and making the most of whatever scraps of fabric they had to their name. Not a one paid her any attention - and why would they? She had nothing to offer them, no way to ease the chill of the oncoming night. She was just another lost soul drifting along the depressing corridor of Callisto’s biggest city.

Why had she come back here? Why torture herself so?

She was chasing after a ghost.

If she only listened harder, disregarding the howl of the wind and ignoring the steady thump-thump of her own heartbeat, would she catch a haunting refrain from a lone saxophone?

In retrospect it was madness. Gren was gone - Spike had confirmed that. And what insight could he have offered her anyway? He had seen right through her insecurities, had offered up truths about himself that she was unwilling to admit understanding… so what more could he have done for her if he were still alive?

In the end he went off to find answers from Vicious, knowing he was going to his death. Taking her in, helping her, then abandoning her just like Whitney. Well, not exactly like Whitney, that fucking ass. She supposed Gren paralleled Spike more since Spike had also taken off to face down Vicious, swaggering off to court death one final time.

And she was left to pick up the pieces of herself. In the aftermath there were always pieces missing. Shards of herself she could never reclaim. Fragments that died with the people she'd lost. You always lose part of yourself when you lose someone else. Inside jokes, being witness to their fears or fury, even just the simple fact that there would never be interactions with anyone else that would be quite the same.

Her heart was missing entire chunks. A red haired feral child had absconded with a good portion of it, her and the damn dog. There had been sections she couldn't even access until recently and now that her memory had returned it merely meant acknowledging the deeper pain of names and faces and shared experiences all forever beyond reach. And then Spike had nearly broken the remainder when he waltzed off after her confession. What was even the point in admitting she needed him if he wasn't gonna stick around?

Part of her wanted to just sit down and let the cold win. Lie down and let snow blanket her… slow the blood pumping through her body… let her mind drift away…

She licked her lips again as she paused under a flickering streetlight and looked up and down the road. A hint of iron on her tongue. Fuck, her lips were so painfully chapped.

A muffled noise sounded from the pocket of her pilfered jacket - she'd never given it back to Spike and now she never could. Dead men didn't need coats so she refused to feel guilty about it.

Sighing, Faye reached in and withdrew the comm.

"What?" She snapped, sniffling. Her nose was starting to run, great.

"Bounty is on the move. You in position?"

She glanced around, no street sign in evidence anywhere. "Uhh…"

"Never mind. You sound stuffy. Why don't you head back to the ship? I can handle this guy on my own."

Closing her eyes, she struggled to keep from making a troubled face even though she hadn't activated the visual end of her signal so there was no chance Jet could see anyway.

"Jeeeeeeet," she whined. "You already got me out here freezing my ass off. I'll keep my eye open for him, I think I'm in the right spot."

A short pause on his end and then, "...all right. If you make it back before me, there's a crockpot of hot chocolate in the kitchen."

Appreciation bubbled up in her chest, warming her. She inhaled, icy air burning her lungs, and let it out slowly.

"...thanks." It was easier, now that she had full recollection of who she had been before the accident, to be honest with others. Grateful, vulnerable, kind. It still seemed to baffle Jet but he was gradually getting used to the new Faye, but frankly the same was true for her as well.

Perhaps you were right about idolizing camaraderie, Gren. It's terrifying to trust in others… but there are occasions where it seems worth the risk, I suppose.

Movement down the road drew her attention and distracted her from her thoughts. Time to get this show on the road…

Wings

He wasn’t expecting the wings.

Frankly he wasn’t expecting much of anything.

Infinite blackness perhaps. Pure nothingness. Maybe the fires of Hell if he was being whimsical.

But there were definitely wings spreading out from his shoulders where his arms ought to be. Not white wings of an angel, nor black wings of a devil… wings that shimmered in a million rainbow colors as if each feather were a prism with the light of the sun bleeding through.

He was out in the stars, no space suit to speak of. There was no temperature, no wind, no sound whatsoever. It was really quite peaceful.

It was just him, wings holding him aloft despite the absence of gravity. Just him and the stars stretching from here to who knew.

He ought to be curious. There were thousands of questions dancing about in the back of his mind but he couldn’t bring himself to truthfully care about the hows and the whys and the what next.

This was nice.

He hadn’t been so free in ages. He wanted to indulge in this feeling for a little while longer.

Eventually he’d grow bored and need to pursue some sort of explanation. Perhaps establish a goal of some type. But he figured there was plenty of time for that later. Maybe eternity even.

For now he was just going to be.

Just a man and his wings adrift in space and time.

We Close Our Eyes

When we close our eyes to the things we do not wish to acknowledge, we close our eyes to more than just those things. We close our eyes to our own chance to grow. We close our eyes to the chance to change our minds. We close our eyes to a potential future path and thereby restrict ourselves from living a life we could have never imagined.

When we close our eyes we deny ourselves possibility. We do ourselves an injustice. We trap ourselves in the only reality we allow ourselves to perceive.

Spike had closed his eyes to the idea of any sort of happily ever after when he was left to flee Tharsis in the rain and alone. He claimed to see past in one eye and present in another, a poetic way to miss out on the fact that the future was not in his cards.

Jet had closed his eyes to the uncertainty and unhappiness that Alisa was plagued with in their life together. He could not see the problem and was therefore blindsided when she left.

Faye had closed her eyes to the existence of a whole self if she did not possess the memories of another place in time. She tripped herself up from embracing all that she could experience and enjoy within this world as who she awoke as.

Ed lived with eyes wide open. She wanted to see it all, do it all, go everywhere and meet everyone. She chose to crash ships into her life, to traipse amongst the stars, to follow strangers.

Ein, clever as he was, was also just a dog. His life was within his own control to as much of a degree as he ever really needed or desired. He didn't close his eyes to anything but he preferred to follow his nose. Food was life, after all, and what was life without food?

Afterglow

She was startled when he reached out to clasp her hand as she regretfully climbed out of bed, leaving the comfort of the tangled sheets to stand in the chilly air of the room. He held it loosely, giving her the ability to pull free if she so desired and, despite countless misgivings conjured by her heart and mind… she did not desire to do so. Her eyes flickered down to their joined hands before seeking out his mismatched gaze in the dim lighting of his spartan bedroom.

“Leaving so soon? What’s your hurry?” He asked quietly, eyes searching hers.

How to explain her thoughts? Her assumptions? …would he understand? Would he care? Did she even want to bare herself to him like that?

Perhaps a silly thought to have while standing literally naked after working up quite a sweat with this no longer haunted man. How curious that he somehow managed to be less jaded than she was… that he was so much more open since closing the book on his past, whereas her own newly awakened memories had somehow made her more guarded and more hesitant.

“I… figured you’d want me out of your space once all was said and done,” she replied at last. True enough. Blame it on him, don’t admit your own need to escape. The passion of their tryst had been far too tender, far too intimate. The concept of basking in the afterglow at his side was frankly terrifying given how very badly she wanted to do just that. She had been desperate to get him naked and on top of her not so long ago and now she was desperate to flee… to use distance as a protection against the threat posed to her heart by what they’d just done together.

“Ah… so, you’re under the impression that all is said and done?” He smiled at her roguishly. “I suppose you can cut and run if you must. Myself, I haven’t nearly had my fill of you.” He kept staring at her, making her flush under the intensity of his gaze.

She chuckled nervously. “If you think I’ve got the energy for another round after that… well, I hate to let you down but…” Trailing off, she shrugged apologetically before fixing her gaze on the floor to avoid his eyes.

He threaded his fingers through hers and gave a gentle tug to coax her back to the mattress and the warmth radiating from his nude body. Biting her lower lip, she let herself be pulled to the edge of the bed where he sat. Spike released her so he could instead settle his left hand familiarly on her hip and brought his right hand up to cradle her face, encouraging her to bring her eyes back to his.

“You misunderstand my intent,” he uttered solemnly. “While I could summon the energy to take you again right now if you were willing and able,” and here he flashed her a wicked grin before softening it into a genuine smile, “I was actually… hoping to get some rest and then waking you up slowly… kissing up and down every inch of your skin… teasing you back to consciousness with teeth and tongue and questing fingers…”

Her breath caught. She broke their gaze to turn her head, nuzzling against his palm as she moved to put one knee on the mattress and then follow with the rest of her body. Forcing herself to push past her own anxiety over what she was doing, she draped herself over him like a blanket and marveled briefly at the power of his abdominal muscles as he eased them both into a full recline.

“You know…” She murmured against his chest, pressing her lips to his skin as she spoke, “if you wanted to cuddle, you just had to say so.” A brief tug at his nipple to make him gasp before she rearranged herself to lay with her back to him so he could spoon up behind her.

“Faye, I want to cuddle.” He stated plainly and without a hint of shame. She could hear the smile in his voice and privately delighted in his playful mood. He nipped at the nape of her neck before continuing to speak. “But I also want to wake you up screaming my name.”

His words provoked a shiver she couldn’t hide. “Mmm… looking forward to it. Been a while since I’ve had a chance to wake up in a good mood.”

“Oh trust me, Valentine, I can put you in a good mood for days.”

Trust was not something she was able to extend readily… trusting him to have her back on a bounty mission was entirely different from entrusting him with something as precious as her heart. But it seemed like he was interested in more than just a casual fling or occasional hookup… wanting to lay together in the aftermath, heartbeats returning to normal and heaving chests changing into the soft rise and fall breathing of sleep, sharing a narrow sleeping space despite being done with the lust-filled task they’d toppled onto the bed to attend to in the first place… it spoke of a man who was not afraid to get caught up in something serious.

She had been attracted to him since their first meeting… had flirted with him with impunity for months afterward… had given his heart up for lost after learning about Julia, deciding then and there to keep her own heart out of the picture. But he had come back to the ship, come back to her… had lured her to this tipping point from which there was no turning back…

“I suppose… I can give you the chance to earn that trust.” She whispered at length. If he could keep her alive in a firefight then the odds of him not breaking her heart seemed decent. The bruising it had suffered before hadn’t been due to anything intentional or controllable on his part, it had been her own foolishness. If anything though, the tenacity with which he had pursued the angelic devil of his past was reassuring, though it had galled at the time. It convinced her that his affection towards her now meant that he not only cared but that that caring went deep.

The way he wrapped around her, arms hugging her to himself… the way he buried his face into her hair… the involuntary twitch of his manhood against her ass as she shifted to press more firmly against him… it all soothed her unvoiced concerns.

She brought her hands up to cover his where they lay over her bare skin, tangling her fingers with his and wordlessly anchoring her heart to his as well.

vows / restraints / don't move (see the chains around my feet)

Ed shuffled her feet nervously, vowing to listen to Jet in the future when he said not to take things into her own hands.

The chains around her feet were an effective restraint, much like the manacles that held her arms bound just above her head. As someone who had never so much as enjoyed trapping her toes inside shoes, this was torturous in and of itself. She was like a bird in a cage, except there was a gag around her mouth so she couldn't even sing.

She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and felt a rush of relief as she saw Faye-Faye stir where she'd been similarly trussed up.

When the other woman had failed to check in, Ed had gotten worried. She'd been back on the Bebop for only a week or two now and things there were still getting back to what she was used to before. Jet hobbled about the ship attending to the endless repairs needed to get it space worthy again while Spike remained incapacitated on the couch. That meant it was up to Ed to be the backup Faye clearly needed against this bounty head. She'd left Ein watching over Spike and had made off with the Swordfish II before Jet could realize she was up to something. He'd been convinced that Faye was fine and just being her usual unreliable self. Had forbidden Ed from going after her.

But Ed had known something was wrong. She'd come back to the Bebop originally because she had realized, after scouring the Earth for weeks looking for her father, that she preferred being someplace where people had your back. Where someone remembered to set out a plate for you for dinner. Where they looked after one another. And that meant she couldn't simply sit and wait for Faye to save herself - she had to act!

Getting caught by the extortioner hadn't been part of her plan though. The chains were cold and heavy against her ankles and the manacles were digging into the sensitive skin of her wrists. She had tried and tried to pull her hands through the metal circles but had only succeeded in making her forearms slick with blood leaking from the abrasions. Escaping handcuffs was more difficult than the videos she'd watched had led her to believe.

"Don't move." Faye's voice rang out clearly. She'd obviously woken all the way up and had realized they were alone in the damp basement of the abandoned house. The gag that had been around her mouth had been worked down until it was under her chin.

"Ed can almost break free!" She insisted, wincing as she tried to contort her hands again. Her gag had ensured that her words were muffled probably beyond understanding but Faye was smart and could see what Ed was up to.

The other woman sighed. "Ed. You're hurting yourself. Hold still, would you? Let me just..." There was an odd sound and then Faye's arms dropped down from the cuffs they'd been locked in. "Give me a minute to get these chains off my feet and then I'll come get you loose."

Ed felt a rush of pride at her companion's abilities and relief that she could stop straining her arms in her attempt to break free. It wasn't even embarrassing to have to be saved, not when she was learning something from her mistakes!

Once Faye had gotten the chains off and moved over to Ed, lowering her gag first, she set to make quick work of the restraints.

"Faye-Faye, you've saved the day! Ed came to rescue you! Will you teach Ed how to bust free? Videos didn't help! Please, please?"

Faye bared her teeth at Ed in a fierce grin. "You bet I will, Ed." The older woman vowed. "There's no way I want you stuck in a situation like this on your own, unable to do anything for yourself except scar up your arms. Now, will you stay down here while I go check if the upstairs is clear or should I assume you're gonna be right on my heels?"

"Ed wants to help! This guy had cuffs that fit my tiny wrists - that means he's held kids hostage before as blackmail. Ed is not about to let him roam free!"

Faye sighed. "Well, okay then but you need to stay out of my way, all right? Stay behind me and cover my back. Let me handle all the hard hitting." She glanced around at the space they were in. "C'mon, I'm gonna kick out those pipes over there. We need some weapons and I think those will do just fine..."

glass shard / vehicular accident / watch out! (they never saw us coming, ‘til they hit the floor)

"WATCH OUT!" Faye's exclamation came at the precise moment that Spike himself noticed the dangerous way the vehicle they were tailing began to swerve on the pavement. Cursing the inability of the other driver to maintain control, though even Spike had found it a challenge that actually required both hands on the wheel, he tried to avoid the brick wall of the buildings and shoot past the van with the blacked out windows before it could crash as it was clearly about to.

Unfortunately, he was only able to achieve half of that goal. They'd narrowly streaked past the two-story structure but the van careened madly over into their space to knock against the rear passenger tire just as Faye was able to wrangle Spike's seatbelt into position across his chest and lap. He heard the snap of her own seatbelt locking into place as the angle of the impact threw the vehicle they were driving into a roll.

Glass shattered as every window conceded defeat to the ground whenever it was their turn to meet. Over and over again they rolled as the momentum of their speeding vehicle slowed with each smash and flip. The noise was thunderous. There was nothing to do except wait for the world to stop violently spinning. Side airbags deployed almost as an afterthought as their jeep finally heaved itself to a stop. It took several moments for Spike to realize that they weren't upside down.

His seatbelt was cutting into his shoulder as he tried to turn to take stock of the situation and his passenger. Irritably, he managed to scrabble at the button until it released him from the prison it had become after likely saving his life. There was no telling what would have happened if Faye hadn't thought to strap him in, but it seemed likely that he would have been forcibly ejected from the vehicle at some point during its prolonged tumble.

Faye's hair was in disarray and glittered with glass shards. She had shards all over her face like crystalline freckles and some drops of blood were seeping out of a few spots where larger pieces must have scraped past in the tumult. Her eyes with narrowed in fury as she yanked ruthlessly on her own seatbelt until Spike reached over to cover her hands with his own.

"Hey, hey, hold on! I'll get you out," he assured her.

"I'm gonna fucking kill them," she snarled. "I don't even care about collecting their bounty anymore! OUCH!"

"Stop thrashing around!" He ordered. "If you broke anything, you'll just make it worse doing that!"

Her hands fell away from the seatbelt, relinquishing control of the situation to him, and skimmed across her still-flat stomach uneasily. Spike gritted his teeth to keep from gulping and making her nervous. Abruptly he remembered there was a knife stashed in one of her boots and he strained to rummage around by her legs until he recovered it and brought it back up to hack away at the material of the elastic restraint. It didn't give up easily, which was probably a sign of a quality product but also could have been lethal if they'd been trapped in a submerged vehicle.

Free at last, Faye twisted to scramble out of the vehicle only to discover her door was jammed shut. Spike hastily attempted his own, failed to open it, and vaulted through the broken-out window to hurry over to her side and lay down his jacket on the gaping space of her own shattered out window. Carefully, he helped haul her up and out of the wreckage. Faye was trembling by the time he got her to her feet outside, though whether it was from the adrenaline still coursing through her body or the rage that she very obviously felt, Spike couldn't tell. He looked around at the trail of debris from where their vehicle had traveled from the crash to here, and then spotted the van on its side a few yards further back. The front end was crumpled and smoke was pouring out from under the hood. One person had been launched out of the windshield and was lying very still, but the other bank robber was hanging half out the driver's side door which was ajar.

Turning back to Faye when he heard her retching, he moved to her side in concern but she waved him off weakly.

"M'fine, go cuff that asshole. Maybe grab one of those money bags too, hey? There's enough loose in the wind that a little extra missing won't draw any questions." She remarked, wiping her mouth with a shaky hand.

There was indeed quite a lot of the money the robbers had stolen billowing out of the back doors of the van. Faye's idea seemed like a good one to Spike, provided he could manage to be quick about it. He didn't know enough about cars to be sure this one wouldn't blow up with the way parts seemed to be on fire. Still, he opted to handle the bounty first.

The woman blinked in confusion as Spike yanked her roughly out of the van. "They never saw us coming," she mumbled, "until they hit the floor. We made it painless as possible, you see? The banks are the cruel ones... bleeding us to death with overdraft fees and late fees and so many bullshit charges... we just... wanted to get back what's ours."

Spike snorted. "That's the fourth bank you hit up this week. Somehow I don't think the judge is gonna be convinced you're the victim here, especially since you've been racking up murder charges left and right. You're just lucky I don't let my partner handle your fate."

"Buncha bootlickers... the system is designed to keep us all down, you fool! And here you are, doing the dirty work for the cops..."

Hauling her over to the side of the street, Spike looked down at her with disdain. "Lady, we ain't doing shit for the cops. We're doing what needs doing to get ourselves paid so we can eat. Fuck the police, and fuck you for nearly getting us killed."

shadows / stalking / who's there? (it’s gonna get me by the end of the night)

The shadows were full of danger. She didn't trust dark places during the day, let alone in the middle of the night. But what could she do? That card game had ended badly and tempers flared... it was a "get out or get fucked" type of situation and Faye wasn't about to get boned by those thuggish brutes who thought they could win against Poker Alice.

So she'd done a flip'n'dip. Flip the table, shoot out the lights, dip out one of the exits she'd taken note of before the night even began.

In the commotion, she didn't think anyone had realized she fled... but there was a creeping sensation along her spine now that she recognized as the fear of prey being stalked. She kept sneaking glances over her shoulder whenever she had a chance but there was never anyone visible. She refused to stop and turn around, she had to keep moving if she wanted to stay ahead of whoever was following her.

It's gonna get me. It's gonna get me. I'll never make it through the night... dawn is hours away still and it's gonna get me by the end of the night.

Her thoughts were full of terror and certainty. She hadn't been trailed like this since the second week of her revival. At least that mugger had been too bulky to hide in the alley he followed her into, and his steps had landed so heavily it had been easy to judge where he was behind her and to surprise him with her attack when she reached a dead end.

So far she hadn't taken any alleys since the beginning of her flight from the illegal poker game. She had tried to keep to streets with working lights and some amount of late night activity, but she still had the horrible feeling that tonight would be her literal dead end.

A clatter arose behind her and, despite knowing better, Faye froze.

Gritting her teeth in dismay, she whipped around. "Who's there?!"

Silence, full of foreboding, answered her. And then, with a yowl, a creature streaked by chasing after an even smaller animal that was squeaking in abject terror.

Unsettled by the cat and mouse, Faye took a deep breath and - giving a last suspicious glance around - started to hustle down the street again. She was coming up on a night market and knew she would feel better if she could just make it to that populated area. Even if she was being followed, she would at least be surrounded by witnesses once she reached those stands. She was going to make it, dammit. She was not gonna be anyone's mouse tonight, no no, if anything she would be the cat. Surely there were some rubes in that crowd... if she could just sink her claws into a good one...

goodbye note / neglect / I thought they were with you (I’ve got a head full of chemicals, mouth full of ridicule)

"What the hell is this?" Faye demanded of no one.

Jet was gone - he'd left hours ago without telling her what he was up to but the determination in his expression had made her hopeful that he was going after Spike. Then again, he could just be on the hunt for parts to repair the ship for all she knew. He had been so angry in their last exchange... well, it was a front anyway and he let it collapse by the time their conversation had ended. Spike made everyone hotheaded it seemed, while discussion of Julia was a much cooler topic. Perhaps that was because they had no skin in her game. Except Spike himself.

Was he dead? Was he hurt? Did he need her to come rescue him again?

She'd do it in a heartbeat. How much trouble could it be to navigate without the right thruster? She'd managed well enough in the dog fight, after all.

Where was anyone? What the hell had happened since she left them on Earth?

The smiley face grinning up from the flight deck had caught her eye but slipped her mind in the wake of her uncomfortable need to relay Julia's message and then in her haste to defend the ship. She'd assumed Ed was just being goofy... standing up on the bridge of the downed ship, able to at last truly take in not just the cheerful image but the loathsome words scrawled out as well... 

Faye was midway through chainsmoking her entire pack of cigarettes by the time Jet returned. She'd found a dusty bottle hidden behind the fridge as well - at some point Spike had obviously restocked his secret stash, or else Doohan had never actually collected on the liquor. Either way, it was Faye's now. Despite having drained a significant portion of the contents, she felt frustratingly clearheaded yet still depressingly confused about what she'd missed in her absence. The lack of life on the ship was impossible to ignore... no clicking of keyboard keys, no nonsensical rhymes being sung, no dog farts or nails scratching on the metal floor, no youth to remind the others of innocence and optimism, no animal to inspire them to be responsible caretakers of another living soul.

She waited for Jet to hobble over to her position, standing vigil by a message that broke her heart, before gesturing angrily at the red paint of the goodbye note.

"What the fuck is this? I thought they were with you."

Jet scowled at her and grabbed at the bottle. Since it hadn't served to get her drunk, she let his hand close around the neck of it and take it for himself to chug.

The amount he put away on his first drink was concerning. Had he gone after Spike? Had he... found Spike?

"She left. Think the dog went at the same time. Back on Earth, back when you bailed on us too. Went chasing after her father, I assume. Asinine thing to do considering the guy could have criminal charges against him just for neglect." He took another swig and then sighed heavily.

Faye's mind was spinning. A sudden spasm of guilt seized her heart. Was this... could Ed have.... she'd been in such a manic state after her memories came back in a landslide that left her reeling. There was a vague recollection saying something to Ed... her emotions had been all over the place, her thought process focused on one goal - the goal that had driven her since waking up in this lonely future. There had been a flame of hope flickering to life within her, a desperate longing for the place she finally remembered as home - somewhere to belong, and people who cared about her. For real cared about her, not just put up with her. 

She was a fucking fool. She'd gotten herself so excited, had believed things were finally going to fall into proper place... she'd even inspired Ed to make moves of her own. It was all her fault the girl was gone. The Bebop had been a shelter for them both, had been a place where they were fed and given places to sleep and made to feel welcome. She'd thrown it all aside in a mad bid for a reality that did not exist. And she'd convinced Ed to try her luck at... at what? Tracking down some asshole who couldn't care for her like Jet did? For some jerk who didn't look out for her like Spike did? For the ludicrous words of a woman who had no right to say a damn thing, no authority to encourage such a wild departure from a stable life - even one so dangerous and destitute as the one they led here had still had more to offer than aimlessly roaming a barren countryside constantly at risk of lunar debris crashing down.

She nearly choked as she hit the filter on her latest cig. Spitting it out, she hurriedly lit another one and then, in a rare show of generosity that should have indicated to him the remorse she felt, offered one to Jet as well.

A head full of chemicals, a mouth full of ridicule... she didn't trust herself to speak.

They stood in silence, smoking and drinking, watching as the sun set on another brutal day of heartbreak and the eternal struggle to keep going.

She didn't know where Ed and Ein were. Couldn't bring herself to ask Jet if he'd found Spike.

There was an kernel of something positive in the lack of knowledge... in the chance that the ones missing were miraculously doing okay.

storm / buried alive / they're not breathing! (you’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave)

Panic choked him as he reached the spot where the snow had finally stopped moving. There was no sign of Faye. But he'd gone over the safety guidelines of skiing with her over and over again, including the section on what to do if you get caught up in an avalanche, so he trusted that she'd tried to swim to the edge as the snow carried her with it downhill. He'd been so close... he had seen that there were no trees or rocks for her to attempt to cling onto to avoid being buried alive... but on the other hand, that meant there hadn't been immovable objects for her to slam into while the momentum of the snow swept her along.

Her scream echoed in his ears and he chastened himself repeatedly as he dug into the settling snow. He'd lost his glove at some point but it didn't matter in the least. He'd give up his good arm just to save her if that's what it took. He couldn't even feel the cold anymore as his body began to burn from the exertion of trying to sift through the endless white in search of the bright magenta of her space suit, or the dark splash of her purplish hair. No doubt the cap she'd filched from the ski lodge gift shop was long gone in the tumble she'd just undergone.

What felt like hours later, he swiped against something that didn't feel like snow. Hope surged in his chest and nearly blinded him from being able to see that he had indeed uncovered a portion of one of her boots, thankfully still attached snugly to her shapely leg. Acting fast, he gently but relentlessly scooped handful after handful of snow away from her body until enough of her was revealed that he felt comfortable trying to pull her loose of her icy prison.

Fuck, he'd never hear the end of it after this. He knew how much she hated cold. Knew how depressing she found Callisto to be. Yet she'd been willing to entertain him when he had the wild idea of encouraging her to embrace both things. He'd foolishly thought that if he could give her some good memories, take her on an adventure that would let them cozy up in front of a fireplace while watching a snowstorm rage outside of floor-to-ceiling windows in their own private lodge... the plan had merit, but it had backfired in the worst way with this unforeseen event.

His excitement over discovering her was washed away abruptly as he realized she wasn't breathing.

No.

NO.

Before desolation could set in, before he'd dare give up on her, his body automatically began to go through the motions of CPR. It had been ages since he'd had to put the life saving skills of an ISSP officer to use, but he moved instinctively now as if he was back in the training room and earning top marks from the med tech in charge of educating them. This was so much more important than a passing grade. This was Faye - the woman who'd weaseled aboard his ship and weaseled her way into his heart. She'd been through so much... but she was a fighter! She'd fought to survive for years, fought to prove she cared about him for months in the wake of Spike's death, fought against her own uncertainties and fears to join him here for a vacation that should have let them relax and just be together.

"Dammit, Faye!" He shouted. Shouting at her, at the cloudy heavens above. "You're not delivering a perfect body to the grave! You're supposed to grow old with me! Don't you dare give up now! BREATHE, dammit!"

Snowflakes began making their peaceful way down to the moon's frozen surface. Aside from the thump of his fists against her chest, there was no sound. Her lips underneath his were icy and nonresponsive. That wasn't the way it was supposed to be. She was always lighting him on fire. Always kissing him with such burning passion that he couldn't ignore or disbelieve her when she vowed to love him, when she promised to stay.

"You promised, Faye!" He sobbed. "You promised me you'd stay..."

And then, just when he'd sat back on his heels... ready to give up after no doubt breaking a rib or two of hers in the painful process of trying to restart her heart...

A weak cough. A ragged inhale. The softest moan he'd ever heard from her - her sounds in the bedroom were never quiet, after all - and suddenly she was tiredly blinking her eyes open. Wetness trailed from those gorgeous green irises as she tried to shift to look over at him but he couldn't let her move - he had to wrap her tenderly in his arms, crushing her to himself as he bowed his head over her shoulder and buried his face in the snow-damp tendrils of her beautiful hair.

"Hey... easy... there... cowboy," She murmured. "I... may not... be made... of glass... but I feel... fucking shattered."

"Don't you ever scare me like that again!" He ordered, easing his hug up just a touch. Belatedly, he thought to worry about other injuries she might have sustained in the descent. "Are you okay? No broken bones? Your skis are long gone I'm afraid. Hat too, love."

"Uhhh... I think... everything seems... intact. Fuck those... skis anyway... will you... carry me back? I... wanna just... curl up with you... watch this snow..." She chuckled, a sound threaded through with pain. "It looks... like it might... storm soon. Let's... get someplace warm. Wait... it out... together."

He inhaled sharply. "I don't know how you read my mind so well."

Another half-laugh, half-groan. "Same way... I fleeced you... all those years ago. You're just... an easy mark."

"Spike told me about your little dice trick." Jet told her then, carefully moving to stand with her in a bridal carry in his arms. The good one ached from the shoveling he'd done, but the metal one was solid underneath her fine form. He was grateful for that - a bit of insurance to see to it he was able to bring her somewhere safe.

"That... jerk.  Giving away... all my secrets!" She huffed. Her eyes glittered at him with amusement and adoration. "Rematch, love? No tricks... this time..." Her smile was devious despite her assurance.

"Okay, Faye. But when I win... don't think I'll be renting your clothes back to you. And... maybe I'll run around the ship naked with ya."

seeing double / working to exhaustion / you look awful (sometimes I get so tired, I don’t even know myself)

Jet blinked and peered blearily at the screen that was dancing in front of his eyes. It was difficult to make out the text or the image simply because he was seeing double. He was exhausted, no, he was well beyond exhausted.

But he couldn't go home to sleep.

Home was empty.

Reminders of the life he'd once shared with Alisa surrounded him there. Memories they'd made in the tiny apartment by the sea. Hell, the place still smelled like her favorite perfume and the kitchen had a zing of the spice he'd put on the last dinner that he'd made for her before she up and disappeared.

Well, that wasn't precisely true. She hadn't vanished... she'd left.

And despite his connections, despite his sleuthing skills, he refused to track her down. What good would it do to hound her? If you love something, you have to let it go, right? It'll come back on its own if it wants to. Stalking someone you proclaim affection for... that would be the antithesis of love.

Besides, he'd made a deal with himself. Had left a window of opportunity wide open for her to return. The pocket watch ticking away in his pocket was the reassuring reminder of that.

Tick, tick, tick...

He jerked abruptly as his chin hit his chest. Working himself to exhaustion wasn't exactly the best course of action in the aftermath of a breakup but at least it gave him something to focus on. Maybe he'd been too focused on the job to begin with? Was that why she left? A moot point now if so... besides, he was getting so close with this case. Corner a few more rats, hear a few more confessions, and he thought he might just have the answer he was looking for.

Europa had a huge problem with syndicates. It was the type of problem that bled over into nearby moons and sure enough it had begun to rear its diabolical head here on Ganymede in the past few years. Of course it had, the moons were all in varying states of depression or recession or population loss in the wake of the Titan War. And still there were murmurings that another war seemed inevitable.

He idly wondered if Ganymede might be smart enough to stay out of it this time. Was there even a choice?

He was just a cop, though. If the military wanted to go cause a ruckus elsewhere in the galaxy... well, good for them. Or, fuck 'em. It didn't matter a whit to Jet.

If the war was brought here to his doorstep, that was another story. So the potential war? Not his concern. The strengthening syndicate presence here on Ganymede took priority. There'd been an influx of drugs and criminals. Suddenly people were getting nervous about being out at night. There were neighborhoods that were no longer full of happy families but instead were full of abandoned houses and illegal activities.

Investigating one of the docks was actually the goal for the evening. Even if nothing panned out from this, it felt good to have a purpose.

A Styrofoam cup bearing steaming coffee was sat down on his desk, a few drops sloshing over onto Fad's hand before he could pull it away quick enough. The other man hissed in pain and shook out the hand, shaking off the scalding drops. Jet's eyes traveled over his partner and he wondered briefly if he looked as bad. They'd been pulling such long hours lately...

"Thanks. You look awful," he said gruffly to his partner.

Fad looked down at him with tired eyes but Jet wasn't sure if the other man even saw him. He had that look, what was it called? A thousand yard stare?

"Sometimes... I get so tired... I don't even know myself." Fad muttered, half to himself. He blew out a deep breath and rolled his neck before taking a sip of his own hot coffee and hissing again at the temperature as it hit his tongue. He gave Jet a rueful grin. "You might've thanked me too soon for the coffee, Jet. It wasn't the dregs this time, but piss water might be better tasting."

Jet huffed a short laugh. "If it keeps us upright and moving forward... well, then it's doing its job."

Fad closed his eyes for a moment and nodded sharply as if to wake himself up. "Speaking of that. You ready?"

Climbing to his feet, Jet nodded. "Crime waits for no one. Let's hit it." Grabbing the cup, accidentally splashing some of the dark liquid onto his left hand as he used his right to grab his gun holster out of the drawer it was in, he winced at the heat. 'Tis but a scratch! He thought to himself absently, a bit of dark humor at the unexpected yet insignificant pain. The Black Knight was one of his favorite parts of that old Earth sketch comedy. Something about the way the man never wavered in his pursuit of ...well, guarding a bridge for no discernable reason like a madman, but moreover his determination, how he never gave up... it really spoke to Jet. The man was like him. After all, when the Black Dog bites, he never lets go.

He finished his coffee as he followed Fad out the door.

scented candle / troubled past resurfacing / what happened to me (I only sink deeper the deeper I think)

Ocean Breeze.

An innocuous name for a candle. A pairing of words designed to calm and soothe as much as the scent of the candle itself. It wasn't really very much like the ocean, though. Nothing about it screamed 'salty spray' the way the words did to Faye's mind.

Although... why did she have an idea in her mind of what an ocean breeze would smell like?

A peculiar combination of emotions stole over her. Fear, unreasonable and baffling. Anticipation, an anxious sort of excitement that almost made her hopeful.

Was her troubled past resurfacing at last? Would she finally glean some answers as to who she really was, where she had been before, what type of world she had come from? Maybe even one of the most desperate questions she had... what happened to me?!

She clenched her eyes shut as tight as possible and brought the candle to her nose to inhale deeply. There had to be something... some memory tied to this aroma. Or, to the breeze off the ocean? Water? WHAT WAS THE ANSWER? WHO WAS SHE?!

I only sink deeper, the deeper I think.

With a shriek of frustration she threw the candle as hard as she could, hearing it shatter as it hit a wall. Countless voices sprang up from all around as well. Concerned onlookers, bewildered but unhappy sales people, the deep voice of a no-tolerance-for-bullshit manager cutting through the murmurs of the crowd.

Faye dashed an arm across her eyes to get rid of any evidence of tears that may have been forming. Scowling at everyone in sight, she angrily strode away before anyone could think to restrain her for the damage she'd caused.

Fucking pointless. What did any of it matter anyway? Who cared about the past or answers? Life was full of uncertainty and the future was built on lies.

Stalking through the mall, she stumbled as she went by a burbling indoor fountain in the center of the food court. A quick glance at the ground didn't reveal any puddles or wetness that she could discern. Shaking her head to clear it, she continued on her way. The notion of retail therapy had quickly lost its appeal and all she wanted to do now was get back to the Bebop and drink herself into a stupor.

No need for past memories when your mind was too muddled to even remember the here and now.