Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop.

This Isn't My Job

It was the way things usually went.

Jet would stress out under a thin veil of growling self control. Spike and Faye would stand further back, usually smoking, occasionally watching out of morbid curiosity. And if Ed was there, she would do whatever the hell she wanted.

Jet, for one, thanked the lord that Ed wasn't here. The guy standing on the window ledge outside would have jumped long ago if she was in the room.

"Okay now, buddy. Just step off the ledge, and let's talk."

"What, so you can collect your big fat bounty? Screw that!"

"Better than the alternative, don't you think?"

The shortish, roundish, balding fellow looked down at the street fifteen stories below him. He seemed to suffer from a case of vertigo before quickly slamming his back against the wall.

"Maybe…"

"Then just come off the ledge," Jet said lightly, using his 'I'm just one of the guys' voice. At least, he thought it was his 'I'm just one of the guys' voice. It'd been a long time since he'd done this shit.

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"Weird, isn't it?" Spike asked, safely hidden at the back of the dusty abandoned room.

"What's that?" Faye asked, pulling some cigarettes from her sweater. Spike eyed the red material suspiciously. She was always pulling all manner of things out of that sweater. Did she steal it from a magician?

"That we all wound up here at the exact same time."

Faye lit up and took a long drag of her cigarette. "One big cosmic coincidence, I suppose. If my life has taught me anything, it's that God has a sense of humour."

"God?"

She locked her fingers together and stretched her arms above her head. "Or fate, or whatever the hell you want to call it. Does it matter?"

"To some people."

Faye paused in mid-stretch. "Like you, Spike?"

A vague smile was all she got on the subject.

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"Why the hell shouldn't I jump? I've got nothing to live for."

"Sure you do, buddy. What about your family?"

"My parents are dead."

"Brothers and sisters?"

"I have a brother."

"Well, there you go. You wouldn't want him to be lonely during the family reunion, would you?"

"He's dead."

"So, you got a wife?"

He snorted. "You're kidding, right? Look at me!"

Jet tried not to. "What do you mean? You look fine."

"What are you, high? I'm short, fat, and bald. I'm a walking stereotype of ugliness."

"True story," Spike chimed in from the back of the room.

Jet gave him a look that would have made anyone else pee their pants. As it was, it just made Spike smile and pull out a cigarette.

"See?!" Fat Short Bald Guy yelled.

"Don't listen to him, he's just got issues with…"

"Fat guys, right?"

"…I was gonna say 'everybody'."

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"You owe me one, you know," Faye said, keeping her eyes on Spike's cigarette as it wagged back and forth in his mouth.

"One what?" he muffled out as he searched for his lighter.

She tapped the end of his cancer stick.

"I-" he removed it to speak more clearly. "I do not."

"Do too. Remember in that Casino on Venus?"

"No."

"You liar! You wouldn't stop pestering me, so I gave you a cigarette to shut you up."

"That's because we had to go. It's not my fault you're a compulsive gambler."

"Ass."

"Shrew."

"Dick."

"Whore."

"You still owe me one."

"Show me your boobs. Then I'll owe you one."

"Gimme a cigarette, and I'll think about it."

"You've got a whole pack in that magic sweater of yours! Just have one of them!"

"But you owe me one," she whined.

"When the hell did you start caring about debts!?"

"Since they started fuelling my addiction!"

Spike put the cigarette in his mouth, found his lighter, and lit it.

Slowly.

And with great pleasure.

He blew out the smoke and put his face in Faye's.

"Mmm…" he smirked. "Cancer."

Faye crossed her arms. "Asshole."

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"Look, buddy, it's getting late. Do you want to come in now?"

"You're right. I won't keep you anymore." He lifted up a foot. "Goodbye, cruel-"

"Woah, woah! Hold up!" Fat Short Bald Guy took a step back. "Jesus, you scared the shit out of me."

Fat Short Bald Guy took some deep breaths. "Yeah… I, uh… kinda scared myself there…"

"See? Killing yourself isn't any fun. Just come inside, and we'll talk things out."

"Jeeeet…" a female voice whined.

He clenched his teeth. "What?"

"Spike won't give me a cigarette…"

"So?"

"So, he owes me one!"

"Do not!" Spike added.

"Spike, give her a damn cigarette."

"Screw that! She has about a hundred stashed away in her magic sweater!"

Jet whirled on his heel. "What you two, twelve?! Just give her the fucking cigarette!"

"But she doesn't deserve it!"

"And you do?!"

"Hell, yes!"

"How?!"

"Remember that guy I caught last week?"

"You mean the one in the retirement home? Or maybe the one that actually ended up being a worker at a homeless shelter?"

Spike put his hands in his pockets. "The first one…" he mumbled.

"Jesus Christ, you two are worse than the balding fatass on the ledge!"

He realised what he just said, and poked his head out the window.

"Hey there, buddy," he said, laughing. "Didn't mean you."

"Nope," Spike said, poking his head out of the window in front of Jet. "This is our speciality."

"It…" Fat Short Bald Guy looked confused. "It is?"

"Oh, yeah, we handle this stuff all the time."

"But… but you seem so…"

"'So' what?" Faye said, shoving her head out the window in front of Spike. Jet tried to say something, but gave up.

"…so… crap."

They were all silent.

Spike turned to Jet. "Can I push him?"

Faye put her hands up. "Okay, okay, wait a second. You're calling us crap? The short, bald, fat guy with no family who's about to kill himself and who just insulted the only three people in the world who actually give a shit if he lives or dies? What, do you want me to add stupid to your obituary, too?"

Jet groaned and put his hand on his face.

"You're… you're right."

Here comes the splat.

"I've got it so good compared to you guys!"

Jet's head whipped up. "Say what?"

Spike turned to Jet again. "One quick push, that's all it'll take."

"I mean, I may not have any family, but… look at you guys. I mean, you're losers, all of you! Your speciality is saving people's lives for money. People who don't even want to be saved! How pathetic is that? At least I can take some pride in my work!"

"What do you do?" Faye asked dumbly.

"Accountant," Jet answered, equally po-faced.

She glared at him. "An accountant? Fatass here is calling us losers, and he's an accountant?!"

"Just one push…" Spike sing-songed.

"Shut up, both of you," Jet hissed. "The guy wants to come in. Then we'll nab him and get the bounty."

"Why, how much is he worth?" Faye asked, speaking past Spike.

In a moment of pure inspiration, Spike blew smoke in Faye's face.

Personally, he thought it was hilarious.

She didn't reply at first. She just closed her eyes to keep the smoke out. Then, slowly, gradually, she spoke.

"Spike," she began. "Did you just blow smoke in my face?"

Spike smirked. "Yeah."

"Why?"

"'Cause you're being a bitch."

Jet snorted. "Par for the course…"

Spike tried to laugh, but ended up inhaling a butt load of smoke and going into a coughing fit. He stumbled inside.

A purple eyebrow twitched. "I'm sorry, what was that, Jet?"

"I said, shut up before our bounty gets away!"

"What bounty? He's a fat, bald, short, ugly, stupid, family-less loser accountant with delusions of grandeur! How much could he be worth?!" She wildly gestured with her right arm, knocking Fat Short Bald Guy's leg out from under him. He slipped and fell fifteen stories, landing surprisingly silently.

Jet and Faye stared down at the splat on the sidewalk below.

"Ten million Woolongs." Jet said dumbly.

"Oh… whoops."

Spike poked his head out between the two and tossed his cigarette stub away. "Never try to inhale a cigarette."

He looked at the ledge. "Where'd the fat guy go?" He followed their gaze. "Oh."

Stretching, he turned around, heading for the stairs.

"What's for dinner?"

Faye snapped to her senses. "Hey, wait a minute! You still owe me a cigarette!"

"In your dreams, bitch."

They continued bickering down the stairs. Jet slumped on the window ledge. He wondered if they would try to stop him he got up on the ledge.

"Jet, what hell are you doing? Sight seeing? Dinner's not gonna make itself!"

"At least he earns his keep, Faye."

"Oh, like you, I suppose?"

"Damn straight."

Jet closed his eyes.

Of course they would. They'd need him to change their diapers.

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(A/N: I have no idea where the inspiration for this story came from, but damned if I didn't think it was funny.

Please review. I want to know if you guys and gals found this funny too.)