Chapter 1
AN: Although this is rated M, there's no explicit sex. I chose to rate this M because of the themes, language and non-graphic sexual content.
I hope you enjoy it. :)
Disclaimer: I do not own any aspect of Cowboy Bebop.
-o-
The ship was lighted dismally, and as the smell of wasted smoke passed through the creaks in closed disconnected doors, there from the living room came the scent of pungent rose perfume.
Sprawled across the sickly-cinnamon coloured sofa lay a young woman - Faye - lighting a cigarette. She took a deep drag and watched as wisps of alabaster smoke drifted up in the still air forming whimsical whorls before gradually faded away, merging itself into stale fabric. A few minutes passed before she flicked the cigarette-butt into the dull glass ashtray whilst uncrossing her drawn-out legs languorously. The dim rumble of another ship moving by them in the Astral Gates shifted the defunctive air, providing relative comfort to the bounty-hunter: she had never been taken to silence, despite how she complained about Ed's antics and the mutt's barking; now she wished for Ed to be with her, to mindlessly talk and paint nails.
"Faye!" called her Captain from afar.
She deliberated whether to reply and when Jet bellowed once more, she sighed. "What?" she yelled in reply.
"I have a new bounty for you."
Valentine elevated her eyebrows. "How much?"
-o-
The broadly built, bronzed and middle-aged man bore his eyes lustfully at Faye's figure scantily hidden by a lilac backless dress; she returned an aloof look concealed by navy wreaths of smoke drifting up from her parted blossoming and reddened lips. The two continued to dance among other transient pairs.
She tugged the bounty's shirt forcefully - bringing him closer to her - the smell of vapid fumes spreading far among the yacht deck which was shadowed by the summer-warmed obscurity of night. "So..." she coyly begun, "what brings you to Mars?"
"Oh, you know," he muttered dismissively, "just business." He unabashedly stared lecherously at her chest.
"Business in drugs right?" she mused to herself before laughing flirtatiously, reassuring the empty man's belief that she was just another objectified summer-lasting adornment. Deciding to capture her bounty as quickly as possible, Faye chewed her lower lip before coyly whispering in his ear: "Do you want to go to a place more... secret?" She observed his reaction when he comprehended her words, his lips broke into an almost depraved smile of anticipation; beady eyes marked her like a beast of prey.
"Sure." he answered hungrily. "Whatever you want babe." he said; his rough protruding fingers snaked up her supple thighs, crawling towards her core.
"Slow down," she whispered, close enough to feel him exhale an angry shot of smoke-infested air against her bitten lips, "how about your room?"
-o-
The Florentine bed which Faye lay on was exquisitely wrought, sculpted out of ivory with embroidered lapis lazulis. The bounty's breath quickened. She swung her right leg over him languidly, straddling his hips, bringing him to thrust up against her in carnal anticipation. A face of passivity disguised her internal repulsion as she brought her teeth to his long neck, nipping it. His large hand begun to snake around her back, attempting to unclasp her bra; large thighs lethargically wrapped around her's.
"A garter?" he rasped, feeling the leather strap hidden beneath her lavender garment.
"Not quite." Faye replied; she ran her fingers underneath the fabric of her dress and quickly grabbed her glock, before pressing the cold muzzle to his head.
His eyes darkened, seeing red. "You fucking bitch." He snarled.
"I've heard those insults all before." She said, feigning a yawn dismissively. "Why don't you come up with something new?"
"How about I show you?"
Faye suddenly experienced herself flinging back which caused her hand to unwillingly release her gun; she fell to the floor, suffering from a stringing sensation from when his forehead ruthlessly struck her's. The bounty-hunter opened her pulsating eyes to find him above her again before feeling his terrible tightening fingers around her neck. She struggled madly, grasping his strong hands in a desperate attempt to wrench his hold from her throat. In a second she heard the poisonous lethal click of her own revolver as the gleaming muzzle touched the exposed skin a little higher than the center of her breathless chest.
When the relentless shot echoed in the fleeting night, Faye's eyes shut and an exact replica of her dead partner was evoked in the black center of her eyelids.
-o-
It would be two months until Faye would wake in Mars. And when she did - in a state of confusion - she found herself lying in a yellow poorly-lit but sanitary private clinic which, according to the leaflet on the nearby desk, specialised in traumatic brain injury. She could hear the monotonous movement of nurses, doctors and patients through thin quotidian walls. Odorless air passed around lifelessly in the neutral room. Out of habit, her numb left hand reached over to the sterile cabinet - she needed a cigarette: a lasting sense of the 'real', albeit it is the lingering scent of death and the noir.
"Stylish." she muttered sardonically, picking up the tawdry ends of her white and blue patterned hospital gown, she attempted to shift herself up with the use of her legs only to find they were unresponsive. She looked fixedly at her right toe, willing it to move until a gilty stream of sunlight momentarily passed the gaps in the coarse blinds which caused her eyes to flicker and fall upon a rounded raw scar which marred her no longer honey-hued skin, a sudden force of recollective thoughts subdued her attempts of recovering motion. A few moments passed.
"I never manage to kick the bucket over fully now," she lightly moaned, "can I?"
-o-
Some weeks had went; the recovery process was gradual and tedious with the balding strange Doctors. However, Faye slowly acquired more ability to respond and finally captured full awareness and motion. Later that night the Poker Alice sought to prepare herself and escape, indeed they had saved her life but she knew that their fundamental intention and reason was to burden her with a vast debt which she would not be able to pay off - a situation she did not enjoy last time.
Finally settling on the idea to steal another patient's - or worker's - coat and wallet: Faye sneaked gently into the occupied room across the vacuous hall at the gleaming eye of the still night. She slid into the patient's warm room and moved to the occupied hanger; her movements were quieter than his relieving breaths. And when she made way with his coat and personals she heard movement from the patient's bed.
"You always try to cheat me Romani." lightly accused a tired yet sonorously familiar voice.
Faye directed herself to the patient slowly and drew a sharp breath when she recognised with wonderment and joy the same dark pine-coloured hair, the same strong jawline, the same tall and thin frame, the same reddish-brown eyes. Time's wheels gradually began to turn again; the figurative rust fell off and the air moved with a purpose - not for mere existence.
"Spike." she breathed.
-o-
AN: As you can tell, this is going to be a multi-chaptered fic, I do have a plot written down and drafted. ^^
To explain things briefly, I drew influence from Oscar Wilde. :P I especially wanted to emphasise the importance of smoking and air, since I wanted to portray Faye as a person who wasn't living. However, I think it was all a bit too much, what do you guys think?
The decision to not introduce the bounty's name was... well, I was skeptical. I did not want to give him a name because I wanted everybody to appear transient and indifferent to Faye. Furthermore, the heavy description was meant to somewhat confuse the reader (haha, did it actually work?) because Faye herself is in a confused state. But I plan to follow up this chapter with a more simplified approach to writing. If you disagree, let me know, I won't bite. :)
R&Rs are always greatly appreciated. :3