3/31/04
Author's Notes – Hey all! You're prolly gonna hate me for this... after all, why should I post another one shot when I should be working on the mound of unfinished fics I have already? Well, the answer to that is simple –for the longest time I was so opposed to writing one shots, but now that I've got a few under my belt, I've found that writing them is fun.
Besides, they just come out at the most random moments and you have no choice but to write them down. For instance, I was on my way to class today and the first line of this fic just popped into my head, and I was like "Whoa! That'd be an interesting way to start a fic!" and well... the rest as they say...
Nataku-chan – Is a crying shame... ::squeals as Miss Chang Po races after her::
Don't mind us, folks! ::whips out her mighty 'Pen of Justice':: Read and enjoy!
Jet held his finger at her wrist gently. His expression was tense, his fingers straining – willing for anything to happen. Silence reined as sweat beaded down his forehead. There had to be something there, anything!
Then, like magic, it happened; it was as if she had heard his silent pleas and willed something to happen. Though it was faint, Jet could finally hear a pulse beneath his fingertips. Wiping his brow, he let out a deep breath and turned to face the pair of mismatched brown eyes currently boring themselves into his back.
"I felt a pulse," He replied hoarsely, double-checking again just to make sure. He nodded in satisfaction as the pulse intensified just slightly. "She's alive."
Spike let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. She had a pulse; she was alive. She was still alive.
"Damn..." He stood up, running a shaky hand through his hair. "God damn it..."
Jet gave a disappointed frown, slightly confused at his response. "You disappointed, Spike?" It was true that the two of them never really got along, but he couldn't really regret her surviving, could he?
"I'm frickin' relieved, Jet!" Spike clenched a fist at his side. He stood turned away from him, still shaking slightly. "She had me scared shitless..." Spike turned back to face him, taking in the blood soaking his hands and clothes.
It was Faye's blood.
Spike could only vaguely recall the transmission they'd received from her a few hours back. Turns out she'd run into some trouble on Mars while on her way back to the Bebop. Some thugs had cut her off from her ship and she called to let them know she'd be a little delayed. Jet, ever the father figure, had told her to hide out some place until they could get to her to provide back up. However, when they arrived to her location, they found her passed out in an alley lying in a puddle of her own blood.
Jet remained silent a few moments, slightly taken aback by Spike's sudden admission. He had known that Spike held some unspoken attraction for the woman, but he never expected him to openly admit it – let alone his fear for her safety. Hell, he'd been ready to shoot someone at the sight of her unconscious body lying in the alley.
"She'll be all right," Jet found himself taking on the role of authoritative figure once again. While he was worried about her, too, he figured it was best not to let it show too much. Spike seemed upset enough for the both of them. With a cop's critical eye he assessed the damaged areas; from the looks of it, aside from a few scrapes and bruises the worst injury was the bullet wound right below her ribcage. Luckily, it didn't seem to have hit anything vital.
"The bullet went clear through," he explained. "It's a good thing we found her when we did, though... if she'd been left to bleed out there any longer..."
Spike was frowning thoughtfully. Now that they were safely back aboard the Bebop, his mind went back to the seedy place they had found her in. Tracking her communicator's signal, they'd almost literally stumbled across her in a back alleyway behind a group of Syndicate-owned bars. Such places were usually reserved for thugs and hookers. Though she did dress the part, Faye would usually never be caught dead – he winced at the pun – in such a sleazy area. He seriously hoped she hadn't been up to no good.
"What was she doing down there anyway?" he murmured out loud.
"A bounty." Jet ground out. Spike turned to look at him. The ex-cop had busied himself with cleaning out the bullet wound.
"I thought she had said something about going shopping..."
"Yeah..." Jet ran a hand over his head. "A friend of mind tipped me in on a real pricey bounty. I wasn't really interested in it, but she must'a overheard and decided to get it herself."
"Son of a...." Spike slammed his fist into the nearest wall. "All of this over a lousy bounty?! She could have gotten killed... or-or worse!"
Jet didn't speak for a moment, busying himself still with the task of cleaning her injuries. "She didn't do it for herself, Spike." He replied. The lanky bounty hunter standing behind him stilled. "You know as well as I do that she did it for the ship – we're pretty low on cash right now."
Spike ground his fist back and forth slowly against the metal wall; his eyes clenched shut tightly in frustration. "So you mean to tell me..."
"She's come a long way since those early days..." Jet mused. "She helps out more, complains less. I guess she's trying to prove herself..." He glanced up at Spike and then looked away again. "Matter o'fact, she probably didn't ask you to go with her 'cuz she knows you don't like being in Tharsis."
Opening his eyes, Spike bit back a curse. Tharsis. It was true that he didn't like the place – never had, really – especially since his final encounter with Vicious all those months ago. It had been a miracle that he had survived the ordeal – the doctor had only given him a clean bill of health a few weeks ago – he hadn't wanted any more reminders of that place or the events that had happened therein. If that meant never stepping foot in that city again, then so be it.
But Faye... stupid Faye had gone into that hell-hole/lion's den by herself without asking for or taking back up. And now she was hurt; and somehow it was his fault.
"Damn..." Spike looked up at his partner, who was scrounging through their first aid kit. "I'm out of bandages."
"Already?" he blinked.
"Whaddya mean already?" Jet looked at him. "The last time we needed this many bandages was when—"
"Okay, okay, Jet, I gotcha." Spike cut him off, running a hand through his hair again. He already felt bad enough as it was, did the old guy have to rub it in? "Want me to go get some?"
Jet paused for a moment. "Nah, I'll go get'em." He replied. Spike gave him a look. "There's some other stuff I gotta pick up. You just stay here and look after her."
"You've gotta be kidding me."
For the first time in hours, Jet laughed. "Why not?" he asked, walking out of the cabin. "God knows how many times she's done it. It's 'bout time you returned the favor."
Spike's protest died on his lips as the ex-cop disappeared from sight.
~~~
Women were nothing but trouble; if you found yourself in too deep with one, you'd either end up dead or left with a bad taste in your mouth. At least, this was the case Spike found to be true. Women had a way of getting under your skin and fouling up all of your priorities. He'd promised himself a long while back that he'd never feel anything for a woman again after Julia. And he managed to keep to his word until Faye arrived.
Of course, the physical attraction had been there from day one. She was, after all, a total knockout – flawless skin, curves, and legs that went on for days – any man with eyes and a ... well... you get the picture... could tell that. Not to mention she was cool and confident in the way she scammed all those big timers at the casino where they first met. The Infamous Poker Alice Faye Valentine was one of a kind.
Still, Spike was still a profound believer of the fact that all women were trouble – women like Faye especially. From day one, he was determined not to let her get under his skin. He would not, could not, ever fall for the untouchable shrew woman. Ever.
Spike found himself smirking at the irony of it all.
~~~
A few hours went by in silence for Spike. Needless to say he was bored out of his mind and out of cigarettes, but his body would not let him move from his spot. He remained rooted on the arm of the couch, waiting for the moment when Faye would regain consciousness. Nothing else would be accomplished until she opened her eyes. Then and only then would everything be right with the world.
He felt incredibly stupid – the setup was way too fairy-tale-ish for his liking – but he felt obligated. That was just how deeply he had fallen. Whenever he had awoken from an alcohol induced stupor, or gunshot wound coma or anything of the like – she had been there waiting for him. If anything, Spike was honor-bound to return the favor.
'Honor-bound?' He scoffed. 'What would a woman like Faye know about honor?'
"And what, pray tell, is so freakin' funny, gaujo?"
Regaining his composure before he stumbled off of the couch, Spike looked down at Faye. She regarded him with a bleary-eyed look of irritation/amusement.
"Well?"
At the use of his 'nickname', Spike was tempted to come back with something equally witty to piss her off, but the guilt he felt at the current situation made him hold back. Instead, he regarded her with one his patented intense, but blank stares.
Faye found herself squirming. It wasn't like she had done anything remotely wrong to earn the ire of Spike's patented weirdo-stare, as she called it, but nevertheless it always served to make her feel like she was being picked apart and examined.
"What?" she snapped. "Haven't you ever seen a busted up woman before? Sheesh... take a frickin' picture, it'll last longer."
His concentration effectively broken, Spike blinked. "You make it seem as though this situation is an everyday thing for you..."
She blinked, turning away with a scoff. "Of course not..." she exclaimed. She paused a moment. "Well, not anymore at least."
"Care to explain?" She gave him a look that clearly said 'no', but Spike gave her the look again and she relented.
"Gimme a break," she explained. "Isn't it obvious? You think I just woke up with the skills I needed to get by in the world?" Seeing his expression lighten a little, she looked away from him. "It took a while before I was able to hold my own... there are guys out there who wouldn't hesitate when it came time to beat the shit out of some punk girl who tried to cheat them out of their money. Never mind if it was just some chump change or if she was just doin' it to survive. That's just life – I got used to it. Then I learned how to fight back."
Spike scowled, the image of a young Faye helpless against an onslaught of thugs – victim to their mercy. When he got the chance, he'd track down those thugs who beat her up in Tharsis and...
"Hey." He blinked, looking down at her. She was looking up at him in wonder. "You were worried, weren't you?"
He shifted uneasily. "You were in Tharsis... the place is crawling with ex- Syndicate thugs..."
"You were an ex-Syndicate thug..."
"I'm not like them... I was never like them!"
Faye blinked at his outburst. "Okay... so... answer my question." He gave her a 'huh' look. "Were. You. Worried?"
Spike gave a snort, rising from his seat. "Jet's gone to get you some bandages. Try not to move around too much." Walking out of the small cabin area he called over his shoulder, "Call if you need anything."
Faye let out a 'hmph' sound, which Spike noted held a bit of satisfaction to it. What did she have to be satisfied about, though? He hadn't admitted to anything... had he? Damned shrew woman... good thing she couldn't see how embarrassed he was.
"Hey, Spike." He stopped, but didn't look back. Faye's voice floated over to him from the cabin soft and clear. "I know you're not like those other guys... otherwise I wouldn't like you so much."
He blinked in surprise, wheeling back to face her. Only, she had laid back down and drifted back into sub consciousness. Sighing heavily, he resumed his perch on the arm of the couch. He owed it to her to keep watch over her – whether he liked it or not. And even though those thugs couldn't reach her here, he wanted to protect her, to keep her safe.
~ "You think I just woke up with the skills I needed to get by in the world?" ~ Who did, really? Spike knew what it was like to have to fend for yourself in a world that seemed like it was out to get you. He'd certainly had his fair share of enemies before he really knew the meaning of the word. You had to learn how to look after yourself quick – nine times out of ten there wasn't anyone else there willing to do it for you.
He had more in common with the shrew than he had wanted to admit. They were kindred spirits thrown together by chance. Could he swallow his pride and really learn to work with her? Could he be there for her when she had no one else to fall back on? Would she let him?
Spike stared down at her features calmed by sleep. She really was something, although it was hard to tell when she was awake and flapping her lip a mile and minute. He really had gotten quite attached to her. The thought of someone trying to hurt her and take her away just did not sit well with him – not at all. Spike was a man of action – and this action done against his woman could not be ignored.
His... what?! Spike's mismatched eyes widened; he'd called her his what? Standing up, he backed away a few paces. He took another look at her, trying to decide whether or not his brain had just experienced a malfunction.
No, somehow, just as he'd always believed, Faye had managed to get under his skin. She had become a part of him just as much as she'd become a part of the Bebop crew. Without her there, it just wasn't the same – wasn't right. However, rather than leaving a bad taste in his mouth as he'd originally claimed she would, Spike found himself wondering, wanting to know what she would taste like. He should have been bothered by the direction his thoughts were taking, but he wasn't.
The man who had sworn off women completely was now falling for the most untouchable of the whole lot. You had to love the irony.
~End
Author's Notes – Okay, I'm ending it here because if I go any farther it'll turn into a multi-chapter thing and that was not my intention.
Miss Chang Po – Really now?
::nods:: Yup... like I said earlier, it was just supposed to be one of those things were it's just like, 'hmm, I wonder what kind of fic this would turn out to be if I started it like this...' Where it could have been a Jet/Faye friendship thing, it morphed into a whole 'nother 'Sleeping Awake' type deal. Don't know what I'm talking about? Go read it! Pretty please?
But anyway, while he does sorta seem out of character, I'm charmed by the idea of Spike being the first one to admit his feelings (to the reader at least). But anyways, the idea of making a multi-chapter fic out of it seems a bit overdone, and I like toying with the idea of writing a sorta plot-less what-if type thing.
Aren't writing exercises fun?
Remember the 3 R's, minna! Ja ne!
Author's Notes – Hey all! You're prolly gonna hate me for this... after all, why should I post another one shot when I should be working on the mound of unfinished fics I have already? Well, the answer to that is simple –for the longest time I was so opposed to writing one shots, but now that I've got a few under my belt, I've found that writing them is fun.
Besides, they just come out at the most random moments and you have no choice but to write them down. For instance, I was on my way to class today and the first line of this fic just popped into my head, and I was like "Whoa! That'd be an interesting way to start a fic!" and well... the rest as they say...
Nataku-chan – Is a crying shame... ::squeals as Miss Chang Po races after her::
Don't mind us, folks! ::whips out her mighty 'Pen of Justice':: Read and enjoy!
Jet held his finger at her wrist gently. His expression was tense, his fingers straining – willing for anything to happen. Silence reined as sweat beaded down his forehead. There had to be something there, anything!
Then, like magic, it happened; it was as if she had heard his silent pleas and willed something to happen. Though it was faint, Jet could finally hear a pulse beneath his fingertips. Wiping his brow, he let out a deep breath and turned to face the pair of mismatched brown eyes currently boring themselves into his back.
"I felt a pulse," He replied hoarsely, double-checking again just to make sure. He nodded in satisfaction as the pulse intensified just slightly. "She's alive."
Spike let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. She had a pulse; she was alive. She was still alive.
"Damn..." He stood up, running a shaky hand through his hair. "God damn it..."
Jet gave a disappointed frown, slightly confused at his response. "You disappointed, Spike?" It was true that the two of them never really got along, but he couldn't really regret her surviving, could he?
"I'm frickin' relieved, Jet!" Spike clenched a fist at his side. He stood turned away from him, still shaking slightly. "She had me scared shitless..." Spike turned back to face him, taking in the blood soaking his hands and clothes.
It was Faye's blood.
Spike could only vaguely recall the transmission they'd received from her a few hours back. Turns out she'd run into some trouble on Mars while on her way back to the Bebop. Some thugs had cut her off from her ship and she called to let them know she'd be a little delayed. Jet, ever the father figure, had told her to hide out some place until they could get to her to provide back up. However, when they arrived to her location, they found her passed out in an alley lying in a puddle of her own blood.
Jet remained silent a few moments, slightly taken aback by Spike's sudden admission. He had known that Spike held some unspoken attraction for the woman, but he never expected him to openly admit it – let alone his fear for her safety. Hell, he'd been ready to shoot someone at the sight of her unconscious body lying in the alley.
"She'll be all right," Jet found himself taking on the role of authoritative figure once again. While he was worried about her, too, he figured it was best not to let it show too much. Spike seemed upset enough for the both of them. With a cop's critical eye he assessed the damaged areas; from the looks of it, aside from a few scrapes and bruises the worst injury was the bullet wound right below her ribcage. Luckily, it didn't seem to have hit anything vital.
"The bullet went clear through," he explained. "It's a good thing we found her when we did, though... if she'd been left to bleed out there any longer..."
Spike was frowning thoughtfully. Now that they were safely back aboard the Bebop, his mind went back to the seedy place they had found her in. Tracking her communicator's signal, they'd almost literally stumbled across her in a back alleyway behind a group of Syndicate-owned bars. Such places were usually reserved for thugs and hookers. Though she did dress the part, Faye would usually never be caught dead – he winced at the pun – in such a sleazy area. He seriously hoped she hadn't been up to no good.
"What was she doing down there anyway?" he murmured out loud.
"A bounty." Jet ground out. Spike turned to look at him. The ex-cop had busied himself with cleaning out the bullet wound.
"I thought she had said something about going shopping..."
"Yeah..." Jet ran a hand over his head. "A friend of mind tipped me in on a real pricey bounty. I wasn't really interested in it, but she must'a overheard and decided to get it herself."
"Son of a...." Spike slammed his fist into the nearest wall. "All of this over a lousy bounty?! She could have gotten killed... or-or worse!"
Jet didn't speak for a moment, busying himself still with the task of cleaning her injuries. "She didn't do it for herself, Spike." He replied. The lanky bounty hunter standing behind him stilled. "You know as well as I do that she did it for the ship – we're pretty low on cash right now."
Spike ground his fist back and forth slowly against the metal wall; his eyes clenched shut tightly in frustration. "So you mean to tell me..."
"She's come a long way since those early days..." Jet mused. "She helps out more, complains less. I guess she's trying to prove herself..." He glanced up at Spike and then looked away again. "Matter o'fact, she probably didn't ask you to go with her 'cuz she knows you don't like being in Tharsis."
Opening his eyes, Spike bit back a curse. Tharsis. It was true that he didn't like the place – never had, really – especially since his final encounter with Vicious all those months ago. It had been a miracle that he had survived the ordeal – the doctor had only given him a clean bill of health a few weeks ago – he hadn't wanted any more reminders of that place or the events that had happened therein. If that meant never stepping foot in that city again, then so be it.
But Faye... stupid Faye had gone into that hell-hole/lion's den by herself without asking for or taking back up. And now she was hurt; and somehow it was his fault.
"Damn..." Spike looked up at his partner, who was scrounging through their first aid kit. "I'm out of bandages."
"Already?" he blinked.
"Whaddya mean already?" Jet looked at him. "The last time we needed this many bandages was when—"
"Okay, okay, Jet, I gotcha." Spike cut him off, running a hand through his hair again. He already felt bad enough as it was, did the old guy have to rub it in? "Want me to go get some?"
Jet paused for a moment. "Nah, I'll go get'em." He replied. Spike gave him a look. "There's some other stuff I gotta pick up. You just stay here and look after her."
"You've gotta be kidding me."
For the first time in hours, Jet laughed. "Why not?" he asked, walking out of the cabin. "God knows how many times she's done it. It's 'bout time you returned the favor."
Spike's protest died on his lips as the ex-cop disappeared from sight.
~~~
Women were nothing but trouble; if you found yourself in too deep with one, you'd either end up dead or left with a bad taste in your mouth. At least, this was the case Spike found to be true. Women had a way of getting under your skin and fouling up all of your priorities. He'd promised himself a long while back that he'd never feel anything for a woman again after Julia. And he managed to keep to his word until Faye arrived.
Of course, the physical attraction had been there from day one. She was, after all, a total knockout – flawless skin, curves, and legs that went on for days – any man with eyes and a ... well... you get the picture... could tell that. Not to mention she was cool and confident in the way she scammed all those big timers at the casino where they first met. The Infamous Poker Alice Faye Valentine was one of a kind.
Still, Spike was still a profound believer of the fact that all women were trouble – women like Faye especially. From day one, he was determined not to let her get under his skin. He would not, could not, ever fall for the untouchable shrew woman. Ever.
Spike found himself smirking at the irony of it all.
~~~
A few hours went by in silence for Spike. Needless to say he was bored out of his mind and out of cigarettes, but his body would not let him move from his spot. He remained rooted on the arm of the couch, waiting for the moment when Faye would regain consciousness. Nothing else would be accomplished until she opened her eyes. Then and only then would everything be right with the world.
He felt incredibly stupid – the setup was way too fairy-tale-ish for his liking – but he felt obligated. That was just how deeply he had fallen. Whenever he had awoken from an alcohol induced stupor, or gunshot wound coma or anything of the like – she had been there waiting for him. If anything, Spike was honor-bound to return the favor.
'Honor-bound?' He scoffed. 'What would a woman like Faye know about honor?'
"And what, pray tell, is so freakin' funny, gaujo?"
Regaining his composure before he stumbled off of the couch, Spike looked down at Faye. She regarded him with a bleary-eyed look of irritation/amusement.
"Well?"
At the use of his 'nickname', Spike was tempted to come back with something equally witty to piss her off, but the guilt he felt at the current situation made him hold back. Instead, he regarded her with one his patented intense, but blank stares.
Faye found herself squirming. It wasn't like she had done anything remotely wrong to earn the ire of Spike's patented weirdo-stare, as she called it, but nevertheless it always served to make her feel like she was being picked apart and examined.
"What?" she snapped. "Haven't you ever seen a busted up woman before? Sheesh... take a frickin' picture, it'll last longer."
His concentration effectively broken, Spike blinked. "You make it seem as though this situation is an everyday thing for you..."
She blinked, turning away with a scoff. "Of course not..." she exclaimed. She paused a moment. "Well, not anymore at least."
"Care to explain?" She gave him a look that clearly said 'no', but Spike gave her the look again and she relented.
"Gimme a break," she explained. "Isn't it obvious? You think I just woke up with the skills I needed to get by in the world?" Seeing his expression lighten a little, she looked away from him. "It took a while before I was able to hold my own... there are guys out there who wouldn't hesitate when it came time to beat the shit out of some punk girl who tried to cheat them out of their money. Never mind if it was just some chump change or if she was just doin' it to survive. That's just life – I got used to it. Then I learned how to fight back."
Spike scowled, the image of a young Faye helpless against an onslaught of thugs – victim to their mercy. When he got the chance, he'd track down those thugs who beat her up in Tharsis and...
"Hey." He blinked, looking down at her. She was looking up at him in wonder. "You were worried, weren't you?"
He shifted uneasily. "You were in Tharsis... the place is crawling with ex- Syndicate thugs..."
"You were an ex-Syndicate thug..."
"I'm not like them... I was never like them!"
Faye blinked at his outburst. "Okay... so... answer my question." He gave her a 'huh' look. "Were. You. Worried?"
Spike gave a snort, rising from his seat. "Jet's gone to get you some bandages. Try not to move around too much." Walking out of the small cabin area he called over his shoulder, "Call if you need anything."
Faye let out a 'hmph' sound, which Spike noted held a bit of satisfaction to it. What did she have to be satisfied about, though? He hadn't admitted to anything... had he? Damned shrew woman... good thing she couldn't see how embarrassed he was.
"Hey, Spike." He stopped, but didn't look back. Faye's voice floated over to him from the cabin soft and clear. "I know you're not like those other guys... otherwise I wouldn't like you so much."
He blinked in surprise, wheeling back to face her. Only, she had laid back down and drifted back into sub consciousness. Sighing heavily, he resumed his perch on the arm of the couch. He owed it to her to keep watch over her – whether he liked it or not. And even though those thugs couldn't reach her here, he wanted to protect her, to keep her safe.
~ "You think I just woke up with the skills I needed to get by in the world?" ~ Who did, really? Spike knew what it was like to have to fend for yourself in a world that seemed like it was out to get you. He'd certainly had his fair share of enemies before he really knew the meaning of the word. You had to learn how to look after yourself quick – nine times out of ten there wasn't anyone else there willing to do it for you.
He had more in common with the shrew than he had wanted to admit. They were kindred spirits thrown together by chance. Could he swallow his pride and really learn to work with her? Could he be there for her when she had no one else to fall back on? Would she let him?
Spike stared down at her features calmed by sleep. She really was something, although it was hard to tell when she was awake and flapping her lip a mile and minute. He really had gotten quite attached to her. The thought of someone trying to hurt her and take her away just did not sit well with him – not at all. Spike was a man of action – and this action done against his woman could not be ignored.
His... what?! Spike's mismatched eyes widened; he'd called her his what? Standing up, he backed away a few paces. He took another look at her, trying to decide whether or not his brain had just experienced a malfunction.
No, somehow, just as he'd always believed, Faye had managed to get under his skin. She had become a part of him just as much as she'd become a part of the Bebop crew. Without her there, it just wasn't the same – wasn't right. However, rather than leaving a bad taste in his mouth as he'd originally claimed she would, Spike found himself wondering, wanting to know what she would taste like. He should have been bothered by the direction his thoughts were taking, but he wasn't.
The man who had sworn off women completely was now falling for the most untouchable of the whole lot. You had to love the irony.
~End
Author's Notes – Okay, I'm ending it here because if I go any farther it'll turn into a multi-chapter thing and that was not my intention.
Miss Chang Po – Really now?
::nods:: Yup... like I said earlier, it was just supposed to be one of those things were it's just like, 'hmm, I wonder what kind of fic this would turn out to be if I started it like this...' Where it could have been a Jet/Faye friendship thing, it morphed into a whole 'nother 'Sleeping Awake' type deal. Don't know what I'm talking about? Go read it! Pretty please?
But anyway, while he does sorta seem out of character, I'm charmed by the idea of Spike being the first one to admit his feelings (to the reader at least). But anyways, the idea of making a multi-chapter fic out of it seems a bit overdone, and I like toying with the idea of writing a sorta plot-less what-if type thing.
Aren't writing exercises fun?
Remember the 3 R's, minna! Ja ne!
