Heya, Shangri-La here! Now, I know that this story isn't under my pen
name, but that's because I'm co-authoring it. This first chapter is what I
wrote, and the second will be by my friend. We'll take turns trading off.
We just love weird couples, so here's one for you! FayexVicious! Hope you
all enjoy and review!
~~~~~
Faye's POV:
It was a crisp Saturday morning, and while I strolled down the street, taking my time as I do with most things, I could just smell the delicious aromas of countless varieties of food. Bread and pastries from the bakery, sweets from the candy shop, even fried rice was pungent in the air. My stomach was growling fiercely, demanding food, and I couldn't push back the groan that escaped me. It'd been nearly three days since I'd had a decent meal, and my stomach was getting pretty near to touching my back, so to speak. I remembered the days on the Bebop where we'd all complain about Jet's cooking and how he served nothing but bell peppers and beef - without the beef. Right now I'd give anything just to have that meal in my hands.
I smirked at the irony.
As a bounty hunter, I depended on the crimes of others, but lately, people seemed to be either behaving themselves or being snatched up by the law. My profession was growing harder and scarcer. The only reason my landlady allowed me to stay in the apartment was because I'd saved her from drowning once in the river. It'd been an accident really, but when Faye Valentine gets a free ride, she rides until she crashes or gets kicked off.
The hospital was looming in the distant at this point, and my thoughts had to be put on hold as I mounted the high, cement steps. The bright sun nearly blinded me when I glanced up into the blue sky, even though the weather was a bit cooler, and when I rubbed my eyes and regained vision, the colors around me had faded considerably. When I stepped into the darker building, the halls seemed to be badly lit, but I soon realized it was still just because of my eyes, which brought one thought to mind. What a day to forget your sunglasses!
I'd come to sell my blood; you know, just to earn a little money. Hey, it helps people, and gets me a meal. It's just a little shot, plus they pay you AND give you juice and cookies. The thought of eating again nearly made me giddy, but the prospect of the needles did not. But, hey, college students did this all the time, right? Why couldn't I?
At the desk, the nurse, her name was Sarah, kindly escorted me to the room and showed me the cot I could sit on, and, if needed, lie down on later. I decided to pretend to pass out later just to get a small nap in the cot since I would not be sleeping in one later that night, and would most likely end up...somewhere else. I didn't know yet.
I had to look away during the whole process. I hate needles. When it was all over though, I greedily took what I could of their graham crackers and sugar cookies and even stuffed what was left in my pockets when they weren't looking. I then took the juice, claimed to be feeling sick, and dozed off.
~~~~~
Sarah had other things to attend to while her blood donor slept on, so she moved on into the hall and navigated her way to another patient's room. He was a thirty-something, Caucasian male with shoulder-length, colorless hair that rolled in gentle waves onto his broad shoulders. He was tall and pale, and had sharp, aristocratic features that made anyone intimidated, but he was actually a very gentle figure.
He'd come to them with serious injuries caused by some sort of powerful gun and had lingered in a state of being only semi-alive and mostly dead for months. But now, he was recovering nicely, with one problem. He could not recall anything about himself. His name, home, past, family, age, birthday, anything. It was all blank with the only knowledge he possessed being the layout of the hospital, it's food, and the names of the nurses. He was actually a really sweet man who was reserved, quiet, and very compliant.
"Hello, Benjamin," she cooed, walking into his room. Benjamin had been the name he had chosen for himself upon awakening and finding he had no other to call himself by. "How are we feeling today?"
He was sitting by the window in a pair of gray sweat pants and a loose, black sweater. He'd taken to wearing clothes instead of the hospital gown lately, seeing as how he was near back to perfect health. The people who had brought him in had left some of his possessions, money to pay for his stay, and nothing more. They left no way to contact him; they didn't want him. It was strange, really...
Benjamin turned and smiled at her, his lips thin and pale in the bright sunlight illuminating him, making his skin a perfect shade of white. His hair shone healthily now, instead of dull and matted with blood like it had been when he'd come in. "Hello," he greeted her softly, deep voice rich and kind. "I'm fine."
"Would you like to go for a walk today?" she asked sweetly, extending her hand to him.
He nodded eagerly, like a child wanting to go to the park, and took her arm, rising to his feet. He was impressively tall, but still very weak. "Can we go outside?"
"Umm...I'm sure it wouldn't hurt!" Sarah valued Benjamin as one of her favorite patients.
He grinned, white teeth sparkling. There was something unnatural about his smile, like he wasn't meant to perform the action. Like he hadn't done it in his past life. His slanted, pale blue eyes was still dull and solemn, serious even when he was laughing.
His laugh. That was another matter. It was a hollow, echoing sound that only contained just a spark of joy and never really came from the heart.
Together, the two walked slowly down the hall.
~~~~~
When I awoke, I was feeling much better, much more calm and confident. I took the folded check from my pocket and smiled. As soon as I could cash it, I was going out for lunch. Then, rising to my feet, I tucked some of my ebony, shoulder-length hair behind my hair and stole a quick look in the mirror. A catty, self-rightous, smirking woman looked back at me, her face round and her features dainty, deep green eyes sparkling in mischief. Full, red lips curved up into an almost evil smile. I always looked like I was up to no good when I was happy.
Then, turning around, I smoothed the wrinkles out of my red, sleeveless shirt and denim shorts and started off. Years ago I had always worn the same look; slick yellow top and shorts too short for words. But I'd learned that, sometimes, looks were second to practicality. Especially when you had no one left to impress.
Spike was dead...
Hurt flared up in me at that thought. I wasn't interested in men or anything else for that matter anymore, because I had wanted him. I had wanted Spike! But, if I couldn't have him, I was content to be alone for a while.
I was almost at the door, comfortable tennis shoes thudding in the empty hall (man, I needed new shoes), when I spotted Sarah, my nurse, coming around the bend with a patient. I was about to call out to thank her when I realized just who she had leaning on her arm.
Vicious.
That tall, lean man with white hair and the fair skin, condescending face and deadbeat eyes. Sorrowful gaze. Firm scowl cemented in place. But now...he was different. He was looking gentle and kind and...and...and smiling!
My heart almost stopped. He had killed Spike, and died with him, I had assumed. Why was he alive? Why was he here when Spike couldn't be? This wasn't fair! I gritted my teeth in anger at the injustice. I wanted him to see me, and to maybe say something, so I could yell at him and scream and punch him straight across the jaw and just basically cause a horrid scene.
I ran over to the two of them, tears in my eyes, and stared up into his face defiantly, just waiting. Vicious merely stopped walking and looked at me in surprise. He didn't seem to know...
"Hello," he said politely. "My name is Benjamin."
"It is not!" I seethed, right before it dawned on me what was happening. He had amnesia. "I mean, I - I know you."
He squinted at me in surprise, and it felt weird and awkward to be standing so close to the killer while he remained lost and helpless. "I think," he said at last, "I know you. May...?"
Close enough. "Yes," I said. "May Valentine." Already there is a plan in my mind. "And you are called Vicious. Sarah, may I talk to you for a moment?"
~~~~~
People can be gullible, and it only took a matter of moments to convince the hospital staff that Vicious was my husband, who I had thought had been mugged and then murdered. I basically told them that he had gone out for bread one night and never come home. They wanted to wait a few weeks to release him and I was ok with that. It gave me time to make up false documents and gather some fake proof that I really did know him. It wasn't all that hard, mostly because Vicious was so sure he knew me and we had been on good terms. Oh what a tangled web we weave...
"This is our home," I told him, opening the door to the small apartment. Too bad I hadn't had time to clean and make it look like he had been there at one time. I mean, what kind of a wife throws away everything of her dead husband's after only a few months? Me, I guess.
Vicious just stood there in the doorway, a suitcase in hand and a box of belongings under his arm. He looked vaguely confused, like coming here with me was a mistake. Well, it was. Hesitantly, he stepped inside and put his stuff on the kitchen table, small as it was.
"I'll get you something to eat," I said, going to rummage through the pantry and producing enough bread and peanut butter for a sandwich. Hey, it was all he was going to get.
Vicious was staring at my sparse collection of photographs on the wall. Jet and Ed together on the Bebop, Spike lazily lounging on the couch. The four of us together. I even had one of Ein. I'd taken them here and there whenever I felt like it. It was almost as if I knew I would need the memories someday.
"Where are the wedding pictures?"
"What?" I asked absently.
"We're married, right? So, where are the wedding pictures? Anything of us together?" He paused, and then looked closer at the photographs. "Who are these people?"
"My family," I said quietly. "And I don't have anything of you because you're very camera shy. You never wanted to take pictures. And the wedding photographs are packed away." A harmless lie. I'd just find a happy couple in black and white and paste our faces over theirs or something.
"Oh." He seemed satisfied with that. "Can I take a shower?"
"Yeah, sure." I pointed him in the direction of the bathroom and then sat myself down at the table, beginning to eat the sandwich I had originally made for him. He didn't seem to be hungry anyway, and I was. I listened to the water running and then eventually heard it stop. All the while, I was thinking of what to do with him.
I had Vicious at my mercy now, but just what to do? I wanted him to suffer emotionally, but doing that may take some time. I wanted to get him to trust and love me and then take it all away and let the betrayal burn him worse than any fire ever could. Eventually, I wanted to lure him out somewhere and just shoot him to pieces. For Spike. Even for Julia.
The door to the bathroom opened and Vicious emerged, a towel wrapped around his waist and water still dripping down his bear chest. I have to admit, I blushed. Not because he was in a towel, but because he was VICIOUS. The man had always been clothed to the fullest extent when I had seen him, not even letting his arms go without covering. He had a nasty scar where I supposed Spike had shot him, just along the ridge of his left ribcage.
"Hey," he said, unashamed even as my face turned bright red, "I'm going to bed, ok?"
"Yeah," I croaked, and he turned around to walk back into the closet. Once he had figured out that, he turned to me, chuckling nervously, and then tried the next door. And yes, it was the bedroom.
The bedroom! Darn it!
I had thought of having to sleep in the same bed as him, and I had presumed that maybe I'd just come in really late, while he was asleep, and crawl in and just lie on the very edge, but now... Now I was a complete mess, ready for a nervous breakdown.
Well, he was handsome...
I licked the peanut butter off my fingers and smiled.
This would be my revenge. He would pay so dearly.
~~~~~
Faye's POV:
It was a crisp Saturday morning, and while I strolled down the street, taking my time as I do with most things, I could just smell the delicious aromas of countless varieties of food. Bread and pastries from the bakery, sweets from the candy shop, even fried rice was pungent in the air. My stomach was growling fiercely, demanding food, and I couldn't push back the groan that escaped me. It'd been nearly three days since I'd had a decent meal, and my stomach was getting pretty near to touching my back, so to speak. I remembered the days on the Bebop where we'd all complain about Jet's cooking and how he served nothing but bell peppers and beef - without the beef. Right now I'd give anything just to have that meal in my hands.
I smirked at the irony.
As a bounty hunter, I depended on the crimes of others, but lately, people seemed to be either behaving themselves or being snatched up by the law. My profession was growing harder and scarcer. The only reason my landlady allowed me to stay in the apartment was because I'd saved her from drowning once in the river. It'd been an accident really, but when Faye Valentine gets a free ride, she rides until she crashes or gets kicked off.
The hospital was looming in the distant at this point, and my thoughts had to be put on hold as I mounted the high, cement steps. The bright sun nearly blinded me when I glanced up into the blue sky, even though the weather was a bit cooler, and when I rubbed my eyes and regained vision, the colors around me had faded considerably. When I stepped into the darker building, the halls seemed to be badly lit, but I soon realized it was still just because of my eyes, which brought one thought to mind. What a day to forget your sunglasses!
I'd come to sell my blood; you know, just to earn a little money. Hey, it helps people, and gets me a meal. It's just a little shot, plus they pay you AND give you juice and cookies. The thought of eating again nearly made me giddy, but the prospect of the needles did not. But, hey, college students did this all the time, right? Why couldn't I?
At the desk, the nurse, her name was Sarah, kindly escorted me to the room and showed me the cot I could sit on, and, if needed, lie down on later. I decided to pretend to pass out later just to get a small nap in the cot since I would not be sleeping in one later that night, and would most likely end up...somewhere else. I didn't know yet.
I had to look away during the whole process. I hate needles. When it was all over though, I greedily took what I could of their graham crackers and sugar cookies and even stuffed what was left in my pockets when they weren't looking. I then took the juice, claimed to be feeling sick, and dozed off.
~~~~~
Sarah had other things to attend to while her blood donor slept on, so she moved on into the hall and navigated her way to another patient's room. He was a thirty-something, Caucasian male with shoulder-length, colorless hair that rolled in gentle waves onto his broad shoulders. He was tall and pale, and had sharp, aristocratic features that made anyone intimidated, but he was actually a very gentle figure.
He'd come to them with serious injuries caused by some sort of powerful gun and had lingered in a state of being only semi-alive and mostly dead for months. But now, he was recovering nicely, with one problem. He could not recall anything about himself. His name, home, past, family, age, birthday, anything. It was all blank with the only knowledge he possessed being the layout of the hospital, it's food, and the names of the nurses. He was actually a really sweet man who was reserved, quiet, and very compliant.
"Hello, Benjamin," she cooed, walking into his room. Benjamin had been the name he had chosen for himself upon awakening and finding he had no other to call himself by. "How are we feeling today?"
He was sitting by the window in a pair of gray sweat pants and a loose, black sweater. He'd taken to wearing clothes instead of the hospital gown lately, seeing as how he was near back to perfect health. The people who had brought him in had left some of his possessions, money to pay for his stay, and nothing more. They left no way to contact him; they didn't want him. It was strange, really...
Benjamin turned and smiled at her, his lips thin and pale in the bright sunlight illuminating him, making his skin a perfect shade of white. His hair shone healthily now, instead of dull and matted with blood like it had been when he'd come in. "Hello," he greeted her softly, deep voice rich and kind. "I'm fine."
"Would you like to go for a walk today?" she asked sweetly, extending her hand to him.
He nodded eagerly, like a child wanting to go to the park, and took her arm, rising to his feet. He was impressively tall, but still very weak. "Can we go outside?"
"Umm...I'm sure it wouldn't hurt!" Sarah valued Benjamin as one of her favorite patients.
He grinned, white teeth sparkling. There was something unnatural about his smile, like he wasn't meant to perform the action. Like he hadn't done it in his past life. His slanted, pale blue eyes was still dull and solemn, serious even when he was laughing.
His laugh. That was another matter. It was a hollow, echoing sound that only contained just a spark of joy and never really came from the heart.
Together, the two walked slowly down the hall.
~~~~~
When I awoke, I was feeling much better, much more calm and confident. I took the folded check from my pocket and smiled. As soon as I could cash it, I was going out for lunch. Then, rising to my feet, I tucked some of my ebony, shoulder-length hair behind my hair and stole a quick look in the mirror. A catty, self-rightous, smirking woman looked back at me, her face round and her features dainty, deep green eyes sparkling in mischief. Full, red lips curved up into an almost evil smile. I always looked like I was up to no good when I was happy.
Then, turning around, I smoothed the wrinkles out of my red, sleeveless shirt and denim shorts and started off. Years ago I had always worn the same look; slick yellow top and shorts too short for words. But I'd learned that, sometimes, looks were second to practicality. Especially when you had no one left to impress.
Spike was dead...
Hurt flared up in me at that thought. I wasn't interested in men or anything else for that matter anymore, because I had wanted him. I had wanted Spike! But, if I couldn't have him, I was content to be alone for a while.
I was almost at the door, comfortable tennis shoes thudding in the empty hall (man, I needed new shoes), when I spotted Sarah, my nurse, coming around the bend with a patient. I was about to call out to thank her when I realized just who she had leaning on her arm.
Vicious.
That tall, lean man with white hair and the fair skin, condescending face and deadbeat eyes. Sorrowful gaze. Firm scowl cemented in place. But now...he was different. He was looking gentle and kind and...and...and smiling!
My heart almost stopped. He had killed Spike, and died with him, I had assumed. Why was he alive? Why was he here when Spike couldn't be? This wasn't fair! I gritted my teeth in anger at the injustice. I wanted him to see me, and to maybe say something, so I could yell at him and scream and punch him straight across the jaw and just basically cause a horrid scene.
I ran over to the two of them, tears in my eyes, and stared up into his face defiantly, just waiting. Vicious merely stopped walking and looked at me in surprise. He didn't seem to know...
"Hello," he said politely. "My name is Benjamin."
"It is not!" I seethed, right before it dawned on me what was happening. He had amnesia. "I mean, I - I know you."
He squinted at me in surprise, and it felt weird and awkward to be standing so close to the killer while he remained lost and helpless. "I think," he said at last, "I know you. May...?"
Close enough. "Yes," I said. "May Valentine." Already there is a plan in my mind. "And you are called Vicious. Sarah, may I talk to you for a moment?"
~~~~~
People can be gullible, and it only took a matter of moments to convince the hospital staff that Vicious was my husband, who I had thought had been mugged and then murdered. I basically told them that he had gone out for bread one night and never come home. They wanted to wait a few weeks to release him and I was ok with that. It gave me time to make up false documents and gather some fake proof that I really did know him. It wasn't all that hard, mostly because Vicious was so sure he knew me and we had been on good terms. Oh what a tangled web we weave...
"This is our home," I told him, opening the door to the small apartment. Too bad I hadn't had time to clean and make it look like he had been there at one time. I mean, what kind of a wife throws away everything of her dead husband's after only a few months? Me, I guess.
Vicious just stood there in the doorway, a suitcase in hand and a box of belongings under his arm. He looked vaguely confused, like coming here with me was a mistake. Well, it was. Hesitantly, he stepped inside and put his stuff on the kitchen table, small as it was.
"I'll get you something to eat," I said, going to rummage through the pantry and producing enough bread and peanut butter for a sandwich. Hey, it was all he was going to get.
Vicious was staring at my sparse collection of photographs on the wall. Jet and Ed together on the Bebop, Spike lazily lounging on the couch. The four of us together. I even had one of Ein. I'd taken them here and there whenever I felt like it. It was almost as if I knew I would need the memories someday.
"Where are the wedding pictures?"
"What?" I asked absently.
"We're married, right? So, where are the wedding pictures? Anything of us together?" He paused, and then looked closer at the photographs. "Who are these people?"
"My family," I said quietly. "And I don't have anything of you because you're very camera shy. You never wanted to take pictures. And the wedding photographs are packed away." A harmless lie. I'd just find a happy couple in black and white and paste our faces over theirs or something.
"Oh." He seemed satisfied with that. "Can I take a shower?"
"Yeah, sure." I pointed him in the direction of the bathroom and then sat myself down at the table, beginning to eat the sandwich I had originally made for him. He didn't seem to be hungry anyway, and I was. I listened to the water running and then eventually heard it stop. All the while, I was thinking of what to do with him.
I had Vicious at my mercy now, but just what to do? I wanted him to suffer emotionally, but doing that may take some time. I wanted to get him to trust and love me and then take it all away and let the betrayal burn him worse than any fire ever could. Eventually, I wanted to lure him out somewhere and just shoot him to pieces. For Spike. Even for Julia.
The door to the bathroom opened and Vicious emerged, a towel wrapped around his waist and water still dripping down his bear chest. I have to admit, I blushed. Not because he was in a towel, but because he was VICIOUS. The man had always been clothed to the fullest extent when I had seen him, not even letting his arms go without covering. He had a nasty scar where I supposed Spike had shot him, just along the ridge of his left ribcage.
"Hey," he said, unashamed even as my face turned bright red, "I'm going to bed, ok?"
"Yeah," I croaked, and he turned around to walk back into the closet. Once he had figured out that, he turned to me, chuckling nervously, and then tried the next door. And yes, it was the bedroom.
The bedroom! Darn it!
I had thought of having to sleep in the same bed as him, and I had presumed that maybe I'd just come in really late, while he was asleep, and crawl in and just lie on the very edge, but now... Now I was a complete mess, ready for a nervous breakdown.
Well, he was handsome...
I licked the peanut butter off my fingers and smiled.
This would be my revenge. He would pay so dearly.