Hey, and thanks for reading into my second fic on the net. Although my first isn't finished yet (a Peach Girl slice called Fallen Angel), I've decided to jump into my next fic, which happens to be a Cowboy Bebop. I hope you enjoy it! Again, any questions, comments, concerns, write me. XxManifestDestinyxX@yahoo.com, and leave a review! Thanks!
Love and Blues
The blades sliced through the air, winking downward at the sole inhabitant of the room. Jet stared upward, watching the fan's continual revolution. He sighed, closing his eyes. There were no playful games anymore or leisurely viewings of Big Shot on the old television. Edward and Ein were gone, and Spike…his more trusted colleague and friend…was dead to the world but very much alive in the utopia of true honor. It was on the news, Spike's death, and Vicious' demise. Sometimes Jet was not able to tell who the reporters and citizens made out to be the villain, Spike or Vicious. After much talk, Jet and Faye had made a joint decision not to retrieve Spike's body from Mars. Mars was his home, and where his heart was. As they left Spike's planet, Jet made the decision to return to Ganymede. His home. It would be good to see some of his old ISSP buddies again.
"Jet?" Faye said quietly, leaning against the doorframe of the living room, "Would you like something to eat? I'm making dinner."
"Whatever you make is fine," Jet replied, still staring up at the spinning fan blades.
Faye stayed in the doorway, staring sadly over to where Jet laid on the yellow couch. He wasn't taking Spike's absence well. He never showed how he felt, but his bonsai cried out for care that Jet hadn't felt the heart to give them. Faye disappeared back to the kitchen.
Jet glanced to where Faye had stood a moment earlier, light eyes grazing the doorframe. She had become much more helpful since Spike's death, cleaning and cooking for Jet and herself. She claimed that she did it so that he could finally relax, but Jet knew she did so to keep herself busy. She was crying now, in the kitchen. He could hear the soft echo of weeping in the empty ship. She cried at night, too, when she thought no one could hear her. Jet always heard, though. He wanted to assure her that things would be alright in the end. But he would hardly be able to convince her if he couldn't even convince himself.