Soaking wet and dejected, Spike Spiegel trudged into the old fishing ship he called home. With a groan he peeled off his trench coat, dropping it to the floor beside the door, it landed in a water logged heap. His suit jacket, boots and socks soon joined the pile.
"Hello? Anyone around? Jet? Ed? Faye?"
No answer, except the faint clicking of nails on the metal floor. Guess the dog is the only one here. Sighing heavily, he ran his hand through his wet hair that was plastered to his forehead.
The bounty was supposed to be an easy pick up. A small fry, but still a decent enough chunk of change to make it worth his while. He would have had the little shit too, if trigger happy Faye hadn't screwed things up.
They had followed him into the bar, sat and had a couple drinks while watching him make a few drug deals. As soon as the bounty slipped out the back they had followed, hoping to catch him off guard.
Spike distinctively remembered telling Faye to stay down and wait, but no….instead she had gone in guns a blazing in typical Faye fashion, startling their bounty.
Spike had chased him down the alley way and half way across town, before ending up under a building with a busted gutter, losing sight of the bounty and ending up soaked. At that point he gave and returned back to the ship, a drink and a good sleep sounding like a much more inviting option.
Making his way to the bathroom, he loosened his tie, and rolled up his sleeves, turning on the cold water and splashing his face. Looking in the mirror, he stared back into his own brown eyes, he arched an eyebrow and studied his reflection, which in turn studied him back. Mismatched brown stared back into mismatched brown.
Colors, they were everywhere, his mind wondered onto the strange topic. His eyes were brown, the dingy hand towel on the rack beside the sink had brownish tinge, and at this point he could think of something else brown and 80 proof that would make the night better.
Trudging out of the bathroom he tripped over Ein, hitting the floor hard. "Christ Ein! Do you have to lay right there?!" Pulling himself up, he glanced down at the dog and smirked. He really needed that drink now. Ein's fur is brown too.
Rummaging through the cupboards the lanky man sighed in frustration. "Where the hell is it? I swear to god if that woman swiped it I'm gonna kill her" Digging in the back of the cupboard, behind the bag of dog food his fingers finally hit smooth glass. That's right, I knew she wouldn't find it there. She wouldn't dare feed the damn dog. Pulling out the bottle of whiskey his smirk grew into a full blown smile. Jack pot.
Rummaging through another cupboard he grabbed a glass and set it on the counter as he set to pour himself a strong one. As an after thought he put it back, opting to drink straight from the bottle. Unscrewing the cap he took a sip, and headed for the couch.