Authors Note:
This has been reposted. After reading it I realized my grammar and spelling suck. Hehe. So I tried to fix it all. I'm planning on doing this to the other three chapters, before I post the 4th chapter (Which is done). The story hasn't changed at all, just some of the dialogue. Okies, Enjoy!The landing was bumpy. It almost always was. Especially when you're crash landing in a desert on Jupiter because The Bebop ran out of gas....again. Spike moaned as he sat up slowly. The impact had woken him from his peaceful sleep on the couch and tossed him to the floor like a rag doll. He winced and rubbed the spot where his head had collided with the floor.
"A little warning next time!" he yelled out, to anyone who would listen. He expected a smart-ass reply from Jet but got none. Spike shrugged. He stood up, stretching his long lean body. He pulled his yellow shirt over his bare chest and made his way to the cockpit. Jet was sitting in the pilot's seat, mumbling to either himself or to the ratty map in his hand.
"Gas?" Spike asked simply, already knowing the answer.
Jet grunted in reply.
"What are we gonna do?"
Jet grunted again.
"What are we, cave men now?" Spike said, grinning.
"Not in the mood, Spike," Jet grunted finally
A high pitched voice sounded in the distance, startling both men. Spike let out a long sigh when he realized its owner. Jet just rolled his eyes.
"A girl can't even get any rest these days!"
Faye stalked right up behind Spike, shoving her way past to yell into Jet's ear. She was wearing a heavy wool robe, covering her barely-there silk night gown. She bent her head right in front of Jet's face. Her finger lifted and pointed to a spot on her head, which couldn't even be seen through the layers of purple hair.
"Look at this! This is where my head said 'Good Morning!' to the nightstand when you made your so-called landing!"
Spike fingered his own knot.
"I think mine beats yours."
She turned to him, her eyes narrowed.
"Shove it, fro boy," she hissed.
Spike threw his hands up in surrender. He knew not to get on Faye's bad side, especially not after she was woken up from her "Beauty" sleep. For a few minutes all you could hear was Faye's ranting and yelling. Spike wondered how Jet restrained himself from throwing her out a window. Or at least yelling back, But it seems that he had learned to tune Faye out. He just studied his maps, brow furrowed in concentration.
"Ah ha!" he yelled suddenly, cutting Faye off mid sentence. He pointed his thick finger to the middle of his map. It landed directly in the middle of a large desert.
"We are here," Jet said triumphantly. Spike and Faye both leaned in close examining the map. Faye snorted.
"Here is nowhere.," she said and leaned back, "We are in the middle of the fucking desert!"
"Chill out Faye," Jet snapped, "Your pessimistic attitude is starting to piss me off."
Spike chuckled but stopped as he caught Faye's elbow in his ribs.
"There is town right here," Jet said, pointing to a miniscule dot quite a ways away from the spot they were at, "Its called Richards. Its only...I say...a few hundred miles. Spike, you got gas in that Swordfish of yours? The hammerhead is all drained out."
"Hey, why didn't you ask me?" Faye chimed in.
Spike thought for a second.
"I'm pretty sure I have some...but its not much."
Faye waved her hands around in the air.
"Hheeelllloo!" she yelled, "Why don't you try and ask me!"
"Would it be enough to get to Richards?" Jet asked.
"I'm talking here!" yelled Faye.
"It's probably enough to get there but won't be enough to get back." Spike went on.
Faye stomped her feet.
"Why doesn't someone ask me if I want to go!"
"FAYE!" Jet yelled loudly causing her to jump, startled with his sudden harsh tone, "You don't have any fucking gas in your ship cause I saw Spike stealing it all!"
Spike laughed nervously as Faye turned on him slowly.
"You stole all my gas...." she leaned close to Spikes face, he turned away but she grabbed him by his chin and forced him to look at her.
"Y-y-ou didn't have that much anyway...." Spike chuckled.
"I paid for the gas out of my own money! I didn't even raid Jet's emergency cash fund like I normally do! That was my own money!!" Faye thundered.
"SHUT THE HELL UP!" Jet roared, "SPIKE! Get in you ship and get the fuck out of here! Faye, go somewhere and stop bitching! I need some fucking peace and quiet so can I can figure out how to fix this heap of junk!!"
Jet leaped out of his seat, shoving the map into Spikes arms then storming out of the room muttering to himself. Something about children and bullets. Faye stuck her nose in the air.
"Well, get a move on, Fro boy! I don't want to be in this hellhole any longer then I have to," she turned on her heel, and walked out of the room as if she was the fucking Queen of England. Spike rolled his eyes. He examined the map. Richards had to be at least 500 miles away. Hopefully his ship would make it there. There was only one way to find out.
***
Spike pushed the Swordfish II faster and harder. He could feel it starting to vibrate as it searched for fuel to burn. It had to be running on fumes at the moment. But he was so close. He could see the small town in the distance but it was still far off. If his ship gave out on him now, he would be walking to Richards. The heat of the Jupiter desert probably would kill him off first. The low fuel light began to blink as his ship started to shake violently. He was almost there.
"Come on." Spike mumbled to his ship as he struggled to remain in control, "Just a few more miles. You can make it...come on...."
He could make out the buildings, he could see the people, soon he could make out street signs. He slowed down, landing softly on the rough terrain. As soon as the wheels hit the ground, The Swordfish II sputtered, and died. Spike climbed out of his ship, giving it a little pat.
"Good job." He smiled. He looked around and his smile started to fall. He landed on the outskirts of what had to be Richards. It was a little shab of a town. It looked like something out of one of those vintage western movies. The town was strangely busy for its size. People walked back and forth, talking and laughing loudly. Very shady looking characters. People Spike even didn't want to mess with. But they didn't notice him as he walked about; he kept his head low, just in case. He searched the area for ships. Where there were ships, there had to be a fuel station. He spotted a large group of ships at the other end of the town. A large sign stuck up from the middle of the mass. It read "Fuel". Spike walked a little quicker. This was a not a place he wanted to stay any longer then he had too. He made his way though the maze of ships and found the small station right in middle. He rushed inside and to the clerk's desk. He was an older man, heavy set, wearing a stained white t-shirt that was way to short and tight. He sat on a stool, fanning himself; his eyes seemed focused on the air. Spike cleared his throat; the man did not look at him.
"Um...How much fuel?" Spike asked loudly to get the mans attention.
"Ain't got no fuel," the man responded, eyes still fixed on nothing.
"This is a fuel station, right?"
"Ain't got no fuel. Sold out. Busy time a year. Lotsa bounty hunters. Spect you one too. Ain't got no fuel," The man fell silent and still, except for his small fan moving back and forth. Spike cleared his throat again.
"Could you direct me to the nearest fuel station then?" he asked.
The man stopped fanning himself. He leaned himself forward as far as he could, his eye seemed to be looking through Spike rather then at him.
"Ain't no other fuel station for 3,000 miles. That's why the place so damn crowded. Most hunters ain't got no where to go until the next shipment of fuel come in."
"When will that be?"
"November."
Spike slammed his hands on the desk.
"But its June!" he yelled. A smile slowly crept onto the mans face.
"I know."
He leaned back and began to laugh heartily as if he just heard the funniest joke ever written.
"I spect you best make yo'self at home, cowboy!"
***
The man was still laughing well after Spike was outside. What the hell was he going to do now? They would be stuck till fucking November. Spike could only be grateful that he wasn't on the Bebop with that bitch on wheels. He considered calling Jet and telling him what the deal was, but he didn't feel like hearing Jet screaming in his ears. Not like this was his fault anyway. He lit a much needed cigarette and walked back outside the jungle of space ships and back into the bustling town. He guessed he should find a place to stay. Maybe get something to eat. Make himself at home. He walked down the main road, not really knowing where he was going. Just hoping he bumped into something familiar. Something caught his eye, a blue neon sign flashing on and off. It read "Hearth-throb Saloon." Spike scratched his head.
"Saloon means bar, right?" he muttered to himself. He shrugged, and walked in side. It was almost like walking back in time. It was a small crowded place. There was a long wooden bar counter and the rest of the room was filled with small wooden tables and stools. It was a rather plain room, except for the lively characters that filled it. Strong, burly, dangerous looking men drank and played cards while beautiful women in tight clothing stood over them smoking their slim cigarettes. Spike was careful not to make eye contact with anyone. He took a vacant seat at the bar and the bartender came to serve him almost immediately. He had slicked down black hair and a face as red as a lobster. Maybe his stiff white collar and starched black vest was cutting off the circulation to his face.
"Whadja have?"
Spike thought for a minute.
"Scotch." he said after the short pause. The bartender served the scotch quickly and rushed off soon to wait on the bars other inhabitants. Spike took a small sip of the amber liquid, rolling it around in his mouth before swallowing it. He tried to figure out how to break the news to Jet without him getting to upset. Maybe he could just blurt it out in one sentence then hang up? That would work until November when he'd have hell to pay when he showed up. Spike was lost so deep in his thoughts, he didn't realize the woman as she sat down next to him until he heard her voice.
"Can I have a water, please."
The bartender gave her a crooked look.
"A water???"
"Do you serve White Wine? Or perhaps Olive Martinis?" she asked with a large dose of annoyance in her voice. The bartender put his lobster like hands on the counter, sighing deeply.
"This is a saloon. Not one of them fancy smancy bars you got in them big cities." he said, sounding equally annoyed
"Then give me a fucking water and quit your bitching."
Spike felt the hesitation. He heard the careless sloshing of water and a glass being slammed on the counter, half its contents being spilled over. The bartender stormed away. Spike looked up at the woman for the first time. She raised a slender hand and grasped the glass. She raised it to her lips and took a long gulping drink. She lowered the glass, wiping her moist mouth, dry. She slowly turned her head, till her eyes met Spikes. She smiled a bit. Her skin was an olive tone. She had wild midnight hair entangling its way down her back. Her large almond shaped eyes were a dazzling hazelnut color. They sparkled as she smiled. She was beautiful. But not like the other women in the room. She wasn't sleazy beautiful. She had an elegance to the very way she smiled and sipped her cup. She was young, no more then 22 or 23 years old. She wore a tight knee length black skirt with a tight short cut black top with a long black trench coat draped over her shoulders. Diamond studs sparkled in her ears. She looked strangely familiar, but Spike shook the thought from his head. This was the type of girl you remembered. She opened her mouth and spoke to Spike.
"Can't stand cheap hard liquor. Water is better if you are trying to live healthy anyway.."
Spike smirked at her.
"Depends on what your definition of healthy living is."
She chuckled low and sexy.
"I'm guessing we have different opinions on that."
She took another sip of her water. Spike sipped his Scotch. They sat in silence for a few moments. Both seeming to have a lot on their minds. She turned to him spoke again first.
"So what brings you to this hellhole?" she asked.
"Misfortune."
"Oh, you to?" she turned away, flipping her hair, "I think that's the only reason why anyone ever comes here."
"Lots of people stay, though I see." he pointed out.
"Only if they have no place else to go."
There was a twinge of sadness to her voice. Spike was curious. Why would a girl like her be in a place like this? He had a gut feeling that she normally wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this. He wanted to ask but at the same time he didn't want to intrude. He wanted to keep the conversation going though.
"Passing through?" he asked.
"I don't have anywhere to pass on too." she replied. Spike looked over her. She had her elbow on the counter with her chin resting in her hand. Her other fingers were circling the top of her glass. She was staring off into the distance. Spike was hesitant, but he asked anyway.
"Why is that?"
She looked at him, eyes were wide. He felt he made a mistake in asking.
"Its a long and crooked story, that I won't bore you with." She said, "You know how these things go. I start off trying to tell one story and by the days over you know every important event that happened to me from birth to now. I will spare you from having to pity me."
"Mysterious. I like that," Spike said looking into his glass and smiling at the scotch.
"You seem mysterious your self," she grinned at him again.
"I do it to get girls," Spike said, chuckling, "I once read that mystery is sexy."
"You must be a super model then." she said, he could tell she almost immediately regretted it. She turned away, briefly. Spike noticed the little red tint in her cheeks. She looked back, straight into his eyes. He lowered them.
"I once read that you can tell a lot about a person from their eyes," she spoke softly, "That is probably why I haven't been able to get a really good look at yours."
Spike's smile slowly faded, he didn't look up, just sat there staring into his glass.
"That's because my eyes tell to much," he said and gulped down the last of the glasses contents. the bartender refilled his glass almost immediately, but not making any move to refill the woman's half-empty water glass. He could feel her staring at him, but he didn't want to look up. They sat in silence again. Spike heard her finish off the last of her glass.
"So, why are you really here? What kind of misfortune have you had?" she asked him quietly. Spike hesitated.
"I look more like I belong here then you do." he said, avoiding the question, "Why in earth are you here.?" he looked up at her, briefly, before looking back down.
"Why would you think that?"
"Well, according to the type of people I've seen here. You should be dressed like..." Spike turned, he pointed to the first woman he saw, "Her."
The woman would better be described as a girl. No older then 17. She was wearing a leather mini skirt, Thigh high boots, and tight low-cut leather halter top that her large breasts were almost popping out of. She obviously just won a poker game, as she was standing and leaning over the table pulling in her winnings. The table were full of men who seemed more interested in her shirt then what looked like the millions of Woolongs they just lost.
"I have a feeling they are letting her win," Spike said. The woman covered her mouth and laughed at his joke.
"So you mean I should be some low class sleaze," she said turning back around. "How do you know I'm not?"
"Because your to -" Spike wasn't really sure what he was going to say.
"Because I'm to beautiful?" she said, smiling at him. A smile crept slowly across his face. That's exactly what he was thinking.
"Not the first time I've heard that," she said, laughing, "I'm flattered you think of me highly like that."
Spike didn't respond. He just picked up his glass, took another sip.
"Excuse me, bartender," the woman called out. Spike looked at her, even though she wasn't speaking to him. The bar tender had wandered to the other end of the counter and was involved with idle chitchat with a older looking gentlemen. The woman banged loudly on the counter with her water glass. The bartender glanced behind his shoulder, then turned back to the older man.
"HEY!" she yelled loudly, "I'm talking to you!"
The flustered bartender rushed over to her.
"Woman, I suggest you keep that racket down!"
She held out her glass, smiling sweetly.
"Could you gimmie a refill, please?"
The bartender leaned his lobster hands on the counter.
"No refills on water."
"And why not?"
"Cause I said so."
"You're just mad cause you can't charge me for it."
"I can charge you for anything I want. I suggest if you want to keep that spot you better get a real drink. I got paying customers who will want that seat!"
"You can't make me go anywhere."
"Like hell I cain't! Unlike everyone else in this here town, I don't give a damn who your daddy was-"
Obviously the man had hit a nerve. There was a loud crash as the water glass collided with the opposite wall. Before Spike even realized it, the woman had the bartender by his collar, a switchblade pressing into his neck, already drawing blood.
"Don't you ever mention my father again you pathetic piece of shit," She hissed in his ear. "Or I will kill you."
The bartender gulped hard. His eyes looked around fearfully, resting on Spike briefly. Spike had no intention of doing anything. He was in a bit of shock. This was almost a different woman then the one he was talking to a few seconds ago. The sweet smile was now replaced by an blood thirsty sneer. Her sparkling eyes were now cold and hard. It was as almost if she was a real Jekyll and Hyde.
"You wouldn't dare," the bartender chocked out.
"Wanna bet?" she said with pure venom, "No one would care. No one is even watching us now are they?"
Spike looked behind him. It was true. No one was watching them. They all drank their beers, played their games. No one paid attention to the crazy woman holding a knife to a mans throat.
"I'd slit your throat, then leave you to rot in the sun. You know its true. And I'd get away scott free."
She pressed the knife harder. Blood trickled down his neck. She leaned in close.
"Scott free," she whispered. She drew herself back quickly, loosening her grip on the man. "Now" she said almost non-chalantly, "Is there anything you have to say?"
The bartender swallowed hard. He was visibly shaking by now and sweat was streaming down his face. His bottom lip quivered as he tried to get out the words.
"C-c-c-can I get y-y-you any-t-t-thing?" he squeezed his eyes shut as if he thought she was going to plunge the knife in right then and there. But a small smile spread across her face. Then the return of her angelic innocent features.
"Why yes, I'd like another water please. And another drink for my friend here," she motioned to Spike with her head, "On the house."
She released the man. He feel to the floor but was quickly back on his feet.
"Yes' am," he stuttered and he quickly served her a new glass of water and sat Spike's scotch down before running off. The woman sat back down, looking quite proud of herself as she sipped her water. Spike stared at her blankly before reaching for his fresh glass of scotch.
"Guess I fit in her a little more then you think," she said quietly. Spike knew when he was wrong.
"Ran out of gas." he said, raising his glass. She turned to him.
"Pardon me?" she said, confused.
"You asked me what kind of misfortune I had," he paused as he sipped his drink, "I ran out of gas."
Spike didn't notice the girl slowly lowering her eyes and biting her lower lip. She said nothing. Just turned back to the counter. She reached for her glass, but it shattered before her hand could even grasp it. She yelped, pulling back her hand. The whole bar had gone quiet. Spike slowly turned in his stool to look where everyone else was facing. A man stood in the doorway. He was middle aged, his brown hair cut in a short army like hair cut. He wore a black suit and black sunglasses, a gun in his outstretch hand.
"I think you know what this is about," he said, looking directly at the woman next to Spike.
"Shit...." she cursed quietly as two more identical men joined the other man in the doorway. Spike could see her trying to contain her fear but the sweat on her forehead was giving her away. She gritted her teeth and tilted her head up before slowly rising out of her stool.
"Yes, I do," she said calmly. In a quick movement she had grabbed Spike by the hand and leaped over the bar counter, pulling him with her. The firing had began immediately. Spike winced as he watched the bullets pierce the wall above his head. He could hear people in the bar screaming as they ran out of the path of the bullets.
"What the hell is going on!?" Spike asked, half yelled, at the woman. She wasn't paying any attention to him. She had pulled a silver pistol out of her coat and was currently loading it. Mrs. Hyde has returned.
"Get ready," she said to him. She grabbed his hand again, taking off from behind the counter. She fired a few quick shots, catching two of the men off guard. Her and Spike bolted out the door and made their way through the crowd of people standing outside the bar. No one tried to stop them. They even stepped to the side to let them pass. Spike looked behind him to see the path closing in front of the black clad man that had been in hot pursuit. His fellow bounty hunters, obviously giving him a helping hand. He looked to see where she was dragging him. Her hand was clenched around his wrist, as she heaved her way through the crowd at a high speed. She ducked into an alley, startling Spike. She stopped so suddenly ,Spike stumbled and almost feel to the ground. She stopped, resting her hand on her hips trying to catch her breath.
"Not easy...running....in platform boots," she said between breaths. She smiled a bit but her smile fell when she saw the furious look Spike had on his face.
"What the hell was that about!?" Spike yelled, throwing his arms up in the air in anger, "What the fuck is going on???? You almost got me killed!"
She glanced at the ground quickly, as if she was ashamed of something.
"I don't think you even want to know."
She ran her hand through her hair and leaned against the wall. She stood up straight suddenly.
"Take me with you," she said. The shock was readable on Spikes face.
"What?" he said, not sure what he was hearing. She walked up close to him, putting her hands together in front of her.
"Please. I didn't think they would find me here. I was sure this would be the last place they would think I'd be. They must be trailing me better then I thought. I need somewhere to go. Somewhere they don't know of." she said, her eyes burned into Spikes.
"They can't look for me somewhere they don't know exists."
Spike went with his first thought.
"Hell no! You are way to much trouble. God knows, I have enough of that."
Spike started to walk away, but she caught his wrist in that same strong grip.
"You can't go anywhere without me," she said seriously. He wrenched his hand out of her grip violently.
"Threats aren't going to get you anywhere." he spat at her. He really didn't take well to being threatened.
"Its not a threat!" she yelled back at him, "Its the truth." She brushed a stray strand of hair out of her face, a know-it-all smile crossing her lips.
"That gas station," she started, "Hasn't had gas in about 6 years."
Spike's eyes widened.
"The clerk told me they were getting a shipment in November!" he sound angrily. She scoffed. "Who, Stan?" she laughed a bit, "That man is as crazy as they come. They stopped shipping him fuel when he started believing he didn't have to pay for it."
Spike wasn't hearing this right. No gas meant he was stuck there. And Jet and Faye would sit in the desert and starve.
"I'll take you to the next town. Get your gas and take you back to your ship. You just have to give me that one favor."
Spike's brain raced, trying to find his other options.
"I'm sure that I can find someone willing to take me to the next town for a few Woolongs rather then a boarding pass," Spike said, he turned to walk out of the alley but Rose caught his wrist again.
"You can't go out there," she said half panicked, "They've seen you with me. They'll kill you if they see you hanging around."
Spike wrenched himself out of her grip again.
"Well, that's just great!" he yelled, "I just meet you 20 minutes ago, and you already have men out trying to kill me!"
"Its not my fault," she said irritated, "But if you just get me off this damn planet, you won't have anything to worry about."
Spike let out and exasperated breathe, scratching his head. He turned to away from the girl, to the opposite wall. There were no other options. He turned back to her.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"What?" she said, confused.
"I want to know your name."
She raised her eyebrows, then smiled.
"Rosemary," she said sweetly, "But everyone calls me Rose."
***
The Swordfish soared smooth and high the air, the bright sun glittering on the shiny hull. The gas tank was full. It even got a good scrub down. He was on his way back to the bebop with enough fuel to travel to Pluto and back, about 30 times. Jet would be pleased about that, if nothing else. Maybe he would be so happy that Spike got the gas so quickly that he wouldn't mind the new baggage. The baggage named Rosemary.
"Damn, Jet and Faye will NOT be happy."
