by Now With More Fiber
His appreciation for fine bourbon, however, had not faded.
Watching the crowd ebb and flow past the windows, he sipped quietly. Aimless
thoughts floated like lazy clouds through his brain. I wonder if this place
is going to close at all tonight… it's been so long since I've had honest-to-god
Tennessee bourbon from Earth … cost a fortune … what is that girl dressed as?
A mouse or a cat? I can't tell …
The bartender eyed him as he drained his short glass. "You want another?"
Jet sighed and smiled. "My wallet says no, but my mouth says yes."
He fumbled for another 1000 uron note.
"Best in the house," the bartender said as he poured another two fingers.
"I had to pull a few strings to get it. Shipments from Earth are so rare,
and now… kaput. The distillery where they make this stuff got smacked by a meteor
three weeks ago." He slid the glass back in front of Jet.
"Now that's a crying shame."
"Damn right it is." The bartender leaned in closer, grinning. "Although…
I saved three bottles in my apartment. Wonder what they'll be worth in five
years, eh?"
Jet chuckled softly and took a small sip, letting the rich amber flavor linger
on his tongue.
His eye twitched as he stared disconsolately at the empty glass of scotch before
him. The bartender was hurrying about, filling glasses for various girls of
various reputations in various costumes, which flattered them to varying degrees.
Most of them glared needles at Faye, who sat perched atop a barstool, resplendent
in a red vinyl she-devil costume. The air around her practically shimmered;
her (ample) bare skin nearly sizzled. Three goofy-looking fellows flanked her,
simultaneously spouting different stories. Faye pulled the cocktail pick out
of the glass and put her lips around one of the olives.
She's good. She's really good. I've got to at least give her that. Spike
glanced back down at his empty glass, and his temper rose a notch. He raised
the glass and slammed it down atop the bar with a loud "clink".
"Hey, barkeep! I asked you ten minutes ago…"
The bartender gave her a dull look, then smiled impishly and leaned towards
her ear. "You know, I hate it when chicks try to pull that act," he
whispered as softly as he could over the din, "but you in that costume"
- he whistled softly - "just being here, you've brought me so many tips
from these dorks, I figure I might even owe you one."
Spike raised his refilled glass in a mock toast. She's really, really good.
Faye tipped her fourth new martini in his direction, grinned, and winked.
And... she's really, really drunk. Spike sighed. Well, whatever happens,
happens.
The world blurred and swam. Jet rubbed his temple. Shit… I'm too old for
this. When did I get so old? It can't be past midnight. His eyelids felt
heavy, and his brain hummed from the whiskey. Sighing heavily, he resigned himself
to feeling very out of place. I guess it's time for this old man to go home
and sleep it off. He yawned so wide and long that his jaw nearly popped.
"C'mon, let's get out of here," Spike said, gesturing towards the
door with his thumb. "We're gonna miss the best part of the whole party."
She blinked twice, then nodded, her head bobbing back and forth. "Good
idea. 'S'place's getting boring anyhow." Hopping up from her barstool with
surprising agility, she took a couple of careful steps to the door.
"Thanks again," called the bartender. She blew him a kiss.
"Man, you're totally gone," Spike muttered, trying not to laugh.
"No'm not," she replied indignantly, walking unsteadily ahead of him
on high stiletto heels... wondering why there were two sidewalks shifting in
front of her. "Oh, damn...wait..." Her left heel wobbled, and she
began to slip sideways. Spike reached out and took her arm, just managing to
break her fall. The pair landed on the pavement with a dull THUD.
"Owwww, dammit...." Faye squinted and rubbed the side of her thigh.
Spike hefted her back up to her feet, none too steady himself.
Suddenly, the streets rang with the sound of bells and gongs. "It's midnight,"
he said with a smile.
"So?" Faye blinked.
Before he could answer, her eyes were dazzled by a burst and shower of silver
and magenta sparks. Overhead, enormous fireworks began blossoming in rapid succession,
filling the sky with color and smoke.
Her mouth fell open as she stared upwards.
"You look like a little kid," Spike said.
"I... I love fireworks. Aren't they pretty?"
"Yeah," he answered, "though I gotta admit, I like the smell
of the gunpowder smoke the best."
She giggled. "You would." Spike smiled with her.
Faye swayed on her feet. Spike lit a cigarette. She begged one off him. The
scotch had made him charitable, so they smoked together on the sidewalk, gazing
up towards the blazing Martian sky.
"They look like... umbrellas 'r flowers... I can' decide..." Faye
said blearily, leaning against a streetlamp.
"Dandelions on fire," Spike stated with a grin.
She laughed childishly, and swayed back and forth. He steadied her again. Her
head tipped forward, then lolled to her side.
"Geez, Faye... how much did you have, anyway?"
"Didn' keep count." A brilliant gold arc burst overhead. She jerked
her head upwards to see, and nearly fell.
Spike grimaced. "You better get back on the Bebop and go to bed."
"Sounds good," she mumbled, and began to totter away.
Spike put his hand to his forehead in exasperation. "You're going the wrong
way."
Faye turned around and started wobbling back towards him. He sighed. The
crap I gotta do... "Come on." He turned his back to her and hunched
down. She blinked, then smiled lazily.
"Hey... thanks..." She climbed onto his back. Her body was surprisingly
light, although the sharp points and heels of her boots and the slick vinyl
of her costume weren't exactly pleasant to the touch. She rested her head sideways
on his shoulder, facing off to his left.
Once they were off the main street, the crowd thinned considerably. Spike carried
her another block, then set her gently down to hail a passing taxi. Faye slumped
down into an awkward sitting position on the sidewalk. She'd just begun to nod
off when Spike picked her up by her shoulders and guided her into the back seat
of the cab.
"Aren' you gonna come back too?" she asked, puzzled.
"I'll be back later. I wanna see the rest of the show."
"'Well have fun, stranger...." The taxi's door fell shut between them.
*****
Jet had just drifted into an easy sleep on the long yellow couch inside the
Bebop, when Faye came stumbling through the main hatch into the soft dimness
of the livingroom.
"Oooops." Her eyes widened in exaggerated embarrassment when she saw
she'd woken him.
"Welcome back," he grumbled, turning over on the couch to face her.
Damn. Woken up by Faye Valentine in that tight red outfit. Am I still dreaming?
He smiled drily. "Nice costume." Surprised at the other cowboy's absence,
he asked, "Where's Spike? I thought he was with you."
She didn't detect the tiny prickle in his question. "Thanks. Spike says
he's coming in... later... whenever that is... so..." Slumping down onto
the seat opposite him, she began unlacing the front of her costume. "...so...
g'night..." In the low light, her fair skin seemed luminous, her full breasts
nearly spilling out of her top.
Blood rushed to Jet's face. "Uhh..."
Faye blinked quizzically, her expression clueless; unguarded.
"..Maybe you want to do that in another room." Unless you *meant*
to ...?
She looked down at her corset as if surprised to find it half-undone. "Oh...
oh yeah, thanks. Heh." She pushed herself upright and slowly stood. Running
a hand through her hair, she began wavering towards the side hatch that led
into the hall.
Jet sat up on the couch and watched her halting progress across the room. Faye
was a delicious sight in her Halloween costume, but maybe...
She yelped as her heel gave way again. The thin stiletto snapped underneath
her foot and she tumbled to the floor. Jet sprang up from the couch and rushed
to her.
"Hey!" He grabbed her shoulders. "You okay there?"
Faye pouted. "Awww, my shoe..."
"Forget the shoe. Are you hurt?"
She blinked, her eyes wide and glistening. "No, I'm fine." She reached
forward slowly, opening the long zipper that ran through red vinyl from ankle
to mid-thigh. Pulling the thigh-high boot halfway off, she briefly inspected
the broken heel, sighed, then removed it and dropped it to the floor. "So
much for that..." She unzipped and slid her long leg out of the other boot,
and spent a brief moment gazing mournfully at the pair. "Talk about a buzzkill.
And those were expensive, too."
Jet sighed. "Come on, I think you'd better get to bed." He brought
one arm underneath the crook of her knees, one around her back under her arms,
and lifted her up. I'm just doing this for her safety... Right?
"Hey, carried up like Snow White! Or would that be Sleeping Beauty?"
Faye laughed as if at a private joke, then suddenly nuzzled against his neck.
"Are you going to take me to bed?" she teased, her voice husky and
warm.
"I didn't mean like that," Jet's jaw clenched even as his face flushed.
He ducked down as he carried her through the doorway. "I'll be a perfect
gentleman."
His heart caught in his throat as Faye slipped an arm around his neck, slowly
caressing the back of his head and the underside of his jaw with her fingertips.
"But what if I don't want you to be a perfect gentleman?"
He stopped in his tracks. Faye's eyes locked onto his, smoky emerald storms
drawing him in ... No. She's just drunk. You're a fool to even hope...
"Then that's too bad," he answered, averting his gaze. Jet Black,
you damned idiot.
He winced. "Don't say that, I hate that word."
Faye shifted atop the sheets and sighed. "Say… you know that old painting…"
she began, then shut her eyes.
He paused. "Painting?"
"That castle one... Castle in the Pyrenees."
"Where the heck did you learn about something like that?" Jet
stared at her, puzzled, over his shoulder.
"I don't remem-- ... But see, there's this boulder... with this little
castle carved in the top of it... all floating up above the ocean..." She
yawned. "It's impossible... but it's kind of impossible like you are -
this strong rock in midair... that holds up this entire fairytale castle...
and... and you..." she yawned again.
"And I what?"
Faye answered with a soft snore.
*****
She woke the next morning with a searing headache and a parched mouth. Painfully
lifting her head, she found on the nightstand beside her a large glass of cool
water, and a blurry low-resolution printout of Rene Magritte's
Her brow furrowed in confusion even as she eagerly drank the water.
THE END
I really had no idea what to name this fic. It was originally called "Dandelions
on Fire" after Spike's line, but this fic isn't about Spike at all... so...
Hey, stop looking at me with those sad puppy-dog eyes!