That's me in the spotlight
Losing my Religion...
...Oh no, I've said too much
I haven't said enough...
...I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try...
The circle door to the main hall opened, and Jet stooped to enter. He was holding a paper bag, and cans and other foodstuffs were poking out. He had the biggest grin a man of his size could put on, and a bounce in his step to match it.
"Spike! Faye! Ed! You'll never guess what I got!" He yelled, as he strutted into the vacant kitchen. "Hmph. Where the hell is everyone? The one time I get us some free grub, and no one's here to appreciate it. Oh well. Their loss." He began to unpack the food onto the counter when he noticed markings all along the counter. Like bare skin had been on them. But these certainly weren't handprints. They looked more like...
"RUMP ROAST! PRIME CUT, BEST IN TOWN! GET IT HERE AT AL'S." The yelling man had been trying to sell his meat all day. He had a couple buyers, but he barely had enough money to buy a nice pair of pants. Spike watched him from the window of the hotel, with a smirk. He leaned against the window sill and scratched his bare chest. The city below him was busy enough, it was, after all, Saturday in the Bazaar. He looked back into his dimly lit room. His 'partner-in-crime' was still in the world of dreams, with a gentle smile across their face. He pushed himself off of the window and walked into the middle of the room, where his clothes were strewn about. He didn't remember them moving around that much, but sure enough, his shirt and overcoat were in one corner, and his pants were running a mock-marathon on the floor almost all the way across the room. He leaned down and picked up his coat. He had 3 cigarettes left. He's have to buy some more before he went back to the Bebop.
Shit. He did have to go back. When he looked down at the mass in the bed, he realized how much he didn't want to leave. He had learned a lot he didn't know about the other person the night before, and didn't want it to be a one night stand. They deserved much more. Maybe Jet would let him bring this lost traveler aboard. They had certainly proved themselves quite the gunman.
Besides, he thought, it'd be nice to have someone else who smokes on board. Oh well, it was just wishful thinking. Jet would never let him bring someone like that aboard. We did let Faye on though, and Ed invited herself on. What's one more? He looked at his prize, still splayed across the bed, tangled in sheets. He sighed, took a drag from his cigarette, and began to get dressed. He bent down to pick up his pants and noticed a bulky package underneath the bed. He got down on his hands and knees, and crawled to the side of the bed to pull out the item in question. Getting a closer look at it, it had to be as long as the bed. A good 7 feet, standing up. He pulled it out. It was covered in a tarp and maybe 20 belts, or maybe one big long length of leather. He silently chuckled as he realized what shape it was. That would explain the cufflinks, he thought. But this was no ordinary Man of the Word. Spike hopped up and found his friend's clothes, which seemed to be in one place. He reached into the back pocket of the pants and pulled out the wallet. a few hundred woolongs, a frequent buyer card from Antonio's Firearms Shop, and an ID. Pretty good picture, as he thought of his ID, which had a picture of him mid-sneeze on it. He checked the name.
"Well, it's been quite the night," Spike started, taking the money from the wallet and dropping it to the floor. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got supplies to buy." He had come to this planet with the intent to buy groceries, but the bar was much too tempting for a drinker of Spike's level. He had spent all 500 Woolongs there. Well spent though, he thought, buttoning up his shirt. The sheets stirred. He better get going. He had got to the door, and was turning the knob when he heard the voice that had yelled his name last night, more than a few times.
"Morning," he heard said with a yawn from behind him. "Where are you going?"
Spike stopped and turned with the best smile he could put on at 8 in the morning. "Uhh...Just to get some coffee. You want any?" He heard him get out of bed, and walk to the window like Spike had. Just as Spike had, he heard the tell tale sound of flint, and the sudden stink of tobacco strengthen. "Sure. I take it like my men. Sweet and White." Spike had to laugh at that. He was anything but sweet, but if it meant him getting away with an extra 500 Woolongs, he'd be the sweetest guy in the galaxy. "Great. I'll be back in 5 minutes." "Just tell them to put it on my tab, I've got a nice one running down there."
2 minutes later, Spike was at the coffee machine, but he was only pouring one cup of coffee. He could be out of there in another minute, and back on the Bebop in 20. It was all too good to be true. He made his way through the busy room to the bar. "Hey, barkeep, can you put this on a tab?" He asked, raising the cup for the overweight jolly looking fellow to see.
"Sure. What's the name?"
"Nicholas D. Wolfwood."