Okay. Hi to all the people that are fans and to you new comers, welcome. This was originated to be a one Chapter one-shot but it got way to long for one Chapter and had to extend it into two, possibly three.

I will need to warn all of you, that this does have its 'lemon' and if you're not old enough and want to be immature about it, I suggest you leave this story alone. Also I give a warning to those religious people out there that respects and goes to church every Sunday, do not sue me and if you get offended, well, you have been warned.

Speaking about suing, do not sue me because I do not own Cowboy Bebop nor its Character's, I only own this story and it graphics.

Please enjoy.

Memories of an Ill Comfort Part 1

They say that 'the real reason it rains is because they are the tears of angels' or so I read from one of those books that has famous poems and quotes from famous people. Honestly, what I think is that that quote is absolutely true. It hasn't proven to be wrong yet anyways. Every time it rains, it's something that went wrong, a sin has been committed and everyone that is involved in that sin, if they intended to be or not, they always have to suffer for it or pay the price, so the angels cry for us, especially the one's who didn't do no wrong. I mean, what did I really do to deserve this? What horrible crime did I do in my past to wake up one day not knowing anything and live off on the streets just so I can pay off my dept's and never knowing how I got them. Yes, of course I've done horrible things just for me to get by, but only god could judge me for that. Right? I've never hurt or murdered anyone, especially never doing such things to myself. Even if I did do such things, I didn't mean to. I never meant to hurt anybody, including me.

This thought is what makes me be in my room at this moment. I lie on my bed sulking on about the last couple of days and the sin I believe I have done. I ask myself over and over, 'Is it a sin to be blind to the truth?' and it hurts to think that it is indeed a sin.

Though I have no windows in my room, I could still hear the rain shatter and scatter around the outside metal of this god forsaken ship. It's actually poring out there and it's as if any moment the shards of rain will go right through the ceiling and walls, and soon to go through me as well.

I wish it did. It would stab through me and I will feel no pain, and the best thing of all is that nobody would care.

My room is in complete darkness right now, just the way I like it, and the only light I can see is the red glow on my radio that read three o'clock. Even though I've been in my room for hours, I know what part of day it is. I know its three in the afternoon because I could hear Jet cooking in the kitchen, then I hear his footsteps in the hall, stop at my door, stay there for a moment then go back in the kitchen to cook and the same process has been like that for a couple of hours now. And it's been like that for three days. The last time I've been out of my room is when I brought Spike back and to treat his wounds. It's been three damn days.

Three days since Spike has been unconscious on that old couch.

Three days since the incident at the cathedral.

Three days since I last seen him, and those eyes. Those piercing icy cold eyes.

It's been three days since I lost the thing I cherish most about me….

My pride.

The memory of him gives me shivers down my back. His eyes were so cold, just the way my body feels right now. Cold. Even my blankets can't warm me. And my tears now, feels cold as ice as its running down the side of my left cheek and the bridge of my nose. I've been lying on my side, staring into nothingness, and I can't even imagine how cold the rain is outside.

My tears, what's the reason for it? I don't know why I'm even crying in the first place. Crying is for the weak, especially for a woman. It shows that she needs depending on, and I'm anything but that. If the boys see me now, they would think different of me. They would pity me, and I don't want that, not now and not ever.

I am independent, I have my needs and sometimes I get the thing I want if I'm lucky. I'm living life an adventure at times. Heck, I'm living period, and I 'should' be grateful for it.

So why am I crying? Who am I shedding these tears for? Whatever the effects are for, the cause of it all is because of him… The one with those viciously cold eyes.

Vicious.

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I could remember Jet telling me to mind my own business, and like always, I don't listen to the advice. I knew it was something to do with Spike's past, but I thought little of it because there were bigger things about the bounty, like the size of the reward for example. It was definitely a dangerous mission but it was one reward to help me keep going in life and hopefully off of this damn ship.

Spike already left to go find his resources, so I was going to do mine. It didn't take long for me to find Mao Yenrai though. It was in a music hall, some old fashion opera that only the affluent kind of people go to. It wasn't really my thing to attend to but it's where I will get my own assets at. What I didn't expect was the invitation I received, and by a bounty that was completely worthless because he was already dead.

I was actually scared and I had no clue how to get myself out of this one. This was not part of my little deal. I was suppose to find bounty, catch bounty, get the reward and live on being happy with the reward. Instead, I find bounty, have a gun behind my back and sit silently throughout the show and who knows what's to happen next. I always hated surprises but I knew I was to get one more.

"You're trembling."

I heard the very low raspy voice say to me. It made me froze to the core. I couldn't breath, it felt like time has all stopped, and death was lurking behind me and as if it was teasing me. I became brave enough though to look at the man who said that to me.

He had the most interesting profile though or at least half of what I really expected. He was tall, like Spike and probably all body structure too. He had silver hair that flowed down just barely touching his shoulders, and though I couldn't see his face all to well behind that curtain of hair, I could see the detail of his arched nose, and the evil grim that was starting to spread into a more wicked smile. Then I saw those eyes, and that's what scared me even more, was the fact his eyes showed absolutely nothing at all.

"Who are you, tell me." I asked with fear in my voice. My guard was dropped and I let this man see it all happen, but he still showed no interest of it ever happening.

"Vicious" he said.

Vicious. That was the name of a man that was going to end my life. I knew this was going to be the end of everything for me. He was like a demon that was going to take lives brutally, or a devil, no he is the devil.

Religious beliefs don't think as the devil with thorns on his head with a tail on his back and his skin a bright red. They believe the devil is a very beautiful man that no women can resist and he can show such respect and confidence to himself that every man wish he could dream to be. And Vicious is a perfect example to that. He was pretty scary, but in a very attractive kind of way.

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We finally reached the limo he had out waiting for us, and the way it looked inside, it seemed like he was expecting me to come from the very start.

It was dark with burgundy leather seats, a dim romantic-kind of light and there was champagne. It was a bit weird and disturbing to me. If he was expecting Spike to show up, and if Vicious had this romantic scenery, then does that make Spike...

NO WAY...Spike couldn't be-

I was stuck with my thoughts about exactly who Spike was, is giving me another unnecessarily headache.

"So Miss Valentine, is there reasons why Spike couldn't make this one bounty hunt." Vicious said.

He took me out of my weary thoughts when I heard his voice and it took a moment to register to what he said.

"I have no clue why Spike didn't come for the bounty, probably got mixed up with something more important." I said as calm and easy going as I can be. The last thing I wanted this man to sense on me was my fear. So I acted like he meant nothing to me at all, which he didn't mean a damn thing to me, except that he may be the death of me, but other than that...not a damn thing.

"What can be more important to him right now?" Vicious asked or more of a demand it sounded like.

I had to make a grunt because of the question but I tried not to make it sound like Vicious was some kind of joke, because when I stared back at him, not even the slightest bit of humor was coming from him.

"Who knows, he keeps his life and his problems to himself. I know nothing about what he does or who he see's." I added that last part to see if I 'can' get a reaction out of him, but to no surprise, he wasn't interested in what that part meant.

"Does he know about your well being?"

"He can give two shits about me. He wouldn't care. Actually he wouldn't mind if I was away from him." Okay, maybe I gave him too much information about the kind of relationship I have with Spike. I wasn't even hearing my own words come out of my mouth because when Vicious asked me that question, it seemed like he had the slight sound of concern. And when I told him what I mean to Spike, he kinda looked surprised...yet how can that be? None of his muscles on his face moved, no raising the eyebrows, no agape mouth, no grin on his mouth, but somehow I knew his reaction to my answer.

"Um excuse me sir, but...well don't take this the wrong way, but why do you want Spike? What did you have in mind when or if you saw him?" I asked carefully without offending the guy.

He didn't answer me; instead he turned away from me. Now, I know it probably isn't my business, especially in these two men's lives, but one thing I can't stand is being ignored. If anything he could have said 'it wasn't my business' but I don't like my questions to just hang there. I already half expected for my life to end any moment now, but I was persistent to push it even farther. So I asked him again but with more of an upper tone.

"What do you want with him Vicious?"

When I said his name, he turned his head towards me and for the first time I saw emotion in his face. Surprised. He looked that way, probably because no one else used that kind of tone towards him. He was the boss, and no one should question him. Or maybe he was surprised because the seriousness I had in my voice and it showed on my face and there were no signs of regret in asking him such questions and demanding them to be answered. I actually surprised myself with my bravery.

"What is your name Miss. Valentine?" he asked.

Why is he trying to change the subject? He was giving me that tic in my brain. The one that knows how to get my nerves to tickle and shows up on the side of your forehead.

"I won't answer your question until you answer mine." I snapped at him. I know I was setting up my own death wish, because I could see his jaw begin to tighten at my sudden out burst.

He began to shift in his seat to get a more comfortable position so he can have better view of me. When he did this though, light touched his face and I saw a much better view of him. I was right about him being very attractive, but he also looked old aged, as if he already lived his good years, even though I kinda suspected him to be about Spike's age. He had no signs of old age, but had the lines under his eyes as if he had no sleep for months, his skin was even more paler than mine, and his eyes looked...I really couldn't explain it, but it was something depressing. It was distant sad, and...Longing to have something.

I didn't realized how long I've been staring into them, but I finally looked away when the limo turned to a complete stop. I finally came back to reality when the driver announced "we're here."

"We're here where?" I asked looking out into the window. I looked out to see an old abandon cathedral over us.

"It's my most favorite place Miss. Valentine. It's the only place you can ask for forgiveness." Vicious said with the same emotionless tone as he scooted me over out of the vehicle.

Great. Now I know Vicious 'can' be sarcastic, and he does have a sense of humor not to mention a sick humor. There is no better place to die than at a church at the hands of the devil himself. It really put's my faith into doubt.

Note: Okay, I'm going to stop it right there and be up with the next Chapter and believe me it will have its lemon.