11/20/04

Disclaimer – Cowboy Bebop is a product of Sunrise… I'm just a dorky fan with a lot of free time on her hands.

Author's Notes – Ahhh, I'm terrible! I know it, I know it! I've had all this time to work on my fics and yet I just keep coming up with all these new ideas. I'm cursed, I'm cursed!

Wufei – Actually, it sounds more like you're just lazy.

Oh shut it! ::glares at him:: You're Miss Chang Po's muse… why're you always bothering me?

Wufei - ::shrugs:: Perhaps because you had the gall to call yourself Nataku, and yet you refuse to write any fics about the glory that is me.

::crickets chirp::

Um… anyways… I finally decided to post the first chapter to the sequel to 'That's Why They Call it the Blues'… I know you guys have been waiting awhile and I decided it was high time I finally obliged you.

Miss Chang Po – My, aren't we gracious today… ::grins::

I know… aren't I? Still, keep in mind that the updates might be slow… I have to admit not only am I a bit insecure as to how this fic is going to turn out (I'm having some troubles with 'Look Me in the Eye'… I might have to put in on an indefinite hiatus… sorry!) but I'm also working on an AU Inu Yasha fanfic… along with some other ideas waiting in the wings… I'm swamped!

Miss Chang Po – In other words, you're asking everyone to be patient…

::Nataku-chan opens her mouth to speak but Wufei cuts her off:: Patience is for the weak!

…sigh… Wu-chan…

Cowboy Bebop

"Just Another Burnt-out Star"

Prologue

The pair's footsteps echoed off of the tiles and walls as they ran through the empty corridor, drowned out by the sound of a frustration-tinged voice.

"Always, always, always! It never friggin' fails!!"

There was a moment's pause, leaving only the sound of footfalls and the racing of heavy heartbeats. The silence was soon broken, however, by the sound of bullets as they hailed down around the pair's feet, sending them speeding faster down the hall.

The place was suddenly crawling with thugs intent on apprehending them for more than just 'questioning' – it was imperative to keep one eye behind them and the other straight ahead.

As if the evening hadn't been lovely enough as it was.

As the pair continued onwards, the female of the two, a brunette with sharp, attractive features, fixed her partner with an angry glance. "I don't know what it is with you… you ALWAYS manage to get us into some shit!" She muttered a few curses under her breath. "Why must every event be a life-threatening challenge with you?!"

Her partner, a lanky fellow with a slightly unusual hairstyle, merely let out a laugh at her comment as he kept his sights on the path ahead of him. Judging by his expression, it didn't seem he was the slightest bit concerned about their current situation.

Not that it could be helped really. He hadn't signed on for the job without expecting some… risks. Of course, to be completely honest, he loved the feel of adrenaline coursing through his body each time he went out. There wasn't a drug in the whole System that could compare to the high he was currently experiencing. How could he explain to her that life just wasn't any fun without a little danger mixed in?

"Y'know," he drawled. "Nobody forced you to come along, my dear." He paused before continuing in a more husky tone, giving her a look. "Although I have to admit it wouldn't have been much fun without you."

The two came to the end of the corridor, shoving their way through the wide double doors that had blocked their path. Once on the other side, they were met with a large, dark storage room filled with boxes and crates of all assortments. There was barely any time to register any of this however, before they were assaulted with another onslaught of bullets.

"Shit!" Quick to act, the woman dove behind a large crate, pulling her lanky partner along for the ride. Unfortunately, with his balance thrown off, he landed on top of her in quite the compromising position.

"Propelled, as I am, to take you up on the offer," he grinned. "This isn't the type of fun I had in mind…"

She shoved him off of her with a grunt, checking her weapon before unloading a clip into their attackers. "More fun he says…" She quickly reloaded, firing shot after shot in succession. "More fun my ass!"

He merely chuckled, following her example by emptying a load into the dark expanse of the room. "You knew the risk involved," he remarked lightly. "No one said you had to tag along."

A bullet ricocheted off the edge of their crate, causing her to duck down to avoid the shower of splinters that followed. Turning to face him, she fixed him with another harsh glare. "And have you traipsing around here by yourself? Not frickin' likely…"

"So says Miss Trigger Happy herself." He merely rolled his eyes as she responded with another glare and a rude hand gesture. It was all she could do to him really – not that she would if she could – but damn it if she didn't look all the more sexy when she was pissed.

Displeased with his lack of response – usually such a act would have earned a witty remark or two about her lack of manners (he always teased her about being unladylike) – she opened her mouth to respond as a stray bullet ripped through their crate/makeshift hiding space. A startled cry of indignation passed her lips as she rose to fire a retaliating shot stopped only by another bullet zipping by, catching her right in the gut. She let out a soft explanation of surprise, dropping back to her knees and slumping over completely.

It took a few moments for all of this to actually register in his mind. Seeing the red substance oozing from her injury at an alarming rate had caused the grin to suddenly disappear from her partner's face. The color drained from his face at the sight; he could handle the sight of blood, sure, but hers…

This was another matter entirely.

"Oh God… baby," Ignoring the hail of bullets over his head, he collected her up in his arms, barely mindful of her injury.

Her voice came out small and strained as she frowned weakly up at him. "Don't… call me… baby…"

He couldn't respond; his focus was only on her face, watching in desperation as her eyes slowly drifted shut.

"Then what happened?"

Seated at a modest, but sturdy, sitting table a woman turned towards the voice that had brought her out of her reverie. Confronted by her dark hotel room, she found herself once again distracted by the soft pit-pat coming from outside.

Not that it really mattered; it always rained this time of years on Mars. Of course, it was a bit earlier than the Terra-formation System had scheduled, but she wasn't really one to complain. The rain offered a sort of melancholic atmosphere that one just couldn't find through the sunny, balmy days on Venus where she had spent quite a few years of her life. Granted, it wasn't where you lived that determined anything; real comfort came from the company you kept.

Needless to say her days on Mars were certainly being made interesting.

"Ma…"

She found herself blinking once again, now looking down at a little boy who had seated himself in front of her. Dressed in jeans and a canary-yellow, button down shirt that was much too big for him, his face regarded her with a quirk of an eyebrow. It was expressions like this that made him resemble his father more than anything.

It was hard not to smirk at that thought. As if the brown eyes and the unusually unruly hair hadn't been indication enough…

It didn't take long for the boy to realize she wasn't about to answer him – he wasn't sure if she had drifted off again or if she was just teasing – he fixed her with an impatient pout. "Mamaaa…"

He earned an affectionate ruffling of his hair. "Yes, baby?"

His pout turned into a frown; she knew he didn't like the nickname, but then, neither had she when his father used it.

"You didn't finish the story," he moaned. "What happened to the two gangsters?"

She cringed. Where had he gotten the idea they had been gangsters? Part of her wondered whether a boy his age should be exposed to such ideas. Gangsters… She paused. Had they really been gangsters? It was so long ago that she really wasn't quite sure what term to use anymore.

'… Those times had certainly been something, hadn't they? They were easier, and not to mention… much safer.'

She glanced back at her son, crossing her arms in a chiding fashion. "Never mind what happened," she replied. "It's late and you need to get into bed." The young boy merely nodded before scrambling off in search of his pjs.

It was times like this that reminded her that theirs was a life far from ordinary - something she found to be upsetting. Unlike other children, her son was never one to argue with her about baths or bedtimes. Being that they spent so much time on the move traveling from city to city, something a simple as sleeping in an actual bed or bathing in a tub and not washing up in a public restroom was something hard to come by. When such opportunities presented themselves, you'd be a fool not to take advantage.

'How long will life go on like this…?' The woman found her mind once again wandering to the past, where life had been so much simpler. Life as a gangster, as her son had so 'graciously' put it. But then again, he didn't know it was she in the stories – she was sure never to mention…

In those days, her life had possessed some stability. She'd had a job – perhaps not a respectable one, but it paid damn well – not only that, with it came family, friends, security; back in those days, there had always been someone there watching her back, looking out for her. But now…

She shook her head firmly, forcing herself not to dwell on it. "This is the decision I made for myself… my boy…" Her mind drifted to him for a brief moment, no doubt currently scrubbing behind his ears. "It was my choice… nobody forced me into this…"

A man with her son's same brown eyes, coupled with a rakish grin, came to mind only to be forced back into the dark recesses of her mind. As much as the action pained her, it wouldn't do to think about him right now either – not with her son in the next room.

'That's right, he's my son,' she thought, though her pride was tainted slightly by sadness. 'I damn near raised him myself… though I probably haven't been doing the best job…'

Gangsters, indeed.

The One-Woman Pity-party that had ensued was broken by the sound of music. A soft, tinny tune – fluttered through the room, drowning out the sound of the rain with its wistfulness. The woman found herself momentarily frozen; she knew this song very well.

It had been their song, after all…

"Angel…" Her gaze found her son standing at the door in his pajamas, a small, compact sized music box clutched in his tiny hands. His expression turned guilty at the sight of the distraught look on her face.

"I found it… in your suitcase," he replied softly.

A part of her noted she hadn't even been aware that she packed it. She'd been so frantic that day that seemed so long ago – grabbing only items she felt were absolutely necessary.

Seven years had gone by… and yet she hadn't been able to bring herself to part with it.

Taking a deep breath, another part of her – the maternal part, she supposed – wondered what else he had discovered packed in during her haste. Surely he had come across her .38?

God… the things he had been exposed to! What kind of mother was she?

"Why were you in my suitcase?"

Yes, he'd seen her gun(s); the sudden look on his face said it all. How surprised his father would have been to learn she could read her son as easily as she had him. Fortunately, he didn't seem all that fazed by what he had seen; selfish as it was, she found herself taking comfort in that.

"I couldn't find my toothpaste," he said with a pout. "The bubblegum kind."

He'd probably left it at the motel in Bethesda; she had been a bit of a hurry to leave. "I'll buy you some more before we leave tomorrow," she told him, although half of her focus was still on the music box. After all of this time, she could still hear the words to song playing back in her head.

Someday, baby

We'll make it right

Until that day

Long endless night

'Damn straight,' Frowning, she closed the box shut with a snap.

"I was listening to that." Her son pointed out.

Yes, he was in every way his father's son – a wise ass. Then again, maybe she was partly to blame for that as well…

"Listen to something else, baby," she said patiently, taking the box from his grasp. "This isn't a toy to be played with."

He merely shrugged. "Can you sing me something?" he asked, suddenly looking everything like the 4-year old he actually was. With all of his quirks she often found herself forgetting. "A lullaby? Other kids get sung lullabies."

She froze, realizing with something akin to horror that she didn't know any. Granted, her childhood had also been far from the norm. Still, that didn't make it fair… none of it was fair…

Sensing her distress, her son placed a chubby hand over hers, lifting the music box open once again. The song lilted through the room, slowly easing the tension out of her shoulders. On the other hand, perhaps that was just the weight of the small hand over hers.

"Sing, mama," his voice was soft, eager, but comforting. "Sing anything you want,"

Wiping away the tears that had welled up in her eyes, she nodded shakily. After humming a few bars, the words came forth. Her son crawled up into her lap and she pulled him into a tight, grateful embrace. Rocking him back and forth, she continued singing into the night – even long after he had fallen asleep.

End Prologue

Author's Notes -

Hello again, all! I hoped you guys liked the prologue, I posted it to serve as a teaser of sorts. Like I said before, I'm a bit self-conscious about this piece, seeing as it's the follow-up to a fic that got so much attention. I'd really appreciate any feedback or comments you guys could offer to help improve the story. Not to be threatening or anything, but they really would help me update faster. No pressure now...

Remember the 3 R's! )