"Aaand you'll need an umbrella... maybe two."
"Jet..."
"Probably a pair or two of socks."
"Hm, Jeeeeeet!"
"On second thought, better take them all."
"Adventure, adventure! Cowgirl Ed is on the job!"
"That's the spirit!" Jet approved heartily as he zipped up the final of three thoroughly stuffed backpacks with an almost violently cheerful force.
Spike puffed a cloud of smoke curtly, briefly obscuring his frustration-bent brow. Faye lifted her chest to never before seen heights in what was surely in contention for 'most epic wistful sigh of the century'.
The owner of the Bebop gave them a cursory glance, every aspect of his body language reading a predictable disapproval for the bounty hunters' total lack of enthusiasm with the exception of his expression, which remained solidly set in an uncharacteristically wide grin.
"C'mon, guys."
Puff, siiiigh.
"Listen to Ed: it's an adventure- not a death sentence."
"I'll tell you what it is," huffed Faye, raising a condemning finger to the unwavering smile. She squinted darkly, "It's a hell a lot suspicious- that's what it is-"
"Jet," Spike spoke quietly but clearly, cutting Faye off verbally and physically as he slid in front of her to fill the virtually non-existent space between the belligerents. "Just tell me-"
"Tell me too, you exclusive assholes!"
"Tell me what this has to do with the bounty." His permanently partially obscured yet still incredibly expressive eyebrows locked into a deep, deep glower. It was apparent that the brain behind the brow was working incredibly hard on some fundamental Spike-quandary. Jet, with victory so close at hand, had all of the time in the world and a patience to go with it. Even Faye could tell there was more to come and somehow managed to muster up enough self control to contain obviously impending objections behind her pursed lips until the pensive bounty hunter concluded his thought:
"Please."
The corner of Jet's smile twitched for the briefest of moments. Refusing to meet the melodramatically intense glare of sincerity, Jet turned and busied himself with the backpacks.
So, the dirty, desperate bastard was playing the 'look, I kind of sort of tried to throw my dignity - or at least half of it - out the window for you by begging' card.
"One little piggy went to market!" Ed danced a circle around Faye.
And he'd pulled that damn 'puppy dog eyes' shit too.
"One little piggy stayed home!"
"Yip!"
Spike had to dodge Ein as he was brought up and around in Ed's wiggly pirouette. He kept his pleading look firmly glued on his partner's back though. Down on the surface with the girls was the last place he wanted to be and Jet would have to come up with some life-alteringly amazing answers before he willingly went anywhere.
"One little piggy," Ed went into a wild cartwheel that belatedly was forced to turn into a hand stand when her flailing feet were captured by an increasingly irritated Faye. "Ate!- roast!- BEEF!"
Jet ran the human hand over his face slowly and purposefully, trying his best to keep his resolution from simply slipping away. He'd worked too hard to let this opportunity pass. Forcing the strained smile back up to his ears, Jet turned around just in time to steady Ed's escaping limbs enough for her to right herself.
"And one little piggy got none..."
If Spike was going to get low, he'd have to join him. "You know what I always say when you refuse to trust my better judgment,"
"Jet, don't-"
"Jeeeeeeet-"
"And one little piggy said-"
"'This is my ship and on my ship you follow my rules'."
"Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!"
At this familiar ultimatum the two members of the crew who weren't preoccupied with weaving around the living room furniture airplane-style sighed in defeat, Faye caving in on her chest with an epic sigh worthy of an honorable mention and Spike letting his head loll back as if he could fall asleep and wake up to find this was all a horrible dream in the time it to took for him to exhale a stream of smoke above their heads.
No such luck.
Jet was still beaming steadily back at him when he uprighted his countenance. Only this time, the mismatched arms that had been crossed moments before were holding up one of the overstuffed backpacks.
Spike snatched it cooly from his elder's grasp, muttering darkly around his cigarette, "Whee."
"Backpacks?"
"Check!"
"Package?"
"Check!"
"Directions?"
"Check!"
"Cigarettes," interrupted Faye dryly as she tucked the quarter folded paper Ed had just affirmed was in the landing party's possession back into the top of her interpretation of appropriate breast-coverage.
"Check, check, check!"
"Lighter?" queried Spike in earnest, patting his pocket and being rewarded by the the comforting pressure of plastic.
"Cheeeeeck!" Sang the eager redhead, adding in much waving of the arms to punctuate her undulating melody.
Jet, ready to get the equipment count back on track, halted their youngest colleague with a firm hand on each shoulder, successfully arresting the attention of her bright, feline gaze.
"Cash?"
Ed whipped her head around to survey the empty-handed but now significantly more interested duo behind her. "Ehh..."
"Ah." Jet nodded, giving his sharp nose a sagacious tap before producing a digital cash chip and intoning the amount delicately so that only the last few syllables were audible, "... hundred thousand..."
Spike and Faye blinked in unison at each other and then turned their openly abashed stares upon a self-satisfied looking Jet.
"W-why so much?" Faye asked breathily, poorly disguising the sheer thrill she felt at the mention of any sum at or above four digits behind a veneer of dainty curiosity.
"I didn't even know we still had that much left!" Spike was floored by this divine revelation.
Jet looked from Faye's fine features battling between angelic and wolfish to Spike's vacant open-mouthed stare and then to the still attentive Ed, who was the only one not making eyes at the digital currency.
"Ed- you're in charge of the money-"
"What!"
"You're- no- putting the- oh, oh..."
"Okie-doke!" Ed saluted as Jet cached it in her pack. The pressure of two wistful gazes was almost painfully tangible until the chip was out of sight and the looks - one dejected the other dangerous - were turned once again to Jet, who deflected his compatriots' attentions by closing his eyes to appreciate a deep, approving sigh.
"Well. That's that. Looks like you guys have everything you need." He cast a final evaluating glance over the motley crew: Ed bobbing up and down with her backpack on her head, Spike sulkily taking a drag while subtly shaking the mysterious brown package he'd been entrusted with, and Faye still fuming about the location of their finances and clearly ready to be rid of her own backpack.
As Jet turned to head towards the control panel that would open the dock, a snippy interrogation was thrown after him:
"Aren't you forgetting something?" Rouged lips twisted in a sarcastic scowl, Faye pointed to the panting Corgi on the couch.
Jet paused as if seriously considering the bitterly intended suggestion, causing Spike to shoot the now thoroughly flustered bounty huntress an incredibly dirty look full of promises for payback if this latest misdemeanor earned them a fourth companion. But he had nothing to worry about.
"Naw," Jet grinned as he finished the short trot to the control pad and punched in the necessary commands. "Ein can stay. I might need him to help out on my end."
"End again, adventure begin!" cheered Ed as she shimmied her way towards the edge where the Bebop's metal met the concrete of one of Ganymede's landing stations. Faye and Spike followed with markedly more reluctance, each stewing over this most recent vague and perplexing comment.
The lanky bounty hunter stopped before leaving the ship, giving his partner of three years one last good going over - just in case he could win any more pity points and trade them in for some preferential treatment. But the mildly aged, asymmetric features didn't budge an inch from the gentle but apparently unforgiving smile they were forming.
"If this is your idea of a joke..."
"I'll sure miss you and that look you're giving me, Spike."
"Then you are one sick son of a bitch."
"Damn, you better get going so you can hurry back and keep giving me the evil eye before I forget what it looks like."
Every muscle in his lean body moving with the most supreme resentment, Spike took the final step onto planetary confines and prowled off towards his waiting companions while Jet made his way in the opposite direction, foot falls echoing on the steel surface.
"Directions, directions- oof!" Ed had to bend her knees to take the impact of Faye's backpack joining the frog-marchign girl's atop her fiery poof of hair.
"I'm working on it," she muttered moodily, producing Jet's hand-written guide from its spot of safe-keeping and pulling down her sunglasses from their perch on her head. Only Ed both noticed and returned Jet's parting wave.
"Byyyyye- Bye!"
"Keep them out of trouble for me!"
"Ayyyye- Aye, capitano!"
For all his griping and grumbling, Spike soon surprised himself by realizing he was having a pretty decent time, all things considered. One simply couldn't find a lot to complain about a leisurely stroll on a pleasant afternoon with a practically endless supply of cigarettes and the option to tune in or out of Ed and Faye's occasional banter.
"Which way, which way!"
"I told you, we don't have to worry about 'which way' until we see a pet store next to a bank..."
Just in case, Faye sneaked a furtive peek at the paper as well as their environs, but it seemed they still had a ways to go. A short burst of speed brought her doubt-scrunched visage flush with her blissfully inattentive companion's relaxed shoulders.
Maybe, Spike reflected, if he just refused to acknowledge her presence, she wouldn't interrupt his-
"Suspicious, suspicious!"
The cigarette clenched between his teeth drooped as the corner of his mouth plummeted.
"This is super, super sketch. I don't like it one bit..."
Spike tried to use the combination of his significantly longer stride and the momentary switch in terrain as they crossed a street to navigate up and to the other side of Ed, but the venting bounty huntress seemed to have intuitively divined his intentions and ended up right where she'd started, never missing a beat.
"I mean, we're sent to an unknown location with a thing we're told not to open on a planet he knows better than any of us, without the Redtail or the Swordfish-"
Spike froze mid-step while Faye continued on as if powered by the sound of her own voice, "and he just expects us to go through with it because we're afraid he'll kick us off that stupid hunk of junk! If that big softy really meant that, I'd have been left way back on- Spike?"
"POOOOINT!" Ed called, spiraling back to her two lagging comrades and striking a dynamic pose, completing the statuesque trio.
Spike was the first to break the stillness, pulling a hand down his long face in despair. "Aaaaah! I didn't realize- I... the ship-!..."
After a moment of brief grieving for this failure in his foresight, the dejected bounty hunter seemed to pull himself back together, assuming his former posture and starting up his lazy pace once more.
Faye was next, shaking off her stare of incredulity and mild disdain as she pursued him, striking the one-sided conversation back up, "Right, so, shipless but with a whole lotta dough - if I can just get my hands on it - and we get Ed, who never comes down to the surface, but he needs the useless mutt? What does it mean? What the hell kind of game is that tight-assed old buzzard playing at?"
"Well," Spike removed his cigarette and breathed a measured breath before stating seriously, "it's not that tight actually."
"What?"
"Woof woof!" Confusion and pensiveness had to be put aside temporarily in order to process their most energetic companion's exclamation of discovery.
"Direc-see-oooooowns!" She made a smooth turn and then commenced bobbing up and down in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the quested after document in the recesses of Faye's top.
"Eeeh?"
"Directions," Spike interpreted, casually reaching over to gingerly pluck the slightly protruding paper from its hiding spot. After the briefest of skimming glances, he returned it to a thoroughly conflicted Faye's shirt, gave it a smart pat for safekeeping, and took off down the street.
Astounded, Faye clapped a hand to her trespassed bosom while Ed squared off with a growling Sharpei in the front window of 'East Shore Pet Shop'.
"Rrrrrrrrrr!"
"Hey!" The queen of debts took off at top speed - pulling Ed along with her - as Spike swung a long leg out and over, leading himself around a corner and into the unknown. "What did you mean by that last comment? What would you know about how tight Jet's ass is?"
"Ow ow ow ow ow!"
"It just isn't."
"Do you even know what you're saying?"
"Pretty sure I do."
"Directions, directions!"
"I don't think you really know what you're saying."
"I guess you're the expert."
"Back, back, back!"
"Because if I were you and you were me, and I had just said what you just said, I would expect that you would start to think that me and Jet-"
"BLAAAAAAAAAAAACK!" The shrill shriek was followed by a loud bang of fist on metal. A downward glance in unison revealed the obvious - Ed was not where they'd left her. Like clockwork, the two adults whirled around in search of the minor for whom they were technically responsible.
She was pouting on top of a mailbox in front of what appeared to be a modestly-sized and well-hidden residential building sandwiched between two broader and taller abandoned structures. Audience secured, Ed repeated her message, tapping it out over the worn lettering as she sounded out slowly, "Bbbb-llll-aaaa-ck," then pointed at the door. "Black."
Blink.
Spike made a subtle try for the paper nestled next to Faye's considerable amount of cleavage, but Lady Luck managed to recover from her stupor of surprise in time to prevent this second attempt at what apparently was perceived as an offense.
"Get your god-damned paws away! Sheesh! I'm the one in charge of directions..."
"You're doing a hell of a job..."
Lost in the deep concentration required to decipher Jet's often untidy penmanship, Faye let the comment pass, wandering over to join Ed at the mailbox.
"21..." the agile adolescent shifted her point of balance to where her palms met the sloping top, lifting her straddle-split legs so Faye could finish reading the number over the eerily familiar surname. "2007- this is the place. I wonder-"
The violet-haired woman turned around - sincerely interested in their day trip for the first time since the money had been mentioned - just in time to see Spike, who had wandered vaguely after her, kicking at the base of the rickety white fence separating the modest yard from the sidewalk and being rewarded by the post loosening and leaning dangerously towards the ground. Disgust drained the light of curiosity from her features in less than a heartbeat.
"Down goes the ship! Schwooooooooo!" Ed held her nose with one hand and back-handed the air with the other, feigning sinking under water as she let gravity slide her down to solid ground while Spike tried to right his wrongs with a corrective foot and, when that went terribly awry, both frenzied hands. "Land ho!" Rotating a backpack around each slender arm, Ed jumped the gate (ruining what little success Spike had achieved with his renegade post) and led the way up the short path to the front door.
Again pensive, Faye followed, easily side-stepping over the waist-high impediment (with equally destructive consequences for their struggling comrade), and inquiring more to herself than either of her distracted fellow explorers, "I wonder if it's his old place... or maybe!- Could he secretly have a- Eeeek!"
Something furry and lethal came catapulting off the front porch with a blood-curdling war-shriek, soaring over Ed's head and narrowly missing Faye's face.
"Hsssssssssss!" It landed somewhere behind the girls, hunched itself up in a ball of electric, lean-muscled fury, and then exploded into the air again, this time landing squarely on target: the gravity-defying mop of Spike's hair, effectively toppling both the man and the fence post he had just managed to re-balance.
"Montag, who's out there?" A feathery voice that echoed with remnants of its past robustness brought the attention of both crouching females away from where Spike was grappling with the mystery four-legged assailant and back to the cautiously opening front door.
Shawl daintily draped around inordinately broad shoulders and oversized house shoes flopping noisily with every minute step, a tiny woman crept out from behind the comparatively mammoth door to examine her unofficially announced house guests through miniature spectacles balancing atop what apparently was the highly heritable Black family nose.
"Oh!" The small, craggy features lit up and she seemed to grow a few centimeters. "You must be the lady who dresses like a hussy!" All smiles and totally sincere, the moth-like creature hobbled out of the entry way, petite palm extended in amiable greeting.
Faye looked around on the staircase as if some other person had materialized while she was blinking in bewilderment.
"Jet said you'd be coming soon."
Confusion slumped into none too kind comprehension across Faye's features as the reasons behind this offensive epithet became clear. Sighing in defeat she took the wrinkled hand in her smooth one and allowed them to be heartily jostled for an infinitely too lengthy span of time.
"'Faye' for short."
"Howdy, Kiddo!" If Mrs. Black had picked up on the sarcastic introduction she ignored it, plodding down the stairs to get a closer look at Ed. "I assume you're that hacker-creature Jet picked up on Earth. Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky IV was it?"
"Hiiiiiii!" The correct recitation of Ed's full name earned a jovial salute from the beaming addressee; Faye's eyes narrowed in disbelief as her skin prickled with the distinct feeling that she'd been the victim of poor advertising.
Standing a full head shorter than the teen-aged tech whiz, Mrs. Black at last came to the bottom of the front steps and adjusted her spectacles. A slight frown carved itself out of the many lines criss-crossing her visage.
"Now, wasn't there supposed to be one more?" she seemed to be scanning everywhere but where Spike was struggling to crawl away from his temporarily removed aggressor. "A stringy, scruffy, good-for-nothing type?"
"Geh!" What had now slowed down enough to be confirmed as a massive, slate gray cat pounced on the back of his escaping prey's head. In lieu of speaking for himself and after a pause during which it became clear neither of his companions were going to identify him, Spike managed to raise a hand from position face down on the pavement. He was successful in getting her attention.
"Ah. Very good. Well let's get these deviants settled in, Montag."
"Taaaag!" With a spinning leap Ed arrived at the defeated cowboy just as the proudly strutting victor was leaving. With great care not to disturb his collapsed posture, she extracted the package from beneath one extended arm and then traipsed after their hostess.
"C'mon, Mr. Scruffy Type," Faye mumbled darkly as she prepared to follow too.
"Hey..." the slowly posed interjection was audible even though it was spoken into the sidewalk. "Who are you?"
The small woman paused in her careful shuffling, responding to the unusual quality of Spike's questions that demanded everyone's full attention. The corners of her mouth folded up in a smile.
"Do I look like I'm his mother, kid?"
Lotte Black was Jet's paternal grandmother, a proud Ganymede resident for longer than anyone needed to know, and the widow of not only her divorcé, Jet's grandfather, but her late wife of 22 years, Adelheid. She brewed her Earl Gray strong, liked her Coltrane loud, and, evidently, had quite the taste for Martian whiskey (Spike had known he'd heard the sloshing sound of the package before).
So far, this was the jist of all the trio submerged in the depths of her living room furniture had learned between frequent interruptions for unnecessary and unwanted tea refills. They were just about to be treated to a third retelling of the story in which Lotte and her beloved Adelheid found the kitten version of the ominously purring Montag, currently nestled between Faye and Spike, when a blessedly familiar voice came through with a wave of static.
"Hey, Grandma. Did they fund you yet?" Lotte carefully lowered her teacup to the coffee table before employing both small hands in locating a communicator that sounded as though it was as thoroughly drowned in the upholstery as the drowsy looking Ed.
"Oh, Jet! Yes, I've got your crew all here, safe and sound."
Looking into the cat's glowing eyes and following their line of focus to the top of his still recovering cranium, Spike decided he couldn't quite agree with this last comment, but the relief of hearing Jet's voice took emotional priority. And apparently he wasn't the only one who felt this way.
"Oi, Jet-"
"JET! You better be calling to get us out of here, because if you're not-"
"OYHIIIIIII, CAPITANO! Confirming, confirming! Lieutenant Ed says go, go, go! Everyone is safe and sound- check, check!"
"-and next time I want my information up front or no deal!"
Soundly defeated, the disgruntled cowboy sank back into the couch cushions rather than attempt to overthrow the Bebop's resident vocal heavyweight champions. Montag gave him a malicious blink before extending a paw to rest on his thigh in what might have been a comforting manner out of the context of their brief but violent history.
Surprisingly, their absent comrade's only response to this explosion of indignant demands and spirited strings of nonsense was a rumble of chuckles. "Hehhehheh, all counted for and feeling very at home it sounds like."
"Kehkehkeh! That reminds me, I haven't shown them where they're sleeping yet."
"Sleeping!" Violet hair whipping wildly as she whirled around to try and exchange an indignant look with Spike, Faye managed to extract herself from the enveloping creases of the loveseat through sheer force of her ire. When this failed to divert the weary cowboy's flat glare from the cat tucked between their thighs, she leaned back over the coffee table and fixed the communicator with a frown as vividly venomous as those she reserved for the man in person. "Look, Jet-"
"You're not putting someone up in my room are you, Gran?"
"Actually, I thought your scrappy layabout might appreciate it."
"Oh, geez- hey, Spike! Don't go poking around in there, ok?"
A second flexing paw joined its threatening fellow as his feline foe stretched lazily before pulling himself into the realm of Spike's personal space that couldn't be called anything but his lap. It was moments like these that really spelled out the difference between a guy like him and a woman like Faye.
He took a deep, deep sigh, sinking even further into the mauve cushions as he shut his eyes and opened them to the ceiling.
"Whatever happens happens, Jet," he produced a cigarette from his pocket and tucked it into the corner of a smile. "Can't make any promises about that."
"Over, over- sleep, sleep, sleep! Ed wants to speak to Ein! Eiiiiiiiiin!"
"Hold on a second..."
"Yiiip!"
Montag's purr became decidedly darker and he slit one deadly green eye. Cautiously, Spike attempted to excavate his lighter from a cat-obscured pocket only to have a small flame burst into life just a few centimeters in front of his face. The tiny frame of Mrs. Black was bent as far as it could bend over the coffee table, thin arm extend to its full length to offer a light. Wordlessly, he returned the gracious gesture by trading a cigarette, receiving a nod of approval for his attention to courtesy.
Faye sunk to her elbows in despair at the sight of this exchange. They weren't going anywhere soon.
"Bye-bye, Ein!"
"Hnnn..."
"Okay, thanks, Ed. He really liked that. Now, Gran, are you still there?"
"No, kid, I'm not."
A staticy sigh.
"Anyway, I just wanted to go over what we discussed before- no booze for Ed-"
"Oh, damn, I forgot that one already! Shit, it won't happen again."
Intrigued, Spike lifted his tea cup and sniffed, eyebrows jumping beneath his fringe of wild bangs in surprise and respect.
"If anyone starts fighting just remind them they've gotta behave if they ever want to get back on this ship. Go easy on the food- their stomachs might need some time to adjust to a real, fully balanced diet."
Even the moping Lady Luck joined her generally starving crew mates in lifting their gazes to their hostess in order to discredit this last recommendation with violent shakes of the head.
"And if you get too worn out-"
"Oh, not this again-"
"if you get too worn out, just call me-"
"To a grown woman, for Christ's sake-"
"and I'll come pick them up. Okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. You won't be hearing from me anytime soon, kid."
"Well, thanks for taking care of them for me, Gran. Which reminds me- Ed, you can pass on the money to her. Consider yourself discharged. You did great getting them there in one piece."
"Ca-chiiiing! Success for Cowgirl Ed!" Beaming with clear delight at this praise, the redhead flung herself over the back of the couch to retrieve her pack and complete the last request.
"Jet..."
The quietly murmured name surprised them all. Faye was speaking to the coffee table in intense earnestly.
"I just want to know one thing: was there ever really a bounty?"
Spike's interest evaporated instantly at the sight of her uplifted eyes, sparkling with grief for the lost - if fictionalized - money.
"Hahaha! Of course there was!"
Both denizens of the couch perked up immediately.
"I've got him right here- wanted: for a well-deserved vacation. Jet Black."
Faye looked ready to cry.
"Hehheh..." Spike relaxed back into the excessive padding. "Nice catch, partner."
"You know what they say: 'Go to foreign countries and you will get to know the good things one possesses at home'. You'll all be thanking me for this later."
High above the atmosphere of the quaint moon, the Bebop orbited lazily. Jet leaned back in his chair, beer in hand and a whole month of freedom before him.
"And you know what else they say, kid: 'Girls we love for what they are, young men for what they promise to be'."
He quirked a brow in brief confusion, then lifted his eyes in humored disbelief at his grandmother's cryptic insinuation.
"So they say."
"We'll just have to see, Jet! There may be hope for you yet..."
"Tschüs, Gran."
"Tschüs!"
With an air of grand finality, he shut off the communicator, relishing the silence of space.
"Yip?"
"Hm?" Jet looked up and around at the questioning interruption to his short-lived reverie. Ein sat eagerly over his empty bowl, short tail thumping expectantly.
"Aah. Hehheh, alright, alright. You can't let me get too comfortable I guess... Let's go see what we can rustle up for a couple of bachelors." He eased himself out of the chair and started off towards the kitchen. "One little piggy went to market..."
a/n: Just a few notes on names and other things: Lotte and Adelheid are both the names of characters from Goethe works, the former from the novel Die Leiden des jungen Werthers and the latter from the play Götz von Berlichingen. The name for the cat was supposed to go along with Ein's name in that they're both the first of some basic vocabulary lists (ein=one, Montag=monday). Finally, the three quotes that Jet and Gran exchange at the end are (according to google searches XD) Goethe quotes. :) Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! I had a lot of fun...
