Cowboy Bebop: Deep Blue Melody
Sunlight poured through the darkness. The beam lies across a sleeping face, illuminating the eyes. The sleeping man stirs, scrunching his eyes closed. A soft moan escapes his lips. His eyes slowly open and through the small slits, he can make out the silhouette of a petite figure lounging upon a window seat. A soft melodious singing envelopes him in a warm blanket, aiding him back into this plane of reality.
"Julia"
The singing abruptly stops and the silhouette turns its head towards him. Gracefully and fluidly, the figure raises it's self from the window seat and glides towards him.
"Julia," the man utters once more.
The figure stands next to the bed and leans over him.
"Julia? Who is Julia?"
Finally, everything came into focus. Above him was a young woman's face. She had pale skin and white hair cut so her bangs went down to her shoulders, but the rest was just below her ears.
"I am glad that you're finally up. I was starting to worry that you wouldn't."
He just stared up at her soft, pale, pink lips as she spoke, trying to get his mind in order.
"You're not Julia"
"I'm sorry, but I'm not. Is there anything I can get for you?"
He laid there for a time before speaking up again.
"Bathroom, hurry."
She nodded and helped him up and off the bed. Every part of him seems to refuse as he tries to stand. His legs quite and she keeps him up, one arm around his waist, the other holding onto his arm that was draped over her shoulders. Slowly and painfully, they made their way to the bathroom. Just outside the doorway, they stop.
"Do you need me to help you, or can you make it in?"
"I can do it alone," as he slowly dropped out the words, a look of relief washed over the woman's face. He drug his unwilling body in and she closed the door behind him. As he stood there, relieving the pressure on his bladder, his vision began to steady and he traced the cracks in the wall and picked at the peeling grey paint, listening to the almost soothing sound of his pee. He finished and sipped up his pants. Thoughts swirled around in his mind as he pulled open the door. At that point, his weak body gave out and he tumbled into the woman's waiting arms.
"You shouldn't try to over do it. Rest now, you still have a great deal of healing left." She gently laid him back down on the bed and he praised its softness. She rose and started to walk away, but he caught her hand.
"Who are you? Why are you helping me? I can't pay you anything so what do you want?"
"I want nothing. I was just helping a man in need. Maybe all I need is your name."
"Too bad more people aren't like you, though it's a wonder you're still alive. I'm Spike, but I don't know who you are."
"Theta, and maybe Spike, I'm not."
Then the warm black of sleep overtook Spike and Theta's last words faded from his ears.
When Spike awoke again, it was not quite as gentle. The world around him smashed down like a ton for bricks. The glaring sunlight and the sounds of the cars and people below seemed unbearably loud. He eased himself upwards and looked about. He was alone. A clock screamed the time at him in harsh red numbers. 8:30 P.M. The sun was just setting and the day and night people were passing each other by. Suddenly a crash came from behind a closed door. He rolled from the bed and over to his gun holster. He quietly slipped the gun from it cradle that hung from a bed post and slipped off the safety. He crept over to the door and stood against the wall in wait. The door opened and he swung around into the pathway. An older woman stood in the doorway, immediately upon having a gun thrust into her face, dropped the platter she was holding to the floor. It crashed, shattering the two cups and spilling tea across the ground at her feet.
"Oh merciful heavens! Don't shoot! Just take what you want and go! I won't report you, I swear!" Her hands were up in the air above her head and her eyes were clenched shut. She stood there like that, quaking in fear.
"What are you doing here?"
"Theta pays me to come up and watch the man she brought in."
Spike lowered his gun and slipped the safety back into place.
"Where is she now?"
"Ooo I knew she was too kind for her own good. She really is a sweet woman though."
"Where is she?" Spike stated once more, his patience obviously running thin.
"She's off at work, won't be back till morning! I'll tell you everything you want to know, just please don't shoot me!"
"I am not going to shoot you, you frickin' idiot." The last of Spike's patience left him and he decided it would be best to give in to the siren call of the bed. He flopped down across it, dropping the gun to the floor, too exhausted to do much more with it.
"You're the man she brought up! I didn't recognize you without all the bandages. Well then dear I best be making another couple of cups of tea." She then bustled back into the kitchen. Spike groaned and pulled a pillow over his head trying to drown out the woman's incessant chatter. Eventually she returned with new cups of tea. She pulled the pillow from his face and handed him a cup.
"Here, drink this. Theta said it would help you."
He nodded and took the cup from the woman. He blew softly onto the hot tea before taking a sip. Within a few minutes he finished the drink and suddenly the room began to spin and a strong drowsiness over took him.
"What's in this tea?" his question fell upon deaf ears, the woman was already asleep, her empty cup dangling from her limp fingers. Then everything faded once more into darkness.
* * *
As the sun rose, Theta walked into her apartment to see Mrs. Rosenbaum, her landlady, asleep in the chair next to the bed, which held the man called Spike, the tea cup now tipped over on the floor.
"Oh I should have warned her not to drink the tea."
Unbeknownst to Theta, Spike began to revive. He watched as she took off her coat and he was a bit surprised, by what he saw. She wore a black plastic shirt that was more of a strip and tight small black plastic shorts. The shirt had Le Clair's written across it in bright, shimmering red.
She must work there. Probably some skanky bar trying to sound classy. Geez, even Faye might not wear that skimpy of an outfit. The again it's Faye.
Theta walked over to her dresser and took out some new clothes. Suddenly, right there before him, she started to change. Spike mentally raised and eyebrow, before closing his eyes.
Not bad, not bad at all.
Spike was brought out of his thoughts as the bed suddenly dipped a bit where Theta sat down.
"Mrs. Rosenbaum, Mrs. Rosenbaum. Wake up; it's time for you to go. Sorry about that, I should have warned you not to drink that tea."
"Oh, no worries dear," yawn "The rest did these old bones a world of good. You should be careful with this man though luv. He's dangerous, almost snuffed out my birthday candles, if you know what I mean, and who knows what he might do to a pretty young woman like your self. You do live by your lonesome and men these days are more desperate then ever to get a little nookie. You never can be too careful these days."
"I know Mrs. Rosenbaum and trust me; I have myself well protected, goodbye." Spike then heard the door close shut behind a still chatting Mrs. Rosenbaum. He opened his eyes a bit to see Theta lean against the door and sight. This time she was wearing her normal clothing, her black leather pants and odd black leather shirt as well as her black boots and trench coat, creating a very covered appearance much different from her work clothes.
"What was in the tea?" Spike asked suddenly. Theta pushed off from the door and took up the chair beside the bed.
"So you are awake."
"What's in the damn tea, Theta," He asked once more.
"Only natural herbs, you have nothing to worry about." Spike pushed himself up into a sitting position and locked his gaze with Theta's.
"So you work at Le Clair's. I've never heard of it before."
"Few outsiders have."
"I grew up and died here."
"I guess you could say I am a bartender there. It's just a skuzzy little hole in the wall really."
"So why do you work there?"
"They pay well and it's a job."
"That's what everything is here, just a job."
Sunlight poured through the darkness. The beam lies across a sleeping face, illuminating the eyes. The sleeping man stirs, scrunching his eyes closed. A soft moan escapes his lips. His eyes slowly open and through the small slits, he can make out the silhouette of a petite figure lounging upon a window seat. A soft melodious singing envelopes him in a warm blanket, aiding him back into this plane of reality.
"Julia"
The singing abruptly stops and the silhouette turns its head towards him. Gracefully and fluidly, the figure raises it's self from the window seat and glides towards him.
"Julia," the man utters once more.
The figure stands next to the bed and leans over him.
"Julia? Who is Julia?"
Finally, everything came into focus. Above him was a young woman's face. She had pale skin and white hair cut so her bangs went down to her shoulders, but the rest was just below her ears.
"I am glad that you're finally up. I was starting to worry that you wouldn't."
He just stared up at her soft, pale, pink lips as she spoke, trying to get his mind in order.
"You're not Julia"
"I'm sorry, but I'm not. Is there anything I can get for you?"
He laid there for a time before speaking up again.
"Bathroom, hurry."
She nodded and helped him up and off the bed. Every part of him seems to refuse as he tries to stand. His legs quite and she keeps him up, one arm around his waist, the other holding onto his arm that was draped over her shoulders. Slowly and painfully, they made their way to the bathroom. Just outside the doorway, they stop.
"Do you need me to help you, or can you make it in?"
"I can do it alone," as he slowly dropped out the words, a look of relief washed over the woman's face. He drug his unwilling body in and she closed the door behind him. As he stood there, relieving the pressure on his bladder, his vision began to steady and he traced the cracks in the wall and picked at the peeling grey paint, listening to the almost soothing sound of his pee. He finished and sipped up his pants. Thoughts swirled around in his mind as he pulled open the door. At that point, his weak body gave out and he tumbled into the woman's waiting arms.
"You shouldn't try to over do it. Rest now, you still have a great deal of healing left." She gently laid him back down on the bed and he praised its softness. She rose and started to walk away, but he caught her hand.
"Who are you? Why are you helping me? I can't pay you anything so what do you want?"
"I want nothing. I was just helping a man in need. Maybe all I need is your name."
"Too bad more people aren't like you, though it's a wonder you're still alive. I'm Spike, but I don't know who you are."
"Theta, and maybe Spike, I'm not."
Then the warm black of sleep overtook Spike and Theta's last words faded from his ears.
When Spike awoke again, it was not quite as gentle. The world around him smashed down like a ton for bricks. The glaring sunlight and the sounds of the cars and people below seemed unbearably loud. He eased himself upwards and looked about. He was alone. A clock screamed the time at him in harsh red numbers. 8:30 P.M. The sun was just setting and the day and night people were passing each other by. Suddenly a crash came from behind a closed door. He rolled from the bed and over to his gun holster. He quietly slipped the gun from it cradle that hung from a bed post and slipped off the safety. He crept over to the door and stood against the wall in wait. The door opened and he swung around into the pathway. An older woman stood in the doorway, immediately upon having a gun thrust into her face, dropped the platter she was holding to the floor. It crashed, shattering the two cups and spilling tea across the ground at her feet.
"Oh merciful heavens! Don't shoot! Just take what you want and go! I won't report you, I swear!" Her hands were up in the air above her head and her eyes were clenched shut. She stood there like that, quaking in fear.
"What are you doing here?"
"Theta pays me to come up and watch the man she brought in."
Spike lowered his gun and slipped the safety back into place.
"Where is she now?"
"Ooo I knew she was too kind for her own good. She really is a sweet woman though."
"Where is she?" Spike stated once more, his patience obviously running thin.
"She's off at work, won't be back till morning! I'll tell you everything you want to know, just please don't shoot me!"
"I am not going to shoot you, you frickin' idiot." The last of Spike's patience left him and he decided it would be best to give in to the siren call of the bed. He flopped down across it, dropping the gun to the floor, too exhausted to do much more with it.
"You're the man she brought up! I didn't recognize you without all the bandages. Well then dear I best be making another couple of cups of tea." She then bustled back into the kitchen. Spike groaned and pulled a pillow over his head trying to drown out the woman's incessant chatter. Eventually she returned with new cups of tea. She pulled the pillow from his face and handed him a cup.
"Here, drink this. Theta said it would help you."
He nodded and took the cup from the woman. He blew softly onto the hot tea before taking a sip. Within a few minutes he finished the drink and suddenly the room began to spin and a strong drowsiness over took him.
"What's in this tea?" his question fell upon deaf ears, the woman was already asleep, her empty cup dangling from her limp fingers. Then everything faded once more into darkness.
* * *
As the sun rose, Theta walked into her apartment to see Mrs. Rosenbaum, her landlady, asleep in the chair next to the bed, which held the man called Spike, the tea cup now tipped over on the floor.
"Oh I should have warned her not to drink the tea."
Unbeknownst to Theta, Spike began to revive. He watched as she took off her coat and he was a bit surprised, by what he saw. She wore a black plastic shirt that was more of a strip and tight small black plastic shorts. The shirt had Le Clair's written across it in bright, shimmering red.
She must work there. Probably some skanky bar trying to sound classy. Geez, even Faye might not wear that skimpy of an outfit. The again it's Faye.
Theta walked over to her dresser and took out some new clothes. Suddenly, right there before him, she started to change. Spike mentally raised and eyebrow, before closing his eyes.
Not bad, not bad at all.
Spike was brought out of his thoughts as the bed suddenly dipped a bit where Theta sat down.
"Mrs. Rosenbaum, Mrs. Rosenbaum. Wake up; it's time for you to go. Sorry about that, I should have warned you not to drink that tea."
"Oh, no worries dear," yawn "The rest did these old bones a world of good. You should be careful with this man though luv. He's dangerous, almost snuffed out my birthday candles, if you know what I mean, and who knows what he might do to a pretty young woman like your self. You do live by your lonesome and men these days are more desperate then ever to get a little nookie. You never can be too careful these days."
"I know Mrs. Rosenbaum and trust me; I have myself well protected, goodbye." Spike then heard the door close shut behind a still chatting Mrs. Rosenbaum. He opened his eyes a bit to see Theta lean against the door and sight. This time she was wearing her normal clothing, her black leather pants and odd black leather shirt as well as her black boots and trench coat, creating a very covered appearance much different from her work clothes.
"What was in the tea?" Spike asked suddenly. Theta pushed off from the door and took up the chair beside the bed.
"So you are awake."
"What's in the damn tea, Theta," He asked once more.
"Only natural herbs, you have nothing to worry about." Spike pushed himself up into a sitting position and locked his gaze with Theta's.
"So you work at Le Clair's. I've never heard of it before."
"Few outsiders have."
"I grew up and died here."
"I guess you could say I am a bartender there. It's just a skuzzy little hole in the wall really."
"So why do you work there?"
"They pay well and it's a job."
"That's what everything is here, just a job."
