A.N: Just finished watching the series so this is something quick, not likely to develop into much more, at least not on paper. Busy, busy girl I am. Enjoy.
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She at least was not convinced.
Jet was an old stray dog in many senses, living life with a scruffy sort of pride in an old cardboard box that was his and all he had. He smelt the cynicism in the air and tasted little else, chased the wolves and left the cats to lick their cream.
His threadbare existence often led him to believe in the darkest of fated destinies, and he believed now that Spike had met the blackest of his.
"Some men only really know they're alive when they eventually go to meet their death. And that's when they're happiest. 'Cause they finally found a truth in this messed up universe."
He spoke with a patience he had never used on her before, that he doubted many people had ever used on her. She looked up at him, a good head below, and he knew she was not convinced anyway.
"Look, Spike was never really happy, not with this existence. We might not'a been best buds for all our lives together but I think I understood him eventually. He told you the truth. It wasn't on a suicide mission. He went to fight, and he meant to win. But he knew death was gonna be there and he knew that was the only way to prove his life, again."
He saw a tear and he knew he had to drive it home.
"He's dead Faye. He's not comin' back."
The punch was hard, he certainly hadn't expected that amount of force to deliver from her elbow. But he saw how straight her face was and he knew what she was going to do next.
She took her fist from his belly then measured a step back. She saw no pain in his eyes, but she knew she had stamped her point home.
The Bebop would be landing on Mars, to cover all loose ends.