(A/N- 'Kay, the way I see it, there are two plausible scenarios for the end
of Cowboy Bebop. They are: a) Spike is dead, and b) Spike is still alive.
Being the odd one I am, part of me believes each. I happen to have stories
for each stuck in my head. This is the "Spike Lives" scenario. Beware, this
story will switch viewpoints A LOT, like all of my other stories. But,
It'll be purty easy to tell which viewpoint is working at which time. And a
quick note: if anybody's OOC, suck it up because frankly, my dear, I don't
give a damn.)
"Wake up," I whispered to the shape under the blanket. The shape in question mumbled unhappily and pushed very long, very messy strands of dark purple hair out of her pretty face.
"Do I hafta?" she grumbled. I could have laughed. Poor baby, she was still half asleep. But, she HAD been up until midnight the night before.
"Yes you do," I informed.
"Can't I just skiv off on first period and sleep? Please?" I thought about that for a moment.
"Which class is first period?"
"It's French. I have an A-plus in French anyway, can you please just take me in late?" she begged. She did have very good grades, and she'd been working so hard...
"Fine," I agreed. "Just one more hour, though."
"Thanks. I love you Mom."
"I love you, too, sweetie. Go back to sleep." My daughter nodded happily and pulled the covers back over her head. My little angel. Well, not so little anymore - she would be sixteen soon.
'God, time flies,' I thought as I made my way to my own bedroom. I happened to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
"Getting old, Faye," I said to my reflection. I sighed. Thirty- eight... almost forty! Well, technically I was eighty-eight, but the fifty years of cryo didn't count. I sighed again. We were all getting old. Jet was in his fifties, and crazy little Ed had become a very beautiful, well- spoken, (go figure) young woman of twenty-eight. Both were still on the Bebop with Ein's successor, Ein II. I don't know, maybe living with a dog for all that time had made it hard for them to get along without one. Why Jet and Ed had to give the thing the same damn name was a complete mystery to me, but I wasn't the one feeding it, so it was really none of my business.
I, myself, had quit my former life of guns, bounties, and sexy clothes when I found out I was pregnant. With a hell of a lot of help from Jet, Paige and I had moved into our own house when she was two years old. And I'd gotten a respectable job. Still got a lot of help from Jet and Ed, though, and I was certainly grateful. It had occured to me that I owed those two my life (not that it wasn't partly due to the fact that Jet kept reminding me of this). It had also occured to me that because of Jet and Ed (mostly Jet), Paige was very spoiled. I mean, incredibly spoiled. Every time they came over, they brought countless trinkets from different planets with them.
'At least they haven't gotten her a dog, yet,' I thought. Paige had always wanted a dog. But so long as she was living in my house, she would just have to settle for playing with Ein on occasion.
I knew what everyone who'd ever known me probably thought. They probably thought that there was no way in the seven hells that Faye Valentine could be a decent mother. But Paige was turning out just fine in my opinion, so screw them. I had managed to raise a smart, beautiful, polite, and talented teenaged girl who thought I was a cool mom, and that was more than most women could say. I had done this by myself, too, so score a few hundred more points for Ms. Valentine.
The next thing everyone always seemed to wonder was: where's Paige's father? Ah, now THERE was a story! Well, sometimes, after a particularly romantic evening, things happen in the heat of the moment, you forget about the magical properties of latex, the green-haired FREAK takes off in his little spaceship before you wake up the next morning, and isn't around a month later when you find out that he managed to knock you up the first damn time you slept with him!
I wasn't sure whether to thank or crucify Spike Spiegel for what he'd done. Whereas it royally pissed me off that the bastard had scampered away like a rabbit from any possible consequences of having sex with me, Paige was undeniably the best thing that had ever happened to me, and raising her myself had forced me to become a more responsible (I had also stopped drinking, smoking, and gambling with the news of pregnancy) and ultimately better person. Although disappearing for nearly sixteen years and nine months was a wicked immature way of avoiding any morning-after awkwardness, I'd probably welcome the man back with...somewhat open arms if he ever decided to come back. Don't get me wrong, I'd bitch him out for a few hours first, but it wasn't as though I didn't miss him just a little sometimes. Okay, so I missed him a lot sometimes. And it didn't help that Paige had gotten her daddy's eyes.
Then, of course, I worried about what would happen if he DID come back. I mean, one time I'd heard him telling Jet about things he hated, and children were among them (then again, so were "women with attitudes", but that hadn't seemed to bother him when I was in bed with him). Maybe he would hate Paige, too. It wasn't unheard of for parents not to love their children. Atrocious and evil, but not unheard of. Somewhere around that point, I would always decide that it was much better for all three of us if Spike remained AWOL and never even met his daughter. He'd be happy not knowing, my little girl wouldn't have to go through the emotional trauma of her father not loving her, and I wouldn't have to worry about finding a good place to hide Spike's body after I murdered him for upsetting Paige.
Then I would come to the conclusion that all that worrying would just make me age even faster and crave liquor and chocolate, and resolve never to think about it again. Yeah, I went through that routine at least every day.
***
An extra hour of sleep is always good. I can't help it, I've never been a morning person. Mom said I got that from her. Considering that I'd also gotten nice hair and nice boobs from her, I really couldn't complain about a little difficulty convincing my brain that I was not going to stay in bed all day.
I threw on some clothes, washed my face, and went out to join Mom in the kitchen. She handed me a large mug of coffee as soon as I sat down. I smiled brightly at her. I love coffee.
"Good morning, Mommy," I said. She gave me this wry smile she'd perfected in the past few years and rested her head in her hand.
"Yeah, good for you. You're not getting wrinkles." I rolled my eyes at this comment.
"You're brooding about your age again? For God's sake, Mom, you're prettier than three quarters of the human population, take that as it is and stop obsessing about getting older."
"I'm getting older way too fast."
"Because you worry all the time! And half the time I have no clue what it is that you're worrying about anyway, so chill out," I advised. She laughed a little.
"Well, I have to admit, I look great for and eighty-eight-year-old woman," she said.
"There you go!" I agreed, draining the rest of my coffee and proceeding to fetch some cereal from the cupboard. Mom really laughed this time.
"Let's get onto a happier topic, shall we? What do you want for your birthday?"
"Same thing I've been asking for since I was about five," I responded, sitting back down with a particularly huge bowl of cinnamony cereal and wolfing it down unceremoniously.
"Paige, we still have no room for a horse in here," she said. I gave her a look.
"No, not the horse. The other thing I always ask for." There was another one of those pauses that told me she really didn't want to talk about it. Then she sighed and looked down at the table.
"You know that can't happen."
"Yes it can. You can have Ed do a search, I'm sure he'll turn up."
"That's not the point."
"What's the point, then? Why can't I know my own father?"
"Because that's how it is." Her tone made it very clear that the conversation was over. With no additional information whatsoever. Faye Valentine: 1, Paige Valentine: 0.
"You may have won the battle," I said, in my best evil voice, "but you haven't won the war!"
"Oh shut up, go get ready for school."
(A/N- yep, the infamous sucky start-off chapter! But it'll get better. Oh yes, it WILL get better. Or maybe I'm just rattling on and should shut the hell up. Either way, R&R, s'il vous plait!)
"Wake up," I whispered to the shape under the blanket. The shape in question mumbled unhappily and pushed very long, very messy strands of dark purple hair out of her pretty face.
"Do I hafta?" she grumbled. I could have laughed. Poor baby, she was still half asleep. But, she HAD been up until midnight the night before.
"Yes you do," I informed.
"Can't I just skiv off on first period and sleep? Please?" I thought about that for a moment.
"Which class is first period?"
"It's French. I have an A-plus in French anyway, can you please just take me in late?" she begged. She did have very good grades, and she'd been working so hard...
"Fine," I agreed. "Just one more hour, though."
"Thanks. I love you Mom."
"I love you, too, sweetie. Go back to sleep." My daughter nodded happily and pulled the covers back over her head. My little angel. Well, not so little anymore - she would be sixteen soon.
'God, time flies,' I thought as I made my way to my own bedroom. I happened to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.
"Getting old, Faye," I said to my reflection. I sighed. Thirty- eight... almost forty! Well, technically I was eighty-eight, but the fifty years of cryo didn't count. I sighed again. We were all getting old. Jet was in his fifties, and crazy little Ed had become a very beautiful, well- spoken, (go figure) young woman of twenty-eight. Both were still on the Bebop with Ein's successor, Ein II. I don't know, maybe living with a dog for all that time had made it hard for them to get along without one. Why Jet and Ed had to give the thing the same damn name was a complete mystery to me, but I wasn't the one feeding it, so it was really none of my business.
I, myself, had quit my former life of guns, bounties, and sexy clothes when I found out I was pregnant. With a hell of a lot of help from Jet, Paige and I had moved into our own house when she was two years old. And I'd gotten a respectable job. Still got a lot of help from Jet and Ed, though, and I was certainly grateful. It had occured to me that I owed those two my life (not that it wasn't partly due to the fact that Jet kept reminding me of this). It had also occured to me that because of Jet and Ed (mostly Jet), Paige was very spoiled. I mean, incredibly spoiled. Every time they came over, they brought countless trinkets from different planets with them.
'At least they haven't gotten her a dog, yet,' I thought. Paige had always wanted a dog. But so long as she was living in my house, she would just have to settle for playing with Ein on occasion.
I knew what everyone who'd ever known me probably thought. They probably thought that there was no way in the seven hells that Faye Valentine could be a decent mother. But Paige was turning out just fine in my opinion, so screw them. I had managed to raise a smart, beautiful, polite, and talented teenaged girl who thought I was a cool mom, and that was more than most women could say. I had done this by myself, too, so score a few hundred more points for Ms. Valentine.
The next thing everyone always seemed to wonder was: where's Paige's father? Ah, now THERE was a story! Well, sometimes, after a particularly romantic evening, things happen in the heat of the moment, you forget about the magical properties of latex, the green-haired FREAK takes off in his little spaceship before you wake up the next morning, and isn't around a month later when you find out that he managed to knock you up the first damn time you slept with him!
I wasn't sure whether to thank or crucify Spike Spiegel for what he'd done. Whereas it royally pissed me off that the bastard had scampered away like a rabbit from any possible consequences of having sex with me, Paige was undeniably the best thing that had ever happened to me, and raising her myself had forced me to become a more responsible (I had also stopped drinking, smoking, and gambling with the news of pregnancy) and ultimately better person. Although disappearing for nearly sixteen years and nine months was a wicked immature way of avoiding any morning-after awkwardness, I'd probably welcome the man back with...somewhat open arms if he ever decided to come back. Don't get me wrong, I'd bitch him out for a few hours first, but it wasn't as though I didn't miss him just a little sometimes. Okay, so I missed him a lot sometimes. And it didn't help that Paige had gotten her daddy's eyes.
Then, of course, I worried about what would happen if he DID come back. I mean, one time I'd heard him telling Jet about things he hated, and children were among them (then again, so were "women with attitudes", but that hadn't seemed to bother him when I was in bed with him). Maybe he would hate Paige, too. It wasn't unheard of for parents not to love their children. Atrocious and evil, but not unheard of. Somewhere around that point, I would always decide that it was much better for all three of us if Spike remained AWOL and never even met his daughter. He'd be happy not knowing, my little girl wouldn't have to go through the emotional trauma of her father not loving her, and I wouldn't have to worry about finding a good place to hide Spike's body after I murdered him for upsetting Paige.
Then I would come to the conclusion that all that worrying would just make me age even faster and crave liquor and chocolate, and resolve never to think about it again. Yeah, I went through that routine at least every day.
***
An extra hour of sleep is always good. I can't help it, I've never been a morning person. Mom said I got that from her. Considering that I'd also gotten nice hair and nice boobs from her, I really couldn't complain about a little difficulty convincing my brain that I was not going to stay in bed all day.
I threw on some clothes, washed my face, and went out to join Mom in the kitchen. She handed me a large mug of coffee as soon as I sat down. I smiled brightly at her. I love coffee.
"Good morning, Mommy," I said. She gave me this wry smile she'd perfected in the past few years and rested her head in her hand.
"Yeah, good for you. You're not getting wrinkles." I rolled my eyes at this comment.
"You're brooding about your age again? For God's sake, Mom, you're prettier than three quarters of the human population, take that as it is and stop obsessing about getting older."
"I'm getting older way too fast."
"Because you worry all the time! And half the time I have no clue what it is that you're worrying about anyway, so chill out," I advised. She laughed a little.
"Well, I have to admit, I look great for and eighty-eight-year-old woman," she said.
"There you go!" I agreed, draining the rest of my coffee and proceeding to fetch some cereal from the cupboard. Mom really laughed this time.
"Let's get onto a happier topic, shall we? What do you want for your birthday?"
"Same thing I've been asking for since I was about five," I responded, sitting back down with a particularly huge bowl of cinnamony cereal and wolfing it down unceremoniously.
"Paige, we still have no room for a horse in here," she said. I gave her a look.
"No, not the horse. The other thing I always ask for." There was another one of those pauses that told me she really didn't want to talk about it. Then she sighed and looked down at the table.
"You know that can't happen."
"Yes it can. You can have Ed do a search, I'm sure he'll turn up."
"That's not the point."
"What's the point, then? Why can't I know my own father?"
"Because that's how it is." Her tone made it very clear that the conversation was over. With no additional information whatsoever. Faye Valentine: 1, Paige Valentine: 0.
"You may have won the battle," I said, in my best evil voice, "but you haven't won the war!"
"Oh shut up, go get ready for school."
(A/N- yep, the infamous sucky start-off chapter! But it'll get better. Oh yes, it WILL get better. Or maybe I'm just rattling on and should shut the hell up. Either way, R&R, s'il vous plait!)