I think it's time to blow this thing, get everybody and their stuff together…okay, 3…2…1…let's jam.
(Okay, okay, enough of the intro, it's nothing like the kick ass jazz from the show. Here's my own little set of credits. I don't own Cowboy Bebop, which is hella obvious, seeing as though I'm a 15 year old from the U.S…Anyways, if I did own it, you'd be able to tell because Faye and Spike would have been together by now. And added to that, Gren wouldn't have his little 'problem'. But, I don't, and they haven't and Gren is still a man/woman…v.v" Whee! Alright, let's do this thing. This is dedicated to Chelsey and Kim, you both like this show more than I do, so this is more for you.)
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Anyone could have easily confused her with a real angel. She was beautiful, with pale skin and flowing silver hair, her eyes a sparkling blue as clear as the waves of the sea. Yet, her clothing gave her away. Nothing more than a bounty hunter, as her baggy pants and tank top suggested.
With gestures as smooth and gentle as one could be, she reached into her oversized leather jacket, pulling out a cigarette, lodging it between her lips. Quickly, her hand flicked outward, and open came her zippo, the flame burning on the end of the paper. Just as swiftly as she had taken it out, she replaced it in her pocket.
Her breath of smoke came out slowly, clouding with the rest of the haze above her. It was different, with a tint of cocoanut flavor in it. It was a strange scent, but somehow hypnotizing to any around her.
"Excuse me, lovely, but I couldn't help but notice you came in here all alone! Well, I thought I might be able to change that," a young man said, taking a seat across from her at the table, leaning on one of his tattooed hands.
Although her eyes were beautiful and innocent looking, they quickly went dangerous and foreboding. "What did you say?" she said slowly, her tone deep and almost silent.
The man gave a smile and leaned towards her. "Oh, don't worry, lovely, I'm not here to hurt you."
Without even a flinch, she instantly pulled a silver berretta, shoving the barrel onto his lips. Her body moved closer, and she whispered calmly in his ear, "You should know better than to approach the Silver Angel…and call me that one more time, so help me, I will drive this bullet so deep into you, you will feel it come out the other end…you catch my drift? No, it would not be very pleasant…"
The man's eyes went wide in fear, his body shaking. "Oh, c'mon, lovely, you can't be the Silver Angel, can you?" he asked between clenched teeth. His heart beat faster and faster, the fear building in him.
"I thought I told you…" she began, then whispered, "Bang!" With only the sudden word and a jerk of her hand, the man had actually believed he had been shot. But in actuality, he was only frightened.
He began to scream wildly, grasping the attention of the patrons of the bar. With an eye going small, she glanced around at all of the gathering eyes, then warned, "Okay, bastard, shut the hell up before I blow your fucking brains out!"
Cowboy Bebop
Lost Session 1: The Silver Star Sonata
"What's your position, Spike?" Jet asked into his communicator as he peered through the window of the bar. He was balancing on a mass of cardboard boxes and refuse, looking through the slit of a window that lied near the roof of the wall. Most would have called him strange, standing on the garbage cans that were situated beside the main entrance to the bar.
Spike's reply was quick. "The fire escape near the back exit. You still got the front?" he asked, crouched on the ladder like a preying animal. At any moment he could have slipped off of the wet metal; it had rained on Mars for two days straight and the bars were less than sturdy.
"Yeah…I kinda wonder if I fit in, though…" he mumbled, staring back at the passerbys that greeted him with unkind looks. They swiftly made their exit more quickly than before. Jet smiled. "Scratch that, I'm good. Any sign of the Angel?"
His comrade shook his head, as if Jet could see it. "Nope. Maybe we were just a little late."
Jet peered in further. "I sure as hell hope not. If she's not here, I'm gonna be pissed," he replied, scratching the back of his nearly bald head with his mechanical arm.
Spike laughed a little, then straightened up as a gunshot was heard within. "Holy shit, Jet, did you hear that?!"
"Yeah…go ahead and move in, but be careful, alright?"
"You know me all too well, Jet. Over and out."
With that, they both shut off their communicators, leaving Spike with a feeling of adventure and Jet with one of uneasiness. They made their ways in through their separate entrances, ready with their weapons in case the Angel made any quick moves.
But on the contrary, when they got inside of the bar, only the reminents of her were there. A man was slumped over in his chair, blood splattered like a child's painting on the wall behind him. Many of the patrons were stricken with horror as they stared at the dead man and his insides, others were just plain numb looking.
Jet halted quickly at the entrance, staring at what was left of the suitor. He shook his head with a sigh. "Do these guys ever learn?" he asked himself with disbelief, clapping a hand on his forehead.
Spike slipped through the back, running in with his firearm prepared. Once he stopped inside, amidst the group of people, he saw. "Not again…Awww, man."
They had missed her, once again. This wasn't just a seldom occurrence, either. It was just plain stupid how many times they had gone after her, and yet again, she had run off without them even catching a glimpse.
"Where'd she go?" he asked, then turned his question to the crowd. "Where'd she go?!"
The people glanced at Spike, already stunned from the shooting, now even more startled by him. Many just remained silent, others stared back as if they wanted to speak. It was just the same old thing, the same old crowd, the same old scene.
One man stepped out, brushing a hand through his orange hair. "She ran, don't ya know? I would think by now, you bounty hunters would smarten up." He was tall, built with muscle but still thin. His face was angular, which looked a bit strange in contrast to his blatantly Irish features: green eyes and freckles. He was the kind of guy that could be a challenge to Spike, but there was no way he could take the man seriously with that Irish accent of his.
"I know she ran," he stated back, raising a brow. "I asked where she ran, all right? So be a buddy and just tell me, without all of the bullshit."
He only grinned, then stepped forwards, his boots clunking heavily on the wood floors. "Anyone here tells either of them where she went, and I'll blow your brains out personally."
The people in the bar pulled back near the walls in fright, as if some type of acid had sprung from his words and they didn't dare touch it. Jet frowned. "Never mind that, Spike. She's getting away, let's just go."
After looking the man in the eye for merely a moment, he sprung forwards towards the door. "Yeah, let's go."
Who was that guy? He definitely wasn't someone from a syndicate, nor from the military or the police. But there was something stately about him, something that made Spike think he was from the ranks of some type of organization. It was in the way he commanded everyone in threats without even the show of firepower.
Stupid thoughts…Spike thought, trying to get his mind back on the bounty. He wasn't just chasing any old bounty head, this was the real deal. The real McCoy. One hundred billion woolongs. It was enough to let a man live his life without a care in the world. It was the kind of cash that would let Jet and he live in high style. He wasn't about to let her slip through his fingers again, like she had so many times.
Jet slowed his pace as he approached the intersection of alleyways. "Which way, do you think?"
After meeting his pace, Spike scratched his head as he surveyed the surrounding area. "I don't have any idea."
His companion scoffed. "Lot's of help you are, Spike. Thanks, really."
As if a clue in their search, Spike's communicator gave off one of it's usual beeps, meaning he had a frequency calling him. Placing it before both of them, he switched it on. None other than…
"Faye? What do you want?" he asked a bit rudely, yet good natured at the same time. It wasn't that he hated her, even disliked her. But she just really wasn't his style. She was a high roller, a woman on the edge. It was a bit aggravating how she came in and out like a vagabond, only when she was in need of help any money. If she didn't have such an affinity for cold hard cash, maybe he would have gone a bit softer on her.
Her purple haired, pale faced image smiled across the foggy screen. "Hey, there, Spike and Jet. I just thought I'd call about an important lead."
"Important lead? On what?" Jet asked, intrigued.
"You know, the Silver Angel girl."
The words piqued Spike's interest. "Where is she?" he asked urgently, taking a quick glance around the rainy alleyways in hope that the girl would pop out of some corner, thinking she couldn't be seen.
"Want her location? It comes at a price."
It just figured. Anything of Faye's came at a price, and it was usually a high one. And with a bounty like this, if she wanted 60/40, then she was getting sixty billion woolongs for herself. Jet grunted. "Name it," he commanded, showing his tire of her games in his tone.
She grinned and leaned towards the screen. "Let's see…sixty percent."
Their already sour looks went worse. "No," they both chimed. How did they know that she was going to say that? Moreover, how did she know that they would reply in that way? Because it happened all too often to count.
"Oh, that's too bad. Looks like I'll just swoop down and catch her myself," she said matter-of-factly, ready to disconnect the signal.
"No! Wait! What about forty?" Jet offered.
"Forty?!"
"Fifty…?" he added.
"Alright! It's a deal! Now, the information…it should come up on the screen in just a sec!" she informed happily, leaning back in her seat.
Spike looked to Jet with his brows lowered and raised in a tilted line. "What did you do that for?" he asked calmly, a bit confused at why he would make a deal that quickly.
Jet shook his head. "We need the information now, or else she's going to get away. The only good idea is to get the direct stuff from Faye, alright?"
After shrugging, Spike took a look at the screen. A new picture had taken place. Instead of Faye's grinning face, there was a digital map with green, blue, purple, and silver dots on it. The green and blue were labeled "Jet" and "Spike" and the purple, far away, was labeled "Faye". The silver dot was quickly making its way across the screen, through the alleyways nearby.
"Ah ha! This way, c'mon!" shouted Spike, following the path of his communicator towards the silver dot. It was so close, but she was quick.
"I'm gonna help, alright?" Faye said in more of a statement than a question. Her dot was quick on the move from off of the screen to the middle, near the silver. She was quickly approaching the Silver Angel before Spike and Jet could even close in. The green dot, falling behind slightly, was about to fall off the screen.
"Hurry up, Jet!" Spike called, leaping over a heap of garbage cans in the alley. He glanced up at the sound of a zipcraft passing by, then grasped onto the fire escape that led to a rooftop.
Jet slid around the wet corner, the pounding of his feet on the ground splashing the puddles onto his clothing. "Oh, shit…sometimes I just hate this job…" He was getting soaked head to toe with the dirty water, making him smell like he had been living on the street for weeks. After roughly wiping his face, he continued on in Spike's path.
Nearly leaping up the ladder, he reached the top and tumbled onto the roof. He then matched up the communicator picture with reality, watching as Faye's zipcraft landed on a nearby rooftop. All Spike had to do was play Superman and jump across a few alleyways. They weren't that wide, if he had enough of a head start, he could jump them without a problem.
Just as he started to run, Jet reached the top of the ladder. His breath was heavy and panting, trying to catch up as he took a rest. Jet watched as Spike leapt with his long stride across the alleyway gap. And miraculously, he reached the other side with only a roll. After getting to his feet, he continued to dash towards the next roof.
"What in the hell…? If he thinks I'm doing that, he's insane," stated Jet, then just rested his weight on the bars of the ladder. It was a good resting place, seeing as though he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.
Faye stepped out of her zipcraft, landing her white boots on the dirty, wet ground of the rooftop. In her frail grasp was a colt, cocked and loaded, ready to be fired. Before her was a woman, standing on the edge of the building. The wind was blowing the leather jacket in her hand in the air, as well as whipping her silver hair around her face. The baggy clothing seemed to push behind her, defining her thin figure.
"Do not come any nearer," the stoic voice demanded. The lights of the city flickered in her eyes dangerously, as if to caution the bounty hunter the same as her words.
But Faye, who loved money more than any thing in the world, persisted towards the bounty head. "Scared? Well, all you have to do is just step down and come with me, and I won't hurt you. How about it?"
As the Angel moved her arm, the lights now reflected off of the berretta in her torso holster. Her hand now levitated above it, ready to unveil its power. She grinned as her hand took a hold of it and slung the barrel towards the hunter. "I do not make deals with your kind. Now, back away before you are the one in pain."
Spike took the last jump, almost faltering in his technique, but landed it as gracefully as a lanky man could. "Phew…that was close…" he mumbled, then looked up to see the two women pointing their weaponry at each other. "Hey…wait a sec, Faye, what the hell do you think you're doing?! You're going to get yourself killed! She's a sure shot, especially at your range!"
Faye was unmoved by his words, and she only continued on. "You're one of those, are you? Well, let me tell you that you don't scare me, because you don't." She stopped a few feet from the other woman, to the point in which her pistol was level with the Angel's.
The Angel's grin widened, to the point that her glossy teeth shone, and her berretta lowered to Faye's forehead. "You do not understand, do you? I am the Silver Angel. There are reasons for that, as well. I do not have the time to explain these to you, however. I have a previous engagement I must attend. But if you are stubborn enough to not lower your arms, I will be forced to make you do so."
Spike sighed. "That girl gets herself into more than she can handle…looks like I'm going to have to fix this…" he mumbled, then made his way over to the two women, a hand in his pocket and the other toting a weapon.
It was always like this. She always thought she could do things herself, and Spike was the one cleaning up her messes. His nerves were at their ends, but if she got killed, he wasn't sure how he'd feel. Would he be angry? Likely. Sad? Probably not…well…maybe. You couldn't just answer those kinds of questions. Their relationship was more complex than he cared for, one of somewhat caring camaraderie, but then again, each man for himself. She was always getting on his nerves so much that he couldn't pinpoint whether he really liked her or not. But, she was sort of part of their crew, and she was a human being, so he might as well help her out.
"C'mon, Faye, stand back," he said in his usually matter-of-factly tone, a lazy drawl in his low voice. "Don't do something stupid and let yourself get killed by this lady. Now, you, Miss Silver Angel. Come quietly, won't you?"
Faye sighed heavily, not wanting to stand down on one hand, but there was nothing she could do. Spike was taking control of the situation, like usual, and she knew how dangerous it would be to get the Angel mad and get Spike shot. Not that she cared, mind you, but that she didn't want a bloody mess.
Not that she cared? She was only kidding herself. Of course, she cared. His well being was on her mind whenever he got himself into a jam, and as much as she wanted to deny it, it was clear. He was handsome, and clearly intelligent. And strong…she could go on all day about how well he was in hand to hand. She shook her head, ridding her mind of thoughts of him.
With a gentle hand, Spike pushed down the barrel of the woman's weapon, towards the ground where it was safe. He grinned a little at the Angel, trying to make friends before he ended up like the man at the bar. "Now, now."
The woman smiled in return, dropping her pistol to the rooftop. "I apologize…here, I'll go with you…" she said quietly, then stepped down off of the ledge. Just as she did so, a fist came flying towards Spike's jaw. But just as fast as she had punched, Spike's hand was lifted and caught her fist before the impact.
Without any words spoken, he turned her fist behind her back, grasping her other arm. "Now, now. As I told you. Come quietly. We're not going to hurt you. Just send you in for that big ass bounty on your head."
Faye bent down and snatched up the Angel's berretta, taking into her own possession. "This looks like it will be mine for a while, won't it?" she said with a chuckle, then started to her zipcraft. "I'll call Jet and tell him to meet us."
"You bastards! Let me go! I swear, I'll kill the both of you when I get a chance! You let me go right now! I'm warning you!" the Angel screamed. Her tone was much different, like that of a child, instead of a sturdy, calm voice. Although she squirmed in his grasp, her strength was nothing compared to his own. Still, she was a challenge for Spike, which most women weren't.
The purple haired woman sighed, then stared the Angel in the eye. "Would you be quiet already? You've lost, alright? Your bounty is…is ours! Spike, we got the bounty! THE bounty! Can you believe this?!" Her level of excitement changed rapidly through her speech, and Spike frowned. "Oh, geez…not two screaming women…Help…Jet…"
But then again, he couldn't help but be excited. Twenty five billion woolongs, the places you could go, the people you could find.
(The end, chapter one! You guys excited yet? So, I'll leave you with a few little things to gnaw on. Who's that guy from the bar with the Irish accent? What's his power and his past? What's up with that Angel lady? Why does she kill and why is she so difficult to beat? And for all you Ed lovers out there ((I know you're there, I can see you!)), she's in the next chapter. But as you can see already, this is going to be the bounties and our favorite couple all the way!)
See you later, Space Angel…
