I don't own Cowboy Bebop or Spike or Vicious or anything else really. I'm
poor. Just playing.
Back to Back
By JayJay Bakes
Spike leaned back in the seat. "I don't like this."
Vicious, in the driver's seat, looked out the window. "It's three minutes passed." He said in his low voice, without looking at his watch.
They were in a slick, dark blue car, parked near the corner of a long stretch of dirty road. Tall brick buildings lined around them, spreading dark shadows. It was almost dawn, and whatever light remained was dim in the surrounding shadows. They were looking across the road, at an apartment building door. It remained still, much to their disappointment.
Moving in his seat, Spike pulled the handgun out from the back of his belt and slipped it in the left pocket of his long trenchcoat. He moved in his seat.
"What are you doing?" Vicious asked then, looking over.
Spike paused from opening the car door. He looked over his shoulder, "I'm going in." He said.
"Just wait, Spike." Vicious sighed, leaning back in his seat.
"You said it yourself, it's three minutes already. I'm gonna' go check if he's up there or not." He grasped the handle of the door.
"And if he's not?" Vicious said. "What then? What there's an ambush waiting for us up there?" His voice remained the same, cloaking his concern. "Who's gonna' have your back?"
"I will." Spike smiled back, over his shoulder. "I'll be back in a tick." He muttered as he opened the door and slid out.
"Spike!" Vicious called after him. Spike turned and leaned down. A handgun was extended out, butt first. "Take this, in case." Vicious said. "But you don't need to worry, anyway, 'cause I'm the only who can kill you."
Spike smirked and took the gun, shoved it in his right pocket, and closed the door. He walked across the road at a calm pace, scanning the area around him for movement. All he saw was papers flying in the cool breeze flowing down the road. As he made it the curb, near the door of the apartment building, he turned and glanced back at Vicious in the car. He was scanning the area too, looking out for anyone about to take a shot on him. Just then, their eyes connected for a moment and Spike opened the door of the building, slipping in.
Vicious watched as Spike disappeared from view. He had done well to hide his concern, but he knew deep down that Spike understood. Spike knew Vicious was worried for him just as Spike was for Vicious. They were friends, comrades; they had each other's back, the way it always was.
He took the gun from the glove compartment and left it on his lap. Vicious had given his gun to Spike, but always had the extra just in case, feeling he needed it now. He wished now that he had another with him, but realized he didn't. He grasped the extra clip in his pocket and for some odd reason, had the sudden feeling that Spike was going to die. He had just seen Spike for the last time.
His shoulders went taught. He grasped the wheel and looked forward, toward the door. Nothing, no movement about at all. His heart began to pump a little faster. He felt the veins in his hands popping up. He usually never got like this. But Spike was someone special to him. He was a rival, someone he was on the same level with, his equal almost. And he trusted him. Deep down, he was his friend, and all it was was that he wanted to make sure his friend was okay. Vicious knew it; there was nothing else, that's all it was.
When Spike walked to the top floor, he decided then to grasp the guns in his pockets. He had his hands in his pockets but seemed to keep them away from the cold death of the metal guns, and proceeded up the stairs.
It was a narrow stairway, one with walls following up on either side. It greatly obscured Spike's vision but as he made it to the top floor, he almost sighed when he saw no gunmen lying in wait for him. Then he realized he would have seen them anyhow, he would have been dead already if they're had been.
He approached the door with guns in hand, concealed under the pockets, and leaned close with his ear, listening. He heard little, but heard the familiar sound of feet grinding tiny pebbles of dirt. Which meat weight was being applied, which meant the person was kneeling. And if they were kneeling, they were either hiding or in a firing position. Either way, Spike smiled.
With fluid movement, Spike kicked the door open and twisted, falling back against the wall. A split second passed, and the fire erupted. Automatic shots burned the air, cracking the wood of the far wall and breaking apart the door that had been so recently kicked in. Spike let the shots run until they died down, waiting for the shooters to pause.
He rushed paused the door, flying past it before the shooters even realized he had. Spike ran to the end of the small hall and opened the window. He looked back and caught a glimpse of three men, all with automatic rifles in their hands, aiming toward him. He rolled, falling out the window onto the metal walkway, just as shoots flew over him.
Vicious grasped the gun in his lap as he saw men emerge from the shadows and run into the building. There were ten of them, some carrying automatic rifles, others carrying handguns.
The shots had snapped Vicious' attention, but as they rang out, he saw the men emerge and realized it was in fact an ambush, as he had thought.
He took into account that now Spike was not coming out the front door, that much was for sure. There was no escape that way. They had seen windows in the back of the apartment building early that day when Spike, himself, and Lin had done a drive-by, checking out the area.
"Always know your exits." Spike had told Lin in the car. "Never enter a situation you can't get out of."
The memory quickly faded as Vicious ignited the car to life. He peeled out, gaining speed, and held the gun in his right hand, driving with his left hand. The men at the door turned then, just seeing the car. Vicious drove quickly passed them, as he did, raising his arm and firing off three rounds into the group of men standing by the door. He saw two of them go down, and then floored it, as fire was returned. The back windshield cracked with oncoming fire, but held together.
He twisted the wheel between two hands, and spun around the corner, rushing down the road.
Spike dropped down into the alleyway. He had made it all the way down the metal walkway as the men came to the window, firing after him. The shots broke apart the garbage bags Spike had landed about, one scorching the air just about Spike's cheek, barely missing him.
Spike ran, just to see two men coming toward him, down the alley, raising rifles. Spike raised his guns, firing at the men. His shots hit their mark, both men dropping. He was almost surprised for a second and then turned on his heels, as more men appeared behind the fallen ones.
Shots rang out behind him as he charged forward, and he heard the sound of car wheels squelching.
Vicious had made his way to Spike with the car, but saw that men were firing at him from behind. Bring the car about, he squelched to a stop and kicked the door open. Vicious jumped out, firing at the men and hitting two of them. The rest turned and fired their rifles, just as Vicious dove for cover, firing up at them.
Bullets were flying all about. Spike was running and firing; he had lost his way for a moment. He looked about, wondering which way to go, then saw men around the corner. He stood and fired at them, raising both guns.
Vicious rose and continued to fire, taking down two more men. He jumped behind another alley and slid out the empty clip of his handgun, then fed the new one into it. He moved back down the alley, just as the men chased after him. He turned and fired, holding both hands on the gun. As he fired, he back bumped into something.
They knew in that moment and both smiled back, at each other.
"Don't want Mao to get upset!" Vicious yelled as he turned back and fired back.
"Or Julia!" Spike yelled back, smiling. Vicious, for an instant, didn't know if Spike was referring to Vicious' relationship with Julia or the relationship that Vicious had been suspecting between Spike and Julia. He had seen the two of them together. He wiped the thought out his head and fired.
Spike continued shooting; hitting most of the men he was aiming at. Vicious did the same, also hitting the targets with ease.
"Out!" Spike yelled over his shoulder.
Vicious turned and grabbed Spike's shoulder. "Down!" He yelled and Spike dropped. Vicious fired over him, hitting the men that had been firing at Spike, dropping the rest of them. Spike looked up and saw the automatic rifles lying among the dead bodies. "Go!" Vicious said, knowing his thoughts, turning and firing at the other men.
Spike leapt to his feet and ran with all his speed, dropping and rolling, grasping an automatic rifle between his hands.
Vicious fired, covering Spike, then felt his gun click empty. The men continued firing, now seeing he was empty. The fire came closer and closer then suddenly; their bodies jumped back, their chests ripping open with gunfire. Their bodies dropped and Vicious turned and looked back. Spike raised the smoking rifle and smiled at Vicious, then turned and fired the other way, at more oncoming men.
"Spike!" Vicious called, heading toward the car. Spike fired until the clip was empty then followed after Vicious, taking another rifle from the ground.
Vicious got in the passenger side, leaving the door open, sliding into the driver seat. The car was still on. Vicious put it in gear as Spike got in beside him. He floored the pedal, peeling out. Spike fired from the window as more men appeared and were hit back with fire from his rifle.
They raced away, Vicious taking turns with ease. Spike settled back in his chair and placed the rifle down. "Good thing we didn't bring Lin to watch!" He said. Vicious didn't reply.
They drove for another ten minutes, weaving in and out of traffic and then stopped between and alleyway, hiding there. Moments passed, and then more moments passed.
"Well, that was fun." Spike said, as he through the gun out the window, after he had dismantled it.
Vicious said nothing as he pulled the car out the alley and back into traffic. He drove in silence, images of Julia in his head. Images of Julia with him, images of Julia with Spike. He gripped the wheel tighter. Somehow, he knew it was all true. He felt it, deep down.
Spike smiled next to him, looking out window, as they drove back to the base, back home.
Author's note: Hope that was enjoyed! I really liked writing this, always wanted to see what friendship Spike and Vicious had! This has got a bunch on inside jokes from the series so I hope you've seen the series or else you won't appreciate this as much! Cheers! "I'll send those words back to you, Vicious."
Back to Back
By JayJay Bakes
Spike leaned back in the seat. "I don't like this."
Vicious, in the driver's seat, looked out the window. "It's three minutes passed." He said in his low voice, without looking at his watch.
They were in a slick, dark blue car, parked near the corner of a long stretch of dirty road. Tall brick buildings lined around them, spreading dark shadows. It was almost dawn, and whatever light remained was dim in the surrounding shadows. They were looking across the road, at an apartment building door. It remained still, much to their disappointment.
Moving in his seat, Spike pulled the handgun out from the back of his belt and slipped it in the left pocket of his long trenchcoat. He moved in his seat.
"What are you doing?" Vicious asked then, looking over.
Spike paused from opening the car door. He looked over his shoulder, "I'm going in." He said.
"Just wait, Spike." Vicious sighed, leaning back in his seat.
"You said it yourself, it's three minutes already. I'm gonna' go check if he's up there or not." He grasped the handle of the door.
"And if he's not?" Vicious said. "What then? What there's an ambush waiting for us up there?" His voice remained the same, cloaking his concern. "Who's gonna' have your back?"
"I will." Spike smiled back, over his shoulder. "I'll be back in a tick." He muttered as he opened the door and slid out.
"Spike!" Vicious called after him. Spike turned and leaned down. A handgun was extended out, butt first. "Take this, in case." Vicious said. "But you don't need to worry, anyway, 'cause I'm the only who can kill you."
Spike smirked and took the gun, shoved it in his right pocket, and closed the door. He walked across the road at a calm pace, scanning the area around him for movement. All he saw was papers flying in the cool breeze flowing down the road. As he made it the curb, near the door of the apartment building, he turned and glanced back at Vicious in the car. He was scanning the area too, looking out for anyone about to take a shot on him. Just then, their eyes connected for a moment and Spike opened the door of the building, slipping in.
Vicious watched as Spike disappeared from view. He had done well to hide his concern, but he knew deep down that Spike understood. Spike knew Vicious was worried for him just as Spike was for Vicious. They were friends, comrades; they had each other's back, the way it always was.
He took the gun from the glove compartment and left it on his lap. Vicious had given his gun to Spike, but always had the extra just in case, feeling he needed it now. He wished now that he had another with him, but realized he didn't. He grasped the extra clip in his pocket and for some odd reason, had the sudden feeling that Spike was going to die. He had just seen Spike for the last time.
His shoulders went taught. He grasped the wheel and looked forward, toward the door. Nothing, no movement about at all. His heart began to pump a little faster. He felt the veins in his hands popping up. He usually never got like this. But Spike was someone special to him. He was a rival, someone he was on the same level with, his equal almost. And he trusted him. Deep down, he was his friend, and all it was was that he wanted to make sure his friend was okay. Vicious knew it; there was nothing else, that's all it was.
When Spike walked to the top floor, he decided then to grasp the guns in his pockets. He had his hands in his pockets but seemed to keep them away from the cold death of the metal guns, and proceeded up the stairs.
It was a narrow stairway, one with walls following up on either side. It greatly obscured Spike's vision but as he made it to the top floor, he almost sighed when he saw no gunmen lying in wait for him. Then he realized he would have seen them anyhow, he would have been dead already if they're had been.
He approached the door with guns in hand, concealed under the pockets, and leaned close with his ear, listening. He heard little, but heard the familiar sound of feet grinding tiny pebbles of dirt. Which meat weight was being applied, which meant the person was kneeling. And if they were kneeling, they were either hiding or in a firing position. Either way, Spike smiled.
With fluid movement, Spike kicked the door open and twisted, falling back against the wall. A split second passed, and the fire erupted. Automatic shots burned the air, cracking the wood of the far wall and breaking apart the door that had been so recently kicked in. Spike let the shots run until they died down, waiting for the shooters to pause.
He rushed paused the door, flying past it before the shooters even realized he had. Spike ran to the end of the small hall and opened the window. He looked back and caught a glimpse of three men, all with automatic rifles in their hands, aiming toward him. He rolled, falling out the window onto the metal walkway, just as shoots flew over him.
Vicious grasped the gun in his lap as he saw men emerge from the shadows and run into the building. There were ten of them, some carrying automatic rifles, others carrying handguns.
The shots had snapped Vicious' attention, but as they rang out, he saw the men emerge and realized it was in fact an ambush, as he had thought.
He took into account that now Spike was not coming out the front door, that much was for sure. There was no escape that way. They had seen windows in the back of the apartment building early that day when Spike, himself, and Lin had done a drive-by, checking out the area.
"Always know your exits." Spike had told Lin in the car. "Never enter a situation you can't get out of."
The memory quickly faded as Vicious ignited the car to life. He peeled out, gaining speed, and held the gun in his right hand, driving with his left hand. The men at the door turned then, just seeing the car. Vicious drove quickly passed them, as he did, raising his arm and firing off three rounds into the group of men standing by the door. He saw two of them go down, and then floored it, as fire was returned. The back windshield cracked with oncoming fire, but held together.
He twisted the wheel between two hands, and spun around the corner, rushing down the road.
Spike dropped down into the alleyway. He had made it all the way down the metal walkway as the men came to the window, firing after him. The shots broke apart the garbage bags Spike had landed about, one scorching the air just about Spike's cheek, barely missing him.
Spike ran, just to see two men coming toward him, down the alley, raising rifles. Spike raised his guns, firing at the men. His shots hit their mark, both men dropping. He was almost surprised for a second and then turned on his heels, as more men appeared behind the fallen ones.
Shots rang out behind him as he charged forward, and he heard the sound of car wheels squelching.
Vicious had made his way to Spike with the car, but saw that men were firing at him from behind. Bring the car about, he squelched to a stop and kicked the door open. Vicious jumped out, firing at the men and hitting two of them. The rest turned and fired their rifles, just as Vicious dove for cover, firing up at them.
Bullets were flying all about. Spike was running and firing; he had lost his way for a moment. He looked about, wondering which way to go, then saw men around the corner. He stood and fired at them, raising both guns.
Vicious rose and continued to fire, taking down two more men. He jumped behind another alley and slid out the empty clip of his handgun, then fed the new one into it. He moved back down the alley, just as the men chased after him. He turned and fired, holding both hands on the gun. As he fired, he back bumped into something.
They knew in that moment and both smiled back, at each other.
"Don't want Mao to get upset!" Vicious yelled as he turned back and fired back.
"Or Julia!" Spike yelled back, smiling. Vicious, for an instant, didn't know if Spike was referring to Vicious' relationship with Julia or the relationship that Vicious had been suspecting between Spike and Julia. He had seen the two of them together. He wiped the thought out his head and fired.
Spike continued shooting; hitting most of the men he was aiming at. Vicious did the same, also hitting the targets with ease.
"Out!" Spike yelled over his shoulder.
Vicious turned and grabbed Spike's shoulder. "Down!" He yelled and Spike dropped. Vicious fired over him, hitting the men that had been firing at Spike, dropping the rest of them. Spike looked up and saw the automatic rifles lying among the dead bodies. "Go!" Vicious said, knowing his thoughts, turning and firing at the other men.
Spike leapt to his feet and ran with all his speed, dropping and rolling, grasping an automatic rifle between his hands.
Vicious fired, covering Spike, then felt his gun click empty. The men continued firing, now seeing he was empty. The fire came closer and closer then suddenly; their bodies jumped back, their chests ripping open with gunfire. Their bodies dropped and Vicious turned and looked back. Spike raised the smoking rifle and smiled at Vicious, then turned and fired the other way, at more oncoming men.
"Spike!" Vicious called, heading toward the car. Spike fired until the clip was empty then followed after Vicious, taking another rifle from the ground.
Vicious got in the passenger side, leaving the door open, sliding into the driver seat. The car was still on. Vicious put it in gear as Spike got in beside him. He floored the pedal, peeling out. Spike fired from the window as more men appeared and were hit back with fire from his rifle.
They raced away, Vicious taking turns with ease. Spike settled back in his chair and placed the rifle down. "Good thing we didn't bring Lin to watch!" He said. Vicious didn't reply.
They drove for another ten minutes, weaving in and out of traffic and then stopped between and alleyway, hiding there. Moments passed, and then more moments passed.
"Well, that was fun." Spike said, as he through the gun out the window, after he had dismantled it.
Vicious said nothing as he pulled the car out the alley and back into traffic. He drove in silence, images of Julia in his head. Images of Julia with him, images of Julia with Spike. He gripped the wheel tighter. Somehow, he knew it was all true. He felt it, deep down.
Spike smiled next to him, looking out window, as they drove back to the base, back home.
Author's note: Hope that was enjoyed! I really liked writing this, always wanted to see what friendship Spike and Vicious had! This has got a bunch on inside jokes from the series so I hope you've seen the series or else you won't appreciate this as much! Cheers! "I'll send those words back to you, Vicious."