(Alright! No notes of importance, 'cept, I don't own Bebop…blah blah. Let's ride!)
Lost Session Number One: Silver Star Sonata By: Catherine Bourgeois"Ha! Let's see you get out of that!" Faye exclaimed in victory, looking over the young woman tied to the chair. She was bundled with belts, ropes, anything the crew could find, and may have looked a little funny, but it worked. She was down, finally, leaving Faye with only a scratch or two on her face and a couple bruises elsewhere.
The girl only glared back with crystalline blue eyes, as if she were attempting to turn the older woman into ice. "You take me out of these…" she began calmly, then added with a stronger tone, "NOW!"
Faye scratched her ear with her finger, wincing a little. "Would you be quiet, already? I'm not going to let you out of those, and there's nothing you can do about it. I have…this, don't I?" She taunted the bound woman with her own silver berretta, then snatched it back and placed it in the back of her shorts. "I have all of your other weapons, too…those knives you were storing in your boots, and those smoke bombs in your pockets. And say good-bye to that nice leather jacket. Say, do you think that would look good on me?"
Angel frowned, then nearly fell over with her seat. "I swear, if you take that jacket from me, I will find a way to get out of this, or jail, or wherever they take me, and get it back, you understand?!"
She raised a brow, then twirled in the jacket a moment. It was a little less baggy on her than on the girl, but it fit better. It was a nice jacket, a racer's jacket, and leather too. Just the kind of thing Faye liked. But it only roughed up the girl more, and she scooted forwards a bit. "Stop that!"
She was truly serious about it. She didn't want anyone touching the jacket, for some odd reason. Faye took it as some type of memorabilia, so decided on not taking it. Instead, she checked the pockets and took out the objects within. A silver zippo, a pack of cigarettes, a money clip with a few thousand woolongs. "Mind if I take these?"
The girl shook her head vigorously. "No, just…just don't take the jacket. I need it…alright?" Her voice had gone soft. It was strange. Not stoic, nor harsh and unbearable, but gentle, caring and full of everything she was. If it really meant that much to her, than Faye wouldn't even touch it. Taking it would be like someone stealing her videocassette, and she knew how much that would hurt.
"Fine. Geez, you're real touchy about this pretty little jacket of yours. Not a big deal to me, anyways. Here, you can have it," she said, tossing the jacket at the young woman's feet. Besides, she thought the jacket was too heavy for her own thin frame.
Just as she began to walk out of the gear room, she noticed something. It was…quiet, for once. The bounty wasn't yelling, or screaming or whining, but being completely silent. It was a little strange, but Faye shrugged it off and continued towards the door. However, before she could even touch the handle, the door shot open and Spike appeared in the entrance. "What'd you do to her?!" he yelled, eyes covered by his brow. "I thought I told you not to kill her! What the hell do you think you were doing?"
Faye twitched slightly, then let a long, exasperated sigh escape. "She's not dead, just quiet."
Jet was quick behind him, slower by nature, and somewhat out of breath when he reached the room. "Quiet?! What did you do, give her mental problems? Oh, Faye…we can't turn in a tainted bounty, you know that."
Now both were on her case. Greeaat. She took out a cigarette from the package, setting it between her lips before trying out her new zippo. It sure worked smoothly, because as soon as she had taken it out, she had lit the cancer stick. "Lighten up," she simply commanded, then maneuvered around them to exit the room.
Spike yanked her back by the collar of her gold vest. "Wait a second, where do you think you're going?" he demanded. She rolled her eyes slightly, attempting to rid herself of his grasp.
"Leaving. I'd rather be doing something else than watching the kid," she replied, then shook free of his hand. "If you need someone to watch her, I'm sure Ed would do a great job."
"Ed? Are you crazy, Faye? Stop joking around, and get back here. You're supposed to be on watch. Remember, you're getting more than half of the bounty, so consider yourself lucky," Jet reminded, then extended an arm to block her exit with a smile.
With no where to go, she sighed once more, blowing a little bit of smoke in their directions on accident. "Fine, then. You two just go off and do your own things while I sit in here and rot…I swear, my beauty is being wasted in this dump."
"Excuse me?!" Jet exploded at the last comment. Faye only smiled her Cheshire cat smile, then turned towards the girl. "Nothing…" she murmured sweetly.
Then, under somewhat sorrowful eyes, the girl laughed. At first it was short, almost choppy. But then, it grew into a hearty one. "Beauty? That's a good one."
Faye's feelings matched Jet's. "WHAT WAS THAT?!" she shouted, then charged at the young woman in the chair. "I'm gonna get you for saying that!!" She would have very well pounced on the girl, but instead, Spike grabbed her by the collar again. "Gah…Spike, what are you stopping me for?! You get off so I can kick her-"
He didn't have to say anything, his expression showed it all. Blank. He hated the way women like Faye were so loud. Couldn't she just pipe down for once and let comments like that go? The girl was obviously trying to get at Faye, however, and Spike would have easily gotten mad at her smart-alic remarks. But she didn't have to hit her.
"Jet-person! Ein and Ed want some food…" a young voice whined. All of the commotion ceased, and their directions turned to the little redhead tugging on Jet's arm. "Jet-person…Ein and Ed hungry!"
"Huh? Who's that kid? Wait, is that a 'she' or a 'he'? I can't really tell…" the Angel spoke through the silence. She wanted to have not said anything after Ed's attention was brought upon herself. Ed was quick to jumping on her, looking at all sides of her.
"oOOOooo…new person! Silver hair, very pretty! Hai, hai!" Ed rambled in her usual up-beat tone, jumping about in an energetic fashion. It was much too late for jumping around like that, and Spike's head was starting to hurt at all of the events of the night.
"C'mon, Ed…I'll get you some dinner. Let's go find Ein," Jet stated, then grabbed her by the back of the shirt and carried her out of the gear room. And then there were three, once more.
Spike attempted to follow suit and leave, but was caught in the act. Faye grasped his jacket, pulling him back as he had already. "And where do you think you're going? If I have to sit here and play baby-sit, so do you, Spike Spiegel." Sure, she didn't want to be stuck with the work alone while everyone else was likely asleep, but that wasn't the only reason. It wasn't half bad to have him as company sometimes, even if they did like to tease each other.
He let out a long sigh, unhitching at the back in a slump. "Aw, man…C'mon, Faye, I'm tired." And that, too was true. He had been running everyday for the last week trying to find this pesky girl, and now that they had her in their grasp, he was ready for some serious R and R.
"Would you two let me out of these already?!" the girl chimed once more. It was like a clock…every five minutes she let out the same cry of despiration. And it wasn't one of those nice sounding chimes, it was a loud, shrill, annoying yell.
After cringing slightly, he started to leave. "Good luck, then, Faye." He grinned and started to pull the door open. It was really hot in the gear room, loud as well, so he was somewhat relieved at the breeze and the quiet.
"Do you really trust me that much? I could just leave with the bounty at any moment. One hundred billion for myself is much better than sixty billion," she informed with a sly smirk. She wouldn't do it, and Spike knew it. However, he came to the conclusion that she wasn't giving up, and he might as well just join her in watching the bounty.
"Alright. But let me get myself a beer first. I won't be staying up for more than five minutes without one. You want one, too?" he offered, pulling the door open further, then leaning on it. She couldn't help but look over him once or twice in that light. It was the light from the windows in the gear room shining on his face, the rest in shadows. She couldn't see all of him, accept his chiseled features and cunning smile, but was still caught in his figure. "Faye? You want one, too? Uh, Faye?"
She shook her head, then nodded. "Erm…yeah. Thanks." What is getting into me? Why was I just staring at him like that? God…I'm losing it, it must be getting really late. She sat down on the side of one of the warmed metal walls, watching the girl tied to the chair with interest. The Angel was being quiet again, and it confused Faye. At one moment, she was screaming at the top of her lungs, and the next, she was bowing her head with her eyes closed. She seemed even lonelier in the silhouette of the moonlight beyond the window, like somehow she was aching inside, screaming so loud that her ears were going to burst. It was a feeling Faye was familiar with.
It had been many a time that she was slumped over her knees like that, crying because no one could hear her scream. It was a constant yell in the back of her head, and she couldn't ignore it. It was a longing to find her past, the constant hope to know what she was so long ago.
And suddenly, she asked nearly out of the blue, "Are you alright?" It was a tone that seemed to come from somewhere else. It was warm, almost matronly, and she found herself closer to the chair. The girl only stared back, unable to answer through her forming tears upon her eyes. "Are you crying or something?"
"I…I'm sorry…" she mumbled. But Faye let her brow raise slightly. What if the Angel was only tricking her as she had tricked the men in the bars? How could Faye trust the girl? Only moments ago, they had guns at each others' throats. Moreover, how could the Angel trust her so willingly? Trust would have to be attained before they could be nice to each other.
Just as she started to scoot back towards the wall, she felt something beneath her hand. A photograph? She must not have seen it fall out when she was wearing the jacket. As she surveyed the people in it, the Angel looked up and saw her going through her things. "Hey! Don't touch that, either!"
Could it be…? Her breath caught in her chest as she looked over the picture. It was a group of school girls, complimented by a few boys behind them. Their uniforms were identical, but their faces and hair varied. In the center was a tall, purple haired girl next to a taller silver haired girl. They were dead ringers for the girls in the video cassette, including Faye herself.
Spike sighed softly as he rummaged through the refrigerator. The wontons Jet had fried earlier were tucked under his arms, as well as various other munch-able items of food. Near the back was a stash of canned beer, and he brought a couple of those as well.
It was going to be a long night, but no matter. At least he'd be eating well, it had been a while since such a accumulation of food had even touched the Bebop. Humming quietly, he started to make his way back to the gear room with bendy legs.
The lights were off, Jet must have turned them off after he made dinner a little while ago. Maybe he was down the hall, trimming his beloved bonsai before going to bed. Whatever it was, the only ones in the Bebop that were known to Spike were himself and Faye, as well as the Angel. Or so he thought.
"Give her to me," a deep voice echoed through the vast darkness, the quiet disrupted and rippled by the voice. It was clearly Irish, and he only knew one person, to his recollection, that had a voice like that.
"Who? Faye? I'm sorry, but she's a little busy at the moment," he replied calmly, not even startled by the voice. Knowing what was going to behind him, he turned with a smile and continued to hold his late night snack close. "But I'm sure she'd be happy to see you."
He was tall, almost the same height as Spike, but a little more muscular. His torso was clad in a white and red T-shirt, sewed like a baseball shirt without the long sleeves. His pants were blue, baggy down to where it covered his tennis shoes, his pockets covered in yellow. Over his face was a mask, painted with a stripe down the center in the color of black. "You know who I'm talking about."
"Do I?" he asked in a seemingly unknowing voice. But this only made the man's voice go angrier, and he stepped forwards to take a grasp of his tie.
"I want the Angel."
(Alright…can you guess what that photo is all about? And who's the dude in the mask? These are all pretty simple questions, so I expect easy answers! Next chapter will be up…soon, by demand of Chelsey! Oh, and I expect some serious reviews, people! Hey, I'll do you one even better. You include the name of one of your stories, and I'll read and review for you, too! Yay-ness!)
See ya, Space Cowboy…