Jet was setting out dinner for himself and his family when the comm lit up. "Spike, would you get that?" he shouted, trying to be heard above the 'friendly' argument over a video game in the front room. Spike, his six year-old son, withdrew with a parting shot that made the other two howl indignantly and walked to the vid-phone, pressing the button to accept a call. Jet smiled as he heard the boy answer.
"Black's place. What do you want?"
The response, however, made him jump.
"Is Jet-person there?" Ed's voice rang loud and clear through his mind. He hadn't heard from her since she walked away from them all on Earth all those years ago, but he would never have forgotten her. Who could? He sprang for the comm, grabbing it out of his son's hand before he could answer the girl.
"Ed? That you?"
"Who else would it be, silly?" she asked, grinning and standing on her head. She hardly looked older at all, despite eight intervening years. Her hair was longer, he noticed. Harder to mistake her for a boy now.
"How've you been?" he asked, leaning against the comm unit, grinning. He would never have admitted it eight years ago, but the young woman before him had once been as dear to him as his sons were now. "Haven't heard from you in a long time."
"I know," she said, an uncharacteristically solemn look taking over her face. "I've been... busy." She looked aside from the screen. "I called because I found something, and I want your help."
"What is it?" he asked, concerned.
"See for yourself," she said, still not smiling. She typed in a few commands off-screen before disappearing from view. Replacing her was an image that made Jet's heart stop. Spike, grinning grainily into a security camera. "This was taken yesterday," Ed's voice said from the background. "On Ganymede."
"It can't be..." Jet muttered. "It can't be. Spike?"
"Yes?" The boy looked back at his father.
"No, not you," Jet said, waving him off. "Go play." He lowered his voice, speaking to the screen. "Is it him?"
Ed's image came back on screen, nodding sagely. "As far as the net knows. I set up a face-know system, and it's been running for four years. Most of it, I use to find bounty-heads, but to test it, I set it to search for Spike-person, and then, I just never turned it off. "I knew he was dead, that it would never find him, but..." Righting herself, she shrugged eloquently. "Ed was wrong."
Jet shook his head, trying to make sense of this. "I saw him dead," he said to her. "I was the one to claim his body from the morgue, you know. Vicious had carved him up with that damned sword of his, and he'd been shot at least twice. There's no way he came back to life. I.. I buried him at space, over Mars. It's what I thought he would have wanted." He raised his voice, trying not to let the prickles in his eyes turn to tears. "He's dead, Ed. I don't know who that is, but it's not Spike!"
Suddenly, a beeping startled Ed. "Subject found," said her computer. She just stared at it for a second, then turned back to the screen.
"Well, it's not-Spike again." She brought up an image of the green-haired man standing at a credit booth. "Oh, what luck!" she explained. "Now I can find out who he is, or who he says he is, anyway." She flipped back onto her head as her toes typed commands into the computer. "Searching, searching, finding, found!"
"Well, who is he?" Jet asked, anxious despite himself. Ed hummed to herself as she tapped keys with her toes, and a digital fish brought up one screen of data, than another.
"Hmmm," she said. "Card holder is one Mr. Nameless. This card does not exist, but he buys souvenirs with it. Curious." Her tapping sped up, and her face, though still upside down, grew serious. "It's from high-up, this secret name. Someone doesn't want people to know who Spike-not-Spike is. Oh?!"
On the screen with the Spike look-alike, things were happening. A car drove up slowly in the background, long and black. The green-haired man, seeing its reflection in the glass of the booth, stiffened, and his hand went to a bulge under his arm, drawing a black pistol. When the first shot issued from the car, he leapt out of the camera's field of view, firing a shot back. After that, all that Jet and Ed could see was the car and the men that fired from behind its broken windows, shouting silently to each other. Suddenly, a stray bullet hit the camera, and the scene dissolved into grey static.
"What? Get it back!" Jet yelled, grabbing the screen.
"Sorry," replied Ed in a sing-song voice. "No can do, Jet-person. Camera gone."
"Arggh!" he said, punching the wall next to him.
"What, Jet-person? Worried? I thought you said this wasn't Spike." Ed's voice was sly, as she turned a slow cartwheel to land on her feet, her eyes never leaving the screen.
"It can't be," he growled. "But... who else can it be?"
"No one at all," she said cryptically. "A ghost."
"No such thing as ghosts." Jet pulled a chair over, sat down in it. He needed a drink.
"Then it's Spike." Ed chirped, rocking back on her heels. "I'm on Earth, in Nova-Seattle. Come and get me, and I'll show you where we can find him. Oh," she added, winking. "And bring Faye-person if you want." With a blip, the screen went dark.
{Unfortunately, Cowboy Bebop still belongs to someone who isn't me. On the other hand, my birthday is on Monday! Who knows what'll happen.
Spike: You already told me. You're getting a car.
Oh, I am, aren't I? *huge grin* And a bright red convertible at that. Perfect for Bishi-hunting!}
