The Best Part of Waking Up:

The bodies had been thrown overboard in the early hours of the morning when it seemed like absolutely every damn fisherman on Mars was awake. In rather inconspicuous movements Jet had disposed of them one at a time, looking as innocent as one could while slipping corpses wrapped up in black plastic into the calm waters. Lucky for him five in the morning usually yielded little light.

Now the remaining intruders were tied up and handcuffed to the Bebop's many railings, all of them in the common room where Spike and Faye were able to watch them if they would only put their minds to it.

A grunt of pain. An angry shriek.

"Stop fighting me! You're such a damn baby!"

"I am not! You're the one trying to kill me!"

The muscles in Jet's face seemed to sink lower the higher the decibel rose. They would never get along, no matter what happened, no matter what horrors they faced, he told himself for the millionth time. He had to face it. Never, ever, ever. He tossed a few peppers, hearing them sizzle and wondering if it would ever end, imagining what it would take before they ever spoke to each other civilly. The end of the world? The greatest bounty ever? Dinner of bell peppers and beef?

"I'm sorry!" Faye shouted and Jet glanced up in surprise, his cigarette hanging half out of his mouth.

Oh?

And a moment later Spike shouted in pain and it was loud enough to have even Ed pull her head out of the empty fridge. "Spike-person is being horribly murdered!" she whispered in awe, amber eyes blinking toward the end of the hallway where the sounds came from.

"Are you trying to kill me?!"

The furious statement was answered with an impatient growl. "You can do it by yourself, you don't need me! How damn hard is it to sit still? For a second? One stupid little second?"

"Next to you? Just fucking shoot me." And then came the dreaded pause. "What are you doing with that needle?"

She mumbled something and for that small tender moment there was nothing but blissful silence. Then came the sounds of a mad scuffle, the sound of the table being rammed aside, the sound of impending doom. Jet looked down the hallway to see that one of the four intruders had awoken and by the look on his face he was wishing he had stayed unconscious. He set down the pan of bell peppers and began to stomp down the corridor just as Spike landed on the floor, scrambling to escape.

"Jet!"

He instantly turned back around, waving his cybernetic arm. "I don't know and I have no opinion," came his usual response.

Faye landed on Spike's back, yanking at his fuzzy green hair. She brandished the needle maliciously, straddling him. "It'll only hurt for the rest of your life-"

The intruder's face paling, his eyes rolled up into the back of his head and he fell unconscious once more.

"Jet! I swear to God I'll hit her!" Spike shouted in desperation.

"Someone already beat you to it!"

"Spike-person is bleeding," Ed stated helpfully, pointing.

Faye paused as Spike stopped in mid-struggle, glancing toward his bare shoulder. Sure enough the previous gunshot wound was bleeding through its bandage. Faye quickly got up off him and he turned onto his rear and inspected the damage.

"Aw, shit."

"See?" she motioned. "Now I have two wounds to stitch up! You're giving me twice the work-"

"No fucking way!" Spike shouted at her and he noticed that at this angle from the floor she seemed a hell of a lot more imposing, especially with that shiny needle in her hand. "You are not sewing me up!"

Faye looked toward the cook as he reached the kitchen once more. "Jet!"

"Nope." He was not about to hear it.

Faye grumbled, her fist trembling, and as she looked at Spike once more she tossed her hair with a small, "Hmph!" and plopped back down on the couch, waving the needle wildly. "Fine. Bleed to death. See if I care." She leaned forward to put on the tv.

"Finally. A good idea," Spike mumbled, still examining the wound. He grimaced as he slowly tugged at the tape holding the gauze to the gunshot wound and then began to pull back the soaked bandage.

Faye watched him out of the corner of her eye.

He pulled the bandage free, one eye narrowing cynically, and tossed it onto the table where it plopped and splattered.

"Hey! Oh, ewww!" Faye shouted, her face contorting. "That's disgusting!"

"You've seen worse," he snorted, staring at his wound with narrowed eyes.

Faye sat forward once more. "Let me just look at it!" she tried again.

"No," Spike stated and he shoved Ein away as the data dog sniffed at him, lifting a paw to his knee. "Get away, cannibal." He ignored the dog's whimper as he rose unsteadily and floated down the corridor, poking at his wound.

Ed watched him, a finger to her bottom lip. "Spike-person is the same," she murmured, still in front of the open fridge.

Jet shooed her out of the way, closing it. "What's that you said?" he asked brusquely and he glanced up as Faye came out into the hallway, hesitant.

"When Spike-person left, Bebop was sad," Ed explained with wide eyes. "And now that Spike-person is back, Bebop is still sad." And she pointed at Faye.

The female bounty hunter noticed them watching her and she instantly gave them both the finger before whirling and storming back into the living room.

"Nothing's changed, huh, Ed?" Jet said softly.

Ed did not respond but Jet understood.

Faye paused outside the door to the bathroom, listening for a moment, the needle still in her hand. He was still inside, she could hear the water running. From the kitchen came the sound of plates and utensils being shifted about and she glanced over quickly before rapping on the door before her. "Hey, Spike. Come on-"

"No."

She felt her eyebrow twitch. "You don't even know what I'm about to ask you!" she growled.

"You're about to ask me if I would seriously let you stitch me up like a torn stuffed animal," he replied above the sound of the rushing water.

"I've stitched you up before!" she cried indignantly.

"Oh, is that where that scar came from?" he threw at her through the door.

Faye tried to stop the murderous anger inside. "All right, that's it. Open the damn door or I'm coming in!"

"No way!" he shouted. "Besides, what if I were taking a crap? Would you still try to get in?!" he sounded absentminded as he said it and the water slowed a bit.

"Like I would ever want to see you taking a crap," she mumbled and a moment later the door slid open. She recoiled a bit in surprise and he merely glared at her, bent over the sink. Uncertainly she entered the small bathroom, looking around to make sure there was nothing about to jump out and surprise her. Once sure she was safe she glanced down. The sides of the sink were littered with bloody gauze strips and the blood running down his arm showed no sign of slowing.

Spike rubbed his eyes wearily with his one good hand, hunched over the sink. He looked pale and tired. Beaten. She stared at him for a moment, silently, and he lowered his hand back to the side of the sink, waiting for her.

"You can stop staring at me now," he said to her and he lifted his head to look at himself in the small bathroom cabinet mirror, squinting at his reflection. He obviously saw the same thing she saw for he bowed his head once more, averting his gaze.

She wondered what he thought in that one moment, having seen himself. If he had liked what he had seen in himself.

With an inward sigh she tapped the console and allowed the door to slide closed behind her. "All right, slide over. Sit on the toilet seat."

Wordlessly he did as she asked, which did sort of surprise her a bit. He plopped down heavily, his long legs stretching out before him and she pulled free a towel from the small rack on the wall, quickly handing it to him.

"Jet's going to kill you," he mumbled as he applied it to the wounds, the first being an angry looking hole close to his shoulder, the second a swollen graze barely inches away.

"Jet's going to kill you," she corrected as she bent and picked up the first aid kit from under the sink. The metal box was cold to the touch as was the floor and most likely the toilet tank Spike leaned against. She quickly picked up the soiled gauze pads and tossed them into the wastebasket, clearing the sink and opening the first aid kit with one hand. Almost like an expert, she thought with a small measure of pride. She was going to have to disinfect her hands and the needle once more and she set upon the task silently as Spike shifted, his head leaning far enough back to rest against the wall behind the toilet tank. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply and he was painfully thin, she realized. He had been thin before, always lanky, with ridiculously clunky shoes but now that she gazed at him he was almost malnourished, his skin a shade too pale. She turned her face away knowing he would make a crack if he happened to open his eyes to catch her staring at him. She didn't need a repeat of what had gone down before when he had first shown up. Which was a reminder. He still hadn't explained why he was back nor what had happened.

Finished with the disinfecting, she began to string some thread competently. "So, what have you been up to?" she asked him quietly, feeling very uncomfortable. She wanted to open the door to allow some familiar noise to filter through, even the noise of the television, but at the same time she wanted it quiet so that she could work. It was not going to be pretty.

"I've been bleeding to death, if you really need to know," he drawled, his eyes still closed. He shifted again, his hand pulling at the knees of his loose fitting dark pants.

Faye rolled her eyes as she crouched beside him, fitting herself between the toilet bowl and the sink. "Are you ever going to explain where you went off to after the whole thing with Vicious and…um, Julia?" she asked reluctantly.

"Maybe one day," he sighed, sounding as if he were barely there.

Faye lifted her hand to his and tugged at the towel, silently urging him to remove his hand. His fingers loosened and she looked at the towel for a moment. Yeah, Jet was definitely going to kill someone over that towel. She soaked a clean edge with alcohol and dabbed at the first wound, the graze. "I think you owe us more than a 'Maybe one day'," she murmured to him, squinting at the graze critically. That one would be an easy one to fix.

"Faye," he said sleepily, "I don't owe you shit."

She looked at him quickly, her eyes widening. And then, anger sparking inside her, she rubbed at the graze, wiping away the drying blood roughly. He grimaced, his eyes opening into slits, and he looked at her.

"Watch it-"

She ignored him for a moment, still dabbing and then she tossed aside the towel, going in with the needle with all the care of a MAC truck. "Why?" she demanded through clenched teeth as his jaw tightened, his frame stiffening. "I don't owe you shit either."

"Damn it-"

The first wound was sealed quickly, gauze and a bandage rolled around it to protect it. He settled after a bit of it, seeming to get used to the pain and Jet even appeared at the bathroom door in the middle of it, offering a bottle of brandy that she had passed over to him after taking a swig of it herself.

"I'm the fucking patient, damn it…"

"How's he looking?" Jet asked.

"Like a piece of shit," she replied and then adding innocently, "Oh, you mean the wound…"

Jet left after a moment of further chatter, with the last word that breakfast was ready if they wanted some. She hardly thought she would be able to stomach anything, looking at the blood and dirtied pads. She glanced at him once more, deciding he needed to eat something, if anything to take the edge off the alcohol. She doubted he had eaten anything yet and most likely that alcohol was going full force on his empty stomach. Shaking her head she brought herself back to the stitching at hand.

It's time to go…

She frowned as she thought it, as the words rolled around in her head. Was it time to go, really? No, not yet. She wasn't sure it would ever be time to go, to leave the Bebop. They took care of her here. Well, Jet took care of her here. Ed and Ein were there for decoration. And Spike…he was there to piss her off.

It's time to be on your own again. To stop caring for others. Remember what it was like when you lived off bounty to bounty, quite literally? Doing what you wanted, when you wanted to? Remember what it was like before you felt like you were taking care of a damned family? What it was like before…before you started caring for Jet and Ed? What it was like before you fell for the lunkhead? Remember-

She tore the thread as she finished, her face dark. She remembered. She remembered only too well. She had been stumbling around, lost. Just another face without a memory. And she had been miserable, living off nothing, flying around on the Redtail aimlessly. Her life had been crap and now, it had some kind of meaning, didn't it? She did things for a reason, was part of a team. A family. They were her family whether she wanted it or not. She hadn't wanted to believe it after they had all started drifting away, first Ed with Ein and then Spike himself, on his little quest for vengeance and glory. And yet slowly but surely they had all found their way back, reuniting. That meant something, didn't it?

Dare she say it was Fate?

She applied the gauze and then wound a bandage around his entire shoulder, shifting him a bit. He seemed very unconscious but his fingers gripped the bottle of alcohol firmly enough. Finishing up she put aside the needle and the thread into the First Aid kit and closed it, setting it back under the sink. The towel went into the wastebasket as did the used wrappers and pads and she finally turned away, tapping the console.

"Are we done?"

She paused as the door slid open, turning her head but not meeting his eyes. "You are," she murmured. "I haven't even started yet." And she walked out, allowing the door to slide shut behind herself.

"So, how was your morning?" Jet asked the intruders cheerfully, standing before them and holding a mug of steaming coffee. He glanced up as Spike floated into the room, pulling on a light blue-green shirt while juggling his own cup of coffee, his eyes weary. Beside the couch Ed happily tapped away on Tomato, her goggles lowered over her eyes.

"We ain't saying shit," one of them said instantly, his face sullen.

"That just makes it more fun for us," Spike said lazily, tossing himself onto the couch and then rethinking it as pain stung.

Faye sauntered in as well, picking at a plate of bell peppers. She looked at the group of four as they looked at her and she paused, glancing at herself and then lifting a hand to her face. "What? Do I have something on my face?" she asked.

Spike motioned to the corner of his mouth and she swiped at her mouth, wincing when she jabbed at the bruise coloring the skin. With a sardonic smile to show how much she had not appreciated that she plopped down onto the seat, back to her peppers as Spike chuckled.

"So," Jet went on, bringing his attention back to the four. "Can I get you breakfast? Coffee? Bell peppers? A good ass-whoopin'?" he asked with a smile.

The four merely stared at him wordlessly,

"No? Ok, then. Let's start with how you got on my damned ship," he said and his voice lowered into a growl. He picked up a communicator he had obviously taken off one of them and he flung it the one who had opened his mouth earlier. "Who do you answer to?" he demanded as the communicator struck the man in the face.

"Oooh, Ed, get the camera!" Faye said instantly, sitting up in the seat. "You did get the camera like I asked you to, right?"

Ed nodded cheerfully, a wide evil grin spreading across her face. Without another word but with a zooming sound she threw her hands out at her sides and took off, Ein barking and racing off behind her.

"I hate cameras," Spike said in a mischievous undertone, smiling and then closing his eyes and lifting his arms carefully to cushion his head.

"I asked you a question," Jet snarled, taking hold of one of them by the collar and yanking him up as far as the handcuffs allowed.

"We don't answer to scum like you," the man replied coldly.

Faye picked at her bell peppers, already bored. Before her Spike lifted his legs and plopped them on the table with a loud clunk. The intruders glanced at him, all except for the one whose face Jet breathed into. "That right?" he asked the man. And he tossed him back against the railing before splashing him in the face with his steaming cup of coffee. The intruder screamed in pain, coffee trailing down his face and burning his skin.

Faye's eyes widened. And quickly both she and Spike instantly reached for Spike's own mug of coffee, Faye motioning impatiently as he took a quick gulpful of the coffee before handing it to her. She took a gulp herself and was already handing the remainder of it to Jet as he reached behind himself for it wordlessly, his glare aimed on another intruder.

"Damn it, where is Ed with that camera?"

"Want me to bring the coffeepot?" Spike asked helpfully, smiling slightly.

"Nah," Jet replied and he looked at his group. "I think we should split them up and interrogate them separately. And then we can switch. Sound like a plan?"

Spike rose faster than he should have, easing around the table. "Let me get my gun."

And a moment later Faye nodded quickly, setting aside the bell peppers. "Oh, me too, me too!" And they both floated off down the corridor for their respective rooms leaving the intruders to look after them in disbelief.

Jet turned back to the group of trespassers. "And you haven't even really met the hacker," he said to them. "She's the one who gave me this." And he motioned to his cybernetic arm.

"Ok, ok!" one of them suddenly shouted and Jet looked toward him quickly. "I'll tell you!"

"You will?" Jet asked in surprise, his eyes wide. And then straightening, "I mean, you will! Damn right, before I go get the kid!"

"What are you doing?" another hissed to the one who had volunteered to give information.

"I'm not about to get my ass killed on this ship! No way!" the guy shouted back. "I didn't sign on for this-"

His partner stared at him for a moment before settling, shaking his head. "Damn mercs," he growled and he turned his face away, glancing toward the intruder who had coffee running down his face.

Jet pulled up the chair before the man and plopped down. "Ok. Who do you work for?"

The intruder sighed weakly, his head hanging low. "His name's Black Jack."

Jet's eyes widened for a moment and he whipped his head to the side in the direction Faye and Spike had gone. They were both coming out of their rooms, Faye checking her clip for bullets, Spike with his hands in his pockets. "Uh…" he called down the hall to them.

At that moment Ed popped up as well, walking backwards on her hands. "Edward has the camera!" she cried, coming from the opposite hallway and sure enough, she held the camera with her feet expertly.

"Yo, Faye," Jet called to her.

"I'm coming! Keep your panties on!" she grumbled, pausing in mid-step and frowning. Spike paused as well, looking over her shoulder and pointing something out to her.

"You might want to hear this," Jet said to them and they finally entered the main room, Faye practically hopping.

"Ok, which one do I get?" she demanded.

"Who do you work for?" Jet stressed, asking the man once more.

"He calls himself Black Jack. I don't know the guy, I swear-"

Faye paused in disbelief, her jaw dropping open and at that moment Ed took her picture, the flash nearly blinding her. "Ooooh, pretty, Faye-Faye!" she squealed and she pointed the camera at Ein next.

"Who do you work for?" Faye echoed faintly.

The man looked from Jet to her and even to Ed. "Come on, I'm not making this up!" he cried frantically. "I'll tell you whatever you want, it's all the truth! Just don't feed me to the kid!"

Ed looked up with wide amber eyes. "Huh?"

"Black Jack?" Faye demanded, taking hold of him by the collar, her gun ready.

"Did we forget to mention that?" Spike asked Jet, taking the gun from Faye seeing as how she seemed ready to use it, even accidentally. "Black Jack broke out of the pen. Right before all this went down-"

"No, they broke him out!" the man corrected and he grimaced as Faye began to choke him, shaking his body as if he were a rag doll. He choked for a moment, wheezing. "Get her off me!"

Jet quickly took hold of her and yanked her off, shooing her backward. "He can't tell us anything if he's dead," he growled at her.

"Yeah," Faye snarled, her hands clenched. "But he doesn't need all ten toes…"

"She's got a point," Spike whistled.

"No, come on! Come on!" the man cried. "I swear it's the truth! The guy's name is Black Jack and he didn't break out. They broke him out. He has this huge ass fucking empire! The guy's rich! He owns tons of the casinos on Mars! And he has people working for him everywhere! I don't know what you did to piss the guy off but he's looking for her!" And he recoiled as Faye growled once more.

Spike glanced at her. "What did you do to piss him off?" he asked her.

"I didn't do anything!" she shouted furiously. "All I did was ask Ed to get me a bounty," and she looked at Ed.

Ed took a picture of the man with the coffee streaming down his face, causing him to flinch. "Edward got Faye-Faye a bounty!" she piped up.

Faye motioned as if to say, 'See?'

"He's wanted her for awhile," the guy said and he looked at her as she whirled back around. "I don't know who you are, lady, but he's been looking for you."

"Why?" she asked him.

He shook his head silently, seeming genuinely apologetic for not knowing.

Jet looked at both her and Spike. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded of them both. "What do you guys know?"

Faye plopped herself down on the couch as Spike handed her back her gun. "Down, boy, down," he said as she snatched it from him, glaring at the other side of the room where the intruders all watched her. He turned to Jet as the bigger man motioned Ed away from the intruders. "It was on the news before these guys showed up. Black Jack broke out of prison. No leads or anything," he shrugged.

"He didn't break out," the guy repeated and he leaned forward as they all turned to look at him. "He has these people working for him, everyone from people like me, hired guns, to top-secret agents. All cold blood. And he has this hacker, a fucking genius! The guy can get him in and out of all kinds of security, all kinds of problems! The hacker got him out of fucking jail!"

"But who is he?" Faye asked him impatiently.

He shook his head at her once more. "I don't know. Black Jack ain't even his real name. I don't know his real name and I don't want to find out. I just wanna get my ass outta here. You have to give me a head start, come on-"

"But you haven't told us anything!" Faye cried.

"Because I don't know!" he shouted back. "Look, lady, I don't care about who you are. You look like a hooker from where I used to live and if you wanna live like that be my fucking guest, but there ain't now way I'm sticking around for him to find me! I'm getting my ass outta here the second you let me go and you better think about doing the same thing!"

Spike blinked, turning to Jet. "Are we in real danger here?" he asked as if he didn't understand.

The man blanched in disbelief.

"We should definitely get off Mars," Faye answered, and she rubbed her eyes wearily, clutching her Glock absentmindedly. "For a little while, let's just stay away from here-"

"You better run far," the guy muttered. "The safest you'd be would be in a fucking jail cell under a different name. And he might find you even there-"

"Definitely off Mars," Spike mused. "I'm supposedly dead here anyway. Can't be popping up alive." He motioned to the intruders. "What do you wanna do with them?"

Jet smiled at them, already leaving out the snitch. "Think there's a bounty on any of them?"