Session 37

The sorrowful melody of the band shrouded the Cobalt Cat Bar. Every breath was filled with second hand smoke. Jet took a long draw off his black and tan, savoring the night away from the ship. In the first week since Spike'd come back home they'd resisted leaving even briefly, or at least he hadn't wanted to leave Spike unmonitored for fear the sedatives would fail. But dose after dose proved effective as clockwork dragging him down into a listless mire. Today left Jet and Faye with plenty of time for a well-needed breather. He glanced at his watch. They had six hours before Spike would even begin to stir. Ed knew to leave him alone—besides, he'd left Ein on guard duty.

At the table, Faye's eyes half closed as she ran her finger around the top of a shot glass, half of a tequila sunrise remaining.

Jet secretly cherished her company here. Silently he thanked her for suggesting they get away for a bit. The somber saxophone played by a long haired, sun glass wearing beatnik reached into his soul and temporarily eased the tension pulling his perpetual frown. At least he felt a little more neutral now.

"Mmm, now that man sure can blow." Faye's polished nail caught the low neon light as she ran her finger along the rim. "Have you ever heard anything that sentimental before?"

Taking a gulp of the brew he leaned back in his chair. "Only once, and it's been a while. Kid on a blue's harp."

"Wen." She muttered absently.

"Now there was a boy who understood the ravages of time. Shame how it ended. But at least Spike nailed that shot. Trust him to come through when it counts." His throat tightened at that thought. He took another gulp to loosen things up.

Faye downed the rest of her shot and glanced his way. "It's not over. That stubborn ass will be back. You know he will."

He closed his eyes and tried to believe her, but the lump in his gut sunk deeper. "Shit, it's been a while since we scored a bounty. Think about it, not since before we stumbled on Somnus."

"We still have the funds from saving Europa."

"Yeah … about those." He glanced at her before looking back into his layered beer. "Fact is our collective medical bills have taken a rather substantial chunk out of it. We're not in the hole yet … but … at this point we won't be leaving Mars anytime soon."

Somehow she didn't look surprised as she waved to the waitress for a refill. "Well, you know what that means. Time to get back in the saddle, cowboy."

"Don't know if I can."

"Of course you can. Let's see what's on the menu." She cocked a half grin. Pulling out her phone she flipped through a few images before pausing and glancing up with narrowed eyes. "What do we have here? A nice slab of beef." She picked up her refilled tequila sunrise and subtly pointed a single finger to a man sitting alone two tables over in a wrinkled trench coat, a scar running down his cheek. She held up her screen and showed the bounty notice.

Carl Sheg had a two-million woolong reward, and he was sitting there ripe for the picking.

She leaned in close to Jet. "Come on, Black Dog, you know you want something to sink your teeth into. How about we make a run for a fresh bounty?"

He heaved a sigh, taking another gulp of his drink and setting the pint glass down. "I dunno, not in here. It's too nice to cause a ruckus in here. I'm growing to like this place. Besides, I kind of want to just take it easy tonight."

"Mmm hmm." She gestured with her pinky, offering a knowing smile. "Why you making a fist, then?"

"Tch!" Swiftly he tucked his hands under the table, but it was too late. She'd spotted the evidence. Facts were facts. Because of Spike's condition they were stuck on Mars for the time being, money shortage or not. As they were going now they wouldn't have fuel money by that time. He shook his head.

Damn it. They needed the dough.

Once more he took in the file as Faye's nails tapped the screen. This guy was a brawler, wanted for multiple bar fights causing an impressive total of collateral damage. At the last one he had permanently injured the bartender, she'd needed a replacement leg. Sure, they couldn't kill Carl to get the bounty—but that didn't mean they couldn't tenderize him.

Jet's lip curled, itching for the fight. But not here. Not in the club. He downed the rest of his drink and slammed the pint glass down. "Fine, you want to reel this small fry in? Let's do it. Meet you outside."

Faye pulled out some lipstick and refreshed it. "Now we're talking. Feeling kind of good to get back in the groove."

They both dropped their payment on the table and as Faye drifted off to Carl's table, Jet wandered outside with a fresh cigarette in his hand. Out in the cool night air he leaned against the side of the building and puffed away, staring up at the stars as he waited. This part was all Faye. He knew she loved this role, savoring every second. She would take her own sweet time.

He stubbed the butt of the cigarette on the heel of his shoe before the door opened to Faye's carefree laughter. "Oh, I just can't believe how lucky I am to have found you here tonight."

Carl glanced down at her hand on the center of his chest as they walked out into the night. "Angel, I'm gonna show you the night of your life."

Leaning in closer, she smiled. "You sure will, you big lug you."

Captivated, Carl's vision remained locked on her so firmly he didn't catch Jet's metal fist until it hooked his jaw.

Nimbly, Faye stepped out of the way as Carl executed a sloppy pirouette before flopping to the ground.

Jet stood over the bounty head as Carl collected his wits and glanced up in shock.

"Whoa, hey … this angel belong to you buddy? I didn't know!"

She smirked. "Oh we're partners, Carl."

Jet cracked his knuckles. "But not that kind of partner. You got quite a price on your head."

Faye studied her nails. "And baby needs fuel money."

His complexion flushed and he scrambled to get his feet under him. Faye's heel stabbing on his hand stopped that effort. As he wailed out in pain, Jet drew back his fist. "Go on, resist."

"Ahhh! Oooooofffff!" Out like a light under the double fist he lay limp on the concrete.

"Well now, looks like we still have it." She grinned as Jet hefted the body up onto his shoulder. "Hmmm, men are such gullible fools. All of them believe they are the universe's gift to all women at the flash of an eye. I could get to like this ambush."

"Maybe next time I'll lure the target out and you can nail him to the floor."

She laughed and eyed him up and down. "Well, to the right woman you could be quite the catch."

Jet shifted the body to hide the heat rising to his cheeks. "Let's go collect the bounty, Angel. Sheesh!"

Everything laid out, Jet looked at the screen one more time to be certain he had read it right. No doubt about what the scan showed, and he had enough time if he hurried.

The clack of Faye's heels down the hall punctuated the time ticking in a slow passage. So, she'd returned from her errand. "Jet? Hey Jet, where are you at?"

Around his cigarette he called out, "In here."

The clacks got closer as she came around the door, holding up her card. "Well, that mark was a cake walk. Didn't even break a sweat." In her other hand she sported her faux lipstick container. "My lovely little all-purpose lady's best friend sure comes in handy. Sucker." She must've used the potent dose of knockout gas it held in reserve.

Jet grunted as he picked the tool up off the floor, adjusting it. "Good."

"That guy had a decent bounty too." She paused, leaning forward. "Jet … is that a saw?"

"Mmm hmm."

The lipstick container rattled on the floor as her voice rose in alarm. "What are you doing with a power saw in Spike's room?"

Gripping Spike's cast in one hand and positioning the portable circular saw with his other he remarked dryly, "Time for this to go."

"You're not cutting his arm off!"

"Just the cast. The portable scan showed the bone is fully fused. The cast is now outstaying its welcome."

Her hand flailed in the air. "That's just a regular saw, not a medical one!"

"Relax, I'll be careful." The blade whined as it spun up.

"Jeez! Move over and let me hold his arm still."

"Spike'll be out for another hour. He won't even twitch."

She knelt down and grabbed onto the cast, glaring at Jet. "Not the point. You want to leave him healing from a massive saw blade gash? Wait, is that a metal rip saw?"

It was the first one he'd tripped across in his search. He half hooded his eyes. "Just hold his arm still. I got this. Besides, I thought you were feeling guilty about the drugs. This means we can back off on those."

With Faye holding the arm as it hung over the side of the bunk, the blade dug into the soft material kicking dust up everywhere. Spike didn't so much as take a breath out of sink. Faye gritted her teeth, sweat dripping down her forehead. Inch by inch the edge of the circular blade walked a line down the plaster cast guided by Jet's expert precision. One side, then the other.

He set the saw aside and cracked the cast open.

A foul odor filled the small enclosed room, instantly Faye covered her nose with both hands, Jet rammed his forearm against his smashing the nostrils closed. He'd been expecting it not to smell of roses. Over two solid months of being closed off to air, Spike's skin had want of a serious cleaning.

That was precisely why Jet had brought in a bowl of warm water, soap, and a towel.

"Oh my God!" Faye gasped. "That smells like an old gym sock that's been in a bag for like … gah … a decade!"

Over the worst of it, Jet wrung out the cloth and ran it down the thin limb. Held in one position for that long this limb had experienced the worst of the wasting. It was a mere twig, over an inch less circumference than his other arm, but the bone was healed now. That had been worth it. He could get the strength back over time. The skin was ultra pale, delicate, flaking. "Hey Faye, we're gonna need some moisturizer here." That was the one thing he hadn't thought of.

Still pinching her nose she shook her head. "I don't have anything powerful enough to combat that … but let me see what I do have."

Left to his task, Jet carefully worked the soap into a lather wondering if when Spike woke he would be able to move the stiff elbow at all. Even in his hands, he had to put an effort into straightening the joint, it wanted to stay as it had been, the tendons tight as hell. Probably would be the charlie horse of the century if Spike were awake. At least the odor was weaker now, the soap countering it as the air filter sucked it away. Jet repeated the washing a couple times before Faye returned with a bottle of thick cream.

"Here, this is the strongest moisturizer I have. Hope he doesn't mind smelling like daisies. Far better than he smells right now."

Drying the arm with the towel, Jet remarked, "He can't take a full shower til all the stitches dissolve. I've plucked a few of the remnants out, the loose ones. But there's a number to go yet."

Jet reached for the bottle, but Faye held fast to it, eyeing him. "No way. Move over. You can't just glop this on, it's expensive!"

"Fine." He gathered up the saw and the wash bowl and scooted out of the way.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Faye placed five evenly spaced tiny dollops on Spike's arm and began to massage it in. Her brow furrowed as she worked it in around his elbow, but she didn't remark. Instead her fingers pressed harder in small circles.

Jet realized she was legit massaging the tendons. Well, that would help.

Ten minutes in, she added more of the cream in a more generous quantity working up and down the limb as Spike lay there drugged all to hell.

Would he have enjoyed this? Or would he have smacked Faye?

Jet did a double take, in the brighter light he had turned up for the process of ensuring he didn't amputate the limb, there was a glint off Spike's cracked open eye. Inhaling slowly Jet glanced at the clock—that final hour had passed far swifter then he had anticipated. "Ummm Faye … " he tried to interrupt her.

"Hrmmm, there's quite a knot here." She worked her fingers near the elbow, chuckling a bit as Spike's limp hand flopped with the motions. "So limp, I mean it takes next to nothing to move it like a dead fish."

Spike's dilated eyes stared out at it as Faye remained oblivious she was being somewhat watched.

Covering his face Jet muttered, "You might want to be a bit careful."

"He can't feel anything."

"Actually … " Spike muttered with a drugged slurring, "I can."

Instantly she froze and grimaced. "Oh … shit … um …" forcing a smile, "hey Spike. Look, your cast is off."

His eyes shifted clumsily, overshooting the limb in her hands before settling back on it. "Yeah … kinda got that." Every phrase took forever to get out and the word breaks were wrong. It took a moment to sort out what he was getting at. "What're you doing?"

Faye quickly hid the daisy decorated bottle and offered him a nervous smile. "Checking to see if it's healed."

Covering his eyes Jet groaned before peering between his fingers.

Spike blinked slowly. "Ummmm kay." That did not sound convinced. He tried to straighten the limb and hissed, his other hand gripping the now exposed elbow.

Moving in closer, Jet waved a finger at him. "That's going to be stiff for a bit. You're going to have be careful with it. Work it slowly."

Not even for a second did he back off. With the use of his stronger hand against the forearm Spike forced the elbow to straighten with a fair amount of wincing and hissing to the sound of tendons popping. He hardly looked pleased with the result as the moment he let go the stiff joint drifted back to bent. It looked like an un-oiled hinge. With a grunt he let the whole limb fall to the edge of the bunk.

In unison Jet and Faye locked eyes. That told the whole story. But still, it was the first marker to start backing off the meds now. And that action right there worried him.

A Spike capable of anything would try to do everything.

Still, Jet forced a smile. "I'll just go get his dinner." He plucked up the pill bottle and shook his head. Damn it, a blessing and a bane. Spike would start being less of a shiftless slug and more of a … nuisance. He wasn't sure he was ready for this.

See You Space Cowboy