Location Unknown

December 3rd, 2072

It was a measure of his trust in his comrades that permitted Jet to authorize the use of a blindfold on him. Not just his trust in them leading him somewhere he'd be okay with, but trust in them leading him SAFELY to somewhere he'd be okay with. Hell, it was an arduous exercise in giving over control - to these hooligans of all people - but he was trying hard these days to be less bullheaded and letting others take the lead, quite literally in this instance.

Ed's small hand in his, Spike's hand reassuringly resting on his shoulder, and Faye's running commentary of "big step here! Okay, corner in 3, 2, …" were all helping to keep him confident in his crew.

They weren't trying to trip him up for laughs - that was something only Ein did and never intentionally except sometimes maybe to Spike or Faye.

They weren't taking him to the doctor or dentist or anywhere unpleasant.

According to Ed there were "super secret special surprises in store!"

There was something warm burning brightly in his chest. A feeling he hadn't truly felt since Alisa used to spoil him with little gifts here and there - like the damn pocket watch, the only thing she'd left him with when she'd taken everything else - and the most important thing of all: herself. With effort, he cleared thoughts of her from his mind. The woman who let him go had no business distracting him from the efforts of his crewmates to make his birthday a good day.

Last year, like every year in recent history, Jet had celebrated quietly and by himself. He'd left the ship in the early hours before anyone else was awake - it had been before Faye wandered off, before Ed and Ein had undertaken their own adventure - and he had spent the day just cruising around in his Hammerhead, letting the sounds of Charlie Parker fill his ears and mind. It had been a peaceful day. On his return to the ship - hearing the standard bickering between Spike and Faye, interspersed with Ed's absurdities - he'd even treated himself to a nip from the emergency reserve bottle of whiskey that he kept hidden in the bonsai room before giving himself permission to go to bed early.

Last year, as far as he knew, his birthdate had been a secret from the rest of the crew, much like all of theirs had been to him. Birthdays were a silly thing in the first place. Celebrating the day you were born? It made more sense to use that day to give thanks to one's parents. It was nothing more than a random date that just so happened to be the one where you entered the world. Through no effort of your own, at that. And it was like a countdown to your own demise in some ways. You are on your way out as soon as you manage to make it in. Old age was a luxury not everyone got to experience, but neither was it for the faint of heart. Some days, getting older made him rather depressed, though he'd never admit that out loud. Other days, he treasured the fact that he was getting wiser as the years progressed.

Now that Ed knew all of their birthdays, there was no way she'd let one slip by without commemorating it as heartily as possible. And… sure, he didn't like to acknowledge growing older very much, but he did appreciate what they were trying to do here. Besides, indulging Ed was never a hardship and anyway Faye had already endured a ridiculous birthday celebration... the memories of which still gave him a chuckle… so, why not let them make his day something to remember?

"All right," Faye's voice reached his ears again over the sounds of nearby traffic and… music? Trumpets, sax, piano, bass, drums… a whole band!

Jet felt Spike move to stand more behind him while Ed shifted to be fully in front, putting both of her hands in his now but definitely standing facing forwards the same as him.

"Half step up and you'll be through the door and we can take off the blindfold," Faye said. He could practically hear the smirk in her voice.

Spike's hand moved off his shoulder and undid the knot holding the scrap of fabric in place, revealing to Jet that they had entered a dimly lit and incredibly smoky tavern. A very familiar place, actually…

"You… brought me to Bottom of the Well?" Jet was dumbfounded. He remembered mentioning the nightclub - a poor name since it was open all hours - when they'd been up late on a camping trip many long weeks ago. But he'd never told anyone where exactly it was.

Ed was beaming at him. "The owner is being nice to let Ed in during the day," She told him proudly. "Edward wanted to experience the music too!"

Spike slipped around him to make his way to the bar, but nodded towards the booths and tables. "Find a seat somewhere, I'll grab drinks."

Faye was indeed looking smug when Jet glanced at her as she led the way to the tables only for Ed to release Jet's hands and dash for a booth instead. "Spike's idea, this. We hit up your buddy...uhh… Fatty MaGoo or whatever,"

"Fatty River!" Jet interrupted, correcting Faye but also in greeting because he had just then noticed his old buddy leaning against the wall and bobbing his head to the music. It was currently a rendition of 'Funky Blues' and the band recreating it was doing it justice.

Which was no surprise, the two house bands here at the Well were renowned for their dedication to the original blues, jazz, and bebop tunes they laid down, though they were equally well known for their own impressive creations.

He made his way to Fatty, greeting his buddy just the same way he had the last time they'd met, before that odd case with the old-soul child Wen. It was always good to see fellow bounty hunters still kicking around considering how dangerous their jobs tended to be. And Fatty was a friend from well before Jet's bounty hunting days. He'd actually been a resource and an ally for a few cases when Jet was still with the ISSP. It wasn't stretching the truth much to say that Fatty had been pivotal to Jet choosing to become a bounty hunter when he finally threw in the towel on being a good cop in a bad system.

They bullshitted for a while, reminiscing about days gone by and people no longer among the living. Spike stopped by long enough to deliver a tumbler of booze before he'd gone to settle into the booth with Faye and an energetic Edward. Keeping an eye on his crew while talking with Fatty, Jet was privately surprised at how long it took before Edward managed to convince Spike and Faye to take her to the dance floor. They were swinging around to Jam Blues - first Edward with one hand held by Spike and the other by Faye, but in no time she'd abandoned them to dance together so she could slide on her knees right up to the saxophonist to play air sax in front of - and, arguably along with - the gal who was tearing it up on the sax. When she noticed Ed in front of her, she moved closer to the edge of the stage and gave the hacker a wink.

After being treated to breakfast made for him - granted, it was just a bowl of oatmeal because Faye knew how he liked it and no one else was good for shit in the kitchen - he hadn't been sure what to expect from his teammates. But this… they'd done good with this. The only one missing was Ein but while the owner had been talked into allowing Ed while the day was young, it seemed like having a dog in the building would have been taking it a step too far. Granted, most dogs weren't as well behaved as Ein, but Jet somehow doubted the data dog minded having the ship to himself and some peace and quiet for a few hours.

"Rowena's running a little pawn shop these days - selling ammunition out the back, of course, spitfire that she is. I tell ya, Jet, if you hadn't been dallying around with that Alisa chick, Ro would've given you the time of day and then some. And I'm not saying nothing but she's unattached at the moment." Fatty was telling him now.

Jet felt a blush and hated how he could never quite conceal his own embarrassment. "Oh, gee, Ro? How the devil did she manage to stay out of jail for that explosives incident in Marvis?"

Fatty gave a booming laugh. "Blew her way free, of course! That's why she's here now on Mars - but don't go looking her up to turn her in if that's what you're thinking! I could've done the same the day I found her but… some women you just gotta let live." He gave a wink.

"Ehehehe, no, I'll leave her in peace, such as it may be." Jet replied. He shook his head. "That gal, she's a wild one for sure - I'll let you try and ride that storm."

A strange yet familiar sound began to fill the air. Jet turned from Fatty to the stage and his jaw dropped when he realized someone had given Ed a microphone and the band was going through 'Flying Home' - and Ed was somehow getting all the vocals that Ella Fitzgerald had infused into the bop all those years ago when she and Bird performed at Carnegie Hall on Earth.

"Well hot damn! You sure do keep a cool crew these days, Black Dog," Fatty said with a grin, slapping his hands on his thighs. "Teach 'em young though, that's how you get 'em hooked!"

Jet was still agape. Faye and Spike, making moves on the dance floor, seemed similarly impressed but not quite as surprised. "I had no idea she'd been listening when I was playing records. The kid's got her head in the clouds so much of the time…"

"I'm glad they reached out to me, Jet. It's good to catch up." Fatty told him plainly. "Too many of the good ones are gone and the way I know you like to live… well, I'll take advantage of another chance to see you doing well anytime I get it."

Jet clapped his old friend on the shoulder. "You too, Fatty. Keep sticking with the small fries so we can have more of these meetings, eh! I should rejoin 'em, they went to all the hassle of getting me out here after all."

With a clink of their glasses and a wordless toast to each other, they downed their respective drinks and Jet made his way over to his crew. His oddball, full of surprises, family.

xxx

Sometimes Jet wondered about the power of memories. It was strange to him that he could recall advice he'd been given so well, yet faces grew fuzzy with every recollection. If it wasn't for his photo albums, he might not remember his own mother and grandmother's faces, but it had been thirty years since seeing either alive and so much had gone on between now and then. He'd stretched the truth a bit on the camping trip, not wanting Faye or Ed to feel too badly about their own lack of memories of their mothers. It was the impressions that stayed the best, but it was hard to forget the basic details like hair color and eye color and mouth shape, though sometimes he had to check the albums just to make sure he'd remembered correctly.

He'd named his ship in honor of his mother. She'd been the one to not just bring Jet to the clubs but to drag his father there as well. Not that his father didn't enjoy blues and jazz, but he hadn't been as enthralled as Jet's mother and Jet himself. From his grandmother, he'd known about ships being considered female and being given women's names. Now, he didn't think of the Bebop as a girl so much as the most stalwart member of the crew, no gender necessary, so he hadn't wanted to give the ship a female name… but choosing a style of music in memory of his mother and how much she had loved dancing with him in the kitchen… that was the easiest thing he'd done since giving up the badge.

No one knew the significance, aside from understanding how much he loved bebop music. But sometimes he thought about sharing that tidbit with the others. The idea was growing on him more and more, especially in the wake of Ed's performance at the club earlier. And, unlike some of the darker things in his past, this was something that might bring smiles if he shared it.

Ed would be thrilled to know. Hell, he might even find out something from her in return - such as why she'd name a computer something like Tomato. It was no better or worse a name than Spike's, though Jet doubted the other man had been designated Spike at birth. And… well he couldn't say much himself. In fact, no one could talk shit about the way anyone or anything else was named.

Jet blinked. He was starting to mentally argue with himself, and stand up against imagined slights against names. He was officially too high. He couldn't even blame it on the ganja this time - no, he was holding it against the cigars Faye had brought out after Ed fell asleep during dinner. Face down in her bowl of noodles, which had thankfully been empty so she hadn't been at risk of drowning. They'd relocated her to the hammock above the bed in his room before settling down in the living room again themselves and filling the air with smoky haze.

Cannabis was one thing Jet was learning to handle, and cigarettes had been a vice of his since his teens, but cigars were somehow a whole other bag of tricks. He'd enjoyed them from time to time but they always packed a wallop he was never quite expecting or prepared to handle.

"All good there, old man?" Faye asked brightly. She was moving her feet briskly and throwing in occasional waggles of her knees and shaking of her hips to the tune that was playing over the speakers in the living room. Wahoo (Perido) and it was one of Jet's favorites. But he could say that about anything Bird put his lips to. Watching Faye was a hoot. She had Spike's jacket on over a tank top, a pair of dark booty shorts, Jet's own fedora, and a cigar clenched casually in her lips. She'd claimed the hat since returning to the ship and the jacket she'd weaseled off Spike's shoulders and onto her own when she made noises about being cold on their walk back to the ship earlier. Her entire ensemble now, and the music she was swinging to, gave her the air of a gangster but a comical one, not a threat.

"Aren't you just the pot calling the kettle black," Jet retorted.

Spike, sprawled next to him on the couch and having long since left his own cigar burning away in the ashtray, gave a chuckle.

"What's so funny?" Jet demanded.

Spike shrugged. "Couldn't even say. Pot, black, old… I dunno, thought there was a joke in there somewhere since we're high and your name and you're both old…" He rambled off into silence as he shook his head. "I've gotta hit the hay, I'm not making a lick of sense."

Faye laughed at him. "You're technically the youngest still up and you're bailing first? Pshhh,"

The other cowboy made no move to get up. "Are you challenging me?"

Sensing trouble, Jet decided to intercede. "Hey. It's still my birthday. I'm calling the shots."

Faye stopped dancing and grinned at him around the stogie. "You calling for shots?"

"Aw shit,"

xxx

It was much later, long past nightfall on Mars where they were docked, and they'd moved the party to the deck because it had gotten too smoky inside. They'd all gotten paranoid about Ed waking up and getting a contact buzz from any or all of it. So they'd turned on some of the outside speakers and gone to sit under the stars and moons.

Ein had accompanied them outside and was currently huddled at the edge of the deck next to Jet's right thigh as Jet had both his feet dangling over the edge, kicking absently like a child.

Behind him, Spike and Faye weren't slow dancing so much as swaying together as Ella Fitzgerald crooned about a stairway to the stars. Faye was still in Spike's jacket but she'd also appropriated a pair of his sweatpants to wear outside. While it wasn't winter - and truthfully they'd had their yearly fill of ice and snow while on Callisto - it was still quite chilly. Spike, in his usual button up and pants, didn't seem as sensitive to the cool temperature but he'd also drank as much as Jet and Jet knew he himself was feeling quite toasty from the booze.

That had been Faye's gift to him - an expensive bottle of whiskey and some spliffs, along with a new pair of shears after she'd apparently lost his last pair. Jet suspected she'd tried to give Ed a haircut and Ed herself had hidden away the shears just to save herself from Faye's attempt. Still, it had been a few days and his trees had been jonesing for a trim, so he was excited to get back to his normal routine. Tomorrow though, not tonight.

Tonight he was just enjoying the company of friends under a blanket of stars. Ein was on his good arm side, so Jet was able to feel the softness of his fur as he idly stroked the data dog. Ein's fur was thick enough where the temperature wasn't too bad for the dog to endure, but he still seemed more interested in staying next to Jet's warmth and the comfort of Jet's touch than in traipsing around underfoot by Spike and Faye.

They made a goofy looking pair but that was mostly due to Faye's current clothes, and they negated the amusement of the image by clearly not caring what anyone thought. There was definitely something to that type of self confidence. That was one thing they again all had in company. A self assurance that couldn't be faked or forced. The only way to really embody it was to genuinely not give a shit about the opinions of others.

"All right, Black Dog, we're tapping out," Spike called to him. "You're putting us younger folk to shame, but we're exhausted."

Jet twisted to look back at them. "Well, you were cutting a rug all day, suppose that's as good an excuse as any." He grinned. "This was as fine a birthday as I can recall."

Faye, leaning tiredly against Spike, smiled. "Glad to hear it. I know Ed was real excited. She wanted to make you breakfast today herself, you know, you're lucky I intervened."

He chuckled. "One of these days I'd better just take her under my wing in there. You two will sure never shine in the kitchen."

Spike grinned. "You trying to challenge me to prove you wrong? I know how you both like to work that angle," He cast an amused look down at Faye. "Not gonna happen anytime soon. Too many cooks in the kitchen is a bad thing from all I've heard." He had an arm wrapped around Faye's shoulder but used his free hand to give Jet a wave before leading the sleepy gambler into the ship.

With a content sigh, Jet looked out across the dark waters. "Just you and me now, boy," He murmured to Ein, who gave a pleased whine and turned his head to lick at Jet's hand which was resting by his scruff. "Yeah yeah yeah, your presence is your present to me." He continued kneading the thick fur at Ein's neck. "I know I never really said this before but… I'm pretty glad Spike's such a soft heart. Dunno where we'd be without you around." He looked back up at the sky, sparkling with stars, and the twin moons of Mars shining like stars themselves despite their proximity to the red planet. "Out of all the families in the universe, you chose us. Even when it was just me and Spike. You might have been the first, aside from myself, to choose to be his friend in his post-syndicate life. Sometimes that kid thinks he's got nothing to offer nobody, and that he doesn't deserve nice things like even just the devotion of a dog. That's changing, I think, but… you and I, we started that fire in him."

Ein wagged his tail end, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

Jet chuckled again. "That's the power of unconditional love, boy. It can be a candle in the dark, guiding a soul back from the edge." He let the sounds of the music fill his ears, accompanied by the gentle lapping of waves against the hull of the vessel. It was currently a tune called Passport. Like all the rest of Parker's jams, this too was Jet's favorite. The only shame about Bird's music tended to be the short length of the licks, unless you lucked out and found a live recording from one of the big shows. But even a short tune had substantial power, and the heart and soul infused in all of Parker's songs resonated so strongly.

He dug around in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes and took out one of the spliffs Faye had rolled up for him, lighting it and inhaling with relish. The day had been a peaceful one, full of music and laughter and good food and good people. And being able to wind down now, sitting in quiet contemplation with Ein - who might be Jet's favorite just because he actually listened - was the perfect way to bring it to a close.

Tomorrow would be back to business as usual, so it was good to savor today before it ended.

xxx

Play it again, Space Cowboy - for old times' sake...