Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for Mira. I'm getting no money from this, so please don't sue me, you won't get anything any way. This is just for pure fun...so enjoy!
Session Five: Ready to Run
Mira quietly opened the door to where Spike was sleeping. The Bebop crew had left a few hours ago and went down the street to a motel. Shortly after they left, Spike went back to bed and promptly fell asleep. It had amazed Mira that he lasted as long as he did. He should be ready to leave within a few days. She started to close the door, not exactly sure about her feelings. She wanted him to get better, of course. But she didn't want him to leave. Five years she had been plagued with thoughts, memories and dreams of him. And just like before, he would be in her life for a short time, before quickly leaving again. From her punctated conversations with Jet, he was like that with a lot of people.
She pulled an old album out from beneath of bunch of books and sat down on the couch.
The book contained pictures of friends from Venus, the Syndicate and Titan. It was the only thing she had that could link her to her past. As risky as it was to have something like that around, she could never bring herself to destroy the photographs.
She flipped to her favorite photo, one of her and the twilight eyed soldier, sitting in the trenches together. She had thought she had found true love in him. Then she met Spike Spiegal. But that Titan soldier would always hold the first piece of her heart.
She had gone to the southside trenches, the bend that he told her to go. And sure enough, there he was, waiting for her as promised. He was lounging against the dirt wall, smoking leisurely and staring up at the sky.
"Hello."
Immediately, he was up on his feet, that disarming grin on his face."I see you came. And on time too."
"Never late for an appointment. That could be dangerous for a doctor."
He motioned to the space next to him for her sit down. As she did so, she was amazed at how gracefully he moved. And judging from his movements, he wasn't aware of it. He reached into one of the uniform's shirt pockets and pulled out a cigarette, handing it to her. She took it and allowed him to light it. She leaned back against the dirt wall and blew out a puff of smoke.
"I hope my pacients don't catch me doing this."
"Doing what? Relaxing?"
"No. Smoking. It's not too good for your practice if you're caught smoking."
He turned his eyes to the sky. "I somehow doubt your pacients here will care."
She allowed herself a short laugh. "I guess you're right. Now, what's your name?"
"Grencia Eckener. Call me Gren for short. I only know your first name."
"Miranda Davenport. Call me Mira for short."
"Miranda, the heroine of the great Shakespearean play The Tempest."
"Not only is he a soldier, he's a literary scholar as well. Are you well versed in Shakespeare?"
"I don't know how well versed, but it's a hobby of mine. What do you do in your spare time?"
"I try to read people."
He turned to look at her. "Read people? What do you mean?"
"I study them. Try to interpurt their body language and come up with what they're like, what they do for jobs, so on."
"Have you studied me?"
She turned her head and gazed into his blue eyes. It wasn't a pompous question. He was curious. "Yes, I have."
A small smile that he couldn't quite contain spread across his face. "And?"
"You want the full assessment?"
He nodded his head, causing more black strands to fall over his forehead.
"Okay. You are a very peaceful person, meaning nothing can outwardly upset you. And that comes by being at peace with yourself. You know who you are, and like who you are. You're in good standing with your parents, however you have had occasional disputes with them over your hobby. You're not very athletic, but you don't necessarily like to sit around all day. I'd have to say, you're a muscian."
Gren blinked his eyes in surprise. "You're right on everything." His eyes narrowed as a rogueish grin overtook the small, pleased one. "So, what instrument do I play?"
"Something sassy, I'd say. Probably a trumpet."
Gren went to correct her, but stopped when she started speaking again.
"Actually, when I look at your eyes, I see a sadness that you hide very carefully. The music that you play will reflect that, so a more mornful instrument would be used. You play the saxaphone."
"How could you see the sadness in my eyes?"
Mira took a long draw on her cigarette and stood up. "I have the same look. It's from well kept secrets that aren't meant to be secrets. You can never lose that look."
She turned to leave, but Gren called out to her.
"Will you come back out here tomorrow? Around this time?"
"Will you be here?"
"Yes."
"Then I'll come."
If it was possible to feel safe in a war, she had whenever he was around. But after the war…well, that was an entirely different story. It shouldn't have surprised her however. She was a different person after the war, how could she not have expected him to be as well.
A small sound outside her window, alerted her. The elevator door down the hall chimed. The unexplainable feeling of danger wrapped it's cloak around her once more. She had expected them to come sooner than this. At least they had waited long enough for Spike to heal.
She grabbed a bag in the corner of the room and shoved the photo album into it. Reaching into one of her desk drawers, she pulled out an envolpe of money and threw that into the bag as well. Slinging the bag across her chest, she walked into Spike's room and grabbed his shirt.
"Spike, wake up. We've got company."
Even in the dark, she saw his brown eyes open and he came alert immediately. "Who is it?"
"Don't know. Might be the Dragons. Here." She tossed him the shirt, which he put on as she threw the rest of his clothes in the bag.
"I know you're not going to like this, but you're going to have use me as a human crutch."
"Figured as much." He grunted and swung an arm around her shoulders. "Do you have a gun?"
"Here's your Jericho."
"Do you have a gun?"
Mira threw him a lopsided grin. "Of course."
They headed for the fire escape and looked out. Three black sedans were parked along the road. Large men dressed in the taliored suits and three-quarter length coats of the Red Dragons covered most of the street. Spike shifted slightly on Mira's shoulder.
"They're not covering the fire escape."
Mira looked down. "Or else they're really hidden well."
"These guys are used to force, not making sure all exits are covered. Let's go before they figure that out."
Mira slid out the window and steadied Spike as he followed. He didn't need as much help as she thought he would. But he might soon. She hit the pavement without a noise and crouched down in the shadows. Spike followed, moving with more finesse than she would have expected.
He hunkered down next to her, compacting his six foot frame into a small ball. "You know the area, where to?"
"We can stick to back alleyways. I have a friend not far here." She flashed him a knowing smile. Spike caught it and knew immediately what she had planned. The smile faded when she caught Spike's sober look.
"Annie's dead too, Mira."
"I'm sorry Spike."
"She was your friend too."
"Then the best thing to do is run. How far can you get?"
"Probably about seven blocks."
"Well, hopefully by seven blocks, we can come up with a plan."
She moved out of her hiding spot and started down the alleyway. She could barely hear Spike behind her, but he was there. Just as they were about to cross into another alleyway, her apartment exploded. The light from the flames gave them away.
"There they are!"
Bullets bit into the sides of the walls were they were. She felt Spike's back hit her's.
"Cover that end of the alleyway, I'll get this one. We need to get into that other alleyway."
Mira didn't respond, but continued to take down the thugs. A black convertible skidded around the corner and roared into the middle of the firefight. Mira tried the see the driver, but couldn't make him out in the darkness.
"Get in!"
Mira turned to Spike. "It's now or never."
He glanced over his shoulder at the car. "Fine."
The drive rose up out of the car and fired back at the thugs that were aiming at Mira and Spike. The wounded bounty hunter and his caretaker jumped into the back of the car and the driver sped off. Mira did a quick check over of Spike and saw that he was still in decent health.
"Did you hurt yourself?" she asked him.
"No, still in one piece."
"You're not just telling me that?"
Spike gave her a crooked grin. "Would I lie to you?"
"Huh." Mira moved to get into the passenger seat when Spike grabbed a hold of her arm.
"You're hurt."
She looked down at her side and found it bleeding. "It's a just a graze. All blood and no injury. Don't worry about it."
She sunk into the passenger seat so she could thank her guardian angel, and find out who he was. She turned to get a look at him and found she couldn't even breathe. Dark strands of ebony hair whipped around in the wind. Blue eyes were focused on the road and that grin that was always on his face was still there. She swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat.
"Gren."