Disclaimer: Not mine, no money, yada yada yada…
Author's Note: Yes, I do realize that Gren was portrayed as a gay man, however, what would fan fiction be without some slight tweaking, eh?
Session Nine: I Grieve
Mira pulled the coat onto her shoulders and straightened it. She slipped the gold braided piping through the eyehole and tied it, keeping the coat closed. She straightened the silk black tie and brushed off the suit jacket, swiping at wrinkles in the pants. It had been a long time since she had donned the Red Dragon uniform. She felt as if she was stepping into a dead man's clothes. The Mira that had been in the Syndicate died when she left. She and Spike had undergone similar changes. Both had gone from ruthless, explosively violent syndicate members to almost normal. Both were still haunted by the memories from a another life though. Mira closed her eyes. She was thinking of him again. And it aggravated her.
"Mira?"
A gentle hand was laid on her shoulder. She turned to see Gren standing behind her, concern etched into his noble features. A smile spread across her face. She had made the right decision. How could she possible leave a man like this?
"My, don't you look dashing."
His easy smile slide into it's place. "Why thank you. You're looking very stunning as well."
She had gotten a hold of another suit and coat for Gren, Jet and Faye. Amazingly enough Spike still had his, though he had never worn it in the Syndicate. The coal black color of the suit, in combination to the three-quarter length coat seemed to add elegance to Gren's height and slight build. Mira reached up and brushed some stray bangs back from his face.
"Vicious is going to be there."
Gren grew serious. "I know. How are you planning to go about this?"
"Talk. I will not fight him."
"What if it comes to that? What if he wants to fight?"
"I'll step down. We'll leave. I refuse to fight."
"Why?"
"I've lived my life in violence. I was at Titan when I was seventeen. After the war, I went into the Syndicate and stayed there till I was twenty-four. I've lived these past few years in quiet normality. I don't want to go back to the violence."
Gren looked down into her eyes and placed his hands on her shoulders. "I understand that. I hate fighting as much as you do. But sometimes it's necessary. And I'll tell you now, that if Vicious threatens you or any of us, I will retaliate."
Mira leaned against him, hugging him around the waist and laying her head on his shoulder. "I hope it doesn't come to that."
Gren held her tightly. "But if it does, I won't let him hurt you. But if we deal with him now, we can live out the rest of our lives without looking over our shoulders."
She pressed her face against the rough material of the coat. "I will not fight."
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Mira stood at the bottom of the wide stairs that lead up to the porch of the Mars mansion. Mao Yenrai's mansion. Vicious had said that it was time for the rogue dragons, Spike and her, to come home. The three of them had spent many years gathered in Mao's home where the former Syndicate master had taught them all the tricks. Memories that Mira had tucked away years ago seemed to rise up now and shake the dust off their backs. Taking a deep breath, she straightened her jacket, feeling the material brush against the gun she carried under the layers of clothing. Gren had insisted she carry it, even if she didn't intend to us it.
She glanced to her right. Gren flanked that side, his normal kind face set into hard lines. He had stepped back into his role of a warrior once more. On her left side, Jet stood, looking massive as ever in the Syndicate uniform. Behind them were Spike and Faye. These were her bodyguards and her group of Red Dragons. Despite their clean past history, Jet, Faye and Gren had eagerly jumped at the opportunity to act as her group of Red Dragons. And she couldn't have asked for a better group.
"Here we go." she whispered before taking the first step up the stairs. She heard the other's footsteps behind her and that gave her some confidence. Striding up to the double oak doors of the Mars mansion, she pushed the doors open and allowed the sunlight to filter through the darkness.
Vicious stood before them in the foyer, calmly leaning on his sheathed katana. He too was flanked by his bodyguards. Mira counted five in the open, possibly more hidden in the shadows. She squared her shoulders and stepped towards him, stopping a few cautious feet from him.
"Vicious."
"Miranda. I see Spike has healed."
Mira heard Spike shift slightly behind her. "As you have as well. Why have you called us here?"
"I'm sure you can see that the Red Dragon Syndicate is far from being dead. I called you here because the rights of leadership belong you and me."
"If I accept?"
"You live."
"What about my men?"
Vicious merely replied with a icy smile.
"And if I refuse?"
"You die with your…" he cast an indifferent look over her group, "men."
"I see we need to straighten out a few facts."
Vicious cocked a suspicious white eyebrow. "Like what?"
"The leadership of the Red Dragons never was to belong to you. Mao had set up two other people. You were not one of them."
"Who were they then?"
"That doesn't matter. What matters is you aren't one of them. I strongly suggest that you relinquish your power now, and give it to the rightful heirs."
Vicious' frown deepened and anger smoldered in his chilling blue eyes. "I do not appreciate your suggestion."
Mira met his cold gaze with one of her own. "I am not interested in your appreciation. I'm interested in your power."
His cocky smile appeared again. "Isn't everyone? I refuse to relinquish my leadership. You'll have to pry it out of my dead hands."
Vicious unsheathed his katana and lunged at Mira. Faye and Spike headed for opposite sides of the room to take cover. Jet did the same, following Faye behind a marble pillar. Gren pulled Mira out of the way and took cover behind another pillar. Gun shots went off around them, bullets bounced off the pillars. Gren could hear the crew of the Bebop fighting back. He leaned down over Mira.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine. He didn't touch me."
"I told you it would come to this. This is the only way Vicious knows."
"Let's get out of here and rethink this. I don't want to fight."
"Mira, you are in the middle of a fire fight. You need to."
"I vowed that I would never fight again. I intend to keep that vow."
"I respect that vow. But you need to take up arms and fight. You can end this needless bloodshed and disband the Syndicate like you planned."
Mira looked out at behind the pillar to see that there was only one of Vicious' bodyguards left. Vicious had disappeared. "You're right Gren. I can end this."
She stood up and took a small step from behind the pillar.
"Vicious, stop this!"
Immediately, the shots stopped. Mira stepped back out into the open, trying not to look at the dead bodies. Vicious emerged from the shadows, his sword once more in it's case. The lone bodyguard stood off to Vicious' left. Mira felt Gren come to her side and she sensed the others behind her.
"What?" Vicious sneered. "Have you changed your mind?"
"Yes, I have, but the choice is not one that you gave me." Mira reached behind her and whipped out the gun, aiming at Vicious. Before she get the shot off, another shot rang through the air. She felt someone push her back and she fell to the floor, the gun skidding across the floor. She looked up to see Vicious and the bodyguard had disappeared. And laying on the floor where she had been was Gren.
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She laid her hand on the smooth wood, ignoring the reflection in the polished shine. The cold rain pelted her, soaking her clothes. She didn't notice. The pain she felt now was enough to block out everything else. The only thing she was aware of was the ache and emptiness that seemed to permanently settle in her chest. She felt hollow, as if she had no substance. She was aware that there were people around, but she paid them no mind. They were unimportant. The only one that was important was the person in the box. A person that could no longer be important, except in her memory. He had loved her. Selflessly, totally and, in the end, sacrificially. She never believed she deserved someone like him. And gazing down at the smooth, dark wooden coffin, she had been right.
She gripped both sides of the coffin and fell to her knees, pressing her face against the cold, wet lid. She had gone for the past ten years unable to cry. Now she was thankful that the rain camouflaged her tears that mixed with the rain droplets. If anyone deserved to be wept over, it had been Grencia Eckner, her Gren.
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Faye stood by Jet and Ed at the gravesite. It was hard to believe that he was gone. She had been fascinated with the handsome saxophone player when she had met him a few months ago. He had seemed to be a genuinely good person. It was always the good people that went first. She looked around the small gathering of people that came out. She found she couldn't bring herself to look at Mira. The loss of Gren had struck the woman so deeply she was unable to hid it. It was too heartbreaking for Faye to even watch. She leaned towards Jet.
"Where's Spike?"
"Don't know. He didn't want to come."
"Sounds like him. Thinking only of himself."
"Not now Faye. He's hurting just as much as Mira is right now."
"Is Mira coming back with us?"
"No, she isn't."
"Where is she going?"
"I don't know."
"Is Spike-"
"Spike is still staying with us. But right now, both Spike and Mira need time to grieve." Jet put his sunglasses on, despite the cloudy day. "Just as we need time to grieve."