The Usual Disclaimer Notice: I don't own the rights to Cowboy Bebop… Never have, never will… it belongs to Bandai/Sunrise…and let me tell you, I'm still pretty pissed off about that. The title of the song Julia sings here is "Sweet Lullaby" by Deep Forest. I don't own that either…
Author's Note: Who would have thought that the little "What If" story that I wrote about Julia having a bit of a spine would have eventually have 10 chapters? Certainly not I. I'm so sorry that this chapter took so long…but, I'm never really satisfied with how these turn out, and this chapter needed a lot of nursing. UPDATED: May 15, 2002: I really wasn't happy with this chapter as first posted, and a scene that I was working on for the next chapter seemed to belong here, so I made some changes. Sorry for the inconvenience.
OTHER CHOICES (Part Ten)
Soft voices, coming from near his feet, woke him from the dreamless, anesthesia induced sleep; voices, and the thin hardness of what was obviously a hospital bed. "Nil," Lin said in a voice barely above a stage whisper. Roshi laughed quietly, and Ansari made a soft, strangled sound. "What, Ansari? I trust you to cover me," Lin said in his most charming voice. Ansari literally growled. Spike listened to the game without opening his eyes, without letting them know that he was awake, needing time to think, trying to find a clue to the identity of his betrayer. They were playing a particularly ruthless game of Spades, from the sound of it, Spike thought through a haze of pain and anesthesia; Lin was trying to go for the outright kill with that bet.
"Double Nil," Vicious bet mockingly, the sneer plain in his voice, and Roshi's laughter turn into a choked cough. Spike almost laughed aloud, smirked inwardly instead. Vicious could only bet Double Nil if he hadn't looked at his cards yet. Spike knew that he had made that bet to neutralize Lin's bet, and to make the game more of a challenge. Poor Roshi, as long as they had been together as a cohort, he should have known that it was always better to be Vicious' opponent rather than partner in games of chance. Ansari hated losing as much as anyone Spike knew, but Vicious always played to win, never just for fun, and he carried a katana.
"So, Roshi, what did you find out about our Dr. Bacchus?" Vicious asked. "Ooh, good cover Ansari," he said sarcastically. Ansari growled again.
"Well, it seems that the good doctor has been sued for malpractice all over the solar system. His license has been revoked on both Ganymede and Europa; apparently he was a drunk. He even has a police record. Evidently he and his assistant, one Nurse Manley, are con artists of some sort. According to his personal computer logs from this facility, he seems to be in the middle of an insurance scam centering on someone who was cryogenically frozen before the Gate Accident."
"Good work, Roshi. With information like that, we probably can avoid having to kill him," Ansari said offhandedly over the sound of cards being slapped down on the table.
"Blackmail, Ansari?" Vicious asked skeptically. "That's definitely not your style, and you know the rules better than that. Dead men don't talk, and it sounds like no one would really miss this one."
"Of course I know the rules, Vicious; and unlike you, I take them very seriously. However, murder isn't always the best answer - one would think that you would know that by now. We're trying to be inconspicuous, here, remember," she answered coolly. "We would have to get rid of his assistant too, and that complicates the operation. Two bodies might do more damage to us than any information this doctor could find about us to sell to the Tigers or ISSP. He doesn't know anything about us, and considering what we now know about him, I don't think he'll be eager to talk to anyone," she said evenly, the shrug obvious in her voice. "Wow, that was an extremely good cover, Roshi," she complimented facetiously, laughing.
Spike felt his eyebrows draw together. He had known that his friends were callous and without mercy, it was sort of part of their job description; hell, he followed the Red Dragon Code as cold-bloodedly as any of them, possibly more so, but he began to wonder if it been this jockeying for position that had led one of them to betray him.
"Speaking of police, did anyone else notice that guy with the thin eyebrows who asked us about that girl on the highway last night had a prison tattoo on the back of his neck?" Lin asked solemnly, probably completely missing Vicious' and Ansari's power struggle. "He seemed rather chummy with Dr. Bacchus, if you ask me."
"We told him where to find the girl Lin, and that's the end of it," Ansari said, her slight Anglo-Hindi accent strengthening with her irritation. "I think it's sweet that you have such a soft heart and all, but if you don't pay more attention to this game, I'll be forced to rip that heart out and eat it before your eyes. Do I make myself clear?" Obviously she had made herself clear, because they all got quiet as they began to concentrate on their cards, the casual talk of murder forgotten in the heat of a killer game.
"Sa ziza zecob dela dalou'a / Boralea'e borale mi komi oula…" Nonsense words sung softly. Spike realized that he had been hearing them for a while under the card game. He took a deep breath. Over the sterile antiseptic scent of hospital, he could faintly smell vanilla, lavender and cigarettes mingled together, comfortable and homey. Julia smells. Now that the game was quiet, he could hear the barely audible click of her knitting needles. She was probably making yet another scarf; even Vicious had a couple of Julia's scarves. She was domestic that way. Spike could also recall the time that she had used one of those needles to kill someone. "Etawuae'o ela'o coralia wu'aila / Ilei pandera zel e' tomu pere no mo mai…" She was near the head of the bed, paying no attention to the calm talk of murder or the card game at all it seemed, singing almost under her breath in her low purr.
The relative quiet made it easier to think. Of his five remaining cohort members, only Vicious, Julia and Ansari knew enough about him to have betrayed him to that Vip. He tried to think of reasons that one of them would betray him. Ambition? Vicious was the most heartlessly ambitious of the three. Nothing stood in the way of his wishes for long. Ansari wasn't really less ambitious than Vicious, just more meticulous. She followed the rules. Julia wasn't really ambitious, but she was charmingly ruthless about getting her way. They had been a part of the most watched cohort in the syndicate; they were considered the future of the Red Dragon. If any one of them had wanted to be the leader of the cohort, then he or she would have killed him long ago. No, ambition made didn't make any sense. Mao, Annie and Doohan were the only others it could be, and none of them made any sense either. Doohan was a taciturn old goat who could give Mao lessons in secrecy, and what Mao knew, Annie knew, and vice versa.
Damn it, everything seemed so normal, Spike thought as he listened to the murmured card game and the low singing. These were actions that they had all done countless times. Thoughts of betrayal had no place here. Gods, he didn't want to think about it any longer. He wondered if his life was ever going to return to normal.
"What does the song mean?" he asked, without opening his eyes, focusing on something, anything, other than his thoughts. His voice was scratchy from disuse and pain. Julia stopped singing with a small gasp. He felt the air around him move heavily as she leaned in closer to him. There was rustling from the foot of the bed as the others left their game and gathered around.
"Spike, are you awake?" Julia asked softly, as if she didn't want to disturb him.
"No," he said, slowly opening his eyes, taking in his surroundings. The room was long and narrow. A small card table was set up at the end of the bed, while Julia's chair was at the head. Everyone was squished together, trying to see if he was really awake.
Julia's ocean-blue eyes sparkled down at him with her beautiful smile. For just an instant, he hated her. Everything is all your fault, Julia, some small part of him thought in that instant. If you had come with me, when I asked you, none of this would be happening now. If you had come with me, I wouldn't be here doubting…No; it's not fair to blame her and you know it, Spike. You chose to come back, now live with it. He closed his eyes, ashamed of his thoughts, as she leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Do you have a cigarette?" he asked, hoping that the scratchiness of his voice masked his feelings from her.
"I've missed you," she laughed. "And you know there's no smoking in hospitals."
"All the more reason to leave, then," Spike said as Vicious lit a cigarette and handed it to him. Julia rolled her eyes as Lin found a bedpan to use as an ashtray.
"No can do, Fluffy," Ansari said. "Mao said you were to stay put until you're healed or they kick us out, whichever comes first. Sorry." She didn't sound very sorry, in fact she grinned down at him when he frowned.
"I'm healed," he said, putting the cigarette in his mouth. He tried to prove his point by sitting up in the bed. "Ow, ow, ow," he groaned as he finally managed to prop himself up. Everybody laughed as he glared around the room at him or her; he saved a particularly ferocious scowl for Ansari. "Oh, and by the way: 'Fluffy' dies here and now, or I promise I'll find a way to make your life hell." Ansari raised an amused eyebrow. "You don't believe me? Ask Vicious what the leader of that cohort called him." Vicious gave her a look that said, in no uncertain terms, go ahead, and ask: make my day. "I'll find out something equally as bad about you if I have to ask your mother to do it." Spike smiled as Ansari rolled her eyes.
"You're no fun," she pouted mockingly.
Despite his suspicions, Spike found it easy to slip back into the cohort's group dynamic, despite the missing pieces. He noticed that everyone looked like they could be graduate students from Sabaea Terra University in their jeans and sweatshirts, confident and sure of their places in the universe, not hardhearted syndicate members. Julia fluffed a pillow and put it behind his back.
"Well at least your arms are sort of working again," Roshi said with a grin. "I don't think I've seen someone with two dislocated shoulders at once before. That had to be the most painful looking thing I've seen in a while." Spike laughed, blowing smoke; gods he really needed that nicotine fix.
"Ow. Damn it, don't make me laugh," he said as the movement caused his shoulders to ache. "Let me assure you, Roshi, that it was more painful than it looked."
"So, are you going to tell us why we had to come to Utopia, of all places, to cut you down from a warehouse ceiling?" Vicious asked. Spike looked at each of his friends, the members of his cohort, and decided that even with his personal misgivings, they deserved at least part of the truth. He sighed as he leaned his head back against the wall and watched as smoke from his cigarette curled to the ceiling, gathering his thoughts before answering.
"I was investigating who ordered the hit on us," Spike finally answered, not looking at any of them. The silence before the storm was deafening. They all spoke at once.
"You didn't tell us?" Vicious. "Does Mao know what you're doing?" Lin. "How dare you leave us out of this?" Ansari. "They were our friends too!" Julia. "I don't believe you would do that to us!" Roshi.
"I didn't have an opportunity to tell you," Spike said defensively, hating how weak he sounded. "Mao had me leave immediately, and then you were all scattered."
"Annie did tell us that you had to leave immediately," Julia conceded with a pretty pout, seemingly willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Ansari nodded thoughtfully.
"So why Utopia? Was it the Tigers?" Roshi asked eagerly, probably ready to go out and exact immediate revenge.
"Utopia is the bounty hunter's base of operations. It had nothing to do with the Tigers, Roshi. The situation is a lot more complicated than that," Spike said quietly. They all stared at him, waiting for him to continue. The silence stretched uncomfortably thin.
"I swear you're getting as secretive as Mao Yenrai himself, Spike," Vicious said, narrowing his eyes. "…I wouldn't be surprised if Mao hasn't told you yet. He does like to keep secrets…Secrets like that are going to be his undoing," the Vip's cultured voice echoed through Spike's mind. Spike felt as if ice water was poured down his spine. Was it Vicious who had betrayed him?
"It's not that I like keeping secrets, from you," Spike answered the accusation indignantly in order to hide the fact that he still wasn't being entirely truthful. "I just don't know how much Mao has told you. And the less you know about this, the better off you'll be. Trust me. Hell, I wish that I didn't know any of this," he shrugged and his shoulders made him instantly regret it.
"Wait a minute, wait a minute, wait a minute. What bounty hunter?" Ansari asked quietly.
"Umm, the bounty hunter who turned me in? Exactly what did Mao tell you?" Spike answered with a question of his own, raising his eyebrows.
"That we were to save you from yourself, of course," Vicious smirked. Lin and Roshi laughed, and even Julia smiled.
"Of course," Spike said rolling his eyes. Ansari was the only one not smiling; her hawk beak nose wrinkled in thought.
"Well, Vicious, it looks like you get to murder someone after all," Ansari said sweetly to Vicious; he snorted in response. "What can you tell us about this bounty hunter, Spike? Roshi can probably track him down and Vicious can take care of him before we leave Utopia." Spike felt his eyes widen in surprise. Oh shit, he thought. Obviously, Mao hadn't said anything to them about Jet; it had been a mistake to mention him.
"I don't think that's necessary, Ansari," he said in what he hoped was a bored tone of voice. He watched Vicious and Ansari trade a questioning look.
"It's not a problem Spike," Roshi volunteered. "I've already set up a Trojan program into the main ISSP database. This will give me a chance to test it out."
"I said it's not necessary," Spike said coldly in a tone that was meant to close the matter. Roshi shrugged, but Vicious, as usual, wasn't as easily put off.
"I don't understand you, Spike. You know the rules. This bounty hunter knows too much about you and we should get rid of him. What's the problem?" Spike knew that according to the Dragon Code what Vicious had said was absolutely true, but he also knew that Jet Black had helped him out of a tight situation at great personal risk to himself. If he were able to tell his friends the complete truth, they would probably understand why he didn't want to kill Jet; but, if he told them the truth, and his betrayer was indeed one of them, then the treacherous Vip might find out that Mao was on to him. Damn it all to hell, Spike thought, frowning. It seemed that Julia's bad driving karma from the night before was coming back to bite him on the ass.
"There's no problem. I said it's not necessary, and that's final." The sudden tension in the room caused it to feel as if the temperature had dropped 10 degrees. There was a collective indrawn breath as Lin, Roshi and Julia looked like children watching their parents fight: like they wanted to be somewhere else. Vicious and Ansari exchanged another pointed look, and Spike, raising an eyebrow, wondered when had they become so close.
"It's not your mission, Spike, and you aren't our leader, anymore," Ansari said coolly as she crossed her arms in challenge. Oh shit, Spike thought again.
"I may not be your leader any longer, Ansari, but you're wrong. Thanks for the rescue, but this is my mission, and it's my honor. I'll take care of the bounty hunter myself, is that understood?" he said bluntly, hoping to delay whatever plans she was making. It was Vicious' turn to raise an eyebrow.
"Fine," she said, raising her hands in surrender. "Fine. Why didn't you just say you wanted to do it yourself?"
"I didn't think I needed to," Spike sighed, relieved that she had backed down so easily.
"Ordinarily, you wouldn't need to tell us that, Spike. But for a second there, I was worried that you were growing a conscious or something," Vicious said quietly. "I should have known better." Julia watched Vicious with a small but telling frown, and Ansari smiled. "You know, I had a bet with the Van that you'd be the first to grow a conscious. They were backing Lin, but I knew better," Mao had said.
"Vicious has no faith in you, Spike. I know that you live by the Code. If you didn't, you know that we'd have killed you by now," Ansari laughed wolfishly. Spike kept his features in a mask-like smirk, he knew exactly why Vicious doubted him.
"You mean that you would have tried to kill me," Spike answered, looking at Vicious pointedly. Vicious gave Julia a cold sneer. Shit, shit, shit! Spike thought. This was definitely getting out of hand.
Lin spoke up through the teeth of the tension. "Zumiko would've told a joke right about now. Do you all remember the time she told that joke?" Everyone gave him a slant-eyed look, wondering why he had interrupted.
"Which time?" Julia asked, "Zumi was always telling jokes."
"The time that we all laughed," Lin answered solemnly. Spike looked at Lin with new eyes, it seemed that Lin sometimes caught on more than he let on. There was a pause before everyone erupted into giggles.
"Does anyone actually remember what that joke was about?" Roshi asked. "I think the only reason I laughed was because I realized that no one else was going to get it. That, and I was drunk."
"Those were the only reasons that anyone laughed, Roshi. I couldn't tell you that joke to save my life," Ansari answered, smiling widely.
"Zumi couldn't tell you that joke to save her life," Vicious said with a smirk.
"Zumi couldn't tell any joke to save her life," Spike laughed. The earlier tension that had filled the room dissipated in the remembrance of their fallen comrade.
"You know, I think that she did that on purpose," Julia said, her eyes twinkling with restrained laughter. "The law of averages would have us believe that she would've told a funny joke at least once."
"There was this kids' joke she told me once: 'Big fire down at the circus. The heat was in tents.'" Lin said mimicking Zumi's deadpan, piping voice. "I got it two weeks later at a completely inappropriate time."
"I don't get it," Roshi said frowning in concentration.
"Just wait two weeks," Spike laughed again.
"How about that time that street punk shorted Dylan those 2 vials of Red-Eye?" Vicious asked in his quiet growl, a cold glint of laughter flashed in his gray eyes. Ansari snorted, and Roshi began to grin. Julia covered her mouth as if trying to hold back her laughter and failing.
"That was the first time I saw someone actually shit himself in fear," Lin remarked, his nose wrinkling at the memory.
"That stupid punk-ass bitch should have known better," Roshi said. "You don't try to fuck over someone whose preferred weapon is explosives."
"Dylan was very creative, I'll give him that," Ansari said, smiling. "I mean I'd've just killed the punk."
"He was very lucky that Dylan only blew three of his fingers off," Julia chimed in, "I hear that his name in the street is 'Lefty.'"
"I was impressed with the fact that Dylan blew that guy's fingers up one at a time. That took some serious skill," Vicious said smiling coldly.
"You have to admit that no one ever tried to cheat us like that again," Spike said, remembering how that incident had made their reputation as a cohort to be feared. There were nods of agreement all around the room.
"Remember Ryokan's karaoke?" Ansari asked, giggling hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. Everyone started laughing again.
"I still have that on disc," Lin said.
"Oh gods, he sounded like he was raping cats," Roshi said laughing and shaking his head.
"Roshi, that's an image that I could have done without," Julia said glaring at him in mock anger.
"Well he did," Roshi said, defending himself. "How many shots did you and Dylan make him drink before he would go on stage, Vicious?"
"Too many," Vicious chuckled at the thought.
"I'm still trying to get the 'raping cats' image out of my head," Ansari grinned. "Do you remember the time when Muhammad went to rough up that scrawny fruit stand operator and lost?"
"And Zumiko had to save his ass?" Vicious added, laughing.
"Man, I'm going to miss them," Lin said quietly. Everyone sobered, tears of laughter slowly mingling with other tears.
"Yeah," was the only thing that Roshi could say.
"Here's to the best damn cohort ever!" Vicious said in a mock toast, raising an invisible glass.
"Salut!" Spike said, joining him, unable to raise his hand high.
"Salut!" Everyone shouted, miming the clinking of glasses.
There was a knock on the door, and Spike swallowed the mostly-smoked cigarette as a red-haired nurse entered. She wrinkled her nose at the smoky smell.
"Visiting hours are over; and there's no smoking in hospitals," she said pointedly. Six pairs of eyes looked at her with feigned innocence. She crossed her arms over her chest, not in the least bit fooled.
"But he just woke up," Julia said, trying to sound endearing. The nurse was unmoved.
"I don't make the rules young lady, but I do enforce them. I'll give you five minutes, and then you have to leave," the nurse said coolly as she walked out the door.
"Bitch," Julia mumbled, gathering up her yarn and needles. The others went back to the table and threw in their cards. Spike hacked up the cigarette butt into the bedpan.
"Oi, Vicious," Roshi said, sounding aggravated, "you had the Ace of Spades. There was no way for us to win." Ansari and Lin exchanged a smirk.
"Well, it's a good thing that we couldn't finish, isn't Roshi?" Vicious asked in his most annoyingly calm voice. Gathering up the cards, Roshi narrowed his eyes, but knew better than to say anything else.
"Hey, Lin, before you go, which Vips in the Organization deal with that drug Anasta – whatever?" Spike asked casually. Lin stopped as the others left the room waving broadly and loudly saying goodbyes still laughing. Spike smiled wistfully at their retreating backs.
"Business wise or personally?" Lin asked.
"Both."
"Elders Basri, Roethke, Chiu-feng and Boswell all deal Anastazorphyline, but the only one that I know of who is into the BDSM scene is Boswell. Shin's cohort is a part of Boswell's organization, and boy, he could tell you some stories…Why? You don't think that one of the Elders was involved in this, do you?" Lin asked with a growing look of horror. Spike thought fast.
"No, but if I know who sells it, I can ask who they sell it to," he improvised. He watched as Lin thought about it.
"That's pretty good thinking," he allowed. Spike smirked at him.
"That's why I was the leader," he said with a small chuckle. "Just don't tell Vicious or Ansari I said that." Lin laughed quietly.
"Do you need any help?"
"You could lend me your phone. I really need to call Mao, and I really don't want to use a public phone to do it. But other than that, no," Spike shook his head. "Like I said, it's my mission, and I'm sure that you have other things to worry about since you've been promoted. You should go before that nurse comes back." Lin fished his phone from his jacket and hid it in a fold of blanket. "By the way, thanks for making us remember." Lin blushed.
"See you later," he said, still smiling, as he left, closing the door behind him.
Spike stopped smiling. Boswell. He had been in Mao's antechamber the day that Spike had tried to leave, Spike remembered. Wasn't Boswell the one who got that officious toad Seymour to tell Mao that he was there? Was that why he had thought he had heard the Vip's voice before? If the Vip was Boswell, then who was his personal betrayer? Lin's younger brother Shin was in Boswell's organization, but Spike didn't know Shin as well as he knew Lin, and Lin didn't know Spike's life story, anyway. Damn, he needed to speak to Mao as soon as possible.
He reached for the phone just as the nurse came back in, pushing a cart and looking well put upon. "Your friends are obnoxious," she said frowningly. Spike let his hand drop away from the hidden phone.
"They can be, sometimes," he said neutrally. The nurse harrumphed. She looked at his chart, and then clattered slowly through the cart. Hurry up, Spike thought, wanting to talk to Mao, as she prepared what appeared to be several pills that could choke a horse and a small glass of water for him. Spike said nothing as he looked at the all of the pills with a raised eyebrow. The nurse turned her frown on him.
"You should take these, unless you like being in pain. I'm not going to be in and out of here during the night for bunch of whining, so I'd advise you to take them now." If it will make you leave faster, Spike thought as he palmed the pills and took a gulp of water. He'd take the pills later; he definitely didn't want to talk to Mao drugged out of his mind. The nurse patted him on the head like a puppy. "Good boy. The doctor will be in to see you tomorrow morning, and according to your chart, he'll probably release you. Thank the gods," the last bit was mumbled. Spike wondered, with a smirk, just how obnoxious his friends had been.
***
"Spike! You are looking a great deal better than the last time I saw you," Lin's small visu-phone made Mao's voice tinny. Spike blinked in surprise, and then remembered that the last time Mao saw him had been while he was being tortured. His became more aware of the ache in his shoulders.
"Did the plan work? Did we catch him?" Mao nodded and Spike felt a small smile of triumph find his lips. "Was it Boswell?"
"You don't need that information right now," Mao said quietly.
"But…" Mao cut off Spike's protest.
"I told you earlier that justice was mine to mete out, Spike, not yours," Mao said firmly. "If I told you which Elder was responsible for murdering part of your cohort, what would you do? Don't answer that; let me tell you. You would throw yourself headlong back to the wolves trying to get revenge, that's what. I've already watched you being tortured once; I don't think I want to experience that again so soon. All you need to know at this point is that the situation is now under control."
"Ok," Spike sighed, conceding with ill grace. Mao watched him hawkishly through the tiny screen.
"There is something else bothering you," he said. Spike sighed again. Just as the problem of the traitorous Vip was Mao's to deal with, the problem of Spike's personal betrayer was his to deal with. Besides, as unlikely as it seemed, Mao was one of the suspects. But there was something he could tell Mao.
"Why didn't you tell Ansari and Vicious and the others about the bounty hunter?" Spike asked. It was hard to see Mao raise an eyebrow through the screen.
"They did not need to know about him. Why?"
"Because they wanted to track him down and kill him," Spike answered simply. Mao tilted his head.
"Not only is that the wise thing to do, but you know that it is part of the Code. How is this a problem?"
"He helped us. Without him, you wouldn't have been able to catch the traitor. I think it would be dishonorable of us to kill him." It was Mao's turn to sigh.
"This is what happens when you are hot-headed and impulsive. I told you to think of everything before you proceeded with this plan. I'm sorry if this hurts you, Spike, but you know the rules. He knows too much about internal Dragon politics, and about you in particular. If you want, I can send someone else to take care of it."
"No," Spike said numbly. "No. It's my problem. I'll take care of it," he said echoing what he had told Ansari earlier.
"I am sorry, Spike," Mao repeated sadly. "I know you'll do the right thing."
"But I don't think that this is the right thing, Mao. There have to be other choices. If I can think of another way to deal with the bounty hunter…"
"If you can think of another way by tomorrow, Spike, I'll consider it. I won't make you any promises, though; and if you can't think of another way, then you know what you have to do." Spike nodded solemnly, knowing that Mao had just granted him an indulgence that he might not have granted anyone else. Mao clicked off.
The phone felt heavier in Spike's hand, and it wasn't just because of the throbbing pain in his shoulder.