Cowboy Bebop
That's Why They Call it the Blues
Chapter 1 - Somebody Else
"Maybe I have the guts to go mad
Maybe I'll mess me up real bad
Maybe I'll make you wish you had the old me back"
Scary Movie trivia test: What do you do when the monster/evil villain/zombie/ghost/other_______
arrives at your front doorstep?
A. Scream and let yourself be eaten/killed/kidnapped/disemboweled
B. Run away… or
C. Scream.
Most helpless, hapless, clueless and downright dumb females of the typical horror movies when faced with a similar situation would pick one of the options from above. However, since we all know Faye Valentine to not fit the category of a regular woman, she went with choice D, none of the above - or slammed the door shut.
Needless to say, Spike was a bit nonplussed. He stared at the golden numbers 284 as he listened quietly to the rustling noises coming from within. As he leaned in closer, the oak door swung open revealing one pissed off woman - complete with a gun aimed right at his head.
Spike blinked several times. He hadn't been expecting this either. Raising his hands slowly, he took a step back. "Hey now, Faye," he began.
"Who the hell are you?" she replied in an even voice, unmoving.
Chuckling slightly, Spike quirked an eyebrow at her. "You're joking, right?"
Faye's expression did not change. "I'm holding a frickin' gun to your head," she told him sternly. "Do I -look- like I'm joking to you?"
"I suppose not," Spike countered, shoving his hands into his pockets. He had ditched the faded blue suit for a worn leather jacket and a pair of denim jeans. He smirked slightly. "You're not high are you?"
The woman's eyebrow twitched slightly, something she had been accustomed to whenever someone managed to piss her off - Spike more than anyone else. "I don't abuse any narcotics or illegal
substances." she told him through strained teeth.
"Oh." There was a thoughtful pause. "Are you plastered then?"
Faye let out a strangled sound of frustration, bringing her weapon closer to his head. "I don't drink either," she told him. "Now who are you and what the hell do you want?"
"Come on now, Faye," Spike replied. "Drop the game; you know who I am."
"I know who you look like," she replied. Pausing, her voice dropped considerably. "But you can't be him…"
Curious about the change in her tone, Spike moved a bit closer. "What makes you say that?" he asked.
Lowering her gun ever so slightly, Faye took a step back, lowering her gaze. "Because he's dead."
Ignoring her gasp of surprise as he placed his hands firmly on her shoulders, Spike leaned closer towards her, their noses nearly touching. He could feel her breath on his neck and she could feel his on hers. His mismatched eyes stared into hers intently. "Am I really?"
Faye nearly dropped her gun. "Spike Spiegel…" Spike released her, stepping back a few paces to let the truth sink in. It didn't take as long as he thought for he quickly found himself staring down the barrel of her gun once again. "What the hell do you want?"
Spike's demeanor remained calm; something he found only seemed to anger her even more. "I need your help." he told her.
Faye laughed out loud. "My help?" she repeated. "You need my help? Now I -know- you're a phony. Since when has the great Spike Spiegel needed the help of me - Faye Valentine; Faye the bitch, the shrew woman? How could I possibly be of service to you?" She unlocked the gun's safety. Spike blinked again, surprised that he hadn't noticed that earlier.
Clearing his throat, Spike answered with, "A bounty."
A red lacquered finger spun the chamber. Fiery green eyes glared up at him angrily. "You want my help on a bounty?" she asked him incredulously. "You filthy sonuvagun!!"
"Now, Faye…"
"Don't you 'Now, Faye' me!" she snapped back at him. "You have no right! Hell, you don't even have the right be here! Do you have any idea of the shit I've been through!" She stepped out the threshold of her apartment, her gaze and her hand never wavering. "Three, Spike, three has been my unlucky number."
The green-haired bounty hunter frowned in confusion.
"You're good at math, aren't you, Spike?" she asked him, her temper still fuming. "Try to keep up with me - Take 3 times 20 and you get the 60 years I spent in cryo-freeze because of a freak accident that left me paralyzed with no treatment available at the time. Take another 3 times 10 and you get the 30 billion woolongs consisting of my hospital bill I woke up to with no knowledge of who I was, where I came from, or for that matter, why I was in the hospital in the first place! Oh - and let's not forget that
little bit tacked on by that worthless sack of crap Whitney." Faye took a deep breath seemingly to clear her thoughts, but Spike knew she was far from done.
"If you take another 3, you get the 3 years I spent aimlessly wandering the galaxy trying to piece together some semblance of my life all the while trying to figure out what happened to my old one. Needless to say, I managed to get myself into a bit of trouble along the way, adding more debts to my plate - that's when I meet you guys." Spike raised his eyebrow slightly.
Faye looked up at him, an unreadable expression on her face. "Do you know that the Bebop was the first and only place I can even remember feeling welcome?" Spike didn't respond. "I thought by living there, hunting bounties and all that… I thought I could forget about my past…" She laughed bitterly. "What a joke. It's just too bad it caught up with me."
Spike could sympathize there.
"What do you do when you find out that any hope of piecing together your past vaporized 50 some-odd years ago with the Gate when it obliterated Earth? What do you do when you realize you have memories of people and places that have long since turned to dust? What do you do when you realize that even though you're biologically 80 years old, but you have no clue what to do with your life?" She shook her gun slightly to emphasize her point. "You carry on, Spike, you persevere! But you wouldn't
understand any of that, would you?" Spike's mismatched eyes narrowed slightly. "No, you just had to screw it all to Hell, didn't you? And now you come back - 3 years later, mind you - asking for my help? Well, get this - I'd rather eat shi--?" Faye looked up to see Spike was no where to be seen. "Huh? Where'd he go?"
"Interesting place you've got here." Faye wheeled around, poking her head back inside her apartment where Spike was busy giving himself a personal tour.
Faye closed her eyes and let out a deep breath - counting to ten no doubt. "What are you doing?" she asked.
Spike stopped at a small bureau where a picture frame rested next to a vase of white roses. He picked up the frame looking at a man and a woman smiling at the camera. The woman was obviously Faye, though without her usual yellow headband, and wearing a lot less make-up. The man, however, Spike did not recognize. "Who's this?" he asked.
"What?" Faye asked wearily, shoving the gun she had been holding into a holster hanging over the back of the door. She glanced at the picture in his hand. "Oh, that's Macy."
"Macy?" Spike frowned. "What kind of name is that?"
"It's his name," Faye retorted irritably, reaching out for the frame. "Now, give that back."
Grinning boyishly, Spike held it back out of her reach. "Touchy, aren't we?" he asked. "What is he to you? Your boyfriend?"
Faye twitched slightly; he had hit a soft spot. "No, he's not my boyfriend." she answered. "He's my roommate."
"Your roommate?" His tone sounded a bit skeptical.
"I'm not screwing him if that's what you're suggesting." Faye replied. "Just because I used to dress like a slut doesn't mean I am one." She plopped down in an overstuffed chair in the living room - shooting him a dirty look, of course. "He's just a friend."
"I see." Spike replied, sitting down across from her. Her first remark, surprisingly enough, had stung a little. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little relief, though he wasn't sure why.
Eyeing him skeptically behind thick eyelashes, Faye replied smugly, "Jealous?"
Nearly dropping the cigarette he had procured from his jacket, Spike sputtered a negative. "What would give you an idea like that?" he frowned.
"It was just a question." Faye answered innocently. "Besides, he's not your type anyway. Macy likes his men a bit more sensitive."
Nearly burning off the tip of his finger, Spike cleared his throat. "I'd rather not know, thanks." he replied shooting her an evil glare.
"Suit yourself." Propping her legs up on the armrest of her chair, she folded her arms behind her head, staring up at the ceiling. "So, about this bounty…"
Putting away his lighter, Spike glanced at her nonchalantly. "What about it?"
Faye looked over at him. "That's exactly what I'd like to know." she replied. "What's the bounty and why do you want my help?"
"Actually," Spike replied. "I was hoping to get everyone's help - you, Jet, and Ed - on this one." He took a long drag on the cigarette, letting out a puff of smoke. He closed his eyes as the nicotine passed through his system. He knew the blasted things would kill him one day, but he couldn't bring himself to quit. Feeling Faye's stare on him, Spike produced another one from his pocket, offering it to her.
She seemed a bit stunned at first, but she shook her head in a negative. "I quit." she told him.
"Really?" he asked. "When?"
"About two years ago." she answered. "There were times when I didn't have enough money to buy'em and…"
"And?"
Faye turned her gaze back towards the ceiling. "And since you weren't around to steal from… I just decided to quit."
"I see."
Spike's expression hadn't changed since he had lit his cigarette, serving to unnerve Faye even more. It was bad enough he was sitting in her living room smoking a cigarette when he was supposed to be six feet under, but did he have to be so damned casual about it? It was like he hadn't changed at all! It was like some horror flick where someone rises from the dead turning into a flesh-eating zombie. Not only was it a bit creepy, but it was really starting to get on her nerves!
"So," she replied, a bit forcefully. "About the bounty again?"
"Oh yeah," Spike replied absently, as if she had broken his chain of thought. Fancy that. "Like I was saying, it's a big job, so I was gonna need everyone's help if I was going to pull it off. You still do bounties don't you?"
Faye was staring at one of her hands as if it was the most interesting thing she had ever seen. "Yeah, of course." she told him, turning her head back towards him. "How much is it worth?"
"100 million."
Faye whistled delicately, drawing Spike's attention to her lips. Red like a rose; red like blood… Spike shook his head slightly. "Yeah…" he murmured.
"So, who is it?" she asked.
"That's just it," Spike replied. "I don't know."
Faye sat up, her full attention on him now. "You don't know?"
The green haired bounty hunter shook his head. "Nope," he replied. "That's why I need Ed. She can pull up the information we need to nail this guy."
"How do you even know about the bounty at all?"
"The only thing I know is one, how much they're worth," Spike answered calmly. "And that we all have something in common with them."
"What?"
"Whoever this bounty is," Spike replied. "They have something in common with each of us - whether it's insignificant or not. We all know something about him or her - and the same goes for them."
Faye folded her hands in her lap. Her brow furrowed deep in thought. "I see." she murmured.
As she sat there, a pensive expression on her face, Spike took the opportunity to get a good look at her. Overall, she hadn't changed that much. She was the same height, same build. She looked a bit weary, but her green eyes held the same depth and passion they always had. Passion? Spike shook his head at that one.
Like in the picture, Faye had toned down on the make-up a little bit, no longer looking like the hybrid cross between a china doll and a prostitute. Though her hair remained the same length, she had ditched the yellow headband, letting her dark violet hair hang loosely around her face. Occasionally, she would raise a hand to brush a few strands out of her face. The effort, however always proved to be in vain, as the strands would always return to their current position.
It was almost kind of cute.
Spike nearly smirked beside himself. Three years ago, he would have hardly thought to describe Faye Valentine as cute. He wasn't about to admit to her that he sometimes enjoyed seeing her run around in that skimpy yellow ensemble she had been so accustomed to, but it really didn't leave anything up to the imagination… so to speak. Nowadays, Faye resolved herself to wearing a large, loose fitting sweater with wide-legged jeans. A pair of black boots rested at the base of her chair. Glancing in the
corner, Spike could see the old red jacket she always used to wear. He smiled thoughtfully.
Faye lifted her head, glancing in Spike's direction. She was a bit unnerved to find that he was staring back at her, though rather than looking at her he seemed to be looking through her. It was as if he were looking inside of her. It made her nervous.
She cleared her throat slightly, rising him out of his stupor. "So, let me get this straight," she replied evenly. "You want me, along with Jet and Ed, to help you catch a bounty. You know nothing about this bounty except that we know something about them and they know something about us."
"Exactly." Spike answered.
She scoffed slightly, holding a hand to her temple to ward off an oncoming migraine. "And you actually believe you can pull this off?"
"Sure," he replied simply. "We've always managed before."
"Yeah, well," Faye replied in a bitter tone. "Things are different now."
Spike could clearly see that. Taking another drag of his cigarette, Spike rose from his seat, tossing the butt in an ashtray on a nearby coffee table. "Look, I don't really have a lot of time to waste, Faye," Frustration was starting show in his tone. "Are you going to help or not?"
Faye stared at him blankly. As he turned to leave, she replied, "When do you start?"
Spike stopped, turning to face her. "As soon as possible." he told her. "I've already contacted Ed and Jet."
"And they both agreed?"
"Ed did." he answered, watching her as she rose out of her seat slowly, still deliberating her decision. "She's supposed to touch down on Mars within the next few days."
"And Jet?"
"I haven't met face to face with Jet yet," Spike replied quietly. "He told me he'd join if I managed to get everyone. I told him I'd meet with him right after I saw you."
"I see." Faye pulled off her sweater, revealing a black sleeveless blouse underneath. Tossing it back in her chair, she put on her red jacket, though she neglected to tie it at her waist like she used to. She grabbed her boots and her gun as she headed for the door only to stop and glance back at Spike.
"Well," she replied. "What are we waiting for?"
End of Chapter 1
That's Why They Call it the Blues
Chapter 1 - Somebody Else
"Maybe I have the guts to go mad
Maybe I'll mess me up real bad
Maybe I'll make you wish you had the old me back"
Scary Movie trivia test: What do you do when the monster/evil villain/zombie/ghost/other_______
arrives at your front doorstep?
A. Scream and let yourself be eaten/killed/kidnapped/disemboweled
B. Run away… or
C. Scream.
Most helpless, hapless, clueless and downright dumb females of the typical horror movies when faced with a similar situation would pick one of the options from above. However, since we all know Faye Valentine to not fit the category of a regular woman, she went with choice D, none of the above - or slammed the door shut.
Needless to say, Spike was a bit nonplussed. He stared at the golden numbers 284 as he listened quietly to the rustling noises coming from within. As he leaned in closer, the oak door swung open revealing one pissed off woman - complete with a gun aimed right at his head.
Spike blinked several times. He hadn't been expecting this either. Raising his hands slowly, he took a step back. "Hey now, Faye," he began.
"Who the hell are you?" she replied in an even voice, unmoving.
Chuckling slightly, Spike quirked an eyebrow at her. "You're joking, right?"
Faye's expression did not change. "I'm holding a frickin' gun to your head," she told him sternly. "Do I -look- like I'm joking to you?"
"I suppose not," Spike countered, shoving his hands into his pockets. He had ditched the faded blue suit for a worn leather jacket and a pair of denim jeans. He smirked slightly. "You're not high are you?"
The woman's eyebrow twitched slightly, something she had been accustomed to whenever someone managed to piss her off - Spike more than anyone else. "I don't abuse any narcotics or illegal
substances." she told him through strained teeth.
"Oh." There was a thoughtful pause. "Are you plastered then?"
Faye let out a strangled sound of frustration, bringing her weapon closer to his head. "I don't drink either," she told him. "Now who are you and what the hell do you want?"
"Come on now, Faye," Spike replied. "Drop the game; you know who I am."
"I know who you look like," she replied. Pausing, her voice dropped considerably. "But you can't be him…"
Curious about the change in her tone, Spike moved a bit closer. "What makes you say that?" he asked.
Lowering her gun ever so slightly, Faye took a step back, lowering her gaze. "Because he's dead."
Ignoring her gasp of surprise as he placed his hands firmly on her shoulders, Spike leaned closer towards her, their noses nearly touching. He could feel her breath on his neck and she could feel his on hers. His mismatched eyes stared into hers intently. "Am I really?"
Faye nearly dropped her gun. "Spike Spiegel…" Spike released her, stepping back a few paces to let the truth sink in. It didn't take as long as he thought for he quickly found himself staring down the barrel of her gun once again. "What the hell do you want?"
Spike's demeanor remained calm; something he found only seemed to anger her even more. "I need your help." he told her.
Faye laughed out loud. "My help?" she repeated. "You need my help? Now I -know- you're a phony. Since when has the great Spike Spiegel needed the help of me - Faye Valentine; Faye the bitch, the shrew woman? How could I possibly be of service to you?" She unlocked the gun's safety. Spike blinked again, surprised that he hadn't noticed that earlier.
Clearing his throat, Spike answered with, "A bounty."
A red lacquered finger spun the chamber. Fiery green eyes glared up at him angrily. "You want my help on a bounty?" she asked him incredulously. "You filthy sonuvagun!!"
"Now, Faye…"
"Don't you 'Now, Faye' me!" she snapped back at him. "You have no right! Hell, you don't even have the right be here! Do you have any idea of the shit I've been through!" She stepped out the threshold of her apartment, her gaze and her hand never wavering. "Three, Spike, three has been my unlucky number."
The green-haired bounty hunter frowned in confusion.
"You're good at math, aren't you, Spike?" she asked him, her temper still fuming. "Try to keep up with me - Take 3 times 20 and you get the 60 years I spent in cryo-freeze because of a freak accident that left me paralyzed with no treatment available at the time. Take another 3 times 10 and you get the 30 billion woolongs consisting of my hospital bill I woke up to with no knowledge of who I was, where I came from, or for that matter, why I was in the hospital in the first place! Oh - and let's not forget that
little bit tacked on by that worthless sack of crap Whitney." Faye took a deep breath seemingly to clear her thoughts, but Spike knew she was far from done.
"If you take another 3, you get the 3 years I spent aimlessly wandering the galaxy trying to piece together some semblance of my life all the while trying to figure out what happened to my old one. Needless to say, I managed to get myself into a bit of trouble along the way, adding more debts to my plate - that's when I meet you guys." Spike raised his eyebrow slightly.
Faye looked up at him, an unreadable expression on her face. "Do you know that the Bebop was the first and only place I can even remember feeling welcome?" Spike didn't respond. "I thought by living there, hunting bounties and all that… I thought I could forget about my past…" She laughed bitterly. "What a joke. It's just too bad it caught up with me."
Spike could sympathize there.
"What do you do when you find out that any hope of piecing together your past vaporized 50 some-odd years ago with the Gate when it obliterated Earth? What do you do when you realize you have memories of people and places that have long since turned to dust? What do you do when you realize that even though you're biologically 80 years old, but you have no clue what to do with your life?" She shook her gun slightly to emphasize her point. "You carry on, Spike, you persevere! But you wouldn't
understand any of that, would you?" Spike's mismatched eyes narrowed slightly. "No, you just had to screw it all to Hell, didn't you? And now you come back - 3 years later, mind you - asking for my help? Well, get this - I'd rather eat shi--?" Faye looked up to see Spike was no where to be seen. "Huh? Where'd he go?"
"Interesting place you've got here." Faye wheeled around, poking her head back inside her apartment where Spike was busy giving himself a personal tour.
Faye closed her eyes and let out a deep breath - counting to ten no doubt. "What are you doing?" she asked.
Spike stopped at a small bureau where a picture frame rested next to a vase of white roses. He picked up the frame looking at a man and a woman smiling at the camera. The woman was obviously Faye, though without her usual yellow headband, and wearing a lot less make-up. The man, however, Spike did not recognize. "Who's this?" he asked.
"What?" Faye asked wearily, shoving the gun she had been holding into a holster hanging over the back of the door. She glanced at the picture in his hand. "Oh, that's Macy."
"Macy?" Spike frowned. "What kind of name is that?"
"It's his name," Faye retorted irritably, reaching out for the frame. "Now, give that back."
Grinning boyishly, Spike held it back out of her reach. "Touchy, aren't we?" he asked. "What is he to you? Your boyfriend?"
Faye twitched slightly; he had hit a soft spot. "No, he's not my boyfriend." she answered. "He's my roommate."
"Your roommate?" His tone sounded a bit skeptical.
"I'm not screwing him if that's what you're suggesting." Faye replied. "Just because I used to dress like a slut doesn't mean I am one." She plopped down in an overstuffed chair in the living room - shooting him a dirty look, of course. "He's just a friend."
"I see." Spike replied, sitting down across from her. Her first remark, surprisingly enough, had stung a little. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little relief, though he wasn't sure why.
Eyeing him skeptically behind thick eyelashes, Faye replied smugly, "Jealous?"
Nearly dropping the cigarette he had procured from his jacket, Spike sputtered a negative. "What would give you an idea like that?" he frowned.
"It was just a question." Faye answered innocently. "Besides, he's not your type anyway. Macy likes his men a bit more sensitive."
Nearly burning off the tip of his finger, Spike cleared his throat. "I'd rather not know, thanks." he replied shooting her an evil glare.
"Suit yourself." Propping her legs up on the armrest of her chair, she folded her arms behind her head, staring up at the ceiling. "So, about this bounty…"
Putting away his lighter, Spike glanced at her nonchalantly. "What about it?"
Faye looked over at him. "That's exactly what I'd like to know." she replied. "What's the bounty and why do you want my help?"
"Actually," Spike replied. "I was hoping to get everyone's help - you, Jet, and Ed - on this one." He took a long drag on the cigarette, letting out a puff of smoke. He closed his eyes as the nicotine passed through his system. He knew the blasted things would kill him one day, but he couldn't bring himself to quit. Feeling Faye's stare on him, Spike produced another one from his pocket, offering it to her.
She seemed a bit stunned at first, but she shook her head in a negative. "I quit." she told him.
"Really?" he asked. "When?"
"About two years ago." she answered. "There were times when I didn't have enough money to buy'em and…"
"And?"
Faye turned her gaze back towards the ceiling. "And since you weren't around to steal from… I just decided to quit."
"I see."
Spike's expression hadn't changed since he had lit his cigarette, serving to unnerve Faye even more. It was bad enough he was sitting in her living room smoking a cigarette when he was supposed to be six feet under, but did he have to be so damned casual about it? It was like he hadn't changed at all! It was like some horror flick where someone rises from the dead turning into a flesh-eating zombie. Not only was it a bit creepy, but it was really starting to get on her nerves!
"So," she replied, a bit forcefully. "About the bounty again?"
"Oh yeah," Spike replied absently, as if she had broken his chain of thought. Fancy that. "Like I was saying, it's a big job, so I was gonna need everyone's help if I was going to pull it off. You still do bounties don't you?"
Faye was staring at one of her hands as if it was the most interesting thing she had ever seen. "Yeah, of course." she told him, turning her head back towards him. "How much is it worth?"
"100 million."
Faye whistled delicately, drawing Spike's attention to her lips. Red like a rose; red like blood… Spike shook his head slightly. "Yeah…" he murmured.
"So, who is it?" she asked.
"That's just it," Spike replied. "I don't know."
Faye sat up, her full attention on him now. "You don't know?"
The green haired bounty hunter shook his head. "Nope," he replied. "That's why I need Ed. She can pull up the information we need to nail this guy."
"How do you even know about the bounty at all?"
"The only thing I know is one, how much they're worth," Spike answered calmly. "And that we all have something in common with them."
"What?"
"Whoever this bounty is," Spike replied. "They have something in common with each of us - whether it's insignificant or not. We all know something about him or her - and the same goes for them."
Faye folded her hands in her lap. Her brow furrowed deep in thought. "I see." she murmured.
As she sat there, a pensive expression on her face, Spike took the opportunity to get a good look at her. Overall, she hadn't changed that much. She was the same height, same build. She looked a bit weary, but her green eyes held the same depth and passion they always had. Passion? Spike shook his head at that one.
Like in the picture, Faye had toned down on the make-up a little bit, no longer looking like the hybrid cross between a china doll and a prostitute. Though her hair remained the same length, she had ditched the yellow headband, letting her dark violet hair hang loosely around her face. Occasionally, she would raise a hand to brush a few strands out of her face. The effort, however always proved to be in vain, as the strands would always return to their current position.
It was almost kind of cute.
Spike nearly smirked beside himself. Three years ago, he would have hardly thought to describe Faye Valentine as cute. He wasn't about to admit to her that he sometimes enjoyed seeing her run around in that skimpy yellow ensemble she had been so accustomed to, but it really didn't leave anything up to the imagination… so to speak. Nowadays, Faye resolved herself to wearing a large, loose fitting sweater with wide-legged jeans. A pair of black boots rested at the base of her chair. Glancing in the
corner, Spike could see the old red jacket she always used to wear. He smiled thoughtfully.
Faye lifted her head, glancing in Spike's direction. She was a bit unnerved to find that he was staring back at her, though rather than looking at her he seemed to be looking through her. It was as if he were looking inside of her. It made her nervous.
She cleared her throat slightly, rising him out of his stupor. "So, let me get this straight," she replied evenly. "You want me, along with Jet and Ed, to help you catch a bounty. You know nothing about this bounty except that we know something about them and they know something about us."
"Exactly." Spike answered.
She scoffed slightly, holding a hand to her temple to ward off an oncoming migraine. "And you actually believe you can pull this off?"
"Sure," he replied simply. "We've always managed before."
"Yeah, well," Faye replied in a bitter tone. "Things are different now."
Spike could clearly see that. Taking another drag of his cigarette, Spike rose from his seat, tossing the butt in an ashtray on a nearby coffee table. "Look, I don't really have a lot of time to waste, Faye," Frustration was starting show in his tone. "Are you going to help or not?"
Faye stared at him blankly. As he turned to leave, she replied, "When do you start?"
Spike stopped, turning to face her. "As soon as possible." he told her. "I've already contacted Ed and Jet."
"And they both agreed?"
"Ed did." he answered, watching her as she rose out of her seat slowly, still deliberating her decision. "She's supposed to touch down on Mars within the next few days."
"And Jet?"
"I haven't met face to face with Jet yet," Spike replied quietly. "He told me he'd join if I managed to get everyone. I told him I'd meet with him right after I saw you."
"I see." Faye pulled off her sweater, revealing a black sleeveless blouse underneath. Tossing it back in her chair, she put on her red jacket, though she neglected to tie it at her waist like she used to. She grabbed her boots and her gun as she headed for the door only to stop and glance back at Spike.
"Well," she replied. "What are we waiting for?"
End of Chapter 1