Disclaimer: (why...why must you make me say this??) *sigh* alright, I don't own Cowboy Bebop or it's characters, but I do own ..... uh...well, I own....*thinks hard*...well, books...and I know!!! The cab driver *beams* er, well, now that I've bored you, you can read something good!

By the way, most of the chapters will continue directly where the last chapter left off, so you're not left stranded, 'k?

I don't think, in either of my two lives, that I have ever cried so much. I cried not only for what I had lost in Spike himself, but also for what I had just let Spike do. Wasn't it inevitable that Spike was gonna get himself killed it he went in all by himself? If only he had a partner...

That was it. Suddenly forgetting to cry I wiped my wet face and ran to the comm. unit in the bridge, slamming into walls and tripping over furniture in my haste. I arrived at the comm. system, breathless and excited. I dialed the operator and got a number to call.

"Hongo's Mars taxi service, anywhere, anytime. How may I help you?"

"Hi, I need a cab, uh," I cast around frantically for the slip of paper that held our whereabouts. "Big ship, 1 mi NE of the Mars Battle Memorial. Big smoke trails. Can't miss it."

"Y'okay. Ah, we'll get someone there in about-"

"I'm in a rush; I'll pay extra."

The man, greedy of course, looked up from whatever he'd been messing with, "In about fif-teen minutes." He flashed what I guessed was supposed to be a charming smile.

"Thanks for your service. Bye." I hung up. Weapons, definite need of weapons. I ran around, gathering up whatever explosive devices Spike had left behind. I loaded my own gun.

"I've already watched you leave to kill yourself once, Spike."

I changed my clothes to black. Black boots, black boot cut pants, a black tank top with a red heart pierced by a silver sword stitched in, and a black thigh-length coat.

"I'll be damned if I watch you go a second time without going with you."

I started to put my weapons on my person, and after I had finished with that I wrote a note to Jet.

"And I'll go to hell if I have to bury you before I say 'goodbye',"

The taxi roared up, a bit louder than I'd hoped for. I had wanted to go without having to confront Jet, but as I ran to the hatch, I heard him calling.

"Faye? Faye! What shit are you pullin', huh?" Jet looked the frustrated father as he stepped in front of me.

"I'm going to go put some actual brains in that fuzzy-haired maniac." I replied calmly.

"Spikes gonna die." Jet was resolute in his prediction. I looked up, surprised. "Sitting Bull- I, uh- he- he saw it in his dreams."

I stared at Jet, and narrowed my eyes. I strode up to him and grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down to my eye level.

"Ed and Ein are gone. Spike has gone haring off. I've remembered my memories, and my real family is gone. Suddenly, it seems the only person left is the one I thought would keep us all together.

"I'm going to put my only place left to go, and the only people left in my life, back into order, piece by piece, starting with Spike. I will bring him back. Alive. And no half-witted Indian chief lunatic is going to tell me that his dream is the end-all, see-all future for ONE STUPID MAN! You got that?" Jet stared at m silently, carefully removing my hand from his collar. "Faye-"

"Don't EVEN start, Jet. I'm at least going to try." My voice cracked on the last word, and I turned to flee.

"Faye...Faye! Don't go like Spike did." That stopped me and I turned, smiling grimly. "Oh yeah. See you around, Jet. I'll need you to pick me, and Spike's shot up ass, up later. Until later!"

"Augh...Faye!"

I ran out, laughing in triumph, until I climbed into the cab, where I calmed down enough to order, "Take me into the city. You know where the Red Dragon Syndicate is?"

The man gasped, turning to look at me fearfully. "Red Dragons? I-I don't know nothin',

I-"

"Just friggin' take me there! I'm in a pissy mood, but I'll pay extra, or you won't have to worry bout money, or anything else, any-whoah!" He floored it, and we sped, slowly to be sure, to the only place I was sure that Spike had gone.

*

"Argh! I don't give a single damn about your license or whatever, you asshole! I need to get-to-the-headquarters. NOW!" I didn't care how I appeared, either. There had been an accident in some store, and all the streets were blocked, preventing us from going any farther.

"Go through them, damn it!" I started to shake the poor cab driver.

"Miss-uh-I can't do that -augh! - not unless you -er- want the cops down on you-" I stopped shaking him, my eyes narrowed to slits.

"Fine." He cowered at my suddenly icy calm voice as I let him go. I thrust a wad of W at him.

"Whoa, thanks!"

"Shove it." I climbed out of the car, whipped around, and caught the door.

"What?" The cab driver sounded annoyed, which in turn infuriated me. What would it take to make this guy show some respect?

"Where's the syndicate headquarters?" I hissed. He got a sly look about him, so I pulled a gun, and suddenly enough, he was docile. He stammered out the directions and I flung a bill at him, not even bothering to shut his door.

I soon found out, though, that running through streets at dawn, and trying to find the syndicate, was no easy thing. I got into two fights, which I won, of course, making me bleed and giving me severe frustration. I was right around that time really pissed off. I couldn't find the headquarters and I was being attacked before I even got into the stupid building.

Finally I jogged around a corner, and there the cursed thing sat, glass laying around it's base like little pieces of stars, glinting in the morning sun, while the windows of the syndicate were dark and twisted: dead and empty. A little shiver found its way down my back at the sight of destruction. It was the work of a huge fight, and from all the windows that were blown out; it looked like Spike had gotten to the top.

I only hoped I wasn't too late, as I ran through the blown-out doorways into the syndicate, where a scene of carnage greeted my eyes. I winced and ran to the elevator, pushing buttons to go to the top. It had looked like the roof had been blown off, which meant that Spike had to be on the top floor.

"Stay alive for me, huh?" I whispered in the silence of the elevator, the wait driving me out of my mind. I was never one to wait when a comrade was in danger, and the elevator was certainly no exception.

When it stopped I ran out, gun up, but to my intense disgust, I wasn't at the top floor.

"Damn it," I cursed, punching a wall only to recoil at the pain it afforded me. Cursing some more I ran, shaking my already bruising knuckles as I tried to find stairs or another elevator. It wasn't too hard, considering the path of dead bodies that Spike had left as the way he'd gone.

I found another elevator and stepped inside, and the button I pushed with a trembling hand read 'top floor'. This was it. I'd either be pushed into action or already grieving when I reached the top. All I had to do was suffer the intolerable wait, which I did by pacing.

I absolutely refused to think about the future. All that would do was put me into a serious downward spiral that I couldn't afford to take. The elevator chimed its end and the doors opened. I took a very deep breath, trembling as I put up my gun and hoped that I wouldn't be killed before I could reach Spike. Or that I wouldn't hinder him, as I had so often done.

I leaped out of the elevator like some action chick might do, rolled and crouched, gun up and ready to shoot. Unfortunately for my already overloaded nerves, no one was there. I got up, shaking and laughed nervously.

I walked up five steps and through the twisted remnants of a doorway.

"Make it through, Spike, or so help me, I'll drag you out of whatever hell you're in and put you in a worse one." I muttered, nervousness and anger clashing with undesirable effects in my stomach.

The wind played eerie tunes through twisted and blackened metal as I surveyed a graveyard of bodies. A whole group of them at the foot of a blood-red staircase, and one more at the top. It triggered a gasp from me as I started to run, desperation quickening my already hard-working heart.

"Spike?" I shouted, running up the stairs, my breath catching in my throat in a curse as I reached the top. Instead of the bastard I wanted to see, it was a son of a bitch asshole. Vicious.

"I see you got pegged. But where's Spike?" There was no victory in the fact that Vicious was finally dead. No delight in the fact that the devil could no longer plague us in the form of a man. Just an extreme sense of weariness and defeat. Could I ever do anything right? I probably should have just stolen Jet's ship and then maybe I'd actually have made it in time to help Spike.

I dully noticed, as I stared in forlorn defeat at the ground, dark stains in the carpet, the rusty brown of dried blood. Only it wasn't in spots, as you'd expect in a bloody fight, but a large pool. And it wasn't Vicious's; it was pooled near him, but not below him. As if someone had stood, bleeding, for a long time. A small spark lit up in my brain as I followed little drips away from the pool, and down the stairs, where they suddenly stopped and pooled again.

I looked up in consternation, once again noticing the group of men that lay dead at the foot of the stairs. The spark suddenly burst into a tiny flame as an idea of what happened took form in my head.

Spike had killed Vicious, stood next to him for a while, and then started to walk away. Meanwhile, a group of syndicate men gathered, watching Spike until he'd collapsed on the stairs. Then there'd been a battle between the men for some sort of supremacy before one group had won and took Spike away. I growled, suddenly very angry. If Spike was to be further harmed- but then there was a chance that he was the new leader. It made for interesting thought, although not so pleasant, in my opinion.

Hell, we were going to need help for this one. I ripped a piece of my coat off, and tried to soak up some of the blood I thought was Spike's. I couldn't get any from the stairs or the drips, but the large pool next to Vicious was still a little wet. My brow creased in concern. He'd had to stand there for a very long time for that amount of blood to collect. It was a lot of blood he'd lost.

I walked back down the stairs, silently brooding. Someone was going to pay. Faye Valentine may not be so good at getting what she wanted, but Faye Morshigo had always gotten her wish. I'd make sure of that. Someone would pay very, very dearly.

~*~

KEEP DANCING' WITH DEATH, COWBOY

Wow, sorry so long, I never intended it to be that long...hehe, whenever I type stuff up, it's always longer than what I have written down...go figure.

Oh well, I know for a fact that the next chapter will be shorter...at least in it's written form ;). R&R, you know the author loves that. :D

hmmm...should I give u a teaser? Nope...what I have written down is way too short for that. Hehe...sorry. I'll try to get the next chapter up quickly, I already have it written down, all I have to do is type it up. The only problem is that I hate typing -.- Sooo, maybe in a week or two?? Until then, my appreciated readers (i'll luv u more if u review!)

~| Treekat |~*