Disclaimer: blah blah blah....jeez, this is getting old...anyhow, i don't own cowboy bebop or it's characters or anything associated with that title (except for this story, of course ^.^) only smart and rich people own any kind of widespread anime, and sadly, i am not one of those people. Go figure. Oh yes, however i do own Greg. Whoopee.
~*~
I stared in unbelieving silence at Jet as he laid out his proposal.
"He's the one that I was showing around earlier. The thing is, Faye, if we're working on getting this ship off this planet anytime soon we need lots of money fast. In order to get lots of money fast you need more people. This guy has got an excellent shot, and he's done bounty jobs before. We can use him and we need him. So I proposed a deal to him. He'll help us in return for food and a home aboard the Bebop."
"No." I snorted in derision, lighting up a cigarette and staring at Jet with an I-can't-believe-you-wasted-my-time-with-this look. He knocked the cigarette out of my hand and put it out on the floor.
"What the hell are you doing?" I yelled at him as I took out another cigarette, muttering to myself about psychos who didn't know how much cigarettes could cost. He took that cigarette also, as well as the pack, and threw it in the trash. My stare hardened as I watched my little relaxers get thrown away.
"You had better have an explanation Jet." I warned, narrowing my eyes at him.
"This ship has become non-smoking. That was one of his requirements." Jet explained, no trace of apology in his expression. I glared full out at him, fuming, my eyes narrowed to slits.
"Hell. No." I gritted out between my clenched teeth.
"First of all, this is my ship, and it's my choice to make, not yours. As for the reason of why I agreed to this condition, it is simply that he has 100,000 W he's willing to give to us. We can be out of here in less than a week with that kind of money. However you will still have to go get bounty heads, as that will cover the repair bill, but not our food," he paused and took a long, measuring look at me. "That means we can find Spike quicker, as well," he added softly.
"When we find Spike, I'm gonna whoop his ass good." I growled heatedly, folding my arms and leaning against the wall.
"Is that a yes then?" Jet asked with a smug note in his voice and a smirk on his face.
"F**k you, Jet." I snarled, holding up a finger as I stalked away. I heard his chuckling behind me before I slammed a door in my wake.
*
There was an irritating ringing noise ripping me from my pillow and sleep. It was very loud and annoying. Loud and annoying things deserved to die.
I groped for my gun and when I found it I gripped it hard, bringing it around to shoot the ringing sound. But when my finger moved for the trigger nothing happened. I growled under my breath in frustration.
"I do believe you have to grip the handle of the gun in order to shoot it." Came an amused voice, very serious, above the ringing.
"Ungh." I flung the gun at the voice and heard it clatter to the floor.
"Oh dear, I'm hurt." The voice was sarcastic as well as amused, pissing me off.
I opened one eye slightly to take in the target. Male. Tall. Aggravating.
"You need to get up. We have a bounty to catch."
We? Since when was there a 'we' in my bounty head?
"Come on, will I have to dump water on your head? Or perhaps ice cubes down your shirt?" He mused, putting a hand to his chin as if to think. If he was capable of that. I doubted any male was capable of that task.
I opened my eyes all the way, regarding him coolly as I raised my head slightly. He raised an eyebrow at me as if wondering when I would comply with his demand. In my slightly dark room he looked an imposing figure, around as tall as Spike with commanding eyes and a slightly arched nose with thin lips, making him look (I had to admit) a little handsome. As of now his features were cast into haughtiness, complete with an arrogant smirk. Currently he was slouching a little with a relaxed air about him, the whole nothing-can-touch-me attitude you'd expect from a teenager.
"Put anything wet or cold on me or down my shirt and you will be in pain." I said mildly, giving my tone an edge. His expression, if anything, changed into a slight sneer, as he stared down at me.
"Huh. I doubt it." He chuckled, his voice a velvety baritone with a smug cast to it.
I raised an eyebrow and, moving quicker than it would take him the time to react, I swung a foot around off of my bed and stopped it directly at his crotch. "Checkmate." I looked up at him, my voice oozing with self-satisfaction.
"Well." He looked down as I applied a little pressure. "That's not good, now is it?" He took a step back and looked at me, something akin to respect lighting his eyes. They abruptly widened slightly as he took another step back.
"You again?!" He exclaimed, staring at me in amazement for a moment before his features smoothed out. I looked at him in disturbed consternation before my own eyes widened slightly.
"You." I hissed, narrowing my eyes at him. He returned the stare coolly, his features suddenly blank.
"Can't you just leave me alone?" I snapped, letting my foot drop to the floor as I sat up on my bed, clicking the lights to full. We both squinted in the bright light, ducking our heads slightly. I winced; thinking that maybe full was a bit too much. Yet as my eyes adjusted I got my first good look at him.
He was even better looking in bright light than the slight light I got from my night-light. His eyes were a dark blue, set under thick black brows. He had thick, wavy hair that flopped over his eyes and grew to the back of his neck. He had good physique, but not overbearing. He looked regal as he looked down at me. Just like Spike had, as well as...Kran.
I was instantly wary, fully aware that most syndicate members had the same air, and he was even more under my suspicion, as he had been masquerading as a cab driver.
I leaned back against the wall next to my bed, scowling as I realized who this particular person was. He was the one Jet had been talking about, who had prohibited smoking. For that he instantly earned my damnation, and as to the fact that he was a male and looked like...those two...well, he wasn't going to get an easy time from me.
He cocked his head to the side slightly as he stared down at me, a wry grin slowly spreading across his face.
"I think we will make a good team, you and I." He said softly, his voice amused.
"Whatever," I sighed airily, hoping that my sudden nervousness wasn't being conveyed to him. I pushed myself off of my bed, still having to tilt my head up to look at him. This was another thing that wasn't in his favor.
"Will you go away so I can take a shower?" I asked tartly, covering sudden surprise with a scowl as I realized belatedly exactly whom he looked like.
"Just hurry up. We need to get moving. Bounty heads are more...susceptible in the morning." With that he grinned, bowed, and left.
I tried to stop from shaking as I stared after him, biting my lip. He looked like Stev Rawnst. And Stev had been an assassin. Consequently, from the people I'd once had as a second family. The people I'd betrayed. The people who had hunted me for so long.
*flashback*
Harsh breathing covered every other sound. It was night, and it was very, very dark. The exact sort of night the assassins loved. The curtains moved slightly in a breeze that chilled the already hostile seeming night. Shadows leapt from the corners and walls in a fair mimicry of killers, and the dark spots were large enough to cover someone crouching, waiting for the exact moment to strike...
I bolted upright; trembling with the nightmare that had been plaguing me ever since I'd left the only place I could call home in this hellhole of a galaxy. I tried to avoid looking at the shadows in my room as I turned over, thinking that I myself had been betrayed, in a way. I hadn't meant to bring my own debts down onto the syndicate, but some things were hard to avoid.
I trembled slightly as I thought of those I had once called friends now hunting me with merciless intent, their eyes now cold and hard towards me...
*end flashback*
I stared more thoughtfully at the door, convincing myself that he looked nothing like Stev. Stev had been shorter, for one thing, and after I'd covered my tracks so well, how could they find me? It had been stupid of me to get so worked up over nothing. I managed to get up, if somewhat shakily, knowing that no matter what I persuaded myself of, I would never truly be convinced that man wasn't Stev.
*
"All right. So I'll slip in first via the air ducts and then you'll come through the door and wake him up, and if he tries to bolt I'll come down like an action heroine and put him out with a knock out spray?" I summed up what my 'partner' had suggested, looking at him as I would an incredibly stupid maniac.
"Greg's idea isn't so bad..." Jet started, rubbing the back of his neck. I swung around to stare at him, eyebrows raised.
"Come again? Why not just sneak in, knock him out and take him to the police?" I suggested, derision curling my upper lip. The two men looked at each other, shrugged, and nodded.
"Sounds alright," Greg said in approval, looking over to Jet, "Your call."
"Yeah, I suppose it could work." Jet agreed, indifference making him look bored. "Just as long as you two bring in the W, it doesn't really matter how you do it. It shouldn't be that difficult of a job."
I rolled my eyes and loaded my gun, pity for myself welling up inside me. Of course it would be an easy job.
"I work with idiots." I muttered under my breath, glaring at them furtively.
"What?" Greg looked at me curiously; somehow managing to hide his gun utterly, although it took him a few fumbling tries to do it right.
"Nothing. We'd better get going before our opportunity is lost." I opened my eyes wide in guilelessness, which turned into a snort as Greg pulled out a small wooden statue, worn with time and with what looked like much abuse.
"I gotta kiss my tiki man for good luck first." He said earnestly, in all seriousness, and proceeded to do so. Somehow, all of my worries that he was Stev seemed to disappear.
*
"Alrighty then, so if it wasn't for some personal grudge, then why did you go in after the Red Dragons?" Greg asked me in a whining tone similar to that of a teenager. As he had been doing since we had left the Bebop.
"Shut. Up." I growled, quickening my pace by just a hair. The sooner we collected that oh-so-precious bounty head wouldn't be soon enough, especially if it meant staying in Greg's company for a minute longer. Cuteness got you only so far, and not as far as persistently asking questions that weren't any of your damn business. Needless to say I was quite ready to use him as target practice.
"You weren't apart of them, were you?" His voice had a hint of suspicion to it, and his tone carried that of a gossip's.
"Would you just shut up? Didn't Jet fill you in on why you're with us?" I hissed, turning around to scowl at him. He looked down at me for a minute, his eyes dark as he considered something. Abruptly a ghost of a smile flicked on his face for a bare moment, so quickly that I wasn't sure if I'd seen it, and then he was peppering me with questions again.
"No actually he didn't...I'm guessing this had something to do with the syndicate, right? Were you going in there planning to kill Vicious? Or were you going in after someone else? Or did you know someone was trying to kill Vicious and was trying to stop the-" Greg cut off suddenly as I took a step back and ground my heel into his shoe, my full weight behind it.
"Shut. The hell. Up." I whispered fiercely into his ear. I ground a little harder into his shoe out of my utter frustration with him, before striding forward as if nothing had happened.
I heard something akin to a whimper behind me, and then I was climbing up the motel's staircase, taking it two steps at a time.
"That...really wasn't.... necessary." Greg shouted up to me as he clattered up behind me. I turned slightly, regarding him with scorn, and snarled, "If you don't shut up everyone will wake up and then we won't get our bounty head."
Greg stared at me, his lips twitching, then, matching me tone for tone, he proceeded to imitate my voice as well, "Yeah, well, if you don't stop turning around to lecture me every few seconds then everyone is gonna wake up anyhow and then we won't get our bounty anyway."
My glare hardened as in my mind I prepared several ways of torturing him. Such as using him as an ornament on my Redtail, although since that might hurt it, I'd probably have to use Jet's ship...
I turned back and started jogging up the stairs, fury making me run faster, as if my subconscious was trying to punish Greg in some way. However, my body wasn't in compliance with my mind, as shortly after I started feeling the effort on my muscles. Before long I was starting to wheeze with the effort of it, my footfalls, once light, now were pounding the stairs in counterpoint to my breathing. Greg, the ass, was running lightly behind me, pressing at my heels in an almost-attempt at passing me. I looked further up the damnable staircase and thought that I saw the end. A really far length off.
Next up to damn was the fact that I had let myself get soft since that time when I was hunted. Gambling and then the Bebop had kept my mind running but lessened the time I would normally spend exercising and keeping my body in top working order. The result was being shown up by a pompous pig who'd brought up bad memories.
No. A part of me spoke up. That would be my immense pride. I took the pain and pushed myself to go faster. Yeah, about a snail's crawl faster.
Finally, the landing was beneath my feet, and I just barely managed to stay standing, if slightly bent over. And gagging because I was trying to slow my breathing. Greg strode past me with the grace of a panther, a knowing smirk on his face as he eyed me, one of his eyebrows raised in an unspoken question. His eyes were the part that I felt like scratching out, as triumph ruled supreme in them.
I thought I heard him chuckle, and the urge to deck him was strong enough to heat my blood in a deep rage. Only, I was so winded I couldn't even straiten up all the way. I don't think I'd been in this bad of shape since I'd gotten out of cryo.
"Room 420, right?" I panted, just to distract him from the point that he was in much better shape than I was.
"Yeah," he turned to stare at me, "You outta shape or something?" He taunted, his lips forming a grin that was too much to bear.
"Shut up." I grunted, half-heartedly swatting at his head. He just chuckled and gestured for me to continue on. I shook my head at him but moved down the doors, looking for room 420. My heartbeat quickened almost imperceptibly, not with too much exertion, but rather excitement. It had been awhile since I had been on a hunt, and I was looking forward to this one, although it probably wouldn't be as exciting as most. I prowled along the doors, or rather, attempted to prowl, as I was still winded from the jog up the stairs.
"How much is this bounty worth again?" I whined at Greg, when I had found the door.
"9 thousand W." He answered, grinning at me from opposite the door. He then knelt so he was on a level with the lock, and brought out a few tools to open it with. He glowed with satisfaction as the lock snicked open.
"Where'd you learn how to do this shit, anyhow?" I asked curiously as he moved to the slide lock. He took quite awhile on this one, and I thought I heard him mutter a few curses as he struggled with it.
"Ah, there we go," he murmured to himself as he miraculously opened the slide lock. He turned to me and nodded to the open door. "These little tricks? I learned them a while back, doing odd jobs wherever I could find them."
"And one of them involved picking locks," I snorted in a flat voice, more a statement than a question.
"After you," he gestured for me to precede him into the room, neatly sidestepping my question. Even for a man, he was extraordinarily aggravating. I rolled my eyes, but otherwise stepped into the room ahead of him, gun up.
The sight immediately appalled me. While I'm not the model of cleanliness, this guy would've made any slob look neat. Piles of clothing lay scattered on the floor, with what looked like stains adorning them in the half-light. Trash was liberally thrown about, in amongst the clothing, some half-empty food cartons spilling onto the floor. Or rather, the clothing that covered the floor. From where I stood, it appeared the trashcan was only half full.
I shook my head in disgust and wrinkled my nose as an unappealing odor wafted up to me, made up of dirty clothing and old food. I stepped carefully and as silently as possible through the litter, almost dancing in my urge to step around as much of the refuse as possible.
"Ugh. This is disgusting," I muttered as we neared the bed, mostly clean in comparison to the floor. At least there wasn't any food on it.
"Alright Greg, knock him unconscious." I stopped short of the bed, looking around the room in horrified fascination. Greg sighed and muttered to himself something about ditz-headed females. I glared at him, but as usual, he wasn't looking. Even if he had been, he wouldn't have cared.
"Is it even possible to knock a sleeping person unconscious?" He eyed the man, bringing the heel of the gun down on the man's head.
I looked around once more, something about the mess bothering me. It seemed almost if drawers had been torn open instead of casually left hanging. Like the trashcans had been spilled out onto the floor.
"It looks like someone else was already here." I mused, voicing my thought aloud, turning to stare down at the man who was supposedly the cause of the mess.
And I realized he wasn't the bounty head. I heard a click behind me, very loud next to my rapidly beating heart.
"That's because they already were." Rang a cold voice behind us, and I turned around slowly, Greg following suit with a dangerous glint in his eyes.
"Drop your weapons and kick them over slowly." The man I recognized as the bounty head ordered, keeping his gun leveled at us.
I looked over to Greg, who was obeying the bounty head with a slow sullenness and a twist to his mouth that betrayed his anger at having become the quarry. My mind still screaming at me to do something to get out of the situation, I reluctantly followed Greg's action.
It was almost unreal, with the way this had happened. Just a little while ago I had been enraged at Greg, ready to deck him and hurt him in any way possible. Now he was my only ally in a situation that only spoke of defeat. I lowered my eyes to where my gun was and wondered how Jet would find out we'd been killed.
So much for this being an easy job.
SEE YOU LATER, COWGIRL
HOPEFULLY.
A/N: Okay, first I would like to apologize for how long it's been since the last chapter. Yes, I deserve to be yelled at or whatever, I know. I won't give you pointless excuses, but I will say that since school has started you might be seeing some chronic lateness. It can't be avoided. That and lately, I have not been in a typing mood...I'll probably get someone to do it for me...*sigh* Sooo...I hope you at least enjoyed the chapter...and I hope it was a decent cliffhanger. That, and does it seem like Faye and Jet are exhibiting unusual amounts of OOCness? Maybe it's cuz I wrote it or whatever, but it seems strange to me...
Oh well, I'm ranting again (go figure). Once again, I'm sorry. R&R please, and have a good week...hopefully I'll update soon.
Luv ya'll who've reviewed so far! (I check it every time i get on ff.net, and i check my e-mail pretty regularily, so don't worry, it is getting read and appreciated!)
|Treekat|~*
Oh, and as a side note, Tiki men rule!!!