Author's Notes: To make up for you all having to wait so long for the third installment I'm sticking the fourth in here now. There are some things that aren't really cleared up in this session and some things that are and for the most part it's supposed to be like that. The chapter after this might be a while in coming but I'll try to write it up as quick as I can because there are so many others waiting in line behind it that are mostly done or just begging for my attention. It's hard to write when different chapters of the same story are competing for your attention, lol. Okay, 3, 2, 1 …let's jam!
Session XXIX: Of Milk, Cookies, and Monsters Under the Bed
"Spike, either wake up or go back to bed." Faye ordered, watching with raised brows and a sleepy smirk as Spike tipped the carton of milk into a fully upright position before glaring at her over his shoulder, his bleary gaze bizarrely comical to one Faye Valentine as she shook her head slowly in wonderment and sighed. "Your choice but whichever you choose, stop pouring the milk onto the cookies."
Looking both agitated and puzzled, Spike looked back to the table where two chocolate chip cookies were drowning in a puddle of milk. "Huh?" Spike muttered. "I thought …where'd the glass go?"
Faye laughed softly. "It's probably still in the kitchen, I'll get a towel while I'm getting my own midnight snack." She emerged from the kitchen moments later, slightly surprised to find that Spike was still awake …sort of. She mopped up the mess he had made and took a bite of her own cookie as he scooped one soggy cookie into his mouth eagerly. "What are you doing up so late, er …early?" She asked after the silence between them had stretched too long.
Spike's sleep-addled brain was apparently reawakened after the cookie and he met her inquiring gaze evenly, his tired eyes thoughtful. "Had a nightmare, woke up hungry. You owe me an orange."
For a moment, she was perplexed. "An orange? What are you …oh wait, yeah, never mind, I remember. Hey, you know what they say about finders and keepers after all."
"Jet left that there for me." He replied crankily. He was still partially bandaged from his showdown with Vicious, and as he reached for the second swamped cookie, she saw that the katana wound was still causing him some pain, most likely due to stiffness from lack of movement or too much movement. The latter seemed more probable in his case.
"How about this …I'll buy you an orange if you give me on the next bounty, my share plus a part of your share that will cover the repairs to my ship Jet made."
He snorted. "What for? You busted it up on your own."
"I was watching your back, lunkhead. If the syndicate hadn't tracked you down, I wouldn't have needed to risk my own neck keeping the Bebop in one piece."
"If the syndicate hadn't tracked me down? You were the one with Julia when the syndicate tried to gun her down, if anything it was you they followed. He paused and blinked. "Besides that, we've had this argument before! If I should pay you anything, it would be for picking me up from the syndicate building before the low-level brats riddled my body full of bullets."
Faye started to make a smart reply when she faltered, remembering why she had originally followed him into the den room of the ship, and once she realized that the last thing he said wasn't exactly an insult. Arguing with him was not a part of her nighttime agenda anyway, but finding out why he was practically sleepwalking through the ship was. "Tell me about your nightmare." She requested suddenly as he was in the midst of guzzling milk straight from the carton. He glanced at her sharply and automatically started to say something, succeeding in getting a great deal of milk up his nose. Faye laughed at his expense as he coughed and gagged, fumbling for the soggy towel. "Hah, serves you right for drinking straight from the carton. My daddy used to do that when I was little and when he thought mommy wasn't looking. He'd slip me spoonfuls of cookie dough too …" She trailed off wistfully and looked up at Spike who was staring at her in a disconcerting manner. "What?!"
Spike's mouth opened, however no coherent sound emerged and a moment later he shut it, satisfying himself with merely watching her. Faye's eyes narrowed as she scowled at him, feeling a strange kinship to lab rats under nearly constant supervision while being tested. She remembered seeing a documentary on that once with her mother and she hadn't been able to sleep well for a week afterward, her heart going out to the poor small creatures at the mercy of the frightening men in lab coats. Ever since then, the monsters hiding in her closet and beneath her bed had taken on the form of scientists and nothing her parents had done could dissuade her of the opinion that men in lab coats were evil, cruel people. Her emerald eyes widened as she gasped aloud, shivering despite the warmth of the ship.
She knew that Spike was watching her still, concerned, as she fell back limply on the chair, breath coming in small, choking gasps as she struggled to make sense of what was happening to her. Memories had come back to her before, usually faded things that were gone again before she could grasp it fully, before she could turn it about in her mind like a puzzle, answering the right questions and rotating the correct number of degrees before unlocking the faint, muddled prize at the heart of the contraption. Memories were a great deal like a game, trying to find how to solve the riddles or trying to piece together the clues to get the full picture, the heart and truth of the matter.
Now she was having to fight to breath, Spike at her side as though he'd been there the whole time, wide-awake and worried as he watched her strain to keep conscious, unsure of what to do with himself to ease her labored breathing as she started to cry hard racking sobs that stole away the little breath she had. Thoroughly concerned now, Spike pulled her close to himself in an awkward hug that gave her strength. Stranded alone within the jumble of conflicting thoughts and memories assaulting her, she felt him take her into his embrace and latched on to the life-saving line he had tossed her, using the worry and honest care that he was radiating to draw her back to the present, using it to fill her lungs with beautiful, sweet air and using it to cling to him like a child newly woken from a bad dream.
The fact that she was openly weeping in his arms horrified her, though he wasn't trying to push her away and he didn't seem as if he wanted her to leave anytime soon. She tried to stop crying but only succeeded in sobbing all the harder and she was no longer even sure why she was crying. She was a strong, proud, independent woman …she didn't need a man to hold her close and to comfort her, she didn't need to be guarded like some precious jewel or possessed by a man jealous of all other living male creatures, she of course was thrilled when someone gave her respect or allowed her indulgences to be sated but she didn't need to be pampered either. She wasn't some frail, delicate creature to be put on a pedestal and worshipped from afar and she certainly shouldn't be made so weak, so vulnerable by a simple memory. A memory! Gods, she was pitiful, pathetic …a memory! All they ever brought back was pain and guilt, and she was plenty miserable enough in her current life – most times – to be cursed to suffer the pains of a life she could no longer recall except in snatches and foggy dreams.
Gradually, her sobs were slacking, her breath coming much easier as she fought against the talons of sleep that were threatening to bear her away. Crying had always drained her and she was so exhausted already …it would be so nice to just close her eyes, safe and warm in Spike Spiegel's arms, the memories already being buried once more in her mind, she herself safe until the next one was triggered and brought to the fore of her mind. She was vaguely aware of Spike talking to her in calm, soothing tones underlined with the fear-edged worry that was still first and foremost in his own mind. She was sinking away, the talons finding their grip and carrying her away on a warm draft of wind and slowly her eyes were fluttering close as she whispered softly, "G'night mommy, g'night daddy …" And then she was soaring on the wings of an albatross into rich, restful slumber that was blessedly free of both dreams and memories.
* * *
Spike's gaze met Jet's across the den room as he held the sobbing young woman in his arms tightly, almost possessively. Jet opened his mouth as if to ask what had happened when Spike cut off his unvoiced comments with a curt shake of his head. The confused older man stifled a yawn as Ed wandered into the room, rubbing weary eyes and blinking owlishly, her mop of bright red hair in even more of disarray than usual. Speaking in low, quiet tones, Jet led the girl from the room, sparing Spike and Faye one more curious and fretful look before exiting completely.
Faye was murmuring to herself, tears still flowing freely as she clutched him close, trembling like a leaf in his hold even as the tears slowed and eventually trickled to a stop. Spike, fully awake, saw Faye struggling against the lull of sleep and knowing that it would do her more good if she slept now swallowed past his apprehension and began to sing to her a peaceful lullaby that he had heard once, long ago, in his childhood.
"Golden slumbers kiss you eyes,
Smiles awake when you rise,
Sleep, pretty loved one,
Do not cry,
And I will sing a lullaby,
Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby,
Care is heavy, therefore sleep,
You are care and care must keep,
Sleep, pretty loved one,
Do not cry,
And I will sing a lullaby,
Lullaby, lullaby, lullaby …"
He smiled thankfully as Faye quieted, whimpering softly as her eyes drifted shut and she relaxed in his arms. He continued to hum the melody of the lullaby as he sat there, half-turned and leaning against the chair and with Faye in what had to be an uncomfortable position still holding to him in her sleep. 'I can't sit like this and she can't sleep like this …dammit, I'm going to have to move her somewhere …she'd better not wake up…' He thought to himself as he rose carefully and lifted Faye into his arms, cradling her gently. 'She's like a child all over again …mommy and daddy, sheesh, wish I could wake up someday from this dream and have my mommy holding me close.' He groaned softly at his own thoughts. 'Geez, woman has me missing my own childhood.' He looked around, reorienting himself with the lay of the ship and paused. 'Faye's room is down that way, mine is closer though,' Rolling his eyes and chuckling, he started down towards his cabin, kicking the door when he reached it rather than juggling with Faye in his arms to key the entry pad and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of his room before making his way to the bed and settling Faye in as tenderly as he could. The dozing woman made a few sleepy comments that were too soft for his ears to catch and shivered as he pulled up the cool sheets and blanket around her. A light frown creased her smooth brow and she mumbled something, possibly the name of a stuffed animal.
"Oh man, this is just outrageous …where am I supposed to find a stuffed toy for her to sleep with?" He considered hunting down Ein for a moment and then rejected the idea. Neither dog nor woman would be pleased in the morning if they awoke to each other, and no matter how humorous Spike knew he would find it, he didn't really feel like bothering Faye like that. The incident in the den room was still fresh in his mind and his heart was still beating a pace faster than normal. Faye had looked so completely lost and terrified, and she hadn't really been able to breath either …he fought off a sudden chill that wrapped itself about him and closed his eyes briefly.
"Poor girl, I never knew the memories returning brought on fits …or was it just my presence? She didn't even seem to know when she was talking about her parents …strange. It's like she's two different people, both a little girl alone in this world and Miss Complainer, still by herself. Maybe I should ease up on her awhile …but first there's the matter of the stuffed animal to deal with." He watched her a moment longer and then stood and pulled his jacket on and donned his shoes, feeling a mite bit foolish in sweat pants, a white tee-shirt and his suit jacket but realizing that no one would be awake to care at this hour. "I suppose I could head down to the casino hotel, they've got to have a gift shop for the kiddies and to dip into the pockets of the tourists after all."
He nodded to himself and put his hands into his pockets, sparing Faye one last glance as he reached the door and keyed it closed before whistling the lullaby and heading to the hanger of the Bebop for a little late night excursion in the name of friendship.
* * *
The night air was cold outside the ship, but not too cold, just chilly enough for the stars to seem frozen in the sky above, his breath steaming as it hit the cooler air outside his body. "Might as well get some more smokes while I'm out and about …Jet will probably need some groceries …" He paused and smirked. "I think I'll get some beef, then he'll have no excuse for feeding us only the damn bell peppers." His gaze went automatically to the sky as he walked along the dock leading to the small, sleeping town, and further down the road the bustling casino district. "Star light, star bright …where is my guardian star this night?" He questioned of no one in particular as his gaze roved across the crystalline heavens, passing over the familiar but common diamonds against the velvet tapestry before one star in particular called out for his attention and he smiled. "Ah, there you are …is it lonely in the sky without my first star of life? You'll die out someday too, just like the other one …and then where will I be? Gone, gone away for good …this cool cat will be chasing mice bounties and snoozing on the couches of heaven then." He laughed at himself then. "Well, all right, maybe not heaven."
The roar of ship engines filled the air, shattering the silence that had reigned previously despite Spike's casual rambling and soon the noise of weapon's fire joined that, bullets spitting up earth as they impacted around Spike, one grazing the sleeve of his jacket. Spike made a 'huh' noise and tilted his head backwards to watch the unmarked and black painted ship zoom by, still walking without any outward appearance of regard to his life, which was currently in jeopardy by the ship that was now swinging around on a return, machine guns thrumming in readiness to try picking him off again. Spike frowned, wondered what the hell he had done now and dove for the ground, flattening himself out as the bullets passed harmlessly over his head.
Dropping the laid-back no care attitude Spike shot back to his feet and pulled out his own weapon, a Jericho 941, and gave the terrain a quick look over before sighing. Trust someone with a grudge towards him to come after him around two in the morning in an area with no places to run to for cover except possibly back to the ship or towards the town, but both were equal distances too far for him to dash to without being ripped apart by the guns on the ship.
"Can't a guy do anything nice for his shipmates without being shot at?" Spike shouted as the ship turned again to come back for another pass. Growling under his breath, Spike raised his gun and fired off a round, succeeding in hitting one of the fuel tanks. "Oh shit …this isn't gonna be pretty." He muttered, reloading. Taking careful aim, he locked onto the bubble dome over the cockpit and fired three times. A pained cry filled the air and the ship shook a bit as the pilot apparently lost control, but soon it was back on course. Thoroughly enraged now the pilot pushed the ship down closer, presumably deciding that the risk of being shot was worth killing or at least seriously wounding Spike. The bullets tore into the ground around the angered bounty hunter, one finally hitting target and spinning him around quickly as it ripped through his right shoulder, just above his lung. Sucking in a quick breath, Spike leapt onto the nose of the sleek black vessel as it began to fly higher to come at him again.
Obviously surprised by this action, the pilot banked the ship back and forth in effort to knock Spike from the ship, but the injured cowboy merely gritted his teeth and held on tighter, crawling towards the main body of the ship where his opponent was. "Man, this guy is really starting to piss me off." He grumbled as he peered into the cockpit through the dark-colored bubble dome, using one of the bullet holes from his own counterattack as an eyehole. "Bingo." He put the business end of his gun to one hole and squinted, trying to see through the shadowed dome in order to fire a killing shot. Realizing it was useless to pinpoint the pilot's position, he shrugged to himself and fired.
The ship gave a shudder and started to sway sickly in the air as Spike grinned to himself. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have a winner." Suddenly, the ship spun upside down, tipping the hapless Spike from the vessel and dropping him down to the ground some distance below. "Aw, dammit!" He cursed, flailing awkwardly as he plummeted to the earth. Before hitting he was rewarded by watching the ship crash in a blaze of flame and fuel, and then everything went black.
* * *
Jet Black rolled over in his bed and heaved a sigh as he opened his eyes and stared up at his ceiling. A moment later, he was rooting through his drawers for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, the flame casting a dim light into the room and catching against the papered tip of the cigarette, the burning ember flaring as he inhaled deeply. "Who needs sleep anyways?" He asked his dark room, sitting up against the wall, arms crossed over his stomach with the cigarette hanging from his mouth. After another moment of restful quiet and listening to the ship's nighttime noises, Jet realized that he wouldn't be getting any more sleep in the near future and, grouching to himself, began to change out of his night clothes.
"Too early for any sane person to be up," He muttered, flicking the ash from his cigarette into the clay ashtray resembling a smiley face Ed had made for him. "Spike's probably awake right now, damn fool never sleeps at night, always dozing during the day and hoping everything will be taken care of by someone else while Faye gambles away all our money and complains when we don't have enough to eat." Worry had manifested in his mind though when he had seen Faye bawling in Spike's arm an hour or so ago. Even though he had only been half awake then, he'd still been alert enough to know that something wasn't right and now the feeling was eating away at him inside.
Jet glanced into the den room, half expecting to see both of them still in there, passed out, but no one was there and so he went down to Spike's room to see if the lazy bum was awake. His eyes widened and the cigarette nearly dropped from his mouth as he saw Faye sprawled out on Spike's bed, tossing and turning fitfully, seeming to be reaching out for something. She was speaking in half-phrases, calling out names, crying softly. Like a child. "Mommy …mommy, I want my teddy …mommy …daddy …Mr. Pooh Bear is missing …mommy!"
Moaning softly, Jet went into the room and looked around quickly, spying Spike's bloodied and holey trench coat draped over a chair. The said article of clothing had been washed several times over, and worn twice that Jet knew of, gathering more blood stains and holes each time, and for some reason Spike still wouldn't get rid of it. Jet snorted as he balled the trench coat up in the vague shape of a teddy bear before setting it gently into Faye's arms. Her face lit up even in sleep and she sighed happily, clutching the trench coat close. "Mr. Pooh Bear …" And within moments she was deeply asleep again.
"Well," Jet said quietly to himself. "Since she's in here, maybe he's in there." But Spike wasn't in Faye's room either and by now the worry that had been for Faye was for Spike, a writhing thing that made his stomach tighten. "Oh great, where has that lunkhead gotten himself off to now?"
A sleepy voice murmured, "Lunkhead, lunkhead," Followed by tired giggles and Jet looked up warily, not entirely surprised to see Edward draped across the pipes in the corridor and apparently still mostly asleep. "Lunkhead went to the casino." Ed yawned in her sleep and flopped to her other side, giving Jet a scare. "Spike-person went to …went to get a gift shop …shop shop for Bebop Bebop!" She giggled again and started to snore softly.
Jet watched her twist around on the pipes before getting comfortable again and wondered how she could sleep while balanced so precariously above the floor like she was before deciding that it didn't matter. Making his way back to the den room Jet put out his cigarette in another of the ashtrays stashed around the ship, some like the one in his room made by Ed at one point or another, and took out another cigarette.
"Spike's at the casino buying a gift shop?" He shook his head. "That can't be right …let's see …a casino and a gift shop …what on earth could he be buying at this hour of the morning?" Thinking hard, something else occurred to him and he straightened up, his face a thundercloud. "And with what money?!"
* * *
Spike awoke shortly thereafter, but he didn't rise right away. "Who was that guy anyway?" He questioned, taking a mental tally of his injuries. Gunshot wound to the right shoulder, possible cracked rib from that jarring fall, some residual pain from the katana wound but that was old news. Yep, that was pretty much it. Sitting up slowly, he looked to the ship, which was burning away and leaving the smell of burnt flesh and electrical wires shorted out. Wrinkling his nose, Spike clambered to his feet and rolled his shoulders, taking a few experimental breaths in and out before deciding that his ribs were fine and that the bullet hadn't damaged anything terribly vital. "If it wasn't for modern technology, I'd be a mess of scars right now." He mused as he started towards the far off and brightly lit casino district. "I wish I'd brought my ship."
Of course, the noise from opening the hanger door and taking off would have roused someone on the ship, and that wasn't part of what he wanted to do, and besides that, he normally liked walking alone at night, watching the stars and thinking to himself. "I can probably make it there, buy the stuffed animal and the beef, pick up something for Ed and be back before dawn and, hopefully, before Faye wakes up. As long as I don't run in to any more trouble like that." He pursed his lips thoughtfully. "There'd better not be a bounty on my head or anything. Not like I'd know though what with Big Shot cancelled and all."
The ship exploded behind him, fragments of the hull showering the ground to his sides and some even landing ahead of him as he walked along, once again the spitting image of nonchalance. He soon became lost in his thoughts, curious ponderings of why someone had tried to gun him down and worried questions he posed to himself about why Faye was having troubles. In fact, he was so caught up in his thoughts that he barely noticed when he'd entered the casino area of the city until a pizza delivery kid on a bicycle almost mowed him down.
It was the strong, distinct odor of anchovies and pineapple on the pizza that brought his mind back to the present and he stopped to pinpoint his position, overly bright neon signs flashing in each direction he turned, crowded noise in the air and the familiar pulse of organized theft emanating from the loud buildings surrounding him on all sides where people were winning chump change and loosing a whole ton of big bucks.
"Hmm, provocative sign," He mused, watching as a nearly naked neon woman became illuminated in blinding flashes. "Reminds me of the chick from Big Shots. Oh, what a nice touch, they even have her wiggling her accessories." After deciding that he'd be able to find what he had come for in just about every building in a ten-block radius from where he currently stood, Spike closed his eyes and spun himself around carefully, not eager to reopen any healing wounds. Once he stopped, he did a quick eenie-meenie-minnie-moe with the four casino hotels on that side of the street and walked into one.
Smoke hung in the air and he imagined that the cloud couldn't have been any thicker or deadlier if it was from a nuclear warhead exploding. "Ah, home. Er, well …Faye's second home at any rate." He walked around for a time, resisting the urge to sit down at any of the tables and found himself standing in front of a store with large stuffed animals on shelves inside the glass outer walls. "Bingo." Only after he had entered and started to browse through the selection the gift shop had to offer did he realize that he didn't know what sort of stuffed toy Faye would want or had had in her childhood. Damn, obviously time for a second opinion. Standing behind the counter was a blond woman who looked surprisingly familiar and Spike racked his brain for a moment before her name came to mind. "Muriel? Weren't you working at Mac's Diner the last I saw?"
The girl giggled. "Oh no, I'm not Muriel, I'm Mabel, Muriel's twin sister." She smiled at him brightly. "What would you like assistance with, sir? Oh my! That must hurt! Can I bandage that for you?"
"Huh? Bandage what?" Spike asked. The girl, Mabel, leaned over the counter and poked his right shoulder lightly. "Oh, that. Yeah, sure, it'd be a great help. Wouldn't want to pass out from loss of blood on my way back to my ship."
Mabel nodded seriously. "One moment please," And she disappeared behind the counter. There was a rummaging of items and Spike palmed a few trinkets he thought Ed would like while waiting for Mabel to finish. She popped back up a minute or so later with a spray bottle of disinfectant, two patches of gauze and a roll of bandages, wearing Muriel's trademark smile. They really were twins, in everything except the name.
"Here we go! Off with your jacket and shirt, Mister …"
"Spike, my name is Spike." She nodded again and went to work as soon as he had tugged his tee shirt over his head. "You're a lot more gentle than my normal nursemaid …I think he just likes seeing me suffer for acting rashly so often."
"Oh my! What a mean person!" Mabel exclaimed as she started to bind his injury.
Spike laughed. "Naw, not really, it's just his way of dealing with things, showing he cares. He's like that to all of us on the ship, like a mom and dad rolled into one. Guess I'm pretty thankful for that, otherwise we'd always be broke and starving." 'Wait a minute …we always are broke and starving!' "He keeps us somewhat under control. Not that we ever really listen to him but …" He trailed off as she giggled, once again sounding the same as Muriel.
"There we go, all done!" She announced after another minute. "Now, what did you come in here to purchase, Mister Spike?"
His response was slightly muffled as he worked his shirt on again, but apparently she understood. "I need a stuffed animal …something for a girl to sleep with, like a comforting thing to hug after waking up from a nightmare. Something plush I guess, but not in outlandish colors."
She put a finger to her chin as she thought, pretty blue eyes roving over the shelves. "How about …no …what if …no, that'll never do …hmm …" She tilted her head a bit to the side and thought a moment longer. "What sort of animal does she like?"
Spike chuckled. "Forget dogs, and leave cats out too. Maybe something ordinary …what kinds of stuffed toys did kids have back before the Gate Incident?"
"Ah, I know the perfect thing!" She smiled and vanished through the small door leading into the back room of the gift shop and returned a moment later with a huggable sized toy bear. "This is the Winnie-the-Pooh toy, a classic gift and a cherished child's item. It was a popular children's show way in the past, this bear and other animals like a tiger, a kangaroo, an owl, a pig …that sort of thing. All the rage, I suppose. Nobody seems to want the dear anymore."
"This'll be perfect, thank you." He looked to the price tag and pulled out his cash card, still retaining some of the money from the last bounty they had brought in. "Oh, hey, do you know where I can find a grocery store open at this hour? I need some beef …"
* * *
"That lunkhead, nothing but trouble …" Jet grumbled to himself as he paced the length of the floor in the recreation/den room. "Taking off in the middle of the night without bothering to let anyone know where he's going or when he'll be back. Like a second Faye, dammit …but then there's that trust factor. I can trust him to get into trouble, no matter what hour of the day or which planet he might be on. Good karma, he says, bad luck how about? Damn lunkhead."
There came a whining from the floor and Jet glanced down in irritation to see Ein looking up at him with puppy-dog eyes. "What do you want? Come to wait up with me for our wayward friend to waltz in here before dawn like some juvenile teen hoping to sneak in before his parents are awake?" He shook his head then and stooped to rub the dog's head. "Sorry about that, Ein. Sometimes, well, sometimes I just don't know what goes on inside their heads. It's like they feel that they can just come and go as they please, always expecting me to have food on the table, a bed for them to sleep in, and to be on call to fix up their ships every time they smash them up. Well hell, this isn't a repair ship and this isn't a bed-and-breakfast." He groused some more beneath his breath before heaving a sigh and sitting down on the couch. "All that pacing makes my leg hurt. Doc did a good job getting the bullet out but it still bothers me sometimes."
Ein whimpered in understanding and jumped up onto the couch, resting his muzzle on Jet's leg. The grizzled bounty hunter stretched out on the couch and let his head rest against the back of it, staring up at the ceiling to see if he could find what about it held Spike's interest. Spike was something else entirely. Some bounties wouldn't get more out of him than a disinterested grunt while he could spend all day just boring a hole into the ceiling. There were times when Jet really wanted to know all about his partner's past, just to know where the other was coming from sometimes, and other times when he wished he didn't know anything at all. It was one of the unofficial rules of the Bebop though that one didn't simply butt into someone else's life with prying questions about one's background. It wasn't really polite and more often than not, it brought a lot of people into trouble that they could have steered clear of. Yes, in one word that was precisely what Spike Spiegel was: trouble.
Unbidden, the image of the young Faye from the videos rose in his mind, all smiley and giggly as she called out. "Give me a T! Give me an R! Give me an O! Give me a U! Give me a B, L, E! What's that spell? Spike Spiegel!"
"Even weirder," Jet mused, "That actually rhymed and made sense."
Ein gave him a baffled look and Jet chuckled. The dog was more human than Edward a whole lot of the time, but then again that was Ed's charm, and Ein's as well. Take one data-dog with human tendencies and put it with a genius hacker known to bite and bark and you've almost got a person. A really messed up person, but one nonetheless. Though the Bebop had acquired Ein as a crewmember before Ed, Jet could no longer think of one without the other coming to mind as well. They had really bonded and, though he knew he'd regret this before too long, Jet had to acknowledge that he'd missed the rambunctious girl and the comforting mutt.
The sun was still some time off from rising but predawn light had already begun to glow on the horizon when footsteps became audible from the direction of the main access hatch of the ship and Ein made as if to yip a welcome when his ears flattened down guiltily and the dog glanced towards where Ed and Faye were still sleeping.
"You're one considerate mutt." Jet declared.
"Yo."
Jet glanced idly at his partner, noticing the paper bag he held with his left arm and a dark stain on the other shoulder of his navy jacket. "Nice of you to wander off like that. How'd you come by the bloodstain?"
Spike rummaged through the paper bag and produced an object that made Ein whimper softly and eagerly for and tossed the thing to Jet, revealing itself to be a slab of beef wrapped in cellophane. "No more excuses."
"We're out of bell peppers."
"They aren't required for a meal to be edible." Spike replied, walking down the stairs and through the den, heading in the direction of his room and where Ed was probably still draped across the ceiling pipes. "Some nondescript yahoo tried to shoot me up on my way into town. Cute kid named Mabel patched me up. You should work a bit on your nursing skills, she could teach you a thing or two."
"What'd you do to earn this bozo's wrath?"
"Nothing I can think of. Doesn't matter though, he's dead now."
Jet was curious. "What else is in the bag?"
"What, you think I went shopping for just you?" Spike asked, a wry smile curling his lips. "Cigarettes, some finger paint and play-doh for Ed, a milk bone for either Ein or the bitch dog we've got, and a teddy for her too." He disappeared down the hallway, a pale bone-shaped object flying out of the shadows that Ein caught with a hop.
"Trouble with a heart." Jet muttered to himself, moving to put the meat in the fridge in the kitchen. "The very worst and best kind."
* * *
She was making soft noises in her sleep and he noticed his battered and beaten duster on the floor near the bed, crumpled into a vaguely oblong shape. His eyebrows rose in silent inquiry as he stepped quietly over to the bedside and tucked the teddy bear into her arms. He hadn't expected the presence of the toy to miraculous set her in a peaceful dreamland where she could sleep with ease but the distress dissolved from her features and a small smile crept onto her lips.
He slipped out of the room again, glancing towards the common room and wondering whether Jet had gone back to his own quarters. A generous term, he supposed, glancing back towards his own. In fact, he normally didn't sleep in there at all but rather on the obnoxious yellow couch in the main area. Some nights however required a certain guarantee of privacy and so since he'd eluded death's grasp after the showdown with Vicious he had pretty much moved back into his room. It wouldn't do to have people walk in on you when you're brooding in a vulnerable state and that was sure to happen if he'd stayed out in the rec./den room.
A snore caught his attention and he glanced up to find Edward lying precariously balanced across the pipes that ran along the ceiling down the hall. Planting his feet against one side of the hall and his back against the other he shifted and climbed until he was able to reach out and take Ed into his arms and then he pulled his legs away from the other wall, allowing himself to drop to the ground and landed on his feet. Ed didn't stir from her sleep though the recent bullet wound protested loudly the scraping and bumping of his back along the wall.
He stood there for a moment, his right arm giving off faint warnings of sapping strength, and realized that Ed didn't have a specific room. She was just there on the ship, ate in the common room with the rest of them and slept wherever she was at whenever she needed to sleep. Shrugging mentally, Spike carried the young girl down to Faye's room and settled her into the shrew's bed. He contemplated retrieving the paper bag with Ed's little gifts from where he had set it in his room but decided he'd feel too much like that fat guy from the stories if he went that far.
Jet was lying across the couch in the rec./den room, Ein sleeping on the chair across from the couch, and Spike sighed to himself. Looked like a night of musical beds, he mused, scuttling down to Jet's room and dropping like a sack of rocks onto the other man's bed. He absently pulled the comforter up about himself and gave a slight start. Were these sheets satin?
* * *
Jet was setting out the ingredients for rice cakes and porridge when he heard it. A soft, broken noise nearly made inaudible by the slam of a fist to metal a heartbeat later. It wasn't any of his business and he didn't intend to make it such, breakfast was top priority and he set himself on that task with renewed vigor. Faye without breakfast was like Spike without a cigarette – bottled up frustrated rage with a short fuse that was smoldering and just begging for someone to blow new life onto it. In other words, not something he generally liked to deal with.
It was a futile thing, however, much like his effort to go back to clipping his bonsai when Faye had called on the intercom the first time Spike had gone after Vicious since joining Jet over three years ago. With a sigh, he slipped out of the kitchen and went to the entrance of the bridge of the vessel, seeing through the haze of cigarette smoke the hunched over form of Spike at one of the seats, shoulders shaking and his breathing harsh, though his face was dry. He cried quietly, eyes clenched shut and hands fisted on his legs, never shedding a tear.
Feeling a shiver crawl down his spine, Jet silently returned to the kitchen, mind already on the water boiling for the porridge and wondering idly whether they had any berry syrup to pour over the rice cakes. Jet repressed another sigh. He knew now what had been making the noises he sometimes heard when he woke up at odd hours and he wished more than ever that it had been Faye crying. That he could deal with, that he had dealt with before …but Spike?
The lanky cowboy showed up when Jet called out that breakfast was ready, sliding in a minute or so after Edward had barreled into the room, Ein yipping at her heels, and since finishing his meal Spike had disappeared, to the little room off from the hanger to clean his guns, Jet thought. Faye hadn't come out for the morning meal and when he checked her room it was empty. He'd been about to track down Ed and Spike to see if they knew of her whereabouts when he remembered that she had slept in Spike's room that night.
He had his hand poised to knock, was rethinking what he was doing and about to leave again, when Faye's voice issued forth from within the quarters.
"Are you going to stand there all day or what, Jet?"
Frowning and mumbling to himself, Jet keyed the door open and walked in a ways. "You missed breakfast."
"My stomach already told me that."
Nodding absently, Jet began to leave when she called out again. "Wait."
"Make it snappy, I've got things to do." There was always something to do on the ship, fixing their ships, fixing the shower, fixing up meals, trimming his bonsai, none of it was terribly pressing though and they both knew that he had no where else to be at the moment.
"I …need some advice …I think."
He crossed his arms over his chest and changed his stance a bit. "What?"
Faye rolled her eyes. "You heard me. And if you're any bit as smart as you like to think you are …well …then you already know what's on my mind."
"Spike."
"He's in pain." His mind flashed back to seeing the bounty hunter on the bridge earlier at her words.
"So?" Jet asked. "Get him drunk."
"Doesn't work for him like it does for me, he's already numb. We've got to get him to feel."
He chuckled humorlessly. "Good luck then, Faye. That kid only feels when he wants to." He paused. "If you need my help for anything though …well …it never hurts to ask."
She smiled at him, a distant smile; her eyes were far away as well and shining with determination. "I'll keep that in mind."
* * *
He wasn't working with his weapons like Jet had thought, Faye discovered, but in the laundry room and newly changed into his workout clothes. His mahogany gaze slid over to her and away, the faint nod of his head the only other acknowledgement of her presence. There was something clearly different about him this day, he was harder than normal, more defensive and obviously further in heart, spirit, and mind than she would have liked.
With one hand on her hip she watched as he fiddled with the tie of his sweatpants, large enough on his lean frame that they hung on his slim hips, a worn wife-beater covering his chest and back. She knew he'd toss that off once he had become fully immersed in his practice.
"Bad dreams, Spike?"
His mouth snapped open to counter her soft statement but closed just as quickly and he snatched a towel from the top of the washer, draping it over his shoulder and striding out into the hall.
"Doesn't matter that you didn't answer. We both know what you would have said." She paused, her voice altering slightly to try and imitate his but failing. "All of this is a bad dream. Anything with you in it couldn't be good."
He ignored her, walking on.
"You're just the same damn Spike Spiegel aren't you then? Nothing has changed since you killed Vicious and brought the Red Dragons to their knees and Julia was murdered has it? Not one thing! Not outside at least. Oh, that's what you like to pretend, Spike, isn't it? Doesn't work though, not here, not with us. If you can't even fool yourself how can you hope to fool us?"
Spike stopped and spun around so suddenly Faye nearly collided with him. The look that burned in her eyes gave her a chill but instead of backing away she narrowed her eyes and leaned in closer. "I don't need to keep anything from myself and I shouldn't have to worry about people nosing into my business."
"The hell, Spike! You've dragged us into your business and we deserve to know the full story but you know what? I don't want to hear it. I don't care about it. The shit you went through doesn't matter to me because why should it when it doesn't even matter to you? God dammit, Spike! You're not an emotionless robot or a Vulcan or asleep! You just keep on disillusioning yourself, acting like you're Mr. Cool, waltzing through life as if death means nothing, as if your life means nothing! Wake up, dipshit! No dream is so ugly as reality, no nightmare as painful. You can't be asleep and dreaming if this is hell!" Her hands itched to slap him and she vaguely wondered what he would do if she did but before she could try he was kissing her.
It wasn't some deep, soul binding, passion-filled thing, it was just his lips pressing against hers with a strength tempered by gentleness and it was over before she could even imagine kissing him back.
His mismatched eyes bore down into hers and this time she almost did step back. "What's it like to kiss a dream, Faye?"
Stunned, she barely heard his question. She stood there, watching him stalk down the hall again without really registering his exit, her mind touching back upon the last time he'd walked away like this when a voice pulled her back. "Heh, stories say Sleeping Beauty was woken with a kiss. Don't think I've ever heard the fairytale told where Sleeping Beauty is the one doing the kissing."
Scowling and flipping Jet the bird, Faye turned around and stomped off in the opposite direction Spike had gone, reaching the hanger and taking to the skies in her Redtail, grumbling all the way.
* * *
The damn wench was still gone, Spike noted, pouring another shot into the glass he had set on the table beside a previously full bottle of Tequila. Screw her. It wasn't her right to make him feel, it wasn't her right to keep him from drifting aimlessly through this phase of his life pretending that nothing was amiss when so suddenly he'd had his foundations ripped away and his past buried in the rubble that marked all that was left of the Red Dragon Syndicate Headquarters. Of course he should have known that Jet and Faye wouldn't have bought his little act. Hell, it was such a pathetic attempt that Ed probably knew he was still mourning, still haunted.
He stuck a finger into the liquor and put it in his mouth, giving an empty little grin before reaching out to actually pick the glass up.
"What do you think, Jet? Does time heal all wounds or make them deeper?" Spike drawled as he knocked back another shot of tequila.
"I don't know, Spike-o …does liquor dull the pain or magnify it?"
The two men shared a long look and Spike sighed heavily, throwing the empty glass at the wall. His eyes were slightly glazed from the alcohol and from the ever-present regrets hounding him as he took a cigarette from his pack and lit it, inhaling deeply. "We got the ingredients for a Prairie Oyster Breakfast?" He asked at last.
Jet gave a laughing sort of sigh and nodded. "Get some sleep and experiment on it in the morning, Spike …today has been a day from hell and I think we ought to let the sun set on it. C'mon, buddy,"
The one-armed bounty hunter assisted the other man to his quarters and Faye quietly entered the ship, her eyes bright from alcohol and her cheeks flushed. "Hard to kiss a nightmare and imagine that it's a dream," Faye joked softly, stumbling in a few steps and started off for her room. "Hope they've got the ingredients for a double-batch."
Dream on, Space CowboySession XXX: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly – Spike is woken up by Ed in a world of pain and discovers that Faye, Ein and Jet are missing. Suffering from internal injuries and external, Spike ventures out to rescue his woe-begotten partners. Meanwhile, on a strange vessel near Venus, Faye and Jet take on new names as they play a dangerous game with Masrie, Max, and Max's younger brother Bree who has developed a friendship with Ein. But when Max is killed, Bree goes after Spike for vengeance while Masrie escapes unscathed …will this new threat continue to hound the Bebop crew or will they be able to stop a revenge-crazed Muscle Man and take down a woman of sin?