Holiday Jazz and Blues
There was a decided upside to being stuck on Callisto during the holiday season, Julia mused as she ran a slender finger around the rim of her drink. There weren't any girls on the moon, she knew because she had checked the place out before deciding to go there, and as a result not very many places were festively decked out. It made for a welcome change from the bright lights, Christmas songs, and general hubbub that made life on the other planets and moons of the solar system nearly impossible at this time of year.
Back on Mars she had never really celebrated the holidays as a child. She never really had reason to. She didn't attend school so there was no joy in missing a few days and the only good thing about the season was that it was easier to pick pockets or scrounge up some food from a charitable organization. Of course, it was also colder, which meant she was usually laid up in bed with a cold and shivering in her bedclothes. For some reason, probably nostalgia kicking in because of the alcohol she'd been downing all night, she actually missed that.
She remembered Spike used to come up to her room with little treats that he snitched from people on the street or with a present for her. It's supposed to be the time of giving, right? He'd say. Well, they gave to me so I could give to you. She had always loved his way of justifying things when he always denied he even had a conscience. No, boys weren't allowed to be sensitive and caring, especially growing up in the slums of Mars with the syndicates always on the lookout for fresh blood. The boys had to grow up fast and hard, the more knowledgeable he was about guns and the streets and such increased his chances of being picked up as an errand boy and eventually working up to a better rank. It was something most boys longed for because it meant a regular meal, a place to stay, something to do that actually meant something.
Well, Julia had always wanted to join the syndicate too. She knew that there were women in the syndicate, knew that she could prove herself and join the ranks…join Spike…she just had to try. Oh, her mother had never approved, but luckily her mother had died when Julia was twelve so that had left her free to make her own way in life. Only now, when she looked back on the shambles and bloody ruin that was her life, did she ever think that her mom had the right idea.
She had been defiant and independent since she was born it seemed. Always stubbornly fighting her mother, or Spike, or the other kids on one issue or another. She grimaced as she took a sip of her drink, a brandy, if she remembered her last order correctly. It was only now that she was grown up that she wished she had been a kid as a child. No one had forced her to grow up except herself. Living on the streets of Mars probably wouldn't have killed her, but she wanted the Ritz and glamour of the syndicate world. She wanted to be one of those women who wore the diamond-studded heels and the mink stoles and the dresses made of silk and velvet from places she couldn't even pronounce.
It certainly wasn't what she thought it would be.
"Another…er, a scotch on the rocks, please."
The bartender nodded absently as he moved to fill her order and she leaned back on the stool, turning slightly to get a look at the small band in a dimly lit corner filling the room with melancholy music. It was a bad combination, that song and the drink. Enough to make a girl wistful and downhearted, and the worst of it was that it was Christmas.
A smile curved her lips at the thought. She didn't know the story behind the holiday, she didn't have anyone to buy or steal a gift for, she didn't understand why any one-day of the year had special significance. It was a stupid idea. People should be nice more often and without having to feel pressured to do so by some rotund guy in a red jumper. This wasn't like her though, she wasn't normally the type of girl to drown herself in cheap liquor and to wish things had been different in her life. She'd always been a take-charge girl who drove fast, shot first, and asked questions later on if she felt like it. She'd never been one of those Susie-home-maker girls wanting cards, candy, and stuffed toys for Valentines Day and other holidays, and she'd never felt particularly sympathetic for the pitiful saps who bemoaned lost loves and wailed on how horrible their lives were because they broke a nail while applying eyeliner.
She frowned as she tried to think if that was even possible. Probably. But it didn't matter anyway; it was just her drunk thoughts trying to find a meaning for feeling particularly bad on a day that didn't really matter to her in the long run. Really, it hadn't even been a bad day, or at least no worse than normal. She'd had worse days and come out laughing and maybe banged up a little but never depressed like this, never lonely, and certainly never pining over the past.
Or she was just blowing shit out of her ass.
"I don't like this. I don't like this one bit." The bartender gave no sign of having heard her whisper and nor did the other miserable drunks stupefying themselves with drinks, most given festive names that made her want to vomit as much as their bad taste did. She had always been more partial to wine, absinthe, or vodka. Sentimentality and pathetically weak drinks like any of the beers in existence weren't for her.
The song the band was playing was familiar and painfully so. It was her song.
Was that why she had come here? Was she chasing after a phantom that had shunned her in the past? She supposed she could still love Vicious, she supposed she might even feel sorry for him and angry at herself for betraying him with his best friend. But she had loved Spike since she was just a little girl who threw verdant-haired little boys into heaps of trash and other dirty kids. It did her no good reflecting on the choices she'd made. Her life in the syndicate was said and done as far as she was concerned, but she knew that her reprieve would not last long. In fact, she was amazed that she hadn't been pulled back in already, but she assumed that Vicious was busy and that the Van just didn't feel like taking care of one defect little girl agent.
The saxophonist was watching her. For some strange reason she almost felt that he'd even heard when she was talking quietly to herself early. Oddly, the thought didn't frighten her. It was Christmas Eve and miracles were supposed to happen, all endings were good and everything would turn up peachy keen and deliriously happy until probably about a day after New Years. Well then. If that was all so, where was her happy ending? Where was her holiday miracle?
The band was packing up for the night by the time she was finished drinking and a careless glance at the clock showed her that it was closing time and Christmas day. Oh god. It was way too early to be awake on Christmas, which meant that it was time she turned in and slept through the day to wake up on a less significant date.
She sneezed and the saxophonist stopped just off to her side, giving her a smile that seemed at once sad and hopeful and tired. It was a smile that made her think of herself. It was a smile that made her believe for once that fate was the driving force in the world and that all things happened for a reason. It was a smile that made her heart bleed because it was so achingly sincere.
And then her angel spoke.
"I see you."
'Tis the season, JulesAuthor's Notes: I thought it would be interesting if Spike and Julia had grown up together as children and I don't remember ever reading a story with quite that setup so…I tossed it in here. This is a strange piece because it doesn't really feel like Julia to me, so I made her sort of wonder why she was acting the way she was. And, in the spirit of the season, I tried to make the ending a bit happy, but I'm not sure how that panned out exactly.
I was originally going to post a Christmas story centered on the Bebop crew, but I hadn't written up to that point in "Okay…3, 2, 1…Let's Jam!" So, maybe next year. I'll also be doing a short series pertaining to Spike's past and showing how I believe things could have happened to make him who he was in the show. In addition to that, I've got a few songfics muddling about in my head, and a series that I hope to do for the Bebop crew taking place during the series instead of being after Spike's death – or miraculous recovery, depending on the angle you work it – or being before they got together. And I'm not sure but I might do some little vignettes of the three years when it was just Jet and Spike. Who knows? Maybe for Christmas I'll get some inspiration and motivation J
Hugs, kisses and sweet *day*dreams ~ Aldrean Treu Peri, Neo-Moon Guardian ~
See you, Space Cowboy!