A/N: Hey all! Just a little info on my story that I forgot to include…
1: This is not Spike x Faye (I think that's pretty obvious by now…)
2: Not liking the end of the series, I'm pretending Spike killed Vicious, but didn't die himself. He rejoined the whole crew on the Bebop (Faye, Jet, Ed, and Ein). The crew spilt up a year later.
3: I do not on Cowboy Bebop (oh how I wish I did!!)
4: I DO own my OC (the lady and Krishta)
5. And here's a shout out to my reviewers:
KIMMU: Thanks for the compliment! ^.^ Not much plot development in that chapter… I know. Just trying to introduce you to the characters! Be patient! I'll get there…
STRIFE21: Thanks for the review! You make me feel all fuzzy inside!! Arigato!
Now, this chappy is longer, and has some plot development in there somewhere…(wink wink) Please read, AND REVIEW!!!!! Pweease? (insert puppy dog eyes here)
Spike sighed as he clambered into the Swordfish II, not even bothering to close the door behind him. Who the hell was that lady?
He swore fluently when he chanced a look at the passenger seat. A single rose lay on a piece of paper.
As he lifted the rose there was loud bang, that caused Spike to throw himself sideways behind his seat.
No other noise sounded, so Spike cautiously picked himself up, looking for damage. There were no new scratches on the outside of the Swordfish II, and he was uninjured. He looked at he rose, and felt himself pale.
There was a single bullet hole through the petals, placed perfectly, so none of the petals even fell off.
When Spike looked up, he caught a flash of something moving on a nearby rooftop. He looked at the rose and grinned wryly.
He bowed to the rooftop, before vaulting into his ship, this time closing the door. He sat there for a moment, shaking his head and chuckling, before throwing the ship into drive and flying off.
On the rooftop, the lady stood, watching his ship disappear into the horizon. She smiled, a genuine smile, not mocking or cruel, but a happy smile.
Then, as if realizing what she was doing, she frowned and holstered her smoking gun.
"You better watch your back, Spike Spiegel. You aren't getting off this easy…"
Spike whistled as he entered the saloon, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
He seated himself at the bar and ordered a drink. Only then did he happen to glance around the smoky saloon.
What he saw made his eyes widen. The mysterious lady sat facing towards him at a table in the corner. Across from her sat a large man in a trench coat, with a fedora perched jauntily on his head.
Spike concentrated on making himself invisible, as he tried to hear what they were saying.
"- red wine." The woman was saying. "It was a very effective ploy. I believe you are underestimating him. Sp-"
The man cuffed her across the face, hard enough to knock her from her chair.
Suddenly, every eye in the bar was on the pair.
The man stood, and looked down at the lady. "I never underestimate anyone. I do not make mistakes. You should learn how to do that, or your next target will be you." He hissed, turning to the crowd, allowing Spike to get a good view of him.
He stood about six-and-a-half feet tall, his trench coat was buttoned up to his chin, and his hat was pulled low over hard eyes.
Those stony eyes found Spike's. "You!" he yelled, drawing a gun.
Spike jumped off his barstool, and vaulted over a table, as gunshots rang around him. He sprinted towards the wall, running a few feet up it and flipping over himself, to land facing his assailant.
Spike caught sight of the lady still sprawled on the floor, but with a smoking gun in either hand. He winked jauntily at her, before drawing his own gun and shooting out the window behind him, and leaping out into his waiting ship. He gunned the engine and soared off into the sky, gunshots still ringing off the metal body.
Spike chuckled to himself as he entered the run down hangar that he was hiding out in. What a great day! He pulled off his shirt and cracked his back. Now, a little practice before bed…
He began working on his punches and kicks, switching from one form of martial arts to another. When he was finally finished, he looked at the rundown cuckoo-clock hanging on the wall. Wow. Almost four straight hours of training. That's pretty damn good…He wiped sweat off his face and turned, to find himself staring down the barrel of a gun.
"Hello, Spike." The lady regarded him with level green eyes, as she cocked the pistol. "I would suggest that you don't make any sudden movements."
Spike sighed and shook his head wryly. He held up his hands in a mocking surrender. "Alright. Bang bang. I'm dead. Now what do you want?"
The lady rolled her eyes. "Cut the crap, Spiegel. Krishta wants your head served with his dinner."
Spike's head shot up. Krishta!
Spike lowered Faye's still form to the blood soaked ground. "Goodbye Faye…"
"A touching exchange…" A dark figure stepped out from the shadows. "To bad she had to go and die…"
Spike snarled at the man, spitting at his booted feet, sending spit caked dust flying up to stain the dark trenchcoat.
The man laughed. "She was such a strong woman…I almost wish I hadn't killed her…" The man laughed harshly.
The man's laugh was cut off as Spike's bullet found his left eye. "Spike Spiegel, you're a dead man! Krishta will hunt you down!"
Spike dashed tears from his eyes as he sprinted down the cold hallway, dodging rapid gunfire from Krishta's sub-machine gun.
Lightning fast, Spike's hand lashed out and grabbed the woman by the throat. "What do you know about Krishta?!" he snarled.
The woman never lost her cool demeanor, but she holstered her gun in surrender. "I work for him. I was talking to him in the saloon today."
Spike froze. That was Krishta? I let him slip through my fingers…
The lady raised an eyebrow. "You know him." It wasn't a question, but more of a statement.
Spike regained his composure. "You know his eye? Yeah, well that was me."
The woman blinked then smirked. "Mr. Spike Spiegel, it's an honor to have met you!"
He slowly relaxed his fingers from her neck, wincing when he saw the red welts his fingers had left.
"So. Are you going to kill me now?"
She shook her head and stepped back. "Not when you could just as easily have killed me. There's no honor in that."
Spike raised an eyebrow. "We're bounty hunters. We don't have honor."
The lady rolled her eyes. "Stuff it. Anyways, I won't kill you… Consider it a debt paid. You could have killed me, but didn't, so now I could kill you, but I won't."
Spike shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat. So, what brings you here, aside from a psychotic urge to kill me?"
She sighed in annoyance. "That's for me to know, and you to find out…"
He noticed a bruise purpling on her cheekbone. "Is that from Krishta?"
The lady shoved his hands off. "What does it matter?"
Spike shrugged. "Whatever."
The lady glared at Spike and walked out of the hangar. She hopped in her fighter, and shifted on the thrusters.
The hangar quickly disappeared from view, swallowed by the barren desert. A short while later, a skyscraper appeared, looking very out of place in the middle of the barren wasteland.
She docked her fighter in the port, and walked slowly into the cold building. As she strode through the silent corridors, a messenger ran up to her. "Lord Krishta wishes to speak with you."
She nodded coldly. "Very well." She led the man lead her to a dark room with no windows or furniture, just a door and a grate in the ceiling.
"So. I hear you paid Mr. Spiegel a visit." Krishta stood in a corner, partially hidden in the shadows.
She nodded and pulled out a cigarette, lighting up, and puffing nonchalantly.
He frowned. "Well? Did you kill him?"
She looked at Krishta and raised an eyebrow. "No."
His expression shifted from shock, to puzzlement, to rage.
"What?! How could you not kill him?! Why didn't you do it?!"
She shrugged and looked at the ceiling, taking a deep drag on her cigarette.
Krishta drew back his fist and slugged her across the check, throwing her to the ground. "You little whore! You'll pay for this with your life!"
He kicked her a few times and pulled out his gun. He grabbed her by the hair, hauling her to her feet, and pressing his gun against her temple. "Say goodbye now…"
There was a gunshot and the lady winced. But the bullet was not embedded somewhere in her head. It was in Krishta's right thigh.
She turned to see Spike Spiegel drop out of the ventilation shaft, throwing the grate at Krishta.
He stood, a smoking gun in his right hand, and a flashlight in his left.
Spike looked at Krishta, who had been knocked unconscious when the grate hit him. "That was easy." He looked at her, concerned. "Are you alright?"
She nodded shakily. "Wow. I really thought that was the end…Um, thanks."
Spike smiled and cockily ran a hand through his hair. "Well, now that you owe me again, how about you meet me at noon in the hangar? No weapons please."
She stared at him. "Are you serious?"
He nodded. "Completely. Swear on your honor that you won't bring a weapon."
She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Noon tomorrow. No weapons."
He flashed her a grin, and climbed easily into the ventilation shaft, fitting the grate back on behind him.
The lady stood, staring solemnly at Krishta's crumpled form. Then she spit on him, and strode from the room.