All characters and thematic elements property of Bandai Entertainment and
Sunrise Inc.
Musings: Why do fanfic writers always feel the need to dress Faye differently, or grow her hair, or make her really whiney and put her in situations she could totally get out of on the show but can't in fic? Just for continuity purposes, this takes place before the show ended. We'll just pretend that whole last bit didn't happen. Although I loved the way the show ended. And if you like this fic, read my other one, Endgame. It's gotten like two reviews. Anywho, enjoy! Oh yeah, this may be the last PG-13 chapter, so check out the R-rated section if you don't see this for a while.
A Game of Cards
Chapter 3
Faye slid her sunglasses on before vacating the Redtail. She adjusted her bracelets in case of trouble and surveyed the scene before her. Krestil seemed like just her sort of town. There were floating neon signs and holographic strippers everywhere. According to Ed, Mr. Flowers had been visiting a notorious poker hall called Trigger Joe's every evening. She walked down Titan Avenue and smirked into the sunset. It was like these bounty heads wanted to be caught by Poker Alice.
She ambled towards the streets, checking out the Neptunian population. She guessed she just might have landed on the wrong side of town. There were shady characters everywhere. Half of them were packing in the open. Faye was smarter than that. Her guns were hidden. It just added to the overall effect. Her body wasn't just bait. Men always seemed to mistake a sexual ideal for innocence, or at least incompetence. Maybe that last one was because of her gender. Even Spike hadn't seemed to figure out she could hold her own against him. She spotted Trigger Joe's behind a roasted monkey palace. She wrinkled her nose as she walked past it but couldn't help admitting that even monkey meat smelled good when you were as hungry as she was. Her stomach growled, and her resolve strengthened. She brushed into Trigger Joe's like she owned it, and propped herself against the door frame. That's right, she thought to herself as the male gazes all turned to her. She checked out the room through the dark cast of her sunglasses, and spotted Percy Flowers in the corner with the meanest looking crew of poker players in the room. She wondered if they knew his name was Percy Flowers. Shrugging, she sidled over to the crew. By the time she reached the table, they were all gaping at her. Men. So predictable.
"Mind if I join the hand?" she drawled.
Percy spoke, the snake tattoed on his head puckering as he frowned. "Bit late in the game, Miss Lady."
"That's all right, Mr. Man," Faye replied easily. She drew her gun and placed it solidly against his temple. "I don't play fair myself." She heard the familiar click of guns taking off their safety all around her. Percy's lips curled back in a smile. Faye glared at the thugs with their guns drawn. "What's the matter with you people?" she growled. "Don't you know this guy's got information on all of you? He used to work for the ISSP, you know."
"They know, Miss Lady," Percy grinned. "They paid me to steal the information." Faye glanced back at him, taking in the situation. After all, she didn't want a room full of precious bounty heads dead or injured. Suddenly, Percy stood. Faye stepped back, keeping one gun level at his head and drawing another for to take care of the thugs in the room. Percy didn't draw a gun. He drew a knife, and before she knew it, had drawn a line through her top. Faye looked down at the hanging flaps of her yellow halter top. Good thing she was wearing a bra. "I don't play fair neither." His face was no more than an inch away, and he had bad breath. Faye kicked him in the groin before he could do anything else, reading his move for a stalling tactic. She ducked under the table as the shots started to ring out. She tipped the table over, took a quick glance at the room. The thugs were complete idiots, not moving. Didn't they know the really good shots cultivated a photographic memory? And she was a really good shot. She had the guns out of their hands in twelve shots. Percy, recovering from the pain she's inflicted on his groin, grabbed Faye by the front of her bra and pushed her harshly against the wall. She didn't struggle. She still had both guns. Unfortunately, Percy knew something about pressure points, and after cutting off the circulation in her arms as he held them against the wall, she'd lost one gun and was hanging onto the other with a pinky. She grunted. It was looking about time to use her bracelets when she saw a silhouetted figure in the doorway.
"You've gotta be kidding me," she groaned, as Spike closed in behind the thugs going for the guns Faye had shot out of their hands.
"I don't kid, Miss Lady," Percy whispered. He drew her towards him and smacked her against the wall. Her skull hit the brick and she started to see a seeping red. But then, she'd always been hardheaded, in more ways than one. She shook it off, and he smacked her into the wall again.
"Ow!" she complained. "That's really annoying!" She drew her legs up and used them as a lever to distance him from herself. Her circulation back, she grasped the gun she'd managed to hold onto and moved away from him. Already five gunmen had guns in their hands. That's when Spike started in on them. He moved through the crowd as though he'd already predicted all the possibilities of their movement. He avoided every blow and connected with every head. Faye took care of one man who started to aim for him, and then again disabled the gunholders, shooting their hands in the process for good measure. Faye and Spike moved towards each other and fought their way into a back to back holding position.
"Color coordinated all the way through, aren't you Faye?" Spike said as he drew his gun and fired at a chandelier. It fell down and pinned three of the more menacing thugs.
"What are you talking about?" Faye caught the barkeep going for a shotgun and shot him in the shoulder.
"You bra matches your bandana."
"Oh," Faye replied, blushing furiously. She'd forgotten about that. She finished off the last standing thug, taking him out with a tranquilizer bullet.
Percy picked himself up from the pile of fallen thugs. He stood for a moment, and then opened up his vest to reveal a motherlode of dynamite big enough to fill out the potbelly Faye and Spike now realized was fake. Spike was reminded, irrationally, of the pregnant belly of Asimov's lady in Tijuana.
"I know exactly what you want," Percy said. "And if I'm going down, I'm taking all of it with me."
"Oh, shut up," Faye said, and shot him with another tranquilizer dart. He fell slowly, clutched at the control panel on his heart, and failed to activate it.
"Goddamn it Faye you nearly screwed to whole thing up!" Spike yelled.
"Goddamn it Spike I brought the whole thing together!"
"Whatever, that bounty's at least half mine."
"Are you kidding? I took out Percy Flowers. You can have half of the rest of them but that five billion is mine."
"You would've been a goner if I hadn't showed up!" His eye was starting to twitch. Not a good sign.
Faye drew a breath and tried to calm herself. "I was about to use my bracelet."
"OK, fine , you would have lost the bounty then!" He was starting to look really distracted. Faye wondered if this may be the beginning of a nervous breakdown.
"I took down Percy Flowers, that bounty is mine."
"It's never worked that way," Spike said. He wasn't looking her in the eye. He was staring below that. He shook his head and gave an aggravated yell. "I can't argue with your tits hanging in my face." He took of his jacket and extended it to her, refusing to look at her. "Fine, whatever, you win. Just take my jacket." If Faye wasn't mistaken, his cheeks were a little rosy.
She chuckled and slid his jacket on. "Well, well, Mr. Spiegal. Looks like I win this round."
"You and your tits."
She started to blush. "Oh, shut up."
"I guess," Spike said, lighting up a cigarette, "When all's said and done, I did see you in your underwear. So, in a way, I win, because I had you at a disadvantage."
"I wouldn't put it like that," Faye said, her entire face heating up now. She drew Spike's jacket around her tighter.
"And you know," Spike continued pensively, "they're really bouncy. I always thought they were fake, but-"
"Oh, that's it," Faye muttered and smacked him. His cigarette fell out of his mouth and clattered to the floor. Faye stooped down to grab it and placed it in her mouth. "Let's go and collect our bounty, huh?"
Spike put a hand to his cheek and watched her leave. Then he followed her.
Musings: Why do fanfic writers always feel the need to dress Faye differently, or grow her hair, or make her really whiney and put her in situations she could totally get out of on the show but can't in fic? Just for continuity purposes, this takes place before the show ended. We'll just pretend that whole last bit didn't happen. Although I loved the way the show ended. And if you like this fic, read my other one, Endgame. It's gotten like two reviews. Anywho, enjoy! Oh yeah, this may be the last PG-13 chapter, so check out the R-rated section if you don't see this for a while.
A Game of Cards
Chapter 3
Faye slid her sunglasses on before vacating the Redtail. She adjusted her bracelets in case of trouble and surveyed the scene before her. Krestil seemed like just her sort of town. There were floating neon signs and holographic strippers everywhere. According to Ed, Mr. Flowers had been visiting a notorious poker hall called Trigger Joe's every evening. She walked down Titan Avenue and smirked into the sunset. It was like these bounty heads wanted to be caught by Poker Alice.
She ambled towards the streets, checking out the Neptunian population. She guessed she just might have landed on the wrong side of town. There were shady characters everywhere. Half of them were packing in the open. Faye was smarter than that. Her guns were hidden. It just added to the overall effect. Her body wasn't just bait. Men always seemed to mistake a sexual ideal for innocence, or at least incompetence. Maybe that last one was because of her gender. Even Spike hadn't seemed to figure out she could hold her own against him. She spotted Trigger Joe's behind a roasted monkey palace. She wrinkled her nose as she walked past it but couldn't help admitting that even monkey meat smelled good when you were as hungry as she was. Her stomach growled, and her resolve strengthened. She brushed into Trigger Joe's like she owned it, and propped herself against the door frame. That's right, she thought to herself as the male gazes all turned to her. She checked out the room through the dark cast of her sunglasses, and spotted Percy Flowers in the corner with the meanest looking crew of poker players in the room. She wondered if they knew his name was Percy Flowers. Shrugging, she sidled over to the crew. By the time she reached the table, they were all gaping at her. Men. So predictable.
"Mind if I join the hand?" she drawled.
Percy spoke, the snake tattoed on his head puckering as he frowned. "Bit late in the game, Miss Lady."
"That's all right, Mr. Man," Faye replied easily. She drew her gun and placed it solidly against his temple. "I don't play fair myself." She heard the familiar click of guns taking off their safety all around her. Percy's lips curled back in a smile. Faye glared at the thugs with their guns drawn. "What's the matter with you people?" she growled. "Don't you know this guy's got information on all of you? He used to work for the ISSP, you know."
"They know, Miss Lady," Percy grinned. "They paid me to steal the information." Faye glanced back at him, taking in the situation. After all, she didn't want a room full of precious bounty heads dead or injured. Suddenly, Percy stood. Faye stepped back, keeping one gun level at his head and drawing another for to take care of the thugs in the room. Percy didn't draw a gun. He drew a knife, and before she knew it, had drawn a line through her top. Faye looked down at the hanging flaps of her yellow halter top. Good thing she was wearing a bra. "I don't play fair neither." His face was no more than an inch away, and he had bad breath. Faye kicked him in the groin before he could do anything else, reading his move for a stalling tactic. She ducked under the table as the shots started to ring out. She tipped the table over, took a quick glance at the room. The thugs were complete idiots, not moving. Didn't they know the really good shots cultivated a photographic memory? And she was a really good shot. She had the guns out of their hands in twelve shots. Percy, recovering from the pain she's inflicted on his groin, grabbed Faye by the front of her bra and pushed her harshly against the wall. She didn't struggle. She still had both guns. Unfortunately, Percy knew something about pressure points, and after cutting off the circulation in her arms as he held them against the wall, she'd lost one gun and was hanging onto the other with a pinky. She grunted. It was looking about time to use her bracelets when she saw a silhouetted figure in the doorway.
"You've gotta be kidding me," she groaned, as Spike closed in behind the thugs going for the guns Faye had shot out of their hands.
"I don't kid, Miss Lady," Percy whispered. He drew her towards him and smacked her against the wall. Her skull hit the brick and she started to see a seeping red. But then, she'd always been hardheaded, in more ways than one. She shook it off, and he smacked her into the wall again.
"Ow!" she complained. "That's really annoying!" She drew her legs up and used them as a lever to distance him from herself. Her circulation back, she grasped the gun she'd managed to hold onto and moved away from him. Already five gunmen had guns in their hands. That's when Spike started in on them. He moved through the crowd as though he'd already predicted all the possibilities of their movement. He avoided every blow and connected with every head. Faye took care of one man who started to aim for him, and then again disabled the gunholders, shooting their hands in the process for good measure. Faye and Spike moved towards each other and fought their way into a back to back holding position.
"Color coordinated all the way through, aren't you Faye?" Spike said as he drew his gun and fired at a chandelier. It fell down and pinned three of the more menacing thugs.
"What are you talking about?" Faye caught the barkeep going for a shotgun and shot him in the shoulder.
"You bra matches your bandana."
"Oh," Faye replied, blushing furiously. She'd forgotten about that. She finished off the last standing thug, taking him out with a tranquilizer bullet.
Percy picked himself up from the pile of fallen thugs. He stood for a moment, and then opened up his vest to reveal a motherlode of dynamite big enough to fill out the potbelly Faye and Spike now realized was fake. Spike was reminded, irrationally, of the pregnant belly of Asimov's lady in Tijuana.
"I know exactly what you want," Percy said. "And if I'm going down, I'm taking all of it with me."
"Oh, shut up," Faye said, and shot him with another tranquilizer dart. He fell slowly, clutched at the control panel on his heart, and failed to activate it.
"Goddamn it Faye you nearly screwed to whole thing up!" Spike yelled.
"Goddamn it Spike I brought the whole thing together!"
"Whatever, that bounty's at least half mine."
"Are you kidding? I took out Percy Flowers. You can have half of the rest of them but that five billion is mine."
"You would've been a goner if I hadn't showed up!" His eye was starting to twitch. Not a good sign.
Faye drew a breath and tried to calm herself. "I was about to use my bracelet."
"OK, fine , you would have lost the bounty then!" He was starting to look really distracted. Faye wondered if this may be the beginning of a nervous breakdown.
"I took down Percy Flowers, that bounty is mine."
"It's never worked that way," Spike said. He wasn't looking her in the eye. He was staring below that. He shook his head and gave an aggravated yell. "I can't argue with your tits hanging in my face." He took of his jacket and extended it to her, refusing to look at her. "Fine, whatever, you win. Just take my jacket." If Faye wasn't mistaken, his cheeks were a little rosy.
She chuckled and slid his jacket on. "Well, well, Mr. Spiegal. Looks like I win this round."
"You and your tits."
She started to blush. "Oh, shut up."
"I guess," Spike said, lighting up a cigarette, "When all's said and done, I did see you in your underwear. So, in a way, I win, because I had you at a disadvantage."
"I wouldn't put it like that," Faye said, her entire face heating up now. She drew Spike's jacket around her tighter.
"And you know," Spike continued pensively, "they're really bouncy. I always thought they were fake, but-"
"Oh, that's it," Faye muttered and smacked him. His cigarette fell out of his mouth and clattered to the floor. Faye stooped down to grab it and placed it in her mouth. "Let's go and collect our bounty, huh?"
Spike put a hand to his cheek and watched her leave. Then he followed her.