Disclaimer: All characters, places, and settings unique to the Cowboy Bebop
series belong to the rightful creators, artists, and everyone else
involved. Aka. I don't own them. Didn't say I wouldn't MIND, though.
Author's note - This is my first fic up here for about.oh.four years now. I previously wrote Harry Potter fanfiction works under another name.
This fanfic begins a few years before the flashbacks within the series, when Vicious, Spike, and Julia were still juniors in high school, before any of them became too deeply involved with the Syndicate. But naturally, they very soon will be. This is also left at a PG-13 rating as of now, for future uses of alcohol, smoking, language.and will be moved to R if I see it fit.
A word of caution about pairings. Seeing that this IS in the past..this is a Vicious/Julia story. If you are very against that pairing, please, don't get involved with this fic. And no, I'll answer this right now, Faye will not make an appearance here, so there will be no Spike/Faye for all those shippers looking for it. That is all ^_^ Please feel free to review!
Past Memories, Not Forgotten
Chapter One: Paint, Bruises, and a Lack of Introduction
If you want to, I can save you
I can take you away from here
So lonely inside
So busy out there
And all you wanted was somebody who cares.-Michelle Branch, All You Wanted.
The paint was dripping again. Her hand paused, the usual blue gaze catching the stream of red mixing with the black background on plain canvas. She debated whether to stop, seeing this painting as another failure in her long string of disappointments, or keep going, and see what sort of trouble she could get into with this piece.
The red shade had come from the rose she'd painted in the center, a flower with lifelike crimson petals and a thorned green stem. Unlike most other art, where roses represented love and some sort of personal fulfillment, this one just looked as if it was bleeding and pained.
Perfect.
Julia had to get to first period, anyways.
As usual, the halls of the private high school on Mars were filled with various students in uniforms. Most giggled, others were frantically trying to finish assignments, but they all had one thing in common: none of them seemed to notice her as she passed.
She half wondered why they would in the first place.
She was nothing extraordinary. Sports was something she saw no interest in engaging in, academics she failed even when she tried. Visual art seemed to be the blonde's only option in life now, no matter how unreliable the profession seemed. And high school juniors preparing to end their second semester were all particular about picking professions while still in school.
"Here! Toss it here!" yelled a male voice, one that Julia figured was quite close by. Someone must have stolen homework again, or perhaps lunch, and was playing keep-aw-
Smack.
The notebook had gone sailing through the air, nailing her right in the forehead. Julia took a step back, letting the object hit the tile floor in front of her, near her black oxford shoes. A hand reached up to rub the attacked spot, which already started to bruise.
This would be real attractive to wear around school, not to mention the already required uniform. Despite how some girls, cheerleaders especially, seemed to have the short pleated skirts made for their long, perfect legs, the required black pleated skirt only looked silly on her. Even paired with the white blouse, black blazer with the school logo embroidered on the breast pocket, red satin neck bow, and black knee socks didn't seem to make Julia look anymore professional. She always seemed to have a new color of oil-crayons, or acrylic paints on her fingertips.
"Sorry about that!" the same voice exclaimed, audible footsteps making their way quickly over. Familiar grin, big hair, loose blue tie, button-down shirt never tucked in, she recognized him immediately to be Spike Spiegel, the one who teachers seemed to loathe, the one the students seemed to love. Sports and most schoolwork seemed so easy for him. Clearly he must have participated in the notebook theft, or else he wouldn't have stooped down to pick up the bundle of class notes. "I didn't think it would fly that far."
".It's okay." Julia muttered, making her voice barely audible to him. She rarely had confrontations with Spike, for he really only associated with her if the teacher requested it for a class project. And even then, discussion was always kept formal and on task. Her conversations with everyone were always kept formal and on task.
"Ah well, you'll probably bruise, but once that heals up you should be okay," Spike grinned down at the slightly shorter girl, who was clearly avoiding his face. He blinked slightly, a hand reaching behind his head to scratch an itch on his neck. Comprehension as to why she wouldn't look at him was something Spike didn't have, causing him to sigh and start to walk away. This one was always so particular, staying holed up in the art studio whenever she could. It was a shame too, she wasn't half-bad looking, if she'd ditch the depressed look and plain school shoes, and smiled once in awhile.
Julia too began to walk, not feeling any reassurance by his words. She must have been hit harder then she thought, for she felt her vision starting to blur slightly. Her feet, somehow, managed to keep moving down the hallway, for lateness was not acceptable here. Vision attempted to focus down the hallway, and Julia didn't know if it was a trick of her eyes or was the space getting larger, students moving to the side. But she couldn't see a reason as to why. She didn't stagger, she still was walking tall, as if nothing was wrong. But for once, the students weren't scattering because of her.
It was hard to choose what his most distinguishing feature was. Slitted eyes, silver hair, a face firmly set in a look of disgust. He didn't even wear the proper uniform, choosing to wear all black instead. The teachers would just have to forgive him the first day, he was a new student.
But Vicious was quite pleased at how the hallways parted for him to pass. Even at the first glance, he could sense the fear that chorused through the veins of his new classmates. This was only the sixth school he'd transferred to in the past year, and quite possibly would be the most smooth adjustment. The only ones who didn't seem to be cowering in fear was a tall boy, hair and uniform unkempt, hands behind his head in a casual stance. Lovely. A new smart-aleck to get the better of. The other, however, didn't seem to even notice where she was go-
He didn't even finish his thought as he felt the form crash into him. While he stayed upright, the female who'd bumped into him fell backwards, landing on her rear. With legs curled under her, Vicious noticed the blonde head look swiftly up at him, before she got to her feet all on her own. His reflex action was to glare, give the girl a harsh warning before she picked on him first, and then slowly walk away. But as he searched the girl's eyes, he saw clearly that this was not her intention.
"Sorry," was the only word Julia spoke to him, before dusting off her skirt and socks. She really hadn't meant to run into anyone, especially someone who didn't exactly seem all that pleasant. But then again, she also wasn't the type to invent a long string of excuses. Gathering up her leather schoolbag, she nodded once to him before taking off, not even bothering to ask his name.
Maybe it was better that way; that she didn't try to intervene with him. But Vicious' expression never changed as he slowly made his way to class. He was already five minutes late, and he saw no reason to hurry now.
It was awfully strange. He'd finally come across someone who didn't seem to be a threat.
Author's note - This is my first fic up here for about.oh.four years now. I previously wrote Harry Potter fanfiction works under another name.
This fanfic begins a few years before the flashbacks within the series, when Vicious, Spike, and Julia were still juniors in high school, before any of them became too deeply involved with the Syndicate. But naturally, they very soon will be. This is also left at a PG-13 rating as of now, for future uses of alcohol, smoking, language.and will be moved to R if I see it fit.
A word of caution about pairings. Seeing that this IS in the past..this is a Vicious/Julia story. If you are very against that pairing, please, don't get involved with this fic. And no, I'll answer this right now, Faye will not make an appearance here, so there will be no Spike/Faye for all those shippers looking for it. That is all ^_^ Please feel free to review!
Past Memories, Not Forgotten
Chapter One: Paint, Bruises, and a Lack of Introduction
If you want to, I can save you
I can take you away from here
So lonely inside
So busy out there
And all you wanted was somebody who cares.-Michelle Branch, All You Wanted.
The paint was dripping again. Her hand paused, the usual blue gaze catching the stream of red mixing with the black background on plain canvas. She debated whether to stop, seeing this painting as another failure in her long string of disappointments, or keep going, and see what sort of trouble she could get into with this piece.
The red shade had come from the rose she'd painted in the center, a flower with lifelike crimson petals and a thorned green stem. Unlike most other art, where roses represented love and some sort of personal fulfillment, this one just looked as if it was bleeding and pained.
Perfect.
Julia had to get to first period, anyways.
As usual, the halls of the private high school on Mars were filled with various students in uniforms. Most giggled, others were frantically trying to finish assignments, but they all had one thing in common: none of them seemed to notice her as she passed.
She half wondered why they would in the first place.
She was nothing extraordinary. Sports was something she saw no interest in engaging in, academics she failed even when she tried. Visual art seemed to be the blonde's only option in life now, no matter how unreliable the profession seemed. And high school juniors preparing to end their second semester were all particular about picking professions while still in school.
"Here! Toss it here!" yelled a male voice, one that Julia figured was quite close by. Someone must have stolen homework again, or perhaps lunch, and was playing keep-aw-
Smack.
The notebook had gone sailing through the air, nailing her right in the forehead. Julia took a step back, letting the object hit the tile floor in front of her, near her black oxford shoes. A hand reached up to rub the attacked spot, which already started to bruise.
This would be real attractive to wear around school, not to mention the already required uniform. Despite how some girls, cheerleaders especially, seemed to have the short pleated skirts made for their long, perfect legs, the required black pleated skirt only looked silly on her. Even paired with the white blouse, black blazer with the school logo embroidered on the breast pocket, red satin neck bow, and black knee socks didn't seem to make Julia look anymore professional. She always seemed to have a new color of oil-crayons, or acrylic paints on her fingertips.
"Sorry about that!" the same voice exclaimed, audible footsteps making their way quickly over. Familiar grin, big hair, loose blue tie, button-down shirt never tucked in, she recognized him immediately to be Spike Spiegel, the one who teachers seemed to loathe, the one the students seemed to love. Sports and most schoolwork seemed so easy for him. Clearly he must have participated in the notebook theft, or else he wouldn't have stooped down to pick up the bundle of class notes. "I didn't think it would fly that far."
".It's okay." Julia muttered, making her voice barely audible to him. She rarely had confrontations with Spike, for he really only associated with her if the teacher requested it for a class project. And even then, discussion was always kept formal and on task. Her conversations with everyone were always kept formal and on task.
"Ah well, you'll probably bruise, but once that heals up you should be okay," Spike grinned down at the slightly shorter girl, who was clearly avoiding his face. He blinked slightly, a hand reaching behind his head to scratch an itch on his neck. Comprehension as to why she wouldn't look at him was something Spike didn't have, causing him to sigh and start to walk away. This one was always so particular, staying holed up in the art studio whenever she could. It was a shame too, she wasn't half-bad looking, if she'd ditch the depressed look and plain school shoes, and smiled once in awhile.
Julia too began to walk, not feeling any reassurance by his words. She must have been hit harder then she thought, for she felt her vision starting to blur slightly. Her feet, somehow, managed to keep moving down the hallway, for lateness was not acceptable here. Vision attempted to focus down the hallway, and Julia didn't know if it was a trick of her eyes or was the space getting larger, students moving to the side. But she couldn't see a reason as to why. She didn't stagger, she still was walking tall, as if nothing was wrong. But for once, the students weren't scattering because of her.
It was hard to choose what his most distinguishing feature was. Slitted eyes, silver hair, a face firmly set in a look of disgust. He didn't even wear the proper uniform, choosing to wear all black instead. The teachers would just have to forgive him the first day, he was a new student.
But Vicious was quite pleased at how the hallways parted for him to pass. Even at the first glance, he could sense the fear that chorused through the veins of his new classmates. This was only the sixth school he'd transferred to in the past year, and quite possibly would be the most smooth adjustment. The only ones who didn't seem to be cowering in fear was a tall boy, hair and uniform unkempt, hands behind his head in a casual stance. Lovely. A new smart-aleck to get the better of. The other, however, didn't seem to even notice where she was go-
He didn't even finish his thought as he felt the form crash into him. While he stayed upright, the female who'd bumped into him fell backwards, landing on her rear. With legs curled under her, Vicious noticed the blonde head look swiftly up at him, before she got to her feet all on her own. His reflex action was to glare, give the girl a harsh warning before she picked on him first, and then slowly walk away. But as he searched the girl's eyes, he saw clearly that this was not her intention.
"Sorry," was the only word Julia spoke to him, before dusting off her skirt and socks. She really hadn't meant to run into anyone, especially someone who didn't exactly seem all that pleasant. But then again, she also wasn't the type to invent a long string of excuses. Gathering up her leather schoolbag, she nodded once to him before taking off, not even bothering to ask his name.
Maybe it was better that way; that she didn't try to intervene with him. But Vicious' expression never changed as he slowly made his way to class. He was already five minutes late, and he saw no reason to hurry now.
It was awfully strange. He'd finally come across someone who didn't seem to be a threat.
