Harro! Well, this is my first posted fic, and thanks to my friend Janiece
Ray, it is posted. I hope you all enjoy it, and I would love to hear
comments and thoughts. It would be very appreciated. Standard
Disclaimers! I do not own Cowboy Bebop, damn me for not having the idea
first, and the characters (other than my created ones) are not mine. Don't
sue me, I'm as poor as they come! * turns pockets inside out and sighs with
disappointment * Ah well, on with the show. More romance, violence, and
such will proceed as it goes on. Bear with me, and I hope the story will
be well worth the wait. ^.^ Thank you so very much!
Mild content and strong sexual situations. More to come!
Chapter 1 Ghosts from the past:
Spike walked up to the club doors. It was ladies night. Well, Jaded Ladies night, at least. He smiled, his target was here. When he walked into the club the first words he heard were: "Don't wanna be the one to pop your cherry girl." The hard sound of a guitar filled the room. The room was bursting with smoke and there were flashing lights of different colors. There were round tables in the room with poles. The women danced around on the tables, got tips, and usually walked off with a man of choice. "Knock on, knock on, the sky." One woman caught his eyes. She had all the right curves in all the right places. Her short hair was vibrant blue, and she had short cut bangs. The music continued on and her hips swung. The lady knew how to move, she was like a gypsy. She wore fish net hoes and high, high heels. Her skirt was short enough that if she bent the slightest bit you got the perfect view of a lifetime. She wore a tight black tube top; it matched the blue leather skirt in style. It was snug enough to make a man have a heart attack. She wasn't as busty as Fei, but she had more than enough, and her hips made up for it. Then again he had always been a hip and leg man. He liked something to hold onto. She wore black, elbow length gloves, he noticed. His eyes wandered up. When he saw her face his breath caught.
Those perfect brows over thick lush lashes, the perfect cheekbones and full, soft lips. When her eyes came up, he knew it was she. She stepped down and smiled at a man. Spike tried to push through the crowd, but he lost her. Random women grabbed his bottom and yelled, "Hey baby," but he was looking for her. Wait; he told himself, you're here for the bounty. Besides, it couldn't have been her. Spike continued to search for the target.
* * *
Her short blue hair was straight and reached her cheekbones. She had painted her face just right, with blue eye shadow, black liner, and red glossy lips. Her target was here. He came up to her and she stepped from the platform. He was a heavyset man, and not overly tall. But he held information. Now he was wanted and if he got caught, he would talk. She couldn't afford that. The fishnets were only thigh highs, so as he pushed her up on the wall he found her body ready for access. He fumbled with his pants and she smiled. She drew out the dagger while he was looking down. She stabbed it through his temple. The man's breath hitched and his pants fell to his ankles. He fell to the ground and she wiped the dagger clean on his pants. Her blue hair would have to go now. She stepped from the co- ed bathrooms and quickly walked away. The dagger was back between her breasts and shaped like a hair chopstick. Her gloves blocked any fingerprints and the wig would prove to leave no traces of hair. She turned her head as she walked through the people. What she saw shocked her, "Spike."
* * *
His eyes met hers across the room. When he made his way to her she slipped out to the alley. Spike ran after her. He looked around but nothing was there. He passed the dumpster and looked around. "Lookin' for me, Spike-o?" He froze, that rich soft voice slid through him. The low sound was one he would never forget, "Rip Tide." He turned to see her leaning against the half dumpster. The wig was gone, replaced by the fall of long, long honey hair. It waved and curled at the ends, so much like Julia's. She was tall, and even more so in the heels. "Hello again, Spike."
"What are you doing here, Rip?" She smiled softly, "You know my job, Spike. How have you been?" He watched her, "I'm doing. Looking for a bounty." Spike watched Rip's eyes narrow. He smiled, "That's who you were here to kill?" She didn't answer. He stepped close, "The Syndicate is dead, why are you still killing people for it?" She looked up at him, "It's not dead, Spike. You should know better. Just because He's gone doesn't mean the rest of us are." Spike touched her smooth cheek. He looked down and noticed she now wore knee length boots. The fishnet hoes and heels were gone. She wasn't wearing the eye shadow, either. "You're fast." She nodded, "I have to be." Spike heard the screams come from the club. "Spike let me go."
Rip watched him, begging to be freed, wanting to stay. "Why?" She sighed, "I should be long gone by now, Spike." He nodded. The authorities were showing up now. He heard the sirens. On a whim, Spike pushed her against the wall. He began to kiss her fiercely. He lifted her and her legs wrapped around his hips. He undid his pants and slammed into her. She cried out. He smiled wickedly, "Always prepared." She half laughed, "Underwear are so overrated." He began to rock, "I'm sorry, it's the only thing I could think of.oh.." She gasped, "I know. They wont be looking much at me now. You're my new.oooh.. alibi." He groaned and pressed deeper. They hadn't had any foreplay, he thought. He could be hurting her. His hand slid to the juncture at her thighs. He began to toy with her. She nipped his ear and laved it. "Spike." Two officers came up and stopped, watching. "Oh, God, RIP!"
One cop nudged the other, "What do ya think Rip stands for?" The dark haired cop shrugged, "Uh, Ripley?" The shorter cop nodded, "Yeah, Ripley. Damn, she looks good. Lucky bastard." They turned and walked away, but Spike didn't stop. He was breathing fast and hard. The shallow leaps his chest took rubbed him against her. "Spike!" He rode her against the alley wall. When she clenched him, her steely heat milking him, he cried out. When he exploded inside her she screamed and followed. Rip's cries were muffled against his shoulder. He kissed her throat softly, leisurely. "Mmmmm." Spike slid out of her wet, tight heat slowly. While he tugged down her skirt she zipped his pants. She chuckled, "Thanks for the quickie." He laughed and kissed her softly. His hands plunged into her long, honey hair, "You've let it grow out." She nodded as he kissed her again. "Spike, you don't have to do this." "What?" "Treat me like it mattered. You did it to save my ass." "What a nice ass it is." "Thank you, but it's not nice to lie." "Rip." He tipped her chin up, his velvety red-brown eyes delving into hers, "It always matters with you." She chuckled, "Sure, Spike. Sure, thing. I should go." Spike kissed her again. She sighed and returned the favor. "I want to see you again, Rip. I've missed you." Rip's lashes slowly fluttered up. "I sing at a club. I will be there the day after tomorrow. Mmmmm.It's a blues club. See me then." Spike nodded, squeezed her shoulders, and then let her go. The brush of her lips was so quick he barely felt it, and then she was gone.
* * *
Chapter 1 Ghosts from the past:
Spike walked up to the club doors. It was ladies night. Well, Jaded Ladies night, at least. He smiled, his target was here. When he walked into the club the first words he heard were: "Don't wanna be the one to pop your cherry girl." The hard sound of a guitar filled the room. The room was bursting with smoke and there were flashing lights of different colors. There were round tables in the room with poles. The women danced around on the tables, got tips, and usually walked off with a man of choice. "Knock on, knock on, the sky." One woman caught his eyes. She had all the right curves in all the right places. Her short hair was vibrant blue, and she had short cut bangs. The music continued on and her hips swung. The lady knew how to move, she was like a gypsy. She wore fish net hoes and high, high heels. Her skirt was short enough that if she bent the slightest bit you got the perfect view of a lifetime. She wore a tight black tube top; it matched the blue leather skirt in style. It was snug enough to make a man have a heart attack. She wasn't as busty as Fei, but she had more than enough, and her hips made up for it. Then again he had always been a hip and leg man. He liked something to hold onto. She wore black, elbow length gloves, he noticed. His eyes wandered up. When he saw her face his breath caught.
Those perfect brows over thick lush lashes, the perfect cheekbones and full, soft lips. When her eyes came up, he knew it was she. She stepped down and smiled at a man. Spike tried to push through the crowd, but he lost her. Random women grabbed his bottom and yelled, "Hey baby," but he was looking for her. Wait; he told himself, you're here for the bounty. Besides, it couldn't have been her. Spike continued to search for the target.
* * *
Her short blue hair was straight and reached her cheekbones. She had painted her face just right, with blue eye shadow, black liner, and red glossy lips. Her target was here. He came up to her and she stepped from the platform. He was a heavyset man, and not overly tall. But he held information. Now he was wanted and if he got caught, he would talk. She couldn't afford that. The fishnets were only thigh highs, so as he pushed her up on the wall he found her body ready for access. He fumbled with his pants and she smiled. She drew out the dagger while he was looking down. She stabbed it through his temple. The man's breath hitched and his pants fell to his ankles. He fell to the ground and she wiped the dagger clean on his pants. Her blue hair would have to go now. She stepped from the co- ed bathrooms and quickly walked away. The dagger was back between her breasts and shaped like a hair chopstick. Her gloves blocked any fingerprints and the wig would prove to leave no traces of hair. She turned her head as she walked through the people. What she saw shocked her, "Spike."
* * *
His eyes met hers across the room. When he made his way to her she slipped out to the alley. Spike ran after her. He looked around but nothing was there. He passed the dumpster and looked around. "Lookin' for me, Spike-o?" He froze, that rich soft voice slid through him. The low sound was one he would never forget, "Rip Tide." He turned to see her leaning against the half dumpster. The wig was gone, replaced by the fall of long, long honey hair. It waved and curled at the ends, so much like Julia's. She was tall, and even more so in the heels. "Hello again, Spike."
"What are you doing here, Rip?" She smiled softly, "You know my job, Spike. How have you been?" He watched her, "I'm doing. Looking for a bounty." Spike watched Rip's eyes narrow. He smiled, "That's who you were here to kill?" She didn't answer. He stepped close, "The Syndicate is dead, why are you still killing people for it?" She looked up at him, "It's not dead, Spike. You should know better. Just because He's gone doesn't mean the rest of us are." Spike touched her smooth cheek. He looked down and noticed she now wore knee length boots. The fishnet hoes and heels were gone. She wasn't wearing the eye shadow, either. "You're fast." She nodded, "I have to be." Spike heard the screams come from the club. "Spike let me go."
Rip watched him, begging to be freed, wanting to stay. "Why?" She sighed, "I should be long gone by now, Spike." He nodded. The authorities were showing up now. He heard the sirens. On a whim, Spike pushed her against the wall. He began to kiss her fiercely. He lifted her and her legs wrapped around his hips. He undid his pants and slammed into her. She cried out. He smiled wickedly, "Always prepared." She half laughed, "Underwear are so overrated." He began to rock, "I'm sorry, it's the only thing I could think of.oh.." She gasped, "I know. They wont be looking much at me now. You're my new.oooh.. alibi." He groaned and pressed deeper. They hadn't had any foreplay, he thought. He could be hurting her. His hand slid to the juncture at her thighs. He began to toy with her. She nipped his ear and laved it. "Spike." Two officers came up and stopped, watching. "Oh, God, RIP!"
One cop nudged the other, "What do ya think Rip stands for?" The dark haired cop shrugged, "Uh, Ripley?" The shorter cop nodded, "Yeah, Ripley. Damn, she looks good. Lucky bastard." They turned and walked away, but Spike didn't stop. He was breathing fast and hard. The shallow leaps his chest took rubbed him against her. "Spike!" He rode her against the alley wall. When she clenched him, her steely heat milking him, he cried out. When he exploded inside her she screamed and followed. Rip's cries were muffled against his shoulder. He kissed her throat softly, leisurely. "Mmmmm." Spike slid out of her wet, tight heat slowly. While he tugged down her skirt she zipped his pants. She chuckled, "Thanks for the quickie." He laughed and kissed her softly. His hands plunged into her long, honey hair, "You've let it grow out." She nodded as he kissed her again. "Spike, you don't have to do this." "What?" "Treat me like it mattered. You did it to save my ass." "What a nice ass it is." "Thank you, but it's not nice to lie." "Rip." He tipped her chin up, his velvety red-brown eyes delving into hers, "It always matters with you." She chuckled, "Sure, Spike. Sure, thing. I should go." Spike kissed her again. She sighed and returned the favor. "I want to see you again, Rip. I've missed you." Rip's lashes slowly fluttered up. "I sing at a club. I will be there the day after tomorrow. Mmmmm.It's a blues club. See me then." Spike nodded, squeezed her shoulders, and then let her go. The brush of her lips was so quick he barely felt it, and then she was gone.
* * *
