A/N: I know, I know. I should finish all my other stories before I start another one, but the idea was so good, I couldn't resist! Anyways, I'll probably never finish this, true to all my others, but I can try right?
DICLAIMER: Roses are red, violets are blue, me no own, so you no sue!
Anyways, this takes place right after the 'Bang' scene in ep. 26. Spike didn't die, he's just passed out. So relax, read, and enjoy!
"Bang…" Spike Spiegel said, his casual smirk ghosting across his features. Without another word, he collapsed forward on the stairs.
"SPIKE!" came a scream, and a woman shoved through the crowd to run over to the fallen man. She was medium height, with short violet hair and emerald green eyes. She wore a two-piece yellow vinyl set, a red sweater draped over her arms, thigh highs, and white boots. As she checked Spike's vital signs, every man within eyesight focused in on her teeny-tiny hotpants.
With relief written across her face, she sat back on her heels and looked up at the stunned onlookers. "He's alive," she said, smiling. "Just unconscious."
Suddenly, the men were significantly less amused. In fact, they looked down right menacing. "Oh shit…" she muttered. "I suppose that wasn't what they wanted to hear…"
But just then, an old fishing ship zoomed overhead. "FAYE!" a loud voice on the loudspeaker shouted. "Grab him, and get the hell in here!"
The ship dropped to a landing, and Faye hoisted the man onto her shoulder, quickly staggering over towards the ship. She pulled a Glock out (from where, I have no idea), and cleared a swathe through the ranks of the stunned Red Dragons. "MOVE IT!" she bellowed, gesturing with the gun. And obediently, no one else strayed into her way.
Once inside the Bebop, Faye deposited her burden into Jet Black's waiting arms, to lean back against the wall. "He's still breathing, but he's pretty messed up. I don't know how long he'll last."
Jet strode into the common room, laying Spike gently out on the couch. "Watch him." was all he said, before disappearing into the cockpit.
Puzzled but obedient, Faye fished the emergency first aid kit out from under the low table. But after staring at the white box, she chucked it across the room. Spike's injuries were bad enough that they needed what Faye had aptly dubbed as 'The OhShitSpikeFuckedHimselfUpAgain Kit'. She produced the large red crate from behind the couch, and flipped it open, revealing pliers, fishing line, several needles, scissors, towels, acres of bandages, syringes, anesthesia, and several bottles of cheap alcohol. She quickly set to work, cutting Spike's clothes away from the worst of the wounds while she waited for Jet to return.
Meanwhile, Jet was glaring at the comm. screen, where a screensaver accompanied by Supermarket Muzak obscured his view. "I hate hold music…" he grumbled.
Just then, the inside of a cubicle flickered into view and the hokey music shut off. A young officer was facing away from the screen, feet on his desk, looking at a magazine, the contents of which Jet didn't even want to imagine.
"What!" the guy growled, without even looking up.
Annoyed, Jet bunched his fists. "I need to speak with Bob. Patch me through." He commanded.
The guy laughed rudely. "Ain't we polite. By the Black Dog, who d'ya think you are?! Jet Black?!"
Jet grinned and cleared his throat. "I'm glad you got my name right."
The young officer spun around in his chair, looking peeved, but when he saw Jet's cragged visage, the color dropped from his face. "Mr. Black, sir! I'm sorry, sir, I'll patch you through right now!"
Instantly, Jet's old friend replaced the nervous deputy. "Jet…" Bob greeted. "What do you want now?"
He didn't even crack a smile. "Bob, I need your help. My two friends need to hide out for a while, where they can't be found."
Bob frowned. "Jet, I know I've helped you before, in things that are less than lawful, but I have to draw the line at covering up tracks for the very people we're looking for!"
Jet leaned in close to the monitor. "Bob. You know me better than that. These friends of mine just blew up the headquarters of the Red Dragon Syndicate and killed all semblance of leaders therein!"
Bob sat up, startled. "You say they destroyed the Red Dragon?" At Jet's nod, he spun around in his chair. "Mulloy! Greely! I've got two more for Witness Protection! Code 4!" he turned back to the monitor. "We'll pick 'em up in Tijuana at 8 pm sharp, on the corner of Duffy and Decker. Don't be late." the screen flickered out, leaving Jet in darkness, a peculiar look on his face.
"You want me to WHAT?!" Faye screeched, leaping to her feet as if bitten.
"Faye calm down," Jet cautioned. "It's just for a few months, until things die down." He was standing across the room from her, and kept one anxious eye on Spike's half-bandaged and unconscious form.
But Faye would not be calmed. "Why? I don't want to just up and move! I don't want to change my identity!"
One of Jet's eyebrows slowly rose towards his scalp. "Why not? Haven't you done it before, Poker Alice?" seeing her start, an ironic smile grew on his face. "And it's not like there's something holding you here, now is there?" he sank down into the chair across from her. "Besides, Spike isn't fully healed yet, and knowing him he'll get in trouble and get himself messed up again. I need someone to watch him, or at least patch him up when he collapses on the doorstep." Seeing Faye's resistance slowly breaking, he added a last plea. "He needs someone, Faye. I know he respects you, or at least listens when you talk. You know he can't do it by himself. So what do you say?"
Faye wavered for a moment, then shook her head. "Sorry, Jet. He's deserted me one time too many. He wanted to be alone, so now he can reap what he sowed." She blinked, and wrinkled her nose. "Where did that come from?! Ugh. Anyways, Spike's on his own, as far as I'm concerned." Carefully not meeting Jet's eyes, she stood and walked towards her room.
But as she passed the couch, there was a moan and one of Spike's eyes cracked open. It was a lighter one – and the only one not covered in bandages – which swiveled around the room, before settling on Faye. "Hey…" he whispered. "Sorry…to be…such a…bother…" his eye drifted closed again.
Faye stood, staring down at him for quite some time, before turning back to Jet. "I can be ready in half an hour."
A/N: Well? Like it? Hate it? Tell me, savvy?
