{As always Bebop is not mine. So that means Spike is not mine
either...but.*swiftly dashes away with Spike...*cough* anyways ^. ^, sorry
for the long absence. Between school and writers block. I had trouble
putting this together. And I am sorry if I disappointed you with the last
one, there was so much I had to fit into one chapter with that. So without
Further a due {sp? Ex.}.}
Chapter Three- Answers
As soon as Spike had peered at the staircase, abruptly those pair of emerald orbs where gone and he had a mass of orange and grins tangled around him.
"Ed?..." spike said as he tried to get as much air as he could into his lungs even with this kid named Ed was wrapped around him in death hold. Yet, Edward was no longer a girl.
The arms unwrapped themselves around spike, leaving him a brief moment to catch his breath, until those emerald eyes where once again placed at his mismatched ones.
"So Spike, Faye was right." the woman said with a large grin as she stepped back from his face, allowing him to get a full glance at her, "You do have a cyber eye."
As Ed stepped back, he took in all her details. He could not believe it was her, she still had the large piercing green orbs, but she really would not longer be called a carrot top. Her hair had grown out past her shoulders, and she was obviously taller, and well, bustier.
Spike ran his fingers as best as he could through his green hair, "Uh, Ed.is that really you?" he asked in a tone of dismay.
For a few moments Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky 4th seemed to contemplate, and then giggled, and twice she repeated, "Lunk-head" in the most childish voice she could muster. "Lunk-head, Faye-Faye moved somewhere but Jet person is upstairs!" she then ran around him like she would have those twenty or so year ago and went off somewhere in this huge mansion.
"Mr. Spiegel, "he heard the butler say in the most aristocratic voice that one could imagine, "Mr. Jet Black is waiting to speak to you upstairs. This way please."
The green haired man had that urge to go look around, one that anyone on the bebop could recognize as the look of, 'I am about to become a mummy'. Yet at the same time there was that urge to go and see how his comrade was doing, what he looked like in the course of twenty years. So it was a few seconds till he realized that he was all alone in the foyer and with that, his long, stick like legs carried him up the stairs, about three steps in a stride just to catch up to the quick paced butler.
Before him was now a long corridor, an array of doors on either side, one could only guess where they led too. And at the end of this corridor, and obviously to where the butler was headed, was a large double door. Holding carvings that seemed to be made from the most professional, of professionals, if there is even such a thing.
The butler stopped and with one hand he opened a large door, and nodded, yet still held that look of disgust to the awkward looking man with a the goofy grin. "Mr. Spiegel, you may enter"
Spike took a deep breath, excitement, yet a dismal feeling for the worst seemed to creep through his stomach the whole time. Jet was getting old, for all Spike knew; he could be in his thoughtfully large bed, covered in a million blankets, paler then usual, and be coughing the whole time. Yet, through these dismal trails of thought, Spike also remembered Jet. He was a very masculine man, although he been through much, you could see that will to live in his aging eyes. The look for the will to live and that was something Spike himself was not known for having, even though he could be as determined as one could get at times.
Taking a deep breath, he took a step into the room, being almost swamped with light from a large window that faced the setting sun. Lifting an arm Spike glanced about, before realizing that it would probably best to move into the slight shadows and away form the sun's glare. And waiting for a few moments he let those pesky dots disappear form his eyes that one would get after they took a passing glance at the sun or a light bulb at that matter.
"SPIKE!" A familiar voice announced, "Damn, I can't believe it."
The green hair man lowered his arm and peered to his right only to a see Jet dashing towards him, and just like Ed had done moments ago, he had a death grip around his somewhat frail looking body.
And hearing spike seem to struggle to breath through the grip he had around him, he released him, allowing him to breathe once again. After a brief second, Spike put his hands in his pockets, like he normally would, and went form his almost lurched position to one more comfortable on a couch. And that is where he began to take in Jet's details, like he had done before with Edward. To his eyes, Jet did not look all that much different, accept his get up and, he had trimmed his bear back, to where it did not have those little points below the cheekbone. "Well..Uh.what have you been up to Jet?" Spike kept his eyes squarely on him, until he got finished with all his details and started to snoop about, which more then likely end in him breaking something like his normal klutzy self would. "Well Spike, you look no different. Hard to imagine its been twenty years." Jet ended with grin that curved his lips only slightly. "I have been frozen." Spike said with a grumble, now having his eyes off the far older Jet and onto the many items that where held in his bedroom. "Yes I know, "the elder man said almost mockingly, "I was just teasing.for I was the one paying for it after all the 136 million woolongs" Spike had that awe struck look in his face as he heard the price of his freezing announced outwards to him. Almost struck to the point where he almost dropped the porcelain figurine in his fingers. "How the hell did you stir up that much.How the hell did you get this much cash in the first place! Why the hell did you not let me die!!!" "It was either being paralyzed for the rest of your life or, this." Jet said as he took a seat, the smile fading and drifting into a light frown. Jet, during the few moments of silence and spike snooping about had acquired a cane which he now held in both palms, keeping his hands up while he remained in the position comfortably. And as well Spike, got that look in his eyes, a questioning look of both fright and wonder. "What do you mean?" Another few moments of silence passed until Jet gathered his thoughts into words, "The wounds you received with Vicious where indeed large, to the point where little could be done. Yet surprisingly enough when the ambulances arrived to pick up the deceased, you where still alive, your heart beating even though so little blood was left in your veins. It just shows you how resilient you are." After that comment he seemed to laugh, but this laugh seemed to get Spike even more agitated then he already was. "Cut to the chase!" Spike growled as he clenched a fist. All of this was so annoying to him. His death would have been right, the way a cowboy was supposed to die, with those finale words that made loved ones want to cry and those who did not even know him seem to freeze. "Though your heart was beating you where diagnosed dead, at least too a few, your heart and lungs where barely moving. Yet, it was only a day afterwards that all your vital systems seemed to rejuvenate. But the thing was Spike, even though you where still breathing, your muscles would be useless, they also thought you would be brain dead with the lack of oxygen but that was until you opened your eyes and peered around for the smallest of seconds. So even though you drifted into a very heavy sleep after that, the examined your body, they tested your reflexes and there was no motion, at least not in your gangly legs. So there is where the choices came up, Cryogenic freezing, or life long penalization. And I think I know which you would have preferred" Jet was right; he would rather be out and about then stuck in a wheel chair for the rest of his life and relying on other to do things for him. "So how is Faye?" spike asked as he once again began to snoop around the artifacts which where probably deemed priceless. "She is good, form what I last heard. Have a family and a few kids. Two boys and she say one reminds her to much of you, always getting into trouble. And having injuries tended."
The man blinked, really, he was unsure if to laugh or just smile, or nothing at all. "Faye having kids. And a family. Never saw that comin'." And at last, he managed to give a slight chuckle and so did jet, who then peered out the window. Then, something came up. The window, smothered in blood, written with a saying that Vicious seemed more then pleased to say when the time was right. "So, how did you get the money.?" Spike asked in a silent tone as he peered to the side. That's when Jet stood and began to approach. There was a look in jet's eyes that mad him uncomfortable, the look that would make him one who would be untrustworthy with first glance. "The doctors also said that if you use too much energy you will first get weak.then collapse Spike." Jet still was approaching. Spike, scowled, there was something about Jet; something had changed about him during the twenty year course. "The money Jet.how did you get it?" "You know Vicious IS still alive; he went through the same process as you." Jet sighed as he turned his gaze back outside. The sun was now just under the horizon, giving off an eerie hew to the cloudless sky. "Yeah, he gave me a message.how did you know? You still have not told me how you got the money! " Spike abruptly took a step back, from experience and just plain instincts he knew what was coming. "The red Dragon Crime syndicate has been reborn, they paid me to put you in cryogenic sleep, and if I refused they would kill me. You would be surprised how much one-hundred and thirty-six million woolongs comes up too next to next to a few billion; the same goes for when they pay me to end your life." Spike growled, "All this money has gone to your head bud." He really did not know what to do. Jet was a great friend and comrade as well as someone he trusted, one of the very few he did. And now, the money had obviously gone to his head. "Sorry Bud.Jet said as he turned his head away, but at the same time pointing the gun at Spike's head. Then an all too common bam was heard, and a bullet was fired.
Chapter Three- Answers
As soon as Spike had peered at the staircase, abruptly those pair of emerald orbs where gone and he had a mass of orange and grins tangled around him.
"Ed?..." spike said as he tried to get as much air as he could into his lungs even with this kid named Ed was wrapped around him in death hold. Yet, Edward was no longer a girl.
The arms unwrapped themselves around spike, leaving him a brief moment to catch his breath, until those emerald eyes where once again placed at his mismatched ones.
"So Spike, Faye was right." the woman said with a large grin as she stepped back from his face, allowing him to get a full glance at her, "You do have a cyber eye."
As Ed stepped back, he took in all her details. He could not believe it was her, she still had the large piercing green orbs, but she really would not longer be called a carrot top. Her hair had grown out past her shoulders, and she was obviously taller, and well, bustier.
Spike ran his fingers as best as he could through his green hair, "Uh, Ed.is that really you?" he asked in a tone of dismay.
For a few moments Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky 4th seemed to contemplate, and then giggled, and twice she repeated, "Lunk-head" in the most childish voice she could muster. "Lunk-head, Faye-Faye moved somewhere but Jet person is upstairs!" she then ran around him like she would have those twenty or so year ago and went off somewhere in this huge mansion.
"Mr. Spiegel, "he heard the butler say in the most aristocratic voice that one could imagine, "Mr. Jet Black is waiting to speak to you upstairs. This way please."
The green haired man had that urge to go look around, one that anyone on the bebop could recognize as the look of, 'I am about to become a mummy'. Yet at the same time there was that urge to go and see how his comrade was doing, what he looked like in the course of twenty years. So it was a few seconds till he realized that he was all alone in the foyer and with that, his long, stick like legs carried him up the stairs, about three steps in a stride just to catch up to the quick paced butler.
Before him was now a long corridor, an array of doors on either side, one could only guess where they led too. And at the end of this corridor, and obviously to where the butler was headed, was a large double door. Holding carvings that seemed to be made from the most professional, of professionals, if there is even such a thing.
The butler stopped and with one hand he opened a large door, and nodded, yet still held that look of disgust to the awkward looking man with a the goofy grin. "Mr. Spiegel, you may enter"
Spike took a deep breath, excitement, yet a dismal feeling for the worst seemed to creep through his stomach the whole time. Jet was getting old, for all Spike knew; he could be in his thoughtfully large bed, covered in a million blankets, paler then usual, and be coughing the whole time. Yet, through these dismal trails of thought, Spike also remembered Jet. He was a very masculine man, although he been through much, you could see that will to live in his aging eyes. The look for the will to live and that was something Spike himself was not known for having, even though he could be as determined as one could get at times.
Taking a deep breath, he took a step into the room, being almost swamped with light from a large window that faced the setting sun. Lifting an arm Spike glanced about, before realizing that it would probably best to move into the slight shadows and away form the sun's glare. And waiting for a few moments he let those pesky dots disappear form his eyes that one would get after they took a passing glance at the sun or a light bulb at that matter.
"SPIKE!" A familiar voice announced, "Damn, I can't believe it."
The green hair man lowered his arm and peered to his right only to a see Jet dashing towards him, and just like Ed had done moments ago, he had a death grip around his somewhat frail looking body.
And hearing spike seem to struggle to breath through the grip he had around him, he released him, allowing him to breathe once again. After a brief second, Spike put his hands in his pockets, like he normally would, and went form his almost lurched position to one more comfortable on a couch. And that is where he began to take in Jet's details, like he had done before with Edward. To his eyes, Jet did not look all that much different, accept his get up and, he had trimmed his bear back, to where it did not have those little points below the cheekbone. "Well..Uh.what have you been up to Jet?" Spike kept his eyes squarely on him, until he got finished with all his details and started to snoop about, which more then likely end in him breaking something like his normal klutzy self would. "Well Spike, you look no different. Hard to imagine its been twenty years." Jet ended with grin that curved his lips only slightly. "I have been frozen." Spike said with a grumble, now having his eyes off the far older Jet and onto the many items that where held in his bedroom. "Yes I know, "the elder man said almost mockingly, "I was just teasing.for I was the one paying for it after all the 136 million woolongs" Spike had that awe struck look in his face as he heard the price of his freezing announced outwards to him. Almost struck to the point where he almost dropped the porcelain figurine in his fingers. "How the hell did you stir up that much.How the hell did you get this much cash in the first place! Why the hell did you not let me die!!!" "It was either being paralyzed for the rest of your life or, this." Jet said as he took a seat, the smile fading and drifting into a light frown. Jet, during the few moments of silence and spike snooping about had acquired a cane which he now held in both palms, keeping his hands up while he remained in the position comfortably. And as well Spike, got that look in his eyes, a questioning look of both fright and wonder. "What do you mean?" Another few moments of silence passed until Jet gathered his thoughts into words, "The wounds you received with Vicious where indeed large, to the point where little could be done. Yet surprisingly enough when the ambulances arrived to pick up the deceased, you where still alive, your heart beating even though so little blood was left in your veins. It just shows you how resilient you are." After that comment he seemed to laugh, but this laugh seemed to get Spike even more agitated then he already was. "Cut to the chase!" Spike growled as he clenched a fist. All of this was so annoying to him. His death would have been right, the way a cowboy was supposed to die, with those finale words that made loved ones want to cry and those who did not even know him seem to freeze. "Though your heart was beating you where diagnosed dead, at least too a few, your heart and lungs where barely moving. Yet, it was only a day afterwards that all your vital systems seemed to rejuvenate. But the thing was Spike, even though you where still breathing, your muscles would be useless, they also thought you would be brain dead with the lack of oxygen but that was until you opened your eyes and peered around for the smallest of seconds. So even though you drifted into a very heavy sleep after that, the examined your body, they tested your reflexes and there was no motion, at least not in your gangly legs. So there is where the choices came up, Cryogenic freezing, or life long penalization. And I think I know which you would have preferred" Jet was right; he would rather be out and about then stuck in a wheel chair for the rest of his life and relying on other to do things for him. "So how is Faye?" spike asked as he once again began to snoop around the artifacts which where probably deemed priceless. "She is good, form what I last heard. Have a family and a few kids. Two boys and she say one reminds her to much of you, always getting into trouble. And having injuries tended."
The man blinked, really, he was unsure if to laugh or just smile, or nothing at all. "Faye having kids. And a family. Never saw that comin'." And at last, he managed to give a slight chuckle and so did jet, who then peered out the window. Then, something came up. The window, smothered in blood, written with a saying that Vicious seemed more then pleased to say when the time was right. "So, how did you get the money.?" Spike asked in a silent tone as he peered to the side. That's when Jet stood and began to approach. There was a look in jet's eyes that mad him uncomfortable, the look that would make him one who would be untrustworthy with first glance. "The doctors also said that if you use too much energy you will first get weak.then collapse Spike." Jet still was approaching. Spike, scowled, there was something about Jet; something had changed about him during the twenty year course. "The money Jet.how did you get it?" "You know Vicious IS still alive; he went through the same process as you." Jet sighed as he turned his gaze back outside. The sun was now just under the horizon, giving off an eerie hew to the cloudless sky. "Yeah, he gave me a message.how did you know? You still have not told me how you got the money! " Spike abruptly took a step back, from experience and just plain instincts he knew what was coming. "The red Dragon Crime syndicate has been reborn, they paid me to put you in cryogenic sleep, and if I refused they would kill me. You would be surprised how much one-hundred and thirty-six million woolongs comes up too next to next to a few billion; the same goes for when they pay me to end your life." Spike growled, "All this money has gone to your head bud." He really did not know what to do. Jet was a great friend and comrade as well as someone he trusted, one of the very few he did. And now, the money had obviously gone to his head. "Sorry Bud.Jet said as he turned his head away, but at the same time pointing the gun at Spike's head. Then an all too common bam was heard, and a bullet was fired.