DISCLAIMER: I don't own Cowboy Bebop; Sunrise Inc. does. I do, however,
own this original story.
Beyond Beautiful
By The Lady Razorsharp
Lyrics: "Beyond Beautiful" by Aerosmith
Part 4: All Fall Down
Full on lust to full on love without no clue
And all I was so unsure of and then came you
Into my life it served me right
Nobody ever did it quite like you
It was a beautiful June morning, perfect for a wedding day.
Julia clutched her bouquet of red roses nervously, waiting in the happy crowd of bridesmaids clustered behind the foyer doors. The roses gave off a wonderful fragrance, and Julia brought them to her nose to inhale deeply of their scent.
"It's time!" came the excited whisper, and the doors swung open to reveal the nave. Every pew was packed full with well-wishers, all wildly happy to see Spike and Julia, the love match of the ages, wed each to their own heart's desire. She practically floated down the aisle as the pipe organ thundered a jubilant wedding march.
As she passed under the colored light streaming from the windows, Julia knew every eye was on her. The guests--each and every one dear to her, though she couldn't see their faces through the white sheen of her veil-- poured out their love to her and Spike with handfuls of rose petals. Her path was strewn with them; she walked towards her love on a carpet of fragrance.
He was standing there waiting for her at the altar steps. Tears of joy started at the corners of her eyes to see him there, looking so handsome in his white coat and black tie. The windows of the church shot rainbow colors through his verdant hair, turning his garnet eyes to prisms. Behind him, nearly crying themselves, were Lin and Shin, the dear twin boys. They had stood with Spike through thick and thin, and it touched her heart to see them still standing with him--only this time, for a celebration of life, instead of a gruesome hour of death. Annie and Mao were there, smiling their blessing on the young people they'd practically raised. Even the Elders were there, their heads bowed in silent, grave permission for this perfect union.
The priest standing at the top of the steps was wearing vestments of scarlet and gold, the sunlight turning his golden mitre into a blaze of glory. His crozier gleamed; the amethyst on his hand glowed with purple radiance as he brought his hand up to bless them. Spike slipped his hand into hers. The moment had come.
The light disappeared, as if someone had blown out the sun like a candle.
The priest threw his crozier to the ground, where it turned into a viper. Julia dropped her bouquet in surprise, rose petals splashing like droplets of blood on the floor. She looked frantically to Spike and the others, but they were standing like alabaster statues. Her breath stolen from her by horror, Julia backed away, tripping over the edge of the carpet.
The priest picked up the bouquet, shrugging off his heavy vestments to reveal Vicious in his usual Syndicate uniform. He pulled the bouquet apart, littering the carpet around his feet with the blooms, as he revealed a sub-machine gun hidden deep within her bouquet. Vicious calmly checked the clip and set his stance, pointing the muzzle right between Spike's eyes.
Vicious had suddenly grown a pair of huge, black-feathered wings. He was the angel of death, and his voice was like a wind that howled in dry, barren, loveless places. It was a voice from Hell. "Say goodbye, Julia."
Scrambling to her feet, she took two running steps and jumped toward Spike, her white satin shoes leaving the ground. "NOOOO!" she screamed, but the sound was cut off as bullets thudded into her chest, her throat, her side. Blood stained her white dress as the bullets traveled through her and into Spike. They fell together, side by side on the carpet. Their hands were slick with each other's blood as they twined their fingers together.
Spike's right eye opened to a slit, but blood seeped from under the lids on the left. "Just a dream," he whispered, and she knew he was dead.
Vicious was standing over her, his black wings sheltering her. He put the still-warm muzzle to her forehead, then pulled the trigger.
"Uhn!" Julia bolted upright in bed, sweat plastering her blond hair to her face and neck. Beside her, Spike stirred, opening his eyes and yawning. When he saw her sitting there, her blue eyes frozen wide with terror, he sat up and tried to gather her into his arms.
"Julia, what's wrong?" He tried to get her to look at him, but she pulled away from his touch. "Did you have a nightmare?"
"A premonition." She stared at him, her breath finally starting to slow back to normal. "Spike, I want you to tell Vicious you don't want to take part in the sting."
The Syndicate got a good deal of its funds from the sale of illegal drugs, but when rival gangs or upstart entrepreneurs tried to get into the act, the Syndicate took quick, decisive action. Tonight's sting operation was to be such a show of strength. "It's just another day at the office," Spike quipped. "If you want a nine-to-five guy, then you've fallen in love with the wrong person."
She knew it was hopeless to try and stop him. Spike loved the adrenaline rush from dodging bullets and showing his long middle finger to the face of death. She tried again; couldn't he change? Wasn't her love enough for him? "Spike…I dreamed of our wedding day."
That elicited a grin from the lanky young man, and he leaned back on the bed with his hands behind his head. "I can just imagine it." He glanced over at her, his face full of love for her. "You'd look so beautiful in a wedding dress."
Julia shook her head, tears flooding her eyes. "But it wasn't beautiful. Vicious killed everyone. He murdered us while we were standing at the altar."
There were a few moments of silence as Julia's words hung in the air like a black, murky cloud. When Spike spoke again, his voice was hollow. "They say if you die in your dreams, then you die for real. We're not dead."
She raised her head to look at him, sorrow weighing heavily on her pale shoulders. "Maybe were are. Maybe this is the dream."
He flicked his garnet gaze to her, his mouth set in a hard line. "All the more reason I have to go tonight. If I get killed, then I'll finally be able to wake up." Spike sat up, taking her face in his hands and wiping away her tears. "Then I'll wait for you to wake up, too."
* * *
She packed a suitcase for a quick getaway. If Spike died, Julia knew she couldn't bear to stay in the apartment where they'd spent so much time together. She wouldn't be able to sleep another night in the bed they'd made love in, never cook a meal or listen to the stereo or look out the window without thinking about him. So intent was she on finishing her task that the knock on the door startled her.
~Is it over already?~ she wondered, her heart suddenly in her throat. ~Have they come to tell me that he's dead?~ She moved toward the door as if underwater, her movements slow and fluid as she reached for the doorknob. A wave of reality crashed over her as she opened the door to reveal Vicious standing there, a small smile playing about his thin lips.
"Vicious! What are you doing here?" She stiffened, knowing instantly that those were the wrong words to say. He was her lover; he should be expected.
"Surprised to see me?" He stepped inside, hands in the pockets of his finely tailored pants, and she shut the door mechanically, as if she were a robot.
"No, not really. It's just that--"
"Just that it's usually Spike who comes knocking at your door," Vicious spat, his ice-blue eyes blazing with fury. He studied her at length, and Julia felt like an animal in a trap, caught by a hunter whose strategy was far beyond her puerile brain. "You've sealed his fate, Julia. You don't have a single clue about what events you've set in motion."
She snatched her hands up to her head, covering her ears. "Stop it!"
He was in her face, yanking her hands down by her wrists. "It WON'T stop, Julia! Not until we're all dead, do you understand?" He pushed her away so hard that she lost her balance and fell sprawling to the floor. "'The time will come when not one stone will be left on another; every one of them will be thrown down.'*" Vicious turned his cold eyes on Julia as she sat weeping on the floor. "This is what you have done."
There was another knock at the door, and Julia gasped. Vicious glanced at the door, then back at her. "Well. Aren't you going to let him in?"
* * *
Spike didn't smile when she opened the door. The light had gone from the room, casting everything in the blue shadows of twilight as he stepped inside. Just over the threshold, he stopped, his hands in his pockets. She noticed he had on a new suit, with a trenchcoat over all instead of his Syndicate uniform. He was meant to be the operative in the sting, posing as a buyer for the illegal drugs. As usual, he'd put himself in a position where he could get the maximum adrenaline jolt, but now he seemed leaden.
They stood there for what seemed like forever. Thunder rolled in the distance, and rain began to patter on the street outside. His voice, when he spoke, was almost indistinguishable from that low rumble in the sky.
"When this is over, I'm leaving the Syndicate."
Something in his eyes had changed. He knew something, had found out something. Had it been her dream? She thought she could hear Vicious' slow breathing on the other side of the door. How could she convince Spike that she had been so wrong?
"They'll kill you," she said in a desperate hush. "You know how they work."
He smiled grimly. "Hnh. Let them say I'm dead." He stretched out his hand, a slip of paper in his fingers. "I'll be waiting in the graveyard. BY the graves, not IN one of them."
~Yes, you will. And I've dug it with my own hands..~ "Spike…I can't come with you." She tried not to let her eyes flick toward the bedroom door behind him.
"Yes you can. We'll leave here. And get out of this."
She was so tired all of a sudden. So tired… "And go where?" she asked him wearily. "And do what?"
Spike's eyes glittered in the low light. "Live. Be free. It'll be like watching a dream." His hand was still holding the note. She realized the slip of paper was the key to her freedom--either they truly could escape, or they would both be killed. Either way, they'd be free. He was right.
Julia reached out, her fingers brushing his as she took the note from him.
* * *
No sooner than the door had closed behind Spike than the gun thudded against her scalp, the cold metal nosing through her golden hair to touch her skin.
"So. You were going to betray me." His voice was barely audible above the rain. "Did you really think you could just leave?"
"Vicious--"
"Keep dreaming, Julia. It's never going to happen."
Julia went cold. She turned toward him, daring him to put a bullet between her eyes. "Are you going to kill him?" ~And if you are, just kill me now, so I can be waiting for him.~
He smiled. She felt sick, remembering how she'd found his smile full of mystery at the beginning, like he had secrets to share just with her. "I won't." He pulled the gun away from her head and laid it on the table. "You're going to do it for me."
She jerked, feeling invisible bullets plow their way into her heart.
Vicious actually looked like he was enjoying himself. "Either you kill him, or you both die. Those are your only options."
The gun was still lying on the table where Vicious left it. For an instant, Julia considered throwing it through the window, smashing the glass into a million pieces. Instead, she picked up Spike's note, feeling the creases his fingers had folded just a few moments ago. She brought the paper to her lips and kissed it, then ripped it into pieces. She opened the window and let the bits of paper fall to the ground, where they drifted like rose petals to the sidewalk.
* Luke 21:6, NIV
Beyond Beautiful
By The Lady Razorsharp
Lyrics: "Beyond Beautiful" by Aerosmith
Part 4: All Fall Down
Full on lust to full on love without no clue
And all I was so unsure of and then came you
Into my life it served me right
Nobody ever did it quite like you
It was a beautiful June morning, perfect for a wedding day.
Julia clutched her bouquet of red roses nervously, waiting in the happy crowd of bridesmaids clustered behind the foyer doors. The roses gave off a wonderful fragrance, and Julia brought them to her nose to inhale deeply of their scent.
"It's time!" came the excited whisper, and the doors swung open to reveal the nave. Every pew was packed full with well-wishers, all wildly happy to see Spike and Julia, the love match of the ages, wed each to their own heart's desire. She practically floated down the aisle as the pipe organ thundered a jubilant wedding march.
As she passed under the colored light streaming from the windows, Julia knew every eye was on her. The guests--each and every one dear to her, though she couldn't see their faces through the white sheen of her veil-- poured out their love to her and Spike with handfuls of rose petals. Her path was strewn with them; she walked towards her love on a carpet of fragrance.
He was standing there waiting for her at the altar steps. Tears of joy started at the corners of her eyes to see him there, looking so handsome in his white coat and black tie. The windows of the church shot rainbow colors through his verdant hair, turning his garnet eyes to prisms. Behind him, nearly crying themselves, were Lin and Shin, the dear twin boys. They had stood with Spike through thick and thin, and it touched her heart to see them still standing with him--only this time, for a celebration of life, instead of a gruesome hour of death. Annie and Mao were there, smiling their blessing on the young people they'd practically raised. Even the Elders were there, their heads bowed in silent, grave permission for this perfect union.
The priest standing at the top of the steps was wearing vestments of scarlet and gold, the sunlight turning his golden mitre into a blaze of glory. His crozier gleamed; the amethyst on his hand glowed with purple radiance as he brought his hand up to bless them. Spike slipped his hand into hers. The moment had come.
The light disappeared, as if someone had blown out the sun like a candle.
The priest threw his crozier to the ground, where it turned into a viper. Julia dropped her bouquet in surprise, rose petals splashing like droplets of blood on the floor. She looked frantically to Spike and the others, but they were standing like alabaster statues. Her breath stolen from her by horror, Julia backed away, tripping over the edge of the carpet.
The priest picked up the bouquet, shrugging off his heavy vestments to reveal Vicious in his usual Syndicate uniform. He pulled the bouquet apart, littering the carpet around his feet with the blooms, as he revealed a sub-machine gun hidden deep within her bouquet. Vicious calmly checked the clip and set his stance, pointing the muzzle right between Spike's eyes.
Vicious had suddenly grown a pair of huge, black-feathered wings. He was the angel of death, and his voice was like a wind that howled in dry, barren, loveless places. It was a voice from Hell. "Say goodbye, Julia."
Scrambling to her feet, she took two running steps and jumped toward Spike, her white satin shoes leaving the ground. "NOOOO!" she screamed, but the sound was cut off as bullets thudded into her chest, her throat, her side. Blood stained her white dress as the bullets traveled through her and into Spike. They fell together, side by side on the carpet. Their hands were slick with each other's blood as they twined their fingers together.
Spike's right eye opened to a slit, but blood seeped from under the lids on the left. "Just a dream," he whispered, and she knew he was dead.
Vicious was standing over her, his black wings sheltering her. He put the still-warm muzzle to her forehead, then pulled the trigger.
"Uhn!" Julia bolted upright in bed, sweat plastering her blond hair to her face and neck. Beside her, Spike stirred, opening his eyes and yawning. When he saw her sitting there, her blue eyes frozen wide with terror, he sat up and tried to gather her into his arms.
"Julia, what's wrong?" He tried to get her to look at him, but she pulled away from his touch. "Did you have a nightmare?"
"A premonition." She stared at him, her breath finally starting to slow back to normal. "Spike, I want you to tell Vicious you don't want to take part in the sting."
The Syndicate got a good deal of its funds from the sale of illegal drugs, but when rival gangs or upstart entrepreneurs tried to get into the act, the Syndicate took quick, decisive action. Tonight's sting operation was to be such a show of strength. "It's just another day at the office," Spike quipped. "If you want a nine-to-five guy, then you've fallen in love with the wrong person."
She knew it was hopeless to try and stop him. Spike loved the adrenaline rush from dodging bullets and showing his long middle finger to the face of death. She tried again; couldn't he change? Wasn't her love enough for him? "Spike…I dreamed of our wedding day."
That elicited a grin from the lanky young man, and he leaned back on the bed with his hands behind his head. "I can just imagine it." He glanced over at her, his face full of love for her. "You'd look so beautiful in a wedding dress."
Julia shook her head, tears flooding her eyes. "But it wasn't beautiful. Vicious killed everyone. He murdered us while we were standing at the altar."
There were a few moments of silence as Julia's words hung in the air like a black, murky cloud. When Spike spoke again, his voice was hollow. "They say if you die in your dreams, then you die for real. We're not dead."
She raised her head to look at him, sorrow weighing heavily on her pale shoulders. "Maybe were are. Maybe this is the dream."
He flicked his garnet gaze to her, his mouth set in a hard line. "All the more reason I have to go tonight. If I get killed, then I'll finally be able to wake up." Spike sat up, taking her face in his hands and wiping away her tears. "Then I'll wait for you to wake up, too."
* * *
She packed a suitcase for a quick getaway. If Spike died, Julia knew she couldn't bear to stay in the apartment where they'd spent so much time together. She wouldn't be able to sleep another night in the bed they'd made love in, never cook a meal or listen to the stereo or look out the window without thinking about him. So intent was she on finishing her task that the knock on the door startled her.
~Is it over already?~ she wondered, her heart suddenly in her throat. ~Have they come to tell me that he's dead?~ She moved toward the door as if underwater, her movements slow and fluid as she reached for the doorknob. A wave of reality crashed over her as she opened the door to reveal Vicious standing there, a small smile playing about his thin lips.
"Vicious! What are you doing here?" She stiffened, knowing instantly that those were the wrong words to say. He was her lover; he should be expected.
"Surprised to see me?" He stepped inside, hands in the pockets of his finely tailored pants, and she shut the door mechanically, as if she were a robot.
"No, not really. It's just that--"
"Just that it's usually Spike who comes knocking at your door," Vicious spat, his ice-blue eyes blazing with fury. He studied her at length, and Julia felt like an animal in a trap, caught by a hunter whose strategy was far beyond her puerile brain. "You've sealed his fate, Julia. You don't have a single clue about what events you've set in motion."
She snatched her hands up to her head, covering her ears. "Stop it!"
He was in her face, yanking her hands down by her wrists. "It WON'T stop, Julia! Not until we're all dead, do you understand?" He pushed her away so hard that she lost her balance and fell sprawling to the floor. "'The time will come when not one stone will be left on another; every one of them will be thrown down.'*" Vicious turned his cold eyes on Julia as she sat weeping on the floor. "This is what you have done."
There was another knock at the door, and Julia gasped. Vicious glanced at the door, then back at her. "Well. Aren't you going to let him in?"
* * *
Spike didn't smile when she opened the door. The light had gone from the room, casting everything in the blue shadows of twilight as he stepped inside. Just over the threshold, he stopped, his hands in his pockets. She noticed he had on a new suit, with a trenchcoat over all instead of his Syndicate uniform. He was meant to be the operative in the sting, posing as a buyer for the illegal drugs. As usual, he'd put himself in a position where he could get the maximum adrenaline jolt, but now he seemed leaden.
They stood there for what seemed like forever. Thunder rolled in the distance, and rain began to patter on the street outside. His voice, when he spoke, was almost indistinguishable from that low rumble in the sky.
"When this is over, I'm leaving the Syndicate."
Something in his eyes had changed. He knew something, had found out something. Had it been her dream? She thought she could hear Vicious' slow breathing on the other side of the door. How could she convince Spike that she had been so wrong?
"They'll kill you," she said in a desperate hush. "You know how they work."
He smiled grimly. "Hnh. Let them say I'm dead." He stretched out his hand, a slip of paper in his fingers. "I'll be waiting in the graveyard. BY the graves, not IN one of them."
~Yes, you will. And I've dug it with my own hands..~ "Spike…I can't come with you." She tried not to let her eyes flick toward the bedroom door behind him.
"Yes you can. We'll leave here. And get out of this."
She was so tired all of a sudden. So tired… "And go where?" she asked him wearily. "And do what?"
Spike's eyes glittered in the low light. "Live. Be free. It'll be like watching a dream." His hand was still holding the note. She realized the slip of paper was the key to her freedom--either they truly could escape, or they would both be killed. Either way, they'd be free. He was right.
Julia reached out, her fingers brushing his as she took the note from him.
* * *
No sooner than the door had closed behind Spike than the gun thudded against her scalp, the cold metal nosing through her golden hair to touch her skin.
"So. You were going to betray me." His voice was barely audible above the rain. "Did you really think you could just leave?"
"Vicious--"
"Keep dreaming, Julia. It's never going to happen."
Julia went cold. She turned toward him, daring him to put a bullet between her eyes. "Are you going to kill him?" ~And if you are, just kill me now, so I can be waiting for him.~
He smiled. She felt sick, remembering how she'd found his smile full of mystery at the beginning, like he had secrets to share just with her. "I won't." He pulled the gun away from her head and laid it on the table. "You're going to do it for me."
She jerked, feeling invisible bullets plow their way into her heart.
Vicious actually looked like he was enjoying himself. "Either you kill him, or you both die. Those are your only options."
The gun was still lying on the table where Vicious left it. For an instant, Julia considered throwing it through the window, smashing the glass into a million pieces. Instead, she picked up Spike's note, feeling the creases his fingers had folded just a few moments ago. She brought the paper to her lips and kissed it, then ripped it into pieces. She opened the window and let the bits of paper fall to the ground, where they drifted like rose petals to the sidewalk.
* Luke 21:6, NIV