Session 3: De-ja-vu All Over Again
They both sat at the round table eating their soup. Outside they could hear children playing in the street, reminding Spike of his childhood. He was drawn out of his thoughts by the clicking of the latch being opened. As he turned he saw a very familiar man who was about as tall as he was and just as thin. He had fuzzy orange hair and was smoking a cigarette, exactly like the picture he had seen on the Bebop. He wore a worn leather jacket like Emily's. "Who are you?" he mumbled with the cigarette still in his mouth. "Russe, this is Aaron. Aaron, meet Russe." Spike got up and shook Russe's hand; he noticed Russe had one blue eye and one green. "You're Spike Spiegel." Spike looked at Russe through slit eyes, his hand went to his where his gun usually was, but it was still in his coat. "Who the fuck are you, some syndicate scumbag?" "No, I'm Shia's older brother. I hung out with you guys once or twice." Spike eyes went wide as he remembered images of he and Shia kissing behind the dumpsters. She had been his first love. "Wow, how do you remember me?" Russe shrugged and walked inside. "I jus have a good memory, that's all. Sides, its not that hard to remember your sister's first boyfriend, specially one with crazy green hair." Russe went to the stove and helped himself to some soup before kissing Emily and coming to the table. "I heard you were dead, guess they were wrong." "No, they were right. I am dead, so you didn't see me, I'm just a ghost." Russe nodded and sat down at the table. "So mister ghost, why have you decided to join us in our shabby, run- down apartment." "Your cat dragged me in," replied Spike "Dragged isn't really the word, you must weight about 70 pounds" chuckled Emily. "Not much more than I weigh" said Russe. All three laughed
ยทยทยท
That night, as spike lay on the sofa, he was flooded by memories. Something about this whole situation made him uneasy. He didn't want to turn Russe in, but he wasn't sure why. Jet had probably called him many times; his intercom was still in his coat. Sleep fell upon him like a heavy down blanket.
Spike was drowning. The sea was gold hair, the strands cutting into him, making him cry out in pain. Suddenly the hair turned black and he fell through onto a hard sofa where he heard someone softly humming a song. He knew that voice, he looked to the side expecting to see Julia but instead there was a black haired girl in a leather jacket playing cards. Spike got up and went to her; she was playing solitaire. She could win in two moves. He heard a noise coming from the bedroom door. As he turned around he saw an extremely bandaged Russe, rubbing his eyes and leaning against the doorframe. The blue of his left eye seemed to glow and suddenly it was Julia's. He saw a blurry Julia in an apron right before his face crashed into the pavement under the streetlight; and he woke up cold and sweating.
He didn't know who Russe or Emily was, but he knew he couldn't turn them
in.
They both sat at the round table eating their soup. Outside they could hear children playing in the street, reminding Spike of his childhood. He was drawn out of his thoughts by the clicking of the latch being opened. As he turned he saw a very familiar man who was about as tall as he was and just as thin. He had fuzzy orange hair and was smoking a cigarette, exactly like the picture he had seen on the Bebop. He wore a worn leather jacket like Emily's. "Who are you?" he mumbled with the cigarette still in his mouth. "Russe, this is Aaron. Aaron, meet Russe." Spike got up and shook Russe's hand; he noticed Russe had one blue eye and one green. "You're Spike Spiegel." Spike looked at Russe through slit eyes, his hand went to his where his gun usually was, but it was still in his coat. "Who the fuck are you, some syndicate scumbag?" "No, I'm Shia's older brother. I hung out with you guys once or twice." Spike eyes went wide as he remembered images of he and Shia kissing behind the dumpsters. She had been his first love. "Wow, how do you remember me?" Russe shrugged and walked inside. "I jus have a good memory, that's all. Sides, its not that hard to remember your sister's first boyfriend, specially one with crazy green hair." Russe went to the stove and helped himself to some soup before kissing Emily and coming to the table. "I heard you were dead, guess they were wrong." "No, they were right. I am dead, so you didn't see me, I'm just a ghost." Russe nodded and sat down at the table. "So mister ghost, why have you decided to join us in our shabby, run- down apartment." "Your cat dragged me in," replied Spike "Dragged isn't really the word, you must weight about 70 pounds" chuckled Emily. "Not much more than I weigh" said Russe. All three laughed
ยทยทยท
That night, as spike lay on the sofa, he was flooded by memories. Something about this whole situation made him uneasy. He didn't want to turn Russe in, but he wasn't sure why. Jet had probably called him many times; his intercom was still in his coat. Sleep fell upon him like a heavy down blanket.
Spike was drowning. The sea was gold hair, the strands cutting into him, making him cry out in pain. Suddenly the hair turned black and he fell through onto a hard sofa where he heard someone softly humming a song. He knew that voice, he looked to the side expecting to see Julia but instead there was a black haired girl in a leather jacket playing cards. Spike got up and went to her; she was playing solitaire. She could win in two moves. He heard a noise coming from the bedroom door. As he turned around he saw an extremely bandaged Russe, rubbing his eyes and leaning against the doorframe. The blue of his left eye seemed to glow and suddenly it was Julia's. He saw a blurry Julia in an apron right before his face crashed into the pavement under the streetlight; and he woke up cold and sweating.
He didn't know who Russe or Emily was, but he knew he couldn't turn them
in.