Hello there, faithful reader! Tis Sweet Garbonzo greeting you. I happen to be one of those easily distracted types of writer. I can never write more than a few pages, so obviously, I'm stuck with a lot of one shots. So I decided to collaborate all my various writings and bring them all together for one big sucky fan fiction! Wooot!

So here it is, starting with: Ace and Joker!
AN: I wrote this a while back, and although it's not my favorite, it's not too bad. It's one of my a day in the life pieces. I like to explore the culture and lifestyle of the people living in the time of Cowboy Bebop. This is one of them. Enjoy.

Barstools, tables, and tempers went flying across the room. Bodies were being injured in this
brawl along with a lot of pride. All the while she hid behind the bar next to the bartender.
Her cheeks were flushed, and she had spilled a customer's drink all over her blouse.

"This your first?" the bartender shouted casually over the din. She nodded her head, and
he poured her a glass of whisky. "Here! This'll calm your nerves."

She closed her eyes and shook her head. He shrugged and bolted the sharp drink himself.

"Does this happen very often?" She yelled.

"All the time," He replied. He pushed her down to the ground behind the bar. "We should
stay down here until its over. Its safer."

"What?!"

"Safer!!"

Three days after moving to the big city and one hour after getting her first job, and she
was already near tears. She rubbed her name tag bearing 'Tina' dry and flinched as a
bottle crashed next to her. The bartender patted her on the shoulder.

"Don't worry about it! Its just some stupid kid challenging Ace." She wasn't sure who
exactly 'Ace' was, but he seemed a force to be reckoned with. She could hear cries of
pain on the other side of her shelter, and she was glad she was behind it.

After a few more minutes of waiting, the bartender supposed it was time to emerge. The
both of them rose to find the bar in ruins, and most of their customers gone. The
bartender sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Business as usual," he quipped. The witless victim of 'Ace' lay in a crumple on the floor, and
Ace, sat nonchalantly in a chair, his feet propped up on the bar.

"Ace..." the bartender said in a serious manner. "You can't keep doing this."

"But don't I?" he replied. If his eyes hadn't been hidden by his hat, the bartender would
have seen a humored man.

The bartender contemplated his remark for a moment, then walked towards the pile of
bones moaning on the ground. "I'll take him to the hospital or something... you can help
her clean up." Tina opened her mouth to complain, but seeing as how this was her first
day on the job, she kept quiet.

"So," Ace said after the bartender had left, "you're a new face."

"I guess," she said quietly, picking up pieces of glass off the counter. She looked up and a
look in his hazel eyes made her freeze.

"Don't bother," he told her, "Harry will take care of it. He likes to act all mad, but he really
gets a kick out of it."

"Ahuh..." she finally managed to reply. She scrubbed the counter with a dingy gray rag
from God knows where for a while. Her cheeks were blushing, but she couldn't tell if it was
from the excitement of the evening, or from being alone in a bar with a stranger.

"Well ain't ya gonna tell me your name, Missy?"

"Can't you read the tag?" She pointed to the aformentioned. He set his feet on the
ground, and squinted at the lettering.

"Tanya?"

"No. Tina."

"Well that's a pretty name. Why the hell is a girl like you working in a hell hole like this?"

"Obviously I needed a job. And there isn't much decent work for a girl in Tharsis." She tried
her best to ignore him and nearly scrubbed the varnish off of countertop.

"You just don't seem the type that's all," He told her matter-of-factly.

"Oh really?" she asked sarcastically, "And what type am I?"

"Judging by the way you screamed when we was yelling, you ain't used to fights. I bet
you're a country girl. Might even be from Ganymede." He stole a glance at her, and she
subconciously froze again. Something about him made her lose control of her senses. She
shook her head, blinked, and looked up.

"I just don't understand why people need to fight like that. You could have gotten hurt."
She perked her head up and looked at him sternly. "It wasn't a good idea."

He looked at her seriously for a moment, and burst into a storm of laughter. She glared at
him, and continued to clean the counters. When he finished laughing, he grabbed her
arm and forced her to look at her.

"How many years of therapy have you had?" he asked her.

"What?!"

"Answer the question," he demanded. She let go of the rag and started snapping her
fingers. It was something she did when she was nervous.

"Three. I don't know how that's any of your damn business, but I've had three."

"For what?" he asked her curiously. She hesitated, and answered:

"I have chronic fear."

He let go of her arm, and smirked. "Is that all? And to think you work here, of all places."

"Sheila said it would help me overcome my fear." Her snapping became louder.

"Who?"

"My therapist." Her rag lay lifeless on the counter, and she grabbed a cigarette from
somewhere in her dress. She offered him one, but he refused, saying it was 'bad for his
health.'

"Oh really?" she asked as she lit up, "And fighting is?"

Silently he sat for a long while, contemplating his answer. She waited patiently, flicking her
ashes away and snapping her fingers absentmindedly.

He smiled in an ancient way, making him appear timeless. Finally, he was ready to answer.

"Honey, I've been fighting my whole life. One thing or another, its been a fight for
something. Its the only way I know how. I've got a bounty on my head too high to count,
and its only gonna get higher. So why let it get me? Sometimes you gotta take life by the
balls, kid, and hold on with all you got." He plucked the dying cigarette from her mouth,
and exstinguished it on the freshly cleaned countertop.

Questions filled her mind, but she only knew silence. He had called her 'kid', but he couldn't
have been much older than her. She felt so young and naive, and it made her feel
vulnerable. How in the world was she going to survive in times like these, when hard luck
made a young man old, and a girl feel afraid of everything?

He rose from his seat, tipped his hat to her, and walked out the door like he owned the
place. She just stood there, watching him leave. The door had fallen off its hinges, and
she could see the deep shades of dark blue swirling with the clouds in the sky. She felt
numb as she tore off the name tag pinned to her chest. The night sky danced with the
stars as she jogged to catch up to him, calling his name.

He turned and saw her catching her breath. Her face was flushed. She looked up and into
his eyes, and she smiled in a way she had never smiled before. Returning the gesture, he
smiled and took her hand. As they walked far away from that hell hole of a bar, she said,

"If you're Ace, than I must be the Queen of Hearts."

"No," he replied, "You're the joker baby."

*****

Yeah, I know... not that good. But, the rest is better! I promise!!