Disclaimer: Cowboy Bebop is the rightful property of Sunrise, Inc. No profit is intended from this fanfic.

Thanks to red-tenko, Kawaii Kokkei Tsuita, Jixer n Sybil, Cowgirl13, Qui-ti (Way to go.), Case (Thanks for the tips; I appreciate the constructive criticism. I'm going to try my best with Ed. Hopefully she'll be more in character within the next couple of chapters.), Mrs. JENOVA, and Kya Lorne (I was actually going to have S/F in this chapter, but this thing has a mind of its own. I'll try to work it in soon.)!!

Chapter 6

The old hydroelectric plant stood at the edge of town, a relic of the early days of colonization. It's doors were forever closed, but on this night one passing by could see strange flashes lighting up the interior.

The first bullet flew by Spike, making a bloody trail across his cheek, as a chunk of skin was taken off. He dove for the area under the stairs that the informant had been standing under, taking whatever shelter he could. A rain of bullets drummed the steps, ricocheting off the metal in all directions. They were firing from the lower levels, making their way to where he was holed up. He would wait and pick them off one by one, as they climbed the stairs. He'd be trapped if he stayed there or made it to the upper level, and trying to make a run for it over the walkways would leave him wide open. He had no choice but to get down somehow. Spike checked his clip, only five more bullets left.

He shot the first one in the head, the bullet going through and hitting the man behind him in the face. Spike burst from his hiding spot, shooting three more as he ran to the middle of the walkway where he leapt off the railing. The impact reverberated throughout his body as he landed on the second level. Bracing himself, he ran towards the man that was at the end near the stairs. Before the man could level his machine gun, Spike had him in an iron grip. He raised the man's arm and angled the weapon so that the bullets would hit the men on the upper level. They didn't get a chance to fire as their bodies were riddled with bullets, their forms shuffling in a surreal dance.

With his free hand Spike shot the first man in the heart that was making his way towards him. Two more were behind that one; they shot at him, but he used the man he had grabbed as a shield. Having no more bullets left, Spike took the empty machine gun and swung in a wide arch, the side of the first man's head depressing as the but of the weapon came into contact with him. The second one managed to shoot Spike in the shoulder of his gun hand, the bullet tearing through flesh and muscle and going out the other side. Ignoring the pain, Spike pounced on the man delivering a fatal kick to his head. He grabbed his opponent's gun, as a third one was descending on him. Dodging the man's bullets, Spike dove for the ground, shooting the man dead as another bullet tore through his wounded shoulder. He easily shot the last one that came on him, his reflexes faster than the other man's, even in his weakened state.

There was no noise now in the building, save for the sound of the blood dripping like rain from the upper level and Spike's labored breathing. He forced himself to get up, despite the pounding pain in his shoulder. Luckily the second bullet went out clean from his back, but both wounds were badly bleeding. He took his lighter out and used the light of the flame to better look over one of the men that was lying near him. He couldn't recognize the clothes; they were nondescript. Syndicate thugs were usually in uniform, but he couldn't rule them out altogether.

His head was feeling light now and the fingers of his right hand were becoming numb. He took his jacket off, wrapping it around his shoulder as best he could with his one good hand. Pulling with his teeth to tighten the jacket was all Spike could do with the makeshift tourniquet. The wounds were still bleeding heavily, he'd have to get out of there quick before he passed out, or before any more assassins showed up to finish the job the others couldn't get done.

He was glad now that he hadn't parked his baby near the building, but instead in a clearing past the woods surrounding the compound. There didn't seem to be any more of them, but he still kept his path from tree to tree, using them for cover.

Black spots were dancing in front of his eyes as he set the SwordfishII's course on autopilot, blood slick on his hands as he moved his fingers over the controls. His jacket was completely soaked with blood now. Speeding away from the scene, Spike was foreboding. Dammit Faye. What have you gotten yourself into now?

* * *

Stumbling out of his monoracer he haphazardly made his way through the ship, dripping a trail of blood. Jet was going to be pissed off at the mess in the morning. He went past the couch, seeing that Ed and Ein had hijacked his sleeping spot.

Reaching Faye's room, he fumbled with the door handle. The signal that his clouded brain was sending to his hand wasn't getting through, and it was some time before he managed to open the door. Stepping into the room he saw Faye wide awake with her Glock drawn. Apparently she had gone straight for her gun at hearing the door opening. Her rigid posture relaxed and she put the safety back on when she saw it was him.

"Spike, what are you doing…?"

She rushed forward to catch him, as she saw Spike swaying. Helping him over to her bed, Faye took in his appearance.

"Out having fun without me Spike?"

"Promise…take you…next time Romany..." His words were trailing off and slurring as the blood loss was starting to wear him down.

"I'll be right back," Faye said as she quickly left to get medical supplies.

He leaned back against the wall, his eyes drooping as sleep was trying to overpower him. He roused from his stupor as he felt his jacket being loosened. When had she come back? She was taking his shirt off now, discarding the soiled garments on the floor. The wounds were still bleeding profusely and she worked quickly to clean the blood off before they could be taken care of.

"You really take being shot up to an art form lunkhead. You must think I have nothing better to do than play fucking nursemaid to you."

Her words were harsh, but her hands moved tenderly and quickly over his wounds. It never failed, she would always curse and complain her way through tending his injuries, but her gentle and soothing actions always betrayed her words.

Once he was bandaged up, she took the two IV bags full of blood she had brought with her. Jet had made the Doc take some of Spike's blood from time to time so that they could have enough stockpiled in case of emergencies. The last bag being depleted, the handheld device indicated his heart rate and vitals were stabilizing.

By the time she finished cleaning up the cut on his cheek, he had fallen asleep. Faye decided it was best to leave him on her bed and take the couch for herself. She took off his heavy shoes but hesitated at taking his pants off. He shouldn't be uncomfortable sleeping in them, but the right side was soaked with blood so she'd have to take them off. At least he was out of it and wouldn't wake up at that moment. She couldn't help from laughing when she saw that the design on his boxer shorts had guns all over it.

Pushing him away from the wall, she settled him onto the bed, pulling his legs up. The TV was still at the foot of the bed so his legs would be cramped up. Oh well, he should've gone to Jet for help instead of coming to her. But he had come to her and that made her strangely content. She should know better, that her room was closer, but it was late and her usual cynicism was dormant. Hesitantly she reached out and pushed away a lock of hair that had gotten in his eyes, her hand trailing down his face. But as soon as the motion was instigated, she pulled back. What was wrong with her? These feelings were disturbing to her; nothing good would come of them. Sometimes she thought it best to leave the BeBop altogether - forget that he and Jet and Ed ever existed. Go back to the nomadic life she had before. Of course her life was still nomadic, but she had them for companions now.

Damn. She was getting too attached. It was time she thought of leaving permanently……

* * *

Taking the blood soaked clothes, Faye went to the laundry room. May as well do something, now that she couldn't get back to sleep. Shuffling through the various bottles, she came across one labeled "Blood-Away Liquid Detergent." Gets out 40% more blood-stains than other leading brands - Bounty Hunter's Choice, it said on the bottle. She rifled through Spike's pants pockets taking out his wallet, a crumpled piece of paper, matches, and a pack of cigs - cigs she'd specifically told Jet not to give to Spike. Just like a sneaky man!

Leaving the laundry to take care of itself, Faye went to the living room and dumped the contents of Spike's pockets onto the table. Ed was using Ein as a pillow, and evidently dreaming from the occasional flailing of her arms and mutterings.

Suddenly a golden eye popped open and widened as she saw who was sitting in front of her.

"Faye-Faye!!" Ed yelled. She was still half sleepy, but that didn't stop her from tumbling over the table and jumping onto Faye, and startling Ein out of his sleep.

"Faye-Faye come to play game with Edward?" She asked drowsily, but latched onto Faye's arm with a strong grip.

"Go back to sleep Ed, it's too late for games," Faye said, trying push away Ed who was using her shoulder as a pillow.

"No one wants to play games with Ed."

"Gimme a break kid. Go play with the dog."

"Faye-Faye!! Please-Please!!"

"Fine. I'll teach you Poker. That's the greatest game in the world." Faye caved in, hoping Ed would stop yelling in her ear.

"YAY!! Poker Ed!" She wrapped her arms around Faye again, chocking the air out of her.

"Arrg, get off Ed! Poker players don't hug!"

By the time Faye had finished going through the rules, sleep had reclaimed Ed. Feeling it was safe now, Faye slowly got up and left the seat to her, careful not to disturb her sleep.

"What the hell's going on here? What's all this racket about?" Jet was standing in the doorway looking tousled, sleep still hanging on his frame.

"Can't a man get some rest without you females raising the dead?"

Faye rolled her eyes. "Don't be so melodramatic Jet."

"I'll tell you what I'll be if I don't get some shut eye!" He moved forward, ready to give Faye a good, long lecture on having consideration for the poor put upon ex-ISSP officer she lived with.

"Eww. What's this mess on the floor?" Jet exclaimed, feeling something wet on his bare feet. "Ein!! I thought you were housebroken!"

At this Ein let out a low growl and pounced on Jet, barking up a storm. If Ein could speak he would be uttering a string of curses at Jet. Never had any human insulted him so. To think that a highly intelligent and refined being such as himself would go to the bathroom in the middle of the living room floor! He would expect such insolent comments from the woman, but not Jet. As soon as Ein made contact Jet slipped on the floor, falling on his back with a heavy thud and an 'umph' out of his lips.

"What the…? This isn't….it's blood!"

Faye carefully came closer, looking over Jet's prone form. Ein was standing on his chest, waiting for an apology.

She raised a perfect eyebrow. "So it is…"

"So…?! Where the hell did it come from?!"

"Geez, calm down Jet. It's Spike's. He came in shot in the shoulder. Don't worry, he's fine. He needed a transfusion, but his vitals are stable. He's sleeping in my room."

"Your room?" Jet asked with a smirk on his face and a teasing lilt to his voice.

"My room was the closest, OK. I don't like what you're insinuating!"

"I wasn't insinuating anything. You don't have to get so bothered over it."

"I am not getting bothered!"

Ein was looking from one to the other, annoyed that Jet still hadn't apologized. His claws drawn, he jumped up and landed on Jet again, his claws digging into Jet's flesh.

"Ow! Alright, alright, I'm sorry Ein! You're a good, clean dog. I shouldn't have doubted you." Satisfied with the apology, Ein let out a few yelps and subjected Jet to a torrent of licks.

Pulling Ein away from him, Jet got up, letting out a heavy sigh. "Great, now I need a shower. Clean this mess up Faye."

"Why should I clean it up?! It not my fault Spike has some sick fetish with being shot up all the time."

"Coz I said so! And don't you go getting Ed to do your work for you. I'm telling you Faye, I want to see this floor spotless by the time I get out of the shower. You'll find a mop and bucket in the hangar."

Faye was sitting on the couch now, her arms crossed over her chest, looking like a sullen child. Satisfied she wasn't going to give him any more lip, Jet stalked off to the bathroom. Huh. Who would've thought putting his foot down would work. He should try it with Spike next. Now for that soothing, long, hot shower to relax him enough to fall back asleep.

* * *

"Not bad Faye. Not bad at all. Maybe you should try your hand at cooking next."

"Don't push your luck old man."

"Never mind, you'd probably give us all food poisoning."

Jet had taken a seat on the couch, drying his hair. He glanced down on the coffee table and noticed the scrap of paper.

"What's this?"

"Oh, that. It was in Spike's pocket."

Faye leaned over Jet's shoulder to read what was scrawled on the paper.

I have information on the bounty. Meet me near the generator of the old hydroelectric plant at midnight, third stairwell. Don't bring the woman - come alone.

So that's where he'd gone off to! The fucking bastard was going to two-time her and get the bounty for himself!

A/N: That was the first fight scene I've ever written; hope it was at least half-way decent. If anyone would care to point out any problem areas on that or anything else in the fic, feel free to. And, I have to apologize for the schizophrenic chapter lengths - believe it or not most of the story is outlined, but its taking on a life of its own as I'm writing it.

Next Chapter - Bounty hunters clash as the search for the bounty goes underway.