Technical note: I don't know what that communicator-thingy Jet uses sometimes on the ship is called, so I'm calling it a telecom... if anyone knows the proper term, please let me know and I'll correct it.
* * *
Faye had a hard time suppressing the urge to laugh. This Card guy had a huge bounty on his head, the police were after him and the majority of the bounty hunters in the galaxy soon would be as well... and yet he'd just walked out into the hall as if nothing were amiss. How much more careless could he be? She gave him a feral grin and drawled, "And here I thought you'd be trouble."
Card seemed remarkably unperturbed by the situation. He leaned back against his doorjamb smiled nastily. "I'm tempted to thank you for dropping by. I was thinking about hiring a hooker for the evening, but it looks like you've saved me the trouble."
Faye would have punched Card for that comment if Jet hadn't beaten her to it.
"That's no way to talk to a lady, "Jet growled, his gun inches from Card's face.
Faye blinked in surprise. "Since when am I a lady?"
Jet rolled his eyes. "Well, whatever you are, you're not a whore."
Faye batted her eyes in an exaggerated semblance of innocence. "Aww, my knight in shining armor is defending my honor. How sweet." And it was sweet, after a fashion. It was nice to know that Jet thought highly of her... or at least, he didn't think of her as the scum of the earth. She would never tell him that, though.
Card looked like he wanted to say something, but a quick glance at Jet, who still appeared violent, seemed enough to convince him to keep his mouth shut.
Faye decided it was time for her to take charge; couldn't have Jet trying to claim all the bounty for himself, after all. "Alright, scumbag, here's the deal. Either you come quietly, I'll tell Bruno here to rearrange your face."
Jet huffed indignantly. "Bruno?"
Faye gave him a shut-up look, then focused her attention back on Card. "Get it?"
"Got it," Card mumbled.
"Good," Jet snarled.
"Good," Faye repeated triumphantly. She nodded to Jet. "Cuff 'im."
"Why do I have to cuff him?"
"Because you're the one who's got the cuffs."
Jet holstered his gun and crossed his arms. "You haven't done anything to earn your share of the bounty so far, you cuff him!"
"That's not true!" Faye protested, mentally cursing because Jet had figured it out. She'd hoped she'd be able to slip that little detail by him if she was careful enough. "I got that arms dealer on 45th street to give us Card's address."
Jet's expression had reverted to his patented deadpan glare. "That was me."
"Alright then, I got that blond transvestite at the precinct to tell us about the arms dealer on 45th."
"Me again."
"Nuh-uh!"
"I asked all the questions while you sulked by the door."
"He wouldn't have answered your questions if he hadn't been staring at my boobs."
"He wasn't staring at your boobs, Faye."
"What, you think he was staring at my beautiful eyes?"
"The guy was gay. He had no reason to stare at your boobs."
"No, I distinctly caught him staring at my rack...." Faye trailed off as she realized that Card was no longer leaning against the doorjamb. In fact, he wasn't near the door at all. All she could see of him was the top of his head disappearing down the apartment staircase. She charged after him, at the same time yelling to Jet, "Damn it, you're letting him get away!"
"I'm letting him?" Jet repeated incredulously, also in hot pursuit. "I'm not the one who started this argument!"
"Yes you are," Faye said, leaping in front of him just as they reached the top of the stairwell. Jet tried to answer her, but she ignored him; she was too busy trying to figure out which way Card had gone when he ran out the door.
"I'll go right, you go left," Jet said as they exited the apartment, "and no arguments!"
Since 150 million woolongs were on the line, Faye decided not to press the point any further... for the moment, anyway. She ran down the alleyway Jet had chosen for the stakeout earlier, trying to ignore the sensation that she was running through raw sewage, looking around frantically for any sign of Card's whereabouts. She slowed to a halt when the alley once again opened onto a main street, chest heaving and shoulders slumped with defeat. If he had gone that way, there was no chance she'd be able to find him.
Faye walked back to Card's apartment complex in a sulk. Jet returned shortly, looking as bitter and disappointed as she felt. "You didn't catch him, I see," Faye jibed.
"You didn't either," Jet replied.
Faye sighed and tucked her gun into its holster, then leaned back against the wall in what she thought of as her sultry, sexy pose. "I guess we're back to square one."
Jet shook his head. "No, I'm back to square one. You are going back to the Be-Bop so that I can actually catch this guy without having to worry about you screwing something up!"
Faye's eyes narrowed, but that was only a slight indication of how angry she became at Jet's comment. She straightened up, placed her hands on her hips and focused her patented Glare of Death on Jet.
Jet realized, too late, how upset Faye had become; he took a couple of steps backward and held up his hands in a placating manner. "Faye, take it easy now...."
"I'll take it as hard as I damn well please!" Faye yelled. She jammed a finger against Jet's chest vehemently. "If you think that I'm some lazy, over-rated, two-bit...." She couldn't think of a suitable ending for her sentence that didn't involve the words 'slut', 'whore' or 'bitch', so she decided to move on. "Why do I even bother? It's not like I enjoy staying on your crummy, beat-up ship anyway! I'll just... find someplace else to live!" She whirled around and stormed off down the street, not slowing her pace until she rounded the corner two blocks down, where her Red-Tail was stashed. She peeked around to see if Jet had followed her. He hadn't. She slumped against the wall and swore under her breath.
She knew she shouldn't have exploded at Jet like that; everything he'd said was spot-on. And to top that off, she couldn't show up at the Be-Bop now without looking like a loud-mouthed idiot. Of course, Jet probably thought she was a loud-mouthed idiot already... but Faye didn't want to give him even more reason to think so. She would have to spend at least part of the night away from the ship, which meant she wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight because she didn't have anywhere else to go.
Finally she gave a resigned sigh and trekked back to the lot where she'd parked the Red-tail. She got inside, made sure the doors were locked and the air-vents were open, then pulled off her jacket and rolled it up into a pillow. After a brief struggle to find a position that wouldn't leave her with overly severe cramps in the morning, she closed her eyes and did her best to prepare for a fitful night's sleep.
* * *
Jet was once again in the middle of a mental war with his uncooperative bonsai tree; however, this time it decidedly had the upper hand. Most of his mental processes were geared toward being royally pissed off at Faye. The tree had managed to get away without a single bit of trimming so far, which would have made Jet even angrier if he'd taken the time to realize it.
It took a great deal to make him angry. He did his best to maintain a calm, analytical frame of mind. But time after time, fate had conspired against him. The people who had taken refuge inside his ship were proof of that. He would have been hard-pressed to find crazier, more infuriating roommates if he'd tried. One of them was always testing the limits of his patience, it seemed.... Or rather, had seemed. With Spike and Edward gone, things had calmed down quite a bit... and if Faye decided to leave for good, which might very well happen after her little outburst back there, Jet would have the Be-Bop to himself.
Surprisingly, the thought was not comforting.
Eventually he realized that it was getting late. He left his tree to plot future victories, but decided to forgo his bed in favor of the ratty old couch and the droning company of the television. If Faye did decide to come back before morning, he wanted to be ready to give her a proper reaming-out.
He must have dozed off, because he was awakened by the sound of his ringing telecom. He sat up groggily, turned it on and squinted at the screen. His eyes widened when he realized that Card's face was smirking back at him.
Card spoke. "Oh, good, you're there after all. I was starting to wonder if you'd ever answer."
"What the... how did you get this number?" Jet sputtered.
Card shrugged. "It doesn't matter. But this does: I've done some research on you and your little group of bounty hunters, Mr. Black. I know all about you. And I think it would be in your best interests to stay on my good side."
Jet's eyes narrowed. "Are you threatening me?"
"Oh, no, not you. But your friend, one Mr. Spike Spiegel, is in the hospital. Comatose, if I'm not mistaken. It would be a shame if he never had a chance to wake up."
Jet understood immediately what Card was insinuating. He slammed his hand down on the table. "You son of a bitch!"
Card didn't react verbally to Jet's exclamation, but his expression turned icy. "I recommend dropping my bounty. Pretend that I don't exist. It wouldn't be wise to ignore that advice. I always make good on my threats." With that, the screen went blank.
Jet dropped the dead telecom, shaking with rage. If Card had delivered his ultimatum in person, Jet would have been seriously tempted to break open his skull.
If Spike had been awake, the situation would have been drastically different; his level of stamina and tolerance for pain were among the highest Jet had ever seen, and he would never allow someone like Card to get the drop on him. But now... now there was only one viable option.
Jet leaned back on the couch and sighed. "Damn. I really could've used that money."
* * *
To be continued....
