I'm sorry, I'm sorry, for changing the view point and the narrator and all that, but I just wanted to, and since I'm the authoress, I get to do that type of thing. I think it'll flooow better. First person is good for stream of conciousness, explaining a character's mood things, but... story time now, and plot-ness needs a third person view, or at least for what I'm trying to do and where I'm trying to go. So enjoy, hopefully.
Disclaimer: Don't own, won't sell, don't ask, don't tell. Please don't sue me.
My Beautiful
Chapter Two- Elegance Is Nothing Much
Spike leaned over the computer screen, the annoyingly bright glare etching harsh shadows onto his face. Slipping his lanky body down over the beaten upholstry of the computer chair, he let out a long drag of smoke as he carefully looked over the list of possible victims. Ever since Big Shot went off the air they'd had to look over the list of bounties themselves. It was a complete and total pain in the ass.
Listlessly scrolling over the names of criminals (and they were all -petty- criminals now a days, didn't anyone know how to commit murder anymore?) he searched for anything that could possibly be worth their while. Anything. But only small time theives and smugglers came up. Not even a good scam artist seemed to be in operation around here. The whole solar system was just too damn peaceful. Maybe they should think of relocating the Bebop to Alpha Centauri, there was always -some- sort of crime going on out there. Then again, there were also a hell of a lot more bounty hunters out there too.
And Spike just hated competition.
But what he hated even more than that was boredom. Sighing, he flipped out of the chair and tumbled lazily through the living room. Jet had decided to switch off the anti-grav in the name of conserving woolongs, and this was also a pain in the ass. Practicing Jeet Kun-do wasn't even an option anymore. Spike just let himself drift until he bumped gently against the opposite wall, trailing smoke all the way. He would pay a million woolongs to have something, anything to do. Even having Faye or Ed back would be welcome as some sort of entertainment. God, now that was a scary thought.
The smell of cooking came from the kitchen as Jet came out to announce dinner. At least they had money for more than just instant noodles, even if it wasn't enough for meat. It could be worse. It had been worse, so long, long ago...
Okay, eight months ago. It was still better now.
Spike turned his head to face Jet as the older man let out a soft gasp, staring at the flickering computer screen.
"What." No reply- his partner was completely immersed in whatever he was looking at. "Jet, what are you looking at? Gimme a hint at least." He started to drift back over the chair when Jet stepped out of the way, and he forgot to control his tumble, crashing into the chair.
There on the screen was the smirking, disdainful face of none other than Faye Valentine.
"Well shit..." he managed to get out, gripping the monitor to keep from smashing into the opposite wall.
He and Jet stared at eachother for what felt like several minutes before Jet managed to speak. "What the fuck could Faye have done to get herself a five hundred million woolong bounty?"
Spike shrugged noncommittedly, regaining his composure. "I suppose.." he drawled before taking another breath of smoke, "that she was just being herself?"
Jet nodded- it did make perfect sense. "Should we go after her?"
"Of course. Is there really any other option?"
Jet shook his head. It wasn't as if there was anything else to do and, well, it -was- Faye. That kind of thing couldn't be ignored. After another few minutes of silence, Jet spoke again.
"Spike..."
"Hmm mmm?"
"Are we going after her because of the money, or... because of Faye?"
Spike stared. He couldn't answer, and he probably wouldn't be able too until he actually stood face to face with the woman herself. And Jet knew it too. He nodded to himself and pushed off in the direction of the control room to set their course, calling back over his shoulder, "Food's ready, by the way."
A few minutes went by as Spike's cigarette slowly burnt itself out in his mouth. He was staring at nothing, lost in thoughts. Faye... she had nearly killed him to stop him from going to be killed. The woman was absolutely insane. It had been a wasted effort on her part in any case. He allowed himself a smugly satisfied thought- "As if anyone could actually ever put a stop to me for long..." Of course he had been in the hospital for over a month, but he waved that thought away with the stale cigarette smoke. It didn't really matter. Not much did, after what had happened.
Frowning slightly as his smugness was replaced by slight worry and not a small bit of depression, Spike pushed himself off towards the kitchen. There really hadn't been much going on... at all. He had actually left the Bebop with the intention of losing his life. But he hadn't. He was still alive, and he didn't know what he was good for anymore. So much of his life had been wrapped up in... in everything.
He had only been able to see through one eye for so long, the depth wouldn't come back to the world. He couldn't see straight anymore, and he was just drifting. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, for someone who'd been so sure of his purpose for so long. Something just wouldn't let him die, but it also wouldn't tell him what he was good for.
Lost in thought, Spike drifted aimlessly through the Bebop, forgetting, for the third time that night, about dinner.
Faye threw away the last of her drink, pushing her sunglasses back in front of her eyes as she walked away from the cheap fast food place. She shuddered- all that grease and fat, it was just not appetizing at all. How could anyone stand to eat there more than once a year?
Smirking, Faye wondered exactly what it said about her personality that she disdained fast food as evil and unhealthy and yet found no problem with copious amounts of smoking, drinking, and other, less desirable things. It probably made her a bit of a hypocrite, but she'd honestly rather have a daquiri and a smoke than a biggie fry any day, and shame on anyone who'd chose otherwise.
Her smirk fell to a petulant frown as she observed her settings. She'd had to move to the other side of the planet after the, uh, incident. Skipping off to a different planet would've been all too transparent and would've gotten her instantly tracked, but staying in the same place wouldn't have been the brightest decision either in a long history of not-very-bright decisions. It helped to have been a bounty hunter before, she knew how the game worked now.
Unfortunately, this side of the planet wasn't very pleasing to her aesthetics. She liked dark, she liked dingy, she liked too drunk to remember who you are and too depressed to care. It was comforting, in a way, to see people even more messed up than she was. At least she didn't do the self-pity thing.
But this side, this side was far too... suburban. Brightly painted houses, lots of sunlight, and way, way too many fast food joints. Way too many kids too. She had just barely gotten used to Edward- she actually almost liked having the little brat around, but these children... whiny, snobby, spoiled, and they must've been born with the sense of direction of a rodent on acid, the way they constantly ran into her legs. Then the uptight mothers would give her a dirty look because of her clothes, or her cigarette, or the insulting way she smirked them all.
It was going to drive her insane. Even prison was better than this consumer-whore mecca. Not that she deserved prison in the least. Faye still smiled whenever she thought of the looks on their faces when she-
...
Spike. It was Spike. Her thoughts totally derailed, her limbs stopped moving, her sunglasses slipped off of her nose and pack of noisy spawn-children ran into the back of her legs and she didn't notice in the slightest. Spike had just turned a corner in front of her and he was looking at her that way he always did and he was walking closer and he was smoking a cigarette in that goddamn beautiful way of his and it was about to fall out of his mouth and he still had that damn wrinkled suit on and that damn poofy hair that damn cocky walk and that damn heart-stopping smile and he was walking towards her and he was alive.
Stopping just a few feet in front of her, Spike opened his mouth, and
End of Chapter 2
Yes. I did mean to end in the middle of a sentence. Just so you know. Keeping up the suspense up, keeping the readership interested, and all that rot. So pleeease, review, review, review. I crave attention and can become terribly depressed when not showered with it- praise or otherwise. And you all love me too much for that to happen, right?
val
Disclaimer: Don't own, won't sell, don't ask, don't tell. Please don't sue me.
My Beautiful
Chapter Two- Elegance Is Nothing Much
Spike leaned over the computer screen, the annoyingly bright glare etching harsh shadows onto his face. Slipping his lanky body down over the beaten upholstry of the computer chair, he let out a long drag of smoke as he carefully looked over the list of possible victims. Ever since Big Shot went off the air they'd had to look over the list of bounties themselves. It was a complete and total pain in the ass.
Listlessly scrolling over the names of criminals (and they were all -petty- criminals now a days, didn't anyone know how to commit murder anymore?) he searched for anything that could possibly be worth their while. Anything. But only small time theives and smugglers came up. Not even a good scam artist seemed to be in operation around here. The whole solar system was just too damn peaceful. Maybe they should think of relocating the Bebop to Alpha Centauri, there was always -some- sort of crime going on out there. Then again, there were also a hell of a lot more bounty hunters out there too.
And Spike just hated competition.
But what he hated even more than that was boredom. Sighing, he flipped out of the chair and tumbled lazily through the living room. Jet had decided to switch off the anti-grav in the name of conserving woolongs, and this was also a pain in the ass. Practicing Jeet Kun-do wasn't even an option anymore. Spike just let himself drift until he bumped gently against the opposite wall, trailing smoke all the way. He would pay a million woolongs to have something, anything to do. Even having Faye or Ed back would be welcome as some sort of entertainment. God, now that was a scary thought.
The smell of cooking came from the kitchen as Jet came out to announce dinner. At least they had money for more than just instant noodles, even if it wasn't enough for meat. It could be worse. It had been worse, so long, long ago...
Okay, eight months ago. It was still better now.
Spike turned his head to face Jet as the older man let out a soft gasp, staring at the flickering computer screen.
"What." No reply- his partner was completely immersed in whatever he was looking at. "Jet, what are you looking at? Gimme a hint at least." He started to drift back over the chair when Jet stepped out of the way, and he forgot to control his tumble, crashing into the chair.
There on the screen was the smirking, disdainful face of none other than Faye Valentine.
"Well shit..." he managed to get out, gripping the monitor to keep from smashing into the opposite wall.
He and Jet stared at eachother for what felt like several minutes before Jet managed to speak. "What the fuck could Faye have done to get herself a five hundred million woolong bounty?"
Spike shrugged noncommittedly, regaining his composure. "I suppose.." he drawled before taking another breath of smoke, "that she was just being herself?"
Jet nodded- it did make perfect sense. "Should we go after her?"
"Of course. Is there really any other option?"
Jet shook his head. It wasn't as if there was anything else to do and, well, it -was- Faye. That kind of thing couldn't be ignored. After another few minutes of silence, Jet spoke again.
"Spike..."
"Hmm mmm?"
"Are we going after her because of the money, or... because of Faye?"
Spike stared. He couldn't answer, and he probably wouldn't be able too until he actually stood face to face with the woman herself. And Jet knew it too. He nodded to himself and pushed off in the direction of the control room to set their course, calling back over his shoulder, "Food's ready, by the way."
A few minutes went by as Spike's cigarette slowly burnt itself out in his mouth. He was staring at nothing, lost in thoughts. Faye... she had nearly killed him to stop him from going to be killed. The woman was absolutely insane. It had been a wasted effort on her part in any case. He allowed himself a smugly satisfied thought- "As if anyone could actually ever put a stop to me for long..." Of course he had been in the hospital for over a month, but he waved that thought away with the stale cigarette smoke. It didn't really matter. Not much did, after what had happened.
Frowning slightly as his smugness was replaced by slight worry and not a small bit of depression, Spike pushed himself off towards the kitchen. There really hadn't been much going on... at all. He had actually left the Bebop with the intention of losing his life. But he hadn't. He was still alive, and he didn't know what he was good for anymore. So much of his life had been wrapped up in... in everything.
He had only been able to see through one eye for so long, the depth wouldn't come back to the world. He couldn't see straight anymore, and he was just drifting. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, for someone who'd been so sure of his purpose for so long. Something just wouldn't let him die, but it also wouldn't tell him what he was good for.
Lost in thought, Spike drifted aimlessly through the Bebop, forgetting, for the third time that night, about dinner.
Faye threw away the last of her drink, pushing her sunglasses back in front of her eyes as she walked away from the cheap fast food place. She shuddered- all that grease and fat, it was just not appetizing at all. How could anyone stand to eat there more than once a year?
Smirking, Faye wondered exactly what it said about her personality that she disdained fast food as evil and unhealthy and yet found no problem with copious amounts of smoking, drinking, and other, less desirable things. It probably made her a bit of a hypocrite, but she'd honestly rather have a daquiri and a smoke than a biggie fry any day, and shame on anyone who'd chose otherwise.
Her smirk fell to a petulant frown as she observed her settings. She'd had to move to the other side of the planet after the, uh, incident. Skipping off to a different planet would've been all too transparent and would've gotten her instantly tracked, but staying in the same place wouldn't have been the brightest decision either in a long history of not-very-bright decisions. It helped to have been a bounty hunter before, she knew how the game worked now.
Unfortunately, this side of the planet wasn't very pleasing to her aesthetics. She liked dark, she liked dingy, she liked too drunk to remember who you are and too depressed to care. It was comforting, in a way, to see people even more messed up than she was. At least she didn't do the self-pity thing.
But this side, this side was far too... suburban. Brightly painted houses, lots of sunlight, and way, way too many fast food joints. Way too many kids too. She had just barely gotten used to Edward- she actually almost liked having the little brat around, but these children... whiny, snobby, spoiled, and they must've been born with the sense of direction of a rodent on acid, the way they constantly ran into her legs. Then the uptight mothers would give her a dirty look because of her clothes, or her cigarette, or the insulting way she smirked them all.
It was going to drive her insane. Even prison was better than this consumer-whore mecca. Not that she deserved prison in the least. Faye still smiled whenever she thought of the looks on their faces when she-
...
Spike. It was Spike. Her thoughts totally derailed, her limbs stopped moving, her sunglasses slipped off of her nose and pack of noisy spawn-children ran into the back of her legs and she didn't notice in the slightest. Spike had just turned a corner in front of her and he was looking at her that way he always did and he was walking closer and he was smoking a cigarette in that goddamn beautiful way of his and it was about to fall out of his mouth and he still had that damn wrinkled suit on and that damn poofy hair that damn cocky walk and that damn heart-stopping smile and he was walking towards her and he was alive.
Stopping just a few feet in front of her, Spike opened his mouth, and
End of Chapter 2
Yes. I did mean to end in the middle of a sentence. Just so you know. Keeping up the suspense up, keeping the readership interested, and all that rot. So pleeease, review, review, review. I crave attention and can become terribly depressed when not showered with it- praise or otherwise. And you all love me too much for that to happen, right?
val