Title: The Messenger III
Author: Obsidian Mist
Disclaimer: I'm going out on a limb here and telling all you fine folks
that it is in fact true that I do not own Cowboy Bebop.
Archived: Well, it is here on Fanfiction.Net but if anyone (anyone at all)
would like to post it on another site as well, I might be able to help you
out (come on! You know you want it! Right? Please?). Wait a second...is
my subliminal mind (who me?) acting up again? Sheesh, I hate it when (oh
yeah? Well how do you think I feel eh? Always being thought of as a
delusion? Well, buster, let me tell you something, I have feelings too. I
just want to) this happens. Ah hem, sorry 'bout that, but if you do want
to archive it, just e-mail me at ObsidianMistmsn.com(...and another thing,
you always interrupt me whe-)
Author notes: So sorry for taking so long to get this part up, I wasn't
sure anyone wanted another chapter. Mass crowds scream "We didn't!"
Okay...well for those of you who do like this, find it in your heart to write
a comment.
The Messenger III
One by one, like leaves from a tree,
All my faiths have forsaken me.
-Sara Teasdale
I wonder what he's doing right now. Is he kissing her, whispering declarations of love into her ears? Are they gazing at one another wordless? When he saw her, did he smile, really smile? Not that superior all-too-knowing grin or his bitter smirk, but an actual smile that didn't mock his environment or the people in it. How couldn't he? Julia was so wonderful and enigmatic like a delicate butterfly in a garden or a comet streaking across the canvas of the sky. Faye resisted the urge to bang her head against the wall. She had enough junk going on without adding a headache to the list. But as much as she would like to do anything, anything else at all; she was trapped by her envy and longing. What Julia had was so very precious, a man who cared so deeply so strongly about you that they scour the solar system just to find her. No one would ever come so far after me, not anyone who wanted me and not my wulongs. That cowboy idiot had saved her life, but only because it was convenient for him to do so. She had inadvertently become the bait to ensnare Vicious that was why Spike had come. She had to stop this pointless game. There was no reason to wonder over him, for he'd had left like a man who had no intention of coming back. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, the questions pounded at her much like the banks coming after their money. You think you can elude them by turning that one corner, by burying yourself in tasks, but it's all futile. Fumbling in her pockets she withdrew her cigarette carton to discover it was empty. Glaring at the offending piece of cardboard, she balled it up and threw it across the room, missing the garbage can by scant inches.
"Damn it all Faye! Pick that up!" His hands on his hips he made an intimidating sight, but she couldn't care less. "Yeah, whatever Jet." She automatically reached to get a smoke before realizing she was out. "This is my ship, and on my ship you pick up after yourself."
"If you're gonna get so uptight about it, than throw it away yourself." And that was the proverbial last straw for Jet Black. First his best buddy ditches him for some chick he hasn't seen in years, then it looks like said cowboy might be developing a deathwish, and now that woman was trashing his ship. It took him four strides to reach her. Faye's eyes widened at the looming figure; she had never seen him look so mad. He jabbed a finger at her shoulder hard. "Bitch, who do you think you are that you can do whatever you want whenever you want?"
"Spike, maybe? Seems he fits that description pretty well." The look he gave her, that chilling angry look would make almost anyone vacate the premises immediately. Faye was not most people, but still she took an involuntary step back and the cool wall thrust against her back.
For one heated second, all Jet wanted to do was hit her, hard. "Go to hell." He stormed out of the room, probably to meet up with those bonsais of his. At least his trees wouldn't talk back to him.
Behind him Faye laughed coldly, "I'm already in hell." Part of Jet, the soft, compassionate, caring side that usually only left him broke and alone wanted to retract that hurtful statement, felt it necessary to make that woman feel better. The once ISSP officer shoved those urges away. No one was ever there for him when the chips were down. Come on, even his former partner in the police force had sold him to the highest bidder and then shot off his arm. His warm right hand unconsciously encompassed its cold mate a daily reminder of how fragile trust really was and how strong greed could grow.
Meeting and eventually partnering up with Spike had been one of the luckiest things to happen to him. In Spiegel he knew intuitively that neither would double cross the other. And now, when it seemed the end of this tale, that fact had remained true, in a sense. Spike had never set out to get Jet bodily hurt, but the foolish man never took into account matters of the heart. Or that he wasn't some sort of superhuman invulnerable to all means of destruction and terror. Of course his recklessness had been an asset at times, but this, this was enough to reverse every good thing that had come out of Spiegle's unplanned actions.
He remained in the entrance to the room his back to Faye as he reflected. She shifted uneasily, why was he just standing there? He was starting to creep her out. When Jet Black lost his temper, really lost it not just yelling or shouting, he was... Actually, she didn't know. She had never been privy to that sight, and wasn't in the least regretful. But a moment ago, he was one straw away from it. And she realized that she had been that next to last straw. Moving slowly, as if faced with a hungry grizzly or a disgruntled postal worker, she picked up the crumpled cardboard and deposited it in the nearest receptacle. There was no more Ed or Ein to act as a buffer, to remind the adults that not everything was gloom and doom; so Ms. Valentine realized it might be time to stop acting the shrew and start being a partner. Start rebuilding a life that of late was becoming unstable. Even though they were only mere feet apart, the chasm was starting to grow. Author's Note: For once, I've uploaded two chapters instead of one. So instead of bemoaning the fact that I take way too long to post stuff, you can just press that nifty button down there and go on to the next section. Obsidian Mist Signing off
The Messenger III
One by one, like leaves from a tree,
All my faiths have forsaken me.
-Sara Teasdale
I wonder what he's doing right now. Is he kissing her, whispering declarations of love into her ears? Are they gazing at one another wordless? When he saw her, did he smile, really smile? Not that superior all-too-knowing grin or his bitter smirk, but an actual smile that didn't mock his environment or the people in it. How couldn't he? Julia was so wonderful and enigmatic like a delicate butterfly in a garden or a comet streaking across the canvas of the sky. Faye resisted the urge to bang her head against the wall. She had enough junk going on without adding a headache to the list. But as much as she would like to do anything, anything else at all; she was trapped by her envy and longing. What Julia had was so very precious, a man who cared so deeply so strongly about you that they scour the solar system just to find her. No one would ever come so far after me, not anyone who wanted me and not my wulongs. That cowboy idiot had saved her life, but only because it was convenient for him to do so. She had inadvertently become the bait to ensnare Vicious that was why Spike had come. She had to stop this pointless game. There was no reason to wonder over him, for he'd had left like a man who had no intention of coming back. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, the questions pounded at her much like the banks coming after their money. You think you can elude them by turning that one corner, by burying yourself in tasks, but it's all futile. Fumbling in her pockets she withdrew her cigarette carton to discover it was empty. Glaring at the offending piece of cardboard, she balled it up and threw it across the room, missing the garbage can by scant inches.
"Damn it all Faye! Pick that up!" His hands on his hips he made an intimidating sight, but she couldn't care less. "Yeah, whatever Jet." She automatically reached to get a smoke before realizing she was out. "This is my ship, and on my ship you pick up after yourself."
"If you're gonna get so uptight about it, than throw it away yourself." And that was the proverbial last straw for Jet Black. First his best buddy ditches him for some chick he hasn't seen in years, then it looks like said cowboy might be developing a deathwish, and now that woman was trashing his ship. It took him four strides to reach her. Faye's eyes widened at the looming figure; she had never seen him look so mad. He jabbed a finger at her shoulder hard. "Bitch, who do you think you are that you can do whatever you want whenever you want?"
"Spike, maybe? Seems he fits that description pretty well." The look he gave her, that chilling angry look would make almost anyone vacate the premises immediately. Faye was not most people, but still she took an involuntary step back and the cool wall thrust against her back.
For one heated second, all Jet wanted to do was hit her, hard. "Go to hell." He stormed out of the room, probably to meet up with those bonsais of his. At least his trees wouldn't talk back to him.
Behind him Faye laughed coldly, "I'm already in hell." Part of Jet, the soft, compassionate, caring side that usually only left him broke and alone wanted to retract that hurtful statement, felt it necessary to make that woman feel better. The once ISSP officer shoved those urges away. No one was ever there for him when the chips were down. Come on, even his former partner in the police force had sold him to the highest bidder and then shot off his arm. His warm right hand unconsciously encompassed its cold mate a daily reminder of how fragile trust really was and how strong greed could grow.
Meeting and eventually partnering up with Spike had been one of the luckiest things to happen to him. In Spiegel he knew intuitively that neither would double cross the other. And now, when it seemed the end of this tale, that fact had remained true, in a sense. Spike had never set out to get Jet bodily hurt, but the foolish man never took into account matters of the heart. Or that he wasn't some sort of superhuman invulnerable to all means of destruction and terror. Of course his recklessness had been an asset at times, but this, this was enough to reverse every good thing that had come out of Spiegle's unplanned actions.
He remained in the entrance to the room his back to Faye as he reflected. She shifted uneasily, why was he just standing there? He was starting to creep her out. When Jet Black lost his temper, really lost it not just yelling or shouting, he was... Actually, she didn't know. She had never been privy to that sight, and wasn't in the least regretful. But a moment ago, he was one straw away from it. And she realized that she had been that next to last straw. Moving slowly, as if faced with a hungry grizzly or a disgruntled postal worker, she picked up the crumpled cardboard and deposited it in the nearest receptacle. There was no more Ed or Ein to act as a buffer, to remind the adults that not everything was gloom and doom; so Ms. Valentine realized it might be time to stop acting the shrew and start being a partner. Start rebuilding a life that of late was becoming unstable. Even though they were only mere feet apart, the chasm was starting to grow. Author's Note: For once, I've uploaded two chapters instead of one. So instead of bemoaning the fact that I take way too long to post stuff, you can just press that nifty button down there and go on to the next section. Obsidian Mist Signing off