a/n: Just a note to let everybody know: At one point, I am writing this session half delirious with a fever or cold of some sort. I can only find one of my slippers, where the other has disappeared to? I do not know. Maybe the cat has taken a liking to soft fluffy things and dragged it away to his lair- if indeed he has such a thing. Okay, enough mindless rambling. This was originally just to tell you why- if it occurs, the session may be disjointed in places. My apologies, and I'll try to go over it again when I feel the room has stopped caving in on me. For the sake of my readers, I shall doggedly continue. Wish me luck. I think I'll need it. X______X

~Phe-chan.

shout outs:

Tyger-chan (Thanks for all the hugs when I was sick- even though you ran the risk of getting sick yourself. *GLOMP* ^________________________^ ) PS. This session is over 3000 words! So there! :P

Urazz

Ancient Zoidian

& sweet-garbonzo.

Thank you, all. You flatter me with your stunningly lovely reviews. ^____^

CHERRY TOMATO

Session Seven

"Ed, what on Earth possessed you to take off from Spike when you both went into town to get fuel? Ed had released her clingy hold on Jet's head, and slid onto his lap. Jet had his mechanical arm around her, to keep the little brat from fingering the plate of pastries Snap had placed on the table. At least, that's the excuse he told himself… the truth of the matter was, that…he enjoyed hugging her. Ed looked at him upside down.

"Edward saw someone she knew!"

"Hmmm? Is that so…who was it?"

"Her father-person!" Coffee was sprayed all over the table.

"Father? That thing has a human father?" Cadogen yelped as a stinging blow from Snap's wet dishcloth connected with his head.

Edward gasped, "Jet-person…you're squishing Ed!" Unconsciously, Jet's arm had tightened around the girl's middle, right about the time his heart had fallen straight through into his stomach- slowly being digested away. He came out of his daze and swallowed a lump in his throat.

"You said your father, Ed? You really saw him?"

"Uh-huh!" Jet let her wriggle onto the seat next to him.

"Was he with anyone?" Edward's face fell, and the usual bright happiness that graced her young face was replaced with anger and bitterness.

"Two men from the Syndicate…" She listened to the gasps and sharp intake of breath around the table before continuing.

"…marked with a black crow feather on the back panel of their coats. They were dragging Ed's papa away. He was hurt- bleeding. Ed… could smell the blood. So much blood…"

Snap stroked her hair softly.

"It's okay, sweetheart. We'll find him. I'm sure he's fine." Ed allowed herself to be comforted.

"He was going to visit Ed next week. Will he still come, won't he, Snap? Cad?" The adults exchanged dark looks, and Ed pulled at Jet's shirt softly, "Jet?"

"Hmm?"

"Ed's papa will come to see her?"

Jet's innards felt as though they'd been whizzed around in a blender, then frozen in ice cube trays.

"…." The look on his face was enough. Ed slid under the table and hugged Snap's leg.

"Was that entirely necessary?" Snap hissed like a mother duck protecting her duckling. "Look what you've done, Jet Black!"

"I can't lie to her…" Jet's eye's were grey and the corners of his mouth tugged downwards. "Even If I wanted to….if Edward's father is with the men she described, and remember- she has very sharp eyes, then there's a good chance he may already be dead."

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The dawn of a new day broke noisily, with a flock of annoying, cheeping birds perched right next to the air vents on the roof of the Bebop. Faye had emerged from her recent battle with Spike tired. Tired, hung-over and bra-less. She decided to stop caring about the whole situation when Spike locked himself in his room, giggling like a schoolboy, and Faye tripped over Ein in the dark, heavily bruising both of her knees. Now she hobbled into the lounge room, collapsing on the couch to gather some much needed energy for the long trek to the kitchen, and her breakfast. Hot, crispy hash browns, warm, buttery toast and a stack of pancakes drenched in maple syrup. Thinking about food after she had barely eaten for the past day, made her mouth drool. The sun streaming in from the window facing the North was warm and pleasant. Maybe the kitchen wasn't so far away after all, even if her knees were busted. Hey, if there was any kind of fried food involved, she would swim up a pirhana invested river to get it. Faye tried getting up- So far, so good. Leaning on the couch armrest for support, she tried one step, then, experimentally- the other.

"Hi Faye!" CRASH! Okay, a lesson learnt. Any kind of optimism is a bad thing…never again would she attempt to be a nice, cheerful morning person.

"Oww." From her position, face down in the carpet, Faye's voice was irritable and muffled.

"Have a nice trip?" Spike chuckled and tapped her with his foot.

"Leave me alone."

"Oh come on, you big baby! Suck it in! You're not still mad about last night, are you?"

"No. I honestly don't care."

Spike knelt down next to her, "Then what's the problem? You're not your normal self today- you haven't even tried to take a swing at me."

"I said to leave me alone!"

Spike poked her, "Are you sure you're okay? …It's not like I really care or anything…but…uhh…you seem to be….not moving."

"Congratulations, Sherlock. Would you like a nice shiny medal?"

"Well, the cynicism's there, but where's the heart behind it?" The tall bounty hunter leaned in closer, "Are you hurt?"

"….No." Faye wished she could push him, or kick him, or at least crawl out of the room by herself. She hated to consider the thought that someone might think her weak.

"Okay then. Mmmm…I think I might fry up the rest of those hash browns in the freezer…they'd sure put a dent in the ol' hunger pangs." Spike hadn't even bothered to stand- he listened hard, and he was rewarded. Faye gave a tiny, barely audible sniffle. Spike's eyes widened.

"You are hurt, aren't you?"

Faye's reply was muttered. "Yes."

"Where?"

"…My knees. It hurts to walk."

"Hmmm…alright. A temporary truce. Until you can walk five meters unaided, I'm calling a halt to our battles that are our intertwining lives. Agreed?"

"…Yeah, whatever."

Spike smirked, "Excellent. Now, let breakfast commence!" In one fluid motion, he scooped Faye up in his arms and carried her towards the kitchen. Faye was alarmed, for more reasons than one. She thought Spike was an avid gym-enthusiast. Why, then, did he feel- squishy?

"What's gotten into you all of a sudden?"

The man deposited her in a chair and turned towards the stove.

"A cat as no scratch if it's a half starved, beaten stray. Don't you think?" Faye managed to pull her chair in closer to the table.

"Yeah…I guess so…but…" The milk she was pouring into a glass missed it entirely and went spilling all over the cloth table covering, and onto the floor below, making glassy, white pools.

"Spike?…"

"Hmmm?" Faye pointed to his open shirt.

"What the hell are those?"

"What do you mean?"

"Those!" Faye averted her eyes and continued to point blindly. Spike looked down.

"…Holy crap!" His voice was a strained whisper. No small wonder, either. Spike Spiegel was now the proud owner of a fabulous new pair of breasts. "I guess those things weren't Tic Tacs after all…"

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Deep beneath the paved streets of Mars, further into the Earth's crust than even the sewer system, there was a dark, dank, cavern. Chained to one of the many iron rings set in the rock wall, was a man, slumped over in an exhausted way, with his limbs splayed out at odd angles. That was the way he had landed when they threw him down on the floor. How long ago was that, now? The man couldn't remember. The only way he could tell if he was alive was the constant, numb pain- stemming from a sizeable gash behind his left ear, to move swiftly down his neck and spine. It was a struggle to take a small rattling breath- it felt like his chest was being squeezed together like a concertina. Above a ledge in the opposite wall, there was heavy oak door. When this was seldom opened, it looked like light streaming down from heaven, with angels coming to rescue him from his misery. Well- at least it did look like that - until the 'angels' turned their faces to the light, and he could faintly discern the straggly beards on their faces, interwoven with deep scars and a black crow feather on the back of their coats. After that, the vision fell apart, and he was jolted violently back to reality, in the cold, dark, space- with the sound of a slamming door and cruel laughter ringing in his ears.

Not a single person was there to witness the man's twisted mask of pain and despair on his face. No one was there to kneel next to him, to reach out, and stop the cracked, bleeding lips from moving constantly, never a sound passing between them. Water trickled from a fissure in the cavern ceiling to drip steadily into a pool in the floor's damp- uneven surface. For the first time in his life- he was alone.

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Cad slid out of the booth seat and stood up.

"Well what are you waiting for? We have to go and help Edward's father!" He folded his hands against his chest. "Snap?" She pointed at Jet, indicating it was Jet's decision.

"Jet? JET BLACK!" Jet stirred slightly, he had been staring dejectedly at the salt shaker on the table.

"What?"

"Didn't you hear a single thing I said?"

"Yeah…I heard you. Just pipe down. I think people three blocks away heard as well."

"So? What's the answer?"

Jet gazed at him levelly. "No."

"I get it…you're just to cowardly to help someone in trouble. You'd just leave him to rot away in some dungeon for the rest of his natural life- that's if he still even has one! You disgust me, Jet."

Something snapped.

"DO NOT PRESUME TO JUDGE MY CHARACTER, CADOGEN DORAN! YOU KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ME!" Jet leapt up and roared loudly, smashing the table with both fists clenched, in a sudden flare of anger. Reaching out, he grabbed Cad's shirt collar and shook him slightly.

"Jet- please, calm down." Snap had stood and gently placed a hand on his back. The detective was deaf to her words. He continued to grip Cad, his voice hoarse.

"You want one of these, is that it?" Jet wriggled his mechanical fingers in front of Cad's nose.

"What are you talking about?!"

"Where do you think I got this, huh? Tell me!"

"Jet- let go of me!"

"TELL ME!"

Cad struggled feebley, and took a wild guess at the answer Jet wanted to hear, "The…Syndicate?"

"That's right…I lost more than my arm that day…" Jet released him with a shove. "Everything I thought I knew was wrong. Everything. I got what I have today by keeping away from those sick freaks, and no one is going to take that away from me- not you, Snap, or some corpse lying in the bottom of a pit. Edward! Come, we're leaving." Ed crawled out from underneath the table and held Jet's hand, looking back at her two friends sadly as she was pulled out of the door and into the street. Cad held Snap tight when her eyes began to get wet.

"Shhhh. It's alright, love. We won't let them get away that easily."

"But…how?" By the time we find them…Cad, they may simply leave the planet!"

Cadogen smirked. "Darling, I'm not just a traffic cop for the sharp threads- even though it does highlight my incredibly handsome figure- no, don't worry so much. I have 'connections' that'll keep our friends sitting tight where they are, until we find them, and talk them round."

Snap leant back into his chest, "I hope you're right, Cad. I really hope you are."

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"WHAT?!" Birds flew from the Bebop, screaming and reeling into the sky. Faye and Spike were surprisingly for this hour of the morning, outside- talking to a person other than themselves or Ein, if Welsh Corgies can be considered people. In three states, they legally are. There have been cases of billionaire widows leaving their entire fortunes and estates to the damn little mutts- ahh, I mean…noble breed of canine.

"Look, I told ya, I'm just doing my job." A greasy, over weight and overall wearing man dropped several components of the Bebop's engine into a cloth bag, and tightened the string.

"But we haven't broken the law!" Faye was exasperated, clutching her head. "Do you want to see our parking papers? They're inside, I'll just go and grab them." The man held up his hand to stop her.

"No good. I've been told that your parking time in this area has expired, so I'm ahh…'required', as it were- to disable your ship from takin' off 'till the towing lads can impound it."

"This is not happening, this is not happening…Faye, tell me this isn't happening?"

"It is." Huffily, she snatched the towing notice from the man. "I don't understand it though- I thought Jet had the right dates and times on those papers- I even remember him showing them to me, before we landed and he took off- to God knows where."

"Have a nice day, ladies." Sniggering, the guy strolled back to his truck.

"Lady? Who the heck was he calling a lady?"

"You, moron."

"But- ohh…yeah. That thing."

"Yes. Well- come and help me inside. I need some painkillers, and in the meantime, you need a bra….or something."

Spike ducked his head under one of Faye's arms and half supported, half dragged her back into the ship.

"I resent that!"

"Honey, trust me- you don't want to be out on the streets, bouncing around in a loose cotton shirt. For once in your life, listen to someone other than yourself."

The man was amused.

"Are you actually giving me the concerned advice of a friend, Faye Valentine?" Faye made a face as she was lowered back down on the couch.

"Hardly. I just don' t want to have the ugly freak police to dump you on my door mat at three o 'clock in the morning. You're lucky enough that the plain ugly cops haven't picked you up yet." Spike placed a painkiller tablet and a glass of water on the little coffee table beside the couch.

"That's my girl."

"Huh?"

"Glad to see that you're feeling better. I was starting to miss the emotionally scarring comments about my appearance."

Spike left the room whistling, a broad expression of satisfaction plastered over his face. Faye stared at the bottom of her empty glass. Nothing made sense. If Spike began to take some interest in her well being, ( which she presumed could be attributed to the unknown factor of his newly developed feminine physique ), what would be next? Would he take up floral arranging? Preside over girl scout meetings? Bake cookies? Faye tapped the glass with her fingernails and gave in to an inward shudder.

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The night passed, spent in pleasant company. Of the flock of crows that had roosted in Vicious' room, only one remained in the dawn. The blue eyed marvel of nature. Vicious tickled it under it's beak with a finger as he sought to pull on some clothes from his bedside set of drawers. When he was all done, Vicious opened the window as wide as he could and turned back to the crow, indicating that it could leave. The bird gave a clipped response in it's own language, and swooped haughtily out. Vicious didn't worry about it. Every morning, the bird threw a tantrum- but it always turned up again in the evening. There were other things on Vicious' mind that day. Pushing the hungry feeling out of his stomach, he stepped into his shoes and slipped out the door, making his way down endless flights of stone steps. The air began to grow stale, and too over-used smelling. Tapestries on the walls were mould ridden and rotting away. Turning a corner in the passage, Vicious came to a heavy, oak door- guarded by two of his own men.

"Well?" The pair of them saluted sharply to their master.

"Two days ago, he was half alive sir! As you instructed, we have not opened the door until you came. No food or drink has been administered either."

"…Let me in." The men looked at each other before turning the key the giant, heavy lock and handing a flaming torch to Vicious. With a labored effort, they managed to pull the door inwards on it's hinges.

Quietness reigned within- broken only by the feeble drip of an unknown water source. In here, it was easy to understand why captives so quickly lost their sense of time and proportion. The thick blanket of darkness was formidable. Enough to make a sane man mad, and to drive a mad man to suicide.

Perfect, thought Vicious- with a little flutter of sadistic happiness that only came from taking joy in someone else's suffering. The white blonde man made it to the first platform in the stairs before surveying the body lying motionless on the cavern floor. It wasn't even worth going down there, he thought with slight disappointment. A pity even. He always liked tormenting the prisoners- watching them writhe around on the floor in pain, hear them pleading with him to put an end to their miserable existances. Apparently it was not to be today. Turning, Vicious climbed back up the stairs and returned the guard's torch. As phantom-like as he appeared, he vanished away into other levels of the house.

Lying in the mud of the cavern floor, the man opened an eye. He had survived from receiving another visit from him.

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a/n: I LIVE! Sorry for the first little a/n, but I seriously was sick. I almost had to get a blood test for glandular fever! X_________X()()() Blood….needles….*Pales * Excuse me a moment…

Phe passes out on the floor beneath the desk , and Spike at that point walks in.

Spike: "Uh..huh." Sits on the computer chair, "It seems that Phe-chan is…'incapacitated' at the moment coughalcoholiccough, sooo, I shall be doing the remainder of this author's note."

Faye appears.

Faye: "Nuh-uh! You can't do this- Phe-chan wouldn't allow it! You're not even a girl!"

Spike: "Really, now? HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN THESE?" Spike indicates his chest.

Faye: Tch. Everyone knows that they're just an excess amount of fat and fluid- the cause of which is yet to be discovered."

Spike cries.

"I'm not fat!"

Faye pats him sympathetically on the head.

"No, just incredibly, horribly, and hideously ugly."