Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop. Or the song 'Tangerine Speedo.'
There is a reason for the song title, folks.
A Life Full Of Saturdays: Tangerine Speedo
Spike sat in front of the t.v . for what seemed like endless hours after his meeting with Faye. John Wayne was forever plastered in Spike's mind. He knew that Faye had dropped a couple of hints to him but he had no idea what they were. He rented 'Fort Apache' and had studied every movement, every scene, every line and yet he had nothing. What in the blue hell was the woman thinking when she dropped her hints? Spike began to rub the sides of his kelly head in frustration when Jet decided to sit next to his friend and try to help out as best as he could with friendly conversation.
"What do you want Jet?" A small string of cigarette smoke swirled up into the air like an exotic dancer. Jet rested his elbows on his knees just like Spike and smiled at the movie his companion was watching.
"Ah, Fort Apache. My dad loved this movie. Although, he just loved John Wayne. He had all of The Duke's movies." Spike raised an eyebrow.
"The Duke?"
"Oh yeah! One of the most famous cowboys that ever roamed the movie screen. Real American idol. He got the nickname from an old Airsdale terrier of his." Edward popped up between them, gracing them with her hyper presence.
"Dukey Dukey! Hahahahahaha!" Her high pitched giggles were enough to shove the most sane man off the edge. Yet it didn't bother Spike. He was slowly beginning to put pieces together in his scatterbrained mind. 'Fort Apache....John Wayne....The Duke....Wait? Duke?'
Flashback
"Stop." Spike did as told and answered the command with a questioning glance. Faye rubbed at her forehead, almost forgetting that she couldn't cover up the action with hair, for it was pinned up tightly in a messy bun. "I'm sorry but this is just too weird for me."
"Yeah, tell me about it. Who would've thought that you and I could dress this nicely?"
"No, it's no that. It's just....i've had this conversation with someone else, someone close to me, and he ended up dying that night."
"Duke..." Jet glanced over his shoulder and found a glazed over Faye ready to shed tears.
End Of Flashback
Spike shot up from the couch with a look of an inventor who had just revealed his latest creation that actually worked. He yanked Ed up from her tiger-like postion on the floor and held her up to his face.
"Ed! I need you to look for a Duke in the Red Dragon Syndicate!"
"Um...Okay...." Jet was quickly at Ed's defense, though unable to pry his compatriot's fingers from the teenager's tank top.
"Spike! What is this about?!" Spike finally let Edward fall to the ground so she could skimper back to her Tomato and began her long search for the infamous Duke.
"That's the guy Jet! Duke! He knew somehow knew Faye and he was the man she dropped hints about."
It was nearly two hours later when Ed came upon a picture of a man with deep set eyes and deep cobalt hair, sporting the name 'Duke Vaughan' written in white, bold letters beside it in the Syndicate files. Spike had to admit that Ed was some serious danger for hacking into those files. The Red Dragons were experts when it came to computer systems and found it a danger when a hacker would stumble upon their files. But Spike wouldn't let anything happen to the computer genius. He would be damned if the Syndicate got anyone else close to him.
"Duke Vaughan. Entered the Syndicate at age 16 and managed to escape at 23. Hunted down but never actually captured. Skilled in the areas of biochemistry and gun handling." Jet's deep voice was soft but loud enough to reach Spike in the kitchen. The bounty hunter rubbed his smooth chin as Jet's voice continued to read Duke's achievements.
"Where can we find this Duke Vaughan?" Jet scanned over the computer screen before coming to a good conclusion.
"Uh...Ives Cemetery. He's dead Spike." Dead?! Why would Faye lead him to a dead man?! Dead men couldn't tell him of a location of some stupid biochemical weapon that the Syndicate would use to their advantage! And dead men certainly wouldn't be able to spit out embarrassing stories of the huntress, which was one of the perks of finding a man who had known Faye before him.
The cemetery was hardly gloomy or barren as movie producers like to make them out to be. If anything, the Ives Cemetery was bright and bountiful with fresh flowers from mourning loved ones. The grass was greener than most cemeteries Spike had visited, which wasn't many, and flourished with neatly kept trees and a dirt free sidewalk. Spike searched through the many tombstones, hoping one would be stuck with a photo of the former mobster. Spike also hoped that Duke was the man's real name. It was nearly lunchtime when Spike nearly tripped over a gravestone, marked with Duke's name and a short remark about how he was important. He also found a photo of a group of people, including a younger Duke, consisting of an overly tattooed bald man, a perky brunette hooked onto Duke's arm, a redhead in a waitress outfit, another aubrun haired woman who was riding the back of an ebony haired man in a suit. Spike flipped the photo over to read the scribbled message : 'To Duke - may your rest with the memories of your time with the Posse and say hi to Charlotte for me. Miss you too much for words - Boxer.' Spike returned to the scene of friends and squinted to make out the bald man's nametag on his work shirt. It was titled 'Frank's Auto - Boxer.' Of all good luck!
Frank's Auto was nothing more than a mere body shop that consisted of tired old men who just loved to work on cars. And they were good at it too. The word on the street was that Frank's Auto was the best custom body shop in all of Mars. And Boxer, much to Spike's surprise, was still alive and kicking. He entered the office of the shop, sounds of sparks flying into an open shop drifting through the open doors. He could tell that someone had cracked a joke at somepoint by the wild laughter floating around. A small bell let the petite blonde at the front desk know of Spike's entering.
"Can I help you?" If Spike hadn't been worried about the safety of Faye, he would have easily gave in to his manly temptations and flirted with the young beauty. She was rough around the edges but cute nonetheless.
"Yeah, I'm looking for a Boxer." She chuckled a bit, shunning her glossed lips away from Spike. Before the girl could refrain from laughing any furthur, an man of about 55 entered the office, almost completely covered in tribal art. Spike's eyes followed up the man's skinny legs, wondering what each tattoo meant, but paused when his eyes fell upon the man's wrinkled hands tugging at a thing piece of orange material that clung to his....well his crotch. Spike cringed at the old man in the speedo. The girl continued to giggle under her breath, earning a glare from the mechanic.
"Give it a rest Dana..." His tone warned her that she was on thin ice.
"Sorry Dad....But...." More laughter, which was quickly followed by wild hysteria from the shop. The man glared at Spike, quirking a pierced eyebrow at him.
"Can I help you with something?" Spike shifted his weight.
"You could start by telling me if you're Boxer or not. And then you could finish by putting on some clothes." The man continued his death gaze, finally shaking his head.
"Yeah, I'm Boxer. And I can't.....the Yankees lost so i'm kinda stuck like this today." Rude whistles echoed out of the shop, gaining a sigh from the speedo clad mechanic.
"Let's step into my office, shall we?" Spike followed him into the cubicle he called an office and was glad to see that Boxer was sitted behind a desk, away from the risk of revealing certain body parts Spike preferred not see. "What can I do for you?"
"Duke Vaughan. Ring a bell?" Boxer leaned back in a leather chair, recalling his days with the old friend.
"Yes it does. But why do you wanna know about ol Duke. The man's been dead for a good three years." Spike's opposing eyes drifted to Boxer's own copy of the photograph that Spike had found next to Duke's grave.
"I'll be honest with you, Boxer. My friend is in alot of trouble because of a blueprint that your friend supposedly gave her. She'll either die or get turned in for a bounty. And I just can't let that happen. Now, I need to know as much as Duke as possible. Is there anyone who could know where he had this blueprint." Boxer chuckled.
"Duke was always like that. He always put others at risk without knowing it." Spike slid the dirty photo of Duke's comrades over to Boxer's withered hand. "Well, what do ya know? I forgot all about leaving this thing there. Well....the woman on Duke's arm was his wife, Charlotte. I'd send ya to her but she was murdered years ago. The cute little redhead is Kasey. Last I heard, she took over her father's advertising business. But that was five years ago. She could very well be dead. The other little brunette is Charlotte's little sister, Elizabeth. The guy is was her fiance, Patrick, but the bastard left her at the alter. Haven't heard from him since. You really wanna know about the stuff Duke had gotten into? Find Elizabeth and you'll find answers. Won't be easy though. Lizzie has a tendency to communicate with force." Boxer returned the picture to Spike as he stood to leave.
"Thank you." Boxer motioned a welcome but coudln't shake the dark feeling he had. Duke had formed another weapon? He knew his friend had been careless but in the years he knew Duke, the man would never put anyone in real danger. He had learned from that mistake with Charlotte.
A Life Full Of Saturdays: Tangerine Speedo
Spike sat in front of the t.v . for what seemed like endless hours after his meeting with Faye. John Wayne was forever plastered in Spike's mind. He knew that Faye had dropped a couple of hints to him but he had no idea what they were. He rented 'Fort Apache' and had studied every movement, every scene, every line and yet he had nothing. What in the blue hell was the woman thinking when she dropped her hints? Spike began to rub the sides of his kelly head in frustration when Jet decided to sit next to his friend and try to help out as best as he could with friendly conversation.
"What do you want Jet?" A small string of cigarette smoke swirled up into the air like an exotic dancer. Jet rested his elbows on his knees just like Spike and smiled at the movie his companion was watching.
"Ah, Fort Apache. My dad loved this movie. Although, he just loved John Wayne. He had all of The Duke's movies." Spike raised an eyebrow.
"The Duke?"
"Oh yeah! One of the most famous cowboys that ever roamed the movie screen. Real American idol. He got the nickname from an old Airsdale terrier of his." Edward popped up between them, gracing them with her hyper presence.
"Dukey Dukey! Hahahahahaha!" Her high pitched giggles were enough to shove the most sane man off the edge. Yet it didn't bother Spike. He was slowly beginning to put pieces together in his scatterbrained mind. 'Fort Apache....John Wayne....The Duke....Wait? Duke?'
Flashback
"Stop." Spike did as told and answered the command with a questioning glance. Faye rubbed at her forehead, almost forgetting that she couldn't cover up the action with hair, for it was pinned up tightly in a messy bun. "I'm sorry but this is just too weird for me."
"Yeah, tell me about it. Who would've thought that you and I could dress this nicely?"
"No, it's no that. It's just....i've had this conversation with someone else, someone close to me, and he ended up dying that night."
"Duke..." Jet glanced over his shoulder and found a glazed over Faye ready to shed tears.
End Of Flashback
Spike shot up from the couch with a look of an inventor who had just revealed his latest creation that actually worked. He yanked Ed up from her tiger-like postion on the floor and held her up to his face.
"Ed! I need you to look for a Duke in the Red Dragon Syndicate!"
"Um...Okay...." Jet was quickly at Ed's defense, though unable to pry his compatriot's fingers from the teenager's tank top.
"Spike! What is this about?!" Spike finally let Edward fall to the ground so she could skimper back to her Tomato and began her long search for the infamous Duke.
"That's the guy Jet! Duke! He knew somehow knew Faye and he was the man she dropped hints about."
It was nearly two hours later when Ed came upon a picture of a man with deep set eyes and deep cobalt hair, sporting the name 'Duke Vaughan' written in white, bold letters beside it in the Syndicate files. Spike had to admit that Ed was some serious danger for hacking into those files. The Red Dragons were experts when it came to computer systems and found it a danger when a hacker would stumble upon their files. But Spike wouldn't let anything happen to the computer genius. He would be damned if the Syndicate got anyone else close to him.
"Duke Vaughan. Entered the Syndicate at age 16 and managed to escape at 23. Hunted down but never actually captured. Skilled in the areas of biochemistry and gun handling." Jet's deep voice was soft but loud enough to reach Spike in the kitchen. The bounty hunter rubbed his smooth chin as Jet's voice continued to read Duke's achievements.
"Where can we find this Duke Vaughan?" Jet scanned over the computer screen before coming to a good conclusion.
"Uh...Ives Cemetery. He's dead Spike." Dead?! Why would Faye lead him to a dead man?! Dead men couldn't tell him of a location of some stupid biochemical weapon that the Syndicate would use to their advantage! And dead men certainly wouldn't be able to spit out embarrassing stories of the huntress, which was one of the perks of finding a man who had known Faye before him.
The cemetery was hardly gloomy or barren as movie producers like to make them out to be. If anything, the Ives Cemetery was bright and bountiful with fresh flowers from mourning loved ones. The grass was greener than most cemeteries Spike had visited, which wasn't many, and flourished with neatly kept trees and a dirt free sidewalk. Spike searched through the many tombstones, hoping one would be stuck with a photo of the former mobster. Spike also hoped that Duke was the man's real name. It was nearly lunchtime when Spike nearly tripped over a gravestone, marked with Duke's name and a short remark about how he was important. He also found a photo of a group of people, including a younger Duke, consisting of an overly tattooed bald man, a perky brunette hooked onto Duke's arm, a redhead in a waitress outfit, another aubrun haired woman who was riding the back of an ebony haired man in a suit. Spike flipped the photo over to read the scribbled message : 'To Duke - may your rest with the memories of your time with the Posse and say hi to Charlotte for me. Miss you too much for words - Boxer.' Spike returned to the scene of friends and squinted to make out the bald man's nametag on his work shirt. It was titled 'Frank's Auto - Boxer.' Of all good luck!
Frank's Auto was nothing more than a mere body shop that consisted of tired old men who just loved to work on cars. And they were good at it too. The word on the street was that Frank's Auto was the best custom body shop in all of Mars. And Boxer, much to Spike's surprise, was still alive and kicking. He entered the office of the shop, sounds of sparks flying into an open shop drifting through the open doors. He could tell that someone had cracked a joke at somepoint by the wild laughter floating around. A small bell let the petite blonde at the front desk know of Spike's entering.
"Can I help you?" If Spike hadn't been worried about the safety of Faye, he would have easily gave in to his manly temptations and flirted with the young beauty. She was rough around the edges but cute nonetheless.
"Yeah, I'm looking for a Boxer." She chuckled a bit, shunning her glossed lips away from Spike. Before the girl could refrain from laughing any furthur, an man of about 55 entered the office, almost completely covered in tribal art. Spike's eyes followed up the man's skinny legs, wondering what each tattoo meant, but paused when his eyes fell upon the man's wrinkled hands tugging at a thing piece of orange material that clung to his....well his crotch. Spike cringed at the old man in the speedo. The girl continued to giggle under her breath, earning a glare from the mechanic.
"Give it a rest Dana..." His tone warned her that she was on thin ice.
"Sorry Dad....But...." More laughter, which was quickly followed by wild hysteria from the shop. The man glared at Spike, quirking a pierced eyebrow at him.
"Can I help you with something?" Spike shifted his weight.
"You could start by telling me if you're Boxer or not. And then you could finish by putting on some clothes." The man continued his death gaze, finally shaking his head.
"Yeah, I'm Boxer. And I can't.....the Yankees lost so i'm kinda stuck like this today." Rude whistles echoed out of the shop, gaining a sigh from the speedo clad mechanic.
"Let's step into my office, shall we?" Spike followed him into the cubicle he called an office and was glad to see that Boxer was sitted behind a desk, away from the risk of revealing certain body parts Spike preferred not see. "What can I do for you?"
"Duke Vaughan. Ring a bell?" Boxer leaned back in a leather chair, recalling his days with the old friend.
"Yes it does. But why do you wanna know about ol Duke. The man's been dead for a good three years." Spike's opposing eyes drifted to Boxer's own copy of the photograph that Spike had found next to Duke's grave.
"I'll be honest with you, Boxer. My friend is in alot of trouble because of a blueprint that your friend supposedly gave her. She'll either die or get turned in for a bounty. And I just can't let that happen. Now, I need to know as much as Duke as possible. Is there anyone who could know where he had this blueprint." Boxer chuckled.
"Duke was always like that. He always put others at risk without knowing it." Spike slid the dirty photo of Duke's comrades over to Boxer's withered hand. "Well, what do ya know? I forgot all about leaving this thing there. Well....the woman on Duke's arm was his wife, Charlotte. I'd send ya to her but she was murdered years ago. The cute little redhead is Kasey. Last I heard, she took over her father's advertising business. But that was five years ago. She could very well be dead. The other little brunette is Charlotte's little sister, Elizabeth. The guy is was her fiance, Patrick, but the bastard left her at the alter. Haven't heard from him since. You really wanna know about the stuff Duke had gotten into? Find Elizabeth and you'll find answers. Won't be easy though. Lizzie has a tendency to communicate with force." Boxer returned the picture to Spike as he stood to leave.
"Thank you." Boxer motioned a welcome but coudln't shake the dark feeling he had. Duke had formed another weapon? He knew his friend had been careless but in the years he knew Duke, the man would never put anyone in real danger. He had learned from that mistake with Charlotte.