Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop or any form of the story "Scheherazade." Well, except for this one.

Chapter One

Once upon a time there was a king named Spike Spiegel. His lands stretched far and wide, and he was adored by his people as the strongest leader the country had ever had. If there was ever a foe that threatened to disturb, no matter how large and dauntless, he always managed to chalk up a victory. When his armies were feeling the horrors of war sagging at their hearts, he beckoned them to fight for their own freedom and happiness, and for generations to come, their kingdom, the people's kingdom, would be safe from harm. And never was there a war to be warranted from any of the surrounding countries again.

Although Spike's rule had been a fair amount of time, and he proved to be very successful at his job, he was lonely. Every day, he would attend meetings, sit on his throne and listen to people tell him what was needed of him. And he did it all, for the sake of his people. But at the end of the day, he was alone. His courtiers, knights, and his advisors all went to their homes. Some lived in the castle, but the king was allowed one entire wing completely to himself, and although he was an alright guy, most did not dare to bother him. So he would sit in his room with a cigarette in hand and think of the events of the day, longing for someone to share his wealth and power with.

"Dammit, I need a woman…" He groaned piteously as he blew out smoke. cough-cough … long, lung-bursting drag… holding it… holding it… … hack! fit of coughing

So over the next few weeks, Spike planned a grand ball for the kingdom… He announced that since the economy had been doing so well, on account of his hard-working people, he would give them the biggest, most expensive ball he had ever put on. He invited all of his nobles and counts, including those from neighboring and other friendly countries, along with almost every eligible maiden (most of whom he had never met). They were all to dress in their finest attire, and come in coaches from all over the land. The people were so excited, and loved the king even more for it. And on the big night, while he was getting ready in his chambers, he hoped, with all his heart that he would find someone who he loved, and who loved him back.

And so, as the ball ensued, people danced and drank and ate, they laughed and sang… Spike was walking among them, looking from face to face, searching. What would he see? How would he know? These thoughts kept turning themselves over and over in his head. Face after face after face. And still, he had not found what he was looking for. Before long, he found himself sitting, not in his throne, but an uncomfortable wooden chair in a far and hidden corner of the ballroom. He sat and he watched these people having the time of their lives in his palace, still searching, but not quite so resolutely now. Maybe it was hopeless…

As he stared off into the crowd, he felt a tingling sensation at his shoulder. He brushed it off with the back of his hand, thinking it was just the lack of sleep getting to him. But no, there it was again.

"Hey, I'm trying to talk to you!" Said a female voice at his ear, speaking over the sound of the orchestra. Spike looked up and saw dark green eyes blinking at him, and a shiny head of short and dark… Purple hair. She poked him again. "Well, now that I've got your attention, I was going to ask you to dance." Upon surveying his state up and down, and then up again, she seemed to have reached a conclusion: "but you seem kind of 'under-the-influence,' so then maybe not." Obviously a little upset, she was about to walk away when she felt his hand on her wrist. She stopped. Turning around slowly, she felt the gentle pressure of his hand remove itself.

And Spike, the sensitive man that he was, was thinking at this moment, this would be the perfect opportunity to scan the crowd a bit more… It was about time he got out of his stupor anyway. There were things to be done!

"No, I'm alright." He stood and bowed. "I really would like to dance with you, if you'd still like to, that is." She curtsied, her gloved hand clasping the dark green satin for a brief moment. She had a faint smile on her lips.

When they got to the floor, a slow waltz had just begun, and it filled room with such sweet reverie that people speaking stopped in mid-sentence, and those waiting on the dance floor paused a moment to glance at the orchestra. Little strings of honey seemed to be drifting from the violins and cellos to the delighted ears of every person in the ballroom. A collective sigh was let out by all in attendance, and for a brief moment, all was completely and utterly right with the world.

And so the waltz had begun.