Disclaimer- I do not own Cowboy Bebop.

Title- Dangerous Ways

Rating- PG-13

(Author's note- 'tis a short chapter, guys. .)

CHAPTER 3

"WHAT?"

The man sighed heavily as if I should have heard him the first time. Unfortunately, when it came to people telling me that they wanted to kill me I was hard of hearing.

"I'm here to kill you." His eyes were incredibly serious and I was pretty sure he meant what he said.

My heart beat in my ears, and I saw my life pass before my very eyes. It wasn't much of a life, but it was my life. I didn't want it to end so soon! I had tons more races to bet on, card games to lose, and cakes to eat.

Suddenly, amidst all my self-pitying, the man began to laugh. "Excuse me," I said putting my hands on my hips, anger spiking my gaze. "I don't think the subject of my life expiration is a laughing matter!" I said and stomped my foot for emphasis while looking around with my peripheral vision for something I could hit Mr. Psycho over the head with.

The guy smiled innocently and dropped his gun to his side. Mr. Cheery and Sweet with a sadistic sense of humor. Probably he got off as a little kid by pulling wings off flies. "I'm sorry, I'm not really here to kill you, Miss Valentine," he said moving back so he could lean back against the wall. "I just say that sometimes to see what reaction I get. I get a kick out of it, ya know?" He held out his hands, gun still in his right, in a gesture of harmlessness. "No hard feelings, right?"

What the fuck? "Yeah, sure, right, no hard feelings," I said laughing with insane relief and rage boiling inside my stomach. I smiled, choked on a laugh as I walked up to him. "I mean, why should I have hard feelings when you pointed a gun at me and told me you were going to snuff me out like a candle?" I touched his chin with my finger, and he laughed his annoying laugh moving to push me away.

I slammed him up against the wall with everything I had and had the satisfaction of hearing his head crack against the doorframe. "What the hell is your problem, you sick fuck!" I screamed. I grabbed onto the front of his fancy jacket and tried punching him in the face. Who cared if I got shot; probably there weren't even any bullets in his gun. Probably it was a fake gun. Probably I'd be the one killing him.

My knuckle clipped his chin and I was shoved away.

"Jesus, honey, get a grip!" He was rubbing his chin as if he were in pain.

"Don't call me 'honey'," I spat. I pointed a stiff finger towards my door. "Get the hell out of my apartment, you loon bin!"

"Now wait a minute," the guy said putting his hands up. "Who's calling who a 'loon bin'?"

"Do you like being a sick psychopath!" I screamed at him. "Get the fuck out, or I'm calling the police!" I took my cell phone out.

Then it wasn't in my hand.

For a moment I just stared at my empty palm confused, ears ringing. Then I realized my ears were ringing because of the sound of a gunshot, and that my cell phone was on the floor, a nice clean bullet hole in the middle of it.

I slowly turned back to Sir Psychopath, and felt my fear returning in a rush. He had his gun drawn and had it steadily pointed at me. I needed to get my gun and maybe a bulletproof vest, because the look on his face was deadly.

I was going to die after all!

"Miss Valentine, please sit." He motioned to my couch as if it were his. His voice was stiff, emotionless.

I sat closest to the table on my right, thinking maybe the lamp on top of it would make a good bludgeon. "What do you want?" Point for me. My voice hadn't wavered.

"I want you to move towards the center of the couch, and far away from that lamp."

Damn.

"Good," he said happily as I did what he asked. He was all smiles and cheers again.

"What do you want?" My voice was more edgy than scared.

The man sighed as if explaining himself was going to take its toll on him. "Now, I said that I wasn't here to kill you, but I never said I wasn't going to hurt you."

"What!"

"See, we need to get a message across to someone of your acquaintance. And we decided the best way to do that is to carve you up like a pumpkin." He said this matter-O-factly as if we weren't talking about life or death. "We decided that maybe if you were missing an ear, or both ears, or a couple fingers and toes that probably we'd get the message across to Spiegel, piss him off and make him slip up.

"We'd like very much not to kill you. You know, too much evidence lying around with a dead body and everything. And ISSP tends to track real hard for murderers." Bobbie scratched his head. "But mutilation cases aren't taken very seriously for some reason."

Gee, that put my faith in the law enforcement. "Well, shit, should I thank you for not killing me but for torturing me instead?" The sound of my sarcasm was as thick as my fear. I twisted uncomfortably in my seat. Personally, I liked all my fingers and toes on my hands and feet and I didn't like imagining my life without any of them. "And who is 'we"?"

"None of your business," Pyscho said smiling.

"Oh, come on, if I'm going to get mutilated, at least I get to know by whom!" I was stalling, buying time for something; a moment for me to act or a miracle to happen or something. But this guy seemed to be a professional. After all the time we had conversed he hadn't moved himself or his gun a muscle; he had never let his guard down.

So I prayed Jet would come a few hours earlier than expected to save my ass.

Pyscho sighed. "Fine, you can know my name. It does seem a bit unfair to be maimed anonymously. " He sighed. "The name is Bobbie."

I smirked despite the fear choking my throat. "Bobbie?" It was like naming a pit bull Sunshine.

He blushed. "Yeah. It's kind of a bummer name for an assassin and a part time torturer, but oh well." He moved forward, gun in place. "I really don't want to do this, Miss Valentine."

I shrunk back into the cushions. "Then why do it?"

He shrugged. "Its my job." He took out a pair of handcuffs and threw them at me.

"Gee, Bobbie, kinky."

"Put them on, please."

I didn't move.

"If you don't put them on, I'll shoot you in both your legs so you can't run and then I'll put them on for you." Bobbie had gone all serious now.

Shit. I put the handcuffs on with shaky hands and Bobbie smiled approvingly, moving to help me fasten them completely. Then he stepped back and took out a switchblade that looked sharp and mean, and mentally I said 'ouch'.

"You know Spike isn't going to show up if you hurt me. We weren't what you would call 'good friends'."

Bobbie smiled and shrugged. "I don't ask why I'm ordered to do stuff. I just do it and I was ordered to maim your pretty little body. I could care less whether Spiegel gets a message or drowns in a river.

"Now, what should we do? What to cut off?" He wondered aloud. "A hand? No, without a hand you probably would bleed to death." A toe and a finger? What do you think?" he asked me.

Um, none of the above! "How about you just leave?"

He smiled, and it was almost ruefully. "You're no help. I think I'll just cut off a finger and a few toes. No one will notice toes missing if you wear shoes."

I had to admit, Bobbie was being awfully considerate given the circumstances.

"Okay," he said taking a deep breath. "Hold still, I promise it won't hurt for very long. Maybe a few weeks."

Maybe the rest of my life!

He moved towards me and my mind tried desperately to think of a way to get out of this predicament. I think maybe smoke was coming out my ears as my mind raced.

Bobbie came close, closer, closest, and that knife was gleaming angrily.

Shit!

Then the moment I'd been waiting for came. Bobby had to holster his gun if he wanted to carve me up like a Christmas turkey. He reached out with the knife, probably hoping the promise of a stabbing would keep me from moving, or trying anything stupid. But I liked all my fingers and toes, thank you very much, and I would rather die of a knife wound to the heart than lose any of them. If I had to act stupidly to keep my body in tact, I was going to act stupid. I kicked up as hard as I could in-between Bobbie's legs, and sent that man's testicles half way up into his body.

Bobbie's eyes rolled in the back of his head as he gasped, and he tipped over groaning. But not before slashing out at me and catching me on the thigh as I stood. Pain ripped through me, but I was up and running for the door, opening it and making my escape when I bumped into a hard familiar body.

There was a gunshot next to my ear and Bobbie's groaning stopped. I didn't have to turn around to know that Bobbie's groaning had been silenced forever.

I sagged against the body in front of me and cried.

Author Response- Hey you guys, thanks for reading! Yes, this is Spike and Faye story, but the first few chapters had to set up the scene for Faye's current life. I am wordy and I apologize for that, but I promise that Spike will be making his debut. As for Drake… well Drake is Drake, and he does have a role to play, romantic or no is up for debate. . I apologize for the lacking of action in the story, but I promise I will try and pick it up. , thanks for reading!