Tobira
By Naoko Asakura
Disclaimer: I don't own Cowboy Bebop! Don't kill me, please!
Author's Note: Yeah, the only other thing that I've written for the CB section was my poem "Vincent"… Check it out, if you like. This is my first story for CB, so wish me luck on getting the characters right.
…Well, it's sort of a story. I'm thinking this up as I go. Nyah.
Doors.
Why'd they have to make this one so small? Faye Valentine wondered irritably as she attempted to cram all of her shopping bags through the entrance of the Bebop. A small fraction of her still felt pleased that she'd finally won a dog race. Her share of the last bounty they (meaning her, along with her fellow crew members) dragged in had doubled when she bet all her woolongs on a gimpy dog named "Putty". Her sympathy had paid off big time… At least in her eyes. She also had enough sense to pull out when she was getting hot, since on the way to the races she had been eyeing a cute pair of boots in a fancy shop window. After she'd won, she nearly skipped to the shop to purchase the darling little things. Upon trying them on though, she realized that in order to buy the boots, she should probably coordinate and purchase an entire outfit based around the three inch heeled shoes.
"Aaaah, what a long day." She sighed, dropping her bags on the floor of the sitting room. She smirked, knowing that no one was there to question her large amount of purchases. Her voice echoed off the walls of the Bebop, and she laughed. She'd always loved the sound of her own voice. Even if that poofy haired loser had told her that her singing was off key.
Thinking of her business associate of sorts, she grumbled and dropped herself onto the yellow couch as if she were fainting. She reached out at the low metal table in front of her and groped for the remote control to their small television, and when she felt her fingers wrap around the cold assistant, she smiled again.
"Finally, I get some time to myself!" She crowed happily, turning the television on in a brief flash. She flipped through channels lazily, finally settling on an infomercial that described a face masque gel made from Ganymede Sea Rat fat that worked wonders on the pores.I wonder if that'd work… She thought, raising a thin eyebrow. She ran her nails through her purple tresses tiredly and shifted to her other side, her nose pressing into the back of the couch. Time to sleep. I'll think about buying that crap later.
Spike Spigel frowned as he pressed the button for the second time. Why won't this damn thing open? He wondered as he jabbed his thumb at the button once more. He could see the entrance to the Bebop strain against something and scratched the top of his head.I wonder… Finally, his eyes shifted their gaze downwards, and he saw that a small, black cylinder was caught behind the door. The green haired man pressed the button again, so not to cut his fingers off as soon as he removed the resisting force, then squatted to get a better look at the cylinder. What the- He yanked the bit of plastic out and squinted at it
"No way…" He muttered to himself, grimacing in irritation. He removed the top of the plastic cylinder and twisted the bottom. A stick of red greasy lipstick. He quickly capped the makeup and opened the door. He was about to shout at her for his cosmetic mishap, but he tripped over a large bag with the name "L'Arc" embossed on the side in hot pink cursive. He rubbed his aching chin and looked behind him at the mountain of shopping bags and nearly had a stroke.
Where the hell did she get all this damn money? He got to his feet, brushing the dust from his suit jacket. That woman! Jeez! His eyes searched the room, and he quickly spotted the woman curled up on the couch. With a snort of indignation, he stormed over to her. The hard expression on his face suddenly melted when he realized that she was asleep
Sure, he'd seen her asleep too many times to count, but there was something really different about this time. His head tilted to the side, and he watched her with rust eyes filled with bewilderment and wonder at the same time.
Somehow, she looked a lot younger. A lot more innocent. Her headband had fallen off due to movement in her sleep, causing her hair to fall in her eyes. It reminded him of the movie he'd watched. His lips were caught in a small smile as he was reminded of how cute she was before the future twisted her personality to make her selfish and irritating.
He sighed heavily, and gently lifted her legs from the couch. He sat down, placing her legs on his lap. As he was removing her white boots, he couldn't fathom why his chest was hurting for such a brazen woman. He leaned over her small feet to set her shoes on the floor, and as he was straightening back out, realized something that filled his heart with despair.
Of course she'd act the way she was. Her past was gone, and she was a stranger in a strange land. With everything ripped from her in one fell swoop, it was no wonder she had a 'take all you can get and run' kind of attitude.
Spike's elbow leaned against the back of the couch, his hand cradling the side of his face as he watched her sleeping face. He hated himself for his sympathy, but he knew that his realization was right. In a way, he'd gained a new sort of respect for the woman.
…That was when he opened his mouth wide, a gaping yawn escaping him. He closed his eyes and rubbed the water out of them with two hands.
"…I might as well just crash right here. Who cares?" He muttered under his breath as he rested his head against the cushions behind him.
Just for a while… I'm too tired.
Jet Black walked through the front door of the Bebop, his arms full of groceries. Without a word, he shot a surprised glare at Faye's shopping bags on the floor. He wasn't one to care about that kind of thing anyways, and he continued to the small kitchen. He was setting the groceries down on the counter when he heard a soft groan from back in the living room.
"Huh?" He poked his balding head out to survey the common area, and his brows shot up his head in shock at the fuzzy green head snoring softly on the couch. Well, it wasn't that that surprised him so much. It was the fact that there were a pair of dainty and feminine feet hanging off the couch on one side, and on the other side, locks of purple spilled over the arm rest. "Those two…?" He thumbed his chin in thought of the two bounty hunters. With a soft sigh through the side of his mouth, he walked back to the kitchen to take care of the groceries.
Well, no use asking. They're asleep anyways… And I for one don't want to wake either of them up. I'll let Ed do that when she gets back.
.Owari.
