Want to apologize for the long wait. And
after I promised. gives readers the promised stick
I just got kinda caught up in summer and visiting my
Mom and all.
Katie, there may
be slight fluff…forecast for sometime…thanks! Pimpin Satan!! glomp
Yay, you liked it, and most definitely finishing this one. I am planning
to finish the other one…eventually. Like right after this one…or sooner. I
cannot let the MASTER PLAN go unwritten. Fallenangel26,
of course I remember you! I'm glad you like it. I'll try not to disappoint
on the A.S.A.P. part next time. Thank you, Kajouka! I was all warm and
squishy when I saw your review. It also reminded me to check the last chapter
again. Woo-hoo! Rashaka, you like it! I'm glad
to not be doing too badly at this whole short thing. : ) Thanks, Samantha! I had behavior down last
chapter. Thank you! I agree, Sarah.
Those type, well I just can't believe…and I want to believe what I read…and I
don't think I have enough sap running through my veins to write one of those
anyway. O.o
Thank you everybody. I was so psyched to see all of the response the last
chapter got. Chapter three has been edited, now let's
see how this one goes. Very nervous again. I have a
sentence inspired by milkdrunk,
and her generous use of parentheses, now that I think of it. She's neato keeno, go check her out.
Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop.
Thoughts are in italics.
Chapter Four:
Search
He concentrated solely on the cold can of beer almost clenched in his left palm. He concentrated on feeling his hand go numb. The fridge was usually empty but whatever was in there stayed cold. He imagined the pads of his fingers and his palm separately from the back of his hand and his wrist.
Then he switched concentration from the cold slab of can in his left hand to the dry papery cigarette, also clenched, but between two fingers, of his right hand. He put the stick to his lips and inhaled deeply concentrating on the sound of the dry paper crackling as it burned and the ax-like smell of the smoke and how it cut the air.
He concentrated on the cig as if it were his first.
He hadn't really noticed the difference between air and smoky air. And there was definitely a difference. He had been so uncomfortable breathing the normal air because it smelled faintly good and sort of warm. But now that he was smoking intensely and holding the cold can he didn't feel the warmth or smell that smell, Thank God.
He didn't want to.
Well, he didn't mind the smell, just who it came from.
He didn't really want to notice so intensely the person that
smell and that body heat came from. She had a crush on him, so what? He
wasn't…crushing back. Most definitely not. He doubted he could (simultaneously
wondering what it would be like).
It was then he realized that she had left the room since he'd zoned out at the
TV trying to get some control over himself. Not that he lost any.
He was just having a silent internal earthquake.
Yea, things were good.
He berated himself for making such a big deal over it, her, sitting on the end of the yellow couch…the way she had been.
The TV clicked off suddenly and he was aware of the stub of his cigarette between his lips and a small sprinkling of ashes down his chest. Examining the vise-like grip he had on the remote, Spike carefully studied his hand as he gently released it to bounce and settle on the couch.
He was suddenly very grateful for the silence.
He needed to relax and think a little.
Feeling the need to ask Faye some more questions propelled him to his feet. Then he wondered exactly what he would ask and that brought him to a halt. Spike put down the unopened can to think better. He felt ridiculously in need of assurance he didn't want to need.
NFA: Well, I feel like I really lost it this chapter. Like, everything. If you made it to the note from the author I am proud of your strong constitution. Sorry this was crap guys. I'm beginning chapter five immediately while I'm on a roll. PLEASE REVIEW.