Wow, we're at chapter ten? This amazes me, considering that when I first started this fic, I only intended it to be a two-part deal for a good friend's birthday. And then, as most stories go, it just started writing itself with my brain as the medium. sigh I am not very surprised about that, actually. It happens pretty often.

Enjoy the chapter! There's more Gren for all you saxophone-playing pretty-boy fans out there! But only briefly this time, I'm afraid.

Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop. No profit is being made from this fan work.

Chapter title from Yoko Kanno's "Blue."

Kites Without Strings -- Part Ten: Keep Flashing Off And On

By Gundam Girl

A battle was going to take place on Titan. The recruits had only experienced minor encounters with the rebels; Vicious didn't think anyone had even died yet. That was no war, he thought. There was no real loss until lives were gone.

Gren disapproved of his constantly grim demeanor toward human life. "You always talk about it like it's completely disposable. Lives can't be replaced in any simple way, Vicious. Don't you have some kind of life that's precious to you?"

Gren had almost asked him about Julia but had wisely held his tongue. Someone like Vicious probably didn't appreciate being pressed for personal information.

"Perhaps," Vicious told him in his low, always-even voice. "Currently, it's debatable. I won't be sure until my return to Mars."

"Well, they're giving out phone-calls. Unlimited lines, but you only get five minutes. I don't have anyone I want to call," Gren added, "so if there's someone you feel like talking to before we all go die or whatever, take the time I'm supposed to have."

Vicious studied Gren for a moment. He was lying on the bottom bed of the bunk they shaped, smoking like usual and staring at the underside of the mattress above him. His cerulean eyes suddenly turned to the stoic man and Vicious turned his gaze away from him.

"Go ahead," the saxophonist encouraged him. "Make the call."

Vicious walked out of the tent that served as a cabin. He didn't know if he would or not, but either way, he was away from Gren.

Something about a man that carefree made Vicious dislike his presence.

o0o

The hours Spike spent with Julia were blissful, but there was always worry in the corner along with questions that they both did and didn't want answered.

When would Vicious return?

How would he find out?

Did he already know?

Who would he kill first?

They kept their concerns to themselves and turned to each other for reassurance, however temporary it might have been. Spike went to syndicate meetings in Vicious' place. Julia visited Annie often and helped with the store. They indulged in long walked together but were careful of the location. If certain people saw them, it wouldn't necessary be harmless.

For a few days, Spike was truly happy. And he wanted to believe that Julia was too.

And then came the day of the first sting the Red Dragons had held in four months. As that was a considerably long time for a usually-busy organization, Spike was itching for some action. It was his nature. Julia wasn't as enthusiastic.

The morning of the sting, she spoke to him. "Do you honestly have to be with them? I thought Class B was taking care of it. Vicious runs Class A."

"I run Class B," Spike reminded her gently. "Lin just got Class C assigned to him last month, and he's barely had the time to gain some real leadership experience. I should help him out. It would be unfair of me to leave it to him."

"It would be unfair," Julia retorted, a slight waver to her tone, "if you went out and died tonight."

Spike paused in putting on his trench coat. They were in her kitchen. He was standing by the door, and she was sitting at the table with a mug of coffee cooling between her hands. Her face, he noted, was turned toward him and seemed slightly pale. She was always so pale…

His voice was soft, low, and still filled the room. "I'm not going to die tonight."

She looked down into her mug and blinked rapidly. Do not cry, she ordered herself. She only whispered, "You don't know that."

"Julia." Stepping toward her, he pulled her from the chair He had a sudden flash of the night he'd first kissed her, and he jerked her against him. Her hands held him behind his shoulders. "I love you," he murmured, his fingers threading through the silken waves of her hair. "But I still have responsibilities to the Dragons. And I have to fulfill them." Even if it only means we survive a little longer, he added silently.

Julia's eyes were narrowed as she pressed her cheek against his shoulder. "But what if you—"

He stilled her with a quiet kiss. "I'll be back," he promised, moving away. "I always am."

It was too easy, Julia decided once he had gone, taking his heat and leaving her wanting. Too easy to trust his dark tone and dark eyes. She found herself believing him – but that didn't make the concern go away.

Wringing onehand, she gulped down her coffee, planning a late night waiting up with a book she probably wouldn't get through a chapter of.

The phone rang, and Julia felt a bubble of hope. Maybe it was Annie offering company for the evening. She'd certainly accept it, she thought as she lifted the receiver. "This is Julia Mandir."

"Julia."

Her hand jerked, and coffee spilled over the rim of her mug and onto the back of her hand. Although the beverage scorched, she couldn't feel it because all of her blood went positively icy. "Vicious!"

"You sound so surprised," he said evenly. There was a harsh sound against the line, as though wind was rushing by Vicious' end.

"Well…of course I am," she replied, forcibly lightening her mood. "I didn't think there would be any contact from you on Titan. Are you all right?" She winced, knowing her voice sounded false. Hopefully, he would interpret it as shock.

"I am well." There was a pause. Julia considered the possibility of how rarely they had spoken on the phone. Usually, Vicious would call on her in person. "How's Spike doing?"

"I – I don't know," she answered hurriedly, hunting for words. "I suppose he's fine. There hasn't been any talk of the Dragons going down yet."

"That's satisfactory. How are you?"

There was a coolness to his tone that Julia didn't like; it was colder than it normally was. "I'm alright. I…miss you."

"Ah."

" 'Ah'? " What the hell did that mean, Julia wondered. "When will you be home?" she furthered.

"I've no idea. We haven't had any major battles yet. One is expected tonight. That's why I'm calling."

"I see." She was shaking so badly, she had to set down her mug or risk dropping it. "Please be careful, Vicious."

"Naturally." She could picture him, his smile completely lacking any hint of warmth. "With luck, I'll see you soon."

"Yes. Soon," she muttered.

"Take care."

"You too. Bye," she whispered, hanging up quickly. She sank back against the wall and swallowed. Vicious wasn't stupid. He must have heard the fright in her voice. The one emotion Vicious fully understood was fear. He used it to his advantage; if he could, he'd do so with her.

Eyes bright with worry, Julia went to wash the coffee from her hand.

Please, Spike. Survive for me.

o0o

Spike was grateful when Lin gave him a cigarette. They night was brink and his nerves were cold. He had a bad feeling. He'd had a lot of those recently.

"All right?" asked Lin casually. He had the collar of his coat pulled up, his slanted eyes alert.

Spike took a long drag and let the smoke pour from between his lips as he talked. "Never better." He may have looked full of confidence, but he didn't exude it by any means.

"Hope you're sharp tonight," Lin went on. "You've got a bunch of agents here who're eager to see Spike Spiegel in action."

The idea made him smirk a bit, but his thoughts were depressing. At least there were still people with lives not as troubled as his. "I guess it's up to me to put on a show then, right?"

"Okay." Lin motioned to his group and it piled into an unmarked van. "See you at the jewelry shop."

Asana's Gems and Jewels wasn't quite the run-of-the-mill ring seller. They carried the regular diamonds and rubies…along with a hell of a lot of drugs, mainly Bloody-Eye, in the storeroom. It was property of a neighboring syndicate on Tharsus looking to make a profit from a group of rich druggies on Europa. The Red Dragons weren't intercepting the load with visions of justice…

But if the Europans still wanted their goods after their first dealers had "lost" them, the Red Dragon Clan would be more than happy to offer it to them for a far better-defined price.

It had all the markings of a genius Mao Yenrai plot. The fellow knew business. Spike was grateful that Mao wasn't a selfish guy, either – he'd practically been raised by the crime lord – otherwise he'd still be on the street…if he was lucky. Most likely, he'd be dead.

As he followed Shin to his convertible, his thoughts went to Julia, which hardly surprised him. She was always present in some overshadowed corner of his mind and had been since he'd first set eyes on her. He supposed that in the case of other men, the women in their minds shone brightly and pushed the shadows in the corner away. For him, Julia didn't do that. And he didn't want her to. They needed their nights and shadows. In the dark, they would be together, could have each other...he could love her, shaded from the world.

What if we go?

The thought entered his mind so abruptly that he forgot to brace himself as Shin screeched around a curb, and he hit his shoulder on the door.

No, they couldn't do that, at the very least not yet. Vicious might be back as soon as tomorrow and the only safe way to completely avoid him would be to leave as soon as Spike returned tonight. But such a hasty escape wouldn't work. Vicious would be angry, and anger pitted with syndicate resources would get them caught within a month. They would have to stay for now, stay and work it out, then leave once Vicious was too busy to bother with either of them for a few days.

"Let's go, Spike!" Shin's young voice called eagerly. He pulled his gun from inside his trench coat, and Spike did the same.

"Remember that show," Lin reminded him as the two brothers flanked the door of the jewely shop.

Aware of the eyes watching him from the van, Spike lifted a leg and swiftly kicked in the door, wood splintering and flying everywhere.

Since it was after after-hours, no one was in the place except for fifteen or twenty dealers, working sloppily. Boxes carrying drug-filled vials were in plain sight on the floor. The startled expressions on their faces were given away by gaping mouths. Each of them wore sunglasses even though it was nighttime.

"Well, aren't you all inconspicuous?" Spike felt the other Red Dragon members shuffle into the store behind him, weapons out.

The syndicate member closest to Spike whipped out a switchblade and swept forward. Spike easily turned away from the attack and kneed the guy in the gut. His would-be killer crumpled to the floor. "Come on, boys," he invited. "There're a lot of shots to be taken. Surely one of you can get something in."

Chaos exploded not unexpectedly. Spike felt bullets and blades whiz past him as he took men down two or three at a time. He punched, kicked, and chopped, drawing the attention of other Red Dragon agents who, for the most part, stopped fighting to watch. Lin and Shin joined him in the center of the room to take out the final three enemy agents.

"Well," Spike joked to Lin, "that's that."

"You okay?" asked Lin. "You're sweating pretty hard."

"Couple o' suckers got a few lucky shots in – got me in some nerve points. I'm alright though." Wiping the damp from his brow, he grinned. If he was honest, he might need a longer rest than usual, and a first-aid kit. "Nice workout, but I'm ready to get home."

"Take my car," Shin said, tossing him the keys with absolute trust. "I'll go with Lin."

"We'll pack up," Lin added, "so go ahead and take off. Thanks for the entertainment. You were good, as always."

Spike chuckled. "Well, if I didn't amuse you guys, you'd end up at bars on Saturday nights like normal people."

He left the cleanup job to the twins. Grateful for Shin's generous offer, he walked to the convertible outside. He was already thinking of some clever, told-you-so statement to Julia.

"How's that for dying?" he murmured to himself with a weak smile – his bottom lip was split.

"I don't know," a voice from beside him quipped. "How's this?"

Spike whirled in the driver's seat to his left side, saw the switchblade flash, but couldn't pull out of his thoughts quickly enough. The knife came up, the down roof of the car giving easy access and a simple shot to his face – which was taken. Spike grunted, shocked as the blade flicked past his nose…and directly through his right eye.

Set on dead impulse, Spike grabbed his attacker by the throat and, with his eye that wasn't full of blood, recognized the man as the first enemy agent he'd dropped tonight. He tightened his grip; the man was dead before the car clock could change a digit.

Spike released the man and put the car into drive. Blood stained the steering wheel.

o0o

When it hit two in the morning, Julia shut the novel she'd been sitting at the table with. She'd gotten through five pages in a total of four hours, and she wasn't entirely sure what those pages had been about.

Face stern, she pulled on the closest jacket at hand, a black leather one, and dashed out the door, taking the stairs two at the time down to the building's exit.

She was going to Annie's. Spike usually stopped at her place for cigs or a bottle of something after a mission. If she was going to see Spike as soon as he finished, he would go there.

She pulled back the door and took note of the blue convertible parked badly with its front wheel on top of the sidewalk.

"Jul…"

She instantly glanced toward the sound, which happened to come from near her feet. She thought her blood simply evaporated. "Oh…God…"

Sprawled across the doorstep, hurt and tired and bleeding profusely, was Spike.

He managed to lift his head enough to send her a poor, humorless grin. Julia gasped at the sight of his face; his right eye was bulging, bruise, and still streaming blood. His left eyes, its usual color of dark garnet, was glazed and probably saw her in a blurred image. "At least," he panted, "the boys got their show." His smile faded along with his consciousness, and hisgood eyerolled back, head falling facedown to the concrete.

Julia couldn't feel the rain when it began to come down in hard, ruthless sheets. She couldn't hear it hit the streetlamp, the road, the damn car. She could only feel and hear her own heart as it threatened to strain and shatter. Her hands quaked violently as she felt Spike's bloody neck for a pulse. She found one, but it was alarmingly faint. Julia knew that if she looked in the convertible, there would be obvious signs of major blood loss.

With some effort, she managed to pull his battered body into the hall of the apartment. And then it was all Julia could do not to panic as she raced back upstairs to dial the number Vicious had given her in case she ever needed emergency help from the syndicate:

Mao Yenrai.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

Review please!