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Author's note: Sorry it took me so long. I got distracted what with my new laptop coming and the prospect of seeing this guy at this party and its totally been consuming my life of late. Oh and that research essayish thing Mr. Tibbles gave us. That too. So tell me how you like the two new characters. The beginning of this was really hard because I've never worked from Faye's perspective. Usually I work from Jet's. Ah well if it turns out bad it turns out bad
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Faye looked at the assembly of food on the counter, resting her head on her shoulder, and her shoulder on the doorway, her arms folded in the way that allowed her to hang on to her own elbows.
Jet glanced at her from the corner of his eye as he chopped the carrots. He recognized that look in her eyes from the good two years she was with them. He slowly slid his focus back to the carrots. "There's no extra money, Faye. Besides, I've never given you handouts before. What makes you think that I'll do it now?"
Faye groaned. "ugh! I don't think I can stand another night of steamed vegetables. Jet, where'd all the bounty heads go?"
Jet scowled. "They all got squished under someone else's shoe. Ganymede's got a public enemy no. 1 now, do you know?"
She leaned in. "What? No I didn't. What's he like?"
Jet continued with his over-attentive vegetable chopping. "She. They know just about as much about her as Vincent. All they have to go on are police sketches and patterns, but so far, the only connections are stolen technology equipment and false identity. People would have to be crazy to go after her. That's why the posted reward is so big."
Faye blinked. "A reward? How much?"
Jet paused to brandish a spoon at her. "Remember Vincent?"
Faye rasied a brow. "What, so she's all the way up to three hundred million!"
Jet's glare was deadly. "Not even close. Since the government's mostly the victim here, the state of Ganymede put out a two billion woolong bounty. Two billion, Faye. And she's not even threatening all life on the planet."
Faye legs literally gave out. She was only able to save her dignity by gripping the wall and pulling herself back up. "How much?" She wasn't crazy enough to go after that. Nobody would be. "You're not thinking of going after her, are you?"
But Jet's face still held the same solid rock expression. We gotta eat right?"
"Well then let's just go to Mars. I'm sure there are lots of small fries there we can go after instead of this maniac."
"I never said you have to go after her. Dinner's ready, so help yourself. I'll eat later.
Jet abruptly walked out of the kitchen, apron still on, and down the steps on his way to his destination, wherever it was.
"What, are you trying to kill yourself!" She yelled after him, flinging her hands up heatedly. "Fine! You go do that, but of all the people to go insane, and at any time, Jet-!" She groaned again as he disappeared, and took a few angry steps toward the food. "Why do I hang out with the shittiest crowds?"
Faye stared at the stirfry. It was probably cold by now. She wouldn't want to eat it even if she had an appetite. Why did Jet have to pick this moment to go insane? She'd always relied on him to be the one to knock some sense into people, even herself occasionally. Jet was always there for advice, even if she didn't listen to it. Now he thought he could do whatever the hell he wanted, and just because Spike was dead. Did he feel that he had nothing else to lose? Did he hate her that much that he'd just leave her to go off and risk his life? Maybe that was it; maybe he couldn't stand living now that HE was dead. She pounded the countertop with a fist, tears of rage leaving thick tracks of salt on her cheeks. She hated it. She hated them both. No matter how hard she tried, or how well she did, those two always excluded her. They pretended like they were in a secret club, always sending coded messages to each other. If Spike left, Jet automatically understood. If Jet left…Well, Jet never left, but if he had, Spike would've just laughed it off and said that he'd come back. Well screw them both, they could go to hell. Them and their little code.
A small voice popped up in Faye's head. 'But what about that time when he was fixing your ship?' Jet said that Spike was nothing but trouble. Jet didn't give a damn. Was he just so pissed that he didn't care anymore? Had they thrown him over the edge? Why was she worrying so much about JET? She could fend for herself; she didn't need a traveling companion. But where would she go? The fact that she had nowhere else to turn to had forced her to make a home here. And as soon as she decided to settle down for good, that damned Spike had to leave and ruin everything for everybody. And that girl too, and Ein. Dammit, Jet was the only one left.
Faye felt the need to Punch something else, which turned out to be the wall. She needed to find Jet again; it didn't feel right to her that he would do such a thing.
Lorraine sat straight up in bed, which by now was drenched with sweat. She took in her surroundings; the plain white walls of the cheap apartment she and D.J. had rented. There were file cabinets and chests filled to the brim with every kind of stolen technological marvel. The stuff that didn't fit inside was piled on top, creating the illusion of one big computer-y mound. She slid down the ladder of her loft bed, and pulled a pair of jeans on before walking into the kitchen. To her surprise, the light was on.
DJ sat there at the dinky little table, skin parched by the light from his laptop screen, his data goggles on and connected by weird tube-looking wires to sensors on the tips of his fingers, which were typing away furiously.
"…You're still up?"
He continued to tap the keyboard for about thirty seconds, then paused, taking his goggles off and placing them on the parlor window next to him. He massaged his eye sockets and grinned. "Of course, who needs sleep?" He said sarcasticly as he watched her fish in a cabinet for aspirin.
"That's unhealthy. You're going to get deprivation and start to hallucinate."
The hacker raised his eyebrows. "I can say the same for you. Every night you wake up and come in here. Either you've got a dependency for ibu profin, or you have some seriously twisted nightmares. That's not natural for someone your age."
Lorraine glared at him. "Thank you, Dr. Phil. When did I ever tell you how old I was?"
"Come on, I haven't had any since I was twelve."
She looked envious as she swallowed the pill with a glass of water. "Consider yourself lucky."
He merely laughed and murmered to himself as she walked out the door. "If you really think so…"
She rolled her eyes as she went into the TV room. "There anything good to watch?"
D.J. called back from the kitchen. "It's three in the morning. All you're going to get is infomercials and porno."
"HEY!" She called back, mock defensively. "Some porno is written VERY well!" She flicked the TV on. The screen lit the room with its eerie grey light. The familiar tune of Big Shot came on. Already the rerun had moved into the classic cancelled stations. It was kind of sad that the ganymedians didn't watch anything else. And their stereotype was of a cultured snob, too.
Shuuuucks Ghowdeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! All three meelleeon bountee ghunters een thee seestem; ghow y'all DOin?"
"Saddle up buckaroos it's time for Big Shot! Pachooom!"
"Wee breeng you the low down on all the ghot bountee ghea…"
Lorraine kind of tuned out at that point, the remote hanging limply from the tips of her tomboyish fingers as she plopped her chin on D.J.'s shoulder. He must have moved next to her a while ago.
He smiled and wrapped his arm around her waist. "Tired?" He asked. This time his tone was softer, more sincere, as the corners of his mouth twitched upward.
She sighed and crumpled into a cat-like ball as she shifted her ear onto the shoulder. "Oh hell…"
He chuckled softly. "I don't want the fame Either, Jane…"
She snorted and replied grudgingly; "You don't have the fame."
"They pretty much nailed you dead on in that police sketch you know…"
"I know."
"And the public doesn't even know what you've done."
"I know."
"Just that you're wanted dead or alive."
Lorraine was starting to get impatient. "I KNOW."
"And the funny thing is they think they're onto some sort of crimelord orginazation thing an-"
"I KNOW, D.J. I KNOW!" D.J. flinched and turned toward her. Previously her head had slipped down to his lap, but now she was sitting up straight again. They stared at each other for a bit, until she averted her gaze to the television. The images bounced off her mirror glasses.
"I hear enough of that all day D.J. … Can't we talk about something else?" She pleaded. D.J. Hesitated, then sighed. "There's really…nothing else we can talk about, I mean. I don't know anything about you. You don't know anything about me…"
Lorraine looked at him sharply. "What, so you want me to spill my life's story, is that it!"
"no, I…"
Tell you every detail, every turning point in my life? Day by day? Or do you just want me to tell you enough so that you can hack the rest from my records? Which is it, D.J.?"
D.J. sat there and stared. He just stared. "All I-"
"There are things about me you don't want to know. You don't want to know my life. Hell, I don't want to know my life. You wanna know what those nightmare's are about!"
"Jane, I-"
"They're about my stupid everyday life from the age of three all the way up to the age of fifteen, when I met you, D.J.!"
"It's not like-"
"My life has been shit and misery all through it, whether I was oblivious to it or not, and the few things that gave me comfort were all torn away from me in one night."
"I JUST WANT TO KNOW YOUR NAME!" Lorraine faltered. D.J.'s chest heaved, and despite himself, his eyes were wet. "Is that so much to fucking ask, Jane? A real, solid god forsaken name."
Lorraine still stared at him. "Lord knows, its been nearly five years." He said anrily, standing up and walking out.
She seeme to mouth a word at his back as he walked out, ut he didn't see it. "I hope your happy with yourself."
She heard the bedroom door close. She just sat there for a while, the silhouettes of forgotten figures playing against the wall. Finally she had enough sense to turn the tv off. She sat there in the dark, listening to the cars and ships passing outside. After a while she broke down and held her head in her hands.