DISCLAIMER: I don't own Cowboy Bebop. I do own Tilly. I am hungry.

A/N:Sorry this is a short update. :o)


Tilly pulled the collar of her jacket (well, Spike's jacket) up to block the wind from the incessant blizzard. She had been killing time on Callisto for close to a week now, waiting for her contact. If he didn't show up tonight, though, Tilly was flying back to the Bebop. Spike was probably salivating at the Swordfish's disappearance by now.

She pulled open the door to the bar, the same rat-hole bar she'd been going to for a week now, and was nearly pulled backward as a gust of bitter wind flung the door open wide. She steeped in quickly and began trying to pull the door shut. The bartender reached around her and added his weight to the effort. Another gust of wind sent Tilly and the man flying into a nearby table. As she righted herself, Tilly and the bartender, Jake, laughed. This was the third time they had found themselves introducing themselves to that table's occupants.

"Same thing tonight Miss Dowe?" Jake asked. Tilly smiled and nodded as she grabbed her usual seat near the piano. She was known here only as Dowe, Miss Dowe to Jake who had taken a liking to her after she laughed off being nearly crushed by the blizzard and his bulk the first time, nearly eight years ago. In all that time, he had never pried into her life, except to offer her a room at his wife's insistence. Tilly had refused, of course, but since then she had always arranged meetings in his bar, knowing Jake would step in if it got out of hand, so she wouldn't have to blow her cover.

Jake came to her table with her regular drink, an ice-cold dirty gin martini, and bent low to her ear.

"Guy at the bar askin' for Dowe. Want me to send him this way?"

"Which one?" Tilly asked, surveying the men standing at the bar. Her gaze locked on him. A blonde man was trying very hard to make himself look nondescript. "Never mind, Jake. Send him over." Tilly took a sip of her drink and closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the smooth taste of juniper mixed with olive brine. When she opened her eyes, she saw the blonde man approaching her table. "Have a seat," she gestured. Tilly never smiled during formalities at Jake's bar.

"Dowe?" The man seemed surprised to find a woman waiting for him. Tilly smirked inwardly. Every time she got the same reaction.

"I speak for Dowe," she replied. This always put a client at ease, and Tilly had to restrain a laugh as the man visibly relaxed. "What can I do for you?"

"I've come with a message for Dowe and Dowe alone."

Tilly tilted her head and took a long slow sip of her drink, never taking her eyes from the stranger. Slowly she swallowed and set her glass down. The man fidgeted in his seat, uncomfortable with the steel gaze from the small woman.

"I'm the closest to Dowe you'll ever get. If you want to pass a message, talk now. Otherwise I suggest you stop wasting my time."

The blonde man regarded her, appraising her words and came quickly to a decision.

"My name is Swift Campbell." Tilly raised a brow.

"Interesting name, but what's it to me?"

"I come on behalf of my employer to inform Dowe that Boris Shae has been gaining work by presenting himself as Dowe's successor." Swift noticed the subtle change in Tilly's posture, the steel that entered her eyes. "My employer has employed this man in the past, with – mixed results. I have been authorized to engage the real Dowe's services in ridding my employer of this man's persistent incompetence."

Tilly leaned forward onto the table and bent her head, staring into her gin. After a long moment, she looked up to Swift.

"You should have come to Dowe first, instead of going with Shae. Dowe refused him for a reason."

Swift smiled a lazy grin.

"A reason my employer has become painfully aware of. What would Dowe charge for this information?"

"Just what I was about to ask you," Tilly smiled for the first time. She leaned back in her seat and took another sip of her drink as Swift's smile softened.

"This man is no… No, wait. That's not quite true. Shae is a fool, but a deadly fool. My employer wants him taken care of and removed from his presence. For this, my employer is willing to pay. We thought Dowe would appreciate being offered this task first."

"Dowe will be more than happy to take the job," Tilly replied. "You keep mentioning your employer. May I ask who that is?" Swift flashed a grin and leaned forward.

"May I ask what you're doing after this?"

Tilly threw her head back and laughed. Swift joined her and Jake looked up from the bar at the sound. He smiled and returned to his work.

"Twelve million woolong. You can leave it with Jake. He knows how to contact me." Tilly downed the last of her drink, grabbed the plastic sword with her two olives and walked away. Swift stared at her glass and waited for the sound of the door opening and closing before he moved. When he was sure she was gone, he pulled a communicator from his pocket.

"It's Swift. Dowe agreed." He signed off and smiled to himself.