a/n: so, i think it's about time for spike and faye to get back home and get on with life. how about you? well, let's hope things start to go better for these guys, cause goodness knows they deserve it.
and i decided to update today, in hopes that this ridiculous site has gotten its act together and stop being absolutely terrible. so in other words, i only got one review for the last chapter, and had the nerve to actually take that review away from me, which was totally weird. so...perhaps 2 reviews will leave me with an average of 1 this time around...eh, who know. i'm getting tired of this site. well, enough gripping and get to reading.
17. Returns and Exchanges
It was a little after noon when the two missing adults finally arrived back at the Bebop. Thankful that she had "borrowed" Jet's cash card, Faye and Spike where able to eat a cheap breakfast and take a taxi back home. As Spike held on to Faye's waist, helping her inside, they were greeted by a none too happy ex-cop.
"And where in the hell have you two been all night!" Was Jet's frustrated greeting.
"Calm down, Jet," Spike reassured. "We're back, aren't we?"
"I called both your comms a hundred times," he continued, seeming to not have heard Spike at all. "The least you could have done was pick up! Christ, you two are gonna put me in an early grave!"
The couple in question looked at each other and exchanged proud glances. If anyone was going to bring about Jet's early demise, then it very well better had been them. Looking away from each other then, Spike and Faye watched as Ed came bounding into the room, happy as can be and seemingly unphased by their absence.
"Ooh, Spike-person and Faye-Faye are back," she cooed from over Jet's shoulder. "And Spike-person has his arm around Faye-Faye! Does that mean that there is no more immature, over-sexed kids fighting around here anymore?"
"Ed!" Jet groaned as he remembered the hard way that Ed had a habit of repeating what she heard.
"Well, I doubt that we'll stop fighting any time soon," Spike chuckled, "But things will probably be a little better now."
"Yay!" The girl squealed. "Better, letter, Irish Setter!"
And she took off through the Bebop again, back to airplane noises this time, instead of her choo-choo train infatuation. Jet flopped onto the couch, simultaneously relieved that Spike and Faye were back in one piece, but equally angry at them for disappearing without a trace in the first place. But realizing that trying to win with them was like trying to describe Beethoven to a deaf person, he gave up and simply shooed them away.
"And the next time you decide to up and leave without mention again," Jet yelled at them as they headed down the hallway, "you can just stay gone! And please be so kind as to leave my cash card here!"
The younger bounty hunters laughed aloud at their "Papa Jet" and told them that they were glad to see him, too.
Like the old adage says: time flies by when you're having fun. No one would necessarily say that the Beboppers were having "fun", per say, but the two months from Spike's little foray into depressed debauchery, and now, went by rather fast. In that time, not much had changed, seeing as though change wasn't a big thing on the ship, but a few things were different.
Finally off of her crutches, Faye provided the biggest physical change on the Bebop. She was fully mobile once again, which made fights for the last of the leftovers a four way struggle once again. She still walked with a bit of a limp, though, so the doctor had told her to use a cane until her walking normalized again. She was very reluctant to do so, but she had people on the ship that would literally weld the cane to her hand if she refused to use it.
Spike was changing again, too, though his were taking place on the inside. Neither Spike nor Faye had told Jet what had happened that night, and the older cowboy didn't ask, either, but it was an unsaid understanding that suggested something traumatic had occurred. But Spike was better than he was before that incident, so Jet didn't pursue the issue any further.
To aid in the adjustments in Spike's life, all of the alcohol on the Bebop had been poured down the drain or thrown away. Even Jet's secret stash. But that wasn't too surprising, seeing as though Jet's secret stashed away anything was eventually used on his ship of stragglers, anyway. And though no one explicitly said anything about drugs or heroin, little subliminal messages were strewn around the ship. In the bathroom, there was a "just say no" sticker on the mirror, and in kitchen, there was a magnet on the fridge that read: my body is a temple, and I only put good things in it. Horribly tacky, to say the least, but subtly was the Bebop's middle name, after all.
In terms of relationships, specifically between Spike and Faye, it was a good thing that they didn't promise Ed that there would be no more fighting. That was an impossibility: a quiet ship, when the two of them were around. As was their way, the grown-up children fought about anything and everything. On more than one occasion, Jet had botched the pruning of his bonsais, but it was all in a days' work.
But at least Spike and Faye were talking again. And accepting each other again. No one on the ship insisted on being big talkers, and everyone was okay with that, but when one of them had something to say, they made a point to say it now. And what do you know? Communication works. Even if it leads to more fighting, which was really an inevitability; at least things would get out into the open and be worked on.
Something odd, though, was the room situation between Spike and Faye. In their relationship "pre-baby", as the eras where now deemed, the two had shared Spike's room without too much hesitation. But now, more often then not, the two would stay in Faye's room for a bit, with Spike eventually heading back to his own room to sleep. In an attempt to rebuild their relationship, which was never really built at all, they decided to take things slow, despite how difficult it was to keep their hands off of each other for the time being. But they occupied themselves with other tasks, such as seeing who could cheat at poker the best.
As for money, which the Bebop seemed to always be low on, the crew was back to hunting again. Though it seemed as if really rough patches were bound to plague the ship's occupants, they always bounced back from things unfathomably fast, and ended up stronger than before. With Faye still dealing with her injuries from the accident, though, she was sidelined for a while. No one dared let her talk her way into any type of mission this time around.
So she stayed at home with Ed, and helped with the bounties that way. They were rather successful when they did things like this, which lead the men to think that Faye was a jinx in the field, and that her best place was at home on the radio. But they kept that tidbit to themselves for a while; that was a fight they could do without.
And it wasn't as if they caught more bounties than usual (since they had always been, well…not the best at what they did), but things went smoother and less stuff got damaged, which saved money in the long run, which in turn, was really one of the biggest things that the crew needed to learn about the art of bounty hunting.
All in all, life on the Bebop was what it used to be: life on the Bebop. There was no real way to describe how these misfits worked together, but they just did, and nobody dared to question that. So they would all thank their lucky stars for what they had and not dwell on the things that still eluded them, and existence on their ship turned home would be just about everything that they could have hoped for.
"Come on, let's go!" Jet yelled as he held open the front door. "I'm hungry and I'm ready to go!"
After another successful hunt, Jet had totaled up their bills and was delighted to find that they actually had money left to spend on whatever they pleased. So tonight, they were going to have a big celebratory feast. There was a lot to celebrate, too, but they didn't exactly have a great track record with restaurants, so it was better to leave early, in case their first restaurant didn't work out. But Jet liked to look on the bright side, and maybe tonight, they'd even make it through dessert.
"He says he's not feeling good," Faye said as she limped into the room, cane begrudgingly in hand.
"So. I don't feel good a lot of the time," Jet chided.
"He says he's not going," she deadpanned.
Jet and Faye exchanged very nervous glances then, and had every right to do so. The last time they had decided to leave Spike at home by himself, they had all ended up in the same restaurant together, and Faye had almost died. And the time before that, Spike had almost died. Leaving him behind seemed to be harmful to a person's life, so Jet stormed towards Spike's room and decided he was going to make the man come with them.
"What in the hell do you mean 'you're not going'?" Jet asked of Spike as he burst his room.
"I feel like shit," was Spike's response.
"So? What's wrong with you?"
"Stomach's upset."
"Once again, so?"
"I might not be able to keep anything down. As I recall, you've dealt with the vomit situation before, and I don't think Faye would want to be doused in it again," he smirked weakly.
"I think you're fine," Jet told him.
"Take my temp, then. If I have a fever, then I think I should stay."
"Fine," Jet sighed.
Eyeing a thermometer on the nightstand and figuring Faye had put it there; Jet scooped it up, and shoved it in Spike's mouth. As they waited for the mercury to rise, Jet briefly wondered why he had such an ancient thermometer in the first place. Had he even bought that? It didn't matter, really, but it was still an odd relic to see. A couple of minutes later, Jet removed the stick and frowned at the read-out.
"One hundred degrees even. I guess that's sick," Jet drawled. "Fine, then, Mr. Ailing; we'll just stay here."
"No," Faye and Spike said in unison. They looked at each at their joint outburst, and then went on to explain their reasoning.
"I want to go out, Jet," Faye pleaded. "You guys have kept me cooped up in this tin can and I just gotta get out!"
"Yeah, Jet," Spike interrupted. "Don't cancel because of me. I'll be fine, I swear. Don't you guys trust me?"
Once again, Jet and Faye eyed one another. It wasn't that they didn't trust Spike; it was just that…he had a habit of being dangerous when left alone. Faye brought her pinky nail to her mouth and nibbled on it, a nervous habit she had picked up some time ago, so her shipmates had noticed.
"Do you really swear?" Jet prodded him
"Every damn day," Spike joked.
"God, what a lunkhead," Faye mumbled in kind.
Giving in and deciding to give him one more chance, the two skeptical adults reluctantly agreed to let him stay home. He had to keep his comm. on, though, and pick up every time they called, which would be every few minutes, the reassured him.
So leaving their recovering addict alone, all by himself, with no one but Ein to watch over him again, Jet, Faye, and Ed hesitantly left him be. It wasn't going to be an easy dinner for them, since the thought of what could happen would be lurking in the forefront of their minds all evening, but Spike had asked for them to trust him, and they were still willing to give that much to him.
As he heard the door close and the ship quiet down, Spike sat up in bed and was relieved to know that that old 'thermometer on the light bulb' trick still worked. Thank God that Jet didn't check the mercury level before hand, or question the origins of the old gauge, either.
Rolling out of bed, Spike dropped to his knees and reached underneath, fiddling for the stuff. Finding what he was looking for, he pulled it to himself and smiled at his stash. He had to hurry, though, if he was going to have this all said and done by the time the others got back. He wanted to not have to worry about them finding him midway through, and stop him from what he was doing.
Checking things over and making sure that everything was there, Spike looked up as Ein waddled into his room. The little dog wasn't excited by the prospect of being left alone with this particular man, and Spike's suspicious behavior didn't put his little data dog's mind at ease, either. Eliciting a few unsure whimpers, Ein looked on helplessly, wondering what he was up to, now.
Smiling at the dog, and reassuring him that everything was going to be okay, and that everything was going to work out for the best, Spike stood and gave a sigh of relief, mixed with anticipation. He grabbed up his stuff, then, and set to work. He only had a little bit of time to work with, and every second was precious.
so the big question is: what in the hell is spike doing? wasn't he just getting back into a healthier lifestyle? and now he's doing some weird, sketchy crap that ein's not okay with. well, i guess we'll just have to wait until next time to see what he's planning on doing. and yeah, this was kind of a transitional chapter, and just my lazy way of not having to write out these two months. i think we all appreciate that, right? well, until next time then, thanks a ton for stopping by!
phoenix
