Renewal

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After making his phone call, Spike found the meeting point, and the location neither surprised nor amused him. As he stood on the steps of the Old Saint Mary's Church, he looked up at the rose window, glinting with its bright colors in the afternoon sun. He had never been here before. Hundreds of students milled around him, on their way to classes, their dorms, their local bar for early happy hour.

Spike had never gone to college. At the time that most kids think about furthering their education, Spike had been attending the School of Hard Knocks, majoring in "Getting the Shit Kicked Out Of You". He looked out of place. He felt out of place. He hadn't stepped foot on this campus since a bonfire last winter, when he and Ed had burned straw witches, and his contained a slip of paper on which he had written a single phrase that he wasn't even sure he understood: wake me up inside.

"Hey, Spike. Do you want cream or sugar?"

"Black is good." Fred handed Spike his coffee, and sat down on the steps in the sun. Spike sat as well, asking, "Aren't we supposed to go into little booths with a screen in between us?"

Fred laughed. "I didn't realize this was going to be a formal confession. I thought you just needed to talk." Fred sipped his coffee. "So what's going on?"

"Christ, I don't even know where to start. I didn't have anyone else to talk to."

"I thought you had your crewmates."

"Faye is gone, left for Venus, and is currently half-way through a pregnancy that she didn't see fit to let anyone know about. Jet, who I suspect fathered that child but doesn't know it, has been a bear to live with since Faye left. At the moment, I appear to have an exclusive relationship with a nineteen-year-old girl, whom I have no business looking at, much less talking to, named Edward. And Ed not only knew about Faye, but she went so far as to question whether I was the father."

Fred was quiet for a moment. "So do you guys have writers for all this stuff, or what? Because I find it really hard to believe that you all created this much drama on your own."

"Christ, Fred, you don't know the half of it. I wonder if I should have become a priest after all and lived a life of quiet contentment."

"Spike, I'm the only priest for a parish located on a campus of sixty-five thousand students. You think I have a quiet life? I have to drink a gallon of coffee a day just to cope. These kids are nuts. Wonderful and inspiring, but also nuts."

Spike laughed. "So you think I'm just an idiot?"

"The fact that you're an idiot is very well established, I think. Ed has no idea where she stands with you, and it should have been no surprise that she might have thought you could be the father. Anyway, it was Faye's business, and only Faye's, whether she told you, or anyone else, that she was pregnant. And you're only assuming that Jet is the father."

"Am I right, though?"

"I'm neither going to confirm nor deny that."

"So what should I do, Father?"

Fred took a swig of his coffee. "Get over yourself. Accept Ed's apology, even though she doesn't owe you one. Send Jet to find Faye. Make an honest woman out of Ed."

"I haven't done anything to Ed to necessitate making her honest."

"Perhaps, Spike, that's your biggest problem."

Back on the Bebop, Jet gazed at his bonsai. They were getting brambly, out of control. He pulled the closest one towards him, and began a laborious process of reinterpreting one small branch. The best way was to start small, to modify only a bit at first, to train the errant twigs into a more proper direction.

But it was all about positive reinforcement, really. Working too roughly would only damage the delicate branches, and irrevocably send them in a wrong direction. The trick was patience. Kindness. And consistency.

Jet had, in fact, been very troubled by his recent behavior. He had regrets, not only about the things he had done, but also things he hadn't done.

And as Jet gently worked a tiny branch into a more pleasing direction, he felt pretty sure that his greater regret was the things he hadn't done.

However, as he watched the branch transform under his ministrations, Jet was also fairly positive that, with time and patience and care, he would be able to correct that.

On Venus, Faye was going through a box of hand-me-downs from Susie, Devine's daughter. Susie had had a child the previous year, at about the same time that Faye's baby was due. Every item seemed so impossibly small to Faye. Then she laughed, thinking that that was probably the most unoriginal thought anyone ever had while looking at baby clothes.

It was so quiet in her suite. Music was softly playing. It seemed that the rich fabrics and carpeting in the room muffled every bit of sound that Faye created, which was never much to begin with. The Bebop had metal floors and walls and three other people, and the only time it was silent was the wee hours when no one had yet begun a hangover, or the rare occasions when Ed had nothing to say. Ed had even slept loudly when she was younger and still crashing in the corridors.

Faye chuckled with the memory. She took another sip of orange juice - it seemed she always had a constant supply now – and got to her feet. Here, she had a lovely spacious room that was all hers, an unlimited supply of hot water, and the freedom to move about as she pleased. By contrast, the Bebop was crowded and cramped, with limited facilities, too many people, and the lingering stench of an old sweat sock. Yes, here, everything was better. Everything was taken care of.

Everything, except the loneliness.

Ed was currently on the deck of the Bebop, pacing. Spike had been gone for several hours, and it was starting to get dark. She had been spending the time replaying their conversation in her head, and imagining every worst-case scenario she could conjure.

Could you be more stupid, Ed? This is even worse than when you turned eighteen and you told Spike flat-out, flat-out, that you loved him. Ed fumed at herself for a few minutes, and then that little voice, the little Faye-faye voice, she called it, conjured itself back up from the recesses of her mind:

You are not stupid, Ed. Faye was the one who should have let Papa know. And Spike. That was her deal to say, not yours. But she chose not to, and you don't own any of the mess that Faye created. And if Spike can't deal with that, then to hell with him. Who does he think he is, anyway?

Ed snorted.

Furthermore, he's been stringing you along for the past damned year, a year, and he hasn't touched you, kissed you, nothing, since Winfield tried to kill you. What is up with that?

What was up with that, indeed? Ed crossed her arms, and decided that Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky the 4th owed Joseph Decland "Spike" Spiegel no explanations.

But he sure as hell owes me some.

Meanwhile, Jet had come outside, looking for her.

"Ed? Where's Spike?"

"I don't know, Papa."

"Are you waiting for him out here?" Ed didn't answer, and Jet came up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Did something happen?"

"It's just . . . He . . . Papa, I hate this."

"You know what? Me, too."

At that moment, Spike walked on to the deck, hands in pockets, slouched over as usual. All he needs is a cigarette, thought Ed. Jet dropped his hand from Ed's shoulder, and said, "I think I'll start dinner now."

As Jet passed by Spike, Spike drawled, "Will it be edible this time?"

"What makes you think there'll be any for you, Spiegel?"

"Hope springs eternal, Jet." Jet continued into the ship. Spike stood still, looking at Ed. Ed was silent, stewing. Then Spike began walking towards her, and stopped about a foot away, his eyes locked on hers.

Finally, Ed could no longer stand it, and she said, "Spike . . ."

"Shhh." Spike reached out with a finger, and laid it on her lips. He then moved his hand so that it was cupping her jaw, his calloused thumb stroking her cheek. Ed remained silent and still as Spike raised his other hand and cupped her face on the other side. He then reached up into her hairline, stroking Ed's brow, and ran his fingers through her cropped hair.

Ed frowned, and said, "Spike, what are you . . ."

"I said shhh."

Ed raised an eyebrow and replied, "Don't you tell me to shhh, Joseph Decland Spiegel, I have something to say to you . . ."

Spike cut her off by landing a kiss on Ed's very impertinent mouth.

Just then, Jet stomped back on to the deck, saying, "Okay, you two . . ." And he stopped at the sight of his almost-daughter in the arms of his long-time partner. Ed and Spike broke off the kiss and turned in Jet's direction, eyes wide.

After a moment, Jet harrumphed and said, "Batten down the hatches. We're going to Venus." And with that, Jet stomped back inside.

Spike chuckled, and turned back to Ed. "That's the smartest thing I've heard in a long time."

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This is a work of fiction, and the CB characters are copywrited by someone other than me. Please leave a review!