Session Fourteen

A couple of weeks later, Leon stood in the bridge one evening, facing his reflection in the windows. He was pleased to see himself without the sling. Jet had finally given him the ok to remove it and start using his right arm again. The Bebop was quiet. Jet was making dinner and Faye was holed up in her room. Ed was somewhere in the bowels of the ship. Leon took a deep breath and brushed a stray curl of hair from his eyes. He'd snitched Jet's Walther from where he'd left it in the living room after cleaning it earlier. He had the gun holstered under his left arm, where he usually carried his own pistol. He fingered the grip of the Walther. It felt awkward in his palm, but it would do the trick.

Facing his reflection, he took up a ready stance, hands up in a defensive position. And then he closed his eyes, and summoned his first fight with Draugh to memory. He moved back, as if dodging a punch, then threw one of his own at his invisible opponent. Leon never had anyone to teach him to fight, but he'd taught himself by reliving his real-life fights over and over in his head, making his body go through the motions until they were second nature. Until using them on the real thing was as fluid and easy as his shadow fights. Until he could finally hold his own against the older boys at the orphanage and the thugs in the Alba City back alleys. He shifted his feet again and threw his hands up to block an incoming hit. In his mind's eye, he took the upper hand, forcing Draugh back to the edge of the pier. Leon's breathing came faster and he opened his eyes, adding the landscape of the bridge into his fight. The shogi table became cover from his opponent, the navigator's chair an obstacle placed in his way.

Leon continued his shadow fight, letting some of the anger he felt at Draugh dissipate into thin air as he pummeled his imaginary opponent into something unrecognizable. Why did the Dragon care so much about their wounded sense of pride? Who wanted to give their life so thoroughly to a Syndicate that they had to take the life of another just to satisfy their honor? Leon ducked and rolled away from an imaginary kick. He sprang to his feet, his shoulder catching only slightly from the pressure of his somersault. His punches and movements came faster now. Sweat dripped from his hair as he punctuated the punches with grunts.

Leon spun on one heel, preparing to deliver his finishing blow. He dropped to one knee and slid to avoid an overhead blow, then jumped to his feet and grabbed the Walther in the same motion. He came up in a draw pointing straight at Faye.

She froze at the top of the stairs. Her eyes went wide.

"Faye!" Leon exclaimed. For three long heartbeats, the only sound in the bridge was Leon's steady breathing. Guilt colored his pride when his arm didn't waver.

She opened her mouth like she was going to speak, but no words came out. The spell was broken. Leon pulled his arm up so the Walther pointed at the ceiling.

"It's not loaded," Leon assured her.

"That's good," she said. Her voice was steady.

"Sorry about that." Leon holstered Jet's gun.

"What are you doing up here?" Faye asked carefully.

"Training," Leon answered.

"Oh," Faye nodded.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for you."

"Really?" Leon's surprise was genuine. Ever since Faye's outburst on the bridge, the two of them had been avoiding each other. Leon wasn't actively trying to shun Faye, but everytime he tried to start a conversation with her, she shut him down. Or diverted the conversation to someone else. The fact that she'd seek him out now made him suspicious. "I thought we weren't talking."

"We're not," Faye said, but her tone was lighter than usual. "But I want to show you something."

"What is it?" Leon asked.

"Come with me." Faye motioned with her hand.

"Ok." Leon gave her a sideways look, but he followed. He dropped off Jet's Walther as they passed through the living room, then followed Faye down the hallway where the crew's rooms were. They passed by Jet in the kitchen and Ed's open room, which looked like an explosion and a hurricane had a child. Past Faye's room, which she kept carefully closed up, and Jet's neatly organized bunk. Faye stopped in front of the last door in the hall. Spike's room. Leon stopped behind her, curious but cautious. The last time this room came up in conversation, Faye wasn't happy about it. Why would she bring him here?

Faye pulled a key from her pocket and slid it into the old-fashioned doorknob. With a slight click, the doorknob turned and Faye opened the door. She stepped inside and motioned Leon in after her. He followed. He stepped across the threshold and paused. The room was functional and neat with a bed and a dresser and a small closet space. The bed was made, the dresser bare. Spike's old clothes hung in the closet. Different types of weapons and ammunition sat in crates in the room-grenades, guns, and various explosive compounds. A few tactical readouts were tacked to the walls. Leon raised his eyebrows. He had expected...well, more. This room was nearly bare of any personal effects and there wasn't much to show what kind of person his father had been.

"So, this is it?" he asked.

Faye cut him a glance out of the corner of her eye. "Yeah. This is Spike's room. He wasn't much for stuff."

"I can tell. It looks like an arsenal in here."

"He always did like making a bang."

"So, uh, I thought you wanted to keep me out of here."

Faye turned away. "I did."

"Change your mind?"

"Obviously."

Leon ran a hand over the dresser top. No dust. "You cleaned it up, didn't you?"

He watched Faye nod in the reflection of the small mirror mounted over the dresser.

"You can keep whatever you took out of it," Leon said.

He saw Faye jump and look up with a guilty expression. She wiped it away quickly. He turned to face her again.

She was quiet for a long time. "Thank you."

Leon shrugged. "You knew him better than me. I'm not going to hold it against you if you want a few mementos."

"You don't resent me for it?"

"Why would I?"

"I knew your father better than you ever will," Faye said. "Doesn't that bother you? That any past with him is lost? That who you thought you were isn't who you really are?"

Leon looked around the room. He sighed. "Not really." He sat down on the bed and leaned back on his hands to look up at her. He instinctively favored his right shoulder, putting less weight on it than the left. "Can't bother me much when who I thought I was isn't nearly as interesting as who I found out I am," he gave her a lopsided grin.

"Who'd you think you were?" Faye asked quietly.

Leon shrugged. "Nobody. I used to invent parents for myself as a kid. Cowboys or cops or soldiers or something exciting. But I never had any real information about my parents. The only real thing I knew was that they gave me up. So I invented reasons why they had to let me go. None of it compared to the truth though."

"But don't you wish you could meet Spike and Julia?" Faye said her name without skipping a beat.

"Maybe I wasn't meant to meet them. Maybe who I am isn't a reflection of who they were, but who they could've been."

Faye looked like she was on the verge of tears. "How can you just accept it like that?"

"What good would it do to fight it? I can't change it. Would I like to? Yeah, I would. I'd like to know my parents. But you know, I feel like, in some way, I do. I know my mother loved me enough to protect me. And I know that my father loved her enough to try and change the world for her. I think that's pretty good, don't you?"

Faye slowly sank down onto the bed with Leon. "When you put it that way," she said, "it kind of is."

"I know I remind you of things you'd rather not remember. And I know you're scared I'll walk away and die and you won't be able to stop me. But I promise you Faye, I'm not going to fight the Dragon to the death. I've found a family here on the Bebop. I want that more than anything in the galaxy. But I don't want you guys to be in danger just because I'm on the ship. I need to free myself from the Dragon. You of all people should understand that."

"The worst part is, I do understand." Faye pulled a cigarette out of her shirt and lit it with a lighter she produced from the same place. She offered the light to Leon and he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. She stowed the lighter back in her shirt. "Which is why I hate it. Because I know I'd probably do the same thing in your shoes."

"Wanna put my shoes on then?"

Faye glared at him.

Leon hid behind a cloud of smoke. "Sorry."

"Since I can't talk you out of this, I guess I'm going to prepare you for it." She reached into her red jacket and pulled out a gun. She handed it to Leon without looking at him.

He took it and was surprised at how easily it fit his hand. It was a modified Jericho, with a sight mounted on one side. He aimed it at his reflection in the mirror and mimed a shot, letting his hand bounce back with imaginary recoil.

"It was the only thing we recovered that night," Faye said quietly.

Leon looked over at her in surprise, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. "You want me to have it? You're serious?"

She nodded. "Yeah. I kept what I wanted." She smiled. "Besides, I figure your hand's gonna fit that better than mine," she gestured at the Jericho. "You lost your pistol at the temple. I'm not letting you fight the Dragon unarmed."

Leon lay the gun on the bed beside him and gave Faye a hug. She stiffened, but then relaxed and let him wrap his arms around her. "Thanks, Faye." He sat back. "I mean it."

"Yeah. Now stay alive long enough to use it," she said.

"Hey!" a shout from down the hall interrupted them. "Dinner's ready! Come and get it!" Jet yelled.

Faye stood up and walked to the door.

"Hey, Faye?"

She paused, cigarette in hand, turning her face just enough for Leon to see her profile.

"I won't let you down. I promise," he said.

She was gone before his words died, leaving a cloud of smoke and a key dangling in the doorknob.

I don't recall if they actually use keys in Cowboy Bebop...but seeing as how the Bebop and Spike are both a little old-fashioned, I felt it was kind of fitting he'd lock his room with a key. And again, in a world of hackers and technology, I feel like Spike might trust a good old-fashioned lock and key-especially with Ed on board (although I imagine she can pick locks pretty well too)

Hope you all enjoyed!