Chapter 2

Jet makes some noodles for dinner. They're seasoned with bagged spice. There's enough for the two of us because it's only the two of us. We each get a whole bowl in which we eat in silence. After, he sits in front of the sitting room computer and goes through the latest bounties.

I approach slowly and stand behind him looking over his shoulder at the screen.

"It's all small fries," he says.

"Small or not we need something to bring fuel for the ship and ourselves."

"Hm," he agrees.

"This one looks fun," I say, one hand on his shoulder and the other to point at the screen.

Hamlet Arington, he is a hired hit man who took it upon himself to kill the clients and the hits.

…..And then whomever he wanted to.

"Says his usual hangout is a bar not too far away from here and is a regular patron," I add, "I wonder why he still walks free since this bounty is one month old."

"He has a lot of clients," Jet says, "who knows how many frequent that one bar?"

"I'm thinking I want a drink or four. You care to join me?"

He nods.

I'm going as I am so I sit in front of the computer and chain smoke the last of my cigarettes. I scan bounties. It looks like a one person, or even a two person job, but it never hurts to have backup. It can change the odds, and even make it fun.

I put out the last cigarette in the ash tray. Four cigarettes dirty the tray that was previously clean.

He dresses normal, only he wears a heavy jacket and hat to accommodate the weather.

I should do the same thing, but with a body like this, why hide it?

Well, I used to like the attention more than I should. It may have gotten me into more situations that I cared to get into. I don't want that attention anymore. I don't want anything anymore because it'll just disappear like everything else in my life.

We walk to the bar. It isn't very far. He wants to walk and smoke; so much for displaying clean ash trays.

I bum one off of him and that's the only conversation we have. The metal of his arm and the cold of the night do not compare to the cold and distance of him and his silence. I feel the same way as he does, but, even if it's just a little, I try to make conversation.

It just goes completely out the window.

I flick the cigarette into the gutter and pull up my hood and stuff my hands in my pockets.

The bar is a sloppy joint with sloppy people. All men; they are nothing to look at, and not worth any time at all. Just by the looks of these men, I know they don't have any money.

We take a seat at the bar and order drinks. I don't waste any time and drink half of it already. I didn't even throw up a cheer for him.

Eyes diligent, the bar shows no sign of the man we are after. None of these other ones hold a familiarity to the pictures that were on the screen.

Jet finishes his drink and calls the bartender over. He shows the picture and the bartender shakes his head. "He was taken out this morning, sorry."

Jet just grunts and the bartender refills his drink. "This one is on the house." He walks away to service a man who has glasses bigger than my wrists.

Two men leer at me. They are cops, but the very sloppy kind who straddle both sides of the fence. I'm not sure they know who I am, but they are staring way too hard.

I nudge Jet with my knee. He looks at me.

"I have a fan club," I say, "I should be drunk by now."

"Cops don't offer. Be careful, their eyes aren't just watching your curves either."

"They're still doing that."

He doesn't say anything to that, but I know he agrees. He said I looked nice today; must've been looking at my curves because he's never said that to me before.

We drink in silence. A game plays on the television, but nobody pays attention to that. A passed out man at the bar is the attention of mine. I don't know if he's alive.

0000

By closing, I am glad that I am drunk. But this time, no one's attention on me matters. I can't even distinguish their faces anymore. I pay whatever I have in my pocket and leave with Jet. It's colder now. He is drunk, too. At least he isn't cold. Too bad I don't want any. I know I could if I wanted to. Too bad I don't have any feelings at all anymore. Normally, at this stage I'd only begin to start my night, now I just want to go to bed.

Maybe the night isn't over yet. The two "cops" step out of nowhere and right into our path. They are drunk too, but they have their badges out. Both their badges too.

Jet and I look at each other with dead eyes. These guys can't be serious. We sat there and drank, end of story. If this is how it's going to be….

"I don't put out past three," I smirk dopily. I just hope I'm not swaying as much as I think I am.

"Word around town is that a couple with very heavy pockets and guns would be making a stop in this very town. We have just what we want to protect the people and make sure they are safe," the taller of the two says and they both pull out guns. Shit! Just when you think your night can't get any worse.

I look to Jet with the same look he is mirroring back. My face narrows into disgust when I look back at them. "Do I look like I have a gun and heavy pockets?"

"You never know what a woman hides in her vagina!?" the dark, short man snaps and I don't have to do anything because Jet shoots both of them. I take his communication device and scan the bounties again and these two are fresh and only worth a little bit of money. They smuggle guns where they aren't supposed to be.

Whoop dee doo.

We give each other the same look.

By the time the money is ours we go back to the ship, it's still quiet and dark. He goes to sleep right away. I hear his snores drift through the ship. My feet carry me through to where I shot the ceiling a few times. It doesn't matter anyways, he still left. Why didn't I just shoot him? At least I'd know. He would not have walked away, I'd've done it first.

If by chance I find him again, or he ever came back I'd shoot him.

I roam about making sure everything is alright. It is. My ship and his ship are the only ones that sit in the pit. Both are in great shape, and both are clean. Whenever I get out of this funk I will roam the skies again.

I will always come back.

A soft beeping comes from within the ship. It's a musical kind of beeping that I've never heard before. I follow it back to the sitting quarter where a sleepy Jet looks at the screen.

"What is that annoying sound?"

"We have a transmission," he says and we both snap to attention.