Here's Chapter 3! The plot is finally gonna come into play here, so enjoy! I still don't own Bebop, and there's some language, so, just a warning.
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Spike coughs, waving away smoke. "What the hell was that?"
"Transportation. Welcome to the Bebop. Or rather, welcome back."
The smoke clears and Spike finds himself standing on the bridge on something that looks suspiciously like Jet's Bebop, looking at another person; a young girl is sitting on the sofa, (which had been re-upholstered light blue) reading the contents of an envelope. She looks up.
"Well?" she says. "Come over here. I've gotta get you into a body and settled into the Bebop while Lefer takes care of our account."
"A body?" Spike asks, a little overwhelmed.
"Yes…a body. Most people aren't transparent through their centers." She points at his stomach and he reflexively looks down.
"What the hell?!"
She sighs. "Alright, enough profanity. Get your clear butt over here."
Spike cautiously walks/drifts over to her and seats himself in a light blue armchair. She watches him get settled, then reaches down into her messenger bag and pulls out what appears to be a plastic crescent moon in shades of blue and gray, with a gem-like object set in the center, where the two tips meet. Feeling around the edge of it, she fishes out a wire with what appears to be a guitar chip on the end of it. Disconnecting it, she palms the chip and retracts the wire. After she placed the moon on the table, she taps the gem twice with the chip. With a slight hum, the device activates, the jewel projecting a field of stars. Another tap, and the stars disappear, to be replaced with a simple beige background, like that of a manila folder, with a blank photo and unanswered questions. She glances to the side, at Spike.
"Well?" she asks.
"What?"
She gestured at the screen. "This'll be your new life. Your history, date of birth, blood type…everything."
Spike shrugs. "So?"
She sighs in an exasperated manner. "You can at least choose what you'll look like."
He shrugs again. "I don't really care…"
"Figures," she mutters, then taps the gem, moving around a cursor with the guitar pick. When she's finished, she taps the jewel again. The moon hummed, then spit out a small computer chip. With a final tap, she re-plugged the guitar chip back in, sitting back.
"Well," she says. "That should do it. Now all we hafta do is wait for Lefer."
Spike stares at her. "That's it? But I'm still see through!"
She rolls her eyes. "I can't make bodies and stick errant souls in them. I make the blueprints, Lefer will follow them, and you'll be alive to the world again."
"Seriously?"
"Yup. And don't worry, we've got plenty of firepower, so you won't be lacking in that department." She gets up and walks to the fridge, opening it and taking out a drink. Spike shifts around, bored. She glances over at him as she drinks.
"Don't worry. He's almost home."
There was a muffled roar, like that of an engine, and a thump. After a few minutes of silence, the door opens and a figure walks in. Spike reels back.
"It's…it's you!"
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Spike stretched, loosening muscles that he hadn't had in twenty years. A few strands of forest-green hair fell into his cerulean eyes; he swept them aside irritably, but they fell back. Giving up, he sat down next to Lefer. He hadn't realized that Junefrost's Lefer was his angelic intruder until he'd walked through the door.
That door was the last memory he'd had for a while. Afterwards, there was a blur of odd colors, a feeling of flying and euphoria, then a fixation, a center to the chaos.
And then he'd woken up, sprawled on the sofa, staring at the ceiling fan. He'd noticed that there were glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the blades. There was soft blues music playing in the background. He'd sat up slowly, unused to the feeling of a body. Both Lefer and Junefrost had looked up from their instruments, an ebony saxophone for her and a silver trumpet for him.
She'd smiled at him and Lefer had saluted, then gestured at himself and his companion.
"Lefer. Junefrost."
She'd sketched a salute at him.
"Welcome back."