Bebop Blues
Chapter 3: Flying Teapot
In the entire conscious time in Mai's house, Spike had not seen outside the walls once.
Walking the streets of Tharsis in a coat and hat (he had to lay low, after all), he breathed the urban air.
It burned his lungs.
But he felt so alive.
It was odd, actually. He thought he'd feel hollow after being dead a year.
But something Mai had said stuck with him.
"Sometimes you're ready to open that door, but the timing's not quite right."
He repeated it. It became his new mantra: his armor for his new life.
She knew something about the dream he didn't, and he'd be lying if he said she didn't fascinate him.
He was starting to wonder if Julia was just a dream.
His time with her seemed so surreal. Choreographed. Staged. As though she made him feel alive, but not truly living.
He had held that torch for so long, and now that flame was rained out, cold, ash.
He inhaled the cigarette Mai had left, the heady feeling refreshing from the normal rush of nicotine.
He could see why she preferred them.
And they didn't burn his lungs like the urban air did.
She'd been gone a few weeks, maybe a month. He wasn't keeping track. He didn't know if they'd ever cross paths again, but he'd like to think they would.
He loved a woman who could kick his ass.
And no doubt a daughter of the Syndicate was well equipped to do so.
Judging by her belongings, she was one hell of a hunter.
He found a safe in her closet underneath the floorboard.
Three Billion Woolong.
He left it there, taking 200 as a tip: a start-up for his new life.
He was sure she wouldn't have minded; she left him a home, after all. A home, because it was full of food, ammunition, blankets, hot running water, marijuana cigarettes, liquor, and all the other luxuries a house wouldn't have afforded.
He didn't feel obligated to keep up with it, but he did feel obligated to keep it.
He hadn't owned anything in his life, other than his gun, his ship, and his pride. Hell, he hadn't even owned his life. It had always been owned by the syndicate or Vicious or Julia or the crew.
The crew.
He wondered if he should call Jet. He slinked into a nearby bar, a gold pyramid its sign, mulling the thought over as he took a seat.
The bar was pretty empty. Spooked, it seemed. He thought nothing of it and ordered some whiskey.
The bartender eyed him curiously. When he served the drink, he leaned over to whisper to him. "You best watch your back, son. Miss Dragon left a message for you."
Spike blinked at the man before opening his mouth to respond, but his finger brushed over the note beneath his glass. He opened the paper to view the contents, curiosity overtaking him.
Open tab on me. Lou will keep an eye out for stray syndicate killers. I figured you wouldn't stay cooped up without me there.
-M
Miss Dragon
He smirked. The woman thought of everything. "Lou."
The bartender turned to face him.
"You seen her around?"
Lou smiled and leaned over the counter again. "She left town a few weeks ago with a pretty thing on her arm. She always did like the ones with attitude."
Spike gave him a confused look, but Lou slipped him another drink. Another note.
'So, Cowboy, you're gonna' carry that weight. There's no turning back.'
He paused to smile. 'No turning back then; she's something else.'
Whenever you're asked, there's something about blue. Always something. I've got eyes and ears all about town, but by now you know I've up and flown the coop. Us songbirds do that. We don't stay rooted to the ground, just to our hearts. I didn't know if you'd be interested in keeping tabs on me, but I took the liberty of saving your vidcom number. I can't make this easy. I'm being tracked. You may know him. He left me that nasty gash, and I know he's still out for me. He should be, though. But he's actually got us mixed up.
Spike froze. So she was mixed up in his mess, then. She was being hunted for Vicious' death.
Don't go beating yourself up, swimming bird. You've got a second chance or fourth or ninth. Who's counting?
-M
Cryptic. Did the woman ever speak literally?
"She said you could meet her in Venus for tea."
"She say anything about a magic carpet?" Spike grinned.
"She said you'd ask. Your ship is at the dock."
A chase.
He always loved a chase.
