A/N: Sorry for the late update! My college courses started up, and I went through a layoff, new job, and vacation all in the span between last update and now. Expect another chapter tomorrow, as this chapter is pretty short!
Bebop Blues
Chapter 15: American Money
They arrived at Callisto in better spirits than they had been. The ships were good and stocked, Rose's home-cooked meals at the dinner table had gotten progressively less awkward for the group, Mai and Faye had continued their "isn't but is" relationship, and Spike had gotten back into a groove and out of his rut.
Normalcy.
Faye and Spike still fought like hell.
Ed was still deranged, and she had brought Flora in on her antics.
Rose was having a hell of a time trying to get Flora to quit speaking in third-person. ("Flora likes speaking this way, Mama-lady!")
The "twenties" trio (Faye, Spike, an Mai) was taking bets on when Jet would finally get the nerve to ask Rose on an actual date.
Jet was still the boss.
"We won't be docking, and I think it's best we wait a day before we pursue this one," Jet concluded as they entered Callisto's orbit. "You guys remember the plan?"
Mai, Faye, and Spike were all sitting opposite Jet in the large bio-dome. Mai was cross-legged, smoking and sitting almost meditatively. Faye was leaning her back against Mai's shoulder as she stretched her legs forward and cheated at poker with Spike. Spike was on his 8th cigarette of the morning, and he was cross-legged and tense. A rock between Faye and him served as a poker table.
"Yes, Jet," Faye answered. Her annoyance at being Spike's arm candy for this mission was more than apparent.
"We chat up Elizabeth, coax her into changing venues for something more personal, walk her out, wham, bam, thank you ma'am," Spike dictated.
He wasn't looking forward to this either.
Normally, finesse in the form of disguise was not their method of capture.
But Elizabeth was tricky.
Her rap sheet was a mile-long, and she had a very particular method of choosing victims. Considering this was Callisto, there was no way of taking her down in a crowd. The bounty-heads were plenty in these parts, and no one liked a narc.
"Mai will be on standby on top of the bar, and Ed will keep surveillance via the invisible Blues' video camera."
"Full house," said Spike, and he laid down his hand, ignoring the end of Jet's recap.
"Four of a kind."
"Bullshit!"
Jet put a hand to his head. "Kids..." He left them to their antics and exited.
"Let me have a go," Mai interjected as she shifted to see the game.
"You want in?" asked Faye.
"Yeah."
Faye dealt. Three hands, three players.
Mai tossed in a cigarette. "There's my bet."
"So you play for keeps?" Spike asked. He was just glad to get Faye off his ass; maybe Faye would cheat them both. Or maybe she would cheat them neither.
"Always."
Faye threw in a cigarette.
So did Spike.
And the games began.
They played well past lunch, almost to dinner.
Faye hadn't cheated since Mai joined the game.
Spike was winning.
He had three packs of cigarettes (Mai's brand and one elusive nicotine pack that he won back from Faye three hands ago), 100 Woolongs, a bottle of whiskey, and a pin-up of last year's Miss Galaxy (from Mai).
Faye was down to 20 Woolongs, a six-pack, and three cigarettes.
Mai was down to nothing.
"You're out," Spike said.
"Not quite." She threw her jacket on the pile. "I play for keeps."
The look on Spike's face wrangled laughter out of Faye. She also threw her jacket down.
It then dawned on Spike that Faye wore herself differently. With a maroon v-neck tank and tight black pants, she still flaunted, but he was glad to see the yellow stripper set gone.
She looked deadlier this way.
And Mai's ensemble of leather pants and a red halter-top made her seem all the Syndicate woman she was without the snobbish appeal.
She seemed deadly, too.
So Spike's expression, a mixture of concern and intrigue, was masked only by his quick wit. "So do I."
He threw his jacket on top of the pile.
He had dropped his old attire, too. Grey button-up shirt, black slacks, and a heavy bomber jacket.
Classic, but not overdone.
"So what have you got?" he asked.
"Wait," Mai stopped him. "You didn't up the ante."
"Fine," he answered. He threw his shirt in for good measure.
Faye blushed very briefly, and Mai smirked. Faye made a mental note to yell at Mai about this later.
"Okay then, ladies. What have you got?"
Faye went first. "Full house."
"Your loss, Faye. Straight flush."
As Spike threw his arms around the pile, Mai placed her cards in front of her. "Ten, Jack, Queen, King, and," she paused to flip the last card over, "Ace. All hearts." She smirked at Spike. "I do believe a Royal Flush beats your straight."
He dropped his jaw a bit.
Faye was in hysterics.
Mai picked up the pile and proceeded to her room, a shirtless Spike and a giddy Faye in her wake.
"What the hell just happened?"
"Mai won."
"She'd been losing the whole game!"
"On purpose! You didn't see that?"
Spike thought that answer over. Come to think of it, she did over-bet on poor hands. He just thought she wasn't the greatest of players: a risky gal with money to burn. "She's some kind of devil, that woman," he groaned.
"The best kind there is, cowboy," Faye laughed.
He couldn't help but smile.
For once he lost fair and square.
