Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction / Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Gotta Knock a Little Harder ❯ Ironic ( Chapter 15 )

Ironic

 

It's like rain on your wedding day; It's a free ride when you've already paid; It's the good advice that you just didn't take; Who would've thought ... it figures - Alanis Morrisette (Jagged Little Pill)

 

Jet sat in the lounge, watching the data for the stones roll up the screen. The analysis wasn't near complete. Right now he was examining a charged stone. He also wanted to simulate the properties as it lost its charge, and compare it to the stones McKenna had vomited earlier.

 

This process had started the day before, and the indicator running along the bottom of the screen wasn't even to the halfway point. But already the data wasn't looking good.

 

He sighed and rubbed his head. We're going to have to find another alternative, he thought. Those things are going to kill her. And there won't be any `adjusting' to the consequences of that. Not after what happened.

 

After Spike came back, Jet had helped him back to bed. He'd sleep now… genuine sleep; although he knew his partner would continue to have nightmares. Hell, I'm gunna have nightmares, Jet thought.

 

But he sat with Spike for awhile, before he finally fell asleep. He had to admit that he was afraid his friend was still teetering on the brink of insanity. Especially when he started laughing.

 

“It's no goddamn wonder no one freaked out at us, Jet,” he said. “With the crazy shit they have running loose on this planet, we're nothing.

 

“It's a big cosmic joke. You were worried about `contaminating' this society; that our technology was so far advanced from theirs, we would seem like Gods to them? And they're the ones who seem like Gods. They don't have our technology, because they don't need it.”

 

Spike had stared up at the ceiling for a bit. Silent. Haunted. Jet just sat with him. He had no words.

 

“Ever have a feeling that you've never had before,” Spike finally said. “One you couldn't even find a name for?”

 

His eyes rolled toward Jet, but his head remained still. The pupils were dilated. Spike was still afraid. “This… feeling,” he said. “It was far beyond fear. I've been afraid before, Jet. I never felt anything like this.”

 

If we get stuck here, Jet thought. Spike will snap. And there won't be any bringing him back, next time. He growled low, and thought, Hell, I'll probably be right behind him.

 

“Did I come in at a bad time?” McKenna asked from behind him. He turned and his brows shot up. She was fresh out of the shower, her hair was wrapped in a towel, but she was wearing one of his old t-shirts, and little else. On him it was a bit snug. On her, it looked like a short dress, with the V-neck scandalously low.

 

She looked down and blushed. “I hope you don't mind. I grabbed it out of the dryer.” She lifted the bottom of the shirt up, and flashed a hint of the rest of her attire, which wasn't much. “I even found some women's underwear. Imagine that.”

 

“Heh. Musta been Faye's.”

 

McKenna parked herself casually on the couch; crossing her legs, and leaning forward as she started toweling her hair. Jet got a lovely view of milky thighs and noticed that the burn scars only went as far as just below her knees. In the light of the lounge, they didn't look as bad as he had first thought. As she bent further over, the neck of the shirt fell away, and afforded him an even lovelier view.

 

“So, how's the analysis going?” she asked.

 

Jet felt himself grow warm. “Huh?”

 

She pointed at the equipment on the table. “The stones?”

 

He tugged at the collar of his shirt and made it a point to look hard at the monitor. “It'll be about 30 hours before the analysis is complete. But what I'm getting so far isn't pretty.” He looked back at her. “There are chemical compounds in these rocks that I've never seen before. But from what I can tell, they're poisonous.”

 

He sighed, rubbed his head, and looked down at the deck. “I'm sorry, McKenna, but I can't let you risk taking those things.” He looked back up at her. “We need to find another way.”

 

Her face was a mask. He couldn't read anything.

 

“There is no other way.”

 

“There has to be. Those things are going to kill you. Don't you understand that?”

 

She closed her eyes, and fell back against the couch. “Jeeze, Jet. I took them before, and lived.”

 

“Barely.”

 

“It's not like we have a whole lot of choices here.” She looked at him, a determined set to her face. “Look, if I don't take them, we'll die here. If I do take them, we may still die here, or we may make it home and die there. At least there's a chance.”

 

He stared at her a long moment, the words she'd said running circles in his head. “One way or another, you're going to chose death, aren't you?”

 

She groaned in frustration, and buried her face in her hands. “I wish I could make you understand.” She looked up again, wet hair hanging in her face.

 

She suddenly looked terribly vulnerable to him. Her emerald eyes had that ancient, tired look to them again, but there was a sense of pleading just under the surface.

 

“I would have no life there. Someone would always be hunting for me.” She stood, and walked away from him, her arms wrapped across her breasts. “It's no fun any more. I'm jaded. I have no sense of wonder, no curiosity.”

 

Jet heard her choke, and her voice was thick as she softy said, “Besides, I'm a coward, Jet. I can't watch anyone I care about grow old and die, while I stay the same.”

 

“So you've just decided it's time to die, is that it?”

 

“Yes,” she whispered.

 

Jet wasn't quite sure when the subject changed from getting back home, to her death, in particular; but he felt a surge of righteous anger that propelled him across the lounge. He spun her around, and grabbed the front of her shirt with his cybernetic hand and lifted her up onto her toes. He brought himself nose to nose with her, and said, “You're right, McKenna, you are a coward. Not because you don't want your heart broken, but because you're willing to just give up. You're ready to lie down, and die, and you don't give a fuck whose heart you might break.”

 

She blinked, and her brows went up.

 

Jet wondered where the hell he pulled that from.

 

He let go of her shirt, and stalked off. “I'm going to try and get some rest,” he said as he left. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

 

[1.1.1.1]

 

McKenna watched him disappear into another part of the ship. Stunned, bemused, and not certain she heard him right. She went to the chair in front of the analysis equipment, and sat down. She stared at the screen and the data rolling up it, but didn't really see it. She slowly started counting. “One… two… three…”

 

She noticed Jet had left a pair of nail clippers on the table, and thought, My toenails are looking a bit long.

 

She borrowed them, and continued counting slowly.

 

[2.2.2.2]

 

Jet lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. His arms were tucked up under the pillow, and he was on top of the covers. But he was far from sleep. Instead, he was trying hard not to think. Which only served to make him think more.

 

In frustration he sat up, his bare feet hitting the deck with a slap that sounded horribly loud to his own ears. He tapped a foot on the deck, and his fingers on the bed.

 

It felt rather warm in his room. He roughly pulled his shirt off, and tossed it to the floor. He stared at the wadded up fabric for a few moments, then snatched it up, and put the shirt back on.

 

He got off the bed, and aimed himself toward the door, but as soon as he reached it, he stopped. He slowly rested his flesh palm flat on the cool metal of the door, then closed his eyes, and laid his forehead against it, as well.

 

[3.3.3.3]

 

With her toenail hygiene out of the way, McKenna stared aimlessly around the lounge, and she kept counting. Her eyes landed on the table, and a small dish with a few stones in it, within easy reach. She reached over, and picked one of the stones up, and held it up to the light. Smooth and oval shaped. It glowed with an inner light. She held it against her finger and wondered what kind of ring it might make. She thought it would be pretty, a conversation piece, but nothing spectacular.

 

Slowly, she brought the stone up to her lips and closed her eyes. She rubbed the stone against her lips, and noticed how smooth it was. She also noticed that it was warm. Almost like it was alive. She lowered her hand with the stone in it, and bounced it around on her open palm a couple of times. Then she placed it back in the dish, and finished counting. She'd reached 200. That was far enough.

 

She got to her feet, and headed for Jet's room.

 

[4.4.4.4]

 

Jet had lost track of how long he'd stayed like that, with his head leaning against the door. But it was long enough, he decided. He sighed and headed for his bed. He felt… foolish.

 

He stopped dead when he thought he heard a light tapping on the door. So soft he wasn't certain he hadn't imagined it. He strained his ears, and listened, but the sound didn't repeat.

 

He decided he had imagined it, and was going to crawl into bed, but his feet had other ideas. He turned and opened the door.

 

McKenna jumped back, her hand up and ready to knock again.

 

She blushed furiously, and stammered. “I… um… need something.” And she instantly winced at her own words.

 

Jet almost laughed. Instead, he smiled, and felt the butterflies in his stomach settle down a little bit.

 

They just looked at each other in silence. Then Jet realized he was blocking the door, and stepped back to let her in. She slipped in, only as far as the entry, and leaned against the bulkhead with her hands behind her back.

 

He reached to shut the door, and missed. He couldn't believe his hand was shaking. On the second try, he managed to get the door shut, and locked.

 

They stared nervously at each other for a long moment, then Jet cupped her face in his flesh hand, and brushed his lips against hers. He could feel her trembling as much as he was.

 

Then the kiss deepened, and became more urgent, hungry.

 

The first time, it was sex. Raw, primal, passionate. An exercise in frustration relief. They were going to both have some bruises that they didn't want to have to explain in the morning. It didn't matter at the moment, as they took each other to the brink of ecstasy.

 

Jet silently acknowledged that McKenna had been… almost… right. He could barely handle her. It was a challenge he thoroughly enjoyed.

 

They collapsed in a tangled heap, breathless and sweating. Neither of them in any hurry to extricate themselves from each other.

 

But it wasn't long before they both recovered. Jet was surprised at himself. He hadn't been this ambitious since he was in his late teens. He certainly had no intention of fighting it, either.

 

The second time, it was lovemaking. A gentle exploring with hands and lips, and looking deep in each others eyes. It was connecting on a deeper level, and the ecstasy was more complete.

 

Jet fell into a deep sleep with his arm around her slender waist and his nose buried in her hair. He felt complete at that moment.