Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Break of Dawn ❯ Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Don't own Cowboy Bebop !!!

Chapter One.

"Only two of you?" the prim woman asked in surprise. Her bright owlish eyes scrunched in disappointment behind her red-framed glasses. "This just won't do. I was expecting the notorious Spike Spiegel and the genius hacker to be on board with this too."

Jet goggled at first before his mouth settled into a mocking smirk. "The loss of our crew-members is our personal tragedy, not yours. Once we agree on the price of this bounty, you'll find we're both…" at this he refrained from stealing a doubting glance at Faye, "capable bounty hunters."

Despite the determined glint in Jet's eye, the personal assistant cocked her own disdainful sniff at him. "If I had ever heard of `Jet Black' as much as `Spike Spiegel', I wouldn't doubt it."

Unlike Jet, she didn't refrain from casting a doubtful eye on Faye, dressed in her usual skimpy gold outfit. "What are you? The bait?."

Faye turned away from her emotionless study of the cast portrait of "The Ballad of Fallen Angels" behind her head. The gamine determination in her eyes made the outrageously garish office pale in comparison.

"I'm not as easy as I look."

There was a brief silence as they met eye to eye. The sudden flare of life in Faye stopped the woman's condescending tirade like a bat to the head. "Yes, well… Miss Applegate's been frustrated and panicked ever since her usual gift of flowers and love-letters has turned into.. break-ins and theft. And that's only a polite way of putting it. You wouldn't believe the sacrifice she's making for the studio, her career as an artiste for the people: She delivers a stellar performance every time despite the fact that she's had a hard time with this stalker." She moved with business-like briskness to another cast-photo where her fingers instinctively felt for a hidden button. The colours brightened for an instant before dropping away like sand in an hour-glass, confirming Faye's earlier assessment of the portraits when a safe was revealed.

"With the ISSP being little more than a holiday resort for it's employees, we didn't trouble ourselves with handing over this case to them." Retrieving a bulky silver case from the safe, she handed it to Jet. "There is a catalogue of items Miss Applegate has received from her stalker over the last six months. You will be legally obliged to keep all its contents a secret from the press etc.."

Jet staggered under the weight of the suitcase the little woman had lifted so effortlessly before. "Uh… About our pay…"

"Yes, yes." She replied impatiently, as if Jet was a nagging old hag. Two leather-bound binders appeared in her hands. "You'll have to excuse me while I adjust the amounts. The amount was originally divided between the FOUR of you." She tsked in agitation, as if the sudden change in their numbers was a personal inconvenience. Faye surprised herself by thinking the same.

Hmph. If they were here, I'd be haggling for a bigger piece of the share.

As it was, Jet and Faye had fallen into an uneasy comraderie: both attracted by the security of solitude, and yet secretly, resentfully needing the comfort of companionship.

"Right." The woman said officially, looking over the readjusted amounts with eyes as sharp as twin blades. She huffed self-importantly before handing a binder each to Faye and Jet.

"You both understand that PRIOR to the stalker's capture, you will be awarded a certain percentage of the total fee of 20 million woolongs to help you with buying equipment, nourishment..." and then she looked at Faye pointedly. "Clothes…"

Only Faye really heard the last comment. Jet was still stuck on the sum. "You really want to get this guy, huh?" Jet blurted out in surprise. The woman's eyebrow ticked momentarily at the sudden interruption.

"You'll both receive the prerequisite 10 percent, which will be divided as such: Jet Black eight point seventy-five percent, Faye Valentine - one point twenty-five percent…"

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" Faye protested, standing upright in her chair. Jet never met anybody scarier than Faye when money (or whose turn it was to take a bath) were involved.

"Even if we finish the job, my split of the bounty isn't enough to feed a damn dog!!!"

The woman patronized her with an ironic smile. "Really overreaching yourself, aren't you? Think of it as a charitable incentive for a woman starting out in the bounty hunter business. The big stars get to demand their pay. You're just an extra, darling."

Jet winced inwardly, realizing how many times he and Spike had lashed out at Faye for being such an unwelcome burden to their company. He'd never felt guilty for it until he heard the same thing insinuated from a stranger's lips.

Faye's eyes had blanked for a second. This woman probably wears cheap granny underwear under that Prada suit and she's unknowingly hit on the truth of my life. But then her signature calculating smile emerged, her eyes glinted fire.

"Let me guess, you auditioned for the same role as Miss Applegate. Five years later, she's getting top-billing and you're stuck behind a desk scheduling her pedicure appointments while you soak the corns on your feet in bulk-bought Epsom salt."

"Hmph." Was all the woman said, readjusting her glasses. "I take it you don't agree with the percentage division, then."

"Is "Understatement of the Year" the only thing you're good at?" Faye asked angrily. "No!! Of COURSE IT ISN'T!!!"

She threw a suspicious glance at Jet who had mysteriously remained silent.

"Hoi… Old man."

"Uhhhh…" Jet mumbled, cradling the suitcase and binder in his arms.

"We do bounties together, or not at all… Isn't that the pinky-promise we did the other day?"

"I don't recall saying anything like that." Jet replied in surprise. "Good God, you really DO try anything to wriggle money out of me, don't you?" But then a hazy, alcohol-laced image of them twining little fingers together over a bar-table and swearing undying loyalty, comradeship and whatever else drunken people say to each other came to his mind's eye. Do bounties together or not at all? Shit. It's starting to sound familiar now.

It was the typical, lifeless night aboard the Bebop. Somehow it felt even lonelier with Faye's company than when he was alone. When she wasn't on the thrill of catching bounties, she'd just sit on the yellow couch calmly smoking one cigarette after another until he fed her. Her bounty hunting skills were mediocre compared to what she used to be. Whatever pride and arrogance that held her together had dissolved after Spike had gone. Whatever illusory hope she had about a home or some place magical that was her life before cryo-freeze never was. Whatever happy ending that should come when the princess finally realizes who she is and where she truly belongs - couldn't happen because it was real life.

"I don't like being like this, you know." She could feel his beady black eyes in the back of her head. He grunted in surprise, stirring more vigorously at his bell peppers fry-up as if he'd never been watching her.

"Then take a steady job." He replied gruffly, masking his concern in a disapproving frown. He plunked her plate in front of her as if she was some ungrateful brat. "You may have been impulsive and brash before, but you still got your bounty." Sometimes. "I can't take care of you like this."

"Kicking me out, huh?"

"Hmph. You know when I've seen that look in your eyes?"

"Old man, I've NEVER given you a look."

"It's the same glazed look you see in a cop's eyes right before he calls it quits." At her silence, he put his own plate down and frowned over his crossed arms. "You know your body's moving, but your heart isn't there."

At the mention of `heart', Faye felt her lower lip start to quiver.

Jet's surprised, "Oi!!" signaled that he'd seen it too. What to do? What to do??? "it's okay, you can stay here as long as you like…" he said in an overly sympathetic tone, as if placating a child before the wailing and the tears began to burst out all at once. He wafted a magazine in her face as if the meager wind would dry up the tears threatening to spill.

"YOU IDIOT!!!" She screamed, tearing the magazine out of his hand and hitting his bald head with it, hating him for his clumsy, awkward, unknowing, male stupidity!

And then as if all the tension in her body had fled with those two words, she threw herself back onto the couch panting. The sight of Jet's eye peering cautiously through his upheld arms like some scared little rabbit drew a string of raucous, girlish laughter he'd never heard from her before.

He let her laugh. It sounded like music on this ghost-like ship. Easing himself back against the yellow couch, he lit a self-congratulatory cigarette. Maybe things weren't going to turn out so badly after all.

"Oi." He said after her giggling fit had died down.

"What??" she called back, wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Spike said he had a six-pack of beer behind the fridge." He gripped her shoulder with his synthetic arm before she could reply. "Let's forget the last six months happened for tonight."

When he returned with the six-pack, they both stared at it for a long while. It was one thing to acknowledge faintly that the lunkhead wasn't coming back, it was another to meet that fact face to face by touching his food and beverage.

It's not that fun mooching off him when he doesn't need it anymore. Faye thought, feeling her lower lip quiver again.

"Come on, now. No more tears." Jet's voice was low, somber. He said it to comfort Faye, but it sounded like he was trying to comfort himself. As if putting a bullet in a gun, he slowly picked one bottle from the pack and twisted it open.

They went through five before Faye's hand stopped on the last one.

"What's the matter?" Jet asked as she put it back in the fridge.

She shrugged, stretching her arms overhead and linking them behind her head. "Nothing." She replied defensively. "Drinking at home with nothing but a tv and an old man for company just isn't my style."

She counted three seconds before the vein on his forehead, which Spike used to call the "weather-vane" to gauge Jet's moods, began to bulge and beat at a heated pace. Before he could come up with a suitable comeback, Faye had skipped out of the living room and into the Redtail.

Jet was still on the couch, arms crossed, eyebrows so furrowed his eyes were closed. He was mentally cursing himself for ever thinking that woman had any sort of decency for other people. She was tearful long enough to enjoy the last dregs of beer, but woe betide her if she ever stayed long enough for the lights to come on.

"Oi." Her voice called from around the corner.

He opened an eye, his mouth set in a firm, granite line across his face. He was NOT going to lend her any money. He was going to be firm.

"Don't sit there like a wet toad, let's BOTH go out for a drink."

"Oh? Go get some other man to pay for your drinks like you usually do." He shut his eyes against her resolutely. And then he smelled it.

Cash wafted underneath his nose.

"If that's my money you've stolen, you've got five seconds to put it back into my pocket before I open my eyes."

"Jet."

Her voice was soft.

When he opened her eyes, she sat across from him on the table, knees tucked between his widespread ones.

"Let's do something we wouldn't normally do together." Her voice was so beguiling and gentle. He drew closer, realizing his mouth had become dry.

"What's that?" he asked her, admiring the fresh sheen of her green eyes.

"Go to the casino. My treat!" she exclaimed loudly, brandishing her hard-won cash.

"Oh? Is that all?" Jet asked with ill-concealed disappointment in his voice.

"Oh?" Faye echoed, wondering what could be bothering the old man now. When she recalled how he'd eagerly leant towards her and his subsequent disappointment at her suggestion of the casino, she suddenly put two and two together.

"Never mind." Jet said before she could utter a word. He turned away, but could still feel her knowing smile burning into his back.

That's right, we went to the casino but ended up at the bar. Talking about Spike. The hole he left behind. Our own goddamned helplessness. He swiped a hand down his face. That's when we promised to do things together.. He remembered he was the one who started the pact after seeing her wan, guilt-ridden face. It was rare for anyone to look good in the casino's bright halogen lighting, but Faye's sharp and delicate features were only heightened in the harsh glare. She looked ethereal, and she looked so alone. It wasn't hard to miss the lines of regret quivering around her eyes which were easily missed during the light of day.

"Right." He said gruffly, slamming his whiskey tumbler down. "We're not doing this anymore."

"doing what, you drunk old man?"

"From now on, we're working as partners. No more of this solo, personal-business-to-be-taken-care-of, my-personal-life-is-more-important-than-our-friendship, I-want-the-whole-bounty-to-myself…" he squinted, thinking of a more appropriate word, but finally settled on "shit."

He pinned her with his knowing, confident eyes. "We take care of each other, we do bounties together. Spike went back to confront his past, his real-life. It's time we stopped moping about the past, or the future, and do the same." He twitched his little finger in her face. "Together, or not at all. That's your chance of staying on my ship, Faye. Otherwise you'd better be packing your bags when we get back."

She didn't take it immediately, only continued to stir her cocktail. What seemed like an eternity later, she looked up at him.

"Fine. But we're dividing bounties 50-50." Faye replied, linking her pinky with his and twisting it till he grimaced.

"You still awake, old man?"

Jet looked up from the office floor he'd been steadily contemplating and looked up into Faye's green eyes.

"I might as well just pack my bags if you're just going to take the lion's share."

"Don't get your panties in a twist." He grunted, rubbing his bald head. Then he turned to the woman and jerked his head in Faye's direction. "Divide our bounty 50:50, or she'll stay hear and scream the ceiling down."

White ceiling. Heart monitor. Metal bed. Don't tell me I'm still alive. The man began to laugh, but a searing pain spiked up through his midsection so he was left with a pathetic croak and a grimace.

"Oh?" a deep, throaty voice greeted him in surprise.

He flicked his eyes towards the woman by the window. He was disappointed to find that the curtains behind her were closed. The first thing that should have greeted him on his miraculous resurrection was the sky. Blue. Boundless. Infinite.

The woman had risen from the small table where she was occupying herself with a game of solitaire. She crossed the space between them, hands tucked into her doctor's medical jacket. The dim light sneaking in from behind the closed curtains washed the silver hair loose from her braid in a pale nimbus. Sharp blue eyes studied his as she automatically peeled his eyelids up to check on his eyes.

"So you're finally awake. It's about time."