Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Clouds in My Coffee ❯ How About a Cappuccino? ( Chapter 6 )

Disclaimer: C'mon, you already know the drill…okay, I don't own CBBB, kay? Geez…

 

AN: Okay, I know I haven't updated in a few, but I've been a bit busy. Sorry for the delay. Plus I was trying to work out this chapter in my head in the best way possible. Still gotta get the romance going…chapter five was only a smidgin of what's to come. Lots of Faye/Jet fluffiness…yeesssss…and I wanna make it seem believable, so bear with me.

 

This chapter is pretty much just a starter of how the Blacks (awww…Faye's a Black now!) relationship evolves. Being married and being in love are two entirely different things. And Faye has yet to fall for Jet…but I'm thinking of some pretty nifty was that he's gonna go about this. Jet, my friends, is formulating a plan…

 

This chapter's dedicated to the three people that reviewed.

Negotiatrix, The Cat Puppy, and Kate Spiegel. Thanks you guys, and even though they're the only ones, I'm still so into this fic…cause maybe it'll catch on later.

 

 

Okay, now presenting Chapter 6 of CIMC…

 

How About a Cappuccino?

 

 

 

 

The first few days after weren't as different as one would've expected. Things went on like they had before; Jet woke up first and made coffee, and Faye woke up a little later, still a bit sluggish and drowsy, and sipped while he made breakfast. But there was something there that hadn't been before-understanding. He now knew her feelings for Spike and she knew that he loved her; with that knowledge, Jet felt more at ease and a lot more carefree. For once, he could think of his late friend fondly, without the edge of malice or jealousy that had been there before. His mind was now set primarily on one thing-how to get Faye to fall for him.

 

A couple of days after said incident, Jet sat on the couch combing through page after Internet page of potential bounties, trying to scout one that would be the biggest payoff. Big bucks weren't really his thing, never had been, even as his two younger comrades had scoured the solar system after a bounty that packed enough woolongs to choke a horse. All he needed were a few bucks and some peace, and he was fine. But this was a tad bit different. He'd been saving for a few months, but the money still wasn't enough and Jet knew that if he got just the right catch, then his plans-renovating the Bebop through and through-could easily be realize. Almost as if the computer was reading his mind, a bounty popped up that caught his eye. “Marcos Graham Sibley, master hacker, thief, wanted in Tharsis for robbing a convenience store while armed, yada yada yada…oh…OH…killed two clerks and five customers…shot and wounded one policeman and fatally wounded the other…worth 1.2 million woolongs! Faye!” Faye, still in her pajamas and currently working on her eggs benedict brought her plate with her as she walked into the living room. “What?” she asked after swallowing. “Bounty up, big one too!” He looked giddy, and Faye could hardly hold back a laugh at how excited he was. “That's great, Jet, but um…what do we need…12,000 woo-Holy moly!” She read the figure over again set the plate down on the coffee table. “Well…excuse me! 1.2 mil, eh?” “Yes, ma'am,” Jet said grinning, “And I do believe I have a way of catching Mr. Sibley.”

 

A few hours later and Faye sat in Jet's room, sitting quietly on the bed and staring at the typewriter. They wouldn't be going after Marcos until later that evening, and with Jet still setting up a few plans, she had time to write. Only thing was, though, she couldn't. Faye sat staring at the typewriter for an hour before she finally gave up. Usually, it barely took a minute to spark something in her head, but today her muse seemed to be giving her a really hard time. Initially, she blamed it on all the events that had happened in the past few days-from her impromptu marriage to Jet to his sudden declaration-but she knew that really had nothing to do with it. If anything, the crazy life she'd been leading so far seemed to have been just the kind of fodder for her imagination. So what was the deal? These were memoirs, for goodness sakes, memories that she had in her mind and heart and should've been so easy to put down on paper…only problem was that she couldn't. Then again, writing ideas was one thing and the delivery was another. Faye could only chalk it up to one thing-writer's block.

 

Growling in frustration, Faye didn't even notice that Jet was standing in the doorway until he spoke up. “Ya know, just looking at that thing ain't gonna make any words get on the paper.” He tilted his head to the side just in time to watch one of his pillows fly across the room and out the door. “Oi, shut up! I know that! I've just been thinking, that's all.” “That's nice and everything,” Jet continued, an amused little smirk on his face, “but we've got things to do. I'd figured I'd find you ready by now.” Faye frowned and stared at him for a few seconds before catching on to what he was talking about. “Oh, crap…I'm not ready yet! And this thing won't go off right if I don't get dressed just right!” She rolled over in a hurry, just barely missing knocking the typewriter off with her feet, and tried to get her footing so she could bound out the door but wound up miscalculating the space between the bed and the floor. With the grace of an elephant, she fell clumsily to the floor.

 

Or almost fell. Without her even realizing it, Jet had darted across the room and stopped her fall by catching her. Now, breathless and flushed, she looked up into his eyes from her position in his arms, he kneeling on the floor and she cradled like a child. “Klutz,” he whispered, and she touched his cheek, a thankful smile on her face. “What would I do without you, huh?” and slowly traced her finger over his lips. Those lips…they were just calling for her to kiss them. Faye had promised her self that she couldn't, wouldn't, shouldn't jump into any kind of romantic relationship with Jet; he was a nice guy-dependable, honest, caring(though he tried not to show it), hardworking, and really sweet when he put his mind to it…but he was her friend, and only her friend…right? That night, when he confessed and she explained, their wedding night, he'd kissed her again after everything and she went to bed with the feeling of his lips on hers. And for the next few days since, she couldn't get how lovely they felt on hers out her mind. Subconsciously, Faye realized that she'd been looking forward to kissing him again, and, before her head could tell her hands otherwise, she pulled his head down and kissed him softly on the lips.

 

Jet sank easily into the kiss, not really worried about their current position or even aware of how it had happened. The point was, she was kissing him. She was kissing him! It was a quick kiss, but very sweet and Faye found herself wishing that she didn't have to let go of him. But Jet's knees were quivering and if he didn't get up then, he'd probably fall, so, with a mental sigh and a smile, she got up and walked on wobbly legs toward the door. “I'ma go get ready, so…I'll meet you in the hangar, kay?” Jet didn't even turn to face her; he just waved his hand and murmured a reply in response. He didn't want her to see the dazed look on his face. When Faye closed the door, a rather pleased Jet sat on his bed and worked out a few last minute details for the catch on a piece of scratch typing paper. When that was done, he sat still for a few seconds and listened to the faint roar of the shower as Faye bathed. Tapping his pen on the side of his hand he pulled out another sheet of paper and began making a new list.

 

He titled it, How to make Faye fall in love with me…

 

oo0oo

 

At a nightclub on the outskirts of Tharsis, Marcos Graham Sibley sat at the bar and sipped his martini. Idly staring at the buxom barmaid currently taking the order of the man next to him, he began planning his next move. Marcos knew there was a bounty on his head; anybody with Internet access and common sense knew what the ISSP were after him for. He'd never meant for the show down at the 7/11 to go down the way it did, but the clerk just kept talking back and his little workmate kept threatening to pull a gun on him and then…well, something snapped. Then the cops showed up and he couldn't just let them hall him off to jail, now could he? No, of course not. Marcos wasn't jail material. Sure, he was a pretty good marksman and a pro at jujitsu, but he wasn't jail material. He looked too good for that.

 

Among his other talents, he was also an expert charmer and an un-apologizing womanizer…which was probably why Janelle, his first wife, had left him in the first place. Not that he cared; Janelle was as refreshing as a cup of motor oil, as sweet as a spoonful of Robitussin, as soft as a cactus. He'd been 18 at the time, and nothing but pure infatuation could explain why he'd married her-she was 10 years his senior then, and broke-but he couldn't help being attracted to her. She was blond, and busty and rather slim, sort of like a life sized Barbie doll, but he had a feeling that even Barbie was a tad bit more agreeable, and she was plastic. So, with the annulment (since they'd only been married for three months) he set out for a life a crime, because law school was boring and had been at it ever since. Now, at 34 years old, with about 21 million in the bank and counting and a very hot bartender named Lori currently listening to his life story, Marcos felt like he was on top of the world. He was in safe territory; this part of Tharsis was protected by the local yakuza gang-the Omemushi Gang-and ISSP knew better than to step in Omemushi territory. As an added bonus, he was high school buddies with Hirokuto Omemushi, the oyabun's son, so he had immunity when it came to the yakuza. He knew that any worthy bounty hunter wouldn't dare come after him in here. Even though this was the rough parts of Tharsis, the Tom Tom club was a high end establishment, and a nice way to hide from cowboys.

 

Marcos, however, was in for a big surprise.

 

Unbeknownst to him, Lori, the very pretty redhead bartender that was flirting with him, had no plans on going home with him. In fact, she found him annoying, irritating, and very egotistical. Sure, the guy was gorgeous-long, mid-waist length black hair, piercing violet eyes, and the sort of bad boy my-daddy-owns-the-world attitude that some girls seemed to fall for-but he was still a jerk. And besides, she had a boyfriend anyway. But Marcos didn't know that, and she had no plans on telling him. She did, however, have plans on helping to turn in his arrogant butt in to the ISSP. Lori, you see, had some old friends of her own that were going to bring this bad boy in.

 

She glanced at the clock, and brought out another bottle of Vermouth for his martini refill. Lori didn't know if this was illegal or not, and honestly, she really didn't care, but she inconspicuously dropped a tablet into the drink, which fizzed for about a second and dissolved, leaving no trace that it had even been in the alcohol. 8:36…four more minutes and Jet and his partner would be walking through that door. By then, the drug would have taken effect, and Marcos, though highly alert and still his annoying self, would be nearly incapable of practicing his “bad super fly jujitsu moves” on either of the cowboys. Neither of his limbs would work with him; all Marcos would be capable of within the next fifteen minutes would be to slump down on the floor, paralyzed for the next few hours. And those few hours would be just enough time to get him to ISSP headquarters in Alba City, two hours away.

 

“So anyways, baby,”-and Lori cringed at the sound of his voice, although it was deliciously smooth and sophisticated-“I was thinking. You, me, my penthouse suite on the other side of town. If you act right, I might take you on a shopping spree in the morning.” Lori smiled and tried to control the gritting of her teeth. Three more minutes. “Oh, sorry honey,” she cooed and propped her elbow up on the counter. “I've got classes in the morning. Plus, I don't think Chris would want me going home with you, no matter how cute you are.” She reached out and touched the tip of his perfect nose as affectionately as she could muster. He gave a playful whimper and pouted, but Lori just laughed and turned around, staring at the clock as if she make the minutes turn faster. Two minutes. “C'mon, Jet…being punctual don't hurt,” she muttered under her breath and moved down the bar to serve another customer. She could feel Marcos' eyes all over her, though, and it made her irritable. After mixing the gentleman's drink she glanced at the clock again, and was relived to find that it was currently 8:40. No sooner than she'd looked back to the door than did Jet Black and a very pretty violet haired woman, whom Lori assumed was his partner, come walking through the door.

 

Jet sat at the bar as Faye wandered over to a table and ordered from there. The idea was not to let on that he and she knew each other, so, that when the time came for Faye to confront Marcos as was planned, the scheme would go off without a hitch. As for Jet, all he really had to do was be back up. If Lori's drug worked the way she said it would over the comm. then within a few minutes' time, they would have a bound Marcos on his way to ISSP headquarters, and by the next morning, he and Faye would be 1.2 million woolongs richer. “Gimme a scotch on the rocks,” he said, signaling to Lori that Operation Catch Marcos had officially gone into effect. From the corner of his eye, he saw said bounty sitting two stools away from him, sipping his martini elegantly, his eyes wandering from girl to girl and occasionally stopping on Lori. When the redhead beauty had gotten Jet his drink, she silently drummed her two middle fingers on the left of Jet's napkin, and Faye, across the room, caught the signal to `come over'. Part two was now in effect.

 

Sauntering up to the bar and sitting at the stool right beside Marcos, Faye crossed her legs slowly, more than aware that her skirt had slid up five inches to stop mid thigh-and that Marcos' attention was now diverted to her legs. A sly, slinky smile graced his lips and he sipped again from the drink in his hand, his eyes wandering up her body unashamedly. Faye pretended not to notice and did her best to suppress the shiver of apprehension that ran up her spine from his gaze. Guys like that give me the creeps. With a silent sigh and tap of Jet's finger in signal, she turned her head ever so slightly in Marcos' way. “Hmmm, I love this song,” she cooed, her voice oozing with sensuality. “One of my favorites,” Marcos drawled back, the sly smile a full on grin, his eyes sparkling seductively. If he couldn't get the pretty redhead behind the bar, maybe he could have Ms. Green Eyes in the little black dress. Faye turned around then and smiled. “Oh, really?” “Yes,” he murmured. “I've always had a soft spot for Ella.” Faye giggled. “So have I,” she agreed. “Then again, it sort of helps when your name's Ella, too.” “Really,” Marcos asked, his eyes widening. `Good job, Sibley. Play on that card and you've got this Ella in the bank.' “Mmm hmm,” she replied, taking a sip of the drink that Lori had just brought her and lowered her eyelashes. Stroking his fingers with one of her own, she turned completely his way and propped her elbow up on the counter. “My mother named me Ella because she loved this song so much. I guess everyone needs someone to watch over them, hmmm?” Marcos, feeling a bit more low key than usual, chuckled and took her hand completely in his. “You wanna know my favorite line in this song?” Faye tossed her hair and bit her ruby bottom lip in mock thought. “Oh, let me guess, um…” “Marcos,” he finished for her. “Call me Marcos.” Faye laughed, turning the charm up to ten and batting her eyes. “Well, Marcos,” and she punctuated his name with a breathy sort of tone, “I bet you a drink that I can guess which line is yours.” “What makes you think that?” she reached out and touched his chin and smiled. “I know my people.” Marcos let his eyes wander up her legs again, and drank in the sight, then turned his attention back to her. “Alright. I'd like to see you try.” Staring at him for a second, Faye put a finger to her chin and pretended to think. “Is it…'I'd like to add his initial to my monogram'?” she asked sultrily. Marcos feigned surprise; in actuality, he didn't even know this particular Ella Fitzgerald song, but he decided to go with it anyway. “Good job, Ella. Seems you know your people.”

 

From his station a stool away from Faye, Jet could hear every syllable of the conversation between Faye and Marcos. Faye was really pouring on the charm, luring Marcos in with every hitch of her skirt. Though he knew this was merely Faye at play, on the job, giving her best performance (the girl really could be an actress), he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy and possessiveness as he listened. Before he had a chance to glare sulkily at the pair, Lori passed him another drink and smiled in his direction. “Jet Black. Nice to see you too again.” Jet, startled a little, blushed briefly and chuckled. “Sorry bout that Lori. I guess my mind was a little preoccupied.” Lori waved it away and pulled a stool from under the bar and sat across from him. “Don't think nothing of it. But I wouldn't worry about your partner there. She seems to be able to handle herself just fine.” “She can,” Jet agreed and nodded, taking a sip from his new scotch. “But that guys as slimy as they come and, well, I don't know. I'm just a little worried.” “just like you, Jet,” Lori said fondly. “Always worried about somebody. But enough of that right now. How have you been?” “Alright I guess,” he said. “After I quit ISSP I took up bounty hunting.” Lori raised an eyebrow. “From detective to cowboy, huh? Not too far from each other.” Jet snorted and gave a short laugh. “You'd be surprised. Anyway, I teamed up with this guy…we were partners for three years till we met Faye,” and he nodded inconspicuously toward Faye (currently Ella). “Faye sort of shook up our rather dull existence, ya know, like she was the most exciting to happen to us since sliced bread.” Lori sniggled. “Wow, Jet…that's boring.” “I know, I know,” he said after laughing with her. “But I liked it that way. When she showed up, I didn't want her on the team anymore than he did. I don't know why I let her stay. I guess cause, well, a few weeks after showing up, she wound up showing her worth I guess.” He thought back to that night at the church…

 

Faye called him, frantic and half crazed, but managing to hold it together. Her dress in tatters, her hair messed up and blood splattered on her flawless skin. When he showed up, she held a broken Spike in her arms, her fingers pressed against his pulse, her eyes wild. “He's gonna die, Jet. God, he's gonna die!” “No, he's not!” he growled, trying not to show his own desperation and worry, and carefully lifted the battered young man into his ship to take him to a doctor he knew. For few moments, as police sirens rang out and the rain began to pour, he glanced back to find Faye standing there in shock, the smoke from the bombed cathedral pouring out of the shattered stained glass window behind her. She looked so haggard, and for the first time, Jet saw her with her defenses down. She looked every bit as scared as she was, soaking in the rain and smoke but not seeming to care. Her eyes were fixed on Spike's unmoving body. “Faye, we gotta go!” Jet ground out, a little harsher than he wanted, but it seemed to snap her back into action. The fierce look of determination that he'd come to recognize whenever she set her mind on something flashed in her eyes, and she ran on unsteady legs to his ship, sinking in beside unconscious Spike and focusing her eyes grimly on windshield. And though Jet hadn't ever admitted it to her or Spike, he found himself admiring her bravery.

 

“So, anyways, we kinda just got used to her…and then this little girl shows up and we already had a dog.” “Awww, a little family!” Lori said smiling. He rolled his eyes, but smiled too. “Right…and we were always broke and hungry and arguing and I couldn't wait until I got rid of those three…or four if you count the dog…but then, my partner, Spike…he had some things in his past and…he got himself killed cause of it.” Jet stared at his glass and sighed. “The girl, Ed, she'd already taken off and took the dog with her. It was just Faye and me after Spike died. She…took it pretty hard. I guess I did too, I didn't wanna show it around her. After a while, we sort of became friends and now she's my partner and…As crazy as those days were, I don't bet neither of us would've taken them back for the world.” He smiled sadly as he remembered those few crazy months on the Bebop; they would always be some good memories, but haunted with a mix of sadness and nostalgia. “Oh, Jet, I'm sorry about that,” Lori said quietly. “But you two seem to be close. I mean, I could tell just by how you guys walked in together. Are you sure you're just partners?” Jet's eyes widened and he chuckled nervously. “Oh, well… um…how's your brother doing?” he asked, trying to change the subject. “Fine,” Lori said quirking her eyebrow and giving Jet a wry little grin. “But don't think you're gonna get out of answering my question.” Jet sighed and shook his head. Lori always had a way of getting the truth out of people.

 

Jet turned his head just in time to hear Faye giggle about something Marcos said. Then, with a slight twist of her wrist to the right she signaled part three of their plan. She had to lure Marcos into the trap. Leading him into a secluded, dark part of the Tom Tom club, they began dancing slowly (and a bit too close for Jet's liking) to the song playing. He watched her underneath the hat he wore, and from across the room, he could tell that Marcos's agility was starting to slack a little. Lori finished another order and fixed herself a Coke. “It's been a little while…that stuff should take into effect in a little while.” Jet nodded. If this went the way he wanted, he could have Marcos tied and bound and ready for drop off in less than three hours. “While we're waiting,” Lori said, “you could always tell me about that lovely ring on your left hand.” Jet looked at the mentioned appendage and sat still. Geez, Jet. How'd you forget about the ring? It wasn't that he didn't want anybody to know that he was married to Faye, but in this situation, he didn't want to cause any kinds of complications. “Well, about that…”

 

Faye, dancing with Marcos in the corner, mentally counted off the minutes until the con was rendered completely immobile. If the stuff started working fifteen minutes after first sip, and Lori had given him the drink four minutes before they arrived…she did some math in her head and realized that she had been flirting with Marcos for only about three minutes. Ugh…come on already! Hurry up! She had eight minutes…till complete paralysis. But that didn't mean she couldn't snag him soon. For the next few minutes, she danced and flirted and giggled and laughed before deciding to procede to part four. She had to get him alone. “You know, I'm getting tired of this place.” She flashed him a suggestive grin and played with a stray strand of his ebony hair. “I was just thinking the same thing,” he murmured and nuzzled his nose into the side of Faye's neck. Not wanting to send any contrary signals, she stifled the need to stiffen at his embrace and glanced at Jet, who had the weirdest look on his face (was he jealous?) to give him the signal. “How bout my place?” Marcos cooed and Faye forced a smile. “Sure, thing sweety. Let me get my purse.” Walking with as much badaboom as she could, she retrieved her purse from the bar and took out a thin card to hand to Lori before turning around and heading toward the door where Marcos was waiting.

 

As soon as the two were gone, Jet turned to Lori who flipped open the card and stared at the small screen on top. “Okay, Jet,” she said, pointing to a dot on the screen and showing him how it moved along the grid. “This is Faye, the red dot, and from what it looks like, she and Marcos are headed toward the parking lot a block from here.” Jet nodded and took the small tracking device from Lori and handed her a twenty. “Thanks, Lori,” he said and saluted her before sweeping out the door to track his wife and the bounty back to the suite he was taking her to.

 

 

Yay! Another chapter! So, next chapter will show how Jet and Faye catch Marcos, how the bounty almost gets out of control, and how our pair get just a little closer. Plus, they've got some remodeling to do! Seems like this is gonna be one interesting summer…

So you know the drill. Read. Review. Rinse. Repeat…

 

Later,

BB