Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Low Down ❯ Low Down ( Chapter 1 )

a/n: This story used to be part of a one-shot series that I was working on. Unfortunately since a lot of these stories were my first, awkward fumblings in the “Cowboy Bebop” fandom,, I didn't feel that they were really quite good enough to post (I know, I know, god I'm picky). For some reason, though, this one stuck out as worthy. It's kind of fluffy and almost sweet, a nice break from the angst and drama prevalent in a lot of my other fics. Be gentle, Spike's still being a little shy with me, but we're starting to work it out. Oh yeah, and by betas have gone AWOL, so I'm winging it solo once more.

 

Disclaimer: The characters of “Cowboy Bebop” do not belong to me. Ummm…I'm afraid I can't recall the name of their creator at the moment (forgot to write it down…oi, baka!), but well…It ain't me.

 

“Low Down”

 

 

Faye was having a very bad day. Not only had she managed to lose a bounty to another hunter but she'd also had some bad luck with the ponies. In one day, she'd let five hundred thousand woolongs slip though her fingers and lost another thousand on several unfortunate bets on unlucky horses.

 

Maybe, She thought as she entered a small Martian bar, I should start re-thinking my lot in life. This was not the first time the thought had crossed her mind, nor would it be the last, but she also knew that she would never really try to change things.

 

She decided to make the best of the last of her woolongs and get just drunk enough to be able to deal with Spike and Jet once she got back to The Bebop. Faye was considering disappearing for a little awhile in the hopes that they would forget about the money she'd lost, but that didn't always work. Jet had incredible powers of recall when it came to the subject of Faye and money, and Spike wasn't nearly as stupid as he lead people to believe.

 

Unless she wanted to make one of her more permanent disappearing acts, she'd have to face the music some time. Faye often wondered why she didn't leave, why she put up with them when they caused her so much aggravation. The answer was usually simple enough: Quite frankly, Faye had dealt with worse.

 

Still, that didn't mean that she wanted to deal with Jet's disappointed-father scowl or Spike's smug disinterest without a dose of courage. Faye sidled up to the crowded bar and ordered their cheapest beer. It tasted awful, but she wasn't drinking for pleasure tonight.

 

She really should have been more satisfied with the way her life was going. Faye had the perfect set-up: Relatively easy money, a place to crash that wasn't in a fixed location, not to mention half-way decent back-up no matter how much shit those boys gave her.

 

Things were starting to get complicated, though.

 

Faye scowled into her beer and flicked the long cylinder of ash that had gathered at the tip of her cigarette onto the floor. She didn't know why he was on her mind more often than was sane or healthy. Of course this sort of thing happened all the time. There was no reason for her to get up in arms about it. It was really quite simple but stupid and frustrating all the same.

 

Faye had a thing for Spike.

 

It was all so humiliating and completely against everything she'd come to believe in. Aside from the occasional glittering moments of compassion and flirting, Spike never showed her a bit of interest.

 

I'm so pathetic, Faye thought glumly. She needed to get a life, she needed to get away, but the funny thing was, she didn't want to. It wasn't just about Spike, though that was admittedly part of it. In some strange manner, The Bebop felt like home or something close to it.

 

Faye reached the bottom of the bottle and ordered another. She wanted to chase away the uncertainty as well as the comfort.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Faye leaned against the outside wall of the bar. She was drunk, a lot drunker than she'd meant to become. Stupid, Her mind fumbled, if I go back now, I'll never hear the end of it.

 

Earlier thoughts of The Bebop feeling safe and familiar felt like some kind of fuzzy, half-remembered dream. Deep down she knew (or maybe more like feared) that it was just like any other place she'd tried to call her own. She was just biding the time until she wore out her welcome.

 

“Fuck,” Faye muttered. Beside her, a man leaned against the same outside wall. She didn't pay him any mind. She did lean slightly away from him and sighed heavily. Her sigh blew out into a low exhalation of “I need a goddamned cigarette.”

 

The man next to her chuckled softly and she was surprised when a slender, long-fingered hand offered her exactly what she'd longed for. Huh, Faye thought fuzzily, that's convenient. She accepted the cigarette as well as the flame that followed.

 

“Hey thanks,” she looked up at her benefactor. Faye's flirty grin curved downward the instant she saw his profile, which was illuminated by the pale glow of city lights and the burn of his cigarette.

 

“You,” Faye half-growled.

 

Spike grinned and looked at her from the corner of his eye, “Nice greeting, Faye.”

 

“What do you want?” She glared up at him.

 

He shrugged, his smile saying everything and nothing. Faye sighed and decided to ignore him. Whatever he was playing at, she wanted no part of it.

 

Not now, not ever.

 

At least that was what she told herself.

 

“Bad day?”

 

Faye blinked and turned more fully to face him. “What? Since when do you care?”

 

Spike's body rolled languidly to mirror her position and slumped even more than usual so that they stood facing each other nearly eye to eye. “Good point,” he appeared thoughtful, “but right now, I care.”

 

Faye snorted, “Right. Look, I don't know what kind of game you're playing, Spike, but I'm really in no mood for your shit.”

 

He sighed softly and closed his eyes, “I take it you lost another bounty, huh?”

 

Faye bristled at his slightly condescending tone. “Like you've never fucked up a hunt,” she sneered.

 

Spike shrugged, “yeah well, I'm not a free-loading con artist with debts out her cute little ass and no interest in paying them off.”

 

“What do you know? I have every intention of getting in the clear! Do you think I like living as a fugitive?”

 

“I think that it must not bother you as much as you say it does.”

 

Faye felt her mouth fall open. The fucking gall of this man! Yet even as she felt her anger boil, tears threaten to spill as well. “I…I,” Faye fought to form words, but in the end, she just squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “Go to hell, Spike.”

 

She tried to turn away but he caught one of her wrists in order to keep her facing him. “Why do you have to be such an asshole to me all the time? I'm so sick of it! Why the fuck won't you just leave me the hell alone?” Faye cried out, knowing how melodramatic she was sounding but finding it even harder to care one way or another.

 

Spike leaned down and peered into her face, expression incredulous, “Damn Faye, you're really drunk, aren't you?”

 

Faye wrenched herself free of his grip and swiped her hands across her cheeks, angrily wiping away her tears. “Fuck you.”

 

He rolled his eyes and sighed as his fingers wrapped around her wrist once more, “C'mon, let's get you somewhere so you can sober up.”

 

Faye looked up at him but he was already turning away, tugging her along as he began to stride forward. She scowled at his back but did not protest.

 

*~*~*~*

 

Spike had never seen Faye in such a state before. Not so much the drunken part, more the tears and emotional wreck part. He wondered what had gotten to her; certainly not his teasing? Spike gave her shit all the time, but never before had she become a teary-eyed mess over it. He'd like to think that it was the alcohol talking, but then he had to take into account that something had to have triggered her drinking binge. Somehow, he doubted that it was completely about the bounty head that she'd lost. Faye had been unlucky before, and it had never led to such an episode.

 

Spike took her to a late-night café, left her with his pack of cigarettes at one of the small tables in the open-air seating, and went to order her a cup of tea. He didn't honestly know why he was feeling so generous towards her tonight. Maybe it was because he'd always been weak for feminine vulnerability. The girl was a wreak and even though she drove him crazy, he just didn't have the heart to leave her alone in such a state.

 

He sighed and muttered under his breath, “After all the shit I've seen and done, how the hell can I still be such a nice guy?” Of course he knew his motives weren't completely altruistic. As much as he hated to admit it, Faye had become useful to them, and if his stubborn apathy drove her away, he'd never hear the end of it from Jet. Had she truly been as selfish and self-absorbed as Spike complained, Faye would've been kicked to the nearest space station ages ago.

 

As Spike headed back to the table, he noticed she was lighting another cigarette. She still looked bloody morose, and he couldn't help but be tempted to ask about what was eating at her.

 

Her eyes were still slanty and suspicious when he handed her the tea as he sat down across from her. He didn't even complain upon noticing that she'd evidently chain-smoked five for his cigarettes while he'd been ordering her tea.

 

Faye gazed into the amber liquid and frowned. “It's not coffee,” She was still slurring her words slightly.

 

Spike arched his eyebrows at her, “You're as observant as ever. Coffee's not as good for sobering people up as everyone seems to think. Pretty stupid when you think about it anyway. I mean, alcohol dehydrates, coffee dehydrates. Bad plan all around, in my opinion.”

 

Faye gave his another suspicious look, eyes cool and a little mistrustful. He'd be lying if he didn't admit (at least to himself), that he was a bit stung by her expression. It didn't really matter though; in fact, it was better that she didn't get attached….

 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Faye asked.

 

Spike plucked the cigarette from her lips and took a long drag before giving it back to her. He cupped the side of his face with one hand and studied her thoughtfully. “You must have a pretty low opinion of me if you think I'd kick a girl when she's down.”

 

“Oh please,” Faye glared at him as she sipped her tea, “Save the charm for someone who doesn't know you, Spike. What are you really after?”

 

Spike gave her a rather meaningful look and conveyed without words how amusing he thought it was that she would claim to know him so well. Faye was either too drunk or too angry to interpret the expression as such.

 

“What?” she snapped.

 

“Nothing,” Spike sighed softly, “and anyway, why can't I be nice every now and again?”

 

“You're just not,” Faye scowled. Spike almost laughed. She really was sexy as all hell when she was mad. “At least…you're not nice to me,” she added sullenly.

 

He frowned. Well, there goes that. God, I hate it when she sulks. “It's not like you're a ray of sunshine towards me, you know.”

 

Her sulk turned into a damned near childish pout and Spike half-expected her to retort with something along the maturity level of, `you started it.' He felt his patience with her dwindling by the second as he battled with the conflicting desires to either kiss her breathless or throttle the life out of her. The conflict was familiar yet annoying all the same.

 

Much to Spike's surprise, her broody expression melted away. “I know, you're right, and I'm sorry,” Faye admitted.

 

He couldn't have been more surprised in that moment unless Faye suddenly confessed her undying love for him. Not that Spike cared one way or another, just that he thought it would complete Faye's incredible confession. He opened his mouth to speak but Faye cute him off with a withering glare, “don't you dare make me repeat it, Spike.”

 

He chuckled ruefully; maybe Faye did know him better than he'd imagined. “Fair enough.”

 

There was a pregnant pause before she favoured him with a strange, ironic sort of smile, “This is usually where you'd admit that you've been a jerk and apologize as well.”

 

Spike snorted, “Not fucking likely.”

 

Faye sighed heavily but her voice held no real malice, “You're such a prick.”

 

He relaxed as the galaxy returned to normal. She was peeved and he was nonplussed. No amount of tears or generosity could completely erase that dynamic, and Spike found the balance oddly comforting. “I try,” he replied softly as he drew a cigarette from his pack and placed it between his lips.

 

 

Fini.