Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Suicide Is Stainless ❯ What's the Story, Morning Glory? ( Chapter 7 )

7) What's The Story, Morning Glory.

Jet allowed himself to fall back into the couch upon which he was sat. Raising both of his hands up, he clasped them across the top of his head, and stared at Spike. He could not believe what he had just heard.

Over the years, Spike had let slip his fair share of bounties. Fugitives had slipped through his grasp in the unlikeliest of ways, failures that had been followed by the unlikely excuses to match. But this; this wasn't even an excuse.

Spike stood in the doorway of the sitting room, one hand in his pocket, the other hanging at his side. He returned Jet's stare, his face devoid of any discernable emotion as if he was waiting for an infusion the stuff in lecture form.

The sight of Spike's cool façade grated on Jet's nerves. It was as if Spike expected him to just accept what he had been told. To just shrug his shoulders and say. "No problem, Spike. I'd have done the same in your position." But it was a problem, and he wanted somehow to convey that to Spike in a way that would not just go in one ear and out the other, as was the norm.

"Spike, I. . ." Jet began, but the words escaped him.

He closed his eyes, and then opened them again.

Spike was still there; so much for *that* plan.

"Spike. . . you. . . I mean. . ."

It was no good. There seemed to be no reasonable argument against his partner's course of action, simply because the situation as a whole seemed to defy all reason. In lieu of an appropriate counterpoint, Jet settled upon an old staple.

"Spike, you dumb shit."

Swearing might not bring Spike to see sense, but it certainly made Jet feel a little better.

Spike sighed, and entered the room proper.

"I knew you'd react like that." he commented.

"Then damn it, Spike, why did you do it?" Jet replied.

Spike walked across the room to the stairs. He mounted the first of them, then turned and sat down on the third.

"I have my reasons." he said.

Jet looked across at his partner, his eyes wide with surprise and annoyance.

"What the hell kind of an answer is that?" he barked.

Spike clasped his hands behind his head, and reclined as far as his uncomfortable metal perch would allow.

"You'll see." Spike replied. "I just thought it would be best if everyone was here to hear this."

Jet let out a despairing moan, and then let his face fall into his hands.

"Oh shit, Faye." he lamented. "She's gonna lay an egg when she hears this."

Jet looked up at Spike.

"Do you realise what you've done?" he asked scornfully.

Spike's only response was to cast a half-hearted glance at his associate.

"You know what happens when Faye gets pissed off." Jet continued. "All our lives are going to be a living hell."

"She'll get over it." said Spike. "Where is she, anyway?"

Jet placed his elbows against his thighs and allowed his dour face to fall into his hands. Sighing deeply, he replied,

"She's in the shower. She got back over an hour ago and went straight there. Hasn't been out since."

Spike smiled to himself. He loved being right.

"Agh! I don't believe this." Jet growled. "Exactly what part of `catch Stainless Steele' didn't you understand?"

"I understood just fine." Replied Spike. "I just had a better idea."

"You call what you did `a better idea'?"

"Trust me, Jet, you'll understand when I explain."

Jet huffed sceptically.

"I'll remember you said that when I'm plucking Faye's bullets out of your ass with a pair of pliers."

With that, the cry of rusting hinges rang out from beyond the door of the sitting room. Both Spike and Jet glanced at the door. Jet then allowed his face to fall back into his hands.

"Oh shit." he hissed, and then looked to Spike. "Well, I wish could say it's been nice knowing you."

"Thanks." Spike replied ironically.

The sound of waterlogged slippers flopping against the metal floor of the corridor began to carry into the room, along with the barely audible sound of water dripping upon the same.

Spike leaned back and continued his contemplation of the ceiling. He stared into space for a few moments before a thought occurred to him. Looking up, he said,

"She'd better watch where she's going, or she'll trip over. . ."

"Shit!" came a shrill female voice from down the hallway.

This was accompanied by a number of heavy, unsteady footfalls.

"For God's sake, Ed!" the voice shrieked. "Why are you sleeping on the floor?"

This was followed by a loud, sleepy groan.

"Ugh, forget it." The voice snarled, and then the footsteps began anew. "Why me? What the hell did *I* do to deserve this?"

"Looks like you caught her in a good mood, Spike." Jet said.

Spike did not reply. He just reclined himself again, and tried to look unconcerned. Of course this was little more than a false front put up for Jet's benefit. The fact was he didn't like being harped at by Faye any more than his partner.

Several footsteps and a number of profanities later, Faye emerged into the doorway. She was attired in her familiar shower time ensemble of a short, towelling dressing gown, a pair of blue furry slippers, and a turban loosely constructed from a sodden bath towel. The last of these was still obscuring Faye's eyes as she entered the room.

"Christ, Jet, you will not believe the crappy evening I've had." she said as she ruffled the towel around on hair dripping hair.

Jet looked at Spike resignedly.

"I'll bet." he sighed.

Spike returned the glance, and gave a weak shrug.

"Agh, It was awful." Faye continued. "For a start it was freezing. Piloting the Redtail was like trying to fly a goddamn block of ice. . . no thanks to you."

Spike glanced up at Jet. For an instant, he saw what looked like a self-satisfied smirk flash across his colleague's face. But it was gone just as quickly.

Faye blindly made her way across the room, navigating purely by her familiarity with her surroundings. This just served to reinforce Spike's argument that she had been hanging around the place for way to long.

"Then I got stuck wandering around that warehouse complex in sub-zero temperatures looking for those fights." she complained as she dropped down into the chair opposite Jet. "I swear, that partner of yours has all the direction sense of a deaf fruit bat."

This time it was Jet's turn to glance at Spike. His mop-headed associate briefly adopted an expression of chagrin as his bounty hunting abilities were questioned, delivering a sharp prod to his sensitive ego.

Turning back to Faye, Jet asked,

"How were the fights?"

"How the hell should I know?" Faye questioned in returned. "We missed all but one."

"That's too bad." said Jet.

Faye temporarily ceased her hair-drying toil.

"Are you kidding? That was the good news. I can't imagine what it would have been like having to sit there through the whole thing."

"Not impressed, huh?"

"That's an understatement. The arena was a dump, and the floor was covered in blood from some guy who had the nerve to get shot by my seat. And as if that wasn't enough, the place was packed to the rafters with hard-up losers and syndicate boy racers. God, it was like being at a Spike Spiegel convention."

Jet let out a short laugh.

"Spiegel-Con, 2071." he muttered.

Faye set about drying her hair once again.

"Yeah." she concurred.

There was a brief pause.

"So, is he back yet?" she asked.

Faye's tone was deliberately cool, but that sheet of ice was scarcely enough to mask the undertone of concern in her voice.

Jet looked over at Spike, and Spike back at Jet. Someone had to answer the question.

"Not that I care when he gets back, just as long as he has Steele with him." Faye tacked on hastily, saving both men the trouble. "He'd better not come back empty handed, or I'll make him sorry he was ever born."

Spike emitted a low humph.

"Too late for that." he mumbled.

Another pause.

Faye took hold of the front of her hair towel and pushed it up from over her face. Looking to her left, she peered beneath the damp terry veil that hung from her forehead.

"How long have you been sitting there?" she enquired indignantly.

"Too long." Spike replied; an answer that had a much deeper meaning than either of his fellow bounty hunters could know.

Faye began to wrap her hair up in a towel headdress.

"Well, if you didn't want any complaints then you should have warned me about what it would be like." she stated; eyes closed so as to deter any argument.

Spike had, of course, warned her of the pit falls of the pit fights. But then, there was nothing to be gained from arguing, and if there's nothing to be gained, then it's not worth doing.

"I mean, you could have mentioned that Steele's finishing move would be so. . . messy."

"I thought you said you were used to blood and sweat after hanging out with us." Spike observed.

"I can deal with the blood and sweat." Faye replied. "It's just the brains I'm not used to seeing."

Spike emitted an angry grunt. He had walked right into that one.

"I'm just glad it's over." Faye sighed. "That's the last time I try to mix business with pleasure. . . so, where *is* Steele, anyway?"

There was a profound silence.

Faye looked across at Spike with an expression of concerned curiosity.

"You did catch Steele, didn't you?" she said.

Spike did not reply, and instead continued to stare up at the ceiling. He didn't know quite why he was stalling, as he would inevitably have to break the news that had previously upset Jet so.

"You didn't catch him, did you?" Faye said as she came slowly to the realisation that her ordeal hat been in vain.

Jet leaned back into his seat and folded his arms.

"Here it comes." he murmured.

There was another intermission, filled only by the soft patting of the water that dripped from Faye's hair to the ground.

"You bastard." she muttered.

Then, with teeth gritted and brow furrowed angrily, she leapt from her chair, the force of the action causing her turban to vacate her head.

"You total bastard!" she yelled, holding her tightly balled fists straight down at her sides. "I get dragged out into the arctic, robbed of my cash, and covered in some guy's brains, and you're telling me I went through all that for nothing?"

What ensued was a torrent of abuse as Faye seemed to try and puncture Spike's eardrums with a stream of rather pointed nouns and adjectives. Spike looked reluctantly at Faye. Her face was rendered in a hew of bright red, brought on by a combination of the hot shower and her seething rage; a vision of anger completed by the wisps of steam that now rose from her clammy locks. This ear bending had been a calculated risk on Spike's part, though he was certain that this was not going to be the worst of it.

"Damn it, Spike! Are you even listening to me?" Faye barked.

Spike looked away. He hadn't been listening, and that was something that both he and Faye knew. But then, it wasn't as if it was anything he hadn't heard before.

Faye raised her arms then flapped them down at her side in frustration.

"You know what Spike? Forget it. Just, Forget it."

With a loud tut, Faye turned, plucked her head towel from the floor, and made her way to the door.

"Where are you going?" Jet enquired. "You haven't heard the best part."

Faye looked back over her shoulder.

"Oh, you mean it gets better?" she asked sardonically.

Spike gave Jet a dark look. He knew he would have to tell Faye eventually, but his partner's input was still not appreciated.

Faye turned and placed her fists on her hips.

"Well, come on, Spike." she said. "Let's hear it. What else did you do? Exactly how much worse could this possibly be?"

The modicum of eagerness Spike had had to tell of his actions had evaporated along with the moisture from Faye's hair. He sighed loudly, and settled back into the stairs.

Meanwhile, Faye's anger continued to spiral as Spike continued with his policy of evasion.

"Oh, so it's a guessing game now, is it?" she snapped. "Okay, fine."

She then began to stroke her chin with mock pensiveness.

"Let me think. What course of action could be worthy of the solar system's most dumassed bounty hunter? Now let me see. Did you buy him flowers?"

Spike gave a low growl and furrowed his brow. He didn't enjoy being mocked.

"Or did you give him a manicure? You know, there's nothing worse than rusty cuticles. Ooh, or maybe you invited him over for dinner."

Spike glanced across at Faye. Though the look carried little emotion, the message was received loud and clear.

Yet another silence descended over the room, and slowly, Faye's cast of anger melted into one of shock and horror.

"Oh, Spike. No." she uttered. "You didn't."

"Seconds out." muttered Jet.

"You stupid son of a bitch!" Faye bellowed. "Have you completely lost your fucking mind! You were meant to catch him, not feed him. Damn it, Spike, we can't afford this!"

"She's right, Spike." Jet intervened, trying to represent a more reasonable voice; "We're running low on food as it is. We can't afford to be feeding guests, especially not three hundred pound guests."

Spike sat up. He was finally ready to defend himself.

"So we're short on food." he said. "It's not like that's anything new. And besides, if everything goes off as planned we shouldn't have to worry about food for a while."

"And what if it doesn't go off as planned?" Faye argued. "Then we'll be stuck on Earth with no money, no fuel *and* no food. Then what do we do, Spike? Starve to death?"

A sleepy fourth voice came from the doorway.

"Potty mouth Faye-Faye can eat soap for dinner."

"Oh great." Faye groaned at Ed's arrival. "That's just what I need."

Spike took this opportunity to speak.

"Well maybe if you'd give me a chance to explain. . ."

"No, Spike." Faye slapped him down. "I don't want to hear it. I can feel my self getting stupider just standing here listening to you."

Faye then turned and headed for the door once more.

"Where are you going?" Spike asked; the tarnishes in his usually smooth exterior beginning to show.

"I am going to get dressed, clean the crap out of my gun, and go stand by the door and wait for Steele so I can take the bounty myself. And if any of you think you are thinking of taking a cut then you can kiss my well-proportioned ass."

"Hey, wait a minute!" Spike snapped.

A single finger that Faye flashed over her shoulder was all that met his protest.

"Now hold on just a minute, Faye." Jet said just as Faye was about to barge past the still semi-conscious Edward. "I think we should hear Spike out."

Faye stopped and threw a wrathful look over her shoulder.

"Why the hell should I?" she snarled.

"Look, it can't hurt to just hear what he has to say." Jet argued, arms folded and eyes closed. "You never know, he may actually have had a good idea for once."

Faye frowned sceptically, but Jet continued nonetheless.

"But, if Spike's idea is stupid, and you still want to shoot him, then you have my blessing."

Spike grumbled quietly to himself. Sometimes having Jet's support was something of a mixed blessing.

"Fine." Faye said.

She then marched back into the room and dropped herself down into the chair, facing Spike.

"Maybe I need a good laugh right now. So, come on Spike. Out with it. What's this fantastic scheme?"

Standing up and leaning against the banister of the stairs, Spike took centre stage.

"Are any of you familiar with a guy named Victor Yukawa?" he asked.

"No, Spike." Replied Faye. "Regale us."

Spike's eyes narrowed at the facetious sound of Faye's voice, and looked to Jet for a more sympathetic ear.

"He was a fight promoter back on Mars, the biggest in the business." he continued.

Jet leaned forwards and peered up at Spike.

"So what's that got to do with us?" he asked.

"Yukawa was Steele's manager when he was still with the Red Dragons." said Spike. "He arranged all of his fights and other affairs. The guy virtually ran Steele's life for him. All Steele had to do was go out into the ring and do what he did best."

"Is there a point to this little anecdote, or are you just trying to bore me to death?" Faye sniped.

"Well maybe if you'd shut up for a minute I'd be able to *get* to the point, Faye."

"I don't have to sit here and listen to your mindless drivel, Spike. There are better things I could be doing with my time."

"Don't let me stop you."

It was at this point that Jet stepped in.

"Quit it, you two!" he barked. "You're being obnoxious. Faye, shut up and listen. Spike, get to the point."

Spike and Faye glared darkly at one another, but eventually deferred to Jet's authoritative tone.

"When I was talking to Steele," Spike went on. "He said that some of the guys he used to work with on Mars were going to be at his retirement fight. I think there's a good chance that Yukawa will be the guest of honour."

"So what are you suggesting." Asked Jet.

"I'm suggesting that we use this opportunity to get close to Steele and get access to the event. Then, we nail Yukawa. So, what do you think?"

Jet looked away introspectively as he digested Spike's idea.

Faye, on the other hand, already had her answer.

"I think that mushroom cloud you call a hair cut must extend all the way inside your head as well," she said. "Because that plan is hair-brained even by your standards."

"I don't see you coming up with any plans to make money." Spike retorted.

"That's because we already had a perfectly good plan to make money which you just screwed up. If it wasn't for you we'd be off this dump and on our way to somewhere civilised by now."

"It's an interesting idea, Spike." Jet said, before the old argument could re-ignite. "But what makes you think this Yukawa is worth any more than all those other pit-fight bounty heads?"

"Because pit-fight promoting was just a hobby to him." said Spike. "It was something he did in his spare time between drug trading, gun running and racketeering."

Jet raised his eyebrows as some real interest began to set in.

"I see. Any idea of the bounty?"

"No." Spike replied. "That's where Ed comes in."

Spike looked to the young hacker who was still stood in the doorway, swaying unsteadily from side to side.

Realising that her name had been cited, Ed grinned broadly and began to amble across the room in her usual, ungainly manner.

"Job for Edward, job for Edward, job for Edward." she repeated as she drifted around the sofa to where her computer resided.

She then dropped down cross-legged onto the floor, picked up the goggles that lay at Tomato's side, and pulled them on over her head. Raising her arms, she waved her fingers as if employing some wizardry other than the purely technical, and set about typing frantically on the keypad.

"Well I don't care how much there is on Yukawa's head." Faye stated as she stood up out of her seat. "This whole sorry episode has left a bad taste in my mouth. The sooner we get Steele down to the station and pick up that half-million, the better."

"You're not even staying to hear the numbers?" Jet said into Faye's back.

"Nope. I'm going to get some sleep, then I'm going to. . ."

"Fifteen million." Ed said, cutting Faye off mid-sentence.

This caused the heads of all three bounty hunters to turn.

"The kid works fast." Spike remarked.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" asked Faye.

"Fifteen million Woolongs, on the button." Ed replied.

Spike turned to Faye, and smiled knowingly.

"So how about it, Faye?" he said. "Still want to take in Steele?"

Faye pouted. She was still sceptical about Spike's plan, but fifteen million Woolongs was a lot of money. As always, it seemed that her avarice was about to pull rank on her common sense. This wouldn't have been so bad had it not meant admitting defeat to Spike's argument.

"I don't know." she began, fighting her greed to the last. "This whole plan just seems too stupid to work. I mean, we're going to have five hundred thousand Woolongs just sitting there, staring at us, drinking our beer and eating our bad food."

This statement was punctuated by a grunt of protest from Jet, who had taken exception to this attack on his culinary skills. Faye continued,

"Why shouldn't we just cut our losses and take Steele while we have the chance?"

"Usually I'd be the first to say go for the sensible option." said Jet. "But fifteen million Woolongs is a lot of money. It can't hurt to give it a try, and if things don't seem to be going as planned, then we collect the bounty on Steele instead."

"Yeah, Faye." Spike added. "And just think, your cut alone would be worth ten of Steele. That's a lot of overpriced Jovian fashion."

Suddenly Ed's goggled head popped over the back of the sofa.

"Ed wants a cut." she cried.

"You'll get your allowance and like it." Jet replied gruffly.

Ed whined disappointedly, and sank back down behind the couch.

"Well?" Spike said, goading Faye towards a decision.

Faye sighed in resignation.

"Alright." she said. "I'll play along. But the minute things look like they're not going the way they're supposed to. . ."

"Yeah, we know." Jet interrupted, reluctant to hear any more of Faye's posturing.

"So are we all agreed?" Spike asked, looking at Jet.

"Yeah, we're agreed." his partner replied. "But this operation is your responsibility. If things go wrong, then it's on your head."

Spike gave a tired smile.

"Understood. He'll be here at eight."

"I suppose I should go and get some sleep." Faye sighed. "But you just remember, Spike, I'm doing this under protest. If I get messed around again I'm taking it out of your hide."

Spike rolled his eyes, and looked across at Faye. She was still complaining even now that the plan had been agreed. He peered down at her flatly from the stairs for some seconds before speaking.

"Faye."

"What?"

"You've still got some brains in your hair."

At first Faye's expression was unchanged as her mind processed what had been said. Spike sensed that at some level she knew he was bluffing, but the question was whether she would be willing to take that risk.

Slowly, Faye's mouth broadened into a grimace of horror. In an instant she turned, and scampered out of the room and down the corridor, doubtless headed for the shower once again.

Spike smiled.

"My work here is done."

He then began to descend the few stairs to the floor, clasping his hands behind his head as he went.

"You gonna get some sleep?" Jet asked of his partner.

Spike yawned loudly, then replied,

"Yeah."

Jet allowed Spike to get halfway out the door before speaking again.

"Hey, Spike."

"Yeah."

"Is everything alright?"

Spike stooped, and looked back over his shoulder.

"How do you mean?"

"I just get the feeling that something is bothering you about this whole Steele thing. I can tell these things about you, you know."

Spike smiled.

"No, you can't."

He then crossed the threshold of the room and disappeared down the hallway.