Authoress Notes: I'd like to point out that this is my first Cowboy Bebop fic and I have only seen the first nine episodes. But the ending is already spoiled for me and I'm currently reading up on what happens in the remainder of the twenty-six episode long series. Diana Sills is my character, and is nothing more than friends with Spike. Yes, I know about Julia, therefore, no couplings in this fic, just minor Julia/Spike mentioning.

This fic is going to be either two or three parts long, depending on how long each part I write is.

Now, with the stupid factors out of the way-

Chibi Tomoyo: Wait! You have to do the disclaimer!

Eh-hem. Does the term 'All rights reserved' vied at the bottom of this message mean anything to you?

Chibi Tomoyo: ::sweatdrop::

And now, on with the fic!

All rights reserved.

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Blood Red Jazz

Summary: While on a bounty hunt, Spike runs into an old friend, Diana 'Red' Sills. At the same time, a bounty for the thief of a deadly virus pops up. What is Red's connection with this and how will it turn out in the end?

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Blood Red Jazz (Part I)

A soft click rang throughout the lab room. In the darkened room, a door swung open carefully. Into the room, a soundless intruder made its way in, in search of one item. Turning its gaze to a table, it carefully walked over to it, searching the cluttered area. Shifting through the papers, it found nothing. Growling under its breath, it continued to search the room.

Suddenly, it froze. Very slowly, it turned to face a security camera staring right down at it. There was a series of loud clicks as the camera took shots of the intruder. Then, an alarm went off.

***

The room was dimly lit with soft red lights; the air thick from the smokes, a slight hint of alcohol gave it a calming scent. There were soft murmuring and clinking of glasses going about, the place crowded. Leaning against a wall, arms crossed and eyes closed, Jet Black let the music in the background calm his mind. The atmosphere of the place had a comforting feeling to it. A soft chuckle reached his ears.

"I haven't seen you this relaxed in awhile." the voice joked. Jet snorted.

"Have you got a lock on him?" he questioned, ignoring his partner's comment. Smirking, Spike turned his attention back to the crowd, peering through his blue glasses in search of their bounty. The data within it analyzed every single person his gaze landed on.

"Not yet," he answered with a sigh. Then, standing up, he put his hands in his pockets. "I'm going to get closer to the stage, maybe I'll find him there."

"All right, just don't get lost," Jet kidded. "And no talking to strangers either."

"Yes, mother," Spike joked, walking away. Making his way through the crowd, Spike searched about. His gaze fell upon a small table near the front of the stage. There was a soft blipping sound, signaling a match. At the table was tall man with slick black hair pulled into a loose ponytail and small gold-rimmed glasses over his gray eyes. His right hand was closed around a shot glass, eyes on the stage. He was dressed in black slacks and a black vest with a blue shirt underneath. From where Spike was standing, he noticed the handle of a pistol sticking out from beneath the vest. Smirking, he slowly made his way over, his hand inching towards his own gun. As he did, he looked up at the stage. Just feet away from the man, he froze.

On the stage stood a young woman with soft blue hair held up with a clip in a bun. Dressed in tight-fitting white pants, white heeled boots not unlike Faye's and violet tank top, the soft red light seemed to give her a chilling aura-like feeling. Her eyes were closed and her small mouth on the mouthpiece, she was playing a soft jazz tune on the alto saxophone. Spike stared, eyes widening in recognition.

"No way...Red?" Where the gray-eyed man was sitting, he heard Spike. Turning to him, his eyes flickered to the gun. Spike looked over at him and gave a goofy-smile. The man leapt to his feet drawing his gun. The chair flew back, knocking into a table to the side of them.

"Hey, bastard, watch it!" growled a chubby-looking, bald man. But the gray-eyed man paid no attention to him, pointing his gun at Spike.

"You're a bounty hunter, aren't ya?" he growled.

"Well, I could be. That would explain why I have my gun pointed at you," Spike said with a grin. "Now, why don't you come along quietly Black Jack and I won't have to shoot you and waste that bounty on your head." Black Jack scowled at him. Then, he pointed his gun to the ceiling and shot three rounds. Immediately shouts and screams rang through the air. The woman stopped playing her sax and stared. Spike fired his gun at Black jack, but he managed to dodge it, yet barely. He made a run for it. "So you wanna play, eh?" Spike said, chasing after him.

Rushing through the flying doors, Spike made a sharp turn down the hall, sliding a bit on the slick floor. He watched as Black Jack pushed his way through a small group of people coming towards them and out the back door. Spike wasn't far behind.

"Where does this guy think he's going?" wondered Spike as Black Jack came up to a dead end. Looking over at him, Black Jack whirled about and pointed his gun at Spike. Spike faltered as he saw the guy's eyes. The pupil's were completely gone, and the whites almost completely gone because of the blood veins. What startled him even more was the fact that tiny droplets of blood slid down the side of his head.

"They...they won't get me!" Black Jack wheezed, as though he had just had the wind knocked out of him. He stared at Spike with his wild eyes, preparing to fire.

"Duck Spike!" came a shot form behind. Not turning around, Spike did as was told. He watched as six holes suddenly appeared in Black Jack, blood falling from the wounds. The man's hands twitched, the gun falling. Then, as his eyes rolled into the back of his head, he collapsed. Dead. Spike frowned, now ticked off. Whirling about, he shouted at the person. "Jeez, what the hells wrong with you?! Now I can't collect the bounty now that he's dead!"

"I thought you'd be glad to have lived Spike," said the silk-like voice. Then, stepping forward, Spike stared once more. The woman from on stage was standing, a smoking gun in her hand. She smiled at him.

"Red...is that really you?" he gasped, his arms dropping back to his sides, eyes wide.

"Who else?" she asked with a soft giggle. Spike continued to stare, before grinning and putting his hands behind his hand, strolling over to her.

"Damn, I haven't seen you in years!" he commented with a laugh.

"I see you still have the same puffy-hair as usual," chuckled Red, ruffling his hair.

"Hey, don't touch the hair," he joked, knocking her hand away playfully. She just rolled her eyes, giggling. "So, what are you going here in this club? Last time I heard, you were working in a lab of some sort." Red smiled at him.

"Well, yeah. I'm kinda glad you found this man, actually." Spike looked over his shoulders at the dead man.

"What the heck was wrong with him anyway?"

"That guy was a test subject in a lab I was working in," she commented softly. His head snapped quickly back at her, shocked.

"They tested on that guy?" She nodded, sighing heavily.

"Spike! Yo Spike!" Both of them turned to see Jet running through the door and over to them. "What the hell happened?" He looked at Red, down at the dead Black Jack and then to Spike. He groaned, covering his face. "There goes the bounty," he muttered. Spike chuckled nervously, while Red simply smiled.

"I saved your buddies life ya know," she commented. "If that guy there got near him, he would have been infected."

"With what? And who are you?"

"Just an old friend of Spike's. I better get going," with a small wave, she turned around and headed for the door. As her hand reached the knob, she looked back over at them. "Oh, and Spike, if there's anyway I can make up for killing the guy on ya, lemme know, kay? I feel kinda bad."

"Thanks Red!" said Spike, giving a small wave, a hand still behind his head. With a grin, she left. Jet looked at Spike with a strange look across his face.

"Why do you call her 'Red'? She isn't a red-head."

"You can say it's an inside-joke," answered Spike, letting his arms drop. "We better get going before the police get here."

***

"Well, it's about time you guys got back," said Faye as she looked up from ehr magazine as the two came in. Sitting up, she looked at them through narrowed eyes. "So, did you guys get the bounty."

"No, he was shot dead by Spike's girlfriend here."

"Jet, she ain't my girlfriend! Besides, you wouldn't have gotten a cut of it," Spike added to Faye. Faye huffed, crossed her arms. But then her eyes flashed. "So, whose this girlfriend fo yours?"

"For the last time, Red ain't my girlfriend!" Spike shouted. "Sheesh! What do I have to do get it through your heads?" From the staircase, Ed poked her head in, looking confused.

"Ed wants to know why everyone is shouting?" she said, eyes blinking innocently. Faye snickered.

"It's because Spike's in denial about his girlfriend." Ed blinked.

"Spikey has a girlfriend?" Suddenly, Faye found Spike's gun pointed to her head.

"Get. It. Through. Your. Head," he growled. "Red ain't my girlfriend." Faye gulped, freezing.

"Okay," she squeaked. He pulled the gun and she let out a sigh of relief. Chuckling, Jet seated himself on the couch and flicked on the screen. Leaning back, he watched as 'Big Shots' flashed on.

"Howdy amigos!" the black man said with the wave. Beside him the blonde giggled. The camera closed in on him. "Well, if you haven't heard, the bounty on ol' Black Jack has been withdrew."

"Oh? How come?" the blonde cowgirl asked.

"Well, they found him full o' holes outside a club," the man answered, with a slight chuckle. "But don't worry all you bounty hunters out there! Here's a new one for you!" On the screen flashed a mug shot of guy with roughly cut red hair with black tips. His eyes were sharp blue. Under the two images was the name 'James Duel'. "This guy here is wanted for breaking into the tech labs of Mars, what he stole is confidential information." Spike came over and leaned over the edge and watched.

"And how much is this man's bounty?" asked the girl.

"Well amigos, he's worth a whopping one hundred-million woolong!" Spike, Faye and Jet's jaws dropped. "I guess the police want him bad!"

"I wonder what he stole?" gasped the woman.

"Well, whatever it is," said Spike, "it makes him worth one mil." Jet whistled loudly.

"Damn, if we grab this guy, we'll be all set for awhile." A Cheshire cat smile crossed Faye's face as she stood up.

"Well then, I'll go and get him!" she said. With a wave, she was out.

"What are you going to do Spike?" questioned Jet, looking up at his partner. Spike smirked as he leaned over and began to type in something on the keyboard.

"I think I'm gonna take Red up on that offer of hers."

"Do you even know her number?" asked Jet.

"I know her well enough to know where she'd be staying at," he said with a smirk. The screen, Red appeared, slightly surprised.

"Well, hey there Spike!" She waved.

"Hey Red. Listen, remember that offer you made me a couple of hours ago?"

"Yeah..."

"What can you tell me about the tech labs on Mars? I'm sure you should know something about them, being a scientist and all." Red cocked an eyebrow.

"Why are you asking?"

"Oh, no reason." He smiled. "So, what can you tell me?"

"Nothing." He stared.

"WHAT!? What do you mean nothing? Did you even work up there?"

"Yep."

"Then why not!?"

"Give me a good reason to tell you." Spike hung his hea,d grumbling.

"This' just like you Red. Don't torture me like this!"

"Why do you want to know?" Jet pushed Spike away.

"There's a bounty up on a guy named James Duel. They got one hundred million woolongs on him, for stealing something from the labs up in Mars."

"Now can you tell us?" Spike interrupted, appearing once more. Red's eyes widened slightly and she bit her bottom lip.

"The labs on Mars? James Duel?"

"C'mon Diana," said Spike, using her real name. "Besides, you promised."

"I don't know anything about it Spike. I quit my job at the labs two days ago."

"Are you kidding me!?" She shook her head.

"No Spike, sorry."

"So then, now what are you doing?" demanded Spike.

"I'm running a small music shop a few blocks away form that club I played at a few hours ago." Suddenly, she let out a huge yawn. "Listen, it's getting late. I'll talk to ya in the morning, kay?" Grumbling, Spike nodded. "Night." The screen flicked off. Jet leaned back, arms crossed once more, while Spike stood there, hands in his pockets, still grumbling.

"Well, your girlfriend proved quite useful."

"She's not my girlfriend!"

***