Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Got You ❯ Something for the Girl with Everything ( Chapter 1 )

I do not own the characters of Cowboy Bebop. They are the property of Sunrise, Bones, and Bandai Visual (2001). They make the money, not me. Nor can I take credit for most of my chapter headings- they are the product of their authors. Sigh.

And now….

On with the show!

 

Chapter 1: Something for the Girl with Everything (Collider)

 

The guy had been an easy enough bounty head. All you needed was a half decent nose. How one man could smell so foul was beyond Faye. It was a cross between re-hydrated trash, rancid socks and rot. A scowl marred her face as she rinsed, I bet Spike purposely gave me Sir Stinky! She huffed while re-sudsing. Ergh! It just won't wash off!! Her face scrunched in thought as her scrubbing intensified, Maybe I need tomato juice or somethin'?

 

“Yo. You get him?” Jet's voice drifted from behind a snarled, wire mass.

“Yup.” He slid down the side of his rust hued ship. “Wasn't too hard. Snuck up behind him while he was trying a lame money card on a leash trick… oomph! Ed! Not now!” How that kid could sneak up and latch onto him unawares was a mystery, an annoying mystery but one none the less. He shook his weighted leg in irritation.

“Did Spike-person remember to bring Ed back souvenirs?”

“Uhh…” he dug through his pockets, “Yeah, Ed, actually I did.”

“What!?” Jet was wary. Spike had been off since he became mobile, again, but to bring Ed a treat? Near death experience or not, the lanky bounty hunter did not buy gifts. Not unless… there was an ulterior motive.

“Really!?! What did Spike bring for Edward? What? WHAT!?” Her eyes widened as her voice rose. Jet immediately returned to his job deciding ignorance the only road to bliss. “Ooooo. Does Ed eat them?”

“No. I think they'll make you sick,” he chuckled quietly then leaned towards the vibrating child and lowered his voice, accompanied by a flicker of smug, “Why don't you use them to decorate Faye's room?”

Her jaw unhinged, “Spike is a genius.” With that, the gangly, red-head was off to “trim” her beloved Faye-Faye's sanctuary.

The sound of retreating feet and mischievous giggles brought Jet out of his wiring cocoon, “Whoa! That's a bad idea Spike-o. No pun intended, but aren't you opening a can of worms pullin' this prank?”

“Meh,” accompanied by a little shrug, Spike slouched off to reclaim the yellow couch, whistling a peculiarly happy tune. Jet was torn; this activity was destined to blow out of proportion, especially when Faye retaliated, but Spike appeared pleased and the poor guy could use a distraction. He sighed, deciding that perhaps this was for the best, Faye's tough, she can take one for the team… he rubbed his head, I hope.

 

Spike didn't know why he just had a need to bother someone. Specifically: Faye. He frowned as he sank into the couch cushions. She hadn't been easily riled since he revived from tying up loose ends. In some ways, it was like she didn't care; forcing his hand to find more juvenile means to irk her. So far, his attempts had been half-assed. This one promised a world of entertainment- he'd set it up well, with little effort and no expense.

His plan to `refurbish' her room was based on the assurance Faye would be in a foul, nasty mood after dealing with Jongen. It was perfect. Already skittish over the man's peculiar collection- which was bound to attract all kinds of unpleasant, multi-legged interest- she'd be a paranoid, twitchy mess. He grinned, it wasn't his fault she didn't read the whole bio the final line: “Abnormal attachment to strangely shaped tubers.” If the truth were told, she never saw that part. It came on the second page- which he accidentally tossed out, oops. She's only interested in the price anyway. A grin slashed his face, Not that Jongen's worth anything.

The delusional rhizome lover seemed right up her alley. He was relatively harmless, just a garden variety peeping tom. His cheap bounty was proof of that. Jess Acerbo, on the other hand, was a twisted trickster with a sadistic streak and a sizeable reward to encourage his capture. He enjoyed using silly pranks to lure unsuspecting victims closer, followed by thorough beatings and, occasionally, the removal of their valuables or their lives. It depended on his mood. Spike hadn't let on, but he was certain Jess had bruised a rib or two. He settled into his well maintained couch groove, a twinge ripping up his side. His breath caught, “Ungh… that nasty little fucker and his cheap ass silver knuckles…”

 

“AIEEEEEEEEEEEE! What the hell is that! Someone with shoes squish it, SQUISH IT!!” The scream was immediately followed by scrambling feet. To be perceived innocently oblivious Spike settled deeper into the couch and began to softly snore, the epitome of blank nonchalance. “Holy shit! It's following me. Spike! SPIKE!” Poor Faye was too busy scrambling down the stairs, up the couch and over him, to notice that Ein was chasing her with an insect shadow.

“Oof! Dammit Faye!” Spike eased his bruised torso from a well placed heel. She just shuddered and pointed to a black spot behind the corgi as she scooted further away. Hmmm… Ed's better than I thought. He quickly schooled his features portraying perplexed annoyance, rather than unadulterated glee. “What?!” again a shaky finger pointed behind the dog. “That? THAT is what you're screeching like a banshee in heat for?”

“Huh. I'm sure you're speaking from personal experience.” He frowned. She shuddered, forgetting the barb, as the speck inched closer, “It's following me. Maybe it's possessed or thinks my body would make an excellent hive,” Spike snorted. Faye ignored him and continued her panicky rant, “Maybe… maybe… I still have Jongen residue on me. That collection of his was in all states of decay. Some of it was even moving…” This initiated a full body quake, and exaggerated sniffing around her towel. Spike nearly bit through his cheek to remain externally placid.

He took a few experimental sniffs her direction. Huh, she smells like oranges. He feigned repulsion, “Ergh. You may be right Faye. I'll kill it, but get away!” He pulled a look of pure nausea and turned. Nudging her with his foot, “I don't think you got all the smell off." He grinned having just caught Faye's slack-jawed, paling face. As soon as Spike was between her and the offending arthropod, she fled to the recesses of the bathroom; a reverberating 'THUNK' punctuating the hasty departure. He grinned and grumbled, “Wow Ed, pretty slick.”

“Edward wanted to decorate Ein too!” A disembodied voice drifted from the direction of Faye's room. Curiosity fueled by the assurance Faye would be another half-hour, he followed it. The room was dark. Spike could sense Ed waiting impatiently. “Turn on the light! Ed wants you to see her masterpiece.” There was a flurry of movement as Spike flipped the switch. Illuminating Ed, unable to hold her excitement, bouncing to and fro like a broken gyroscope, she directed his attention to the walls. Bugs were everywhere. It was an exterminator's wet dream. Streamers of electrical tape, resembling fly paper, dangled lazily from the ceiling, various winged bodies attached; hordes of crawlers every size, shape and color littered the flat surfaces.

“Wow, Ed. Not a single one wasted. It looks… ehh…thorough.”

“Do you think Faye-Faye will like it? Ed put the best, most leggy ones in her bed.”

“What do you mean `in her bed'?”

“Under her pillow and covers, silly. That way, Faye-Faye can snuggle with her new friends like Ed spoons Ein-doggy. Ooooo she will be so happy. Edward thinks she will scream louder than she did for Ein's friend.” She pulled an energized breath, “The warm squishies! WARM SQUISHIES!!” she squealed spinning around her accomplishment, “Now Faye-Faye won't be lonely or feel left out, 'cause Ed gave her plastic, leggy friends! YAY!!” With the air of an opera diva Ed began to sing, “Friends with multi-eyeballs and cute little wingies, these will be Faye-Faye's favorite thingies!” With a flourish she escaped the confines of the room to scurry off to parts unknown. Her homage to The Sound of Music floating back, “…Fake little spiders all wrapped up in tape. Oh how Faye-Faye will gape…” Spike shrugged, turned off the light and returned to his previously supine state.

 

“Ed. ED! I know you're out there, hand me the electrical tape… EDWARD!”

“But there isn't any more tape, Ed used it all.”

“Ugh… Ed, what did you use it for?”

“To stick decorations on the ceiling in Faye-Faye's room, they look like…”

“Ed, that is not what that tape is for,” he hated lecturing her. It always failed- miserably. In fact, most of his lectures were wasted air. Don't know why I bother, damn ape people.

“But the last time Ed stuck something up, Spike told Edward to use tape.”

“That's because you super-glued Ein's dog tags to the fridge!! We had to use ALL Faye's nail-polish remover and Spike broke two of my screwdrivers!” Not to mention the strange dent and star shaped scratches from Spike trying to pry the inoculatory proof off the door. Why he refuses to listen to Faye is beyond me. He snorted, Occasionally, she gets it right.

“Hmmm… Faye-Faye said the fridge is a great place to store important notes and Spike person said Woof-woof Ein's license was very, VERY important.” Jet gave a sigh in exasperation.

“She meant… He… That… Ergh. Yes, Ed. Your logic is impeccable. Hand me the multi-meter.” He couldn't argue, technically she hadn't broken any rules. In fact, she had done EXACTLY what his idiot partners had instructed.

“Why is Papa Jet buried in Bebop guts?”

“General repairs.” It had taken him all day to find and mend the various broken and failing wires. His method had been methodical and therapeutic. He would open the panel, check each wire and mark (with tape) those needing replacement, then move to the next, keeping an itinerary of wire type and location. It had been a time consuming, quiet and relatively pleasant way to spend his day- but with Ed twitching like a frog on crack, Spike planning God knew what for Faye, and Faye's inevitable tirade his peace was quickly evaporating.

“Your comm is beeping.” She grabbed the device, “You have a friend who wishes to reach out and touch you.” Her sing-song announcement was answered with his hand emerging from the tangle of colorful wires. He gave an impatient shake, “Hand it here,” Glancing at the unfinished work he scowled, Well I guess this panel will have to wait.

“Jet, good to hear you're keeping that heap runnin'.”

“Bob,” Jet rubbed his eyes, “get to the point.”

“Well, I just got news on that new bounty you asked about…” He snorted, “Seems perfect for you.” Jet raised an inquisitive brow. “Your mark likes the college crowd. Hits clubs popular with his preferred clientele, most notably those favored by Martian students.”

“How much, Bob?”

“175 mil. Another 25 if you bring in Boris too.”

“Hmmm… Why'd the bounty go up?”

He flipped the page to his skin mag, “The bounty only popped up 'cause one of his more distinguished customers was some Venus politician's brat. Kid's girl got a hold of a dose of somethin' nasty at a kegger the night before on Europa. She gave it to Junior, who decided to take it right before some swanky party for Pops. Guess he wanted to loosen up.” Bob paused to study another picture, “Ran through the crowd, naked, screamin', `The gnomes are uprising, the gnomes are uprising.'” Bob chuckled briefly as he flipped pages. “Ran straight through a window and preformed a perfect swan dive into concrete fifty stories down.”

Jet scowled, “Perfect?”

“Yup.” Bob nodded, “Very little splash.” He grinned, “Durin' the autopsy they found one of the perp's calling cards and a partially dissolved pill. Kid's dad wants their heads. My money is he's planning to use his boy's death to increase votes.”

Jet groaned, “Another anti-drug stance?”

“Yup. Doesn't want the media to find out his wonderful baby boy was a drug fiend, by choice. He's screaming that his son was tricked into partaking. Total, bullshit. How he's goin' to hide the fact his kid had some interesting tastes is beyond me, considering the kid refused to keep his indiscretions private.” Bob shrugged.

“Huh. Glad I'm not a Venus voter.” Jet frowned, his forehead scrunching in thought, “Calling card?”

“Idiot actually passes out a business card for orders.” Bob's head shook, “You have to be `invited' personally by one of his higher level stooges, a profitable customer or the creep himself. From what we can gather, he only recruits women personally. The card is relatively inconspicuous. Looks like someone's digits and a name or place. Shit, half the men at any one club pass `em out to hook-up. It's a bitch to track.”

“Huh.” Jet had the sinking suspicion he was going to have to use the alternative resources he had available to catch this bounty head. Faye would be furious; she hadn't had to play bait since Spike came to.

A rotation of the current page, a half mumbled, “My sentiments exactly.” Bob slowly turned the magazine he was perusing, for a more intimate angle, “Wooo-Damn. Err… I don't have much else; he's got some hidden partners. We think one is the main front man but the guy's never been caught. No ID, nothin'.” Bob frowned, flipping to the highly desired center page. His brows rose, his chair squeaking as he shifted, “I'll send what I got.”

“Thanks Bob.” The only response given before silence was a small grunt.