Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Got You ❯ Chapter 2

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….

Let the mayhem begin!

 

Chapter 2: Shitstorm (Jed Davis)

 

“FOOD!” Jet bellowed from the kitchen. He was through playing the `go tell' game. It only ended in arguments, headache and/or fisticuffs. This way he was able to avoid three-fourths of the issues that followed. The fisticuffs, on the other hand, were only sporadic and going to happen regardless. As long as they don't kill each other, I don't care, was his continual justification for the lack of concern over the childish antics of the other two adults. Spike was the first in the kitchen, closely followed by Ed and Ein. Jet scowled over his Ramen cup, “Where's Faye?”

“Probably still scrubbin' Jongen off.” Jet paused, mid bite. Positive he'd seen a bit of a smirk cross Spike's face before he began shoveling noodles.

“Was he really that bad?” He glanced at Spike, over his own bowl.

“You do realize his hobby?” Spike chucked, “She said some of his pieces were moving.”

With a grunt Jet gave a small nod in greeting, before he returned his focus to his meal.

“He was awful, Jet. Guy's place smelled like…like…” Faye absently pulled at the lid to her cup of noodles.

“Feet?” Ed chirped.

“No,” Faye scrunched her brows trying to decide on the most appropriate description, mouthful of noodles half way to its final destination.

“Ass?” Spike shared to keep the game progressing. He started on his second serving.

“Worse,” Faye looked ill trying to recall the perfect adjective for the odor that oozed from the man. She returned the mouthful to her cup, Jet still staring. What the hell she done to herself?! She looked rubbed raw. Her skin was incredibly red, burned almost, like she'd gone after herself with lye. Her hair hung in soggy tendrils down the side of her face.

“Good grief, Faye what have you been doing since you returned?!”

Spike snorted, “She's been trying to scrub off Jongen's stench.” He took a tentative whiff in her direction, pretending to lose his appetite, he was finished anyway. “Oh shit, Faye.”

“What? WHAT!?!” With eyes bulging she began sniffing her arms.

“I should have picked up on it before. That stink it's…” he just had to wait for it. She was currently stuffing her nose down her oversized T-shirt, dinner forgotten.

“What Spike?”

Ahh… the beginning of a whine. “Well, I don't know how to tell you this Faye…” she was now examining her feet, while she ran her tongue over her teeth.

“What?!”

He chuckled internally, enjoying her antics, "I think, I think it's you. Like it absorbed into your skin. Did you touch him or sit in one of his treasures? Some skin on skin contact? What did you do so he'd go willingly? Give him a sample to let his guard down?" Her features darkened, he was certain he had crossed a line implying what he had, but couldn't help it. "Show him there were things more tantalizing than rudely shaped organics? That's gross Faye, you know the kind of shit that guy was into," Spike pulled a face along with the other two adults. Sheepishly, he shrugged, "Err..."

Faye glowered, cutting him off. "Flirt? Sample? I may not look it but I do have my standards."

"Really? Based on what? Wallet size? The larger the billfold, the lower your inhibitions?"

Faye's eyes narrowed, but she kept her tongue in check, deciding to avoid another pissing match. She shrugged, altering her expression to haughty confidence, "If you must know I took him down quickly. No mess. No fuss. I didn't even get much of his," grimace and shudder, "collection on me. In fact, I snuck behind him, cuffed his hands while he was,” another face, “eh… preoccupied and drug him out of the room he was camped in." Spike didn't buy it.

"You took him out while he was busy with his collection?!" Jet, though disgusted, was mildly surprised Faye would sacrifice cleanliness, comfort and mental health to complete a take-down by means of least resistance. Then he realized, She's editing.

Spike was first to call her on it, "Collection huh? What aren't you sharing?" He smirked when she visibly twitched.

She scratched her head, "It made the most sense. It wasn't like he was paying any attention to what was going on around him." She grimaced and began rubbing her arms, shaking her head. "No one should see a guy doing that in front of food...” she shot a nervous glance towards Ed.

“Doing what, Faye-Faye?” Ed was in wide eyed awe.

“Er... you know…" She flapped her hand. Both men stared agog. Spike momentarily felt sorry for not warning her. Jet felt his appetite disappear.

"Faye-Faye, you came in all covered in yuck. You were squishy, wet and stinky.” She had seen Faye's ignominious return, covered head to toe in greenish-brown sludge. Faye looked ill, her features shading to the color of sick. Helping herself to the forgotten dinners, Ed watched the rest of the drama unfold.

Spike grinned, “Thought you didn't get much on you?”

"Yeah, he, uhh... slipped when I was dragging him out and I bumped my head in the fall. After the stars left, I found he'd wiggled away and was running, still cuffed." She groaned, remembering what her hand had slid through to break her fall, and touched her forehead. The rest of the crew could make out a slight bruise bleeding into hairline. "I didn't know his house butted against some kind of farm. He ran there for cover." She gave a tiny shiver, “I… I think some of his collection came from there.” Jet knew where this discussion was leading and chuckled softly. He'd also seen Faye's return. Spike hearing the out of place noise leaned forward. Ed happily slurped a noodle. Both men returned their attention to Faye, "He ducked behind some kind of tank," eyebrows scrunching at the memory, "Bastard tackled me," she shrugged, schooling her features, "I got dirty. Really dirty. Kicked his ass and collected his bounty." There was no way she was going to relive that particular take-down in front of Spike. Apprehending Jongen had been miserable. After he bolted she ended up slogging through muck for over an hour, listening to the disgusting pig slosh about in an attempt to hide. When he ducked behind the compost barrel, Faye had him cornered. Panic took over the chubby man's expression. He pounced on the taller woman. Caught off guard, she fell backwards only to have the nasty troll-man try to bury her in anything and everything he could grasp. "I ain't goin' go. Don't take me, I'll lose my collection!" He kept babbling, trying to bury Faye's head and shoulders. He refused to budge. In an attempt to remove him Faye kicked out, hoping to connect with a weapon of some kind. Instead her foot caught the latch to the compost container, spilling the putrid liquid. Jongen was knocked off replaced by a barrage of manure, plant refuse and worms which skirted across her skin. Furious at her predicament, she took her ire out on the dazed bounty. Boxing his ears soundly, she dropped him in a watering trough to remove some of the gunk, wrapped him up and deposited him at the local police station.

She knew she was a mess, but the dazed look of the booking agent told her she was much, much worse. "Ya look like you've rolled in shit, honey." Faye shot the woman a nasty glare. Unfazed the agent left the office only to return a moment later with a wet rag. "Get summa that crud off yer face. Who's `is?" Faye gave the woman Jongen's information. Now booked, she collected his measly fee and left. Spike'll take forever in the shower out of spite if he sees me like this. Hoping Lady Luck would smile on her, for once, she hurried home. A small sense of relief washing over her when she saw the Swordfish, and therefore its owner, had yet to return. Wasting no time, she rushed to her room. Water, soap and clean clothes a running chant as she dashed to the shower.

Gently laying her chopsticks down, Faye left to toss her laundry in the washer, now a cracking, chipping mess. Spike had noticed the muddy footprints leading from the hangar, but hadn't put two and two together until he heard the retelling of Faye's afternoon adventures. Deciding he didn't feel much like hassling her anymore he gently stretched his bruised side, leaving the table to resettle on the couch, planning to resume his napping. He couldn't repress the small grin gracing his features as he recalled Faye's antics over the roach tail. Remembering her room, he snapped up and sauntered down the hall. He may not have wanted to bother Faye about Jongen anymore but her tizzy over the bug made it necessary to remove all of Ed's more obvious decorations. He wanted to surprise her, make her squeal. With Ed's ebullient attempts the necessary subtlety was lost- she'd just be pissed. He quickly pulled down the bugs and tape streamers; quietly he took the piles from her linens, leaving a few sprinkled throughout; and finished by dropping the choicest representations in a few drawers, shoes and under various objects. Just enough to be unexpected. Spike's shoulders bounced momentarily as he quietly closed the door and tip-toed to his room. Reminiscing on her reaction earlier made him laugh out loud, almost. Instead he slunk towards his bed, lit a smoke and disposed of the evidence by tossing the sticky mass in the trash. Now all he had to do was sit back and wait for the inevitable.

 

Jet irritably collected the empty Styrofoam cups. He paused, Damn, I never got to tell them about the new bounty. “Ed,” Jet needed information, “I need you to look at the files Bob sent over and find anything and everything you can about Boris Octavin and Kevin Lihas. They have a mysterious partner, try to find someone that's connected to both of `em.” He scrubbed at his neck, “I want their last where-abouts, pictures, what they ate for dinner last Tuesday, anything and everything got it?” Jet turned to go, then added, "Some politician's son died the other day, find out where he went to school, what groups he was in, favorite hang-out, etcetera. He was one of their customers and may lead us to a contact."

“Yes sir, Mr. Jet, SIR!” with a half salute Ed scooped up Ein and zipped off to begin the task.