Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Got You ❯ Dat's What I'm Talkin' About ( Chapter 12 )

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….

An acid trip, or something like it.

 

Chapter 12: Dats What I'm Talkin' About (Cowboy Mouth)

 

Spike had moved in order to keep Faye in sight. As she worked her way around the floor other dancers would shift: the men trying to catch her eye, the women competing to regain their wandering attentions. She was hard to miss and impossible to ignore. Jet observed Spike's unwavering focus. That's a first. He's taking this seriously, he scowled, too seriously. “Hey, Spike. Kevin's just met Faye. Do you see it?” Grunt. “Keep an eye on `em, if he's decided to make contact the chances of him pullin' something shady are good.” Jet paused uncomfortably hoping his listener could fill in the blanks.

“Got it. That shit!” Jet's eyebrow rose at Spike's outburst, glancing at Faye he watched as Kevin slid behind her, molding to her back, his hands groping-he couldn't tell where- as a predatory snarl graced his thin lips. Jet was furious he wanted to let Spike, in complete agreement, drag Faye away and teach the cretin the important lesson: keep your hands to yourself. He took a calming breath, “Keep cool, Spike-o. She may get some of the info we need to catch all of them.” They noted Faye's forced calm, occasionally an uncomfortable frown flitting across her features as her eyes shifted to Spike's empty corner. Jet smiled, at the tell-tale gesture.

“I'd rather kick his ass and dump him in jail or better a nearby dumpster. Save us time. Boris is too stupid to hide out alone.” Jet was shocked Spike was angry, another check of the cameras showed the lanky cowboy portraying a look of indifference as he edged his way through the crowd. But to his partner, Jet could see carefully timed grip and relax of the cowboy's fists, the occasional clench of the jaw and the popping of various bones as he watched the man molest Faye. Spike wasn't angry: he was ferociously livid. Oh shit. Kevin released Faye just as Spike broke through the crowd. A few trailing hands touching his arms before disappearing into the throng. Ed and Jet collectively sighed in relief. Catastrophe adverted, for now. He glanced around when he heard his exhalation in stereo, When'd she sneak back? He shook his head in defeat.

“Ooo lala. Ed thinks Spike person is going to get in trouble tonight, fight, deck him right, outta sight…”

 

Spike wove his way towards Faye, ignoring the girls who pressed against him or tried to stop him. “Dance with me.” One of the girls that arrived with Faye begged. He gently brushed her off and continued towards Faye and Lihas. Who knew she could be so… Spike shook his head in disgust, Knock it off, this is Faye. He broke through the crowd, immediately noting Kevin had removed his hands from her person. Stepping closer to the pair, Kevin roughly tugged Faye towards him, hissing something into her ear. His ferocious glare daring Spike to make a move, the moment he stepped back Spike settled in front, slipping his arms comfortably around her waist. She leaned towards him, pressing close. He tipped his face towards her ear, turning his back away from the retreating bounty and whispered into her comm, “Jet. Contact made.” He grinned when Faye allowed him to lead. She felt warm, too warm. His grip tightened as he eased her closer, catching small hints of orange floating off her hair. She rested her ear softly on his chest, noting the pleasant hint of his cologne and smoke. She absently hoped for another slow song, it was nice not to have to think of him as a sparring partner. His cheek settled on her forehead, “Lihas will have a shit hemorrhage over this,” he chuckled. Faye chose to ignore him and pretend this was the norm. She knew you took pleasantries when they came. Spike was busy trying to decide if she was feverish or just warm from dancing in her sweater. Deciding he couldn't do anything about it one way or the other his grip tightened and he enjoyed the next song. You took the good when you could. The third song ended, his grip eased and he began stepping away. His head bobbed towards the bar. With a small nod she began moving in the crowd to the faster pace.

Jet's voice crackled through the comm, “Nice job scaring Lihas away… You… liked…you?” Spike flipped the device off. It wasn't worth the headache to try and decode staccato Jet speak. A few songs later Faye left the throng and made her way towards the bar, she looked exhausted. She greeted Spike politely as she slid onto a neighboring stool and ordered. She coughed a few times into a napkin, her head propped on her fist. Spike frowned, she looked miserable. He glowered when the small, bald, toad of a man he'd seen shadowing Lihas sat on the stool next to her. Boris was even more pathetic and uncomely in person. Gently, said amphibian tapped her shoulder and smiled when she faced him.

“Hi. I'm Boris,” the guy tilted his head towards a booth shrouding Faye's previous dance partner. Spike's eyes slid in the same direction.

“Hello, Boris.” Faye gave her most becoming smile. “I was told you were going to buy me a drink.”

He nodded.

She shifted, “So, Why do I feel like this is an interview?” Again, she smiled leaning towards the gollum.

“Eh… My cousin over there is a bit shy and wanted me to get to know you before…” Boris shot Spike a look, trying to gage if the man was listening or not. Spike lit a cigarette, feigning more interest in the scantily clad waitresses. Satisfied Boris grinned, “Heh. You know he's taken quite an interest in you. Would love it if you could spend some time with him,” Boris's eyes drifted down her figure, lingering on the choicest parts of her anatomy before shooting back to her eyes. Spike caught the look, the only indication an aggressive flick of his cigarette. “Anyways, my cousin wants to know what your preferences are and if you'd be interested in spending time with him at one of his selective parties?”

Faye giggled, “What is this, the dating game?” Boris shifted. “Why can't your cousin get to know me himself? He had no trouble dancing with me.” Another nervous shift.

“Do… do… do you have preferences?”

Faye cocked an eyebrow, “In what?” Teasing, she uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, noting the little man's attention locked on the hem of her tiny, denim skirt. Spike caught the focus too. “You mean in men or women?” she put a finger to her chin, “most of the time men. Beer or wine? It depends on the company. Recreational hobbies? Depends on my mood,” she coughed into a napkin, “You need to be specific, fella. Generally, I'm not opposed to experimenting. Daddy's a bit too regimented for my comfort, if you catch my drift.”

“Ah. I see you understand.” Boris's eyes shrunk to pinpricks, his smile gaping.

“I like to keep my options open. I guess you could say I'm game to try anything… once,” Faye took an unnecessarily long pull from her bottle before pulling out a cigarette. Boris jumped to light it, staring intently at her mouth.

“Good. My cousin will be pleased Miss?” Boris leaned forward, trying to catch Faye's name and sneaking a peek down her blouse. She smiled and lowered her head to meet his eyes, “I think I'll keep my name a secret until your cousin introduces himself.” She winked, “I'm shy too,” and pulled her face away.

Boris, a bit stunned, usually they were a little freer with information, and unable to concentrate, too busy admiring to pay attention, he gave a numb shake of his head before he scrambled back to the previously indicated booth. Spike's eyes followed his retreating form, seeing the toad man duck into shadow. He returned his attention to Faye, “That was odd,” his mouth hidden behind his drink. Faye nodded and sniffled slightly before taking a sip of her own. Glancing at Spike's reflection she watched as her voyeur materialized. Quietly he slid himself between the two bounty hunters slipping a small business card into the back pocket of Faye's skirt. Spike nearly throttled the man when his hand gave a unwelcomed squeeze. Faye stiffened uncomfortably.

Lihas snickered and wrapped his arm around her waist his hand resting at the side of her thigh, “So you really are shy, hmmm? Read it when you get home, pet.” Turning his attention to Spike, his voice low, “I'd suggest you keep your eyes and filthy, fucking hands to yourself,” a vicious grin slashing his face, “Wouldn't want an accident on your way out.”

“Didn't know there was a law against looking,” Spike shrugged and openly ogled Faye. The creep visibly bristled. Spike grinned, “She doesn't seem to mind me touching her either, do you Alice?” Spike chuckled when Faye pinked.

Kevin bristled, “There isn't a law, just some friendly advice puke.” He leaned closer to Spike, “Heads up shit head, this bitch is mine. Got it?” Spike bounced his shoulders unfazed by the malevolence personified. Kevin pretended to brush him off and turned a friendly smile to the barman, “Give the lady another. Make it my specialty and add it to my tab.” The barman gave a nervous nod, turning his back to the crowd. Satisfied Kevin returned his attention to Faye, “This is just a sample,” He touched her cheek. “See me when you finish and let me know if it helps you relax and loose some of your shyness.” With a slight smile, “I'm Kevin by the way, and you are?”

Faye returned his smile, subtly turning her face from his hand to accept her new drink, “Wouldn't it be more fun to keep me a bit of a mystery, until next time?” Kevin's congenial mask slipped slightly. Sensing she had pushed her luck, she smiled again and giggled, “I thought my friend over there,” she bobbed the drink towards Spike, “already gave you my name.” She proffered a hand, “I'm Alice. It's nice to meet you Kevin.”

Relaxing, Kevin smiled Ahh... I see why Boris fucked up my instructions, leaning towards Faye, “Oh, I thought you'd have better taste than…” He jerked behind him then grinned as he caught her hand, “I'm pleased to meet you, pet.” The last word, whispered across Faye's skin which promptly attempted to crawl off. She smiled, pulling away from the man to take a sip. “Til next time, my choicest piece.”

“Yeah, next time,” Faye patted the small card in her pocket keeping an eye on Kevin. She snorted when he ducked into the dark booth. “What the hell `m I a piece of meat or something.” Flustered and cranky she took a sip from the new glass.

“Don't drink that Faye,” Spike's eyes met hers through the bar's mirror. She shrugged, took another swallow and pulled a face.

“Urgh,” she smiled at the bartender studying her, just catching Spike's soft chuckle, “This is interesting,” she lifted the glass. “Please tell Kevin thanks, it tastes like shit.” The bartender's head bobbed, his eyes darting between the two before attending to his customers, “I hate crap that uses almond flavoring.” Faye swiveled on her stool to study the dancing crowd absently toying with the cocktail. She tried to take another sip, she needed to finish it so she could get closer to the mark. Spike stood, slipped and knocked the offensive substance from her hand.

“Oops.” He chuckled, poorly playing the role of a drunk. He couldn't believe Faye would continue to drink what the sociopath offered. Is she stupid? She already implied it tastes bad. Shooting an apologetic smirk, “ S'rry `bout that. C-can you help me out?” Wobbling he grabbed Faye's arm and led her towards an exit. His grip left no room to argue.

Kevin prepared to chase the offensive man with his property. Spike grinned when he caught Kevin's eye. Just for the hell of it, he pressed Faye against a wall and kissed her. He frowned, she was burning up and her lack of a snarky retort was troubling. Pulling away slightly he studied her listing form, “What the hell's wrong with you?” She shivered in response and coughed.

Boris attempted to place a restraining hand on his cousin's shoulder, “She'll make the invite, Cous. Don't worry. He's too drunk to do anything with her. Damn guy's a' idiot.” Boris snorted, “Look at him. Just relax. You'll get her.”

Kevin slid back onto the bench, “I hope you're right Boris. For your sake.” Boris twitched slightly, Kevin really hated losing.

 

Jet was having a conniption fit. What the hell's Spike doing? Why are they leaving?! Why isn't the comm working?! “Spike. Faye. Come in!” He chucked the equipment, “Damn worthless pieces of trash. Ed can you tell what they're up to?”

Ed was furiously working on the computer, while slowly shaking her head. “Nothing to see outside.”

“Dammit.”

 

Spike pulled further away, a concerned frown marring his features. “Can you help me out?” His fingers encircled her arm, firm but not bruising unlike the bounty's.

“Uh. Sure,” Faye was confused. Why'd he kiss me? Why's he worried? The drink tasted odd, but it came straight from the bartender, why would he throw it… Faye's world spun slightly. Did I drink more than I thought? Mentally shrugging she accepted her role as Good Samaritan. “Where's your ride?”

“This way.” When the exit door closed, Spike released Faye. Carefully, he studied her from the side. She appeared drunk, but he was certain it wasn't from the quantity she imbibed. Having witnessed, first hand, the amount of alcohol she could consume with few repercussions he felt the first signs of worry begin niggling at him over her increasingly docile and inebriated state. Fiddling with the RedTail's remote he'd slipped off her wrist as she `helped' him out, he set its coordinates for the Bebop. His eyebrows rose at the realization she hadn't caught him, crashing down when Faye fell and began giggling between coughs.

He called Jet. The man's furious snarl ripping over the airwaves, “Leaving so soon?” Jet was livid over the equipment glitch while Faye was talking to the two men. Though he had to admit he was relatively pleased with the outcome. He was able to collect current images of Lihas, it appeared Faye was invited to another location and the kid Spike passed on his way in earned the Beboppers a little extra spending money plus- he was carrying narcotics. It was a decent night.

“We got a slight problem, Jet.” His voice distant while he pulled at something by his feet, Jet's mood plummeted further as he strained to decipher the groans, coughs and rustling. “Kevin slipped Faye somethin' or those cold pills reacted to something she drank or both.”

“What?! You were supposed to not let her accept anything from that guy! When?”

“At the bar. I warned her after she took a sip. When she went for more she dropped it,” Spike's pleased tone explained the clumsiness. He shrugged, “She only had about half the glass. Two or three swallows at most.” Jet was seething. How'd that cretin get something past us? He never gave anything to Faye directly. Was it on the dance floor? He took a breath as Spike continued, “Whatever she's got in her is pretty damn potent.”

“Shit. Get back here so we can figure out what the hell's wrong.”

“Already sent the RedTail back.” Spike disconnected and collected an incoherent Faye off the sidewalk. “Dammit Faye. I wish you hadn't walked into this one,” He sighed and tugged her up.

Her head lolled loosely, “I hadda finnnissshhh the drink to talk to `im.” She giggled and slipped, “Jet s'd to g't infor…” she scowled, “infoam… informa…” unfocussed eyes swiveled his way, “you know!”

Spike rolled his eyes as he held her steady. “I thought you knew clubbing protocol, Faye.” He scowled, she'd followed the rules she just didn't know with this group they were different. She tripped again, You wouldn't have walked into this if I'd done my job. By the time they reached the Swordfish, Spike had given up letting her walk. She was draped over his shoulder having an in depth conversation with his lumbar, shivering slightly. He jumped when someone grabbed his backside and squeezed. “Faye, that's not yours.” She giggled and tried again. Frustrated with the outcome of the evening, he unceremoniously dropped her onto the racer's floor. After another burst of shivers he draped his jacket over her, pulled on his gloves, sealed the hatch and set the coordinates.

Her head settled on his thigh and she began mumbling. Her speech slurred and garbled, “What `m I s'pose do?” Spike prepared to answer, she cut him off. “…sn't notice me that way.” She coughed, “I know. I KNOW!” Rubbed her face. “Spicy?” Snort. “Guess it's in the eyes of…” she giggled, tilted her head, eyes still closed, “well, ok. Shhh! Secret! He's a slob. Lazy…” Her head flopped to the side, “What? Give me a break! …steals my coffee, works out…” a light flush, cough and nod, “Yeah… not bad like that. Grr! Yes, I watched! It's hard not to, he's focused and…” Touching her lips, “Uh huh, when's sleep on th'c'ch. But isn't… want… never… never ever, never…” She slipped out of semi-coherent phrasing and returned to soft, quiet breathing punctuated by coughs and sniffles. Spike having witnessed the one sided conversation found he had quite a bit of new information to decipher. His hand bumped her forehead, she was still warm. He sighed and contemplated her ramblings, idly combing through the soft locks strewn across his lap. He chuckled, Didn't that chunky girl call me spicy earlier?