Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Got You ❯ Voices ( Chapter 13 )

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….

Coded secrets in the middle of the night.

 

Chapter 13: Voices (Disturbed)

 

“Spike. Spike. Come in.” The RedTail had recently docked, sans Faye.

“Yo.”

“Spike, where the hell is Faye? Why wasn't she…” Jet paused when a feminine hand whipped across the screen and cocked an eyebrow. “I thought she was a big girl, could take care of herself?”

“Shut up, Jet. I wasn't going to let her fly alone. Whatever's wrong has knocked her on her ass.” He furrowed his brow, “I don't think it was supposed to though. Probably meant to loosen her up and get her to talk. Kevin said it'd help her relax.” He grinned, chuckling, “She was pretty tight lipped at the club. He had to work for a fake name that I gave him.” He glanced at something off screen and grumbled, “Either she was slipped too much accidentally or it's having an odd reaction.”

Jet was glad the ships had view screens, by the thrashing and Spike's frustrated expression Faye was in sorry shape. He tried to peek at the small splash of hair visible in the lower corner of the screen. Frowning he glanced at this partner, “What's she doin'?”

Spike studied the floor, pulled a face, and returned his gaze to Jet's image, “She's drooling all over my leg.” He shrugged, Jet looked lost. “She's asleep, babbling and coughing.” Faye's wheezing followed, proving his point. “She's feverish too.” He pulled a disturbed face when the hacking persisted.

“How soon `til you get here?”

Spike checked his instruments, “Five minutes. Give or take.”

Jet rubbed his head, “Fine. Set her on the couch when you get back.” The screen blanked.

 

Jet was not pleased, minimally relieved but far from pleased. Any shred of a decent mood over the evening's events napalmed the second the RedTail had docked minus a pilot.

“Ed,” he looked from his disconnected comm towards the laptop crowned with disheveled, coppery hair, “You heard what Spike said.” She nodded still watching the video feed from the club, “Send the video of Faye at the bar to the largest view screen. I want to go over it with Spike. Start seeing what you can find about drugs with this kind of reaction,” he noticed Ed's nervous twitch and lack of playful singing.

Her eyes broke from the screen, “But scary man has just hurt the drink man.” Jet glanced at what Ed was viewing. “Ed saw the drink man sprinkle pink powder in Faye-Faye's drink.”

“What?! Why didn't you say anything?”

“Ed was not asked. She does not know what goes in grown-up drinks. Ed is just a kid.”

“Shit!” Jet punched the wall, Ed squeaked. “Sigh. Is Lihas still there?” Ed gave a negative shake.

“He left after the big, meaty men took the trash out.” Jet had a good guess what was in the trash. Ein softly nuzzled an available arm. She smiled at the gesture and gazed up. Nervous worry marring her normally happy visage.

Jet sighed, “She's fine, Ed. She's with Spike. You know he won't let anything happen to her if he can help it.”

“Spike-person does not like Faye,” Ed's worry dissolving, her fingers already typing. Ein staring at the screen as the search resumed.

“You and I both know that's not true.” Ed paused. “He's just too chicken shit to admit it, even to himself.”

Ed's face split into a pleased grin, he felt a slight swell of relief. “Ed thinks Papa-Jet-person is right and a better poet `n Spike.” He chuckled, shrugged and went to round up first aid kits, cold medicine and the ancient drug dictionary he had floating around- with Spike's penchant for injury and self-medicating it was wise to know what substances were safe to mix with which. Hopefully, he'd find something of use. Ed's running dialog with Ein followed him down the hallway, transferring seamlessly to white noise. Spike better be careful. He's slipping. Jet chuckled.

 

He was in the hanger the moment the Swordfish docked, not pleased. Spike's five minutes had turned into thirty. The reason: “I said give or take.” No sooner was the hatch released then the large man scooped up Faye, her limp hand smacking Spike in the ear as Jet rushed her into the Bebop's innards. “Damn. She's burning up.” At the hatch he yelled, “ED! Get some blankets.” At the sound of hustling feet he glanced at his partner, “Spike, once Faye's settled go over Ed's findings and try to figure out what she was slipped.”

“No luck yet?” Spike caught up to the weighed down man.

Jet leveled an irritated frown, “We think it's one of the newer designer drugs. A type of hybrid. Ed found an message to Kevin that explained if the drug was mixed with alcohol it was nearly impossible to taste. They weren't sure. He replied that he would test it, tonight.”

“Huh.”

Jet laid Faye on the yellow couch, noting Spike's jacket. “Eh... You want that back or should I leave it with her?” He pointed to the dark sleeve Faye was cuddling.

“Leave it.” With a shrug Spike turned, just missing a blanket laden Ed. Exiting the room he frowned, Was that off my bed?

“Ed, is that Spike's?” She glanced at the older man with innocent eyes.

“Jet told Ed to get Faye-Faye a blanket. Ed is not allowed in Faye-Faye's room,” she took on a serious face, “without permission since the bugs,” the silly grin returned, “so Ed took Spike's. He has not banned Edward, silly Lunkhead.” She spun and swayed. Jet snatched the blanket before it fell, tucking it around Faye.

“He's not going to be happy.”

“Happy about what?” Spike popped the cap off his beer, lowering into the chair by the view screen, Ed hovering by Faye.

“Spike-person, Jet?” Both men glanced her way.

“Yeah Ed.” She was staring intently, listening to Faye mumble.

“Faye-Faye is not acting like she does when she drinks or when she's sick.” Ed leaned closer to Faye's mouth. She stood and whispered, “She's telling secrets.”

Jet's eyes widened as he tuned in to the running monologue. “…I don't care if he is… he doesn't… NO… Nope. I'm… screw up. Ask…” She tightened her grip on the jacket, “Think they'll leave me?” Sniffle. Cough, “Don't tell them but...” Shrug, “I like the kid and the dog …” giggle, “Je's fussy... Spike…” She scratched at her forehead, “Uh huh… guess. W's watchin' `night. I...” Smile. Spike's eyes widened as he glanced at the other two. She coughed and turned, “Didn't mind, did he?” She shivered, “No. Can't. No, no, nononono…” again she slipped into nonsensical noises. Though it seemed nothing more than verbal diarrhea, her lapses into coherent phrases made the two men seriously consider Ed's evaluation. Jet glanced at Spike before focusing again on Faye, worried over her predicament and unsure what to do.

Spike set his lighter to the end of his cigarette, “She did that earlier too.”

“Huh, it's the damnedest thing.” The older man shrugged, glancing at the woman on the couch, she rolled away from the audience. Jet secured the blanket, again, and noticed a card peeking out her pocket. What's this? Picking up the piece of litter, he taunted, “Just think of what you might learn the next time she starts?” He grinned at the unruffled Spike before absently glancing at the card.

“What's this?” Jet shrugged, passing the card to Spike.

Flipping the card over, “Looks like a business card.” He frowned at the scrawled message, “Blue Suede. Ten o'clock, Sunday.”

“Where did it come from?”
“Lihas.”

“WHAT? You're kidding me?” Spike contemplated the card, Jet glanced at a flushed Faye.

“Ed, find out what the Blue Suede is. Keep an eye on Faye while I get something to cool her down a little.” Instructions given Jet disappeared, leaving Spike and Ed to wait.

Ed held her hand out for the card. Glancing at Faye, “Ed still thinks she's telling secrets!” The hacker bubbled bouncing away from her perch by Faye's head.

“Secrets about what?” Spike sipped his beer, peeking at the hacker. She just wiggled her eyebrows as she mimed zipping up her mouth, before turning to the computer.

 

“Has she said anything else?”

Spike shook his head. “Nothing.” He had wanted to hear more, still unsure who she was referring to. He had a sinking suspicion he knew the mysterious slob quite well- personally even. He had no doubt the others knew what she was talking about, At least Ed knows. Jet was grinning. He knew this wasn't the first time she'd said something in front of Spike, the cowboy's thinly veiled interest gave him away. Spike shrugged. He wanted to brood. Squelching his cigarette under foot he brushed off Jet's “Hey! That's what ashtrays are for!” and headed towards the door. Ed's excited yip stopped him cold.

“Ed has found it! Ed found what Faye-Faye was given!!” Unable to contain herself she began twirling, and flipping about the room. Ein happily nipping at her heels; Jet snatched the laptop and read the screen with an increasingly grim expression.

“Looks like you did,” Ed's smile grew exponentially and she began using Spike's stiff form as a jungle gym. Peeling the excited child off, he meandered back to Jet.

“Any side effects?” He glanced over the big man's shoulder, attempting to ignore the clinging Ed and circling Ein.

Jet nervously rubbed his head, “Huh. Never heard of this crap. They call it `Peach'.”

“What kind of stupid name is that? Isn't that some fuzzy fruit from Earth?”

Jet nodded and began searching dictionaries, “It can also mean to blab, archaic usage. Probably a play on the color. Ed said it was pink.”

“Huh. So it's like a truth serum?”

“Yeah, kind of. Says it's a mix of burundanga, morphine and cyanide. It causes hallucinations or delirium, lowers inhibitions and twilight sleep.” He read a bit more, “If given the right amount the person becomes drowsy and easily manipulated. Too much and it ends up making the person…”

“Knock out and spill coded secrets like Faye-Faye!” Ed cackled, taking a glance at the huddled form on the couch.

“Or kills them.”

“Side effects?”

Jet gave a mean little scoff, “She's going to have one hell of a headache in the morning. She's gonna stay feverish too. It'll make a hangover after one of your drinking contests seem like nothin'. From the ingredients Ed could dig up it doesn't mesh well with the shit in that cold pill. The bartender probably gave her too much. That's why he's dead and she's unconscious.” He glanced at her, “We'll be lucky if she doesn't puke up half her guts in tomorrow. Once she's up and eaten, we'll get her settled in her room and do a little leg work.”

“Won't Ed be a problem?”

Jet glanced at the girl. “No, she's pretty attentive when it comes to Faye anymore.” Spike couldn't hide the shock. Jet chuckled, “and she's learned what is considered off limits.” Ed had the decency to look a tad ashamed.

“Ed said she did not mean to kill half the flowers.”

“Trees Ed.” He snickered, “Messed with the light setting and burned them to a crisp. Faye helped her earn some money and she bought a cactus to make up for it.” He smiled kindly at Ed, ruffling her hair. Spike just gaped. Scenes of companionable home life had never been the norm before and since when did Faye willingly help someone without monetary compensation earn money?

“What the hell happened while I was healing?” Jet and Ed shrugged before returning their attentions to a thrashing Faye. Ed carefully, wetted the towel that slipped from Faye's head and returned it. Jet wandered off to find a bucket incase she decided to succumb to nausea in a few hours, and Spike stood stunned, staring at the cock headed corgi. “Where am I?!” Ein tilted his head to the opposite side. Frustrated and confused, he grumped off to his room, to collect some various herbs to help remove some of Faye's congestion. He sighed in the doorway, At least nothing in here's changed. That's when he noticed his missing blanket. “ED!!”