Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Hymn for Cowboys Led Astray ❯ Where the Wind Blows ( Chapter 2 )
Disclaimer: Cowboy Bebop belongs to Sunrise, Inc. As much as I love Spike, this means he doesn't belong to me…anyway, shall we continue?
Chapter 2: Where the wind blows
I gradually became aware of the morning and drifted up out of sleep. Bright sunbeams streamed through the blinds covering the window near my bed as I stretched and sat up. It would have been a beautiful day had it not started out so poorly.
My eyes (both still real, not the strange mismatched colors that greet me every morning in the mirror now.) trained on the small movement from the corner. Vicious raised a hand to cover a feigned yawn from the chair in the corner.
"Really Spike, you should start getting up earlier." He turned to grin at me, an icy smile that conveyed no real humor. "You missed a glorious sunrise, by the way." I swallowed, still trying to understand how he had gotten into my high-security apartment.
Deciding to shake off the shivers that ran down my back, I favored him with a smile and stretched again. "Aside from trying to figure out how long you've been sitting there, I'd like to thank you for not bringing that bird in here." I grinned. "You know how much I hate sending you the cleaning bill for getting bird crap out of my carpet." Vicious smirked, and my memory of last night's near-fiasco filtered back into my mind.
I moved to sit on the edge of my rumpled bed. Wearing only shorts myself, I glanced at the bulky trench coat that my closet cohort wore. He could have practically a whole arsenal concealed in those folds, and I would be dead in my boxers before I could make a move. He must have noticed my glances, because Vicious spread the jacket open, revealing his gray cardigan and a suspicious lack of any weapons.
My look of surprise earned a small snort of real amusement, and I looked up to see the eyes of my best friend had replaced the cold eyes that greeted me from sleep. "Come. Mao want to see both of us in his office." In spite of myself, I felt an eyebrow rise in confusion.
If Mao wanted to see us, something big was either on its way, or already here. Either way, the implications couldn't be good. The small Asian man was my mentor, yes, but no one ever enjoyed a summons to stand in front of that large imposing desk. Could this have something to do with last night? Maybe-
"Spike." I broke my chain of thought. Vicious stood above me, pointing at his watch. "He wanted us there in twenty minutes." I nodded. "I'll meet you there as soon as I'm dressed." I told him. Vicious nodded, and stalked, rather calmly for him, out of my room. Sighing, I bent and began to gather the now wrinkly clothes from off the floor.
I took probably the fastest shower in the history of man, and dressed. There was no time to properly shave; I'd probably cut my face to ribbons. Soon I was out the door and practically running down the street to the familiar headquarters. The doorman greeted me, and I was on the elevator, keying in my pass code for access to the upper levels of the building.
When I stepped out, Mao's secretary, a young brunette woman with purple eyes waved me in, not even looking up from her computer screen. This couldn't be a good sign. Usually I had to haggle my way to the door around the countless others trying to see Mao. Today, the waiting area stood empty and silent.
I swallowed and knocked; trying to keep up a polite protocol until I knew what this was all about. The lack of Mao's customarily cheery "Come in!" further set me on guard as I pushed open the elaborate red and gold door. Mao sat behind his desk on my right with Vicious already seated in the better of the two chairs facing him. He didn't stand up as usual to greet me, but motioned that I should take the remaining seat.
I sat silently while Mao stared at both of us. Under his heavy glare, I felt like squirming, but settled for tapping my fingers against my thigh. The older man finally looked down, shuffling papers around in front of him. "I suppose you both know why you're here." He said without preamble. "Yesterday's strike against the Scarred Hand group almost didn't happen. I've read the reports from the rest of your men, Spike, but I still can't figure out why their leader wasn't simply assassinated as planned."
He sat back in his chair and spread his hands. "And poor Valadez…the doctors say he's stable, but the shoulder, hell, the whole arm might have to be replaced." I kept my poker face as Mao leaned towards me, in a pleading posture. "I need to know why, Spike. There shouldn't have been any injuries at all. It was a quick in-and-out deal."
I glanced over at Vicious. He sat, stony faced. How could I possibly explain to Mao that Vicious had disobeyed an order, especially while he was in the room? "I had faith in both you boys." Mao said slowly. "Usually you do such a good job with whatever I assign you." He heaved a sigh. "Regardless of yesterday, I've got a new assignment for you." I looked up at him, expecting to see him looking back at me, but to my surprise, he was looking at Vicious, and the silver-haired man was nodding slowly.
What? Because Vicious screwed up and I didn't have the balls to report it, somehow HE was getting leader on the next job? "Hey, wait a minute…" I trailed off. Mao looked at me expectantly. When I didn't continue, he shook his head. I could feel Vicious' eyes on me, drilling into the left side of my head. Oh, the unfairness of it all. I shut my mouth with a snap.
The old man went on to outline our next assignment. My eyes widened as Mao went on to explain that the White Dragons wanted peace between our two Syndicates, and we would be playing bodyguard to an ambassador. Vicious sat silent through the briefing, giving a curt nod occasionally to show that he was still paying attention.
"I need to know that you two will do your best to see that this goes through. None of us can live like this anymore, constantly watching over our shoulders to see who wants us dead." A slight shiver of recognition went down my spine as Mao's eyes looked out the giant bay windows. His wife, a beautiful innocent woman, had been gunned down by a White Tiger operative over five years ago. How could he sign a peace agreement with the people responsible for that?
Before I knew it, Mao had concluded the meeting, and we were on the elevator, back down to the lower levels. I glanced over at Vicious to see his reaction to the latest mission, but he stared straight at the doors and didn't speak a word to me when they opened. He walked away before I could say anything to stop him, and I watched his retreating back as I wondered what exactly was going on. I could have sworn that he had been smiling, but now I wasn't so sure.
The grumble of my stomach finally reminded me that standing in the middle of the hallway wasn't going to make the hunger go away, and I began to walk down the hall to the kitchens. As I walked, my mind was left to wonder why I felt such a foreboding for the mission. It was three days away, and I didn't know what to expect. No one had ever talked or even whispered about peace between the Syndicates. It seemed as if a whole new future was spread before us, but I was wary about taking the first steps towards it.
And that smile. It made me wonder what Vicious had to hide.