Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Past/Present/Future ❯ A secret between friends ( Chapter 9 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Opium_Princess 
Anime/Manga: Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Mystery / Romance / | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 09.28.2003 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 276 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama / Mystery / Romance / | Type: Continuation | Uploaded On: 09.28.2003 | Pages: 1 | Words: 1.9K | Visits: 276 | Status: Completed
A little secret between friends.
"Okay, this search engine isn't any help," Song said irritably. She let out a heavy sigh and got up from the couch. Faye was sitting on the arm of the chair, slumped over, swinger her legs and eating some of that ice-cream Song bought. I sighed myself and rubbed my leg. It was beginning to fall asleep. Song pulled up her pants and walked to the bathroom.
"Humph," I heard Faye snort. I closed the laptop then turned to look at her. She was kicking the back of her heels against the couch with a slight frown on her face. I really hated to admit it, but she looked beautiful. Like a little doll posed on the Home Shopping Network. She dipped the spoon in the bowl and filled her mouth with ice-cream before starring back into space with absentminded eyes. I found myself wondering what was rolling through her brain. What in the hell does Faye Valentine think about? I guess if I were her I would be wondering about my past. Then I suddenly remembered that she and Spike bumped heads just a few days ago. That is probably why she's starring like that into the air. She must have felt my eyes boring a hole into the side of her head, because her emerald green eyes just slid in her head until she was glaring at me. I wished she was still looking into space because that gaze made chills go up my spine.
"Why the hell are you looking at me like that?" she asked. I grunted and turned back around to the computer. I heard her mumble some insults behind my back and I grind my teeth together in frustration.
"Your a hell of a lot prettier when you keep your mouth shut," I said, my calm voice betraying the anger I felt steaming up inside of me. I could hear the spoon clink inside of the bowl and I watched out the corner of my eye was Faye slumped over more and glanced to the side. The gesture was so identical to Spikes when I comforted him about the fight that it made chills go up my spine again. She sallowed the ice-cream before turning back and talking to me.
"And you sound a hell of a lot smarter when you keep your mouth shut," she spat out. I could see her chest moving up and down quickly, rage glittered in her eyes. She wanted a fight, she needed something to take her mind of whatever was troubling her. I stood up from the table, I could feel the blood rushing through my legs again. Faye watched each one of my moves as I walked toward her. Her legs stopped kicking against the chair and she didn't blink, she was holding her breath. Swallowing hard and wondering why the hell I was doing this, my fist shot past her face. I was really careful as to not to hit her.
Faye bolted up and returned the blow to the side of my head. To be in a full pink dress, she moved pretty well. I smirked a little as I blocked her fast jabs towards my face and body. She grunted and screamed, not in frustration because she couldn't hit me, but because she was letting out anger and pain that was bottled up for over two days. Me being her punching bag lasted for about 5 or 10 minutes before her energy was drained from her petite frame. She stared into my eyes gasping for air, I let go of her small wrists and she collapsed onto her knees in front of me. She leaned down onto her elbows, taking deep breaths.
"Jet," she gasped out. She looked at me from the floor. Strands of violet hair stuck to her head with sweat, her cheeks were flushed, almost as pink as the dress. "Thanks," she said before turning back down. 'I really needed that." She lifted herself from the ground and plopped on the couch, hitching her skirt up until it reached her mid-thighs. "I'm gonna go take a shower," she stated to either me or herself before getting up. It's then I remembered that Song was in the bathroom. I looked around the ship, wondering where she could have went to. It didn't take more then 5 minutes to go to the bathroom. Maybe she got lost?
I got up from the couch and walked down the East wing hall. That leaded to the storage rooms, fuel chambers, ammo chambers and so on. She wasn't there. But why the hell would she be in this part of the ship? It smelled like gasoline and motor-oil. So I headed towards the North wing hall. Those were the bedrooms and cockpit. I looked carefully into each room, expect for Faye's room because I knew she would have the door locked.
"Song!" I called out, my voice bouncing off the metal walls. I was about to turn around when something told me to keep going. As I went father, I could smell her perfumed scent.
I found the young woman sitting in one of those chairs with wheels rolled by the window where Spike often trained and exercise. Her leg was dangling off the side of the arm rest. I smiled and walked up a little farther, but stopped when I saw the metallic glint of something thin and sharp. I squinted and could barely, but clearly make out the milky liquid floating around in the hypodermic needle as she slipped the point inside her vein. "Song!" I barked out and ran to her, rage, confusion and a million different emotions running through my mind. I stood, eyes and mouth wide open as she bit her lower lip and her brows furrowed together in concentration until the milky substance was gone. She wiped off the droplet of blood and turned to look at me. "What the hell are you doing?" I whispered harshly, snatching the needle away, careful as not to prick myself with the sharp point. "Is this what you wanted the money for? Huh? Is this is?!" I grabbed her forearms roughly and almost jerked her from the chair. It just simply rolled towards me. Song pressed her full lips together and glared into my eyes. I opened my mouth to say something, ask her why she was doing this.
"I'm a diabetic," she said calmly. My face dropped. There was a clinking noise and I turned to see a small empty glass bottle roll on the floor. I let her go and she slumped back into the chair watching me as I backed away from her. I turned and began to pace the floor, all she done was resume gazing out of the window at clear starry night and earth scenery
'"God, Song I'm-" I stuttered out a few times before actually getting threw my shock and embarrassment, "I'm so so so sorry. I didn't know. I-I just asumed..well..that..I'm sorry. I really apologize I shouldn't have went off like that," not enough words of apology could make me feel better. She just looked at me and smiled, clearly amused.
"Chill old man," she said getting up and stretching. "I would have done the same thing. I mean come on, first think you think when you see someone shooting something white in their arm, is that they're shooting up. Kids really got a kick out of me doing that in school though, great conversation topic," She joked trying to lighten the mood. I sat down on a nearby crate. "Oh Jet, come on! I forgive you honestly!" Song said sitting on my lap playfully and draping on arm around my neck. She nuzzled her head underneath my chin and I fell back until my back was supported my the wall. After a few moments, a thought arose in my head. Why wasn't it bothering me that this girl is sitting in my lap? I shifted uncomfortably. She looked up at me. "Am I cutting off circulation to your knees or something?" She joked again. I made a tiny smile and shook my head. "Wondering why I'm sitting on your lap?"
"Yeah, but you don't have to get up," I said, trying to make it sound like I was joking. I was mostly serious but she laughed and unwrapped her arm from around my neck. I was a little afraid that she would get up, taking all the warmth with her, but she just snuggled closer. "How long have you been a diabetic?" I asked out of pure curiosity, hoping she wouldn't take offense.
"Oh..since I was 10. Runs in the family, I have really low insulin, but I keep it in check. I never let my heath get in front of things I really want to do." She was quiet for a moment. "Jet,"
"Yeah?"
"I don't want you worrying over my health. Thinking that I'm not strong enough to help catch Van Hoosen. Because I am."
"I never have and never will think of you as weak, Song." I replied, my real hand creeping up her side, testing if she would let me move without making her feel groped and without her thinking I was a pervert, before resting on her waist. She ran a hand down my metal arm. The slickness of it made her finger glide gracefully along the top. I imagined her finger being a skater and my metal arm being ice. Song grabbed my hand and placed it on top of my other one.
"You don't mind do you?" she asked stroking the metal. My heart had been pounding against my rib cage, threatening to break out.
"No, not really," I said shifting again, but still holding her. "It's just that it makes some people," I stopped to clear my throat nervously, "uncomfortable." She smiled.
"Not me," she said sleepily. I know it had to feel weird for her. One rough and callused hand and one cold and sleek one on her bare skin. I was still a little worried that she would smack it away for flinch, but she didn't. Why did she feel the need to touch my arm? Didn't it bother her, why didn't it creep her out? Why wasn't Alisa so comfortable with my prostatic arm? I had to ask.
"Song," I called out. When I didn't get an answer, I looked down. She had fallen asleep. I glanced from her, to the small empty bottle of insulin rolling around on the metal floor. I could clearly see a little of the white medicine gathered up at the bottom. The needle was next to it.
"Okay, this search engine isn't any help," Song said irritably. She let out a heavy sigh and got up from the couch. Faye was sitting on the arm of the chair, slumped over, swinger her legs and eating some of that ice-cream Song bought. I sighed myself and rubbed my leg. It was beginning to fall asleep. Song pulled up her pants and walked to the bathroom.
"Humph," I heard Faye snort. I closed the laptop then turned to look at her. She was kicking the back of her heels against the couch with a slight frown on her face. I really hated to admit it, but she looked beautiful. Like a little doll posed on the Home Shopping Network. She dipped the spoon in the bowl and filled her mouth with ice-cream before starring back into space with absentminded eyes. I found myself wondering what was rolling through her brain. What in the hell does Faye Valentine think about? I guess if I were her I would be wondering about my past. Then I suddenly remembered that she and Spike bumped heads just a few days ago. That is probably why she's starring like that into the air. She must have felt my eyes boring a hole into the side of her head, because her emerald green eyes just slid in her head until she was glaring at me. I wished she was still looking into space because that gaze made chills go up my spine.
"Why the hell are you looking at me like that?" she asked. I grunted and turned back around to the computer. I heard her mumble some insults behind my back and I grind my teeth together in frustration.
"Your a hell of a lot prettier when you keep your mouth shut," I said, my calm voice betraying the anger I felt steaming up inside of me. I could hear the spoon clink inside of the bowl and I watched out the corner of my eye was Faye slumped over more and glanced to the side. The gesture was so identical to Spikes when I comforted him about the fight that it made chills go up my spine again. She sallowed the ice-cream before turning back and talking to me.
"And you sound a hell of a lot smarter when you keep your mouth shut," she spat out. I could see her chest moving up and down quickly, rage glittered in her eyes. She wanted a fight, she needed something to take her mind of whatever was troubling her. I stood up from the table, I could feel the blood rushing through my legs again. Faye watched each one of my moves as I walked toward her. Her legs stopped kicking against the chair and she didn't blink, she was holding her breath. Swallowing hard and wondering why the hell I was doing this, my fist shot past her face. I was really careful as to not to hit her.
Faye bolted up and returned the blow to the side of my head. To be in a full pink dress, she moved pretty well. I smirked a little as I blocked her fast jabs towards my face and body. She grunted and screamed, not in frustration because she couldn't hit me, but because she was letting out anger and pain that was bottled up for over two days. Me being her punching bag lasted for about 5 or 10 minutes before her energy was drained from her petite frame. She stared into my eyes gasping for air, I let go of her small wrists and she collapsed onto her knees in front of me. She leaned down onto her elbows, taking deep breaths.
"Jet," she gasped out. She looked at me from the floor. Strands of violet hair stuck to her head with sweat, her cheeks were flushed, almost as pink as the dress. "Thanks," she said before turning back down. 'I really needed that." She lifted herself from the ground and plopped on the couch, hitching her skirt up until it reached her mid-thighs. "I'm gonna go take a shower," she stated to either me or herself before getting up. It's then I remembered that Song was in the bathroom. I looked around the ship, wondering where she could have went to. It didn't take more then 5 minutes to go to the bathroom. Maybe she got lost?
I got up from the couch and walked down the East wing hall. That leaded to the storage rooms, fuel chambers, ammo chambers and so on. She wasn't there. But why the hell would she be in this part of the ship? It smelled like gasoline and motor-oil. So I headed towards the North wing hall. Those were the bedrooms and cockpit. I looked carefully into each room, expect for Faye's room because I knew she would have the door locked.
"Song!" I called out, my voice bouncing off the metal walls. I was about to turn around when something told me to keep going. As I went father, I could smell her perfumed scent.
I found the young woman sitting in one of those chairs with wheels rolled by the window where Spike often trained and exercise. Her leg was dangling off the side of the arm rest. I smiled and walked up a little farther, but stopped when I saw the metallic glint of something thin and sharp. I squinted and could barely, but clearly make out the milky liquid floating around in the hypodermic needle as she slipped the point inside her vein. "Song!" I barked out and ran to her, rage, confusion and a million different emotions running through my mind. I stood, eyes and mouth wide open as she bit her lower lip and her brows furrowed together in concentration until the milky substance was gone. She wiped off the droplet of blood and turned to look at me. "What the hell are you doing?" I whispered harshly, snatching the needle away, careful as not to prick myself with the sharp point. "Is this what you wanted the money for? Huh? Is this is?!" I grabbed her forearms roughly and almost jerked her from the chair. It just simply rolled towards me. Song pressed her full lips together and glared into my eyes. I opened my mouth to say something, ask her why she was doing this.
"I'm a diabetic," she said calmly. My face dropped. There was a clinking noise and I turned to see a small empty glass bottle roll on the floor. I let her go and she slumped back into the chair watching me as I backed away from her. I turned and began to pace the floor, all she done was resume gazing out of the window at clear starry night and earth scenery
'"God, Song I'm-" I stuttered out a few times before actually getting threw my shock and embarrassment, "I'm so so so sorry. I didn't know. I-I just asumed..well..that..I'm sorry. I really apologize I shouldn't have went off like that," not enough words of apology could make me feel better. She just looked at me and smiled, clearly amused.
"Chill old man," she said getting up and stretching. "I would have done the same thing. I mean come on, first think you think when you see someone shooting something white in their arm, is that they're shooting up. Kids really got a kick out of me doing that in school though, great conversation topic," She joked trying to lighten the mood. I sat down on a nearby crate. "Oh Jet, come on! I forgive you honestly!" Song said sitting on my lap playfully and draping on arm around my neck. She nuzzled her head underneath my chin and I fell back until my back was supported my the wall. After a few moments, a thought arose in my head. Why wasn't it bothering me that this girl is sitting in my lap? I shifted uncomfortably. She looked up at me. "Am I cutting off circulation to your knees or something?" She joked again. I made a tiny smile and shook my head. "Wondering why I'm sitting on your lap?"
"Yeah, but you don't have to get up," I said, trying to make it sound like I was joking. I was mostly serious but she laughed and unwrapped her arm from around my neck. I was a little afraid that she would get up, taking all the warmth with her, but she just snuggled closer. "How long have you been a diabetic?" I asked out of pure curiosity, hoping she wouldn't take offense.
"Oh..since I was 10. Runs in the family, I have really low insulin, but I keep it in check. I never let my heath get in front of things I really want to do." She was quiet for a moment. "Jet,"
"Yeah?"
"I don't want you worrying over my health. Thinking that I'm not strong enough to help catch Van Hoosen. Because I am."
"I never have and never will think of you as weak, Song." I replied, my real hand creeping up her side, testing if she would let me move without making her feel groped and without her thinking I was a pervert, before resting on her waist. She ran a hand down my metal arm. The slickness of it made her finger glide gracefully along the top. I imagined her finger being a skater and my metal arm being ice. Song grabbed my hand and placed it on top of my other one.
"You don't mind do you?" she asked stroking the metal. My heart had been pounding against my rib cage, threatening to break out.
"No, not really," I said shifting again, but still holding her. "It's just that it makes some people," I stopped to clear my throat nervously, "uncomfortable." She smiled.
"Not me," she said sleepily. I know it had to feel weird for her. One rough and callused hand and one cold and sleek one on her bare skin. I was still a little worried that she would smack it away for flinch, but she didn't. Why did she feel the need to touch my arm? Didn't it bother her, why didn't it creep her out? Why wasn't Alisa so comfortable with my prostatic arm? I had to ask.
"Song," I called out. When I didn't get an answer, I looked down. She had fallen asleep. I glanced from her, to the small empty bottle of insulin rolling around on the metal floor. I could clearly see a little of the white medicine gathered up at the bottom. The needle was next to it.