Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Play Me Some More of that Old Blues ❯ Chapter 9 ( Chapter 9 )

 

 

 

Chapter 9

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His feet ached in his heavy boots. He wanted nothing more than to sink them, bare and knee deep, into the icy water of the bay. However, his stinging concern about a certain loud-mouthed crewmember overcame the discomfort. Jet pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. How? How had he reached this point? Almost continuously he'd been asking himself that same question.

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3 years and six months ago:

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When Jet Black left the ISSP, he'd worked completely solo. It had been lonely at first, no denying it. Not only had he left behind a partner at work, he'd also been left behind by a woman he'd loved. Cruising the stars in that beat-up ship had certainly been an adventure, no denying it.

 

The first few bounties he brought in had been small-time, practice till he felt surer about what he was doing. As a cop, he'd always had the back up of his partner, as well as the resources of the ISSP. Once he became freelance though, he had only himself to depend on. Once he became accustomed to soloing it, he moved on to better prey. The ship was in continuous need of maintenance, and it took nearly all his resources to keep her flying.

 

Then, one day, a bounty came in for a guy known only as Sabre. The bounty on the guy was substantial, and Jet set out immediately to beat the other bounty hunters to the prize. He found him on Neptune, hiding out in one of the smaller bars. He hadn't looked like much when Jet first ran into the guy. In fact, he seemed on the scrawny side. With infinite patience, the ex-cop approached his target; who sat in a stool with a drink before him. With a heavy hand, Jet tapped on his shoulder. “Hey bud, can you spot me a smoke?” Sabre turned, and the look he sported was icy cold. “I ain't your bud, and get your hand off my shoulder.” Jet felt a touch of disquiet at the toneless voice, but shook it off with chuckle. “No problem, sorry to bother you pal.” Jet stepped away, lifting his gun in the same motion. “Hands where I can see em' Sabre!” The moment drew out as Sabre lifted his glass, taking a long swallow. He set the glass on the bar with a hollow clunk. Without turning, Sabre tilted his head up, looking at Jet's reflection in the smoky mirror behind the bar. “You a good shot with that thing?” Before Jet had even formulated a response, Sabre was off the stool, weapon in hand. Jet flattened as Sabre fired off three rounds in quick succession. Then, the bounty was out the door, spraying cover fire as he ran. Growling, Jet darted after him, holding close to the walls and keeping his head down.

 

Peering around a corner, he ducked again as three bullets tore the brickwork from the edge of the building. Clenching his teeth, Jet cursed and darted forward, body hunched as he made for the next spot of cover.

 

That spot of cover was already occupied.

 

Jet flinched as he almost ran into the man hanging out in the shadows. “Gah, hey, outta the way!” He growled as he squeezed against the wall. The man merely turned his head, a burning cigarette dangling from his thin lips. “Huh?” He murmured around the burning stick. Jet looked around sharply for his bounty, but the guy seemed to have vanished. “Damn it!” He cursed, kicking the wall with a heavy boot. The other man ignored his outburst, choosing instead to hold out something to the fuming ex-cop. Jet paused his tirade to examine what was being offered him. With a weary smile, he took the proffered cigarette.

 

“Thanks.”

 

The other man only grunted, staring at the smoke that rose from the end of his lips. After a few moments of quiet between them, Jet held out his hand.

 

“Jet Black.”

 

The other man shook his hand firmly. “Spike.”

 

Jet chuckled. “No last name?”

 

Spike smiled a little. “Sometimes.” Crushing his spent cigarette under a heavy shoe, Spike looked over Jet's shoulder. “I think your friend is back.”

 

“Uhh?” Jet turned quickly, spotting Sabre dart across an open patch, making for the landing pad beyond. Jet spit his cigarette onto the ground, hefting his gun. “Damn, of course he's headed for his ship!” Without another word, he ran after his bounty.

 

Sabre's ship was an old-style monopod, revamped with advanced thrusters and boosters. If he reached his ship, Jet would never catch him.

 

The sound of the ship start-up was nearly deafening. Jet squinted as he rounded the corner, receiving the full blast of the ship's lights in his eyes. His quick jump to the side saved his life, but didn't prevent the sudden shot from creasing a line of fire across his thigh. Grunting, Jet pressed against the building, holding his leg with one hand and his gun with the other. Three more shots came his way, chipping masonry from the wall above his head. Crouching, Jet listened. The ship's engine's rose to a new level, and Jet realized it was preparing to take-off. He hefted his gun and darted around the building again. And realized his mistake too late.

 

“Son of a bitch, he had a remote start…”

 

Sabre was right in front of him, gun cocked. As soon as Jet came around the corner, Sabre fired… and missed.

 

Jet ducked instinctively, expecting a bullet, but feeling nothing. He looked up to see Sabre bending over, holding a bleeding hand. His gun lay a few feet behind him on the ground.

 

“What in the hell…?”

 

“Thought you should know, he pulled that same trick on Venus about a year ago.” The voice was behind him, and belonged to…

 

“Spike?”

 

The taller man tucked his gun in his pants and calmly walked up to Sabre. The other man stared, a look in his eyes like he was trying to remember something. Recognition came in a flash.

 

“You're, you're… you were dead! What is this!?”

 

Sabre tried to back away from the advancing Spike, but stumbled over his weapon and landed hard on his backside.

 

Spike looked down at him, flicking the butt of his cigarette into the dark. “You and I have unfinished business.”

 

Sabre shook his head. “No, no way, no way- you're dead!”

 

“You should know the dead always demand their due, Sabre.” Spike grabbed the frightened man by his lapels. “The bounty on you is gonna go a long way towards paying for what you did to me.”

 

Jet stiffened. “Now wait just a minute! This is my bounty!” He limped towards the other two men, gun partially raised.

 

Spike looked over his shoulder. “The way I see it, I'm the one who took this guy down. In fact, you'd be dead if I hadn't stepped in when I did.”

 

Jet fumed. “You obnoxious asshole! I didn't ask for your help, and I didn't need your assistance! Now back off before I arrest both of you!” Jet paused in his tirade as he realized what he'd just said. “Urrrhhh.” He grumbled, rubbing his face with a heavy hand. Finally, he looked up again.

 

“Look, this is ridiculous. I don't feel like spending the night arguing over this scum like two dogs on a bone. What do you say about splitting the bounty?”

 

Spike frowned, then looked off contemplatively. “Hm.”

 

Jet shifted on his wounded leg. “It's still a lot of woolongs, even halved.”

 

Spike sighed, pulling Sabre to his feet. “Yeah, sure, whatever.” As he led the bounty from the landing area, Jet tied a quick knot around his leg with sleeve cut from his jacket. “Great. I'm ready to get off this damn planet!”

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Half an hour later, the two hunters stood outside the ISSP building stationed on the planet. Spike shoved his money card in his pocket after a quick glance. Jet rubbed his balding head. “Thank God that guy's off our hands.” Glancing at the other man, he leaned his arms on a railing, propping one foot up on the lower rail.

 

“You know, you were really good back there. How long you been a bounty hunter anyhow?”

 

Spike flicked open his lighter, holding it to the end of his cigarette till it caught. “About three days.” He answered nonchalantly. Jet started, looking at him in surprise.

 

“Three days? You're kidding!” Shaking his head, he pulled out his own cigarette. They stood in silence for a time, thinking their own thoughts as the blue smoke rose about them. Finally, Jet turned to the other man. “Listen, I don't know a lot about you, other than the fact that you seem to be a crack shot. And you don't know anything about me other than my name…”

 

Spike glanced over. “This is starting to sound like a job offer.”

 

Jet stopped, then smiled slightly. “Heh, yeah, I guess it is.” He turned to face the other man. “Well, what do you say?”

 

Spike blew out a stream of smoke, watching while it faded to nothing in the night air. Finally, he stuck his hands in his pockets. “Sure. I just gotta pick up my mono-racer.”

 

Jet grinned. “Great. My ship is the Bebop. She's at dock twenty-five.”

 

Spike grunted, turning towards the ship port. Then, after about three steps, he stopped. “Hey, uh, Jet?”

 

The older man turned. “Yeah?”

 

“It's just the two of us, right?”

 

Jet's brows pulled together. “Yeah… why?”

 

“No pets?”

 

“No.”

 

“Kids, wife?”

 

“Are you kidding?”

 

Spike turned, smiling. “No problem.”

 

Jet chuckled as he watched he other man stride away. “Welcome aboard kid.”

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Jet frowned at the memories. Now was not the time for reminiscing; now was the time to find out what the hell had happened to his current partner. She was out there somewhere. Someone knew what had happened to her.

 

And, by God, Jet was gonna find that person and beat that knowledge out of them.

 

“I'll find you kid. I promise you that.” Grimly, he crushed his last cigarette and returned to the Bebop.

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A N: Yeah, buncha background stuff again, sorry! However, I swear the next chapter will pick things up again!!