Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Stew ❯ All for a Dead Duck ( Chapter 9 )

Spike and Faye stepped out of the Bebop with a spring to their step, secretly happy about their private time together....even if it was just to buy groceries.

They had taken extra ammo just in case they were met with anything threatening - after the crash, both were pretty paranoid. As they walked, Faye's right arm would gently brush Spike's left, and they both noticed it.

He's not moving away. That's a good sign.

She hasn't yelled at me. Maybe she wants me to...

Spike swung his hand a little more angled towards her until their pinkies linked "accidentally." Without allowing her time to think, he took her hand in his and kept his stare ahead, acting as if it were no big deal.

Faye half-blushed, but with the sunset, painting everything a fiery red color, it wouldn't have been visible.

When they got to a decent-looking general store, Spike stopped to drop his cigarette on the ground and snuff it out with his toe. He let go of her hand when they walked into the store and grabbed a dented, metal shopping cart that had definitely seen its days.

Faye couldn't help but shake her head as she watched him select the most expensive, grotesque-sounding foods and pile them into the cart. Although she was usually somewhat of a glutton, she backed off so Spike could have enough money to pay for the foods he bought. Some cans and jars, however, after close examination, were just so disgusting that she HAD to replace them. She put them back, wrinkling her nose at the worst one, labeled, "Aged Pickled Chipmunk Feet."

When Spike had finally finished, she grabbed some nearby products to shop-lift and joined him at the check-out counter. At a nearby table lay ancient oddities, strange toys, old newspapers, etc, under a huge sign that said "CLEARANCE!!!" A particular one caught Spike's eye, and he picked it up to examine it.

It was a sort of rectangular box with a cylindrical black tube coming out of the center. Half a canvas strap hung on by some threads. He was tempted to take it apart, but knew he'd have to pay for it if he did. Bringing it over to the clerk, he asked, "Hey, how much is this piece of junk?"

"That would be two woolong. We're trying to get rid of that stuff."

"TWO woolong?!? That - mrph!" Spike covered Faye's mouth with his hand.

"That's pretty steep."

"What??? It's only two!"

"Yeah, but this thing - whatever it is - probably isn't even worth one woolong." Spike tossed it between his hands, as if debating to purchase it.

"Well, son, I'll make a deal with you. If you buy it for two woolong, I'll lead you to an old man who knows what it was used for."

Spike looked at him suspiciously. "Okay, but if I don't find him, I'm coming back to stir up some trouble."

He gave the man an innocent smile.

"I'll take it. Would you, by any chance, at least know what it's called?"

Faye frowned and took the thing out of Spike's hand as the cashier rang up the rest of the groceries.

*What in the world does he want THIS for?*

A wave of nausea crashed down on her and she stumbled backward, slumping against a wall.

**********************flashback**********************

"My dear girl. Faye, look at mommy....there. You're so pretty in your new dress!"

She runs around the area. Warm sun, slight breeze. The smell of green. A blanket on the grass, a basket on the ground.

A man scoops her in his arms and twirls her about.

"Princess Faye, they all want you! They all want you because you're beautiful...." he sang, making up the lyrics as he went along.

A female voice. "Smile for the camera, honey!"

Faye beamed at the camera, still in her father's arms.

"Cheese!"

*Click.*

**********************end flashback**********************

"It's a camera," she and the clerk both said at the same time. Spike turned around in surprise to see Faye sitting on the floor against the wall.

"Faye? You alright?" He helped her up and steadied her, then paid the cashier.

"Okay, the old man lives about 20 miles down the hill in the southeast direction. It's a small white shack, the only thing out there."

Spike mumbled a thanks and supported Faye with one hand as he pushed the cart with the other. When they got back, Faye had totally recovered, and although she was shaken by remembering her parents, she managed to push it out of her mind.

Spike dropped off the bags and tossed the cart into a cactus patch. He then took the 'camera' and headed towards the ship's garage.

"Faye, I'm going to go look for that old man. Wanna come?"

"Sure," she shrugged. "There's nothing else to do, anyway."

Spike smiled an awkward, sideways little grin as she climbed in next to her.

"You're such a bad liar."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The old, dusty shack was almost rotting off its hinges. Nonetheless, they knocked and waited a few minutes before being answered with a hoarse but diminutive, "Hello? Who's there?"

When introductions were through and they found themselves seated in the remains of couches from a century ago, the old man examined the device and said simply, "It's a camera. Old, old, machine. Hasn't been used since, oh, roughly 2010. It takes pictures of things, images frozen in time."

Spike's interest was peaked now. "How does it make these pictures?"

"Well, when you press this button, the camera takes a shot of what you see through this viewfinder and records it onto a film roll -"

He checked to see if there was any film inside and was surprised to see a half-used roll sitting patiently in its proper niche.

He started a long story about how he used to be a photographer and droned on for hours. Spike and Faye fell asleep. When Faye finally awoke, she looked at a cracked clock hanging crookedly on a far wall. Jumping up, she screamed, "Dammit!" and shook Spike awake.

It was nearly eleven at night. Spike rubbed his eyes wearily and asked the old man, "Is that clock right?"

"Eh....it's about an our and a half fast. Anyway, what I was saying -"

"Well, we gotta go, it's late!" Faye grabbed the camera and Spike and dashed out of there before he could resume.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~

---Outside the Bebop---

"God, I thought he'd never shut up."

Spike tinkered with the camera and shot a sideways shot aimed at Faye.

"Whoops."

You're not a great liar, either, she thought to herself.

"Here, lemme see that," Faye said as she took it.

"Look, there's a timer....maybe it still works."

She pressed a button and set the camera down on a nearby rock, then rushed over to Spike and put her arm around his shoulders. The camera blinked slowly at first, then faster, then stopped, flashing a two-second long beam of light at them.

Just before it took the picture, Faye wrapped both her arms around Spike's neck and kissed him. Hard.

He couldn't contain his surprise.

"What.....why'd.....did -"

Faye laughed. Spike shot her a sexy smile.

"Is THAT what this thing is for?" he said, getting up and pressing the same button on the camera.

Julia was never fun like this. She was always so melodramatic, always wanting to be the perfect girlfriend. The blank-minded pushover. Serious and un-demanding. But never fun.

The roll was used up all too soon. Spike regretted not asking for more film at the store. As Faye walked toward the steps to go inside, he saw she was cold, and offered her his jacket. She took it willingly, resisting the natural urge to steal anything in his pockets.

She gave him a warm, tired smile and ascended the stairs. Stopping on the top one, she looked down at him.

"Good-night kiss?" she asked with feigned innocence. He didn't need to be asked twice.

Leaving her lips tingling with a lingering kiss, he saw her to her room and quietly headed back out, tiptoeing because everyone else was asleep.

He walked all twenty miles back to the shack and came in to find the man still talking. He rolled his eyes.

"Is there any chance you could turn this into pictures for me?"

The old geezer looked up.

"Well, it's gonna cost ya."

"How much?"

"Hmm...." he pondered, looking around his shambled living room. Finally, his eyes rested on a stuffed mallard duck whose green feathers had fallen out.

"Well, if you'll give me a half-inch of your hair all around your head, I'll do it."

"Oh God." Spike reached a hand up to his tuft of flaxen emerald hair.

The old man approached him with a pair of rusty, mean-looking scissors.

"Deal?"

Spike sighed.

"Deal."

He held back a whimper as he felt his head getting lighter.

Damn. The things I do for that woman....

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~

A/N: Thank you guys *SO* much for all the reviews! I had a National History Day paper to do along with the rough draft of my science project paper, but I put it aside after I saw how many of you reviewed. ^_^ Next chapter will hold the first major conflict of this fic. *cough*JULIA!*cough* ^_- Until then!