Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Under Pressure ❯ Ch. 2: Howza Bouta Kiss Babe ( Chapter 2 )

Sadly, 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 my chapter headings- they are the product of their authors.

 

Chapter 2: Howza Bouta Kiss Babe (Toy Dolls)

 

Jet stared listlessly at Spike through the steam of his morning coffee, feeling slightly vindicated. By Spike's haggard expression, the lanky cowboy had fared the night equally well.

“Mornin'.”

Glare, “What was Faye doin' last night?”

“Huh?”

“It sounded kind of like she was buffing something, she get an automatic nail file or...” frown, “An electric razor?” Scowl, “One of those file things that scrapes rough skin off?” He glared at the floor, “A tiny vacuum for dust bunnies?”

“What?” The only nail file Jet had seen the woman use was made of emery. Spike should know she didn't have an electric razor because the day before he'd spent a good chunk of the afternoon grumbling about her using his razor to shave her legs. From what he could recall Faye preferred pumice stones to remove calluses and for dust bunnies, Faye just swept all the crap on her floor out into the hallway, she didn't believe in vacuuming. He scowled, he knew way too much about her preferences for their relationship to be normal.

Snarl, “All fucking night.” He twitched, “What the hell's her problem? She scaly with nails made of steel?! I mean, it's got to take a lot to keep all the dragon attributes hidden, but Judas Fucking Priest!” He slopped coffee as he dropped the mug on the counter, “She kept talking too!”

Jet's eyebrow quirked, Spike had to be playing stupid. There was no way the cowboy was this naïve.

“Quit smirking.” Another irritated spasm. “She pulls that again tonight and it'll be the last.”

Grin. He was a big boy and he'd been hurt worse than Faye could inflict. Especially if she was indisposed doing `research' for her second job. It had been an interesting choice of employment. Actually, it had shocked the hell out of him when she came back from a rather bizarre take-down at a sex shop with crutches and a new job as a sales clerk. He had to give her credit. She'd done remarkably well keeping the stable income from Spike, considering she went several times a week. Those few days she put in at the store had given them enough money to keep Spike medicated, Ed and Ein fed, and Faye off the ship and busy -she had a tendency to worry and fuss with nothing to do; which saved him a bundle in aspirin purchases. He'd nearly had a self induced aneurism just to get some peace and quiet before her employment at Hedone Mercantile.

“Spike, I'd let it go.” Shrug, “She was probably workin'.” The missing batteries suddenly made sense. If Spike had taken them the smokes would've disappeared too. He sighed. There must have been a new shipment- suddenly glad he and Ed slept on the other side of the ship from the pair Jet decided the day was looking up.

“Workin' on what?”

Jet shrugged.

“Stop grinning.” Spike snarled, “There is nothing to be chipper about.”

“Good morning.”

Jet gave Faye a nod.

She yawned, “Sleep well?”

“Better `n Spike apparently.” Blue eyes twinkled.

Her bottom lip slipped out in mock pity, “Ahh… bad dreams?”

“What the hell were you doing last night?”

Frown, “Excuse me?”

Jet snickered at the rising blush spreading across her chest and racing for her hairline.

“What was that noise?”

Blink. “What noise?”

Growl, “What were you doing last night?”

Shrug accompanied with a nervous titter, “Sleeping?”

“Bull.”

The blush darkened, “I… I…I do-n't know what you're talking about.”

Jet choked on his coffee, earning a mortified glare from the cowgirl.

“GOOD morning Bebop crew!” Ahh. Faye visibly relaxed, saved by the Ed. The teen twirled around the fuming cowboy, “Why does Spike-person look like he drank one of Ed's special juices?”

“I didn't.”

She froze and gasped, “That was an experiment! Spike-person!” she scowled, “Ed had labeled it just like Papa Jet said to.” She spun on the older cowboy and whined, “Why did Papa Jet let Lunkhead Spike drink Ed's creation and not take notes?!”

It was Spike's turn to blink, “Eh… why would Jet need to take notes?”

Golden eyes squinted, “Why is Spike-person worried if he did not drink Ed's juice?”

Damn, that kid had spent too much time listening to him and Faye argue. Shrug, “Didn't. Just curious.”

She studied the cowboy closely, “Ed will know if you've taken a sip.” Her head tilted sideways, “There will be…” grin, “Side effects.” Giggle, “Nasty side effects.” Nod. “Ein doggy threw up on Papa Jet's paper when Ed gave him some juice.”

Said dog padded into the room and flopped painfully across the floor.

“Ed.” Jet glared at the drooling dog. “What was in the juice?”

She blinked at him as though trying to decide if he were kidding or brain damaged. Unsure she clicked her tongue before replying with a shrug, “Barf syrup.”

Faye snorted, “Where the hell'd you get ipecac from?”

Jet groaned, “I had some on hand. Remember when Ed and Ein got into that eat everything off the floor fix and chewed up a few of Spike's pain pills?”

Nod.

“Right.” He frowned at Faye's lack of concern, “Well it worried me so I bought some, you know, just in case.”

Spike grinned, “Jet. Ed only ate one, if that.”

Blink, “But… but the whole…”

“I was mobile,” grin, “I hurt, so I self medicated. Faye knew, wonder why she didn't…” Ed giggled, her experimental juice on hand, “Faye-Faye said Ed had the flu when Papa Jet thought Ed had eaten Spike's forbidden tic-tacs.”

Spike scanned the room, “Where is Faye?”

Ed tipped onto her toes, “At work.”

“Huh?” Spike's glare swiveled to Jet's back, “Why's Faye out on a bounty without me?”

Ed grinned, “Faye-Faye's not…”

Jet froze, “Drop it Ed.” He turned to the frowning hacker, “Go flush that.” He shook his head, wondering how much the teen knew- one could never be too careful with her.

“But…”

Jet's voice took on a threatening tone, “Now.” He glanced at Spike still waiting for an answer. “It's not a bounty.”

Eyebrow quirk, “What is it then?”

“Faye-Faye sells…” Ed's giggle floated back, “things.” Jet rubbed his face, apparently Ed had done some research. “She's a merchandise expert at a little… uh…” the flapping feet stilled, “…uh…” Both men shared a glance; they could hear the gears turning. “Oh yeah, at a little novelty shop on Tethys.” The split-splat resumed just before a hatch opened and closed.

Ein whined.

“Huh?”

Grin, “Faye's been workin' at a nearby shop since we've been in orbit. It pulls in enough to keep food on the table.”

“But she helped me pull in a bounty two nights ago.”

“Yup. She's a busy girl.”

Spike's eyes narrowed, “Why do I get the feeling you're editing?”

Jet's shoulders jerked just before he slipped out the door, leaving the cranky cowboy to mull over the latest discovery. Being doped up and bed ridden for six months really knocks a guy out of the loop- but it explained the logoed polo shirt and short skirt.

Ein produced a disturbing gagging noise, coughed and yakked.

“Ergh.” He glared at the dog, “Clean it up.”

Ein's head rolled sideways.

Spike crossed his arms, “I have to clean up after myself when I hurl.”

The dog produced a pathetic whimper and waddled off.

Deciding to leave the puppy present for Jet; or better yet, Faye; Spike stepped over the puddle and sulked off to find what had produced the disturbance from the night before.

He grinned when her door opened without resistance. Deciding there was nothin' like complacency he snickered. The space was surprisingly clean, he glanced at the small bureau covered in various bottles of feminine beautification and scowled. There was nothing electrical. No pedicure kit, or razor, heck he would have been satisfied with one of those sonic toothbrushes. What was it then? He rifled through her drawers, pleased to have an opportunity to add a little chaos to Faye's retreat. He tried to ignore the images and lascivious grin that kept creeping across his face whenever he found one of her more effeminate articles of underclothing. Disturbed with the current road his thoughts had decided to veer, he slapped the dresser closed and studied the room. His eyes slit, Hmmm… If I was Faye where would I hide an obnoxiously noisy something or other? Brown eyes took in the slightly rumpled comforter. Curious he wandered towards the bed, wrenching the side table's drawer out. Nothing. The only things of interest a book on the research of some man named Alfred Kinsey, a substantial stash of batteries, pack of his smokes and the silver lighter that had disappeared long before his `accident'. With a snarl he retrieved the miss placed articles and snapped the drawer back home. Pulling out a smoke he opened the drawer and studied the short, brightly colored cylinders. What does Faye need with so many batteries?

He exhaled. Growing bored with hide-and-seek, he checked under her mattress and pillows, rummaged through her closet, and out of principal, rearranged her carefully ordered bottles of perfumes, lotions and powders; before skulking off to grump about his paltry detective skills.

Jet's grunt drifted around the crack in the bonsai room's door. Curious Spike nudged it open and grinned. The ex-cop was hunched over the workbench absorbed in a magazine. Catching a peek at an oddly positioned foot. After a quick scan to verify Jet was only `reading the articles', Spike cleared his throat and chuckled when the older man started. The jostle had him dropping the illicit reading material, centerfold open. He stood hastily while trying to grab the incriminating evidence.

A clunky boot attached to a smug smirk held the periodical in place.

“You act like you're twelve and just got caught with a…” he glanced at the image under his toe, “Oh you did get caught with one.” His head tipped to get a more appropriate angle as he snickered, “Jet!” the leer grew, “I'm shocked. What if Ed or Faye finds this?!”

He ripped the trapped journal free, “Faye knows.”

“Hmm… You should get the video feed from her at the bar then.” Grin, “Right along the lines of,” his head bobbed towards the crumpled booklet, “that.”

“I tried, she had Ed erase the tape as soon as she came home.” Grin, “Guess she was afraid you'd use it.”

“If Faye's so worried about that stuff, what did she do when she caught you with some?”

Jet smoothed the crumbled pages and tucked it away under his largest bonsai, “She bought this for me.”
“What?”

Shrug, “She saw it at work and thought I'd get a kick out of it.” He glanced at his partner, “The articles are actually pretty well written and the images, well done.”

Spike felt a shiver of discomfort tingle up his spine, “That's gross.”

“Huh?” Scowl, “Why?” He stood, “You've got all those racer magazines you keep hidden in that damn stash under your bed. How is this any different?” He shot an enraged index finger towards his stash, “Talk about the pot callin' the kettle.”

Spike shook his head, “It's not the magazine, it's how you got it.” His eyes narrowed, “What's Faye doin' buying you smut?” He dug for a smoke, “It's just wrong…”

“Ed found a few of your periodicals and Faye caught me flippin' through them after I took `em from that damned kid.” Shrug, “Guess she thought it'd be funny.”

Spike flicked his lighter, his expression screaming: uncomfortable.

Snort, “You act like I imagine her in place of…” he ripped one of the magazines from the stash and flipped it open, “this.” Snicker, “Sorry Spike, Faye half naked and sprawled across one of the monopods doesn't…” He lost his train at Spike's awkward shift. On a new track, he grinned, “I take it you have?”

“Have what?!” Twitch. Oops. Spike hated it when Jet decided to be observant and quick. He cringed internally, that defensive question would have the Black Dog's instincts on high alert. Jet's eyes narrowed, he smelled a lead.

In an attempt to steer the conversation back to solid ground Spike bumbled on, “Isn't she like… uh… well,” he rubbed his head, “A sister to you or something?”

Blink. Derailed again, “No. If anything she's just one of the guys.” Chuckle, “Granted, she cleans up better `n most, but still, not my type.”

Spike nodded, “Yeah, I know your type and it's definitely not a half dressed, full of vinegar and curvy.”

Jet snubbed his cigarette, “Whatever.” He glanced at his magazines' hiding place, “I think she did it to make me squeal.” Grin, “She's been a bit bored since you've been down and out, so Ed and I became her targets.”

“And?” Spike tapped out a smoke.

“Sadly, she failed.” Shrug, “Guess you're the only one she can really piss off.” He grabbed his scissors and began trimming his trees, “That or she was just being nice.”

“Pff… Didn't take you for that kind of kink.”

Jet grinned, “Takes all kinds.” Chuckle, “Not all of us go for leggy tomboys in lingerie sprawled across a beat up monoracer.” The scissors stilled, “Find anything to perk your interest as you rummaged through her drawers?”

Glare, “Ha. Ha.”

Point, Jet. “So tell me what happened the other night when you two took down Mac Desviade and Nena Anat? Since getting Ed to dig up the security video isn't an option.”

Spike settled against the door jamb, satisfied he was again on comfortable terrain. The capture two nights ago had been one of the more interesting adventures since he'd been back to bounty hunting form. He had met Faye at a tiny bar on the outskirts of Rhea. A common watering hole for the after clubbing set. Comfortable in their corner booth, she had pointed subtly at the pair when they sauntered in. Mac draped possessively over Nena, they settled in a table nearby. Testing the waters, Faye had sashayed past. The high, “I'm lookin' to get fucked” heels, and short skirt drew quite a bit of attention, especially when she leaned into the bar to order some obscenely named drink. Spike had shamefully stared as the tiny swatch of cloth crept closer to the curve of her rear. Drink in hand and tripping sloppily on the way back she plopped on the bench and slid close to him. Sure enough, the couple eyed her happily as they spoke in hushed tones. Spike smirked, when the man rose. They had taken the bait.

Mac grinned as he settled across from Nena. He jerked his shiny head towards Faye, “You let her play around?”

Faye giggled sounding bubbly, stupid and drunk.

Spike quirked a brow, “Depends on with whom.” Grin, “You? Hell no.” His head bounced to the buxom blonde, “Your girl,” he took a languid sip as he carefully scanned the woman for weapons, “I wouldn't mind.” He glanced at Faye, “Would you?”

She giggled.

The bounty's head bobbed appreciatively.

Faye tittered and pressed against Spike's side, his arm draped around the back of the booth- he hated it when Jet made them play a couple.

“Really Spiky?” She fingered a button as she cooed, “You won't mind?”

He repressed the need to distance himself and nodded, his hand unconsciously gripping the cracked and peeling upholstery. Chuckle, “Go for it. You've been checkin' her out since they got here. Have some fun, Faye.”

The woman behind her squealed happily.

Spike grinned at the flash of worry that slipped across Faye's face. She hadn't been thrilled with the plan and now that she'd have to perform before a live audience she was even less inclined to follow through. Catching her reluctance he leaned close, “Enjoy yourself, sweetheart.” Wink, “You know I do.” And gave her forehead a soft kiss.

The slight twitch and sudden blinking forced a smug smirk to cement onto his face. He watched as her features set, she turned and let the girl have it. The bounty's appreciative gasp drawing the attention of the other patrons surrounding the booth.

Mac snickered, “Wow. No foreplay, huh?”

Someone in the peanut gallery breathed, “Damn.”

Nena's hands had slipped to Faye's back in an attempt to pull her closer. Faye's still on the woman's cheek. Spike grinned as he watched Faye's hands slip lower, one drifting behind her back. He chuckled at the rattle of metal. Desviade leaned onto the table a pleased, unfocussed grin gracing his features. He sighed, “I love it when Nena finds a pretty girl to play with.” He winked at Spike, “Keeps things interesting at home, you know?”

Spike's head waggled, he knew what the pair did to keep their sex lives interesting. The two had earned their sizeable bounties by luring unsuspecting couples away, where they would take turns torturing and mutilating their victims before tossing the bodies out into space. A high ranking member of ISSP had the displeasure of collecting the mangled remains of his daughter and her idiot date from the scattered debris around Earth a few months prior. When the bodies had been found and processed, the couple had bounced from decent bounties to one of the highest rewards in the solar system. Currently they were third and fourth on ISSP's top ten.

Spike's thoughts returned to the current situation when Faye moaned, causing both marks to shift appreciatively.

Spike scowled, it wasn't a pleased vocalization, more like dissatisfied grumbling. Muted cussing, and if he'd heard correctly Faye was not a happy decoy.

Nena's hands drifted to Faye's chest. Through playing, Faye caught one of the invasive appendages and yanked it to her lap. Assuming she wanted something a little more adventurous, soft fingers slid under the tight skirt. Spike snorted at Faye's stiffening posture. He watched as she calmly clicked the cuff over the distracted woman's wrist, shifted her weight to force Nena back, the bounty's leg drifting up to coral Faye. Uncomfortable, Faye snagged the woman's free hand. Instantly the bounty was bound, her boyfriend digging at his eyes. Spike watched as Faye set her drink back on the table, forced the girl off the bench, eliciting a pained yelp when bottom roughly met flooring. Satisfied mark one was incapacitated, she slipped around the booth and effectively trussed up Desviade. Pleased with her well done job, she dusted off her hands, sent Spike a victorious smirk and disappeared- he could only assume to wash her mouth out. Her gloating expression was tainted with an air of discomfort and disgust.

She returned minty fresh.

Spike snickered, “What'd you do, drink that mouthwash in your purse?”

Smile, “After I rinsed several times with the peroxide. Yes.”

He swiped at the bit of foam clinging to her lip, “Missed some.” Grinning at the nervous flush that enflamed her cheeks he wiped his finger off on his pants. Vainly Faye tried to keep eye contact, green quickly shifting to over his shoulder when his smirk grew the more evident her discomfort became.