Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Under Pressure ❯ Ch. 6: A Girl Like You ( Chapter 6 )

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 6: A Girl Like You (Edwin Collins)

 

Faye slapped another bandage across her shredded knees. Spike's attempt to save her from a tumble down the stairs had scuffed up her legs and banged up her hip. She swiped off another patch of drying blood. Her lip curling at the purpling splotch framing the wrap on her kneecap. She'd be sore in the morning. Grumping she yanked her quilt over her head, burrowing lower. She grinned, Spike had actually looked concerned. She sat up, quilt clutched tightly around her.

Had she imagined it? She hoped not. She scowled when she bumped one of the contusions littering her shin. Then again… getting tossed across the floor defeats any retarded romantic gestures that may or may not have crossed her stair stumble savior's mind. Deciding sleep was not an option she grumped out of her room to grab a sandwich and watch some mind numbing television. She just wasn't in the mood to see what swag H.M. wanted her to test- the new uniform for the upcoming sale was bad enough.

 

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Ed tripped past the lounge and doubled back. Faye was sprawled across the couch, an assortment of band-aids littering her legs. She scowled and crept closer. “Spike-person sucks as a knight in shining armor.”

Ein wuffed softly.

Ed studied the softly grumbling woman, a bottle of something forbidden and a half eaten sandwich within reach. She slithered closer, grinning while Ein helped himself to the food. She poked a speckled leg, “Faye-Faye.”

The leg was pulled away as the body turned into the couch.

“Faye-Faye.” She hoped over the arm of the couch and landed on her favorite cowgirl.

Grunt. “Fuck off, Ed.”

The teen gasped, “Not nice, Faye-Faye!” She plopped forcefully down on the unguarded hip.

“Ergh! ED!”

Snicker. “Did Faye-Faye know Spike person tried to hug her when he saved her from head planting down the stairs?”

She rolled onto her back, “No he didn't Ed.”

Another aggressive bounce punctuated every word, “Yes. He. Did!”

The booze and crappy sandwich protested the violent treatment. With a rough push Ed found herself sprawling across the floor. “That's mean!”

“So's usin' my gut as a trampoline.”

Ed sat up and huffed.

Faye sighed, rolling to upright. “What'd you want?”

“Oh!” Grin, “Papa Jet is taking Ed to Prometheus so she can ride the big rides,” Ed crawled closer, “Will Faye-Faye come?”

Frown, “I can't, kid.”

The dreaded lip slipped out.

Faye flipped it, “I've got work.”

“But Ed will need help,” citrine eyes darted around the room, her voice the smallest whisper, “James will be there.”

“You plan this?”

Nod.

Faye giggled, suddenly very awake. “Does Jet know?”

She twisted the hem of her shirt, “Uh…” blink, “no.”

“How would me coming help? You just need to spend time with him.” She dug for a cigarette, “Shit, you two swap enough messages back and forth while you're diving…”

“But James does not see Ed!” she whined, “He just knows how Ed thinks.”

Snort, “So he loves you for your mind, it shouldn't matter what you look like.”

Ed pinked, not amused with Faye's commentary. She continued shifting. “Can't Faye-Faye help Ed look… uh…”

Blink, “There's nothin' wrong with you, just remember to take a bath and brush your teeth.”

“But…”

Sigh, “Ed you'll be fine. Just be yourself. He already likes you…”

“But…”

Faye was finished listening. Tired of trying to appease a hormonal teen, she snubbed her smoke and returned to a reclined position on the couch. Her knees pressed against the yellow back.

Ed stomped, “Faye-Faye!”

“Good night, Ed.”

 

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Spike flipped his towel over his shoulders and drifted down the hall. Ed had scurried off to parts unknown, giving him a free pass to his room and the shower. He was sick of her incessant game of needle the cowboy. He had never been a pin cushion and the teen's attempts to irk his ire were wearing thin, his outburst that morning was proof. He snickered, she'd been lucky Jet had stopped him. Even luckier that he'd decided to let Jet stop him because unlike Faye; he would have tied the brat upside down in a small space. Maybe a few hours bouncing around one of the tightly packed storage closets would mellow her out. He stilled, knowing Ed she'd probably get a kick out of it and end up retaliating in some abnormally offensive way.

“Damn kid.”

Jet's snort stilled his progress. “You're chicken shit, you know that?”

Spike bumped the door open and glared at his partner's back, if it wasn't Ed it was Jet's unwelcomed, accurate observations.

“You heard me,” he continued clipping branches. “I'm takin' Ed on a bounty tomorrow.”

He shrugged, “And?”

“And we won't be back for a while.” He set the sheers down and turned, a pleased grin and happy glint broadcasting he was thrilled.

Spike snorted, “You just want a vacation.”

“Yup. Been plannin' this for a while.” Chuckle, “We'll be on Prometheus for a bit. You and Faye'll need to hold down the fort.”

“What's to hold down?”

Shrug, “Keep things running.” He dug for a smoke, “Water the plants, feed the dog. That kind of thing.”

“Maybe I'll just head out too.”

Jet grinned, “No can do.”

“Huh?”

A disturbing snap tore through the small space, “Because you're missing your ignition chip.”

“Was that the one Doohan nearly skinned me for?!”

“Yup.” It wasn't. But Spike didn't need to know.

“Shit.” He glared at one of the bonsais, horticulture homicide weighing heavily on his mind.

“You touch one of my plants and I won't give you the replacement.”

An eyebrow rose. A small grin tugging at his lip. He shrugged.

Jet took a drag, “You won't find where it's hidden either.” A satisfied stream of grey escaping on his exhale.

The grin grew to a smirk. He knew Jet's hiding spots just as well as Faye, if not better.

Jet puffed, “It isn't under my bonsai, in my toolbox, the air vent, box in the fridge or the bag of peas.”

“Hn…”

Jet blew a victory smoke ring- quite certain he'd finally gotten the upper hand on the two.

Spike watched him and snickered, “You hid it behind the outlet in your bedroom.”

Jet choked mid-inhalation.

“By the way,” chuckle, “You need to resupply your smokes.”

“Dammit.” He glared at the cowboy, “Locks don't work with you guys. Is anything sacred?”

Spike pretended to think. “My alcohol. My smokes. My… Hmm…”

Jet nodded, “Got it.” He grinned, “Good thing I removed the O2 sensor as well, isn't it?” His eyes narrowed, “And it's going with me to Prometheus.” He repressed the urge to spit out his tongue and gloat.

“Jet, you suck.”

“No taking the RedTail either, Faye needs it for work or you'll run out of food.”

Spike scowled, he still wasn't sure what she did at the novelty shop. Whatever she sold it kept Jet supplied with magazines and Ed snickering. He dug at his head a small thought taking root. Could it be? It would account for the occasional `product research'.

Jet grinned at the flicker of comprehension that flashed across the younger cowboy's face. “Yup. She works in one of `those' shops.”

Spike lit up, “That explains it.”

Jet stood, cracking his back. “Well, I need to pack and make sure Ed's set everything up.” He herded Spike out the door and engaged the lock. “That kid's up to something, I just don't know what.” He checked the handle, hoping beyond hope Spike wouldn't take his revenge out on the helpless flora.

“When isn't she planning something?”

Shrug.

Snort, “Enjoy the slots old man.”

He sniggered, “Oh I plan on it.”

 

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Ed had not been happy with Faye's womanly advice. She'd seen some of the pictures in Jet and Spike's coffee table appropriate magazines, had even read a few of Faye's. She looked nothing like the women spread across the pages. She tugged at her shirt again, Faye looked like the models. At least some of them in the racer magazines she'd come across. She grinned, if Faye looked like the girls in the magazines; that would mean she had the supplies to help Ed look similarly. With a devious little smirk she crept into the cowgirl's room. Eyeing the top of the dresser with pleased little dance. She boogied her way towards the numerous bottles, potions and other enticingly female supplies. Wiggly fingers reached for a pretty, glass vial.

“Ahem.”

The teen jumped, knocking several bottles to the floor.

Faye's eyebrow quirked, “Can I help you?”

“Uh…”

Sigh, “Ed, what do you want?”

“Eh… Ed… Uh…”

“Uh…” she leaned forward, “Doesn't tell me what you want, Ed."

Nerves getting the better of her Ed began replacing the knocked over items, “Please help Ed be a girl like Faye.”

She glared at the nervous teen before drifting to her bed. “Didn't we already have this discussion last night?” She watched Ed's nervous movements, well aware that the girl was no longer the gangly kid that had collected them two years ago. She was a young woman, and even though the two cowboys didn't see it, she was starting to look like one.

“Please, Faye.”

With a sigh she collected what she needed, signaling Ed to settle on the bed.

She held up a silver tube, “We've talked about keeping clean right?”

Nod. She reached for the tantalizing cylinder, “What's that?”

Grin, “Part of your girly arsenal.” She eased closer, “Hold still.”