Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction / Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Once More, With Pirates ❯ Bloodsport ( Chapter 13 )

A/N: I need to give kudos to Heist again. She's the one who introduced me to Sneaker Pimps. And their song “Bloodsport” is just so appropriate. I managed to insert two more “dares” into this chapter. And yes, one of them is to introduce a Mary Sue. Gee, can ya figure out which one it is? Oh, come on! Havoc needs love, too!

 

Chapters: 13

Word Count, This Chapter: 3101

Word Count Total: 38,102

Words Left: 11,898

 

Dares: 6

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bloodsport

 

Sex and love is not a game; A game is something you can win; Maybe something kind of fun; Cause love is just a blood sport son - Sneaker Pimps (Bloodsport)

 

 

“This isn't a singles bar, Jean,” Hughes said. “It's the lounge of a—“ he looked around Ten-Forward, awe robbing his normally extensive vocabulary of anything that had more than a couple syllables. “—really big ship.”

 

He'd deliberately taken a seat with his back to the enormous observation ports after an uncertain moment when they'd first entered, and he got a clear look at the rapidly shifting stars. Flying in the Hammerhead with Jet was nerve wracking enough, although he admitted he enjoyed the hell out of it. He also knew it didn't make much sense that flying in a rattle-trap like the Hammerhead bothered him less than flying smoothly through space. But then he'd think about everything that could go wrong. Needless to say, the ports stayed covered in the guest suite. It made it easier to stop thinking about what could go wrong.

 

For now though, he was being entertained by Havoc, who was seriously on the prowl. He couldn't blame him. It had to be difficult to be a young, attractive, single man working in the shadow of the legendary Roy Mustang. The man's reputation met him at every station, too. Havoc didn't stand a chance back home. Unfortunately, it appeared that he wasn't going to have any luck here, either. The women were either too alien, or too smart to fall for the man's often cheesy pick-up lines. Jean Havoc was a good man, with a good heart, but he was an acquired taste.

 

After `buying' several drinks for several different women (which didn't actually require anything that remotely looked like money anyway), and being shot down by all of them, Havoc was moping, and picking at what was left of his pasta.

 

Hughes glanced down at his own plate, and realized he was doing much the same. As exciting as all this was, he would much rather be at home with his wife and daughter. It had only been about a day and a half since he took off to meet Jet at Mustang's ancestral home, but it suddenly felt like years since he'd seen Gracia's smiling face, or heard Elicia's bubbly giggles. He sighed, and realized he'd lost his appetite, as well.

 

He was also beginning to worry about Roy again. He was taking a rather long time to just clean up. Hughes was beginning to think he might have read his friend wrong, and that was alarming. He decided to give it a few more minutes. He's probably chatting up some pretty woman he met on the way, he thought. There certainly are enough of them here. He was going to give it just five more minutes, then he was going to go looking for him.

 

Havoc perked up, and Hughes glanced back over his shoulder to see what caught the man's attention. The Counselor was approaching their table with a smile. “Do you gentlemen mind if I join you?” she asked.

 

Hughes went on automatic pilot, instantly. He felt the heat build on his face, and he nervously ran his hand through his hair. “Oh, thank you for the compliment, but you see, I'm married and have a beautiful little girl.”

 

He felt a sudden, sharp pain on his shin. He glared at Havoc, and bit back an expletive. The Lieutenant just grinned and gestured to an empty seat.

 

Troi tried unsuccessfully to hide her amusement as she sat down. “It's quite alright, Lieutenant Colonel,” she said mildly. “I was just curious about how you were doing. I'm sure this is all quite overwhelming.”

 

“Actually, most of what we've experienced so far can be done with alchemy, Counselor,” Mustang said, as he joined them. He took a look at what remained on the other men's plates and smiled slightly. “I see you took my advice.”

 

“It seemed prudent,” Hughes said. “Since neither of us knows what Gagh is.”

 

Troi ducked her head slightly, but not before Hughes caught the amusement she was trying to hide. “So how do you feel after your experience with it, Colonel?” she asked.

 

“Roy, please,” Mustang said, as he leaned forward. “And I'm quite fine. Just a little indigestion was all. I've eaten rations on the battlefield, Counselor, I can survive Gagh.”

 

“Call me Deanna, Roy.”

 

Hughes just decided to sit back and watch from that point. It had been quite awhile since he'd seen the legendary Mustang charm. It was a thing of beauty, in his opinion. The man's entire demeanor softened. The slight smile, and half-closed, sleepy-eyed look he'd perfected took years off the man's face, and removed all traces of the battle-hardened soldier. It created an air of vulnerability women couldn't seem to resist.

 

He also knew Havoc didn't stand a chance, either. He hadn't missed the silent challenge those two had made on the bridge when they first met the pretty Counselor. But a brow shot up when he noticed that Havoc wasn't rising to the bait. In fact, the man seemed more intent on what was left of his dinner, than flirting with Deanna. It was bizarre behavior from the usually brash Lieutenant, and disturbing.

 

That was, until Havoc glanced up at him, and gave him an amused and knowing look. Hughes knew then something was up. This is going to get interesting, he thought.

 

Guinan arrived with a plate for Mustang and an extremely decadent-looking confection for Troi. He could see ice cream somewhere under the rich, brown sauce that smothered it; but what the sauce was, he had no clue. All he knew was that it smelled quite mouth-watering.

 

“I see you survived your first encounter with Gagh,” she said to Mustang.

 

The Colonel smiled, and chuckled softly. “I did, Guinan. I understand that Mr. Spiegel and Fullmetal didn't fare quite as well, though.”

 

“Let's just say, they experienced the typical after effects,” she said with gentle humor.

 

Hughes looked from Guinan, to Mustang, and caught the growing amusement on Troi's face as well. “I don't suppose someone would care to tell me; just what is Gagh?” he asked.

 

Guinan turned to Mustang, looking a bit surprised. “You haven't regaled your compatriots with the story, yet?”

 

“It didn't seem like proper dinner table conversation,” Mustang said. “Especially with a lady present.”

 

“I'm well aware of what Gagh is, and it's typical after effects, Colonel,” Troi said. And although she'd reverted back to formal address, her expression was still mild.

 

Hughes winced. Ouch, he thought. He noticed she didn't seem the least bit offended. If anything, she was enjoying herself. Hughes was beginning to think she was issuing her own challenge to the man.

 

Mustang's smile warmed up, and he turned up the heat on the charm, as he nodded graciously to her, and said, “My apologies. Of course being a member of the Enterprise crew, you would know. Forgive my presumptuousness, Deanna.”

 

Her smile broadened, and she said, “You are forgiven.”

 

She lifted the long-handled spoon and allowed some of the brown, goopy sauce the drip back into the bowl. Then she scraped the bottom of the spoon on the side with ceremony, and brought a mouthful up to her lips. The effect that brown sauce had on her as soon as it disappeared past her lips was instantaneous. Her eyes slid closed, and a look crossed her face that Hughes had only seen on his wife in the most intimate of moments.

 

He heard a clatter, and was snapped out of his reverie. The sound had come from Havoc dropping his fork on the plate; completely unnoticed by the man. From the look on his face, her ecstasy had a similar effect on him. Hughes cast a glance over at Roy, and saw the carefully crafted mask he usually wore was down, but to anyone who knew him well, his eyes revealed just how much he was enjoying the show.

 

Hughes made a mental note to see if he could get his hands on some of that sauce before they went home.

 

And as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened, Troi's eyes opened back up, and she said, “I did hear about the… contest; but I got the story second-hand. And I'm certain your friends are dying of curiosity.”

 

“Of course,” Mustang said, smoothly. “As long as the story doesn't spoil your appetite for your dessert.”

 

“Not at all,” she said as she lifted another spoonful, this time with ice cream mixed in with the magical brown sauce. “Nothing ever comes between me, and my hot fudge sundae.”

 

Again, the spoon disappeared past her lips, and she had the same look of pure ecstasy on her face. This time, the table thumped, and the silver rattled as Havoc banged his knee trying to hastily cross his legs.

 

Roy was, of course, cool and unaffected. At least that's what everyone was allowed to see. But the atmosphere at the table was becoming rather warm, and Hughes had the sudden feeling that he was a fifth wheel. He searched the lounge, looking for something… anything that he could use as an excuse and a distraction. Any curiosity about the mysterious Gagh was long gone at this point. Unfortunately, he was coming up empty.

 

He chanced a glance behind him, finally. As much as he would prefer not to see that sparkling shift from blue to red in the ports, he also really wanted away from the table. There, he found Jet; drink in hand, and staring out of the ports. He also noticed that the stars had stopped moving, and there was a huge semi-circle of dusty red in the lower portion of the view.

 

Hughes got to his feet, and made his excuses, leaving a rather desperate-looking Havoc behind with Roy and Deanna. It wasn't until he was about halfway across the lounge before he allowed a low chuckle to escape his lips. There was no way in hell that Havoc was going to move from that spot at the moment. Not without risking extreme humiliation.

 

When he reached Jet's side, he took the chance, and looked out. He was instantly overwhelmed with a feeling of dizziness, nausea, and the sense of falling. His eyes snapped shut, and he spun around, putting his back to the view. When he felt back under control, he opened first one eye, then the other, and caught Jet watching him with a touch of humour and a bit of sympathy.

 

“Vertigo?”

 

Hughes smiled and nodded.

 

“You guys doing okay, though?”

 

Hughes crossed his arms, and cautiously leaned against the frame of the port. “For the most part, nothing is all that much different from home.” He jerked a thumb at the view outside of the port. “That's a different story, though. It doesn't really hit me that we're in space until I look out.” He looked up at Jet and smiled. “It's a bit… unnerving.”

 

Jet took a sip of his drink, and smiled. “It's the opposite, for me.” He nodded to the view. “This I'm used to. I enjoy the view. I even feel comfortable with the warp speeds. It's a little different than the astral gates, but not by much. Everything else is advanced from us, but not entirely out of the realm of possibility. But this…” He stomped a couple of times on the carpeted deck. “I'm used to feeling the engines vibrating the deckplates, and hearing the hum. Even a bit of zero-g once in awhile. I can't even tell we're moving unless I look out.”

 

“So how are you doing, otherwise?”

 

Jet gave Hughes a small, bitter laugh, and he ran his hand across the top of his head. “Like shit, Maes.” He stared out for a moment, then said, “I can't find a damn thing I can use to defend her with. Everything she's done; every person she's screwed over… she's unrepentant. She rationalizes all of it, like she had no choice.”

 

He faced Hughes. “I'm a cop… was a cop, not a lawyer. I think too black and white. Legal or illegal. Was a crime committed. Not why. I investigated the particulars, even as far as motive. But forming a defense from that?” He shook his head.

 

“It's personal, too,” Hughes added.

 

“You're damn right. Her actions nearly killed my partner, stranded us in a place we sure as hell didn't belong, and pretty much screwed up the balance of power and technological evolution on your own world.” Jet's mouth clamped shut suddenly. He closed his eyes and growled low in frustration. “And keeping the timelines straight is a pain in the ass, besides.”

 

Hughes chuckled, and clapped Jet on the shoulder. “Don't sweat it. Data isn't the only one who can keep a secret when he has to.”

 

Jet's attention suddenly went past Hughes' shoulder, and he turned. Faye was settling into a seat alone, and looking none too happy.

 

“That's another thing that I don't get,” Jet said. “Why her and Ed? They weren't there. They have nothing to do with this, as far as I can see. And I really don't think Q does anything just for the hell of it.”

 

Hughes watched as Havoc managed to make a graceful exit from Troi and Mustang, and casually make his way over to Faye. He just shook his head, and smiled. Then he faced Jet, and said, “You could also ask why he didn't take Armstrong, or Winry, or anyone else that was there. It makes about as much sense, to me. But the answer has got to be here. Somewhere.”

 

A slight smile tugged at Jet's lips, and he said, “Your Lieutenant is about to find out what real pain is, Maes.”

 

Hughes turned back to the scene playing out at the nearby table. “Sometimes I wonder if he enjoys it.”

 

Havoc started out well enough. He politely asked if he could join Faye, and she gave a disinterested wave at the empty seat, but continued to stare out of the nearby port. There was a long awkward moment while he looked around the lounge, and fidgeted. He looked down at the drink he'd brought with him, and attempted to say something, but stopped. After several false starts, he finally looked at Faye, who was still ignoring him, and said, “I really like that shirt.”

 

She faced him, and slowly raised a brow. Havoc rubbed the back of his neck, and stammered. “It really shows off your… uh… potential.”

 

Jet groaned, and covered his eyes. “He didn't.”

 

Hughes just winced and chuckled. “Yes, he did.”

 

0o0o0

 

Havoc groaned inwardly. He felt like the goofy kid in school again, the way he stammered. He knew his lines were often cheesy. Under normal circumstances, it was deliberate. He usually didn't take himself that seriously when he was trying to meet women. He didn't expect them to, either. He was just interested in having some fun most of the time, and he enjoyed the company of women who appreciated his humour. But the way Faye had studiously ignored him… so coldly ignored him… made him feel ridiculously uncertain. And he couldn't believe that he just said what he did. It didn't help any that the look she was giving him at this moment made him feel like he could sit on a cigarette pack, and dangle his feet.

 

He sighed. “I apologize. That was really bad.”

 

She never said a word, but turned her attention back to the ports. As far as she was concerned, Havoc no longer existed.

 

He quietly got up, and left her alone at the table. He just hoped that the Colonel was too wrapped up in flirting with Deanna to notice that Havoc did a spectacular crash and burn. He knew he'd never live it down, otherwise.

 

He settled down at the far end of the bar, away from everyone else. He rested his chin on his crossed arms, and contemplated the play of light on the amber liquid in his glass.

 

“Cheesy pick-up lines laced with sarcasm. Interesting combination,” a sultry voice said from one side of him.

 

He groaned softly, and buried his face in his arms. His humiliation was complete, now. He'd had a witness. And she was going to rub it in.

 

“Too bad you didn't try that on someone who could appreciate it,” she added.

 

Havoc brought his head up, and was about to let her know under no uncertain terms that he didn't appreciate her remarks, but was instantly struck dumb. She had tumbling locks of raven hair, vivid green eyes, a china doll complexion and dangerous curves in all the right places. She was also smiling warmly at him, instead of the snotty, cold, primadona look he was expecting.

 

She held out a hand to him, and said, “Marie Sioux. I'm with the search and rescue team.”

 

“Search and rescue?”

 

She nodded toward the ports, and the red planet framed by them. “The accident? We're here to find the people who've been trapped and injured.”

 

“Ah. I see,” he said, even though he didn't.

 

She leaned in and gave him a cocky grin. “You're so full of shit.”

 

Havoc chuckled, and pointed at his eye. “Nope. I'm a quart low. See? Blue eyes.”

 

“And quite lovely, at that.”

 

His voice completely went on strike at that moment.

 

“Search and rescue team, please report to transporter room three,” someone announced over the comm, and Marie got to her feet.

 

Havoc had never been quite so grateful for an interruption like that in his life. He had the horrible feeling that if he were to be with Marie for much longer, he was going to really make an ass of himself.

 

“Duty calls,” she said. She ran a finger along his jaw, and gave him a seductive smile. “Too bad we didn't meet earlier. I could have used the diversion.” Then she left; leaving a puddle in her wake that was once Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc.