Cowboy Bebop fic: Grasshopper Rhyme
Title: Grasshopper Rhyme
Summary: Spike/Faye. Sort of. Because even if Faye tried to explain, Spike wouldn't understand, would he? They're running in circles.
Rating: T.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never was, never will be.
Note: Set after Jupiter Jazz.
Grasshopper Rhyme
The Bebop slowly drifted in orbit around Mars, engines off to save on precious fuel until the next bounty came around. Sitting in the cockpit, Spike watched as the red planet passed before him and blocked the blackness of outer space from his sight. Black, faint, steady stars, and shades of red. If there was something to say about the vastness of the universe and how it made humanity's struggle seem so trivial, Spike hadn't read about it in Bruce Lee's biography.
He'd always preferred philosophy at the bottom of a bottle of good whisky anyway. But that, too, would have to wait until the next bounty.
The click of heels and a shadow falling on the windowpane announced a visitor.
"This is supposed to be a beautiful view." Faye's voice sounded bored and jaded. Never knowing what tomorrow was going to be made of got old, sometimes.
Nature hates emptiness and always feels the need to fill it, with anything, so Spike replied: "Hn."
His universe, at least, was empty. He had nothing but the clothes on his back, the cigarettes in his hand, and the Swordfish.
Light travels at 300,000 kilometers per second; seeing far away in space is seeing far in the past.
They saw Mars not as it was, but as it had been a fraction of second ago, the stars, as they had been years ago. Did Faye know? She said she had no past. He was all past, and an instant of present. The present. Maybe they could meet there, one day. Or, one night there'd be one too many bottles of whatever cheap alcohol they could find and they'd tumble in bed together, drowning what the liquor couldn't in each other because that was all there could be to it. There were far too many ghosts standing between them. Two on his side that he could name, and who knew how many on hers.
But then, the same went for the stars. Maybe they had already died, and the light that reached them now was merely the ghost of what had once been. How fitting.
More deep and meaningful thoughts there, but Spike couldn't be bothered to dwell on them. Three hundred thousand kilometers per second. They'd be blasted into oblivion if they ever tried to reach this speed. Then again, if he broke the record, his name would be everywhere, proving that he was, indeed, alive. Might be worth a try…
Fuck, Spike was a sour drunk, but he got downright depressing when sober.
Faye was giving him a look now; with one of her eyebrows raised and her mouth in a slight pout. She had been expecting one of his usual sarcastic, infuriating, stupid remarks.
"Hey, did you hear me at all?"
Ever-nonchalant Spike was in a mood today. A loud sigh escaping her, Faye turned back to the window. What game were they playing again? Ooh-ing and aah-ing at the view? If he didn't care, she could not see why she should pretend. It wasn't even that exceptional. She had seen it a million times before. That was the truth of it: no sparkles, no glitter. Adventure was not glamorous; it was an empty wallet and a hungry stomach. She knew she should quit and stop running away and find a place to settle down - she could go anywhere, she could be anything and… But where to start?
She glanced at Spike's reflection in the window - she doubted he had even blinked in the time she'd been there. His mood must have been rubbing off on her. She needed a smoke. Or a drink. Or both.
Except there was no more alcohol on the Bebop, and Faye knew better than to wish her life away. Which was why she wouldn't ask Spike for a cigarette. He would not understand, if he responded at all, or, worse, imagine things. She was beginning to admit to herself that she should stop wanting him to. There was a past that was eating him up alive, and it didn't include her. She knew she had to focus on a future, whatever that may be, and not lose sight of the present.
The present. Despite herself, she wished they could meet there, one day.