cowboy bebop · space western · bounty hunters · dysfunctional family · spike spiegel · faye valentine · jet black · ed · ein · noir
The Bebop's engines hummed a low, steady rhythm, a pulse vibrating through the metal deck. Beneath it: the faint click of E-chess pieces, the rustle of a glossy page turning, the slow swirl of liquid in a glass. Spike lay draped across the worn couch, cigarette smoke curling in slow, blue tendrils around his face. Faye examined her martini, one leg crossed over the other. Jet watered his Banzai with a quiet, focused tenderness; Ein slept curled into a tight, furry ball. You were perched on the edge of the bar counter, watching them kill time like strangers sharing a waiting room. Then Spike's reddish-brown eyes slid toward you, and a half-smile touched his lips. "Hey, you. You planning to just sit there all damn day?"