Chapter Text
“TWO HOURS?!”
Spike doesn’t even register the sound of your voice blending with his as you two shout the same thing at the exact same time. Instead, he’s more focused on the thought that even after being sent out as bait and decoy with you for this cheap bounty the crew was handling, he’s still getting the short end of the bargain. For two more hours. And however long it takes for him to get over how such an easy bounty slipped away.
“Yeah, yeah! Quit your complaining! And I mean both of you!” Jet booms over the comms and it takes everything in Spike not to pull a face despite the man not being able to see him from his comfortable spot on the Bebop pilot seat. “Are you two still tethered together?”
He knows you are. His front is facing yours and the two of you are a mere thirty feet apart. You haven’t drifted off any farther and neither has he, despite the running out of gas at virtually the same time. But like clockwork, he finds himself leaning to the side of his seat just to get a better angle while looking out the window. Sure enough, the Swordfish is still tethered to your ship like in the original plan to catch the bounty From across the way, he can vaguely spot you doing the same- passive look on your face.
He’d never admit it out loud, but there’s something naturally pretty about the way you wear your nonchalance. It comes out when you’re bored or working. Your sharp eyes dulling and your lips pull together to make a frown sit on your face. He catches it from the corner of his eye sometimes when the two of you are together, but you mostly hide it well. A flirt when you’re happy, a sloth when you’re not. It’s not the combination he’d expect from someone like you, but everyone has their own secrets. And although he’ll never admit this out loud either, he glad that you did. You’re more distracting to him that way, anyways.
“Yeah, we’re still together,” Spike’s voice falls flat as he responds for the two of you. At the sound of his voice, he can see your eyes flickering up to his. You meet his gaze, and your expression looks winded, but you don’t seem to be feeling much beyond that. It causes him to huff to himself before finally glancing away. He supposes he’s been through worse with this crew. “You planning on leaving us or something?”
“Two birds, one stone.” Jet’s reply was simple. Yes. “We’ll touch back in a few. I need to work out a flight path.”
With Jet off the comms, silence settles between the two of you quickly. Two hours is a long time to be stuck in a little racing ship, but he’ll manage. At least, that’s what he tells himself as he leans back into his seat and loosens his tie. A second into his lounging, he takes a deep breath. Somehow, he commands all his focus into the inhale, feeling every second as he pulls air into his lungs. When he can no longer hold the air inside his chest, he breathes out. Slowly. Fully.
Whatever happens, happens.
He’ll be here for a while. Best not to dwell on the hours, and maybe they won’t dwell on him too. That’s the mentality he takes as his eyes take in the view he’s getting from the window right in front of him. Aside from the vast, emptiness of space and hints of his own red ship, all he can really do is just…just look at you.
From across the way, you’re in your own old MONO racer, sitting with your arms folded across your chest and a neutral look on your face. "Old Blue,” as you liked to call her, but she looks a lot younger than the Swordfish II. Your cockpit is noticeably smaller than his, but you don’t seem to mind it. Just yet anyway. Everyone cracks eventually.
“What?”
“Huh?” Spike can’t help but reply dumbly, the sound of your voice catching him off guard. His eyes refocus to look at your face- leaning forward in your seat now as your eyes glint with interest. There’s a half-smile playing on your lips, and he can’t help but feel insane for thinking about just how much how it’s infecting him. He needs a smoke.
“You were looking at me.” Your voice sounds clear in his earpiece, almost as if you were right next to him, no doubt because of the distance between your two ships. He doesn’t know why it causes him to swallow, but he still matches your stare with his own guarded expression. Though he can’t help but feel like your grin only widened as you gave him a shrug. “Just wanted to know why.”
“I wasn’t looking at you. I just-” He’s reaching into his pockets for his cigarettes, knowing that if he doesn’t light one up in a second then his mood is going to be toast. Except when his fingers brush against the familiar little white box that keeps him sane, he feels nothing. He knew this bounty was bad luck, but he didn’t expect it to be this bad. “Shit.”
“What’s wrong?” You respond to his curse instant, concern lacing your tone. He feels his own eyebrows twitch as your pinch together, the smile wiped off your face at the thought that there was something potentially dangerous about to happen.
“Hmmm…out of cigarettes.”
There’s a second of silence that passes through as you process his words. Then another. And another. Until finally, he can see the gears no longer spinning in your head and hear you laughing. Your arms cross over your chest, and your eyes slip closed as you find his misfortune hilarious. Though more of a soft snicker than anything really. And if he wasn’t so annoyed with everything that had been happening lately, he might have found the moment cute.
“Could have been worse.” You say easily. He’s barely able to slip out the word ‘how?’ before you’re following up with a dig he honestly should have expected. “You could have been stuck with Faye.”
Despite hating the idea of it, he finds himself chuckling dryly alongside you. It’s been no secret that Spike isn’t Faye’s biggest fan. And although, you had only joined recently, and you were quick to become Faye’s latest obsession when she thought she could wrap you around her finger. Of course, nobody on the crew was expecting you to exactly flirt back with her with just as much intensity. And no one was expecting you to straight-up reject any and all advances that went further than just a little teasing. Something about her being far from your type.
“I don’t get how you deal with her.” He shuts his eyes and crosses his arms behind his head. Even after you rejected her, she can still be shameless. He knows she annoys you. The whole crew does. Yet for some reason, you still entertain her. Most of the time, anyway. “She’s nothing but trouble.”
“She’s not so bad, pretty boy.”
“...Don’t call me that.”
You laugh at him, despite the complete seriousness of his voice. He doesn’t like how quick you are to turn the tables back onto him. In fact, he’s never liked it. And he feels like it’s been your personal mission to do that to him as many times as possible since joining up with them. Of course, back on the ship, he could always just walk away from you. He even had the opportunity to turn his headphones up or shut you out of his room. But that was on the Bebop. There’s no out when the two of you are stuck together in Space. You made him feel vulnerable. And he didn’t like feeling vulnerable. But that didn’t mean he didn’t like you.
Most of the time, anyway.
“Awww, why not?” You sound energetic, so he chances a look over at where you’re sitting across from him. When he opens his eyes, he’s met with one of your trademark grins as you all but bounce on your seat. He doesn’t like the idea of now being your entertainment for however much time left out of the two hours Jet had given you both. But it’s hard not to rise to your challenge when you keep looking at him like some type of predator. Like how Faye looks at you. Though something about that look on you has always been a little enjoyable to witness. “It’s not like I’m lying!”
“Look who’s talking.” Spike quips back easily, a smirk of his own not appearing on his face. After all, the best way to fight fire is with more fire. “I’d say you’re the prettier one out of the two of us. I used to think your old job was making videos, you know…”
Your eyes widen as he trails off, the innuendo taking a moment to register in your brain. But he’s able to capture the exact moment it does finally process for you in his head. Because all of sudden, there’s no more look of surprise on your face. There’s nothing but that wicked gleam in your eyes. The one that’s sending shivers down his spine, even if you both are playing for the same team. This means war.
“I thought we were talking about your handsome face,” Even with your delayed response, he can hear that you haven’t lost your momentum over the comms. In fact, him finally responding to your teasing with more than just complete and utter silence this time is somehow making your fire burn even brighter. “What’s with the sudden interest on my body? Did you see something you like? I don’t bite, you know.”
So bright it burns.
“...” The grin’s been wiped on his face now. Spike’s back to frowning- no- glaring at you while you’re sent into another laughing fit. It’s starting to get pretty irritating watching you get the better end of this already shitty deal but there’s nothing he can do with the cards he’s been dealt with for now except play with them. He knew there was a reason he never gave into you so easily. You were playing him. You are playing him. The same way you play Faye. Possibly, even worse than you do to Faye because, at the very least, she fights back. Longer than he could right now, at least. “Shut it.”
“HAHAHAHAHA.”
“Prick.” He bites out the insult as an afterthought, but it’s too little too late. By now, you’re cackling. A sound he can hear all too clearly over the communication system, and he can’t help it as his face grows warm and his face twists up in a snarl. His lack of a smart response was so out of character for him that even Spike could admit that. If it wasn’t obvious then, well it is now. You’ve practically won. So while he may be too prideful to admit it out loud, he knows he’s not going to beat you at your own game. Especially when you always managed to have the element of surprise as a weapon. That, and your somehow uncanny ability to speak truthfully on his deepest thoughts regarding you. “Just wait until I get my hands on you.”
But he’ll never admit that it.
“What are you going to do to me, pretty boy?”
Not unless…
“That’s for me to know…” He answers in a slow drawl, a smirk slowly but surely making its way back onto his face. He’s got a little less than two hours. And it ain’t over until it’s over. “...and you to find out.”
Not unless you do it too.