Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop. Seems that an empty Dr. Pepper can and two dollars isn’t quite buying price.

Drabble 1: On Food, Or Lack Thereof

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“Bell peppers.”

“Yup.”

“And beef.”

“You got it.”

“Again.”

“You want it or not?”

Faye wailed and threw her arms in the air. And while her voice was loud, it was hardly dominating. In the not-so-distant background, the stove was sizzling, the bell peppers were popping, and Ed was singing while kicking her legs against the sofa’s armrest. “No! No, I do not want bell peppers and beef!” Faye rounded on Jet, jabbing his nose with her finger. “Every single night, bell peppers and beef. Except there is no beef! What the hell happened to the beef Jet? I want beef! Or try making something different. God, bologna would be better than another bell pepper.” She spat out the last words like they were the food themselves. Turning on her heel, Faye marched out of the kitchen, cheeks flushed. “Stop the bell pepper genocide!” Jet rolled his eyes. Tomorrow evening she would probably bring a picket sign, knowing Faye.

“What about you, Ed? You up for some dinner?” He flipped off the burner and divvyed up the meal.

Ed skipped over to the counter, still serenading her Tomato. And while Jet did not find this particularly unusual, the fact that the computer’s whirring sound uncannily like a hum was a little unnerving.

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Spike opened the hatch on the Swordfish, whistling a tune from years gone by. That last bounty, a genetic engineer who was creating animals previously thought to be physically impossible, was trying this stunt on humans, creating less than pleasant results. And even though he was a real pencil-neck, with greasy hair and sickly skin, he had quite a fight in him. Before coming quietly, he razed a flower shop, a bar, and two parking meters. And Spike, being the loving generous gentleman he was, spent the whole day on one of Jupiter’s smaller moons, helping the owners repair their shops.

Or Jet, in a foul mood, wouldn’t give him his share of the bounty until he got his butt down there and picked up the mess his spinning kick did to everything but the bounty.

But the owners didn’t have to know that.

Spike didn’t even have to pause to recognize the scent drifting through the Bebop. Must be dinnertime. Slightly more accustomed to Jet’s cooking partialities than Faye was, he had the foresight to stop at a fly-thru and pick up a couple of burgers on the way back. At the sound of voices in the kitchen, though, he paused.

Only one voice actually. One high, loud voice that was verging on screechy. He grinned as he heard Faye ranting about bell peppers. It really wasn’t so bad; they were a great source of vitamin C. No scurvy on this ship. He leaned against the wall and opened up on of the burgers.

Faye stormed down the narrow hallway, her fists clenched at her side. Spike watched her approach, and on impulse, picked up the second hamburger. He only paused a second for a mournful farewell before speaking.

“Hey Faye. Catch.” He tossed the burger lightly. Her eyes widened and she fumbled to grab the incoming package. Opening the wrapping a little, she made a sound Spike swore sounded like a squeak.

A squeak.

From Faye Valentine.

He laughed and walked down the hall.