Nowhere Man


Author: Liz Camp
Warnings: This will eventually be rated either R or NC-17, due to my way too large propensity for yaoi. I don't know what the pairings will be yet.
Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun, Cowboy Bebop or the song Nowhere Man. These are all excellent works of creative minds, and I'm just not that talented. Sad, but true.

Author's notes:

This is a strange mind-burp of a crossover fic using the lovely characters from Trigun and Cowboy Bebop. This will be yaoi, but I don't know when, since this is my secondary fic right. Don't expect too many updates just yet, but I will try to add to this one semi-regularly






He's a real nowhere Man,
Sitting in his Nowhere Land,
Making all his nowhere plans
for nobody.
-Beatles---Nowhere Man




"Wh-where...am I?" The green haired man opened his eyes wide, then immediately closed them, wincing. "Too fucking bright. What's going on?"

"Oh good, you're awake! A very enthusiastic male voice chirped in the man's ear. Spike couldn't place the voice with anyone he remembered. He was supposed to be dead...so this was...

"Am I in hell?" Spike rasped; the strangers eyes widened slightly, not that Spike could see him. Spike couldn't see much of anything squinting the way he was.

"Goodness no! Whatever gave you that idea?" Right, not in hell....so...

"Heaven? You an angel?"

"Although I've been known for my incredible good nature, no, I'm not an angel. And you're not in heaven. You're quite alive, my green haired friend." This guy was strange...Spike wondered exactly what kind of man was behind his voice. Probably Asian, from the accent, most likely short, like most Asian men he had met. An Asian accent, in this day and age? Maybe a scientist from one of the moon colonies. Spike had heard of a few that still spoke certain Asian dialects. Wait... he was alive? How?

"I'm alive....how?" Spike figured he was doing fairly well in the conversation department for having been dead three minutes ago. He was still feeling a little fuzzy on that, but on a good note, his eyes were adjusting to the light in...wherever he was. Since when did his false eye need time to adjust? Eh...fuck it. Too tired to think.

"Well...I'll tell you, but don't ask any more questions. You, sir, need some more rest. See... I was walking along, minding my own business and wondering exactly how many donuts 60 woolongs will buy me, when I hear this giant explosion, then some gunfire...a couple more explosions... more gunfire...then there was this big bang noise, I don't know what that was...then some more..."

"Get...to the point!" Spike managed to hiss out. God, his throat hurt...and he was dying for a cigarette.

"Yosh! Well, anyway, I hear a bunch of stuff, so naturally I go running towards the noise to see if anyone needs any help. I get inside this big old building, glass everywhere, men with guns, your typical carnage scene. Then I'm seeing this guy walking down these stairs, bleeding like a...thing that bleeds a lot. So all these guys are watching, and I'm assuming they're not exactly friendly to this bleeding person, seeing as they don't all go and rush to help him."

"So...?" This man sure liked to hear the sound of his own voice....joy.

"So...," now he sounded slightly miffed, "I grab said bleeding guy and high-tail it outta there before anything else can happen. And what do you know...that guy is you!" Spike frowned...it hurt to frown, but he did it regardless. There were holes in that story, a lot of holes. But he chose to believe it, for the time being. Spike opened his eyes wider, able to discern a few things from his surroundings. Everything was blurry, but he'd bet his last woolong he was in a medical room aboard some sort of ship. Everything was metal, or white...and he was laying on some kind of bed.

"Why? ...was supposed to die---wanted to...die..." Spike was fighting a losing battle to try and stay conscious, but he was just so tired.

"Oh, I disapprove of suicide more than anything." Was the last thing the green haired man heard before he drifted back into a blue abyss.


Unknown Time Later---

Spike was awake, again, only this time there was no overly nervous stranger watching over him. He opened his eyes slowly, letting himself get used to light in increments. After an undetermined amount of time, he was able to look around without any fuzziness.

He was in a medical room, on a ship all right, but it didn't look like any medical room Spike had seen before. He could barely describe most of the things he could see, and had no hope of actually identifying them. After only a few moments, Spike heard footsteps coming towards him.

"Hey, that was pretty fast." The figure strolled into the room, grinning down at him, "You're a real quick healer, you know that?" Well, Spike's appearance theory was now officially shot to hell.

The semi-Asian voice belonged to an insanely tall, fairly thin but muscular blond haired, green eyed man. The blonde man had a childlike grin on his face, and appeared to be wearing a very strange red duster/thing over a tight black vinyl body suit. Whatever gets you going...

"So I've been told," Spike always was a quick healer, maybe owing to how many times he'd been near death. God had a fucked up sense of humor, "how long was I out, and why do I feel so much better than before?"

"Oh, about a week, and because I healed you. You're going to be slightly weak for a few days, but your body is good as new." The man snapped his fingers, "I forgot! I replaced that old bionic eye of yours with a newer model I made myself. It should feel a lot more real now." Who the hell was this guy?

"Who the hell are you?" The blonde cocked his head to one side, grinning insanely.

"I am a lone gunman, searching the galaxies for love. My motto is clear, my creed is pure, to uphold standards and achieve my goal of LOVE & PEACE! I am the one...the only, the incomparable, Vash the Stampede!" Spike could swear he saw sparkles dancing around Vash's face.

"Right, you're an idiot. Got that part. How did you heal me so quickly?" Spike could almost see the man deflate into a rather feminine looking pout.

"Well, I think my tag line is cute," Vash sighs, heavily, "healing you was easy, compared to some of the things I've had happen to me. Just think of me as a medical hobbyist. You healed quickly because I used technology not really available to most ningens. My turn, cause you owe me something. Tell me, why were you in the middle of a minor war zone, and why are you supposed to be dead?"

So Spike explained, in minimal detail his life with the syndicate, falling for Julia, his rivalry with Vicious, his faked death and the events that came afterwards, culminating with Julia's death and his own final battle with his rival." After finishing his story, he looked up from reminiscing, rather startled to see the tall man bawling his eyes out.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I'm sorry, it's just so...so very sad!!" Vash sobbed into his hands, "Well, never you mind that now, you're staying right here, with me until I can manage to cheer you up. It's the least I can do after such a sad," sniffle, sniffle...sob, "SAD story. Or my name isn't Vash the Stampede, the Humanoid Typhoon!"

"Right. You're a nut, got it. So, what...I'm your hostage?" Spike could almost hear the 'dur?' sound coming from Vash's expression.

"Dear Kami no! But I can't have a perfectly good human life go to waste, now can I? I'm not about to let you go so you can get yourself hurt and have me heal you all over again." Vash smiles sweetly, "Anyway, I was kind of in a similar situation a while back, so maybe I can help."

"Similar?" Spike quirked an eyebrow, struggling to sit up. Vash leapt up to help him, steadying the bounty hunters movements with his hands. After Spike had succeeded in maintaining an upright position, he looked directly at the blonde, trying to ignore the fact that he needed help to move. "How?"

"Well...it's a really, really long and boring story, so I'll make it short. There was this guy, Knives. Well actually, Knives is my brother, and he never really wanted to kill me, just hurt me enough to fracture my entire moral system." Spike stared at the man in uncharacteristic puzzlement, "So, Knives and I had this rivalry...of sorts. I ended up shooting him a bunch of times, he ended up trying to kill everything around me I cared about, but we worked it out. He's a pretty good guy now. Keeps to himself, mostly, likes to play chess." It was Spike's turn to have a 'dur?' expression on his face.

"You're a strange one, You know that?" Spike grinned in spite of himself. Vash nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh yeah, I'm told that all the time!" Vash laughed lightly, then turned serious. "Is there anyone you want me to talk to, or notify about where you are?" Spike thought about Faye, and her face as he left, for what he thought was the last time. He thought about Jet, poor Jet, losing everything he thought he had in one decisive movement. Who knew what Jet was thinking right now...

"There's a ship, the Cowboy Bebop, signal number 051760X-dl452. Can you get in contact with them?" Vash nodded, turning to a panel and pressing a few buttons. A monitor descended from the ceiling, stopping at Spike's eye level. Spike closed his eyes, inhaling deeply in anticipation of his friends...no, family's reaction to his 'resurrection'. A face flickered onto the screen. Jet's face, but he was turned toward something on the ship's deck.

"Bebop here, this had better be good, cause this ships just about to go to he---SPIKE?!!!!" Spike watched in amusement as Jet's cigar fell from his gaping mouth.

"Hey Jet. You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I just did! You're supposed to be dead, everyone thought that you...," Jet turned serious, "where are you? Are they holding you hostage? How'd you get to the phone?" Spike raised his hands defensively.

"I'm on some sort of ship, I dunno what kind, cause I haven't been awake long enough to find out. I'm not being held hostage, I don't think...and the man who brought me here gave me the phone. So, what's going on with the ship?" Jet sighed at his friends easygoing mentality.

"The usual. No fuel, less food and no means of getting to any planet or supply colony in any manner whatsoever. After the syndicate received your little gift, they decided to hunt down the Bebop to return the favor. We got away, but just barely. Now, to steal Ed's phrase, we're drifting through space towards certain oblivion." Jet mimicked Ed's high-pitched tone, and Spike stared at his friend for a moment.

"We?" Jet nodded.

"Faye's with me. She hasn't really left since you disappeared." Spike gave Jet a lecherous grin.

"I see...you dirty old man!" Jet scowled at him darkly.

"You know its not like that, she's way too...too, well, she's too Faye." Spike shrugged.

"If you say so... Hey Vash?" Spike turned from the screen. Vash raised his eyebrows, "How far are we from the Bebop? Can we pick up my friends?"

"I've got the signal, it shouldn't take more than a half hour. I could put the entire ship into the bay, if your friend wants. He can repair it here, we have the materials."

"Just how big is your ship?" The blond grinned at Spike, shoving him to right so Vash could be seen by the monitor as well.

"Really big. I could probably fit a couple hundred ships the size of the Bebop in one of my ship bays. Not that I'd really need to." Jet nodded to Vash, masking his surprise over the blonde's appearance.

"That's one big ship all right. Why?"

"Well, you could say it has a lot of sentimental value, eh-heh-heh.." Vash grinned rather sheepishly, "anyway, I'll pick you up, be there in around twenty minutes or so."

"My sensors don't indicate any ships within a twenty minute range-"

"My ship is faster than average. Ja ne."

"Ja...what?" Jet's confused expression winked out as Vash hit a button on the side of the monitor."

"Yosh! Well, then...let's get going, ne?" Vash grinned at Spike, receiving an annoyed glare in return.

"What language are you speaking anyway?" Spike swung his legs over the side of the bed, intent on standing up.

"Hmm? Oh, Japanese. I just kinda picked it up here and there, cool huh?" Japanese? Spike glared at Vash.

"Japanese hasn't been spoken in the past three hundred years, and you just...'picked it up', huh? Spike made little quotes with his fingers as he spoke.

"Well.... I'm a bit of a history buff. I like linguistics too.."

"You're a horrible liar." Spike observed wryly.

"I suppose so. I should probably get this ship moving, don't want to leave your friends stranded any longer than necessary!" Spike watched as Vash pulled up another monitor, pressing different buttons on the screen, then nodding to himself.

"Okay, we'll rendezvous with the Bebop in approximately fifteen minutes." Spike nodded to the strange blonde, idly wishing for a cigarette. It would make his life less confusing about now.

Vash turned to leave, then slapped his forehead loudly, turning back. "Almost forgot! There are clothes in the cabinet behind you, they might not really fit well, but you should probably get dressed before meeting your friends." Spike swore Vash was trying not to laugh as he left the room.

Spike slowly stood up, a bit wobbly, but still standing. Then it hit him.

He was naked though that whole conversation?

"Well, shit."





(More A/N These are the lyrics to the song that inspired this entire )(&*@ fic. I think they're pretty damn appropriate for describing both main characters of both shows, respectively. And Knives. **huge grin**)

Nowhere Man- The Beatles

He's a real nowhere Man,
Sitting in his Nowhere Land,
Making all his nowhere plans
for nobody.

Doesn't have a point of view,
Knows not where he's going to,
Isn't he a bit like you and me?
Nowhere Man, please listen,
You don't know what you're missing,
Nowhere Man, the world is at your command.

He's as blind as he can be,
Just sees what he wants to see,
Nowhere Man can you see me at all?
Doesn't have a point of view,
Knows not where he's going to,
Isn't he a bit like you and me?
Nowhere Man, don't worry,
Take your time, don't hurry,
Leave it all till somebody else
lend you a hand.

He's a real Nowhere Man,
Sitting in his Nowhere Land,
Making all his nowhere plans
for nobody.