Callisto | Tuesday, Fandom Time

[flourish_or_perish]

And here she was. Just what she'd wanted, right?

Faye had lost count of her drinks; the glasses in front of her were no longer reflective of the amount of alcohol she'd actually consumed, because the bartender had actually been diligent in removing them. But the booze, and the smoke, and the jazz in this bar were helping separate her from her thoughts, and that was what she'd been after, more than anything else.

She knew she was being looked at. There were three men behind her, slightly to her left, who'd been watching her since she came in tonight. There were a half-dozen others who'd filtered out into the night again after buying her drinks and then being ignored. Those were the polite ones, and she knew it.

Faye hadn't come to Callisto looking for polite men, though. She'd come to Callisto because she was confused and hurting beause of it, and she wanted to hurt more.

For now, though, she was content to sit at this bar and resist the urge to think. Instead, she could watch the saxophonist, who'd done nothing more than smile gently at her between sets, and enjoy his music.

Faye	Several hours and drinks later, the bar was clearing out, Faye's drink had been reduced to ice cubes, and -- worst of all -- the music had stopped. Maybe she should find somewhere to sleep. Somewhere warm. Because she was starting to not feel gre -- "Achoo!" The bartender looked over at her as Faye let out another sneeze, followed by two more. Great.
Mr. Saxophone	"Take care," came a soft voice from behind her. It was the saxophonist, his case slung over his shoulder as he smiled down at Faye. "That was a pretty close one. If someone sneezes and no one says 'Take care,' that person can turn into a fairy. That's what they say around here."
Faye	Well. That sounded like horseshit. Corny horseshit, even. But Faye graced him with a smile, anyway, because he was the first person who'd actually paid attention to her here. "Then there's no problem," she replied, slurring ever so slightly as she laid her head down on her crossed arms. "I'm already a fairy."
Mr. Saxophone	He half-smiled back, clearly amused by her response, before pulling off his coat and draping it around her shoulders. You were going to get even sicker, little fairy girl, if you didn't watch it.
Faye	Faye didn't move save for flit her gaze back towards the coat around her, and then back up at him. She thought of why she'd come here. She thought of how cute this guy was. She thought of Stark. "I'm not as simple as I look, Mr. Saxophone." If it sounded equal parts like flirting and stalling, well.
Mr. Saxophone	"Women aren't my style," he answered easily, resting a hand on a hip. "But the others are all quite interested." Literally the entire population of the bar was staring at Faye, and had been all night.
Faye	"Then I should be very popular," Faye replied. She was pretty well aware of the eyes on her, and you know what wasn't going to help keep them looking at her? This coat.
Mr. Saxophone	"You should be very careful," he warned her, watching carefully as she got up on wobbly, stick-like legs and tossed his coat back at him.
Faye	"Thanks for the tip, Mr. Saxophone," Faye drawled, wandering out into the cold with a sway of her hips. Maybe with any luck, those boys in the bar would follow her. She could knock them out and take 'em for all they were worth. The entire night of drinking wouldn't impact that at all, of course! And then she rounded a corner, and took another turn, and went down a dark alley, and.... "What's the deal?" Faye pouted aloud as she looked over her shoulder. "I wanted to work off all this frustration, but no one's coming." She turned around to keep heading in the direction she came, but when she saw what was before her, crowding into the end of that alley like they meant to corner her, she smiled. "Oh, yay, you're all here."
Ruffians! Thugs!	It was a group of thugs in gas masks! Whether they were the guys from the bar or totally new thugs was a mystery. The important part was that they were encroaching on Faye as a slight man with a cigarette and a ushanka called out to her. "Madam, your appearance is rather harmful to the eyes. Or are you trying to entice us?"
Faye	"Oops, you found me out," Faye replied with a giggle, producing a pair of gloves from...somewhere. (Her bra. It was always her bra.) "Hold on a minute -- if I don't put these on, I just might chip a nail, you know?" Gloves on, she fell into a more defensive stance. "All right, any time now."
Ruffians and Thugs!	One of the guys came lunging for her with a, "You wench!" and while Faye was momentarily a little thrown off by his choice of insult, it didn't delay her response all that much, and her boot connected neatly with his jaw. The guy in the ushanka -- the apparent leader -- was coming at her now, and as Faye geared up for a punch with a smile, she stopped short.
Mr. Saxophone	...because instead, a saxophone case was being hurled into the guy. "Hurry!" Mr. Saxophone yelled at her, once the thugs' boss was down. He grabbed Faye by the wrist and pulled her off in the opposite direction, setting their pace at a quick run. It had begun to snow.
Faye	"Mr. Saxophone!" Faye yelled in protest as she was yanked away from her fight. He kicked a pallette over on their pursuers, and Faye looked back over her shoulder to find no one was chasing them anymore. ...but she'd wanted that fight. She'd had it. It would have felt great. But instead, she'd made a new friend. A new, handsome friend who didn't like women, but -- that sort of worked out for her, anyway. She was looking to self-destruct a little, but not quite in that way. (Loath as she was to admit it, she wouldn't...let herself. Loyalty was a handicap, but it seemed to be one she'd picked up.) A few minutes later, she was tucked onto Mr. Saxophone's couch, drying off with a towel and looking around at his apartment. Piano, books...art. "Why did you bring me here?"
Gren	"Because you said you were a fairy," he answered, his smile in his voice. "Why did you come with me?"
Faye	Faye answered honestly. "'Cause I've got no place to stay."
Gren	"You trust me just like that?" Gren asked, lifting a brow as he moved around the apartment.
Faye	"You said you weren't interested in women," Faye pointed out, her senses perking up a little in case she'd judged this wrong.
Gren	"Well, I could take your money and try to kill you," he said in a low voice, smooth as jazz.
Faye	"Good luck." Faye reached over to an end table and plucked up a tiny music box. "Despite how I may look, I'm not such easy prey." She turned the tiny crank, frowning when it didn't play.
Gren	"I'm afraid it's broken," Gren told her, leaning down to take it from her as he sat down two glasses and a bottle of vodka. "You came to such a slummy neighborhood alone?" There was more going on here. She didn't have to talk, but he'd listen.
Faye	"I am alone," Faye answered quietly, injecting her voice with a swagger she didn't quite feel. "I don't need anyone. I end up worrying about things I shouldn't. You know, me being such a prize and all. Guys just end up fighting over me like dogs." She watched him pour hot water into both glasses -- toddies, nice -- and was quiet for a moment before she added, "They say humans are social animals -- they can't live alone. But you can live pretty well by yourself." Better, even. It was better alone, and without connections. The more you cared, the more you could be hurt. This was better. "I'll tell you -- instead of feeling alone in a group, it's better to have real solitude, all by yourself. Dealing with other people is nothing but trouble. So it doesn't matter if I'm there or not, right?"
Gren	"You were just afraid they'd abandon you," Gren supplied, barely even waiting for her to finish before cutting right to the heart of it. "These people you don't need. Right? So you abandoned them first. You distanced yourself from the whole thing." You weren't so mysterious, fairy lady.
Faye	Faye fixed him with a look over her glass, eyes narrowing for a moment. "I don't know why I'm telling you all of this," she said, neither confirming or denying whether he was right as she laid down on the couch. Her head was so heavy. "I feel like I'm in a confession booth. You're not a preacher by any chance, are you?"
Gren	"No," Gren said, and left it at that. The silence gaped between them for a long moment, as Faye looked over and tried to decipher whether that 'No' meant anything else. And then she sneezed. "Take care, Faye," Gren said with a little smile, getting up. "Do you want to take a shower?"
Faye	"No," she said miserably, blinking away an oncoming headache. "There's probably Peeping Toms around here." And while Faye normally relished attention, right now she was sort of just...tired. Maybe a shower later would do her some good, but right now she was going to reach for the bottle and add a little more vodka to her hot toddy as Gren headed for his bathroom and turned on the shower. She wandered the apartment, listening to the sound of the water splashing from the other side of the door, and looked at Gren's photos. He sure had a lot of them. Friends. A woman holding a child, probably his mother. A group of Titan soldiers, with Gren front and center. The phone began to ring. There was something about those soldiers. Faye leaned in to look closer. Gren, yes, but who was behind him? There, with his face obscured. The phone was shrill, incessant. But Faye knew that guy.... The answering machine picked up. "Gren. Where are you?" And it all crashed into place. "Vicious," Faye gasped, staring over at the machine in horror as that voice came out of it. "I'm out with Honroutou. Along with the Mangan and the Reverse Dragon; it's 32,000. I'll be waiting." Gren was with Vicious. She should have known; Callisto had a huge syndicate presence. It had been stupid to think she wouldn't run into anyone. (Stupider, still, to think that Spike wouldn't be down here soon if Vicious was.) But right now, she had to get her priorities in line. Faye quietly found her gun, and tiptoed her way over to the door, listening to the rush of the water inside. She cocked her pistol. And she burst in and ripped the curtain aside, gun pointed right at Gren.
Gren	Gren was, perhaps understandably, a touch surprised to see her. But probably not as surprised as Faye was to see his breasts.
Faye	"A -- are you a woman?" Faye asked, totally thrown by what was certainly a feminine torso, there. Thrown enough to lower her gun. "What -- "
Gren	"Both," Gren answered, taking the opportunity to back Faye into a wall as he drew a towel around himself. "And neither. What's with the gun?"
Faye	Faye seemed to remember the gun, actually, at that reminder, and angrily raised it again. "You're with Vicious."
Gren	Gren sighed, pulling away from her and idly knocking her gun aside like it was nothing. "No. Not anymore." And sensing that this was going to be a long conversation, he reached for a robe as he led the way out of the bathroom. "I was in the same unit as Vicious on Titan. We were comrades. When I came home from the war, I was imprisoned. They thought I was a spy. I heard it was Vicious who testified against me. I started going crazy. They gave me some new drug they were testing on prisoners. Of course, I became addicted, and the side effects? Well. My hormones went out of balance, and...this is what happened." He gestured vaguely down at himself, shrugging. "Since I came here, there's been two people who have known about Vicious. You're only the second one. And the second one I've told about this." Julia had also been curious about it all.
Faye	"Why are you going to see Vicious?" Faye's gun was hanging between her knees, now, but she was hardly at ease. Even if his story was, admittedly, kind of sad. "Didn't you say he framed you?"
Gren	"I want to find out if he did," Gren told her simply.
Faye	"He'll murder you," Faye explained, like he was an idiot. Because clearly, he was.
Gren	"Death doesn't frighten me," Gren assured her, still in that calm, simple way.
Faye	"You're lying." Death frightened everyone. Except for -- No. Not right now. She couldn't think about him right now. The regret would just take over, because this had all been such a mistake, but right now Faye needed to focus.
Gren	"Either way," Gren said with a shrug as he got up and retrieved that broken music box -- sentimentality always had been his problem, "I don't have long to live."
Faye	And that hurt more to hear than she wanted to admit. Goddammit, she had come here to escape connections, not make new ones. "Why did you bring me here?" Faye asked, soft and miserable.
Gren	"Maybe I wanted to be with someone." For the first time, Gren's voice lost its patience a little and gained a defensive edge. "I don't know."
Faye	"You selfishly help people and take them home, and then you go off to die?" It was like a microcosm of everything Faye had run away from and what she had wanted, more than anything, to leave behind her. Caring about people led to nothing but pain. This, right here, was why you never let yourself care about someone. Not ever. And as Gren turned to face her, maybe to say something in parting, Faye stood from the couch and fired a shot just past his head. Her aim went wild -- not because she was upset, how dare anyone suggest that -- but it didn't matter, anyway, because he was a lot bigger than her. There was a brief scuffle, a disarming, the clink of handcuffs. And then Faye found herself deposited on his bed, and heard the front door shut again. Fuck.

[NFB, NFI, OOC welcome as always. Preplayed with myself and largely adapted from Cowboy Bebop Session 12, 'Jupiter Jazz Pt. I' and warnings apply for a real late-nineties treatment of gender.]