advent ficalendar: December 16th, Cowboy Bebop, for
title: December 16th
disclaimer: nopers, not at all
summary: Spike and Vicious enjoy the rewards of the job.
notes: for clare, for her prompt for my advent ficalendar. *squishes clare so much!!*
Blood dripped down from the lowest branch, almost in time with the tinny, cheesy music playing on the radio. The glass ornaments tinkled as they swayed. The man under the tree was still twitching, but wasting another bullet on him would be more kindness than necessity.
"Merry fucking Christmas," Vicious chuckled. He kicked the body of the man's son, pushing it closer to the bodies of the mother and daughter.
The man gurgled and twitched, and then his body went still. A bit of blood leaked out from his mouth, but it didn't flow. "You're a bastard, you know that?"
"Whatever," Vicious purred, brushing against Spike as he moved to the tree. He pushed the body away, and started to look at the blood-soaked packages. "They've already got this all out so soon. Makes you want to open them, hm?"
Spike shook his head, and went to the window. He didn't expect anyone to come. The nearest house was over nine hundred feet away, and they'd disabled the security system and killed the guards. "You're a child. Those are probably toys."
"Yeah, nice toys," Vicious smirked. "Look at this." He held up a gun case with a gleaming new
Licking his lips, Spike looked around, and raised his eyebrow. In the low lighting provided by the Christmas lights, they had missed it, but. The pudgy bastard under the tree was called The Ninja in some circles after all. He went to the wall display, and took down a sexy katana. "There's something for each of us, then. What do you think?"
Vicious narrowed his eyes, and stalked toward Spike, still carrying the gun case. "Now that is a thing of beauty. A fang for a top level predator, not some bottom feeding scum."
His eyes on the gun, Spike laughed. "Liberating this from an unworthy master makes it all worthwhile, huh?"
"You want this, don't you?" Vicious purred sensually. He held out the gun experimentally. Slowly, Spike held out the katana. Lightening quick, they each let go of their respective item, and snatched the item from the other.
"That went better than I thought it would," Spike mused. He took the gun out of the case and held it, gauging the handling of it. "Beautiful."
"Just what I was thinking," Vicious murmured, running his fingers down the blade. He looked at Spike with a gleam in his eye. "So, what's next? Mistletoe?" He flicked his wrist, and the flat of the blade was against Spike's neck.
Grinning, Spike pressed the gun to Vicious' face. "Fuck off, you prick."
"That's not loaded," Vicious reminded Spike, licking his lips. He leaned in closer…
"Do you think I can't hurt you?" Spike teased.
"I'd like to see you try," Vicious taunted.
Spike leaned in pressing the gun in harder. The edge of the blade bit into him, but his eyes were locked on Vicious'. He pushed the gun down, caressing Vicious' lips roughly with it, pushing it into Vicious' mouth. "Now, that's a good look for you. Maybe we can work on your skills for handling my piece."
Vicious turned the blade and Spike jumped back, chuckling. He carefully holstered the gun. "C'mon. Let's get the hell out of here." Vicious turned, and got the sheath for the katana off the wall.
Spike ran his fingers over the handle of the gun. His first Christmas present.