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The Grand Venusian Hotel
Jun. 9th, 2005 12:16 amIt's a good feeling not to have to worry about money.
Or secret identities or forged passports: the rest of the time here is just plain theirs: whatever they want to do.
What Spike wants is to have room service send up a huge fucking meal and a bottle of champagne and an ice pack for his jaw.
He turns to Beth and can't help but smile, despite the fact that smiling hurts: after a couple hours with the cops, they split the reward with the exception of some Spike skimmed off the top to go toward the Bebop and supplies and, to be fair, to pay for this little vacation. They'll get back to the bar even, whenever they do decide to go back. And they'll be set for a long time.
But right now this hotel is too damn nice to think about leaving, and it's comfortable, and hell, it even has its own balcony with one of those hot tubs where the water changes color in a rainbow pattern while the ever-present cloud cover echoes some of the same colors every time they look up at the sky. He turns to Beth and damn if his heart doesn't skip a little beat all over again: she's amazing. Beautiful and brave and strong and resilient, and up for opportunity and fearless.
I'm one lucky bastard.
He reaches out for her hand. "So, Slim. What's your favorite part about Venus so far?"
Outside, a flock of birds flies by, cawing in a musical but melancholy way. He picks a ripe international-orange berry out of the fruit bowl and pops it into his mouth. Even though chewing hurts too: Baranza packed a mean punch. "Crisisberries. They're sweeter than they look."
Love you.
So damn much.
Or secret identities or forged passports: the rest of the time here is just plain theirs: whatever they want to do.
What Spike wants is to have room service send up a huge fucking meal and a bottle of champagne and an ice pack for his jaw.
He turns to Beth and can't help but smile, despite the fact that smiling hurts: after a couple hours with the cops, they split the reward with the exception of some Spike skimmed off the top to go toward the Bebop and supplies and, to be fair, to pay for this little vacation. They'll get back to the bar even, whenever they do decide to go back. And they'll be set for a long time.
But right now this hotel is too damn nice to think about leaving, and it's comfortable, and hell, it even has its own balcony with one of those hot tubs where the water changes color in a rainbow pattern while the ever-present cloud cover echoes some of the same colors every time they look up at the sky. He turns to Beth and damn if his heart doesn't skip a little beat all over again: she's amazing. Beautiful and brave and strong and resilient, and up for opportunity and fearless.
I'm one lucky bastard.
He reaches out for her hand. "So, Slim. What's your favorite part about Venus so far?"
Outside, a flock of birds flies by, cawing in a musical but melancholy way. He picks a ripe international-orange berry out of the fruit bowl and pops it into his mouth. Even though chewing hurts too: Baranza packed a mean punch. "Crisisberries. They're sweeter than they look."
Love you.
So damn much.
