Title: A Reunion of Comrades

Author: Enigma

Address for feedback: All feedback is to be directed to the webmistress of All That Jazz, Ryoko 03

Series: Cowboy Bebop

Written: February, 2002

Rating: NC-17

Pairings: (Vicious x Gren) (miscellaneous others in background)

Category: Yaoi Angst Romance Lemon Sap Blood Faye-Bashing Humor. AU-OOC. Giftfic.

Archive: fanfiction.net [author: "E-sama the Llama"], All that Jazz: https://www.angelfire.com/blues/spacecowgirl

Spoilers: Session 12: Jupiter Jazz, part 1 (see Notes below)

Warnings: yaoi, angst, romance, lemon, sap, blood, both literal and figurative Faye-bashing, occasionally rude humor, coarse language, obvious yet unnamed guest stars, lots of series continuity, an actual plot, fluff, and general silliness. AU-OOC. Giftfic for Ryoko.

Disclaimer: Cowboy Bebop is the property of Sunrise. This unauthorized work of fanfiction is intended for entertainment only; kindly do not sue me, I have no money.

Lemon Disclaimer: Kindly note that in the Real World, "safe" sex should be practiced at all times. However, this is an "Enigma Yaoi Romance Lemon" and all bishounen in question are hence magically protected against the dangers of sexually transmissible diseases, therefore they can skip the condoms -- and they know it!

Notes: This story follows the series timeline up until the scene in Jupiter Jazz, part 1, opening with Faye in the bar with Gren playing sax on stage. The plot then takes a radical 90° turn and ignores it thereafter even as it observes what a single change does for one key character. Furthermore, since this is a giftfic for someone who happens to like happy things, Vicious is definitely more gentle than many people might expect him to be here and Gren is a little more feminine for the same reason. Don't shoot me, I'm just the messenger of my muses.

Summary: Vicious reunites with his lover, Gren, whom he hasn't seen since the war on Titan and romance and angst ensue.

{{flashback}}

*****

In a darkened booth of a smoky bar in a dingy city, a dangerously handsome man with white hair quietly sipped his glass of Barton's Canadian Whisky over ice and enjoyed a haunting melody performed by someone he hadn't seen in three long years.

The slender man on the stage played the saxophone with a passion borne of years of suffering and a life which had been forced off-track when he was betrayed by someone he had trusted, yet it wasn't whom he had assumed it'd been at the time. Grencia Mars Elijah Guo Eckner had been told it was his first lover, a man whose only name was an adjective which meant "cruel," that had placed a signaling device in a gift and thereby set him up for a prison term.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

In fact, it had been another soldier in their battalion who was jealous of the obvious love and affection they shared that had seen to it that Gren left the hell of the battlefield and went straight to the hell of prison. But that was neither here nor there now, he was a free man of sorts in the city of Blue Crow on Callisto and life was good.

A young emerald-eyed waiter approached the table where the white-haired man had just lit a cigarette and asked him if he needed another drink.

"In a minute," Vicious answered, his voice as deep and gravely as always. Then he reached into his pocket and drew out some cash and a sheet of paper with a pen. He jotted a few words on the paper and handed it and the money to the boy who waited patiently and said, "I'd like to make a request of the musicians. Can you take care of it for me? I prefer my privacy, so don't indicate who asked if you'd like a larger tip next time, understand?"

The boy brushed unnaturally long auburn bangs from his eyes, saw the amount he was being offered and nodded with a shy smile, "Yes sir, I'll be glad to take care of it for you."

"Very good," Piercing violet eyes regarded the boy and he added, "I'll take that drink after the song, all right?"

"Certainly, sir, I'll be back with it then," the handsome youth strode away, dropping off the request with the pianist who could talk more easily than the man who was still performing a soulful rendition of an original piece. Vicious' eyes followed the waiter, curious if his request would be granted or not and unintentionally found himself distracted by some of the other people in the bar.

After the accompanist nodded his understanding of the request, the waiter made his way to the bar where he joined his partner, an exotic Chinese boy with the powerful build of a long-time martial artist.

The two gazed meaningfully at one another for a moment before the waiter bent down to whisper something in the ear of the oriental boy who was busy preparing a Zombie for a bespectacled man at the bar. A look of stunned amazement crossed the youthful bartender's face and then he laughed slightly, whispered something back, and the taller of the pair blushed a furious red before vanishing into the back behind a curtain.

Chuckling to himself, the Asian boy delivered the drink to the patron who tipped him generously and then disappeared behind the curtain as well.

The man at the bar sipped his flavorful and overly-strong drink then returned to watching the woman at the end of the bar with a certain amount of amusement. He'd brought with him the latest issue of Newtype, yet it sat on the barstool beside him untouched, the sole female in the establishment was far more entertaining than the latest anime news.

Perched on a bar stool and seemingly in danger of falling off of it at any moment, was a busty woman in far too little clothing for a cold moon like Callisto. A "barely there" yellow vinyl shirt fit her too tightly and made her breasts look like overripe grapefruit ready to fall from a tree instead of the feminine and attractive things they might have been in a more tailored garment. The cheeks of her ass hung out from beneath her matching yellow vinyl hot pants and left an unattractive band of naked flesh above thigh-high stockings which were grotesquely last season.

Chortling to himself as the girl tried to order another drink from no one since the bartending bishounen had yet to return, the man studiously ignored small, sensual noises coming from behind the curtain, it really wasn't any of his business.

On stage, the saxophonist stopped to get a much needed drink of water and Vicious' attention was once more riveted on the man he'd come so far to see.

The pianist was explaining the request and the long-haired musician was nodding contemplatively and was clearly interested in who had asked for a song he hadn't performed in years. He looked out over the audience wondering who had asked for it, yet Vicious was deliberately concealed behind a cigarette generated smokescreen and he smiled to himself secretly, enjoying the look on Gren's face as blue-green eyes scanned past him.

With a shrug, Gren licked his lips before placing his instrument in his mouth and beginning to blow into it, once more creating the soulful sounds Vicious longed to hear.

As "Space Lion" filled the air, Vicious' thoughts went back to the time they had met and he smiled to himself as images of younger versions of themselves manifested, sitting together on the curry-colored sands of Titan between sorties against the enemy.

{{flashback}}

Initially, Gren had reminded him of an old movie about Lawrence of Arabia, his neck scarf hanging from a jauntily worn headpiece. With the flick of his lighter, Vicious offered the attractive man a light and joined him in a cigarette quietly, not talking together, simply enjoying the rare peace in a sea of conflict. Eventually, he'd shared a tune on the tiny music-box he'd brought with him, a gift from a woman who had betrayed him with the help of his one-time best friend. His two former lovers having left him deliberately in the most dangerous position they could imagine. When the ocean-eyed youth expressed an interest in the small instrument, he'd gladly given it to him, no longer wishing to be reminded of a woman with lustrous hair of gold and a poisonous heart of lead.

A look of delight had filled Gren's eyes and Vicious decided then and there he wanted to see that expression more often. As he rose to leave the man his heart was telling him he should never allow out of his sight, he spotted a deadly Titan scorpion making its way silently towards his new friend. With an anger that surprised even him, he brandished his knife, pressed Gren's head against the rock he was leaning on to insure that he didn't flinch into the path of the blade, and ended the insect's life without a second thought.

Blinking in shock like a kitten who has discovered the ball of fluff he was playing with was actually a frightened field mouse, Gren stared up at Vicious and barely found the words to thank him before the mysterious violet-eyed man walked away.

It had taken all of Vicious' self-control that day to actually step away at all, but he knew the company commander wouldn't forgive him if he missed a battle planning session and so he went. That night, as he lay alone in the tent left half-vacant by the death of the former platoon leader whose position he now held, a mournful tune drew his attention and he rose from his bedroll and stepped into the starry night.

Not far away from his tent, sitting by a campfire alone and looking decidedly lonely, Gren was playing a harmonica he'd borrowed from another soldier. Sadly, it was the soldier who would eventually betray him and he'd thought the loan of the mouth organ might aid in his quest to seduce the lavender-haired man yet it didn't. Instead, it only provided an excuse for Vicious to join Gren.

Once more the pair sat in silence for a moment before Vicious pulled out his cigarettes, lit two at the same time and offered one to Gren who accepted it gratefully, surprised and pleased by the lingering taste of the other man's lips when he took his first drag on it. Blowing smoke slowly into the night sky, the usually shy musician had asked why Vicious was awake at such a late hour.

The white-haired man had merely shrugged, and asked the same thing in return.

The conversation was utterly forgettable after the initial breaking of the ice, but by dawn, the pair had mutually agreed to see what there could be between them should they both survive the coming battle.

The conflict that day had been hard-fought with heavy casualties on both sides. As platoon leader, Vicious had been in a terribly vulnerable position and had suffered a serious wound when a bullet crashed through the sleeve of his uniform, passing through it cleanly after missing the bone, and sending twin bright red flows of blood showering across the saffron-colored sand.

With a scream of fury, Gren had come from seemingly nowhere and had ended the gunman's life with greater anger than he himself had thought he'd ever feel.

Vicious was stunned by the slightly older soldier's actions and willing allowed the man to pull him away from the frontlines to the rear, where Gren tore the sand scarf from around his neck and turned it into a bandage for the bleeding arm, growling angry words against the enemy the entire time. The white-haired man was surprised but not entirely shocked when the other man insisted that he remain out of the battle and then got up to leave intending to fight on behalf of both of them.

A single pale hand lashed out and grasped a tanned wrist and pulled him back. Vicious gazed up at his rescuer and stated coolly that if he wasn't going back to the frontline, neither was Gren. The slightly shorter man cocked his head in curiosity, unsure why he was being stopped, didn't Vicious as platoon leader want to see them win the battle?

Vicious shook his head and stated quietly that even winning the entire war would mean nothing if Gren was lost as he feared he might be, the tides were shifting against the allies. Amazed, the ocean-eyed man stood there a moment and then the sound of shouts of retreat echoed through the troops and a sudden stampede of humanity bore down on them.

Scrambling to his feet, Vicious kept his grasp on Gren as they joined the mass exodus from the field of conflict. They ran side-by-side, rifles bouncing against their backs, fear for each other in their hearts even as overhead artillery finally burst into life, shelling the enemy into a retreat of their own and leaving the allies to escape to freedom.

Returning to the base camp, virtually all of the survivors of the battle simply collapsed wherever their feet stopped, soldiers laying sprawled about on the ochre sand uncaringly. Field medics rushed about tending to the wounded and by the time they reached Vicious, he was unconscious from blood loss.

Gren stayed by his side throughout a brief session of suturing and disinfecting, then patiently held aloft the bag of synthetic type O negative blood that flowed into the ashen-faced man's body, replenishing his fluids and restoring him to awareness. Exhausted and pain-filled violet eyes opened slowly to peer up at the face of a worried angel.

Relieved beyond words, Gren had foregone the ritual of asking if the other man was all right, preferring instead to show his gratitude to Vicious for awakening with a quick, chaste kiss. Growling as his uninjured arm rose suddenly and wrapped itself around the other man's neck, Vicious pulled Gren back down for a deeper more meaningful kiss that clearly established which of the two of them would be the leader of far more than battle.

Astounded, pleased, flattered, and suddenly aware of the many eyes in the camp that were upon them, Gren blushed fiercely and pulled away, warning quietly that Vicious needed to lie still and allow the blood to enter his body before he tried to do too much. His partner chuckled darkly, warned him that he expected to feel like doing quiet a bit more than simply kissing him as soon as they'd eaten some of the dinner that the camp cook was busy preparing, and Gren nodded and blushed even more.

That night they became more than comrades, they became lovers and experienced a brief and intense love affair until the soldier who felt he'd been unfairly rejected by Gren sought his revenge. Vicious had been away from camp when the Military Police arrested the long-haired man and he hadn't seen him since.

{{end flashback}}

But, as the saying goes, that was then, this is now, and here he sat, mere meters away from his former lover, enjoying for the first time hearing the tune Gren had played on the harmonica by the campfire so long ago.

As the song ended, Vicious' thoughts focused back on the present and he glanced up at the slightly tousled looking auburn-haired boy whose shirt was misbuttoned rather amusingly.

"Your drink, sir," the waiter offered, placing the fresh glass of Barton's Canadian in front of Vicious with a slightly shaky hand. He ran his hand through the too-long bangs and asked, "Was that the right song, sir?"

Taking a sip of the smooth alcohol before reaching for more bills to cover the cost of the drink as well as a generous tip for the youth, Vicious answered, "Yes, it was perfect. Doesn't he include it in his usual sets? It used to be one of his favorites."

The emerald-eyed boy smiled shyly and admitted, "I never heard Gren play that one before, I liked it a lot. I'm glad you asked for it."

Vicious merely nodded and sipped at the deep amber liquid again before saying quietly, "So am I. By the way, you might tell your boyfriend that hickeys really don't make a person as likely to believe you're as old as you must be claiming you are to legally serve liquor, son."

The waiter's hand flew to the side of his neck and he flushed scarlet before making a small strangling sound and dashing off intending to find the turtleneck he usually wore and silently cursing his amorous lover who didn't seem to care about appearances.

Chuckling to himself, Vicious watched as Gren thanked the audience for listening to his performance, then packed up his saxophone and grabbed his warm leather jacket, preparing to go out into the snow on his way home for a few hours of rest before his evening sessions. As he walked past the sleazy-looking woman at the bar, she sneezed three times in a row, never once having the good manners to cover her mouth.

Ever courteous even to those who didn't deserve it, Gren turned and said, "Take care."

The woman gazed at him stupidly, not understanding the local version of the more familiar wishes for good health like "Bless you" or even the German derived phrase "Gesundheit."

Realizing she was as clueless about being polite as she obviously was about fashion, Gren added, "That was a close one."

A brief discussion between them revealed that it was a local fable that to sneeze thrice without someone wishing you well meant the sneezer would become a fairy. The trollop insisted she already *was* a fairy, and it was all that Gren could do not to laugh in her crimson-lipped face and tell her she had obviously already fallen too far from grace to be such a wondrous creature.

Even as Vicious looked on from his dark booth, Gren gallantly offered her his jacket for warmth, a kind gesture she eventually spurned before flouncing out like the ten-woolong hooker she appeared to be.

Chuckling from his spot at the bar, the man with the glasses finished his Zombie and ordered another from the chagrinned looking Chinese youth whose face currently bore the marks of a playfully light slap intended to remind him that there was a perfectly good bed at home. The older man looked at the younger one and muttered quietly, "Love can be hell, can't it, friend?"

"That's for damned sure," the bartender growled. He then gazed longingly at the waiter who had just stepped out from behind the curtain wearing a deep green turtleneck that covered the unsightly lovebite Vicious had noticed and he added with a sigh, "But what can you do when the one you love is so angelic?"

Nodding his understanding, the older man patiently awaited his drink and noticed the white-haired man materializing seemingly out of nowhere as Vicious rose from his dark booth and stepped up behind Gren, saying, "It's been a long time, Gren."

The musician's eyes went wide. The low gravelly voice was unmistakable, the tone and timbre belonged to one man and one man alone and hearing it for the first time in three years sent an electric shock of joy through him. Spinning around, ocean-colored eyes met those like tiny shards of amethyst and he exclaimed, "Vicious!! What are *you* doing here?"

The musician's heart was beating like that of a hummingbird and he thought it might explode even as the other man answered simply, "I came here looking for you, of course." Realizing they were drawing undesired attention as the waiter, bartender, and the patron sipping his Zombie all stared at them, he added meaningfully, "Why don't we sit down and talk, Gren? Like I said, it's been a long time."

Swallowing thickly, suddenly nervous and yet feeling such overwhelming joy at being in this man's presence again, Gren nodded and simply held a hand out toward the bartender, two fingers upraised to indicate he wanted a double of almost anything that was handy.

Chuckling as he poured two shots of the Barton's that was still sitting on the counter, the bartender tried not to speculate on the situation even as Gren slid into the bench opposite Vicious and ran a nervous hand through his loose pony-tail of deep lavender silk.

After clearing his throat, Gren looked up into the scarred face he'd fallen in love with in the middle of a war and asked, "How'd you find me, Vicious? I didn't tell the Red Dragons where I worked."

Sipping at his own glass of Canadian whisky as the emerald-eyed waiter delivered Gren's with a small smile of encouragement for them both, Vicious waited a bit before replying, "True, you didn't tell the Syndicate much of anything. But by contacting them and offering to be the middleman for a Lunar Red Eye deal, I assumed that you were really just trying to get in touch with me." He shrugged elegantly and added, "As for locating you here, it was fairly easy. There's a large blond man who goes by the name of 'Julius' who performs more than one service for money, you know."

"*What*?!" Gren exclaimed, angry to think he'd been betrayed yet again, but before he could denounce the cross-dressing prostitute, Vicious reached into his jacket and withdrew a tattered photo and handed it to him. Peering at the image, the saxophonist immediately recognized it as a copy of one he himself once foolishly tore in half that was taped back together and prominently displayed in his living room.

On the paper, in warm sepia tones, Gren's own face, three years younger and not as world-weary as he was now, smiled at him, lines of anti-glare grease smeared under his eyes. Behind him in profile was a younger Vicious, not willing to look into the camera yet not willing to leave his handsome lover's presence if he didn't have to. The photo had been well-loved as evidenced by the tattered edges and small dots where it had encountered unfriendly substances over the years.

As he stared at the image, Vicious explained, "I told him I was one of your comrades from the war, Gren, and that I wanted to see you again. He was hesitant at first, fearing I might be a bounty hunter looking for you to collect on the currently doubled reward. But after I showed him that, Julius agreed and sent me here."

"Ah, I see," the long-haired man nodded, grateful to know one of his friends hadn't betrayed him after all. With trembling hands, he returned the photo and sipped his drink, desperately trying to decide which of the million questions he wanted answers to should he ask first.

"But that wasn't all he told me, Gren," Vicious spoke softly, his voice unbelievably deeper and roughened by an emotion he hadn't expressed in years. "He tells me you've changed physically and that you're sick, is this true?"

A saddened countenance lifted and Gren nodded slowly, his own questions washing away in the briefest of instances and he answered, "Yes to both, Vicious, but please, could those topics wait until we can go somewhere more private?" Blue-green eyes shifted from side-to-side and despite the fact that they were being totally ignored by all the other patrons in the bar, he added, "After we finish our drinks, we can go to my place and I'll tell you all about it, all right? Just not here, not in front of my friends and coworkers."

Vicious nodded slowly and agreed in a tone that said a postponement was acceptable but trying to avoid the issue entirely was not, "Very well, Gren, we'll let that wait for now. But I will not leave the matter undisclosed for long, I'm not willing to allow further damage to occur that I might be able to stop."

Gren looked up at him gratefully and accepted, "I understand. We'll go there in a bit, and I'll answer all your questions then, Vicious." He paused and recalled his own concerns and added more decisively, "That is, I'll tell you what you want to know if you agree to answer a few questions for me, too. There's an awful lot of past history that never made sense to me and I hope you can clarify it for me."

"Very well," Vicious nodded and then allowed the conversation to drift somewhat as they discussed small matters of relative unimportance like the way he'd sent the ever-honor-bound Lin off on a fool's errand earlier in the day and so forth.

Gren relaxed and enjoyed the shifting topics even as the waiter brought them a tray of food unasked, after his boyfriend decided that as bartender it was his duty to see to it their evening's entertainer wouldn't get drunk before he could get home and eat. The violet-eyed man glanced appreciatively at the waiter and handed him yet another tip before sharing the small meal with his former comrade and lover.

*****

Meanwhile, several blocks away from the restaurant, the sleazy tramp who fancied herself a tough broad, was bored.

Unwisely seeking amusement and exercise by inciting a group of local thugs into a street fight, Faye Valentine called out to its leader, a rough-looking man who had already lost one fight that afternoon to a truly accomplished martial artist. The man growled at her and indicated he didn't like women, a rather obvious statement considering he lived in a town that didn't allow females to take up residency in it anyway, he began to advance menacingly.

Pulling a glove from her pocket, the bimbo saucily proclaimed, "I might chip a nail!" Then she turned and beckoned for the angry men to attack her.

The fight that ensued was at first going in her favor. However, since Gren was busy talking to someone whom he truly wished to be with and was thereby unavailable to arrive like a knight on a white charger to save her reckless soul, she eventually found herself being pummeled into a sniveling mess.

One final punch to her already bruised jaw split the woman's lower lip wide open and sent her face first into the pavement, knocking the wind out of her. Whimpering, she stayed put as the men threw insults at her and then turned and walked away, leaving her like the street trash she resembled nine days out of ten.

Dazed, Faye just laid there in a small pool of blood for several minutes before hearing heavy, bulbous shoes that always reminded her of Bozo the Clown stepping towards her. With a supreme effort, she rolled over and peered up through her battle-tousled hair and saw Spike Spiegel move to crouch down over her with a smirk around his omnipresent cigarette.

Pulling the cancer stick from his lips, he asked teasingly, "What's the matter, Faye? Did you break a nail?"

"Fuck you, Spiegel," the tart growled and then whimpered as her lip started bleeding again.

The green-haired man laughed at his shipmate, then helped her to her feet. They stumbled back to the hangar where the Bebop was parked where sooner or later, Jet would return and bitch them both out for bleeding on the decks and not cleaning it up. In the background, an adorable wild child of a girl with Pikachu-cheeks bounded after a dog, singing out some odd song with cat-like meows in the middle of it. After sighing a much put upon sigh, the large man would don his apron, mop the floor clean once more, and then the ship would depart in search of more lucrative things than rumored locations of evil blondes.

*****

By the time their drinks and food were gone, both Vicious and Gren were feeling more relaxed and they made their way through the now heavier snow to the long-haired man's apartment in a god-awful ugly blue building. After giving his guest a towel for his hair and getting one for himself, Gren poured them both a round of Vodka warmed with steaming hot water and they savored their drinks in companionable peace for a few minutes.

Inevitably, the subjects raised in the bar returned and it was a slow and somewhat painful process of explanation as they each bared their soul in the hope of regaining what they once had.

Feeling horribly guilty for the weakness that led him on a self-destructive path, Gren explained how the drug addiction he'd developed in prison led to unexpected hormonal imbalances that resulted in his developing decidedly feminine breasts and other changes.

To his amazement, Vicious refused to condemn him.

The Red Dragon member knew all too well the pull of a broken heart to search for ways to ease the pain. He himself had returned from Titan woebegone and utterly lost in the miasma that surrounded him after the military repeatedly refused him visitation rights so he could see Gren in prison. Instead of turning to pharmaceuticals to soothe his pain, though, he threw himself back into the killer's lifestyle he had thought he'd abandoned for good the first time he left the Syndicate to join the war where he had sincerely hoped to die an honorable death.

Rapidly climbing the rungs of power within the criminal organization, Vicious eventually felt what he thought was the last of his humanity drain away when he fought his former best friend and one time lover in the ruins of an abandoned cathedral. As the pain of Spike's bullet in his shoulder barely registered, the greater sorrow of watching him falling through the air to his probable death despite Vicious' deliberately redirected katana strike which had meant to spare the green-haired man sank in. Yet before even that searing pain was brought into awareness, the clacking of a grenade against the cathedral floor presaged what should have been the katana-wielding man's doom.

Smiling despite the pain, Vicious had regarded the small explosive device with gladness when he thought he was about to die at relatively the same exact time as Spike, yet Destiny is a hateful thing and he survived the blast despite having third-degree burns over much of his body. By the time he awoke from a coma much later, he'd been given advanced medical treatment that left him with only a modicum of scarring on his body, and virtually an assured future as the crowned prince of the Red Dragons.

Vicious explained much of this story to Gren as payment in kind for his own tortured revelations and then he inquired further as to the saxophonist's illness.

With a deep sigh of finality and a shake of his head that sent loose lavender tendrils floating about him ethereally, Gren explained the slow degeneration of some of his internal organs and that the last time he'd seen a doctor, he'd been given only a few months to live. Eyes the color of the ocean during a storm at sea rose to gaze apologetically at Vicious as he added, "That's why I contacted you now. I wanted to see you one last time before I die."

Moving forward on the couch to reach out and gather Gren's hands into his own, Vicious stated flatly, "I'm not going to let you die, Gren. I have no idea how good the doctors are in this godforsaken, polluted city, but I'm sure that the people who handled my burns can help you." Holding Gren's gaze he added in an earnest tone that brooked no room for argument, "When I leave Blue Crow, you’re coming with me. You shouldn't play your music for drunks and bimbos when you deserve to perform in concert halls."

Gren shook his head in negation, "But I can't *do* that, Vicious! I'm a wanted man for the prison break I was involved in that allowed me to escape when I did! Blue Crow is the only place I'm safe, don't you see that?"

"No, I don't," Vicious answered flatly and something entered his eyes that told Gren how dangerous and powerful his former lover truly was. A mere glance from him now demonstrated how it was that Vicious was the recently deceased Mao Yenrai's heir apparent, he could command Death to stay at bay and the Grim Reaper would listen. With a conviction that was unwavering, he explained, "The warrant for your arrest is about to expire. That's why the bounty for you is currently double. All we have to do is keep you hidden for another month at most and you will be a free man, Gren. And since the medical treatment you may need might take that length of time, it will be an easy enough thing to accomplish for both benefits. Cost is no object, either, so you'll have only the best physicians and I swear that you *will* be healed regardless!"

Shocked and yet deeply gratified, Gren pulled one hand away and brought it trembling to one moisture-laden eye to dash away his tears as he asked, "You'd do all that for me? But we haven't even seen each other in three years, Vicious."

The white-haired man sighed and shook his head in mild anger directed at himself, "I know how long it's been, Gren. I've been searching for you since you escaped prison. I may be powerful in certain circles, but finding a man who wishes to be lost in the Solar System is virtually impossible." With a small hint of a smile, he added, "But you changed all that when you made the initial contact for the drug deal. I knew where you were and came immediately. Nothing and no one could keep me from your side once I knew where you were. I've missed you and wanted you back."

Luminous blue-green eyes searched smoldering violet ones and Gren asked in amazement, "You came all this way because you wanted me *that* way? For all you know, I might be married or something. Why say such things without knowing whether or not I'm in a relationship with someone else?"

Not uncertain in the least, Vicious merely nodded his head and said, "I realize that, Gren. Before I arrived, I decided that if I found you and you were with someone else and truly happy, then I would wish you a long and prosperous life and then vanish like the ghost many believed me to be when I returned to the Syndicate." He gauged the other man's response carefully, then added, "However, if you were even half as lost and lonely as I was, I fully intended on convincing you to come back with me, to give what we had on Titan a chance somewhere new. It was never just about sex, you know."

Startled, Gren blinked at him as if he hadn't truly seen this person before and in truth, he probably hadn't. The man sitting in front of him and holding his hands clasped warmly in his own was a masterwork of contradictions.

The thin scars beneath Vicious' eyes should have rendered him ugly, yet they only added to his rugged allure. Small intense violet eyes should have given the white-haired man a sense of reptilian danger but somehow they looked like fragments of jewels left afloat in a sea of pure white ivory. White hair that held streaks of gray should've made him look old and even more tired than he was actually only added to his alabaster complexion's exotic beauty.

Physically, he was tall, wiry, and thin but still powerful thanks to years of swordsmanship which had rendered him more deadly with an ancient katana than most men were with a gun. Gren's mind's eye recalled that perfection of form of that body radiantly nude before him beneath a tent during a rare moment of peace granted by a sandstorm on Titan. He further recalled how well-endowed the man was sexually and it sent a shiver of desire through him as he envisioned feeling the incredible sense of fullness and safety he had only experienced when his lover was within him.

Noting the slightly older man's sudden tremble, Vicious asked, "Are you cold, Gren?" In his concern for the man he cared so deeply for, he forgot that his own comments about those emotions had gone unanswered, and he added, "We both got fairly well soaked in the snow. Maybe you should take a shower and warm up."

Even though he started to deny the allegation and hoped to pursue more of the discussion regarding just what it was *exactly* that Vicious wanted out of this new relationship, Gren's current state of arousal made him change his mind. He answered seductively, "Actually, that sounds like a great idea, Vicious." Unexpectedly, he leaned forward and placed a tentative kiss on the other man's lips before adding, "That is, it's a great idea if you'll join me?"

Pleased beyond words that history seemed to be repeating itself, the younger of the two growled low in his throat and released Gren's hands from his own so he could reach out and wrap them around the other man's neck and draw him forward once more. After returning the kiss with greater heat and passion than even he himself had expected, Vicious answered in his rumbling growl that sounded like a hungry tiger's purr, "I'd like nothing better, Gren."

Sudden realization of the exact wording of his request hit the ocean-eyed man and Gren flushed rose from high, well-defined cheekbones, down to flawless skin that peeked out of his open-collared red silk shirt. Swallowing thickly, he nodded and then agreed to not only a shower but also to everything else the amethyst-eyed man was offering him, saying, "Same here."

Standing, Vicious extended his hand and helped his once-and-future lover to his feet before pulling him in for another deep soul-kiss that wasn't hesitant as tongues immediately danced and dueled, lovingly tasting what had gone untasted for too three years.

When the kiss broke apart so they could breathe once more, Gren moaned, "Oh, god! It's been too long!"

Despite his desire to see the man in his arms naked and writhing beneath him as soon as possible, Vicious paused before attacking the buttons on the red silk shirt and asked in a breathless growl, "What do you mean, Gren?"

Anxious finger entwined themselves in white hair as the ocean-eyed man admitted shyly, "I, well, I haven't known another's touch since that last night with you on Titan, Vicious." His eyes slipped shut and he shook his head, adding, "I never wanted anyone but you. And even when they told me you were the one who sent me to prison and I felt as if I should hate you for leaving me in such a horrible situation, I still didn't want anyone but you. I'm so pathetic, I'm sorry."

Feeling as if his heart was filled to overflowing with an emotion he'd assumed would never be his again, Vicious answered by placing a swordhilt-callused but warm palm against the other man's silken cheek as he stated, "You are *not* pathetic, Gren." As he saw the other man open his eyes once again he continued, "You're not the only one who hasn't taken a lover in the last three years. I felt the same way and for other reasons as well, I decided not to pursue a relationship after we were separated. You're right, it *has* been too long. For both of us."

Vicious deliberately chose not to mention that he had felt dead inside for so much of the time they had been apart and dead men had no need of companionship even when it might have meant their humanity might have been preserved during an inhuman period. His descent into madness, however, had come to a halt when he'd heard Gren had been in contact with the Red Dragons and even now, as they confessed their unwittingly shared periods of abstinence, he felt himself returning to emotional balance.

Moaning softly as he realized that in many ways their impending physical union would be a reawakening for them both, Gren begged softly, "Then please, can we get out of these clothes and actually *do* something about it? I've missed you terribly and I want you inside me soon, Vicious. Please!"

His answer was a low, throaty growl and nimble fingers moving to quickly unbutton the loose red silk shirt which concealed Gren's greatest secrets which he still feared might be less than enticing to the man he was with, but he needn't have feared. Surprisingly, despite his history of being in a menage a trois with the two people he once loved that both betrayed him, Vicious was rather confused about his own sexuality. He had assumed he was a bisexual in all senses of the word having enjoyed at least some of what Julia had offered, yet now as he slowly revealed the silken roundness of Gren's breasts, he had an epiphany.

Uncovering his partner's unique physique, the white-haired man moaned softly and took both soft mounds into his hands, cupping them gently, lifting and massaging the firm flesh and finding them to be infinitely erotic and desirable. Vicious glanced up from where his eyes had been glued to the unusual shapes in his hands and admitted to Gren, "Gods, you are so beautiful, Gren. I never imagined I'd see or even be allowed to touch anything as wonderful as this!"

There are no words that could possibly describe the sense of relief and gratitude that filled the purple-haired man's heart to hear such words in a tone so pure and filled with love.

The few people who had been fully aware of his strange metamorphosis had been mostly doctors who treated him like either a freak of nature or an interesting research subject to be poked and prodded yet never appreciated. To have a man as accomplished and worldly wise as Vicious praising and petting him in such a tender fashion made him happier than he felt he had a right to be and tears filled his eyes as he accepted the kindness in a trembling voice, "Th-thank you, Vicious. I hadn't dared to hope that you would even accept me once you saw them, but to hear that you really like them makes me feel so much better about myself."

"'Like them'?" Vicious asked in mild amusement even as he continued to fondle the man's chest, thumbs caressing Gren's nipples and coaxing them into a state of arousal. He couldn't prevent the small thoughtful smile that crept onto his lips as he pondered the many times he had wished Julia, traitorous bitch that she was, had been a man with breasts yet had thought such a thing would be rarer than unicorns. However, now that he held such a creature in his arms, warm, loving and all his, he could more easily use a word he had foregone for a long time, declaring, "I absolutely *love* them, Gren! I've never seen anything more erotic or sensual in my life and all I want to do is make love to you and feel them pressed to me as you scream in passion!"

"Oh, damn, *yes*!" Gren exclaimed, finally snapped back to reality and urgent in his need once more. Losing much of his gentleness for a brief moment, the transexual reached between their bodies and took hold of Vicious' gray dress shirt in both hands and ripped it open sending buttons flying across the floor, pinging as they encountered bookcases and slipping from view.

Laughing as his own scarred yet still ruggedly handsome chest was exposed to passionate fingers and a sweet mouth that wished to re-explore him, Vicious asked tenderly, "No longer patient, my" he hesitated only a moment, afraid to use the word twice, yet no longer willing to leave how he felt unsaid he forged ahead, "love?"

Disbelieving yet hopeful blue-green eyes gazed up at him and even as Vicious unbound the loose pony-tail and allowed a cascade of dark lavender hair to flow around them, Gren asked, "'Love', Vicious? Is that what you called me, or am I hallucinating? Is this really just yet another dream like so many I've had about being in your arms again?"

"This is definitely *not* a figment of your imagination, Gren-love," Vicious stated gently and threaded his fingers through the silken hair that was everywhere now. "It feels like a dream come to life, yes, but it *is* real as is the fact that I intend to take you away from this place to somewhere safer that we can be together this way for the rest of our lives if we want to be."

Gren felt as if he might melt as he promised, "Oh, yes, I *do* want it to be that way, darling Vicious! Please, I want to be yours and only yours always!"

"Then so be it," the amethyst-eyed man stated before bringing their mouths together in a deep soul-kiss to seal the agreement in the only way such vows of love should ever be sealed.

They stood together lost in their emotions for only a moment, and then the cool air on damp exposed skin reminded them of where they had been headed when they had left the warm glasses of Vodka behind. With a shared shiver as the heating system that wasn't doing much but stir the too-chilly air around them turned on again, they separated and quickly finished undressing.

Stepping out of his slim, perfectly fitted pants pooled with discarded boxers on the floor and standing before his lover once more fully revealed, Gren bit back the desire to ask if Vicious liked what he saw. His waist was now narrower than what was typical for a man and his hips as well as had changed, becoming more rounded than they had been on Titan. The hormonal imbalance hadn't failed to grant more feminizing of other parts of his body than just his chest, of course. Luckily, however, there had been no change in the form or function of his most masculine of body parts and it was all Vicious could do to keep from gently but firmly pushing the unique man to the floor and taking him then and there.

Growling his appreciation and need for Gren in a wordless expression of desire, Vicious, kicked aside his own discarded steel gray pants never once thinking about what the sight of his own body might mean to the gentle man in front of him.

Gren fought a desire to cry again as he took in the numerous scars that decorated his partner's body. The burn scars though fairly recent were indeed not too hideous, mostly confined to areas that were difficult to heal under even the best of situations, but the various bullet wounds and occasional slashing lines that indicated survival of various sword-and-knife battles were hard to deal with. Trembling fingers reached out and caressed the puckered skin in his shoulder where Spike's vengeful bullet had penetrated before tracking to lightly skim over some of the others.

"Shh, don't worry about those, love," Vicious cautioned in a soft, understanding tone, suddenly aware that he was causing Gren distress during a moment that should have been filled with nothing but passion and pleasure.

"But, darling, there's so many of them," the ocean-eyed man gazed up at his partner, the one-inch height difference between them suddenly seeming greater.

"They aren't important, Gren," the gravelly voice assured, then Vicious took Gren's hand and directed it to the marks on one arm left behind by the field medic and he added encouragingly, "Only this one matters, love. The one that has reminded me of you every time I saw it day after day. It kept me alive when nothing else could, simply because it made me think of you."

"Oh gods!" Gren gasped, gently exploring the scars on both sides of the arm before bending over and kissing them and saying, "Then I'll be forever grateful that they were there and you came back to me, my Vicious."

The younger of the two ran a hand comfortingly through long silken waves before stating decisively, "Come now, Gren-love. Enough living in the past, let's live in the present."

Smiling once more, Gren dashed tears from his eyes and straightened up saying, "You're right of course! Let's go get that shower."

"Excellent idea," Vicious agreed and followed as Gren lead him to the tastefully decorated small bathroom the apartment boasted. As the water heated far more quickly than Vicious had expected it would, the lavender-haired man busied himself selecting large bath sheets for after they were done and arranged the inside of the shower enclosure to suit himself.

Once satisfied with his preparations, Gren pulled the curtain open and gestured for Vicious to join him as he stepped in under the water. The white-haired man hung back for only a moment, enjoying the sight of glistening water droplets running down his beloved's unique form and dripping enticingly from the tips of those amazing breasts.

With a soft chuckle of delight that his lover truly did find him as attractive as he claimed to, Gren turned and bent slightly to adjust the temperature of the spray above them both. The sight of his smooth back and firm, well-muscled buttocks brought a quick and decisive response from Vicious who moved to press himself almost flush to the body that called to him like a siren's song.

Running one hand up to cup a firm breast even as the other slipped down the curve of Gren's ass, the white-haired man growled softly, "What've you got in here I can use for lube, love? I don't want to wait much longer."

An expression of need and desire crossed Gren's face as he handed his partner a bottle of body wash that seemed gentle enough for the purpose, heaven knew he didn't have any actual lubricant in his apartment, he'd been celibate too long to even consider owning any. "Will this do?" he asked hopefully.

Grateful that they had something to make their union easier, Vicious thanked him with a kiss to a slippery shoulder and a wet finger lightly probing his hidden entrance as he said in a rumbling purr, "Absolutely, Gren-love. Are you ready for more?"

Moaning tremulously, Gren moved to brace himself with both hands against the shower enclosure and spread his legs as well as he could, then begged, "Yes, quickly! I *need* you now, Vicious!"

Feeling a tingle of pure need of his own, the white-haired man accepted both the spoken and unspoken invitations and moved quickly to grant his lover's request. Fingers slicked with body wash moved with unforgotten skill to quickly stretch and ready his lover's body, efficiently easing a tightness that was almost virginal in its intensity.

Within moments, Gren was thrusting back on the invading digits, begging and pleading for more and Vicious granted it. Removing one hand from its delectable position within the long-haired man's tight entrance and the other from one rock-hard nipple on a satin smooth breast, he quickly lubed his own ignored and dripping arousal in preparation for entering paradise. With a possessive growl, he pressed the broad tip of his cock against the slickened opening to his lover's body and then thrust forward slowly, inexorably, until he was fully seated once more within Gen's tight heat.

"OH, YES!!" Gren nearly shouted with joy as he felt the amazing sensation of being opened and filled so perfectly in the manner only this one act could grant and he moaned with even greater pleasure as one hand returned to its earlier site and cupped one of his breasts. Despite being unable to fully articulate his surprise, the ocean-eyed man noted with delight that as his lover had prepared and then claimed him, his uniquely feminine features responded to the arousing stimulus and he felt a tingly sensation in his nipples and across his chest.

Growling softly, Vicious pressed himself fully against Gren's back, enjoying the feeling of exquisite pressure around him and wondering how he'd lived for three long years without it. Barely able to give his partner enough time to adjust, he withdrew a few centimeters then slid back in forcefully and wrenched a moan from both their lips.

"Pl-pl-please!" Gren spluttered as he felt his body reacting much as it had that first night long ago when Vicious, wounded and yet unwilling to wait, claimed him for the first time.

With a darkly loving smile on his face--something his associate Lin would've found terrifyingly bizarre if he'd been given the privilege of seeing it which he would not--Vicious began to move. Sliding in and partially out then back in more firmly, the amethyst-eyed man moved, very slowly increasing the pace since he was unwilling to risk hurting the man who was nearly virginally tight around him.

For Gren, it was heaven and hell both all at once to have that unbelievably large erection buried within him and he wanted this motion and friction, but most of all, he wanted to feel that strange yet wonderful feeling of having that secret point within him found. Taking a deep breath to keep from wailing in need, he begged, "Oh, *please*, Vicious! Darling, I need it harder! Deeper! Oh, damn, please! I want *more*!!"

Vicious' heart echoed the sentiment and with a low snarl, he withdrew entirely. As Gren drew in a deep, shocked breath, he felt strong hands spinning him around and the other man growled, "I want to see your face when you come, Gren! Hold onto that!"

Hungry amethyst eyes indicated the showerhead above them and Gren's face lit up with a huge smile as one hand reached for the sturdy metal even as the other placed itself trustingly on Vicious' shoulder. He lifted a long lean leg and curled it around Vicious' waist, opening and offering himself as he moaned urgently, "Take me!"

"Gladly!" Vicious responded, quickly moving to bury himself to the hilt back inside the tight heat that his body screamed with need for and he himself moaned with delight as Gren's other leg moved to wrap itself around him.

Back pressed against the wall of the shower and body completely offered without question, the saxophonist thrust against Vicious and impaled himself further and felt his lover's cock finally find the spot within him. "VICIOUS!" He screamed with joy.

Realizing what had changed within their interaction, Vicious moved quickly to repeatedly strike the spongy bit of nirvana within Gren's body, urging him towards completion even as he felt a tension building within himself. Growling with his own need as warm water continued to wash over them both, he increased to an almost punishing pace and pushed them both over the edge.

"GREN!!" The swordsman's first true cry of joy in three long years echoed through the small space and was answered by an inarticulate rendition of his own name as their orgasms hit them both simultaneously.

Hot seed jetted from Vicious' throbbing cock, shooting deep inside his lover and claiming him once more as it warmed the slightly shorter man from deep inside. Gren's trembling erection spurted pulse after sticky pulse of passion which painted their abdomens ever so briefly before the shower washed the fluid away without removing any of the love it represented.

Both men stood there, bodies intertwined and clinging to one another as they gasped for breath for several moments as their nerve endings tingled and they shared that sweetly satisfying feeling of post-coital bliss.

The silence was finally broken when Gren sighed adoringly, "Oh, Vicious, that was *wonderful*! Oh, darling, I *love* you!" He dropped his hand from the showerhead and trusted the younger man to be able to keep them both from collapsing to the floor of the shower as he wrapped himself completely around his lover.

More than pleased to be so trusted by someone he had feared he would never even see again, Vicious wrapped both arms around Gren and held him tightly, reassuring him in wordless ways they both recalled learning together far away on a saffron-colored moon. Trying to remember that with this person he didn't have to be the mysterious, silent source of fear he had become after his time within the Red Dragons, Vicious answered quietly, "I love you, too, Gren. I'm so very grateful you've allowed me to come back into your life like this."

Loosening his grip only enough to press a deep and loving kiss to his partner's lips, the long-haired man responded, "No, Vicious, I'm the one who is grateful." He lifted a shaking hand and ran it though dripping wet white hair and explained, "Without you, I was almost relieved to be told I was dying. Life had no meaning for me for so long, I felt so hopeless. But with you here now, everything has changed. Even if I wasn't going to be treated for my illness, just being with you again would've made dying easier, I'd have died happy once more."

Vicious' eyes held a steely resolve within them as he declared firmly, "Then there's no reason to look forward to anything other than living 'happy', as you say, Gren, because I will not let you go. You are mine and you will stay with me forever."

"But what about the Syndicate?" Gren suddenly worried, "Won't they have a problem with you bringing back a, um," he hesitated to say "spouse" or even "fiancé" since that was what it seemed Vicious wanted him to be, but substituted instead, "a comrade like myself? I don't want to cause trouble for you, my darling."

A low growl of power and determination rumbled through the amethyst-eyed man's chest and he nearly snarled, "They will accept you and embrace you as my chosen one if they want to survive, Gren! Like I said, I'm going to be the one in charge now that Mao is gone. As soon as the Van accepts that fact, there will be none to gainsay me and you and I together can lead the Syndicate in an entirely new direction if we want to."

Realizing that a discussion of the future of so many people might be better held when they were not so intimately united as well being under the suddenly cooling water as the apartment's water heater began to empty itself, he added in a lighter tone, "But first, let's get out of here and get dry, all right? I think we might want to enjoy yourselves a bit more before we decide what to do next, don't you agree?"

Gren smiled happily, despite having his lover's generously-sized cock buried within him felt so good, he knew his hair would be a wreck if he didn't at least get some conditioner into it before they retired to the comfort of his bed. With a nod, he answered, "All right, Vicious. Let me fix my hair and we'll go to bed. I think I'll need to call the club, too, and let the guys know their sax-man isn’t making it back tonight."

Vicious recalled the look of encouragement on the young, auburn-haired waiter's face before they'd left and even as he withdrew from the tight clench of his lover's channel with a groan, he remarked knowingly, "Somehow, I don't think it'll be a surprise to them, Gren-love. I rather suspect that they had a feeling this was going to happen."

A faint blush crawled across the smaller man's cheeks as he quickly poured some leave-in conditioner into one hand and finger combed it through the long tresses. As Vicious watched admiringly, he added with a shy smile, "Perhaps you're correct, love. They *have* been urging me to find a 'nice man to spend some time with' lately." He shrugged slightly, the gentle motion causing one of his breasts to flex up and then down and wrenching a moan of need from Vicious' lips before he added hopefully, "Come to think of it, I think there's something I'd like to do when we get dry. All these years of spending hours playing the sax has left me wondering what it would be like to 'play' you, my dear Vicious. Would you like that?"

Amethyst eyes widened in amazement, and Vicious actually groaned loudly, the hardness returning to his arousal with a speed he hadn't expected and he asked in return, "Will it be a long song, Gren-love? I don't know what to expect."

Finally more confident, Gren stepped towards him and slipped a finger slick with conditioner from base to tip of his lover's erection and added hopefully, "I certainly hope so, Vicious. I think playing *you* will be so much more satisfying than playing my instrument, don’t you think?"

"And afterwards?" Vicious felt compelled to ask. The gentle musician had never been willing to go down on him while they were on Titan, Gren never wanted to dominate him in any way and he wondered if there was more to the offer than fellatio.

"And afterwards, my love," Gren smiled promisingly, "I'll see to it that you are right back where you belong and you stay there all night long!" As he spoke, he took the white-haired man's hand and slipped it between his legs, letting Vicious feel his own sticky seed which remained in vague traces the shower had missed.

Vicious growled his delight and instead of speaking his acceptance of Gren's admission that the shift in sexual roles would be brief and limited, something both were pleased with, he merely kissed the teasing and beautiful man deeply. The other man melted into the kiss and no further words were needed as they proceeded to explore the delights Gren had recommended.

The reunion of two former comrades had lead to a greater reunion of two previously lonely and desperate men. Their plans to remain together regardless of the powerful forces they faced when they returned to the Red Dragons headquarters were firm and not open to discussion. Vicious would allow no one to speak ill of Gren and in turn, Gren would allow nothing to prevent his efforts to bring joy back to Vicious' life.

The road ahead would be a long one for the pair, with many twists, turns, and challenges from those they had each known in the past. But somehow, someway, they would remain together and their reunion would never need a repeat for they would never part again.

~Owari~ 

[1] This fic is dedicated to Ryoko in honor of her 24^th birthday. Tanjoubi, kitten. Readers are encouraged to visit her delightful Cowboy Bebop Yaoi Shrine, All that Jazz, at the URL listed above and while they are there, I hope they sign the guestbook, it's such a nice way to say you enjoy someone's efforts to create something fun, ne?

[2] This is my first fic for Cowboy Bebop, hopefully there will be more in the future with this pairing but whether or not that comes to pass depends on my muses *and* if there's enough reader support shown. In other words, send me feedback if you want more.

[3] Regarding our supporting characters, they include two from Gundam Wing and my brother--the guy at the bar drinking Zombies--who is the one who sent me the entire Cowboy Bebop series on DVD in the first place and deserves a thousand thanks for adding these bishounen to my stable. Oh, and he's the one responsible for me being able to sit and type the angst-laden back-stories with Vicious' theme song "Rain" and Gren's "Space Lion" from the OST 1 playing on my computer, too! Sugoi!

[4] Muses on Parade: Erato, the Greek Muse of epic poetry, is my lemon and romance muse and is responsible for most of this story, obviously. However, it was Melpomene, the Greek Muse of tragedy and angst muse to me, who is proud as a peacock to have added an "untold story" to the war on Titan and making Vicious join the ranks of bishounen she's left bloodied in her wake. She also enjoyed portraying the white-haired bishounen as suicidal in the reference to Session 5: Ballad of Fallen Angels, the beginning source of so many lovely, angst-ridden [(Vicious + Spike) and/or + Julia] scenarios one of which is invoked with some hesitance here.

[5] There are a lot very nice people who receive roughly bimonthly updates from me as to what is new at fanfiction.net, GW Addiction, and other authorized archives for Llama-fics. If you wish to join, please feel free to sign up at EnigmaFanficUpdates-subscribe@yahoogroups.com!