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No Gentle Love	By : lawless Category: +. to F > Cowboy Bebop Views: 1922 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Cowboy Bebop, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
DISCLAIMER: This is a fanfic. I don't own anything.
~~~ Chapter 7 ~~~

The men were confused by Vicious' order but they knew better than to question. So, they ushered the ex-Cherious Medical personnel to the third floor of the building where the guestrooms were located. The hallway was long and dark. Her "cell" was the second to the last room from the staircase. When they got to the door, the men pushed her in and placed the lock. They did not even bother to check if the room was secure; it was.
Electra stood in the middle for a moment, too numb to do anything else. The events of the past twenty-four hours replayed in her mind. It seemed as though one minute, she was in the company of the Bebop Crew, chasing your everyday bounty head. Or at least, what we thought was our everyday bounty head, she corrected herself wryly. And then suddenly, she found herself in a trap which was never meant for her in the first place.
Vicious had deliberately used his own men to lure Spike into a confrontation and catch him unawares, Electra had no doubt about that. But the plan backfired when Planchet shot Spike and wounded him, thus forcing Electra to deliver the bounty head instead of him. She remembered how Vicious had reacted when he realized that it was not Spike who came. He had chuckled but his eyes were far from laughing. The chill in their pale blue depths made her shudder.
'I should have trusted Spike to send a woman to do his job.' He said those words scoffingly as though mocking himself for making such a mistake. And then, she remembered how he then calmly drew his katana from its scabbard and slit his men's throats. Without word. Without emotion. Without even the tiniest hint of anger.
Is the man made of ice? She wondered, remembering his neutral tone of voice and his general lack of reaction. But then she recalled how he had laughed while he was in the car with her only minutes ago, his pale eyes crinkling and his even white teeth bared. When he laughed like that, his face seemed to undergo a transformation. The strains around his eyes and the grimness of his mouth disappeared and he looked younger, more carefree, charming even.
Electra froze when she realized where her thoughts were going. "I must be going mad," she said to the empty room even as she tried to suppress the strange nervous feeling she had felt when she first saw Vicious. She looked around her, noticing immediately that there was only one window and that there were steel bars outside the glass, effectively shutting the occupant in. This must be what he meant when he said that I'm a guest but that I can't leave unless I want to die, she thought, taking note of the other aspects of her "cell."
The guestroom was not large but the lack of furniture made it look spacious. The only two pieces of furniture were the bed - single, cotton-covered - and a desk which served as a nightstand complete with a yellow night lamp. The walls were bare and so were the floors. The room was actually very spartan but Electra did not mind. She was not one to fill up her room with all sorts of trinkets anyway. And besides, this guestroom was supposed to be her prison so luxury was not something to be expected.
She crossed the room to the bed and sat on the edge. The main question that was burning a hole in her scalp now was what Vicious was planning. Why was he keeping her here? What did he hope to accomplish? What was his purpose? And as soon as she asked the last question, the answer hit here like a snowstorm.
Bait.
He was using her as bait. Somehow, he assumed that Spike would attempt a rescue. Electra had been told that Vicious had done something similar before with Faye. She had no doubt that Spike, as soon as he recovered and woke up, would try to find her. But it would take a while for the Bebop crew even with Ed's hacking skills to put two and two together and figure out that Vicious and his Red Dragons orchestrated the whole thing. So where did that leave her?
At that moment, the door to her room made a clicking noise and Electra stared at the turning knob with more intensity than necessary, transfixed. The door swung open to reveal one of the faceless men who seemed to surround Vicious, ready to do his every bidding. He was glaring at Electra's seated form, his mouth set in a sneer and she wondered briefly what she did to have earned his ire. Then, she remembered the man she had head-butted earlier. The same man was standing in front of her now and sure enough, she noticed the telltale red swell on his brow. She had no doubt that she sported the same injury, too, but her training had taught her to push this sort of things to the back of her head. Without showing any sort of emotion, she waited for him to say something.
His voice was filled with resentment when he said, almost choking over his own words, "Vicious-sama wants you to join him for dinner."
Electra looked at him blankly. After some moments, her unwavering gaze finally caused the man to shift uncomfortably and the movement caught her eyes. She saw that he was holding something in his hands - a piece of black cloth.
Seeing the shift in her attention, the man held up the slinky outfit, dangling it in front of her as he smiled leeringly before tossing it on the area of the bed beside her. "And Vicious-sama wants you to wear that tonight."
The door closed with Electra unable to hold back the bemused, slightly baffled look on her face.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Somewhere inside the building, three men sat in conference. Two sat side by side and were partially hidden in the shadows. The other one with silver hair sat in front of them, his face directly under the light though it showed no expression. Their voices were low as they spoke and every once in a while, one of the two men would lean forward into the light to address Vicious.
"How long before construction for the laboratory is done?" Sou Long asked, his black eyes unblinking.
"Construction should be finished in three months," he replied.
"Delay?" Ping Long appeared into view. His thin brows were raised in a challenge.
Vicious remained unfazed. "Minimal."
"I understand you are having..." - the calculated hesitation in Sou Long's reedy voice made Vicious grit his teeth imperceptibly - "...difficulties with the negotiation process."
"The producer is marking up his price."
The unblinking eyes returned. "Then use more convincing methods."
Vicious' eyes narrowed just a bit and it seemed as though they had grown more chilly than what was accustomed. "I plan to," he said.
This declaration seemed to placate the Van as they both leaned back into the depths of the shadows, hiding their diminutive figures from him. Vicious waited for their response and when none came, he stood up, taking hold of his katana which he had lain across his lap while he was sitting down. It was not until he was at the doorway that the reedy voice stopped him.
"There is a woman in the building. We understand she is your guest?" Sou Long did not bother to reveal his face to let Vicious' realize the warning in his voice.
"Not for a long while," was the curt reply before he closed the door behind him with a soft click. His long strides echoed down the hall towards the elevator.
And somewhere below him on the third floor of the building, Electra cursed as she fingered the slinky black material on the bed.

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Hello! I'm back! Yes, I'm still alive! Weeeh! I'm so sorry; I've been really busy, not to mention, I lost my draft for this fic so that meant I had to try to remember the rest of the plot. Not an easy task, I tell you considering how forgetful I can be. Anyway, even though it's more than a month late, thanx so much to all those who reviewed. Hope you like this update. Ciao, for now!
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No Gentle Love