Disclaimers: I do not own Never So Few. I never will. I do no own the characters of Bill Ringa or Capt. Tom Reynolds. Never will.
Capt. Tom Reynolds stared interestly at the young man before him. The man was called Bill Ringa. The man was tall, blonde, and very rebel like. Ok, to Reynolds the rebellious thing hasn't or never came to him but he saw it in Ringa. He could see it in Ringa's sharp sea-like eyes.
"I suppose I should thank ya," he starts to say as he takes a drink of his beer.
The young man called Ringa just peered up at him and tilted his head. Taking his won sip of his beer he replied," What for?"
"No reason," Reynolds shrugged. "I just had to. Since ya came up and agreed to come. You've been great."
Ringa's eyes glazed with something but he turned away. Nodding slightly he grabbed his knife and flicked it. Up and down. Catching it and throwing it. Up and down.
"I have nothing else to keep me. Might as well," he said slowly.
Watching quietly Reynolds nodded and stood up. He wondered at the skills of the man in front of him. The man knew how to fight. Well. Very well. Bill Ringa himself said that he fought in Hell's Kitchen and other areas. The young guy was impressive. Highly impressive.
Ringa stopped showing his skills when a man came up to him. The man was tall, chubby, and very grim.
"You new?" he said.
Ringa didn't answer but continued playing with his knife as casually as he could.
"Answer me, boy," the guy growled.
But Ringa still said nothing. He just continued to throw his knife up and down; catching and throwing it.
People started to notice the tension and watched. Capt. Tom did nothing but watched. He was interested on what the young gun would do. With Ringa he didn't know what would happen.
"I said answer me!" yelled the huge guy as he placed his hand on Ringa's shoulder and pushed it.
And as the man did this Ringa with seemingly cat-like reflexes stepped to the side and grabbed the huge man's wrist and twisted it as he turned and through the knife up. A upturned the man's hand towards the now falling knife and then as fast as he threw it; he caught if faster and kicked the man in the balls and laid the edge of his knife at the man's throat.
"I'm newer than ever," Ringa coolly said as he grinned.
He then flicked his wrist as the knife dipped slowly yet closely near the big guy's skin.
"What's your name, mister?" Ringa asked.
The man quivered at the cool touch and replied gruffly,"Sargeant Rutan."
"Well Rutan," Ringa said; rolling the name off his tongue. "Leave this bar. And if I see you again. I'll make sure this knife hits more than a few neck hairs."
Rutan scared; shook his head. Satisfied by this response Ringa pulled back his hand and let go of the Sergeant and pushed him forward.
As Rutan ran out, Ringa laughed softly and took long drink of his beer.
Reynolds stared at him curiously and had a strange smile on.
He knew he liked the kid. The kid was good at what he did. The way he held the knife was as if he was born with it. Impressive.
"What?" Ringa said as he came to notice the Captain's stare.
Reynolds merely shook his head and replied,"Damn."
After that they both laughed.