Title: The Lesson
Rating: PG-13
Shoujo-ai content
Characters are not mine I'm just borrowing.
The ache in her body was not enough to keep Revy from waking. She kept her eyes closed as her senses pulled the picture of the day around her. The bed was soft and not her own, and a single sheet wrapped around her. The heat in the room and brightness of the midday sun coming from the window were causing her to sweat. She could smell the sea air and the smoke from a fine Cuban cigar. Her eyes opened slowly and the picture moved into focus. She rolled over from her side onto her stomach and buried her head in the pillow.
Her body complained of needing a few more hours of sleep. Her mind was not in agreement and she kicked a leg up and hissed out a low breath from the light sting she felt there, and then the sore spots down her back where fairly deep scratches marked her rang in, causing a similar reaction. Women always left marks, or at least the women in that city did. It was a telling trait, and Revy had to admit as she rolled back over onto her side that she did too.
In Roanapur it was a helpful skill to be able to size someone up and know if they were an equal, a pushover, or out of her league. That lesson went for fucking as well as fighting, and Revy often ignored her own advice and impulses regarding both. She had moved out of her league, and after a night like the one she had just had she couldn't say she regretted taking on the challenge. Her body almost disagreed with her.
She rolled again onto her back and cursed softly, flinging an arm over her head to shield her eyes from the sun.
"I suppose," she said, her voice rough from one too many shots and cigarettes, "it would be too much to ask that you shut the blinds."
A sound emanated from the mouth of the blonde woman standing over by the window. It was something along the lines of amusement and with it the smell of cigar smoke and the harsh light from the sun were snuffed out.
Revy sighed and removed her arm from her face. She opened her eyes and lifted her head up just enough to look down at her body that was now half covered by the bed sheet.
"God damn." Revy sighed. She pulled herself up not minding as the sheet fell away from her. She took in a deep breath and then stretched. Everything hurt, but it wasn't completely terrible. She rested her arm on her knee and looked over at the woman by the window.
It was curious that she should still be there or even that the woman might have left and returned. Nights like the one she had just had generally meant waking up alone which Revy felt was a blessing. You wake up alone and then restart the day and if you see the person you were with it's as if nothing ever happened. It was so much easier that way. Occasionally waking up with someone wasn't bad either but this, this was interesting at the very least.
The woman at the window pulled down part of the blind and peered out. It snapped back into place as she turned to face Revy. She grinned and crossed her arms over her chest. She was already fully dressed in a maroon business suit, and her almost excessively long blonde hair was pulled up into a pony tail. The scar on her face, and the ones along her neck that so readily gave her identity away looked like misplaced shadows in the shaded room.
"You shouldn't have any permanent scaring," The woman said and leaned against the wall. "In theory your breakfast will arrive in a few minutes."
"Heh…don't go knocking yourself out, sis." Revy replied. She looked up and decided it was best not to try and interrupt the look the older woman was giving her.
"Even at midday, it's the most important meal." The woman said, and somewhere in the depths of her speech her Russian accent slid out adding an unwelcome bite to a simple sentence. "Try and take care of yourself, Two Hands." The woman added and then swiftly walked out of the door.
"Yeah, whatever," Revy said as the door shut. She let out a deep breath and looked around the room. A knock at the door came a moment later and draped in the sheet Revy accepted the pizza box and the unopened bottle of Jamaican rum handed to her. She had to laugh at the balanced breakfast.
She dressed and ate a few slices of the pizza. She looked at the bottle of rum and decided to leave it alone for the time being. A quick glance in the small mirror that hung in the room made her sneer. She looked like utter shit, but there were no marks on her neck.
"Sick sense of humor, sis." Revy said aloud. "Really, fuckin' sick."
Mud from the gutter clings to our boots
The scent of death on our hands
Clinging to our bodies as we move through the world
And we smell our own in the bars and on the job
We smell our own even when they try to pass themselves off as work-a-day slobs
But though you reek of death
And your hands are tainted red
Though you've made your mark
As one of the living dead
You smell of something different
You're scent lingers in the mind
It's of something older, colder
Something I can never define
The Lagoon crew was all getting ready to head out when Revy arrived at the dock.
"Where the hell have you-" But Dutch couldn't finish the sentence when he saw her. "Damn, Revy, what the hell did you get yourself into?"
She shrugged and chuckled slightly. "Obviously nothing I couldn't handle."
"Right." Dutch said dryly. "We have a job to do. You ready?"
"As ever." She replied. She walked to the boat and only narrowed her eyes slightly when Rock looked her over. "Tch! Take a god damn picture it'll last longer."
The Japanese young man blinked back at her and shook his head. A question he wanted to ask lingered in his mind as he went on board the boat and the crew worked the small job they had. It was futile though and it would only get him yelled at, but he wanted to understand why she did that to herself, because he was assuming it was a fight. His assumptions, however, were why he would never understand the truth.
Revy sat in her room after the job was over and looked at the bottle of rum that she had been given. She sighed heavily and then pulled the cork out and took a swig.
"Not cheap." She said and then tilted her head as someone knocked on her door, and then it opened.
Dutch stood in the doorframe and Revy glared at him.
"I'm not going to lecture you about your personal life," Dutch said quickly. "I just want to make sure you're okay, because you look like shit and that stunt you pulled out there today reminded me of our little run in with the Nazi wannabes."
"Hmph…" She looked at the floor. "And Rock must have said something to you. That guy's a bad influence on us."
"Us or you?" Dutch replied. "Look, Revy, he didn't say anything, but I'm sure he wanted to. Hell, even Benny wanted to say something, but they know better than to push their luck."
"Yeah, well…" Revy trailed off and looked at the bottle in her hand. "I just learned a lesson is all. Wanna drink? It's good stuff."
Dutch shook his head. He looked at the bottle and then nodded. "I see. You enjoy that bottle however you like. I don't want any part of it though. It's not for me."
She watched him walk off and stood up. She walked out of the door and headed to the Yellow Flag, leaving the bottle behind.
Life throws you lemons
Get out the tequila and salt
Or the vodka and sugar
Or chuck em' at cars
Shove em' down someone's throat
Just whatever you do
Don't eat them by yourself
That sour taste
That bitter feeling in your mouth
It'll follow you
It'll haunt you
And then what
Revy was downing her third shot of Bacardi when someone sat down next to her at the bar. She was too busy drinking to realize just how quiet the bar had gotten and that Bao was too stunned to even move. She slammed the glass down and reached out to where the bottle was and her hand was stopped by another.
"What the hell?" She grumbled and looked over.
The tall Russian shook his head and then let go of her wrist. "The Captain would like a word with you."
"Fucking hell." Revy grumbled and slid off the bar stool. "This better not be about what I think it's about."
The Russian said nothing, his face expressionless.
She huffed and walked out of the bar and stepped into the car that waited for her. She crossed her arms over her chest and then looked over at the woman sitting next to her.
"What?" She said, quickly, and there was a catch in her voice that she didn't want there to be.
"I'll level with you, kid," the older woman began and cut herself a cigar. "I'm just doing this as a favor because someone I owe asked me. I think it was foolish of him to waste it but, he was rather insistent about it."
"Huh…idiot." Revy muttered.
"Too right," the woman said. She uttered a command in Russian and the car started moving. She lit her cigar and the window rolled down slightly. A summer rain began to fall and the silence in the car was marked by the sound of the windshield wipers squeaking against the car.
"This is stupid." Revy said softly. "We don't need to talk."
"Then why are you acting like a little girl who's just been dumped?"
Revy turned, her mouth agape at the question. "Sis…"
The woman sighed and shook her head. "I heard about that little stunt you pulled, Two Hands."
"C'mon, this isn't funny…Balalaika."
The woman grinned. "I couldn't agree more."
The car stopped and the doors were opened for the two women. Balalaika stepped out and pulled her coat around her shoulders. Revy stood in the rain and waited, finally following the woman inside once the group began moving. They walked up to the office and were left alone.
Balalaika put her cigar down on an ashtray, letting it burn. She sat behind her desk and gave a sideways glance over at the young woman who stood at the door. She tapped her tails along the desk and then stood up. She moved over to where Revy was and backed her against the door.
"Look at me Revy." She commanded. "Я не понимаю вас." It was a whisper.
Revy rolled her eyes and did as she was told. The Russian phrase was something she had heard the woman say before, sometimes to her, once to someone else over the phone. It was the tone that really marked it in her memory. She didn't understand Balalaika at all most of the time. All the woman loved was making war, destroying, and dominating. It was there, in those steely and cold blue eyes. It was all there, but Revy nearly forgot one thing about the Russian. She nearly forgot that as a soldier, as a captain and a leader, Balalaika would do anything to crush an enemy with cold hard precision, but the vengeance she would take on those that hurt her people would be even more terrible.
Revy wasn't one of Balalaika's subordinates. She wasn't a soldier that had survived hot bloody battles in the Afghanistan desert, but Balalaika let Revy call her sis. It was respect, and that was something very few people had from the woman. There were maybe a handful, Dutch, Mr. Chang, even Rock, that moron. It didn't mean that respect would get in the way of Balalaika doing business. It didn't mean it would get someone anything if she was crossed, but it did mean that if by some chance someone was stupid enough to try and hurt those people in a fashion that was not to her liking, she just might have to retaliate back. Balalaika would make it her business, and that was a frightening thought.
"I just got…" Revy started to say and then shut her eyes. She leaned against the door. Balalaika pressed into her and took her lips. Revy opened her eyes as the older woman pulled away. "Something like that."
The Russian woman stepped away and moved back to her desk. She picked up what remained of her cigar and took a puff.
"You shouldn't hold back from what you want, Revy." Balalaika said softly. "You'll end up getting yourself killed in a manner unbefitting someone like yourself if you keep this up." She paused and then said, "But understand me, kiddo…The thing you want will get you both killed in the end."
Revy nodded.
"You may go now, if you wish." Balalaika said softly.
"Yeah…Hey…sis?"
"Hmm?"
"About last night…" She titled her head slightly as she watched the smoke from the cigar swirl up around the older woman's wrist.
"I told you…It was a lesson." Balalaika replied.
Revy nodded and opened the door. As she stepped out the sergeant stepped inside. He shut the door and waited for a command.
"The cartel was recently seen in our area." He said after a while.
"Send over an invitation to Abrego. I'm tired of his shit." The older woman said and then added, "and get Dutch on the line for that one delivery. It'll be a long job, probably a little messy. I think my Маленькая сестра could use a little distraction."
"Yes, sir." Boris replied. He turned to leave and then hesitated. He thought the better of it and walked off.
Balalaika smirked and shook her head. She puffed on her cigar and went over to her liquor cabinet. She pulled out a bottle of high quality Jamaican rum and poured herself a drink. She took a sip and then moved back to her desk. The lesson was all there in the flavor, a reminder that tasted just like the previous night. She leaned up against the desk and shut her eyes.
"Yes," she said as her steely blue eyes opened. "That's definitely going to be what ends up killing her… Better that than me."
End.