One Way Please

This is a bit of Kill Bill drabble. I do not own this story or its characters they belong to the pure genius of Q and U. I am just a humble little fan fiction writer. Enjoy!

I don't know now in retrospect what made me think Texas; let alone El Paso. It just kind of popped into my head.

El Paso – the name kind of rolled off my tongue.

It made me think of beautiful sunsets and wild horses.

It made me think of freedom.

But, really were does one go in a profession such as mine to retire?

Miami Beach?

Mexico City?

The real truth is retiring from this profession if you will call it such is not something many of us plan for; most of us wind up dead for one reason or another.

You can only be the biggest bad ass on the block for so long.

So yes, I was retiring. I was settling down. I was going back to my roots.

That was what I was doing was it not?

I was giving up vast sums of money.

I was giving up jet setting across the world.

I was giving up killing the bad guy and let's face it a few good ones along the way.

And why you ask?

Why would I the deadliest women in the world give all that up?

The answer is simple. I was pregnant. I was going to be a mother.

Yes, I tell you the idea at first didn't sit so well with me either.

When I fled that hotel room, I had only had one thought RUN! , and never in my life had I been so completely and totally frightened.

I know it sounds strange coming from a girl like me who has had a lot of bad shit go down around her.

I have been stabbed and I have beaten and eventually I would be shot in the head by my lover no less (but you know that darling little story don't you?) but those terrors paled in comparison when I remember how it felt running out of that hotel room and frantically hailing a cab. I only had a gun strapped to my thigh, a bag of dirty clothes and a baby. God how fucked up was that? I remember having to puke on the way to the airport. The cabbie had a good chuckle at my expense.

"Morning sickness misses?"

I swear I would have put my hand through his goddman head if I hadn't been so ill or so fucking scared. So if truth be told nothing in my whole crazy life as an international assassin had ever scared me as badly as the thought that I, Beatrix Kiddo – The deadliest women in the world was going to be someone's mother.

That was some heavy duty shit – believe you and me both.

But, first I had to get away. I had to run. I had to play possum so to speak and lie low.

But, really how the fuck was I suppose to that?

I had no skills well not the type of skills you would put down if wanted to answer phones or wait tables.

I could just see it.

"So what can you do?" some snippy little office manager would ask me with her big teased hair and 7 inch lacquered fingernails and calmly as could be I would reach across the desk and snap her neck for her all with my bare hands.

I couldn't take out my savings or go back for the stash of money I kept under a loose floorboard in my bedroom. I had to start over from scratch. I had a thousand bucks cash, a gun, and a baby well hunky fucking' dory I had all I needed right?

I had learned martial arts from Pai Mei. I had mastered the Japanese language. I could drink warm sake. I could do this, I could have a baby. Right?

The new Beatrix aptly named Arlene would be a waitress and a single mother and she would shop at the goddamn Piggly Wiggly. She would wear sweatpants and drive something safe and reliable like a station wagon.

She would not hunt down international drug lords or speak seven languages.

She / I would be common place and ordinary. I would kill the women I had been for the sake of my unborn child.

I thought of calling Bill. I thought of things like love and loyalty and honor as that cab sped across the city of San Francisco and took me to the airport. But, I knew that I owed this baby more even it meant my own happiness. If it meant betraying the man that I loved and all I had worked for then well so be it.

I was doing this for not only my baby but Bill's baby.

I was given this kid a chance even if it killed me and well you know the story ; it very nearly did.

So, instead of calling Bill and sharing with him; the news of our impending little bundle of joy. I went to an airport and I looked the girl at the desk in the eye and in a voice trembling with fear and doubt said. "El Paso please, one way."

So there it was the decision that sent this whole gory tale of revenge and murder and betrayal into motion.

But, it's all over now. I killed them all. I killed Bill. BB and I are safe now.

I know someday I will have to tell her of my life and who I was and who I am and will always be. I know I will have to tell her the truth about her father. In telling her the truth of her father, I will have to tell her the truth of me.

But, how do I tell my daughter that her father and I were killers, trained assassins who killed without remorse.

How do I tell her despite all that we loved each other even after he tried to kill me and even after I killed him?

Maybe I should just tell her he ran off with the babysitter? I think that would sit with her better don't you?

But, that would be a lie and I don't want to lie to my daughter.

One day I will look her in the eye. I will speak in a slow steady voice and my lips will not tremble and I will say:

"I am Beatrix Kiddo aka Black Mamba and I am still the deadliest women in the world."

Bill was right. That is who I am and will always be no amount of barbeque in the world will change that but all things aside.

Including the bullet to the head, the four years of my life I will never get back, the lonely grave I thought I would never escape from; it was worth it. When I look at BB I know it in my heart that it was worth it.

All of it; everything,