Author's notes: Hello everyone and welcome to my first Gunslinger Girl fanfic. This fanfic is actually a crossover with Sin City (which is one of if not THE greatest comic series ever written). If you haven't seen the movie I would highly recommend that you do so, or buy the comics. It had occurred to me that the girls never leave Italy when they go out on jobs, well in this story they will be going way out of the neighborhood and into a city not only filled with juicy targets for them but a city which just might make targets out of them. Enjoy and please review.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sin City or Gunslinger Girl, or any of the characters, although I do have some original characters to come, so please don't sue me.

THE KID

"That Damn Lawyer!" I growl out loud to myself as I drive down the street. It's after midnight and I'm in the middle of the richest neighborhood in Sin City. I've never cared for the lawyers, but I never thought I would be out to kill one of them. Some new Assistant DA guy, all I have is an address; an address and a dead friend. Yesterday I lost the best friend I have in this sick sewer of a city. They gave him the chair for about a dozen murders, only two of which he actually did. And come to think of it the only two he did murder, well for scum like them it was practically his civic duty. He had been a great friend and mentor ever since I came here six years ago. The minute I heard that he had signed a confession for the murders I knew something was up, he would never confess to a crime he did not commit. I looked into it. A hooker named Wendy went to visit him the day before they killed him, on her way out she asked some of the guards about this ADA. She must have asked very nicely. The next day I met with her at Kadie's Saloon, she told me she had the name and address. I told her I didn't care about the name, I just wanted the address, she gave it to me.

"Get em good, Kid," she had said. Kid, everyone calls me that; I figure it's better that way. In a cool way it kind of fits me when you come to think of it. I've only told two other people in this city what my real name is, and I'm going to avenge the death of one of them tonight.

"Don't worry Wendy," I say out loud as I park the silver sedan, two blocks from the house. "I'll get him real good," I say as I pull a cigar and lighter out of my black overcoat. It's a fine coat, I'm glad the old guy chose to leave it me in his will, there are still a few blood stains on it but their hardly noticeable. I lit the cigar, I never liked cigarettes, it was something we both use to tease each other about. The thing I like about cigars is, not matter how much you smoke them, you'll never get lung cancer, mouth cancer maybe, but as long as you don't inhale your lungs won't complain. Sure it's not quiet legal form me to smoke yet, but I figured what the heck; it's only a year, who's gonna care. I puff smoke from the cigar, it doesn't appease my anger, but it calms me down enough to stop me from running down the road like raging lunatic and breaking down the bastard's front door. I knew I would have to keep things quiet. I grab my wooden bat from the next seat, its time for some batting practice.

I walk the two blocks between the house and me, nice and casual. I keep my right hand (the one holding the bat) hidden in my coat. I look up at the house, it's your typical snob house, about five acres of land, house made of brick, three stories high and no doubt with the best burglar alarm system available. I'm not too worried about it though, people like this guy are stuck up, and when people get stuck up, they make mistakes. I walk around to the back door and just as I thought, the bastard forgot to check the back door, when people get stuck up they make mistakes. I make my way through the house walking carefully so as not to give myself away, his house is filled with paintings and sculptures, and suits of armor from European and Asian countries. I had wondered why such a large house. Wendy had told me he lived alone. "Damn, some people just have more money than they know what to do with," I say to myself, not too loud. I find the stairs and climb to the third floor. Another thing to know about people with an ego like this is, they always want to be as high above the ground as possible. I open the bedroom door and look in; there he is laying in a leopard skin blanket, just a thin and weak little man no older than thirty with dark curly hair, his left arm his in a cast. A large plasma TV sits only a few feet to the right of the door facing the bed. The room is illuminated from a large window on the wall to the left of the door. The room is almost entirely lit by a mixture of moonlight and lightning, rain begins to pour down on the window. And the man in the bed opens his eyes. He immediately looks at me with terror.

"Who…who are you?" he asks, not even trying to hid his fear.

"I'm no friend of yours," I tell him and draw the bat from my coat. He shrieks and starts trembling with fear as I begin walking toward him. "Dose the name Marv mean anything to you?" I ask him. All he dose is widen his eyes and tremble even harder. "Your damn right it means something to you, it means your arm is what it means," I say and point to his left arm. "Well lets just say it means something more to me," I tell him and remove the cigar from my mouth and put it down on a small wooden dresser to the left of his bed (making careful sure that the burning tip sticks out over the edge). I bring up the bat as if I were Babe Ruth at home plate. "But one thing I know about Marv is, in all his life he never left anything unfinished," I smile down at the shaking figure in front of me. "And seeing as how your still alive and you have three more perfectly well kept limbs on you, I figured since Marv is no longer able to finish his jobs, perhaps it's best I finish this one for him."

"Nnooooo!" the man squeals like a little girl, a blast of thunder drowns his wail. I bring the bat down hard on his right arm as he lays there. He continues to wail (more from pain than terror now). I move down the bed a few steps and bring the bat down on his right leg. This time the thunder doesn't come till after I hit, so I hear the crack of the bone. The little rat continues to squeal, but he can't seem to scream any louder, even when I break his left leg (swinging down with more strength than the past two). I'm about to smash his balls when I stop myself short. I always thought of that as playing way too dirty, reserved only for the worst of the worst. So I cut to the chase. The bastard's voice is to worn out to give any more than faint wails of pain that I myself can barley hear over the occasional clap of thunder.

I move back up to the head of the bed and look the battered lawyer in the eyes. "Maybe I should have introduced myself when I first came in," I growl to him, his eyes look back at mine with a terrible twist of horror and agony. "The people around here call me Kid. I guess that's as much my name as my real one. You wanna know who I really am?" I ask him. He doesn't give me an answer but I tell him anyway. I tell him my name, what happened to me six years ago when I was eleven, why I left my home country, how I got to Sin City, how I knew Marv, and how he's been a friend and a mentor to me. I smash his face with the bat, I hear the crack but I don't stop. I growl every curse I can think of as I continue to beat his head like eggs in a bowl. He doesn't even scream. After a few minutes all I'm doing is beating slug and bone fragments into the mattress, so I stop. I grab my cigar from the dresser and leave. I wipe the blood and guts from the bat in the soaked grass of the back yard and walk around the front to the sidewalk nice and slow, like I don't have a worry in the world. I don't continue smoking the cigar until I'm back in the car and driving back the way I came, heading for Nancy's place.

Nancy has been like a big sister to me since I met her outside her school when I was twelve and even more so when Marv took her under his wing after those Frat boys attacked her going home from her job at Kadie's. If there's one thing that disgusted Marv more than anything else, it was guys roughing up dames. He taught me to always treat them like I would a princess. And I always have. Marv was everything to me. I've been staying with Nancy for about a month and now, I was staying with Marv but now that he's gone all I have is a bouncer's pay and a landlord who doesn't want anything to do with me (after she heard what Marv had confessed to). Nancy is officially the only person in this city who knows my real name and where I'm from. The closest thing to family I have in this damn city. I pull the car into Nancy's drive way and toss the remains of the cigar on the cement, as much as both Marv and me meant to her she never let us smoke inside her house. I leave the bat in the car and walk up the concrete steps to the door. The thunder and lighting have ceased, but the rain still hasn't let up, and it doesn't feel like it's ever going to. I'm pulling out my spare key when Nancy opens the door. There is pause as we look into each other's eyes. Her eyes are red and irritated, she had been crying since yesterday, now she was looking at me with no emotion at all. She knew where I had gone and she knew what I had gone there to do. I do the only thing I can do. I give her smile and say, "I got em, Nancy, I got em."

Nancy manages a grim smile and warps her arms around me. I return her embrace. We are both now standing outside her open door in the pouring rain. She starts crying again and I hold her for what feels like hours. I knew it wouldn't make things any better. Marv was still dead and we both still missed him. I tell myself that that damn lawyer will never extort anyone or manipulate the justice system to ruin someone's life again, I tell myself the world is a better place with out that bastard; but true as it is that still doesn't make me feel any better. I can't bring myself to cry though. The rain begins to die down I feel her begin to calm down. The rain finally stops and the clouds give away to a beautiful full moon and stars glittering in the sky like diamonds on black velvet. Nancy pulls away from our embrace and looks me in the eyes. Her eyes are no longer dripping with tears. She smiles at me and says, "Thank you, Emilio."