A/N: Hello again. Here is a little something that spurred after writing an old peice of Mafia drama for Assassin's Creed. There will most likely be another chapter. This is roughly a year old, so it might not seem too well written.
Still, Enjoy :)
Title: Night Club Blues
Words: 742
Pairing(s): La Volpe (Gilberto)/ Il Lupo
A pop tune wafted in through the massive speakers planted about the club, the deep heavy bass pounding in the Gilbertos' chest. His eyes nonchalantly followed his target; a well dressed man, no taller than him self, with a wolfish grin, and spiky black hair. Gilberto tapped his foot in time with the beat as he sat in the VIP section; a random whore draped across his lap. She was distracting, and the assassin wished she would just go away. The woman kept grinding her ass against his leg, and she couldn't help but remind him of a lonely chihuahua. Too bad the two cent hooker didn't realize that he wasn't too interested in women. It took her all of ten minutes of grinding to give up, and saunter off.
Gilberto muttered a thanks as his eyes scanned the club for his target once again. For several minutes all he could pick out were random couples making out on the small couches, or practically having sex on the dance floor. The assassin sneered in disgust before his eyes landed on his target once again. He was at the bar, talking to the bar-tender; a tall, tan man with a scar across his lip. Gilberto smiled lightly, standing up and stalking across the dance floor to the bar. Once there, her ordered simple rum, and cola, he never was into the frilly drinks.
He kept his eyes trained on his target as he handed the bar-tender a wad of twenties, and then made his way to the back rooms. Gilberto slapped down a ten, and followed him; being sure to stay out of sight. For a few moments, the assassin lost his target, but pressed on to the back of the club where he found his target once again. Gilberto hung back, and watched as the man knocked twice on a unmarked door, and entered. The assassin then casually walked up to the door, and pressed his ear to it. He counted three voices-four-five; including his target. Gilberto smiled as he took the pistol out from between the back of his pants. He took a deep breath, and knocked on the door twice. The voices suddenly stopped, and the assassins senses heightened.
The door jerked open suddenly, and Gilberto rushed into action. He fired one bullet into the head of the man at the door; paying no mind as the back of his head blew out-chunks of skull and brain hitting the floor. The room erupted into chaos as the other men fiddled for their own weapons. But they all were two slow. In a matter of minutes, Gilberto put a bullet in the head of three of the other men there. The assassin lowered his pistol, panting slightly as he searched the blood, and carnage for his target. None of them matched. A sudden click from behind him made Gilberto smile lightly.
"You knew I was following you the entire time?" The other walked in front of Gilberto so that he could see him clearly. It was his target; he wore a small smirk of his own, and held a pistol.
"I didn't notice you until the bar, assassin."
"You caught me." Something flashes in Gilberto's purple eyes, a spark of mischief.
"I have. The hunter has become the hunted."
"Not for long." Gilbertos' smile widened. "They don't call me La Volpe for nothing you know." His targets eyes narrowed.
"What are you planning?"
"No," the assassin began, taking a step back. "It's what I've already done." The targets ears perked up, and he twirled around to spot another behind him. He tried to react but the other was too late, and in one swift movement, the other assassin knocked the target unconscious.
"About time your got here, Bartolomeo." The other man rolled his eyes, tucking his own pistol back into the pocket of his coat.
"I had trouble finding Bianca." Gilberto shook his head as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his black dress pants, and made his way over to his target. He eyed the man silently, taking in his handsome features. He was drop dead sexy to Gilberto, and he couldn't help but think it a shame he was a Templar.
"Can we go now? I have a game of poker with Niccolo in ten." Gilberto nodded, and patted the templars cheek.
"Buonanotte, Lupo."
