Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. I am in no way affiliated with Peter Barsocchini, Kenny Ortega, or any of the cast of High School Musical. The characters in the fics are owned by their respective copyright and franchise holders and no profit is being made. All stories about real people are fictional and in no way presume or imply any truth or infringement.
Summary: In the shadows between darkness and light, each sets out for redemption and justice. Alone, they don't have a prayer; but together, just about anything is possible.
If Looks Could Kill
by ashkashbgash
The Proposition
He sat in the driver's seat of his car, situated behind the dumpster of the Catalina Jazz Bar, taking in the sounds of trumpeter Miles Davis' Moon Dreams from 'Birth of the Cool' and the stench of his hashish. Troy yawned and closed his eyes. The Beretta model 92FS was snug on top of the sun visor, mere inches from his reach. The Taurus monitored his pulse from a strap situated on his wrist. The music and smell lulled him off to sleep as he reclined his seat, falling into unconsciousness.
He wasn't able to stay asleep for long. A stirring woke him, but not a sound, touch, or shadow. The music stopped abruptly. Not a soul lingered under the glare of the parking lot's light beyond him. There was a clean, sweet scent on a path through his nose.
She leaned into his ear, saying only "Hi," from behind him. A puff of blue-gray smoke shot over his shoulder. He whipped around, the Beretta situated between her eyebrows like a flaming arrow.
The everlasting thirty seconds were speechless. From the bar, someone belted out "What Is This Thing Called Love."
"I was wondering," she purred, her shiny, red, plump lips making firefly patterns in the neon light, "if you would kill me please."