Author's Note: This will be my twenty-first story. It is an offshoot from a 'one-shot'. The backstory can be found in Chapter 1: Hit Girl Seized of my other story: The Trials of Kick-Ass and Hit Girl.
Synopsis: Mindy Macready fled New York. She stopped in Chicago, but alone, she went almost feral as her Hit Girl alter ego swiftly took over. Then, everything came to a crashing end as she was overpowered and taken by local mobsters. Dave Lizewski, in his own alter ego of Kick-Ass, had spent almost two months searching for Mindy. He found her, and he rescued her, but not before Mindy had suffered the ultimate injustice, and was raped. Now, the pair have fled Chicago and are heading west in search of a new life.
Mindy is one month short of her sixteenth birthday, while Dave is seventeen.
Six days later
Saturday, October 24th, 2015
Denver, Colorado
"Why don't we go out and have some fun . . . you know, kick some criminal ass?"
"You can – you have your wetsuit; I have fuck all!" Mindy replied dejectedly. "Everything that makes me Hit Girl is back in New York."
"Technically, that is not quite true."
"What do you mean by that?"
Dave reached down, and he pulled a pack from under the bed. He placed the pack onto the bed and unzipped it. Mindy peered over curiously.
"That's mine," Mindy commented as she examined the pack, looking confused.
"Yeah, it is. We found your apartment and we cleared it out, everything."
Dave reached into the bag carefully with both hands and he grasped hold of two objects.
"These should get your panties good and wet!" he laughed as he threw two long objects onto the bed.
Mindy took a single look and then she jumped to her feet with a loud squeal. The fifteen-year-old girl tentatively reached down, and she grasped hold of the two parts that made up Hit Girl's most fearsome weapon. She twirled the lethal blades of the bō-staff around, while Dave kept well back. He knew exactly what those blades were capable of accomplishing.
"You fixed it?"
"No – it's your spare, but I sharpened and polished it for you."
Mindy spent a few minutes gazing into the highly polished blades.
"Okay, you'll need these, these and these, plus these and these, and of course, this and this."
Dave threw onto the bed a pair of purple pants, a purple jacket, and then a small tartan mini-skirt, followed by a pair of boots, some gloves, and a belt with attached pistol holsters. Two knife carriers, two pistols and of course, the mask and wig.
"Oh my God!" Mindy breathed as she took hold of her jacket.
Tears fell down her cheeks as she hugged the item close to her chest. Dave was a little worried as Mindy was still holding the extremely sharp bō-staff sections.
"Should I, er, leave you, the jacket, and the very sharp blades alone?"
Mindy looked up at Dave and she glared, but then she dropped everything and hugged him tightly. She started sobbing again and Dave seriously hoped that sobbing was not going to become a regular thing. After a couple of minutes, Mindy looked up at Dave.
"I was so right letting you into my life."
Mindy then pushed me away and she started to strip off. She pulled on her purple pants and she smiled fit to burst. Dave took the hint and he began to change.
"Damn!"
"What?" Dave asked as he pulled off his trousers.
"I think my tits are getting bigger – this jacket is way tighter than it was before."
"Er, can't say that I've noticed," Dave replied, somewhat diplomatically.
"Wise-ass!" Mindy quipped with a grin.
That night
East 68th Avenue and Franklin Street
"What are these? You changed your batons?"
"Somebody important, I forget who, once told me that real superheroes modify their costumes."
Hit Girl blushed, knowing that Kick-Ass was referring to her.
"They seem chunkier," Hit Girl commented as she hefted them in her hands.
"They're aluminium instead of wood. That's how I was able to cave in some skulls the other night."
"I am impressed, Kick-Ass; you've finally come of age."
"Thank you, Sensei."
"Funny!"
..._...
It was dark, but cool.
The street was clear. They had parked the car, ensuring that it was behind some trees, hidden from casual sight and almost invisible in the darkness. Together, they proceeded on foot towards somewhere they hoped would be open for business.
"Er, Kick-Ass – a question for you. It has only just clicked in my mind, but. Please tell me that the car is not the fucking 'Mist Mobile'."
"Yeah – it is that car – only I'm not calling it that for, er, obvious reasons. We need to get it resprayed and renamed."
"Dare I ask who paid for it?"
"I hope you like your new car," Kick-Ass laughed.
..._...
As the two vigilantes crossed over Franklin Street, they started to see some activity.
A few cars, with furtive looking drivers. Hit Girl knew the signs – they were idiots looking for a score. However, they would not be scoring that night – Hit Girl and Kick-Ass would. Beside her strode the muscular form of Kick-Ass. Hit Girl's mind was wandering, 'Man, his muscles have improved since I last saw him topless – his abs are to fucking die for,' she thought. 'Get your damn head in the game, Mindy – and out of the fucking gutter!' Those fucking words came back to haunt her: 'It's biology bitch, don't fight it!'
Her mind was all over the place and she was having trouble focussing; she just hoped that she was not about to let Kick-Ass down. Her last time out on the street had not exactly gone according to plan. That night, though, she was Hit Girl, right down to her tartan skirt and razor-sharp bō-staff. She was so looking forward to kicking some criminal butt and, she hoped, killing some too.
"Stand to, Hit Girl!"
"Huh?"
..._...
"You using your goddamn eyes?"
"Sorry, Kick-Ass – I, er, tuned out for second."
Hit Girl focussed on what was in front of her. She smiled. It was the classic arrangement. An SUV was parked over on the far side of the avenue. In it sat two men, ostensibly dozing. A punter would pull up on the other side of the avenue, our side, and another man would appear from the far side of the SUV to take the drug order. The men in the SUV were both the guards and the order desk. The man would then cross over to the SUV and place the order. A few minutes later, two cars would appear from a street – in our case, Downing Street, to the right. The first car would then stop beside the punter and take the cash, before speeding away and presumably driving around the block back to the base with the money. The second car would then pull up and hand over the drugs. It was a simple dodge. No single person was actually selling anything – most definitely not selling drugs!
They had decided that they would need to target the entire organisation, so they settled down to watch the routine.
One week later
Saturday, October 31st
East 68th Avenue and Franklin Street
"Ready to strike, Kick-Ass?"
"I have your back, Hit Girl – as ever."
'He can have any part of me!' Hit Girl mused. 'Dammit, focus!'
She knew that he would be there, too, always. It was dark again and after several night's reconnaissance, they had devised a plan to relieve the drug cunts of their cash and to put them out of business, permanently. They knew exactly where the drugs were stored – it was the very same place where the money went back to after each successful drug transaction.
Hit Girl had also decided that they would all die; she had a lot to get off her chest and she had just the one outlet.
..._...
Hit Girl and Kick-Ass headed down East 68th Avenue and then turned right at Downing Street.
Nobody saw them as they skulked through the shadows. A little way up the street, the street ended, and they found a red roofed building. It was the drug dealer's base and they would hit that and the cars, simultaneously. To aid the pair in their task they had placed explosives on each vehicle, which Kick-Ass had thoughtfully brought with him from New York. Hit Girl pulled out the remote and she thumbed off the safety as the pair of sedans pulled up and the men climbed out, taking their cash into the house.
"Fire in the hole!" she growled, and her gloved finger pressed the button.
A few hundred yards away, an SUV suddenly became airborne on a column of fire, lighting up the night. The flying SUV did not land on its wheels though. At the same time, a dozen yards away, two sedans split in half and rolled over as fire took hold on their shells. The two men on guard duty fell to a bullet each from Hit Girl's SIG Sauer pistols. Kick-Ass and Hit Girl both ran towards the entrance of the building. Three men appeared, all armed with automatic weapons. Bullets were sprayed into the darkness.
"Fuck!" Hit Girl growled as she threw herself down and rolled to avoid the lethal burst of gunfire.
Kick-Ass moved around to the right in a flanking movement, covered by the darkness and the burning vehicles. Hit Girl returned fire, dumping magazines and switching them for fresh ones as required.
The three men fell, and the two vigilantes ran into the building.
..._...
Kick-Ass had forgotten how exciting things got when you went out with Hit Girl.
She had dispatched five men without a second thought – or even a first one, for that matter. The building was not large, but it had a basement which would have to be cleared, and fast, before the police and fire departments arrived. Together, they ran down a short corridor. A face appeared, and Kick-Ass clubbed it down. They came across two men guarding a room. Kick-Ass put one down with his batons while Hit Girl took out the other with a blade of her bō-staff. It felt so great to be able to kill with it again, she thought as blood flew and splattered across the walls of the corridor.
The rooms were empty of people and seemed mostly to be places for the men to wait between sales. They soon found a door which led to stairs that went down to the basement. Carefully, they made their way down and found another door which Kick-Ass kicked open, and – jackpot! There before them was the counting room. Two men cowered at one side of the room, not far from piles and piles of cash. Through another door they found piles of drugs.
"How much?" I growled, indicating the cash.
"Forty-eight thousand. Please, don't shoot us."
"Thank you," Hit Girl replied. "I promise I won't shoot you."
The two men looked relieved as Kick-Ass shoved the money into a bag. Once Kick-Ass had departed, Hit Girl pulled the pins on two grenades before she threw them into the room with the drugs and pulled the door closed. There were two loud explosions and the building shook while smoke billowed out from around the closed door. Just as Hit Girl was about to leave the room, she turned to the two men.
"Catch!" she growled as she pulled two more pins and threw two more grenades.
Hit Girl smiled at the horrified men for a moment as the grenades landed beside them before she ran out of the door.
The minute she reached the open air, the two grenades exploded.
The drive back to their hotel was fun.
Mindy could not stop talking; she was full of energy, like she had not felt in almost two months. She owed Dave, big time, for coming after her. She owed Dave for rescuing her – again! She owed Dave for being with her. She owed Dave . . . period! They stopped on the way back to strip out of their costumes and hide them away, along with the Kick-Ass armour and their weapons.
Mindy was still hyperactive when she got back to the hotel room, so Dave insisted that she went for a shower to 'cool off'.
..._...
After her, surprisingly invigorating, shower Mindy returned to the bedroom to find Dave in bed and struggling to keep his eyes open.
Yes, they were sharing a bed. Since 'the incident' – Mindy refused to call it by that word – she was unable to sleep alone. Mindy needed to feel somebody close. She knew that she was safe; Dave was not about to jump her and fuck her senseless, although rather strangely a piece of her wished he actually would. Yes, she was well into puberty, but those damned hormones were still there, and still raging, and aching to be released. A big chunk of Mindy wanted Dave to love her, but a small part of her was worried that if she pushed him into sex too soon, then he might simply push him away and he might leave her. Why was so desperate for sex? She had no idea; considering what had occurred only a week or so previously.
Mindy wanted to be able to remember the last time that she had sex as something positive, not something horrific. Only, she could not bring herself to ask Dave; she felt ashamed about what she had allowed to happen to her and she was scared that it would just end up being a pity fuck on his part. Mindy hated touching herself, even after using the bathroom – and no, she had never touched herself like that! She felt horrified about what had occurred between her legs, but she knew that she had to move on, if she ever wanted to have a normal sex life – forget a normal life; that was long gone! She still woke up, each night, screaming. Dave tolerated it, including the punching that he received when he tried to hug Mindy.
She owed him and she owed myself, so she finally gave in; before getting into bed, she dropped the towel and she opted to sleep naked.
Updated: May 2019