A/N: This takes place during "Mona Lisa Overdrive." Shockingly, though, it does not contain any important spoilers.
If you havne't read MLO yet, I won't spoil anything. I'll just set the scene, without giving anyway any important story elements: Molly is now middle-aged, goes by "Sally Shears," and is working as a body guard for a Japanese girl named Kumiko.
I do not own "Mona Lisa Overdrive."
"Sometimes it's good to remember," Sally replied, when Kumiko asked why she didn't get the scar removed.
"Being hurt?" Kumiko asked.
"Being stupid."
Kumiko watched her bodyguard settle back on the bed, completely topless. Maybe a century ago, this would be considered bizarre in the Western world, a grown woman showing her bare chest to an underage girl. Nowadays though, it was viewed no differently than a father taking off his shirt in front of his son. Kumiko's eyes traveled the scar running along Sally's torso. Then moved to the silver lenses that covered her eyes. She wondered, still, why Sally had done it, sealed her eyes behind those curved mirrors, but felt it was too personal a question to ask. And maybe there was nothing special about it; maybe it was just a practical way to hide her identity, something done for her work.
Kumiko settled on her own bed, staring at the ceiling. She was too tired from traveling to do anything, but the latte Sally had bought her earlier made sleep impossible for the moment.
On the other bed, Sally raised one hand, fingers spread, and began tapping the burgundy nails. When she did, they changed, fading from their previous color to that mother-of-pearl sheen she sometimes wore. Kumiko had been wondering weather Sally had two different sets of nails, or if she'd had one of those alternating brands that could be tinted at will. Apparently, the latter. But then, the nails did something Kumiko had not been prepared for at all. Sally held her right hand in front of her face, and those elegant nails churned out five blue-steel scalpel blades, each one a good six centimeters long. Sally began cleaning them with the cloth from her jacket, the one she usually used to wipe her lens insets.
Sally had cleaned all five blades, and was about to move on to the other hand, before jumping where she lay and looking over at Kumiko. Kumiko's eyes were reflected in the mirror lenses, wide and unblinking.
"Shit kid, I forgot you were here." She glanced down at her nails. "Did I ever mention these things to you?" When Kumiko shook her head slowly, Sally made a small sound. "Sorry 'bout that. I musta' taken two years off your life."
"That's why they call you 'Sally Shears,'" Kumiko realized.
"Yep."
"Do you use them, for your work?"
"Not as often as I used to." Sally began to clean her left set, but only unsheathing one blade at a time. "I used to flaunt 'em. Kicked ass at the moment, but too many times it came back to haunt me. Try to be more discrete with them now..."
"So discreet that you go by the name 'Shears?'"
Sally's mouth tightened in what might have been a smile. "A little inside joke, for old friends."
"But enemies too," Kumiko urged.
Sally shook her head. "I only use the name Shears around people I'm working with. On the street I'm just Sally."
Kumiko watched, as the thumb-blade slid back into its housing, and the index one rose for its turn to be cleaned. Sally's fingers were curved now, as if holding some invisible fruit. How was that possible?
"How do the blades move, inside your fingers?" Kumiko asked.
Sally held up her left hand, mother-of-pearl nails facing Kumiko. "The housing ducts," she ran her right index finger along the left, "are filled with a compound made in Chiba City. The blades themselves are made out of a special kinda' steel, also only made in Chiba. When they're inside, they're not...hard. They're flimsy, flexible. It's only when they come out and hit oxygen they get hard."
Kumiko watched in amazement, as the Sally playfully slid the blades in and out.
"I used to have so much fun with these things. Not just shanking people. I mean, I used to cut my stake with 'em sometimes. Carved me an' my boyfriend's initials on a bench, once," her voice trailed off, like she'd just reminded herself of a painful memory.
Fortunately, Kumiko saw an easy way to change the subject. "What about your lenses? How do they sit attached to your face? Do they cut through the skin and muscle? The bone?"
"If they cut through the muscle I wouldn't be able to move my face under there, or blink. Might as well not have anything underneath at all, 'they cut that deep." Kumiko cringed inwardly, at the thought. "No, they mostly sit on the skin. Only cut through the first couple layers. And 'cut's' not even the right term for it. When you get these implanted, the surgeons make cuts in the top layers of the skin where they'll set, then fuse it, so there's no blood or infection. So it's like they've got a nice canyon to sit inside, so they're perfectly sealed. Only parts that cut all the way through are the nails holding 'em in place, and they're so small they're microscopic. They actually go between the muscle fibers, into the bone."
"I saw a policeman, once, with lenses like that," Kumiko mused. "But his lenses were rectangular, and black."
"You see 'em around." Sally said.
After a moment, Kumiko said hesitantly, "Can I ask you, Sally, a personal question?"
"You can ask," Sally let her hand drop. "But I might not answer."
"Why did you get the implants, to have your eyes covered?"
Sally drummed her fingers on the bed (the blades now sheathed). Kumiko figured Sally was going to offer some simple excuse, essentially dodging the question. Something about liking the fashion, or their practicality for her work. But to her surprise, Sally confessed, "Shame. I did something...well really, someone else made me do it. I mean literally made me. Long story." She chewed her lip, facing the ceiling. What direction she was actually looking in, behind those lenses, was of course a mystery. "Yeah, I think that's probably it. Just didn't wanna show my face, not in full, after that night."
Kumiko waited for Sally to elaborate, but she didn't. And maybe she didn't have to. Given Sally's line of work, and the world she came from, there were a hundred different ways a person might have forced her to hurt someone else. Maybe by threatening a family member if she didn't comply. Or simply manipulating her. Kumiko briefly entertained the possibility of outright mind-control, but that was a bit far-fetched, like something out of a science fiction vid. Then again, mind control to a degree did exist, in the form of drugs, "puppet parlors," genetic manipulation...any one of which Sally could easily have run into, in her life.
"For what it's worth Sally," Kumiko said, "You're one of the only positive people I've encountered, in my whole life."
Kumiko's English wasn't perfect. The grammar was impeccable, but English speakers often told her she sounded robotic, the way she worded things. She hoped she hadn't worded the compliment in a way that Sally would take badly.
"Get some sleep kid," Sally finally said. "We got a long day."
Kumiko didn't sleep, or if she did she didn't remember. She remembered watching Sally sleep, though. Wondering, what was the color and shape, of those eyes Sally was so ashamed to show, that she had to hide beneath those twin mirrors.
N/A: Did Sally ever show Kumiko her blades? It's never stated in the books. Since I was always frustrated by how little of those blades we actually saw, I like to think that the answer is "yes."