Disclaimer – I do not own any of Team Ninja's Characters or anything else related to Dead or Alive.
The warm water drizzles down Christie's perfectly toned frame as she washes the flowery scented shampoo through her short platinum hair. Christie always loves to relax as she showers, which she does at least twice a day, not that she's dirty, but to reminisce about her childhood days back in England. Such fun it was to gallivant through the pouring rain of her home, back before she decided to turn down her less than honorable line of work.
Christie flings her hair back, loosing the water in style, and reaches down for the nozzle, turning it back to its original position, ending the flow of water. She slides the glass door open, grabs her white towel from the rack, but stops immediately. She wraps the towel around her wet body and eyes the slightly opened door suspiciously. She always showers with the door completely open, and Midnight knows better than to spy on her.
She clicks her tongue softly, sidestepping over the smooth floor and reaches into her cabinet drawer for one of her many backup pistols, but she feels only a hard, long rubber tube, which definitely doesn't belong. She withdraws her hand and studies the object askance, knowing exactly what it is, but knows it has no business in her apartment. A black snorkel. Christie never swims, she's not that blonde bubblehead Helena! She gently places the snorkel on the sink's edge and opens the door slowly, peeking into the dark hallway. Her other gun is always under the towels in the linen closet.
"What is this…?" Christie mutters as she pulls a small object from underneath her linens and looks down at the little black statue of a horse's head, expertly crafted from wood. Christie almost sighs immediately, placing the two awkward objects together and concludes them both as insignias of one of her many rivals, Bayman. That sneaky Russian is in her apartment! But unfortunately he's in possession of both of her available guns unless she is able to take him off guard.
"Not a chance." The deep male voice emanates from the end of the hallway, as Christie suspected, and light immediately fills the hallway from the standing lamp. Christie rushes forwards to possibly catch him before he is able to get a shot off, but she halts in mid attack. Bayman sits casually on her grey sofa, his hands behind his head and his black boots rested comfortably atop a black animal rug. He wears denim jeans and a Russian soccer jersey.
"You know, I would have left my boxers with the hammer, sickle, and red star, but I figured you got the point I was making," Bayman snickers derisively as he holds up both of her pistols by the barrels in one hand, "You focus way too much in the shower, Christie."
"What are you doing here, Bayman?" Christie commands the question with authority, but then immediately realizes her companion is nowhere to be seen, "Where's Midnight?" Bayman chuckles lowly as he tosses the pistols on the couch and shrugs his shoulders,
"Do you know how much my Timbz cost?" He asks with a smirk and Christie glares at him scathingly, furious at being mocked,
"What the hell does that even mean?" Bayman taps his left heel on the floor lightly and Christie looks down and her eyes widen at seeing the rug underneath his boots, the one that she never bought. A black panther rug, four paws and a head with a surprised shriek plastered on its face for eternity.
"You!" Christie begins forwards, but Bayman leaps to his feet, holding his hands up and laughing,
"I'm kidding you!" He laughs and Christie halts momentarily, but doesn't lower her knife of a hand, "Midnight's out back with that little ferret, Tina, that thought my black King was a chew toy. Ah, good times." Bayman sits back down casually, seeming not at all intimidated by a much superior assassin.
"I've had about enough of this!" Christie demands, stepping closer and Bayman loses his smirk and stares at her intensely,
"I'm here to help you." He begins in a serious tone and Christie tilts her head, wondering how the fool could ever assist her, "You realize that when you fail Donovan, the assassin becomes the assassinator…or uh, I mean, the assassin becomes the assass, shit, um…"
"The hunter becomes the hunted?" Christie corrects him impatiently and Bayman nods hesitantly, and a bit frustrated,
"Well yea, but I was trying to be clever for our situation."
"You failed. Just get to the point."
"Do you think I could I get a picture of this?" Bayman asks, holding up his hands in an L and a 7 to create a camera lens, but Christie ignores him,
"Tell me why you're here!"
"Are we making a deal?" Bayman asks anxiously, and Christie leaps forwards, but he jumps backwards, dodging her precise kick.
Bayman rolls backwards, tumbling across the hardwood floor, and almost rams his head into the granite table, but he is able to halt himself. Christie grabs her guns from the sofa and aims, but Bayman holds his hands up quickly,
"Okay, I'll tell you! Donovan is sending an assassin to get rid of you!" Bayman explains through a pant and Christie scoffs mockingly,
"And you think I need your help with one man? That's insulting."
"I simply figured I'd help you, you'd help me. You know, scratch each other's backs." Bayman tries his best to place on a confident smirk with two guns in his face and Christie almost allows an amused smirk to slip onto her stoic face,
"If I wanted to get dirt underneath my nails, I'd take up gardening. I'll give you props, you shutdown my security system and were able to plant you little toys—"
"I didn't shutdown anything." Bayman interrupts and then his mouth drops as he looks behind himself towards the front door. Christie only has time to look away from Bayman and pull the triggers as the figure leaps into view with a massive flashing knife.
A/N: I had to watch Christie's Doa3 ending movie numerous times to be able to describe her apartment in better detail. Yep, that's why. :P
