Author's Note – I understand that it's been three years since I've had at this fanfiction, but I've decided to take it up again with renewed determination. Critiques, comments and/or ideas are greatly appreciated! In addition, I'd like to thank those who encouraged me to continue writing this.

Chapter Two / Target

Love Wilcox is her name. Blonde, petite and intelligent, Trevor Pearlharbor had thought her to be perfect for the role of Handsome Pink, member of the elite Handsome Men, Punishing Rangers. She was the voice of reason, the epitome of cute and the one that every nerd dreamt about—so long as perversion wasn't in play and wasn't Handsome Light Brown's breasts that they desired.

Sure, Jimmy Dix's middle name was Danger… But Love Wilcox's middle name was Deceiving.

She was sitting on her couch now with her arm draped over the frame, watching a recording of the news broadcast that was shown only months ago.

"…Reporting to you live now… the reports are just coming in. Steve Sunderson of the Democratic Party has just been assassinated during today's..."

The sound of the reporter's voice was drowned out by Love's commotion on the couch as she sat up and pulled a .45 ACP from her side.

As if he was reacting to her, the reporter said with frustration, "Oh jeez."

One, two, three thunderous blasts slammed against the television screen, pelting the glass and shutting the reporter up, making the image disappear. Love barred her teeth as the television sat ajar on the stand, then collapsed with a loud crash. TV shrapnel flew up into the air.

Love inhaled deeply, and then exhaled, freeing her jaw from pressure. Her teeth pulsated momentarily. She rose from the leather couch and walked over to her front door with her .45 still in hand, slapping against her hips. When she bent down to slip on her purple strap-on heels, Love could feel a stinging sensation to the left of her lips. Her pink tongue peeked out from between her lips and caressed the small nick. She tasted blood. As her tongue slithered back between her lips, she tasted menthe.

When she had put her heels on, Love reached into her shirt when her free hand and produced Polaroid photographs that were tucked into her bra. Each one had a picture of the Handsome Men… their true identities—her primary targets. Love proceeded to fan out the photographs. The first to the far left would be her first prey—first come, first serve was the policy of this game.

Love grinned.

She would be paying a visit to Brayden Finch, otherwise known as Handsome Dead.

A .45 ACP wasn't suitable for Brayden, but Love decided to bring it along anyway. She tucked the firearm into a holster on her thigh, hidden away by her pink dress, and then ventured into her kitchen. Her fair hand grasped a drawer and pulled gently, unveiling am organized collection of kitchen knives. It hadn't taken her long to decide what to bring. Love lifted it out of its nook in the drawer and raised it up to the ceiling light above.

"Shun boning knife, distinguishable by its arcing blade like a samurai sword, designed for food preparation in removing bones from poultry, meat and fish. Perfect."

The knife had fit perfectly into the extra slip her thigh holster had, suiting her needs. When she had decided it was time, Love made sure to shut off all of the lights in her apartment and preceded out her door after locking it. She slipped on her pink sunglasses that hung from the neckline of her dress and walked down the stairs, whistling "Greensleeves" as she pictured Handsome Dead carved like a pork roast.