AN: As I submitted this chapter in a rush it contained a few mistakes that shouldn't have been here. It's redone now.
Q: Why is Naruto and Gaara constantly called 'Blond' and 'Redhead'?
A: Because they don't know each other's names. Gaara does introduce himself quickly, but Naruto hesitates quite long before he finally decides to spill his name. That's why he is 'Blond' for a long time.
'I didn't do it!' That's what the blond said. Considering he was the only thing left alive in a room with seven people in it, the statement would have been laughable if it hadn't been so sad.
How the hell had this happened anyway? The job had been supposed to be so simple, and yet thing had gone so horribly, horribly wrong. Get in, do your thing, get out. It wasn't that hard, was it? Apparently, the answer was yes, because here he was, on the bad end of a shiny pistol held by a redhead wearing way too much eyeliner and looking at him with the same amount of interest one regarded a cockroach. If asked how he had ended in this situation, his answer provably would have to be `I think I blinked and missed something`.
'Bullshit.' The trigger dangled, announcing that the good old CZ 27 will soon shoot a hole in the blond's head. The redhead didn't even blink at the surroundings, but this, all this... He came here to work with people. Or rather - one person. To shoot him dead. He came in - and what was there? Seven dead bodies, including the one he was supposed to take care of. That was what one would call a bad day at work, definitely.
'If not you' he said, getting out one of his hands outside of his pocket 'Then who did this?'
The blue eye widened, the other being closed with dark marks around the edges. Something had gotten into it when the TV he had been using to cover from the shooting exploded. He lowered his arms lightly when they started getting tired from his default `I'm harmless, please don't shoot me` stance, but raised them back up when the redhead followed the movement by doing something to his gun that clicked. As far as he knew the only things you clicked on guns and didn't go pow were their safeties.
'Bu-but…! I really didn't do it!' the blond whined, looking very much like if he would burst into tears any second. 'Really! Seriously! I don't even know these guys! I don't know why they're here!' he sniffed pathetically. 'Pleeease, let me go, whatever these guys did, I have nothing to do with them!'
'Bullshit!' The gun fired, missing blond's ear by millimeters. 'If you don't know why they're here then why the hell are you here?'
The redhead angered and calmed down immediately. He saw the injuries of the other, but didn't care for them in even one bit. The blond, as pathetic as it looked like, played the wrong tunes in his usual, hold-them-in-the-range-of-fire-shot. He was not panicking. He was just whining at him. There was something wrong. He glanced sideways, noticing how silent it was and seeing that he was not visible from the cameras, but still, he felt observed. Was there more...
'Who are you working with?' The gun clicked again.
The blond shrieked like a girl and curled on his side, hands covering his face.
'What the fuck is your problem?' he asked, trying to open his eye and then wincing at how much it stung. 'Working? What the fuck? I was here before they came! I-I was with- with the guy-'
He made gesture in the general direction of a man wearing a dark blue chemise, who happened to be right across of him, his tan skin turned a few shades paler as he realized he had landed on most of the contents of the guy's head.
'Oh… ew. Ew. Gross.' He made more disgusted sounds as he wiped his hand on the carpet, high pitched whimpers coming in between the sounds every now and then.
The redhead looked at him with disgust and tsked. No, he was wrong, the tunes were hit right. He was just too confused to get things like they should be. This pathetic blond was just another passer-by. But if not the blond, then who?... He looked around but saw no clues. This was something definitely not right and he felt alarmed by it. More, he was not the only one. He whipped his head wildly when he heard steps. Of course, everyone will be interested in this mess. Heck, he heard the guns from meters away... And that meant only one thing. Witnesses. Police. Was it possible that it was police?... Either way, it was too late for him.
He had to get out of there as soon as possible. He turned to the blond, wondering if not shoot him to have his mouth shut, but it came out as unnecessary as door banged down and people entered the room.
'Freeze!'
Yep, police. Just his luck. Like hell he was letting his work go undone. It took him one second to shoot two frontal policemen. He lunged to the nearest door. He'd come out dead or alive. Third option was out of question.
Blond curled on himself as the police came, this time the shriek coming out just a tad less girly than before. He stared in horror at the redhead.
'What the—you shot the police? You don't shoot the police!' Blond scrambled to his feet, grabbed the nearest window quickly climbing to the balcony and changing rooms with the next one. 'Fuck, this, I'm not staying!'
He looked down, wincing at the amount of police cars he saw approaching.
'Fuuuck. My horoscope didn't say anything about this.' He looked down, judging the height, then changed sides with the banister and let himself drop. He caught the balcony below it, adjusted himself, then dropped again. He did this two more times, before landing on a crouch on the street. Lucky him, most people were too busy going to see what the commotion was about.
In the meantime, redhead wildly ran through the building, making more steps than he thought his legs would allow him to make. Unfortunately, he had ran into the blind passage - there was nothing else than a wall and a window. Hearing that everybody were on his steps he looked through it and made the quickest prayer he had ever said: 'Amen.' And he jumped of the window. Safely, he had landed on the roof of the car, which, as he saw when he tumbled down from it, started by the blond he met before. Not the way normal cars were started. He did not think twice, as thinking twice cost life - he immediately pointed his gun at the blond, ran around the car and hoped in on the passenger's side.
'GO!' he shouted, clicking his gun again with a shivering hand. Definitely not his day.
Had Yashamaru not prayed for him this time or what?
Blond gaped at the fact he found himself in the wrong end of redhead's gun again, just when he was about to make a smooth, flawless escape –he'd even already singled the positive and negative cables and everything!- now Red was in the car, the police was on the balcony and pointing at them—
'Oh, Hell, no!' He grabbed his wrist and pinned it to the roof of the car as he reared back his other hand, fully intended to punch redhead's pretty makeup-ey face with it. He really was not a violent guy by nature, but today just hadn't been his day, and he felt he was entitled to give in to his inner caveman and crush some skulls.
'Freeze! Get out of the car with-' Such was not his luck. Releasing redhead's hand, he crossed the cables, slammed the accelerator, changed velocity's and nearly ran over the three police officers who were smart enough to get out of the way in the nick of time.
The redhead almost toppled down his seat, and if he hadn't been holding his gun like he should have, he'd shot his own foot. But it was the way car were driven at escapes, so he only cursed and got back to his seat and held on a seatbelt, not clicking it. If he was supposed to get out quick, he couldn't strap himself with such obstacles.
The blond let go of it so suddenly he'd probably would, but since he was a pro - it didn't happen.
'Why are you following me?' blond cried, turning the wheel sharply to catch a turn. Redhead pressed against his side and blond, not feeling affectionate at all, pushed his face away and pressed it to the windshield. 'I told you I didn't do anything, why do you have to drag me into your problems?' As if summoned by the conversation, the sound of sirens could be heard. Lots of sirens, and not far away at all. Feeling at the epitome of maturity, the blond turned to glare at the redhead. 'I hate you!'
'Well I don't like you at all either!' answered redhead 'Not that I have any other choice! Drive instead of talking! If they catch us it's your fault! Fuck!...' The police was trying to shoot their heels. Without a second thought he opened a window and shot back at them. No, he didn't scratch their heels, but he crashed the window if the closest car, that counted too. He closed the window and reloaded his gun. 'I will kill you if they'll catch us.'
Apparently not done with dealing with his inner four-year-old, the blond mimicked the redhead's speech in falsetto.
'If they catch us it's YOUR fault. I didn't have the police after me until you tried to play Spiderman in my car!' He changed speeds again and bypassed a family car and a truck.
'I'm not the one driving here! Look out!' They barely missed a sign of the allowed speed. Car scratched it and got a nice gash on one of the sides. 'Holly duh! Can you look where are you driving instead of acting like a little kid?' He didn't know when he started arguing with his victim instead of threatening it, but his nerves weren't exactly good in discussion and had upper hand. Or lines. Of nerves. Something like that.
'Hey, I just had this idea, why don't I just jump off and then you won't have to deal with my driving and my character?' Another harsh turn, redhead again pressed to his side, and blond again used his hand to press redhead's face against the opposite windshield, away from him.
'Stop fucking touching me!' The redhead growled and slapped blond's hand harshly. 'What the hell, are you gay or what?'
'Ha!' blond exclaimed, almost as if he were reading out loud a comic book without being particularly proficient on it. Too much traffic—slamming his hand on the honk, he had the car climb on the fortunately mostly empty sidewalk. 'I'm asked about my sexuality by Mr. walking advertisement for Maybelline! How many bottles of kohl died to make your eyes so pretty, huh? I'm surprised you don't have the whole crew of Animal Planet after you, I heard pandas are an endangered species!'
'What the hell, are you gay or what?' The redhead looked at him bemused. Then he untriggered his gun and looked through the front window on their, very uneasy, way. 'So you are gay.' he spoke in a calm tone 'You were checking me out.' Then, as if something bit him, he twitched and tsked, then caught the blond by his neck and pushed him forward so he nearly glued his face to the glass. 'Could you just fucking drive in silence?'
Blond blinked.
'Oh, God… yes.' he whispered, batting his blue eye, before suddenly slamming the brake, apparently with the sole purpose of making redhead slam his head against the windshield, barely keeping himself from doing the same by pressing a hand against it. 'You know, that's the first thing I noticed… In between the senseless murder and you trying to fucking ruin my life… I couldn't help being CAPTIVATED-' accelerator was pressed once again and this time Gaara bounced between passenger side and the backseats. '-by your good looks and CAPTIVATING personality! Because the first thing I check about freaks trying to kill me is their ass! Yes!'
Something crashed loudly behind them. Hopefully a police car.
'Do tell, is the entrance to your fan club for free, or do I need to sign somewhere and sell my kidneys for the privilege of standing in the line?'
The redhead groaned, trying to get a hold in himself. He banged his head pretty hard and it hurt him now like hell. But he quickly regained his posture and crawled back to the front seat. He gritted his teeth in pain and looked at the blond with a clear impatience written in his eyes.
'Fuck you.' he muttered in the calmest and the most silent voices he ever used and aimed for the blond's balls. Apparently blond was paying more attention to him than to the road, because he shrieked and grabbed at the redhead's wrist, yanking his precious reproductive organs out of the immediate line of fire. Gun went off, destroying blond's window. Blond shrieked again and elbowed redhead in the face.
'The fuck is wrong with you?'
'I'm a guy with a gun and I can kill you dead, nothing's wrong with me. ' said Gaara in a dangerous tone, touching his bruised jaw 'It's time you noticed it's not a toy, idiot. I told you to shut, so drive.' With those words he moved his fingers, so the gun got loose and caught it with his other palm. It was pointed at the blond once again. 'You understand, bitch? I'm a fucking killer.'
Blond glared.
'You are a fucking bitch, that's what you are!' With those words he slammed the brake again, only this time when the redhead went against the windshield, he took the chance to punch him again, then open the door and ran out of it. 'And I bet you are not even a natural redhead!' he yelled as he ran through the panicking crowds, disappearing down a set of stairs that went to the subway.
Gaara moaned, trying to relock his strained jaw. That was a one punch too much. He growled through his teeth, then got out of the car, hearing how police sirens were going off and were actually pretty close. He didn't think twice. He had ran exactly the same way the blond did. He wanted to shoot him on the knee. Or an elbow. Though a ball or two would be good also. He owed that to him. He pushed an old lady on some younger miss and jumped through the ticket's fence. There! He saw him. That blond bitch.
'Hey, you!' he shouted, then he bit his tongue, knowing, that he made one of those stupid elementary mistakes. You don't show your victim you see it. Instead of dwelling on it, he run down the next path of stairs and pushed past another old geezer, then some teenager, then a mother and kid then... shit! The tube was coming. And so were policemen. He almost forgot why was he running away, he was so angry. But if he shot him from this far distance...
'This is police! Freeze! Don't move!'
'Fuck you!' he screamed. He screamed more, but the tube went on the station with a loud screech, so it drowned in it. He looked forward again... there. It took him only three bodies to push to pinpoint the blond and get into the tube. The police got in after him. Like in a stupid old gangster movie. He groaned inwardly and jumped back, placing a strong kick in policeman's chest. The other, surprised, tumbled backward.
It took only clicking the gun at his head so he'd be less objective and one more kick to get him out of the train. The door has closed and they were on their way again. Without the police. The blond and him. That little bitch!...
Gaara immediately started jogging forward, where he saw the blond a few seconds ago. One door, one place, second door, second place, third door, third... He was nowhere to be seen.
He turned around wildly, not bothering to hide a gun, but people seemed to be blind to the fact he was holding it. Only two people had noticed, but were undecided yet if to start panicking or not. Gaara smirked. Blond hair and newspaper. There you are, bitch. He clicked a gun and pointed it at the person through the newspaper.
'Just so you know' he said drowsily, smirking 'There's no redder natural red head than me in the whole district. It's because my mom drank blood when I was in a womb.'
Click.
Blond pulled the newspaper down, looking at redhead with annoyed eyes that promptly widened when he realized what the other held in his hands, his mouth working a few times but no actual sound escaping it. Brown eyes. Wrong blonde.
Shit. Gaara lowered his gun down immediately.
'Advertisement.' he said, then turned on his heels and stomped out of the place to find that no, the blond wasn't in the last carriage also. He looked at the informatory board and groaned. Yoghurt Street. The ice-cream parlors and candy stores on the other side of the town. Definitely not a place close to his home. But he had no choice. Once the tube has stopped, he stepped out, hiding his gun. Four hours away from home...
He took a bus knowing, that if anything, he was searched in the underground and in possible quick badass cars. If anything, old buses was the best choice. And it was not like if anything could happen to him there. He was the worst from hooligans that took this route every day.
He had nothing to be afraid of.
