Chapter Two: Lights Out
A/N: well, I've been told I should continue, so I'm continuing! Hehe... Oh, and I found a typo in my story that I should correct here. It's been a year since the Day of the Dead. I had said something about El hearing about Sands for the past couple of years, and I meant year, so just thought I'd clear that up. Sorry :)
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"Lorenzo!" El hollered as he pushed open the door, stumbling in with his burden. "Some help?"
Lorenzo muttered several colourful metaphors as he came into the room. His eyes widened when he saw El stretching Sands out on the couch. "Is that who I think it is?" he managed. "The gunfighter that's been rumored to be blind, right?"
"That would be him," El answered.
Lorenzo leaned over the couch, a grin spreading across his face. "You know the kind of reward money we'd get off him?" He laughed when El shot him a glare. "Of course if he's a friend of yours we wouldn't do that...."
Sands groaned from his place on the couch. He seemed to come to all in one brief moment and he shot up, one hand connecting solidly with El's jaw, sending him stumbling backwards. He reached for a gun and found none.
"Sands."
The former CIA agent stopped where he was, head turning toward El as if he were staring strait at him. "Where are we?"
"My friend's house."
Sands cursed as he started to stand, but the fiery pain in his side dropped him back to the couch. He bit back a cry. "I told you to leave me the hell alone," he growled at length. "I don't need your help."
"But you do," El said simply as he pushed the American back against the pillows. "And a doctor, from the looks of it."
"Screw you," Sands growled as he swatted the mariachi's hand away.
Lorenzo moved around to the front of the couch, taking a closer look at their annoyed guest. "The cartel'll follow him here," he said.
"Hopefully not."
"This is my house, El. You know, I have no problem with you being here, but I'm not ready to put my neck on the line for someone I don't know, no matter how many interesting rumors are running about on him."
"What kind of interesting rumors?" Sands asked.
"Enough to know that the cartel will hunt you down here." Lorenzo made a face, even though he knew the former CIA agent couldn't see it. "I just started my payments on this place not long ago. I can't afford to get it shot up. And even if you weren't the blind gunfighter, if you're a friend of El's then someone will be after you."
"No shit?" Sands asked as he sat up straighter. "I thought the bullet hole in my side was a joke."
Lorenzo lurched forward at him, but El held him back. "I'll take him elsewhere if you want me to, but-"
"Why are you so intent on helping him?"
Sands cocked his head. "My question exactly."
El gave a long sigh. That was the question of the evening, wasn't it? Why was he helping Sheldon Sands? The man before him was manipulative to an extreme that the mariachi wasn't sure he wanted to venture into again. Sands wasn't to be trusted. But then again, he needed help, whether he'd admit it or not. And he might very well prove useful later on. That was a good answer. "I'd like to work with you against the cartel."
This brought a chuckle from the injured man. "What? You think I'm in this to help Mexico?" He laughed again. "Listen, amigo, I'm in this for myself. My own revenge. I rather like the hell I'm reigning down on the cartel and the fear I smell off of 'em."
"What if I am not finished with my own revenge?"
"You killed who you needed to, and good for you. I'm sure you got paid handsomely with the money I was supposed to be getting, not that I'm bitter of course."
"Of course," Lorenzo said mockingly. "Listen, Sands, wasn't it? I don't want my house shot up, got it? I want-"
"Shut up," Sands hissed, obviously intent on something.
"What the hell?" Lorenzo growled, but received a look from El. "What?"
"What do you hear, Sands?"
"Were you expecting anyone?"
"Not even El this evening, so no."
"We've got trouble."
--------------------
It was a good ten minutes before something actually happened. El had given Sands his guns back – though with strict instruction that Lorenzo and he were not to be on the receiving end... Why had Sands found that so funny? – and he and Lorenzo had gotten ready themselves.
"Fideo's going to be pissed he's missing the party," Lorenzo said with a grin.
"He can have my place and while he's at it they can stalk him instead, how's that sound?" Sands growled as he cocked his gun. This was it. They were in the house. He suppressed a groan as he realized he had no idea what the layout of Lorenzo's house was. He knew tables would be just waiting to trip him, along with other items in the house with such menacing natures as that.
Sands' gun was the first to fire. A loud curse in Spanish was heard before an audible thump that signified the man had fallen into a heap on the new carpet. A bloody heap, but no need to remind Lorenzo of that. Best to wait until he'd put his gun down and then mention it.
It was quiet. The quiet before the storm, in a way. Two seconds and a half later all hell broke loose. Gun fire rained down on the living room, sending the owner and his two guests scattering.
"Any great ideas?" Lorenzo hollered.
"Kill them."
"Oh yeah, great plan. Next?"
The gunfire stopped and there was an audible click. Sands tensed. "That wasn't a gun. What was it?"
"That would be the electricity going out," Lorenzo mumbled.
"Lights too, I suppose," Sands mused.
"No kidding."
A small smile graced the former CIA agent's lips. "That gives us that advantage."
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A/N: Wow... This story is becoming increasingly harder to write. With my Pirates of the Caribbean and Secret Window stories, I tend to have most of the plot line stuck in my head at the very beginning, perhaps missing an ending or a major scene until I get around to it, but hey, nothing too big, right? ::grins:: But this one.... This one is interesting. The plot's very fragmented in my head (ah, like the rest of my thoughts....) so I hope I can keep up with my normal one chapter a day thing that I enjoy doing. ::sighs:: don't hate me if I don't, ne? I've given my excuse :(
LaVieSansAmour: Yay! You found this one! I was so happy when I saw your name on a review! I do believe you are my most regular review b/c you follow ALL of my stories! ::gives you a big hug:: Thanks very much! And yes, your encouragement helps! But you'd tell me if it DID suck, right? Oh, I completely understand about the needing to know the years thing. (it's one year later, btw) It drives me up the wall not to know years, ages, ect... Could be why I write fanfiction, b/c in movies they don't always GIVE all that information... ::grumbles:: Ah, the horrible f word. It really doesn't bother me as much as it used to, but I think that's the part that bothers me. (does that make any since whatsoever?) We'll see how I handle Sands without using, and maybe I can come up with a creative way to avoid it! A new challenge! Yay! :)
E.S.Young: Ah Sands... I'm surprised I liked him as much as I do. He's just so... self absorbed... He's a difficult character for me to write b/c of that oh so lovely quality of his. (let me know if I start venturing OUT of character on him, ne?) Well, I hope you liked this chapter as much as the last! Hope to see you back.
A/N2: Grr... I've got an idea in my head for either later on in this fic or possibly making it a one shot, but the problem would be that if I made it a oneshot NOW, it'd still be set along this fic's timeline and therefore confusing.... Decisions decisions... Oh well, I'm headin' off towards bed b/c I've felt icky all day.... ::totters off in that general direction and promptly sleepwalks down the stairs::
A/N: well, I've been told I should continue, so I'm continuing! Hehe... Oh, and I found a typo in my story that I should correct here. It's been a year since the Day of the Dead. I had said something about El hearing about Sands for the past couple of years, and I meant year, so just thought I'd clear that up. Sorry :)
--------------------
"Lorenzo!" El hollered as he pushed open the door, stumbling in with his burden. "Some help?"
Lorenzo muttered several colourful metaphors as he came into the room. His eyes widened when he saw El stretching Sands out on the couch. "Is that who I think it is?" he managed. "The gunfighter that's been rumored to be blind, right?"
"That would be him," El answered.
Lorenzo leaned over the couch, a grin spreading across his face. "You know the kind of reward money we'd get off him?" He laughed when El shot him a glare. "Of course if he's a friend of yours we wouldn't do that...."
Sands groaned from his place on the couch. He seemed to come to all in one brief moment and he shot up, one hand connecting solidly with El's jaw, sending him stumbling backwards. He reached for a gun and found none.
"Sands."
The former CIA agent stopped where he was, head turning toward El as if he were staring strait at him. "Where are we?"
"My friend's house."
Sands cursed as he started to stand, but the fiery pain in his side dropped him back to the couch. He bit back a cry. "I told you to leave me the hell alone," he growled at length. "I don't need your help."
"But you do," El said simply as he pushed the American back against the pillows. "And a doctor, from the looks of it."
"Screw you," Sands growled as he swatted the mariachi's hand away.
Lorenzo moved around to the front of the couch, taking a closer look at their annoyed guest. "The cartel'll follow him here," he said.
"Hopefully not."
"This is my house, El. You know, I have no problem with you being here, but I'm not ready to put my neck on the line for someone I don't know, no matter how many interesting rumors are running about on him."
"What kind of interesting rumors?" Sands asked.
"Enough to know that the cartel will hunt you down here." Lorenzo made a face, even though he knew the former CIA agent couldn't see it. "I just started my payments on this place not long ago. I can't afford to get it shot up. And even if you weren't the blind gunfighter, if you're a friend of El's then someone will be after you."
"No shit?" Sands asked as he sat up straighter. "I thought the bullet hole in my side was a joke."
Lorenzo lurched forward at him, but El held him back. "I'll take him elsewhere if you want me to, but-"
"Why are you so intent on helping him?"
Sands cocked his head. "My question exactly."
El gave a long sigh. That was the question of the evening, wasn't it? Why was he helping Sheldon Sands? The man before him was manipulative to an extreme that the mariachi wasn't sure he wanted to venture into again. Sands wasn't to be trusted. But then again, he needed help, whether he'd admit it or not. And he might very well prove useful later on. That was a good answer. "I'd like to work with you against the cartel."
This brought a chuckle from the injured man. "What? You think I'm in this to help Mexico?" He laughed again. "Listen, amigo, I'm in this for myself. My own revenge. I rather like the hell I'm reigning down on the cartel and the fear I smell off of 'em."
"What if I am not finished with my own revenge?"
"You killed who you needed to, and good for you. I'm sure you got paid handsomely with the money I was supposed to be getting, not that I'm bitter of course."
"Of course," Lorenzo said mockingly. "Listen, Sands, wasn't it? I don't want my house shot up, got it? I want-"
"Shut up," Sands hissed, obviously intent on something.
"What the hell?" Lorenzo growled, but received a look from El. "What?"
"What do you hear, Sands?"
"Were you expecting anyone?"
"Not even El this evening, so no."
"We've got trouble."
--------------------
It was a good ten minutes before something actually happened. El had given Sands his guns back – though with strict instruction that Lorenzo and he were not to be on the receiving end... Why had Sands found that so funny? – and he and Lorenzo had gotten ready themselves.
"Fideo's going to be pissed he's missing the party," Lorenzo said with a grin.
"He can have my place and while he's at it they can stalk him instead, how's that sound?" Sands growled as he cocked his gun. This was it. They were in the house. He suppressed a groan as he realized he had no idea what the layout of Lorenzo's house was. He knew tables would be just waiting to trip him, along with other items in the house with such menacing natures as that.
Sands' gun was the first to fire. A loud curse in Spanish was heard before an audible thump that signified the man had fallen into a heap on the new carpet. A bloody heap, but no need to remind Lorenzo of that. Best to wait until he'd put his gun down and then mention it.
It was quiet. The quiet before the storm, in a way. Two seconds and a half later all hell broke loose. Gun fire rained down on the living room, sending the owner and his two guests scattering.
"Any great ideas?" Lorenzo hollered.
"Kill them."
"Oh yeah, great plan. Next?"
The gunfire stopped and there was an audible click. Sands tensed. "That wasn't a gun. What was it?"
"That would be the electricity going out," Lorenzo mumbled.
"Lights too, I suppose," Sands mused.
"No kidding."
A small smile graced the former CIA agent's lips. "That gives us that advantage."
---------------------
A/N: Wow... This story is becoming increasingly harder to write. With my Pirates of the Caribbean and Secret Window stories, I tend to have most of the plot line stuck in my head at the very beginning, perhaps missing an ending or a major scene until I get around to it, but hey, nothing too big, right? ::grins:: But this one.... This one is interesting. The plot's very fragmented in my head (ah, like the rest of my thoughts....) so I hope I can keep up with my normal one chapter a day thing that I enjoy doing. ::sighs:: don't hate me if I don't, ne? I've given my excuse :(
LaVieSansAmour: Yay! You found this one! I was so happy when I saw your name on a review! I do believe you are my most regular review b/c you follow ALL of my stories! ::gives you a big hug:: Thanks very much! And yes, your encouragement helps! But you'd tell me if it DID suck, right? Oh, I completely understand about the needing to know the years thing. (it's one year later, btw) It drives me up the wall not to know years, ages, ect... Could be why I write fanfiction, b/c in movies they don't always GIVE all that information... ::grumbles:: Ah, the horrible f word. It really doesn't bother me as much as it used to, but I think that's the part that bothers me. (does that make any since whatsoever?) We'll see how I handle Sands without using, and maybe I can come up with a creative way to avoid it! A new challenge! Yay! :)
E.S.Young: Ah Sands... I'm surprised I liked him as much as I do. He's just so... self absorbed... He's a difficult character for me to write b/c of that oh so lovely quality of his. (let me know if I start venturing OUT of character on him, ne?) Well, I hope you liked this chapter as much as the last! Hope to see you back.
A/N2: Grr... I've got an idea in my head for either later on in this fic or possibly making it a one shot, but the problem would be that if I made it a oneshot NOW, it'd still be set along this fic's timeline and therefore confusing.... Decisions decisions... Oh well, I'm headin' off towards bed b/c I've felt icky all day.... ::totters off in that general direction and promptly sleepwalks down the stairs::