Molly groaned as she sat down and began unbraiding her hair. The plane rumbled beneath her as Barney started it up. They had spent all night lost in the damn rainforest with a storm raging around them.
It had been three weeks since she fled from Caesar's. She hadn't hung out with them since. The Ice Queen was back. It hadn't gone unnoticed by Barney.
"What, you don't like camping?" Gunnar leered at her.
"I don't like the possibility of pneumonia," she snapped back, wrapping her hairband around her braid. "And I hate getting caught in the rain."
Billy grinned at her as she settled in for the plane ride home.
"Come on, Booker, you never come out with us!" Caesar tried to convince her as they milled about the hangar. "You're gonna hurt our feelings!"
Molly let out a bark of laughter at that.
"Heaven forbid your feelings should get hurt," she said dryly.
"Come on, we survived another mission. You didn't get pneumonia-"
"That remains to be seen," she said, tossing her bag in her truck. Despite her words and sarcastic tone, there was mirth in her eyes.
"You know, boys, I think she's just scared she'll lose at pool," Gunnar spoke up. The rest of the Expendables 'Ooh'ed tauntingly.
"I probably would. I've never played a game of pool. But I could totally whup your ass at cards," she said honestly. Caesar threw an arm around her.
"What's your game, Booker? Texas Hold 'Em? Blackjack?"
"Crazy Eights," she smirked.
"Great, put your money where your mouth is. I'll buy ya a drink and we'll see about Crazy Eights!"
Molly sighed heavily.
"Fine. I suppose I have to teach you the error of your ways. You should never challenge a Booker to cards."
Molly showed up at the bar later on. All the dirt had been scrubbed from her skin and her hair was pinned back from her face.
She wore a knee length denim skirt and a form fitting t shirt. Pewter guitar earrings hung from her ears.
"Damn, I think you should dress up like a girl more often, Booker!" Caesar's had alcohol on his breath as he squeezed her into his side.
She elbowed him sharply in the diaphragm.
"Don't make me break your fingers, Caesar," she said sternly. He held up his hands in surrender, backing off.
"Let me buy ya a drink, beautiful, what's your poison?" Tool asked, coming up to her.
"Just a Coke, Tool," her eyes went a little darker.
"What, too good to drink with us?" Gunnar's voice was teasing.
"I've got a half an hour drive home, Jensen," she reproved.
The tension was running high at the Expendables' table. At first, it had been Billy, Molly, Caesar, Gunnar, and Tool playing the card game, but one by one, they'd dropped out.
Now it was down to Molly and Caesar. Caesar had two cards left and Molly had one. Caesar laid the King of Diamonds over the Kings of Clubs.
"Your move, Molly," he dared. With careful deliberation, she leaned forward and put her card down. It was an Eight of Hearts.
"Sorry, Hale," her smirk was utterly unapologetic, though. He swore and slammed his fist on the table.
"I could still kick your ass at pool!" he fumed.
"No argument there. I'm gonna head home. See you fellas later," she pressed two fingers to her brow in a loose salute.
"Do me a favor and take Kid home? He's stayed up past his bedtime," Barney gestured to a drunken Billy who was half heartedly debating Hemingway with a more sober Toll Road. Molly shook her head.
"Sure, boss," she ambled over to Billy. "Come on, Kid, it's time to go home," she pulled at him arm.
"Mol-Molly, just tell him that Hemingway is too sad for high school!" Billy slurred, getting to his feet. He leaned heavily on her arm, his blue eyes fought to focus on her. Molly raised a brow and glanced at Toll.
"Hemingway was a sad guy, Billy," she agreed.
"I cried for days after I read- What did I read?"
"A Farewell to Arms?" Toll supplied helpfully as he rose to help Molly shepherd Billy out to her truck.
"Yes!"
"I'll take care of his bike," Toll assured her as she buckled Billy into her passenger seat.
"Much obliged. Tell Ross he owes me," she said dryly.
Molly drove Billy home, getting an earful about all the sad books he'd ever read. He was talking about Marley & Me when Molly guided him up the front steps of his apartment.
"Where're your keys, Billy?" she asked patiently. He patted his pockets slowly and pulled a keyring out. She snatched it out of his hands and unlocked the door. Molly pulled him into his apartment and into the bedroom.
When she pushed him to his bed, he pulled her with him.
"Billy, I'll break your fingers if you don't let go," she warned, pushing her arms between them.
"I miss my Sophia," he confessed as Molly sat up. "She's in France, you know. God, I don't know what made her look twice at me, Molly."
She got up and pulled his gym shoes off.
"You're a good guy, Kid," she told him bluntly, "and as much as girls chase after the bad boys, they end up settling down with the good boys."
"You're a nice girl, Molly, as much as you try to hide away from everybody. You're a big softie...But me, I've killed men, Molly, for money, for my country. Killers shouldn't be happy."
"You're heading down a dangerous rabbit trail, Kid, quit while you're ahead," she advised grimly.
"Does it ever bother you?" he should have been too drunk to be asking such serious questions. Molly wanted to force herself to walk out of the apartment, to go home and get drunk, but she couldn't.
"Does what?" her voice was schooled.
"That you've killed people?"
"My squad was killed, Billy, by bad men. Ever since that day, I've killed bad men. I guess I figure that one day, I'll get around to the bad men responsible for their deaths," Molly glanced at Billy, but his eyes were closed. He had passed out.
"Too damn typical, Booker. You try to have a heart to heart with a drunk," she muttered to herself as she got up to leave.
A/N: Thanks for the reviews, favorites, and follows! Stay tuned, things start speeding up in the next chapter!