"Revy, can you move all the trash on one side of your room to the other?" Dutch asked around a cigarette, cocking his head to one side. "Before Balalaika arrives? Do you really want her to catch a glimpse of that?"
"What makes you think I'm taking her on a tour of our box of an apartment?" Revy huffed. The mere thought of Balalaika visiting made her stomach curdle. She didn't want to see the Russian, nor hear her voice, or smell her perfume. If Balalaika touched her, Revy was afraid she'd explode.
" Our apartment, huh? Remind me the last time you paid rent." Dutch blew a stream of smoke at the ceiling as he dried dishes, then setting the chipped porcelain on the counter beside him.
Sulking, Revy tied the elastic of a garbage bag and dragged it out the door. The plastic caught on the door handle and she angrily yanked it, almost tearing a hole large enough for old pasta or tea bags to spill onto the porch. He always did this when Chang was coming over as well. It was a trick to try and make her clean her room up, as if she was going to show it off.
In the end, however, Revy had taken out a total of four trash bags from her room, over the course of an hour and a half. Benny had taken to vacuuming the living room, and Dutch finishing up the kitchen while dumping the ashtrays. In her room she had discovered eleven crushed cans, empty gun oil bottles, bullet casings, and various wrappers of snack food. Her dirty laundry took up an entire laundry basket, that she shoved in a corner to deal with later. Fishing the bra off of her lamp, Revy looked over her work pridefully; ignoring the broken furniture and copious amounts of bullets rolling around in a busted drawer that needed organizing. As far as she was concerned, only what Dutch could see was what really mattered.
After she showered and dressed in a black tank top and cotton shorts, Dutch called her name from the living room.
Revy glowered at the cracked mirror set on her dresser. Sickness waxed her throat and the inside of her ribcage. Her eyes stung until she squeezed her eyes shut, hard. A quick hello would suffice. Then she would escape down the stairs and go somewhere , anywhere but here, with Balalaika taking up one third of the apartment. Rushing to the window, she peered out at the cracked parking lot. The Plymouth was pulled to the side, with Benny underneath it; a rusty toolbox sat to the right of him. The car glinted black in the rosy sunlight. Dutch had said they'd swing around in the later afternoon, here they were, appearing at six o'clock on the dot.
"Look, you don't have to stick around, but just say a quick "hi" and you can be on your way. It'll just be two old people chatting." He readying a pot of coffee to start brewing.
Suddenly it dawned on her. Dutch had no clue about what transpired a few days ago. Irritated, Revy nodded stiffly and crossed her arms tightly across her chest. "...I'll say hi."
Boris went around and opened the passenger door for Balalaika, who stepped out into the sunshine. Even at that distance she was so tall and broad that it was impossible to miss her; in that red suit and long, copious amounts of light hair. The Russian glanced up, and caught Revy's obvious staring from the window. Her eyes narrowed as she nursed a thick cigar, her legs squared firmly on the ground. She hadn't brought her coat due to the autumn heatwave that washed over the city, that left people lazy in their homes or living on the beach.
The scar ripped down her face, and the ones on her neck and chest were prominent in the setting sun. Revy missed the way those scars felt underneath her touch, how she had tasted that night, and the way her hard voice could turn almost soft. Lungs aching, she hadn't realised that while lost in her thoughts she wasn't breathing.
Dutch poured two mugs of coffee. "Hey, Revy. You want a cup?"
"Nah." Revy mumbled, moving away from the open kitchen window. She fished a cigarette packet out of the drawer to her right. Car wheels rolled over gravel as they heard sharp sounds of someone walking up the wooden stairs.
"Get the door, will you? I think we have to pretend to have manners for once."
She sighed as she dropped the pack onto the counter. Glumly, Revy walked over to the door. Balalaika knocked sharply, and after waiting a moment, Revy slowly opened the reinforced door, chewing on the inside of her cheek to hide her nerves. Jiggling her leg, the visage of Balalaika on their porch had her eyes bugging out of her head, and her hands sweaty. "Hey, Sis. Uh, welcome."
"Two Hands," Balalaika greeted. Orderly politeness seeped easily into her tone. Hands on her hips, it was more of a policeman about to announce they had a warrant to enter the apartment. Revy flinched. At the reaction, the blonde's expression softened. "May I come in?"
"Come on in." Revy said as the blonde breezed right past her, upper arm brushing her chest. She had no choice but to follow Balalaika, going around her quickly, and head right back for the cigarettes.
Upon closer inspection, Revy could see what Balalaika looked like when she was younger. The picture of her surrounded by men dead or still alive in uniform made Revy lean against the kitchen counter, and stare at the floor like a teenager. What was more important was that she was here, and a few feet away from seeing Revy's decrepit room that house several articles of her clothing a few photographs, and she was in their fucking apartment , and she was so pretty and intimidating, and Revy wanted to still be mad.
"Would you like a seat?" Dutch offered easily, gesturing towards the small table that they hardly ever used. More often items were just dumped unceremoniously on it, but Benny had managed to hide everything in a closet.
"Oh, no thank you, Dutch. I won't be too long." A folder was tucked underneath her arm as she accepted a cup of coffee. Her fingers wrapped around the ceramic, pink nails glowing.
"Boris coming in too?"
"No, no the sergeant won't. He'll be making a quick delivery while I am here. He isn't one for these types of gatherings."
Dutch smiled. "I figured as much."
He couldn't say a whole fucking sentence to save his life, Revy thought. Water from her damp hair trickled down her back, making her shiver despite the tropical heat.
Balalaika politely sipped the coffee, successfully hiding a twitch of distaste each time. Dutch finished his cup within fifteen minutes of the most boring conversation Revy had ever heard in her entire life. When they dipped into philosophy, Revy adjusted her position on leaning on the counter in irritation. She couldn't understand what was interesting about old literature, written by long-dead men, about hard topics that couldn't possibly be attributed to real life. Revy went through three cigarettes. While wanting to escape out to see what Benny was up to, a part of her didn't want to leave. Instead she watched Balalaika sip her hot drink and smoke and chat with Dutch about topics Revy couldn't begin to understand.
"Like Dostoevsky, you mean?" Her accent was smooth on the man's name, like she switched immediately into Russian. Revy mouthed it to herself, tongue flicking over the silent, faux Russian pronunciation.
"I read that when I was a younger guy, I'll admit, so you'll have to jog my memory."
About a damn book that must be three hundred years old? At Revy's eye roll, Balalaika drew her attention. "The young people of today have no interest in such matters." the blonde sighed, half-hiding a humored smile.
"That's not true, Sis. Rock knows about that Homer guy or some shit." she replied. Rock and Dutch had these debates as well. What made her confused was how could Balalaika act so normally? Revy was unable to meet the stony blue eyes staring at her inquisitively.
"I didn't take you to have an interest in Ancient Greek stories, Revy." Dutch joked, raising a cup of his black coffee to sip.
"I don't care about those stories. They're long as shit and boring ." They both looked at her like she was a tall child. Quickly, she realised that the blonde must have disliked that answer, and tried to rectify the situation. She didn't want Balalaika to get mad and leave. "Though I'm sure some people like them."
Balalaika tsked and shook her head. "I have to say I'm disappointed. I always figured Dutch's ramblings would have to have rubbed off on you at some point."
Dutch set his mug back onto the counter. "Revy's very selective over what she reads."
The corners of Balalaika's lips upturned, and she hid a chuckle at Revy's red face. Still, there was a reluctance in her actions. The blonde warily looked at Revy as if she was going to say something they'd both regret in front of Dutch.
"I read Old Yeller in middle school, okay? I have read fucking literature ."
"Why Two Hands, I stand corrected. Hard to argue with a fellow academic." Balalaika replied, then turned to Dutch, and continued their previous discussion, while Revy stayed embarrassed and a bit angry.
Bitterly, she refused to make eye contact and instead found herself staring at her burning cigarette, watching the paper warp into ash. The two in front of her busied themselves with the conversation about Marong, and what trouble his ghost brought. He was more hassle being dead than alive. Revy and Dutch both knew that Marong should have remained alive longer, but neither brought it up.
Balalaika brandished the Manila folder to Dutch, what passed as a smile on her pink lips. He took it quickly, and flipped through the contents, brow furrowed in interest. From what Revy could see, there were roughly five pages of paper. "Will this ever end? God damn. "
"I hope it will. However, I am relieved to say that this may be finished sooner than later."
"Really." Dutch said rather than asked.
She tapped cigar ash into an ashtray nearby. The sunset's light made her hair look like pale gold. Revy could note a few strands of silver at the crown of Balalaika's head. The Russian glanced at him. "I hear that they have a family get-together planned somewhere it in the city, Dutch."
"Finish twelve people at a party instead of thirty on a beach?"
"Surprised? One must think outside of battle, as difficult as that sounds." Balalaika replied as she blew out a puff of smoke, making her Russian accent gritty.
Dutch shrugged. "A few more sacrificial lambs. Hope this doesn't inspire more vengeance in them or what not."
"I'll assure you, once they see what we have in plan… I doubt they'll ever think about crossing us again." The Russian's eyes flickered at Revy, and held a gaze for a second. Revy stared intensely back, forgetting to blink for a moment, the heat of the blue eyes making her bend her head ever so slightly; a primal urge to protect her neck. What the fuck do you have planned?
Revy didn't want to think of what would happen to Janet. A thrill rose in her all the same. Still, there was next to nothing Revy knew about Janet, and no doubt nobody would tell her. It would do well to see the bitch's head on a spike, instead of her own, so why was she feeling so uneasy? She refused to think it would be so simple. Nothing in the world was simple now. Every single action carried weight that she could barely carry. It was hard to carry a water-logged Balalaika to the PT boat, a shining light blinding her eyes, the waves pushing into her open, gasping mouth. But this was even harder. Not after what happened. Revy leaned on the counter stiffly. Looking down, she realized that the cigarette had burned out without her even raising it to her lips for a second time.
"...Revy?"
Jerking her head up, she realized that she had missed a good portion of the conversation. Not that I should have been anyway… shit goes right over my head. Balalaika and Dutch both were waiting for her response; a reserved expression on her face and a questioning one on his. A cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck.
"Uh, yeah?"
"Something on your mind?" Balalaika teased lightly. Blonde hair brushed past her breast as she tilted her head. But underneath the teasing was an edginess that made Revy consider what her response should be.
"Nah, fuck, I'm just tired." Revy said. She made a show of rubbing her cheek with an uninjured hand. Tension skyrocketed between them, and she knew even Dutch could sense it. The blonde looked like she was struggling with something, the way her throat bobbed as she thought. Bringing her cigar back to her mouth, she sucked on it before catching Dutch's attention.
"Dutch," Balalaika began with a hint of caution. "I will need to speak with Revy alone, for a moment, if that is alright." Even she didn't bother to give an explanation; she was catching on quick to the mood that was locked between the three of them.
He debated it, looking back at a sweating Revy, and waited for her reaction. "Revy?"
Did she want to? It was a cruel thing, to see Balalaika for a few mere moments for the blonde to be whisked away again for weeks at a time. Revy had no clue as to why she was able to have handled it for so long. Loneliness was her companion, as it always had been, since she was a bruised child, but this was a different breed entirely. Like an animal tasting warm blood for the first time, it had awakened another primal urge that was never sated. Balalaika was waiting for an answer, her face impassive.
"Y-yeah, yeah, if that's cool with you." She agreed. Folding her arms in front of her, as if it would protect her from the Russian.
"Fine by me, then. I'll see what Benny's up to with the Plymouth." He said nonchalantly, giving a casual look to Balalaika that spelled out the whole situation with a I'll be right outside in the driveway, all I need is a sound of alarm to head back up.
"I appreciate it. It won't take long."
"No problem. We'll finish the discussion later." Dutch walked towards the door as the floor creaked under his heavy boots. Giving one last look at Revy, the sunglasses sitting high on the bridge of his nose, he twisted the knob. She returned the look with a subtle nod, because this was meant to happen. It had to. As he shut it behind him softly, Revy rushed to the open window and flung it down. Fixing the curtains to cover the glass, the room became darker, safer. She wished she could cover all the windows and they wouldn't need to talk or see the hurt in each other's eyes.
"We have a few topics to discuss." Balalaika said from behind her. It was business to her, Revy nearly forgot.
Clenching the rough curtain fabric in her hands, Revy stared out the crack between the two sheets of cloth while gnawing her lip. "About what?"
"Use your head."
So, she did. Revy turned towards her and crossed her arms. Impatiently she tapped her foot, wanting this whole conversation to be spoken and done with, with no more questions hanging between them. They were both owed that much. "Yeah, I hate being kept in the dark. What the hell is going on? What kind of scheme are you cooking up?"
" Scheming. Oh, how I dislike that word."
"And I dislike not being told what the fuck is happening with this whole shitshow, Sis."
Balalaika drew her lips together in disapproval. "You no longer have a part in what's going on. This is all on my shoulders, now."
"Who else was told about this?"
"No one was told, Rebecca. Save those who had a part to play, of course. And they were only told as much as they needed to know. You must know that there is no other way to keep a secret, especially in Roanapur. The objective was to rid ourselves of a potentially dangerous enemy as cheaply and quickly as I could." She flashed her white teeth in a grim smile. Worry settled in her crow's feet. "The plain truth is that you talk too much. That loose tongue will be our undoing."
Revy gnawed her lip, glaring at her with a limited amount of venom. She just couldn't muster it. "Well. You should just fucking cut it off."
"Don't tempt me." the blonde replied with a hint of humor.
"Is she dead?" Revy asked, quietly. She dreaded the answer, and her pulse quickened in her throat at the dark look Balalaika gave her.
"You want the truth?"
"Yeah. Don't spare me anything."
"Fine. Not yet, but I found a few of her employees. Only three, no major breakthrough." Balalaika pointed the cigar at Revy, it balancing precariously between her long fingers. "What would be the proper way to threaten such a genius ? Something simple. They can't be dead yet, no. So, I was poetic and sent out their tongues, in the same cardboard box she sent me. A gift back to their offices. Their toys that were taken away and can never be replaced. A cigar can, but not that useless flapping muscle those idiots begged with." The more Balalaika spoke, the more cruelty inflicted her words.
Revy's breath caught in her throat. "Sis… Holy shit…"
"Next I'll send their teeth." Balalaika stepped forward, the cigar returned to her mouth. As if daring for her to get upset. A lovesick woman-child Janet called her. Revy grew angry at the memory. Deep inside, it was true. Horribly so, and every day Revy was caring less about the revelation. But she couldn't even bring that word to her lips.
"That's fucked. But what else can I expect from you?" Revy said, backing up until the small of her back hit the counter. Hypocritical to say; she killed her fair share of non-combatants and would call it a day, but this was different, and she nearly regretted the appreciation that welled inside of her. She felt fucked up. Balalaika was out hunting to save what they had; every single action must have been difficult.
When Balalaika smiled, the burned side of her face tightened, twisting a corner of her mouth in a strange way. "They'd have done worse to you. I've seen it. I've had it done, and have never lost a night's sleep over it."
Now, that's a fucking joke if I ever heard one . Chills ran down Revy's back like cold water. "You don't sleep."
The sound of Balalaika's heels echoed through the empty apartment, and for a spare second Revy wished Dutch or Rock or Benny or anyone was here. She felt like a cornered animal, with a predator closing in. "You've become so sensitive about this simple matter. Has Rock rubbed off on you?"
Rock. of course you're trying to twist the knife. "Sis, you're fucking exhausted. Look at you. You need to sleep."
The cigar was grinded into a metal ashtray. Balalaika didn't bother replying for a moment, instead letting Revy squirm in silence. The blonde's eyes were blue pits above lavender discoloration. Heels tapped on the floor, slowly, one foot after the other, and the Russian took her time, because Rrevy wasn't going anywhere. Frozen, she watched the taller woman loom over her. She knew that she wasn't going to be hurt. Not here. Not while Dutch was outside, presumably arguing with Benny over the state of the cherry-red vintage.
Revy wasn't being touched yet and already between her legs she ached. Balalaika came closer, blocking out the light. Leaning down, her lips ghosted across Revy's, but she didn't move in, Instead they both remained where they were, breathing heavily, their noses bumping together. Revy arched her back and her breasts brushed the blonde's own chest. Her body was on fire, she thought, and she couldn't focus on anything except flowery perfume.
Putting a shaky hand on her chest, the sensation of feeling Balalaika's lungs fill with air made her gasp with want to fold inside her arms, and hide her face in blonde hair, and then be kissed senseless. The scar that dipped under the red suit jacket was soft, and rippled in the light. "No." Revy husked. "Y-you don't get to fucking kiss me when you're like this."
"Come with me." her voice was low, like she didn't want to say it out loud. Balalaika leaned back, blinking slowly.
Revy had dreamed of hearing those words from her for days now. Tears wanted to well up, and she barely could distinguish if it was from anger, sadness, or relief. She was cold as Balalaika stepped backward, close enough to where Revy could remain touching her upper chest. " Why ?"
"You ask that? You, who started all this?"
"Don't you dare put the fucking blame on me. You allowed this, Sis. When I started coming to you instead of hanging around Rock, admit it Sis, you loved it."
It was as if Balalaika was suddenly slapped across the face. Broken out of her sadistic mood, the blonde stared at Revy in muted shock, flickers of guilt in her eyes. The memories of Revy being punched and choked hung between them; the sheer knowledge of how Balalaika could easily get the upper hand. Revy couldn't let the blonde despair; she knew the taste of that all too well herself. "What's going on? Forget everything else. Background noise, that's all it fucking is. Fuck them. Fuck Janet. It's just us now."
"How can we be sure?" Balalaika muttered. "That bitch must have listening devices scattered around."
"She already knows, let's be real. And if she's listening… then she'll know this means something to you. And that should scare the fucking hell out of her. I know you care, don't bullshit me. You're mine, even after what happened." Voice cracking, Revy ignored the self-loathing thoughts in the back of her head.
"You're truly a child Rebecca," Balalaika said tensely. "You think that didn't bother me? I reached for you, and you pulled away. I had thought..."
I don't wanna hear it. I know what you were thinking. "Who can blame me? I was fucking upset; I was crying like a baby. I'm wrapped around your finger and you fucking know it."
Only when they were alone did she see Balalaika smile in the gentle way that Revy grew to love, or hear her laugh like the woman she was. To others Balalaika was the kapitan of Hotel Moscow, head bowed beneath the weight of an imaginary crown even when her head was bare. A moment passed where Balalaika looked at her with that small smile, her shoulders softening. The wistful way she had looked at her the night they had been together was all that Revy saw. Finally, the blonde spoke. "I am yours. Do I even need to say it?"
"You've been mine since I saved your ass." Revy reflected, her eyes widening. A ridiculous notion, however saying those words made her feel content despite the sadness churning in her chest. It probably wasn't true; she allowed herself to think it anyway. Her hand remained on Balalaika's chest, but slid down to touch a button on the crimson suit jacket. She circled it with her finger, than dropped her hand back to her side, reluctantly.
Balalaika chucked at the response, but didn't deny it. "I remember your face, for a mere moment. Even when I broke through the water, thanks to you, I was still drowning from the water in my lungs, and bleeding out. I was so close… but you refused to let me die. You and Dutch."
"'Cause Roanapur would have been fucking destroyed." By your men, Revy thought. You brought order and more fucking chaos, Benny once said.
"You're right." The blonde replied. Slowly she turned away, taking a few steps towards the other side of the kitchen. "So… I must carry on, and earn back the reward for my men's hard service."
There's no honor in drowning. "The reward?"
Balalaika ignored the question. "Rebecca, this drains me. Not what is going on between us. The mere fact that I cannot enjoy a night with you without paying a price."
"It's only us now. There's not fucker in sight, and if there is I'll kill 'em. You're paying for my shitty mistake, and I'm sorry, okay?" Revy came closer and touched Balalaika's wide shoulder. The muscle was tense. "Hey." Revy tugged at the blonde's arm, fingers digging in and feeling a flex of a bicep. Balalaika was drowning again, and she had to fish her out of the pitch-black water. "Get out of your head. Look at me."
The blonde looked back at her with corpse eyes that she knew were remembering something worse. Afghanistan , Revy wanted to say, to ask what she was thinking of; of the torture, the starvation, the loneliness. She was lonely too. Surrounded by all those men who worshipped the ground she walked on, but deep down, Balalaika must have been lacking. Revy wanted to reach in and take all that sat on her shoulders away from her, but the pain was too deeply intertwined to be pulled out, and it was a useless, girlish want that she mentally kicked herself.
Revy took Balalaika by the waist and drew her close, until they pressed flush together. Raising a hand, she cupped the Russian's scarred cheek, fingers dancing down by her sharp jaw. Balalaika could feel the scars too. Heavy on her skin; she must feel them all the time, and maybe she can remember how it happened, as clear as still water. Revy's throat felt like it as being pinched shut by an invisible fist. She gazed up at the blonde's face, taking in the sorrow and the vengeance and the coldness of it all, and then went up on the tips of her toes and kissed her.
A shuddered gasp left Balalaika's painted lips, and using the opportunity as she did before, Revy slid a tongue inside of her mouth. She tasted cheap coffee and the cigar's pepper, so painfully familiar that Revy dry-sobbed. She missed being held so badly that she shook against the taller woman's warm body.
"You'll never leave me again, are you fucking listening? I won't let you." she managed out, when Balalaika cupped her lower back, her warmth so so welcome on the exposed skin. The Russian kissed back, her canine nipping into Revy's chapped bottom lip. It was easy to lose herself in the ways Balalaika's tongue chased her own, and Revy forgot how isolated she made herself the past couple of days, despite being around people. Balalaika moaned in pure need, tightening her hold, sliding a hand into Revy's loose hair, then holding fast as if she was going to back away.
Revy kissed with no restraint or hesitation, and Balalaika kept up until she overpowered Revy, her tongue slickly strong and saliva beaded at the corners of their lips; Revy was too afraid to pull away for a single breath of air, incase the blonde left her again. It didn't matter if someone walked in, only Balalaika's eyes mattered. Acrylic nails dug into her back, hot little spikes of pain driving Revy to huddling close in Balalaika's arms as they sloppily kissed, smearing waxy lipstick over each other's mouths.
Groping at Balalaika's shoulders, Revy slid a hand underneath the jacket and blouse, the scars tickling the palm of her healing hand. The sensation of having her hair pulled and stroked at the same time made her tremble in primal need, whimpers pouring out of her mouth, rumbling on their tongues. The wide hand on her back slid down to cup her backside, groping her hip, and the whimpers turned into wild, delirious moans, and suddenly Revy needed to be naked and fully alone with Balalaika right then and there. Feeling the way the blonde breathed heavily, Revy could tell that she was wet and achingly open. A hand trailed up her back slowly.
"I'm coming with you tonigh-" Someone knocked on the door, and Balalaika stepped away to pick up the damp dishrag next to the leaky sink, and wash the lipstick residue off her mouth. She came closer to Revy, and grabbing her chin to keep her still, hastily washed her lower face as well. "H-Hey, fuck!" Revy attempted to say clearly, her eyes hazy with lust; her body feeling like it was weighed down with lead. The rough cloth was then quickly thrown in the sink without the blonde looking behind her.
Touching her irritated, panting mouth, Revy backed up to the opposite side of the kitchen, watching Balalaika's eyes sharpen and gain two inches as she straightened herself. The door opened as the blonde fixed her jacket.
Benny and Dutch entered, with the latter closing the door securely behind him. The two women refused to even look at one another, like that would solidify what they had done, neglecting their mussed hair and Balalaika's lack of lipstick. "Everything alright in here?" Dutch asked, a lit cigarette in his hand. Benny was wiping his hands with a stained rag.
"Peachy." Revy knew her face was flushed and her breath heavy. "What was up with the car, Benny?"
"Brakes needed changing, and we may have a bad wheel bearing on our hands. Just what I needed. It never ends." the blonde man replied tiredly, rubbing his forehead and leaving a smeared stripe of oil. "Long time no see, Balalaika. Hope you've been holding up well."
"Ah, Benny. Work never ends either." she replied with a shrug.
Benny sensed the tension in the kitchen with a cock of an eyebrow. His hair plastered to his forehead, he was just about done with any sort of other business at hand. "If you all don't mind, I'm gonna go clean up. I've got a date tonight, anyway."
"Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Balalaika replied as her fingers moved to cover a catlike smirk on her bare lips. Oh ha, ha, ha. Revy scoffed and watched the Russian's chest expand as she took deep breaths to calm herself.
"I'll try." he chuckled.
Revy's stomach twisted. "Very funny, Sis." she said as Benny rounded the corner into the hallway, crossing her arms to hide if her nipples were poking through her top.
"Dutch. I'll contact you in two days time with an update on the situation."
Streams of smoke were blown out his mouth. His hands were stained with car oil, a wrench in the pocket of his vest. "We'll be waiting."
"That's what I like to hear. I thank you as well for allowing me to speak with… Two Hands, I greatly appreciate it."
The shower in the bathroom turned on with a rusted squeak. Revy ran her fingers through her tangled hair and shifted her feet nervously. She felt completely caught by Dutch, and she wanted to laugh with how she and the blonde were like two teenagers, waiting for any mention of what they had done.
"No problem." Dutch waited as if Revy was going to reply. "Boris is back, by the way. Was good talking with him as well."
With one hand on her hip, the Russian turned to Revy and began what was obviously going to be something that would aid in managing to sneak her away. And Revy was tired of it. "Now, Two Hands-"
"It's good, Sis. Uhm… we don't gotta be cautious." Revy blurted before clapping a hand over her mouth as she nervously cackled. "Oh, fuck. Well, it's about time you fucking knew, Sis. No more secrets. No more fucking up."
Balalaika's eyes widened and she glanced back at Dutch. Her demeanor became almost defensive with her spine straight as an arrow. But you have fucked up, the look on the Russian's face said. "I see."
Dutch hid back a chuckle that Revy saw right through. "Look, I've got no opinion on this. Didn't talk about anything worthy of note, but enough to where Revy wouldn't go searching anymore."
The blonde remained stoic, and nonchalantly pushed her hair over her shoulder. Her eyes bored holes right through him. "How much do you know about this?"
"I know enough." Dutch said after a heartbeat. He looked over at Revy, who stood silently, pondering, watching the conversation with wild eyes. Regret was what she wanted to feel. However it was overcome by relief and a strange sense of contentment.
"I'm going back to her place, Dutch." Revy interrupted hastily. Ignoring the odd glance she was given, she forced herself to spit out the last word. "Tonight."
He nodded. Dutch was completely unbothered. Through his lifetime he must have seen it all. "Don't need to tell me."
"So, who else knows? I assumed that after this problem you'd be more careful." the blonde cut in, pinching her nose bridge in frustration. She was thoroughly perplexed, and Revy could only pout up at her, biting back a groan. But she had to have been as tired of the hiding as much as Revy had been. Balalaika took a deep slow breath, watching her warily. If she hadn't been exhausted before, it looked as if the blonde wanted to head straight to bed right now.
"Well that's not fucking fair! Boris knows." Revy muttered, glaring at Balalaika.
The blonde ran a hand through her hair and said something in Russian. Revy simmered with victory. Balalaika was rendered almost speechless, the way she carefully judged what she was going to say next. "Two Hands, just shut it. I understand, alright? This isn't a topic to speak of now."
"I'm just saying that someone on my side has to know too, okay? What the fuck am I supposed to do? Huh?" Revy was exhausted of the secrecy. Her lungs were still burning from the lack of oxygen during the desperate kissing.
"Listen, we are heading out now. This is enough." Balalaika said. Her face was pale as milk, and her eyes were shut. Massaging the bridge of her nose she shook her head. Ashamed, Revy could only nod at the quiet tone of the Russian's voice. Now she could only feel regret at the stress she undoubtedly caused. If she went to hold Balalaika in her arms, would she pull away?
"Let me get shoes on." Revy raced to her room. Throwing open her battered bedroom door, she pulled on her boots with a speed she didn't think she had in her. Heading back into the doorway, she paused. Blowing a strand of hair out of her face, Revy turned towards the dresser. Ignoring the conversation going on out in the kitchen, she stepped away from the doorway and slid open the drawer holding Balalaika's contents. Pushing aside the underwear, she picked up the folder in one shaking hand. Revy flipped it open and studied the two pictures. Tucking it under her arm securely, she went back out to meet the two of them with her heart rattling in her ribs.