Disclaimer: The characters in this story are mine, but the reality is
courtesy of the great and wonderful George Lucas of Lucasarts Inc. We bow
down to thee!
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He lights another cigarette and leans back on his elbows. The petite woman scowls at him. "You'll die young, Vance." He grins. "That's the plan." She rolls her eyes, glancing back to the computer screen. There's a silence between the two, both focused on the scrolling information hurling itself up the monitor of the outdated device. The burly man sighs, sinking back further into the couch. "Y'think that thing'll be done anytime soon?" He pauses, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "We should update, y'know." She casts him an icy look, to which he replies with a raised brow. "It's true. That piece o'shit won't last..." "Vance, shut up." She cuts him off, sighing in frustration. He shakes his head, taking another long drag of his cigarette. There's another silence as the two watch the progress of the small computer. "We've got to stop operatin' out of a suitcase," he muses to himself, only half intending for her to hear. She ignores him this time, keeping her focus on the screen. Her eyes dart as she watches, glancing over the information as it comes and goes. A few moments pass, and boredom grips the man rather suddenly. He exhales another smoky cloud as he stands and heads for the liquor cabinet. The woman casts him a disapproving glance. "Is this how you pictured yourself when you were young?" "What, an ex-priest who can't stay sober for more than a few hours? Or an ex-priest who works for a gang of criminal masterminds?" He grins his unbearable grin. She rolls her eyes. "Both." "Nah. I always thought I'd be kissin' God's arse for the rest of my life." She raises a brow, momentarily seeming drawn by the conversation. "What changed that ideal?" He shrugs. "Ah, I wouldn't have called it an ideal..." "You're avoiding the question." "Yeah... well, I discovered women, didn't I?" He turns away from her, pouring himself a drink. She pauses a moment, frowning at his back. "That can't have been all." "Nah..." He brushes the question aside, not bothering to elaborate though she waits for him to do so. "Well...?" "Well what?" He looks over his shoulder at her. "Y'want a drink?" "Don't change the subject." "I wasn't, y'want one or not?" He raises a brow at her. "No, thankyou." She seems to loose interest and turns once more to the screen. He returns to his spot on the couch, drink in hand. "I killed my parents, y'know." "What?" She turns to look at him again. "Yeah." "Why?" He pauses, swirling his drink in its glass, watching it thoughtfully. He shrugs. "Revenge." "For what?" "For screwin' with my head. For makin' me believe the world was pristine. For lyin'." He doesn't look up from his drink. "That's not much of a reason." She watches him carefully, as if expecting an attack of some kind. But he remains where he is, silent. "Vance...?" "You wanna drop it, doll?" He finally looks up at her, one brow raised in irritation. She rolls her eyes. "You started the conversa..." "Yeah, and now I'm endin' it." He cuts her off, taking a large mouthful of his drink. A moment or two passes. She watches the small screen. He watches the remaining liquid in his glass. Neither really pay attention to what their eyes see, more absorbed with the thoughts milling in their minds. The silence is awkward, but soon broken by a beep from the computer. "We're in." She leans closer to the screen, grateful for the distraction from the lull in conversation. He sits up, leaning over the arm of the couch, watching the screen from over her shoulder. "Right... y'know what to look for." He leans back again as she nods her response, beginning to tap at the keyboard. "...Medical records?" She pauses, turning to look at him for a moment. He nods once. "Yeah. Anything with your name in or on it, any trace of any file that ever had anything to do with you... get rid of it." "...Receipt records?" He raises a brow at her rather than repeating himself. She rolls her eyes for the millionth time. "Alright, alright... I get it." He shakes his head and smiles faintly.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
He lights another cigarette and leans back on his elbows. The petite woman scowls at him. "You'll die young, Vance." He grins. "That's the plan." She rolls her eyes, glancing back to the computer screen. There's a silence between the two, both focused on the scrolling information hurling itself up the monitor of the outdated device. The burly man sighs, sinking back further into the couch. "Y'think that thing'll be done anytime soon?" He pauses, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "We should update, y'know." She casts him an icy look, to which he replies with a raised brow. "It's true. That piece o'shit won't last..." "Vance, shut up." She cuts him off, sighing in frustration. He shakes his head, taking another long drag of his cigarette. There's another silence as the two watch the progress of the small computer. "We've got to stop operatin' out of a suitcase," he muses to himself, only half intending for her to hear. She ignores him this time, keeping her focus on the screen. Her eyes dart as she watches, glancing over the information as it comes and goes. A few moments pass, and boredom grips the man rather suddenly. He exhales another smoky cloud as he stands and heads for the liquor cabinet. The woman casts him a disapproving glance. "Is this how you pictured yourself when you were young?" "What, an ex-priest who can't stay sober for more than a few hours? Or an ex-priest who works for a gang of criminal masterminds?" He grins his unbearable grin. She rolls her eyes. "Both." "Nah. I always thought I'd be kissin' God's arse for the rest of my life." She raises a brow, momentarily seeming drawn by the conversation. "What changed that ideal?" He shrugs. "Ah, I wouldn't have called it an ideal..." "You're avoiding the question." "Yeah... well, I discovered women, didn't I?" He turns away from her, pouring himself a drink. She pauses a moment, frowning at his back. "That can't have been all." "Nah..." He brushes the question aside, not bothering to elaborate though she waits for him to do so. "Well...?" "Well what?" He looks over his shoulder at her. "Y'want a drink?" "Don't change the subject." "I wasn't, y'want one or not?" He raises a brow at her. "No, thankyou." She seems to loose interest and turns once more to the screen. He returns to his spot on the couch, drink in hand. "I killed my parents, y'know." "What?" She turns to look at him again. "Yeah." "Why?" He pauses, swirling his drink in its glass, watching it thoughtfully. He shrugs. "Revenge." "For what?" "For screwin' with my head. For makin' me believe the world was pristine. For lyin'." He doesn't look up from his drink. "That's not much of a reason." She watches him carefully, as if expecting an attack of some kind. But he remains where he is, silent. "Vance...?" "You wanna drop it, doll?" He finally looks up at her, one brow raised in irritation. She rolls her eyes. "You started the conversa..." "Yeah, and now I'm endin' it." He cuts her off, taking a large mouthful of his drink. A moment or two passes. She watches the small screen. He watches the remaining liquid in his glass. Neither really pay attention to what their eyes see, more absorbed with the thoughts milling in their minds. The silence is awkward, but soon broken by a beep from the computer. "We're in." She leans closer to the screen, grateful for the distraction from the lull in conversation. He sits up, leaning over the arm of the couch, watching the screen from over her shoulder. "Right... y'know what to look for." He leans back again as she nods her response, beginning to tap at the keyboard. "...Medical records?" She pauses, turning to look at him for a moment. He nods once. "Yeah. Anything with your name in or on it, any trace of any file that ever had anything to do with you... get rid of it." "...Receipt records?" He raises a brow at her rather than repeating himself. She rolls her eyes for the millionth time. "Alright, alright... I get it." He shakes his head and smiles faintly.