Morgana threw down her cigarette and marched up to Seamus, storming, "I've got a bone to pick with you, asshole. Who the hell do you think you are? God? Well, then allow me to present myself," she stopped in front of him, then in a blink pulled back her harm and cracking her knuckles against his jawbone. "That's for my brother." Rightt jab. "That's for her." Right jab, left jab, right jab. "That's for those three." Right uppercut, left uppercut, right jab. She dusted off her hands as she man slumped to the floor. "And that's for being Irish."
The other Irishmen's eyes grew wide, their leader unconscious, and Morgana backed into the folds of the group as the thugs moved closer. Even Natalie was impressed. "Bos, get onstage," Alex whispered, "Angels, break. You two...just kick ass."
Morgana smirked and made the first move, driving her knee into the stomach of a man in a stocking cap. He fell over and she kicked his head, and a trickle of blood slithered out onto the floor. Bosley obediently jumped up and huddled behind the bass drum, refusing the joint that the drummer was passing to him. Breathing in the secondhand fumes, he coughed.
Anthony and Morgana stood back to back, in an old formation they had used many times before. A ring of twelve thugs hovered around them, and they were almost laughing as they took them out two by two, their movements mirror images.
Dylan, Alex, and Natalie were each working two at a time, taking longer than the assassins were but getting the job done nonetheless. Bosley was peeking out from behind the drum set, in enough time to warn Alex of a man coming up behind her. She jumped into the air and spun, kicking both him and the other she was fighting. Their heads collided as they clattered to the floor. Seamus O'Grady was starting to come to.
He sat up and looked around. Bitch, he thought, looking around for Dylan and seeing that only two of his men were left. "Boys!" he yelled. The back door burst open, and in rushed a fresh twenty.
They cut Dylan off from the others, and Seamus walked up to her with a ravenous look in his eye, motioning for the others to go and fight. "Seamus," she breathed. "I thought I told ya, Helen," he smirked, "Ya can't hurt me anymore."
"No," came a voice, and a slender rapier blade came to rest gently on his shoulder, tilting toward his neck, "But I can."
When Seamus reached for the sword, it flew up deftly and sliced open his right hand. "Bastard," he spat, wiping off the blood and whirling around. Almost immediately, Anthony thrust the tip of the sword against the man's throat. "I'm going to really enjoy this..." he said, circling him and forcing him to rotate slowly as well, "And I'm going to make sure I do it right this time."
"Hey, Anthony!" Morgana called, having just knocked off another, "Let me castrate him when you're done playing, eh?" Anthony rolled his eyes and smirked, pulling the sword back. Seamus stared at him. "Fight," Anthony said, "I know how it's ending this time."
Alex had gone up to see Bosley. He had inhaled enough secondhand weed to make him mildly disoriented. She helped him up and dragged him over to fresh air, by the back door. She looked to where she had just been. "Oh, no," she whispered, "Nat."
Natalie was left alone. She was very close to being cornered, with only a table and a few yards between her and the wall. She was having a hard time with two thugs in front of her, and couldn't see the third coming up behind her.
"Natalie!" shouted a hoarse voice. It was a woman's voice, she knew that, but who's? "Get down!" the voice shouted again. Natalie ducked and felt two figures, one heavy and one agile, fly over her head. When she looked up, Morgana had hit a thug over the head with his own crowbar and was taking out the other two, knocking one out while stepping on the other's instep and kicking him in the nose.
"Holy..." panted Natalie, indicating the thug from behind her, "I didn't even notice him."
"Didn't mean to steal one of yours," said Morgana.
"No," said Natalie, shaking her head, "You, you saved my life..."
Morgana just smiled, without a hint of malice. Natalie, letting go of herself, smiled back.
They jerked their heads around when they heard a yelp from Seamus O'Grady, whom Anthony had pinned to the ground with his heel in the man's throat. "Wait a minute!" yelled Morgana, striding over and taking Anthony's place. "You want him, Dylan?" she asked. Dylan, who had been sitting on the bar and watching, shook her head.
"Toss me that spoon, then," she said. Natalie looked away. Morgana knelt over Seamus, who was looking at her like she was mad.
"I threatened to use one of these on Ciafatelli, you know," she said, turning the utensil over in her hand and lokoing at it philosophically, "After the idiot tried to kill everyone I cared about. I wanted to spare him, actually. Put him deeper in debt. But no," she looked down into Seamus's eyes, "I would drive this thing through your windpipe right now and not feel an ounce of guilt...But you aren't my kill. I'll let him decided what to do with you. You did, after all, attempt to kill him."
"What's the matter, sweetheart," snickered Seamus, "Afraid to do it yourself?" She shot a glance at Anthony, who nodded. With a snarl and a triumphant yell, she did exactly what she had talked about doing.
Cleaning the filthy blood off her hand, She stood up and tossed her hair. Anthony pulled her to him and hugged her protectively. When he let her go, Dylan put her arm around him and looked up at him, smiling. Alex had dumped a glass of water on Bosley, who had then shaken off the drug fumes. Natalie and Morgana caught each other's eyes and, to everyone's surprise, winked at each other.
"So?" Alex asked, "You two alright now?"
"I guess," said Natalie, "We had more in common than we thought."
And with that, everyone pulled into the most lopsided group hug on the face of the earth.
Charlie wished he could be there with them. He wished he could be more than a speakerbox to them. He wanted them to know what he looked like, but he couldn't. He hadn't ever before, and he couldn't now. And so he reluctantly turned and strode out of the open front door of the Bluesrock Bandstand, smiling to himself.
Before he left, however, he caught Morgana's eye and put his finger to his lips. She nodded, laying her head on Bosley's shoulder. "Round for the road?" he asked, motioning to the bar.
"No thanks," said Anthony, "I don't drink." Morgana laughed.
A/N: Story's almost over! Tear. I know, I'm sad too. I'm thinking of writing a prequel, you know, sort of Morgana and Anthony before now. What do you guys think?
The other Irishmen's eyes grew wide, their leader unconscious, and Morgana backed into the folds of the group as the thugs moved closer. Even Natalie was impressed. "Bos, get onstage," Alex whispered, "Angels, break. You two...just kick ass."
Morgana smirked and made the first move, driving her knee into the stomach of a man in a stocking cap. He fell over and she kicked his head, and a trickle of blood slithered out onto the floor. Bosley obediently jumped up and huddled behind the bass drum, refusing the joint that the drummer was passing to him. Breathing in the secondhand fumes, he coughed.
Anthony and Morgana stood back to back, in an old formation they had used many times before. A ring of twelve thugs hovered around them, and they were almost laughing as they took them out two by two, their movements mirror images.
Dylan, Alex, and Natalie were each working two at a time, taking longer than the assassins were but getting the job done nonetheless. Bosley was peeking out from behind the drum set, in enough time to warn Alex of a man coming up behind her. She jumped into the air and spun, kicking both him and the other she was fighting. Their heads collided as they clattered to the floor. Seamus O'Grady was starting to come to.
He sat up and looked around. Bitch, he thought, looking around for Dylan and seeing that only two of his men were left. "Boys!" he yelled. The back door burst open, and in rushed a fresh twenty.
They cut Dylan off from the others, and Seamus walked up to her with a ravenous look in his eye, motioning for the others to go and fight. "Seamus," she breathed. "I thought I told ya, Helen," he smirked, "Ya can't hurt me anymore."
"No," came a voice, and a slender rapier blade came to rest gently on his shoulder, tilting toward his neck, "But I can."
When Seamus reached for the sword, it flew up deftly and sliced open his right hand. "Bastard," he spat, wiping off the blood and whirling around. Almost immediately, Anthony thrust the tip of the sword against the man's throat. "I'm going to really enjoy this..." he said, circling him and forcing him to rotate slowly as well, "And I'm going to make sure I do it right this time."
"Hey, Anthony!" Morgana called, having just knocked off another, "Let me castrate him when you're done playing, eh?" Anthony rolled his eyes and smirked, pulling the sword back. Seamus stared at him. "Fight," Anthony said, "I know how it's ending this time."
Alex had gone up to see Bosley. He had inhaled enough secondhand weed to make him mildly disoriented. She helped him up and dragged him over to fresh air, by the back door. She looked to where she had just been. "Oh, no," she whispered, "Nat."
Natalie was left alone. She was very close to being cornered, with only a table and a few yards between her and the wall. She was having a hard time with two thugs in front of her, and couldn't see the third coming up behind her.
"Natalie!" shouted a hoarse voice. It was a woman's voice, she knew that, but who's? "Get down!" the voice shouted again. Natalie ducked and felt two figures, one heavy and one agile, fly over her head. When she looked up, Morgana had hit a thug over the head with his own crowbar and was taking out the other two, knocking one out while stepping on the other's instep and kicking him in the nose.
"Holy..." panted Natalie, indicating the thug from behind her, "I didn't even notice him."
"Didn't mean to steal one of yours," said Morgana.
"No," said Natalie, shaking her head, "You, you saved my life..."
Morgana just smiled, without a hint of malice. Natalie, letting go of herself, smiled back.
They jerked their heads around when they heard a yelp from Seamus O'Grady, whom Anthony had pinned to the ground with his heel in the man's throat. "Wait a minute!" yelled Morgana, striding over and taking Anthony's place. "You want him, Dylan?" she asked. Dylan, who had been sitting on the bar and watching, shook her head.
"Toss me that spoon, then," she said. Natalie looked away. Morgana knelt over Seamus, who was looking at her like she was mad.
"I threatened to use one of these on Ciafatelli, you know," she said, turning the utensil over in her hand and lokoing at it philosophically, "After the idiot tried to kill everyone I cared about. I wanted to spare him, actually. Put him deeper in debt. But no," she looked down into Seamus's eyes, "I would drive this thing through your windpipe right now and not feel an ounce of guilt...But you aren't my kill. I'll let him decided what to do with you. You did, after all, attempt to kill him."
"What's the matter, sweetheart," snickered Seamus, "Afraid to do it yourself?" She shot a glance at Anthony, who nodded. With a snarl and a triumphant yell, she did exactly what she had talked about doing.
Cleaning the filthy blood off her hand, She stood up and tossed her hair. Anthony pulled her to him and hugged her protectively. When he let her go, Dylan put her arm around him and looked up at him, smiling. Alex had dumped a glass of water on Bosley, who had then shaken off the drug fumes. Natalie and Morgana caught each other's eyes and, to everyone's surprise, winked at each other.
"So?" Alex asked, "You two alright now?"
"I guess," said Natalie, "We had more in common than we thought."
And with that, everyone pulled into the most lopsided group hug on the face of the earth.
Charlie wished he could be there with them. He wished he could be more than a speakerbox to them. He wanted them to know what he looked like, but he couldn't. He hadn't ever before, and he couldn't now. And so he reluctantly turned and strode out of the open front door of the Bluesrock Bandstand, smiling to himself.
Before he left, however, he caught Morgana's eye and put his finger to his lips. She nodded, laying her head on Bosley's shoulder. "Round for the road?" he asked, motioning to the bar.
"No thanks," said Anthony, "I don't drink." Morgana laughed.
A/N: Story's almost over! Tear. I know, I'm sad too. I'm thinking of writing a prequel, you know, sort of Morgana and Anthony before now. What do you guys think?