DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fanfiction. So Close is not mine and no commercial profit will be gained from this piece of writing. Femmeslash, based on subtext in the movie itself, which is, incidentally in Mandarin/Cantonese. I couldn't resist doing English fic. Had to compromise the dialogue though, because most of it was visualized in Mandarin and then translated back to English.

Additional note: Qun is pronounced, approximately, "Chueen", and Hung would be "Hoong". I just like these spellings because they underline the fact that the characters have different accents and backgrounds.


Sheathing the Gun, an Epilogue

Chapter 2

Later in the café, a plate of toast sits between them, cups of tea on either end of the table they share.

Hung has her arms on the pristine tablecloth, her head slightly cocked. Qun is stirring her tea. There is silence, the two women temporarily at a loss for what to say underneath the witticisms and sly grins. Hung has felt it creeping upon her for some time now, the sense that it's now or never, the words she has yet to say. They have seen absolutely nothing of each other for three whole years, and the gap is difficult to breach. How could it be that something so easy should be so reluctant to slip into the open?

She clears her throat. "Ai Qun ah-- I hope you don't mind, me calling you Ah Qun." Qun does not react. Ah Hung feels like the poster child for 'false cheer' but goes on anyway. "You know, those events that happened, we both were doing what we had to do. I regret your sister's death."

"Those are long past, why bring them up?" Qun says rather flatly.

Quietly, Hung says, "Because those are things we will never forget."

Scorn colours Qun's crystalline voice. "Won't you?"

"One does not easily forget such a pair of sisters. You were the best in the business. Committed a crime that no one could have solved. If you hadn't given me the clue--"

"At that time, I was still young. Naive," Qun says in a tone that discourages further comment, and, indeed, she is frowning. But this is something Hung decided she has to do, and her hands, cupped around her cup, tighten their grip.

"If my friendship could help you move on, I would," she states. When nothing is forthcoming, she shakes her head. "It was you who went after me. Why?"

For a moment, Hung thinks that she has gone too far. Perhaps this bird will fly away after all. Then Qun mumbles, lower lip extended like a reluctant child who has done something wrong. "I was ... curious."

"You asked me," Hung says cautiously, sneaking a glance at her, "you asked me whom I would choose, you or he. I did not answer your question."

"Some things do not need to be said."

Well. "Perhaps."

"However," Hung adds, "you also did not give me the time to answer the question." And what would she say now? She doesn't know, not yet, but she wants to know, so she rolls with the punches like the trained fighter she is.

Qun sounds uncharacteristically quiet to Hung's ears. "What are you saying?"

"Why don't we continue our state of truce?"

She pauses with the cup raised before her lips. "Okay."

"Good," Hung nods, "I know I've said this before, but have you considered joining the forces?"

A grin, lopsided and familiar. "Recruiting again, Ah Hung?"

Hung grins back. "Yes, you could say so. I can't let a talent like you get away, right?"

"Maybe so. I will think about it."

And that's the best that Hung will be getting from her; she knows this well, and Qun is aware of it too. Hung steers the conversation back to normal territory. If anything between them could be considered normal. "How's it now? You are looking for a flat?"

"Yep. A place to stay first, and then a job." A trace of playfulness remains in her expression.

When she divulges nothing more, Hung internally files the discrepancy away for further analysis. She folds her fingers. "Well, good places aren't that easy to find. Are you looking for someplace away from the city?"

"I'm not particular. I thought about permanently renting a hotel once. But yes, a flat seems the best choice. Do you have something to recommend?"

A place to stay. Hung thinks of one day three years in their past, a day of darkness and the smell of sewage. She scratches at her nose, and makes the suggestion in her most casual tones. "You could come over and stay with me. I'm living alone anyway." She pauses, having taken the gamble, and watches as Qun studies the handle on her saucer.

"Wouldn't your boyfriend mind?" Qun chuckles. "It wouldn't be convenient."

Hung repeats the words from before. "What boyfriend?"

Qun smiles.