Killa heard Randall's voice before she saw him.
"No, not at all. It's just a bit of blood, no, it'll heal just fine."
She then heard One's voice, it sounded weird, a bit threatening?
"We understand one another, we presume?"
"Yes, I told you, that's it."
As she rounded the landing, she saw Randall standing with his back to her facing One. One's face looked cold, there was an unpleasant smirk playing about his lips. He seemed different from the One she'd interacted with, almost a different person. What had they been talking about?
As she was thinking this, Two noticed the look on her face and thought to his brother "We are disturbing Killa," and sent One an image of her expression. One adjusted the expression of his face to appear friendlier.
Killa watched One for a second and noticed a new expression come over his face, he looked sort of nauseous. Maybe he just didn't feel well and Randall had said something to upset him, like that would be a surprise. Randall was about as friendly as a pit viper to nearly everyone.
"Randall!" He spun around and grinned to see her, then looked appraisingly at Two behind her, especially since Two deliberately picked that moment to circle Killa's waist with his arm. She looked irritated, brushed Two's arm away, then ran down the remaining steps to Randall and jumped in his arms.
Randall caught her and spun her around. This was their regular greeting, but after One had interrogated him, he felt a little nervous about it. Plus Two was openly glaring at him now, the corners of his mouth so far down they all but touched his chin. Where did she meet these two? They were about as bad as they came from what he had heard. Normally he didn't worry about other people, but Killa was an exception. She was too good, too nice for her own safety. It could get her in trouble if she met the wrong people, and these guys were about as wrong as people got.
He was in a real bind. One made it very clear to him what would happen if he revealed their real job to Killa. He was to tell her, if she asked, that they were bodyguards for a wealthy businessman. This was true, but he'd also heard other, darker, rumors of what they did, of some of their extra duties for the Merovingian. He hadn't heard any stories about them abusing women, that was true, but he hadn't asked either. Christ, Killa could pick'em.
Also, One made it equally clear that Killa was not to be involved in any of Randall's illegal ventures, as if he would do that to her. He was proud of her, proud to see her doing something with her life, plus, he knew he owed her for all her help in the past. He'd never say it, but Killa was the only real family he had. He wanted her as far away as possible from anything that could hurt her, and those guys could definitely hurt her.
And there'd be nothing he could do.
He thought about the exchange he had with One outside the dojo. The cuts on his neck and chest came from the questions he'd insisted on asking One, starting with, "What is Killa to you?"
One grabbed him by the hair, yanked him off the ground where he'd tripped and fell, then held a straight razor to his throat and said, "We do not answer your questions, you answer ours."
Randall was scared, sure, but he doubted the man would kill him with Killa upstairs. "She's my friend. You want me to be quiet, I want to know--is she for the Merovingian?"
He'd heard stories of women fetched for the Merovingain. True, none of them were killed, but they were usually a little off after the encounter, and some were worse. He'd heard about a couple of suicides that occurred in the restaurant, and one at club Hel, all women who received the Merovingian's attentions. Killa wasn't going to go that way, no fing way.
"She is NOT for the Merovingian," the man ground out as the razor pressed a thin cut into Randall's throat, "and she no longer any of YOUR concern." So, the guy thought he was Killa's boyfriend. Great.
"Killa is my friend, my best friend, my only friend. That's all." Randall paused and worked up his courage, "If she is not for the Merovingain, then why are you here?"
"We are not the Merovingain's pimps. We do not fetch women for the Merovingian, nor do we participate in his 'activities.' You are aware of what it is we do." One drew a thin line a few inches down Randall's chest. Great, another t-shirt ruined. This was one of his favorites too.
"You are bodyguards, and"
"You know what we do," One hissed.
Randall always thought that cliché about blood running cold was stupid, how could your blood run cold? But he felt goose bumps stand up on his skin, and his blood, it felt cold. They were here to kill Killa. Today was going to be the day he died.
After the thin cut down Randall's chest, One held the razor at his side. That gave Randall some room to maneuver; he elbowed One at the same time as he grabbed for his gun. The assassin let him go, but gave him another little cut on his belly as he spun away and escaped.
Randall pulled his Kimber .45 out of its holster and aimed it at One's head. "Answer the fing question. You're here to kill her? What?"
Twirling his razor, One smirked at Randall, obviously not the least bit afraid. Randall remembered the other rumors, rumors of super-human abilities. Well, a bullet would stop most anything, f the rumors.
"We teach here. She interests us." A pause, then One continued, "This is unusual behavior for you. We are familiar with your reputation, she must be important to you."
"I already said she's my friend. She helped me out in high school, I told you, she tutored me, that's all."
"You risk your life for a friendly tutor?" One sneered.
"I didn't like the shave you tried to give me. I prefer to keep the skin on my neck." Randall eyed him for a second, then continued, "So, tell me this, you"
One didn't let him finish. With a bored wave of his hand he said, "Not that you could interfere, but no, we do not plan to harm her. She is not a target. She will not be a target. You will do nothing to endanger her either. You will do nothing to interfere with us. You will tell her nothing about our lives with the Merovingian, except that we are bodyguards."
Then he shut his razor, put it in his pocket and lazily sneered, "Put down your weapon, this IS a public street."
Slipping his gun back into the holster, Randall felt like he had just passed a test of some kind. He still had mixed feelings about the twins' intentions, but at least they claimed they didn't plan to kill her-and there was no reason for them to lie to him, he couldn't stop them, no, they were too powerful.
As they walked back inside the dojo, One turned to him and whispered quietly, "It would be unfortunate for Killa to lose such a faithful friend, please remember what we expect you to say. We will tell her the truth ourselves, when we are ready. Understood?"
What could he say? "Understood," he said grimly, then started pacing the floor waiting for her to appear from wherever she was. This was bad.
Killa brought him back to reality by saying "What the hell is that on your shirt? Blood? What happened?" She looked him up and down as she stepped back from him. He realized that she now had a few spots of blood on her shirt as well from the big hug he gave her. "What the hell happened to you? Jesus Randall!" Killa said as she saw the cuts on his neck and chest. "You need to have those bandaged and cleaned, God, those are fresh! Who cut you? Ewww, and now there's blood on me." She pulled him towards the bathroom, chastising him the whole way. One gave him a look as he passed that made it pretty clear he better come up with a plausible explanation, and quick.
"Who hurt you, are you ok? Take that shirt off, c'mon, let me see those. Back here, sit down." He peeled his shirt off and sat on the toilet as Killa got the first aid kit down. The cuts really weren't any big deal, hell, he'd done worse to himself falling off a bike.
"They're no big deal Killa, just a couple of cuts." Killa looked at him like he was nuts.
"These are knife cuts, a damn sharp knife judging by the bleeding. Care to explain?"
"Nope."
"Asshole."
"It's no big deal, I told you Killer. I got in a little bit of trouble but it's fine."
Killa sighed and shook her head. He knew she was familiar with his idea of a little bit of trouble. Once she visited him in the hospital-- he'd been shot a couple of times. When she walked in he was chatting up the nurse and acting like it was a vacation, not a near death experience.
He remembered what he told her when she cried to see him hurt, "Get used to it Killer. This is me, my life. Cry at my funeral. Today you should be happy to see me alive, yeah?"
"Yeah." She'd sobbed, then, "Randall, you can do something else, I wish"
"This is me Killer, you're going to have to deal."
And she did, but she didn't like it.
Now he understood how she must feel a lot of the time. He didn't like her new friends one bit. Plus, it looked like at least one of them wanted to be more than friends, and that worried him. Killa wasn't very predictable on what she thought was "safe."
That same damn girl that wouldn't even try marijuana because, as she said, "She didn't want to die early," had no problem with street racing. Who knew how she'd react to them? She was friends with him and she had at least a ballpark idea of what he did, so the twins' job might not bother her, or rather bother her enough to make her stop seeing them. She knew he hurt people, he could tell that from the way she'd not wanted him to help with Andy. Shit, who knew what she'd do?
Killa felt worried about Randall, this was nothing new though. "Randall, you sure you're ok?"
"Yep."
Killa sighed, the cuts were really minor, just scratches really, but had bled like hell. Whatever he got cut with, it must have been really, really sharp-it had been near impossible to get the cuts to stop trickling blood. Finally she had stuck a bandage on them and said, "Good enough," then glared at Randall who just raised his eyebrows at her as if to say, "And what is new about this?"
Damn him.
"Ok, Killer, ok, I get your point. I'll be careful." Randall grinned a charmingly lopsided grin.
Killa frowned to show how much she believed that, then her expression softened as she realized that she should just enjoy her friend while she had him, he wasn't going to change.
"Ok, so what's this job you have for me?" Killa packed the first aide kit back in the cabinet and cleaned up the bathroom. Glancing briefly in the mirror, she decided to wait until she got home to wash out the few spots of blood on her jacket. It wasn't the first time she'd washed blood out of it, but usually it was her blood, not someone else's.
"Same as usual, run some documents to the courthouse. Leave'em there. Come back."
"Where to?" Killa asked as they walked back into the dojo.
"City courthouse in Brink." Randall reached into his back pocket for his wallet. "Damn, left my wallet in the car. Walk me out?"
"Sure." Killa said with a smile.
Where were One and Two? Killa looked around the dojo, but they were nowhere in sight. Hmm, maybe they went back upstairs? Killa thought about Two-- the kissing had been amazing, but not too smart. He was her teacher; she'd have to cut that crap out. Mmmm, but her lips still tingled from where he kissed her, oh, and when he took his jacket off, god, he was so beautiful. And he'd tasted so good. Liz would tell her to go for it, this was college, have a summer fling, it doesn't have to be serious. Maybe she would, teacher or not.
Most guys bored her within a couple of weeks, or she ended up liking them as friends. The twins were weird; everything about them was weird, including the pretentious way they spoke. We instead of I, who said that except for royals and stuck up English profs? But they weren't really stuck up, not exactly. And their way of speaking, acting, moving, being, seemed somehow natural to them, not a pretense. Wonder what their parents were like? Killa laughed to herself as she tried to picture a family reunion where everyone was unable or unwilling to use the first person.
There they were, standing by that motorcycle, that motorcycle, she knew that motorcycle! Killa's eyes widened as she saw Andy's motorcycle sitting there shining with a big red bow on it. She turned to Randall who was grinning from ear to ear, then back to the motorcycle, then hugged Randall who grinned even bigger, if that was possible.
"Oh my God, Randall, is that what I think it is?"
Killa ran over to the motorcycle grinning and laughing like a little kid. She ran her hands over the sides of it, looked and saw the big box next to it that said "Killer," and picked it up.
"God, this is kind of heavy? What did you do Randall?" Killa paused and looked thoughtful, "Randall, Andy is"
"Andy is still alive, unfortunately."
"Alive with all his parts still working and attached?" Killa asked.
"Most of them." Randall watched her grimace, then grinned and said, "No, he is alive and mostly well. I, umm, well, here's some photos."
"Do I really want to look at those?" Killa looked nervous.
"Definitely." Randall grinned as he handed them to her.
"Oh, Oh, Randall. I can't believe you. This is beautiful. No, I mean it is so wrong."
The photos were of Andy's back. On said back was now a full back tattoo that said "KILLER'S L'IL GIRLY" in purple block letters. Around this saying were brilliantly colored tattoos of cartoon ponies grazing on cartoon grass, cute little girls holding bunnies, posies or kittens, dancing bears, big eyed puppies; it was beautiful.
Randall watched her face cycle through a variety of reactions to finally settle at glee, pure undisguised glee.
"I knew you'd be pissed if he 'had an accident' so I had to come up with another punishment." Randall felt proud of this one; it had really taken some thought.
Killa just shook her had and smiled.
"And I made him pay for it. And that present. All of it." "Randall, I love you. Can I keep these? How long did that tattoo take? That must've hurt? How'd you get him to do it?" Killa couldn't take her eyes off the pic.
Randall glanced over at the twins when she said the "I love you." They were walking closer, looks of curiosity on their faces. Maybe they hadn't heard her, or figured out they really were just friends, then he saw Two glare at him and narrow his eyes. Great.
"Sure you can keep'em. But if you lose them, the pics are on the net anyway. published them under their ink art section." Randall paused to savor the absolutely evil smile that spread across Killa face.
"It took a few days, ten hour sessions each day. Yeah, it hurt, but not as much as I wanted it to." Killa grimaced again.
"Hey, he tried to kill you Killer, he deserved worse." And, actually he got worse than she was seeing. Randall didn't cause permanent damage, but he'd hit Andy so hard he'd broken his jaw in a couple of pieces, then broke his collar bone for good measure. It had made watching the tattooing a lot more fun since he refused let Andy go to the hospital until the tattoo was done.
Killa was shaking the box, trying to figure out what was in it like a kid at Christmas. One picked up the pics and Two looked over his shoulder. Both smirked and laughed evilly when they got to the full pic of the whole tattoo.
"Nicely done Randall. A good revenge given the constraints." One said with genuine relish in his voice.
"Umm, yes, shows real creativity." Two added, smiling terrifyingly.
"Thanks." Randall was still uneasy, but at least they liked his work.
Killa was still shaking the box. That girl.
"Open it already Killer."
"Ok, ok." Killa tore into the paper, then pulled open the box. First she pulled out a new helmet, a beautiful shiny black racing helmet. Then reached back in and pulled out a racing jacket, then a pair of pants and finally a pair of black racing boots. She held up the jacket, it had flames sewn into the sleeve so it looked like the wearer's arms were on fire. Turning over the jacket, she squealed in shock.
"Oh God, Randall. That is soooo tacky. I love it." She gave him a look that made his heart skip a beat, made him briefly reconsider why exactly he was "just her friend," then grinned from ear to ear. A guy could go a while on a look with that much love in it.
On the back of the jacket was "Killer" in blood red Gothic letters, on top of the name was a silver halo, underneath it were more flames. It looked like the name was rising out of an incredibly hot spot of hell. Killa picked up the pants and checked them out. They had matching flames licking up the legs.
"I'll be back!" Killa said and ran inside with the Bates leathers and boots. Randall heard her calling Kadoya to come out and see. Whew, the twins would leave him alone once the old man was outside, although that old man made him uncomfortable too.
One smirked at him as he leaned against the wall of the building; Two was still glaring. If they expected him to break the silence, they'd be disappointed. Randall crossed his arms across his chest and waited.
"Just a friend?" Two hissed, then padded closer.
"Yep. A good friend. Like a brother." Curious, the guy paused and looked thoughtful, then smiled a terrifying smile and held out his hand.
"Yes, we would do the same for our brother. We understand." Ok, whatever you say mister, Randall thought then took the twin's hand and shook it. Two then made sure to demonstrate how much stronger he was by squeezing Randall's hand until it hurt.
Jeez, these guys didn't miss a single opportunity to intimidate, Randall thought with a bit of admiration.
Kadoya came out of the dojo followed by Killa. Wow. He'd got the leathers just right. Both twins mouths opened, then snapped shut, looks of what could only be lust on their faces before they schooled their features back to impassiveness. So both wanted her. Great.
"I look like a slut Randall! These are way, way too tight! You know what size I need, this is a size smaller than I ever get. I look like a ho." Killa paused. "And why did you include a leather tank top, ewww, no way I'm wearing that." She held the offending garment out at arms length. "I'll keep my t-shirt thank you."
"You wear your clothes way too loose, and you can't afford the wind resistance. Those old leathers fit you before you started working out so much-- they look dumb now," Randall said, which was the truth. "Hell, Killer, the wind makes the pants snap. They're racing leathers, not lounging leathers."
"Yeah, but why'd you have them accent the," Killa nodded at her chest, "I mean that creates resistance too."
"I just had them cut some room for what you already had. Psychological warfare," Randall said, then grinned.
One looked her up and down and said, "We like it. It looks very flattering on you." "Yes, very flattering," Two agreed emphasizing the very with a smirk.
Killa blushed, so she liked them too. Great. More to worry about, just what he needed.
"Kadoya?" Killa said and turned to him.
"We can see the merits of the garment for racing." Kadoya's voice held the tiniest hint of laughter. "And it does not make you look like a "ho," more an attractive young woman."
Time to change the subject. "Ok, now you owe me. I want to hear about that race of yours. C'mon, give," Randall said.
One and Two watched with interest as Killa relayed the story. They were no longer concerned with Randall, it was clear he was a brother figure to her. Good, she could use a friend as useful as Randall. One had downloaded the conversation with Randall as Two had shared his experiences with Killa. Two could feel his brother's mind lingering over her trailing kisses up his torso, relishing the sensations for himself. And that suit, it made her look delicious. He wanted to touch it, then take it off her slowly. Make her ask him to take it off her, make her say please. Randall was right, that suit was psychological warfare; he could barely concentrate on what she was saying.
"God, Randall it was so cool. At first I was scared, a little. I got there early and went over the track slow to make sure it was clear, you couldn't see a darn thing between flashes of lightening and the wind was howling like something out of a crazy horror movie." Her face became rapt as she began to remember.
"Then Andy showed up, and the race began."
"How fast did you get up to?"
"205, but I had to slow down some on the switchbacks."
"Jesus Killer, you're lucky you're still alive."
"Yeah. I felt the back tire skid a couple of times, then the wind caught me and slammed me a couple of times." Her face took on a curiously distant look, like she was seeing something she couldn't quite understand. One saw Kadoya watching her intently.
"Then you had the vision again," Kadoya said quietly.
Killa still had that faraway look "Once, only once. The wind caught me as I was rounding a corner into a switchback and spun the rear of the bike out over the ocean. I could feel the tire spinning on nothing, the bike starting to tilt into the fall, then the wind slammed me back onto the road and I barely managed to not wreck."
Killa paused, then smiled from ear to ear, "It was incredible. I could hear the ocean, I could feel the rain pattering on my skin-- it felt like time slowed down to nothing."
One listened carefully, it sounded like she was describing the experience of slowing the Matrix.
"Adrenalin junkie," Randall said.
Killa just grinned, then looked at Kadoya.
"The vision started, but I was able to control it. I ended up feeling more focused, more in control. The techniques really work Kadoya, thanks."
"It would be good if you avoided situations that required their use." Kadoya said firmly.
Killa looked shame faced and hung her head a little.
"But you are here, and it is a very nice bike." Kadoya said with smile, then walked back inside the dojo.
One was amused to see Killa shoot a look at Kadoya's retreating back that could be roughly read as "Old fart." She then ran over to the bike, jumped on and started motioning to Randall to give her the keys.
"No, not at all. It's just a bit of blood, no, it'll heal just fine."
She then heard One's voice, it sounded weird, a bit threatening?
"We understand one another, we presume?"
"Yes, I told you, that's it."
As she rounded the landing, she saw Randall standing with his back to her facing One. One's face looked cold, there was an unpleasant smirk playing about his lips. He seemed different from the One she'd interacted with, almost a different person. What had they been talking about?
As she was thinking this, Two noticed the look on her face and thought to his brother "We are disturbing Killa," and sent One an image of her expression. One adjusted the expression of his face to appear friendlier.
Killa watched One for a second and noticed a new expression come over his face, he looked sort of nauseous. Maybe he just didn't feel well and Randall had said something to upset him, like that would be a surprise. Randall was about as friendly as a pit viper to nearly everyone.
"Randall!" He spun around and grinned to see her, then looked appraisingly at Two behind her, especially since Two deliberately picked that moment to circle Killa's waist with his arm. She looked irritated, brushed Two's arm away, then ran down the remaining steps to Randall and jumped in his arms.
Randall caught her and spun her around. This was their regular greeting, but after One had interrogated him, he felt a little nervous about it. Plus Two was openly glaring at him now, the corners of his mouth so far down they all but touched his chin. Where did she meet these two? They were about as bad as they came from what he had heard. Normally he didn't worry about other people, but Killa was an exception. She was too good, too nice for her own safety. It could get her in trouble if she met the wrong people, and these guys were about as wrong as people got.
He was in a real bind. One made it very clear to him what would happen if he revealed their real job to Killa. He was to tell her, if she asked, that they were bodyguards for a wealthy businessman. This was true, but he'd also heard other, darker, rumors of what they did, of some of their extra duties for the Merovingian. He hadn't heard any stories about them abusing women, that was true, but he hadn't asked either. Christ, Killa could pick'em.
Also, One made it equally clear that Killa was not to be involved in any of Randall's illegal ventures, as if he would do that to her. He was proud of her, proud to see her doing something with her life, plus, he knew he owed her for all her help in the past. He'd never say it, but Killa was the only real family he had. He wanted her as far away as possible from anything that could hurt her, and those guys could definitely hurt her.
And there'd be nothing he could do.
He thought about the exchange he had with One outside the dojo. The cuts on his neck and chest came from the questions he'd insisted on asking One, starting with, "What is Killa to you?"
One grabbed him by the hair, yanked him off the ground where he'd tripped and fell, then held a straight razor to his throat and said, "We do not answer your questions, you answer ours."
Randall was scared, sure, but he doubted the man would kill him with Killa upstairs. "She's my friend. You want me to be quiet, I want to know--is she for the Merovingian?"
He'd heard stories of women fetched for the Merovingain. True, none of them were killed, but they were usually a little off after the encounter, and some were worse. He'd heard about a couple of suicides that occurred in the restaurant, and one at club Hel, all women who received the Merovingian's attentions. Killa wasn't going to go that way, no fing way.
"She is NOT for the Merovingian," the man ground out as the razor pressed a thin cut into Randall's throat, "and she no longer any of YOUR concern." So, the guy thought he was Killa's boyfriend. Great.
"Killa is my friend, my best friend, my only friend. That's all." Randall paused and worked up his courage, "If she is not for the Merovingain, then why are you here?"
"We are not the Merovingain's pimps. We do not fetch women for the Merovingian, nor do we participate in his 'activities.' You are aware of what it is we do." One drew a thin line a few inches down Randall's chest. Great, another t-shirt ruined. This was one of his favorites too.
"You are bodyguards, and"
"You know what we do," One hissed.
Randall always thought that cliché about blood running cold was stupid, how could your blood run cold? But he felt goose bumps stand up on his skin, and his blood, it felt cold. They were here to kill Killa. Today was going to be the day he died.
After the thin cut down Randall's chest, One held the razor at his side. That gave Randall some room to maneuver; he elbowed One at the same time as he grabbed for his gun. The assassin let him go, but gave him another little cut on his belly as he spun away and escaped.
Randall pulled his Kimber .45 out of its holster and aimed it at One's head. "Answer the fing question. You're here to kill her? What?"
Twirling his razor, One smirked at Randall, obviously not the least bit afraid. Randall remembered the other rumors, rumors of super-human abilities. Well, a bullet would stop most anything, f the rumors.
"We teach here. She interests us." A pause, then One continued, "This is unusual behavior for you. We are familiar with your reputation, she must be important to you."
"I already said she's my friend. She helped me out in high school, I told you, she tutored me, that's all."
"You risk your life for a friendly tutor?" One sneered.
"I didn't like the shave you tried to give me. I prefer to keep the skin on my neck." Randall eyed him for a second, then continued, "So, tell me this, you"
One didn't let him finish. With a bored wave of his hand he said, "Not that you could interfere, but no, we do not plan to harm her. She is not a target. She will not be a target. You will do nothing to endanger her either. You will do nothing to interfere with us. You will tell her nothing about our lives with the Merovingian, except that we are bodyguards."
Then he shut his razor, put it in his pocket and lazily sneered, "Put down your weapon, this IS a public street."
Slipping his gun back into the holster, Randall felt like he had just passed a test of some kind. He still had mixed feelings about the twins' intentions, but at least they claimed they didn't plan to kill her-and there was no reason for them to lie to him, he couldn't stop them, no, they were too powerful.
As they walked back inside the dojo, One turned to him and whispered quietly, "It would be unfortunate for Killa to lose such a faithful friend, please remember what we expect you to say. We will tell her the truth ourselves, when we are ready. Understood?"
What could he say? "Understood," he said grimly, then started pacing the floor waiting for her to appear from wherever she was. This was bad.
Killa brought him back to reality by saying "What the hell is that on your shirt? Blood? What happened?" She looked him up and down as she stepped back from him. He realized that she now had a few spots of blood on her shirt as well from the big hug he gave her. "What the hell happened to you? Jesus Randall!" Killa said as she saw the cuts on his neck and chest. "You need to have those bandaged and cleaned, God, those are fresh! Who cut you? Ewww, and now there's blood on me." She pulled him towards the bathroom, chastising him the whole way. One gave him a look as he passed that made it pretty clear he better come up with a plausible explanation, and quick.
"Who hurt you, are you ok? Take that shirt off, c'mon, let me see those. Back here, sit down." He peeled his shirt off and sat on the toilet as Killa got the first aid kit down. The cuts really weren't any big deal, hell, he'd done worse to himself falling off a bike.
"They're no big deal Killa, just a couple of cuts." Killa looked at him like he was nuts.
"These are knife cuts, a damn sharp knife judging by the bleeding. Care to explain?"
"Nope."
"Asshole."
"It's no big deal, I told you Killer. I got in a little bit of trouble but it's fine."
Killa sighed and shook her head. He knew she was familiar with his idea of a little bit of trouble. Once she visited him in the hospital-- he'd been shot a couple of times. When she walked in he was chatting up the nurse and acting like it was a vacation, not a near death experience.
He remembered what he told her when she cried to see him hurt, "Get used to it Killer. This is me, my life. Cry at my funeral. Today you should be happy to see me alive, yeah?"
"Yeah." She'd sobbed, then, "Randall, you can do something else, I wish"
"This is me Killer, you're going to have to deal."
And she did, but she didn't like it.
Now he understood how she must feel a lot of the time. He didn't like her new friends one bit. Plus, it looked like at least one of them wanted to be more than friends, and that worried him. Killa wasn't very predictable on what she thought was "safe."
That same damn girl that wouldn't even try marijuana because, as she said, "She didn't want to die early," had no problem with street racing. Who knew how she'd react to them? She was friends with him and she had at least a ballpark idea of what he did, so the twins' job might not bother her, or rather bother her enough to make her stop seeing them. She knew he hurt people, he could tell that from the way she'd not wanted him to help with Andy. Shit, who knew what she'd do?
Killa felt worried about Randall, this was nothing new though. "Randall, you sure you're ok?"
"Yep."
Killa sighed, the cuts were really minor, just scratches really, but had bled like hell. Whatever he got cut with, it must have been really, really sharp-it had been near impossible to get the cuts to stop trickling blood. Finally she had stuck a bandage on them and said, "Good enough," then glared at Randall who just raised his eyebrows at her as if to say, "And what is new about this?"
Damn him.
"Ok, Killer, ok, I get your point. I'll be careful." Randall grinned a charmingly lopsided grin.
Killa frowned to show how much she believed that, then her expression softened as she realized that she should just enjoy her friend while she had him, he wasn't going to change.
"Ok, so what's this job you have for me?" Killa packed the first aide kit back in the cabinet and cleaned up the bathroom. Glancing briefly in the mirror, she decided to wait until she got home to wash out the few spots of blood on her jacket. It wasn't the first time she'd washed blood out of it, but usually it was her blood, not someone else's.
"Same as usual, run some documents to the courthouse. Leave'em there. Come back."
"Where to?" Killa asked as they walked back into the dojo.
"City courthouse in Brink." Randall reached into his back pocket for his wallet. "Damn, left my wallet in the car. Walk me out?"
"Sure." Killa said with a smile.
Where were One and Two? Killa looked around the dojo, but they were nowhere in sight. Hmm, maybe they went back upstairs? Killa thought about Two-- the kissing had been amazing, but not too smart. He was her teacher; she'd have to cut that crap out. Mmmm, but her lips still tingled from where he kissed her, oh, and when he took his jacket off, god, he was so beautiful. And he'd tasted so good. Liz would tell her to go for it, this was college, have a summer fling, it doesn't have to be serious. Maybe she would, teacher or not.
Most guys bored her within a couple of weeks, or she ended up liking them as friends. The twins were weird; everything about them was weird, including the pretentious way they spoke. We instead of I, who said that except for royals and stuck up English profs? But they weren't really stuck up, not exactly. And their way of speaking, acting, moving, being, seemed somehow natural to them, not a pretense. Wonder what their parents were like? Killa laughed to herself as she tried to picture a family reunion where everyone was unable or unwilling to use the first person.
There they were, standing by that motorcycle, that motorcycle, she knew that motorcycle! Killa's eyes widened as she saw Andy's motorcycle sitting there shining with a big red bow on it. She turned to Randall who was grinning from ear to ear, then back to the motorcycle, then hugged Randall who grinned even bigger, if that was possible.
"Oh my God, Randall, is that what I think it is?"
Killa ran over to the motorcycle grinning and laughing like a little kid. She ran her hands over the sides of it, looked and saw the big box next to it that said "Killer," and picked it up.
"God, this is kind of heavy? What did you do Randall?" Killa paused and looked thoughtful, "Randall, Andy is"
"Andy is still alive, unfortunately."
"Alive with all his parts still working and attached?" Killa asked.
"Most of them." Randall watched her grimace, then grinned and said, "No, he is alive and mostly well. I, umm, well, here's some photos."
"Do I really want to look at those?" Killa looked nervous.
"Definitely." Randall grinned as he handed them to her.
"Oh, Oh, Randall. I can't believe you. This is beautiful. No, I mean it is so wrong."
The photos were of Andy's back. On said back was now a full back tattoo that said "KILLER'S L'IL GIRLY" in purple block letters. Around this saying were brilliantly colored tattoos of cartoon ponies grazing on cartoon grass, cute little girls holding bunnies, posies or kittens, dancing bears, big eyed puppies; it was beautiful.
Randall watched her face cycle through a variety of reactions to finally settle at glee, pure undisguised glee.
"I knew you'd be pissed if he 'had an accident' so I had to come up with another punishment." Randall felt proud of this one; it had really taken some thought.
Killa just shook her had and smiled.
"And I made him pay for it. And that present. All of it." "Randall, I love you. Can I keep these? How long did that tattoo take? That must've hurt? How'd you get him to do it?" Killa couldn't take her eyes off the pic.
Randall glanced over at the twins when she said the "I love you." They were walking closer, looks of curiosity on their faces. Maybe they hadn't heard her, or figured out they really were just friends, then he saw Two glare at him and narrow his eyes. Great.
"Sure you can keep'em. But if you lose them, the pics are on the net anyway. published them under their ink art section." Randall paused to savor the absolutely evil smile that spread across Killa face.
"It took a few days, ten hour sessions each day. Yeah, it hurt, but not as much as I wanted it to." Killa grimaced again.
"Hey, he tried to kill you Killer, he deserved worse." And, actually he got worse than she was seeing. Randall didn't cause permanent damage, but he'd hit Andy so hard he'd broken his jaw in a couple of pieces, then broke his collar bone for good measure. It had made watching the tattooing a lot more fun since he refused let Andy go to the hospital until the tattoo was done.
Killa was shaking the box, trying to figure out what was in it like a kid at Christmas. One picked up the pics and Two looked over his shoulder. Both smirked and laughed evilly when they got to the full pic of the whole tattoo.
"Nicely done Randall. A good revenge given the constraints." One said with genuine relish in his voice.
"Umm, yes, shows real creativity." Two added, smiling terrifyingly.
"Thanks." Randall was still uneasy, but at least they liked his work.
Killa was still shaking the box. That girl.
"Open it already Killer."
"Ok, ok." Killa tore into the paper, then pulled open the box. First she pulled out a new helmet, a beautiful shiny black racing helmet. Then reached back in and pulled out a racing jacket, then a pair of pants and finally a pair of black racing boots. She held up the jacket, it had flames sewn into the sleeve so it looked like the wearer's arms were on fire. Turning over the jacket, she squealed in shock.
"Oh God, Randall. That is soooo tacky. I love it." She gave him a look that made his heart skip a beat, made him briefly reconsider why exactly he was "just her friend," then grinned from ear to ear. A guy could go a while on a look with that much love in it.
On the back of the jacket was "Killer" in blood red Gothic letters, on top of the name was a silver halo, underneath it were more flames. It looked like the name was rising out of an incredibly hot spot of hell. Killa picked up the pants and checked them out. They had matching flames licking up the legs.
"I'll be back!" Killa said and ran inside with the Bates leathers and boots. Randall heard her calling Kadoya to come out and see. Whew, the twins would leave him alone once the old man was outside, although that old man made him uncomfortable too.
One smirked at him as he leaned against the wall of the building; Two was still glaring. If they expected him to break the silence, they'd be disappointed. Randall crossed his arms across his chest and waited.
"Just a friend?" Two hissed, then padded closer.
"Yep. A good friend. Like a brother." Curious, the guy paused and looked thoughtful, then smiled a terrifying smile and held out his hand.
"Yes, we would do the same for our brother. We understand." Ok, whatever you say mister, Randall thought then took the twin's hand and shook it. Two then made sure to demonstrate how much stronger he was by squeezing Randall's hand until it hurt.
Jeez, these guys didn't miss a single opportunity to intimidate, Randall thought with a bit of admiration.
Kadoya came out of the dojo followed by Killa. Wow. He'd got the leathers just right. Both twins mouths opened, then snapped shut, looks of what could only be lust on their faces before they schooled their features back to impassiveness. So both wanted her. Great.
"I look like a slut Randall! These are way, way too tight! You know what size I need, this is a size smaller than I ever get. I look like a ho." Killa paused. "And why did you include a leather tank top, ewww, no way I'm wearing that." She held the offending garment out at arms length. "I'll keep my t-shirt thank you."
"You wear your clothes way too loose, and you can't afford the wind resistance. Those old leathers fit you before you started working out so much-- they look dumb now," Randall said, which was the truth. "Hell, Killer, the wind makes the pants snap. They're racing leathers, not lounging leathers."
"Yeah, but why'd you have them accent the," Killa nodded at her chest, "I mean that creates resistance too."
"I just had them cut some room for what you already had. Psychological warfare," Randall said, then grinned.
One looked her up and down and said, "We like it. It looks very flattering on you." "Yes, very flattering," Two agreed emphasizing the very with a smirk.
Killa blushed, so she liked them too. Great. More to worry about, just what he needed.
"Kadoya?" Killa said and turned to him.
"We can see the merits of the garment for racing." Kadoya's voice held the tiniest hint of laughter. "And it does not make you look like a "ho," more an attractive young woman."
Time to change the subject. "Ok, now you owe me. I want to hear about that race of yours. C'mon, give," Randall said.
One and Two watched with interest as Killa relayed the story. They were no longer concerned with Randall, it was clear he was a brother figure to her. Good, she could use a friend as useful as Randall. One had downloaded the conversation with Randall as Two had shared his experiences with Killa. Two could feel his brother's mind lingering over her trailing kisses up his torso, relishing the sensations for himself. And that suit, it made her look delicious. He wanted to touch it, then take it off her slowly. Make her ask him to take it off her, make her say please. Randall was right, that suit was psychological warfare; he could barely concentrate on what she was saying.
"God, Randall it was so cool. At first I was scared, a little. I got there early and went over the track slow to make sure it was clear, you couldn't see a darn thing between flashes of lightening and the wind was howling like something out of a crazy horror movie." Her face became rapt as she began to remember.
"Then Andy showed up, and the race began."
"How fast did you get up to?"
"205, but I had to slow down some on the switchbacks."
"Jesus Killer, you're lucky you're still alive."
"Yeah. I felt the back tire skid a couple of times, then the wind caught me and slammed me a couple of times." Her face took on a curiously distant look, like she was seeing something she couldn't quite understand. One saw Kadoya watching her intently.
"Then you had the vision again," Kadoya said quietly.
Killa still had that faraway look "Once, only once. The wind caught me as I was rounding a corner into a switchback and spun the rear of the bike out over the ocean. I could feel the tire spinning on nothing, the bike starting to tilt into the fall, then the wind slammed me back onto the road and I barely managed to not wreck."
Killa paused, then smiled from ear to ear, "It was incredible. I could hear the ocean, I could feel the rain pattering on my skin-- it felt like time slowed down to nothing."
One listened carefully, it sounded like she was describing the experience of slowing the Matrix.
"Adrenalin junkie," Randall said.
Killa just grinned, then looked at Kadoya.
"The vision started, but I was able to control it. I ended up feeling more focused, more in control. The techniques really work Kadoya, thanks."
"It would be good if you avoided situations that required their use." Kadoya said firmly.
Killa looked shame faced and hung her head a little.
"But you are here, and it is a very nice bike." Kadoya said with smile, then walked back inside the dojo.
One was amused to see Killa shoot a look at Kadoya's retreating back that could be roughly read as "Old fart." She then ran over to the bike, jumped on and started motioning to Randall to give her the keys.