Southern Texas as always, was hot and dusty. Beatrix's target was a shady pawn shop owner. He'd been laundering money for a client of Bill's and the client was somewhat unhappy with the man's services....suspecting him of perhaps dipping a little bit too much into the pot himself. The "Stop N Cash" pawn shop was equally as gritty and dusty as the buildings surrounding it. A large bull dog sat out in front...looking not entirely friendly. A holey screen door sat flapping in the wind behind the resting animal. There were crappy electronics, run down instruments and even a few cheap swords in the windows. It didn't appear the shop was much of a hot spot around here, most likely the reason why the owner was finding other ways to make money.
Upon her arrival, nobody seemed to take much notice of the tall blonde. Beatrix sauntered into the pawn shop clad in a pair of tight blue jeans and a zipped up black leather jacket, on her feet were a pair of sandals which took away from the whole bad ass affect, not that she was going for it to begin with. Strapped to her back was that stylish katana blade that Bill had given her all those months ago. She loved when she could strut around with the thing and not be given a second glance. Such was the situation in the pawn shop. She made a casual stride down the aisle until she approached the counter. She waited patiently in line as an older man of Hispanic origin paid for a few things. It didn't take long until it was the tall blonde's turn at the register. She looked over to the man before her; late forties, a suave mustache, masculine but not overly so, and he wore a white t-shirt with numerous stains. He gave her a mere glance and returned to a note pad he had been reviewing. "Yeah?"
Beatrix effortlessly snatched the handle behind her back and with a soft swoosh she projected her weapon. The cashier looked up obviously not alarmed by it. "I'd like an estimate on this, please," she said as she held the sword out horizontal to the counter, the blade glinting off the light from the overhead lamps.
The cashier pushed away the note pad he had been intently viewing and now viewed the blade before him. He put a hand to his chin and made a 'hmm' noise. Once through he turned to call over his shoulder, "Hey Gary! Come take a look at this one, will ya!"
Gary was younger than his coworker. A short stocky man in his early thirties with a head of spiky dark hair and a thin face. He was chewing on a wad of gum. He approached the counter from the back room, wearing a jean jacket and a pair of cargo pants. "Yeah...yeah...Paul...I'm coming..." he mumbled and let himself in behind the counter area. He glanced briefly at Beatrix, and then looked down at the sword that was splayed out on the counter.
He leaned over and began inspecting it closer, after a moment he let out a low whistle, "Damn....that's a nice blade....this was made in Japan....no bullshit there...for sure on that......" he ran a finger lightly over the blade, cutting himself slightly, "Fuck....." he pulled his finger back. He glanced up at Beatrix again with beady grey eyes and flipped the blade over revealing the inscription, he gave Paul a side smile, and then looked up at the tall blonde in amusement, "I gotcha lady," he winked, "I've seen allot of women pawn jewelry and shit but I can't say I've ever seen a woman pawn a sword." He went back to inspecting the weapon, "Well....whatever he did to ya....this guy coulda bought a nice car for what it cost to have this made...." He stood up straight, thumbs in his pockets, "But...around here alls we can give ya is 250 bucks for that piece of work....it's all we can give ya, take it or leave it." He shrugged, playing up the cool pawn shop negotiation act. "Mind if I see the scabbard?" he added after a moment, smacking loudly on his gum.
The tall blonde watched her target, Gary with a passive demeanor. The guy looked like an asshole but she really had nothing against the guy. Well, his obnoxious gum chewing was starting to irk her. She tilted her chin down, reached up a hand, and slipped the scabbard off her back. Beatrix hated watching anyone handle her weapons. She was partial to them. But, she had to suck it up and allow it since this was all to go along with her plan of action. She settled it down next to the sword on the counter. It was wooden, black, finely decorated a coiling of snakes, and various line designs. All in all it was a beautiful piece of work. It was no Hattori Hanzo blade nor scabbard but it was very nice and did the dirty assignments it was required to do. She narrowed her blue eyes on the two items. "250, aye?" She pursed her lips as if in deep thought. "She's not even a year old," referring to the sword. "And you want to give me 250 shitty dollars? I think we can do better gentlemen."
Gary gave a bemused little chuckle at Beatix's counter offer, still chewing at his gum. Ignoring her momentarily, he picked up the shiny black scabbard and inspected it, running a finger along the silver encrusted designs. "Real nice.....them is some badass lookin' snakes eh Paul? Looks sorta like some of them black mamba snakes to me." The other man nodded a grinning approval. After a moment, Gary set the scabbard back down next to the blade. He leaned on the counter, fixing Beatrix with a firm expression, "Look....lady...I aint gunna lie to ya....this sword musta cost at the very least....ten grand...it's a real nice piece of work. I aint seen a sword like it, not in person at least. But this aint fuckin' Beverly Hills alright? And year old or not, it don't make any difference," He waved a hand around the dusty run down store, "We just aint got that kinda money layin' around. Now, I said I'd offer ya 250...that's damn good money. Hell, Paul and I ain't paid 250 for anything in quite sometime...that's a real good offer around these parts and if you were smart you'd take it up." He put his thumbs through the loops of his pants, "Hell...your a real looker...so I'll give ya 300....but that's as high as I can go." Another smack of the gum, "So..whaddya say honey?"
Beatrix stared at Gary for a few moments before a hand swooped down and plucked the sword from the counter. She held the blade up vertical to her body as if to give it a final inspection before closing the deal. Blue eyes stared at her reflection that shimmered off the steel blade. If she was a greedy assed bitch she'd take the money first then kill him. But, she wasn't greedy. Hell, she had more money then these assholes could make in ten life times. Even if she was still being withheld her pay for the remaining three months she certainly wasn't desperate for loose change.
A smirk tugged at the edges of her lips. "Alright gentlemen..." She began but didn't finish, as with one quick maneuver Beatrix thrust the tip of the blade threw Gary's obnoxious pink bubble, into his mouth, and ceased the sharp tip at the back of his throat. In those mere seconds her 'pawn shopper' demeanor had fallen to take on that daunting killer glint. She glanced to Paul. "I changed my mind. I don't want to sell it." And with that she thrust the blade clean through to come out the back of Gary's head. The blood that exploded gave the shop a brand new essence.
And that was the incredibly grisly end of Gary, the owner of the "Stop n Cash" pawn shop. Nobody would loose too much sleep over his passing, not even his girlfriend...whom he'd had a tendency to hit when he was drunk. Besides, she'd been out with some other guy when Gary's basically headless body slumped to the ground.
Paul screamed, all attempt to cling onto his manliness long gone. He scrambled behind the counter shaking, as he curled himself into a fetal position. There was blood everywhere: the ceiling, the windows, dripping off the dusty merchandise. It looked like a scene from a chainsaw slasher movie......but it had all been done with the clean slice and pull of a samurai sword in the hands of the Black Mamba.
Paul was whimpering now, "Oh.....shit...." he rocked back and forth, "Jesus....lady.........don't kill me....please....I've got three kids......all boys....oh fuck.....don't do it..I don't wanna die...." his eyes were fixated on the side of the counter like a frightened deer in headlights. "Gary was a dick.....he had it comin'.....I know all about what he was doin'....he was dippin' into embezzled money, I saw him do it. Not me though," he shook his head violently, "I ain't done nothin'........don't kill me....oh god......"
Beatrix flicked her blade and let the staining of blood spray off in various directions. "I," she began coolly. "Was not sent to kill you." She hadn't flinched at all at the mutilated body of her target. Although that was one of her more gruesome killings, she kept a demeanor that was overly cool the entire time. She grabbed a rag off the edge of the counter and wiped it clean across the steel blade to get rid of what she couldn't spray off. Delicate long fingers picked up the scabbard and replaced her weapon of destruction, a soft ring admitted as she sealed it. "Have a nice day," the tall blonde warrior said as she swung her sword across her back, turned on her heels, and exited the bloody pawn shop.
Eight o'clock....sharp.
There was a rather loud roar of an engine outside of Beatrix's apartment...then it was shut off. A few moments later her doorbell rang. When Beatrix answered the door....if was, of course, Bill.
Bill was dressed to the hilt.....in a very Bill-ish way. So much so, it's worth explaining. On his feet, he wore a pair of dark grey most definitely real snakeskin cowboy boots. He was wearing a pair of black slim cut slacks, a Native American beaded belt topped off with a moderately small silver belt buckle encrusted with turquoise stones and featuring a pair of crossed pistols in the center. If asked about the make of the guns, he'd tell you they were "Colt 35 specials...of course." Tucked in, he was wearing a dark red, almost blood red, silk button up shirt, with two black Chinese characters embroidered on it, one on each side of the collar....these translated to Love and Death. Over this he was wearing an extremely expensive but well worn looking black leather coat, cut in a dress blazer style. The buttons on it were all the bottom caps off of 22 cal bullets. On his right hand he was sporting a massive turquoise ring...much larger than the one he had before, it must have been a recent acquisition. Under his shirt, which he still couldn't manage to button all the way up, was a long hanging silver necklace with a small arrowhead on it. His hair was tied back and to top it all off he had put a manly silver hoop into his pierced ear, something which he hadn't done in sometime.....the left ear naturally. Oh sure, he'd thought about wearing something a little more orthodox...but then he had come to realize the strange but amazing reality that it was Beatrix he was taking out, and decided to be nothing more than himself. Bill had always been and would always be "a dude"....on top of being "the man" and well....the Snake Charmer of course. This perhaps, somewhat over the top outfit was the culmination of those titles. A few feet behind him was parked a cherry red classic 1975 Harley Davidson Electra Glide Classic.....Special Edition. The bike was a large two seater and of course had all chrome stylings. Bill was certainly more of a car man than a bike man, but every now and then he got the bug to take his bike out...and besides, it was always a damn fun rush.
He stood there grinning at Beatrix, the bike behind him....the picture of every daughter's mother's worst nightmare.
"Oh my fucking God," was all Beatrix could say when she came out of the apartment. And she thought she had dressed 'peculiar' for the 'date'. She was wearing something that wasn't quite as unorthodox as what Bill was wearing. She was sporting a gypsy style skirt that flowed down to her ankles and was a pale purple coloring. Around her slimming waist was a taut camel shaded belt with strings hanging loose against the skirt. Fitting to her upper half was what appeared to be a ruffled tube-top, well almost a tube top if it weren't for the thin straps on her broad shoulders. Around her neck, taking the eye away from the amount of skin she was revealing was a necklace. The necklace was a red string decorated with oblong ivory and circular gold shimmering beads. She pulled blonde locks into a half pony tail with a pale yellow ribbon tied into a bow. On her feet to finish it off was a pair of black sandals decorated with an assortment of Indian style beadings. All in all she hadn't dressed as extravagantly as Bill. Not even close.
Her momentary fluster of shock dissipated and she took on a haughty appearance as she leaned against the open door frame. Blue eyes looked him over once from head to toe. She held a sarcastically tight smile. "Dammit Bill..." She trailed off. Beatrix had no clue what to say about his outfit. Hell, it was really funny and it was even funnier that he could pull it off without looking too stupid. She shook her head slowly and pushed from the door, closing it behind her.
Blue eyes settled on the Harley, it gave her something else to stare agog at. She tilted her blonde head to the side. "Nice bike." A glance to 'the biker'. "But I think it'd be cooler in yellow."
Bill could tell Beatrix was just more than a little shocked at his appearance. He wasn't exactly sure if that was a good thing or not....but he wasn't one to care much what people thought of him. He thought he was pretty cool....and that was enough. He gave her a wicked grin, eyebrows raised....as if to say "Yeah? So?" He liked dressing in this sort of stuff. Beatrix looked beautiful......as always. And her outfit was absolutely perfect for her, flattering, cute and yet oh so "Beatrix." He leaned forward as she closed the door and gave her a genial little kiss on the cheek, "You look very nice..." he said softly. At her comment about his bike, he shook his head, "Nah, yellow wouldn't fit this kind of bike....now maybe one of those new yellow Honda crotch rocket things....but not this beauty," he laid a hand on the front tire well. "This is all about the cherry red....."
He had a feeling she would wear a skirt, and he'd had second thoughts about bringing the bike...but luckily her skirt was very long and it wouldn't be much of a problem. He walked around to the back of the bike, removed the secondary black helmet and handed it to her. "Here ya go Kiddo....." he was glad that Beatrix wasn't too much of a priss when it came to her hair. Many women didn't like the idea of crushing their hair inside of a helmet. Putting on his own helmet, Bill climbed onto the bike and waited for Beatrix to do the same before he kicked on the engine. No electric start here, oh no....he was all about the classic kick start. He turned to her with the engine roaring and flipped up the visor on his helmet, "Hang on." his eyes creased with amusement, and he flipped down the visor. Pulling his hand back on the accelerator, the bike flew out of the apartment parking lot and began the short forty minute commute to San Diego.
Beatrix liked bikes. She didn't love them but she did like them as she liked any other motor vehicle. But taking a bike gave her a rush of adrenaline that was never something pass up. She wasn't sure if Bill had chosen to take this way of transportation because it was cool and went with his whole outfit or if he had other intentions for it. Of course he did. Beatrix had to hold onto something as they zoomed down the highway and that something was locking her arms around Bill's torso and leaning her body in close against his.
She peered over Bill's shoulder through the visor of her helmet and watched as the road passed by. Forty minutes was a long drive to be stuck on a bike. Luckily Beatrix wasn't much of a complainer. Finally they reached the San Diego area. It was bustling with people as expected on a Friday evening. No one gave the 'couple' a second glance as they stopped at one or two traffic lights. They fit in quite nicely with the atmosphere.
"Where's the restaurant?" She questioned loud enough to be heard over the engine.
Ah, but of course...Bill had multiple reasons for taking his bike. One of them of course being the fact that Beatrix had to cling onto him for dear life as he flew down the interstate at eighty miles an hour. But, he was glad when they did finally reach downtown San Diego. The Friday nightlife was already in full swing and there were people everywhere, and traffic was pretty hectic as people ran across the busy streets, laughing and having a good time. The crowd was mixed, but generally of the younger variety. A Harley with two people on it simply melted in. Bill turned his head slightly to address Beatrix's question, as they sat idle at a red light. "It's just up around the corner here," he said in a slightly loud tone of voice, as the engine even when idle, was still fairly loud. Finally, the light turned green and within a few minutes they pulled up in front of a small-ish looking restaurant. There was valet parking out in front and a very sophisticated sign on the front read "Amare a la Sera" in saucy looking letters.
The valet, a young man with dark hair and sideburns gave Bill and Beatrix a rather strange look as Bill pulled the bike up to the valet station. Bill removed his helmet and climbed off the bike, tossing the helmet and his keys at the young man, "Have fun kid." The "kid" gawked momentarily at Beatrix as she climbed off the bike, and glancing back at Bill, he nodded, "No problem Mister." Once everything was situated there, Bill motioned to the door, and the two of them went inside.
The restaurant was of the expensive super romantic sort. It was very dark inside, the only lighting being from candlelight and very soft overhead lighting scattered around delicately. The tables were all extremely small booths with white tablecloths. It was fairly crowded, with extremely cozy looking couples taking up most of the booths. In the corner, there was an intimate looking dance floor where a small band played romantic cover songs. A few couples were dancing, very much into one another. The sound level was fairly low, with the band's music a non obtrusive soundtrack. Bill and Beatrix were greeted very kindly by a host, who took Bill's reservation and led them over to a table. He offered to take Bill's jacket, but Bill declined the offer. On their way to the table, Bill leaned in and whispered in Beatrix's ear, a hand on the small of her back, "So...it's a little over the top....but indulge me...." Once seated, their host informed them that their waiter would be by shortly and left them with a pleasant smile. It was obvious the staff here was very good at giving their guests discretion.
Beatrix was wearing a contented smile as she took a seat across from Bill at the rounded table. The restaurant was a very odd change of pace but not unwelcome. After the day Beatrix had she could use the whole tranquil and calming atmosphere. She was a little weary to the fact that Bill refused to hand over his jacket. Her guesses being, he had a pistol concealed beneath. But she hadn't felt anything there and the last thing she needed was something to ruin her hopes for enjoyable night. She picked up the menu and concealed her face behind it as she skimmed over the contents. Two minutes passed and Beatrix poked her head out from behind the menu. "I think I'm going to get the sun dried tomato glazed chicken over angel hair pasta." Slender brows raised a fraction. "What appeals to you?"
Bill had already decided on his choice of dinner plates and was onto looking over the wine list. He'd removed his jacket, but it was sitting very closely beside him. "Hrm...good choice...." he glanced at Beatrix over the wine list, "I'm going with the full lobster plate myself. They get some quite delicious lobster here, can't pass that up." Just then their waiter, a short thin balding man with a small mustache named Tony, came by and took their orders. On top of everything else, Bill ordered a bottle of 1981 Merlot. The wine list had no prices, so one could only imagine. Bill certainly wasn't out to impress Beatrix because, really what more could he do, after all the things she'd seen him do over the years? But he did like good wine now and then, and this was a perfect opportunity to indulge.
He gave Beatrix a smirk, "But....you're not overdoing it on the wine this time Kiddo, I know better now." He leaned back against the plush booth seating, taking a long glance around the restaurant. Even on a "date", one couldn't ignore the wary instincts of a killer. It was really just a habit and Bill quickly came back to look at Beatrix, reminding himself where he was.
"Not to mix business with pleasure," he said softly, picking up his silverware and beginning to unroll the white napkin, "But how did that pawn shop thing go? I'm assuming it was a fairly easy assignment...."
Beatrix was still holding a smirk on her angelic features from the wine comment. She was only going to have one glass and that was only to be courteous to Bill's generous wine selection. "Oh, yes, quite easy," she said quietly. Usually when he asked about assignments in public areas she kept quiet and discrete but here she could keep a moderate tone level and be a tad less cautious.
"The target, Gary, nice guy but I could see why someone would desire to hit him off." She picked up her own napkin and began to unfold it to reveal the silverware. "I came in asking for an estimate on my sword. Can you believe those fuckers were gonna give me 250 and maybe 300 for my good looks." She shook her head in disgust as she placed her fork on the plate. "I played 'pawn shopper' until I had enough." Her fingers were now laced around the stake knife. "So, I thrust," she made the motion with the knife, which could just as easily have been used for the bloody task, "...my blade into his mouth and out the other side." A satisfactory grin tugged her lips and blue eyes sparkled. "It was messy." She would have elaborated more on that part but at this moment the waiter came over with two wine glasses, and the Merlot.
Bill listened to Beatrix in fascination; he always loved hearing accounts of her kills. To him, it was enthralling. No doubt it was far from any sort of conversation that was going on at any of the other tables, but then again, it was doubtful that two of the world's deadliest killers were sitting together at any of the other tables either. He raised his eyebrows, momentarily, reaching for the wine bottle, "Two hundred fifty.....maybe...three hundred for your good looks?" He repeated with disbelief. He nearly choked, looking appalled, "You couldn't buy the fucking leather on the hilt of that sword for three hundred bucks." He wasn't about to spill the beans on how much it did cost, but it was pretty easy to guess. He shook his head, "Ignorant assholes...." Once he'd gotten over that shock, he chuckled, "Goddmamn Kiddo.....that's brutal...." he picked up the wine bottle, "I like it," he grinned at her with a sharkish smile. Using the supplied bottle opener, he popped open the wine bottle with expert ease and poured both of them full glasses.
The wine was very good....worth the price in Bill's opinion, which was much easier to say when you could afford it. Soon after, their food arrived. Which, looked equally as good....displayed fancifully, but in fairly good quantities for an expensive restaurant. Using his hands in the traditional manner, Bill cracked apart his lobster with somewhat disturbing but very clean effectiveness.
The conversation turned casual and amiable. The two of them could generally fall into this easy type of conversation when things were good between them...which at the moment, they most certainly were. In a place like this, it was easy to become oblivious to everybody else around you but the person sitting across from you....after all that was really the intention of the whole setting. Beatrix was being smart and was limiting herself to her one glass of wine.....leaving Bill with the task of drinking the rest himself. He could handle it just fine, but after five glasses he was feeling a little on the giddy side.....giddy in that Bill sort of sense that is.
Beatrix looked utterly stunning awash in the dim candlelight, and it was most likely the wine....but she had this somewhat fuzzy glow around her.....like he was watching her after dropping acid....a sensation Bill was admittedly rather familiar with. Her prominent but smooth collar bones cast shadows against her bare shoulders...tied up blonde hair a hazy gold frame around her beautifully angelic but deadly face....large blue eyes reflecting the flickering orange flame below her. She was talking to him, but he wasn't entirely sure what she was saying at the moment.
Bill blinked, leaning heavily on his elbow against the wall behind the booth. Their empty plates were pushed aside on the table, the nearly empty bottle of wine in front of him. "Do you want to order any dessert?" He asked suddenly, with just the slightest slur.
Beatrix was settled back in her seat, arms daintily folded over her chest in her slouched position. She felt full which was always a good thing, give or take the feeling that her stomach was bulging, which it wasn't. Blue eyes stoically drifted over to the man across from her. He was obviously a little off center and she was much more on center. Even so, she was overly happy. The night was turning out nicely and nothing had ruined it but Beatrix didn't keep her hopes up. The life of a killer was unpredictable, even for a killer whom was trying to be 'normal'.
"I'll pass," she replied lightly. Dessert sounded tempting but she was full and she didn't want to over do it. At this remark Bill waved down the waiter and retrieved the check. Beatrix turned her attention back to Bill as the waiter retreated. "If you're not going to allow me to pay for dinner then you can at least allow me to drive home." She fixed him with a mock glare. "Because there is no way in hell I am getting on a bike with you when you've just drank over half a fucking bottle of wine."
Bill smirked, as he regarded the check for a brief moment and reached around to retrieve his wallet, "I'm fine....." he stated, sounding overly confident, "...I just need to walk around a bit and burn it off..." He found the credit card he was looking for and placed it on the check. "Besides," he turned to her, "...we're not done yet....." a flash of a smile. Bill always had a plan, sometimes if was obvious, sometimes it wasn't.
The waiter took Bill's card and within five minutes they were out of the restaurant. The night air had cooled a bit, but it was still very pleasant outside. There were people out walking in droves happy, talking, some of them drunk. It was a typical Friday night downtown. Some shops were still open, cars stopped, stuck in downtown traffic.
Leaving their transportation still with the valet, the two of them took a stroll around the block...just like the numerous other couples around them. It was a so completely "normal", it was almost strange. Here, amongst the crowd...nobody seemed to neither care nor give a damn. There were no raised eyebrows, questions, rivalries, jealousies, anger or advice given to them for their own "good."
Bill watched the people pass by as he walked, a placid smile on his face. His arm was draped over Beatrix's shoulders. He surely wasn't drunk, but there was no missing the slight sluggishness of his movements.
Beatrix was enjoying the normalcy of their walk. She weaved her arm around his torso and strolled contently beside him. Blue eyes wandered about the area aimlessly with a stray glance in his direction every once and again. Her gaze sparked an immense fondness and affection. She blinked and turned her eyes to watch as a few 'lovey dovey' couples strolled by. Those that were all over one another and making out on benches. It'd be 'too' normal if Beatrix and Bill went and acted like that. She liked to show a public display of affection but only to those people she knew personally.
Both killers had been fairly quiet and they had walked at least half the distance around the block. For once Beatrix was content with the silence. She was happy to let it linger and enjoy the night life. Of course, Bill took notice of the large amount of PDA's going on.....he wasn't a big fan. Oh sure, he was definitely not a shy one for showing affection. But that thing....well, it just wasn't his sort of deal. He'd done that about thirty years ago maybe.....but not now. He didn't need to show off to others, which was really what that whole thing was about anyways. He knew Beatrix looked good, and he knew just about any man on that block would love to be in his shoes but one didn't need to gloat about it. The mere fact in itself was enough for him.
He didn't feel like talking much, which Beatrix seemed to agree upon and they walked like that for a good twenty minutes. Finally, rounding the block, Bill paused, "Ok....I think I'm alright now....." He gave Beatrix a warm look, taking her hand and walked back to the valet. He loved the way she kept looking at him, nobody ever looked at him like that nowadays. At the moment, he honestly didn't know what to say to her when she did that, so he simply returned the look.
Back on the motorcycle, they began winding back through downtown. Bill seemed to know exactly where he was going. And very gradually the nice yuppie downtown neighborhood gave away to a much shadier side of town. The cars became older, more run down. The people shabbier, angrier looking. Chain link fences and lawn chairs became more frequent than cute storefronts. The businesses tended to be bars, convenience stores and questionable looking eating establishments. It wasn't long before they parked in front of a large building, that looked somewhat like a bowling alley. A dirty sign read in front read, "The Burroughs." Getting off the bike, Bill spotted two kids...boys maybe ten years old, hanging out on the curb. They of course were instantly interested in the bike and its two occupants. It wasn't something you usually saw around these parts.
"Hey, you two," Bill addressed the boys, as he removed his helmet.
"Yeah....." one said, as they sauntered up, both wearing dirty jeans and wife beater shirts way too big for their skinny chests, and thin arms.
"You wanna make some money?"
One kid, blonde with buzzed hair, smirked, "Well...fuck yeah...of course we do...," his eyes narrowed, "What sorta shit do we have to do ta get it?"
"Nothing much," Bill pulled a hundred dollar bill out of wallet, holding it out in front of the kid's face, "All you two have to do is sit here and bullshit like your already doing. Watch this bike....if anybody touches it...you come inside and let me know right away. If either of you touch it," he glared down at the two boys, "And I'll know.....believe me.....then...I'll break both hands on each of you. And neither of you will be getting any action from yourself for at least three months But, if nothing happens to it by the time my lady friend and I leave...then," he flicked the money, "One for each of you."
Leave it to Bill to threaten children on a date, not to mention is such a sadistic but effective way. He knew what it was like to be kids like this....he knew what worked and didn't work. The boys exchanged glances, silently weighing the pros and cons of this deal. "Well?" Bill raised an eyebrow.
"Alright man....." the blonde kid replied, trying to look tough, "We've got your ass covered."
"Good," Bill nodded...letting the kids see the hundred bucks for a second longer and then putting it away. "Come on Kiddo," he put a hand on Beatrix's back and the two of them entered the building.
"The Burroughs" as it turns out was a local hangout. It was a bit difficult to describe. It was a bowling alley....an old 70's one at that. But it was also an arcade and billiards hall. As high brow as the Italian restaurant had been, this place was equally low brow. It was retro, outdated and the kind of place where you could just have fun and not have to care much about who saw you. You paid an entrance fee and then paid a nickel per game....cheap. The games in the arcade were completely outdated, in that totally funny sort of way....most of them from the 1980's. The crowd consisted mostly of young Hispanic males and a plethora of high school girls and the type of guys who picked up on high school girls. Spanish was being spoken more than English and the music of Los Lobos was playing on the speaker system. Bill and Beatrix received a few strange looks. The Hispanic males, who obviously ran the place, quickly decided they either didn't want to mess with Bill or thought he was cool....for an old guy and left them alone. Although, there were definite gawks in Beatrix's direction. At the counter, Bill proved he could speak "street" Spanish just as good as the kid next to him wearing his jeans belted below his ass...after that, them being left alone was a sure bet.
Armed with a bag full of nickels. Bill gloated Beatrix on. "Alright....I bet I can kick your ass at both ski ball and air hockey." he gave her a mischievous grin.
Beatrix put on a tight smirk and raised knowing eye brows at the change bag. She interoperated the challenge, weighed the ups and downs, and made a decision. "You're on."
The two killers, acting normal couple, decided on playing air hockey first since all the ski ball machines were taken. This was so stupid, so silly, but Beatrix was loving every minute of it. She'd more than happily add this night to her 'Pandora's Box' of fonder memories.
Within ten minutes the game was tied 2 to 3. Both proved to be worthy at such a children's game. Beatrix recalled playing a few times in her younger years and Bill obviously the same. The tall blonde on the far right side of the rectangular arena, was guarding her goal with an evident amount of hostility. Even during a children's game that involved competition it was hard to loose that killer instinct. She was leaned over, one hand clenched to the edge of the arena wall, and the other gripped tight to her 'weapon'. She had taken off her leather jacket as it had grown chilly out with the cooler fall breeze and it was hot inside with all the congregated bodies. Lips were pursed in concentration and blue eyes darted around as the air puck flew in every which direction. Beatrix was determined to break this tie. Bill had been continually mocking her throughout, in friendly competition of course. She thrust her hand forward, hand disk connecting with the puck, not realizing how hard she hit it, the puck bounced against the wall, and in almost a cartoon fashion the puck bounced off the arena wall, whizzed past Bill's head and hit the back of someone else's head from across the way.
The tall blonde blinked hard as the 'target' hotly turned around and sneered in her direction, clutching tight to the puck that had struck him. Beatrix flashed an apologetic smile. All she received was the finger and he walked away. She furrowed her slender brows. "I don't think we're going to get the puck back."
Bill hadn't played air hockey since he was a teenager. There had been a really shitty one at the bar that he and his friends used to get into all the time. He'd been pretty good way back then......now...apparently his skills weren't quite up to snuff. Like Beatrix, all it took was a silly game, and he was all intense and competitive....killer instincts kicking in. Mocking Beatrix was the best part really, but she was hard to distract. He'd already jammed his fingers a few times and in-between being totally serious, he started chuckling...finding this all very amusing. But when Beatrix had gotten a little too intense and hit some guy in the back of the head with the puck, Bill couldn't help but start really laughing. After all, it had been pretty damn funny.
"Oh shit...." Bill leaned over the table, laughing. "Yeah....something tells me that's a permanent loss.....I was going to beat you anyways, and you simply couldn't handle the shame." he smirked at her, picking up his jacket, which he had removed sometime ago. "Come on...I see a open ski ball lane."
Bill was awful at ski ball, of course...he'd talked himself up at being great at it the whole twenty seconds it took for them to get over there. For a game that really was dependent on control, he really sucked at it. "FUCK!" He threw another ball, a tad too violently up the alley....the ball smacking loudly into the plastic covering. Laughing, he waved it way, "Ok...your turn Kiddo...."
This time around, Bill had more fun pestering Beatrix as she tried to genuinely concentrate. Standing behind her, and speaking in his "narrator" voice, he made a move by move commentary, "......here she Kiddo...in her biggest throw to date....oh, what a shame...just missed it......ok...here she goes again....Just look at that expression of stern concentration her face. Ohh! So close! But, alas she is undaunted as she tries for yet another roll.....oh my....what a tense moment this is...."
Beatrix didn't seem to find this quite as amusing as Bill did.
Still holding the hard ball in one hand she turned from the ski ball lane and sauntered over to Bill. Her expression was firm and serious but her blue hues hinted mild amusement. She extended a long white finger and jabbed him in the chest. "Shut. Up."
She turned on her heels in an all out haughty demeanor and returned to her last shot in the game. The ball slid down the row and missed by a few inches. She cursed loudly and came back to him. "Fuck, we should play something else," she sneered lightly and picked up the bottle of water they had grabbed from the vending machine. She wasn't giving up, she was just aggravated. She took a few swallows and capped it. "A game like.." Blue eyes skimmed. "Like that one." She grabbed his hand and led him without waiting for an answer.
It was a very old version of "Street Fighter" or a cheap imitation. She grinned slyly. "I'm sure I can kick you ass virtually just as well as I can in reality."
Once Bill realized this was a "fighting" game, he grinned evilly. "Oh...hell no...." Bill pumped about ten nickels into the game consul, "Your going down Kiddo......big time...." Actually, Bill had never played the game in his entire life; he'd watched some Japanese kids play it once though. His days consisted more of Pong and Asteroids...and even then, he hadn't been all that young.
Picking the most badass looking dude Bill could find on the roster of fighters, he attempted to figure out the controls. "Oh...of course, you pick a giiiirrrrl....." he teased the tall blonde at his side, and bumped her with his shoulders. "I'm.....so going to kick your ass...." he sneered in a quiet sadistic tone, attempting to sound more confident than he actually was. Within a few seconds of the "match", Bill was already irritated with the lack of "real" martial arts in the game. "What the hell is this?" He slammed on the buttons like a true amateur, "That's not a kick!! What the fuck.....?" He wretched the joystick, glaring at the screen, "You call that a hold?" He sneered in disbelief, "Looks like she's trying to fuck him, not kick his ass!" Needless to say, Beatrix was winning so far. "The controls are too slow...." Bill murmured the age old male video game excuse.
"Ha!" Beatrix cried as the screen flickered with a vibrant display of 'Player Two: Victor and then proceeded to round three. She grinned in a sadistic manner as she attempted to kick Bill's virtual ass again. She glanced over at his overly flustered and irritated expression. She pursed her lips to sway away a smirk. "This game is all about cheap assed, not real martial arts," she clarified as she pressed a button performing a smack down that was rather pathetic. This got Bill's energy bar down to half.
"Cheap assed martial arts?" Bill hissed, still trying desperately to cling onto his "virtual life" "Where's the honor in that?" Obviously, Bill simply couldn't grasp the finer points of "Street Fighter" tactics.
"Baby, you suck," she stated-matter-of-factly. "I'll finish you off nice and clean and I promise I won't tell a soul."
Her matter of factly stated "Baby, you suck," made him both furious and yet at the same time start to laugh with amusement. He lost a good amount of concentration with this, and his quickly shrinking life bar signified that. "Nice and clean?" He yelled in an exasperated tone, "Your trapping me in the corner and repeatedly kicking my face in with that....that...." he searched for the right word for the move, ".....pathetic....quick.....kick...thing...." He leaned forward, in deep concentration attempting to find some way out of this dilemma, undaunted even in the final throngs of death. "Oh...no.....no way!" He threw his hands up, as his character died in dramatic slow motion. "Oh Jesus, and I even get a lame death." Frowning, Bill stepped back from the consul...glaring death into the cheesy anime graphics decorating the top of the consul. "Fighting game...my ass..." he grumbled to himself.
A young kid wearing baggy jeans and a backwards cap....probably about sixteen....who apparently had been watching them for sometime, spoke up from a few feet away, "Dude....you just gotta fess up....she kicked your ass." Bill turned and stared at the kid, who just shrugged and sauntered off down the aisle.
Turning back to Beatrix, Bill sneered with amusement, "Well, your character looked like a real slut."
"Yes," Beatrix canted her head at him. "But at least it was a slut who could kick your ass." Bill had on a very disgruntled face as he seemed to find the whole concept of loosing a virtual fight very unpleasant. She decided to stop rubbing it in and placed a quick kiss to his lips. Her hand lingered against his cheek and her lips formed an 'o' shape. "Why don't we head home. I don't think you could handle me beating you again."
Bill scowled, but it was softened a little by Beatrix's still somewhat gloating affection. "Very well....." he grumbled with the hint of smirk. She had a good point there. Bill didn't like losing all that much, even if it was on some stupid arcade game.
When they got outside, the two kids were still out there...hanging around the motorcycle; they were smoking this time, which was always a little shocking coming from young kids. Bill inspected the bike, mainly just for show. It didn't appear to have been moved an inch. Turning to the ruffians, he pulled out two hundred dollar bills, "Well....you two...it appears you will both live to love yourselves another day." They snatched the money greedily from his fingers, with wide smiles. He didn't even bother telling them to 'spend it wisely' he knew better....Bill knew what it was like. Most likely they'd go and spend it on crap...cigarettes...candy...whatever illegal things they could get their grubby little hands on. "Hey...thanks man!" They yelled and ran off to spend their newly earned fortunes.
Restarting the motorcycle, they both donned their helmets and pulled out of the parking lot. The drive back actually took a little less time, due to the fact there were basically no cars out on the highway. In fact, it was quite breathtaking, at least Bill thought so and he had a hard time concentrating on the road. It was pure desert the entire way back and above this flat plane, a clear dark blue sky was blanketed with a countless number of stars. Away from the city lights, it was so much easier to see all of them clearly. The lone vehicle on the straight road, they flew across this expanse of nothingness. Bill came to realize that this was something of a "no man's land". Behind them was San Diego, the place that all of them went to be with "normal" people....to do what normal people did. Ahead of them was their reality.....an unreal underground world of violence. They could cross that desert and pretend to be normal people all they wanted, but the truth was....what lied ahead was their real world...there wasn't much escape from that. It was in that stretch of desert that lay between where the two worlds collided.
Well, again...Bill was philosophizing as he was apt to do now and then. He was very aware of the dichotomy of these two worlds and was aware of the difficulties to keep them separate and to deal with that harsh reality. He, himself was perfectly comfortable in his own world...in fact, he preferred it. In that underground world of violence, he was on top and he knew every dark corner of it. Back in the "normal" world.....he admitted to himself that he often felt a little lost now and then. But he knew that some of the others that worked for him had had difficulties in the past....dealing with crossing the desert...so to speak.
Bill pulled the motorcycle around into the parking lot of Beatrix's apartment, and getting off the bike he removed his helmet watching Beatrix do the same. Running a hand through his hair, he gave her a sidelong glance, "I wasn't sure where you wanted to end up tonight....so I figured I should try here first."
Beatrix was shaking out her head in an attempt to get rid of her 'helmet' hair. She turned back to him with a sincere smile on her face. "I really enjoyed tonight," she breathed softly. It was obvious she was telling the truth. It'd be stupid to not tell the truth about something as 'special' as a 'date'. For the first time in a very long time, she had a normal night out. Even if it was a very not normal man she went out with, that didn't mean she couldn't pretend he was normal. As far fetched as it seemed, it worked and she was ecstatic. But, now it was back to reality. She was a hard assed bitch and he was a murdering bastard.
She leaned in and gave him a rather passionate and affectionate good-night kiss. She broke away and idly leaned her forehead against his. "Thank you." And then she solemnly stepped back, turned around, and went inside.