"I'm going to put him on my mantel," Beatrix stated-matter-of-factly. The two killers had now returned to the hotel room. The shades were drawn indicating that night time had long since rolled around. They had just recently returned from a lovely dinner at a quaint restaurant. The food was as always wonderful but not as filling as the other night's. Which in this case as a good thing.
Well, Beatrix was referring to putting on her mantel a ceramic replica of one of the skull heads they had seen on their tour. She had been deciding in the gift shop for a good ten minutes between the skull and a t-shirt that read; I survived the Catacombs and I'm not Dead. The t-shirt was cute but it seemed a tad too cliché especially when Beatrix planned to wear it around her coworkers. That was a bad idea and Bill seemed to inform her of this. It made her decision easier to just buy the skull.
She was sitting cross legged on the edge of the bed staring across the way at the skull on top of the dresser. Her slender brows narrowed. "Or should I put him on my bed side table?"
Bill gazed intently at the ceramic skull from his sitting position on the floor, his back up against the side of the bed, bare feet crossed in front of him. He looked stoic, as if he was taking this whole skull placement very seriously.
"Well....that depends on whom you want to see it," he replied, "If you put him on your mantel more people are likely to see it. If you put him on your bedside table then a more select group will be given the viewing honors." Somewhere along the way Beatrix had decided the ceramic skull was a "he", and Bill was inclined to agree....it was a rather manly looking skull. He was glad she hadn't bought the shirt...it was cute, but it just didn't seem wise to own with Beatrix in her current predicament with the rest of the
DiVA's. Elle might take it too seriously and decide that Beatrix shouldn't have survived the Catacombs.
Bill wasn't going to buy anything, he wasn't big on gift shop stuff, but then he'd spotted a set of skull face cufflinks and decided he had to have them...even if they were a little cheesy. After all, he owned a number of borderline over the top cheesy pieces of clothing attire and seemed to have no problem wearing them.
He rubbed his chin, "Hrm...it's a tough choice Kiddo," he said dramatically, glancing up at her over his shoulder. "I'd say a very important decision, one you should give some serious thought to...."
Beatrix glanced down to him and then back up at her daunting decision. She leaned back letting flat palms behind her support her weight as blue eyes narrowed in on the skull. She really did like her skull and she had wanted Bill to get a matching one but when he pointed out the cufflinks she immediately insisted he buy them. Actually Bea wanted him to buy the t-shirt that read; Don't try me, you may end up in the catacombs. But Bill reminded her that he wasn't a t-shirt kind of guy and she was once again inclined to agree. The whole array of shirts with cheesy sayings was immensely amusing such as the shirt that read; I love my catacomb, 'When I die I want to be put in the catacomb, I went to the catacombs and all I got was this lousy t-shirt'.
Now after their escapade in the catacombs Beatrix had to figure out the appropriate place for her souvenir. She began to take in what Bill said about whom she wanted to view the skull. This brought her to the conclusion that if she put it in the bedroom only she and most likely Bill would see it. Then she moved on to further thoughts of the skull viewing her. It was a cool skull but those hallow eyes staring at her while she slept was a tad unsettling.
"He'll go on the mantel," she voiced a good ten minutes later. "That way he can keep guard over the apartment."
Bill had been sitting quietly the entire time Beatrix had been making this weighty decision. He had slipped into something of a meditation state at some point and opened his eyes when she finally made her choice.
"Good decision," he said softly with a similar smile, "You never know what sort of dirty old bastards might try to break into your apartment." He chuckled, but quickly became mellow again.
He let his head rest further against the side of the bed. "I think that was my favorite thing we've seen thus far," he remarked, "That's going to be hard to top....I don't even think the Bastille will be half as cool as that was." Indeed, Bill had seen a lot of things in his lifetime, many of them quite cool, but the catacombs were by far one of the coolest. Not only that, but being there with Beatrix was what really made it. Then again, doing even the most mundane things with her made them something else.
"Too bad you and Elle aren't on better terms, I think she was the only person living or dead who could really have appreciated the matching skull lighter, lipstick and garter set." He sure as hell wasn't going to buy it for her, she'd have taken it the completely wrong way.
Beatrix nodded slowly in agreement. When she first saw the set she was laughing out loud about it and how Elle would have loved it but afterwards it wasn't as funny. She slid down onto her stomach, elbows bent on the bed as open palms supported her chin. Blue eyes stared down idly at Bill. "Yes, it's too bad I'm not on better terms with any one," these words came out with more of a bitter after taste than expected.
She rolled over onto her back; her head settling close to Bill's that was leaning against the edge of the bed from his place on the floor. Locks of blonde hair spilt over the sides as she settled her hands over her stomach. "Besides," she added in a lighter tone. "Budd wouldn't take to the lipstick and certainly not the garter set."
Bill chuckled, "Perhaps not....but Budd has his own little twisted side...you never know with him..." he glanced at her nearby face with a sly smile. He didn't address Beatrix's 'not so good terms with anyone', because it would only serve to bring her down...and he didn't want to do that. She was already well aware of her ill favored status within the DiVA's. Then again, Bill more than favored her, and so he would like to think that tipped the scale a little more to the positive side of things.
He leaned the side of his head against hers, "When we were younger..Budd and I...Budd being significantly younger," he smirked, "...we used to pull some nasty pranks on each other. As we got older..these pranks became more twisted. I remember one...I started doing this to Budd when he was pretty young...and eventually he caught on, we'd find the vilest thing we could get our hands on...a snake, scorpion, huge beetle...something nasty and preferably poisonous...and put it somewhere unexpected. The usual places got old, ya know..under the covers, under the pillow, in shoes...so we had to get creative. The best I ever got Budd," he chuckled, "..I was visiting...Budd must have been...sixteen or so...and I knew he always kept a stack of dirty magazines on the top of the toilet. So, I hid a Sunburst Tarantula under the magazines. Those things will just sit there, almost hibernating...until you disturb them. So, I nestled the little guy under the magazines.....and no less than an hour later," he laughed, "Budd got it good....right on the hand. Goddamn, he was pissed off at me...took him awhile to get over that one." He fell silent for a moment, thinking, and then continued on, "Another one, we dubbed 'Find Our Fathers'," he paused, raising his eyebrow at Beatrix, "You are aware Budd and I are in fact half brothers?" There was a common misconception that Bill and Budd were full brothers, but the coincidence of that was highly unlikely..seeing that their mother, a woman of...not so high morals, would fuck the same bastard again after twenty years. It was fathomable, but highly unlikely and thus the two brothers had come to the inevitable conclusion that they in fact had two different fathers. It was no good trying to get that information from their mother...who'd had Bill at the tender age of fifteen. Bill suddenly remembered Beatrix telling him about her trying to find her father. "This in mind," Bill continued, "...and knowing full well we'd never actually find our fathers, nor did we really want to....we'd go out, usually a little drunk...Budd usually very drunk, and scour every bar and sleazy joint in the vicinity looking for old bastards that we thought were good suspects for our paternity. Then, we'd follow them around for a bit....and then go beat the shit out of them in some back parking lot. The contest was to see who could be the craftiest in their attack." He paused in thought, "It was pretty fucked up...we only did it a few times. But..we were both far less.....reasonable than we are now." A debatable comment. "It was really just a stupid excuse to be violent. And I don't think Budd would go for that now." Another long pause, "Then..of course there was always shooting stuff....I used to be able to talk Budd into standing there with bottles perched on his hat...which I would then proceed to shot off..and quite accurately I must say," he chuckled, "He got sick of that one real fast...got tired of having to replace his hats....," he smirked,"...seeing as how I wasn't always on target."
He suddenly grew quite serious, glancing at Beatrix once again, "It doesn't always seem like it Kiddo but Budd and I have had some good times together." He fell silent, another one of his not so enlightening nor poetic stories finished, but it served it's purpose.
"I'd be concerned if you and Budd never had any good times together," she commented after the silence had lingered for long enough. Beatrix had her theories that Bill and Budd were half brothers but by now and considering how well she knew each of them it was plain common sense. There was too much of an age gap for Bill's mother to even remember where she first fucked and certainly not who it was with. Such were the reasons Bill and Budd could be drastically the same and drastically different.
She liked Budd in that brotherly-sister way but nothing beyond that. She was thankful she still had those terms with him but sometimes she wondered if it was just for Bill's sake. Part of it had to be.
But, going back to Bill's retelling of the past stirred up memories for Beatrix. She never had a sibling; hell her mother had trouble raising one kid so another was out of the question. She wanted to contradict Bill on the fact he went looking for his father when some time back he contradicted her on the same subject but she didn't. Instead she brought up something entirely different.
"I never had a sibling or a friend to shoot things with," she mused quietly remaining in her current position. "I was self taught." Of course Bill knew this. Basically everything she knew when she met him she had received from no one but herself or that was supposedly the case. "There was this one guy," Beatrix started again in a softer, lighter tone. "My mother had been dating him for a month, that was a record in her book," a small smirk twisted her lips but it was short lived. "This guy, Phil I think his name was…he was a…American-Japanese-wanna-be. Did the whole kimono, tried to grow a beard, I think he was trying to go for Pai-Mei's look." She paused, collecting her thoughts. "He owned a katana and he caught me looking at it one night…Well, he saw my obvious fascination with the weapon and posed to teach me a few tricks." She didn't mention before he showed her those tricks some 'child abuse' was involved for touching the sword to begin with. "Phil hung around for another two months before my mother got sick of him. He forgot his sword." That smirk came back as she nestled her head closer to the side of Bill's. She wasn't sure why she told him that. Perhaps to be fair in the whole, retelling of past life events or it could have been to the fact that she had told Bill was strictly self-taught when that was a lie. Perhaps to show him that she wasn't remarkable and had a little help along the way.
Bill listened to Beatrix's story in attentive silence, glad that she felt the need to supply her own "memory" to the mix. This guy, "Phil" sounded a little on the creepy side, but Bill was familiar with the whole, white man pretending to be Asian thing, since he'd been accused of that one more than enough himself.
But, what she said made sense...and it explained some things. "I always wondered where you learned those tricks," he said softly when she'd finished. "You were a little sloppy, but I knew you must have learned something from somewhere...before I came along." Indeed, Beatrix had already a good basis for sword fighting that went beyond imitating old Zatuichi movies in the living room when he'd stumbled upon her. He'd never really questioned it, since it had proved so useful in her training, but there was always that lingering question of her actually self teaching herself or not. Strange, how this small push early in her life had allowed her to have just that much of an advantage over her peers. Of course, in Bill's mind, it was more than that...he thought her simply more talented and intelligent than the rest. Despite her confession, he was still biased in her favor.
He chuckled, head still leaning against hers affectionately, "I can just see it....this gangly little blonde girl," he meant gangly in the most enduring of ways, "..in a shitty Texas trailer, hacking at things with some creep's abounded katana." There was a part of him that did feel pity for Beatrix when it came to her childhood. While his childhood was extremely far from normal, he'd didn't consider it to be bad....tough maybe, but not bad. But, on the other hand, if Beatrix' hadn't of had to go through all the shit that she did when she was younger..she'd wouldn't be the same person she is now..and that would have been a mighty shame for him...and herself of course. There was a good part of Bill who liked to think he'd "saved her" from whatever life she would have led had, he not intervened. He took pride in this thought, but he was also curious about the whole thing...looking back on it, and now he was in a personal position where he could pose those questions.
"Theoretically, if you could go back to that moment," he began, "..that moment when I first met you, and we had..our little chat...you know exactly what moment and what little chat I'm talking about, would you have turned me down?" He turned his head to look at her better, "Let's say...knowing all you know now..."
That isn't a fair question, was Beatrix's immediate thought to the theoretical question Bill pressed her with. She furrowed her brows and blue eyes cast away from him as a wave of distress and thought ran over her façade. Of course she remembered that moment they met and Bill posed her with the question that changed her life. It was a hard memory to keep locked away.
At first she thought to voice her thoughts on the question out loud but her thoughts could wonder and the last thing she wanted was to say the wrong thing. So, she thought in her head on how to answer.
When she first came to the decision to run away from her mother and her life the last thing she expected was to run into Bill and the next minute be trained to kill another human. That night, the night she met Bill she was younger and much bubblier and…young. When she was young she agreed to any challenges; whether it was a fist fight, which kid could make some other kid spew out blood the fastest, or throwing knifes at random targets, she was for it. Bill hinted to joining the DiVAS as a challenge and she took the challenge. Those years ago she didn't take into consideration the consequences for her actions nor did she realize the weight of her choice. Now, older she put thought into her choices as the choices she made usually pertained to life or death.
Back on subject, her mind was wondering. When it came down to the nitty-gritty she truly loved her job. She was a killer and it was her natural talent, what she was born to do. But she was also a natural woman with womanly needs. Deep down she wanted what any woman did; a house, a loving husband, and a child. She wanted a normal life.
Lids blinked hard over bright blue hues as they settled back on the man before her. Bill, sitting there and staring at her with a darkened love that no other man would supply her with. This was what she knew and grew to accept, this was her life and she was torn. Her chin canted down and she moistened her lips before speaking slowly and clearly, "No, I wouldn't have turned you down."
Bill had watched Beatrix go through the thoughts and emotions that his question brought out in her. She was easy for him to read now...at least, most of the time. Perhaps she thought him too unfair or prodding, but...nonetheless, he appreciated her willingness to take the time to give him a straight answer...fully self believed or not. He knew she had her moments of doubt, about him, about her choice to pursue the life of an assassin, but he also knew she had made the right choices, and that she was aware of this.
Beatrix had been a slightly different case than the others. It wasn't that she'd been harder to persuade to join the DiVA's, but she worked on a different level than the others. She was no Elle, he had had to be more than simply deviously charming to her to get her to work for him.
Bill knew that he and Beatrix had butted heads a number of times over her limits as a killer, and he'd said some rather cruel things to her along those lines, but..despite all her "weaknesses", she still remained the best he'd ever had...in more ways than one. There were things about her that irritated him, but they were also the things that made her who she was....he even, in some weird way, loved those things about her. He wasn't sure he'd change her just so she could rise to his "level", so to speak. Then again....well, it was a loaded issue.
He knew there were things that the life of a killer denied her...things that she desperately wanted. Things that he neither wanted nor missed. He was no husband, no father. He could, and would be many things for her....but he couldn't be those things. Yet, Bill liked to believe that she saw the sham of her striving for a life that she was too good for...that she would be wasting her natural born talents in. She was better than some shitty two bedroom one bath in the suburbs, she was better than some ho hum blue collar husband....she was better than the PTA and the ballet lessons, she was better than........normal. She was exceptional...and she deserved to lead the life of the elite and deadly. Bill simply couldn't see it any other way. He knew he was a bastard...but he was an exceptional bastard. He hoped that he could be to her like nobody ever had been, or ever would or could...again, she deserved no less.
Realizing he too was letting his mind wander, he came back to the moment, "That was hard for you to answer," he replied in a soft voice, dark eyes burning into hers. "But...thank you......" He wasn't exactly sure why hearing those words from her meant so much to him. It wasn't as if he lacked self assurance in what he'd done or felt some desperate need to have a second opinion on such matters, if anything Bill was a man who made choices about himself and others with frightening decisiveness. He rarely admitted a wrong, or regretted a deed. But, nevertheless....he was contented to know that Beatrix still held faith in her decision those five years ago.
He leaned forward a little and gave her a soft, rare genuinely sentimental kiss, "I must say...I agree with you," he said, pulling away, with the hint of a smirk, "and I also must also congratulate myself on my impeccable recruiting choices..." Alright, so every now and then he got a dud, but overall...he'd done pretty damn good.
This got a well natured laugh from Beatrix, which she used to the benefit of dragging herself out of that self-pitying recollection. The factor that Bill could be selfish was displayed accurately in his choice of words. Not only was Bill a bastard but he could be a selfish one. But, she didn't hold that against him because unlike most selfish people the key factor was self. When Bill was selfish some how in that bizarre twisted way it benefited not only himself but those around him. Usually Beatrix found she was benefited in more good then bad ways.
She was growing tired of craning her head downwards so she nonchalantly slipped off the bed and came to settle on the floor beside him. Her back was up against the bed and legs were bent to her chest. "Aye, I'll agree with you on that one," she said gently "You do you have quite an assortment of killers…You have Budd, whom although moronic is sly, devious, and cunning. Vernita, whom if you give her an edged weapon the most skilled will get cut. O-Ren is a skillful warrior and marksmen...Elle, she's fucking crazy…And then you have me." All of this said with a discrete smirk curving across her lips. "This twisted array of assassins is all because of your impeccable recruiting skills."
Bill displayed a somewhat smug smile. "I have my own methods of pick and choose...although, it's usually gut instinct." He found that generally those he choose in this method turned out to be his most successful projects. Others, such as Jeff...who were more slow burning tentative projects, often met not so successful fates. But, unfortunately, that "assassin at first sight" situation rarely happened and Bill was often forced to recruit in the slower tentative manner. That being said, none of those types remained in the DiVA's in the current lineup.
Bill looked at Beatrix, who was now sitting shoulder to shoulder with him, with a pensive expression. "Vernita's one of the best ladies I've ever seen with an edged weapon," of course...he didn't quantify that shit, but it was worth noting. "...Elle's a snake..." he said this with a fond smile, "...O-Ren.....," he paused, "...she has limitless drive, her and I go back sometime...needless to say, I'd had my eye on her for quite awhile." A somewhat vague pause, "And Budd....well, I've been training him longer than the anyone else. He certainly has his negative qualities, but he's one hell of a fighter....and, he's reliable." Bill fell silent for a moment. He could go on into much more depth about those who worked for him in a much more eloquent manner, but he preferred to leave some mystery to his position on those who worked for him. He'd never fully explain himself when it came to his recruiting decisions, it was part of the mystique of Bill. Somehow he'd gained this "sixth sense" when it came to choosing killers, perhaps it was just a lifetime of experience...perhaps it was more than that. Whatever it was, it allowed him to take one look at Elle, who at the moment was about to kill him, and know that she was working for the wrong side....know that she was supposed to be working for him. It allowed him to witness the angry violent act of a skinny blonde young woman named Beatrix Kiddo and know that she would be Black Mamba.
Then again, this "sixth sense" only went so far, it didn't shed any light onto what Beatrix would eventually become to him. There was no mystique there, it was called being human. He chuckled, "Well...either way, I'm not going to argue with you on the twisted array comment." He wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders.
"Good because if you did I'd get annoyed," she replied as her head settled against his shoulder. Beatrix fell silent after that and became lost in her own thoughts. Blue eyes shifted to the ceramic skull that was a reminder of the enjoyment she had been experiencing over the past few days and then her eyes moved to Bill. Bill reminded her of too many things and she moved her eyes downcast.
The topic they had just discussed had its own depth and the prospect of that depth was what perhaps put the tall blonde in her suddenly passive mood. She was also tired.
"I'm not playing tour guide tomorrow," she stated suddenly in a reassuring but light tone. A single hand came up and idly began to fiddle with the button to his shirt. "Is there anything you felt inclined to do before we depart?"
"Hrm," Bill let his head fall back against the side of the bed, "Well...our return flight isn't for three more days....well two really, since the flight leaves in the morning." He paused thinking, "We should make the best of the time we have left..." He understood Beatrix not wanting to play tour guide anymore.
"Let's just play it by ear," he decided, ".....the Bastille still sounds interesting and you mentioned something about one of hokey little boat rides...although," he smirked down at her, "..that might take some dragging to get me to do. We must get more coffee..." Bill was a moderate coffee drinker, but he had to admit the coffee in Paris was good enough to make him a temporary addict. "We could just walk around, explore...there's still the whole other side of the city we haven't seen." Obviously Bill really just wanted to steal more time away with Beatrix, far from the insanity of "home" and was really indifferent to what those things really were. "We might be able to find something else creepy..." he chuckled, "..although, I highly doubt anything is going to top those catacombs." He glanced up at the staring ceramic skull.
He looked back down at her, "Unless you're in a rush to get back home?"
Beatrix fiercely shook her pretty blonde head. "No…hell…no. I'd stay here another week but I know how that would affect business," she gave him a sly smile and picked her head off his shoulder.
Her jaw then stretched into a yawn which she covered with an open palm. She shook away the sudden spring of exhaustion settling on her body. "I think tomorrow I'm going to accept the challenge of dragging you on a hokey little boat ride." Her slender brows narrowed. "And I'll make sure its extra hokey because you love it so much." Her sarcastic smiled died down and she shifted her position. She splayed out on the floor and settled her head on Bill's lap without much of an invite. Not that he gave a damn. Blue eyes stared up at him. "Feel free to enlighten me with another story before 'sleepy time'."
Bill had this daunting feeling that she was going to suggest getting him on one of those damn boats, but...he had gotten her to dance with him, so it was something of a fair trade off. He'd just have to deal with it. He smiled gently down at her, eyes crinkling with warm humor. He couldn't remember when she started using the "sleepy time" phrase, but it was rather cute...in that..'something you'd tell your child' sort of way.
"Well...let's see...," he said softly, naturally, be began to fiddle with strands of her hair that had fallen over his crossed legs. Again, he was touched that she actually liked and wanted to hear his stories. Bill had an almost endless library of stories to draw upon; stories about himself, stories he'd heard throughout his life about others, bullshit stories,
ancient stories..which were the ones he preferred at the moment. "In ancient China," he began, in such typical Bill fashion, it was almost funny. "...there are many stories of the goddess Nuwa. She is the goddess who separated the heaven from the earth, thus creating the Divine Land...aka China. According to the legends she is also the original ancestor of the Chinese nation. She was the younger sister of the Emperor Fuxi..and thus was herself an empress," he glanced down at Beatrix with a raised eyebrow, "She was an empowered woman...right up your alley Kiddo," he smiled, "Anyways," he fell back into story mode, "...according to the records Nuwa had the body of a snake, but the head of a human....and she had the virtue of a divine mean a number of things really," he chuckled, "Either way..Nuwa loved peace and she loved to make things. She molded figures from the yellow earth and gave them life and the ability to bear children....thus...this was how humanity was created. At some point, demons were fighting in the netherworld and in the process broke the pillars that held the heavens up...putting the human world in deadly peril. Seeing this, Nuwa worked endlessly to save humankind by melting down the five-colored stones to mend the breach in the heavens. Nuwa succeeded, but her efforts had exhausted her so much, that she laid down on the earth and died...and was transformed into a vast mountain range. By doing so, she nurtured the growth of the Chinese nation by providing a rich and fertile land." He paused, still stroking Beatrix's tussled hair, "Needless to say....she was one hell of a lady. It is also said," he began anew, "that there were no men when the sky and the earth were separated and it was Nuwa who made men by molding the yellow clay. But again, this work was so taxing that her strength could not hold up and she compensated for this by dipping a rope into the yellow mud and lifting it. The mud that dripped from the rope became men. These two different methods of creating men resulted in two different types of men. Those men who had been made by being molded from the clay were rich and noble, but those men who had been made by lifting the rope were poor and low," he came to a dramatic pause, "...and it was so....as they say."
He had been watching Beatrix the entire time with that sternly warm look of his, watching her slowly drift off. It was a beautiful sight. He sat there in silence for a few moments longer, watching her, and then he slowly shifted position.
"Come on Kiddo....'sleepy time' for you....for both of us...," he mumbled as he gently lifted her up, draping her arms over his shoulder. He stood up and taking her with him, hefted her onto the bed. He rather tenderly took his time to get her under the covers. Leaving her there momentarily, he took a few minutes to get ready for bed and when he returned she looked completely out. Crawling in beside her, he nestled his forehead against her shoulder. The last thing he remembered before drifting off to sleep, was feeling extremely content, and as he and Beatrix liked to put it..."really fucking happy."