AR-DEE-AR-AR!
Ed had been standing outside of Soap's kitchen around the same time that Hensley and Cleave had finally struggled out of their entrapment. He'd been sent to watch for the tow truck to come pick up Tom's car, and had nearly been hit by a swerving car with a blown tire. Thankfully, the back of Tom's car prevented Ed from becoming an insignificant, colourful smear on the sidewalk. He had, instead, been hit by a dirt puddle that the swerving car had kicked up, so his crisp camelhair coat was suddenly not so crisp, and his foul mood had just gotten fouler.
Smoke began to pour from the newest car in what was slowly becoming a pile up, and Ed managed to collect enough of what remained of his wits and approached the car to check on the driver.
"You alright, mate?" Ed asked, though he knew it was a pretty stupid question. The driver looked up, and Ed was startled to find himself staring into a pair of large brown eyes.
Had this been a movie, or the works of a romantic with a penchant for cliché love-at-first-sight, boy helps girl stories, this would have been the point where the two locked eyes for a long time, and both would have been lost for words and unable to possibly speak.
Because this wasn't written by a romantic, but rather by a twisted weirdo, this was the response:
"Fucking peachy." She said, and wiped blood off of her lip. Ed looked awkward for a moment, and then fell over.
There was a good reason for this, and it was because Cleave had just hit him over the head with the blunt of his gun. The woman in the car stared at the two agents as they picked up Ed's unconscious form and walked away with him; Hensley backtracked, and then said to the woman:
"You saw nothing."
And then he followed after his partner again. They tried for a long time to hail a taxi, but for some reason no one would stop for two men in ominous suits holding up an unconscious man, so they took a ride on the horse and buggy.
The woman shrugged, and then got out of her car to assess the damage. Ironically, exactly three minutes and forty-eight seconds later, a tow truck arrived and took her car away to be serviced.
"So what do you do for a living, Denny?" Bacon asked.
"I plead the fifth." Denny replied promptly, and Soap put away the large meat cleaver he'd been slowly extracting.
"Ah." Tom said, "Well if it makes you feel any better, Bacon sells stolen goods on the street and I sell them in the back of my convenience store. You wouldn't happen to be interested in rifles, would you?"
"Shut up, Tom." Bacon and Soap said at the same time.
"This isn't the sort of information you should just give to people, Tom," Soap said.
"Just trying to make him feel welcome," Tom shrugged, "Besides, what could he do that's so bad anyways, he is a friend of yours Soap, and we're all aware of your obsession with rules. As long as he's not a cop."
"Or a lawyer," Bacon added.
"Or a lawyer." Tom continued casually, "Then what's the problem with a question or two?"
Tom gave Soap an infuriatingly good-natured little smile, knowing he had trumped the Chef this time around.
"So what do you do, Denny?" Tom asked again, when he was satisfied that he had corked Soap's protests for now.
"Well, I –" Denny began, but was cut off by a knock at the door.
"Must be Ed, I'll get it," Soap said, and hurriedly went to the front.
He opened the door and got the briefest glimpse of the woman on the other side before he was grabbed by the collar and yanked down into a tongue-entwining kiss. Soap flailed a little, and the other three looked on with raised eyebrows; when the woman let him go, Soap leaned up against the nearest wall.
"Hullo Osprey." Soap said.
"Hullo Alex," she replied. "Hullo Dennis you fuckwad."
All but Soap and Dennis looked taken aback by this. The woman named Osprey was only a little over five feet tall with a sweet, heart shaped face and obvious Asian backgrounds. In her suede and faux-fur lined coat, pink knit cap, and with her large brown eyes, she looked like a sweet little thing. Bacon and Tom's similar expectations of a kind woman had been dropkicked, so a little shock was warranted.
"Oz." Denny replied simply.
"Alex, the parking here absolutely sucks," Osprey went on, pulling off her gloves, "I wound up parking in the back of another car."
"Another car." Tom repeated dully.
"Some old junked up station wagon," Osprey said airily, "But the towing company came."
Tom twitched.
"Where the hell is Ed, then?" Bacon asked.
"He's not a tall, thin chap with curly hair, is he?" Osprey asked.
"Yes."
"Camelhair coat, nice cheekbones, dim expression?"
"That would be him, yes."
"Some gorilla knocked him out and took him for a date on a carriage. Apparently he's Faye Wray's replacement." She said, and then turned to Soap, "Alex, are you just going to lean against the wall all day or do I get my welcome grope?"
There was a very long awkward silence after this, and Osprey marched over to Soap, grabbed his hand and pressed it to her behind. She pursed her lips at him when he did nothing.
"Your grip is gone Alex! What's the matter with you? I want my bloody grope, it's been four and a half goddamn years, and I expect at least a halfway decent bottom grope!"
"If you don't mind my asking, who the hell is she and what the hell is she doing?" Tom said from his place seated on the floor.
There was more silence still, and Osprey looked from Soap, to Tom, to Soap's hand, to Soap again. He remained silent, and his mouth was pulled into a thin line that made him look ill.
"I'm an old friend of his," Osprey said, and it sounded more like question directed at Soap. When he said nothing still, she added, "From the glory days."
"'Glory days'?" Bacon repeated.
"Alex, what is wrong with you?" Osprey asked.
By this point Soap was covering his face with one of his hands, slowly shaking his head. His shoulders were rounded in what could only ever be considered as the stance of one who has been defeated after a long and brutal battle of strength, will, and determination. Unfortunately the little bastard called Fate had won out and brought it all crashing back.
"It was all going well." Soap said mournfully, "There were a few bumps, but it was all going well."
"What is he on about?" Osprey asked, and everyone but Denny shrugged.
"It couldn't last. I knew it couldn't, it was too much to ask." Soap went on. He looked up at everyone, and the deep shadows beneath his eyes showed clearly.
"Dear God, you really have changed." Osprey said quietly. "I didn't want to believe it when I'd heard it, but you have. I should have come sooner."
"Why did you come at all?" Soap asked.
Osprey looked briefly taken aback by the question, but got over it quickly,
"Geoff was attacked last night." Osprey said, and Soap stared at her.
"Who's Geoff?" Tom asked weakly, barely keeping tabs on what was happening anymore.
"Shut the hell up Tom. Attacked by who?"
"Someone working for Charlie the Coffin. I learned about the situation from Geoff, and since he's still alive and coherent, he must have put up one hell of a fight," Osprey said, "Alex, it was Pierce."
"Who's Pierce?" Tom asked, but quickly shut up when he saw the look on Soap's face. He sank into his seat a bit, and Bacon gave Tom a brief pat on the shoulder.
"Pierce is dead." Soap said plainly.
"Apparently not."
"No, he is dead. He's dead." Soap repeated, "Dead."
"He's alive and kicking hard," Osprey went on urgently, "And he's trying to kick his way through the entire list of the Brotherhood. We're all on a hit list, Alex."
"He's dead!" Soap said loudly, quite suddenly jerking away from the wall, "I watched him die, goddammit!"
"No, Alex, we're going to die if you don't get it together. He's still alive, and he's still a murderous sadistic bastard."
"This is all my fault!" Denny wailed.
"Yes it is you fuckwit, but that's not the point right now," Osprey shot back, then rounded on Soap again. "He will buzz saw every one of us Alex, we're re-grouping."
"Dead." Soap said stubbornly. Osprey grabbed his collar and shook him roughly.
"We need our leader back!"
"He's dead too."
"Goddammit Alexander – " she began, and her sweet heart-shaped face was turning pink with rage. She cut herself off, however, when Soap slid down the wall and sat quietly on the floor.
The silence that followed was so thick that it nearly asphyxiated them all right then and there. Tom hiccupped.
"Alex," Osprey said, regaining her calm at the sight of Soap looking so forlorn. "What happened to Wesley –"
"Don't say it." Soap said.
"It wasn't your fault." She finished. "You did all you could to save him."
"Stop."
"And what you saw –"
"Please."
"I know you don't want to go back. But we need you Alex. Pierce will never give up now that he knows where we are. You know he won't; he'll stalk us, he'll kill –"
"I can't."
"You're the best there is."
"Then we're all dead." Soap said plainly.
Author's Note: Please don't kill me. TeenagedBanshee, the cliffhanger thing should stop one day, but that will probably be the last chapter, if I ever get to it. Junkie, if you like angst, then these next few chapters will probably be your favourites. Thalionia, you smell.