A/N: This takes place in around mid to late November, just so we're clear. This chapter is a result of my deranged mind at four a.m. after three days of insomnia.. Blame the insomnia.

Thankyou to my wonderful reviewers.. You guys kick ass.

"Open."

Letty stood beside the couch holding a glass of water and Vince's morning tablet, trying not to laugh at the two scruffy men with some of the worst bed hair she had ever encountered. Vince's hair, now that it was longer, stuck up in all directions and looked as if it were purposefully done, but Leon's… Leon's was flat on one side of his head and sticking up on the other.

Both were engrossed in a twenty year old episode of The Smurfs, wrapped in their quilts. Outside, rain pattered against the sidewalk softly and a slight breeze blew through the open window. Neither could be bothered putting on more clothing than their boxers, and tank in Vince's case, but in a move that baffled her to no end, they were both more than capable of trekking back downstairs and retrieving their blankets.

Obediently, Vince's jaw dropped open and he tilted his head toward her, eyes never leaving the television.

"That Gargamel," Leon grumbled, chewing on a piece of toast, "He needs a good ass whoopin."

Swallowing his pill and the mouthful of water, Vince nodded in agreement. "You know why Grouchy is grouchy, don't you. And Smurfette… Pfft.. Don't get me started on her. Skank."

Letty stood back, amazed as the two discussed the male to female ratio of the Smurfs as if it were one of the most important topics on earth. All because of Vince's one little statement about Smurfette.

".. No, no! Think about it, Le. How many female Smurfs are there in the show? Two, right? And one of 'em is a kid. Now look at how many little kiddie Smurfs there are in the show… That just aint right. Baby Smurfs are made the same way baby people are! They don't just pop up outta the ground. She's a ho, Leon. A ho!" Vince finished, his tone full of conviction. He even braved the chilly air on his skin and stomped his foot for extra emphasis.

Leon erupted into a fit of laughter. "You really have too much time on your hands, V. Jesus. I think those morphine pills you take for the pain have gone to your brain." He snickered, taking another bite out of his toast.

Vince glowered at his younger brother. "Well at least I don't look like I spent the night sleeping against an iron!" He spat childishly. "And for your information, I've thought that about her for years."

Sensing an oncoming argument, Letty decided to interject. "Actually, Le.. It makes sense if you think about it. There are an awful lot of children for a village with only one female." She pointed out. I can't believe I'm actually getting into this with them.

Vince smiled up at her brightly. "Thankyou, Letty. Nice to know someone uses their brain." He glared at Leon as he said the last part, bundling himself into the blanket further.

Leon scowled at the pair from across the room. "I give you sex.. and you take his side?" he asked incredulously, "Anyway, maybe the boy Smurfs can have babies together. Maybe they get gay when they need to." He reasoned.

"Did you just say what I think you did?" Letty asked through her laughter, sitting on the arm of the couch.

Vince held his hand up. "Ok, ok! Number one! It's nice to know that you two enjoy each others… company… But I'd rather not hear it, or about it. Thankyou." He ignored Leon's insane laughter, "And number two? Aren't I supposed to be the one on drugs? What the fuck were you thinking when you spat that out? The boy Smurfs can have babies together.. You're an idiot. Smurfette is a slut, Leon. End of story."

Leon rolled his eyes, still laughing, and spread himself across the two seater. "And that, ladies and gentlemen is why you don't let Vince get up and take his pills early. Fucking lunatic."

Letty smothered her laughter with her hand and walked back into the kitchen, listening to the pair's bickering. It felt good to hear them getting back to a semblance of normalcy. Well, as normal as three people living in a house that belonged to someone they hated could be.

She reached for her shoe, slipping it on over her socked foot. She had gotten a job as a secretary at the local vets. Sure it sucked seeing the condition of some of the animals, but so far the good far outweighed the bad. A week or two earlier, a woman had come in with a pregnant American Bulldog, Leon's favourite breed and she was planning on getting him one of the pups for his birthday. It was already teed up with the owner and all. He had always wanted one but Mia was allergic and Dom had flat out refused to have a 'filthy animal' living in his home.

Still unsure as to whether she was willing to share him with the puppy, Letty was already looking forward to seeing his reaction when she gave it to him anyway.

"Letty!" Leon called out to her, "It's quarter till nine! You're going to be late for work!"

Glancing at the clock, she grabbed up her keys and headed out into the living room. Both men looked up at her upon entry.

"Ok, boys," she started, leaning down to kiss Vince's cheek and give him a hug, "You two behave. Le don't forget you have work at eleven and V, Tala will pick you up at one for your appointment." She leaned down to kiss Leon goodbye, lingering a little longer than necessary.

"Letty.. It's five to." Vince's voice cut in from across the room, making her tear away from Leon and bolt for the door, calling her goodbyes behind her and promising to drive carefully on the wet roads.

Leon looked at the clock on the VCR, and slowly turned to Vince. It was only eight forty seven. "That was cold, bro."

Vince smiled at him smugly. "I do my best."

"Do you want something to eat?" Tala asked, going into the kitchen. Vince dropped onto the couch tiredly. He was aching from his fingertips to his neck. All he wanted to do was take a few pain killers and crash out in his nice comfy bed with or without Tala, depending on whether she had work or not.

"V? You hungry, sweetheart?"

He opened his eyes, holding his arm out to her. "No. Do you have work tonight?" He asked hesitantly as she curled up beside him, inhaling the sweet honey like scent of her hair. Her favourite scent constantly changed and this weeks, so far, seemed to be a light honey like fragrance. It suited her.

"Nope," she answered lazily, rubbing circles over the scar on his side. He wasn't as conscious about it with her as he was with others. She had seen his scars, seen him at his worst.

"Will you stay here tonight? I mean, if you don't want to that's fine.."

Tala rolled her eyes good naturedly. "V, I'll stay. As long as you leave a lamp or something on."

His eyes were wide and eager to please. "Of course.. Of course."

His bare back was to her and he was sitting on the floor looking at something in front of him. Faintly, she could hear him sniffle every now and then. His shoulders were hunched over and the dark strap of his brace ran diagonally across his upper back and looped underneath his left arm, then back across his chest to hold his arm immobile while he slept. The pinkish scar, the exit wound from where he was shot, looked like a shiny patch against the otherwise unblemished skin of his back, obvious and raised up slightly. It was yet to fade.

At first when she heard his quiet crying, she thought it was from the pain, but he hardly ever commented on that aspect of his injury any more. He hardly ever commented on it in the first place at all. When she crawled over to his side of the bed though and peered over his shoulder, she saw what was causing him so much pain.

His left hand outstretched and resting on the dark rosewood, Vince's Strat lay in it's case, opened, in front of him. Tala felt the lump forming in her throat as she watched him drag his fingers across the lacquered body of the guitar. His shoulders shook a little more. She had always wondered about the guitar cases that lined his walls, wondered whether he still looked at the instruments he could no longer play due to a cruel twist of fate. She wondered whether he missed the feeling of his fingers sliding over the cool metal strings, the way each guitar sounded slightly different, whether it hurt to have them so close, but so far out of reach… Now she had her answer.

He did miss the way the strings felt beneath his fingers. He did miss the sound of perfectly pitched notes filling his room… He missed playing.

Carefully, as not to startle him, she noisily climbed to the floor behind him and slid her hands across his back, then around to rest on his ribs, her cheek pressed to the centre of his back. She nuzzled the hard ridges of his spine and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. He didn't respond, his eyes still fixated on the contents of the case in front of him.

"This is an American Vintage '62 Strat," he started, unmoving. "My mother bought it for me for Christmas a few years back.. It wasn't long after that that she left her husband and Leon in Miami." He paused, choking back tears. "He used to hit Le.. So he came to live with me instead. Him and Jesse. They'd been living with me for about a year when we got a call.. Mama was dying. We barely made it to Houston in time."

She squeezed him a little tighter around the middle, relieved when his large hand fumbled to grab hold of her smaller one.

"Is that when you promised to take care of him?" she asked softly, her lips moving ever so slightly against his smooth back. He nodded silently, still staring at the beautiful bluish guitar.

"She died ten minutes after we arrived." He explained, untangling his fingers to touch the glossy surface. He chuckled slightly. "She.. She said that she was going to get the black one, but as soon as she saw this colour it reminded her of me."

Tala unwrapped herself from around him and moved to sit beside him, but Vince had other plans. She allowed him to pull her into his lap and settled in the hollow between his crossed legs. She leaned forward slightly to avoid pressing on his sore arm.

"What colour is it?" She asked, leaning over it to have a closer look. Up close, the instrument was simply stunning. Lord only knew what he had hidden away in the remaining four cases against the wall.

"Ocean turquoise," he answered, his hand resting on the bend of her kneecap. "You think she was right?"

Apprehensively, Tala looked at him over her shoulder and almost broke down there and then. His face was pale, his cheeks splotchy from crying. His nose was a little red and his eyes were glassy. He had been crying long before she woke up and heard him. Reigning in her grief for him, she looked from him back to the guitar. She saw the reason Vince's mother had picked the blue, sorry, ocean turquoise, right away. It was the same colour as his eyes. Maybe a tad more metallic, but the colour was remarkably similar.

Avoiding answering right away, she turned slightly in his lap so she was side on to him. "You miss playing don't you."

His response was a watery nod. "I don't want to sell them," he looked at the row of cases, then to the Strat in front of them, "-but I have no use for them any more."

Tala looked at him, slack jawed. "You are not selling your guitars, Vincent! If you sell them you'll be selling a piece of yourself."

His eyes shone with unshed tears. "But I can't look at them, Tal. It hurts."

"How about this," she began, looping her arms around his neck. Her fingers played with the dark hair at the nape of his neck. "If you like, so you don't have to look at them, we can move them out of your room. Upstairs or something."

Vince leaned forward, resting his cheek against her chest just above her breast. His prickly beard rubbed against the exposed skin, tickling her. "Can I keep a couple at your place?" He rushed to explain when he felt her stiffen against him. "It's just.. We might be moving out soon and I want them to be safe and I figured that your place is as good as any if not better, and-" he stopped when he noticed Tala's amused expression. "I was rambling, wasn't I?"

She nodded, giggling quietly. "Yeah, baby. You were." Her fingernails scraped against his scalp, making him tip his head back. It always seemed to calm him when he got frazzled. He made that quiet little moaning sound in the back of his throat when she brushed over a spot near his ear and his eyes fluttered shut. Tala grinned to herself, committing the location to memory. Interesting. She raked her fingers over the same place again, just to be sure, a little harder now. This time a low growl bubbled up from his chest. His eyes opened and fixed on her, glazed and just a little feral.

His tone was full of warning. "Babe.. Don't."

Innocently, she brushed over the spot again, willing him to make that sound again. Not one to disappoint, he did and she barely refrained from shivering against him. "Don't, it hurts? Or don't, it turns me on?"

His eyes lost a little of their feral gleam, instead replaced with a look of self consciousness. "The second one." He answered after a moment. When he realised she wasn't about to move, he cleared his throat slightly. His hand came up to rest on her waist, long fingers splayed across her side and ribs.

"You don't want me Tal. I'm a criminal."

She shrugged flippantly. "Don't care."

"I've been in jail," at her blank look, "for assault."

She leant in and brushed a kiss over his throat, nipping at his Adam's apple. "So what?"

"With a deadly weapon." She stopped this time and sat back, eyeing him.

"Are you trying to scare me away, Vincent?"

He avoided eye contact, letting his hand slip away from her to the floor beside him. "You deserve better, is all." He jumped, surprised when he felt Tala's small hands on his cheeks. When he looked at her, she looked pissed off. For the first time since he had met her, she truly looked pissed off.

"You listen to me, Vince. I don't want better than you! I don't want some guy who works all day, comes home and doesn't want to see me! I do not want some clean shaven, suit wearing jackass who thinks he's prettier than me-"

"That's not possible." Vince interrupted softly. Tala's anger seemed to dwindle at his statement and she sighed, leaning her forehead against his.

"Vince, I don't want anyone like that. You know why?"

He shook his head, staring into her dark, dark eyes.

She leant in that little bit further and kissed him tenderly. "Because they're not you, big guy. I love you, not some stuffy jerk who needs an attitude adjustment."

Vince swallowed thickly, still reeling from her kiss. "Love you too."

"Then why the hell are you trying to convince me that you're not good enough for me?"

"Because I can't give you anything.." he trailed off weakly, knowing he wasn't about to win this argument.

Tala rolled her eyes and climbed off him, standing up. "Vince. I don't want anything more than you've given me up til now.. Well.. Maybe your body. That'd be nice." She smirked, visibly contemplating it. Vince gaped at her.

"Tala!"

She laughed at his shocked outburst. "Come on baby," she helped him to his feet. "Come back to bed."

Vince eyed her warily, allowing himself to be lead by the hand. "You're a fiend." He dead panned.

"I'm not the one who's adamant about Smurfette being a slut," she threw back over her shoulder, crawling across the bed to 'her' side. She had been privy to a repeat viewing of the argument over dinner earlier.

Vince frowned, throwing the blanket back, grumbling. "…Well she is."