This story is based on the 'Gunsmith Cats' manga by Kenichi Sonoda, with a few elements from the 'Riding Bean' OAV (1989). It is set after the last published manga in English as of March 2005.
Tell me what you thought of it, no matter what you have to say. I'm a big girl. :) I always welcome reader reactions, especially ones that go into detail. Please email me at MmeManga "at" aol dot com (address spelled out because this site strips all email addys and URLS) or leave your comments here.
NOTE: The complete version of this story is housed at my Livejournal, which is linked on my main page on this site. I have removed large sections of chapters Two, Eight and Thirty from the postings here because of the current site rules, although this story existed on the site long before those rules went into effect. I am sorry for any inconvenience to readers; this factor is unfortunately not under my control. The complete version will also be posted at Mediaminer. My former dedicated Gunsmith Cats site no longer exists.
DISCLAIMER: Characters of RALLY VINCENT, BEAN BANDIT, MAY HOPKINS, ROY COLEMAN, KEN TAKI copyright Kenichi Sonoda. All other characters, and story, copyright 2000--2005 by Madame Manga. Contact by email at MmeManga Do not sell or print for sale without the express written permission of the author. Do not archive. Permission is granted to circulate this text in electronic form, free of charge and with this disclaimer and the author's name attached. Do not plagiarize, alter, or appropriate this text in any way. This story is intended for personal entertainment purposes only. No infringement of any copyrights or other rights is intended.
ADULT CONTENT WARNING IN BOLD CAPS!
This story is not for kids or the easily offended. It contains explicit violence and extreme profanity. If you object to reading such things, do not read this story.
Chasing the Dragon
by Madame Manga
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Larry's arms tensed around her. He quivered like a young tree in a high wind. But he didn't make a run for it—there wasn't anywhere to go except straight past Bean. Slowly he released Rally and moved to the side.
Bean walked towards them, a hulking silhouette in the dark. One orange coal, like a single malevolent eye, gleamed in the center of his face where the cigarette smoldered.
Rally didn't feel very confident herself. The little Du0 in her thigh holster wasn't quickly accessible under her narrow skirt. Bean would only sneer at it anyway. He was a few yards from them now on the top of the truck ramp, within the pool of light over the freight entrance. The look on his face was plain. She shivered.
He halted and examined them as they huddled at the bottom of the ramp, and removed the cigarette from his mouth. Suppressing a cough, he dropped it and stepped on it, then ground it dead on the rough pavement with an abrupt, vindictive turn of his boot.
Rally drew in a sharp breath. Larry made a palms-out gesture of conciliation or self-defense, shaking so hard he wobbled.
Bean examined him with a slow and insolent gaze, as if he meant to flay him down to the bone and find him wanting. "Looks like the pair of ya are havin' an awful good party out here, Sam. Guess I'll hafta take ya up on that invite."
He zipped his jacket down and shrugged it open with a creak of heavy leather.
This wasn't a fair fight. It was two against one, Rally was armed, and they still didn't have a chance in hell. If Bean meant to beat Larry to death in front of her, there wasn't a thing she could do to prevent it. She realized he wouldn't hesitate to strike her if she tried to run away or fetch help. His heavy boots scraped on the ramp as he approached.
Rally hitched up her dress, trying to work the narrow hem up her thighs. Maybe if she bounced a few shots off the freight doors above them she could attract attention from the hall. In the face of a dozen cops and FBI agents, Bean might decide to back off. Assuming he wasn't dead set on assassination, and that was a big assumption.
But even if she could ward him off tonight, what about tomorrow, or next week? Was this the reason he had finally shown up—to demonstrate exactly how he felt about her by tearing his rival apart? What was he doing? If Bean harmed Larry, her future was determined, and it wouldn't be in Chicago after all.
Angry loyalty surged through her. This was a matter of honor: family honor. The vicious son of a bitch! She'd show him—she'd tell Larry yes and to hell with anything else!
"Bean, if you even touch—" she got out. He ignored her.
He walked right up to Larry and backed him into a corner of the loading dock until they stood almost chest to chest, Bean towering over Larry by three-quarters of a head. Raising his hands to his breastbone, Bean cracked one more knuckle with a loud snap. Larry jumped, and Bean lifted his upper lip in a cross between a grin and a snarl.
Hands closing into huge knotted fists, he casually tapped them together, his sharp eyes never leaving Larry. Those fists could break glass, split flesh, splinter bone. Rally felt almost sick with dread.
Larry's face was gray and moist, but he looked straight up at Bean and set his trembling jaw. Bean lifted a brow.
Stitches popping in her seams, Rally bared her legs to the waist, not caring in the least that she was flashing her underwear and garter belt. Frantically she scrabbled for the gun. Just as she got it out, Bean finally glanced around.
"Relax, Vincent. Somebody might get hurt." Only a slight turn of his head in her direction. He didn't look into her eyes.
"What?" The Du0 fell to the ground. Bean abandoned Larry, who sagged like his hamstrings had been cut.
"C'mon, babe. If I was aimin' to spoil his pretty face, I'd've done it already." He sounded weary, cynical. "I ain't that kind." Stooping for a moment, he retrieved Rally's gun and tossed it into her grasp, still not looking straight at her.
Larry didn't look convinced. "Is that so? You didn't come here to—"
"Oh, yeah, that's right. Think I got somethin' for you." Bean put his hand in his jacket and pulled something from an interior pocket. Rally tensed, but it was only a folded bandanna. He took Larry's wrist, placed the little bundle into his hand and released him.
"Wh-what's this?" Larry stared at the bandanna.
"Wedding present." The sarcasm covered something else. Bean stalked up the ramp, his back hunched. At the top, he halted for a moment and glanced over his shoulder at Larry. "Go on, Loverboy, kiss her again. I ain't interfering." He kicked the side of the dumpster with a thunderous bang, inflicting a dent six inches deep, and turned away.
Rally burst out in anger. "Bean, you jerk, were you standing there listening to us? Because—"
"No, I wasn't, babe." He walked swiftly towards the back alley. "I didn't hear what you said. Not like I needed to."
Rally yanked her dress down, left Larry hyperventilating against the wall and ran after Bean. Her heels caught in the pavement cracks and the skirt felt like a straitjacket. "Wait just a doggone minute, you big bully! I've got something to say to—"
"Hey, hey. What's all the noise?" Pete Smith stood next to the trailers, a glass in his hand and Wojohowicz right behind him. "That you, Bandit? You just arrive at the party? Come have a drink!" He shaded his eyes from the overhead light and waved an invitation to Bean with the glass. Rally stopped where she was: halfway between Larry, under the light of the loading ramp, and Bean, who had paused in the darkness of the alley. She swiveled her head to look at each of them in turn.
"Hey, Smith." Bean gave him a curt nod. "Sorry, I'm leavin'."
"What the hell?" Smith appealed to Larry. "This is the man who saved your life, kid! You're the damn host and he oughta be the biggest guest of honor, no offense to you, Miss Rally. Ain't you even going to ask him to step into the hall?"
Bean stopped and sauntered back towards them until he stood at the edge of the circle of light. Rally retreated and returned to Larry. With one contemptuous glance Bean surveyed them all, not sparing Rally and pausing on Larry. His nasty grin was a challenge. Rally bristled.
"Come on in, Bean." Larry's voice shook, but he came forward, gripped Rally's hand and went on in a calmer tone. "My parents would never forgive me if I let you leave without giving them a chance to thank you."
Bean looked surprised and even slightly chastened. "Thanks, but I gotta blow."
"A lot of the guests have gone home, Bandit, if that's what's worrying you. It's just the family and best friends and some of us bums in law enforcement. The cops are too drunk to care who you are. The band's playing till one A.M. and the party's just getting up some real steam." Smith walked up to him and clapped him on the back. "Come with me, Roadbuster. We'll pour a couple of double Scotches and shoot the shit for a while. Hey, you got that 'Vette parked somewhere around here?"
Wojohowicz stood a little distance away, her eyes on Bean and her hand at her necklace. "Hello, Bandit."
He gave her an appraising glance and half-smile. "Hey there, Agent Sue. Lookin' good."
"Thank you." She came closer and held out a hand to him. "We all want to congratulate you properly, Bean. Please? I don't think we're going to get another chance."
"Well, if it's going to get done all proper an' everything, I guess I can't say no." He took Wojohowicz's hand, drew her towards him and put an arm around her waist. She wasn't that much shorter than him in her spike heels. "Band's playin', huh? I think I feel like dancin'." Bean grinned and pivoted to the left to put her into a dip. Wojohowicz let out a little laughing shriek.
Rally and Larry trailed after Bean and the FBI agents, not speaking. Larry still looked pale, though he was not trembling any more. He held the outer door for her, and stopped her in the vestibule when the rest of the party had gone through the inner doors into the main hall.
"Would you have shot him? I mean, if he'd attacked me?"
"God, Larry! This gun wouldn't have helped." She hiked her skirt again and put it away. Larry averted his eyes and blushed. After painstakingly straightening her stockings with the aid of a big gold-framed mirror hanging on the wall of the vestibule that faced the inner doors, she smoothed the wrinkles from her dress and checked the back with a look over her shoulder. "I'd have needed my assault rifle to make much impression on him. When he's wearing that jacket—"
"That's not what I asked you." His face clouded. "He's still after you. Why would he play that game if he wasn't trying to force us apart? And the way you—"
"Larry…" She put a hand on his shoulder. "Did Agent Smith tell you Bean and I slept together a little while after I met you?"
"What?"
"No, Pete's a gentleman. As far as that goes." She chewed her lips and tried to think of how to put this. "I'm not Bean's girlfriend and I never was. I'm as single as they come—I wouldn't dream of two-timing anyone. But I've got to be honest with you, especially after what you just told me." Rally took a deep breath. "I had several varieties of consensual sex with Bean on two separate occasions before he took off with that suitcase of cash."
A painful conflict distorted his features, but his brow quickly smoothed again. "What I said still applies, Rally. I don't care what he's done to you or why. I love you."
"I…I'm grateful to you." She swallowed hard and moved her hand to his chest. Larry covered it with his own. "That's a wonderful compliment, because you're a wonderful guy. So you have to know that there is a…connection…between me and Bean. It was there before I met you. It's not likely to just go away. I guess he's not going to hurt you, and maybe that's for my sake. I don't believe he'll use every possible method at his disposal to try to be with me. But after everything he's done, I know he's always going to be present in one way or another wherever I am. He's just…inevitable."
"I can deal with that." Larry compressed his lips and squeezed her hand. "You're an incredible woman with amazing talents. You've coped with so much violence and evil, and you've done a lot of good in the world. I want to do the same things with my life that you have—you helped me find my true vocation, I think. So knowing that there are some shadows on your past is just a fact of life." He smiled without showing his teeth. "Anyway, he saved my scrawny li'l Chinese-American ass. Even if he's regretting it now, I owe him a great debt."
"Thank you, Larry. You're a sweetheart." They embraced, and went into the banquet hall.
The cooks and waiters had gone home, so Mr. Sam happily took over the kitchen and fired up the stoves again. The Sam girls ran back and forth with hot platters. Mrs. Sam hovered over Bean, refilling his glass every time he took a gulp. He sat at the head table in Rally's place with his jacket hanging on the back of his chair, eating rapidly with Smith on his right hand and Wojohowicz on his left. Sams and friends of Sams crowded into the remaining places and drew up extra chairs two and three deep around the table while Smith held forth on the rescue and consulted Bean on details.
He didn't seem to be paying much attention to the adulating throng, but glanced up once in a while and gave Wojohowicz the eye. Within a few minutes, he had her blushing and fluttering, glancing covertly around and at her boss to check whether anyone else had noticed. They were probably playing footsie under the table. Rally rolled her eyes and walked past.
Larry drew Rally onto the dance floor and held her, rocking slowly. The band settled down to a sensual, piano-laden rhythm with a brushed snare. Rally rested her hand on one of his shoulders and propped her chin on the other. Larry seemed to be trying to shut out the rest of the room, the rest of the world. He whispered into her hair, speaking sweet, loving words that gave her almost as much pain as pleasure.
What a strange night, a strange feeling in the depths of her body and soul. She'd never thought that a man or men could roil her world like this. Larry's hand, cradling her shoulder, felt warm and gentle. She laid her cheek against his and shut her eyes.
"Yeah, I kinda like slow-dancin' best." That was Bean, some alcohol obvious in his voice. "C'mon, Sue. Snuggle up a little closer, hey?" He sounded flirtatious and humorous, but coarse and suggestive at the same time. It might have been that awful rasp he had, as if he had been shouting at the top of his lungs.
Rally looked over Larry's shoulder. He hadn't broken rhythm, though she felt tension in his arms and jaw. Bean and Wojohowicz were right in her line of sight. At first she saw only Bean's broad shoulders with a woman's hands wrapped around them, but he turned and Rally got an eyeful. Bean's hands were planted just below Wojohowicz's waist; as Rally watched, he slid them deliberately downwards and squeezed her bottom. Wojohowicz jumped, and he moved his hands a few inches upwards again. With another turn, Bean looked Rally in the eyes.
She immediately shut them and averted her face; his intention was crudely plain. If she gave him the slightest reaction he would keep it up until she blew her lid at him and humiliated herself and her hosts. Well, this night of all nights he was not going to pull that off. It didn't matter what he did or who he groped; she didn't care.
"I think I'll sit the next one out, Larry." Rally left the floor with him when the song ended, retrieved her evening bag and went to the women's restroom. For a few minutes she hid in the privacy of a stall, brooding and picking at her nail polish while girls at the sinks chattered in Cantonese. This evening had just about burned itself out as far as she was concerned, and she wished she could slip away, drive home in her beloved car and take off the glad rags. But a guest of honor couldn't bail yet, not with the party still going strong and the Sams showing no sign of wrapping things up. She emerged from the stall when the restroom was vacant, fixed her makeup and headed out.
In front of the recess in the back wall where the restrooms were located, a small forest of potted palms screened the doors from the view of the diners. Rally had just started to go around them when she heard a man's voice say her name in a sneering way. She stopped short.
"Yeah, that's right. Pete's little brown girlfriend. Bob gave me all the dirt on her—she's the reason he's getting transferred to Boise."
A drunken snort. "No shit?"
"No shit. You got to hear the rest of this—it gets pretty wild. So apparently the detective was holding this guy off with one gun and not doing so well, and the agents got there just in time, and this guy—he's got his mitts on that dyke who works with Pete, see him?—he starts spouting off about her. Seems he nailed her and he wanted everybody to know it."
"Hey, I think I'd brag about bagging that piece of tail."
"Well, no shit. He starts describing everything in magnificent detail—like how she came on to him and sucked his dick, and from what Bob said, she sounds like a sizzler. And this guy is apparently some hood from Chicago."
"Looks it."
"Doesn't he? He's the one who broke Bob's nose and cut his face. Yeah, real dickhead."
"Maybe we ought to get some of the guys and, you know, teach him a lesson."
"Well, that doesn't sound so bad to me, but he's Pete's latest crush, obviously. Him and the piece of tail. You get the picture? She's got to be banging Pete as well as this hood and the detective, and I guess the Chinese kid into the bargain."
"I see your point. Maybe I could get some of that action. Must be a rip-roarin' little slut, huh?"
"Oh, she looks it. You seen how she struts her stuff? Hey, I haven't spotted her on the dance floor for a while. Where'd she go?"
"She went to the ladies' room, fellas." Rally stepped out and put her hands on her hips. Two FBI agents with their coats off and a mostly empty bottle on the table between them looked up in startlement. "Where she was pulling a train with every guy in uniform here. Too bad you Feds don't rate a sexy outfit with the job. But just maybe, I could make an exception." She sashayed towards them, swinging her bottom and rolling her shoulders. Mesmerized, they let her take their drinks, one in each hand.
Ice and all, she emptied the drinks in their owners' laps and let the glasses fall to the carpet. She flipped off the two culprits as they groaned in agony, one middle finger for each, and stalked out into the hall.
Sitting with May, eating sweets and drinking Chivas was all she really wanted to do for the rest of the evening. Larry looked tired and strained—he wasn't that long out of the hospital either—and so she gently declined another dance. The guest list dwindled steadily over the next half-hour; the well-soaked agents who had been talking trash about her deserted right away, and many others had taken that as the cue to say good night.
But several dozen people remained, and in this cavernous place the party seemed like an intimate family affair, as it almost literally was. The mood became looser and livelier, even with the elders looking on; many of them were nodding or talking in loud, tipsy voices. All attention and all conversation seemed to swirl around one major focus: Bean Bandit.
Dancing with the same few boys in rotation, the Sam twins whispered and giggled behind their hands while they darted curious glances at him. Emerald hung around Bean's vicinity, saying nothing to him but apparently checking out his ass. Even Vanessa seemed impressed with him, though obviously not in the same way her sisters were. She sat with Larry for a long time, speaking with him in low and serious tones.
Eventually the sweets ran low and the whiskey felt like it was drinking her rather than the other way around, so Rally got up to circulate. Someone walked up behind her and let out a scratchy cough.
"Hey, Rally." She looked around, putting as much chill into her expression as she could manage. "Wanna dance?"
Maybe Bean wasn't as drunk as he sounded, but he was certainly getting there. He had a ruthless gleam in his eye and several untidy locks of hair hanging over his forehead. He had just left the dance floor with Wojohowicz, who immediately poured herself a drink with what sounded to Rally like a sigh of relief.
"Oh, I thought you had a partner," said Rally with artificial brightness. "You're not dumping Sue already, are you? You two were getting along SO well."
"Aw, she's getting tired." He grabbed a bottle and drank a long slug straight from it, brought up a whiskey-laden belch that ruffled Rally's hair and wiped his mouth on his forearm.
Rally's eyes watered. She fanned the air in front of her face. "I can certainly understand that. I've gotten tired of you plenty of times."
Bean wrinkled his nose. "'Course, dancin' with you might be hazardous to my health." He leaned closer. "Gettin' my balls busted ain't my idea of a good time with a woman."
"Well, then we're even. Trying to avoid getting asphyxiated and prying fingers off my butt isn't my idea of a good time with a man."
They glowered at each other.
"Aw," said Smith from the nearest table, obviously completely sloshed. "Ain'tcha two gonna take the floor? Yer pardners! Ya work together like…like…" He searched for a simile. "Well, ya work together, that's all. Be a durn shame if ya didn't take a turn oncet." He hiccupped, whacked Bean on the back and wandered off, probably in search of another bottle.
"Yes," said Wojohowicz with a slightly forced smile. "Rally, please do—I'm going to sit out for a while." She looked a little mauled; her dress was wrinkled, her hair somewhat disarranged, and her cheeks very pink. However, she threw Bean a glance that had more attraction than caution in it, and walked away. Bean shrugged and turned to Rally with an inquiring smirk.
"Oh, you want to dance with me? Fine. Let's see if I get my money's worth." She put her hands against his chest and pushed him backwards onto the dance floor. "And keep your grubby paws off my personal property, or I'm going to make you wish you had." Rally gave Bean an evil look and stuck one hand in the air.
He grabbed it, whipped an arm around her waist, and hurled her in a circle. They nearly collided with another couple. Rally stumbled, regained her balance and delivered a sharp kick to Bean's shin with the pointed toe of her shoe. He jerked, glared at her and stepped full-weight on her right foot. Luckily he didn't break her instep, but it wasn't for lack of trying. Rally hopped and cursed.
The band started a fast number and she wrenched her hand out of Bean's. Dislodging his arm from her waist didn't prove as easy; he yanked her right up against him and led her steps by dogged force. After a moment of pointless struggle Rally gave up and worked instead on wedging a few inches of air between their torsos. When they were in some kind of sync with the music, she took a quick peek at Bean's face.
He didn't look angry or triumphant; his eyes were fixed on a point well above her head and his jaw was tight. She looked away just as he glanced down. They were silent through the number, Rally unconsciously relaxing as she concentrated on the beat, and when a slow song came up next, Bean moved in a little closer and embraced her.
Rally stiffened. Her cheek hovered just an inch from his chest, his body surrounding her with an aura of sweat and whiskey. Several tiny spots of sauce had stained his T-shirt, so she focused on them in an effort to ignore what was happening.
A familiar warmth radiated from him, soaking into her skin. From the simmering action of that heat on the ferment of her mind and body, an incandescent fluid seemed to distill itself. It seeped through her marrow and muscles, softening every joint and tense fiber; she bit her lips and tried to freeze it out, but nothing would dam the flow.
The outward curve of her breasts flattened against Bean's chest and she felt his ribcage swell with a deep sigh. As if impelled, she looked up again at his face.
Their eyes met. She swallowed hard, dropped her gaze and then rejoined his. Bean's nostrils flared and his lips twitched. Was he about to speak, or try to kiss her?
He did neither. His hands seemed to mark her through her dress as they drew her in. Rally let her arms circle his waist, her palms curve over the solid muscles of his back. Her eyes drifted half-closed so that she saw everything through the dim veil of her lashes. He watched her with equal concentration, his mouth slightly open and his tongue touching his lips as if he was savoring the smell of her arousal on the rising air. She had been wrong about her attraction to Larry. It would never grow to equal anything like this, not even if they stayed together for the rest of their lives. The seeds of friendship were nothing like the seeds of love.
Her eyes snapped open; she quivered. What was she thinking?
Bean drew a quick, avid breath. They were so near to each other that she could sense his smallest movements, detect the heavy beat of his heart. And so he also could feel her in every detail; his body seemed to invade hers skin-deep, an exploring contact that sought to penetrate through any chink she might open to him. She yielded, letting him delve into her, allowing his breath to enter her nostrils, their bodies to merge together, his searching thoughts to brush hers for the briefest of instants. Bean bowed over her, his loose hair touching her forehead.
"Rally," he murmured. "Oh, woman…" A warm and tingling flush blanketed her. "My car's right down the block. Come with me, baby…I want you."
Her face flamed red-hot, her eyesight blurring. Through her roaring ears, she could hardly make out his raspy voice, though his words seemed to fill her whole mind. "That kid's not for you. I am. I'm the one you want. Please, darlin'. Come with me."
He cupped her head with his fingers lacing through her hair, nuzzled her ear with his gusty breaths further blasting her hearing. Was he actually trembling? "I'm gonna take you straight out of this goddamn town, Rally, and I'm gonna get you in a nice room. I'm gonna get that stinkin' Chink dress off you and kiss you everywhere." His parted lips rubbed against her cheek. "Oh, baby, I'm gonna fuck you so—"
'That's not funny, Bean!" A cold surge of fury spoke for her. Her vision cleared, her melting limbs froze again into their rightful form. "What the hell makes you think I'm the kind of slut that would run off with some hood who threatens my friends?"
Bean's face, pale and stunned, satisfied her anger for an instant. His body tensed and drew back from hers, though he didn't let go of her. The nearest dancers looked at them with wide eyes. The band wrapped up the song and Rally put an elbow in Bean's stomach. He let out a grunt and dropped his hands.
The next time she glanced at the dance floor, while grimly combining the remains of four abandoned bottles into one glass, Bean had dragged Wojohowicz out there again. May came over and gingerly sat down.
"How you doing, Rally? You think maybe we should go home?"
"Are you tired?"
"Not really. I've been having a good conversation with Mr. and Mrs. Sam. I was thinking about you."
Rally sighed and took a drink with her hand on the back of a chair. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Maybe Larry's rested up enough to take a turn with me. After tangling it up with Bean, though, I'm not sure I ever want to do it again!" She looked over her shoulder and saw Bean deeply engaged with his partner, his hands sliding everywhere he wanted to put them with no visible resistance from her. Apparently he was out to seduce every woman in the room, the dirty dog.
Then that connection she had imagined they both felt, his sweet-talk of desire and bed, was nothing but an underhanded ploy to make her commit herself. Then he could laugh in her face, or sneer at her for a panting little hussy and advertise his conquest to all hearers. He might even have gone through with it, just to humiliate her to the greatest possible extent. She made a silent snarl and looked back at May.
"Were you dancing or engaging in combat? Geez, Rally—everybody was looking at you guys and whispering. Even after you quit physically attacking each other, you could cut the hostility with a knife. I just couldn't watch any more."
"So give me a knife. I'll slice him up as small as you like." Rally plopped down in a seat, banged her glass on the table and sulked with her chin propped on her hands. "God, just look at him go at Sue. Not ten minutes after he asked me to—he is SUCH a—"
"He's trying to make you jealous, Rally."
"Well, duh!" She took another swig.
"And you're upping the ante. Try showing him that your feelings are hurt and he'll probably back off."
"Are you nuts? That's just what he wants! I wouldn't give him the satisfaction."
May sighed. "Have it your way. I don't think I'd choose to go head to head with Bean Bandit on anything at all, but hey, it's your funeral."
"Ha. He'll be the one crying in his beer, not me!" She gave a fierce grin and boxed with an invisible opponent. "Yah! Take that, you bum!"
"Rally…"
She got up with her glass, thoroughly drunk and thoroughly angry, and went to find someone to talk to who didn't know Bean.
Back in the restroom with her head in a sink, splashing her face with cold water. She was starting to sober up just a little. Rally abruptly stood up and knocked her bag to the floor when the door opened.
It was Wojohowicz, looking extremely upset. They stared at each other for a moment, and then the agent went into a stall and banged the door shut. Rally grabbed for a paper towel to dry her face and quickly fixed her makeup again. The toilet flushed and Wojohowicz came out. After washing her hands, she leaned on the counter and looked at Rally, who fumbled cosmetics back into her bag. Her lipstick fell to the floor and she bent to get it.
Wojohowicz picked it up and caught her by the wrist. Rally tensed, ready for a confrontation, but the agent had tears in her eyes.
"I'm sorry, Rally…I had no idea. When I saw how you were looking at each other…"
"Sue?" Rally stood up with a knot in her stomach.
"Bean's just playing with me, isn't he?" Wet tracks crawled down her cheeks. "This is some kind of game with the two of you."
"It's his game, not mine. I'm sorry he decided to take it this far."
"Oh, God, Rally, it's my own fault. I couldn't help it…he's got me absolutely nuts. When he grabbed me after you left him there…I mean, he was certainly flirting before, but oh, God, what he said to me just now! I had to get away, or I might have let him..." She gulped and blew her nose on a paper towel. "And…and now I realize what it's like between you and him, and I just couldn't do that to you. I'm so sorry…"
Rally gritted her teeth. She had heard exactly what the bastard was saying to women tonight. "Look, I know Bean. The last person I'm going to blame is you."
Suddenly Wojohowicz's muscular arms were locked around her neck, and the agent sobbed boozy tears on her shoulder. "I hate men. I hate them."
"Believe me, I know how you feel." She patted the drooping blonde curls with a sigh. "At least in regard to that guy. Us girls have got to stick together just in self-defense."
"I know... You might have heard a few rumors about me in the Bureau…they're true. I totally swore off men after college. And I stuck to it…until I met him." She drew a deep, weepy breath. "Oh, God, how could this happen? I'm twenty-eight. I feel like a teenager at the prom."
"Bean can pull the rug out from under anyone who thinks she has a good handle on who she is. I don't know how he does it. Must be a gift."
Wojohowicz was silent for a few moments, quivering. "I think I love him."
"What? Sue, you've drunk too much Chivas. You'll feel differently in the morning!" Rally stared at her own image in the mirror over Wojohowicz's heaving shoulders, her eyes huge and dark. Love Bean?
Oh, she knew Bean. She knew Bean better than he knew himself. She had read documents about him that he had no idea even existed. How could facts ever be a defense against him? Waking up in the morning had never made a lasting difference to how she felt about Bean. She kept coming back to the same damn thing—the heat of his embrace, his voice, the look in his eyes. No matter what she told another woman by way of warning, it wouldn't do a bit of good.
She mustered a laugh and stroked Wojohowicz's head. "Aw, I bet the big pervert's just trying to provoke a catfight. Guess he'd get a kick watching a blonde and a brunette pull out each other's hair!"
Wojohowicz giggled, snuffling tears into Rally's dress. "I guess he would. What do you think we should do?"
"Don't do anything on my account, OK? Dance with Bean if you want—I'm certainly not going to. I'll just keep on ignoring him no matter what he does. Eventually he'll have to admit defeat, and then I'll dance on his grave! Figuratively speaking…I think." She narrowed her eyes. "Believe me, he's never going to make me crack again. Not after he's been such a cast-iron asshole all night."
"You really don't…mind?" Wojohowicz raised her face and blinked at Rally. "I…I watched you slow-dancing…I thought both of you were going to melt down right there. R-Rally, you must know he's crazy about—"
"Then I'll wrap him up in ribbons and make you a present of him. Much good may it do you!"
"Thank you." She kissed Rally on the cheek. And again. And on the mouth. Her lips parted and her tongue probed; for a moment they engaged in a deep, wet smooch.
Not entirely surprised at this turn of events, Rally backed off half a foot and smiled at Wojohowicz. "There, there, Sue. You're drunk, and so am I. Let's not take advantage of each other."
"I'm so goddamn horny…the things he said to me..." She looked plaintively at Rally and stroked her cheek. "You look so pretty tonight. I'm good with my tongue, OK? There's usually plenty of room for two in the wheelchair stalls."
Rally turned bright red. "Sounds like you ought to know. Oh, hell…" Wojohowicz's hands cupped her breasts through her dress, and they kissed again, lingeringly. "You know, you have a point. If we blow off a little steam together, maybe Bean will lose his edge."
"Sounds good to me. Let's take the home-field advantage." Wojohowicz backed Rally into the end stall and locked the door. "How does that dress unfasten, anyway?"
No more than fifteen minutes later, Rally came out of the stall, straightened her dress and picked up her bag to refresh her lipstick. Wojohowicz borrowed it, plus some eyeshadow and blush to repair assorted other damages. Both of them were smiling and relaxed.
"OK, that definitely puts me in a better mood." Rally blotted her lipstick on a towel and gave Wojohowicz a thumbs-up. "Make him weep, sister." She headed out of the restroom with a swing in her walk.
As she passed the table where Larry and his sister were sitting, Vanessa rose, gave Larry's hand a squeeze, and came over to Rally. She looked a little rattled. Rally pointed her chin at an isolated table and took a bottle along just in case. Vanessa ran her hand over her face and adjusted a frog on her jacket.
"Well. Big brother's been telling me some kind of extraordinary things."
"Yeah, I'm not surprised. I'm glad he got a chance to talk to you. I think he's had a rough night." She poured a drink for Vanessa and another one for herself.
"Sounds like it." Stealing a glance at the head table, where Bean was drinking again, Vanessa sat down. "Did Bean Bandit really act like he was going to crack Larry's skull?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
"Because…um, he was your lover once or twice, and he didn't like it when he saw you with Larry." Vanessa raised her brows, though she didn't look precisely scandalized.
"I don't know. I guess it's possible. It's not always as easy to read that big bastard as it might look." Rally showed her teeth and sipped her Chivas. The stuff certainly went down easy. It was starting to taste like soda pop to her, even neat.
"I'll bet."
"As a matter of fact, it might have been more like some kind of stupid test…just to see what Larry was made of. If he'd begged or tried to run away and leave me there or…or if he hadn't invited Bean in even after thinking he was going to die, Bean probably would have kicked his ass. Not really hurt him, you know; just enough to make his point. Well, screw you, you big bully; he passed with flying colors!" She raised a toast towards Larry.
"That's the kind of thing Bean does?"
"Oh, you bet your booty." She narrowed her eyes at the head table. "Say, uh…did Larry figure out what that bandanna was about?"
Vanessa creased her forehead. "Bandanna? He didn't mention that."
"Oh, he probably threw it in the trash—never mind. Another of Bean's stupid little attempted mindfucks, I guess."
"Look, I actually wanted to talk to you so I could thank you."
"Thank me?"
"For not turning Larry down flat. I know that you might eventually have to mention that you're not planning to enter into an archaic feudal-patriarchal institution consisting of one person owning the body and procreation rights of another, but at least now he knows you don't have a problem with his ethnicity, or his sexuality. He's actually not feeling too bad about the whole thing right now."
"His sexuality? Oh…that he once, uh, slept with a man. 426, to be exact." Rally squinted and stuck her tongue out the corner of her mouth, her head spinning with the effort of processing Vanessa's vocabulary.
"Yeah, something like that. He was glad you didn't try to bring that up when the subject of your past was on the table."
"Oh, c'mon. Why would I? If he really liked men better than women, you'd think he'd have figured that out by now. Anyway, Lin Shaoqi is dead." Rally threw the last of her drink to the back of her throat. "Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead!"
"Yes, I guess he is. They haven't found his remains, you know." Vanessa shuddered slightly.
"His remains? After they got incinerated, crushed, and dumped into the bay? I'd be pretty fucking surprised if they had!" Rally cackled and gave Vanessa a hug around the shoulders. "To hell with him anyway, the self-important jerk. Don't start thinking about ghosts—it fucks up your priorities, believe me. Speaking of which, you did end up bringing, um, a friend?"
"My new roomie. She's over there talking to Emerald." Vanessa nodded with a shy smile.
"I don't want to be politically incorrect or anything, Vanessa, but she's really cute."
"Isn't she, though?" Vanessa let out a dreamy sigh. "But we agreed to more or less stay in the closet tonight, so I don't think we'll risk dancing with each other in front of my parents."
"They might not even notice." Rally leaned back in her seat. "Look, he's still got his adoring fan club around him. I wonder which girl he's going to try to nail this time. Though I guess he might not do it right where your mom and dad are watching."
Vanessa looked startled.
"Naw, it's OK. He won't grope the twins or anything—that's one thing you don't have to worry about with Bean! The stupid bastard's just hot to trot tonight, I guess, and it doesn't much matter what he can grab as long as it's female, over eighteen and dumb enough to fall for his stupid crap. At least Sue woke up in time—she could have woken up in the wrong fucking bed!"
Vanessa made an awkward face. "One of our cousins said that she heard you tell Bean off while he was dancing with you. Something about not being a, um, a slut."
"Yep, she heard right."
"Even though Bean apparently has a criminal reputation of some sort, I don't like to judge people by their relationship to the oppressive forces of the crypto-fascist police state, especially when they're disadvantaged urban males belonging to a racial minority. In other words, I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt—"
"Don't bother."
"So he was propositioning you for sex?" Vanessa looked even more uncomfortable. "And you were angry with him for doing it even though you've apparently slept with him under different circumstances? I'm kind of dancing all around a very personal question that might reflect on your relationship with your friend May but has some relevance both to my individual situation and to my brother's stated intentions regarding—"
"Well…uh…" Rally flushed and poured a tall one. "To tell you the absolute truth, if you want to use the physical-contact-to-orgasm definition I'm running about fifty-fifty…well, OK, more like seventy-thirty on strict mathematical principles, with the decision unfortunately going to you-know-who." She took a deep breath and a long drink. "Let's just say that I seem to have a flexible answer to your question but also that I can still keep count with no problem. Of course if it were up to Bean, I'd never screw anyone other than him again." Rally giggled—oh, wouldn't he like to know what she and Wojohowicz had just been doing in the toilet? "Other men, I mean!"
"Larry was already sure that was why Bean was here. He's afraid you might end up saying yes."
"Oh, come on! Do I look that fucking stupid?"
"It's not that he doesn't want you to be happy in the way you see fit. Nothing like that. He's just worried about Bean. How he might treat you, that is." Vanessa leaned a little closer. "I talked to your friend Roy Coleman. Back when Bean was at large with the drug money."
"He's still at large with drug money. It's only twelve mil this time instead of that fucking $500,000. It's the story of his stupid fucking life."
"Did he assault you?"
Rally flushed. "No. Speaking of stupid fucking, I was stupid enough to fuck him of my own accord. I told Larry that." She blinked and rubbed her eyes, growing aware that her blood-alcohol percentage was probably on a level with Smith's. Was she repeating herself?
"I know. I wasn't sure you told him the truth." Vanessa sighed and sat back. "I see you did."
"Of course, he's been stalking me ever since…can't get rid of him no matter how nasty I am to him!"
"What? What's he been doing?"
"Oh, hanging around the city…following me wherever I go…staking out the hospital while I was there. And of course tonight, the bum was lurking behind the dumpsters instead of coming in the front door even when he was invited. Doesn't have the balls to call my number, but he moons around outside buildings and nurses grudges."
Vanessa looked frightened. "That guy is stalking you? Holy crap, what a nightmare. You want some of my larger cousins to walk you to your car? I mean, uh, when you're in better shape for driving?"
"No, no. He'd probably take that as a provocation. I have to make it crystal clear to him all by myself that I am not going to weaken, or I'll never see the end of it. Anyway, thanks for the nice concealable firearm, even if it doesn't have any ammo in it right now. I'll feel better just having that on me."
"I guess you will." Vanessa got up and touched Rally's shoulder. "Look, I'm not saying I wouldn't have liked you as a sister-in-law. But I think you've made the right decision, even though I know Larry wouldn't feel the same. You're not the same kind of people. He may think he loves you, but he doesn't understand you, not really. I'm not talking about national or ethnic origins, spiritual beliefs, basic value systems or personal tolerance of differences in all the above, of course."
"I know you aren't." Rally reached up and patted Vanessa's hand. "But there can be a lot of different kinds of people in a family, I hope."
"Oh, you bet. Real grab bag of Sams as it is." Vanessa bent over, dropped a light kiss on the top of Rally's head and stood up. "Good night, sister. Dad's adopted you, so that's definitely good enough for me." She smiled. "You know, I always wanted a sister who could kick any man's ass."
"Most men, maybe. There are one or two I'm still not sure about. Good night, sister!"
The Sams started cleaning up the remains of the event, with help from some of the young men who were still hanging around and two workers from the party rental company. The band played a few more tunes for the one or two couples left on the dance floor, and at 1:05 A.M., they said good night and turned off the sound system. Rally looked up from the cardboard box she was idly filling with empty whiskey bottles and saw Bean still standing near the stage, holding on to Wojohowicz's arm. She looked exhausted, her head drooping.
Rally hefted the box, handed it to one of the young men to take out to the recycling containers in back, and hunted for stray glasses with another box under her arm. She found two on the carpet near the restrooms and giggled at the memory of jerks with wet trousers. Wandering back towards the kitchen with her haul, she spotted a few more used glasses on a table near the main doors, which stood ajar. Through the gap she thought she glimpsed two people in the dimly lit vestibule. A woman protested in a low voice—it was Wojohowicz.
What the hell was Bean up to now? Did Wojohowicz need reinforcements? She set the box down and moved a little closer. It wasn't two people, exactly—it was their reflections in the big mirror than hung on the wall opposite her. They stood right under the shaded light, so their faces were clear against a dark background. Unless they happened to look at the mirror, they couldn't see her watching.
Bean stood with a hand planted on the wall, leaning over Wojohowicz. His head bent lower and his face turned to hers. A few more locks of his hair slipped down to conceal his eyes; he was whispering to her. The expression on her face gave Rally a pang. Wojohowicz looked up, temptation and desire shining in her eyes, and gave a tiny, apologetic shake of the head. Obviously he was urging her to let him spend the night at her apartment.
Wojohowicz reluctantly extricated herself from his grasp and moved a little distance away. She spoke to him, her spine straightening, and Bean rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall in a careless pose.
After all, she was an FBI agent. She took her job seriously. Harboring a wanted criminal, no matter how high her boss's private opinion of him, probably wasn't on the agenda. But Rally could tell she wanted to and was afraid she would give in anyway; her posture was consciously rigid and unbending. Poor girl. Bean stood up and captured her, a hand on her arm.
Rally began to turn away, disgusted with herself for even caring what he did. Wojohowicz had made her own bed in any case.
Bean's gaze swiveled. For an instant he looked straight into Rally's eyes. She froze—he had been watching her in the mirror just as she had been watching him. He yanked Wojohowicz into his embrace, bent her backwards and pressed her lips open with his.
Rally gasped and grabbed the heavy door for support, her head whirling. She wondered if she was going to be sick. This was going too damn far! Fooling around all night, trying to get her goat or score a few points was bad enough. Now he was using another woman like a bludgeon against her. Only her sudden fury with Bean for such a callous act kept her from crying out in pain and jealousy.
Wojohowicz's arms crept up around Bean's neck, and then she pushed on his shoulders and broke the kiss. He raised his head and let her stand up again, but didn't remove his arms from around her waist. Trembling, she put a hand on his chest and raised her face. Probably her defenses were nearly shot; the next kiss would overcome every scruple she had left, because it sure didn't look like Bean had lost his touch. No woman who wanted to keep her sanity should let that man get his lips on her more than once.
He bumped Wojohowicz's hips with his and backed her up. They moved into Rally's direct field of view, not three yards away.
If Bean had stabbed her in the heart and forced the blade straight through her to pin her like a butterfly, she might have understood why she was unable to look away or move. And why the pain was so sharp. Bean bit Wojohowicz's neck; her eyes closed and her mouth opened. Rally tightened her jaw to suppress a moan.
So he'd felt something like this when he had watched Larry kiss her? He'd done this to teach her a lesson? She longed to fling the door wide open and call Bean out for the heartless bastard he was. But would she do that from an unselfish desire to pull another woman back from the brink, or because she still wanted to run off that cliff herself? She seemed to plunge into thin air; her mouth distended in a silent cry.
Bean darted a glance straight at her, for a little longer this time, and Rally saw something flare in his eyes. She wished she had been able to conceal her feelings from him, but knew she had broadcast them in every detail. He turned his attention to the panting Wojohowicz, said something to her with a cruel smile curling his lips, and her expression changed.
Shock, distaste, even fear. Avoiding his obvious feint at another kiss, Wojohowicz averted her face. She spotted Rally and shoved Bean away.
"Vincent…um…well, good night." She brushed past, obviously deeply embarrassed, and scooped up her coat and purse. When she had gone, Rally turned to Bean with fists planted on her hips.
For a moment she breathed hard and gritted her teeth at him, speechless with anger. He looked at her with a strange expression, as if he had found something he had been searching for all night but wasn't sure what to do with it now that he had it. Seeming to fix on an idea, he wiped lipstick off his face, gripped one fist in the other hand as if to lend himself resolve and opened his mouth to speak. Rally cut him off.
"Proud of yourself? Trying to worm in through a woman's weak spot so you can hide from the police on her nickel? You know she'd lose her job if anyone found out! God, what a mercenary you are."
Bean's expression closed as tightly as his fists. "I think I was just leavin'," he replied with a sneer. He picked his armored jacket up off the floor where it lay, shook it out and put it on.
"So leave. You got what you came for, I guess, or at least most of it. Get the hell out of here before you ruin EVERYBODY'S life! Why did you decide to show up here anyway? Looking for free booze and random tail? Hoping to make Larry wet his pants in public?"
Bean bumped the door with his shoulder to force it open, hands hidden in his jacket pockets and the sneer frozen on his face. She followed and jogged through the parking lot after him, still on a rant. Cold night air hit her in the face.
"You are such a monumental jerk! What did that prove anyway, that you're scarier than he is? He's seen a hell of a lot worse than stupid ol' YOU! And he's a thousand times more of a man than—"
"Save it, babe." He half-turned his head to throw her a wicked snarl and clattered down some steps to the sidewalk. "I know the score. You like that kid just fine, and he's sure got a heavy case for ya. An' a good-lookin' puss and a straight business and family up to his ass. Whatcha waitin' for?"
Bean disappeared around the corner of the building. Rally turned it a few seconds later, but he was already fifty yards down the street.
"Wait!" She shed her heels, ran three-quarters of a block barefoot and skidded to a stop on the pavement; Bean strode for his car.
"What the hell you want?" He dug for his keys as he stood by the midnight-blue Corvette, an ugly blackish green in the streetlight's yellow glare. Pain creased his face, but she didn't care. He deserved every bit of pain he could feel.
"I'm not finished! How dare you assume—how dare you think you know anything about me? Or Larry either? Bean…" She stopped, panting with anger and upset and something else that disturbed her even more. "…I told him I didn't love him."
"Yeah?" His tone said he didn't think that was much of a consideration.
"He asked me to stay in San Francisco, and you might be right about one thing. If I hadn't interrupted him, I think he was going to ask me to marry him."
The ache in Bean's expression increased to agony for a fleeting moment and he flung open his driver's door.
"Hey! I'm trying to tell you something!"
"It's a damn good offer, babe," he said with a caustic snap. "Better get back there and kiss him some more before he changes his mind!"
"No, I'm not going to. I think he already realizes my answer is no. It's going to stay no, because although I think he could make some woman a really good husband, she's not going to be me. I'm going back to Chicago and I'm going to be a bounty hunter and I don't love him even though if I'd met him at almost any other time in my life it's possible I could have loved him." Rally looked down at the sidewalk, her eyes stinging. "He deserves that. I let him kiss me because of that, OK? And why the hell this is any of your business I don't know, you…you idiot, because this is all YOUR fault, but I've told you. There."
She stood a moment, breathing hard, and turned to walk away.
"My fault? What the hell you mean?" He came right up behind her with a couple of long strides. Hands landed on her shoulders, pulling her around. "Rally? You wouldn't say yes 'cause of me?" Some kind of incredulous hope in his face—she was horrified she had let so much slip, but could not restrain herself any longer.
"Do the math, Bean!" She burst out in the furious, wretched tears she had been holding back for hours and struck his hands away. "You…you've ruined any chance I ever had of a nice, normal life, you know that? I turned down the sweetest, smartest, cutest guy I've ever met, because I'd already cast my pearls before swine and didn't save anything for anyone else. I couldn't give him something I already lost…or gave away for free. I'm just a moron, I guess. Must be catching!"
"Gave it to me for free?" His mouth contorted and he took a step backwards. "That's why you wouldn't marry the guy? 'Cause you couldn't give him…something…you already lost?"
"That's exactly what I just said! Get a CLUE!"
"No—no, wait a minute—R-Rally, quit crying, sweetheart—you know I've been tryin' to pay that off somehow the whole damn time I've—"
"Pay it off? How the hell do you think you can pay me off? Don't you know what I m-m-mean?" She jammed her hands to her mouth and sobbed. Why wouldn't he say the words so she didn't have to? Had he really never felt like that about her at all?
"'Course I do!" His voice sounded like a rusty chainsaw. "I shoulda got the hell out while I still could, but I didn't. Guess that does make it my fault." Bean ground his teeth while she wept from the depths of her broken heart. "Stop crying, dammit. I'm tellin' you, Vincent, stop it before I—" He covered his ears and bent double. "That's how I got in this mess in the first place! Couldn't walk away from a cryin' woman!"
She gulped and sniffled to a halt, her face wet and mascara smearing on her fingers. "All right. Fine. I've stopped."
Bean leaned on the roof of his car with his head hanging low, cleared his throat with a painful sound and tried to shove his hair out of his face. All emotion seemed to drain out of her with her tears; her shoulders slumped and she closed her eyes for a moment. Weariness overwhelmed her. Bed, now, and probably a ferocious hangover to look forward to in the morning. She couldn't remember ever having drunk so much in one evening, though now she felt more sodden than blasted. She would definitely have to get May to drive the Cobra home.
"It's all right, Bean. I should never have expected you to ask me anything more than to run off to a hotel and go all night. I mean, I should be used to that by now, shouldn't I?"
He looked up, brows knotted. "Ask you what?"
"It doesn't matter. I…I'm just a woman, that's all. I might pack a gun and drive a fast car and make a living taking crooks to jail, but I've still got a few things in common with the average girl. Silly ideas, maybe." She badly needed to blow her nose and wash her face, so she headed back to her abandoned shoes.
"What ideas, baby?" He spoke as gently as he probably could manage, but it still came out as a hoarse croak. "Tell me, huh? I'm listenin'."
"I don't think I can right now. I don't trust myself." Heels squeezed on to swollen feet again, she wobbled upright. "I've drunk way too much, I'm at the bottom of the tank with nothing left on the gauge, and…and if you said or did the wrong thing just one more time tonight, I think the camel's back would break." She turned away. "Good night, Bean."
Bean didn't reply. Rally allowed her eyes to return to him for a moment as she stumbled back towards the corner.
He stood stone-still, staring at the ground. Like day following night, a faint hopeful light chased blank misery from his face, and then succumbed to darkness again.
