Chapter 6: Another Attempt At Lunch

Mercedes couldn't blame him. She would've the exact same thing had she been in Tommy's situation. She would never be in Tommy's situation, of course, for she didn't have an identical twin running around and wreaking havoc.

"Move," Tommy said, grabbing one of the guns and gesturing at the hall. "Now."

"Where are you taking him?" Mercedes asked, following Tommy and the other Vercetti out of the guest room.

"Cellar," said Tommy, keeping his eyes trained on his twin. Mercedes had to break into an almost run to keep up with the two brothers. "Diaz built a couple of cells there to fuck with his men's heads if they screwed up."

"Sounds just like him," said Mercedes, bending down to pick up one of her high-heeled shoes when she came across it.

Nicky Vercetti snorted loudly. "And now you're gonna do just the same as this Diaz fucker, Thomas?" he said.

"Shut the fuck up," Tommy growled.

"Make me," Nicky taunted and Mercedes flinched when Tommy rammed the butt of the gun into the back of Nicky's head. The other Vercetti stumbled, crying out, and fell against the wall. Tommy surveyed the whole thing with distaste and Mercedes shrugged, hunting down her other shoe.

"Let's go," Tommy said when Nicky made no move to get up again, and he grabbed his twin's arm. "We ain't got time to dawdle here. I still haven't had lunch."

"Fuck you," Nicky spat and when he touched the back of his head, his fingers came away red.

"No, fuck you, dear brother. What'd you do with my money?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Nicky yanked himself free and glared at Tommy.

"We do remember who has the gun, right?" Tommy waved the Mac around.

"If you kill me, you won't know anything."

"Who said anything about killing? I was thinking about maiming."

"Well, don't," said Mercedes, drawing both brothers' attention. "You'll get blood all over the carpet and we just had it cleaned after the Diaz fiasco. Tommy." She put a hand on his arm and felt the tension there. "Let's just lock him up first, then we can figure out what to do with him. If I learned one thing from my father, it's that nobody gets very far with acting on rash decisions."

He looked at her steadily and she gave him an encouraging nod. Tommy Vercetti was no fool. Fools wouldn't have managed to control Vice the way he was doing right now. He might be the smartest man she knew, aside from her father, and she saw he knew she was right.

A few minutes later, Nicky Vercetti was safely locked away in one of Diaz' old, dank, stinking cells, with four Vercetti gang members standing guard outside the door. Tommy had smirked before slamming the door shut, and Nicky had given him the finger.

Now Mercedes, still bare-footed, and Tommy were making their way back to the bar room, where Tommy poured first himself, then Mercedes, a stiff drink, which he knocked back in one go.

"You should put shoes on," said Tommy, pouring himself another vodka. "Why are you carrying them instead of wearing 'em?"

She blinked down at her hands. "I don't know," she said, letting them drop to floor and slipping her feet into them. "There. Better?"

He shrugged and sat down heavily on the couch.

"I thought you'd be happy," she said.

He frowned at the floor. "Still haven't got my money back."

"We'll get it out of him," she said.

"Still haven't beaten the shit out of him."

"We'll get around to that."

"Still haven't fucked," he said and there was a glint in his eyes when he looked up at her.

Mercedes laughed and put her glass down on the bar before climbing into his lap. Tommy leaned back onto the couch, his hands already hiking up her skirt, his breath hot against her lips. "You don't waste any time, do you?" he whispered.

"No," she whispered back, undoing the buttons on his jeans, "I don't."