Chapter 10: Looks Do Kill
Ah, home was a sight for sore eyes and Beatrix stayed there for a good week. Vernita stopped by during the middle of week to do a check in but other than that Bea was completely alone. It was a welcome feeling and she indulged in it. It was nearing the middle of the second week since their escapade in Hong Kong Everyone had gone off and did their own thing for that highly deserved vacation. All the Vipers had recovered from various scrapes and bruises as if nothing had happened.
On this particular day, the sun was high in the sky predicting it to be late in the afternoon. Beatrix Kiddo was riding down the dusty rode towards Bill's hacienda. She wasn't called there on any type of business but more of a casual visit. She had been on a leave of absence and now she had to return to reality. Fucking reality. Her car came to a screeching halt as she pulled into the driveway. She stepped out clad in a pair of blue jeans and a slimming peach colored t-shirt. Her boots padded lightly against the ground as she approached the door way. A long slender finger extended and pressed on the doorbell. The familiar small form of Nikishi answered the door. She smiled politely up at Beatrix, "Hello Beatrix," she gave a small bow, "..Bill is doing errand...he'll return soon. He thought you might come here soon....follow," she signaled for Beatrix to follow her and led the tall blonde through the well known house. She led her to the spare room that she had used for over a month as her own. "Bill leave present." With that Nikishi gave another small bow and left the room.
Sitting on the neatly made bed was a highly polished samurai sword. The scabbard was gleaming black. It was silver engraved with the twisting form of a deadly looking Black Mamba. The hilt was hatched in matching silver and black. The blade was shined to a blinding glint. At the bottom of the blade, where it met the hilt, a small Black Mamba snake was raised in the metal. Next to this there was a small engraving.
'Kiddo, For A Job Well Done. Love, Bill'
Next to the sword there was a small note written in Bill's distinctive handwriting.
"Thought you deserved a little gift for your excellent efforts. You'd better not take this the wrong way and don't even try and give it back. Oh, and please don't cut off any of your own limbs...that would make me very sad.
Bill."
It wasn't a Hanzo sword but it was pretty damn close. A fine weapon. Such things did not come cheaply. A high quality hand made samurai sword cost at least 10 grand. Then again, Bill had his contacts, but the effort was obvious. Beatrix held the note in her hand reading it aloud to herself and than rereading the words in her head once or twice or maybe a third time. Either way she eventually folded it back up, following the creased corners and stuck it into her jean pocket. Blue eyes soon settled on the samurai sword. Leave it to Bill to supply such a present. Her first instinct was to find an excuse for not accepting the gift. But, as stated in the note, she wasn't allowed to try. So, she'd just have to deal with the fact that she'd have to keep it.
She wanted to act like an excited school girl but she was far beyond those years. Suppressing her excitement she leaned over, laced her fingers around the hilt and held it up, held vertical to her own body. Her mouth fell open in awe as she tilted the blade to stare into the casting reflection. It was no Hanzo sword but it was beautiful. It was perfect. It was her own sword. Smiling wide, a true smile that came rare for Kiddo, she rose up the sword and began taking quick, skillful, slashes at the air. This of course was an effort to try it out seeing air was her only opponent. Beatrix had been practicing with her newly acquired sword for a few minutes when Bill's voice cut in. "Not too shabby of a blade huh?"
He was leaning on the doorframe in one of his typical southwest looking shirts buttoned halfway up, black jeans and cowboy boots. Who knew how long he had been standing there. He pushed some hair out of his eyes, "Thought it was about time you get a sword of your own and I couldn't stand the thought of you using some cheap pawn shop quality hack blade." He smiled smugly, "This," he gestured to the sharp blade emitting from Beatri'x hands "....will easily take a man's head off." He said it in a manner that implicated he may have indeed tested that theory out. "And all of that aside, it seemed appropriate..." he added in a softer tone of voice. "It is a beautiful sword if I say so myself."
Beatrix casually held the blade out in front of her, her body turned in Bill's direction, as if to strike him but she was really just positioning as if she were. She never really would. She cocked her head to the side, a few strands of hair falling into her face. That smile still played across her features. "How should I go about thanking you for this one?" Her words were stated as an indirect question. It was a ponder to herself. She whipped the blade around with a soft swoosh and settled it gingerly to the bed. Bea than turned and took sauntering steps over to the door frame. Blue eyes peered at him questionably, numerous thoughts running through her pretty head. "I'm not taking this 'gift' the wrong way. My mind doesn't work like that--but--I am going to tell you that it wasn't necessary." She tilted her head down and narrowed her eyes on him. "This has made me very happy, Bill. And you know I don't get happy over a lot of things. So, if a simple thank you doesn't suffice the occasion at least know that I'm happy. For now."
Bill watched her in that intense manner of his, chuckling at her comments. He waved a dismissive hand, "A simple thank you is more than enough Kiddo. It's important that happiness, even small bits of it, be dispensed every now and then in this cruel world." He gave her an amused smile. Beatrix had never been one to accept much generosity. It was an enduring trait. But Bill had to guess that she had never received much growing up. For her, everything often seemed to warrant a price. In truth, Beatrix was probably being extremely realistic and Bill could easily understand this. He knew the rules of the tough game. Yet, there were times...rare as they may be, that those rules were broken. Bill pushed off the doorframe, switching gears quite suddenly, "Come out front, you've got to see this!" He grabbed her by the hand, like an excited child and led her through house onto the front patio.
Parked out front was a brand new black Viper GTS Coupe, still bearing dealer plates. The glare off the polished surface was almost blinding in the midday sun. "My new toy," Bill quipped almost giddily strolling over to the car and placing a loving hand on the hood. Bill loved cars...he had a ridiculous amount of them. The more exotic, powerful and expensive the better. He almost looked like some elated boy on Christmas morning. "Guy cut me a great deal...."
Of course, Beatrix was most likely not as passionate about cars as he, but Bill seemed completely oblivious to that at the moment. Beatrix stood there in her familiar demeanor. Arms crossed over her chest, an amused grin on her face, and blue hues squinted through the sunrays to view the new car. She was nowhere near as passionate about cars as Bill was. A car was a car. As long as you had one to drive you places it was all good. Slender brows raised a fraction as Bill supplied loving gestures to the inanimate object. "Oh, Bill--she is a beauty," she chimed in trying to lace her tone with more excitement than sarcasm. He had been correct before. Even in a cruel world one had to be supplied with a form of happiness. Whether it is a sword or a car, in this case. She wouldn't deny that Bill deserved as much happiness as she did. He was just willing to accept it more openly than she was. She watched him a second longer. At that moment she could picture a sign over Bill's head reading 'classic man'. He was 'the man' but he was man and like all men they loved their cars. At this she could no longer contain her words. "And I thought I was being mature when I didn't go all fucking giddy about my present," sarcasm and mockery added into the smart ass comment.
When it came down to it, Bill could easily walk away from all his material goods. In fact, he had done this a number of times during his lifetime. He always managed to get back on top. But, on the other hand he was not one to turn down the finer things in life. He openly welcomed whatever goods were allowed him in his economic station. In some ways he figured he deserved it simply for being who he was. It wasn't greed it was more along the lines of expected. That entitled those who worked for him to receive that good fortune in turn. After all, without them he wouldn't where he was today. He was the first to admit that. Bill began wiping off a smudge on the hood with the corner of his shirt, as if it were a cancerous growth. He laughed at Beatrix's words, "Baby, I never claimed to be mature. In fact," he squinted at her, grinning, "I hope never to be. Maturity can be extremely boring at times. I think all men are cursed with this." He went back to the smudge with his shirt, "This problem all comes down to women. Men do whatever they possibly can to gain power and in turn they gain wealth. This allows them to get women. To do this they step over other men, hurt women, their own children.....whatever it takes. They often claim this all under the guise that they are ambitious but that's just a crock of bullshit. In the end, all of that was simply to get women." He squinted at her again, "Seems silly to me at times. But hell," he shrugged, "I guess I'm not one to talk." He busied himself with another invisible smudge.
Bea remained in her current position and listened intently to one of Bill's bizarre and yet logical ramblings. "Let me get this straight," she began, her stance taking on a more haughty appeal. "Men buy all this shit in hopes of getting a woman?" A slender brow rose in hilarity. Deep in blue eyes a steady fire was growing. There were times when Bea understood Bill's logic but this time she was taking it the wrong way. "If that is the case than the sword, the display of the new car--is all to get a woman. And in this particular case, that woman would be; me. I'm sorry to break it to you, 'baby'." She leaned forward to cast a shadow over his form. "But I'm not like most women. I won't go drooling over that new car nor will I beg to get in your pants. Actually--" She rose up a single digit as he turned to her. "What I will do--" Brows knit together; blue hues took a fierce light. "And this all women do, is slap you. Nice and hard too." Her hand picked up. "But, unlike most women in this situation I am too chicken shit to strike you." She dropped her hand back to her side in evident disgust.
Bill was completely taken back by Beatrix's reaction. He had just been rambling, sensibly, but it was still rambling. Apparently she had taken it a little too personally. He watched her closely as she descended upon him like some bloodthirsty hawk...his eyes averted to her raised hand. What in the hell was this? For a man who spent a good part of his life continually around women, Bill often still underestimated their unexpected reactions. "Whoa, whoa!" He threw his hands up, "That's not what I meant......just, hold on..." He stepped away from the car, as if to protect it. "I wasn't addressing you directly. I was simply making a blanket statement. You can't deny that isn't true to a great extent." Thus far he was remaining calm; there was no trace of anger in his tone or face. "If you feel the need to slap me ala 1950's housewife style....go ahead, I can take it," he thrust his face towards her, "But keep in mind, I think your being far too defensive."
As his face moved forward she found her own face tilting back. Maybe she had become too defensive about his shitty ramblings but there could be hidden truth within. As indirect as it had sounded she still took it as having some directness towards herself. Beatrix had a character flaw of taking a few things too directly. One of the many reasons she and Elle didn't get along. She took a small step towards him and straightened up to her full height. She glared into those brown eyes and her mouth stayed in a tight line. Without a word she leveled her hand back up. She than swung her hand horizontally, with a lightening speed towards his cheek. But, inches before her hand made contact she halted and gingerly rested her open palm to cup his cheek. Surprisingly, Bill flinched when she changed her mind and softly rested her palm on his face. Bill rarely flinched. He blinked, a subtle look of surprise settled on his features. It was impossible to tell if he was surprised at his own reaction or Beatrix's.
Her head canted down. "Keep in mind; that I did not slap you because I don't think you could handle it--emotionally."
"You don't think I can handle it emotionally?" He said evenly after a moment. He seemed to mull this over in his mind for a few seconds. "And what exactly makes you think I can't handle being slapped by a wrongly offended woman. Believe me, your holding a ticket in the hundreds on that one Kiddo." A bit of annoyance was beginning to creep into his voice. Perhaps because he knew what Beatrix was getting at. Of course, he'd never admit that. He raised his eyebrows at her, in an somewhat irritated, 'So?' expression.
Beatrix knew exactly where she was taking this and she knew he knew but she was going to jump out and clarify it. As to being the right decision was to be debated. She leaned her face in close to his. Slender brows rose and her features took on a mixture of emotion. "Cause I'm not any women who's taken offense to your words. I'm your woman, your precious Black Mamba and knowing that I would willingly strike you thaws a hole in your icy heart."
Bill froze, as if he wasn't frozen already. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. This was a truly rare sight. He simply stared at her for a few long seconds in disbelief. For once Bill couldn't lie his way out of this one. What she had spoken was the truth....even though he'd never really admitted it to himself before. To have it thrown out in the open like this completely threw him. Threw him so much he couldn't even attempt a half ass excuse that Beatrix wouldn't believe anyways. She knew him too well. His woman? The statement bounced around in his mind like something both compelling and dangerous. He wanted to think about that allot more but the longer he stood like this, the more of an advantage she had on him. "I....," he started lamely. Discomfort did not suit him well. "I...ah....I guess you've got me on that one Kiddo...." it was painful to even utter such words....... perhaps a little liberating as well.
This was pure satisfaction for Beatrix and she beamed with it. Bill was a man of many words and to be at loss for them was truly an accomplishment on her part. Telling the truth was a rarity for Beatrix but when she did manage the deadly task she served it cold and blatant. "I rest my case," she stated bluntly, arms folding over her chest. "Now that we've gotten all of that bull out in the open." Her gaze shot from him to the new car with a mild distaste. "Why don't you give me a ride." Ah, such a sentence could be interoperated in so many ways but she knew Bill to be sensible and mature and with what just happened he wouldn't dare counter that rhetorical question.
Bill blinked as if to break himself out of some mental cage. Beatrix could be far beyond her years at times. Even though the past few minutes had been a little unsettling, he respected her for being so open. Most women didn't seem to gain a handle on that until it was too late. This whole thing deserved much more thought, but he attempted to shove it away for later.
At Beatrix's easily to misinterpret comment, Bill simply nodded. "I'd love to. You're one of the few people who doesn't flat out refuse to get into a car with me." This was in reference to Bill's very capable but very frightening driving skills. Beatrix had always seemed to like things just a tad dangerous and his driving definitely fell into that category. Shaking himself of any further thoughts, Bill opened the door of the GT for Beatrix. "Wait until you see how fast I can get this baby up to in a long stretch of dessert," he smiled wickedly. Getting into the driver's seat, he put on his sunglasses and with delight that only a man can truly capture he revved the engine, pulled down the break, and slammed the car into gear. "I know just the place," he shot a glance at Beatrix before roaring out of the driveway, a large plume of dusk in their wake.
The car ride had been an experience. Bill was a speed demon when it came to driving cars and Beatrix had sped a few times in her life but never to such an extent. Having been in the car with him numerous times she took an immunity to the fast pace. His new car did drive like a dream. Slick and fast, very suiting for a man of Bill's stature. Even Beatrix could take in the car's features for what it was worth.
They had taken a break at one of the smaller canyons during their drive. Conversation mostly consisted of reviewing what each of them had been doing in one another's absence. A few jokes and friendly bickering pursued. The conversation from earlier seemed to dissipate and they resorted back to a relationship of boss/employee and possible friends.
It began to grow late, the sun dipping over the horizon casting the sky with vibrant colors of pink, yellow, and reds when they decided to head back. When the car pulled and parked back into the driveway, Beatrix followed beside Bill back inside the hacienda. Her mood had returned to being a mellow happiness and her facade was content. "I may just pick up something on my way back home," answered Bea to his question about staying for dinner. As they entered through the front door a subtle and low sobbing could be heard. Kiddo exchanged a worried glance. Her hand would have slipped down to grab for a weapon but she didn't have any on her. A cautious step inside and she turned her head. Blue eyes widened a fraction. The young Japanese door lady, Nikishi was curled up on the floor sobbing. A caring instinct kicked in and the tall blonde came to her side. "What happened?" The women began mindless babbling. "You need to settle down I can't--"
For Bill, the day had been one of the most enjoyable he had had in sometime.....of course, he wasn't going to openly admit this to Beatrix....but he made no attempt to hide it either. He was somewhat relieved that the vibes between them had settled down to something more within the norm. It was with some regret that they headed back. Upon arrival, Bill's mood took a turn for the worst. Nikishi was a tough woman...he wouldn't have put her in such a position if she hadn't been. But to see her reduced to a sobbing bundle was something of a shock. He stood stock still as Beatrix knelt at her side.
Her words were cut off by the clicking of boots on the wooden floor. She picked her head up quickly and her eyes settled on the strangers that were approaching. It was a group of two men, dressed in casual business suits. One was a few inches taller than the other with a rugged look about him. Brown hair and brown eyes, not entirely bad looking. The other had a darker brown hair and green eyes; his appearance was a little more appealing than the others. Immediately Bill was on the alert. He shoved aside the sudden rush of anger to replace it with logical thought. This was not the first time that somebody had broken into his place. He turned quickly at the sound of footsteps, all of his lingering questions suddenly answered.
"Honestly Bill, you need better servants. When I asked where you were this fucking bitch wouldn't tell me. I threatened her and she didn't peep," the man with the darker hair spoke. His voice was rough with a sand paper edge. Beatrix rose back up to her full height. Her head canted, a few locks of hair falling against her face.
"That's what she is told to do. Not tell shitheads like you certain information," Beatrix shot back. Perhaps it wasn't her place to speak but she hated womanizers.
"Aren't you the little viper," he chuckled coldly. "Why don't I try getting information from you?" He took a threatening step in Beatrix's direction. Blue eyes glared, hinting at that killer glint. "Touch me and I'll fucking kill you. And believe me, I'll make it hurt. A lot."
Bill watched this exchange intensely, unmoving and expressionless. He knew these men. They were past clients....nasty ones at that. Well, this was certainly no way to further seek out his services. He knew they were bad news from the start....but this was going way too fucking far. It was only when one of men took a step towards Beatrix that Bill moved. Taking a seemingly casual swift step he placed himself between the man and Beatrix. "I think I'm the one with all the information here," he said smoothly. He seemed undaunted by the man's physical presence. Again, when it came to Bill, it was often hard to decipher if he was just that damn good or he was simply lying out his ass. "Pretty sad boys.....threatening women who don't even know who you are or what you want. Of course, you realize I have a number of questions for you...the most prominent being what the fuck you are doing in my house? And I'm sure you're here for some other reason than to rough up my help and admire my decor. But, we'll get to that later." He made a small half turn, "Shall we start with drinks?"
The taller of the two men, who had yet to speak exchanged glances with the asshole who liked to do all of the talking. "Alright," the silent man spoke in a deep voice, "But just drinks...then business....."
"Very well," Bill made a watchful turn and strode towards the bar, "Pleasure before business as the old cliché goes..." He exchanged a quick look with Beatrix that communicated the complete opposite of the airy bullshitting he was currently distributing. Beatrix usually didn't hang around when Bill was with a client but for these assholes she was sticking around as a precaution. Bill could take care of himself but if they started any bullshit she'd more than happily kill them.
The drinks were served and the two men were now seated on the couch in the living room. A few casual sips were taken before the man with the darker hair, going by the name of Dan, spoke up first, "I do apologize for such an intrusion that we made earlier but--" He shrugged. "Putting aside all that bull shit let's get down to business." He sat up, set the drink aside and folded hands in his lap. "I have some pimp-ass I need taking care of. This guy's been threatening my business for quite awhile and I'm fucking fed up with it." He reached into a briefcase and pulled out a manila envelope, tossing it across to Bill. "He's pretty high up on the arch scale. Probably got himself a nice handful of body guards. I'm sure ya'll find more information in that there folder than I'm supplying."
Bill had taken a seat across the couch from the two men. In all respects he appeared completely relaxed; feet up on the coffee table, hand draped over the back of the couch, and the other holding a drink. In truth; he was ready to fucking kill these two jerk offs if they even breathed the wrong way. Having Beatrix here was certainly unorthodox, but, after what they had just walked in on, it was a welcomed addition. He caught the manila envelope and idly began leafing through it's contents as 'Dan' continued to speak. The other guy, 'John', sat silently next to his cohort, his eyes averting now and then to Bill's nearby Hanzo sword. Bill set aside the envelope with a tight frown.
Dan leaned back a little. "I got one request though. See, the last lil' assignment I paided ya for. That was done all nice and clean and I'm not sayin' that I didn't think it was done well. Just--" He placed a finger up to his chin. "I want a different style for this one. Something more--on the different side. Who was the one you sent last time? Oh, yes, Copperhead. Mmmhmm, yeah, she was all good but I want something less classic." He glanced over his shoulder. The tall blonde was nonchalantly leaning up against the bar. One arm on the counter top, the other holding to the drink in her hand, her head was canted slightly to the side in a minor curiosity as if she was really listening to what was being said. "What about that blonde pussy over there?" He turned back to Bill.
Slender brows rose and Beatrix immediately mouthed a 'hell no' in Bill's direction. It usually wasn't her place to pick and choose which assignments she went on but this time she had a gut feeling to voice or mouth her opinion.
'Dan's' proposal was a little odd. Then again, Bill had noticed the man's immediate affinity towards Beatrix. It still didn't entirely settle well. "A little less classic?" Bill replied slowly, "What could be more classic than a blonde pussy? That's right up there with cherry pie, hot rods, and a baseball game." He had thus far completely ignored Beatrix's mouthed words and glares. "I normally decide who I wish to send out on a particular assignment," he eyed 'Dan', "I don't run a whorehouse.....you simply cannot pick and choose depending on who gives you the quickest hard on. That being said," he leaned back, "....Black Mamba here is one of my best....she's more than capable of handling this assignment," he appeared to be mulling this over. "Give me a figure that ends in at least five zeros and I'll let you know....." Actually, Bill was still unsure about sending Beatrix on this one, but it was best to sound like a greedy bastard for now and make the decision later.
'John' reached down beside him and picked up a suitcase, which he handed to Dan. Dan took the suitcase, placed it on the table, and clicked it open to reveal the contents. Inside was an ungodly amount of cash. He grinned. "I think this will cover that and more."
That 'blonde pussy' had gone behind the bar counter to dispose of her empty glass. She than proceeded to lean forward against the countertop. Arms crossed daintily on the smooth surface, her back arched forward, a position she found comfortable and highly mock-worthy. Her facial features were tight and scornful. She knew this was business and that Bill worked professionally on the matter but had she ever stated a problem with an assignment? No. And this one time out of all of them he chose to ignore her opinion. Bastard.
Dan settled back on the couch as he watched intently as Bill reviewed the goods. Bill raised his eyebrows at the opened suitcase. After a moment, he took his feet off of the table and leaned forward to sift through the wads of money. There was a least $800,000.....all in $100's. Not the preferred denomination of criminal types, but it was money nonetheless. "Alright," Bill dropped a stack back into the pile, "...you've appeared to have gained back my attention." He glanced at Beatrix who was currently assuming that leaning position on the counter. "Black Mamba here will take care of your pimp-ass problem and any bodyguard that stands in her way." Funny how such things could be said so matter-of-factly, as if one was asking for a side of dressing. Bill rubbed his chin, frowning, "I can't say I'm very impressed by you gentleman's way of working but to each his own I suppose." He picked up the manila envelope and tossed in over onto the counter, it slid up against Beatrix's long fingers.
'John' remained silent the entire time, sitting straight backed...his hands folded in his lap. Obviously he wasn't exactly the life of any party. "Now," Bill began locking up the briefcase, "...is there anything else....requests, warnings what have you, which should be known about this target?" Dan casually rose up from his spot on the couch and turned to face Bill. Hands had moved to his pockets and he shrugged his shoulders. "Nope, I think we've got things settled."
Beatrix was still leaning up against the counter, blue eyes on the material her fingers were skimming through. Her facade stood emotionless but her eyes burned. Any warm feelings she had had towards Bill earlier in the day turned cold. She should have expected it.
"It was great doing business with ya, Bill." Dan motioned for John to get up and follow. He began slow steps across the way and past the counter. As his step traveled by Beatrix he teased, "See ya around-- Black Mamba."
Not bothering to look up from her new assignment Bea flipped him the finger and went back to her reviews undaunted. Dan chuckled lightly and descended back down the hallway. Soon after the familiar closing of the front door could be heard followed by the roar of an engine, than silence.
"Fucking cocksuckers," Bill swore viciously, kicking the suitcase off of the coffee table. "Not exactly one of my favorite parts of this job." He examined a fingernail, completely oblivious to Beatrix. "I swear, one of these days I'm just gunna quit all of this bullshit," he mumbled to himself, more words than actual meaning. He leaned back on the couch, hands behind his head, "Move down South somewhere." He turned, catching Beatrix's not so happy expression. "Don't sweat it Kiddo." he waved away her anger as if she was a small child, "This kind of shit happens all of the time."
The fact that Bill was dismissing her as if she were a toddler only added to her growing fury. She pushed the papers back into the folder and set it to the side. She pushed off the counter with her arms, hands tight to the edge, arms extended, her head tilted down. Beatrix finally spoke up in one of her softer, venomous tones, "Remember when I told you I was happy?" She quirked a brow in his direction. "Well, I'm sure as hell not happy and it's all thanks to you Bill." She dramatically pushed off the counter and took strides over to the couch. She stopped and hovered over him. "I never ask a lot from you. Fuck, I hardly ask a goddamn thing, but when I do I'd like to receive some recognition for it. You knew I didn't want to take this assignment but you went and assignment it to me anyway." During this her voice level had increased. "And I know it's not my fucking place to contradict you but I am. Deal with it." She glared. "Honestly, Bill--" She stopped there. Blue eyes burning. Ugh, fucking asshole.
Bill looked up at her towering form, hands still behind his head. He was fully aware of what he'd done and he knew she'd be mad. Maybe he'd baited her on purpose. Things had perhaps gotten a little too fuzzy for him. When things become uncomfortable it was simply easy to go back to what you knew like being a callus bastard. "I don't know where the small print was that stated that I was only supposed to make you happy." The old, 'you most hurt the ones you love' mantra entered his mind at this moment but he decided against stating anything that included 'love' in it. "Life's tough Kiddo...people are cruel at times. I thought you were already aware of that, but sometimes I wonder." Bill's tone dropped to something darker, as he leaned forward, "Sorry to break it to you, but you don't have the choice to take or not take whatever assignment you want. If that were the case I'd have more squabbling than there already is around here. That's not what you signed up for and that's not what I deal in. But," he raised a hand, "I value outside opinions and since we are playing this little honesty game here.....tell me honestly what you think. Although, I think I have a pretty damn clear idea already." She was right of course. He didn't have to sign her up. 'Dan's' little request was more hormonal driven than actual professional preference. It was a tough assignment, but nothing that any of the other members couldn't handle. Bill's choice had been purely physiological.
Arms crossed over her chest as her mind reeled with numerous thoughts. Beatrix hated him so much. A love hate relationship was so complicated. She wanted to tell him what a fucking asshole he was being when it really wasn't necessary. But, Kiddo knew that he knew that was and stating the obvious would be a penalty on her part. "Honestly, what I think," her tone still held an enormous amount of anger and she wasn't calming down. "I didn't like the looks of that asshole the second he went and openly threatened me. Who the fuck is stupid enough to threaten an assassin? Something isn't right in that man's head to be acting in that manner." She stared down at him, a deep frown set on her face. "I usually don't listen to my gut feelings nor do I follow my heart, or any of that bullshit. But I listened a few minutes and I was clearly being told not to take the assignment. Shit, I'm not saying I can't handle it. We both know I'm more than capable. You've even made that clear. But I have a bad feeling about this." She gave pause. Her head canted, strands of blonde hair falling into her face. Her voice dropped in volume, "Can you understand that?" Bill's expression softened somewhat. "Yes, I can understand that." He seemed to have backed off a little. "I agree with you, the guy's a total prick." He sat in silence for a few moments. She was right; the whole thing seemed a little off. He didn't really like the idea of Beatrix walking into something bad, but on the other hand, he couldn't let personal feelings get in the way of business. That was going too far. "Alright," he let out a breath, "If you don't want to do it, you don't have to. I'll send Elle instead. No hard feelings." He gave her a measuring look, "It's up to you Kiddo."
That just fueled her anger as he turned the tables. She wanted to lash out at him but kept her emotions leveled. Blue eyes stared hard and cold on him. Her expression tightened up as she thought over the proposition. She quickly rose a hand up as if dismissing her thoughts. "No, if you end up sending Elle she'll most likely fuck it up and I'll have to go in and clean up her mess." Bea glanced away from him. "I'll go," words stated bluntly. She turned back to him and extended a threatening finger. "But if I get screwed over for this I'm gonna blame you."
Bill chuckled, standing, "Now, that's more like it. I'd knew you do it." He flashed her a wide grin. "If something goes wrong," he shrugged, 'Feel free to blame me until the end of time. Blame I can handle, failure...I can't." Ignoring whatever reaction she was about to make, he strolled around the couch. "Damn, that's a hell of allot of dough for one guy." he picked up the envelope, "Must be a real asshole." He began shifting through the papers, without looking up, "Gives you a good chance to break in that sword eh?" He eventually glanced up at Beatrix, assessing her inevitable reaction.
If he was looking for a reaction he wasn't going to receive any. Her eyes were cold and features were emotionless. Instead Beatrix turned on her heels and headed down the hallway to the spare bedroom. Two minutes passed and she emerged back into the living room, sword in hand. Hand was clenched to the handle in a dainty manner as it swayed along side her body. Steps brought her over the table where she rudely snatched up the folder which if Bill had still been reviewing he wasn't anymore. Folder tucked under her arm and sword in hand she turned to leave. "I'll be flying out in the morning. Bye Bill."
And thus Beatrix left again on another assignment. After she had left his place, Bill admitted to feeling somewhat remorseful about his behavior. He had never butted heads so much with anybody than he did with Beatrix Kiddo. Most people who had butted back were no longer living. But as Bill was slowly finding out, there was something drastically different and, yes even a little mysterious about Beatrix. Something in him made him want to keep her at a safe distance. And that he was very good at. He was afraid that if she got too close that he wouldn't be able to let her go, and the ability to let go of things at the drop of a dime was simply part of Bill's makeup. This allowed him to care and even love all he wanted to but also allowed him to stay above it. Emotional survival tactics 101. Then, as in all things, there was a flipside. He simply could not allow somebody like Beatrix to slip away. He'd known enough women to know when an extraordinary one came along. She was smart. If he continued to be so hot and cold to her, she'd back away and shut herself off from him. Yet, Bill was far too old to completely change his ways. But, he could try........try to be nice....at least.
Beatrix Kiddo was in the shabby hotel room in northern California the following night. The room had walls of a red stripped wall paper that was peeling and the plaster on the ceiling looked as if any second it would fall. The carpet was a burgundy color of a low quality and rough to bare feet. In the middle of the room was a twin sized bed with a tacky flower print and there was bathroom with running water. As she began to unpack and load up her 9mm her thoughts steadily drifted. She despised when she let her mind run away especially when it ran to Bill. He was a complicated man and even as well as Beatrix knew him she still hit dead ends. She had a corny girlish dream of having the perfect boyfriend, living in a quaint home, children, and having a simple job. But these were foolish dreams and not in her character. Every once and awhile one was allowed to go out of the box. But, if she jumped too far from that box she knew she'd pay for it.
Exhaling a dramatic sigh she slipped the gun into her side holster and ruffled her peasant blouse of pale blues to conceal the weapon. Checking over to make sure she had everything Beatrix stepped to the mirror. She stared at her reflection, brows narrowing, as if her reflection were the enemy. At times she felt it was. She turned swiftly on her heels, boots padding against the carpet as she walked out.
The streets were crowded with a midnight rush of people. Most were pot heads and drunks just getting out of clubs. Beatrix had reviewed her sources accurately and knew for a fact that her target hung out at a few these clubs. She stopped and looked up. In bright pink neon bubble letters read: The Pussy-Cat.
"Splendid," Kiddo muttered sarcastically to herself as she weaved through the crowd to the inside of the bustling club. It was disgusting. She was never one for these types of things. Yes, Bea was wild but she put a different definition to the word. Blue eyes darted around the many faces. A glance to her watch. She had time. Her sauntering steps, evading check outs, she approached the bar and sat down to order a drink.
The bar was shaped in the typical club style "U" formation. A number of people were hanging around the bar, most of them sitting and a few lounging. The majority of them were men. The few women who were there seemed more than happy to be surrounded by male company. A short, balding bartender scuttled around frantically. He looked like he could have used some help. Annoyingly sleazy music played in the background, but the drone of voices was much more prominent.
Within a few minutes the rushed bartender managed to get around to asking the tall slender blonde what she wanted to drink. He seemed far too distracted by his own misery to care too much about whom he was serving. After he had delivered the blonde her drink, he scuttled over to the opposite side of the bar to serve the next customer.
This customer was a man who appeared to be in his early thirties. He had short brown hair, which was cut somewhat traditionally. He had a slightly long but very pleasant face, square aquiline nose, arching brows and a strong chin. It was hard to tell in the dim lighting, but he appeared to have blue eyes. A days worth of stubble gave him a slightly rugged but still wholesome look. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt that was just tight enough to show off his nicely shaped arms. It was hard to tell about the rest of his clothing, since he was sitting behind a bar but one would assume blue jeans or slacks of some sort. He appeared to be fairly tall. The bartender took the man's order and scuttled off. The man then went about looking around....this appeared to be his first time at the Pussy Cat. In his visual meanderings his gaze wandered across Beatrix. Upon spotting her he gave a pleasant but completely un-sleazy smile and a slight nod. Then his drink was delivered and he became momentarily preoccupied with it.
Beatrix had ordered herself a margarita. Traditional but with enough of a kick to get her thoughts in order but not enough to throw off her accuracy. Long white fingers were idly playing the wedge of lime that was decorated on the edge of her glass. Being in her profession it was easy to feel when eyes were upon her. Blue eyes looked up and caught the rather charming and polite smile she received. Deciding to be polite she flashed back a smile of greeting. Seeing his gaze move away she moved hers away as well and proceeded back to that lime wedge. A more unattractive man slid into the seat beside Kiddo and immediately spoke up his voice was rough and slurred from drinking, "Hey there beautiful."
"Please go away," Beatrix replied in a leveled tone. Her mood was sour to begin with and she was going to lash out sooner or later if she was tempted. "Why would I wanna go away?"
"Trust me, you do." The man just took this as invite to check out her breasts. His head leaning in close to her own. He smelled foul and her stomach churned. A growl of aggravation stuck in her throat. Casually she pricked off the lime from the glass and squeezed. The juice shot right into the man's bulging eyeballs. He squealed like a girl and sprinted off the stool and into the crowd. Bea laughed to herself and shook her head in disgust. "Fucker." From across there bar, there was a soft clapping sound. Apparently the man in the white t-shit had witnessed the whole thing. He was smiling broadly. After a moment, he stood and made his way over to where Beatrix was sitting. He moved casually, unobtrusively. "You don't mind if I sit here?" He gestured to the now vacant stool next to Beatrix, "Of course, I wanna ask first..." he smiled lopsidedly, tilting his head slightly, "Don't want to get any of that deadly lime juice in my eyes..." His voice was deep yet friendly with just the hint of a Southern drawl to it. "Oh god, I'm sorry...." he stuck out his hand, "My name's Neal."
This man was polite unlike the asshole she just had an encounter with. So, she had no intention of putting her hostile tendencies on him. Instead a tug of a smirk came across her pink glossed lips. Blue orbs dropped down to his hand and inspected it as one would an uncertain predator. Finding it tame enough she placed her own hand into his. She supplied a firmer grip and shake than one would expect from a woman, especially one at a bar called the Pussy-Cat. "I'm--" she stuttered off quickly. Fuck, a name. She needed a name. Bea picked her gaze up and scanned the area quickly. She spotted a man wearing a college football sweat shirt. It read 'Sidney Black Panthers'. "I'm Sidney. Nice to meet you." Neal's blue eyes widened slightly, "Sidney, wow.....Well, your the first and only Sidney I've ever met...I haven't even been to Australia," he smiled, "Ok..ok bad joke." Neal sat himself down on the stool. On closer inspection he was wearing faded blue jeans and hiking style boots. He seemed unhindered by cell phones, PDA's and all of the typical accessories worn by the other men at the bar. "I...uh...I usually don't ask to sit next to women at bars..." he began bashfully, "This isn't really my scene to be honest...I was supposed to meet a buddy of mine here...." he scanned the room, "...but I think he's stood me up. Great buddy huh?" He sipped at his dark beer, smiling a little at Beatrix. After setting down his glass, he glanced at Beatrix, "I hope you won't take this the wrong way....but you usually don't see many women like you around these sort of joints.....I mean....well you know....what I mean..nicer types." There was something shy and almost naive about the way he talked.
Beatrix found herself staring at Neal with almost bulging blue eyes. So, this was a gentleman. He certainly was no cold hearted murdering bastard and this caught all of Black Mamba's attention. She crossed her arms on the bar and blinked hard. She was staring. She blinked hard and averted her gaze. Her cheeks took on a reddish tint accenting her complexion. "Oh, I understand. I usually don't hang out around these places either. I'm waiting for someone too. I guess we've both been stood up. We stood-ups should stick together." She laughed at her own joke. Wow, that was a corny joke. Beatrix quickly averted her gaze to stare at her glass. Fuck, she was acting like some giddy school girl swooning over some hot guy. Snap out of it, Bea. She scolded forcefully in her head. Raking a hand through clean cut bangs she turned back to Neal. "Where are you from? I note something of an accent in there." Okay, still flirting. Her hand fell back to her arm and she pinched up her skin. Any sign of a wince was covered with a supporting smile. Maybe pain would knock her out of this fantasy.
Neal smiled....an exceedingly charming smile without really attempting to be. "Yeah, I hear ya.....that always seems to happen to me. I guess that's just my lot in life." He gave a little shrug with his wide shoulders. Neal seemed delighted that "Sidney" had asked him about where he was from. "Georgia actually..." he waved his hand, "I know, I know...but I swear I wasn't born in a trailer park and I've never been cow tipping in my entire life. Cross my heart," he made the gesture across his broad chest. "I grew up there...went to school, ya know..the whole bit. But, I dropped out. My dad wanted me to continue on the family tradition of civil engineering.........I didn't really want any part of that." He looked into his beer, "I moved out here a few years ago.....it's nice. But, ya know what they say....you can take the boy out of the South by you can't take the South out of the boy.....or something silly like that." He chuckled to himself, rubbing his stubbly cheek. "Enough about me, jeez..listen to myself. What about you Sidney?" He looked her directly in the face when speaking to her.
Beatrix was watching Neal with the highest intendment. Lingering on his every word like a true girly-girl. Oh, if anyone of the Vipers saw her she'd never live it down. Luckily she was the only one on this assignment. She canted her head to the side at his next question. "Me?" She stifled a laugh of her own. "My life is boring." Her face continued to beam with fascination towards this man and being the drama queen she could be, there was no hint of lies in her voice. "I grew up in Texas. Kinda lost the accent somewhere along the road. I wasn't big on the whole school thing either. Hell, I dropped out when I was in my second year of high school. Now, I work at a--convince store. One of those quickie-marts. You know, packing groceries, stocking shelves. It brings in enough dough to pay the rent." All spoken without a twitch of concealment. Neal watched Beatrix talk as if he was listening to human speech for the first time.....he was completely absorbed, even if it was just normal conversation. "Good for you," he nodded emphatically, "I always couldn't stand it when people just did what society told them to do...ya know go to school, please their parents and all of that stuff."
"Hey," Neal tapped her arm lightly, "I hope it's all right I buy you a drink....I mean, just for the good conversation and all." His blue eyes danced. "I guess I'm not so bummed about my buddy standing me up." he gave her a gentle smile, "Women usually ignore me...." he shrugged in that particular manner he had, "I guess they find me boring or something." He flagged down the bartender and the short man took Beatrix's order and rushed off again. "God, this place is gross." he murmured to her, leaning in a little closer, not so much in an intimate way but more to make sure he wasn't heard. As if anybody would argue. Her smile extended to a smirk. Not her casual 'I'm laughing at you smirk' but more of a 'I'm laughing with you smirk'. "Thank you," she said as she swirled the stirring rod, mixing the contents of her new drink. She couldn't seem to tear her gaze from him as she was rather infatuated. Bea thought she could only see herself infatuated with Bill. No one said she couldn't change her preferences. She flashed a timid smile.
Bea casually leaned forward and took a very tiny sip of her drink as she knew for fact if she drank anymore she'd go tipsy and she had a jo--Job! Beatrix had completely forgotten about her assignment. Her head shot up and eyes scanned the area franticly. She cursed to herself when she realized she probably just missed him. Fuck. Long fingers clasped around the glass, placing it to her lips, she downed about half of it. She set the glass back down with a soft thud. "I completely agree. These places make me sick. Only good thing about them is meeting people." Neal grinned, "Well, usually the kind of people you meet at these sort of places are out for one thing....ya know," he gave her a knowing look. He watched her drown a good portion of her drink, arched eyebrows rising slightly. He looked like he wanted to say something but was hesitating. "I hope you won't take this the wrong way but you have some of the most beautiful eyes and hair I've ever seen. God, that sounds so superficial but I couldn't help but notice." He turned away for a moment, as if ashamed of himself. "You kinda remind me of this girl I had a crush on in junior high....her name was Kim..." he flashed a small shy smile, ".....I think she hated me. It must be your eyes....." he trailed off, catching himself. "Wow, ok...I'm sorry..." he leaned back in his stool.
Beatrix felt her cheeks turn hot. She had been given compliments numerous times by all different type of people and she never blushed to any of them. Perhaps the idea that this was true flattery was touching a soft spot under that hard shell. A hand came up to tuck a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. She smiled fondly at him. "Oh, that's sweet, thank you," she cooed gently. That was sweet, a real sweetness that wasn't masked over for trying to be nice which in turn just covered up for cruel.
"Maybe I should stop drinking...the last thing I want to do is turn into one of these jerks." He gestured to the surrounding male populous. "Bunch of womanizing bastards....pardon my French." She placed a hand gingerly to his shoulder in order to gain back his attention. "I agree. Almost all men are bastards except for that small portion that defies to range with the statistics."
Neal grinned, he looked completely elated that Beatrix was enjoying his company. They chatted for awhile longer, mostly mundane stuff....casual conversation. Neal kept placing his hand gently on Beatrix's arm, as if to keep checking she was still there. He grew more animated as they continued to talk. At some point it seemed the bar was beginning to weed out. Only the hard core perverts and loners were still hanging around. Neal looked around during a pause in their conversation. "Hey, I was wondering," he rubbed his ear, "...this sounds awful. But would you be OK with coming back to my hotel with me." He quickly tried to retreat, "I mean....that sounds so wrong. Just for drinks and talk or whatever. They have a nice little bar there....this old guy plays the piano. I, uh...feel a little more me there...if ya know what I mean." He laid his hand on her arm again, "It's cool if you don't want to....I totally understand. I'm just enjoying talking to you so much....and I don't really want to hang around this dump anymore. Is that alright?" He locked a blue-eyed gaze with her.
Her own blue eyes began to glow. A happiness that was rare for Beatrix but not as rare for Sydney. "I'd love to come back to your hotel!" She almost burst out with a reply. Classic girl going ga-ga over a guy. It was pathetic. She ran a hand over her face in embarrassment. "I mean, yeah, I'd like that." Bea casually slid off the stool, ran hands over her blouse to smooth out the wrinkles and followed him out of the club. It wasn't intention but she was holding to his hand as they strolled down the street. He only lived two blocks down the way and walking couldn't hurt. The hotel that Neal was residing was a hell of a lot better looking than Beatrix's hotel. That contented smile still remained on her face as they traveled down the elongated hallway to the directed room.
Neal and Beatrix had a pleasant stroll back to his hotel. Indeed, the old man playing the piano was in the lobby. Chatting away in his friendly manner, Neal led Beatrix down the hallway to his room. There were a few awkward moments as they settled into the room, but overall things were going pretty casually. Neal poured them both drinks, and did a little last minute tidying. When Beatrix had sat down on the small couch, Neal joined her. Although he remained leaned back and at friendly distance, there was something insistent in his gaze.
Beatrix settled on the plush cushions and settled her drink to the side. She debated against drinking anymore as she had already ingested a large amount earlier in the evening. Deciding against it she leaned back and folded arms over her chest in a comfortable slouch. Her eyes still cast to Neal and only Neal. "This is a very nice place--" But Bea found herself trailing off when something caught out of the corner of her eye. She bolted up from her seat and turned towards the back of the small hotel room. At this moment the blonde came to realize that the room was very dark. The only light on was the table top lamp near the couch. Her senses reeled as she glared into the shadows. "Neal--perhaps I'm being a tad on the paranoid side but would you mind terribly turning all the lights on," her words were spoken calm and collected although she couldn't shake the knot in her stomach. Neal's voice rang out from the dark, "Oh, sure...no prob...just a sec," he drawled. There were sounds of his shuffling as he searched around for a light........searched a bit too long to find just a damn light.
Suddenly, the room exploded in bright light. Neal was standing against the back wall. Well, the man looked like Neal at least but his entire demeanor had changed as if by the switch of this light his body had been possessed by a new personality. The gentle and handsome face was now twisted in a delighted smirk. The bright teeth were still there, but now they were nothing but sinister. His arched brows were raised in sadistic delight. Most notably, at the end of his outstretched arms he was wielding a 35mm revolver.
"Ohhh...so sorry about that bitch," the voice had all been a fake too, this man sounded like he had been raised in the darkest pits of Brooklyn, "...wish I'd have time to fuck ya...but I think I'll leave that job to somebody else." He made a sharp head gesture to the side. The closet, which had been halfway, opened swung open now. A shorter man than 'Neal' stepped out. He was older and had jet black hair and a mustache that looked like it belonged in 1978. He was dressed in the manner of a wanna be white pimp. The guy was total grease. He was also Beatrix's target. "MmmMmmm, you are by far the most beautiful woman I've seen all day," his voice was gravelly and slightly muffled by the unfiltered cigarette hanging from his slimy lips. His beady eyes shot over to 'Neal', "Whaddyia say Rick, a real catch here and the fucking bitch was sent to kill me, hah!"
Rick, formally known as 'Neal' nodded, the sick grin still on his face. "Not real bright though." Rick added.
"That doesn't matter a shit to me," the sleazebag replied, raking his slimy gaze over Beatrix, "Only matters what she can do here," with that he grabbed his own crotch and laughed loudly and obnoxiously.
Rick joined in, "No doubt about that one boss." Once the sleazebag had collected himself, he took a few sauntering steps towards Beatrix, "Don't look so mad honey it was your own slutty ass that gotcha into this mess."