It had taken Bill little over three days to get the man he was looking for.
He wasn't an easy man to find, but Bill knew where to start: Acuna Mexico...Bill's childhood home. After that, it had only been a matter of following the information and then convincing the man to ditch his current activities, take a flight into San Diego and then take the drive down to Bill's. He wasn't the type of man, who would do this for anybody, but this was Bill...and he'd known Bill for his entire life really. There were exceptions to be made.
This man's name was Dantae Iago Rai Alvarez, but amongst those in the underground world he was known as "El Lobo", or "The Wolf." But, for those who knew him personally, such as Bill, 'Dantae' was perfectly fine. Dantae had been born and raised in Acuna Mexico. His father had been a full blooded Mayan Indian, his mother; Portuguese. Growing up, Dantae had known and played with Bill's younger brother...as he was only two years younger than Budd. Dantae had gotten to know Bill from his semi-frequent visits to see Estiban and Budd throughout the years. And while Dantae had not known Bill when he had lived in Acuna, seeing as he hadn't been born yet, Bill's infamous reputation around the Mexican border town had made him seek out the older man whenever he visited. Dantae had always looked forward to Bill's visits, so he could listen to the Bill's often horrible but fascinating stories about the underground life.
Now, grown up himself, Dantae had perused a similar track in his own life. He'd tried assassination for awhile, but found it simply wasn't his sort of thing. Despite his childhood idolizing of Bill, he knew he was no Bill. He'd perused a different path...he became a professional tracker. It was a natural choice. He'd been trained as a young child to hunt by his father. He'd always been very good at hide and shadow techniques, and he had an extremely sharp eye. It was a perfect fit, and by the time he was in his late 20's he was making more money than he'd ever fathomed making. At times, he found he had to resort to violence, which was fine, but overall his job involved a good amount of acting, close observation, vast amounts of perception, disguising himself, and remaining anonymous in a world of anonymous people.
A few years ago, he'd met his current girlfriend...a photographer and the two of them had gone into business together; seeing as his job often required the use of 'good' photography...something he wasn't terribly good at himself.
When Dantae had received the call from Bill, he and his girlfriend had packed up their gear, leaving their home in Reno Nevada and headed down to Mexico. Dantae had to admit it was nice to be close to home again.
Now, sitting across from Bill, he couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. Bill was much older than when he'd last seen him, he still looked good for his age….and in shape, but there was something there...something hollow and weathered that went beyond just age. He had lost something or somebody, Dantae could see it...whatever or whoever it was had meant a great deal to him. Dantae remembered Bill as he was when he was in his early 30's; long brown hair, brash smile...a real charmer. He seemed very different now, although the pompous bastard in him was still very much spy and young.
Likewise, Bill was regarding the man from him, whom he remembered as being a skinny little brown kid in torn jeans and a tank top too big for his thin frame. He was far from that now. Bill figured Dantae must be somewhere in his early 30's at this point...but it was easy to loose track. He had grown to be fairly tall, slightly taller than himself and well built. His jet black hair was now quite long, down to the middle of his back. It was down at the moment, straight and shimmering off the living room lights. He'd also grown up to be a good looking man, with smooth native skin of a rich tanned brown. His eyes were dark brown as one would expect and possessed a sharp introspective quality. His features were certainly Mayan, but there was a wisp of European flair in his straight nose, strong chin and higher brows. He was a pretty man...in a still masculine sort of way. He was currently dressed in a casual grey suit and black leather shoes, wearing a modest silver hoop in his left ear.
Bill knew that Dantae's appearance now was only one of his many appearances. Part of the man's job was being able to change his entire appearance and demeanor with the blink of an eye. Right now, Dantae was fairly clean cut and slick...more in his 'natural' state. But, Bill knew that could easily change. The man would go from street person, to migrant worker, to thug...even to a woman...at least that was the theory. Bill also knew that Dantae was one of the best trackers in the world. It was possible he might have even sought him out if they hadn't known one another. They were both professionals in the underground after all.
They had literally just sat down together after they'd greeted one another and Bill wanted to get down to business; but he was curious when Dantae had shown up with a woman. Always being one for good manners...in his own way, Bill raised a brow at the red headed woman sitting closely beside Dantae.
"You have gone into the joint partnership business Dantae?" He inquired, smiling warmly at the woman.
Dantae chuckled, giving the lady at his side a quick grin, "Indeed I have Bill."
The woman sitting beside Dantae was quite the looker, and not in the entirely beautiful sense. She was pretty, but held more an inner beauty than anything that stood on the outside. She was obviously full fledged American, born in the good old fucked up parts of Idaho. Her name was Helen Vowell. Her most defining feature was that mass of curly bright red locks. Red heads were rare and hence per se, Helen was quite unordinary. She had well chiseled features, high cheek bones, big green eyes, freckled face, and eyebrows that had taken too much of a tweezing. She wasn't overly skinny or tall, coming at a height of 5'5''. At first glance Helen could come off as an uncouth bitch, but she was relatively good natured.
Dantae met Helen during a routine track down. It turned out the man he was supposed to track down was a friend of Helen's. Dantae tried to gain information from Helen on her friend's whereabouts and Helen being sly, caught on. This friend hadn't been on Helen's top friends list anyways, so she aided Dantae and as a pay off for her 'good deed' she partnered up.
Helen was an expert with the camera. She took classes in college and graduated with top honors in photography. In her younger years she used to work for National Geographic, but she got bored and moved on to free lance work. It wasn't until she came across Dantae that she thought to use her photography as a spying technique. She became rather valuable when working with him. Sometimes the pictures she captured made the 'hunt' that much easier. Photographs, as some would see as a piece of glossy filmed paper, could show the darkest secrets of any human being.
Well, here she was, always at Dantae's side on any new job. Dantae had filled her in on Bill before they arrived. Dantae thought very highly of the older man, an idol to him, and Helen respected that. She had her own idols. She sat beside Dantae in a pair of black pants, a crimson silk blouse, and high healed black sandals. A smile was set on her plump red lips as she regarded the older man across the table. "Dantae shoulda had a partner long before I came along, but then again he wouldn't of found anyone as good," she nudged the Mayan playfully.
She turned back to Bill. "I'm Helen…Vowell. Pleasure to meet you. Dantae's told me such nice things about you. Well, if you can think of a man that kills people for a living as nice…but Dantae's real fond of you and your brother. Makes it feel like a real honor to be here."
Bill laughed, in that amused chuckle sort of way. Ah, it figures Dantae would end up with a spitfire of an all-American fiery redhead. It was simultaneously a complete clash and a total match for the sleek Mayan.
Reaching across the coffee table, Bill shook Helen's extended hand; still smiling "I've never been nice Miss Vowell, not my entire life...but," he raised a brow, "...I can be sweet at times." The dark eyes held an inner twinkle. "A pleasure to meet you."
"Hey now Bill," Dantae interjected with a smirk, "...Helen's my gal, don't be doing that Snake Charmer act on her." Now that was Bill he remembered all right.
Bill leaned back, still smiling.
Dantae shook his head, his smirk widening. Leaning back as well, he put a casual arm around Helen's shoulders; a little protectively. "Helen is right though," he spoke up, "She's the best damn photographer I've ever seen." She had a right to be overly confident in her abilities; she was damn good at what she did, just as Dantae was good at what he did. They made a good team.
"That's good to hear," Bill said, the charming quickly giving away to the deadly serious. "Because, I want clear and concise photos of these assholes."
Dantae nodded, glancing at Helen, "We understand. I assure you Bill, Helen can do that."
"Hrm, good to hear," Bill's look darkened as he reached for a folder on the side table, "I've put together as much information as I could find." He handed the folder to Dantae.
Nodding silently Dantae opened the folder and examined the contents. On top of the stack of papers was a glossy 8X8 color photo of Beatrix Kiddo. Of course, Dantae had no idea who she was, but he recognized her as very beautiful...angelic but deadly looking.
He looked up, sleek hair shimmering, "This woman...?"
Bill pointed to his chest, "...was my woman. She was an employee of mine, my best...she was killed on assignment in LA. Her target was a Chinese underground boss, Lisa Wong. There's a photo of her in there as well, along with a few of her known associates."
Dantae continued to look up at Bill. So that was it. The pieces fell into place. It all made sense now; the look on Bill's face, the somewhat altered distracted vibe about him, the amazing amount of money he'd offered Helen and himself for this job...Dantae glanced down at the picture again, the pretty blonde stared back up. Dantae hid a smile, thinking that Bill might not appreciate it at the moment. He remembered Estiban telling that stupid story about Bill and Lana Turner over and over again...just to irritate Bill in front of other people. But it was true; Bill was always "a fool for the blondes." And now his woman had been killed; Dantae could understand Bill's feelings. He couldn't imagine living without Helen. He'd certainly want revenge if somebody killed her.
"What I want," Bill spoke up again, still looking morose, "...is for you two to find, without a question of a doubt, the person or persons who took part in the killing of Beatrix Kiddo. I've included information on her as well...thought it might help. Like I said, I want clear photos of these people, photos of their homes, their families, their cars...everything. It is most likely that whoever killed her is connected to Lisa Wong, or part of the Chinese underground, but...there's always the slim chance it was somebody else. There are always people out there looking to off one of my Vipers for multiple reasons." He pointed a warning finger, "Dantae, I'm sure you are aware of how dangerous the Chinese underground is, but...I reiterate, be careful….both of you," his eyes flicked to Helen. Dantae he could see perhaps melding in, but she was a different story. Then again, they both knew what they were doing, Bill was sure they had ways of operating and he wasn't going to tell them how to do their jobs. "Beyond that," he continued, "...I leave it up to you. The killer or killers are most likely still in the LA area, or in California, but they might also have left the country for Hong Kong or Beijing. I, of course, will cover all costs, on top of your base payment."
Dantae nodded, taking all of that in with a calm demeanor. "Let me look through this folder for a moment Bill," he spoke up softly, leafing through the papers.
"Of course," Bill replied, suddenly looking rather tired.
Helen peered over Dantae's shoulder as he leafed through the numerous amounts of paper. She picked the 8X8 glossy color photo of the blonde out, finding that more of interest. She pursed her lips. "Damn, she was nice looking," she mused quietly. "I'd kil-I'd…love to look like that," she corrected herself giving a tentative glance to their new 'employer'. She settled the photo on the table and resumed skimming over the papers Dantae had finished with. A majority of it was information on the woman's past assignment, the suspects of whom may have done the blonde in, and other informational shit.
Once finished she put the papers back into the folder. She looked back up to Bill and settled against the couch cushions. "Don't you worry…Mr. Bill. I'll get ya fine pictures. Hell," she stifled a laugh. "I'll even get ya a picture of one of those assholes taking a shit."
Dantae threw a look at Helen after her rather off color comment. Sometimes she had a tendency to come off a bit...abrasive to strangers.
But Bill just laughed, waving a hand dismissively, "I appreciate the offer Miss Vowell, and while I certainly want as many pictures as possible...," his brows raised,"….I could live without a picture of some guy taking a shit," he paused, considering that, "...unless it does help extensively in finding out Beatrix's killers of course."
Dantae had remained silent, and he repacked up everything in the folder as neatly as he had received it. "Well, Bill...it looks like we've got everything we need here. Helen and I can get started right away, which I'm assuming is what you'd prefer?"
"Yes, of course," Bill replied with a small smile, "Although, if you'd both wish to stay for dinner, Nikishi is making her famous yokisoba noodles and teriyaki chicken. It's quite good."
Dantae glanced at Helen, his fine brows rising at her questioningly, "What do you think Helen?"
She nodded eagerly. "Mmm that sounds yummy," that pretty much inclined that the red head was more than willing to stay for dinner. She had a wide smile stretched across her face. "Dantae hardly ever feeds me exotic food." If one could call noodles and chicken exotic food. Helen could be a frisky tease that was sometimes entertaining or just plan annoying. Everyone had their pros and cons.
It didn't take long for Nikishi to prepare the yokisoba noodles and teriyaki chicken and have it out on the table. Dantae and Helen were thrilled to stay and chat but they didn't want to spend too much time dilly-dalling.
"So, Mister Bill," Helen said over a mid bite of her chicken. "You must have some pretty fucking good stories about Dantae when he was younger."
Bill chuckled, finding Helen addressing him as 'Mr. Bill' quite amusing, but strangely enduring. "Well, let's see..." he set down his fork, falling into thought as he took a long sip from his tea.
Dantae smirked; he could only hope that Bill's memory was starting to go. He was glad to be taking a little time to sit down and eat...although he was a slightly irked about Helen's 'Dantae hardly ever feeds me exotic food' comment. What the hell? They went out all the time...
Bill on the other hand found the redhead quite entertaining. He fixed her with a lopsided smile, "I can't say I know as many good stories about Dantae as Budd does. I was gone most of the time Dantae was causing havoc in Acuna."
"Not as much havoc as you Bill," Dantae added, scooping up some noodles with his chopsticks.
"Yes, that is true," Bill pointed out, looking proud of himself. "But," he turned back to Helen, with a mischievous glint in his eye, "I do remember one thing about Dantae..."
Dantae froze, his dark brown eyes fixated on Bill. He almost looked scared.
"There was this one time...," Bill went into 'narrator mode'; voice taking on that familiar rich tone, "...I was visiting Acuna, I had just returned from Japan. Dantae was...I dunno...twelve, thirteen...something like that. Anyways, apparently Dantae, Budd...and a couple other guys had decided that they were going to shoot a bunch of wild rabbits and string them up downtown...probably over a hundred of them. There was certainly no shortage of them in those parts."
Dantae put his face in his hands. Of course, Bill had to tell this story. Helen loved rabbits. She loved all small cute cuddly creatures.
Bill ignored Dantae, continuing on, "I don't know what possessed them to do it, but Dantae was most likely acquired because he was a damn good hunter. I would also take a guess in saying a good amount of tequila was involved." Bill smirked at his dark skinned friend, "Well, this was the late 70's...caused one hell of a raucous amongst the animal rights people there. Dantae and the other guys stayed quiet for weeks, not confessing a damn thing. Finally," he paused, giving Dantae a long look, "...Dantae, out of all of them...stepped forward and took the blame for the entire thing. It was quite honorable actually, and out of all of those boys….Dantae knew he was going to face the worst punishment, yet he still took the blame."
Dantae nodded solemnly, "My father beat me pretty good for that."
Bill raised a brow, "I remember being very impressed by him at that point. I knew I had to keep an eye on this kid."
Dantae finally smiled a little, "Honor over murder then Bill?"
"Always," Bill replied with a feral grin.
Helen had been listening to the story as a child would to sitting on the carpet while the parent reads off a story. She recalled Dantae telling her there was something about the way Bill 'told' things that held a mysterious aura. Either way she was both fascinated and appalled by some of Dantae's past. She put her fork on the table and glared at her partner. "You killed a rabbit?" She exclaimed in apparent disgust.
"That was nothin', we once went out and killed a coyote," the red head snapped her head around to find a…cowboy…standing in the middle of the room.
Her mouth was agape. "You killed a coyote?" She exclaimed once again.
Budd waved a dismissive hand. "Yeah but the rabbits were the most fun. 'Specially when I brought one of 'em rabbits home, the one-a-the ones that didn't wanna fucking die…" Budd had a lop sided grin on his face. "Anywhoo, bought that rabbit home on purpose, just to spite Bill. Called 'em Scoopy Junior. Bill came home, found out," he took a step forward, hands in his jean pockets, and brows furrowed shaking his head from side to side. "Killed that rabbit point blank."
The red head shot her gaze to Bill. "You shot a rabbit?"
Bill stared back at Helen for a moment, with a eerily placid expression, "Well let's see at least one rabbit...Scoopy...and Scoopy Jr...no, no at least a handful of rabbits, a variety of small animals, three dogs, two cats, probably fifteen or so reptiles...and at least four hundred and fifty or so people." He went back to eating casually with a sardonic twist of the lip.
Dantae had missed most of Bill's little tally there, as he had turned around the moment Budd had come in, "Budd!" He stood up with a wide bright smile; obviously very happy to see his longtime friend and embraced him a very manly fashion. He had hoped Budd would show up. He laughed, "I remember the coyote...hey sit down with us."
Bill glanced briefly at his younger brother as he sat down to join them at the table, "There's some food left in the kitchen Budd," he offered.
Dantae on the other hand, was focused totally on Budd, "Budd, I'd like to meet Helen, my girlfriend and business partner," he indicated the redhead.
Helen was staring at Bill with her jaw completely unhinged. The killing humans she couldn't care less about, but all of those poor little animals. Her attention snapped back around when her name was mentioned. She quickly put herself back together with a wide smile and an outstretched hand. "Please to meet you. So," the red head raised a questionable brow. "….you're Budd?"
"The one and only. No one was or will be as fucked up enough again to name there kid, Budd," he said with a genial smile and took her hand lightly to shake it.
The red head kept brows rose. "You're mother was obviously fucked up enough."
Budd raised his own brows. "Yeah, but she was the only one. Think she was savin' the fucked up names for me." With that he glanced over to Bill and slid a hand over the rim of that new hat he had been sporting around continuously. "I just ate, but thanks anywho." He turned to Dantae. "Well, goddamn, you look good. And ya got yourself a girlfriend…a frisky assed bitch, and now you're gonna get a shit load of money for doin' a job for my brother," He chuckled. "I'd say you're doing really fucking good, my friend."
Dantae laughed, "Man, Budd you're still the same." Only Budd could get away with calling women 'frisky assed bitches' and make it enduring. Dantae's hand fell on Helen's shoulder, "Yup, I suppose I have done pretty good for myself. I guess some of us boys from Acuna turned out pretty well huh?"
Bill had remained silent, a tight smirk plastered on his face as he remained sitting and eating, looking rather stoically sadistic. Helen's comment rang in his ears. His mother had certainly been fucked up enough, because she'd spent most her life being fucked, in just about every way possible. And Bill wasn't about to point out to Dantae that most of the guys he'd known in Acuna were now dead. He didn't want to damper the mood of the reunion.
"Shit, that's a great hat," Dantae stared at the Budd's recently acquired cowboy headwear. "I have this beautiful black Stetson, turquoise and silver stoned brim...I shoulda brought it down to show you..."
As Budd and Dantae were exchanging cowboy hat information, Bill turned to Helen. "My mother named Budd after Buddy Holly," he said with a sneer; most obviously making a round about poke at Budd. "I always told him that he should get some black horned rimmed glasses to better fit his namesake." He shrugged, "He never believed me though..."
The remainder of the dinner was spent catching up and telling fond stories of the old days. Budd and Dantae chatted amongst one another most of the time and that left Helen to gain insightful insight on her boyfriend and his friend from Bill. As frightening as Bill could be she also found him to be highly entertaining.
"It was great to see you again, Dantae. I'm sure I'll catch ya again during your business with Bill," Budd said as they stood by the open front door. He tipped his hat to the red head. "Nice to meet ya again, Helen."
Helen returned the nod. She obviously didn't take offense to Budd's earlier comments about her. She was perhaps one of the few that found Budd not a moron; which was most likely because of Dantae's fondness of the man. "It was a pleasure," she paused, her green eyes wide with mockery. "Buddy Holly." She turned on her heel, taking Dantae by the arm and leading him out.
Budd stood there looking perplexed. He rubbed the back of his neck giving Bill a side glance. "You're a fucking asshole, you know that Bill?" He growled and turned to gather his things to leave.
"Hey Arlene," Tommy called from the front entrance of his house, shutting the door behind him; "...I'm home!" He knew Arlene was here instead of over at her place, since they'd talked about her coming over earlier that day at work, before she'd gotten mad at him that is. She had his extra key and no doubt was already home.
Tommy had gone out after work to get some groceries and he set them down on the kitchen counter as he made his way through the house. Removing his jean jacket, he turned on the hallway light and put it in the closet. He could hear the TV on in the bedroom and knew Arlene must have been resting.
Entering the room, he leaned against the doorframe. "Hey," he said softly, spotting her there, "I got you some stuff at the store," he smiled gently, "...some treats...ice cream...gourmet coffee...ya know the, 'I'm sorry for what I did earlier' kind of food." His smile became warmer, hands in his pockets as he looked at the beautiful blonde awash in the blue tinted light of the television.
Bill had spent a few minutes deciding who he wanted to take out on a date: Jack Daniels or Mary Jane. He loved them both dearly...Mary was the sweet type…..she'd sneak up on ya, blow your mind and calm you down. Ah but Jack...he was brutal and to the point; the type to fuck you and then leave you before morning.
Bill decided he was going to take Jack out. After the whole dinner with Dantae, Helen and Budd, Bill had suddenly felt a renewed and uncomfortable feeling of emptiness. Maybe it was seeing Dantae and Helen together, maybe it was talking about the 'good old days', maybe it was just the time of day...well, either way, he missed Beatrix all over again. Not that he ever didn't miss her, but there were times where it was stronger than others. And he'd certainly wasn't completely over putting himself under substance abuse when inclined. He was doing a lot better, but...at the moment, he took a relapse.
The remainder of the evening had thus been spent sitting on the couch, half heartedly watching television and getting completely drunk. It was now late in the evening, and Bill had shut the TV off, only to fall into a drunken slumber; head fallen back against the couch pillows.
The opening of the front door caused him to snap fully awake. Then there was the familiar tapping of Elle's chunky high heels on the wood floor as she made her way down the hallway and into the living room.
Dressed in a short skirt and matching white button up blouse, the willowy blonde gave Bill a look halfway between anger and pity.
"Elle," Bill murmured.
"You're drunk," Elle said with distain.
Bill didn't say anything, but just rolled his head away to look at the now blank television screen.
"Jesus Bill, I thought you were done with that shit," she said, coming around the back of the couch.
"You guessed wrong Miss Driver," he replied with a sloppy scowl.
"You know what you need Bill?" Elle spoke up, now standing behind him.
Bill didn't' reply.
"You need to relax a little."
"I am relaxed goddamnit…I'm fucking drunk."
Elle smirked and suddenly dropped her hands onto Bill's shoulders, which she then began massaging.
Bill, being far too drunk to care one way or another didn't move or protest to this. Besides, this wasn't out of the ordinary for Elle...and on top of all that, it did feel pretty good. "More on the left side," he said after a moment.
Elle complied, and along the way her hands slipped under his shirt collar to massage his shoulders without the coverage of clothing. "Whatever you say Bill," she replied in a suddenly silky tone.
Blue eyes calmly peered to view the man standing in the middle of the room. Beatrix had been home for a good hour and spent that hour watching pointless television. Actually, for a good five minutes she had been enthralled by one of those shitty television 'cuts' of Game of Death. When it became too hard to watch and she switched to some late night comedy that really wasn't that funny. She really hadn't blamed Tommy for what happened at the record store. It was a misunderstanding that went over the top due to her hormone levels. And, she really wasn't just blaming the hormones because she'd never want to get mad at Tommy…he was too sweet.
Hell, the way he entered the room with his 'I'm sorry food offerings' was adorable and that was what made the blonde stretch a smile. She was sitting on the bedroom's large recliner. Her legs were propped up on the nearby bed. A fuzzy blanket draped was over her legs and spilled off the edge of the bed. Her hair was down and spilling over her shoulders in a 'neat' mess, and she was wearing one of Tommy's t-shirts. The girls weren't around and as the saying went, when the cat is away the mice will play, or something equally as sly.
Blue eyes cast down a moment as she switched the television off; the only light glowing into the room was from the hallway Tommy had just entered from. "Mm, ice cream." That pretty blonde head cocked to the side. "I do hope you remember the pickles because after watching that I Love Lucy episode the other night I've had a yearning for pickles and ice cream." A slender brow raised in his direction, in toying affection. "If you forgot them, well," her body slouched down more into the recliner; getting more comfortable. "I'm not going to accept your apology."
Tommy smiled, completely drawn in by Arlene's whole appearance, her tone of voice…everything. He was amazed at how good she looked, at all times...even just sitting there wearing one of his t-shirts, pregnant, hair a little messed up...
He slowly walked towards her, "Well, I didn't buy any pickles, but I think I have a jar in the fridge, leftovers from the barbeque." He grinned, crouching down next to the recliner. Being so tall, this brought him down basically to her eye level.
Reaching out, he took hold of one of her slender hands, squeezing it affectionately. His blue eyes sparkled with obvious fondness as he looked at her, "If you want...I'll stick some pickles in a bowl of ice cream..." he smiled, his hand moving up to her hair, brushing some stray strands from her cheek. "You look so beautiful right now Arlene...," he said softly, "But, you always do..."
"Ok, that's good...now…..more to the right," Bill rolled his head to the side, "Yeah...that's perfect..."
Elle was loving every minute of this. Luckily Bill couldn't see the sly expression on her face as she took the utmost spiteful pleasure in this moment. She took her time, she'd been waiting for this for years, she could wait a few more minutes.
After a good five minutes of playing masseuse. She decided to take the next step in her little plan, Elle took her hands off of Bill's shoulders and slowly rounded the couch; her long fingers tracing along the smooth fabric along the way.
Bill watched her as intensely as he could in his drunken state; wondering why the hell she'd stopped...that had been a pretty damn good massage. There was an odd glint in Elle's cold blue eye at the moment, and Bill couldn't quite place it. If he'd been more sober perhaps he could have pinpointed it.
Elle's tactile tracings led her back around to Bill's shoulders as she came around to face him. He stared at her, a typical frown on his face. "Oh baby," she cooed, "...you need to cheer up."
Bill focused in on her, head lolling slightly to the side after a moment, "Not right now Elle…," he whispered, "I just want to be left alone..."
She pursed her lips, "No, I don't think you do...I think," she said, voice dripping with seductive intentions as she drew closer to him, "…you want the exact opposite." With that, she slid right into his lap, knees on either side of his torso. Elle was anything but shy when it came to such things.
Bill had somewhat of a delayed reaction to all of this, and he made a lame half-hearted effort to push her off; which failed miserably. "Elle...no, I-"
"Shhhhhh," the cycloptic blonde whispered as she ran her fingers through his hair, the motion forcing him to look up at her. Bill stared back at her with an unidentifiable expression in his otherwise alcohol induced hazy look. "Don't worry about a thing," she continued on in that seductive whisper, lips hovering over his own, "Just let me make it all better." With that, she leaned in and kissed him.
There was a brief moment, where Bill's mind flashed warning signals. Something wasn't right and he knew it. Elle had kissed him before, sure….but it had always been playful and rather meaningless. But this was different, very different, it was wanting and purposeful, and in his mind, dulled with alcohol, loss and misery, it couldn't catch up. It was almost too easy to give in. He hadn't been able to even touch another woman since Beatrix, and from a normally very satisfied to recently completely deprived male point of view, it was a fully welcome gesture. Oh sure, he'd thought about calling a number of women on an almost sickening long list...but he never could. Beatrix had been the end all, and even though she was dead he felt a sickening sense of betrayal that he'd never felt before in his entire life of chronic infidelity.
Finally! Elle could almost cry out with joy. Finally, she was getting what she wanted. Years of sitting by and waiting….watching as that bitch moved in, watching as Bill...like a fucking fool...got taken. Now, it was her turn. She'd been planning this little seduction for awhile. She hadn't exactly planned it for tonight, but seeing Bill the way he was now...well, it only made it easier. Now, Bill seemed a little on the traditional side when it came to these sorts of things, but she was about to show him a few new tricks.
Elle wasted little time; taking the kiss from borderline sweet to overtly sexual very quickly. Likewise, a woman with one mission in mind, she dropped her hands and began to rapidly unbutton his shirt, her hands moving with well practiced expertise.
Beatrix idly canted her head, loose strands of blonde hair brushing against his extended hand. "Some say flattery will get you nowhere…but…" her lips pursed. "…in this case it will get you not only my acceptance, but a kiss." And seeing as Tommy was level with her, all she had to do was lean over and place lips to his in a very warm kiss.
She pulled back with a thin smile on her face. "Now, I'll have that pickles and ice cream, and you are free to have just ice cream considering you gagged during the show in the first place."
Tommy smiled, hovering close to her, taking a moment to savor the aftermath of that kiss. His smile widened, "Whatever you say Lucy," He stood, squeezing her hand once more time, "And, I think I'll take you up on that no pickles offer," he made a face, "Gross."
Still smiling sweetly he went into the kitchen to get the food ready. A few minutes later, he came back into the room, a bowl of ice cream in one hand, and a smaller bowl of pickles in the other. Setting them on the small nightstand next to Arlene, he chuckled, "I left the option of mixing them up to you." Going back into the kitchen, he retrieved his own bowl; ice cream only. Then, sitting down on the bed next to Arlene, he made himself comfortable as the two of them prepared for a quiet sweet evening, eating ice cream and optionally, pickles.
Bill found he was rapidly getting lost in this odd moment of passion, and moved his hands from the back of the couch grasp the blonde hair in front of him. That was when, in his mind, things started to get weird. It was probably the alcohol combined with months of miserable celibacy, but it was almost as if he was once again kissing Beatrix. Well, almost. And, for a few brief seconds, he even believed it. His sudden jump in passion reflected this.
Elle, completely unaware of Bill's state of confusion, was in absolute paradise. She was getting the kind of physical response from him that she'd always wanted. She'd always known Bill was one hell of a kisser, now she could only imagine what other things he was equally or even better at. The thought was terribly exciting, and she decided to step it up a bit.
No, something definitely was not right. Bill struggled to sort through all of the conflict in his foggy mind. She didn't smell like Beatrix, she didn't taste like Beatrix….and when he opened his eyes; the hair entangled in his fingers was the wrong shade of blonde. The pace was all wrong, Beatrix didn't work like this. This was not Beatrix, this was Elle. He both simultaneously desperately wanted to stop and wanted to keep going. It was a conflict that was far more difficult to scale than he would have initially thought.
And then Elle snapped him completely out of it when she suddenly decided to bite down on his lip, hard...hard enough to instantly break the skin.
Bill instantly pulled away, "Fuck!" He yelled, a hand yanking away from her to press at his already bleeding lip, "Jesus, augh...Kiddo. I-" he froze; instantly realizing what he'd just said.
Elle, likewise froze, quickly pulling away from him; her blue eye widening in shock and obvious pain. She moved off of him, looking terribly hurt and made a rapid dash for the hallway.
"Elle...," Bill reached out a hand half heartedly, realizing his blunder, his other hand still clutching at his lip, "..Elle..get back here, I-"
Halfway out of the room, Elle spun around dramatically, "Just so you know Bill," she cut him off with a hiss and a vicious turn of her head, "I'll be waiting." Her eye bore into him,"Whenever you crawl out from whatever grave your self pitying ass has dug for yourself. Whenever you start acting like the cold, sadistic, son of a bitch that I have loved for years...well..." she laughed very bitterly, "...I'll be ready and willing." With that, she turned and left, slamming the door behind her.
Bill stared at her disappearing back, chest still rising and falling in that aftermath of that moment, hand frozen over his bleeding lip, and an uncharacteristic look of bewilderment on his face.
Suddenly, he felt quite sober.