The Queen and the Princess

Bill pulled into the circular driveway of his Mexican styled hacienda known as the "Villa Quatro." He had left the airport in the late afternoon and rushed to get home. On the drive over, he tried calling Budd, but got no response. Bill figured he would try again later. He popped open the trunk, removed his luggage and bags, and then slammed it closed. He was halfway up the path leading to the hacienda, when the door was thrown open and a little four-year-old girl with shoulder length wavy brown hair ran to him, her arms outstretched.

"Daddy's home!"

Bill stumbled backwards and then caught his balance. He knelt down so that he was at her level and wrapped his arms around her, giving her a warm bear hug.

"Hi baby, how's everything going? Were you good while Daddy was away?"

"Uh-huh. I cleaned my room! And I fed Emilio all by myself!" B.B. grabbed his hand and pulled him along leading him to the door. "Wanna see?"

"I'll be sure to check your room and Emilio later." Bill looked up and saw Elle standing in the doorway, a half smile on her face. She retrieved his luggage and bags, bringing them inside. "Thanks, Elle."

"Don't mention it, honey." She turned to kiss him on the lips briefly.

"Eww, that's yucky!" B.B. said, still pulling her father along. Elle followed behind them.

Bill kicked the door closed. They went into the living room where he motioned Elle to set aside the luggage and bags. He sat down on the sofa and rubbed his head wondering what he should do first. B.B. pranced in front of him, wanting to be the center of his attention.

"B.B.? Come sit here, next to Daddy."

She bounded over and jumped on the couch, her brown eyes wide with happiness.

"Now, I've told you: no jumping on—"

"The couch," she finished for him and sat down properly.

"Good. I see Auntie Elle has been taking good care of you…in my absence." Bill said, glancing at Elle.

"We stayed up watching Sailor Moon! Then we went to eat at the restaurant. I had tacos."

"Beef?"

"No Daddy! Chicken!" B.B. made chicken noises. "We slept really late like I never did before!"

Bill nodded. "I'm glad you two ladies had fun…now…I have a gift for you, B.B."

B.B.'s eyes nearly popped out of her skull and she jumped off the couch and started racing around the living room.

"Are you sure you didn't feed her a pound of candy before I got in?" Bill asked Elle, as he watched B.B. run in circles.

"I'm sure, Bill…she's just excited to see you. The whole time you were gone, she kept asking 'when's Daddy coming home'. She missed you."

Bill nodded and then turned to B.B. again. "B.B." His voice had taken on that parental tone that a young child interprets as Daddy or Mommy meaning business. "Go upstairs and take a shower."

She looked at him, her mouth agape. "But it's too early for a shower!"

"That's why it's called an 'early shower'." He patted her on the shoulder. "I'll give you your gift when you're done."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

"Swear to God and hope to die?"

Bill gave her an odd stare as if he didn't know how to answer her question. He knew she said it with no malice behind it, but after what he found out in Japan…well, her words could be taken quite literal.

"No honey, I don't hope to die. I won't swear to God either. I want you to go now, upstairs, and take a shower."

B.B. bounded up the stairs to her room, disappearing from Elle's and Bill's sight.

"Elle, we have to talk," Bill said in a low voice. He looked around the living room and gestured for her to sit down. She had been standing up the whole time.

"Is it what I think it's about?"

Bill nodded.

"Shit."

"Before you react, give me a chance to—"

"Daddy, can I use my strawberry soap?" B.B. asked from the landing, looking down at her father and Elle.

Bill got up from the sofa, leaving Elle momentarily. He went halfway up the steps and found B.B. wearing her purple terrycloth robe. "That's fine, baby. Go now, okay? So we can all have dinner together."

"What're you making?"

"What would you like?"

"Chicken!"

"Chicken tacos like the ones you had with Auntie Elle?"

B.B. nodded vigorously. "Those ones! They're the yummiest!"

"Okay then…" Bill wondered if they had any chicken. "Go now and don't come back down until you're all done."

B.B. whirled around and went to her room. Bill watched her and then went back to the living room where Elle was waiting. He gestured towards the kitchen.

"We're gonna cook and talk."

oOo

Bill stirred the chicken strips in the frying pan, allowing them to turn golden brown. He had already seasoned them so now he had to get started on grating the cheddar cheese (B.B.'s favorite), tearing the lettuce, and tomatoes. He turned around and saw Elle slowly cutting the onion, tears forming from her one blue eye.

"So it's true," she growled.

"Yes…it is…Beatrix is awake. First thing she did was go to Japan. She killed O-Ren and mauled Sofie."

"What'd she do to Sofie?"

"Hacked off both her arms."

Elle blinked. "How'd she kill O-Ren?"

Bill removed a knife from the voodoo knife holder placed on the top shelf in the kitchen. It was a strange knife holder made from red plastic and resembled a man being stabbed by the knives it held, hence the name "voodoo". He washed one tomato in the sink and placed it down on the cutting board.

Slicing the top portion of the tomato, he said, "She scalped her."

"How?"

"With the sword he made for her."

Elle's knife clattered to the floor.

"He made her one—Hanzo made her a fucking sword!" The disbelief in her voice was loud and clear. "I always wanted one of those and he swore never to make one again!"

"It would appear he has broken his oath," Bill said calmly, dicing the tomato.

Elle picked up the knife she had dropped and rinsed it in the sink. After she finished drying it, she set it down and came in front of Bill. He was concentrating on the tomato, fascinating by the red juice and seeds spilling from the fruit.

"This is too much—I need to go out for a smoking break."

Bill looked up, his eyebrows furrowed. There was no such thing as a smoking break for Elle. All the same, he nodded, as if giving her permission to smoke to her heart's content.

"Come back in fifteen to twenty minutes, so we can eat together."

Elle rushed out the kitchen. Bill heard the front door slam. At least, she knew better than to smoke in the hacienda. It was strange to be with Elle after all this time, but now finally, he felt he loved her somewhat. He loved her enough to warn her first about Beatrix being alive. Bill had the instinct that Beatrix would come after them individually. He tried telling Budd first since they were brothers, but he wouldn't answer his phone. So Elle was the first to know. He didn't want Elle to be harmed, not that she couldn't take care of herself, but he felt enough for her in that he didn't want her to get hurt—especially by Beatrix Kiddo. If she scalped O-Ren and hacked off Sofie's arms, then there was no telling what she'd do to the rest of them.

Bill thought about Elle as he placed the tomato dices and onion slices in two separate plastic bowls. He brought them out to the table and allowed his mind to wander to Elle, as he often did, when she wasn't around him. Right now he had enough time to think about the two women in his life that had once competed for his affections: Elle and Beatrix. Bill returned to the kitchen and placed the chicken strips on a plate and then took out the grater. Elle had left so he would take care of grating the cheese.

Elle Driver.

At first, Bill was repulsed by Elle. She had always flirted with him with her crude sense of humor, and on assignments, she didn't know when to stop. Blood soaked corpses could be littered across the floor and she'd still keep shooting like she had done at Two Pines. Slowly, Elle grew on him and he even began to like her…even if it was just a little. Soon she became the number one woman in his life, a fact that disturbed Budd. Not that Bill cared about what his brother thought. Elle was here to stay and that was that. Beatrix once had that opportunity, but she blew it by running away from him.

Beatrix Kiddo.

There was a time when Beatrix was his number one woman and no one could ever replace her. That is, until Beatrix betrayed him. It wasn't that Elle was exactly Bea's replacement. Nobody could replace her, but Bill did appreciate what Elle had done for him during those horrid three months when all he could do was drink himself to sleep because he thought someone had killed his precious Kiddo. He would go to her whenever he had to drain himself emotionally and physically—and as she had promised on the night Bill realized Beatrix definitely wasn't coming back—Elle was always there for him. Always. It was scary to a point, but it was also kind of…sweet.

Did he love Elle? The question haunted him at night, long after Elle had fallen asleep, her blonde tresses tickling his creased chest. He loved Elle, but it wasn't in the same way he loved Beatrix. It never would be, and Elle probably knew it too. For now, she was content to be at his side. And he was fine with that. He didn't drop the L-word often because she devoured it like a hungry seagull that nabs a piece of bread crust on the beach. Less was more when it came to her.

In his mind, he always compared them, although he knew better than to voice these comparisons aloud. Elle was snappy, Beatrix was sarcastic. Elle was psychotic, Beatrix was vicious. They also had lots in common: Elle was blonde, Beatrix was blonde. Elle was tall and gangly, Beatrix was tall and gangly. Elle wanted to be with Bill. Beatrix was with Bill…until...she ran off to be with that fucking jerk "Tommy".

Bill finished grating the cheese and put it on the dining room table next to the other two dishes he'd brought out earlier. Last, but not least, the chicken, the beverages (water for B.B. of course) and the table settings. B.B. could help him with that; she always loved to pitch in. He went back to the kitchen.

Just when he thought they were similar, even if it was just in physical appearance, their differences would loom before him. Elle had one blue eye, Beatrix had two, Bill thought. A dark smirk crossed his face. But on a serious note, there were definite distinctions between both women and how they related to Bill. Elle was a sycophant and Bill's biggest fan. She was eager and too agreeable which presented no challenge to him. Sometimes he looked at her more as an acquisition, than a lover. Maybe it was wrong, but it wasn't entirely untrue. Even if Elle was aware of how Bill felt about her in that sense, she still remained glued to his side.

Beatrix was a different chapter in a different book with a different subject and genre. Whereas Elle was a short poem, finite and fun to read, but not too difficult to figure out; Beatrix was an ongoing series, with twists and swerves at the turn of each page. Bill never grew bored with her. She was resistant, put up fronts, and loved to run from Bill. In turn, Bill loved to chase her. It was a game they played, cat and mouse, where eventually the conniving mouse allowed herself to be consumed by the tomcat. They ran into each other, and at one point, on top of each other…from there Bill knew they had crossed a boundary, and Beatrix knew it too, but she was wholly satisfied when they finally consummated their relationship. Aside from the physical aspect of their "romance", Bill found he could go back and forth with Beatrix all day in their love-hate relationship. They could bicker without either one raising their voices and try to outdo each other until finally they'd turn in for the night only to begin again the next day.

Elle was Elle and Beatrix was Beatrix, he often mused.

Still, Bill swore he loved Elle, even if his version of "love" where it concerned her was self-serving and twisted. He had fallen for Elle, even if it wasn't a "normal" type of love—as if Bill was a normal person himself, which he knew he wasn't. He lived a wild and comfortable lifestyle making his money off of ending the lives of others. He didn't do that anymore, not since the massacre at Two Pines. Now he tried to be a normal father living a normal life. But then again what was 'normal'? If a psychologist were to assess Bill and Elle's relationship, she'd classify it as a distorted one, where one was beneath the other, where one was always giving and the other always taking. It didn't take a genius to figure out who was doing most of the giving. Elle, the California Mountain Snake. The more she gave, the more he took. Elle was aware of this, and still she gave and gave all for Bill's taking.

As for who was beneath whom? Bill grinned. Elle was beneath him…in more aspects than one. Ya got that stupid cunt wrapped aroun' your dick, Bill, an' of course, she's too blonde to see it. Those were the wonderful words that came from his oh-so-intelligent brother, Budd. Stupid Budd never liked blondes especially ones like Beatrix Kiddo and Elle Driver. However, he tended to speak more kindly of Beatrix despite what she'd done to Bill. Elle Driver on the other hand…

Budd could dive into a pit in Hell and cook until he was burnt to a crisp, Bill thought. He doesn't know jack shit about why I love Elle. Bill was a distorted individual and so was Elle. They were cold-blooded assassins after all, but even in that confusing and graying distortion, Bill could still clearly understand why Elle had captured his heart—even if it was just a sliver of it and enough to make him want to keep her by his side.

He loved Elle because when he tried to raise B.B. as best he could, Elle was there to give him some tips. Not that she knew a lot off hand. It was hard to picture someone like Elle with a smatter of maternal instincts, but she did the best she could. On occasion, she would buy a new toy for B.B. or an outfit for her to wear when they went out to eat together at the local restaurants. She wasn't the mother of his little girl, but she showed some interest, even if it was very little. She wasn't a loving mother, not by a long shot, but she was there to watch B.B. when he went to Japan to see Sofie Fatale.

In the end, it didn't have a thing to do with B.B., Bill thought. It had to do with the main difference between Beatrix and Elle.

He treasured Elle's honesty. Bill considered himself to be a murdering bastard—and an honest one at that. He was cruel, but he told the truth and he prized that fact about himself. And he appreciated this same quality about Elle. She could be loud and obnoxious at times, but she was real. She didn't hide who she was from the rest of the world. She didn't pretend to be something she wasn't.

Beatrix had betrayed him. She lied to him about who she was, about their relationship, how much it meant to her, and every damn thing he could think of. He could never trust her to tell him the complete and unabridged truth, a fact that he despised, especially when he found out about her getting married to that little shit-head down in El Paso. When Beatrix finally confronted him, he would use the Truth Serum he'd been secretly concocting. Until then, he wondered if she had ever loved him, especially after she ran away and pretended to be dead. To Bill, the cruelest thing a person could do was pretend they were dead when in actuality they were alive and well.

Bill felt Elle's open hostility was better than Beatrix pretending that she loved him. Make no mistake about it, he was deeply hurt and infuriated when he found out she was getting hitched to some…music lover.

As much as he cared for Elle in his own warped way, she still fell short in Bill's eyes so that she was simply a princess to him. The queen of Bill's heart?

B.B.

B.B. was the queen of his heart, the joy of his life, and his perfect pride. Bill never wanted kids in the past. They would've halted his career as leader of the assassination squad. He didn't have the patience for them; kids were annoying and smelled. A baby girl with half his gene code was the furthest thing on his mind when he shot Beatrix in the head. At the time, he figured he'd kill his lover and the baby she was carrying, having no idea it was his…until six months later.

Once Bill first saw B.B., his heart melted like a chocolate bar laid out on a patio on a hot summer day. He never knew what it meant to be tender and gentle until he held B.B. for the first time in his arms, minutes after she was born. He never liked to think of the procedure that was done to Beatrix in order for him have his daughter so that he could raise her, but he liked to believe that in the end it all worked out. Four years later and B.B. still brought out his sweet side, the side that only Beatrix knew about.

Bill's love for her was totally pure. It was not tinted as in the case of Elle, or shaded as in the case of Beatrix. Bill often wondered what B.B. would be like when she grew up. Beautiful? Intelligent? Seductive? Aggressive? Submissive? Sweet? Innocent? Manipulative? Funny? Serious? Would she be like her mother? Beautiful, intriguing, and witty, but a pathological liar? Would she be like her father? Incredibly skilled in various martial arts, ambitious, and given to overreacting to the extreme? Would she lie and connive to get what she wanted? Or would she be free of any of her parents' negative traits and blossom into a lovely young lady, who would break the boys' hearts? Would she stand tall and strong with integrity and high standards, earn top grades in her classes, and go on to graduate from an Ivy League school?

No matter what happened; he would always have high aspirations for his little girl. He observed that she was a fast learner and so he began teaching her new words to expand her vocabulary. Lately, B.B. was obsessed with the word gorgeous. Probably because whenever B.B. asked what her mother looked like, Bill would show her a picture and mention the word. Your mother is a gorgeous woman. Like mother like daughter: B.B. was gorgeous and Bill made sure he always told her so. He also made sure she knew of her brains' capacity, so he began to teach her the word "intelligent."

B.B. became the queen of his world and when he took care of her, he always saw Beatrix in his mind. He took care of B.B. the best way he thought the mother of his child would approve of. Considering that Bill never even knew his own mother—the only thing he did know was that she was a prostitute who worked for his "father" Esteban Vihaio and that she had raised him for three years before the Mexican pimp took over the child rearing duties. Bill did the best he could and protected her. B.B. would never know of his past life and he would never allow it to interfere with his daughter's new life. The sins of the father (and mother) should not be passed onto the daughter. He would give her everything she wanted, needed, and asked for. She would be the quintessential Daddy's Little Girl.

And who had the perfect timing to come in at this moment?

"Daddy, I'm hungry!"

Bill smiled at B.B. clad in her purple nightgown. She was adorable and right then he wanted to hug her forever.

"Wanna help set the table, sweetheart?"

oOo

"Damn…he's still not answering," Bill muttered as he tossed the cell-phone beside him. "I bet he knows it's me."

It was two hours after dinner. Supper had been eaten quietly, the tacos devoured. Elle had mused in her mind about Beatrix's return while Bill spoke quietly with B.B. Now Bill sat back on his couch in the living room. Elle sat next to him with B.B.'s head on her lap. Elle patted B.B.'s hair and noticed the little girl cringe under her touch, as if B.B. was well aware of the fact that a complete stranger and not her birth mother caressed her. Elle gently moved her off so that B.B.'s head lay against Bill's lap.

"Give it up, Bill. He—"

B.B. sat up abruptly and met Elle's and her father's gaze. "It's sleepy time now."

Bill gave Elle a knowing glance. "In a minute darling. Daddy has to make one more important phone call."

B.B. watched him dial a number.

"May I please speak to Ms. Jeannie Bell?"

"Daddy," She stretched the word so that it sounded like 'Daaaadeeee'. "It's sleepy time!"

Bill put his hand over the phone's speaker. "Sweetie, give Daddy one minute and he'll tuck you in bed."

B.B. nodded and waited. She watched her father as he pressed his cell-phone to his ear and spoke in a quiet tone.

"Jeannie Bell? Is that what we're calling ourselves these days?" Bill paused, and a light smile crossed his face when he met B.B.'s insistent gaze. "I need you to drop by this weekend...yes, it's very important…yes." He stopped. "B.B. can you please leave the room for just a minute?"

B.B. picked up her doll and left the living room. She went into the kitchen and Elle followed her in.

"Hey little rascal, want desert?"

B.B. shook her head. "No thank you, Auntie Elle."

"You sure, sweets?"

"Uh-huh."

"Wanna play tea party?"

"No, thank you."

"Okay—oh look, here comes Daddy."

Bill entered the kitchen and opened his arms. B.B. ran and hugged him, nearly knocking him over. Over B.B. he said to Elle, "She's coming by this weekend so that we can…well, you know."

"Who's coming, Daddy?"

Bill turned to her, realizing he didn't tell her anything just yet. He temporarily forgot about Elle as his attention went to his daughter. "A good friend of Daddy's that he hasn't seen in a long while. Her name is Vernita."

B.B. blinked as if confused. "I thought when you called her…that her name was Jeannie."

"That's her middle name, sweetheart."

"Ooohhh."

"She's coming by this weekend and you can meet her. She has a little girl just like you."

"Is she bringing her over so we can play?"

"I'm afraid not." Bill shook his head. "But guess who else is coming!"

B.B. shrugged.

"Uncle Budd!"

"I miss Uncle Budd!"

Bill nodded. "I know…right now I'm not sure if he's coming, but Daddy's working on getting him to come over so you can see him." He knelt down next to her and rubbed her cheek. "You're his only niece."

"His one and only!"

"Yes, and he loves you…he just has to talk some stuff over with Daddy. Then you can play with him."

B.B. was intelligent and went back to the first thing her father mentioned. "What kind of things?"

"Grown-up stuff. Elle, can you get me that package I left on the sofa?" Bill ruffled his daughter's hair. "Ready for sleepy time?"

"Yeah!"

"Hey, I got you something." Elle brought in the package, handing it to him. "Thanks." He kissed her briefly on the lips and then turned back to B.B. "Time for sleepy time."

Bill left the kitchen taking B.B. with him. They ascended the staircase that would take them to her room. "Daddy brought something for you when he went to Japan to visit an old friend. Can you guess what it is?"

"More origami!"

"Not until you use up all your pieces. I keep finding pieces of unused origami paper scattered around the house."

"Tatami mat!"

"You already have one in your room."

They had reached the top of the stairs and now headed down the lit hallway. The last door on the right side was B.B.'s room.

"Keep guessing."

"Anime!"

"You have more than enough of that."

"Paper lanterns!"

"Maybe next time."

"Kokeshi dolls?" At this, B.B. smirked and stared at the floor. "I can't find what I did with them, Daddy."

"Have you checked under your bed?"

She shook her head. "Hanko stamp? Folding fan? Mini Zen garden?"

Bill opened the door to her room and B.B. scampered inside. He followed her in and sat down on her bed, holding the package out to her.

"Here…open it up."

B.B. grinned and took the package. She removed it from the bag and then ripped off the paper to reveal a small box. Carefully she took out the children's size kimono. The delicate silk fabrics were bright cerulean blue. Tiny lavender and violet flowers decorated the kimono and hints of hunter green for the stems and leaves gave it an elegant and beautiful touch. B.B.'s brown eyes met her father's and she smiled widely. She handed it back to her father. Knowing what to do, Bill held it open for her while B.B. slipped her arms through to wear it over her nightgown like a robe. She turned around and planted a kiss on her father's cheek.

"Thank you, Daddy."

"Your welcome, sweetie."

She walked around the room in it as if parading down a fashion runway.

"Do you like your kimono, B.B.?"

"It's…" B.B. frowned, in serious thought. Finally the word came to her. "Gorgeous!"

"Very good word."

"It has my favorite color, blue."

Bill nodded. "Blue like Mommy's eyes."

B.B. ran to her dresser and grabbed the picture she had of her mother. "She's so pretty."

"Yes…she is." Bill paused and then patted the bed. "Sit down, B.B. I have to tell you something very important…it's about Mommy."

B.B.'s eyes widened like pools of sepia. She sat down quietly on the bed and gazed into her aged and serious father's face. She took off the kimono and put it on the bed.

"You know…Mommy's been asleep for a long time…"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Well…Mommy is coming to see you very soon. Remember last month you asked about Mommy being asleep and I told you one day she'd wake up—"

"And come back to me?"

"That's right…she's coming to see you."

B.B.'s eyes lit up brightly like lightning striking the sky at midnight. Then her smile weakened, but still remained strong. "If Mommy's been asleep since I was born…how will she know what I look like?"

Bill thought about it. Good question. He caressed B.B.'s cheek and ruffled her hair. "Because Mommy's been dreaming of you."

"I want to dream of her too!"

"You can baby…you have this gorgeous picture of her."

Bill picked up a framed picture of Beatrix atop B.B.'s dresser. He gave it to B.B. who sighed lovingly like a mother does when she watches her little girl and feels pride swell in her heart.

"She's the most beautiful woman I ever saw in the whole white world."

"Wide world, B.B."

B.B. rubbed her head. "Wide." She yawned.

Bill smiled. B.B. made several humorous mispronunciations due to her young age as she tried to grasp the English language. "White" instead of "wide" was one of many. Instead of saying "I'm nervous," she'd end up saying "I was nervousing" or "evinence" for "evidence." Bill noticed her yawning again.

"Ready for sleepy time?"

"Mmm-hmm."

B.B. climbed into bed while Bill picked up the box and put it a nearby chair. When Bill came back, she gave him the picture of her mother and he set it aside on the dresser next to the bed.

"Do you think she'll like me?"

"Of course, she will. And she won't just like you…she'll love you." Bill gently moved the bangs out of B.B.'s face and kissed her on the forehead. "She's always with you no matter what."

"I'm going to dream about her."

"She will love that. When she comes you can tell her that you had the most beautiful dream about her." Bill pulled the blanket up to B.B.'s chin and gave her the doll she always carried with her. "Good night, sweetie."

Bill walked backwards slowly as he watched sleep overtake B.B.

"Daddy?"

He knew she wasn't totally asleep yet. "Yes?"

"Can I wear my kimono for when Mommy comes home?"

"We'll see…okay?"

"Okay…good night, Daddy."

"Night sweetheart."

Bill was standing in the doorway when B.B.'s head plopped on the pillow and she pulled her doll close to her. Moments later, she was sleeping softly, her tiny form still covered by the blanket. He closed the door and kept it a notch open in case she needed to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. After taking one last look at her, he made his way down the lit hallway.

Finally, Bill allowed himself to think about Beatrix and what he'd done to her those four years ago. He never stopped thinking about her after Two Pines. Every waking moment, he saw her bloodied face looking up at him trying to tell him that she was carrying his child. He didn't realize the weight of what she said that day until long after Beatrix was placed in a hospital wrapped in a coma. At the time, he had his mind focused on one task: and that was ending the life of the woman he once loved.

Bill wasn't one to regret anything he'd ever done. He believed you had one life to live and you couldn't waste it worrying or regretting. His entire adult life he spent ending the lives of others, dealing out fatalities that were not his to call. Assassination was permanent; there was no coming back from it. No undoing death. Yet after he shot Beatrix, he regretted it. Not so much for fear of her retaliation, but because as angry as he was when he found out she was getting hitched to that nobody—he still wanted her in his life. He wanted her extinct, but he still wanted her alive. Bill could never figure out which one it was, probably a mixture of both. There had never been anyone like Beatrix in his life that challenged, loved, and hated him all at once.

Yet right after Two Pines, Bill was hit with a deep sadness he had never experienced or felt before. It was like a well run dry and no matter how much rain poured into it, the well would never be full enough. That's how Bill compared his hurt too—he could think about what he did all day and all night all those four years and it never went away, it never seemed to be enough for the crime of betrayal he committed against her. The sadness was an unquenchable thirst that never left him. At Two Pines, Bill finally knew the meaning behind the phrase "murder is a crime of passion." There was little emotion on prior assignments and associated with targets. It was hit and run and make money at the end of the day.

Two Pines was totally different. There were boiling emotions attached to the target this time. Beatrix Kiddo wasn't an ordinary hit; she was his lover and the mother of his child. When he shot her in the head, only later did he realize he had done something that he knew couldn't be undone. After performing her coup de grâce, Bill had stood over her after the other Vipers had left the chapel. He looked down at her still form as blood pooled out from her head amid skull fragments and piece of gray mush that he figured was a piece of her brain. He was fascinated by her dead body—or what he thought was her corpse at the time, in the first stages of rigor mortis.

He remembered kneeling down beside her and kissing her one last time on the lips. He touched her white wedding gown, now soiled and ruined. The wet sickly smell of her sweat and blood mixed together hit him and he realized what he'd done. He had ordered her execution and the Vipers had followed through. Most importantly, he had followed through and Beatrix Kiddo learned the fatal consequences of what happens when you break a murdering bastard's heart. He was thoroughly pleased at the time and he was the last one to leave Two Pines. Even now he heard his loud footsteps echoing in his ears as he left her for dead in the center of the building along with the eight dead people from her wedding party.

He hoped one day that he would be able to explain to B.B. the grave mistake he had made and the deep regret he felt about the entire matter. When he looked into B.B.'s face, he knew he should be proud of their little girl. It was especially during those times that he felt haunted by the incident at Two Pines and he knew it would never leave his memory.

Obviously it hadn't left Beatrix's mind either. That was evident just from what Bill found out from Sofie Fatale. If O-Ren was first, there was no telling who would be next on her death list. Elle? Budd? Vernita? Bill headed downstairs to talk to Elle.

oOo

Elle waited for Bill to come back from tucking B.B. in bed. She wasn't crazy about B.B. especially because the child wasn't even hers. B.B. was sweet, but she seemed to have an inner knowing of who Elle truly was. Something Elle was dimly aware of, especially tonight when B.B. cringed under her touch. Whatever. Elle didn't plan on having kids so it didn't matter to her. Right now she had more important things spinning in her mind.

That bitch woke up from her coma, Elle thought, fuming at the idea. This shit wouldn't have happened if Bill had let me kill her when she was knocked out on her back in that dreary hospital. But nope, Bill still carried a torch for his ex-lover like those Olympic people who wandered around the world with the torch before bringing it to its final destination. Elle felt like vomiting her inner organs at the idea of Beatrix being alive. How could that scrawny twat wake up after all this time? She wondered. Of course, she wouldn't voice that in front of Bill.

On the bright side, it meant she could beat the bullshit out of Beatrix again since there was no question that she was coming for her. Elle chuckled. What was that called in poetry when you used the same consonant several times in a row? Alliteration?

"Beat the bullshit out of Beatrix," she said aloud. "Again."

Elle loved to fantasize and not just about hot sex with Bill, but about how she'd tear Beatrix up again for the final time. Where could she start? She could use a knife to cut up her pretty little face. That was taking away from Vernita. Vern was the knife lady of the squad, Elle grinned. Then again imitation is the best form of flattery. In that case, Elle imagined herself carving her initials on Beatrix's stomach. Even better, she would carve: Elle loves Bill loves Elle.

"That'd be a shitter!" Elle muttered.

She could rip her hair out from the roots; punch her eyes to the point where she wouldn't be able to open them as she had done at Two Pines. Elle entertained the idea of shooting her in the heart, but that would end the fight too soon. Beatrix had to suffer to her last breath. She deserved to. She had to die gasping and begging for her death, which would be very slow and painful, if Elle had her way. Then it flashed before her like a movie on a wide screen: what if she disemboweled Bea while she was still alive? Elle's eye blinked as she pictured it in her mind, Beatrix mumbling and holding her spilling bloodied intestines.

"Sweet."

How could she do it? Simple—she'd get her hands on Beatrix's Hanzo sword. What better way to conclude the life of The Bitch who had always competed against her in everything, from Bill's affection, to being the better fighter and woman, and as the prettier and more charismatic blonde. What a great way to go down: by her very own sword. She would deserve it after she made Hanzo make her onewhen that stupid oaf swore to never create an "instrument of death" or whatever he called it. Yeah, impale her on her own sword. What beautiful fucking irony.

And really it boiled down to a matter of respect. No matter how much Elle Driver hated Beatrix Kiddo, there was another thing she hated to admit, yet it was the truth. And that was she respected Beatrix. She respected her for being the best at her game when she was involved in the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad. Too bad she fell from grace.

"When you fell, Bea, it's like you jumped off the tallest fucking skyscraper in New York City and landed head first busting your little skull wide open."

Elle jolted and an orgasmic warmth spilled over her body at the idea of Beatrix Kiddo landing head first after diving off the Empire State Building. It was good that she awoke from her coma. The more Elle thought about it, the better it was. It meant that she woke up so that her worst enemy could put her back down again for good. O-Ren and her Yakuza couldn't even touch Beatrix; Sofie was a pitiful crybaby, so it was up to Elle to take care of Black Mamba. That's how she viewed it. As bad-ass as O-Ren thought she was ordering around her personal army and having a psycho bodyguard at her side, Elle thought smirking, they all crashed down like dominoes. And Budd better not interefere with her plans otherwise he had something coming to him.

This time it would be woman to woman, one on one, she thought, as it should've been all along. Elle settled back on the couch in the living room. She itched to have a cigarette, but couldn't because she was in Bill's hacienda. She had gone outside and smoked an entire pack before Bill called her in for dinner. Elle had went through the cigarettes like a child devouring their stash of Halloween candy. Bill hated her smoking inside the house. Almost as much as I hate that little two-bit bimbo bitch, Elle mused. Heh, more alliteration. She was about to go smoke outside when Bill entered the living room, pointing at her. There was no question in what he said next and no room for deliberation.

"You're picking up Vernita at the airport…tomorrow evening at six-thirty."