Disclaimer; Dallas Winston and co. are the property of the lovely S.E.
Hinton, while Edward/Ted Forrester/Death/The Undertaker, and his um,
business associates are the property of the absolute goddess Laurell K.
Hamilton.
A/N- This is kind of an alternate 'verse. Dally made it, but Johnny's dead. I had to move the dating to make Dally's age viable against Edward's, so I moved the events of the story to the present year, being 2004. Anyhow, if any of you have come across my other Anita stories, they're typically under Jaws, or Jawsslmshdy and get damn good reviews, so I know I got Ed and his crew down. This is my first foray into Outsiders Fanfic though, so don't bust your gut up too awful bad while you're laughing. 'Till later. With alcohol for all y'all, Jaws.
Chapter 1
My eyes are the color of ice. They've been that way since I was ten. They got worse when I was 13. They didn't stop getting colder. They keep on getting more and more blue as time passes me by, the temperature always dropping. They haven't changed much in the past year though. Ever since I got shot up, nothing doing. I guess there's really no way for them to get any colder than they already are. My three bullets to the chest have completely healed now. I didn't call the boys though. No reason. The kid's dead. That other kid, the youngest one, he's okay. I saw him completely pass out when I hit the ground after the third shot. He thought I was dead; they all did. I'm not. But that one kid, I think he actually likes me. I think he might have really cared. I feel a little bad though, about not telling the boys I'm alive. But hey, they're better off without me right?
I'm living in Santa Fe now. I figured that if anything could melt my eyes, it'd be the desert heat, but no go so far. Still cold. My luck hasn't changed much. I boosted a car and started driving last night. Me being the dumb fuck that I am, I didn't think to check the gas as I went through the last town. So now I was testing my boots, strolling along the side of a deserted back country road. Nothing but dirt on either side of me, and a house coming up quick.
The house was pretty normal for this state. One story, sprawling and white washed with blue shutters. But there was a big black hummer sitting outside of this house. I could feel myself smiling. My luck was looking up. I pulled a set of picks out of my jacket pocket and set to work, only to be interrupted a few seconds later by a piece of cold metal against the back of my skull. I smiled a little more and put my lock picks in my jacket pocket. I turned around slowly to face the bearer of the gun. He looked a little like me. Pale blonde hair, though it was neatly cut, blue eyes as icy as my own, and a slender build, topping off at 2 inches shy of 6 foot. He was wearing all black too.
I kept on smiling at him. "Do it." I said smoothly. Hey, if he killed me I didn't have to worry about getting a ride back to Santa Fe from somewhere. I wouldn't mind dying. Don't especially want to, but wouldn't mind it. He gave me a considering look before making the gun disappear. I tried not to let the disappointment show. He looked me over, from the bottoms of my scuffed black boots, to the top of my messy blonde head. "What's your name?" He asked quietly, his voice inflectionless. I debated my answer for a few seconds. Oh well, I doubt someone holding a brand new Berretta nine mil to a persons head was gonna call the cops. "Dally." He nodded once. "Edward." I smirked. "Hi, Edward. Since you're apparently not going to shoot me, and I seriously doubt I'm gonna have the good luck for you to hand me the car keys, I'm outta here." I spun away and started walking, relishing the feel of my boot heels on the black top. "Dally." His voice never rose, but I looked over my shoulder. "You look like you could use a place to stay. Come on in."
I never have been one to look a gift horse in the mouth. I shrugged and walked back to him. "Whatever." I meant Thank-You, but I'm a greaser, I couldn't say that. He seemed to get that. I trailed him into the house, which was exploding with color. The furniture was all different shades of reds and blues, and the walls were white, with colorful decorations everywhere. It didn't fit the man at all.
"Dude, someone spill paint?" I asked disbelievingly. I've never seen that kind of chaos in a relatively quiet, empty place. He smiled slightly. "I usually stick with black and white. A...friend of mine suggested that if I didn't stop with the monochromic thing she was going to buy me pictures of clowns and put them everywhere. I added enough color to give you a head ache in order to avoid the clowns."
I snorted. "This friend wouldn't happen to be female would she?" That was the only reason a normally sane man would live in this mess. He studied me dully, without any interest whatsoever. "Yes." I nodded once. "I get ya. Normally stable men will do anything for the right broad." "Quite. Are you hungry?" "Only if you got food." I answered distractedly. He smirked. "Come on." Ten minutes later I was staring down at a huge sandwich, bag of chips, and a soda. "Damn tuff." I said with a small smile his way. Another thank you. He understood it that time too. He sat down at the table and stared off into space while I pigged out. I cleaned up after myself, putting everything back where he had gotten it from and sticking my plate in the really nifty dishwasher thingy.
I sat back down to nurse my soda, wishing it was something stronger. "How old are you?" He asked finally. "Seventeen." I answered. He nodded once. "No parents?" I shrugged. "Mom hit the road when I was seven. Left me with the old man. He don't really give a damn as long as he doesn't have to post bond." "How were your grades when you were in school?" "What's with the 411?" "Answer the question, I'll tell you soon." I shrugged. "My grades always sucked. The teacher people said I was a genius, but I spent more time in jail than out and after I hit twelve, I moved towns, and I got me a new gang. I spent a lot of time helping the gang, and not too much doing homework. I mostly went cuz I was bored and needed to take care of everybody else. Keep Two-Bit's smart mouth out of trouble and Superman's fists away from the teachers." "I see. What have you been in jail for?" I snorted. "What ain't I been in for? Everything from drunk and disorderly, to DUI, to possession, to Armed robbery, to grand theft auto, to armed assault, to attempted murder, to second degree murder. With a liberal few cases of evading arrest, and brutal assault."
Edward smirked. "Yes, I can see those last two..." I grinned at him. "What can I say? I am a hood. Why shouldn't I look like one?" Edward set his chin on one fist, and looked like he was thinking hard about something. "I need an apprentice." He said finally. "I think you might make a good one." He looked me up and down once more before returning his gaze to my eyes. "What do you mean by apprentice?" I asked slowly. "The line of work I'm in, has a limited number of businessmen. Therefore, it is the duty of all of us to train at least one apprentice before we die. To carry on all of our knowledge and...er, wisdom. For a while I thought I had found one, but he's gone now. I believe that you would make a very good student as soon as we can curb your eyes and clean up your English." "Curb my eyes?" I asked with confusion.
He nodded once. "Yes. Make the ice melt, like this." He smiled and it was happy all the way to his eyes. I sat back warily. "That's freaky man." I aid a second later. The look just disappeared and I was looking into his blank face once more. "It took some practice." He admitted. "What is your...ah, occupation anyhow?" He smiled again, but this time it didn't hit his eyes. "I'm an assassin."
A/N- This is kind of an alternate 'verse. Dally made it, but Johnny's dead. I had to move the dating to make Dally's age viable against Edward's, so I moved the events of the story to the present year, being 2004. Anyhow, if any of you have come across my other Anita stories, they're typically under Jaws, or Jawsslmshdy and get damn good reviews, so I know I got Ed and his crew down. This is my first foray into Outsiders Fanfic though, so don't bust your gut up too awful bad while you're laughing. 'Till later. With alcohol for all y'all, Jaws.
Chapter 1
My eyes are the color of ice. They've been that way since I was ten. They got worse when I was 13. They didn't stop getting colder. They keep on getting more and more blue as time passes me by, the temperature always dropping. They haven't changed much in the past year though. Ever since I got shot up, nothing doing. I guess there's really no way for them to get any colder than they already are. My three bullets to the chest have completely healed now. I didn't call the boys though. No reason. The kid's dead. That other kid, the youngest one, he's okay. I saw him completely pass out when I hit the ground after the third shot. He thought I was dead; they all did. I'm not. But that one kid, I think he actually likes me. I think he might have really cared. I feel a little bad though, about not telling the boys I'm alive. But hey, they're better off without me right?
I'm living in Santa Fe now. I figured that if anything could melt my eyes, it'd be the desert heat, but no go so far. Still cold. My luck hasn't changed much. I boosted a car and started driving last night. Me being the dumb fuck that I am, I didn't think to check the gas as I went through the last town. So now I was testing my boots, strolling along the side of a deserted back country road. Nothing but dirt on either side of me, and a house coming up quick.
The house was pretty normal for this state. One story, sprawling and white washed with blue shutters. But there was a big black hummer sitting outside of this house. I could feel myself smiling. My luck was looking up. I pulled a set of picks out of my jacket pocket and set to work, only to be interrupted a few seconds later by a piece of cold metal against the back of my skull. I smiled a little more and put my lock picks in my jacket pocket. I turned around slowly to face the bearer of the gun. He looked a little like me. Pale blonde hair, though it was neatly cut, blue eyes as icy as my own, and a slender build, topping off at 2 inches shy of 6 foot. He was wearing all black too.
I kept on smiling at him. "Do it." I said smoothly. Hey, if he killed me I didn't have to worry about getting a ride back to Santa Fe from somewhere. I wouldn't mind dying. Don't especially want to, but wouldn't mind it. He gave me a considering look before making the gun disappear. I tried not to let the disappointment show. He looked me over, from the bottoms of my scuffed black boots, to the top of my messy blonde head. "What's your name?" He asked quietly, his voice inflectionless. I debated my answer for a few seconds. Oh well, I doubt someone holding a brand new Berretta nine mil to a persons head was gonna call the cops. "Dally." He nodded once. "Edward." I smirked. "Hi, Edward. Since you're apparently not going to shoot me, and I seriously doubt I'm gonna have the good luck for you to hand me the car keys, I'm outta here." I spun away and started walking, relishing the feel of my boot heels on the black top. "Dally." His voice never rose, but I looked over my shoulder. "You look like you could use a place to stay. Come on in."
I never have been one to look a gift horse in the mouth. I shrugged and walked back to him. "Whatever." I meant Thank-You, but I'm a greaser, I couldn't say that. He seemed to get that. I trailed him into the house, which was exploding with color. The furniture was all different shades of reds and blues, and the walls were white, with colorful decorations everywhere. It didn't fit the man at all.
"Dude, someone spill paint?" I asked disbelievingly. I've never seen that kind of chaos in a relatively quiet, empty place. He smiled slightly. "I usually stick with black and white. A...friend of mine suggested that if I didn't stop with the monochromic thing she was going to buy me pictures of clowns and put them everywhere. I added enough color to give you a head ache in order to avoid the clowns."
I snorted. "This friend wouldn't happen to be female would she?" That was the only reason a normally sane man would live in this mess. He studied me dully, without any interest whatsoever. "Yes." I nodded once. "I get ya. Normally stable men will do anything for the right broad." "Quite. Are you hungry?" "Only if you got food." I answered distractedly. He smirked. "Come on." Ten minutes later I was staring down at a huge sandwich, bag of chips, and a soda. "Damn tuff." I said with a small smile his way. Another thank you. He understood it that time too. He sat down at the table and stared off into space while I pigged out. I cleaned up after myself, putting everything back where he had gotten it from and sticking my plate in the really nifty dishwasher thingy.
I sat back down to nurse my soda, wishing it was something stronger. "How old are you?" He asked finally. "Seventeen." I answered. He nodded once. "No parents?" I shrugged. "Mom hit the road when I was seven. Left me with the old man. He don't really give a damn as long as he doesn't have to post bond." "How were your grades when you were in school?" "What's with the 411?" "Answer the question, I'll tell you soon." I shrugged. "My grades always sucked. The teacher people said I was a genius, but I spent more time in jail than out and after I hit twelve, I moved towns, and I got me a new gang. I spent a lot of time helping the gang, and not too much doing homework. I mostly went cuz I was bored and needed to take care of everybody else. Keep Two-Bit's smart mouth out of trouble and Superman's fists away from the teachers." "I see. What have you been in jail for?" I snorted. "What ain't I been in for? Everything from drunk and disorderly, to DUI, to possession, to Armed robbery, to grand theft auto, to armed assault, to attempted murder, to second degree murder. With a liberal few cases of evading arrest, and brutal assault."
Edward smirked. "Yes, I can see those last two..." I grinned at him. "What can I say? I am a hood. Why shouldn't I look like one?" Edward set his chin on one fist, and looked like he was thinking hard about something. "I need an apprentice." He said finally. "I think you might make a good one." He looked me up and down once more before returning his gaze to my eyes. "What do you mean by apprentice?" I asked slowly. "The line of work I'm in, has a limited number of businessmen. Therefore, it is the duty of all of us to train at least one apprentice before we die. To carry on all of our knowledge and...er, wisdom. For a while I thought I had found one, but he's gone now. I believe that you would make a very good student as soon as we can curb your eyes and clean up your English." "Curb my eyes?" I asked with confusion.
He nodded once. "Yes. Make the ice melt, like this." He smiled and it was happy all the way to his eyes. I sat back warily. "That's freaky man." I aid a second later. The look just disappeared and I was looking into his blank face once more. "It took some practice." He admitted. "What is your...ah, occupation anyhow?" He smiled again, but this time it didn't hit his eyes. "I'm an assassin."