A/n: This is a quick 'between chapters chapter' in response to the PMs and reviews asking to see Giana in RedHeaded pissed off mode. My mom's sisters are both redheads and I'm here to Witness…the rumors are true. They're awesome gals 'til they're not, and then you'd better sleep with one eye open and change all of your computer passwords.

If you're planning to get offended by the words I use, please don't read. I could bore you with my credentials, but suffice to say the views of the drunk guy in this story are not my own.

Enjoy!

Gia and Les stood, wrapped around each other, while they murmured sweet nothings to each other, oblivious of the crowd at Shorty's. They'd gathered there with a few of the Merry Men for Steph's monthly Shorty's Night, along with Vaughn and Mark. Twice they'd been good-naturedly berated for their PDA, and twice they'd found their way back to one another. Vaughn, in particular, made noise about how gross it was to see his baby sister act like a tramp in public, but it was said with no real malice and he wore a smile to take the sting of his words; truly, it thrilled him. For the first time ever, they were both happily spoken for. He knew his sister loved Hector – hell, she'd perjured herself to keep him free and safe. He didn't know much about Lester yet, but the adoration he felt for Gia was obvious and that, for now, was enough.

They were about two hours into their evening of beer, pizza, and betting on poorly executed pool games when 'Code Red', as it came to be known, happened.

Giana was engaged in some giggly girl talk with Stephanie while Hector looked on, amused. Ranger and Les were trying to outdo each other at snooker, and Mark and Vaughn were taking turns taunting Lester when his turn was up. They were so boisterous they bordered on obnoxious, so of course all the Merry Men were egging them on. Just as the girls and Hector were coming to join the mêlée, Vaughn passed by them on his way to the restroom and pressed a brief, inconspicuous kiss to Hector's lips before continuing past them.

A man, average in height and below average in intelligence, just happened to be exiting the restroom when Vaughn was passing Hector. With a disgusted snort, the man muttered, "Fucking fags." while shooting a repulsed glare at the men.

Vaughn, surprised, could only stutter, "Excuse me?" in a low tone; surely he'd misunderstood.

The man, who they would later learn was called Earl (and isn't it always an Earl?) drew himself up to his unimpressive height before spitting, "I said, faggot. Isn't that what you wanted, some attention? You two perverts making out in public, you know you're drawing attention and you love it. It's sick."

By now, a couple of the Merry Men had clued in to what was going on and were surreptitiously watching the scene unfold, none being willing to step in and cut Vaughn off before he had a chance to defend himself. It was a right they would have afforded any man; there was pride and honor to be had in fighting your own battles, and none of them would rob him of it.

Their good intentions, however, were for naught because Giana spun slowly, eyes alarmingly wide, before saying, "What did you just say to my brother?"

"Oh, shit." Mark's whispered curse sounded off, almost like he was a little scared. Les spared him only a momentary glance; no way was he letting this guy pop off to his girlfriend, no matter how mad she might get at him later for it. Mark stood, wide eyed, not moving and apparently trying not to breathe too loudly, almost like he was trying to hide from a predator. Strange.

Hector made a move to stand between the girls and the man from the bathroom, whose malice only seemed to increase when Giana spoke. She gripped his wrist, stilling him, her eyes never leaving the man.

"I said, your brother here is a nasty sexual deviant and he needs to keep that shit where decent folks won't be tainted by it." He spit on the floor in front of Vaughn, who was standing in open-mouthed disbelief.

Giana's face was slowly changing color, from her natural peaches-and-cream complexion to a molten, blotchy red. With her teeth gritted, she ground out, "Listen up, you thin-dick closet case. I don't care what kind of sister-loving backwoods donkey-humping cult you worship at that tells you who is and isn't living the right way; if you EVER talk to my brother like that again, I'm going to beat your sorry ass." Her voice had grown increasingly louder, her stance rigid and unyielding. The madder she got, the thicker her faint accent grew until she sounded like she'd sprung straight from the hills of the South. By now, the game of snooker was abandoned and the Merry Men were watching the scene unfold, ready to step in. Behind them, Mark was whispering, over and over, "Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit…" while nervously twisting his hands together. When Bobby opened his mouth to interrupt the brewing tension, Mark flapped his hands at him and hissed, "Shhh! You're going to make it worse!"

The man from the bathroom, deciding being 'right' was more important than leaving the restaurant in one piece, looked straight into Gia's face and, inscrutably, barked out, "Faggot."

Less than ten seconds later, he lay retching and writhing on the ground, trying desperately to scrabble away from Giana as she proceeded to carry out her promise to beat his sorry ass. He sort of resembled a wounded dog that had been run over and chewed on a little; hair pulled straight out with a good-sized clump missing, a bruised and rapidly swollen eye, and a trickle of blood coming from the split in his lip. She was relentless, shoving off the hands of her friends as they tried (unconvincingly) to separate them. Just as she was raising her foot to stomp on his already broken hand again, Lester stepped around the mass of bodies and lifted her, by the waist, and walked her away from the man.

"I will set you on fire and beat the flames out with a baseball bat, you sonovabitch! Go on, call my brother another name! DO IT!" She continued to screech insults at him, even as Lester carried her out of the bar and rushed her toward the car, Vaughn and Hector close on his heels.

Safely secured, they took off out of the parking lot and whizzed through the alley, taking a roundabout way back home from Shorty's.

"Why the hell did you pull me off of him!?" She screeched. She was mad and spoiling for a fight, and in that instant, Les understood completely Mark's reaction to seeing her wind up at the man's taunting.

Choosing his words carefully, he said, "Baby, if someone eating there happened to call the cops, you can't be there when they arrive. The guys can say they didn't know who you were."

"I wasn't done!" she snapped, folding her arms and turning to glare out the window.

From the backseat came a snort. Lester's eyebrows shot toward his hairline; in all the time he'd known him, he had never seen Hector smile, much less laugh. Now, Hec was clutching his stomach and shaking in silent laughter, his eyes screwed shut while his shoulders convulsed. Vaughn was chuckling, more at Hector's obvious glee than Gia's fight, but the mood lightened considerably.

"Chica, you were like el gato montès! Remind me not to offend you, I am too young to die." And that set him off again.

Risking a glance at Giana, Les was relieved to see her fighting a smile. He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips, not taking his eyes off the road, before kissing the back of her hand. "Alright?" he murmured, his face mirroring the concern he felt.

"I'd be better if he was peeing blood into a cath bag tomorrow, but I'll recover." she sniffed as they sped off into the night.

*Hector called her a 'wildcat', and some of the fight dialog was witnessed by yours truly at a drag show. It was as epic as you're imagining.