*Hey…I'm kinda gonna be making this up as I go along, I have no plan whatsoever…hope it turns out okay…review and favorite please!*

*Chapter 14*

MINDY'S POV

"Oh my God," Alicia said.

Over.

And over.

And over again.

"Oh my God!" she squealed.

I was actually kind of happy that she was doing said squealing, however, because this time, she wasn't doing it right after throwing up.

And she wasn't doing it because she just "killed two fucking people."

Which she did, tonight too.

But this time she was psyched.

"Oh my God!" she said again. "Did you see me? I was a fuckin' beast!"

I saw you up against the wall getting your ass kicked, I almost said, but I controlled myself, because truth be told, I was kind of happy she was getting the hang of this.

She was way too deep in to back out now, and if this hadn't worked out, she could have gotten scared and told Marcus- and gotten my ass caught.

"Good job," Dave murmured, clearly burnt out from tonight's events, and dragging his Wal Mart quality hiking boots on the cold concrete.

I didn't blame him, I was already sore as hell, especially in the chest and abs, where I'd gotten shot numerous times.

Gingerly, I zipped my jacket down, and began the tedious task of picking all of the rounds out of my vest, and letting them clink to the ground in a trail behind me.

Alicia showed no signs of fatigue at all, however- she was practically skipping up the sidewalk, a huge smile plastered on her face.

In her all black outfit and now smeared makeup…yeah, she looked crazy, but she was happy, and I tried to echo her mood.

Behind my attempts to be as stoked as Alicia, however, I felt like shit.

While I was glad that Alicia's first bust had gone well, and I was pumped beyond belief about just being Hit Girl again, I was sweaty, tired, and sore, and couldn't wait to go home and take a ridiculously long bath.

Too bad it was 2 am, and i was gonna have to get up at seven the next day.

The walk back home was uneventful- Alicia not being able to shut the hell up, and Dave barely being able to talk at all, besides an occasional "that hurt like hell".

True, I had seen him take a serious beating, but what about those effed up nerve endings? Didn't that help at all?

I didn't want to complain, but I couldn't help thinking Dave was being a pussy for complaining at all.

Dave went down the opposite street home, and I followed Alicia into the kitchen, as she continued to rant about how badass she had been tonight.

I was impressed sure, but I wasn't thinking about that- all I could think about was that bath I wanted.

"Will you fucking lower the volume?" I asked, as we made our way to the island.

I didn't want to spoil Alicia's debut as a vigilante by waking up Marcus.

She quieted, but continued to chatter as I took out Marcus' impressive medical grade first aid kit, and plopped myself on the counter.

I peeled off the purple leather jacket that I usually loved, but always resented after a long night, and stripped off the gauze on my gunshot wound from that first night, when we had gone to Mel's and told Alicia everything.

I carefully swabbed it clean, biting my lip as it stung, and re-bandaged myself.

I also watched on in amusement, as Alicia blindly wiped the makeup out of her eyes, and then moved to her bleeding nose, to little avail.

"Oh my goodness, just fucking let me…" I grabbed the moist towelette out of her hand, and went to work on her bloody face.

"Did you see when I stabbed-"

"Can you stop talking for one second?" I demanded. "I get that you're pumped, but I can't clean you up if your ridiculously expressive face won't stop fucking moving."

"Sorry."

She was silent as I finished up, and then grabbed her arm to check on the superficial slices crisscrossing up her forearms.

"Funny, I didn't even feel those," she smiled.

After I was done and she was all wrapped up, she looked at me, a weird smirk on her face.

"You're surprisingly gentle with a first aid kit for a murderer," she said.

I scoffed, and childishly pressed harder with the alcohol swab.

"Yeah, well don't expect a fucking kiss on your boo boo," I sneered, and she actually smiled.

Like she was toughening up and starting to get/ appreciate my humor.

Out of nowhere, she started laughing.

"Dave is a piece of fucking work when he fights," she grinned at me.

And yeah….we had out little cheesy laugh-together, cause I admitted she was right. Watching him flail his batons and wave his gun around like a flag was kind of hilarious.

I didn't notice how loud our laughter was escalating, or how obnoxious our swear-word-filled-shit-on-Dave was getting.

At least until a striped pajama clad figure in the doorway cleared his throat and looked over at us, flicking on the second light switch, bathing the room in a second coat of unforgiving fluorescents.

With the light twice as bright, there was no mistaking him.

Or us, for that matter.

"Hi, Uncle Marcus," Alicia said.

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