Summer is so close I can almost taste it.

-
-AdRenaline
U
S
h

What could I say?
It all seemed to make sense.
I try to see the good in life,
But good things in life are hard to find.
We'll blow it away, blow it away..
- (excerpts of) It's not over, Chris Daughtry

Chapter Three

Hex fidgets in her seat, twisting and turning without so much hope for a comfortable position, and she pointedly ignores the disgruntled look a random guy sends her. What a goddamn no good busy-body, she rolls her eyes, leaning back into the seat when she's decided she'll have to do nothing for now. Nothing. How dreadfully boring.

Outside, cars are in line, honking, moving slowly as is expected during this rush hour. Hex directs her gaze higher to the endless spread of colors in varying shades of red, and the poofy pinkness akin to cotton candy, and she wonders why she hadn't tried skydiving before. She can almost imagine the air in her face when she falls from somewhere too high- it would be downright awesome.

When she hears someone clear his throat politely, but unnecessarily, Hex thinks, she fixes a seemingly innocent smile at the stranger standing before her, no matter how much she wants to just strangle the prick's little neck so bad.

It's wrong, but she's never really cared for things like that. It's just Mello's fault she can't, the asshole. The guiltless little girl act is clawing up her hide something just awful, but Mello's insisted on it. Something about big-headed albinos and eyes everywhere on a sheep, whatever. She doesn't look much into it. It's not important, and either way, it's not like she pays attention to every itsy bitsy little detail anyway, that's all a waste of time.

"Yes?" she asks lightly, blinking as she cocks her head aside in 'confusion'. This smiley guy –Hex thinks he's a potential child molester- looks a little too friendly. Maybe in his late-thirties or so, and he's been constantly bothering her and asking questions (Not that she answered, or anything). Geez. Like this guy has no life or something, or maybe he's just stupid.

"You sure you're okay here? You look a little uncomfortable," Hex finds this amusing, knowing enough from conning that he's trying to charm her, and failing. Epically. And damn it, any sane person would be uncomfortable too, if some random dude's got his face less than a foot away from their own. "It's not right for you to be alone here, princess."

As politely as she possibly could, she answers, "Yeah, some people have the nerve to just bother me, you know? They don't know when to quit, even when it's obvious I want to be left alone." Take the hint.

What an idiot. "I understand completely that you're feeling scared right now," he counters, and this time Hex's eyes narrow. She can take the annoyances, the bothering -no problem!-, but she does not want to be taken for a coward. No matter how much it didn't mean anything, he implied it, damn it! "I would be too if I was here alone at your age."

"Leave. Me. Alone," she seethes, inwardly counting to ten like that book on anger management tells her to. It's not working; she feels as if every count closer to ten is every second closer to just blowing up. She doesn't need reasons for what she does, she just does it. No questions asked. Why the hell did Mello have to ask why she's so damn bitchy anyway? It's not like she knows.

"I'll keep you company, okay?" he continues, "There's nothing to be scared of, sugar.. Hey, what's your name?"

Her right hand balls up into a tight fist, and she's already raising it up slowly when she sees Mello stalking down the walkway of the shuttle. In pure agitation, she lets her arm drop lifelessly to her side, and there she plasters another cutesy grin. "Go away." She gives him a not-so-gentle push to make up for not punching him, "Bye-bye."

She sighs, letting the back of her head rest against the seats, smelling of pine and nicotine. Lazily, she watches as Mello's display, and thinks of how much he's drawing attention, contradicting his words for being inconspicuous. But seriously, how could two random kids with violent tendencies be inconspicuous, left unsupervised, parentless and apparently nameless?

Mello shoots her potential molester a dark glare, knocking him with his shoulder in a completely non-accidental way when the guy looks back at her. Then, she can easily hear Mello's words of "What the hell is your problem?" and "Don't bother us, asshole!"

Inconspicuous. Yeah, right.

"Hey!" she hears Mello call out to her, so she cranes her neck in acknowledgment, raising a brow in question. This time she notices that he's already shouldering their single duffel bag, and he cocks his head to the doors. "We're heading out." When she doesn't make a move, he deadpans, "Now."

She's weighing the pros and cons of listening to him, and she decides that waiting in the stuffy and funny smelling shuttle wouldn't be worth waiting for Mello's usual tantrum. She makes her way to pass him, to lead him out like he wants to, because she knows he doesn't know Los Angeles like she does. He's probably never even been here, being a pampered Wammy kid and all.

They exit the vehicle after paying their cheap fine, and Hex smirks when she hears Mello muttering incoherently. "Welcome to L.A. Say, Melly-bean," she begins, "What did no one do to you now? You look as if you're about to throw a little hissy fit."

"Be nice," he tells her, "And shut up."

Like hell Hex will listen to him. "I don't want to," she sticks her tongue out at him, as per usual, and then rudely, she unzips the duffel bag while still on his arm, sticking her arm inside to feel for whatever she packed, pulling Mello back to her as he tries to escape her hold. She retrieves a leather wallet and a single bar of chocolate, the latter quickly being pulled from her fingers, and Mello bites into the candy with a flourish.

"Spit that out," Hex orders, eyes narrowed. "It's mine." Hex scowls and stretches her hand to retrieve it, only Mello keeps it from her reach. "Oh sure," Hex says dryly, "Real mature, Mello."

He shakes his head, and Hex sees him staring from where he's bitten with an odd fixation, like he's thinking too hard on a matter. He looks up suddenly, and studies her. "You look unsightly."

"Thanks," she drawls out sarcastically, "That's just about what every girl on this damn planet needs to hear. What the hell are you talking about? I'm sexy."

Mello shrugs, unimpressed, taking another bite out of the candy again. "I don't want you to slow us down. Rent an apartment or something, and get some sleep, will you?"

"You care about me!" Hex scrunches up her nose, and she jokingly winks, blowing him a kiss. "Aw, Melly-bean, I'm touched and all but-"

"Shut up," he grumbles, stalking forward like he always does when he's annoyed with her, or by her. It's all the same to Hex, so whatever. "I don't want to hear your shit."

Hex narrows her eyes at him and stops at her tracks, crossing her arms and pouting. She hardly cares she's being immature here, because damn it, Mello's being a complete asshole to her. And for no reason! "What the hell is your problem, anyway?"

"My problem?" he asks, but his tone is obviously rhetorical. He turns and stalks back to her angrily, towering over her easily, and hardly caring that she's not intimidated in the least. "You're the problem. My problem is that we're trying to catch a goddamn mass murderer and you don't give a fuck! You're too busy messing around for no reason! My problem is that you're a cold-hearted, selfish bitch-"

Hex stretches high, standing on her toes and she pushes him back with her open palms. She plasters another Cheshire-cat sort of grin, and she would've looked happier had her eyes not been blazing like they are. "Enough, okay?" her tone is too light, it almost sounds whimsical. "Stop."

As she takes a step back and glares at him, the bruises surrounding her eyes are more pronounced. "You don't get it, do you?" she questions, shaking her head slowly like she pities him or something. "You're not at Wammy's anymore; you don't wake up in clean pajamas and have breakfast waiting for you. You don't tuck in early in a bed and think 'Everything's okay, and I'm safe', nor do you just get a time-out for being bad."

Mello is quiet, and she continues quietly. "You're not a kid anymore. You haven't been since you left that place, and you're not safe, understand?" Hex smiles, but it is gone as soon as it came. "The world isn't the same as Wammy's. You gave up everything, and you got to get it in your head that nothing is the same."

"I'm cold-hearted, but you're soft. I'm selfish, but you're spoiled. I don't give a fuck, but you're just.. so.. naïve." Hex sighs and turns on her heel away from Mello, "Wake up, Mello, it's about time you smell the coffee." She begins walking, actually walking this time, but she is taking her steps slowly.

"Where are you going?" she hears Mello ask, and he sounds unsure but rushed, like he needs to know.

Hex shrugs, and the grin she wears can fool anyone, but she knows she isn't happy. "We, Melly-bean. We're on our way, and we're going to get there. You coming, right?" She didn't need an answer. Beside her, a half-smile is gracing Mello's lips.

She pulls him into the less-than-modest shop in the discreet corner, and the overhead bell jingles to alert the employee of their entry. Mello lets his eyes wander to his newer surroundings with a mixture of curiosity and piqued interest, because in glass walls and windows, under the poor lighting that gives away the stereotypical black market will be an artillery of weapons, and they glint and glimmer at him tauntingly, polished and clean.

Just calling at him.

"You fellers ain't the usual people 'ere," some random, sleazy looking character chuckles. His voice is wheezy and rough, teeth yellow and eyes tired, maybe from years of smoking, but he couldn't have looked more than forty. "You lost?"

Mello ignores him, choosing to eye the newer models of guns on display with wide eyes.

"You're just so.. naïve." She's called him. "Wake up, Mello."

This time, he thinks he understands. He'll take this as a lesson of some sort- Mello's always been a good student, eager to please and ready to bring to the table, but he isn't sure what Hex wants from him now.. other than a change of attitude. To get rid of the spoiled demeanor he's molded just because he's a Wammy kid.

Mello isn't an idiot. He knows he's not even an amateur here, because he has no prior experience to anything other than to excel in what he does to be L, but (grudgingly, he admits) he's not even close to that goal yet. Fucking Near. Mello knows what he's doing, and where he's going. He needs the mafia, damn it. He needs this. He needs to beat Near.

He glances at Hex to see her muttering into her cell phone some twenty feet away from him.

It's something of instinct, that he needs to, but he's starting to wonder if Hex will actually help him beat Near. So far, she's done nothing but disregard his opinions entirely, keep secrets from him, and she tells him nothing. There are so many things that can go wrong, and he grudgingly admits this. Like how Hex might be already working with Near, or what if she were in contact with Kira? Or… Mello shakes his head, wanting to banish all thoughts of Hex betraying him for a while. It's nothing but paranoia.

.. But he really is curious; who does she meet when she's gone? Who does she talk to almost every night? Who's sending her those damned e-mails? Why won't she tell him anything?

"I've got to hang up now," Hex's voice is hushed and hurried as she whispers into her cell phone. "I think Mello's here."

"Yeah," Mello drawls in a deadpan tone. "But haven't I been here all the while? And who were you talking to?"

"No one you'd find important. We'll talk later," Hex grumbles, rolling her eyes and pocketing her phone. "So, see anything you like?"

The sleazy guy at the cashier snickers, "You betcha I do, babe."

He listens to Hex speak, and he notices that she sounds more menacing than the usual perky. He resists rolling his eyes, knowing that this is most likely to intimidate the man, or to convince the guy that they're here on serious business. Either way, he knows her enough to know she's taking personal amusement in the simple conversation. "You're not getting any, asshole. Now get your ass here; we're buying."

"She a feisty 'un, eh?" the man leers at Mello, waggling his brows suggestively. Mello scoffs, because clearly, he is way above the man. He does not need to lower himself to his level.

Hex raises a brow, obviously unimpressed by the man, and she speaks again, but her voice is firmer. "Don't test us," she pulls out the gun she'd nicked from a policeman the morning earlier, and it clicks, ready to be used. "I told you. We'd like to buy."

"Hah," the man snorts derisively, but he still watches her with undisguised precaution, Mello notices, like Hex will really shoot the man if he doesn't follow throw with what she wants. Mello doesn't want to know if she really will, even if a larger part of him agrees entirely. "You've gotta lotta guts, babe. But t'yer guy's kinda quiet now, ain't he?"

"Leave me alone," Mello mutters. "If you know what's good for you, do as we say."

He takes the fact that Hex looks at him somewhat approvingly. The man slowly stands from his seat, and places both open palms onto the counter, balancing his weigh on them. "Can I get a name 'ere?"

"It's Wedy," Hex answers confidently.

Mello discerns that the man suddenly looks a little more serious, standing straight and he appears before them both quickly, looking slightly shaken. "Sorry, sorry, ma'am! Boss Mack told me you'd be comin' an' all, but I just thought you'd be a 'lil older an-" Mello clears his throat in agitation.

"We're short on time," Mello sneers, crossing his arms together and cocking his hip one side, the perfect stance of defiance he'd seen gangsters do on the television. If he'll take a change of attitude, Mello thinks, then he'll learn on the job.

"Ah, I'm sorry, sir," the man nods quickly, and he proceeds to the glass cabinets holding the weapons. "What's the occasion?"

Mello looks at Hex, confused. Hex smirks and sends him a 'Don't ask' look. "No occasion- I need two of whatever that works. What've you got?"

The man pulls one out from its place, holding it higher so they'd see. "This 'un? It's an M134 762."

"Something smaller," Mello replies. "Maybe a semi-automatic pistol?"

Hex snorts. "Of course you'd want that one." She redirects her attention to the man again. "And pull out a compact automatic. And a flare gun, if you still have 'em."

The employee returns from their back room after no more than two minutes, carrying metal briefcases similar to the one's Mello had seen Aiber with. He approaches the counter with long strides, unbuckling the case easily and he picks up the weapon with an almost manic sort of grin. "We'll take it."

TBC

A/N: So, uh how was it? I think I've butchered Mello's personality. T_T Any comments or opinions? By the way, a special thanks to C. Holywell-Black (haha, that was one of the funner parts to write. :) You noticed the hint of compassion I was giving him! :D) and Overboard343 (I'm thinking Hex is a bad influence on him ahaha. :) Mello and Hex actually are getting along, eh? And thanks for approving of Aiber's appearance and stuff.)

The preview I've got for you's a little short, 'cause I'm still kinda in the process of making the next chapter..

Preview:

"Hex, you fucking moron." Mello hisses, and his eyes are narrowed to slits, fists clenching and unclenching as he bites his tongue to keep from yelling out. "Shit.. Are you okay?" That is the best he can start with, and he isn't sure what to do here- because sure he's read about these things happening in books, but reality is just... so.. real, and he's starting to get a little (he won't admit this aloud) panicky.

Hex either hasn't noticed his acts, or she's chosen to ignore it completely. "It's just pain, asshole. No big beal," she replies in a chipper tone, but a short silence follows her words. Then, she growls out, "Of course I'm not okay, you dumbass! I'm bleeding and it's all your fault!"