*Possible Spoilers for Kill Bill 2*

[Three Weeks Later...]

It took longer than any of them had anticipated for Javier to come to the conclusion that he just had to bite this one bullet to get his niece to move back in with him, because even with the daily dose of Angie, Emily was more than comfortable staying with Chris. He knew that he had to, for her parent's piece of mind, but to him surrender sent the message that it was ok for her to do whatever she pleased, that she could always just fall back on her boyfriend, and he wanted better for her. He loved Chris, just like he loved Emily, but that boy was only going to get that girl into trouble! The apology was eminent, they all knew that, but for now, they were all just waiting...

Sitting alone in the living room (John off at work and Angie God knows where), cuddled together underneath a large Spider-man throw, Chris and Emily were watching Kill Bill vol. 2, or rather it would be more accurate to say that Chris was quoting the scenes with near-perfect accuracy, while Emily was only half paying attention to her boyfriend, really focusing on the film, hanging on to every word exchanged between Bill and the Bride. They had both seen the movie dozens of times before, but somehow it had never hit her before just how intense that final meeting was between lovers.

"You would have worn the costume of Arlene Plimpton, but you were born Beatrix Kiddo. And every morning when you woke up, you'd still be Beatrix Kiddo."

Bill was right - you could wear a mask and hide your identity, but there was no running from who you were, what you've done, the faces of those that you had hurt. Emily wanted to run, to hide from the world, but how could she possibly do that when there was no running from herself? From the knowledge of what she had done...

"Did you really think that your life in El Paso was gonna work?" Bill asked the assassin formerly identified as 'The Bride' with wide-spread hands.

It was obvious that she wanted so hard to lie, to say that it would have, but she couldn't, because of the drugs he had injected her with. "No!" She pointed at him, "But I would have had B.B.!"

How terrible must it have been, to be torn like that? To do something you ultimately knew would blow up in face, knowing that you stall had to try anyways? Emily couldn't imagine that kind of pain...

Walking across the room, Bill sat across from Beatrix, asking the most important question he would ever ask in his life,"Now comes the $64,000 question. "Why did you run away from me with my baby?"

"Do you remember the last assignment you sent me on?"

"Of course." He leaned back, "Lisa Wong."

"The morning I left, I was sick. On the plane, I threw up. So I started thinking: Maybe I was pregnant."

Chris interrupted at that point, inquiring not-so-subtly as to the workings of the female body, "Yeah, but don't bitches just, like, know when they've been knocked up? Not right away, but really fucking soon? Aren't there supposed to be signs?"

Distantly, as if a thousand miles away, Emily responded, "It's not always so easy to tell. You could get weaker, or more tender, or start getting sick, or none of that. Sometimes, its more internal."

"Oh yeah, don't your kind usually go through the rag?" She assumed he meant females. Or at least she hoped.

"I had my last period just before coming here."

He looked over at her, "I didn't mean you, dumbshit."

No, of course he didn't mean her...

"Before that strip turned blue, I was a woman, I was your woman. I was a killer who killed for you. Before that strip turned blue, I would've jumped a motorcycle onto a speeding train. For you. But once that strip turned blue... I could no longer do any of those things. Not anymore. Because I was gonna be a mother. Can you understand that?"

"Yes." Bill, and the Bride, were now outside. Seated, he took a drink, "But why didn't you tell me then, instead of now?"

"Once you knew, you'd claim her. And I didn't want that."

He poured himself more, "Not your decision to make."

"Yes. But it's the right decision, and I made it for my daughter. She deserved to be born with a clean slate. But with you... she would've been born into a world she shouldn't. I had to choose. I chose her." Beatrix walked over to the table. "You know, five years ago, if I had to make a list of impossible things that could never happen, you performing a coupe de grace on me by bustin' a cap in my crown..." She sat down at the table. "Would've been right at the top of the list. I'd have been wrong, wouldn't I?"

"I-I'm sorry. Was that a question? Of impossible things that could never happen - yes, in this instance, you would've been wrong."

"Well?"

"When you never came back, I naturally assumed Lisa Wong, or somebody else, had killed you. Oh! And for the record... letting somebody think somebody they love is dead when they're not is quite cruel. I mourned you for three months. And in the third month of mourning you... I tracked you down. I wasn't tryin' to track you down. I was tryin' to track down the fucking assholes I thought killed you. So I find you... and what do I find? Not only are you not dead... you're getting married to some fucking jerk. And you're pregnant. I overreacted."

She was waiting for more, but it didn't come. "You overreacted? Is that your explanation?"

"I didn't say I was gonna explain myself. I said I was gonna tell you the truth. But if that's too cryptic, then let's get literal. I'm a killer. I'm a murdering bastard. You know that. And there are consequences... to breaking the heart of a murdering bastard. You experienced some of them. Was my reaction really that surprising?"

"Yes. It was. Could you do what you did? Of course you could. But I never thought that you would, or could, do that to me."

"I'm really sorry, Kiddo... but you thought wrong."

Learning from first-hand experience that she was wrong about that must have been hard enough, but to actually hear him say the words himself, confirming every worst fear that had probably kept her awake at night, haunting her in some darker corner of her mind, it must have been torture. Emily couldn't imagine a life without Chris - she wouldn't - because he was everything to her, and after the way that he had opened his home to her, essentially allowing her access to one of the deepest parts of him, she just failed to envision anything after him.

That was why it hurt her so much to be keeping this secret from him...

Buzz. Buzzz. Her cellphone vibrated in her back pocket. Emily was expecting a text from her friend Knight at any moment, so she answered her phone by the third ring, earning half a glance from Chris, who was more preoccupied watching what was left of the movie anyways. Tapping the touchscreen of her fancy smart IPhone, she read the message, Got it. Lobby. Ten. As if she could wait ten minutes...

Turning her phone off as she slid it back into her pocket, Emily looked at Chris, wondering if this would be the last time they would be speaking like this, as a happy couple in love. "Knight needs me, so I'm going to step out for a couple of moments."

Were Knight not gay, very soundly gay, Chris might have had an issue with his girlfriend just leaving in the middle of a movie like this, but because he knew that her good friend couldn't fuck a chick to save his own life, he was unconcerned with her departure, besides a slight feeling of neglect. But whatever, it wasn't like she had anything to hide from him, so it wasn't a thought in mind as he gestured for her to leave. Pausing as she walked around the backside of the glowing ivory couch on her way out, she leaned over, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing the side of his head.

"I'll be back as soon as I can, alright baby?" She kissed his cheek, dropping her voice to a whisper, "And when I get back," her lips went lower, brushing against his neck, hands caressing his chest, "I think I can find a way to make it up to you..."

Reaching up to reciprocate the gesture, his hand brushed her shoulder, "You better."

With all the reluctance in the world, probably more, Emily pulled away from her boyfriend, praying that she would be able to work this out with him in the way that she had promised...

[Twenty-five Minutes Later...]

Pacing back and forth in the quaintly tiled bathroom, no longer anywhere near the Genovese family residence but someplace much further than that, Emily Vela was running her fingers through her hair, practically tearing away large chunks at a time. Sure, she had taken a couple tests that had stressed her out in the past, for drugs and for her driver's permit, but none were nearly so bad as this...

Sitting up on the beaten orange counter as he watched her, legs dangling from the side and a complete tripping hazard for the distracted, Knight kept his eyes on the phone's timer at all times, glad that he would never have to go through this kind of stress. Not by choice, at least. "I still can't even begin to possibly fathom how you were retarded enough to think that you - the deranged nymphomaniac that you are - could not wind up in this situation."

Emily looked at her friend sideways, slowing to a temporary stop as his words hit her, genuine confusion setting in the dust. "Why am I a deranged nymphomaniac?"

He pretended to think about that, putting his finger to his chin in thought, "Hmm, let's see, now why would I call you that? Oh!" He snapped his digits as he figured it out, not easing up on her for a moment. "Maybe because you used a very zexually graphic photo of your man plugging you as your wallpaper? His personal ring-tone for you is the sound of you climaxing, and your Facebook page alone has been blocked on at least three separate occasions."

"Hey, the Facebook thing had nothing to do with Chris! That little blonde country cunt earned each and every threat! And I wasn't even mean enough to issue one for every song about each fucking doink to come along! And what, violence is a personal trait that you can't share with the world? Says who?!"

"The world." Knight was personally on her side with the Taylor Swift thing, but she really shouldn't have been so vocal on her views. "I love you like my own sister, but fuck Emily, who the fuck actually posts entire galleries of themselves cutting up-"

"It could have been worse what I showed!" Rattled, she interjected her own side, "Seriously, the problem with the world today is that you can show gratuitous amounts of one thing, but not the other, and then that one thing always varies! So one way or another, you're catching shit for the same exact thing someone else is putting out there while they get off Scot-free! Where the fuck is the justice there?" She grunted, "I swear, post one piece of art that one little shithead objects to, or doesn't really understand, and the whole world is suddenly up your ass."

Knight shook his head glumly, motions casting strange shadows in the flickering overhead lights, but maybe that was just the weed playing tricks on her already frantic mind. "You are one depressing bitch, you know that? Fuck, its no wonder you two get on so well."

She took that as a compliment, "I'm the only one that really gets Chris, and he gets me."

Knight rolled his baby-blues, "The makings of a truly happy family."

"Dammit, don't say shit like that! It's just me and Chris - there's no room for anyone else, not in my vision." Pouting, she crossed her arms over her chest and threw herself against the wall. "My soul was split into two pieces, not three."

Yes, yes, she was a lucky bitch for finding her soul mate so early in life. "Oh! So you had a vision?" He set the phone aside for the first time, clapping in mock joy, "Well that changes everything!" Frowning at the holes in her judgment, Knight picked up a long, rectangular box and held it in her face, "And I trust that this was a part of said plan?"

She smacked the box out of his hand, the side with the instructions landing face-up, "Fuck off!"

Shrugging indifferently, Knight stood up at his full height and made to leave the cramped women's restroom, but she reached out for him, "Don't go..." Her voice fell, that frightened little creature inside the tough exterior peeking out, "I'm sorry, I'm just scared. You don't know what its like, thinking that you're pregnant..."

Sighing at her helplessness, Knight hugged her, "No, I don't. But I do know what's its like to have a friend that will always be there to support you, even in your worst hour."

She smiled weakly. Yeah, too bad she couldn't even tell Chris about this, not unless she absolutely had to...

Ding, dinnggg, ding! The timer went off. Looking at each other in horror (well, the possible mother-to-be's face was aglow with the emotion, but his was merely caution personified), Emily took a deep breath and reached for the stick that was about to determine the rest of her life...

At this point in time, it might seem pointless to warn for spoilers for that movie, but like I've learned from personal experience, no matter how old something is, it doesn't mean that everyone's seen it yet. Not a lot happens, actually, and yet so much is suddenly on the line... Oh, and thinking in terms of issues (like Kick-Ass is before Hit-Girl and Kick-Ass 2), this is the end of Chris and Emily, but not the end of the story. Just thought I should tell you all that.

Remember, reviews are always welcome, no matter how nit-picky or simple! So review!

Kick-Ass is the property of Mark Millar and John Romita Jr. Emily Vela is mine. Knight too.