Thanks Vergina-spva and MyLadyDay for beta'ing

Chapter 6

Kid was currently watching Bonney put away one dish after the next with a mixture of curiosity and slight disgust. How she managed to eat that much eluded him, especially in combination with her figure, but something about her personality appealed to him. He didn't quite understand why, because she often yelled at him or called him out for being a douche – she wasn't necessarily wrong, but still – yet she had managed to become his friend quite fast.

Her friend Perona was a whole other story. While Kid couldn't say he disliked her, her doll eyes and the gagged teddy bear she carried around creeped him out a bit. Still, at least she had a human appetite, so Kid had someone to talk to while Bonney stuffed her face.

They were at the cafeteria at the moment, having lunch. Killer would join them soon, but Bonney wasn't one to politely wait when it came to eating. She had already picked up a second round of food when Kid spotted Killer and waved him over. Killer hadn't met Bonney and Perona yet, but Kid didn't think it would be a problem, as Killer even fitted in with normal people.

Killer approached their table, a tray in his hands. Kid made room at the table and introduced the girls to him. Polite as he was, Killer shook their hands and sat down.

"So what do you study?" Killer asked them, in an attempt to start a conversation.

Bonney had to chew a few times more before she could swallow. "Educational theory."

"I'm studying production design," Perona replied.

As they chatted on about their studies, Kid yawned and retreated to the bathroom. He had heard all that stuff before, but he was glad Killer and Bonney seemed to be getting along.

When he returned, they were still talking about their study – exams this time. Kid had exams the week after as well, so he could relate with their panic. When Killer rose to get some more coffee, Kid followed after him.

"So, you like 'em?" he inquired.

"Sure," Killer replied. "Why do you care, though?"

Kid shrugged. "I was just thinking… Bonney is one of the few gals I get along with. So I figured, since my parents wanted me to find a suitable wife–"

"And you think she will make one?" Killer's voice sounded disbelieving.

"Suitable means suitable for me, right?" Kid shrugged. "What, you think she can do better than me?"

"'Better' isn't the right word," Killer said hesitantly.

"Then what?" Kid snapped at him. "I know her eating manners are a bit off putting, but I'm sure she can restrain herself when we have dinner with my folks. I don't get the problem, if I find a wife, my parents will start paying for my education again, and I can stop teaching that dance class."

Killer stared at him. "Are you even listening to yourself?"

"What? What else could be the problem?"

Killer sighed as if he had given up. "Sure, her eating manners. That's the problem." With that, he went back to the table.

Kid stared after him, blinking confusedly. He felt like he had just been patronised, but he didn't understand why. Was he missing something?

Killer refused to explain what he had meant in the cafeteria, stating merely that Kid should figure it out by himself. So he was no help.

Kid wondered why Killer had such a problem with the idea. It wasn't like he was in love with Bonney, or even attracted to her for that matter, but that wasn't the point of marriage, right? Bonney was pretty enough to show off, but she was no bimbo. Kid got along with her and that was more than he could say about his parents.

He still hadn't asked her out, though. They hang out often, and she still came to the dance lessons to be his partner, but to be honest, Kid had no idea how to ask someone out. He really wasn't a romantic, and the only person who could help him with this stuff was Killer, who refused. In all, it was extremely frustrating.

It also didn't help that Kid didn't get much time alone with Bonney. Usually, either Perona or Killer hung out with them, or one of Bonney's other friends.

On Friday night, Kid decided he should just get it over with. Bonney was a rational person, she would understand his point of view.

With a new bottle of vodka, he made his way over to her room and knocked on the door. At first she didn't answer, which was odd, because Kid distinctively remembered her saying she wasn't going out tonight. He decided to knock again, louder this time.

Finally, he heard some rummaging about inside the room. The door opened slightly, and Bonney's face appeared. "Kid," she said somewhat surprised. "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged. "Hanging out. I've got booze." He showed the bottle to emphasise his words.

"That's great, but I don't have much time right now." She shifted a little, and Kid noticed she was wearing a bathrobe.

Kid was curious. He could only think of two reasons why she was wearing a robe; either she was cold – and Bonney wasn't the type to be cold, as she always seemed to be wearing short shorts – or, judging from her still dry hair, she was about to take a shower.

"Who's there?" Perona's voice came from inside the room.

"It's just Kid, I'll be right there," Bonney said over her shoulder. Then she turned back to Kid. "Tomorrow I'm probably free. Bye!" She pushed the door shut in his face before he could respond.

Slightly baffled, Kid turned around and started walking back to his room. Girls were weird. He knew they went to the bathroom together, but apparently that also went for taking showers? Why else would Bonney say she'd be right there?

In their room, Killer was reading a book on his bed, and looked up when Kid entered. "No luck?" he asked amusedly, although what for eluded Kid.

"She was busy. Oi, Kil, you know women, right?"

Killer sat up a bit. "What about them?"

"Do they shower together? I mean, not in the changing rooms, at home," Kid explained.

Killer stared at him for a while without saying anything, and Kid wondered how often he blinked. Finally, he said: "Some do."

Kid shrugged, accepting the fact. Women were mysteries, his father had always said, and it proved to be true.

Killer sighed and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. "Sometimes I think you're too naïve for your own good."

"Who's naïve?" Kid spat back.

"Bonney's not gonna marry you," Killer said.

"How the fuck do you know?"

Killer let his head fall back. "My God, you're dense. I could explain it, but I doubt you'd take it well. Just take it from me, you're better off as friends with her. Don't try asking her out."

Kid scowled at him. Killer might be his best friend, but he did not like to be patronised. "Just tell me!"

"Let's go out drinking," Killer suggested instead. "I'll tell you at the bar."

Kid looked at him suspiciously, wondering if Killer would hope he would forget, but then put on his coat. He was always one for drinking. Besides, he was annoyed with Killer, but didn't want to punch his friend, so if it came to a bar fight, at least he could get rid of his aggression.

"Oi, Kid!"

Someone tapped on his cheek, and Kid blearily opened his eyes. His whole body hurt, but in particular his left shoulder. He was sitting on the pavement, his back against some building. Killer was sitting in a crouching position in front of him, a bleeding gash across his face.

"What the hell happened to you?" Kid moved slightly and winced when it felt like several needles poked in his shoulder blade. He felt wobbly, and the world seemed to spin around him.

"Bar fight," Killer replied. "You got quite a hit on the head. Can you walk?"

"Yeah." He tried to stand up, only to stumble, and he would have faceplanted into the pavement if Killer hadn't caught him. Kid was still drunk, he realised, very much so.

He barely registered where they were headed. Killer pushed him into the backseat of a car and talked to someone. Kid leaned back and winced again when he felt pain shot through his shoulder. He grabbed at his shoulder blade, gritting his teeth in pain. When he pulled his hand back, he saw it was red with blood, along with a few small green pieces of glass. "The hell?" he muttered.

"You were hit with a bottle," Killer, who was sitting next to him, explained.

"Oh. What did I do to the guy?"

Killer smirked. "Worse."

Kid smirked back. "Where we goin'?" His tongue felt thick, and he had trouble speaking.

"To the hospital." Killer probably rolled his eyes, it was impossible to see with his bangs. "You don't think I'm gonna pick all those pieces of glass out of your back, do you?"

Kid hummed and closed his eyes. Killer probably knew what was best, he always did. Right now, Kid couldn't think straight, and he was tired.

Suddenly, the car – probably a taxi – came to a stop, and Killer stepped out of it, before opening the car door at Kid's side. He hoisted Kid out of the car and probably paid the driver before leading Kid inside the building.

Kid barely registered what happened, he only realised he was in an examination room when Killer left him. A nurse told him to remove his shirt, which proved to be a struggle. Damn those tiny buttons! And where the hell was his coat?! If that was ruined, he would kill the son of a bitch responsible.

The door of the room opened again. "Weren't you told to remove your shirt?" an amused voice sounded.

Kid realised he had stopped halfway through taking it off. "I'm fucking trying," he snapped.

A chuckle sounded behind him, before someone helped him remove the shirt, smooth, warm fingers grazing his back. Kid shook his head to stay awake, while the fingers guided him gently to the examination table. Kid made himself comfortable.

"W're's Kil?" he muttered as he was lying down. Talking took so much effort.

"Your friend is being checked up as well, though it seemed to me his wounds were less severe than yours," the voice continued. It sounded soothing, and Kid was sure he could fall asleep if there hadn't been that nagging voice that he knew that voice from somewhere.

"Well then, Mr Eustass…"

Brusquely, he sat up and turned around. "The fuck you know my name?"

Behind him, a slender, dark skinned man was standing. He was wearing scrubs, a stethoscope hanging around his neck. He had short black hair, a goatee, and piercings in both ears. He looked so familiar, but from where?

The guy, his doctor no doubt, waved with the clipboard in his hand, which probably contained Kid's personal information. So that was how he knew Kid's name!

"I must say, I like your surname more than your first name, so I'll be calling you that from now on," the doctor continued amusedly.

Kid squinted a little when the world became wobbly again. "I know you."

"Very good, Mr Eustass."

"Are you someone I wanna punch in the face?"

"You should know that better than I do." The doctor took a step towards him. "Now lie down please, Mr Eustass."

Kid knew pretty sure he wanted to punch the doctor, but the reason why didn't want to come to mind. Besides, his voice was soothing, and his touch sent weird but pleasant shivers up his spine. The doctor had taken out an odd pair of glasses, equipped with an extra magnifying glass, and pushed Kid back down on the table with a simple touch.

"Let's get that glass out of you first, shall we?"

Kid placed his head on his arms folded before him and sighed. Every once in a while, his body twitched when the doctor pulled out a piece of glass, but it wasn't like he was purposefully hurting Kid. So he still had no idea why he would want to punch the doctor.

Finally, the doctor's hands moved from his shoulder. "That should be all of them. You're lucky you won't need stiches. Lay still, this will hurt."

The doctor pushed something wet onto Kid's shoulder, and pain shot through his body. "What the hell?!"

"A disinfectant. Just relax."

Kid closed his eyes and tried to ignore the pain. Breathing in deeply through his nose, he let it out through his mouth, something which he repeated several times. The pain seemed to fade away, and the drowsiness Kid had felt returned.

Someone caressed his hair. "My, you are much more agreeable when you're hammered, it seems," the doctor said, still sounding amused.

A voice in his head reminded Kid he didn't like to be touched, but the hand brushing through his hair felt kind of nice.

"You're like a puppy." The doctor chuckled. "A drugged puppy, that is." He pulled his hand back, and Kid growled, grabbing his wrist and placing the hand back. He earned another chuckle.

Maybe he was too rash with punching people, Kid decided. Having someone caress his hair felt nice, and his eyes fluttered shut.

The door of the room opened, and the doctor moved away from Kid, much to his annoyance. He was just starting to drift off. Still, he didn't bother looking up to who had entered. His doctor exchanged some words with them in a low voice. Kid didn't really care, he just wanted the doc's hand back.

He got his wish, though not exactly how he had it in mind. Two pairs of hands started prodding at his back, and he caught words like "Nice work", and "intern". Was his doc not a doctor yet?

He tried to ignore the hands poking him, closing his eyes again. The voices slowly started to blend together to a buzzing sound. Kid barely registered that he was lifted up by the shoulder and that soft gauze was wrapped around the wound.

Finally, the poking and prodding stopped, and one pair of footsteps left the room. The buzzing stopped as well. Kid hummed in approval and made himself more comfortable.

"Oh no, you're not sleeping here, Mr Eustass," the doc said, poking him sharply in his side.

Kid growled again, only to receive another poke. Groaning, he turned, almost falling off the examination table, had the doctor not had such quick reflexes. Kid felt arms wrap around him and he was hoisted to his feet. Really, why did he want to punch this guy so bad? He even smelled nice.

Kid let his head rest on the doc's shoulder, when he noted a name tag. "Thanks," he squinted a little to make the letters stop dancing before his eyes, "Trafalgar."

"No problem." The doctor, or Trafalgar, pushed him back. "You should really do something about your breath, though." He helped Kid put on his shirt as he continued: "And change the bandages tomorrow when you wake up." He paused for a second. "Who am I kidding? You won't remember this anyway."

"Are you callin' me stupid?" Kid growled, wobbling as he tried to keep his balance.

"I'm calling you drunk. Let's find that friend of yours, shall we?"

Kid followed Trafalgar to the door. It felt like the ground was moving as if he were on a boat, and Kid was proud he made it to the door without falling.

Outside the room, Killer was waiting, a plaster underneath his eye. He cocked his head a little to the side when he saw Kid.

"Have him change the bandages tomorrow when he wakes up," Trafalgar told Killer. Like Kid needed a babysitter!

Trafalgar left without saying more, while Kid looked after him. When he noticed Killer looking at him, he turned around. "What?"

"Nothing. I'm just surprised you didn't end up killing him with a candlestick."

"Why would I do that? The doc fixed me right up." Kid patted himself on the shoulder and winced in pain.

Killer just sighed. "Let's just get you home, alright?"

AN For the record, I don't think Kid's stupid. He's just... slow when it comes to lesbians XD