Forcibly United
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Rock's Little Sister
Chapter 3
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Rock held the box as he approached Revy's apartment, suddenly nervous about the gift. The black and white pistols were packed neatly inside with the sort under the shoulder holster she favored. What if she didn't like them? What if she'd already replaced the Cutlasses she normally used by the time he got back?
Finally he straightened up. This was, at least, a more thoughtful gift than that hideous shift he'd temporarily pawned off to Benny. He'd been dismayed the day Benny had given him back the 'loan', and with Revy watching he'd been hard pressed to do anything but accept it with a thankful smile. The grin she'd flashed him when he had was almost worth the ugly thing hanging in his closet.
He knocked.
Inside the apartment, he heard a grumbling as Revy got off of her couch and stomped towards the door. She jerked the door open with a glare which immediately faded.
"Rock? What the fuck are you doing here?" Revy asked, raising one eyebrow at the Japanese man. He flashed her a slight grin.
"I've got a little present for you. Something that I picked up off of a mutual acquaintance which he thought might interest you," Rock said, stepping inside. He set the box down on the table, reflexively catching the Heirekan the Chinese-American girl tossed him and popping the tab on the beer. He took a sip before glancing at her nervously. "Have you gotten around to replacing your Cutlasses yet?"
"No, I haven't. I haven't had a chance to contact my gunsmith yet..." Revy admitted, her eyes suddenly lighting up with realization. "You got me guns!?"
"I got you guns. A pair of Berettas to replace the ones you lost. They felt pretty balanced to me, and the recoil was almost nonexistent. I was surprised," Rock admitted, moving aside as Revy took a seat next to him, her unbroken arm eagerly tearing away the wrapping and opening the box.
"Rock, you moron! These aren't Berettas!" Revy growled, turning to glare at the Japanese man, who gulped. "Take a look at it for yourself, the trigger's got a guard to keep things from slipping behind. Combined with the slightly longer barrel length and..."
Rock tuned out the woman with well-practiced ease as she went on to detail every single thing wrong with his assessment of the pistols.
"...and I mean, it has .45 right on the engraving to this Tony Redgrave guy right here!" Revy finished, causing Rock to begin to pay attention once more.
"Sorry, Revy. It's my mistake. I was an idiot to pick up a pair of weapons when I don't know anything about them," Rock admitted.
"You're damned right. I mean, look at the material of these things! They probably have horrible balance!" Revy continued, snatching up the black pistol for emphasis. Rock noticed the way she froze right away.
"What is it?" Rock asked, smirking. Perhaps he'd been wrong about the weapon's caliber, but perhaps he'd not been wrong about the quality.
"This gun isn't loaded, is it? No gun could possibly be this light fully loaded," Revy said, more to herself than to her partner. She clicked off the safety and fired at her wall, ignoring the angry yells from her next door neighbour with practiced ease. "Holy shit!"
She clicked gun's clip release, catching the thing and bringing it to her eyes. They widened further and her jaw dropped in a subtle gasp.
"Revy, what's wrong!?" Rock demanded, grabbing her arm.
"Rock, I fired this fucking pistol, didn't I?" Revy demanded in an eerily calm voice. Rock nodded, causing the dark-haired woman to tilt the clip so he could see. Inexplicably, the device was still fully loaded. The slit of metal which ran to the base of the thing revealed it was full of bullets.
"That's impossible," the Lagoon Company deliveryman stated, watching as Revy silently loaded the clip back into the pistol. She fired once. Twice. Three times. She continued to fire bullets for nearly thirty seconds, firing once a second. Each time beyond the eighth shot, their eyes widened as bullets continued to issue from the barrel.
"Rock... This gun..." Revy began, her eyes finding his. He flinched at the feral look of joy in her eyes, then winced as the butt of the gun hit the back of his head as she grabbed him in a tight, temporary hug. "You got me a fucking magic gun! It fires more smoothly than my Cutlasses ever did AND it never needs to be reloaded!?"
She snatched up the white gun, lacing the wall with twenty shots which spat with lethal accuracy as fast as she could pull the trigger.
"Two! Both of these fuckers are magical!?" Revy crowed. Rock's eyes widened. Were those... Tears of joy in the woman's eyes? She snatched him in another hug. "Drinks are on me! We're going to the fucking Yellow Flag to celebrate this shit, Rock! Call Benny and Dutch so we can show 'em these bastards!"
Rock's stomach dropped out of his torso.
This could only end badly.
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Greta smiled as she walked through the small market.
It was getting to be near dinner time, and she was planning a special meal for her big brother. Earlier that day while they'd been shopping for clothes, he'd lamented that he hadn't had any decent tacos for over a year. She planned to correct that mistake tonight.
Greta had fresh lettuce, tomatoes, and onions in her basket. What her sensitive nose told her was indeed fresh ground beef was wrapped in butcher's paper next to it, and she was browsing the flat bread aisle for something that was thin enough to substitute for the tortillas used in the dish. The found a flat bread which was thin enough and added it to her basket with a smile.
Now all she had to do was find the cheese and spices. She remembered that Rock had some sweet paprika in his cupboard, but that wouldn't do. She firmly put a few hot peppers in her basket, alongside some hot paprika. Despite the high price, she added some jalapeño peppers to the mix. She was sure the older boy would appreciate the kick.
That left cheese. Unfortunately, the shop didn't carry any Monterey Jack. On the bright side, the shop did carry a decent white cheddar which could more or less substitute.
She made her purchase and had made it half way home when she noticed the men following her. Hoping against hope that she could avoid a confrontation, she sped up her walk and took a shortcut down an alley.
Two thugs leaning against the wall moved to block her way. Both were well-dressed, wearing fine-cut suits with silk shirts underneath. One was clearly Asian of some sort, his hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. The other was a dark-haired Caucasian, his hazel eyes not reflecting the smile on his face.
"Excuse me, do you think I could pass?" Greta pleaded, clutching her bag of groceries close. The men chuckled at her expression. The Caucasian stepped ahead of his compatriot, slapping the groceries from her hands. Greta spun and ran. "Help!"
Her escape was cut brutally short as she ran into a pair of men closing the entrance to the alleyway. Her pleading eyes went to the pedestrians in the street, all of whom made a visible effort to keep from meeting her eyes.
"Looks like you're in the wrong place at the wrong time, little girl," the Asian commented from behind her in smooth English. She turned to watch the amusement on his face with dismay. "See, you happen to be close to that bastard Rock in the Lagoon Company. You're going to be a lesson that they need to stop taking our business, or else bad things might happen.
"See, we can't touch them. Not directly. They're all too dangerous, except maybe for your friend Rock. And nobody's crazy enough to lay a finger on him without Balalaika's say-so," the man continued, pulling a butterfly knife from his pocket which he flicked open with ease. "You? You don't have that protection. Sorry little girl, you get to suffer for Lagoon's ambition."
Though his tone was full of sorrow, it was rendered a terrible lie by the glee in his eyes as he advanced.
"S-Stay back!" Greta yelled, shrinking against the brick wall. The men closed in on her.
None of them noticed the silver flash in her eyes as her gaze narrowed and she grinned, her feral instincts taking over.
The Asian tried to stab her quick, in the heart. The girl twisted her hands and a sharp plain blossomed in his chest, and he looked down to see his own blood staining the knife buried directly between his third and fourth ribs. He didn't even have the voice to curse his own death.
"Oh, you shouldn't have attacked me, mister," Gretel declared, savoring the horrified look on the dying man's face. His companions didn't even have time to do more than gape before the knife was pulled with a sickly sucking noise from the Asian's chest to begin to reap their lives. "You can't run from me! I'll catch you all!"
Blood soon stained the alley, though none of it was hers.
Moments later, Greta calmly collected her groceries, muttering quietly about the bruising the tomatoes had taken, and made her way home.
She couldn't afford to waste time when she had to make her big brother the meal he so wanted, after all.
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Rock tried to focus as he fumbled with the keys to his door.
Revy's celebration with the rest of Lagoon Company over her new guns had been short, but he'd still managed to drink more than he'd intended. Yet, being a good big brother, he'd caught a cab back to his apartment long before Greta had told him he'd need to be back. He smiled as he caught the scent of fresh ground beef being cooked in just the right combination of spices as he opened the door.
He hadn't actually expected her to make tacos for him, though he certainly wasn't about to complain.
He was sitting at the table when something penetrating the drunken fog surrounding him, telling him something was amiss. His eyes travelled to the discarded bag of groceries on the counter, which, despite being more or less empty, still held an odd, slightly-rectangular shape.
Rock stood and moved over to it, returning the hug Greta gave him as he moved past her. Keeping an eye on the younger Romanian girl to make sure she was focused on the cooking beef, Rock reached a hand into the bag and pulled out the object.
The blood caking the butterfly knife hadn't yet had time to dry.
As Greta turned to him, he pocketed the knife and returned her grin.
He would protect her, no matter what it took.
Even if it meant protecting her from herself.
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Author's Notes:
60,000 words! One more filter, and I'm showing up no matter how high people set the word count in a search! Though I'm surprised I've carried ANY story this far. I thought for sure I'd never take any story this far, especially with things more or less just beginning.
This arc is going to last another four chapters or so. I'm merging what used to be two arcs into one, slightly longer arc. I'm sure it'll work out far better.
Time to fess up. I wasn't originally going to admit to it, but I messed up Dante's pistols when I described them. Originally I cited them as Beretta 9mms, like Revy's 92Fs. Instead, they're actually Colt 1911 .45's. To be fair, both pistols do look a LOT alike to people who aren't gun-crazy. Thus, my mistake becomes Rock's mistake.
Anyway, as you might have noted in my profile, I've got some emergency repairs to do starting tomorrow morning. No updates for a few days, methinks. I know, I know... Right when things are starting to get interesting.