The Bad Deal

If there ever was a time for a look for sore eyes, this was it. A deal went bad. Horribly bad. And he was blamed for it. Papi nearly got killed. The story was plain on the Argentinian's face.

(s)"What happened." Keeping true to her Assassinette image of being everywhere, anywhere, and nowhere; the newspaper lowers, and Noni's head tilts, eying her cousin closely. It takes a lot of self control to keep from jumping out of that chair.

He entered the tea shoppe with anxiety. Forcibly, he closed the door behind him. Looking behind him with hind sight whiplash, he looked back into the shoppe to see a vital individual of the family. One that was absent at a crucial time of need. The disappointment was on his face. "It was supposed to be clean. Clean and smooth. But things went bloody. Almost too bloody..."

(s)"I noticed." Hands flexed to him, showing black leather gloves. She was there, but she wasn't close enough to adequately prevent issues like she would have hoped. Although, guardian angel in her nature, Noni probably was the contributing factor in keeping things from going from worse to drastic

Andre looked to the glove exclusive. Looked at it as if it were an alibi in writing. He read volumes from the sight of it. Yet, it didn't erase that anger from his face. An anger that made the Claymore incident seem like a passing fancy. Those jade eyes made could crush diamonds into powder.

"How many bullets did you count? We lost a lot of good horses tonight." Spoken like a true smuggler regarding immigrant soldiers.

His referring to Vlad as 'father' made her chuckle. It was dry, a heckle even. Noni knew very well that she didn't pull her weight as much as was usually expected, but he didn't seem to know the other side of it.

(s)"Did you ever stop to think of *why* I wasn't there, Andre? Did you even consider the fact that the surprise bandwagon they sent after you wasn't the only one? My job is to take care of threats before they even become threat status, and I do that damn well. But my group and I, we are human. We make mistakes, however ridiculous that might seem, but we correct them. Your group was the fourth. Count them. *Fourth* troupe they planned on sicking on you. And let me tell you, they were the smallest."

By the end of her monologue, her voice had become a serpent's hiss, eyes narrowed, teeth grit. She knew she deserved reprimand. But she wanted it to coincide with the crime she actually committed.

It was his turn to break a smile. He let out a scoff, shaking his head simultaneously. Emotionally, he was loosening his tie.

It was to match his already loosened tie. He wore a pin striped suit. Before the deal, he was in a good mood. There was some sort of secret plan to send Vlad to sleep with a fatherly smile on his face.

Now, the look was ruined. Or enhanced, depending on how you looked at it. Suspenders were visible. His jacket was missing.

"Well, I didn't know they were that grumpy. Would've made the seventh dwarf real proud..." That smile was all but a cheery one. It was a patronizing one.

Another set of heckles were dropped from her mouth. (s)"Do I throw your failures back into your face, Andre? You know I could. But I don't." She'd spoken her piece, and it was his liberty if he wanted to take it or leave it. It seemed that the latter was inevitable.

(s)"What do you want to do, primo.. Do you want to hit me?" Arms extend, gloved fingers waggle. (s)"I'll even let you get in a free one. Because it seems like you're *dying* to prove to me how I should have handled the situation. Come on.." Slowly upnodding, watching him.

Nostrils flared and teeth grit all over again, and Noni made sure her gaze was nowhere near 'Cisco. Her mouth stayed shut tight.

For a short moment, Francisco flickered from existence. The temperature increased by 20 degrees while he had been abducted by the Nexus. That trip would all but cool him off when he returned.

She folded her arms over her chest and gripped her elbows to keep them there. Another shuffle back and sideways, distancing herself from her cousins, but watching them like a frightened hawk.

(s)"We were outnumbered, and ill-informed. Although, I figure what we *did* lose was a whole hell of a lot better than what we *would* have lost had they succeeded."

"No," His attention locked onto Andre, as he'd actually spoken, as he flickered out of and into existence it coincided with his movement towards Andre.

Apparently, the Nexus thought he'd taken enough punishment for tonight. "What the f*** had your father coming into my office to beat the s*** out of me?" He apparently didn't even notice the Nexial interference. He was *that* unhinged.

Relief and anxiety. He wasn't mad at her, but his anger wasn't directed correctly either. Noni's feet were glued to the floor. Fight or flight instincts warred against each other in her chest. (s)"What would he do that for..?"

The Assassin had missed that memo..

There was a moment where she looked like she faded, and reappeared a foot or so to the right of her previous position. Noni cleared her throat.

'Cisco turned back, and went to take his seat before the coffee table. The coffee was picked up, and he sipped it while he removed something from his jacket-pocket.

He didn't mind the burn, it was a welcome distraction from the tickling pain the cut was giving him. The item removed was a silver case, with an intricate and ornate skull engraved into its front. He opened it, and removed a single scalpel.

"You know, she was my favorite. I kept her the sharpest, and cleanest. I've even had her the longest. I think it was ironic he chose her; La Primera del Muerte." He downed more of the coffee. He needed it.

The Assassin didn't begrudge him that fact. Her caffeine needs were the last thing on her mind. The only thing in the forefront: how long would it be before her cousin figured out Vladimir's true target.

Andre's eyes narrowed. "He used it on you...?"

Disbelief fell like fallen paperwork from a rooftop. Weightless and directionless, but thrown into flight for a reason. A reason to be found out before those papers hit the greasy puddles of rainwater on the streets below.

"...You're telling me he did it to you with her?" Andre was fluent in Cisco's weapons. Not without Cisco's consent, of course. He confided that much with him in the past.

Gloved hands pass roughly through her hair as she let her frustration out in a forced sigh and once more began to pace. (vsw)"He's going to murder someone.." Shaking her head.

"I don't think it was by design, but yes." His voice was flatter now, devoid of the rage that had flooded him earlier. "He used her like a steak knife."

"We all know how much Vladimir loves his meat. It's a wonder why butchering didn't become a hobby..." He gestured to Co's face, scoffing. "I guess he found the next best thing. Do you want me to talk to him about it?"

It was a meaningless question. But he wanted to know their stand of his father at this point.

He wanted to know if they feared him or not.

'Cisco stiffened as he listened to the half-conversation. Though, as it went on, he struggled back into his normal posture. When it was over he stood, and brushed off his haphazard tatters of a suit.

(m)"Debo ahora ir.." He knew, and it was apparent. He just had a phone call to make at this point. Any traces of bitterness were wiped from his face, and he began to move for the door.

(s)"No don't-!" Calling out as her cousin stood and moved. She didn't know why. Noni knew she deserved each layer of rage and punishment she was getting and going to get because of this.

Shaking fingers pushed her phone closed, and she watched 'Cisco througha sheen of water masking dark chocolate eyes.

Francisco stopped at the door, and turned back to face her fully.

His eyes settled on her face, and he cracked a smile that made his cut bleed again. It was meant to be softer. (s)"Cualquier otra persona,
Noni. Cualquier otra persona ser?a muerto."

With that he turned and left, like a summer breeze tainted with the stink of death.

She felt years younger, like she was fifteen again. Waiting for the buckshot to come, and when it did, it didn't hurt as much as she thought it would. Her lips pursed together as the water spilled over her cheeks, and her knees refused to hold her up anymore.

Rhythmic thuds sounded as the shelves hit her shoulderblades on her way down to the ground. Her curls bounced when she made it there.

Andre hadn't said a peep. Instead, the only conversation he had was the soft one between his fingers and his chain.

Fingertips kneaded the steel of his Zodiac charm.

Secretly, he wished for his mother.

And even more secretly, he was ashamed of himself for being
such a sissy about the ordeal.

But was it really cowardice?

Vladimir was a dangerous man.

Noni felt embarrassed after shouting, and rested her forehead
against her knees, trying to draw her legs up to her chest, hoping she
would disappear.

Her head seared with pain as water dripped from her
eyelids even though she fought it back.

Andre didn't know what to say. He hated himself for lacking words at this crucial moment. Instead, he let his head fall into his hands and shut his eyes.

Fingers curled to grip and pull at his hair. Shaking his head slowly, he only thought of one word.

"Merde...."

She was angry at herself for crying, even for the briefest
moment. The rattle of pills sounded next as she popped the cap of the
bottle and ate three large, white capsules without water. Her tears had
dripped onto her gloves, and she pulled them off, seeing where the
dried blood was re-wetted.

Some slow moments later, she rose to her feet, and slid her phone into her pocket.

The tension in the room wasn't helping her breathing.

Andre also stood. He immediately turned his back to her, towards the door. Those jade eyes had a smooth glaze to them. He was close to tears himself. Times like these made him hate himself. Tonight's original plan was to look like how his father did in his youth.

He wanted to look like the monster who was harming and beating his very own cousins.

He slowly began to walk towards the door without a word.

One hand settled to the back of his head, cradling it. The other gently rubbed his back, his shoulders, his neck. Any place that her small arm could reach.

(vs)"This isn't your fault.. you're not the one
that set this up. You have to remember that."
Her tears stopped where others' began. It was an oddity that she had noticed. Try as she might to make herself cry along with anyone else, she couldn't until she thought they didn't want a shoulder to lean on anymore.
(s)"It's not your fault, Andre.."

Those words, continuously repeated until they were mere breath than nothing, were the only things she could think of that would provide any bit of comfort.

Even if he didn't believe her, as long as he heard that she said them and meant them, she could try and live with it.

The life that came belatedly to the puppet named Andre came with a vengeance. But softness melted onto his limbs, allowing him to soften the embrace to add true love to them.

Love between relatives were a love that was unconditional.

That love kept his eyes closed, as tears continued to fall from his eyes like raindrops.

A kiss was repaid every other second. Fingers twirled and unwound from her curls admiringly.

Like an oversized child stubbornly not wanting Mommy to go away on a long journey.

As far as he knew, he may never see her again after tonight.

Who could know?

An atheist didn't leave the unknown outcome to God.

Wiping his dried riverbeds of streaked tears from his face with the back of his hand, he shrugged. At that moment, he did look like
a little boy. A little boy of 23 years old that was 6 foot and three inches tall. "It's been a rough night..."

(s)"Yeah.. it has." She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window, and she was startled. She was expecting to see terror, fatigue, sadness: any of those things. But her face was a blank canvas, pale, just about ready to receive the first drops of paint. Dark
chocolate eyes were smoldering and hard, lips pursed to a gentle line. (s)"But.. like I said. I will handle your father. He has absolutely no right in bringing my group, Francisco, or.. anyone else.. into this." Vladimir was also in that group of people that spooked her, even more so than nearly anything else. (s)"I should like to think that he'd want to place the blame on the *right* person." Luvvie flashed angrily in the light, and clicked against her ribs when she folded her arms. (s)"I should take you home. It's better that I show up on his doorstep willingly than on mine with force."

Andre shrugged. Following Noni's gaze, he broke the first boyish smile of the night. He ran his own thumb to wipe away whatever
tears she missed. "You're lucky tonight's different. Otherwise, I'd demand you to tuck me in..." He winked, eyes now clear of tears. He had hands on his hips, grinning weakly. "I like it when pretty ladies tell me bedtime stories."

(s)"Yes, well, if your father has his way, I won't be a pretty lady for a while." Waving her hand dismissively at his comment. He knew her viewpoint on her looks. She was told she looked like her mother. But that's where it was different. She *looked* like her, she
*wasn't* her. Her jab at her future facial arrangement was more in jest than anything else. Make fun of your fears, right? Noni crossed to
the door, Docs silent on the ground, bell silent on its hook as she pulled the door open, and gestured out into the sticky night for her cousin. (s)"And to be expertly clear. I don't want you anywhere near us while I'm talking to him." More for her sake than his. She didn't want for him to see what she was about to become.

He heaved a sigh, following in suit. A thumb hooked one of his suspenders, tugging at his loosened tie. His fedora was lost at the firefight earlier. It wasn't a problem. He had dozens of equal value and quality to replace it with.

(s)"What about a drink, do you need one too?" Hopefully asked, letting the door fall shut quietly behind them. The humid air clung to her skin, and she hated it, glad that she was only in a long white tee shirt and dark shorts.

"I need several. And other things that I won't get." He sighed, rolling his stiffened shoulders. He would have to call his massage therapist tomorrow. He was in for a long session of working on Andre to work out all the kinks built tonight. The heat hit him, but had no
affect. He was busy wondering how he'd sleep tonight. Gunshots rang in his ears like cavernous echoes.

Heart-stopping Excitement

Fio curled into a tighter ball, the black satin sheets cool against her skin. The windows in the apartment had been left open, the night air just fresh enough to keep sweat from collecting on their skin.

Daniel was stretched out, arms akimbo, next to Fiorella on the bed. His chest rose and fell steadily, mouth hanging open slightly. His breath was hot against Fio?s neck. Her back was to him, their naked bodies pressed against each other. Across the room, a digital clock read 2:31am. Fio stared at it blankly, unable to fall asleep.

Whether it was guilt or something else entirely, she knew that falling asleep would be detrimental. Daniel shifted behind her, his head finally turning another direction. Fiorella sighed in relief when he didn?t show signs of waking. This wasn?t exactly a mood for chit-chat. The clock now read 2:48am and Fiorella began to grow bored.

The sounds drifting in from the street below were hardly exciting. Just the occasional rambling drunk singing off-key or the clip-clop of horse?s hooves trotting by. The nightstand beside her suddenly became illuminated. It was her phone. Brows furrowing, Fio reached for the sleek, black cell phone and flipped it on. Bluish-white light flooded the bed, causing her to squint at the screen. It was a text from Andre. As she became accustomed to the blinding light, she gave a small gasp.

?Bad deal. Vlad almost shot. Come home now.?

Nausea swept over her entire body like a tidal wave; she had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. As ireful as her father had the tendency to make her, Fio couldn?t bare the thought of him getting hurt and this news tore her to pieces. Glancing over at Daniel, Fio frowned. She didn?t want to just slip away in the middle of the night, but she didn?t feel like explaining anything at the moment. Not when she didn?t have any details.

Carefully sitting up, she gave a shiver as the night air brushed against her naked body. Fingers pressed against the keys of her phone in a reply to her brother before pressing ?send?. As quietly as possible, she slid off the bed and found her clothing which had been haphazardly strewn about the room in their frenzied path to the bed.

In the kitchen, Fio left Daniel a note saying she?d be in touch, then eased through the back door. Once hitting the cobblestone street, she flipped her phone back on, dialed Andre?s number and waited for him to pick up.

By the time the cab driver came to a stop, it was almost 4am. Fio flung a wad of paper crowns at him and kicked the door open. She was livid.

According to Andre, the deal had indeed gone bad. Their father had almost been shot because the perimeter had not been fully scoped and to top it all off, Vladimir had gone out and done something stupid because Noni was avoiding people. The guard dogs barked viciously as Fio stormed up the path towards the large, wrought iron gate in front of the Brownstone she called home.

After keying in the code, the gate creaked open and Fio continued her path up towards the house. The dogs continued to bark incessantly, tugging at their chains, lunging for the irate woman spewing latin curses.

??Callate!? she yelled angrily at them. The dogs whined and cowed away, as if suddenly remembering a past wrath brought upon them by the flame-haired Argentine.

Just as the top step of the porch was reached, the door opened as if in cue. Their doorman, Gordon, bowed low as Fiorella stormed past him, then closed the door behind her. Her high heels clicked loudly against the tile floor. ?Where is he?? she roared, looking around for anyone who would be able to answer her questions.

Andre didn?t appear to be home. The entire lower level of the Brownstone was checked before she sent him a text. While waiting for a reply, one of the maids came into the setting room where Fio was waiting.

?Tiene mi padre y hermano lleg? a casa, a?n??

The maid, who seemed startled at being addressed, shook her head. ?No he visto a tu hermano, pero su padre regres? a casa media hora atr?s.?

Half an hour ago? Fio frowned and without thanking their maid, headed for the winding staircase that led upstairs.

?Papi?? The hallway was dark, but she could hear running water. ?Daddy? Where are you? Are you alright?? The further she crept down the blackened hallway, the more nervous she became. Rounding a corner, Fio saw the first flicker of light. It was coming from Vladimir?s room, but the door was closed.

?Papi?? She called out again, leaning against the door. She knocked and where there was no answer, she pushed it open. Green eyes found nothing in the room out of the ordinary. She also didn?t see her father. Fiorella moved across the room, heading for the balcony when a loud clatter came from the adjoining bathroom.

?Fiorella,? came a feeble voice.

Relief flooded her senses. ?Daddy.? She sat on the bed and stared at the bathroom door that was slightly cracked. ?Andre said you?d been shot at. I was so worried that I came home to see if you were alright.?

The faucet turned off. ?I?m.. I?m alright.?

?He also said you went to see Francisco.? Fiorella pursed her lips, not sure how to proceed. ?Daddy? What happened?? She waited several minutes for a response and when none came, she prodded again. ?Daddy?? A low moan came from behind the door. ?Papi?? This time her voice was more frantic.

The door was flung open and Vladimir staggered out, right hand clutching his left arm. ?Fiorella, it? Duele. No puedo respirar,? he wheezed.

Leaping from the bed, Fiorella bounded to her father?s side and put an arm around him. His face was red, sweat beading on his forehead. ?Pap?, me dicen qu? hacer. ?Qu? tiene de malo??

?Angelo!? Fiorella screamed as loudly as she could, helping her father over to the bed. ?Papi, just rest. Try to relax.? Helping him to sit on the edge of the bed, Fiorella kissed his cheek and darted to the door, screaming for Angelo again.

?Fiorella,? Vladimir called out for his daughter frantically as he fell off the bed and onto the floor.

?Pap?!? She turned so quickly that her heel caught in the carpet and made her fall. Her knees and palms burned from the impact, Fiorella yelped and crawled over to her father, rolling him onto his back. Tears streamed down her face as she cradled her father, rocking him back and forth.

July 22nd: Early morning hours

The Tea shop was quiet now that her cousin had been whisked away. She gathered up their old coffees, and tossed them out on her way to the counter. A wan look was given to the woman, who smiled, and filled Noni's order without even asking for it. A generous amount of bills were pulled out from her back pocket, and slid forward. Then, she slipped from her jacket, and folded it over her arm. Luvvie gleamed as she was revealed. "Thanks." Her coffee was barely on the counter two seconds before she took it up into hand and sipped deeply from it. Noni gave a nod, her lips pursing instead of smiling. It burned her tongue, and seared her throat on the way down, but she didn't care. It was caffeine, and she needed plenty of it.

"You're welcome." So swift, the turning of one of the pages of any given book in that wretched place couldn't compete. He was nowhere to be seen. But with his words came the knowledge that he was indeed present. Somewhere.

Noni's heart jumped into her throat. It wasn't very easy to startle her, and that had her irritated almost immediately. Her left hand was poised over Luvvie's grip by the split second she'd turned around, fudge dark eyes hair thin and searching. She swallowed, and shook herself. "Bon soir.. Reggie.." Fire ignites somewhere deep in angry eyes as they scrape the insides of the small shop, anxiety and irritation mounting by each silent second.

"'ave you missed me?" Finally, emerging as if from the very volumes of books themselves, he walked down the stairs. His speed was uncanny. And his stealth was second to none. Single bandage was over the bridge of his nose, an unlit cigarette between his lips. Cigarettes served him as a coffin nail and toothpick interchangeably. "What am I saying...Of course you 'ave." Then, that smile emerged. The one that showed the years between them clear as day.

As she has to with nearly all she speaks to, her neck cranes to stare up into his face. His one eyed, bandaged, cocky smiling face. Oh, how she wants to shoot his teeth from his gums. Luvvie seems to share that ambition. "It depends on your version of "miss", Reggie.. There are many things I am towards you."

His steps took him towards her. Like any of skill, he kept a healthy distance between them. From one headhunter to another, though, he was quite up close and personal. Eyes of blue were searching her. No strip search, more like a treasure hunt. And then, his smirk only further etched onto his face when he found it. "Ah, you're 24 now, towards me..." Yet disappointment and slight shimmers of anger shimmered in his eyes. "'E gave you zeh family discount."

Her mouth parted in surprised. Her face was bandaged.. How did he know? Had he been watching her when she changed it..? Fear and anger exploded in her chest, fighting for dominance there. "Eye for an eye, right?" There was a flurry of motion, then a slow click as Noni cocked Luvvie's hammer, pointing it right at that smile. "Give me a reason not to, I swear to god.."

It was one of his days off. Which were in greater sums than he'd have liked. Dressed down in a white jacket, he had a black dress shirt underneath that had a v-shaped flare at the collar. And simple blue jeans. "Hardly, mon joli 24..." He was unarmed. Or was he? The gun pointed at him inspired the Frenchman to maintain that smirk. "Mon cher, zhis is hardly zhe place for God. Or for your piece. It's hardly profressional."

"Neither are you." It was spat, like tobacco, from her mouth with rage, and she squeezed the trigger without another moment's hesitation. It was an emotional reaction, but also a test. Because while Noni knew that she replaced him, she wasn't granted with a plethora of information. She wanted to see just what made him so special, or what made him so easy to throw away.

That obnoxiously long braid of his was a natural strawberry blonde, bangs of unruly lengths only framed his face. They fluttered in the breeze stirred up by his sidestep. Limp cigarette hung from his lips, its home being there for the time being. "I don't 'ave to be." He let out a menacingly low laugh of a rumble, now taking on a sidelong walk towards a chair. He kept moving slow and sleekly in hopes of agitating the angry child some more. "But you? You need to be very, very careful with 'ow you present yourself. Caffeine stumps your growth." Proof that he had been watching her for some time. "It's no wonder you're small. Ah, but all zhe better to work with, no? It suits you."

The window across the room shatters as the slug zooms through it, and the counter woman's shriek is heard from the back room. Noni waves her off, a gesture that both says 'Shut up' and 'Get the hell out of here' at the same time. "Spare me, Reggie. I present myself just *fine*." Oh, the zounds of self control that forces Luvvie back into her sling. To regain composure, Noni twists around, and places her coffee and jacket on the counter. A lone shard of glass clatters out of the frame and breaks upon the ground. "And I didn't think that my size had anything to do with it." Waving her hand again. Without the jacket, her outfit of snug dark cloth and denim was revealed. Sleeveless dark top, letting her tree root-like scar flare in its rippled glory; and tight, faded jeans.

Slightly pleased, he only rose a brow at her gesture. No flinch, no drawing back in startlement. He was accustomed to that sound. That was his usual lullaby to audiences of every shape, size, and nationality. "Vlad already spared you. You should be glad 'e did." With that, he took a seat. For a gunman, he was quick to sit back and relax. Then again, he was never one to stress. Unless on the job. And even then, that was a stretch.

"It's not your place to tell me who I should and shouldn't be afraid of. Especially when it concerns my Uncle." Quick to defend her Family to the core. "What in *god's* name is your problem with me..? Did I kill your brother, or.. or something? I would say wife, but, well.." Trailing off. Noni wasn't one to play the bitch card very well, seeing as how had this been an actual job, Reggie would have been dead, and she would have been gone. The fact that he wasn't was unnerving.

The devilishly handsome cyclops grinned up at her. Suddenly, a match was struck. From the back of his heel, he brought the stick of wood to his cancer stick. The end came to life, and it gently sizzled in its gently slow burn. "Little girl," his words came with puffs of smoke. The French locomotion now had its pipe oozing lazy trails of smoke from its tip. "Don't pretend like you 'ave the upper hand. You may 'ave zhe employment, but only because of your last name."

"Funny how you have neither of those.." She was staying right where she was, her head turning gently, watching him out of the corner of her eye. She couldn't call Tam, but if her spy was her spy, she wouldn't have to. But that didn't explain why she was taking so long. "My Uncle does not tolerate failure or mistakes, Reggie. Don't make it out like I have nothing to be proud of. If you're as good as you claim, to be dropped like you were.. I must be better, don't you think..?"

"You know Vladimir...." Cigarette was withdrawn from his lips, held between his index and middle naked fingers. The hand armed with the cig was waved once to stress sarcastically fond recollection. His hands were usually gloved white. Another sign that it was in fact his day off. "Primero la familia, or somezhing like zhat. It's his damned anzhem." His mouth prompted a quick reunion with his cigarette, taking a long drag. Inhaled, he looked towards her with his one blue eye.

She snorted, folding her arms. "He wasn't always like that, or else you wouldn't have gotten quite the bug up your rear end. Tell me, Reggie.. how *did* you screw up..? I'd love to hear how you gave me my job.." The fire previously ignited flared to life deep in her eyes. She was excited, maybe even too much so. The beast within was clawing at its cage.

"'e was always like zhat. I've lived longer zhan you. And 'ave worked for him longer zhan you 'ave." Resting his arm on the armrest, the cigarette stayed lazily breathing its gray ribbons."But, if you must know.." he tilted his head to one side, cuing that stupid grin of his to reappear upon his one-eyed face. "..I could possibly tell you." Cautioningly, he held the cigarette-endowed hand upwards with a grin. "On one condition."

"What." Like a gunshot of sound; a slow, appraising upnod being given. Her fingers, at this point, were digging into the crooks of her elbows, and the fire burning in her cheeks caused her injury to sting.

Smoke flowed from his nostrils with a loud exhale of relish. There was a delightful little pause to increase the anticipation. As if to bide time, he sat up to flick the cigarette's ashes in her direction. It was purposely done to land precisely at her feet. He wondered just how jumpy this little coil-headed mademoiselle was. "Zhat you sit with me. Take a load off, as zhe saying goes, no?" Brows furrowed, almost certain she'd refuse. But the French cyclops did so love this. He couldn't wait to see that lovely number on that lovelier face after it scarred. Every gunner had the badges to show for it.

A sharp exhale was made and she pulled her toes back abruptly, watching the grey dust fall at her toes. Split second decisions.. She could run, but he was between her and the door. There was always the back door, but who's to say that she wouldn't get stopped there? Did she have a choice? Quick zip zaps of motion: her coat thrown down, her coffee slammed to his table, then she flounced into the chair across from him. "Fine." Every muscle in her body was screaming for her not to, and she practically had to hold herself within that chair.

A surprised, but pleased expression had his face gain an air of spinelessness. The long blond braid aided in the imagery of a serpent, its curling mass showing itself in fragments as he sat forward to rest sleeved arms on jeaned pantlegs. "Now, isn't zhis better?" Spreading both arms, cigarette becoming a writing utensil for the air to serve as colorless parchment. "I'm surprised Vladimir 'asn't told you 'imself. Nothing stays buried forever..." An eye previously looking to the cigarette now shifted like an aimed gun to Noni across the way. "...Not even brozhers and sisters."

Everything he said prior to that was lost. His putrid French accent clogged her ears, repeating those same words over and over again. Her breathing hitched to the point that it rattled in her chest, and she felt like she was going to pass out. "Don't you *EVER* talk about my brother, do you understand?!" Nails had dug beneath layers of flesh now, and she felt wet blood coat her fingertips. To do something would mean he won.. and she wasn't going to give that to him.

The cigarette that was guided by his fingers was abandoned to dangle from his lips, lips flexing to offer a wider smirk that showed teeth. "Four years ago, when Vladimir was a bit livelier, 'e 'ad more of a social life. Gala's, parties, fundraisers, no? I remember you laughing at Andre and Fiorella whenever zhey'd be dressed to tag along." He snorted gently, unphased by her outburst. "Your Uncle wanted to give his image a facelift. By the end of that night, it was eye under the knife..." There was only amusement ringing in his reminiscent French voice. One eye kept itself affixed on her. A single half a glimpse is given to the burrowing nails inflicted upon herself. He brought a finger to tap the covering of his three-bolted shining leather eye patch, grinning darkly at such a memory.

Some sort of noise broke her throat, and she gripped the table, preparing to flee until he started speaking. Bloody fingers stayed where they were. He'd been watching her since then, it was disgusting. She hated it. She wanted to skin herself, and take a shower in acid. Wanted to get the feeling of his eyes, now eye, off of her. "This is supposed to make me feel sorry for you? You nearly get countless members of my Family killed just because you're *jealous* of me?!" She whipped out his note and slammed it on the table, watery eyes staring down to it, and wishing it would burst into flames. "You're too slow. Tick tock, gunshot, Bonita Nonita.." She read aloud, and flung it towards his face in fury. "I've heard enough of your idiocy. If you were half as, no, a millionth as important as you think you are, I wouldn't have been able to take your job. At seventeen. Reggie."

"Don't give me so much credit, Bulletcatcher." That predatorial yet sarcastically sincere tone had that smile enhanced by several degrees. "You were curious. You asked. And I answered your question. You're complicating zhings. Already a bad sign, mon ami." He clicked his tongue softly, waving his cigarette-ly owned fingers in a tsk-ing gesture, still grinning pure ill intentions.

"I'm not, nor will I ever be, your friend." So he knew her nickname too. That lit a flame of pride in her. At least it got around. "And it's not illegal to make conclusions all on my own. Your actions really speak for themselves. I'm flattered. Really." She dusted the corners of her eyes quickly with the back of her hands. "So, *Reggie*." Emphasis on that this time. The beast was riled once more, pushing aside the cowering child she kept restrained with ball and chains. "If you're not here because you're jealous, did you just miss me too?"

"Why not be 'ere?" Said as a theatrical act was taken. He spread his arms to indicate his words, cigarette writing smokely signatures through the air as his hand moved with purpose. "It's hard to resist stepping on your toes. You're clean, which I noticed. But you're getting sloppy." Like any critic, he shrugged. "Your little posse? Disjointed. Not tight enough. You'll learn..." Reginald the cyclops grinned widely still, bringing the cig to his lips for another shortening of his life.

She shuddered, and rubbed at her face, regardless of how it made her bleed, and then smoothed back her hair. Noni didn't need to be reminded that she was being watched. "My little posse works fine when sadistic wormheads don't plant nukes in the sewer system. But that's all good and well. No one important died." She touched the right side of her face, feeling the blood begin to soak through the bandage. There was nothing for it but to take it off. And when she did, oh was it nasty. A nearly perfect, backwards, numerical '24' left in blood. Now without restraint, crimson flows like a river, and she jumps to her feet.

"What a relief." Grinning, he flicked the ashes of his cigarette sidelong, this time. Bangs of a birth right color of golden orange remained chandeliering his face as a single blue eye looked into the scar with unhinged delight. "And zhere it is. 'ow much do you love your Uncle now? Could you sit down to dinner with him and his gay son and headstrong daughter and 'ave a toast?" Reginald looked up to her, standing slow as well. "After all, your job is strictly professional. They are family, no?"

He had someone else carve her face, too disgusted to really be in the same room with her as he was. Not even the fact that she presented the possible culprit did anything to help her case. Noni smashed the bandage back to her face, but it barely does a thing. "Get *bent*, Reggie. They are my family, and just because you were kicked to the curb like some repulsive french hooker does *not* give you the right to talk about them that way." She had to find them. She had to tell them they were being watched. For three years. Because of some ridiculous grudge this psychopath harbored. Smoldering dark eyes narrowed to her rival Assassin, and her teeth grit, swallowing all the spanish expletives she knew back down into her stomach.

"Zhat's 'ow old 'e was, no? Vladimir isn't losing 'is touch. Where he lacks in physical cruelty 'e makes up for in emotional. We can both agree on zhis..." A hand hid in his pocket while the other hosted the cig that had little life left. "And now, your associates will find it ard to resist calling you that number.

"If they do, I won't have any left." Like a serpent's hiss, her voice. High, shrill, animalistic. Her hands were shaking, and she knew she couldn't hold onto her rage any longer. Unfortunately, 'Cisco had no more presents that she could beat to death. She would have to channel her energies in some other fashion.

"Zhis is only zhe beginning. If it's any comfort to you, I still find you very pretty." Shrugging his shoulders wistfully, he let out the last breath of smoke for the night. "But, alas, les affaires avant le plaisir." That wide grin remained, as if he were carefree and full of time. He was certainly full of time, but also exceptional at hiding his many concerns. "If zhey don't, zhere will be none left eventually. Whether you like it or not, you're just a pawn of a bigger game. You know it."

"Now I feel like presenting the rest of myself to a herd of sharks." It was disgusting.. and she couldn't deal with it. Paranoia was setting in. He'd been watching her for three years, and saw her plenty before that. He knew too much about her, and she knew too little about him. And now he was back to wreak havoc for his insane vendetta. Regardless of what he said, that's what she took it as. Pride was pride, but the facts spoke for themselves. "I never cared what I was, Reggie. If you've seen anything of me, you'd know that. Everyone is always so adamant about leading their own life, and wanting to be free to cut themselves to pieces. It may hurt, but at least it's my choice, right?" Her head jerks in a shake. "I've chosen my path, and it's this. And I do it damn well."

Reginald didn't need looks to kill for him. He had that taken care of. He continued to speak to her back. She already made the mistake of letting an enemy see it. "You care enough to be what you do." Though the answer was obvious, his one eye narrowed and only gave entry to a wider grin. "Zhis is why you're still alive. You're more valuable walking. If you love your family so much, you should remember zhat a killer will have an army of ghosts after zhem zhat will never end. And Ghosts of zhose you love will be zhe highest ranking of that army...." Then he laughed once. "Ah, but what do I know? I'm a has-been, if zhat is how zhe phrase goes." And his long braid of blonde was pushed aside with his index finger dismissively. "Correction. You're more valuable...killing."

Maybe it was because she didn't view him as an enemy that she let him see her back. Or maybe it was because she didn't want him to see her face. The tears that spilled from her eyes hung on her jawline for mere moments, then splashed to the floor. She wouldn't sob, she wouldn't. That much she knew. But she felt her vision glaze over as the faces of those she'd taken down swam before her eyes. Surprised faces, angry faces, sad faces, pleading faces. Faces contorted, faces stained with blood. And finally, her brother's face. Smiling. Crying. Trying to tell her it wasn't her fault. Then slackening as he choked on her bullets and his last breath. Her free hand clamped over her gaping mouth, and she sucked in a long, wheezy breath.

His finger pressed down on his bandage that was over the bridge of his nose. Spreading over it to add more stick to the adhesive, he turned away promptly. Casual footsteps lead him to a back entrance he helped himself to that the girl had left ajar. A final glance is sent to this place. A final scope. And then he was gone.