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Vassili

Vassili and Sal had been dancing longer than ten minutes. The last song had played and Vas was now humming a slow waltz like tune for them to move to. Except his humming was interrupted by something.

"Did you hear that?" He let her going. He knew that sound. Knew it better than his own heart beat. A nine millimeter being fired in the square below. Vassili was already behind the bar, pulling a very large revolver out of its case.

"Stay here." Vassili was already down the stairs and pushing cowering people aside. He saw blood staining the entrance way, Vincent reloading a pistol. Vassili stuck his head out the door and was greeted by the sound of more shot, slamming into his jacket. He staggered back into the cafe and then walked right out the door, revolver raised. The gun erupted with all the power of long grain forty five could and a silence fell over the square after a single shot.

Vassili walked back into the cafe and picked Vincent up ready to toss him out.

"The rest of you go home, parties over. Vincent, your a nice bloke, but I don't like people who bring trouble." That's when he noticed the blood and the fact that Vincent was barely standing, leaning heavily against Vassili.

"s**t." Vassili heard sirens and slammed the door shut locking it, everyone had left finally.

((Oh yeah more drama. I love drama.))

Naomi

Naomi's side cramped as her ears picked up the sounds near the front door. She grabbed it and sat upright immediately covered in a cold sweat. Gunshots, there had been three of them. The sudden silence told her that most, if not all the patrons, had left but also that someone was injured, unfortunately. On instinct, Naomi rolled off her bed and grabbed the medical kit from under her bed. She had not used it in years. There was not a reason to do so.

The manager pulled on her robe to cover her PJs and walked briskly out her door to the Cafe. There, she stopped. It was Vincent. The stupid b*****d went and got himself shot. Cursing herself mildly, Naomi approached the pair of Vas and Vincent and leaned under the injured man to get him over to the nearest chair. The gun in Vas' hand had not registered as yet. At that moment, her main priority was to help Vincent in the best that she could before taking him to the hospital. Once he was on a chair, Naomi unbuttoned his shirt for a better view of the wound.

"You stupid child," she muttered, flashing light to see if the bullet was still in him. It was but she could get it. The woman worked deftly as she sterilized her equipment for such a task and kept him back as she tugged to pull it out. "Not as if I care but this is going to hurt a little." She wiggled the giant tweezer-like thing on the bullet until finally, it budged and sprang free. Her hand went to it immediately with a square of gauze soaked in spirits. "This might hurt too. Um, Vas, can you help me dress him please? I have to wrap him in bandages." Her eyes flickered over to the other man and picked up on the gun in his hand at last. "And I'll ask you about that gun later but right now, can you please help me?"

During the whole procedure, she had not allowed herself to look Vincent in the eye and she still could not. Naomi stood and pulled out the roll of bandages, ready to fix what could have been avoided.

Vincent

"I'm not going to a hospital. Rozzers will take me to jail, especially since you blew that guys brains onto the ground." Vincent was gritting his teeth through the procedure. He looked at at Vas, still wearing that damned mask.

"You were really going to kick me out into the street. a*****e. And your not my mother. I know how ******** dangerous it is. I know its illegal. It pays good too." Vincent looked over at Naomi, noticing her trying not to look at him.

"It was my last deal anyways. I've been trying to get rid of this s**t for eight weeks. And I go to a meeting with an unloaded gun for a reason. It is an intimidation factor. So they won't try to kill me, knowing I can do the same to them. So ******** off. I can dress myself." Vincent was pale and tried to stand, but fell back into the chair. He was going to pass out.

"I swear been trying to get rid of it for weeks. I don't wanna sell drugs anymore." And then he was out.

Naomi

Naomi watched Vas leave with the boy over his shoulder. She slipped silently into the pulled out chair, holding Vincent's shirt close and nodded even though the man had already disappeared up the stairs. Her eyes passed over the numerous bags of drugs and still working on auto, she repacked her kit and took up the bags with a glove on her hand. Once she was in her room, Vas' orders were completed. Nothing had quite hit her as yet. Her mind was reeling with past images of her life but they all led back to the blue bunny on little boy's lighter. That woke her up.

The manager replaced her kit under the bed and headed for the stairs. He wanted to get off the streets, his last deal. Naomi scoffed at the notion. None of her believed it for a second but for now, what mattered was that he got better. What little medical background she had would not be enough. He would have to go a hospital eventually, whether he wanted to or not.

Sal

Sal did not face Vas as she answered him. The pistols were not doing anything good for her well being. "She's probably more mad that you did not tell her upfront about them than anything else. Nami has this thing about honor." She hugged her knees and tried to keep the tears at bay. "Do you think that Vincent will make it?"

Sal

Sal rested her head against her sister but did not quite cry as yet. In all her years, she had never allowed a man to see her weep in the name of sadness. It could have somthing to do with pride or another kind of fear. She closed her eyes and let Nami's words penetrate her mind. They took her back to that night - her dad, the gun, the blood and pain. Instantly, her body stiffened at the memories and she grabbed onto her sister for dear life. Sal buried her face in the nape of her sister's neck to control her breathing. Her heart was still racing though.

Naomi

Naomi listened intently as Vas spoke to her. She understood his points and reasons for those possessions but she knew from experience that they could be used for other purposes unfortunately. At least, his own was registered but she would have to nag Vincent about his when he woke up. Naomi adjusted herself with Sal clutching at her the way she was. It had been years since it was necessary to cradle her like a baby.

When Vas revealed the contents of the duffel, she would admit that she was taken aback. Who needed that much ammunition? The question was on the tip of her tongue but for Sal's sake, it would be better to ask about it later. Knowing that she should probably saying something now, Naomi let go of her sister but kept her hand on her thigh.

"Hmm, I get all of that and I respect it. As for your over the top weaponry, it can stay. I know that you don't need or want my permission for that but personally, it makes me feel better that I permitted it than you just doing your own thing. Your reasons are understandable. You're just trying to keep them out of the wrong hands." At this point, Naomi yawned. It was too early in the morning to be having such a serious conversation and yet, here they were. She pulled even further away from Sal, holding on to a hand. "Anyway, I agree that Vincent should stay a few days. I would have to redress his wounds either way, the big baby.

She looked up at Vas. "I'm leaving Sal with you. You two are probably tired. I know I am." With that said, Naomi walked away from Sal completely and headed for the back closet where he had stashed Vincent. Silently, she entered and sat at his feet, leaning against the wall. She still could not face him but at least if he woke up with the injury, she would be here to help.

Vassili

Vassili stared past Sal for a moment. Reflecting on a thousand different scenes. Crying mothers, wife's, husbands as he left their loved one's bodies on the floor. But a comment rose up through this. 'Fun with your toys.' He would have gone off on anyone else. He would have yelled at them for being so incredibly stupid. No that was behind him. With deft movements all the ammo, and both pistols were tucked into the duffel. He tossed it away and hopped over the bar as if it were a two foot fence and not a four foot counter. With care that would have made his brothers gag with sick and hurt with laughter he wrapped both arms around her.

"They aren't toys. They aren't what I do, or what I am, or how I live anymore. They are tools that I cannot throw away, and anchors that keep me mired in the past. Everyone has baggage, mine just happens to be able to kill in the wrong hands." Vassili breathed deeply hoping that a calming presence would stop the tears.

"I didn't know about your fears. I don't ask, I don't need to know it is yours to tell. It is okay to cry and be afraid. I don't know what it is like to be afraid. I imagine it is like what I am feeling. Losing friends because of my past. I've never had friends. Only brothers. Comrades in arms. I killed them, all of them. Just before I went into the forest. They were trying to kill me. My last four brothers ordered to kill me, and the obeyed like good soldiers." Vassili was silently crying now. He didn't sob, just tears fell from his eyes. A flaw in the genetic engineering.

"I'm sorry for whatever happened to you in the past." Vassili looked down into her face.