song_tra_bong | (no subject)

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The door opens onto a dimly lit bar. Two men in suits sit at a table by the wall, speaking in low voices; they don't look up when Mary Anne and Ramon walk in.

Four men at the pool table in the back do look up, then go back to their game. Their rolled up sleeves show off jailhouse tattoos--tattoos that mean murderers, time served, rank in their organization. Just because they aren't staring openly doesn't mean they aren't paying attention. The fact that no one makes a fuss just yet over Ramon's machine gun is telling.

A waitress in a short skirt goes by with a tray, delivering drinks to the suits by the wall. Mary Anne heads for the bar, taking a seat that's a few stools over from the next man. She beckons the bartender over.

"Vodka for me and my friend," she says in flawless Russian. "And keep them coming. We're out on the town tonight."

The bartender shakes his head. "You picked a hell of place to come," he says, but pours the drinks all the same then wanders down to the customer at the other end of the bar.

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'Don't care at all.'

He puts his knife back in its sheath up his sleeve, then retrieves the other one from the head of the first guy he took out. It's given a quick wipe before he puts it back in his boot, then he picks up the machine gun and slings it over his back.

'If we're staying on Earth it's probably better if I don't go to America.' He thinks. 'Or South America, or Britain. Or most of western Europe, or Australia.'

Those countries being generally friendly and him being an extremely wanted man. He picks up a bottle of vodka, opens it and takes a long swig, then pours some on his hands to help with removing the rapidly drying blood on them.

'Apart from there, we're fine.'

She arches an eyebrow at Ramon's creative approach to handwashing, then takes the bottle from him to try it out herself.

"Okay, new question: you interested a place to relax, or is loud and crazy okay with you?"

She sets the vodka bottle on the edge of the pool table, then crouches down beside the man Ramon knifed in the beginning. His shirt--a black, button-up long sleeve--is the least destroyed of any of the one's on the dead men, and certainly less destroyed than hers; between Kostya's blood and her own, she looks a little too nightmarish to be going anywhere in public.

With practiced efficiency, she peels the shirt from his body. Slipping her own over her head (with only a slight wince at the pull against her wound), she puts his on; she has to knot the bottom at her waist and roll up the sleeves, but other than that, it's a serviceable fit. She keeps her back to Ramon until she stands up, re-dressed; he's got a nice view of her tattoo during the process, but not much else.

He finds himself wishing she had turned around but pushes it away. Her back is still stared at appreciatively.

'Anywhere you like.'

He looks down at his own shirt which is, unfortunately, white. Then shrugs because fuck it.

'I'll ditch the gun somewhere outside. Lets get out of here, I'm bored now.'

Adrenaline's running high and he just wants to go out and get hammered.

"Ditch it here," she says, retrieving the two bottles she left on the bar.

"We can head out through the front door."

Not that she can't travel otherwise, but it's tends to be less disorienting for other people when she uses doors.

Hey, Ramon's used to walking though Shadow with Random. He'd be OK. But he's really not bothered so he just takes the gun off his back and wipes it down for fingerprints before throwing it on the floor.

'Ready when you are.'

Mary Anne checks to be sure her shirt covers her own gun, then shifts the vodka bottles so she can open the front door. She steps through into a crowded club, the bass line pounding loud enough to make any lyrics unintelligible. A bouncer stops her just inside, having to yell into her ear to be heard. She yells back and hands him one of the bottles of vodka. The man checks the label, eyes widening, then heads into the club.

Mary Anne motions for Ramon to follow her; the bouncer leads them to a semi-private booth in the back. The music back here isn't so much softer as just low enough to carry on a conversation without screaming.

"So, what do you think?"

;'Looks good to me.'

Looks perfect. This is going to be a good night.

'What did that guy want?'

He jerks his head in the direction of the bouncer.

She shrugs.

"Something about bringing in our own stuff." She gestures with her remaining bottle of vodka. "Apparently spreading the wealth got him to stop caring and was worth a better seat."

'Excellent.'

He settles back and watches the dancefloor for a moment, unconsciously eyeing the women shaking their stuff.

'It's not like we can't afford to buy our own - if they have anything good. Where are we anyway?'

Mary Anne cracks the cap on the vodka bottle and takes a swig before answering.

"Romania, I think. You said no western Europe, but I figured eastern Europe might be enough under the radar that we could have a good time."

'Should be fine.'

And it looks like no on ein this place would be really interested in noticing anyone else anyway. Or maybe it's a prime place for undercover cops to hang out but he doesn't care, Mary Anne will get him out quick if necessary and he just wants to have a good time.

A waitress arrives with glasses and to take their order - she frowns when she sees the vodka too but Ramon just hands her a twenty and tells her to go away for a while. And then pours drinks.

'This whole thing was a very good idea of yours.'

Which is his way of saying 'thanks.'

"I do have them every now and then."

Which is sort of like 'you're welcome.'

She lifts her glass.

"To getting some fresh fucking air."

'Fucking right.'

He raises his glass, then empties it.

It's good to get out of the bar.

'I can't remember the last time I jut took some guys out for the fun of it.'

And to be fair, they were assholes. Well, Anton was at least.

Edited 2008-03-05 10:05 (UTC)

"Me neither."

Well, there was that guy in Texorami, but technically Ramon asked so it wasn't just for fun. Not that she didn't enjoy it.

She takes another swig of vodka, grinning around the rim of her glass. "And it was very fun."

'Yeah, it was.'

He laughs, remembering the loook on Anton's face when the knife slipped into his gut.

'If you'd played with Kostya a bit longer, you could probably have made him cry. He was so sure he was going to get to fuck you.'

She smirks.

"He was sure, alright. Up until I slit his throat, he was sure."

("We could have had some fun, you and I; we still might, after Anton kills your friend.")

"You really think I could have made him cry?"

She might have fucked him, if there had been time to draw the game out that long. Still, she doesn't think that's something Ramon needs to know.

Ramon nods with a grin.

'He looke dlike he might right after things started going south for him. He'd obviously been looking forward to it - fuck him. Idiot.'

It never occurs to Ramon that Mary Anne would go for scum like that. he'd be surprised if she told him.

Scum is such a strong word...

Mostly what it boils down to is he was handsome enough and she liked the attention. She'd have fucked him to keep his attention and see how it changed the game. As it was, things played out differently.

"I thought the whole point was not fucking him," she snickers, topping off both their drinks. She leans back into the seat, letting the vodka and the pounding of the music just sink in.

He rolls his eyes good-humouredly.

'Funny.'

And glances round the club they're in.

'Anyone here take your eye?'

And oh the temptation to just look right back at him and say 'Yes.'

Still, she's sober enough and sane enough and responsible enough (for now) to know that would be a very foolish thing to do. Instead, she takes a look out at the dance floor.

"He's not bad." She points to a lanky blond with the look of a college kid backpacking through Europe.

"Or her." A girl with dark, wavy hair to her shoulders and a low-cut red top that flatters her curves.

"What about you?" If he gets to ask the married woman who she'd fuck, turn about seems like fair play. Even if the married woman is living by a slightly different set of marital rules than he is.

He looks at her for a long moment, then drop his eyes to the table top, before grabbing the vodka and taking a long drink straight from the bottle.

'No.'

Or maybe yes, but he can hardly admit and he's also too sober to go into this. The situation with Random is too hard to talk about.

Mary Anne doesn't want to put a damper on the mood, so she doesn't apologize.

"Just as well," she says instead.

"I'd be pissed if you abandoned your drinking buddy to go chase a piece of ass."

She taps her glass against the bottle, then drains it dry.

He smiles and is glad she's passed the moment by.

'Yeah well, you'd better not disappear on me then.'

No telling what he'd get up to on his own. Anyway, he refills his glass too and slumps back in the booth. When the waitress comes near he gets her to go get a bigar for him.

'You're probably more likely to.'

She shrugs and pours herself another drink.

"Maybe, but I'm not going anywhere. Haven't had a chance to get properly shitfaced with you in way too long; I'm not about to give that up."

Sex isn't that hard to come by; quality time with her best friend is.

'True. I don't think I can remember the last time we did this.'

He lights his cigar.

'My fault, I guess. I haven't been around all that much.'

He just figures she'll always be there.