churbooseanon

This story and the story for South Dakota (Hardened by the Years) are written in tandem. Each chapter between this and that is paired and centered around the same event, with different points of view and bits of info. Best read by reading first the South chapter and then the North, and so on like that.

Learning by the Numbers [Part Seven] - (A Guns for Hire Fanfic)

The one thing that had surprised Nicolas after their first mercenary gig had been the sheer amount of work that went into those first few hours after the job was done. First one went to ground, not at the home base, but somewhere they could stash the clothes and weapons from the job, possibly even any required loot for their employer until things died down a bit. After that there is the actual reporting to the employer-slash-client about the completion of the objective. A time might need set up for the exchange of goods, delivery of more substantial proof, or the transfer of funds if the person wasn’t a wire transfer kind of operator. After that there is the regathering all the stuff left to store in their beat up old jeep so they can cart it all home. Invariably they get to the garage, unload, and then Nicky declares they need something their small house lacks to properly celebrate their success. Food or drinks or even just a new DVD. They head back out, acquire the goods, and then return home for a day of downtime and recovery, the metaphorical and sometimes literal licking of wounds until they’re ready to go again.

It all builds up in his head so much that by the time they get to the house on the first pass, Nic never thinks to say ‘let’s just stop.’ Usually his mind is off the mission and just on rest, so he wants Nicky to have whatever he wants. It’s why he doesn’t complain when Nicky carefully puts down her new ‘Lola’ on the work table in the garage or demands his help moving crates of missiles she had stolen on the way out under said table. Nor does he think too hard about the fact that there is an extra Warthog-class jeep up the street when they drive off. And he’s definitely not thinking enough to be bothered by the unsecured airlock when he follows Nicky into the house from the garage when they come back to the house after picking up a pizza.

None of that means he doesn’t drop the bag of other groceries and reach for his pistol the second the kitchen lights come on, with Nicky nowhere near the switch.

There is a woman sitting at the kitchen table, and something in his chest aches because that helmet, that arrangement of white and blue clothing, and the skin tone of the ungloved hands makes him recall something out of his past. But his gun is trained on the other woman, the one by the door to the dining room where Nicky works on their guns and he plans missions. It’s on the woman in shades of blue and gold, leaning against the doorframe, unbothered by the weapons oriented on her.

Somewhere, deep inside, Nic is proud of his sister’s reflexes. She’s gotten way better, and her gun is trained with no hesitation on the red haired, poison-green eyed woman. Of course it’s not like Nicky would point her weapon at their other, helmeted ‘guest,’ so Nic transfers his own aim to her instead.

“Ace,” Nicky greets the woman at the table, who doesn’t seem to flinch away from the gun pointed at her, “nice to have you drop by for a visit. Who’s your friend.”

“Someone who thinks you need to be more cautious entering an obviously compromised location,” the redhead answers, her voice utterly bored, as if this situation isn’t the slightest bit of a threat to her.

“Oh fuck off before I put a bullet between your pretty green eyes,” Nicky snapped. “Or better yet, introduce you to Lola.”

“I don’t want to lose the security deposit on this place,” Nic reminds Nicky, tensing a bit as Ace stands.

“Dakota, stand down,” the racer orders, like she’s got some kind of authority in the situation. “We aren’t here to fight. Dakota, you know me well enough to know that I don’t intend to hurt you outside of wounding your pride a little, right?”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Nic snarls, but slowly Nicky lowers her weapon.

All this time, and finally this woman comes back to steal his twin from him. Nic just wants to shoot her. But with a simple clearing of her throat he lowers the weapon. Not that he flips the safety on. Better to shoot and apologize to her for it later than to get either of them hurt.

“Be quick,” Nicky orders the women, “because I just came off a wonderful job and if i don’t get a bubble bath soon, I’m going to have to start shooting things again.”

The redhead scoffs, and Ace grumbles something out under her breath in response. The stranger sighs and stands up, moving forward. She stops immediately when Nicky’s gun comes up. Nic’s proud of her in that moment.

“What do you want?” Nic demands.

“I’m not here for you,” the stranger says, only to be cut off by a gesture from Ace.

“Carolina, calm down. I told you, the twins are just that. A pair. You’re not going to convince her by agitating him, and vice versa.”

The fact that Ace has told this invader about them doesn’t comfort Nic, but at least the other woman seems to finally relax, shaking her head.

Nicky, on the other hand, has gone stiff.

“Carolina? As in that mercenary that started…”

“Exactly,” Carolina cuts her off, voice softer now. “My group is in a recruiting stage, and I heard tell of a pair of mercs here that had great promise. When I found out that Niner knew you as well, I asked for her opinion.”

“Told her I don’t know anyone who rides like you,” Ace pipes up, and Nic wants to know where the new name has come from. Though, really, aren’t all of them using aliases? What was the use of real names in the work Nic and Nicky did these days? “Or punches someone like you.”

“Duh,” Nicky agrees. “So, you’re recruiting and you asked Ace. That mean you’re here to beg us to join you?”

“I don’t beg,” the woman responds, and she’s got a steel in her voice that NIc is only used to hearing from his sister. It gives him pause. So does the fact that he still doesn’t know what the hell is going on here.

“I don’t see a reason we need some arrogant merc going around that hell-hole of Gulch, calling herself ‘Number One’ to advance our own careers,” Nicky says, and what she follows with is lost to Nic as he tries to process that.

Number One? The founder of the increasingly infamous Freelancers of Gulch, wants them? Came out here to recruit them? Doesn’t Nicky get how big this is? A stable team to support them when they’re injured, a steady supply of jobs, and a secure homebase are the major perks of mercenary teams, but the reputation increase of joining a group like the Freelancers is just…

“Yes,” he says, and the room around him goes quiet. When he looks up he can see how red Nicky’s face is, and he knows she was yelling just seconds ago. Or ranting. Okay, all he knows is that she’s angry and probably on some kind of tangent.

“Nic?” she asks, the name slipping from her, and she doesn’t even bother to look horrified. “You’re not seriously considering…”

“But I am,” he admits. “Think about what this could mean for us.”

Strength. Security. A chance to prove themselves. And above all else… they wouldn’t have to be alone anymore.

Neither of the invaders of their home speak as Nicky stares back at her twin, and when she nods, Nic sighs in relief.

“I guess we can do a trial period or something,” she says, and Nic lowers his gun at last. For the second these people aren’t a threat. Instead they are a hope-filled promise of something new. Something he’s longed for them to find. Stability. Trust. Family.

What more can he ask for, provided Nicky is still there at his side?