Pieces

Pieces
An Enemies with Benefits fiction by Setsuna-Jikan

"Get up." He hummed an old song to himself. "Didja hear me? I said get. Up!"

Harsh kick, ribs groaning. Green eyes narrowed, glaring at the guard with enough malice to freeze blood. Sinuously, by no means inhibited by the months--years--of poor food, the prisoner stood up and strolled over, backing the guard step by step until he was pressed flush against the cold iron bars. An arm over his head; the bastard was fucking taller than him! From under days of scruff and grime, the prisoner's lips twisted into a smile.

"There..." he said lowly. "I'm up." Baring his teeth, the prisoner grinned before slowly stepping away, taking the five steps needed to stand against the far wall.

Ice blue eyes glared at him. She was watching him closely, stitching up a long gash on his arm.

"You have got to start paying better attention to your surroundings, jackass," she chided, voice rough from lack of water, left over anger, and the weary fear that sustained them all. He arched an eye brow, tilting his head to the side. The beads in his hair clacked soothingly.

"I killed 'em, didn't I? Even 'The Great Shingaisha' had nothing to complain about, so stop worrying so much." She shook her head from side to side, blonde hair cut the same as his clattering with the movement.

"Arrogant--"

"--prick!"

The guard took out his fear and anger on the prisoner. A swift swing from his club; the prisoner stumbled, blood trickling down from the fresh wound on his head. A tongue swiped out to lap at it. It tasted like hers.

Cursing, they ran through the battle zone, dodging a weaving in some sort of sick twisted dance. Bullets shattered the concrete not inches from their bodies. She shoved him, body jerking as red mist exploded from her. Her eyes met his; her blood was in his eyes, his mouth.

She smirked at him.

He smirked back. They grabbed him, dragging him off.

"Stop smiling you creepy rebel bastard." The guard punctuated his growing disease with another harsh blow to the prisoner's face. "Get moving." The prisoner shrugged and followed, hands in his pockets, humming again.

"Vincent, I swear to fucking god if you don't stop humming that goddamn song I am going to knock your goddamn head off!" Red eyes sparkled at him mischievously; an arm snaked around his waist, pulling him abruptly onto the couch.

"Oh really?" was breathed into his ear; a pleasant shudder rolled down his back. "Well then, I sug--" a lick "--gest that you fi--" another "--ind some sort of way--" a nip "--to shut me up." The tongue swirled all around his ear.

"Oh--hah--really? Why should I? It's just empty--ggghhnn--" his hand clenched tightly on the one that was wandering into his pants. "Shit! Space." A grin.

"You little jerk," was whispered lovingly, eyes sparking.

Goddamn it he missed the bastard.

"This way." The prisoner turned left lazily, still humming. If he was right...

The guard fell, his head a misshapen mass of flesh and bone and blood. The prisoner made a slight face and his brushed a clump of grey matter off his arm.

"Took you." A hand smacked him upside the head.

"Moron! You are a bloody moron!" The prisoner smiled.

"It's good to see you again, too, Shingaisha," he said respectfully, bowing deeply. Blue eyes glowered at him; he just kept smiling.

"Come on, lets get out of here," she muttered, turning around shouting out orders.

"Package acquired! Let's fucking get out of here folks!" A brown haired man step out of the small crowd to stand beside her, slinging an arm around her waist.

"C'mere."

She turned into him with a sigh.

"Egan..."

She lay next to him, half asleep as they watched some movie or other. Vincent was out getting more smokes; he wanted the bastard back. He felt antsy.

"Alec?"

"Hmm?" She rolled over, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"I'm sorry."

Alec opened his eyes, looking up into tired ice-blue ones. He asked the same question he had all those years ago.

"Why?" Except "I don't blame you."

She rested her head on his chest, tears dripping.

"I'm sorry."

Vincent jerked upright, listening to the whispers running through the house. He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, hoping it would clear the grime from his brain.

"Fell asleep in my suit again. Fuck." His voice was loud and lonely in the house. He watched the patch of moonlight morph with ever gust of wind, arms limply braced on knees, tired.

Alec hummed, holding Sets close. He frowned when he realized he had that damn tune stuck in his head.

"Damnit Vincent."

Vincent tilted his head back, cigarette picariously wobbling between his lips, half-heartedly singing a song he had forgotten the words to decades ago.

He covered his face with his hands.

"Damnit, Alec."

---{{{}}}---

AN: Crazy, woot! In CW, we had to choose one of three prompts; I chose the one about writing in clumps. This was the result. Slightly spoilerific, but hey--what'dya gonna do, eh?

Takes place way, waaaay after EwB. I own all the characters.

Dali was fucking nuts.

Cheat sheet can be found here: http://www.geocities.com/piratelemurs/Pieces.html

Sets, out.
::end transmission::