She was going to leave. She totally planned on leaving. When he'd left, she was so freakin' set on leaving, too-- and ... it just didn't happen. Not like she got caught up in something incredibly exciting or anything, the guy didn't even have the robot hookers sequel for x-box. Like hell was she going to clean anything except the dishes, because seriously. He let her crash, she could at least do dishes. But that was it!
After about fifteen minutes of him not being there, she just happened to decide that she kind of wanted to see him again. And she was already in his apartment, soooooooo the next course of action was pretty obvious. Wait around. Kenzi had never waited around for a guy in her entire life! Okay, that is a lie. She waited around for the cute older boy that lived next door to come over and play when she was six but THAT was it.
And she had indeed promised not to steal anything, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to look around. Most of it was boring, regular guy stuff. The clip in the drawer wasn't anything out of the ordinary, most people had at least one gun lying around the house. However, most people didn't typically have MANY guns. Big guns. Hidden big guns under a fake floor panel that most other people wouldn't have found in a million years.
Clearly neither of them were most people.
So when he came home, she smiled sadly from her spot on the floor next to his stash of heavy weaponry. "Over here." And called him over. Genius! Brilliant plan.
It was a better plan than her holding one of the guns on him when he showed up, but Brian still paused halfway up the stairs and watched her for a silent moment sitting there.
She was sitting on his kitchen floor. That wasn't a fucking coincidence.
He took the rest of the stairs with a thin-lipped look and tossed his keys over onto the couch as he walked toward her. So now, one of two things were going to happen. They were going to be cool, or they weren't going to be cool. He was actually hoping it would be the first since the sex was great, but the second, well. If they had to go that route then they would. He leaned on the counter, boot toes about a foot from the pried-up panel and three feet from Kenzi, and crossed his arms over his chest. There was a small arsenal under his kitchen floor-- welcome home.
"So. I guess I should have locked you in the crate, huh? I thought you were house trained."
"If I wasn't house trained, I would have taken off my clothes and pissed on the floor as soon as you left." This was a much better option. Hey, she didn't even have her knife out. Give her some credit.
The smile was still there as she looked up at him, legs crossed and hands resting on her knees. It was small, slightly concerned, but still a smile.
"Just tell me you're not one of those guys that knocks athletic people out, throws them in a van, drives them up to some remote wildlife park, sets them loose, and hunts them. Because that would just make things really weird. Or you could just tell me you're Batman if it's one of those 'if I told you, I'd have to kill you' things."
Because she really likes not dying. Not being dead is probably one of her favourite pastimes.
Brian breathed out and shook his head, drawing a hand down over his mouth and staring at the guns. He guessed it could have been worse; she's here, joking about it and not gone, having called the police already. And wouldn't that have been a beautiful thing to come home to. For this kind of artillery? SWAT, sure. But as least not Street, at least not that asshole.
"I don't hunt anybody. I just pay the bills." He spread his arms as if to say hey, you didn't complain about the digs before dropping them back against his thighs and reaching for the panel she'd leaned against a cabinet. "But I really don't want to threaten you, Kenz, all right? You seem like a good girl, and you're a great fuck, so let's you and me figure out a way that this stays between us."
"Do you pay the bills by shooting at them?" Ha. She seems like a good girl. Oh, he's adorable. You know... for a dude with weapons in his kitchen.
She pushed herself up off the floor, just standing. Not running. It's not freaking her out so much as making her worry. About him. Which is stupid for so many reason. She raised an eyebrow, giving him a look that was more amused than anything. Really? Between them? Again with the adorable! "Who am I gonna tell? Seriously. I don't know anyone here besides idiot-cousin for one, and two, if I didn't call the cops for a kidnapping, I'm obvi not gonna call them on you."
That gave him pause-- just a moment of it-- before he dropped the edge of the panel down to the floor between his feet and this time he rubbed his whole face before looking at her. "I do not pay the bills by shooting at them. I do... other... things." Shit. And this was why he did not have girlfriends.
"You wanna know? Okay." The panel was set back against the cabinet and Brian hunkered down, grabbed a sleek but aggressive looking gun out of the floor rack. He pulled the clip out-- empty-- and racked the gun to show her the top chamber was empty as well. "This here is an M4A1. It's got a tack-on M68 Close Combat Optic up here and holds thirty rounds to the magazine. Everybody loves the A1 because there's none of that 3-burst shit that the A3's had. This here is single fire and fully auto. I can strip this gun to its parts blindfolded in 24 seconds and reassemble it in 26.5." He handed the gun up, holding it out to Kenzi.
"I used to be SWAT." Maybe she would just assume he was still professional.
Other things? Kenzi could only speculate on what those other things could be.
... And then it was suddenly sharing time. She watched him closely, taking in everything he said and only understanding the majority of it from playing Call of Duty. It was impressive. Most things involving Brian Gamble were impressive, but this was something else.
Was he seriously handing her a-- okay, then. She took it from him carefully, like it was made of eggshells, on the verge of exploding, or possibly radioactive. "Used to be?" As in wasn't anymore. As in other things. "Soooo... you're a mercenary?" She asked, holding the gun almost-properly and aiming it at the couch experimentally.
Brian glanced at her looking absolutely ridiculous with a gun almost as large as she was and then at the ceiling. "... something like that. I quit the Force a few months back." Totally voluntary; fuck Fuller and fuck the Cage. "But it's what I'm good and and it's where the money is." He shook his head and fell back to sit fully, wrapping his arms loosely around his raised knees. "I'm not gonna go flip burgers now. Would you?"
It was hypothetical... mostly. He still wouldn't mind hearing her agree. He'd gone out of high school and into Service, for fuck'sake. He didn't know how to do anything else. And he was good at this stuff.
There was no way in hell she could actually picture herself shooting one of these things. She'd held a handgun ONCE and that was because of a dare when she was a teenager. Knives, tasers, baseball bats; that's what she could handle. She'd had her eye one a wicked-awesome ninja sword in a pawn shop back home, but when the hell would she ever use something like that?
She smirked, sitting back down and holding the gun in her lap. She might have also scooted a big closer under the pretense of getting comfy on the floor, but that could just be his imagination.
"I told you how I feel about work. If you just happen to do this shit so flawlessly that it doesn't feel like work? Do it. I'd rather con people out of their money for a living instead of flipping burgers-- oh wait, I freakin' do." Not like she had much room to talk. Or any room, actually.
"Made a decision that got voted the wrong call. There was a bank robbery in June, guys with automatic weapons and I--" Brian shrugged, his teeth set together. Even after three months thinking about it made him mad enough to spit nails. "Whatever. You know? Boss said I jumped the gun and nothing matters but his call. Tried to bust me back and I walked instead."
He put his forehead down on his knee for a moment. SWAT had been his whole fucking life. With a sigh he straightened and reached for the gun in her lap. "Dead subject." He paused with his hand on the stock, looking at Kenzi. Rather con people out of their money for a living instead flipping burgers. His mind switched tracks.
Definitely not arguing the deadness of that subject. The look on his face coupled with that sigh would have been enough for her to drop it. The past is the past. Kenzi tended not to dwell on that kind of shit. She was also a firm believer of giving people a chance based on current actions and not what went down months ago. Or years ago. Besides, authority is bitches. Bosses are almost always shitty. They think they know everything, condescending pieces of shit.
Shaking her head, she shrugged her shoulders and looked down at the floor. "Not unless water guns count. I'm deadly with a super soaker."
He laughed. It was the first positive sound that had made it past his lips since walking in the door. "Sorry, doesn't count." He pulled the gun from her lap and settled it back into the cage. "Trajectory with water is totally different." Leaning over, he finally grabbed the panel and slid it back into place. It was so nicely flush-- he looked up at Kenzi again.
"How the hell did you find this anyway? Come on, look at it. It's good." Brian laughed again. "It's really good. How'd you do it?"
"Are you an expert in water guns, too? There has to be something you suck at. I'm gonna figure it out, I swear." Which means hanging around him more, but maybe he won't catch that part.
It IS good if you're just looking at it, she'll admit that. Hell, he can even have really good. IF you're just looking at it. Kenzi just rolled her eyes, fighting a losing battle against a bright smile. "Oldest trick in the book, Bri. Anyone spends enough time in here and has a thing for black and white mystery movies would have figured it out."
Reaching over him, she pulled out a drawer and grabbed a spoon. She tapped it twice over the actual floor and then twice more over the panel. The difference in sound is noticeable.
"Figured that one out when I was doing the dishes. You're welcome, by the way."
"I was..." joking. About the water, but he didn't say anything as Kenzi went on because, all right, that was sort of an ego-stroke and he wouldn't turn it down. Now right now.
"So black and white mysteries. You're saying that you found this because you have a crush on Dial M for Murder?" He took the spoon from her and looked at it for a moment before hauling himself to his feet and walking over to the sink to drop it in. "So first order of business is getting that panel padded or something. Next order of business is teaching you how to shoot. Wait. Reverse that."
The way she was looking at him probably only added to the ego boost. Ex-cop. Ex-SWAT at that. Morals about the important shit, okay with everything else. Totally gorgeous. Hadn't even kicked her out yet. Damn, Gamble, forget the Hitchcock movies, she was crushing on you.
"Nah. More Sherlock Holmes stuff and anything Agatha Christie. There's only so many zombie movies out there, a girl's gotta branch out, and that shit is hilarious after half a bottle of tequila."
She nodded to the first order of business and just went totally wide-eyed at the second. "What?! SERIOUSLY?!" She reaches out to grab onto his arm so he can pull her up and once she's standing, she looks like a kid on Christmas. "Do not even be kidding right now because that would be amazing and about seven kinds of hot."
"Thought Russians stuck to vodka." He helped haul her to her feet but pointed a finger at her face.
"First of all, I'm gonna take it back if you don't calm down because I do not need you to be jumping around like that when I give you a loaded gun." But he shrugged... and then his face slid into a sharp grin. Guns were kinda hot. "But listen, this is only because I have an idea and because you handled yourself well in the bar." While he was getting his kidneys punched. "There's a... thing. In four days. And I'm a man short."
Honestly, Brian would rather not use a chick. But he likes the idea of hiring a stranger even less than he likes the thought of a pair of tits with high-powered weaponry, so. Kenzi it is.
After about fifteen minutes of him not being there, she just happened to decide that she kind of wanted to see him again. And she was already in his apartment, soooooooo the next course of action was pretty obvious. Wait around. Kenzi had never waited around for a guy in her entire life! Okay, that is a lie. She waited around for the cute older boy that lived next door to come over and play when she was six but THAT was it.
And she had indeed promised not to steal anything, but that didn't mean she wasn't going to look around. Most of it was boring, regular guy stuff. The clip in the drawer wasn't anything out of the ordinary, most people had at least one gun lying around the house. However, most people didn't typically have MANY guns. Big guns. Hidden big guns under a fake floor panel that most other people wouldn't have found in a million years.
Clearly neither of them were most people.
So when he came home, she smiled sadly from her spot on the floor next to his stash of heavy weaponry. "Over here." And called him over. Genius! Brilliant plan.
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She was sitting on his kitchen floor. That wasn't a fucking coincidence.
He took the rest of the stairs with a thin-lipped look and tossed his keys over onto the couch as he walked toward her. So now, one of two things were going to happen. They were going to be cool, or they weren't going to be cool. He was actually hoping it would be the first since the sex was great, but the second, well. If they had to go that route then they would. He leaned on the counter, boot toes about a foot from the pried-up panel and three feet from Kenzi, and crossed his arms over his chest. There was a small arsenal under his kitchen floor-- welcome home.
"So. I guess I should have locked you in the crate, huh? I thought you were house trained."
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The smile was still there as she looked up at him, legs crossed and hands resting on her knees. It was small, slightly concerned, but still a smile.
"Just tell me you're not one of those guys that knocks athletic people out, throws them in a van, drives them up to some remote wildlife park, sets them loose, and hunts them. Because that would just make things really weird. Or you could just tell me you're Batman if it's one of those 'if I told you, I'd have to kill you' things."
Because she really likes not dying. Not being dead is probably one of her favourite pastimes.
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Brian breathed out and shook his head, drawing a hand down over his mouth and staring at the guns. He guessed it could have been worse; she's here, joking about it and not gone, having called the police already. And wouldn't that have been a beautiful thing to come home to. For this kind of artillery? SWAT, sure. But as least not Street, at least not that asshole.
"I don't hunt anybody. I just pay the bills." He spread his arms as if to say hey, you didn't complain about the digs before dropping them back against his thighs and reaching for the panel she'd leaned against a cabinet. "But I really don't want to threaten you, Kenz, all right? You seem like a good girl, and you're a great fuck, so let's you and me figure out a way that this stays between us."
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She pushed herself up off the floor, just standing. Not running. It's not freaking her out so much as making her worry. About him. Which is stupid for so many reason. She raised an eyebrow, giving him a look that was more amused than anything. Really? Between them? Again with the adorable! "Who am I gonna tell? Seriously. I don't know anyone here besides idiot-cousin for one, and two, if I didn't call the cops for a kidnapping, I'm obvi not gonna call them on you."
Duh.
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"You wanna know? Okay." The panel was set back against the cabinet and Brian hunkered down, grabbed a sleek but aggressive looking gun out of the floor rack. He pulled the clip out-- empty-- and racked the gun to show her the top chamber was empty as well. "This here is an M4A1. It's got a tack-on M68 Close Combat Optic up here and holds thirty rounds to the magazine. Everybody loves the A1 because there's none of that 3-burst shit that the A3's had. This here is single fire and fully auto. I can strip this gun to its parts blindfolded in 24 seconds and reassemble it in 26.5." He handed the gun up, holding it out to Kenzi.
"I used to be SWAT." Maybe she would just assume he was still professional.
Ha.
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... And then it was suddenly sharing time. She watched him closely, taking in everything he said and only understanding the majority of it from playing Call of Duty. It was impressive. Most things involving Brian Gamble were impressive, but this was something else.
Was he seriously handing her a-- okay, then. She took it from him carefully, like it was made of eggshells, on the verge of exploding, or possibly radioactive. "Used to be?" As in wasn't anymore. As in other things. "Soooo... you're a mercenary?" She asked, holding the gun almost-properly and aiming it at the couch experimentally.
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It was hypothetical... mostly. He still wouldn't mind hearing her agree. He'd gone out of high school and into Service, for fuck'sake. He didn't know how to do anything else. And he was good at this stuff.
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She smirked, sitting back down and holding the gun in her lap. She might have also scooted a big closer under the pretense of getting comfy on the floor, but that could just be his imagination.
"I told you how I feel about work. If you just happen to do this shit so flawlessly that it doesn't feel like work? Do it. I'd rather con people out of their money for a living instead of flipping burgers-- oh wait, I freakin' do." Not like she had much room to talk. Or any room, actually.
"So why'd you quit?"
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He put his forehead down on his knee for a moment. SWAT had been his whole fucking life. With a sigh he straightened and reached for the gun in her lap. "Dead subject." He paused with his hand on the stock, looking at Kenzi. Rather con people out of their money for a living instead flipping burgers. His mind switched tracks.
"You-- ever shot a gun before?"
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Shaking her head, she shrugged her shoulders and looked down at the floor. "Not unless water guns count. I'm deadly with a super soaker."
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"How the hell did you find this anyway? Come on, look at it. It's good." Brian laughed again. "It's really good. How'd you do it?"
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It IS good if you're just looking at it, she'll admit that. Hell, he can even have really good. IF you're just looking at it. Kenzi just rolled her eyes, fighting a losing battle against a bright smile. "Oldest trick in the book, Bri. Anyone spends enough time in here and has a thing for black and white mystery movies would have figured it out."
Reaching over him, she pulled out a drawer and grabbed a spoon. She tapped it twice over the actual floor and then twice more over the panel. The difference in sound is noticeable.
"Figured that one out when I was doing the dishes. You're welcome, by the way."
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"So black and white mysteries. You're saying that you found this because you have a crush on Dial M for Murder?" He took the spoon from her and looked at it for a moment before hauling himself to his feet and walking over to the sink to drop it in. "So first order of business is getting that panel padded or something. Next order of business is teaching you how to shoot. Wait. Reverse that."
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"Nah. More Sherlock Holmes stuff and anything Agatha Christie. There's only so many zombie movies out there, a girl's gotta branch out, and that shit is hilarious after half a bottle of tequila."
She nodded to the first order of business and just went totally wide-eyed at the second. "What?! SERIOUSLY?!" She reaches out to grab onto his arm so he can pull her up and once she's standing, she looks like a kid on Christmas. "Do not even be kidding right now because that would be amazing and about seven kinds of hot."
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"First of all, I'm gonna take it back if you don't calm down because I do not need you to be jumping around like that when I give you a loaded gun." But he shrugged... and then his face slid into a sharp grin. Guns were kinda hot. "But listen, this is only because I have an idea and because you handled yourself well in the bar." While he was getting his kidneys punched. "There's a... thing. In four days. And I'm a man short."
Honestly, Brian would rather not use a chick. But he likes the idea of hiring a stranger even less than he likes the thought of a pair of tits with high-powered weaponry, so. Kenzi it is.
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