And if my day keeps going this way I just might break something tonight
For TehKittyKat, who requested: “Can I just have Yori punching someone? Lots of people deserve a punch from Yori!”
You get two for the price of one. Because I love you.
Not Without Incident
Dyson and his squad of Black Guards are regulars at the End of Line, and no-one likes them. If it were up to Eckert, he’d have the whole lot of them barred. Zuse, however, was always quick to remind him that Dyson was considered a VIP, and that the End of Line had just been recompiled a cycle ago after that terrible incident with the rogue System Monitor, and that he’d very much like to keep it that way. So Eckert minds his own business—the End of Line is nominally neutral ground, after all—and makes the occasional curled-lip sneer at Dyson behind his back.
The small woman with the short dark hair and loose belted jacket with the hood is also a regular, although a far less frequent one, these days. Usually she keeps to herself at the far end of the bar, and so rarely speaks to anyone at all that most patrons tend to forget that she’s there.
Tonight, however, is different.
“Do I know you?” Dyson asks, quirking an eyebrow as the woman approaches.
The woman smiles, a tight, icy little smile. ”Yes,” she replies. ”You do.”
The woman’s fist flashes out before the former Security lieutenant can mark her movement. It catches him square in the jaw, sending him head-over-heels backward over the table and into two of his men.
By the time that Dyson is able to right himself, Yori is gone.
I May Have Deserved That
“What the hell did you do to yourself??” Lora exclaims. ”You got blood all over my terminal!”
“I had the funkiesht dream,” Flynn answers drunkenly, holding the sleeve of his jacket over his his still-bleeding nose. ”An’ he was there, an’ you were there, and I kished you, and you punched me! Wight in da nobe.”
Alan snorts, and Lora rolls her eyes, grabbing Flynn by the forearm not engaged in trying to stem the nasal hemorrhaging (the printout proclaiming Dillinger’s perfidy is still clutched in his free hand) and dragging him to his feet. ”Come on, let’s get the hell out of here while we still can.”
“Todally worf it,” Flynn mumbles as they make for the elevator, and wonders why he’s surprised when Lora punches him in the back of the head.