DISCLAIMER: Fastlane is the property of Fox and Jerry Bruckheimer, not that they seemed to care. No infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written as part of the 31 Aspects meme. Prompt from Debbie.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author
"Van, put the gun down!" Billie demanded, her eyes hard and promising untold pain.
A moment passed, then two, and still Van refused to lower his weapon.
"I'm warning you."
Billie stepped in front of Sara, whose quivering body lay slumped against the side of the building; her side was a mess of congealing liquid, marking the spot where Van's last shot had found a home.
Deaq grunted in discomfort as Billie tightened her grip on his hair, her gun digging into the tender flesh at the base of his skull. "You even look at her again and your boy is history."
"Shut up, man." Van's eyes flicked from Billie, to Deaq, to Sara, his hand trembling with indecision. He could see the sweat on Deaq's brow and it comforted him to know he wasn't the only one unnerved by Billie's cold fury. She was a woman possessed.
"Put your weapon down."
His hesitation was his undoing. As Van's eyes pleaded with Deaq's, Billie saw her chance and took a shot. The sound was deafening. The front of Van's shirt was destroyed, the thick liquid oozing into every crevice and seam.
"Shit!" Van wiped at his chest, his fingers coated with the blue paint and a pained expression on his face. "These things hurt."
Billie ignored him. "Do I pull the trigger or do you admit defeat?" she asked Deaq.
"Give up," Van advised him. "This stuff really stings."
"Whatever, man." He shrugged.
With a smile, Billie holstered her paint gun and turned to give Sara a lift to her feet, her thankful smile adding a little extra something to Van's defeat.
She'd harangued the boys over their juvenile past time for hours before they'd decided to play rough and trick Sara into a game. She'd been furious at the time, despite the blonde's assurances that it would be fun, but now she was rather glad she'd joined in.
"Losers buy the beers."
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