Sorry About That

"Casa Caliente, that's supposed to be where Tommy Rojo runs the bookie operation," Faith said to her companion as the two leather-clad brunette Slayers parked their bikes and strutted across the busy South Beach street, ignoring the horn and whistles or mostly ignoring them anyway as Faith rarely missed an opportunity to taunt members of the opposite sex. "He's supposed to be a big-time connected player; sure you can handle this without your little girlfriend?" Faith liked to taunt everyone really...

"Eat me, Bitch, at least I have a girlfriend," Kennedy replied. "Isn't it about time for you to have another binge and breakdown, and disappear for awhile? If not can you move up your schedule a little? We'd all appreciate it..I know Wil and I would." She used just a bit too much force as she drove her knee up into one of the doormen's gut.

"You think?" Faith replied grabbing the other three hundred pound doorman, headbutting him, kicking him solidly between his legs and then launching him headfirst right through the side window of a nearby parked Limousine. "'Cause I think Red and I got along very well a few months ago......After you." She ended with a fake smile holding the glass door open for the other of Willow's two slayer lovers.

"Thank you," Kennedy replied with the same fake smile, walking through and pivoting directly into a leaping roundhouse kick to the head of one of the thugs running to the doormen's aid. "We were on a time-out when that happened and she told me that it didn't really do much for her anyway," she said, landing from the kick to grab one of the guys that Faith had spun in a circle to her and then she used that momentum to launch him twenty feet into the side wall with a loud crunching sound.

"Wow, ya know if I believed you..," Faith came back with as she sent another goon into Kennedy's arms. "That would be a blow to my ego. But seeing as how you're a lying skank, I'll just consider the source." Launching herself forward with a burst of dizzying speed she grabbed and broke the wrist of another tough guy that was trying to draw a pistol on Kennedy. "If anyone's going to kill her, it DAMN WELL WILL BE ME!" she roared as she broke that guy's arm and elbow struck him so hard that his girly screams ended instantly.

"Thanks," Kenn shot out quickly, before grabbing the last security doufass and holding him from behind.

"No prob," Faith said picking up an empty beer bottle from the bar and showing it to the restrained man. "See this, Either you or Tommy Rojo are going to get this rammed up someplace rather uncomfortable. Your choice, you gonna take one for the Boss?" she asked wiggling her eyebrows.

"He's hiding in the Counting Room in back, fake door right next to the walk-in freezer," he almost shouted as quickly as he could, never once doubting that she'd do it.

"Thanks, Baby," Kenn replied as she smashed his head into the wall knocking him out and adding to the carpentry bill that the club owners had already amassed in the last few moments.

The two ferocious women walked through the large crowd of club patrons, half of them tourists who were wondering if this was some sort of really cool floor show. Their new fans shadowed them as they went to the rear of the building.

Faith opened the fake door; Kennedy pushed her away just in time as a shotgun blast roared through the opening. The crowd cheered , earning matching glares from the slay-mates. Hearing the shooter swear as he fumbled trying to load more shells, the new live-action stars rushed in, Kenn wrenching the gun away from the lone guy in the room while Faith barreled into him sending both of them through a table scattering several stacks of cash with the impact. Kennedy waved to thank the audience for the applause, as she pulled the guy's wallet from his back pocket.

"We have a winner! Faith, meet Tommy Rojo, I think you two would be great together. Beautiful kids really." Eliciting a laugh from the crowd.

"Thanks for the push there, Kenny, as skanks go, you're my favorite one," she said smiling at her comrade. "Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, I had a bottle I wanted to show you..," she purred, sitting on his chest.

"This is better than 'Vegas!" Davey Jenkins told his wife Melanie as they held hands sitting at their table totally engrossed in the play unfolding before them.

Melanie whispered back, "I think I've seen that actress before, the one there reaching for that bottle. It was like a show about a morgue or some...OH MY GOD!!!!" she screamed....a lot of them screamed. But there was still an amazing standing ovation.

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Sam parked his girlfriend's Cadillac and was about to walk down onto the dock when he decided at the last moment to go get a hotdog from his friend Gus's stand. Chili onions and cheese were really the only way to enjoy the experience of a real American Legend; The Hot Dog. Sam mused ignoring Gus's grumbling about his lack of a tip.

Even distracted by his haute de cuisine, Sam had been in the game for far too many decades to not make the three chickies spread out around the dock observing his house boat. Now normally three young things would be the stuff of legends at the old cold war reunion parties he loved to attend, but as much fun as telling fish stories to his fellow spy alumni about these three kids would be, with all that was happening in the old town lately. That likely wasn't a great idea. Before hurrying away on foot, Sam took one more look back and thought that if he had to be taken down by someone, that little blond checking out his car could be his interrogator anytime.

Moving quickly down the alley between the scuba store and the Bikini Outlet on his way to the closest city bus stop, he pulled to a stop just as another youngster, a guy this time unfortunately, stepped out in front of him.

"Hey, pal, how's it hanging?" he asked extending his hand to shake and then driving that hand in a Chinese Cobra Strike towards the neck of the tall kid.

Having fought vampires and demons for a large part of his life, Xander was only impressed by the variety of attacks this bastard tried to use. The only strikes the guy managed to land were barely felt as he thought about his wife shot and bleeding and laying somewhere scared, waiting for her husband to find her. Unless she was....NO, STOP, he thought, actually stepping away from the old guy's improvised assault for a moment to collect himself and recalibrate his damn eye again. He hated this fake eye, he only got the operation because his DawnStar was so excited for him and proud that she had arranged the whole thing for his birthday. Kicking away the gun Sam tried to draw, he stepped in and got stabbed in the right thigh by the knife in Sam's other hand.

"You're really good kid," Sam said circling his foe as the other guy barely even grunted during that Cambodian knife fighting strike he had pulled out of his bag of tricks. Spitting blood and ignoring the likely broken ribs on his left side, Sam knew he had to finish this if he had any chance of winning. Drawing on everything he had left he decided it was time for the classic CIA Handshake, he swung high with the knife allowing the other guy to catch his arm while he dropped to his knees and delivered a massive uppercut to the dude's balls...or he would have had the stoic robot not predicted his move, meeting him with a brutal knee strike right into his face. Before Sam went to sleep he knew that for the rest of his life, no matter how short that might be, he would remember the look on that man's face.