𝗨𝗦𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗔𝗥𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦 | the boys 1

v. 𝐀 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘 𝐕𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐍

~𝙊𝙣𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝙄'𝙡𝙡 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙡, 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛, 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙙𝙤, 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙝𝙪𝙧𝙩𝙨~

The van was humid and sweaty - what else could she expect, sat with two broad, older men, heatedly discussing why Lamplighter was on the side of their vehicle.

"A rental, you cheap bastard?" M.M. judged.

"Who do you think I am, some double-o wanker?" He glanced curiously at the girl sat in the middle of the floor who was rubbing the dried blood from her cuticles which she hadn't managed to wash off earlier,"In case you haven't noticed we ain't exactly rollin' in it."

"You don't think this is... conspicuous?" He gestured to the wires sticking from the side of the van.  

"Conspicuous? No, I think I black van with fucking flowers on the side is conspicuous. This, is just another truck on the street." He smiled proudly.

"More or less conspicuous than a grotty, old van with a fucking supe on the side?" She scoffed, on cue to a bang on the van door rattling through her head and forcing the impulse to stand at the speed of light and her eyes to fling from to side to side like a wild animal. 

"Oi, just the lads, Kiddo." Butcher warned,"Bang on time." He opened the door for Hughie and Frenchie to step in - M.M. and Frenchie took one look at each other before they pounced into action, ready to fight. Their voices only grew louder as Frenchie pulled out a rusty knife and his opponent clenched his hand into a fist. 

"Butcher, who's this guy?!" Hughie more or less screamed, trying to be heard over everyone else's yells.

"Stop it! You'll give the game away!" He barely managed to keep them pushed apart.

"Not until this frog gets what's coming!" M.M. winced as Rowan pulled the same chiv from her soft, pink sweater pocket and held it against his neck, immediately taking Frenchie's side of the argument despite her having used the same weapon on him not too long ago. He was too tall for her to properly take him at knife point, so she hung from his shoulders and squeezed his ribs with her knees in a complete python position.

"The only thing that is coming is me on your mothers titties! Enfant, lay waste!" 

"We had an agreement about him!"

"We agreed to put a pin in it, alright? Kid, you better not try anything mucky or we're gonna' have some serious fucking problems!"

"What agreement?" Frenchie growled.

"There was no pin, I don't trust this French whore!"

"I am more American than you, you racist piece of shit!"

"Why are they fighting?!" Hughie was still being crushed between M.M., Rowan and the inside of the van wall.

"Nothing, it is water under the bridge." Butcher replied loudly, telling the three that fought more than he was answering Hughie's question.
  
"You tell that to Mallory's grand kids. Tell them it's water under the bridge." M.M. croaked, silencing the van. There was that name again - Mallory. She had heard it mentioned a few times now.

"That wasn't my fault, huh?" Frenchie froze, still holding a rusty knife out towards the guy who must've been almost double his size.

"Who is Mallory?!" Hughie yelled, asking what Rowan was thinking once they had exchanged a rather clueless glance of curiosity while she wrapped her arms around M.M.'s neck.
  
"ALRIGHT, ALL OF YOU - KNOCK IT ON THE HEAD, NOW!" Butcher yelled so loud it hurt her ears, it was the first time she'd heard him properly shout and she was... intimidated, in the way she felt when Marvin towered over her. None of them gave up, they remained the equivalent of a 'Still Life' until she heard a strange sound coming from M.M.'s pocket. 'Never Gonna' Give You Up' by Rick Astley played as his ringtone when he took out his cellphone and shouted,