"I would never," Nico teased. Her wide eyes blinked up at him with a glassy, somewhat befuddled look. She clearly understood that he was joking. But something hollow at the back of her gaze didn't seem to grasp what he actually meant by it. 
Was it the gun-pointing? She'd never aim a loaded weapon at him. Not ever. 

Nico's head tilted in avian contemplation as she blinked... and then blinked again, wrinkling her nose at the rubbery gaskets. 
"Uh... why don't you hand me something to wrap up with?"

Quietly, she sat down at his desk - without asking - and began to quickly weave the soft material through the lower arch of the holes and around the palm grip. Both tightening the fit and cushioning the handle. All the while, her little dark head shook and shook at how complicated he'd made a simple adjustment. Wrap the BASE, silly boy, not the hands. 

Trying them back on, she gave the buffered grip a tight squeeze. A self-satisfied nod followed shortly. That would do. 

"Those aren't bad for straight contact," she commented on his spiky preference with a shrug, "But I know better than to try and hit a man head-on. Not enough reach or force. But a swing punch with good rotation will do the job every time if I have the right tools in my hand. ... damage is damage, even if it's blocked." 

Smirking, she wriggled her little fingers at him through the knuckle rings, the cold brass sitting just between her first and second knuckles in true street fashion. Then, she slipped them off and tucked them away in her skirt pockets with a wink that - like the pistol - said "Mine now". 

Back o business, she fiddled with the entirely too large jacket holster for a few moments before giving up and rigging it to fit like a crossbody bag. Not exactly 'right', but definitely functional. And, beneath her wide-hemmed swing coat, barely noticeable. 

Almost fully loaded, she paused by the door and audibly giggled. The notable 'shink' of Frankie's ancient collapsible baton sending familiar waves through the shop. "Oo-hoo-hhoo-hooo," Nico wiggled gleefully, closing it again and slipping it into her coat pocket. "YOINK," she cooed, heels now echoing with cold determination as she headed back to the car... several pounds heavier and definitely more dangerous. 

Ces shook his head as the brunette bombshell walked toward the car with a "YOINK"...

Whispering to himself where NO ONE would ever hear him, he chuckled out a, "Dis bitch..." and smiled wide at the amazing new friend of his. She was gonna make this a night to remember. Had he done the right thing in making her come with him? He paused and stopped to consider - but she was an adult. She was a smart gal. She was completely capable of making her own choices - he was just providing her with the means if she so chose. Nodding, he slipped on his shoulder harness of two 1911s, double checked the .357 magnum in his belt holster, tapped the knuckles in his pocket, and nodded again as the list was completed. "Alright then, Flaco," Cesare grinned as he grabbed his bat and threw it over his shoulder, strutting out of the office as his hand flicked the lights off.

"Let's play ball, ya nosey, no-good, lil' fuck..."

Reaching the car, the bat was tossed in the back seat, and he nodded to Nico. "You ready, darlin'? 'Cause if you ain't, you oughtta stay here's an' wait for me. This ain't gonna be pretty like yous... It's gonna be ugly like me."

The car was started, but he waited for an answer before ever putting it in reverse to pull out of Honest Pawn's parking lot...

Nico paused and shot Ces the sternest look he'd likely received since before his mother was killed. Her dark eyes narrowed almost accusingly as she cupped his chin and gently dragged his face round to meet her gaze. Her manicured nails bit ever so softly whilst her thumb stroked across his cheek in a way that - while affectionate - somehow felt very much like a threat. 

Women were skilled like that. 

"Cesare Torretino," she full named him as much as she was able, making a mental note to sus out his middle name eventually -- for full effect. "Don't ever speak poorly of yourself in my presence again. You ought to have gathered by now that I only surround myself by beautiful and valuable things -- speaking of my partner for life as if he is somehow the exception to that rule is a deeply personal insult to my honour. Understood?" 

Smirking, she pat his chin gently and then gave a little 'go ahead' wave toward the main street.
Was she ready? No. Not at all. 
No one was ever ready for their first kill. And her charcoal eyes darkened with that knowingness as she stared silently out at the city as it blurred by. There was a weight to her gaze... and on her shoulders... as she ran contingencies and 'what ifs' around in her mind like a merry-go-round broken down.

It was like an audit, she told herself. 
When an investment caused more loss than gain, you cut it loose.
In This Thing of Theirs, people and outfits were no different. Just investments. Nothing more.  
And Flaco's crew was obviously doing more hurt than help -- both to the people of Rodeo and to Business itself. 
People don't buy-in on outfits that fail to deliver... or bleed them dry. A city with lifeblood was better for everyone. More for them, more for us.
Loyalty in the streets was a precious currency. One that these blockheads unrepentantly squandered - like everything else they touched. 
Good business. Yep. Shutting Flaco down was just good business. That's all there was to it. 
The city needed more return on investment. More positive proof of concept. 
Otherwise, the whole enterprise would come toppling right down on top of them all.
The squeakiest wheel always gets silenced. Sometimes with oil, sure. But blood works just as well in the grand scheme of things. 
It's. Just. Good. Business. 

He tilted his head as she made her choice, giving her a nod. "Very well, m'lady. Your chariot awaits no more." And they pulled out, the city blurring by as they headed for Rodeo Boulevard.

Parking at Barty's, Ces noted the lights still on and Barty working on a suit. One of his, to be exact. There was a smile that overtook him, but he wouldn't let that distract him from their business here. Not tonight. Second store on the right and straight on till Mourning Street - That would take them to Flaco's tucked-away little safehouse. Unfortunately for Flaco - both Nico and Ces knew this.

Approaching the door, there was some debate in Cesare's head - stealth, or absolute, brutal chaos? Choosing the latter, he yelled out, "Hey Flaaaaco! Come out and play-ay!" As he did so, he dropped the meat of his bat onto the ground, dragging it across the rough concrete of the alley, as well as some of the broken glass littering the floor, making a bit of a menacing, threatening sound.

It didn't take but a moment, and the iron door's view-slide popped open... But Ces had already grabbed Nico and pulled her up alongside the wall by the hinges of the door, where they couldn't be seen, toying with Flaco and his crew. Now the question was, would they open the door?

And sure as shit, after a moment, and some yelling with Ces placing a finger over his lips to warn Nico to wait for it... The door slowly opened and two guys poked their heads out, slowly going to move around the door...

"Boo," was all the two heard before there was a sickening squelch as that meaty part of the bat slammed into the first man's face - the second barely getting a chance as Nico swooped in ---

Crimson nails clenched around the man's tie as Nico ducked under the bat. Gripping tight, she flowed against his recoil in a single fluid motion that cinched his shout as cleanly as a choke collar, and - simultaneously - jerked him forward into a well-placed swing punch. The momentum drove him backward, eyes bulging for air, cheek newly bleeding from the serrated rings that adorned her knuckles. But Nico offered no reprieve. A roll of her hand wrapped the tie in place around her fist, and - smiling like a child at a carnival - she landed another blow... and another... and another; using the poor man's face like a paddleball. 

Relentless, she dropped the man's unconscious body to the floor with a wet, heavy 'thud'. Eyes glassy with adrenaline, she glanced down at the now-bloodied back of her hand and... giggled. The briefest pause given before she stooped to relieve the man of his weapons. Stripping his holster loose, she tossed it over her shoulder and handed anything too large off to Ces with a wink. A questioning perk of her brow offered as she gestured silently down the hall. Who was going where??

Ces nodded in approval at Nico's brutal beatdown of the second guard. Something about that made him -veeeery- happy. Holding up two fingers, he looked at Nico and waved down the hallway to where there was a split - pointing to her, he motioned left, and for him, right. Then whispering, he confirmed, "You check left, I'll check right. Then we'll pick a direction and commit. Better we's don't split up if we can help it."

Turning, he headed down the hallway and crept up on the T, waiting for her so they could both check their respective directions at the same time. Once ready, he peeked, assuming she was doing the same.

Poking his head just barely around the corner, he spied three shadows moving around the next corner, light murmuring filling the corridor. Rolling back to his position against the wall, Cesare looked at Nico again and held up three fingers, thumbing in his direction. He then tilted his head with a shrug, pointing in her direction = his eyes darting toward the hall silently asking what she'd gathered.

Nico shook her head and quietly slid to his side of the hall. Strapping an arm across his chest, she pressed him to the wall and a finger to her lips. Eyes closed for a moment, she listened intently to the muffled echo of hustling footsteps. Then gently, she patted the air in his direction - not unlike signaling a puppy - indicating that he should 'stay'.  

Slipping her stockinged feet out of her loud heels, Nico tiptoed quietly back toward the entrance and slowly unscrewed the hallway lightbulb. Her muffled steps made soft whispers in the dark as she returned to Ces' side and once again pressed him firmly to the wall before she slipped the heavy brass from her fingers and tossed it down the opposite corridor with a loud clatter. Holding her breath as she waited for the inevitable, reactionary clamor...

"Fuck was that?" the first voice yelled as heads poked around the corner. "Fuckin' light's again?" another voice. "Where's Johnny an' Carey?" a third... "Prolly jackin' 'round like usual," the second laughed out. "Shut up an' c'mon ya dickheads," the first voice shuffled and corralled them down the hallway toward the awaiting trap...

"Where's that damn lighter'a yours, Tony?" the second voice called as he stepped into the corridor of the T, right next to the two enemies - and kept wandering toward the sound...

Cesare's eyes were closed, listening for the heavy footsteps of the three men to pass - left hand dipping into his pocket to wrap fingers through one of his knuckle-dusters in preparation to swing on the third man and follow through on the second. Still, he waited for Nico's signal to send him into motion...

A single tap from the small-framed brunette, and Ces' bat made swift contact with a dark silhouette. The resounding thud from the bat and the thud of a body hitting the ground made the other two men jump and turn. Cesare was already on the second one as well, left hand connecting across the lower jaw and into the soft flesh there as the spikes dug in. He missed the jugular, but the man spun halfway and ran his face into the wall before them - disoriented. Nico would have to handle the first man who had walked by as Cesare focused on silencing the middle fella...

Slipping behind the man, Cesare brought the bat around the other's neck, wrapping his own elbow around the meat of the wooden weapon and squeezing back toward him, while using his palm on the back of the man's head to apply pressure to his throat. This one was a struggle as the fairly large gent fought back, elbowing Cesare a few times and even running them backward into the other wall. Grunts and complaints were wrestled from Ces' gut, but he didn't let go until the man finally stopped struggling...

Once those two were down,he looked toward where Nico should be to check on her, a quiet, "You good?" was all he offered.

Where Ces was athletic and lanky, Nico was small and fast. She didn't have the force or strength of her opponents. She knew that... and used it to her advantage. In a whisper, she crouched, darting around and through the commotion of Ces' assault, and slipped behind the first guard just as he spun into the fray and confusion. Like a jack-in-the-box, her dark head popped up, barely visible over the man's shoulder as the thin belt of her coat lassoed around his neck. Great minds, it seemed. 

One nearly-bare foot planted into the middle of his back as she wrapped the spare length around her palms for leverage and then hopped up to a wickedly inescapable piggyback. The man flailed, but it was no use. Nico used the makeshift garrote like reins. Her legs circled the man's waist, and her heels dug into the meat of his thighs until she nearly stood. Pulling UP as well as back. A tiny jockey on a soon-to-be broken mustang. 

Eyes wide and cheeks pink, her dark curls tossed and thrashed about her face as she held on for dear life... or was it death? Raw and unrefined, there was no grace to her dismount as she man crumpled beneath her. Her feet plopped to the floor without warning. Sliding, knock-kneed, beneath her like an unsteady fawn as her hosiery slipped along the smooth tile. 

For a moment, she stared down at the unbreathing behemoth at her feet. 
It was harder than she thought. Took longer than she'd anticipated. 
And she felt all of it. ... every shaking breath as they slowed and struggled and stopped had moved through her body with an intimacy she'd never known or expected. 

A sound down the hall snapped her to attention, her gaze on high alert for a moment before she realized its source. 
Ces looked concerned. His gaze awaiting an affirmative answer. 
It had to be affirmative. 
Slowly, she blinked. Eyes still wild. 
Was she good? Good was a strange thing to be right now. 
She should probably be literally anything other than good. ... shouldn't she?
She looked down again.

It was easier than she thought.
They hadn't even fired any shots yet. 
Five down, no bullets. Hardly any noise or commotion.
That was good, right? Or at least... they seemed good at it... together. ... kind of.
Slowly, she just... nodded. 
Sure. All good. 

Cesare nodded back quietly, then leaned forward to rest his hands on his knees for a moment to catch his breath. His eyes focused on the end of the hall where the light was coming from, making sure they didn't have anyone come running with their scuffle. So far, it was quiet.

After a few seconds of heavy breathing, Ces stood straight and stretched, looking back to Nico again and holding out a hand - just barely able to make out her dark silhouette against the lightless depths of the hall stretching behind her. "C'mon, we still got a few more jackasses 'fore we's get ta Flaco's door," he whispered out.

He watched her, waited for her, making sure she was still in this for the long night it was about to be - for the vengeance they would rain down upon Flaco's useless and outdated outfit, and for the justice they'd reap on Luca's name.

Nico stooped to search for her knuckles amidst the human wreckage before quietly reaching for his outstretched hand. Her shoes were still near the entrance. Probably better that way. Less noise. At least, she thought. However, the slick texture of the tile made it easy to doubt that decision. He couldn't see it in the dim half-light, but her fingers shook in his grasp. A hot rash torn across her otherwise cold hands, where the fabric had bitten tight in their struggle. 

That was going to hurt tomorrow. 
Hell, it probably hurt now. 
But other than the silent shaking, Nico gave no hint that she was pained or distressed. 

Long night? Eh. 
There were ways to shorten that demand. 

Long haul, though? Definitely. 

Quickly, yet quietly, they hustled down the hallway, Cesare patting at the air for Nico to stay behind him as they neared the bend in the corridor. Paused, he closed his eyes and listened - nothing. So, naturally, he did a quick peek, a dip of the head around the corner, and back. He leaned down to Nico's ear, "It's clear fa now. Let's keep movin'."

Around the corner they came, Cesare with a tight grip on Nico's hand as they hurried along toward a few doors and another bend... Slowing down near the doors, Ces looked to Nico and tapped his ear, then pointed to the door across the hall. Guiding her in that direction, he turned and placed his ear against the door nearest him to listen while she hopefully checked the other...

Silence - either a good or bad sign. He looked Nico's way and shook his head, but awaited her confirmation of her door.

Nico's head sounded like the soft rush of the ocean at high tide. Adrenaline drove her breath in cresting waves as blood whispered in susserant currents through the relative silence. It took her a moment to calm her system enough to even TRY to listen. Leaning against the door like it was a cool park bench, she breathed deep and slow for a long moment, straining to sort through what was her own noisy nerves and what might be real trouble. 

Suddenly, her head jerked back - eyes wide in abashed recognition and cheeks flushed a warm pink. A silenced giggle shook her shoulders - and her curls - as she looked back at Ces with a bashful expression. Pointing to the door and then making a rather indiscreet motion with her hands. Apparently, there was a very particular kind of noise happening in that particular room. 

Question was - did they interrupt? 
Or press the advantage?

Cesare blinked a few times, smirked, and then shook his head and held a finger to his lips as he continued down the hallway to the next door - then paused and whipped around to look at Nico. Seemed in his thoughts, he wondered if moving on was the right move? Pointing between the two, he then pointed at the door and shrugged.

'You, me, enter - finger guns?' the hand motions went, then another shrug.

Nico bobbled her head for a moment in genuine contemplation. It was an advantage right now, but those tables could easily turn should the amorous couple bring up the rear once the first cavalcade of gunfire popped off. Leaving them was a risk -- and a high one at that, depending on their loyalty. Slowly, Nico pulled her pistol and quietly tested the latch. Surely they couldn't be that... 

... they were that lucky. 

Moving to one side, she pressed herself tight to the doorframe before cracking it open just enough to peek in.

The smell of debauchery stung her nose, pressed as it was to the crack in the door, as her eyes slowly adjusted to the change in lighting. 
For a long moment, she blinked and squinted, not sure that she could possibly be making out what she thought she was seeing.  
Yet, with more clarity came more certainty. And, again, her head snapped back away from the door with wide eyes that immediately sought Ces' gaze in the darkness. 

She said nothing, but shook her head.  Emphatically shook her head. Brows knitted tight with a newfound worry and concern. 

She couldn't see the man's face at this angle, hunched as he was over the 'work' beneath him. But bent over the desk at the far side of the room was a bored-seeming and all-too-familiar blonde...

Ces tilted his head curiously with a brow raised... Shrugging again, he made the finger-guns, and then shifted to act as if he was hitting a homerun... Asking if she thought the -other- was a better idea?

Regardless, he slid closer, but not to where he could see in just yet - probably for the better. Whispering, he asked softly, "You know someone in there?" with a gentle chuckle. Little did he know HE knew someone in there...

Nico frowned. Her brows furrowing as she tried to sandwich herself between him and the door, looking more worried the closer he got. ^{"Maybe we should just go,"} she mouthed back. Suddenly very far OUT of the long-night-haul. She was still holding the door mostly closed, looking at him with warning, pleading eyes that begged him not go there. But somehow, it didn't seem for her sake. Something in the dark pools of her eyes seemed like... was that pity??

What could possibly have changed her mind that quickly? 

He'd seen how emotional she was about Luca - even to this day. 
How cold and determined she'd been - right up until this moment. 
What shook her hard enough that she'd consider leaving now... when they were already in this deep. 
How bad could it be?? 

And just what was she suddenly hiding from him? 

She couldn't bring herself to say. 
In fact, if he walked away right now, she'd NEVER say -- to him at least. 
Hell, she could give the benefit of the doubt. After all... maybe it was just payment arrangements. No one could blame a girl for keeping business afloat. Maybe it was just business. SURELY it was just business. And none of his business, as a matter of fact. 
That would remain a private conversation between her and his precious little Girl Next Door. 
He'd never have to know. 
If he'd just walk. Away. 

^"Go?" Ces mouthed in question... Whatever it was, it couldn't be THAT bad, could it? He reached for the door and - gently pulled it closed. Whatever thing of hers she was hiding from him, he wasn't going to press her now. Instead, he took her hand and dragged her along. They were going for Flaco, and they were killing Flaco - or making him wish he were dead. One of the other. But for sure? They weren't "just going".

Rushing down to the end of the hall, where Cesare knew Flaco's office was, they didn't bother checking the other doors. If one was being left, no other mattered. Their advantage would be shot to hell regardless - if they didn't get the jump on the ole "Boss Man"...

So, as they neared the door, Cesare slowed to a stop and switched his bat to his left hand, reaching into his coat and pulling out one of the two 1911s he had in his harness-holsters. "Left cheek, lockpick, guarantee this door ain't open," he whispered to Nico, gesturing to his back, left pocket. "Get it open, an' we's make a stand here... Ta hell with this crew'a wannabe's. Cuttin' tha snake's head now."

Nico nodded. That she could do. The back of her rope-burned hand slid lightly against the inside of his pocket as she fished the leatherbound picks out with a featherlight touch. Eyeballing the lock for a moment, she debated the best approach - speed or stealth - and quickly decided the tried and true hook would be her best option. Slightly longer to do, but far less noticeable. 

Kneeling level with he lock, she inserted the tensioner and then pressed her eyes closed. Feeling along each pin and listening carefully to the soft rise and fall until each one softly lifted into place above the shear line. It was smooth work - even by his standards. Perhaps even enough to stir a question or two in the back of his mind. ... at least, it would have been were they not in the middle of a spur-of-the-moment, life and death revenge plot.

There was no smirk as she passed the picks back over her shoulder with shaking hands. Instead, he was met with silence and a leery gaze from her charcoal eyes. 
 

Was he ready??

Was he ready... He was BORN ready - for this kind of shit. She was met with an approving grin and a nod, then was slid behind him as he stood up tall, stretched, and then placed his hand on the doorknob. One final glance her way, and then he faced forward, and turned the knob.

As the door opened, there was a haze that flittered out, and the room immediately smelled heavily of opiates. Had Flaco and his uppers really made it THAT EASY on the two of them? Four men were passed out along the couches, and Flaco - of all people - had his back to the door. There was a bit of a coughing fit as a plume of heavy smoke lifted from the chair. Cesare blinked a few times and looked at Nico - then back. What were the God damned odds Flaco was completely blitzed out of his mind? Just how lucky WERE they?

Ces took a few steps forward, carefully eyeing the men to his left and right - each snoring loudly enough to completely cover their entry. He waved to Nico to shut the door and relock it as he made his way to the desk and leaned on it...