SIX

Your Way Wednesday Prompt:

“Are you flirting or starting a fight?”+ Make me a sandwich.

The pair hopped out of the trashy, banged up Kia Spectra that Dale had hot-wired for them earlier that day into an ugly, foggy night. There was trash in the gutter and it felt like they were walking through a cloud, mist clinging to their cheeks uncomfortably. 

“Are you sure this is the place?” Six whispered. Her name wasn’t really Six, but she preferred it to Stella. It sounds like I’m either a fat Italian woman or a dog. So Six it was. The reason: her favorite number was Six. 

“It has to be.” Felicity hissed back. She was shivering and the oversized sweater she wore hung loosely on her small frame. 

There was a loud crash and Six immediately shoved Felicity behind her. Felicity just saw the wisp of a cat’s tail as it skittered around the corner of an overflowing dumpster. 

“Let’s get in there already,” Six said as she took Felicity by the arm. 

Felicity couldn’t help but cough out a pathetic excuse for a laugh. 

“Sure. Let’s go see the weapons dealer. That’s gotta be MUCH safer than here.” Six rolled her eyes and lead her to the only door in the brick wall. She rapped on it twice, paused, then hit it once more. A peephole slid aside and a low voice rumbled through. 

“If life gives you lemons…”

“Forget the lemons and make me a sandwich.” Six said managing to keep a straight face. 

The peephole slid back into place and Felicity whispered, “Dale said this guy was a little eccentric, but you’ve got to be kidding me. That’s really the password?”

Six shrugged and the door opened so the women could squeeze inside. The place was surprisingly cozy. There were various heavy rugs laying around the room that was the size of a large living room. The walls were bare, but there was what looked like random paint samples haphazardly painted around the place in patches in all colors. There were a handful of low sitting stuffed chairs in varying degrees of health, hues and patterns.  There were two coffee tables. One was amidst the stuffed chairs and the other was backed against a wall with a large atrium claiming it’s surface. The heating lamp hummed and there was a low static in the background from what sounded like a poorly cared for radio. 

Six exhaled loudly taking it in and took off her black hood. She looked like a fallen angel with flawless cheekbones and a profile to match. She wore a black leather jacket, had a blonde pixie cut and both of her ears were lined with metal. Her dark lined eyes caught Felicity’s and seemed to say, Well, Dale did say the guy was a little loony.

Her eyebrows raised when she caught sight of the man standing behind Felicity. Felicity twirled in response and was… baffled. 

The man’s dark hair was sicking out haphazardly around a cloth tie-dyed headband. He was tall, broad shouldered, and was wearing a deep purple silk robe with no shirt. His lower half was sporting metallic, silver joggers and, of all things, he had Uggs on his feet. To top it off, a large snake was resting around his neck. 

“You ladies,” his eyes lingered on Six and her 5’8” model-like body for a hint longer than necessary, “are not my usual clientele. How can I help you?” 

“You’re the arms dealer?” Six asked, not even trying to hide her disbelief. 

“Depends whose asking, sweetheart.” His grin looked more menacing than endearing and it struck Felicity that she was slightly impressed that he could come across as menacing in his ensemble. 

Six gave Felicity the side-eye and laid a wad of cash on the low standing coffee table that sat between the women and their host. 

“What can you get us for that?” He smirked, took a step forward and, stroking the snake, snatched the money and fingered through it. His eyes flitted up and he nodded, satisfied. 

“Come into my office,” he said, the wad disappearing into a hidden pocket somewhere. 

He let them to the back of the room where a random counter stood, it’s surface covered in stickers. Behind the counter were two wardrobes. One black with a crescent moon painted on the large doors and the other bright yellow with a blazing sun.  Felicity and Six stopped behind the counter and watched as the man opened the yellow wardrobe dramatically. Felicity had never seen so many guns in one place before. 

“Do you like them bigger, or something more manageable for the small one?” He nodded in Felicity’s direction and Felicity bristled. Six grinned. 

“Why don’t you just show me what you have and I’ll say yay or nay.” Felicity watched as Six bartered and argued with the man over different makes and models and whether the quality was worth the cost. At one point, Six held up the gun in front of her testing it’s weight as she pointed it at the painted moon. 

“Are you on the lam? Do you need a place to stay? I don’t mind sharing my place with such fine-” 

Six interrupted him by slamming the small handgun to the counter. She picked up a larger gun and fit it to her shoulder, testing the sight and turned to point it directly at his head. 

“I can’t tell, Bazen. Are you flirting or starting a fight?” The man, Bazen, tried to play it off, but didn’t respond. 

“Both are bad ideas,” Felicity said to him helpfully. Six smirked, pulling the trigger. An empty click sounded. She carefully placed it back on the table. 

“No one is suppose to know my name.” He said quietly. 

“Yeah, well you probably shouldn’t have let it slip to Dale. He’s kind of a loud-mouth.” Bazen paled. 

A half-hour passed before Felicity and Six walked out with four guns, ammo for all, two small knives and a promise to never speak his name again.