Marynia yawned audibly from her place seated upon a dumpster in an alleyway near some fancy restaurant. Clad in black, form fitting pants, boots, and strapless black top beneath the coat, she was looking her usual disgruntled self. She was waiting, and frankly, she hated waiting. Patience was not something she'd been blessed with, and since she hadn't taken those damn meds in forever, she was more restless than ever. Idly, she tugged at her short-red tresses of hair, attention fixed on the entrance of the alley. Fuck, this was taking too long.

With a groan, she hopped down from the dumpster, and wandered over there. Peeking out, she looked to the stupid restaurant her mark was in. So.. BORING. FUCK. How much longer would she have to wait? She'd already taken her precautions to keep her prey from escaping. She'd slashed the tires of that expensive car they drove up in [as well as the tires of the cars on either side of them], and that was about it. She never planned things too much anymore, that took more focus than she naturally had. So Mary was going to do what she always did, just wing it. Think on her feet, and deal with whatever happened. Either way, she'd get it done.

Mary was not up to date with Italian mafia politics. In fact, she could give a shit less about them. So honestly, she didn't think twice when told her mark was the Georgetti Don. Just as long as he who had hired her this time kept their mouth shut about her existence, it'd all work out. She couldn’t' have Monroe finding her, now could she?

Idly adjusting the collar on the dull brown trench coat she was wearing, she sighed, peering at the entrance of the restaurant.

Any day now..

Demos slipped his scarf on as they stepped outside, closing up the restaurant. He set the alarm and slipped the keys into his pocket, walking with Dominic to his car. They'd stayed late to count money and other assorted goods, surrounded by upturned chairs and a spotless bar. He let out a slow, warm breath, watching it rise in the cold air. His eyebrows furrowed as they approached the vehicle, noticing that it was a little.. lopsided. Crouching, he touched his gloved hand over the flat tire, feeling how very un-full of air it was.

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

He was already starting to feel how cold it was, glancing around the pavement for anything sharp. The puncture wasn't a spot. It was a long slash. Some asshole had done this on purpose.

"Damnit, Dom. I just had these rotated."

Dominic breathed warm air into his hands as they approached the car, looking forward to ending his few terrible seconds in the cold as soon as possible. Needless to say, he was more than just a little pissed to realize he wasn't going anywhere warm just yet.

"You have got to be kidding me." He grumbled miserably, stooping down to assess the situation. Glancing sidelong, he noticed the other slashed tire and groaned audibly.

"Well fuck, so much for using the spare."

He stood back up slowly, exasperated with the whole situation. It was cold and late, he should have been hibernating in bed by now.

"I guess I'll go call for a tow." Shifting his shoulders, he readjusted his scarf over his black trench coat and started out towards the lone phone booth on the corner.

"I'll be right back."

Marynia had been watching them, smiling widely when she saw the taller of the two start to walk away toward the pay phone. Oh, this was going to be too easy. She waited until he was far enough away before moving. Marynia started to stalk over, slowly and quietly, taking into consideration the position of the streetlight and the direction her own shadow would fall. By the time the other finished his phone call, it'd be too late and she'd be out of there.

It wasn't until she was mere steps away from Demos that she struck, grabbing hold of that scarf and yanking backward, clasping her free hand over his mouth in the same motion. Striking the back of his ankles with the heel of boot, once his balance faltered he'd be easier to drag away.

And drag him she did! Moving as quickly and as quietly as the years of training she'd had enabled her, she pulled Demos with her into the alley from which she'd watched them. As soon as they were in the relatively dimmer light of the dirty filthy alleyway, she pretty much threw him against the wall, hard, hand still on his mouth and the other still gripping the cloth of the scarf. For a long moment she was silent, attention on the direction that they'd come in, listening. Hearing nothing, she turned to Demos, looking him in the eyes and smiling at him.

It took her a total of 2.3 seconds to yank him forward away from the wall and promptly sock Demos in the face.

Demos staggered back a bit, immediately feeling the results of the punch stinging through his jaw and making his head ache. He held his hand to his face, clenching his teeth and he shook his hair out of his eyes. He looked up, quite surprised to see that it was a tiny girl and not a large man.

"Merda!" He hissed between his teeth. "You bitch!"

His hand quickly moved to pull the gun from his coat, moving faster than he thought he would with his head pounding so much. Fuck, that hurt!

Oblivious the attack on his cousin's life, Domino placed a call to the first company he could find in the phonebook. He didn't have the time to go flipping through trying to read all the tiny English for the one with the best price, he just wanted to go home. His impatience with the English language tonight was a blessing.

He hung up the phone a little too roughly, muttering in Italian how ridiculous a 30-minute wait for a tow truck was at this hour. What could they possibly be doing that would take them that long?

Domino shoved his hands in his jacket pockets as he started back towards their car, when he noticed something dramatically wrong with the picture.

"...Demos?" He blinked, dumbfounded. He'd been gone less than a minute for Christ's sake!

"Demos!" He called out as he broke into a jog, praying he'd just gotten inside the car to get away from the cold.

No such luck.

Frantically, he searched the general area, thinking the worst. He should have known better, two slashed tires at this hour? How could he have been so stupid! And then walking away? At that moment he had every right to panic.

"DEMOS?"

Marynia, had been called much much worse in her lifetime and was not fazed by name-calling. However, her attention had flickered instantly to the movement of Demos' hand. On instinct, her hand thrust out, grabbing hold of the other's wrist and pulling it back and away. Her grip on his wrist was tight, in fact, she hadn't noticed she was letting her fingernails bite into the pale flesh. All she paid attention to was the fact that she'd kept the gun away from being aimed at herself. She turned in place and slammed her back against Demos, pulling his arm straight in front of her.

Just as quickly as Demos had retrieved his gun, she pulled a knife, the one she'd used to slash the tires. She held the jagged blade close to his skin. Her head was tilted back, so she was still facing Demos even if her back was technically to him.

"Drop the gun.." Mary pressed the obviously dirty blade against his wrist, between her clenched fingers. ".. or lose the hand."

Demos tensed, his breath coming out in puffs as he thought quick and hard. His fingers tightened before relaxing. The gun drooped, dangling from his pointer finger and rocking back and forth a bit as it hung. He hadn't exactly dropped it, but it wasn't like he could use it now either. Dominic had given it to him, after all. He didn't want to just let it fall.

Pressing his mouth into a thin line, he took the brief pause in time to jerk his body aside, elbowing her in the rib and shoving her off. The struggle tossed the gun from his finger and it clattered onto the pavement, firing from the pressure. The gunshot pierced the cold air, echoing across the brick walls. Unfortunately, the bullet simply pounded into a trash can instead of miraculously getting her in the face.

"Fuck!"

The elbow to her torso had caught her momentarily off guard. She genuinely hadn't expected the hit, she hadn't expected Demos to be this brave. She coughed, raggedly, hand going to her ribs as she was shoved aside. She would've been able to hold her ground if she weighed more, and found herself cursing her own thin build. Her coughs were drowned out by the sudden misfire of the gun when it hit the ground. Her reaction was to look to where the sound of the initial drop came, moving then to make sure and put herself in the way in case Demos went for the gun.

Well, so much for being quiet about this.

Slouching and wheezing briefly, she turned her head to look at Demos, red hair hanging over her face and shadows obscuring it. Glaring at him for a second, she then smirked, slowly rising to stand straight. "Just for that.." She used her foot to slide the gun backward, away from them both as she switched the knife from one hand to the other. "I'm taking both hands." Her tone was flat, and she was dead serious.

Without another word, she rushed him, planting a steel-toed boot kick right to his chest, hoping to hear a snap of bone.

Domino nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the gunshot, though the subsequent clash of the bullet against the trashcan gave him hope he wasn't too late.

Perhaps it had been a blessing Demos had dropped his gun because now at least Domino knew where to look.

Taking off full speed, he bolted in the direction of the sound. His eyes caught the half hidden alley, and there was no more need for thought. He skidded to a halt at the head of the alley, dark jacket swirling about his knees with the momentum of his recent movement, backlit from the street light what he saw horrified and infuriated him.

Darting down the alley, he used both hands to grab hold of the small girl's shirt. She was so light he had no problem literally lifting her off of Demos and hurling her back to the ground.

He spun around on his heels, fists raised ready to beat the living day lights out of that little thing. Everything he'd ever learned about not hitting girls he didn't give a damn about just then. He'd tear her to pieces first.

"What the fuck is going on?" He growled at her, tone to cold it made the air around them seem tropic. Domino snarled down at her as he spoke, actually bearing his teeth as if some primal sense of how to protect had come over him.

Mary once again hated being so light. She cursed vividly in Ukrainian as she was hoisted up and tossed like a rag doll to the floor. Shaking her head to make the world stop spinning, she glared up at the figure looming over her. Fuck, this guy threw her around about as hard as her mother used to when she was 6. Not moving, she just stared at him, mimicking his facial expression by baring her own teeth at him.

"None of your FUCKING BUSINESS YOU GUINEA FUCK!" She shouted, throwing a random pipe from the alley floor at his face, in the same instance extending a leg to drive her heel at his shin, just inches from his ankle.

Much like a cornered animal, she was going to lash out more wildly than before. And seeing as this one had height and strength over her, she'd need to cheat. Scrambling to her feet then, she was pissed, and without a second thought lunged at him, knife ready to slash any part of him that got within range.

Domino threw up his arms to protect his face and deflected the pipe easily enough. For once he was thankful it was cold, had he not had on several layers of clothing, his arms would have hurt a lot more then they did from the impact.

The pipe, though unpleasant by all accounts, didn't bother him nearly as much as the kick to his shin. It hurt like fuck and he hissed like an angry snake when it made contact so dangerously close to his ankle. She had no way of knowing that was nearly the weakest point of his whole body, but that didn't mean he'd forgive her. Now he had two reasons to want to remove her head.

"Who the fuck do you think you are!"

Unfortunately for her, she forgot to take into account his third advantage, reach. Before her arms were within range of his body, he swung his long leg through the air at her knife wielding hand. Domino let the momentum continue through his body as he rounded the kick. Foot firmly placed on the ground, he twisted around for a second more powerful blow aimed at her head, all the while fists ready to knock her senseless if she managed to dodge.

"Demos!" He called over his shoulder, not daring to take his eyes off her.

"Toss me something to beat it with, I don't want to catch whatever disease it has." He snorted coldly like an angry bull ready to charge, making wispy puffs of air as he breathed.

Demos had been thrown back against the hard brick wall, momentarily losing his breath. He put a hand on his chest, coughing and inhaling. He was about to attempt to stand back up when Dominic had run in, standing between him and the girl. He wasn't sure if he should be relieved or worried, but naturally felt more relaxed. He had faith in his cousin's ability to beat the shit out of people, especially a small girl. Exhaling, he glanced around the alley for something to throw to Domino. It was the side of their own restaurant, there had to be something deadly amongst the trashcans.

His eyes caught a pile of old kitchen supplies that had been dumped in a box and he snatched a long, black handle. It was one of their old steel cooking pans. It wasn't exactly a weapon, but his gun was on the other side of the alley and this was better than nothing.

"Dom, here!"

Domino turned just in time to catch the old pan one-handed by the handle. He paused for a split second when he realized what he had just caught.

…This wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. Why couldn’t the restaurant have thrown out some old knives or a meat tenderizer? That would be his luck. It was too late to worry about it now anyway.

He glanced at Demos with an arched eyebrow before spinning back around poised to hit her in the face with a wide swinging motion if he could wing it. By now he assumed she’d be on the attack again. It didn't take a genius to know that one had a few screws loose. Maybe this wasn't the first time someone tried to smack her upside the head with a pan.

And actually, it wasn't. She'd had a hell of a childhood.

The knife had been knocked from her hand, his heavy foot making contact with fingers and damn near breaking a few with it's force, but as soon as he'd made that move, she'd let go of the knife. She knew better than to try holding onto it, or go after it. She managed to dodge the second blow, taking half a step back in order to keep out of range for a moment and quickly assess the situation. She'd overlooked the whole long-arms and long-legs thing, but rather than dwell on it, she moved on, thinking on her feet had always been a strongpoint of hers. Mary couldn't help but laugh lightly to herself at what he'd said. He was lucky, what disease she had wasn't of the kind one could pass on; hers was of the mental sort.

In the few seconds it took the exchange between Dominic and Demos, realization settled on her. Wait, she knew this fucker. Not personally, but knew OF, knew the stories, especially fond of the skull-crushing one. What luck! Oh, this was going to be fun.

Seeing the pan being swung right at her, she caught his forearm in mid swing, however not meaning to STOP him really. Latching on, she pulled, and seeing as he was sturdy as a tree [and she weighed close to nothing compared to him], she had no problem hoisting herself upward, planting a foot against his knee, and raising herself up to eyelevel with him.

A malicious grin was on her face. "Too slow." As soon as the worlds left her lips, she used his knee as leverage, suddenly leaning backward in order to unleash two consecutive kicks to the underside of Dominic's chin. The movement was done in the blink of an eye, one foot then the other making contact, hard, her whole body then doing a full flip as she landed on her feet.

A perfect dismount. Dominic might've had height, range, and strength over her, but she definitely had speed, agility, and flexibility that he couldn't have had because of his size.

"Who do I think I am? Oh dear, how quickly the underground world forgets it's kind." She said in a singsong voice, more amused than even remotely afraid of the Georgetti assassin. Funny thing was, she was actually WAITING on him, waiting for him to strike. Mary wanted this one to last a while. "Two years isn’t' so long, is it? You're making me feel old."

Domino might have been confused by Marynia's babble had he actually been listening to a word she was saying. At that particular moment he was a little busy being concerned about what could have been a broken jaw.

He stumbled back two steps, a hand instinctively reaching up to his chin to test the freshly accosted flesh. Domino's dark eyes flickered up at her like a wild beast's while he made sure he could still move his mouth. When he snarled at her, his teeth were lightly coated with his own blood, giving him a ravenous, almost wolven look.

Turning his head slightly to the side, he spat blood to the dirty pavement and wiped his mouth clean with the sleeve of his freehand. The whole process only took seconds to complete, but during that time her words finally had a chance to filter through his memory.

Then it hit him. He HAD heard of this creature before, a little psychopathic demon if memory served. He could have sworn he'd heard she was dead. In their business, you never could trust anything you heard.

"You certainly seem cocky for someone out of the game for so long."

His eyes darted to one side, forced to think quickly. She had speed he couldn't dream of matching, so now the objective was to slow her down long enough to catch. If he got his hands firmly on her again, it would be over. She'd never be able to overpower him.

<"Cover me."> He called to Demos in quick Italian as he twisted suddenly to one side. Grabbing hold of a trashcan by the rim, he kicked the bottom into and angle, and threw the whole thing at her feet.

He was counting on her to dodge it.

Marynia's eyes shone in a completely unnatural way upon seeing the way blood was on his teeth. A feral, almost animalistic appearance to them, it was fascinating and kind of appealing in her twisted mind. Seeing the blood pretty much made her happy, even if she hadn't managed to break his jaw, which would have been fucking wicked. It always was.. sigh. Oh well, she got first blood!

She made a sort of 'tch' sound. "Go fuck yourself you dumb ox." The redhead replied with a sneer-like smile.

Mary didn’t' feel the need to state that just being out of the spotlight didn't mean she hadn't been active. Because she had been. But if he wanted to think she was rusty, let him. Her attention flickered to Demos for a moment. She was almost certain she wouldn’t' have to worry about that one as much as she'd have to Dominic. Mary could tell he wasn't a fighter, and if he'd been packing any weapons other than that gun, he wouldn't have been staying back and letting the tall one stand between them. Ah well, soon enough. She'd mark up that 'pretty' face of his but GOOD.

When Dominic' spoke, her attention snapped away from cutting up Demos' face in her mind back to the other assassin. Seeing the trash can coming her way, she moved on pure instinct, for a moment not thinking a step ahead of the immediate action of dodging the object flying at her.

Her dodge meant two things for Domino. First of all, while dodging she couldn't avoid a second attack, and secondly, it gave him time to close in on her without having to worry about her superior speed.

The second he was in range, he reached out and dug his powerful fingers into her scalp, clutching as much of her hair as his large hand could with violent force. He twisted the pan handle in his hand once before he slammed the edge into her throat while lifting her by her hair at the same time.

In one motion, he attempted to use his powerful body to lift her far smaller one into the air and throw her behind himself, using the pan as an axis of rotation.

That hit straight to her throat more than the brutal yank of hair and consequent fall onto the unforgiving hard ground, was rightfully one of the more painful blows she'd experienced. Eyes widening upon the initial contact, she hardly felt the sensation of.. weightless flying through the air, before she was reintroduced face first to the pavement. She wasn't laying on the ground for more than a moment, immediately scrambling to at least her knees, one hand on the alley floor for balance and the other to her neck. Eyes wide, she was gasping and coughing and gagging all at once, breathing was extremely hard to do just then, the pan's handle had made perfect contact in order to render the task of getting oxygen to her lungs near impossible feeling. Her small form, enveloped in the oversized coat, shuddered, for a split second the possibility of her esophagus actually being CRUSHED filtering into her mind until she was able to get a breath clearly.

SHIT. That had hurt. Any harder and it would've taken her head OFF. Calloused fingers touched over her throat, feeling it over and trying to estimate the damage. It'd bruise. She bruised easily, in a while there'd be horrible blue-black marks on it, but other than that she couldn't feel anything else. Of course..breathing was still fucking hard, she was gasping and wheezing loudly, body still shaking some and her scalp tingling from the sheer force of her hair being pulled that way.

She tried then to get up, but her legs weren’t' cooperating, considering the world was spinning and her stomach turned, somehow her insides affected by the power behind the violent blow to her throat. Shaking her head, she slowly let go of her throat and looked up, seeing Demos since she'd landed considerably close to him. She was about to say something when her stomach lurched one more time and...ohshit...shitshitshit...

Without warning or much grace to the action, she vomited a mix of stomach contents and blood mere inches from Demos' shoes. Fuck, that hit'd shaken her up more than she'd anticipated. Unceremoniously wiping her mouth on her sleeve, she wheezed, and shook her head again, gaze fixated down at the pavement. Her shoulders shook, and she emitted vocalizations that sounded like.. crying, as she managed to stand, albeit slightly hunched. But the sound turned to laughter as she then she whipped her head up suddenly, staring at Demos with a strange glint in her eyes, a bit of blood still at the corner of her mouth. Lips were curved into a smile, one that was downright gleeful.

"Your.. tall friend is fun." She uttered, jerking her posture upright. Mary shrugged off her coat, letting it fall on the ground. She didn’t' seem to care it was freezing, and she was clad in very little clothing on her top half. Mary cracked her shoulders, physically still reeling from not being able to breathe as good as before, but she forced herself to ignore it. "You're boring."

Then, she just spit blood on his jacket. Grossly.

Demos stared at her with half lidded eyes, resisting the urge the rip off his jacket and toss it to the ground like it had the plague. Instead he looked her up and down, noticing it she didn't seem like she was about to go anywhere. Slowly, he walked to the side, kneeling to pick up his gun. He wiped it off on his pants, getting a bit of street dirt off of the handle. As soon as this was done, he looked back at her, raising his arm to smack her across the temple with it. His expression didn't change as she fell, simply pocketing the gun and pulling a dark red handkerchief from his coat. He wiped at the blood on his collar, frowning a little.

"Fuck this, I don't have time to go to the dry cleaners tomorrow."

Wiping the last bit off, he glanced at the dirty handkerchief before tossing it into an alley trashcan. At least the vomit didn't touch his shoes. His attention turned back to Dominic, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"Put her in the trunk. Hopefully the tower won't bother looking."

Standing tense, he was totally ready to start up another round with the crazy girl, who he was now certain was mental. Who in their right mind would be wearing that in this weather?

However, he didn't get the chance. Domino stared at his cousin with raised eyebrows, mildly shocked over what he had just witnessed. He blinked stupidly before some greatly subdued urge almost made him want to laugh, but by feigning a cough he covered it up.

"I could always hit him with the pan if he did." he replied with a bemused smirk as he tossed the makeshift weapon aside with a clatter.

Walking over sternly, he stooped down and lifted her off the dirty ground by the back of her shirt with one hand. He hefted her over his shoulder and headed for the car, signaling for Demos to open the trunk for him. His hands were rather full at the moment.

"What exactly do you plan to do with her?" he asked while shutting the trunk. They could have just shot her and left her for dead had they wanted to.

Demos looked down the road, shielding his eyes from the headlights of the oncoming tow truck. They'd apparently stuffed her in just in time.

"Well, she's either stark raving mad, or somebody sent her. She's probably just crazy but.. just in case. I want to know who."

His voice trailed off as the tow truck driver parked and got out of his car, surveying the tires.

"You the fellas that need a tow?"

"Yes, thank you."

Demos' eyes watching him carefully, locked on to the man as he circled the car, taking a look at it. His breath let out when he passed the trunk, moving to hook the front up to his truck.

Perhaps the towers in town knew better than to ask questions to a couple of Italians standing around looking slightly ruffled in the middle of the night having car trouble. Either way, the worker's simplicity it was terribly convenient.

"Thanks for coming so short notice." He added politely enough, but a knowing glance at Demos showed the sarcasm of his comment.

While the tower hooked up the car, he fussed over Demos a bit, checking to be sure he wasn't hurt and strategically help him cover up the blood on his shirt before anyone noticed by wrapping his scarf around him.

"And where you headed tonight?" He tower asked, dusting off his hands as he came around to them.

"The Marquise estates." He replied, pulling on his gloves idly as he spoke.

The tower gave a whistle, but said nothing more as he signaled for them to get in so they could all be on their way.

One would've thought head-trauma was a regular occurrence for the redhead, which it was, but really no one is quite that immune to a concussion. If he'd hit the other side of her head it'd have been a different story, given the metal plate, but as it was Demos ended up having better aim than he might've realized.

One second there were jumbled plans of another attack, and the next sudden blackness. Knocked out and completely unaware of being moved into the trunk of a car, it didn't take a genius to know that upon waking, she would not, in fact, be a very happy camper.

To be continued.