Baltimore, Thursday Evening, Right Before Sunset

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Things that really plucked Kathy's last nerve: 1) turning around and seeing a giant mountain of luggage behind her at the gym when she was perfectly well-adjusted, thank you, and 2) turning around and seeing a trail of mooks trussed like the Thanksgiving turkey behind her on patrol the night before when she was perfectly capable of handling herself, thank you. Never mind that she hadn't noticed at least three of them on her tail--in fact, that just made it even more annoying You know what made someone feel even more resentful? Knowing that she should be feeling grateful instead. Ugh! Not that she had any idea who this 'mysterious benefactor' was--the brief glimpses she'd caught of him showed that he was too tall to be Eliot and too compact to be Mr. Hardison. Which meant that Eliot had farmed this...this...this baby-sitting job off on someone else, because he couldn't be bothered.

So, yeah. She'd gone to sleep fulminating over that and woke up with a duffel bag at the foot of her bed that said Never going to be good enough and you know what? Kathy was just done. The baggage had only gotten worse throughout the day until Kathy had shoved her gi into a backpack and lit out for Baltimore after lunch. Anything to be away from that stupid island for the rest of the day. And, hey, maybe that would make it a lot ha.rder for her obnoxious shadow to find her, too.

Honestly, could today get any worse?

[For them that know who they are, please! NFB]

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[vdistinctive]

Eliot grunted, never having been much one for sparing the breath for mid-fight banter. The Butcher let go of the knife lodged in the trashcan lid and threw a punch at Eliot's head instead, which Eliot immediately blocked, losing his grip on the trashcan lid. The Butcher's other knife came in for another slash at Eliot's face, and he just barely managed to catch it in time, needing both hands to arrest the Butcher's momentum. He twisted the Butcher's wrist, trying to disarm him, but the Butcher moved with the movement, and Eliot had to settle for bringing his foot up and kicking the man away, buying himself a moment of distance and breathing room.

The lackeys at the mouth of the alley apparently took that as their queue; the younger one, only a little older than Kathy, started towards the fight with a knowing smirk.

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For a moment, Kathy let herself get distracted by watching Eliot fight. It was nothing like their spars or practice sessions. He was faster, yes, but more also far more brutal. Instead of the smooth economy of movement he used to teach her, here, Eliot swung with his full measure of power, holding nothing back, the next punch as grimly inevitable as the tides.

That was how the kid--Vanko, she recognized him--managed to get so close, almost halfway up the alley before she noticed him moving.

"Vanko!" she shouted, vaulting over the edge of the fire escape. "Don't even think about it!"

No, she wasn't in her gi. Or her mask. Nor did she have her weapons out. But that wasn't going to stop Kathy from having Eliot's back.

...Regardless of what he thought about it.

[vdistinctive]

". . . The hell?" Vanko asked, thrown by the lack of costume. He skidded to a stop and reached for his gun.

"Goddammit," Eliot bit out, as he blocked another swing of the Butcher's knife. He'd really kind of thought she'd finally gotten some sense and gotten out of there. He was too far away to disarm Kid Crime before he managed to get a shot off, and for a moment he was convinced he was about to watch Kathy die again.

The Butcher caught him with a fist to his ribs while he was distracted, and Eliot realized he wasn't even going to have time to watch it happen.

He should have tied her to a chair when he had the chance.

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Oh ye of little faith, Eliot! Kathy had gone up against Vanko before, several times, and while she never liked tangling with guys with guns, she knew how to handle him.

Kathy hit the ground and bounced high up into the air seconds before the bullet buried itself in the asphalt where she'd landed. But seconds were a surprisingly long time when you moved as fast as Kathy did. By the time the shot was fired, she was already pushing off against the far wall and slamming into Vanko from behind.

She could punch nine times per second. Physics made each punch hurt. Eliot's training made each punch count.

Vanko went down after the fifth punch got him in the back of the neck. Surprised shouts went up from the alley. "It's--it's her! Banzai!" "She's a girl?" "Who cares!"

[vdistinctive]

Okay, Eliot couldn't not watch that, as best as he could, anyway. He couldn't help but grin as he caught glimpses of the techniques he'd taught her in the blur of her movements. They'd work on the whole 'disarm, unload, and dechamber' thing when it came to fighting a guy with a gun later. When they weren't both rather a bit busy.

Fortunately, the Butcher was rather distracted by the whole display as well, if for a different reason. "Bonzai?!" he shouted. "Someone kill her already!" Then he grunted as Eliot took advantage of his distraction to drive a couple of his own punches -- quick in their own right, but agonizingly slow in comparison to Kathy's -- to the man's midsection. The Butcher roared and swung with the knife again, and Eliot ran out of attention to spare.

As for the Butcher's other cronies, they had their orders. They maybe weren't super certain right now they'd be able to carry them out, but "someone kill her already" wasn't really open to interpretation. Two of them moved on Kathy at a time, guns drawn.

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Yeah, even Kathy wasn't fast enough to dodge multiple bullets.

Why was she constantly in these situations in the first place?

"You don't want to do that!" she shouted, staring at the guns they'd pulled. "I'm between you and your boss there. You shoot at me, and you're also shooting at him!" She jumped up again and landed on the shoulders of one of the guys with his gun out. "Or one another! Put your guns down and try to kill me like men! You don't see your boss needing to use a gun to fight somebody! What, are you all sukas?" Yeah, she was probably butchering the pronunciation, but she figured they could guess what she was saying easily enough. "Need a gun to take down one little girl? So sorry about your khui!"

And then she kicked the guy she was standing on in the face. A gout of blood burst from his nose as he roared. She flipped off of him, following it up with a sharp kick to his temple and dashed back over to where Eliot and the Butcher were still fighting. Honestly, staying in front of him was probably her best bet for survival.

[vdistinctive]

Well, except for the part where the Butcher also wanted to kill her. The man hissed with glee when he saw her come near -- and then grunted and cursed when Eliot threw him into the wall again.

"Don't get cocky," Eliot gasped at Kathy as he grabbed one of the approaching lackeys' arms -- they apparently took her taunting to heart -- and yanked the man into the dumpster, throwing an elbow into the back of the man's head to knock it forward into the metal with a sharp *clang* almost as an afterthought. He kicked the man's gun aside, then caught a wild lunge from the enraged Butcher and was dragged back into the thick of his own fight again.

The last remaining lackey circled at distance, gun held low as he looked for a shot.

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The Butcher was still a better bet than bullets, okay?

"I'm not cocky, I just know you have my back," Kathy said, her eyes on the final guy. There had to be a way to get at him without eating lead...

Kathy found her break when he glanced away to watch the fight behind her, Eliot and the Butcher trading punches that would stagger anyone else. As soon as his eyes left her, Kathy was a blur of motion, bouncing towards him in a pattern that would have confused anybody but Parker.

That didn't stop him from firing anyway, two shots, three, the fourth burying itself in the wall next to the Butcher's burned ear. And then Kathy was pouncing on him, far too close for him to shoot and more than willing to work out her frustrations on his face.

[vdistinctive]

"You idiot!" the Butcher shouted when the bullet buzzed past his ear. Eliot took the opportunity to finally get the knife out of the Butcher's hand, turning it back on the man and driving him back several paces. It killed him to do it, but he had to ignore Kathy's fight if he didn't want the Butcher getting a leg up on him and taking them both out. He caught the man across the ribs, enough to draw blood but not enough to slow him down, and the Butcher managed to catch Eliot's wrist, twisting it around and pointing the knife back at Eliot's throat.

It was a remarkably familiar position to Eliot. As was the cold of the dumpster suddenly behind his back as the Butcher used his greater weight to force Eliot into it. The Butcher got his free hand around Eliot's neck, and he pressed in harder, cutting off his airway and leaning his weight into the hand holding the knife, pressing it closer and closer to Eliot's eye.

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Eliot couldn't watch her--but Kathy was watching him.

"Eliot!" she howled, flinging herself up off the last guy and hurtling towards the dumpster, eyes locked on the bright flare of the setting sun catching the blade. She had to get there in time, had to save him, couldn't let the Butcher hurt him. It would be all her fault, all of it! Because she'd been too hurt, too childish, too stupid to listen. "Noooo!"

She bodyslammed into the Butcher, knocking him off of Eliot and to the ground. He grunted twice--once in surprise at being toppled by a girl who barely reached his chin, and again in pain as she landed on him, knees and elbows first. "Don't you hurt him!" Kathy was screaming and barely realized it. "You don't get to hurt him, you don't get to hurt any--urk!"

The Butcher did not get to be the most terrifying man in Kiev by letting opportunities go to waste. Yes, this little girl had knocked him away from Spencer, but this was the little girl he'd come to kill. And if she was going to make it easy for him...Wrapping one hand around her throat, he pushed himself up to his feet. "Bye-bye, Banzai," he told her. "First I kill you, then I kill Spencer, and then I kill anyone else I want."

[vdistinctive]

The Butcher's knife caught Eliot across cheekbone as the man went down, forcing Eliot to twist away to keep from losing an eye. He grunted at the sting of it, choked in a breath -- and looked up just in time to see the Butcher lifting Kathy off the ground by her neck.

As a rule, Eliot didn't let his emotions get involved when he was in a fight. He couldn't. As he'd told Sophie years ago, the one thing he was ever working to control was himself, and the violence he had locked inside him. He never let go in a fight. Not completely. But he couldn't have held back at this moment if he'd tried.

"Change of plans," he growled, and he forced himself between Kathy and the Butcher, sending the base of his palm into the man's throat. He only kept from crushing the man's larynx by virtue of the limited range the space allowed. The Butcher let go of Kathy's neck and staggered back. Eliot followed immediately, stalking forward. He forced the man back into the brick wall and pinned him there, using one foot to kick the knife the Butcher had dropped when he was tackled into the air, catching it by the hilt.

In the span of no more than seconds, the two men's positions were completely reversed, Eliot's arm across the Butcher's throat, knife poised for a killing strike.

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Kathy hit the ground with her knees, crumpling up into a tiny ball as she attempted to breathe, throat feeling raw and swollen. She coughed, a nasty, rasping noise, then sucked in great amounts of air. The Butcher hadn't wanted to strangle her. No, that would have been too gentle. He'd tried to crush her throat.

All she wanted to do was stay down, to finally do what Eliot had asked and let him handle it. The Butcher's lackeys were all down, most of them hurt worse than she'd been--she could stay curled up and breathing until Eliot finished with the Butcher, then maybe help him finish tying them up and...call the cops? Maybe? Let Leverage, Inc sort it out?

God, that sounded so good. So, so, so good. But she couldn't. She had to get up. Because sometimes other heroes needed stopping, too.

"Don't," she croaked, her hand soft on Eliot's shoulder. "Eliot, don't. Please. This isn't--he isn't worth it."

[vdistinctive]

Eliot flinched when her hand touched his shoulder, the knife wobbling for a moment before he held it steady again. Not driving it forward, behind the man's jaw and into his carotid artery -- but not pulling it away either.

"I've already let him live twice," he growled. "I ain't makin' that mistake again."

The Butcher glared back at him, hissing like a cat. Eliot put more pressure on his throat to shut him up.

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"There has to be another way, Eliot. There just has to be." Kathy kept her voice low, soft. Earnest. "Don't let him make you a killer."

The Butcher laughed, a choked noise around the knife. "Too late for that, blyadtch. He was a killer long before the first time we fought."

"You're not that same man now," Kathy said, shooting the Butcher a nasty glare but otherwise ignoring him. "You're not like him. You don't have to be. We can find another way."

[vdistinctive]

Eliot shook his head. The rage was fading, now that he knew Kathy was alright, but he'd made this decision long before he'd seen the Butcher trying to crush the life out of her. "This is the only way, Kathy. He'll just come back, otherwise."

[spin_kick_snap]

"That's bullshit, Eliot!" Kathy said. "There's always another way! There's never just one choice! We can find another option! You're part of Leverage! That's what you do! You find solutions no one else can!"

[vdistinctive]

"Dammit, Ka -- kid." Eliot huffed heavily through his nose. The glare he shot over his shoulder at her was rather more distressed than he would have liked to admit. "For once in your life, would you just listen to me?!"

That glance back was the opportunity the Butcher had been waiting for. He smashed his fist into Eliot's cut cheek, grabbed the knife from Eliot's hand, and sent Eliot crashing back into Kathy and down to the alley floor.

"This is touching," he said, pulling yet another knife from his coat. "Maybe I'll kill you both at the same time."

[vdistinctive]

"Actually, mate, I don't think you will."

The Butcher looked up, eyes blazing in fury, to see a figure silhouetted at the mouth of the alley. "Who?!"

"James Sterling." He stepped further into the alley, holding his badge aloft with one hand, the other holding a gun trained on the Butcher. "Interpol. And if that doesn't convince you. . . ."

"Baltimore PD!" Cops came pouring into the alley to either side of Sterling, all them armed. "Drop the weapon!"

Eliot glared up at Sterling. "You're enjoying this, aren't you."

"Not entirely. I was hoping for an excuse to arrest you, too."

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Kathy peeked out from under Eliot's bulk. He was short, but very compact, damn. "Eliot?" she asked. "Who is this guy?"

And before anyone could answer, she added, "I heard the introduction. I meant more generally. It's clearly personal."

Also, ow. The asphalt was hard.

[vdistinctive]

"He's a dick," Eliot grumbled. He levered himself to his feet, careful not to accidentally shove or kick Kathy in the process, then pressed gingerly at his cheek and grimaced. "Hardison calls him 'lawful good'."

Eliot clearly didn't approve. Hardison hadn't, either, and had in fact added a number of other, more colorful qualifiers to the term.

"Now, don't pout, Spencer." Sterling holstered his gun once the Butcher was disarmed and cuffed. "After all, I just saved your sorry little life."

The Butcher had cooperated with little more than a sneer, clearly counting on his ability to get back out of jail with ease. He snorted at Sterling's statement and leered a promise at Eliot.

"You know the prison system can't hold him," Eliot said, now pressing his hand to his ribs, checking to make sure they'd come out in tact.

"Not in this country," Sterling agreed. "But our friend here is wanted in plenty. I'm thinking . . . Myanmar." The Butcher flinched and Sterling smiled. "They're offering almost as much for him as they are for you."

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"He's one of those?" Kathy asked, bouncing back up to her feet with the ease of both youth and weird powers. Obviously she spoke geek. And, as a vigilante, she was much more chaotic good anyway. "Is this the guy you had following me for the past week?"

Also, don't think for a minute she wasn't going to be grilling you about Myanmar, Spencer.

[vdistinctive]

"What?" Eliot frowned at her. "No."

Sterling snorted. "As though I'd take orders from Spencer."

"Why are you here?" Eliot asked him.

"Because you have better friends than you deserve." Sterling sent the Butcher off to a police car with a heavy pat on the back and a shove.

Eliot shook his head. Hardison and Parker would never -- "Nate?"

Sterling gave him a knowing side-eye. "It certainly wasn't your military chums." He pointed to Eliot's cheek, just milimeters from touching it. Eliot jerked his head away. "Might want to get that checked, mate. Hate for it to get infected."

And then he walked out of the alley, pleased as ever to get the last clever word in.

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"So, did he really just sweep in here, take our perp, smarm at us like it's his job, and then swan off to take all the credit for catching him?" Kathy wanted to make sure she completely understood what was happening here. "After mourning that he couldn't arrest you and making some oblique threat about Myanmar?"

[vdistinctive]

"He did." Eliot sighed, stepping around a cop trying to arrest an unconscious mafioso and heading for the mouth of the alley. "Again."

[spin_kick_snap]

Kathy was careful to hide her bloody knuckles in her pockets and stepped lightly out of the alleyway. "So what are we saying? Unfortunate mugging victims?" she asked in an undertone. "Assuming we have to say anything at all."

She followed him, half a step behind. "If not that guy, who did you have tailing me?" she asked, trying not to sound bitter.

He had just asked for everyone's help for this, hadn't he? Everyone but hers, of course.