Bane

November 25, 1993

7:30 AM

"Can you believe this?" Bishop turned the page of the newspaper, Gina sitting across from him. His raspy singsong voice carried in scarcely more than a whisper across the low lit den, windows open, curtains drawn, and tied tightly shut. "......huh."

"I'm not asking you what."

"Well, since you asked. President Clinton's signed the Brady Handgun Violence Prevention Act. Waiting periods aren't going to stop people from doing stupid things."

Gina yawned, and took a slow sip of her coffee. "...Brady Bill? Like the Brady Bunch?"

"Who? What?"

She did not bother to smile. "Never mind. Where's the others?"

"They'll be here soon." Bishop read a while longer.

"...this is boring, Bishop. I haven't had a hunt."

"What is your urgency for bloodshed, I wonder? Still angry?"

Gina glared, and hoped he could feel it through the newspaper, the news paper he did not bother to lower for their conversation.

Cameron would have.

They would have argued, fought, and making up would be the best part of the whole ordeal. "I'm not angry, Bishop. Not at Cameron, anyway. I'm pissed because we've trained, and trained, and trained, and no matter my proficiency... nothing."

"Sometimes we kill them. Sometimes they kill us. Sometimes we enjoy breakfast, and a newspaper. Or we try, don't we?"

Gina was silent after that.

Bishop continued to read, though she hoped the ellipse that came in her silence delivered a clear enough message to Bishop at her displeasure.

"...ease up on the tension, Gina Guerrero. It's a feast day."

Gina turned away, trying not to sulk. Trying not to be such a girl as Cameron put it. Two men in her life, now. Two men creating complications, and questions; more questions than answers... and confusion. For the love of Cameron, or the... whatever... of Bane. Not even a man. A thing. A creature. A creature that still got her engine going, but a creature all the same. An abomination.

A monster.

A wave of heat rolled over her.

Enough of that.

Gina almost said it aloud, and was glad she kept it in her head where those thoughts belonged.

She heard a heavy thud upstairs, and the groan from his bedroom was audible down the hall, the stairs, and into the den where she sat wishing Cameron would come over an apologize already. He needed to apologize, so she could apologize, so they could at least be friends. After that night, he never returned, never called, never wrote, and made no attempts to contact her.

Any sidelong attempts she made to contact him failed.

Had he forgotten her?

The mood in her changed, and whatever heat she felt moments before at the thought of the inexorable green-eyed Bane, turned to anger, and now the only green-eyed monster was a jealousy burning in her heart. Jealousy over someone she was certain was out there, wooing her man, and keeping him from her. Someone she was certain at best was imaginary, born out of her guilt, and at worse, no one at all... that Cameron really let her go, and moved on.

She fought tears.

Gina followed Mark's clumsy, heavy morning plodding, and pretended she could see through the ceiling. Mark, struggling to his feet, and creeping along to the shower. When the water came on, the shrill muffled bellow from the shower let her know that he still had not figured out how to turn the hot water to his shower back on. The cold shower was a long one, all the same, and all the time, the entire time, she could hear him cursing from up stairs.