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“Put your back into it!” Billy yelled, their “ward” struggling to pick up the pallet.
“Yea! If you can’t pick that up, kid, you’ll never be able to drag a body around!”
She scowled, her brows furrowed, and she tried again. She got it off the ground this time… before she fell over backward.
“God damn-“ Before he could rant, Stu took his arm.
“Isn’t this great?” He buried his face in the crook of his neck “Reminds me of us way back.”
Billy wanted to argue; instead he let the girl struggle, holding onto the optimism his partner had.
*
It was odd to have a spunky wannabe-killer teen in their home. Odder that she’d gained their trust enough for them to let her in on their “secret”
(People always suspected it was them. Being the only survivors of a slaughter, they’d garnered a reputation in the True Crime Community. That, and Stu was awful about acting innocent.)
“So… when will I get to kill someone?”
“Slow down, slow down,” Billy rolled his eyes. “You can barely kill a fly, much less a person right now.
She pouted. Based on how much she did it, that was her go-to expression.
*
Kisses between the small moments of the day were nice. One on the cheek, another on the head. They’d share them from day to night, dawn to dusk, and then again the next day.
It was simple. Their life had gone so domestic. In their time of being retired they found their bloodlust slowly drained away…
“She’s getting better, Billy,” Stu said pointing at her as she stabbed the manikin in the heart “Look at that, clean. Soon we can teach her how to gut a man.”
He stole a kiss from him; passion ignited in more than one way.