Butterflies Volume II

Chapter 9

Violet and Kimiko headed back into the office first, Violet avoiding any more looks from Butcher. It went silent after she said no, and stayed that way all the way home. She checked her watch as they went inside, Violet sighing as she just wanted to leave. If she left now, she could make it to help set up the theater, but she doubted it all was finished.

Kimiko slumped in her chair with a huff, and for a brief moment Violet was glad she couldn't speak to save her from talking about the journey home. The first time in a year Violet and Butcher had been in the same car together, and it was spoiled. It was silly to believe it could have been special or at least content, as there was always a way to ruin everything. Frenchie was back laying plasters down his arm, and Violet would have asked why he was doing so if she didn't lack the energy. She dragged over a chair to sit with them, Kimiko signing to Frenchie, likely telling him what had just happened. Letting her head drop back, Violet stared at the ceiling.

"You work for him, too," she heard Frenchie say, and she closed her eyes. She just wanted peace, she wanted to leave, she wanted to see the kids if that could make her feel any better.

Frenchie and Kimiko had stepped aside to talk further, and if only Violet knew their language to be able to understand what was going on. Kimiko smiled, waving a hand to the door and Frenchie's expression cooled.

"Wouldn't that be nice huh?"

"What would?" Violet called from her chair.

Kimiko turned to him and signed for him to speak, which he did, "she's saying for us to leave, to go to Marseille."

Violet's grin was interrupted as the door opened, the rest of their group piling through. M.M. headed right for his desk, pulling out a file and slamming the drawer. He left soon after.

"All right, let's have it," Butcher said to Frenchie, "where the fuck you been all day?"

As he brushed past Frenchie, he glanced at Violet only momentarily. Frenchie swayed on his feet to Butcher's disregard of his personal space, rolling his eyes.

"I was, uh, detained by Little Nina."

Kimiko signed, presumably asking who that was, just as Violet wondered.

Dumping his coat behind her, Butcher questioned, "Little Nina? And what does that Russian slag want with you?"

"It's a long story," he said.

"Hang about," Butcher froze for a moment, and superb an idea was formed, "this is a fucking gold mine, Frenchie. Set up a meeting with you, me and Little Nina."

"No, no, no. This is a very, is a very bad idea-"

"Then let's bring Violet too for safety."

Violet sat up straighter in her chair, "excuse me?"

"This a fucking good idea," he said, "go on. Get on the phone, give her a call right now.

Frenchie looked at Kimiko before gritting his teeth, "oui, monsieur. And what are we doing this for?"

Butcher rested a hand on his shoulder, "cause, my son, we're going to Russia."

As her eyes widened so far they might pop out, Violet watched as Butcher went back to his desk and sat down. Russia? We, as in the whole group... going to Russia. In what realm was that a good idea? On what planet would it be smart to halt everything for a trip to Russia? But she knew exactly why, because Soldier Boy could be there. The weapon could be there. Why didn't she just head to the tower and kill Homelander then and there, save her cancelling all that was important to her to run off to Russia. Because of course she was still afraid, after his meltdown on national television, perhaps she was more afraid than she was before.