Love At Gunpoint

Chapter 7

"You know, I think we should talk to Greyson."

Rose looked up to see Hunter standing in front of her, holding a shot glass out to her. She took it from his hand and he sat down on the couch next to her, drinking from his own glass. She stared at him with an amused smirk. "It's only 3 in the afternoon."

He shrugged. "Who says you can't drink in the day?" As if to make his point, he drained his shot glass.

"True," she said, and carelessly finished up the drink. It filled her with a sensation that was both slightly burning and very fizzy. They'd been so used to the experience that it'd become almost normal.

"What makes you say that?" She asked a moment later, referring to his suggestion.

Hunter was holding his glass up to eye level, frowning at the glass as if he had just realised he had emptied it. "Well, he's been brooding all day."

She raised an eyebrow. "Brooding?"

He set his glass on the side table with a clink. "I see him standing outside in the yard by himself, staring into thin air."

She snorted. "He's weird anyway."

"How so?"

"He's straight as an arrow," she supplemented, sinking further back into the couch. "Besides the fact that he swears. Mildly. He's like this pure boy who hates violence and everything 'bad'." She finished with a mocking voice, drawing imaginary quotation marks in the air.

"He hasn't spent years in an environment like ours, for sure," he said, running a hand through his messy dark hair. "Can't exactly blame him."

"I know, but it's pathetic," she threw her hands up in the air. "You know it's impossible to even survive in this field like that!"

He smirked, quirking an eyebrow. "Agent Rose, is it just me or are you caring for him?"

"Agent Hunter, I swear I will throw this bloody shot glass at you."

He let out a deep laugh and slung an arm around the scowling Rose's shoulder. "You're so cute when you get mad."

She raised her glass threateningly.

He picked his glass up again and clinked it with hers. "Cheers, mate."

She shook her head, but the corners of her lip had already turned up. "You are incorrigible."

He looked at her for a while, a big smile on his face. "See, you should smile more. You look prettier that way. You already are, but you get what I mean."

"Shut up," she smirked, shaking his arm off.

He laughed again and stood up from the coach. "I still say we should go talk to Greyson, though."

She sighed. "Do we have to?"

He looked pointedly at her from above. "Last time I saw him, he was holding his pistol."

Her eyes widened, and she stood up. "Seriously?"

"Yes," he said, taking both their glasses and a bottle of Smirnoff vodka from the table by the door where he had left it when he had entered. He raised the bottle to make a point as he spoke. "We'll offer him a drink."

She grinned. "Good one."

∞

As it turned out, Hunter wasn't joking, either about offering Greyson a drink (Rose thought that was a funny prospect, though) or Greyson holding his pistol. It was the same yard where Greyson and Rose had had yet another tiff after Serene broke up with him - the dirt-dusted grass was a duller shade of green, the walls an old-looking white, the large open field with several trees here and there. It was an old yard that had stayed with the agency and the building through its many upgrading works to become the modern establishment it was today.

When they came into the yard, he didn't even show any sign that he had noticed their presence. In fact, when they entered, he had been shooting at some old worn targets. It alarmed both of them.

"Greyson?" Rose called out.

He cocked the pistol and fired another shot, this time hitting the ring closest to the bullseye, just barely missing the centre. He swore loudly.

Hunter walked up to him, holding the bottle of vodka out. "Drink?" Rose gave her friend a pointed look.

Greyson finally gave them the attention, staring at the bottle. "I don't drink."

"Why not?" Hunter questioned.

"I don't know..." he said slowly. "I just... no."

Hunter shrugged and drew the bottle back to himself.

"What are you doing?" Rose asked, taking a few steps closer to them.

Greyson glanced at her and back to the dartboard.

"You can tell us, you know," the other agent added. Rose nearly puked at how soppy it sounded.

The musician hesitated before opening his mouth again. "Did you guys have a moment during your childhood when you realised the world is all that bad?"

Rose stiffened.

"That would be the ending of your childhood," Hunter said.

Greyson looked down at the dirt ground and kicked at a stone lying by his feet. It scruffed across the dirt and landed somewhere in the grass. "I know it would be a bit late for that, considering I'm practically a young adult now, but I just realised it."

Rose nearly rolled her eyes, but something in her told her otherwise. They remained silent, a sign for him to go on.

"It's just, you know, I've never really seen for myself how screwed up this world was until this extreme example of a stalker killed a man just for kicks. It still gets to me. But what I'm trying to say is, I finally understand this... industry, why you guys do what you do and are the way you are."

He looked at Rose. "And you're right... I have to learn to fight for myself too. I'm going to try, Rose."

She stared back at him, at a loss for words.

"So..." he took a deep breath, looking at the two of them. "Can you guys train me?"

"Definitely!" Hunter replied immediately, too enthusiastically, while Rose remained speechless. "From now on, you'll have to go through gym training and other regimes and the motions."

Greyson looked a tad alarmed, but the smile on his face overtook it. "Um, great!"

"Alright, we start tomorrow." It was the first thing she had said, and Greyson glanced at her in surprise. She didn't want to show too much emotiveness. She took the bottle and poured vodka into both the shot glasses, taking one for herself and handing the bottle to Hunter.

"Drink?" Hunter tried again, pressing the shot into Greyson's hand.

Greyson looked down at the glass still in his hand for a moment.

Rose raised her glass and Hunter raised his bottle, both of them waiting for Greyson to complete the action that meant a little more than just simply a toast. The musician finally raised his glass as well, and the three clinked their glasses together.

Hunter and Rose downed unhesitant swigs, while Greyson first raised it to his mouth and took a cautious sip. It tasted like very fizzy juice, with a slightly funny twinge, burning down his throat. He felt the bubbles fizz up to his head and explode in little fireworks. It took a while to hit him but when he took the whole shot, the sensation increased in intensity and he felt more like he could take on anything.

Hunter smirked. "Good?"

Greyson grinned. "Very."