• Her lips gently caressed his with a playful nibble, leaving a maroon smear as her mark. She grinned widely as she lifted her right leg and pressed it against his side, bright moonlight glistening in her piercing blue eyes. He, of course, wasted no time to take her exposed thigh into his left hand, giving it a firm squeeze with an equally enthused grin. He wrapped his free arm around her waist, pulling her warm body against his, smashing his lips into hers; driven mad by her simple teases. She kissed back, hesitantly at first, but slowly gained more confidence and pursued the same goal in which he was also after. Sensing her submission, he let his right hand slip down to cup her rear and grip it firmly, and that's when she took the shot. Her hand slowly slid down her elevated thigh, wrenching her velvet red dress up higher until her fingers grazed her toy. And at the moment the man gave her rear a second squeeze, she heaved it from her undergarments, swung it forward, and murdered the man. As his lifeless body hit the ground with a silent thud, she leaned forward and ripped the blade from his gut. "Scum..." she muttered as she wiped her shining blade free of filthy blood on his shirt before placing it back on her thigh. Her job done, she casually fixed her hair, making sure it was in perfect order, then left the room without a second thought on the matter.

    "And the breaking story tonight, another murder here in Paris. The body was found today with just a single stab wound to the chest. Police believe this attack may be connected to the recent death of--" the news broadcast came to an abrupt stop as a man reached out and switched the television set off. "Good work out there. Target's dead. Cops think the mob did it. And we get paid. Which means, you get paid. Fantastic world we live in, eh?" spoke a man as he circled the kitchen table, cigarette burning fiercely between his lips. He stopped, turned towards the brunette assassin, and plucked the cancer stick from his mouth. He grinned, flicked the ash from his nicotine, reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of money. No words escaped the woman's lips. "Ten.... Twenty.... Thirty...." he counted, beginning to circle the woman once again. "Seventy.... Eighty.... Ninety..... And... One hundred," he said as he tugged a few bills from the wad and tossed it onto the table. "Pleasure doing business with you, miss," he said with a grin as he turned and left, escorted by three armed guards. She watched him leave, then plucked each bill up from the table and placed them into her coat pocket. No names exchanged, no personal relationships formed. Only the absolute necessary was exchanged. Just the way she liked it. "Indeed, it's always a pleasure, mussier," she said as she stood, picking up a briefcase as she did.

    "And she's buyiiing the stairway... to heaven~" blared her car radio as her car drove over the rough cobble stone driveway. And as her car came to a halt, she let off an exaggerated sigh. She glanced over to the passenger seat, eying the briefcase a bit, then let off a slight smile and got out of the all too ordinary car. Leaving the briefcase in the car, she turned and moved to enter her home. And before her soft knuckles could even graze the wooden door, it swung open, taking her by surprise and robbing her of her breath. Before she could catch herself, she was taken into yet another mans' arms and pulled in. Tired lips met her soft red ones in a long awaited kiss, giving her no time to react in any other way besides giving in. "I've missed you," spoke the man in a low, gruff, tone. His arms lowered to her waist, holding her loosely so he could get a better look at her body. "Glad to see they didn't touch you," he said with a reassured smile and nod. She leaned back, letting his arms keep her from falling, and smiled back at him. "Of course they didn't, baby. You know I wouldn't allow that," she said in a soft mutter as she leaned forward and pecked at his lips. Her hand found his, and elegantly took it into itself, then led the man into the bedroom. "I got paid today, baby," she informed. "Then we should celebrate," he grinned, knowing very well where this was heading.

    His shirt ripped from his body with marvelous speed, her dress shed from her curvy body, his pants was quickly discarded, and then.... 'Ring ring..... Ring ring.... Ring ring.... He glanced up, cursing the phone for ruining the moment, then turned back to his woman. "Let it ring..." he begged, his brows scrunched. "Just this once... Please," he said as he placed a tender kiss atop her bare neck, his hands roaming. She hesitated at the sound of the phone ringing, knowing very well who it was; her paycheck calling her to work. "I can't, baby, you know that," she sighed as she crawled off of him and wiggled her way over to the bedside phone. Defeated, he sighed and climbed out of bed. He didn't bother looking at her while he collected his scattered clothes, he knew she wouldn't respond anyway. She glanced at him, apologetically, then returned to her phone call like he predicted.

    "Hello?" "We have a problem," spoke the voice, not bothering to introduce itself. "What?" "....It was the wrong target," said the man, rather hesitantly. She paused, not knowing what to make of the man's words. Maybe it wasn't who she thought it was. Maybe it was some cruel prank. Or maybe it was the Targets' men, getting back at her out of desperation. Or perhaps she had actually fallen asleep hours ago, and all of this was just a freaky dream. Yeah, that's it... Just a dream... Simple... Safe... Dream... "Did you hear me? Hello? God damn it, woman! You killed the wrong ******** person! The least you could do is step u--" "Yeah, yeah, I'm here," she started, beginning to get rather annoyed with this man on the phone, "I'll get on it right away." "Yeah, you better," yelled the man, followed by a loud click and than a dial tone.

    How could this be happening? How could she have hit the wrong target? She did everything perfectly. She followed every guideline, every stipulation. Truly a textbook hit. Yet her client was sure that she had killed the wrong man. Impossible; simply impossible. There was something going on here, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Something was going to happen, and every instinct she had screamed at her to stop the car and run. But curiosity got the better of her, the need to do everything perfectly. And so she drove on, on into the darkening night, into God knows what awaited her.

    "I thought you said you took care of it," spoke a rather raspy voice; probably worn from years of heavy drinking. "I did. I followed the information given to me and did what was as--" she was cut off by a loud slam as the man pounded his fist against the steel table in front of her. "Don't try and dump the blame on us, miss Robin!" snapped the man, teeth bared like a mad dog. Robin's eye twitched as the man spoke her name. "I'm not dumping the blame, I'm rightfully placing it. You gave me faulty information. I did my job, don't try and pin this s**t on me!" she barked back. "That's enough!" broke in a third voice; another man. From behind the shadows of the far corner of the room, stepped forward a tall man. He was visibly younger then the first, and was probably the brains of the show, judging by the amount of persuasion he held over the other man. "We don't have time to sit here and argue anymore. We need that man dead, and we need him dead now. This little.... accident... gave him a nice little wake up call. He knows we're coming. So you better be as good as you say you are, miss Robin," said the man as he casually made his way over to where she was seated comfortably. "And if you're not, I believe you owe us a nice chunk of change," he muttered, leaning over the chrome table, placing his palms flat against the surface to prop himself up. "You'll be briefed shortly by one of my own. After that, you get to work, agreed?" he spoke like she had much of a choice. "Let's just hurry up and get this over with."

    "Baby?" called the young assassin as she opened the front door of her home. She took a cautious step inwards, she knew there was nothing to fear here, it was just a bit of her instinct showing. "Baby, where are you?" she called once again as she stepped deeper into her lair. "Yeah, I'm in here babe," called a man from the bedroom. Robin let off a exhale, finding comfort in the man's deep, raspy, voice and quickly hurried up the stairs to her bedroom. "Hey, baby," she whispered as she pressed her body against his and pecked at his lips. She let her arm slip around his waist as her blue hues slithered up and down his form. How do you feel about taking a vacation, baby?" she asked, her cherry lips smiling contently. "Vacation? To where?" he asked, a bit shocked by the sudden mood she was in. He wasn't expecting such a loving tone from her, since she was called in earlier that day. "What happened at work?" he asked as he shifted in her arm to wrap his arm around her waist as well. "Apparently, the Target is still alive," she admitted with a groan. She sighed and stepped past the man, deeper into the bedroom. She stepped up to her dresser and stared into the large mirror that was fitted into the wall. "I know," muttered the man after a long pause. "Yeah, well, they want me t--" she stopped herself, mid-sentence to think a bit. "How do you know?" she asked as she slowly turned to face her husband. And as a very familiar clii-ii-iiiii-ick~ rang through the air, her eyes widen with horror and shock. "Baby... What are you..." she started, unable to finish her sentence. "Sorry, babe," spoke the man. "It was fun while it lasted, but I'm afraid everything comes to an end eventually," he said as his finger tightened around the trigger of his polished gun.

    Bang bang bang!

    Three shots blew through the air, one right after the other. Just as the man shifted his body to fire, Robin lunged to the side, diving behind the Queen sized bed for cover. The mirror she was just starring into shattered into a million pieces as the three shots blasted through the reflective glass, raining shards over her head. Instinctively, she reached down to her thigh, yanked up two of her blades, and whipped them under her bed. They streaked the air in a single file line until they found their mark. The first blade met its' mark; the mans' ankle. And as he fell to his side, his shoulder bashing against the hard wood floor, the second blade found its' mark; the top of his head. After a few seconds of simply sitting, Robin slowly peeked out from behind the bed, making sure he was dead. Sure he was, she slowly got up and made her way over to him. She soon fell to her knees, her soft hand landing gently over the mans' face. She had never felt sorry for killing someone in the past; never had trouble sleeping at night, no mercy at all. But now, now she could feel herself falling apart. "Baby... Baby, why?... she cried as she leaned into his lifeless body, letting tear after scorned tear fall onto his still chest.

    As storm clouds began to falter, and heavy rain drops began to cease, a young woman stepped off of a plane. She walked with such grace, such elegance, that it was almost a bit eerie. Piercing blue eyes accompanied by cherry lips gave their thanks to the pilot as she began her walk across the runway. The airport in Hawaii was amazingly beautiful. Trees and plants surrounded the area, giving the scene a very welcoming look. So much life here, what an ironic place for someone to be hunted in. She was going to enjoy this one, she would make them pay for her lovers' death. She didn't know if they were to blame, but it sure as hell made her feel better to put the blame on them.