[Sodium_noir] Titus and Sugar - "A Gun for any Seaon."

[Jenn]

Titus drove around town a while, letting his head clear, letting the jitters

die down.  Khan Titus now.



Khan.



Like Genghis Khan, only meaner, deadlier.  Genghis Khan on the up and up,

looking to make a name.  Any name.



And a Khan needed a weapon.



Stopped at traffic lights, Titus dug the knife out of his belt, turned it

over in his hands, admiring it.  Hell of a thing, that weapon. It killed

just about anything.  Something like that, he could use.  Myth was a real

powerful thing in the underworld: Rep was everything, and a good rep was

myth.  Khan Akrill did this, Khan Akrill did that.  Well, Khan Titus killed

Khan Akrill's yellow arse and tossed him off a building.  That was myth

making.



Lights went green and he slid the knife back into his belt, got back to

driving, zenning out and letting his mind work on the problem; jus' driving

around till he got to the bottom of his thoughts, letting his subconscious

direct him.



Myth making and keeping the myth, that was tricky.  He was already a

presence, he was already surrounded by his little myths.  His Rep went

before him, it scared many, it bent them to his will.  But it needed tending


to.



Turn left here.



Santiago, now, that old Dragon knew a fair bit about myth making, why else

would he have so much power and so many looking at him like he was the devil

himself and not just another Dead White European?  Estoban… Estoban was a

little shit who hung on Santiago's coat tails.  Wanted power, but only went

about it by kissing arse and chewing down on turd burgers.  No sense of

myth, no rep other than being a slimy little shit.



Turn right here.



Harl, he was a man to talk to, all Myth and Magic and Rep.  Up and down the

East coast sires told their childer, "Don't fuck with the Rav or the

Harlequin will get ya!". And Panic, he had a good eye for a tall tale.

People to speak to, brains to pick.



Go straight for a bit, turn left, pull up, park.



Titus looked out, saw where he'd parked: still very much on the bad side of

town, all graffiti`d shop fronts, garbage bags on the side walks, winos in

the gutters.  The shop five metres down from where he'd parked caught his

eye: Gideon's.  Pawn broker extraordinaire, fence to just about every two

bit hood in the area.  Myth said that he had a box of rings under the

counter; wedding rings, engagement rings, friendship rings… all stolen.  Lot

of pain and loss in that box, lot of people ripped off on the street.  Titus

really hated muggers, lowest of the low, down there with rapists and kiddy

fiddlers.  But then, Titus was the kind of criminal that preyed upon other

criminals, he mugged muggers, ripped off drug dealers, snapped leg breakers

in two.



He'd lit up by the time the shop door bell was jangling and he was stepping

in: dingy dark little place, all racks of `ware behind mess wire and big

padlocks.  And there was Gideon, fat greasy, chewing down on his cigar,

looking like he needed a shave, but before that a wash.  A porn mag lay open


on the counter.



Titus blew smoke, leaned on the counter, tapped some ash onto Gideon's

ashtray.



' Mr Bane,' Gideon grinned, folded the magazine over, ' what can I do for

ye?'



' You now me, Gideon?'



' Not many six-four, two fifty pound guys with a walking sticks in this

neighbourhood.  What can I do fer ya?'



' I need two things, Gideon; one, I need a holster for this, a knife belt or

something,' he placed the Black Jade knife on the table top.  ' Two, I need

a gun.  A handgun, something ugly as hell.  A Hand Cannon, you know the type

of thing I mean.'



' Yeah, yeah, I guess I do, let me…'



And at that point, the door bell jangled and someone else entered the shop.



It was a dame wrapped in a black trench.  It was tied tightly around her

dainty waist.



Even from 20 feet away the men in the grimy store could smell her particular

scent on the air.  Base notes of trouble and intrigue covered delicately by

middle notes of not-so-subtle feminine charm 'n curves.  The clincher though

were those top notes.  One shy outta place frown and eyes so liquid and deep

you could lose yourself for months in 'em.



Teetering on high black heels, Sugar closed the door behind her and flashed

a glance between Gideon and Titus.  She looked about as outta place as a

fish did in the desert.  The only girls wandering the streets dressed-up

nice in this part of town weren't so much wandering the streets as working

them.  The doll looked a little too high-class to be running around by

herself.



Pulling off a small set of fine brown leather gloves, she let her gaze stop

momentarily on the knife laid out on the counter and then onto the man who

had laid it there.  Who could forget a man who looked like that...

The slender brunette approached the counter with something less than the

confidence Titus had seen her wield previously.  Even a blind man could tell


she was shaken up bad.



"How much is that one?"  She asked with a waver in her silky voice.  Without

any hesitation she pointed to a large revolver behind Gideon.  The thing

looked like it was built to bring down cars or giant gorillas.



Gideon sat there slack-jawed with a small pool of saliva forming on the edge

of his crusty lip.



"Oh for Christ's Sake!  I just need a gun!"  Sugar slapped down a wad of

cash onto the counter with a thud and shot Gideon a dangerous look.  It was

the look of someone desperate.



Nothing was worse than a desperate dame.



Titus looked at the gun she was buying, then checked out her overall build,

lingering on a few points.  He did some maths and knew, just knew, he

shouldn't be getting involved...



' Ma'am, I really wouldn't buy that gun.  You won't be able to aim it right

and it'll probably take your arm off.  And it's only got six rounds, you'd

be better with that Browning High Power over there.  Semi-automatic, 13

rounds in the magazine and another one in the chamber.'



As he spoke, he saw another weapon, further down from the Browning.  An

M1911, like he had in the Marines.  He'd lost it in a card game back in the

bad days after he'd been discharged on medical grounds.



Watching him like a fox, Sugar nodded for Gideon to pull the gun from the

it's wired casing and lay it on the counter for inspection. Her stormy gaze

never left Titus' mouth and she ate his advice with spoon.  He looked like a


man who knew his guns.



Grabbing the gun in her left hand she pulled it upright and looked surprised

at how heavy it was in her grip.  With a coyness creeping into her features

she looked down the sights at Titus' wide chest. The back of her mind

tingled when it noticed how little his chest moved.



"Would 13, plus 1 in the chamber, bullets stop someone like you?" She asked

with a curious melody to her voice as she closed one eye to better focus.

"I need something that could stop a monster dead in his tracks..."



"A real brute if ya know what I mean."



Titus shrugged, ran through scenarios in his head.



A monster dead or a dead monster?  How much did she know?  Though some days

seemed like everyone in Gotham new what went on behind the scenes.



' It might slow a... a brute like me down.  You'd need to aim well though,

you any good at aiming?'



Sugar looked up at Titus and believed him when he said it would only slow
him down.  She got the strange impression it took a lot to bring down a
made-man in Gotham.  She was a smart girl who often made bad decisions, but
very little escaped her attention.  Although the weirdness she'd recently
experienced couldn't quite be explained rationally, slowly pieces were
falling into place in her mind.



"Aiming?"  Sugar said as she held the gun out and looked down the sites.  It
appeared as if she was comfortable holding a gun, but the subtleties eluded
her graceful grasp.  Finishing the transaction with Gideon for the gun and
some bullets, she looked at Titus thoughtfully.



"You look like the sorta guy who could help a girl out with that.  Where can
I sign up for lessons?" She added with a wistful smile as Gideon counted the
cash.



"I've seen you 'round before. We get invited to same sort of parties..."  Sugar
noted as recalled the invitations to tonight's round of socializing.  She
was looking forward to being in a room full of people and warding off being
alone.  "I'm Sugar."


Holding out her hand in introduction, she eyed him curiously feeling as if
she were about to try to pet a tiger.

Tag: Titus.
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