FF: Bullets for my love

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FF: Bullets for my love

Post by Odon on Sun 19 Dec 2010 - 0:56

Title: Bullets For My Love

Author: Odon

Rated: PG-13. Romance/Angst.

Fandom: Gunslinger Girl.

Summary: How do you respond to the affections of a fourteen year-old killing machine? For Hilshire/Triela shippers.

Disclaimer: I do not own 'Gunslinger Girl', no profit is intended in the writing of this story, and the Italian government denies using killer cyborg children.

Send feedback to odon05@hotmail.com. Archiving is welcome, but please try and contact me first. My thanks to Nachtsider for his beta work.
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BULLETS FOR MY LOVE

They'd laugh it off in the dining hall afterwards - the flowers handed in with empty ammo clips, chocolates that appeared next to stakeout coffee, poetry in the margin of an after-action report. Bantered over graffiti on the walls of the Killing House: "H+heart+J. Who could have written that, Jose? Anyone you know?"

"At least Triela doesn't give you these problems," said Jose, as he scratched off the love note with his multitool.

And Hilshire nodded as if in agreement. Smart, proud, impertinent Triela - pining over her handler like a dizzy schoolgirl? No way.

He'd told no-one of the kiss she'd stolen while he was half-conscious in a hotel in Naples, the warmth of her body on his bare chest and the pledge of love until death like a dream, a shock-fuelled fantasy dredged from a mind that's too long listed the acts and excuses of perverts.

The following day they'd collaborated on the after-action report, lying to the Agency and lying to each other. He had agreed not to take on wet work without her. She had promised to share the dangers equally with him. Weeks later when he ran the Killing House weighed down with flash-bangs and kevlar, his guts still burning where she'd pulled out the bullet, Triela had punished him by sprinting ahead, ignoring his shouted orders as she riddled the targets with berserker fury.

The others must have noticed they were spending more time together, but Angelica's death had affected them all. Jean had been seen hugging Rico - an act which portended flying cybernetic pigs, or so Triela claimed. There were rumours that Sandro (it would be Sandro!) was sleeping with his cyborg, and snide comments from Section 1 meant broken teeth in a bistro at three in the morning. If that taboo had been violated Hilshire had no doubt the other Second Gen handlers would follow suit with their adolescent charges, desire jet-fuelled by absolute power and the closeness of death. How long before he heard the all-too familiar scheissdreck: "She came on to me. I was only trying to comfort her. I couldn't help myself."

So he pretends not to notice her overtures; she puts her fists on her hips and lectures him (with historical and literary annotations) on the nature of platonic love and of course she knew he would never do that! He wasn't that kind of man!

(And if he'd replied that he wanted to use her like the worst of those pigs in Amsterdam this proud, impertinent, brainwashed love-struck child would have gone happily to her destruction.)

Her flirting would be quaint in its' inexperience (lines from French movies and classic romance novels) had she not sought his embrace with the implacable ruthlessness of the programmed assassin, striking when he's tired and distracted or his heart pounds with adrenaline. As he stares at the bulletholes where his head had been, as she steps (still alive!) from a shrapnel-riddled van, on endless lonely stakeouts with too much time to think. Or perhaps he is rationalising - maybe he craves her touch as much as any paedophile.

They make plans, urgent and whispered where the rattle of gunfire drowns the ever-questing microphones of Section 2. Steal medicine and a vehicle, study maps of the border, get forged papers from his underworld contacts. As the recoil of the G3 brutalises her shoulder, Hilshire talks of fairytale castles and valleys covered in vine, of a life free from the dull aching fear.

She dreams of dying in his arms on the banks of the Moselle.

But it's all a fantasy - when the hallucinations start and her immune system rebels against the high-maintenance implants, he'll load her trembling body into a stolen ambulance and drive back to the Agency and whatever punishment they decree, all so she can live a few weeks longer.

Her death is an obsession. This killer maiden who's seen tough mafiosi begging as she pushed in the bayonet, smelt the stench as they voided their bowels thinks her end will have dignity. Her blood will be red on the snow, his tears wet on her cheek, the foes she has slain piled in tribute before him. Sometimes she lies on a hospital bed, shining with love for her executioner as he presses the SIG to her eye, firing the bullet that will free her from a drug-blurred limbo where she won't remember his name. Never blind and screaming, trapped in a scorched carbon-fibre shell with the limbs ripped off as he stumbles away through the wreckage, sick with guilt yet ever-so-grateful that she caught the blast meant for him.

Nights spent writing letters that she burns on completion, without letting him read.

She's waiting in the corridor. He places a 50-round box of .380 FMJ in her gloved hand and Triela's face lights up like he'd given her another damned bear. Hilshire wishes he'd not held back on the conditioning - her eyes should be like Rico's, soulless as the muzzle of a gun. Not this burning fervour to throw herself into the breach, between his heart and the cannon's mouth.

"It's all I can give you."

She pockets the rounds. "It's enough."


THE END.

Odon

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Forum Posts : 465

Location : Brisbane, Australia

Registration date : 2010-12-14

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Re: FF: Bullets for my love

Post by Danjo3 on Sun 19 Dec 2010 - 2:06

Like Iíve always said, you can never have enough Hillshire/Triela fics. Good

Your writing style can be a little confusing at times. You might want to use a Beta reader in the future, but it was still nicely done. One small nit pick Ė generally speaking, you donít use contractions in the narrative unless youíre writing in first person. Other then that it was really good. Looking forward to seeing more.

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ďI donít hate him specifically, itís the rest of you selfish adults I hold a grudge against.Ē
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Danjo3
The Voice of Reason

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Forum Posts : 2609

Fan of : Hillshire/Triela

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Comments : OC hater par excellence.

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Re: FF: Bullets for my love

Post by Alfisti on Sun 19 Dec 2010 - 8:13

Really nicely written mate.

The changes of tenses I found confusing I will admit, but I see what you were doing with it as well. It's an interesting styalistic touch, and as a whole I think adds to the piece.

Epic "daww" at the end as well.

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Your lack of planning does not constitute my emergency.
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Alfisti

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Forum Posts : 5763

Location : A Town by the Sea, NSW Central Coast, Australia

Fan of : Triela, Hilshire, Priscilla, Ferro

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Comments : If in doubt, overdress.

Registration date : 2009-07-21

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Re: FF: Bullets for my love

Post by Officer_Charon on Sun 19 Dec 2010 - 19:13

I liked it!

I agree that it might be a little confusing to read at times (I found myself being reminded of T.S. Eliot, for some reason), but that's not necessarily a bad thing. This is a confusing thing, for the both of them. The images and scenes thrown at the reader being reminiscent of the turmoil in Triela's degrading mind.

D'aww without being mushy. It works very well.

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Si vis pacem, para bellum

"The two loudest sounds you will ever hear from your weapon are the *bang* when it's supposed to go *click* and the *click* when it's supposed to go *bang*." -Unknown

"220 horses, I got a gun, a siren, a tank full of city gas. Don't you love it?!" - Ofc. Maurice "Bosco" Boscarelli, Third Watch
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Officer_Charon

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Forum Posts : 1470

Location : Savannah, GA

Fan of : Triela, Claes

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Your character
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Re: FF: Bullets for my love

Post by MP5 on Tue 21 Dec 2010 - 0:36

I can't add to their words... it's excellent.

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I aim to misbehave.



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MP5

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Forum Posts : 1767

Location : Phoenixville, PA

Fan of : Sandro/Petra Fratello *dodges bullets*; Michael and Jamie Christiansen

Original Characters : Allison-Brian McDonnell Fratello

Comments : You gotta ask the cutie before you touch dat booty.

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