Silence Is Golden [BELLE/DOM]

[Ysabelle Bernard]

"Papa, did you turn the gas off? What do you mean it's not safe ...? Papa, don't light anything! Even you aren't that crazy, just shut it off first!"

Standing on one of the ladders, a couple of volumes for the Art Section tucked carefully underneath her strong but slender arms - the telephone nestled between the crook of her shoulder and her cheek - Belle's expression was a weary one today. Sometimes, as much as she adored her hare-brained genius of a father, he worried her. They both liked to tinker, although sometimes Maurice Bernard took things a little too far. She had been beginning to wonder if he'd taken his medication today, when a loud boom issued from the other end of the receiver, startling the brunette into dropping her books.

"In the name of Walt! What just happened over there? You're alright? It didn't sound alright, Papa. Maybe I should come over. No? Well, why not? Oh, fine. Just keep the crazy ideas to a minimum for today, I'm begging you. Alright Papa...I love you too."

Hanging up as yet another loud boom and a whoop of excitement went off on the other side, Belle raised her brows and shook her head, setting the receiver down upon one of the shelves on her way back down the ladder. She gathered up the fallen books - Dali, Matisse, Cezanne; you name it, she had it. Humming quietly to herself, and reaching a hand up to shift some of her ochre locks from her face, Belle began to re-arrange the books into their proper slots. It had been a quiet day for the store, so she was taking advantage of it by organizing the space after some kids had messed it up before.

[Dominic Wolfe]

Ah, the smell of blood and smog in the morning. It was enough to make any true hard ass smile and ask for some coffee.

“What, you want some more?” The snarl tore through the empty alleyway, somehow over the dull grunts of boots meeting flesh and a few low, pain filled whines. “C’mon, you pansy ass! You gonna just stand there and stare me to death?”

With a roar, a large, bloody man charged. Meaty fists swung like battering rams, and FUCK did they feel like just that, as they slammed into his body. Grunting with the effort of keeping himself upright, he blocked each blow, then went to land a couple of his own. With a boxer’s precision, he made short work of the oversized gorilla, and turned his snarling face toward the group of other morons intent on tearing off his face.

At first, the day had gone off just as it normally had. He’d gotten up, scored some chow down at the local diner and met up with his boys in their usual spot on the street. The Hoods, one of Faraway City’s most notorious street gangs, were known for lending their muscle to high paying drug lords and mobsters. They ran guns and- if the rumors were correct- people on the side, selling each to the highest bidder. Money was their only concern, for money bought power.

And Dominic Wolfe, the big, bad boss of The Hoods, loved his power. So, when a local competitor decided to threaten his position in the city by offering their services at a cheaper price, intending on stealing away his clients? War was declared, and the fighting started.

With Wolfe in the lead, using every dirty tactic he knew, The Hoods were winning; having beaten the crap out of most of the morons who’d chanced to show up. But, as usual, healthy wails of incoming sirens prevented them from finishing the match, and Dominic was forced to declare a retreat. He and his men fell back to their vehicles, intent on driving away and regrouping back at their headquarters…but they never got the chance.

As it turned out, one of Dom’s competitors had hired a hit man to sit up on a building and try to put a bullet through his head. Who would’ve thought?

So, it was with some healthy cursing and a pair of nicely broken ribs that Dominic found himself fleeing down a crowded city street. He shoved his way through those milling about in the sunshine, and ducked into the nearest doorway that he could find. The smell of old books and dust assaulted his nose, and he paused for a moment to sneeze. Glancing around, he eyed various shelves filled from top to bottom with various novels, and hurried away from the front windows.

He’d just pretend to browse and hide out for a few minutes. That should shake his tail, so he could get back to the Den and plan a continuance of his war. Who the hell cared that he looked like crap, with a bruise forming on his cheek, his knuckles raw and bleeding and a knife tear in his shirt that was slowly leaking blood? The owner was probably some fat old guy with glasses as thick as his thumb, and wouldn’t even notice he was there.

He was safe…for the moment being.

[Ysabelle Bernard]

Failing to hear the brief tinkle of the doorbell from the other end of the store, Belle was completely oblivious to the man who had just entered, fussing over some more shelves that required re-organizing. It was a few moments work, but soon she was finished, and stepped back to admire the neatly arranged bookcases; perfect.

Turning on her heel with a smile, the young woman had decided to herself that she deserved a cup of strong coffee; after all, it seemed like the only thing that would see her through this somewhat dismal day. If there was one thing in this whole wide world that irked Belle, it was having nothing to do. She didn't cope with boredom very well; at least not after spending the best part of her life reading tales of adventure and fantasy.

As she stepped down onto the main floor of the store and suppressed a soft yawn with her hand, her eyes feeling much heavier - the coffee was definitely calling out to her now - Belle peered around, finally noticing a customer. Perking up as best she could, the woman slipped over to where the man was browsing with his back to her so that she wasn't able to see his face. Since he appeared to be lost, she cleared her throat quietly, deciding to skip the coffee for the time being; not that she minded in the slightest. Particularly if her expertise was required.

"Anything I can help you with, Sir?", she inquired politely.

[Dominic Wolfe]

Fuck, but this was really goddamn embarassing. He was the freaking Boss of one of the most notorious street gangs in the area, and he was hiding out in a book store. HIDING! As if he were some common thug ducking out on a police raid! Man, if anyone else heard about this, his reputation was going to be so freaking shot up, that he'd have to leave the city. Crap, how could he spin this? He'd seen one of the guys from the alley run in here?

And then a sweet, unfamiliar voice piped up behind him, and he turned around in surprise. Hmm...or maybe he'd ducked into the shop to chase some very fine tail. Now there was a story that he could proudly tell the guys.

Slowly, Dominic turned to face the woman fully. With a subtle shift, he brought the lapel of his leather jacket closed, hiding the slits and tears in the shirt beneath. Speaking of cops; he really didn't need the cute woman in front of him to go and blow the whistle on his bloody ass, so he'd try to look as nondescript as possible.

He almost laughed out loud at the thought. Him...nondescript? Oh man, he was gonna get tossed in the slam...

Pasting a friendly expresson on his normally scowling face, the gangster shook his head. "No, I'm just browsing, ma'am," He said, managing not to wince as the cut on the corner of his lip twinged. "You got a real nice shop here. A very nice variety."

Deciding that he'd need a prop, he immediately turned and picked up the first book he saw. Ah, yes...'50 Great Weight Loss Techniques!' Exactly what he was looking for. Crap.

[Ysabelle Bernard]

Belle quirked her eyebrows curiously as the bloke turned about to face her at last, noticing that his lip was busted. She opened her mouth to say something about it, but refrained as he responded to her question in a curteous manner. Well, it wasn't often someone referred to her as "ma'am." Only just managing to contain herself from snorting - not believing a word of it - her hazel eyes moved slowly from his rugged features to the book he was clutching in his hand now. Tilting her head to the side and folding her arms across her chest, she couldn't help but chuckle when she glimpsed the title.

"Thank you", she accepted the compliment of her store proudly, giving the tiniest of nods. "Though I have to admit, I didn't realise men were so obsessed with their weight. You seem fit enough."

She pursed her lips, which were twitching at the corners into a wry grin, her gaze returning to his busted lip momentarily before she caught sight of his bleeding knuckles. She winced, dropping her arms to her sides once more and moving closer to him instinctively before remembering herself and pausing. She pointed to his hands instead.

"That looks really painful. Can I ask what happened? Or at least, get you something for it?"

[Dominic Wolfe]

Hot damn, but this 'playing nice' stuff was giving him a migraine. He wanted to slide right into his normal routine; put on a cocky grin, lean back against the nearest bookcase and let his eyes slide right over that curvy form in front of him. He'd flirt until her cheeks were as red as a ruby, then he'd ask her out for a night on the town. This one wasn't exactly like the tail he liked to chase normally; she was too innocent-looking, with her easy smile and teasing eyes. But damn, was she pretty.

...And damn, did he have to play nice, in fear of her calling the damn cops. GAH, he wasn't going to make it! Politeness? Gentlemanly? He'd rather get shot in the nuts!

Deep breaths, he told himself, forcing his face to retain that mask of casual politeness. He just had to wait it out for a little while longer, then he could leave and take his frustration out on the fuckers who'd chased him into the shop in the first place. He could even give her a partying goose, if he wanted. He just had to play it cool for just a little while longer...

While blushing like a fourteen year old. Awesome, she'd noticed the weightloss book. It was official; his rep was officially tanked.

"The book's not for me," He said quickly, hating the way his ears began to heat. "It's for my...eh...sister. She wanted something like this for her birthday." He was tempted to say that it was for her daughter, but little Lilah had a sixth sense about when she was being used as a cover. His baby had one helluva temper, and even he knew not to mess with her name. Ah, fatherly pride.

When she took a few steps toward him, Dominic immediately stiffened, as if readying himself for a blow. Hell, he didn't know if she were really the owner of the shop; she could be the asshat shooting at him from the rooftop. Where had she come from, anyway? He hadn't heard anyone moving around in the back, and she hadn't been out front when he came in. That innocent face just be hiding something. No one was this...nice. Ugh.

"I...was mugged this morning. Tried to fight back, but you know how it goes." He replied, glancing down at his hands. He couldn't very well say that he'd just gotten out of an inter-gang disagreement. With a shrug, he glanced behind her, toward the front door. No suspcious movement outside. Good sign.

"If you've got a sink, I'd love to rinse 'em out. Stings like fu--er...like crazy."

[Ysabelle Bernard]

"Your sister...wants a weight-loss manual for her birthday?"

Belle's shapely eyebrow arched further, but inside she was eager to laugh - particularly as the tough guy in front of her blushed like a schoolgirl, his face all shades of red now. She wasn't swallowing his lies, but to be fair it wasn't her business why he was here - so long as he wasn't planning to steal or bring trouble. This was a good business, and she'd already had to shake off some dodgey dealers in the past. And by "shake off", she meant "chase with a baseball bat."

"Hm. Odd gift...but I've heard stranger things I suppose", she continued after a moment, shrugging her shoulders and turning on her heel casually, waving her hand and beckoning him to follow her. "Sure, there's one in the back room. Let me just get you the key."

Fumbling around in a drawer at the counter, she retrieved the silver key hanging off a pale blue ribbon and handed it to him, her soft skin brushing against his rough touch for a brief second as she did so. Eyeing the key for the backroom that was now in his hand, she looked up at the guy's face.

"Please, lock the door once you're finished. I've had way too much trouble with thieves lately...", she explained, nodding and taking a seat at the counter, glancing out of the large store windows in time to see some cops chasing after a few men. What a city.

She thought for a moment about what the guy had said, about being mugged; whether it was true or not, wasn't the point. It just proved how dangerous some people could be. Well, she hoped he'd put up a good fight - by the looks of it, he had. After all, he wasn't exactly some weedy little kid. She had noticed.

[Dominic Wolfe]

Nah crap, did guys not buy weight loss books for their sisters? He really had to lay off the family lies, given that his childhood hadn't been as mainstream as everyone else's. Having been sold off to a drug dealer to pay off his drug addict mother's debts, he'd been thrown head first into the dark underbelly of Faraway City, and as such, he wasn't exactly a walking encyclopedia on what was normal and what wasn't.

Hell, his version of a 'happy' family get together was when he and Lilah went gun shopping. Then again, the both of them tended to enjoy it, so...whatever.

"Uh...yeah. She's big on the weight loss stuff. Must be a girl thing," He said with a nonchalant shrug. Then, realizing that he was indeed talking to a girl, he bit back a sigh. Damn, he really did hate this small talk crap, even if the girl doing the talking was a sweet little thing. Give him a gun and a skeemask anyday.

When she started talking about trouble with thieves, the gangster had to duck his head to keep her from seeing his amused grin. If only she knew who she was talking to, he thought with a low chuckle, once he was through the previously locked door. With a slow, loping stride, he strolled into the small bathroom and shoved his hands under a blast of cold tap water. Ah, the sting felt nice; it took his mind off of how he'd wanted to snatch that tiny wrist and haul her up for some...nah shit, he'd really have to get on down to the District for some fun, after this. Sheeze, talk about pent up frustration or something. God.

After cleaning up his bloody hands, dabbing at his lip with a wet towel and making sure that his leather jacket stayed closed around the various cuts and tears in his undershirt, he moved toward the front room. Hell, he'd have preferred to stay right where he was, given that the main room had all kinds of windows, but he doubted that the proprietor would appreciate his squatting in her bathroom. So, after locking the door as instructed, he moved over to where she sat.

"Thanks, Ms...eh...Belle?" He remembered the name of the shop and nodded at the sign on the door, after handing her the key. "This your place?"

[Ysabelle Bernard]

While he was busy freshening up or whatever, Belle had a small flurry of customers to deal with. Stamping books and giving recommendations passed some of her time, though it seemed that today was just going to be "one of those days." One of those days when time seems to stop and leave you wishing you'd closed up early and hit the town. Hm. That didn't seem like such a bad idea, come to think of it.

When the guy returned from using the facilities, Belle took the key back from him when he handed it to her, and tucked it into her pocket for safekeeping. Her jaw fell slightly as he thanked her, using her name; for a minute she wondered how he knew it - until she followed his hand as he pointed to the sign on the door. She felt a little foolish but shook it off.

"Yeah, it's Belle. Just Belle. And you are?", she replied, nodding when he asked if she was the owner. "Mhmm...bought it off some gypsies who were using it to run a "fortune telling" business or something. Total scam, and a waste of good property."

She gestured inverted commas as she said "fortune telling" with her hands, rolling her eyes a little skeptically but grinning.

"I fixed it up...god knows what they were smoking in here before I got the place. The stench...", she made a slight face, just as the bell tinkled and someone entered; another customer?

[Dominic Wolfe]

Dom had to bite back a grin at seeing that shocked expression on her face. What, did she think he was some kind of psychic? Or psycho? While he might fall into that latter category, depending on who was doing the talking, he didn't think he fit the bill for a stalker of any kind. The girl might be cute, but...psh, he'd rather get pinched for killing someone than 'Peeping Tom-ery,' or some crap like that.

"Call me Dom," He replied smoothly, crossing his arms over his chest. It was nice to see that she was the one blushing this time, and realizing that he was still holding the offending book tucked under his arm, he set it down onto the counter next to her. Weight loss techniques...jeeze. He couldn't have picked up something about homemade bombs, or something. Gah.

Still inwardly gagging at all the small talk, he forced a smile on himself and made a show of glancing around. He was relieved that there were more people in the shop, as they would give more of a distraction to the pretty owner, while he tracked down a back door. "You did a real nice job with the place, I'm sure."

And he'd probably already said that when he'd first come in, but hell, he was rusty at this stuff, man. She should be happy that he was making intelligent words, instead of grunting and snarling as he tended to do to everyone else. When the door jangled again, Dom didn't pay it any heed, instead allowing his eyes to linger on a group of giggling girls browsing a 'how to snag your dream guy' section. The fools.

Rubbing at his temples- nothing got on his nerves faster than teenagers giggling...GAH- he turned to make another polite remark to the owner before moving off to 'browse,' but never got the chance. While he hadn't exactly seen the schmo who'd been shooting at him from that rooftop, the guy in the really conspicuous overcoat who was standing at the door, staring at him and the pretty bookstore owner, did not seem like her normal customer.

He seemed more like the gangster's. Ah, hell, how had he managed to follow him! He'd been so darn careful in picking out his hideout.

Before he could catch it, a growled "shit" escaped him. His mind whirled, knowing that the shooter would try to get him alone somewhere...and that he'd just end up carrying out his job right through the innocent bystanders around them, if the moment didn't come soon. Cops were chasing various guys outside, and it was only a matter of time before they started door to door searches, to make sure everyone was alright.

Hell, in all reality, he shouldn't give a fart whether or not every person in the joint died...but something stopped him from grabbing the pistol tucked into the back of his pants. What the hell was this? Some kind of spell?

Turning to face Belle again, Dom schooled his face to a neutral mask. "I'm sorry to ask this of you, Belle," He said quietly. "But I'm gonna need you to shut your shop...unless you wanna end up getting shot."

Oh, she was gonna take that so well, he just knew it.

[Ysabelle Bernard]

Scrutinizing him for a moment, Belle got the impression that he wasn't all that interested in making conversation with her; it was sort of rude, and if that was the case then he should have just been honest. He looked incredibly distracted - she began to wonder what his problem was. Sure, she could be quite the chatterbox at times, but she genuinely didn't think that she'd been so bad this time around.

"Mm. Dom. Right", she replied, nodding a little and glancing over to the group of teenage girls now browsing and giggling to each other in the corner. She picked up her pen and began to tap it against the wooden counter, the idea of a cool beer seemingly more and more appealing the more she continued to think about it.

She hadn't even noticed the hooded man at the other end of the shop yet, staring off in a dream and continuing to tap the pen upon the wood. It was only when Dom lowered his voice and whispered to her that she stopped what she was doing, finally snapping back to reality and looking up at him, confused. She was about to contest the idea, however the look upon his face was quite grave now and she eventually glanced at the corner of her eye - seeing the unwelcome stranger, who, according to Dom, had a gun. She froze momentarily, then did as she was told, slipping to her feet and looking across at the group of kids.

"Sorry girls, we're closing now", she said to the teens, watching as they gathered their things and headed out the door, the doorbell clanging and the sound of their innocent laughter filling her ears immediately.

She moved carefully around the counter, key in hand, and locked the door - turning the sign and closing the blinds. She stopped in her tracks - glancing over at the menacing figure who remained silent through it all, his gaze never leaving the two of them. Then, she looked over at Dom - the only other person there who wasn't creeping her out right now. She frowned, remaining rooted to the floor, her hands shaking slightly.

[Dominic Wolfe]

Thank God for small favors, Dom thought as Belle ushered the girls out of the shop. With a happy jangle of bells, the place cleared out quickly. And then, there were three.

Without taking his eyes off of his prey, the hooded man locked the door behind him. A pair of gloved hands fell motionlessly to his sides as he looked at the two of them; the mark and the mark's...friend? Fuck, Dom couldn't help but curse; the moron was probably thinking that Belle was one of his topside contacts. If that were the case, she was as dead as he was about to be. Fucking awesome...why did he get up that morning?

"So, how much you bein' paid to off me?" His tone was almost conversational as he took a step toward the paid killer. Subtly, he moved so that his big body was blocking Belle's. He had no idea when he'd gotten into the damn 'knight in shining armor' mood, but hell...even though he was a psycho, he couldn't let the little shop owner die because of him. He had too many damn skeletons in his closet; he didn't need more blood on his hands.

Not to mention that she was frikkin hot, man. He'd love to keep her alive so he could tap that later. Yeah, yeah.

The hooded man- aka 'Asshat' in his sleep deprived mind- was silent for a few minutes, before replying. "A lot of money. You pissed off the wrong people, Mr. Wolfe. You and The Hoods. My employer didn't appreciate having his son's head delivered to his home sans his body."

Dom had to bite back a snicker at that one. Oh yeah; that had been one of his nicer calling cards to his competitor on the other side of the city. He usually preferred the head-butting approach- maybe a few molokov's through their headquarter windows- but he could do intrique when he put his mind to it. He hated politics like a mother, but it sometimes came in handy.
The 'scaring' part of it, that is.

"Yeah, well...your 'employer' should know who he's fuckin' with," He growled in reply. He couldn't see what Asshat was carrying, but he knew that it had to be something easy to get to. While he, on the other hand, had to reach behind his back to get his piece. It would be hard enough to make sure Belle didn't get shot; if this guy were even half as good as his employer hoped, Dom would be dead in a second.

So, cue some jack-rabbit time.

In an attempt to throw Asshat off guard, Dom chucked the previously admired 'gift' at him and grabbed Belle's arm. A curse and a ruffle of clothing sounded behind them, and with a loud hiss, a stream of bullets erupted around them. Without any finesse, he picked the woman up and practically threw her behind the counter, before hopping behind it himself. Gun now in hand, he popped up, delivered a few shots of his own and growled in irritation when the killer dove behind a bookcase.

Looking over at Belle, he hoped that she wasn't about to go into hysterics. "You got a back exit anywhere close? Fucking please say you do."

[Ysabelle Bernard]

Belle watched as the pair dissolved into a bitter war of words - discussing their business, some of which stunned her. She was half-glad that Dom had decided to step in front of her - protecting her. He was probably just trying to keep the casualties to a minimum, for his own sake; by the sounds of things, he'd done some nasty things himself. But she wasn't about to judge him based on this knowledge. After all, now wasn't the time, especially when said "gangster" was the only thing standing between her and a bullet to the head. She felt safer, even although this "Dom" character was still a complete stranger to her.

The young bookstore owner began to think about her life; would she live to see her father again? What about all of the things she had planned to do with her life? It all seemed to be disappearing right before her - how she had ended up in this mess was beyond her. Surprisingly really, how a fairly ordinary - even dull - day at work had turned so sinister.

And that's when it happened.

The sound of gunshots almost deafened her to the point where she was shellshocked. She felt her protector grab onto her and quite literally throw her across the counter, to which she climbed down onto the floor behind the desk, scurrying underneath for protection at precisely the same moment that Dom had followed her. Still shaking, but finally finding her nerve - the brunette opened one of the drawers quickly with her master key, pulling out a black handgun of her own. She exchanged a look with Dom as she loaded the gun like a professional. After the first few attempted robberies, Belle had decided to up her game a little. It was a case of "shoot or be shot at" and she wasn't about to take any chances.

"There's an exit, beyond the back-room...but we'll have to bust the door down", she whispered quickly, her heart beating at about a hundred miles per hour now; adventures? Pah! She felt like she was in one of her novels.

[Dominic Wolfe]

Well, did the little kitten have claws? Dominic couldn’t help the little flash of respect as he looked down at the gun in her hands. Being a woman and alone in the shop for most of the day, he could understand that…but he didn’t trust her aim. Not when a professional was making short work of putting holes in the front counter.

“Just keep that thing aimed at the floor,” He managed to say, over the loud whir of bullets. “I might need the extra ammo later. Now, when I tell you to go, get into that back room, alright? Keep your head down and try to stay behind me; I’m gonna cover you. Do not try to fire, or the fucker will mow you down. Got it?”

Without waiting for an answer, the gangster popped his head up and fired off a few rounds. Asshat was being a bit too quiet, shuffling around with something behind that bookcase. He was getting a bad feeling about all of this. What else had the fucker hidden in that huge ass overcoat of his? A bazooka?

Oh please, PLEASE say that wasn’t it. If the guy had a friggin’ bazooka, they were all gonna die. Dammit, he hadn’t taken over the city yet; he wasn’t ready to die!

With a feral curse, Dom ducked back down behind the counter as another barrage of bullets was shot their way, and cursed again when a glass shard cut at his neck. Grabbing hold of her arm, he yanked Belle forward as the entire case shattered, covering her with his body. The thick leather of his coat prevented any real damage to him, and with an angry roar, he reared up and returned volley.

“GO!” He snarled at the girl, standing so that the shooter’s attention would be on him, while she ran for the back room.

[Ysabelle Bernard]

Belle took in his every word without questioning any of the facts; clearly he had no faith in her ability, and that was fine. She only brought the weapon in case she needed to use it for her own safety. After all, she was fiercely independant, and how was she to know that after all was said and done, Dom wouldn't turn his gun on her for being a "witness" to events? It was all very risky business, whatever this was she'd been dragged into so unwillingly, so the only thing she cared about was getting out alive to be there for her father - if anything happened to her, she knew he'd do something stupid.

As bullets rained down everywhere, shattering the glass from the case all around them, Belle felt Dom push her forwards roughly as instinctively, she began to move away from the falling shards, the man's burly shape keeping her safe from harm. Hearing his yells to go as they had planned, Belle didn't need telling twice.

She half sprinted, half ducked as the shooter took aim in her direction, her heart banging hard against her ribcage as she finally made it through to the back room, charging at the locked exit door and succeeding in breaking it down - gun still in hand and falling through to the other side with a sickening thud. She felt a sharp pain in her right shoulder and struggled to her feet in a daze, waiting on him following and having no idea what would happen to them next. The only thing she was counting on was that he would make it out alive.