Hal Jordan Does Cocaine

“Alright, Cyclops,” I said, spinning his chair around to face me. “You got access to the club’s blueprints?”

“Your question offends me… Hiro-kun.”

“What did I tell you last time? I’m gonna bust your mouth open if you don’t start talking like a normal person.” I pushed him closer to the monitor. “Come on, let me see.”

“Copied. This is the main entrance, there’s only one emergency exit and a rooftop access… classic, right?”

“Too damn classic to be honest…” I muttered, leaning in closer to the screen. “Any news of an event or meeting happening there?”

“Hiro…”

Aya was fucking restless, she wouldn’t stop shifting around on the couch from left to right, over and over. Her legs were bouncing like two springs.

“Apparently…” Cyclops’s voice got drowned out a little by the horrible clatter of how fast his fingers were hammering the keys, “there’s only a notice for a ‘family-friendly’ party.”

“What a weird fucking invitation for a nightclub…” I leaned against his desk with my arms crossed, and for a moment just stared at the ceiling fan blades spinning lazily overhead.

“Hiro!”

“Uhm… Hiro-k—Hiro… I think Aya’s trying to talk to you,” Cyclops said in a low voice, like he was sharing a secret. Guy really was living in his own damn movie.

“Ah, yeah. She’s been like this ever since we left the convention… it’ll pass, don't worry.”

“How was it?”

“Like a fucking nightmare. I'll bring you something next time.”

“Goddamn it, Hiro!” Aya said, right on the edge of losing it as she threw a shoe at me. “Can you fucking listen to me for once!?”

“Ah… I can hear you, but wanting to…? that’s another story…” I said, moving to the other side of the room. “You, uh… damn, I don’t even know your name, whatever, doesn’t matter. What do you have to offer?” I asked pointing at the storage room.

“S-sorry?” The guy looked pretty nervous now that I had my arm slung around him.

“Guns, ammo, that stuff. Fireworks, call it whatever you want. How much do you have there?”

“A-Ah that d-depends on w-what—”

“Can you stop stuttering?”

“S-sorry I-I—”

“Okay, no, this is gonna take like a thousand years. Give me the key to the storage, okay?” I patted his back while I held out my hand.

Aya didn’t take long to completely lose her shit and throw herself on me, sending us rolling right over the stuttering guy’s desk.
Apparently the drug had worn off, her pupils weren’t dilated anymore and, more importantly, she was pinning me down way too effectively.

“Can you for fuck’s sake listen to me for one second!?”

“Aah… I’m all ears, Aya…” I said, moving my head side to side. “Can’t do much, after all.”

“I’m gonna break your damn nose in half…”

“What’s with all this… uhm... how can I call it?'stupid shit you're doing'?”

“Hiro, we’re going exactly where Ashley wants us. Don’t you see it?”

“Of course I do, do you think I’m blind? While you were high as a fuck I saw the people at Haru’s stand… hell, I could swear that…”

“What? Double agent?”

“Huh? No, not Haru, no way. But yeah, I think someone fed her the info so we’d bite the hook.”

“Got it… and can I know since when you’ve had that hunch?” she asked, pressing her body harder against mine.
Wonder what the others were thinking. Kinda kinky eh?

“Since Cyclops gave us the con info.”

“Ah, shit, you really are a…” She didn’t even finish the sentence, headbutted me straight in the face, then stared at me, though I felt her pressing less against me. “Come on, idiot, your turn.”

“Get up, I don’t have time for nonsense.”

“You always return the hits, give me a headbutt.”

“How about you save any masochistic shit for later?” I said, just pushing her up a bit so I could slip under her arms.
Yeah, I touched her tits, but it wasn’t on purpose, just… you know, they were there… my hand was there too, I needed to push her a little… you get it, right?

“It’s just… haaa… goddamn it, Hiro!” she said, ruffling her hair. “Look, I’m not the smartest one here, but even I know this is a fucking trap.”

“Yup.”

“Ask Cyclops if you don’t believe me.”

“Hey, don’t drag Cyclops into this.”

“Like you care about him…”

“You’re right, I don’t give a fuck. No, seriously, you're cool Cyclops” I laughed while getting up and wiping the blood from my nose. Luckily she didn’t break it.

“Listen okay? Now I’m the one losing patience, you know!?” Apparently the drug’s side effect was hyperactivity and irritability? Something like that? No idea. “I’ve been following your fucking plans for days and the only thing coming out of this is holes… and not the kind I like.”

“You know I didn’t force you to come, right?”

“You pointed a gun at me.”

“Yeah, and I also got rid of Watermelon Guy, so… we're even…”

“Goddamn it, Hiro, Ashley’s not stupid. Something’s gonna happen and we’ll probably end up full of holes bleeding out in a corner.”

“The other Aya is more tolerable...”

“I don’t give a shit, Hiro, stop dodging what I’m saying!”

“I’m not dodging, I just don’t care.”

“God, you don’t even know if Ashley’s gonna be there.”

“Again, don’t care. It’s the only lead we have and I’m following it. Time’s ticking, you know?”

“So that fucking obsession with Cher is your excuse to drag us into a sure death?”

“Drag us?” I asked while looking where the storage key had fallen on the floor. “I never asked you to come, you invited yourself.”

No idea what she yelled while throwing the other shoe at me, but I can guess it was something about compensating for my dick size or whatever.
For the record: standard size. Measure it however you want.

“Seriously, idiots call this an armory? Only pistols? Where the fuck does all the money go?” I asked, seeing only four crates in a stupidly large room.

“What do you think we are, a paramilitary force?”

“Ah? You’re still here? I was wondering where the annoying noise was coming from…” Not much variety, but you always find something interesting if you look hard: TTI Glock 39. Not my favorite, but pretty comfortable.

“Listen… if we’re gonna—” She took a breath to calm down, apparently it was working. I mean at least she wasn’t yelling in that horrible tone anymore.

“Aya.” I just said her name, cutting her off.

“What…?”

“You really gonna come?”

“Of course I am, fucking retard.”

“We’re probably not coming out of that place.”

“I know.”

“Ah… okay… I get it…” I muttered, checking the pistol. Slide worked, mag stayed locked. Round chambered fine. “You’re not changing your mind?”

“What do you think?” she asked, leaning on the doorframe like a bouncer, just… well, miniature version.

“Uhm… well… look, I don’t usually say this, so you better record it: I’m sorry.” I said, shooting her in the right knee.