“The word you’re looking for is apprentice, Dion.”
“No,” he argues back. “The word I’m looking for is insane, Mercy.”
“Ugh, this again,” I complain.
“Yes, this again! You can’t just zap someone who doesn’t listen to you.”
“Wanna bet?” I ask raising my arm to, in fact, zap my own boyfriend to prove a point.
“I told you I didn’t think he spoke English, I also requested we try a different tactic when you pushed, yes pushed, me out of the way to zap him. Look at him!”
Glancing at the guy shooting daggers at me from the ground, I shrug it off because he was asking for it. “Yes well, I distinctly remember telling you that screaming is the universal language, but you didn’t listen!”
“Christ,” he swears. “Do you always resort to violence?”
“Not always…”
“Woman…”
“It’s the hair. And the tits. Throws people.”
“Uh huh,” he huffs. “Let me guess, you use your attributes to get their attention.”
“No,” I snort. “I use my gun. My badge. But, mostly the gun. It’s a big fucking gun, Dion.”
Kneeling next to the non-English-speaking-idiot I ask one more time, “Is your name Alexi Kosh? Because this photo is a dead ringer.”
When he attempts to spit at me, I slam my hand over his mouth and groan in frustration, “Fucking Russians.”
“I am not Russian, I am Ukrainian.”
“Oh look, sweetheart,” I gush. “He speaks English after all! Why, it’s a miracle!”
Ignoring my gloating, Dion helps the guy up asking, “Russian, Ukrainian, what’s the difference?”
Before they friended each other on Facebook, I took charge announcing, “For starters, Alexi here speaks Eastern Slavic not Belarusian. Although, if you get him going, his accent will sound more Polish than Russian. I’m guessing while he knows how to speak Russian, he doesn’t like that he does. Both cultures have more similarities than differences but it should be noted both cultures are also very stubborn so…”
“How do you know this shit?” Dion asks.
“I know a lot of shit,” I fire back.
“You should also know when to shut your pretty mouth,” Alexi brings to the group.
Facing him I ask, “So you think I’m pretty?”
“When do you plan to handle your woman?” Alexi questions Dion.
“I don’t handle her,” he warns. “But you speak to her like that again, your face will be choking on my fist.”
“He means the Fingering Final Frontier,” I add helpfully.
“Stop with referencing the sex book,” Dion blushes.
“What is she talking about?” Alexi asks him.
“I’m standing right here,” I remind the duo.
“Yes well, I do not wish to be assaulted by this large well-dressed man. Though I do not understand his choice in foot wear, it is not for me to judge. So, in effort not offend him, I’m ignoring you.”
“Do you two want some alone time? Is three a crowd?”
“What? I respect a man in a suit,” Alexi shrugs. “It is a nice suit.”
It always comes back to the suit. “Don’t even smirk at me, Dion. Just sign the damn papers.”
“If I refuse to sign, your woman is going to make my life a living hell, isn’t she?”
“Afraid so,” Dion grins at me.
“Think of me as a dog who wants her bone,” I wag my brows.
“I’ll give you a bone,” Dion chuckles so I gave him a fist bump.
“You two need church and professional help. He needs designer shoes. A man who wears a suit and athletic shoes does not earn respect.”
“My trigger finger is getting itchy, Alexi. I wonder if another zap would make you piss in your suit?”
Sticking his hand out he announces, “I’ll sign.” Handing them over, he scribbles his name, glances at me mumbling, “Fucking American women.”
Eyeing Dion one last time, he does the honorable thing and shakes his hand. Walking away, okay maybe he was limping, we both heard Alexi comment, “Still a nice suit though…”
Pinching Dion’s ass I warn him, “Don’t even start.”
It didn’t need to be said, I knew Dion was going out to buy more suits at the first opportunity.