005. SMALL TALK

S2E2 MID-EPISODE ,
PRESENT ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

▓*ੈ✩‧₊˚. . . . . The Executioner was something else.

Butcher didn't think his first encounter would be so... impartial. She is a supe, terrorist at that, but he surprised himself at how tamed he was against her. Especially since she slaughtered Americans, you think he'd be more hateful towards her, but no. He didn't know himself. At first, he wanted to just come in quietly and shoot her as she slept, if she was that is. Fast and easy. Though he did hear about her regeneration ability so it'd probably would have been a slight tingle to her.

He'll just have to figure it out as they go along.

He shakes his thoughts away as he returns to the task at hand. He had told her to wait at the top of the stairs until he yelled out for her to come down the stairs. She obliged, though she commented he was wasting time. He scoffed at her stubbornness and began to walk down the steps.

Each step he takes is one step closer to his group that waited for his intel on what to do next about the supe terrorist. Butcher implements extra purpose in his steps as he descends the stairs. The loud sound it produces made everyone stiff, knowing he had returned.

He takes pride knowing everyone's eyes were on him as he continues to walk. He passes by Frenchie, throwing him a meaningful smirk. "Just had a meeting with the colonel." He announces as he takes off his black coat and hangs it up.

His teammates, Frenchie and M.M. give each other confused looks as they took in the information.

"Colonel Mallory?" Frenchie's french accent gives his words a small change in the way it's pronounce. It flows unexpectedly well. "Y-you saw her?" He questions more.

Butcher gives him a smug look as he walks to his frame. "That's right, Frenchie." He places a hand on the nape of Frenchie's neck, giving it a light squeeze. "She's gonna help us. We get her the supe terrorist. She's gonna get the CIA to scrub our records clean."

He then faces M.M. who wears his recognizable gold chain that hangs loose on his black shirt. Butcher expresses his next words with his hands. "Get the old Bill off our asses and get you back to your girls." M.M. just looks at him, doubting his words as he leans in his chair.

"How do we know you're telling the truth?"

Hughie's trembling voice breaks through as Butcher slowly looks up. He smirks and swings his arms open. "Well, Hughie. I got living proof."

Hughie looks at him dumbfoundedly as what living proof Butcher can provide. Everyone else halts and looks at him confused as well.

"Oi, cunt!" He yells.

Footsteps are heard coming from behind them. They all turn to see who it was. A woman comes sauntering down the creeky steps. Each step she takes, everyone's breath except for Butcher's becomes more rigged. More in rhythm with their rapid beating heart. Her appearance was not helping the case. Upon observation, she dressed to assassinate, since they knew her as the executioner. Her face remains stoic as she makes her way to Butcher's side.

Everyone jumps and walks backwards to put space between them and the familiar woman.

"That's- that-" A young man who wears a rolled up bluish black flannel with a black watch on his left wrist, stammers over his words in fear.

Eveline looks to Butcher's right to see the petite, slim young man who stared at her like she was Homelander.

She was far worse.

Though as she observed him more. He resembled her brother far more than she wanted. It was like sensing deja vu, you can't help it. The familiarity just hits you like a truck.

He is a tall and slim guy. His choice in simple and casual clothing was her brothers choice as well.

She has to remind herself on why she was there, and not for some guy who looked resembled her past.

"The executioner." M.M finishes for him. M.M eyes her with scrutiny as he walks to Butcher and roughly pulls him away a bit. "The fuck you got her here for?" He whispers with a hint of aggression.

Butcher forcefully throws his hand away. "Don't piss yourself mate."

"Butcher," Frenchie lets out a quick laugh as he tries to ease himself on the situation. "She is a supe terrorist, is she not?" Frenchie speaks up, providing the most logic answer on why they need her.

Eveline scoffs at their arguments about her, talking as if she wasn't right next to them. She fixes her gloved hands as they were falling off. "Look- if wanted to kill you all, I would of done it with a snap of my fingers. But I haven't." She looks at Butcher when she speaks.

Who no doubt expresses his emotions with a smirk. "Aye," He agrees. He gives her a head nod of 'appreciation' and she does the same. "Mallory personally sent the cunt so she is workin' with us for now."

"And that's supposed to make us feel better?" The young man with curly hair, echoes in concern.

"If it's any consolation," Eveline begins with a courteous hushful voice. She turns her body to the scared man. He has a hard time maintaining eye contact with the her, she precives. She smiles innocently as she could but with her reputation, her looks wouldn't be in her favor. Walking a bit closer to him, he responds by staggering backwards. She stops her movements due to his cautious gaurd around her. "I dont see you as a threat." She finally says.

Yet again, she concludes the man is so slim it seemed he rarely ate. As much as she hates to worry about someone she didn't know, she'd had to check up on him if her stay was longer than intended. Maybe she'd mask her apprehension as a check up on a teammate. They all have to be at their best performance anyways so nothing goes wrong.

He rubs his shoulder as he looks back and forth between the executioner and Butcher. "You-you dont?" He questions. His tense shoulder start to fall as he has some type of reassurance that she doesn't want to rip him in half or worse.

"No, of course not." She assures with a care pounding along her throat. She gives her best smile to him which he timidly gives back.

"Actually, none of you," She then says to the rest of the people. "but maybe him," She points to Butcher, who watched her commotion with the young man. She gives him a smug look to which he return with a middle finger. She groans. "Annoying fuck he is. Just- just don't give me a reason alright?" She returns her gaze back to the young man.

"Uh...sure." He agrees with her to get out of the conversation. A terrorist was standing in front of him, of course he'd be timid and shitting himself.

After a tense silence breeze passing with no one speaking up. She whips her head to Butcher. Closing her eyes and exhaling with exhaustion. "Where do we start?" She asked as she opens them back up.

"Glad you ask." Butcher replies. He walks past Eveline, his bulk bicep grazes her small, slim shoulder as he made his way in between her and the timid man. "734 Central Ave. Newark." His says with his scratchy British accent.

"What does that mean?" The young man ask skeptically.

Eveline leans against a nearby wall as she listens to them speak. She also takes notice of the Asian woman and only woman other than herself in the room; her eyes never leaving Eveline's frame.

"That's the address she gave me. It's linked to the blind bank account that smuggled this cunts kind stateside," He tugs Eveline abruptly by her forearm and held an arm around her shoulders. Forcing her against his side. Much like a buddy would do to his freind but in this case, enemies. So his pull was with definite force.

She rumbles a low growl under her throat and throws his arm away. Standing still, right next to him. He likes getting on her nerves huh? She was quite literally on the Brink of making him sleep for eternity.

Butcher rolls his eyes at her stubbornness and continues on to the younger man. "And I'll bet you he's there. Oh my lord. Ain't you twats lucky that I showed up, eh?"

It was at this point that Eveline notices some sort of tense, distaste Butcher and the young man had for eachother when Butcher go close to his face. Either way, it wasn't her place to ask. She was there for one reason and it wasn't to get cheery or gossip with her co-workers.

After an immense amount of starring he tears his eyes off of the man and faces everyone else. She hears groan with satisfaction. "Alright lads, we leave in 10- Oi, E?"

Eveline hears the last confusing words he says and finds him watching her. "You talking to me?" She points at herself.

He looks at her as if she was a deer against headlights. "Who the bloody hell else do I call here by a letter- well aside from me mate here." Butcher tilts his head towards the guy with the gold chain around his neck.

The guy rolls his eyes and focuses his gazes on the table. "Fuck you Butcher." He states.

"Love ya too." Butcher says, smacking his lips.

She lets out an inaudible laugh. Butcher then focuses on her again and talks. "Anyways, when you're done picking at their asses, gotta talk to you. I'll be by the stairs."

Eveline nods, and he left right after. She then stands still, not knowing what to do for 10 minutes. Should she talk to them or should she simply sit and wait?

"Pst." She suddenly hears a hushed voice. She looks around and finds the man with hair that looks like a buzz cut, call out to her. "Mademoiselle, come, come." He beckons with a hand.

Lifting her feet, she walks rather quickly than intended towards him. She stops at the desk and looks down at him. "What do you want?" Her question came out more as a demand than a genuine curiosity at what he was asking. It's wasn't her fault, anytime someone spoke to her. They always wanted someone from from her. Her experiences with supes no less proved her speculation.

He looks at her with understanding and smiles. "Our first encounter was not that great I admit," He begins. "You hold a...what's the word..." He expresses with a hand near his temple.

"A reputation..." She finishes for him.

"Yes! Of course." He says with eager. "I would kiss you on the cheek as a greeting but I assume you're not that type of woman, eh?" He was respectful, she had to give him that.

She laughs with pure genuine as she eases her stiff shoulders. She leans more against the table with one hand and her other at her hip. "No, unfortunately not. Thanks though uh," She halts.

He senses her hesitation on what to call him by. "Oh, Frenchie at your service, madam." He halts for a second but holds his hand out.

She reaches and shakes his hand. "Frenchie, the French man?" She says tauntingly.

He nods his head and cheerfully smiles. "I've heard that before-"

Eveline feels a quick but sudden breeze come at her and finds the woman giving her a death glare as she stands right in front of her.

"Mon Coeur? Mon Coeur!?" She sees Frenchie grab the woman by her shoulder and squeezes with affection. The woman looks behind her to him but quickly redirects back to Eveline. "It is fine, it's alright. We're okay. We are just talking." Frenchie urshes the woman as she holds one final gaze at Eveline until she tears apart their hands roughly and walks away.

Eveline watches her as she walks away. She was gonna be a hassle to her but not much as Butcher was. "...she doesn't like me very much." Eveline concludes.

Frenchie sighs and runs a hand over his short hair. "Admittedly, no one does, E." He says as he focuses on the woman who now sits on a couch.

Eveline watches as he gets lost in his mind until he gasp. Then quickly closes his mouth as if he had trouble on what to say next. "Don't hold it against her, she uh, she's hard to understand. She doesn't let anyone near her unless it's I...don't have a clue as to why."

She takes in the information as she watches the woman as well. "It is highly understandable as why no one does." Eveline responds much like a robot.

Frenchie grabs a pen and flicks it in his hand as he thinks. "You're not a bad person." He finally says as he locks eyes with her.

"Oh yeah?" She challenged. "Tell that to the Americans I've slaughtered."

Frenchie quickly rebuttals her response. "I know that Homelander placed all those deaths on you. I know you only kill if necessary."

She glares at him. Her chest rises and falls at a fast pace. "And you think know me so well don't you?" How dare he act like he knows her best.

His places the pen down and leans back on his chair. "I've read your file, you're were and are a wanted terrorist. It never stated your name though. Only as, The Executioner."

Eveline begins to close up her walls just as she was beginning to open up to the man. It felt like he was interrogating her and she didn't like it, she hated it. "You don't need to know my name, it's not necessary- and I think we're done here." She commands with a gloved hand slamming on the desk.

Frenchie doesn't flinch and gives her smile, one that held sorrow and sadness but with understanding as to where she came from. "Well E. Nice to know you haven't killed us yet." He adds as a last innocent remark.

She simply hums and left towards the young man she talked with a few mintues ago. She needs to cool down and the man seemed like a good stress relief. Not that he was just good for something she needs but his character was interesting. May as well find something out about him.

He sat on a small couch with his broad back facing her. She stands behind him, not knowing how to make her presence known but it seems he sensed something behind him. He makes a quick glance to his right and saw her figure in his far right peripheral. He jumps and holds a hand to his chest. "Oh god." He murmurs.

"Uh I'm sorry," She admits, having felt slightly guilty for scarring him. "I didn't know how to say hi."

"Well," He laughs nervously. "You here now so..." He trails off. Looking to his phone as their encounter was becoming awkward.

She nods and rubs her pale cheekbone. "Can I sit?" She gestures right next to him.

"Uh, sure." He runs a hand through his curly hair. "Go- go ahead." He then scoots over and makes room for her.

She sits on the couch and watches him silently. Seeing how his knees shook as he holds his phone in both his long pale hands. She sees he is listening to a music video. She recognizes the tune coming from his earphones. "You listen to Billy Joel?" She asks.

"Uh," He begins. He looks at her with confusion as he pauses the video. "Yeah. You know...him?" He says with an eyebrow raised.

"Well not personally, obviously," Eveline places her elbows on her knees and leans forward. "but I've heard some of his songs. Not a music person but he comes up to mind." Her brother loved Billy Joel but she didn't say that out loud. She just met the man and he's already reminding her of her brother. It hurts her.

"Cool." He says and he nods his head continuously. He then shakes his head and takes a big gulp. "I'm sorry," He admits as he holds out his hand. "I'm Hughie." He plasters a welcoming smile.

"I'm..." she bit her tongue, not knowing if Hughie should know her name. Maybe he shouldn't, Butcher doesn't even know either. "call me E." She grabs his long fingers around hers and shakes it.

"E..." Hughie pronounce as he lets the name linger on his tongue. "Short for executioner?"

It is short for her name and supe name, so it works out. "Yeah," she finally lets go of his hand. "You can say that."

Hughie face contorts as his eyebrows furrowed and his lips tighten. "Do you actually hate us?"

"Americans?" Eveline says more clearly.

"Um," He gulps a second time and fumbles with his hands. "yeah."

"No," She states with no hesitation. "Homelander dragged the exaggeration a bit but I do what is necessary. If a few Americans die them it was for a definite purpose but not out of hatred for them."

She sees Hughie take in the information as he finally faces her with his whole body. He wasn't okay with the answer but at least she wasn't crazy like Homelander. He scratches the nape of his neck as he tries to come up with something else. "Were you born here?"

"That's enough questions."

"Oh uh-" He laughs. "Sorry." She sees him huddle into himself again and latch onto his phone. Closing himself off from her.

She groans as she encloses a fist in her reddish burnette hair. She didn't mean to sound so rude to him but he was asking too much. Too much curiosity just like her brother. She swears under her breath and stares at her gloved hands. "It alright it's just- not used to small talk or talking for that matter. Usually just get down to business."

Hughie glances at her in his peripheral and smacks his lips. "Got it." He says with his soft voice. His puts on his earphones as he reverts his attention back to his phone.

She stands and stretches her whole body. She glances down at him, watching as he silently sung to himself, humming. She places her gloved hands on her hips and she taps her feet rapidly as she thought on her next words. She just wanted to set things clear with him. "Just to make something clear, who you're talking to right now may not be the same as the one in battle. So I hope you don't hate me when I act aggressive out there."

"Don't worry." He looks up and smiles sadly, waving her off. "I'm used to it."

The kid is nothing but depressing.

Eveline tilts her head and speaks with a more concerning voice. "How old are you anyways Hughie?"

He flings his phone upwards in his hand as he replies. "I'm 27."

He was young, too young to be in the bundle with someone like Butcher. How did he anyways? She was gonna have to watch over him wasn't she? It was clear Butcher didn't care enough to see Hughie missed out on daily intake of calories.

She places a gloved hand on his shoulder with meaningful affection. He looks at her hand and his eyebrows scrunches as if he finally notices her covered hands. He then looks up to her eyes. His green eyes look like they're constantly in tears. "Take care. And eat please, you're kinda slim. Need you at your best when we are out there."

He gave a thumbs up with a forcefully smile and started to put his earphones back in. No one ever asked him if he ate enough, and just that slight concern by someone he didn't know personally made his day just a bit brighter in it's gloomy formation.

Eveline let's go and rolls her shoulder, hearing it pop. She moans at the relief it gives her.

She passes by the other man who didn't acknowledge her in the slightest. She didn't want to force him, and hearing about his family from Butcher. He probably hates her the most out of the men in the basement so far.

She finally makes it to Butcher, who is waiting for her. His Hawaiian shirt was tensing against his muscles and chest. With his black coat not on him, she got a more clearer look at him. His black gruff hair with his facial hair added to his menacing demeanor. If it were shaven, she would be absolutely sure he wouldn't be as intimidating.

He leans with his thick hands behind him, holding onto a table. The veins popping out along his arms, with his legs crossing eachother. The top button of the Hawaiian shirt was threatening to release as it was holding on to it's dear life.

She exhales and runs her hand through her reddish burnette hair, feeling beads of sweat along her scalp. "I'm finished." She announces to him.

He looks at her and hums. "Are ya now? Whadda think?"

"Of your team?" She scoffs. She crosses her hands and looks up at him. "Suprise you care enough to want to know."

His team seems and looks like a means to an end with how tense they are towards eachother.

"A cunt like I, can care E. Even though they're a pain in my fuckin' ass." He responds, annoyed at her questioning.

Eveline looks back and watches Hughie boping his head to his music in his ears. She smiles. "What's Hughie to you?" She spoke softly. Her tone was meant for Hughie but her infiltrated question was for Butcher.

Butcher groans and begins to grab his black coat of a rack. "Is this 21 questions? The hell do you care?"

She follows Butcher as he walks up the stairs. "He seems lonely and conflicted."

He waves off her worry as they continue up the steps. "Not to worry, lad will pull through. They all do."

"Do you even ask?" She insists.

He stops and turns around, getting in her face. She practically was breathing in his own exhales. "Look, you came to do one job. And I pretty sure it ain't to ridicule my 'affection' towards my lot. So you can fuck off," He puts a finger on her chest and pressures it against it. "and stay in your place princess. O'right?"

She pushes his hand away and a slight flick of her eyes go crimson then back to hazel. "What the fuck ever you man diva." She didn't want to deal with his attitude right then and there.

He grabs her by the nape of her neck. His whole palm fitting fully around it. He pushes her ahead of him up the last steps. Almost tripping as she regains her footing. She curses at him under her breath.

"Come on you cunts, we ain't got all night!" He yells out to the rest of the group to follow.

Now that formalities were over, she can get her job done and get the fuck away from Butcher.

And Hughie...good lord Hughie. How was she gonna deal with him?

❪ AN ❫ Sorry this took forever 😅
And just so one gets
confused on how they
got back miraculously.
They drove to the airport
in Fresno, California and
then they took a flight
to New York.

Didn't want to write
that cause what the
hell would they
say to eachother
throughout hours? Lol.
And sorry it's a little slow
paced with rushed emotions.
Trying to figure out stuff,
might change it in the future.

All in all hope you enjoy 😊