Who: Laurence Dominic and Kate Hannah Where: The attic of the house What: Standoff. It's business as usual.
Sighing, Laurence Dominic picked up a gun. It wasn't his, just some little pistol he'd taken from the handler lounge. The weight was off, and it felt strange in his hand, but in the end a gun was gun. It'd kill someone all the same. Not that they'd really die, though. After all, none of this was real. Tucking the weapon into his belt, he headed up the stairs to the attic.
Kate had chosen the attic because of the irony, mostly. She knew Dominic was sort of off his rocker (which was to be expected, what with his lover being brutally murdered and everything), so she had some serious moral issues with killing him. Or, as serious as her moral issues got, anyway. Then there was also the fact that she was pretty much trapped in this body until it died, and she wasn't really fond of the idea of hanging in some mob-owned town until Rossum finally got off their asses and came to her rescue or whatever. She'd set up her trap before she'd texted Dominic (she wasn't stupid). She knew he was really jumpy and not in this for the talking, so instead of being armed when he arrived, she'd be unarmed. Unarmed, but with a tripwire set to fire a gun in his general direction when he entered (nice thing about mob owned towns: it was relatively easy to get guns). She figured that'd slow him down at the very worst and give her time to take him out while remaining relatively unharmed.
The funny thing was, Dominic didn't actually want to die. He was pretty damn happy being alive, thank you very much. All the same, he didn't bother with the usual precautions. He screwed the suppressor onto the barrel of his gun. It wouldn't completely mute the sound, he knew, but at least it would save him the trouble of explaining away the gunshot. He didn't want things to be an messier than they had to be. Straightening his tie, he stepped into the room.
And then stared down at his gut. Blood bloomed around the wound, decorating his shirt with red. More than anything, he was surprised about how much it hurt, a sharp, searing pain that bit into his lungs and made it hard to breathe. He hadn't expected that. His left hand, which had been firmly clasped to his stomach, came away sticky. His right, went straight to his gun. There wasn't time to aim, he was losing blood fast, so he just pointed at the biggest target and pulled the trigger, hoping that he'd hit somewhere lethal. "Shit," he gasped and then slowly slid to the ground.
"What the fuck!" Kate gasped, looking down at her stomach as she bled. She hadn't been expecting that; she'd been smirking with the thrill of defeating him before he'd even walked in the door - how had he even shot so straight - she was dizzy. Really, really dizzy. Staggering backwards, she sat down on an old plastic-covered sofa. "Damn it, Dom. You've killed me twice and I've only killed you once, how does that come off as fair?" She asked, coughing slightly as she did - that hurt, ow.
Dominic laughed, his head lolling listlessly from side to side. He always had liked her. The chuckles quickly gave way to coughs, deep, choking gasps that wracked his body, and to be honest, hurt like a bitch. He wiped his mouth, the dribble of blood staining his hand an ugly rust color. So he'd hit her, that was good, meant he wasn't as out of practice as he'd thought. Somehow, that was an extraordinarily comforting thought. "It's not fair at all," he smirked.
"Nah, but I guess life isn't fair." She said, leaning her head against the armrest of the sofa. It was good that it was covered, because otherwise she'd be getting blood all over it. "Thing is, though," she had to stop to gather hereslf together. She felt so sleepy. She hated dying this way. "They're just going to pop me back into my body after this is all over. Tell me what happened, give me my paycheck, and then I'm going to go home and watch Friends on TV." She said, spitting after she spoke. Blood was in her mouth. Great.
"For two deaths, it'd better be one hell of a paycheck." He spoke to her, but his head was facing another direction. He'd started to lose vision a few seconds ago anyway, and at this point he just hoped he could pass out without vomiting first. Closing his eyes, he waited for the scene to restart.
"Yeah," She almost laughed, looking down at her hands, which were folded in her lap and coated in blood. "Yeah." Wasn't going to be long now. Then, something occurred to her. "You know, maybe there'll be a day when Rossum decides you're useful to them. Isn't like you're not in their database. Maybe we'll see each other again." She pulled a face. "Next time, I'm not gonna let you shoot me."