Those of you who wanted me to write more: here you go. |Db This one's really off the beaten path, has to do with the events of Second City, and...yeah. Sentient weapons, guys. That's all I've got.

It was also written at 1:30 in the morning and not really proofread, so feel free to edit the hell out of it, yes? Yes. |Db

~~*~~

New places were always interesting. He had vague memories of other hearts, other realms he'd called home, but those had been other times and worlds entirely. It was right now and this heart that mattered, and so far it was...well, interesting.

At least it was open inside. Spacious. Plenty of room, once you got past the high, solid outer walls. That was good - he wasn't one for cramped places, and he wouldn't have been able to stay here for very long if it'd been too closed off. No, here it was open and strong, ready for someone like him to settle in and help out. Not many could go where he went and do what he did, so by all rights, he should've had the place to himself.

It was only when he felt the weight of a gaze on the back of his neck and turned around to see the dark-haired, dark-eyed girl regarding him like he was a gunslinger that had just walked into the wrong saloon that he realized someone hadn't quite gotten that memo.

Well. Change of plans, then. Maybe this heart was big enough for two.

"Hi," he greeted her, sweeping the hat off his head and bowing deep. He'd always had a minor flair for the theatrical, though a glance at the girl's expression told him she wasn't impressed. "Didn't know I'd be having a roommate."

The girl's impression never changed.

"Razor Wit," he introduced himself, offering his hand. Might as well be friendly, right?

Of course, it would have worked better if the girl responded, but her expression, her gaze set on him, still didn't change. It was more than a little unnerving. "And you are?" he prompted, not unkindly.

There was a moment of dead, pensive silence before she replied. "I was here first."

Oh boy.

"Yeah," he admitted slowly. "Yeah, I didn't know you'd be here. Look-"

"I was here first." Her words cut across his, and it was the emphasis that made him look at her again. Her gaze was calm, unwavering, and told him in no uncertain terms that she'd been through a lot, none of it good, and compared to all that, removing him would be a walk in the park.

"I know. I just-"

"He's my partner." He could see the faintest lines of an energy starting to swirl around her - a darkness that sent a very pointed chill down his spine. Her words didn't quite match it, though - they were possessive and she was, to be honest, dead creepy, but he could see the emotion behind the darkness: the loyalty, the protectiveness, and the love, all outlined with just a tinge of desperation. She'd put her heart into that of her master - no, her partner - and she didn't want to lose him.

Razor Wit couldn't blame her for that. Wasn't the duty of a weapon to protect its wielder?

"I know," he replied, voice low and calm. "I'm not trying to take him from you. I just want to protect him, make him stronger, the same as you do." Her eyes narrowed and he continued, answering the unspoken question. "I promise."

There was a long, silent pause before she finally nodded. "Okay." It was a crisp, weighty response - she expected him to pull his own weight in this endeavor, and he wasn't about to disappoint her.

"Thanks." There was just one more thing he hadn't gotten answered yet. "So, what do I call you?"

There was a subtle shift in that energy around her; the shadows lessened, and there was the first faint hints of a glow about her. "I'm the Magic Gun," she replied, as though it was the proudest thing she'd ever said.

"Okay, Magic Gun," he replied, trying another smile and offering his hand again, "nice to meet you."

This time, she took his hand and, instead of shaking it, began to walk and pulled him behind her - the first step in showing him around.

Maybe a partnership like this could work after all.
.

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