Halin almost curled up and fell asleep on her doormat when her key didn't slide into the lock on the first try.
She was used to coming home at odd hours, when she even got to come home at all, but tonight weighed on her like a pair of mag boots. Being the resident braincell in a crime syndicate (and the niece of one of its leading members) certainly had its privileges, but it was nights like this, lit up so brightly by the street lamps and electronic billboards that smothered the surrounding stars, that made Halin reflect on her career. The Don had practically held her hostage as she analyzed every possible entrance and outcome for the heist he had ordered, and she was only allowed to trudge home after her contingency plans had contingency plans. In a week’s time her and Millie would be thrown into the fray, though if Halin's plans panned out, her partner wouldn't have to exchange any bullets.
She tried the key again, and this time managed to open the door with only mild profanity.
Halin didn't bother trying to keep the door quiet as it slammed behind her. If her neighbors had a problem, they were probably smart enough not to bring it up to her. She didn't bother fumbling for the light switch as she leaned against the couch arm. The work shoes took some handling to get off, but somehow her tired fingers managed. She lowered them to their tidy place on the shoe rack but stopped them an inch above.
Her pair of slippers was knocked sideways, as if somebody had kicked the shoe rack.
The shoes made no sound as she set them down, and the gun made no sound as she unclipped it from her side. Halin inched forward, gun ready as she canvased the room. She may be an asset for the syndicate, but there are other vultures vying for her spot. Her fingers inched along the wall towards the light switch.
"I swear to God, kid, if you shoot me, I'll haunt your ass."
Halin flipped on the switch as she shoved the gun back into its holster with a groan. Uncle Khine sat on one of her mismatched bar stools, with something resembling a pack of cigs in his hand.
"That would imply that she can hit you," Millie piped up from beside him, not bothering to turn around to look at her. "She's a lousy shot."
"Just because I'm not the best shot in this star system doesn't mean I'm useless." Halin could hit the target. Occasionally. It was a work in progress. "The fuck are you freaks doing in my apartment in the dark?" She shambled forward to the counter. "And take your shoes off, you animal."
Millie stuck her tongue out, but started untying her boots. "Your loyal compatriots wait for hours to surprise you on your birthday, and this is the thanks we get?" Her heavy shoes thudded against the ground. "Maybe we should leave, Khine."
He was already pressing Halin into a quick hug as he passed her. "Nonsense!" The mirth in his voice matched Millie's. Halin watched in shock as he mosied over to her understocked fridge.
Birthday. She had forgotten, though it didn't surprise her that Khine remembered. How old was she again?
Millie's hand pressed under her chin. "Close your mouth," her friend teased. "You'll catch flies."
Halin stole Khine's seat as he emerged from the fridge. The cake in his hands wasn't impressive: it was small, and judging by the Khine-sized thumbprint on the side of the icing, homemade, but Halin's heart swelled as she caught sight of it.
"Bastard insisted on helping me bake it," Millie whispered loudly, as if she could read her partner's mind. "Should taste great. I wouldn't know, though. Somebody ate all the scraps."
"It's perfect." The words tumbled from Halin's lips before she could think. Khine set the pitiful thing down with a smile, and now that she could see it upclose it was definitely leaning to one side. Khine had the box in his hand again and started removing candles one by one. Millie snatched one from his hand and proudly stuck it off-center into the cake. "Thanks, guys." Halin hadn't had a proper birthday since she joined the Riders at 14, face filled with acne and head full with new responsibility. She couldn't help but feel like a kid again as Millie lit the candles with her half-dead lighter.
"Of course, kid." Khine's wrinkled hand pushed the magnificent cake with an incorrect number of candles towards her. "That's what family is for."
