AN: How goes things, Kats and Kittens? Just a little added scene, here. Thought there should be one more little get-together between El Mariachi and Sands. I've been watching the movie non-stop for a while . . . Why do I never hear about movies until they've been out for a couple of years or so? . . . Oh well. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own the movie Once Upon A Time In Mexico. I do not own the characters of the movie Once Upon A Time In Mexico. How depressing . . .

Last Shot Fired

The blood drips down over the man's sharp cheekbones and disappears beneath his chin, a dark pair of sunglasses the only shield between his torn, gushing eye sockets and the open air. The Spaniard can do nothing but stare at all that remains of the agent leaning weakly against the stone wall before him. His arms are crossed loosely, and his chin is dropped, nearly resting on his chest.

Despite his blindness, the Mariachi is sure the American is fully aware of his presence.

He steps forward until he is standing directly in front of Sands, barely an inch of space between them. Slowly, he reaches up and places one finger on the bridge of the other man's nose, intending to slide the shades downward to better see the gaping wounds that used to hold his perfect, chocolate eyes.

Sands turns his head defensively and attempts to twist away as the Spaniard pins him against the wall, but the Mariachi holds him tightly, forcing him still. Soon, the man's strength diminishes, and he can do no more to fight his way out of the situation.

Slender, calloused fingers slide gently across the C.I.A. agent's jaw, slowly turning his face back into the other man's view. Again, a finger is placed on the bridge of his nose, but this time it hesitates, seemingly waiting for permission.

The sightless man swallows audibly, making no movements to prevent the Spaniard's actions. He feels the sluggish tug of his sunglasses being pulled downward to the end of his nose, curious in the silence that follows. A slight movement from the other man, and, suddenly, there is a soft puff of air on his left ear.

"Was it worth it?" The Mariachi's lilting accent whispers, and Sands cannot help the smirk that follows.

"It always is, isn't it?"

A deep chuckle, and the man is gone, his footsteps the only sound until they fade into the wind and become but a memory.

AN: Comments? Questions? Vague disregard to any or all words written and established in the mind of one who has no sanity?

Short? Yea, sorry about that. There wasn't much more that I thought needed adding. So, there you go. Hope you liked! Wasn't intended to be slashy, if that's what you're thinking, but if that's how you perceived it . . . Okay.