SHARP LIKE KNIVES

Alexia gasped as she landed hard on her back, a stab of pain shooting through her shoulder from the impact. Her head ached where the metal rings had knocked against her skull. Thankfully, none of them had broken, reminding her that she could use them, but she would not pull them out of her hair.

Not yet.

The patches on her skin had split though. She could feel the liquid snaking a cold trail down her neck and behind her ears, but the ones on the hem of her jeans were still intact, ready and waiting if she needed.

She could hear gunfire, but she had to believe that Michael and the others would be okay, her attention focused on Twin. She forced herself to roll onto her stomach, pushing herself up even though her arm shook from holding her weight. She forced herself to stand, taking deep breaths as she stumbled. Twin pushed himself up too, a little steadier than her as he straightened to stare with those green eyes. He wiped blood from his grinning lips, spitting it from his mouth. 'Still a little sore, child?' he asked as they circled each other, sidestepping, the distance between them never changing as their boots squelched in the mud of the bayou.

'Can hardly notice it,' she lied, hands still at her sides, her fingers begging, flexing, wishing that she had her rings on so that she could tear him apart. Michael had not seen the modifications that she had made to them – none of their team had – but she would only use them as a last resort.

He smirked, reaching into his sleeves to pull out the knives.

Butterfly knives.

She stared at them, watching as he flicked them open with the same sequence of tricks she always used. She kept staring, watching the metal flash in the sunlight, the blue in the handles shining, almost iridescent.

'Do you like them?' he asked, flicking them again before he held them in a fighting grip, fingers flexing. 'They're model 51's. Absolutely beautiful, aren't they?'

They're my knives.

He smiled a strange smile before as he lunged for her, slashing across. She felt the blades graze the material of her shirt, the wind from it cold against the skin the cuts exposed.

He'd just missed her, and he was holding back.

She ducked beneath his arm, sweeping her heel down and onto his shoulder. He cried out in pain, dropping one of his blades, unable to reach it before she had kicked it away. She landed another kick on his shoulder and swept her hand out, grasping the blade that fell from her boot, the backing that had held it in place dislodged from the force of her kick. She flicked it open, only able to cut a shallow line down his back before he dropped forward and rolled away, on his feet again to block her next attack.

She lashed out but missed, using his focus on the blade as a distraction as she slammed her hand into his ribs. He crumpled but still fought, the blade swiping against her ankle, cutting the anklet that held one of her vials, just nicking her skin. The vial dropped into the mud, buried beneath it as she flipped back to avoid the blade when he swiped again.

'You're quick,' he said, lunging though she parried, each time trying to knock his blade from his hand or slice his fingers to make him release it, but he held fast, always keeping the hand holding the knife just out of reach.

Alexia clenched her teeth as his blade sliced across her free hand, blood tricking down her fingers, her quickened heartbeat doing nothing to stem the flow. She hissed as she clenched her fist, ducking to doge another attack while she pulled some of the torn fabric from her shirt off, wrapping it around her hand before she lunged again, surprising him when she dropped, sweeping her foot out again, heel connecting with his thigh.

The backing was jammed.

'That was a neat trick before, hiding your knife like that,' he said through clenched teeth as he stepped back, one hand moving to rest over the impact point. 'I guess you were hoping to make it two against one.'

'It would have been good to switch the odds,' she said as they began to circle each other again.

He lunged first and she dodged, not noticing that his hand had swept out until it was too late, fingers ripping down her back to dislodge the practice knife from her bra, sending it straight into the mud. He pushed her hard and she stumbled, giving him a chance to sweep it from the ground. He flicked it open, smirking. 'Let's keep it even.' He threw it through the trees and deep into the bayou, the sound of it as it hit the water echoing, followed by the hiss of disturbed animals and the growls of alligators.

'You have the same blades as me,' she said, trying to keep him talking as the staccato gunfire continued, none of the bullets reaching them out the back of the house, distanced from the structure as their fight took them further into the trees and the bushes, the mud a little thicker with every step.

'These are a particular favourite of mine,' he said, hiding a flinch behind his sick smile as he rolled his shoulders. 'Yours too, I see.'

'Why?' she demanded. 'Why do you have the same blade?'

He shrugged. 'Similar tastes.'

Her stomach churned. 'I'm nothing like you,' she snarled, wanting to hurl more and more with every second he held her gaze. 'I was never, nor never will be anything like you.'

'Keep thinking that. You may not be like me, but you will be like your father one day.'

She wanted to scream. 'My father was not a psychopath.'

'You know that envelope, the one that I have been coveting, that you have withheld from me?' he said, easing a little closer as they circled, though she matched him with a step back, determined to keep the distance unchanged. 'Did you notice that it seemed a little old, a little worn and just so slightly crumpled?'

'If you knew what was inside, why did you need to get it off of me? You must have had the formula.'

'No, no. It was my brother who was the expert in that field, blood thirsty enough for it, but that is not the point. I needed the formula so that I could pay a lab a nice fee to make it for me, to alter the virus and make it an epidemic, one that would be oh so terribly difficult to stop before it had sent the world crashing into havoc and violence and rage. That was why it was so brilliant, the best reason to convince your father to come back to me. He had made it, but had hidden it, knowing that one day he would be tempted.' The smile curled, crueller than ever. 'It was the thought of unleashing it that nearly brought him back to me before he crashed, but then he'd always believed it didn't quite have the…personal touch he liked to have in death. I guess it wasn't convincing enough.'

She screamed, leaping forward, running her blade along his arm, dodging before she lunged again, but this time he caught her. He wrapped his fingers around her neck, flicking the blade around. She saw the flash of metal and reacted on instinct, kicking as she arched her back, sending him flying away from her as she dropped to the ground, straight onto her injured shoulder.

She cried out in pain before she rolled onto her back, the hissing and growling of alligators louder, as though they were answering her cries. They were moving closer now, moving through the bayou and the greenery around them, but they were the least of her problems.

Twin was winded again, moving slowly, one of his ribs fractured from the impact. Still he managed to stand with laboured breaths, but she was already up and freeing her hair from the silver rings and quickly pushing them onto her fingers, the blood that had trickled down one of her hands making it easier.

He held his knife tight, one hand wrapped around his ribs, though he still mustered a deranged smile. 'Is this really the right time to accessorize?'

She sprinted toward him, darting to the side to avoid his blade before she landed a solid fist to his spine. Another punch, his cry of pain wrenching from an aching chest as he stumbled forward. She waited for him to face her before she pressed her hands together, the little blades glinting in the light as they sprung from their sheaths.

'Another neat trick,' he said, smirking as he dropped a little lower, 'but it won't help you.'

She stood her ground as he sprinted toward her, sidestepping to grip his hand, the little blades embedding in his skin until he dropped his butterfly knife with a cry, another slipping from him as she sliced his face, adding a couple more cuts to his lips before she gripped his shoulders, flipping him hard onto his back.

And somehow he still brought himself to his feet, but she managed a smile as she stared at him, though she could not muster the insanity within his grin. 'That's a nasty toy. We're supposed to be bonding, dear Alexia, not slicing and dicing.'

'You seem to know a lot about me,' she said, ignoring him, her breaths a little heavier from exertion. 'You even know my name, though that is no surprise considering you're my uncle, but I wonder if you know the name I am famous for.'

He flicked his knife, readying to attack. 'Shadow Viper. A little uninspired if you ask me.'

'You obviously do not know the reason behind it,' she said, bringing her hands up to show him her palms. The blades were coated in blood, but that was not what drew his attention. He was focused on the small pieces of shredded plastic that had one covered the blade in its sheath, sealing it and something else in.

For the first time, his smile faltered.

'…You–'

'Yes.'

'But there are cuts on your hands. You'll be poisoned too.'

'Ah, but that's the thing. I didn't earn my little alias simply because I use poison, but because I am a master at using it, at creating and altering it in any way I please. Yes, the poison has mingled with the blood on my hands, but this poison has a very specific need,' she said, feeling a small smile pick up the corners of her lips as his continued to disappear with every word. 'This poison in particular really loves saliva.'

Twin swiped his hand over his mouth, looking at the blood that coated his fingers from the cuts she'd just sliced in his lips. He spat, hacking up what he could, but she just shook her head as he swayed a little, dropping to his knees as he wiped more blood from his lips.

'It's too late. There is some already working its way into your system, slowly incapacitating you, though it will not kill you. Not unless I give you a higher dose.'

He looked up at her, his head looking heavy as he slumped, lying on his back, still staring up at her. 'No,' he muttered, trying to stand up again, but his he could hardly roll let alone support the weight of his body. 'How could you?'

'You threaten the lives of everyone in the United States and beyond with your virus and then you threaten my friends. If they have even been scratched by a bullet when this is all over, I will subject you to all of the effects of the poisons I have, and you will scream in pain for every minute of it, cursing every time I force you to swallow the antidote so I can use another.' She moved forward, slamming her foot into his ribs, hoping her foot had just hit the one she had fractured. He cried out in pain, none of the smugness in the green eyes far too like her own, the frightening smile gone from his lips.

'Please!' he screamed as she walked away. 'Alexia, why would you? You're not like me…not like me…my daughter.'

'Good try uncle.' She went to kick him again, leaping back as an alligator broke through the nearby trees to snap at Twin. He screamed as it sank its teeth into his side, but it only grazed him, pulling the shirt away from his broad body before it lunged back. She scrambled back, horrified as her eyes locked onto a spiral scar and a tattoo that stood out against his toned skin in simple black ink.

Kultaseni.

Finnish, just like her father's family had been, the translation making her scream.

My Sweet.

The alligator snapped again, but this time he did not scream. He stared at her, the green unchanged but the life in his eyes different as he the jaws crushed him, jerking him away, his breath gasping as he tried to reach for her with bloody fingers.

She dropped to her knees. 'How?'

'I survived…ran from car. Hid…Hate myself every day.' He gasped as the jaws tightened, blood running down his sides. 'Don't become me…Love him, more…than I loved your mother…Don't slip like me.'

She screamed as another alligator came, scrambling backwards as more and more joined, dragging him away and into the bayou. He did not struggle, did not make any noise, the only sign of his existence the marks in the mud that slowly faded as it settled back into place, the trail of blood mingling with it. She shot to her feet but was stopped by a firm grip around her waist, wrenching her back into strong arms.

'It's over, he's gone. You don't have to keep fighting him. You're safe.'

'No,' she growled, trying to pull away from him.

'He's not worth it.'

She grabbed his arms, slicing at Michael's skin to spin out of his grip. He lunged for her and she backhanded him. 'He's my dad!'

He grabbed her wrists, spinning her to trap her arms and hands as he put his chin on her shoulder. 'He's not, he's your–'

'Kultaseni,' she screamed, struggling in his arms. 'He had a tattoo that said My Sweet, exactly like my dads with the exact same scar just beside it. Now let me go!' She elbowed him in the ribs but he didn't release her, just grunted with the force of it, so she tried again. 'Let me go!'

Her body shook as she sobbed, fight draining from her limbs as she heard the alligators hissing and grunting, water splashing somewhere behind the trees and bushes. She crumpled and Michael followed her to the ground, drawing her into his arms, never saying a word even as she buried her face against his chest, the little blades on her fingers nearly imbedded in his shin as she clutched at his shoulders. He just rocked her, letting her scream in pain at the knowledge that her father had not been dead. He had been insane, ruled by another personality within his mind that had turned him into a monster.

And now he had been devoured, torn to pieces by alligators, and she could not stop it, a part of her hating that she hadn't really wanted to. He'd left her and had returned only to cause her pain, to threaten all that she loved.

But she still loved him.

Miami

Four Months Later

Alexia stared at the clock beside the bed, watching as the minutes slowly ticked by. She was restless at home. With Thompson gone she was not really a spy anymore, no real desire in her to go into the business alone, not after she had seen what had become of her father.

He had been an operative, and a good one too. He'd gotten too deep though, had dragged himself out too late, his life already changed too severely. She tried not to think of the things he'd had to deal with in his childhood, knowing that they, along with the horrible things he had witnessed and was asked to do eventually snapping something within.

She reached to grip her chest, wishing that she'd never known he lived, that he could have died as Twin, as a man she did not know and trust, but even then she would never have been able to trust a man possessed by another in his mind, not when it put so many at risk. She still loved him though, wished that she could have saved him from the alligators, to talk to him when he was himself.

But there was nothing she could do now to change what had happened. So she refused to dwell, to let the ache in her heart and the shadows in her eyes devour her. She had a purpose, one that was not merely job after job, one where she could help people around Miami.

Alexia rolled over as she heard someone at the door, pulling one of her butterfly knives from beneath her pillow as she sat up and flicked it open, aiming for when the door opened. It swung open, presenting her with a back before they turned and she flung the blade, the man freezing as it embedded in the doorframe beside his ear. He turned slowly, an eyebrow quirked as he closed the door behind himself. 'I guess I woke you then.'

She couldn't stop herself from smiling as he dropped a bag of groceries on the counter beside the door, keys, mobile and shoes discarded as well as he went to her. He climbed over her, pushing her back on the pillow to claim her lips.

'Why didn't you wake me before you left?' she asked as she drew back to catch her breath, fingers trailing over his ribs to the top of his jeans, her hands instinctively slipping beneath his shirt to caress his skin.

He bent his head to her neck, kissing her skin, nipping softly in the places that he knew she liked. 'You looked so darn cute. I just couldn't do it.'

He slid his hand beneath the covers, gripping her hip as his lips trailed lower and lower, a growl of disappointment rumbling through his chest when she pulled his head back up, smirking. 'And just what do you think you're doing?'

He grinned before he growled at her, nearly purring as he bent his head to nip at her skin again. 'You just look so sexy with bed hair. I can't help myself.'

'You love it.'

'I love you.'

Her cheeks still flushed with colour when he said it, and he took the opportunity to kiss the pink skin. 'Say you love me too.'

'You know it.'

'Say it,' he whispered against her ear so she could feel the smile on his lips. 'I love it when you say it.'

'I love you Michael.'

THE END

Thanks so much for reading everyone. I loved writing this, and it was so wonderful to read the comments you left me.

To regular readers, although this is the end of How It Burns, I hope you will look out for my future fan fictions.

I have to admit that I'm already considering writing another Burn Notice fan fiction in future.

Thanks again.

~ Ryuk In Person ~