CHAPTER 14:

NO REST FOR THE WICKED

On the TV screen, a morose-looking man with dark hair remarked in a Scottish accent, "Every great decision creates ripples, like a huge boulder dropped in a lake. The ripples merge and rebound off the banks in unforeseeable ways. The heavier the decision, the larger the waves, the more uncertain the consequences(1)."

Too right, Hal Sawyer thought as he sat next to Rica on the couch. The heat in Roanapur was worse than usual, and they were stripped down to their underpants, as they sometimes did when it was a hot night in Roanapur, and they weren't expecting any business or visitors. Occasionally, they did get them late at night, but usually, arrangements were made more in advance. Only an emergency would need them to be dressed, and while there were plenty of those at times in Roanapur, this night hopefully wouldn't be one of them.

The Doctor's talk reminded Hal of the shitstorm that followed once they fled Magical Britain, though not before leaving the bodies of James Potter and Sirius Black. After the decimation of so many people in Magical Britain, even if most were Death Eaters, there were calls for the Sawyer Twins to be brought to justice. The Thailand Ministry of Magic, however, didn't have an extradition treaty with Magical Britain, and in any case, few from even the British Ministry were willing to venture into Roanapur. Most seemed to just write off any chance of retrieving the Sawyers.

Dumbledore, they heard, had suffered from a breakdown shortly after they left. While he lived, he had to step down as Headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall taking on the role instead. However, Dumbledore had spent the next little while destroying the various Horcruxes, dying of a curse on one of them, a ring.

Snape eventually came back to Roanapur. The snide, greasy-haired man didn't linger. Instead, he handed Hal an Invisibility Cloak that his father had owned…as well as Dumbledore's wand. Not to mention a rather large mokeskin bag filled with money from the Goblins. The remnants of the Death Eaters' own moneys. He had finished dealing with the Horcruxes. Voldemort was dead. In gratitude, Hal and Rica gave him some of the money they had gained. They also transferred some to Hermione Granger and the Weasleys, if only because they had been friends with Charles Potter, and they had been targets of Voldemort.

Only one fool from Britain tried to beard them in their dens and arrest them. Well, one official fool. They decided only to humiliate him and send him back. There were a couple of children of Death Eaters who came to avenge their parents and Voldemort…but they were sent back in little pieces. Including someone called Draco Malfoy. Apparently he hadn't been at the manor when they had struck. He'd come for them, claiming he would have his revenge. He didn't last long.

The Sawyers' own revenge had left them empty. Not satisfied like they had hoped at the very least. Maybe content, once all was said and done, true, knowing that James Potter and Sirius Black was dead, along with Voldemort…but not truly satisfied. Not as sated as they had hoped. Revenge may be a dish best served cold, but it also sit rather unpleasantly on the stomach once it was eaten.

Still, the void left behind when they had taken their revenge eventually filled back up again, focused on each other, as well as Shenhua, the third member of their unholy little trinity. On occasion, they invited the Taiwanese assassin over for dinner, and sometimes, to join them in bed. It was wonderful that such a glamorous woman would accept them for what they were, scars and inner demons and all. But they were friends, the best of friends, and lovers.

Lately, Roanapur had been somewhat quiet, at least by its festering standards. This was no accident: Balalaika had taken a trip to Japan, and had brought Rock over, with Revy opting to join them, and they had only just come back a few days ago. From what little they had heard, apparently Balalaika had caused the downfall of two yakuza groups, including the Washimine Group, something which had affected not only Rock, but the normally vicious Revy as well. The two didn't really like to talk about it. Apparently Rock had grown close to the heiress of the Washimine Group…and things had gone sour.

There was also a rising new star in Roanapur, the Florida-based criminal group known as the Neveral Cartel. Well, they had been here for some time, but now, they were looking to expand their influence. Hal and Rica personally thought that they were minnows swimming amongst sharks. They weren't so much as a rising star as Icarus beginning to fly too high in the sky.

Hal and Rica had enough money that, in theory, they could buy themselves a grand mansion almost anywhere in the world. They could even hire a small army, and start up their own criminal gang. But while having the money was nice, even great, it was just an extra resource. Besides, spending it too freely in a place like Roanapur would be enticing sharks with blood.

And if truth be told, they liked what they did, being cleaners. Cleaning up these messes…cleaning up the fools who were delivered to them. They enjoyed doing it, it was what they were good at, and they had a reputation to maintain as boogymen of Roanapur. Oh, they were considering other lines of work, like bounty-hunting. But for now, they were content to continue what they were best at.

Some minutes later, the episode ended on a shot of Ace's face, screwed up in anticipation of the pain from the blasters of the Daleks surrounding her (after beating the crap out of one with a baseball bat(2)), and Hal and Rica decided it was time to go to bed. Hal watched appreciatively as Rica strutted over to the VHS and bent over to stop it and eject the tape, giving him a wonderful view of her derriere. She may be scrawny, but to him, she was utterly beautiful.

He wondered, though, should they ever try for children? Maybe they could put aside the money for that, a time when even the macabre spectacle of Roanapur palled, and they felt they could raise a child, and do so without said child becoming as twisted and monstrous as they were. Then again, that day may never come. Maybe all they wanted was each other, and Shenhua, and the Black Lagoon Company, Chang, Balalaika, Bao, and the other criminals, monsters and malcontents that infested Roanapur.

They made love again that night, despite the heat and the humidity. Sweat trickled down their bodies and mingled with other fluids as they coupled, again and again. No words were needed, not even spoken through their link. Just this overwhelming need to be with each other, to validate each other's existences, miserable though they were. They were alive, and their enemies were not. That, plus their twisted love, was more than enough cause to celebrate.

Their coupling was quiet, just filled with pants and hisses and sighs (it was Shenhua who made more noise when she came around for a ménage à trois). They continued until finally, fatigue and post-coital euphoria gently dropped them into the oblivion of sleep. A temporary oblivion, to be sure, but while these two were nihilists, they nonetheless did not believe life had no meaning. Rather, it had only a meaning they themselves could grant it. It was a twisted, broken and distorted meaning, but it was a meaning all the same. So too was their love, grotesque and malformed, but genuine.

The two monsters in scarred human skin slept. Their sleep that night, at least, was free of nightmare, just a pleasantly hazy mist. But even with their revenge sated, nightmares still tended to haunt their minds. Whether that was ghosts from their past haunting them, or just the sheer depth to which their traumas engraved on their minds, nobody knew. But for now, they slept in comfort bliss, close to oblivion…

The next day, business was quiet, as it had been for the past little while (save for last Tuesday, when Shenhua delivered some idiot who had been defrauding Chang: he came in the same way he went out, in a suitcase, the only difference being the amount of pieces he was in). Which wasn't to say Roanapur was quiet. Apparently the Neveral Cartel had gotten into a shootout with the Rip-Off Church and come off second best, as the Sawyer Twins heard from Revy, who had been present at the time (they had met her on the street around lunch). Apparently she was unhappy with Eda for turning away some counterfeiter working for the Neveral Cartel.

The Neveral Cartel never used their services. In fact, they seemed to think they were better than anyone in the town. That alone was an attitude that was going to get them wiped out before long, by either Chang or Balalaika. The cartel seemed to think that this was basically Florida in Thailand, save for their main representative in Roanapur, Lobos. Apparently one of the bosses had come here recently, according to Chang, to supervise some operation.

Then, they received a phone call. Rica picked it up. "Yes?" she rasped, putting it on speakerphone.

"This is Lobos from the Neveral Cartel," came a voice. "Am I speaking to the Sawyer Twins?"

"Yes. What do you want?"

"I know you two are cleaners by trade, but word on the local grapevine is that you wish to break into bounty-hunting," Lobos said. "I've been told to contact as many bounty-hunters as possible for a job. If you're interested, head to the Yellow Flag. Be there by six. Someone from our organisation will be there to discuss the job. It won't be me, though. In all likelihood, it'll be a man dressed up as a cowboy by the name of Russell. Goodbye."

As Lobos hung up, the Sawyer Twins looked at each other. It was true they wanted to break into bounty-hunting, if only because they wanted a little more excitement in their lives. Shenhua had waxed lyrical about her own experiences with the trade. Not that it was glamorous or anything, but there had been exciting times when she had hunted people down when she wasn't working for Chang.

Could this be their big break? Something told the pair of them otherwise, and yet, they were going to go along, if only to see whether this would be any good. Time would tell whether that would disappoint them.

Do you think it's related to what happened at the Rip-Off Church earlier? Hal asked Rica.

It probably is. If it's the counterfeiter they want, they'd better be paying a premium for her. She'd be worth a lot of money to them, Rica mused.

As they made it to the Yellow Flag, and sat down at one of the tables, Shenhua, who was nearby, greeted them, though she didn't use their names. She just said, "Hiya, how are you?" in her broken English. She wasn't wearing the earring today: she told the Sawyer Twins some time before that she sometimes liked speaking in her usual broken English to annoy people and to get them to underestimate her.

As they waited, drinking at the table, Ash's Hand and Mjolnir at the ready, Hal and Rica looked over at the bar, where Revy was drinking and having an argument with Eda from the Rip-Off Church. About what, they didn't know, as the words didn't quite carry, not with the Yellow Flag so crowded. But Hal and Rica were willing to bet, given Eda's presence, that it was due to this debacle they were about to participate in.

Look at these guys, Hal sent to Rica via his link. Is this like The Empire Strikes Back, and we're the bounty-hunters waiting to speak with Darth Vader?

Too many cooks spoil the pot, Rica scowled. They can't possibly afford this many, unless they're paying us chump change. This is ridiculous. Apart from Shenhua, these idiots will cramp our style. I think we should use Legilimency on Russell when he comes, to confirm what we suspect.

Hal nodded inwardly. Then, they'd consider whether it'd be more profitable to rescue the counterfeiter (assuming she was the target) as opposed to retrieving her for the Neveral Cartel.

Eda, apparently tiring of the argument she had with Revy, got off her chair and began walking to the door, an irritated Revy following her. "Hey, before we leave, how about you tell us where we're going?!" the gunfighter snarled.

"I dunno," Eda said in a sing-song voice as she walked by them.

"Hey, Eda! Don't walk away when I'm talking to you, bitch!" Revy snarled, as she and Eda left the Yellow Flag, barging past a man in a cowboy getup. It seemed that Russell had arrived. And, one way or another, tonight's events were going to get interesting, probably in the cursed sense of the word…

THE END

CHAPTER 14 ANNOTATIONS:

Yeah, I'm evil, leaving it up in the air like that. It was always my intention to do the 'Greenback Jane' arc sooner or later, but as the arc itself is a fairly short one, it'll be as a separate one-shot or two-shot, so while it may not be done for a while, I hope to get it done anyway. Still, Disquiet itself is finished. I'm surprised it was finished as soon as it did, but hey, the more finished fics, the better, right?

Now, some people asked whether that means I will be going back to Quoth the Raven…, but sadly, I'm lacking inspiration for that story, so it's on hiatus for now. Also, please remember my stance on people asking for updates (as stated on my profile). That being said, for those of you hungering for similar action, well, there's my other Black Lagoon story, a oneshot crossover with A Song of Ice and Fire called Roanapur's Imp, and, of course, Technomad's excellent Harry and the Pirates, for those looking for lighter fare that's still recognisably Black Lagoon. Or maybe Arawn D Draven's No Rest for the Wicked, also a WCWL story, but less twisted.

This was, oddly enough, my first Wrong Boy Who Lived story to be published. Fitting that it's also the first to be completed. And this was also the darkest, I think, that I have ever made Harry, never mind James and Sirius (while bashable in my other WBWL fics, they're not quite at the level of this one). If you want more WBWL stories, why not check out my Sekirei crossover Wings of the Forsaken, and my RWBY crossover Neopolitan and the Goblet of Fire? Or Arawn D Draven's VERY dark Sekirei crossover The Bloody Ashikabi?

Anyway, this story is done, and I hope you guys enjoyed it.

Review-answering time! Leicontis: It was a fairly deliberate reference. I mean, it's a good line. And I try to finish my fics, but unfortunately, my muse, to quote Sander Cohen from Bioshock, 'is a fickle bitch, with a short attention span!' Unless I decide they're abandoned, all fics that haven't been updated for, say, a year, should be considered to be on hiatus at worst, and PMing me or saying in reviews for me to update actually discourages me from updating as it puts extra pressure on me. Of course, sakurademonalchemist isn't the only such writer (though that she managed to finish Memories of Nobody is commendable). NeonZangetsu is another. Nowadays, even if I do eventually leave a fic up in the air, I try to write at least 20K words or thereabouts (about 8 chapters for me) before I leave it lie fallow.

1. This scene comes from the second episode of Doctor Who: Remembrance of the Daleks, where the Doctor discusses the repercussions of actions in a café with a man called John, who is played by Joseph Marcell, who may be better known as Geoffrey from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. Before musing about decisions being like boulders, the Doctor discusses how, if he could change sugar from being desirable, it would have had a knock-on effect for the harvesters and shippers of sugar. John points out that his father was a cane-cutter, and that if sugar hadn't become popular, his great-grandfather wouldn't have been kidnapped and sent to Kingston to be sold. It's one of the best bits of dialogue in the story, if not the entire series.

2. This comes from the end of the same episode. Shortly beforehand, Ace DOES attack two Daleks with a baseball bat, albeit one enhanced by a Gallifreyan stellar manipulator called the Hand of Omega, so it discharges energy when it hits something.