AN: I am going to do what is impossible for me; attempting to write two fics about the same characters at the same time.

This is going to be the 100 themes challenge with Death the Kid and his lovely team. I really adore them, if you can't tell! n_n I'll warn for spoilers, by the way. If I don't, kick me and I'll edit, because I'm awfully forgetful. I'll also try to censor my language, but this is going to be T, just in case. (Consider that a warning, JulesKD!)

Obviously, the first is the Introduction, so here we are. Kid and Liz and Patty meeting for the first time - the way I think it went, at least.

Wish me luck! I'll be trying to keep these shorter than those of Building a Bridge for the sake of honoring the challenge itself. If you've read any of my other stuff, you know that I love reviews more than life itself, so make my little self happy, if you like what I write!

Liz stood in front of Patty and bared her teeth like something feral.

"I mean you no harm," the skinny little rich stranger said to her with both hands outstretched. He stood on - literally on - the pile of men that had previously been threatening her and her sister with their lives, his well-shined boots glimmering in the dim lighting. He showed no fear, no fear at all; in fact, his eyes were wild with delight, a grin made from nothing short of joy stretched across his face - and he had perfect teeth, teeth that made Liz want to vomit right on his nice clothes and put out a cigarette butt on his flawless skin and steal every dollar to his name.

Only an hour or so ago Liz had been the one standing before him, and she'd pressed her sister's cold metal to his throat and leered at him, very much ready to pull the trigger. She'd blown cigarette smoke in his goddamn face and punched him in the stomach when she left, leaving him doubled over behind her.

And he had willingly handed her a fistful of money, too, right out of his pockets. She didn't need an excuse to hit him - he'd been cooperative enough, after all - she'd just wanted to fill those fearless eyes with terror and pain. She'd failed, too, because even as she and her sister left with his money he kneeled on the filthy streets of Brooklyn and stared after them like a vulture awaiting the death of a small animal. The feeling of his eyes on the back of her neck had made the hair on the nape of her neck raise.

And now he was looking at them again, his sophisticated eyes fixed on their filthy, grubby faces, his grin fading as his rush of enthusiasm subsided. She didn't know what he wanted, or why he'd saved them, or who he was, but he was here, and he was dangerous, and he

Would. Not. Touch. Patty.

"I want you two to come with me," he said matter-of-factly.

"F*** you," Liz retorted, and she spat at his shoes.

"If I wanted to hurt you," he said patiently, watching as the glob landed on one of the fallen mobsters with that obnoxious look of fearlessness, "I would have done it when you were threatening me."

Liz didn't know what to say to that. His rationality didn't belong on the street.

"I need weapons and I need symmetry," he insisted in a tone Liz could not place - hope? - and he stepped off of the pile. "You two will provide me with everything I need, and I will give you anything you want in return." No, she recognized it now - it was desperation.

Liz paced backwards and forced Patty against the wall of the warehouse. She had never imagined that they would be literally cornered by some lanky, deadly little dude in an odd suit -- dear God, was this the end? Not for their lives, not necessarily, but for their freedom? Was he going to take them? The thought thoroughly terrified her, and she had to swallow back the urge to run past him as quickly as she could with her sister in tow.

"You're shaking, Sis," Patty said, and she laughed. The sound made Liz feel a bit queasy.

"I want you two to be my weapons," he proclaimed, taking another step forward. A body behind them stirred, and stood, and reached for him --

-- and he aimed a backwards punch at the thug's pasty bulldog face without even having to look. The poor sap collapsed back into the pile once more like felled timber, and Liz's jaw hung open in awe. Patty was laughing harder now.

He was more dangerous than they were, and he wasn't even a weapon.

"I'm not going to force you into servitude," he said once Patty quieted, outstretching his hands once more. Liz felt Patty begin to reach back and distracted her by grabbing onto her hand and squeezing it. "I have been searching endlessly for a pair of weapons like you... I think I may need you girls." His voice was completely sincere.

It dawned on her then; this guy that she had mugged and punched for no apparent reason had taken out an entire mob that had wanted their money, and their bodies, and God-only-knew what else, and he had done it just for them.

What little light the warehouse lights cast suddenly made him look like an angel.

"Who are you?" She whispered to him, and she saw him smirk.

"Nobody you have to fear," he said delicately. "I'm..."

-

"DEATH THE KID!" Liz Thompson roared, and her anger very nearly shook the blinds.

Kid peered innocently around the corner at Liz, who stood with what looked like a magazine in one hand and a pair of scissors in the other.

"What, Liz?" He asked politely in a saccharine tone that was made of lies.

Liz cut right to the chase, with no pun intended.

"You cut my magazine in friggin' half!" She stormed, pinching the corner of its cover so that it fell open. Every page - every article, every picture - was cut very cleanly down the middle.

Kid looked sheepish.

"Don't you even give me that dog-pissed-on-the-carpet face," Liz seethed. "What the Hell did you do this for, huh!? I wasn't even halfway done with reading this!"

Predictably, Kid spread his arms to with an angelic smile.

"The pages were off-center," he insisted. "They didn't fold it right. I was only trying to help. It was completely asymmetrical--"

This time, Liz was hearing none of it.

"Give me five reasons I shouldn't make your face asymmetrical," she demanded.

Kid's arms dropped to his sides. His mouth opened, then closed - and he ran out of the room without another word.

"I am going to cut a corner off of every piece of blank stationary in this house!" Liz shrieked, racing after him with the scissors still clutched tightly in her fist.

Patty sat on the couch and laughed, laughed far past the point where her cheeks turned red, then purple, and the tears flowed freely from her eyes.