#billy russoxreader

[danyka-fendyr]

Go Fish

Hello, lovelies! This one was a request from the extraordinary @lettersofwrittencollective. She wanted a Billy oneshot, and her wish is my command. You guys ask, I deliver. I’m not sure if this is exactly what you were looking for, my dear, but I hope it makes you happy! (the timeline is absolutely all over the place canon wise but like...oh well)

Description: Reader meets Billy and thinks he’s a little shady, but as it turns out, she has no idea exactly how shady he can be. Hijinks ensue.

Wordcount: 1380

You knew Billy was bad news from the moment you met him. There was nothing direct about him to say so, but you just...had a feeling. A sixth sense, or whatever you might want to call it. 

When you met Billy, it actually had nothing to do with business, which you would later find out was rare for him. Most of his contacts were either business, military, or both. The man hardly stepped out of his office, let alone found time to step out of the house. That certainly didn’t handicap his social skills though.

You stared at your computer screen, lower lip settled firmly between your teeth as you tried to make a choice. Your drink of choice was still cooling off next to you and had been for the last 20 minutes. Why was coffee always so hot? Was there some secret you were missing to getting it at optimum temperature? Maybe you should ask your barista if they can just microwave it on the beverage setting.

You didn’t really notice or care when Billy initially walked in. You were too focused on your screen, and even if you hadn’t been, hot guys walked into coffee shops in New York all the time. What was the big deal?

Evidently though, Billy noticed you. Shortly after presumably ordering his coffee, the hot guy in a coffee shop in New York tapped your shoulder.

You nearly jumped out of your seat.

He laughed, a warm vibrato. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

You couldn’t help but respond with a healthy dose of defensive sarcasm. “Oh, really? Well great. I feel better now.”

He offered up an apologetic smile. “Well, maybe I can make up for it. I’d recommend the .380.”

“The .380? How come?” You shifted in your seat to face him better, the fake leather underneath you grumbling slightly.

“It’s lighter, smaller. Easier to fit in a purse, good in a pinch.”

“And how do I know I can trust your opinion? How do I know you even know anything about guns? Maybe you’re a murderer.”

He laughed again, but now that you had gotten a good look at him, you were ashamed to admit that it sent a little thrill through you. He was bad news, for sure. That glint in his eye mixed with all that hair gel and that gorgeous face. And something else, tingling at the base of your spine, that said maybe you really should stay far, far away.

You didn’t listen though.

“I work for a company that deals in firearms. Maybe you’ve heard of them. Anvil?”

“You guys run all the ads for the ex-military crowd, right?”

“I guess you have heard of us.”

And, ignoring that buzzing running up and down your back like an electric current, you leaned forward, smiled, and asked him if he wanted to take a seat.

Coffee was only the start of your relationship with Billy Russo, who didn’t hide for long that he was, in fact, the CEO of Anvil. He didn’t work for them, they worked for him. And it didn’t take too long before you were swept up in his charm.

It helped that he was trying to charm you. Billy made no secret of the fact that he was trying o romance you, and you made no secret of the fact that you weren’t playing hard to get, you were hard to get. You had seen the girls that came and went with Billy Russo, and you didn’t want to become one of them. Especially not since you happened to actually like the man.

Despite all your best intentions, the only sense in which Billy hadn’t managed to charm your pants off was the literal one. Lately, though, you had another reason not to be with him. There was something bothering him, and you could see it. He was sleeping less, eating less.

“Hey there, beautiful,” Billy greeted you in the same coffee shop where you met, pulling a chair out for you.

He leaned forward to kiss your cheek, but you dodged playfully.

“Hello, sir. Do I know you?”

“Why, I’m wounded!”

“Yes, you do seem to be.” You frowned, cupping his cheek in one hand. “What’s up, Bill?”

He shook his head. “Nothing, nothing. Everything is great.”

“Oh, and that’s why you’ve stopped sleeping.”

He sighed, stepping out of your reach and taking a seat. You took the one opposite him, plopping down in the cushy chair. You waited quietly, knowing that if you stayed silent long enough he would open up.

“Do you ever feel like...you’re not doing the right thing?”

You almost said “All the time,” but stopped yourself and let him continue.

“Like, it started out as the right thing, and then it was just a little wrong, and the very next thing you know it’s all wrong, and you aren’t sure who you are or where you even saw this going?”

“That sounds pretty deep,” you said quietly.

He sighed, buried his face in his hands. “I just think...I just think I might have done a very bad thing.”

“Billy?” 

You felt fear ice out your insides, but in a way you knew, you saw this coming a long time ago. You just hadn’t anticipated wanting to help him instead of wanting to run far, far away. But then again, that was the nature of Billy Russo, wasn’t it? Deadly and attractive.

“Billy, tell me.” 

“Not here.”

You headed out to the car, and Billy told you everything. He told you about Frank, who you had met a few times, who you considered a friend. Told you about his family, about all the terrible things he had done. When he was done, you didn’t know what to say. You were crying quietly, one shaking hand over your mouth.

“Billy...you have to stop. You have to. I- This can’t go any further.”

“I know. I know. I just...It’s so complicated. If I stop people could get hurt if I don’t people get hurt. I don’t know what to do.”

“What if...”

Billy turned in his seat, looking at you with desperate eyes. He looked so hopeful, looked so lost, that you let go of all reservations.

“I have a friend. They could help you.”

“A friend? Who do you know that could possibly help me?”

“I just...I know a guy, okay? He’s...a friend of a friend.”

“A friend of a friend?”

“Yeah. I used to date this lawyer guy who knew a guy.”

“Are you sure this will work? I don’t want anyone to get hurt. Especially not you.”

You reached across the center console, taking his hand in yours.

“Trust me. I’m sure about this.”

It didn’t take long for Matt to get to work. You trusted him, had since he had taken a case of yours pro bono like most of his and accidentally ended up best friends, and briefly, more. Apparently, that happened to him a lot. The briefly more part, not so much the best friends part. You quickly figured out what the pro in pro bono was.

Long story short though, you were able to break the news to Billy. The good kind of news. Or you would have been able to if you hadn’t found him watching the actual news at his place, detailing what had happened more or less as Billy sat on the floor and cried.

You sat beside him, and for a while, that was all you did. You two just sat there. You waited for him to speak, to make the first move.

“Your guy?” He croaked.

“Yep. I’ve got friends in high places. Or...low, I guess.”

He choked out a laugh at your bad joke.

“So what does this mean now?”

“It means,” You said, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, “that you’re a free man.”

And a free man he was. He used that freedom for the best now that he was no longer influenced by Rawlins. And between you, Frank, and Frank’s family who were thankfully alive, you were all happier than you had ever been.

Which is why it was no surprise to anyone but Billy when one day you weren’t so hard to catch.

[danyka-fendyr]

MASTERLIST

Series:

Kingdom of Gold (based off of Faint of Heart and Crown of Hearts by @dreamwritesimagines):

KoG Part 1

KoG Part 2

KoG Part 3

KoG Part 4

Remind Me (based off of Once a Year by @dreamwritesimagines. complete.):

Part 1

Part 2 

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

As the Raven Flies (on hiatus)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Absence of Good: Spencer Reid series

Chapter 1

Oneshots: 

Billy Russo:

Go Fish

Spencer Reid:

Closer

Unknown Subject

Tommy Shelby:

A Bit of a Scrape

Ships:

Kastle (Frank Castle x Karen Paige):

Stay?

Poetry:

Dichotomy

[danyka-fendyr]

Remind Me: Part 2

That’s right ladies and gentlemen, the much-anticipated part 2 is out! At least, I’m assuming it was much anticipated given the feedback from Dream. Which is basically the best feedback ever. If you haven’t read her story Once A Year yet (which this series is based upon) you really, really should! It’s amazing and it gives me all the feels.  However, you don’t want to hear me talk. You want to read the story. So without further ado, allons-y!

Taglist: @dreamwritesimagines

Wordcount: 2409

“I know, Billy,” You said. “I know.”

Eventually, they told you that you could go. You had to be honest with yourself, it was a relief. You weren’t super keen on being tied up to a million machines all the time.

Billy helped you out, and you followed him without a second thought. You probably should have been concerned with how blindly you trusted him, but that was the thing about blind trust. You didn’t question it.

“So where do I live?,” You asked him. “With you?”

That caught him off guard, which you had somehow known it would.

“Um...no. You have an apartment in the nice part of town.”

“And you?”

“I have an apartment.”

“In the nice part of town?” You pushed, raising an eyebrow.

“Something like that.”

“You’re lying to me. And you’re not even bothering to do a good job of it.”

That made him laugh again. “There’s no point with you. Even when you can’t remember me you apparently have an uncanny ability to remember all of my tells.”

You just shrugged, unwilling to admit that you were a little bit proud of yourself for that, however dumb it might be.

“So? Where do you live?”

“In the not so nice part of town. Where I like to be.”

“I see I’ve tried to convince you to move before.”

“Many times.” He rolled his eyes.

“Well, you know what they say. The amnesiac time is the charm.”

He scoffed. “Yeah. Sure Skittles. I’ll move in with you and be like one of those live-in helpers old people have.”

“I mean, why not?” You turned around in the parking lot you had just arrived in, facing him.

“Why not what?”

“Why not have you move in with me? I mean, it only makes sense since apparently, you’re the mysterious key to my past.”

Billy Russo stared at you like you had grown another head.

“You don’t even know anything about me-”

“So you can tell me on the drive. Is that your car?” You spun towards the cherry red Stringray Corvette, eyes absolutely huge.

“No. It’s yours.”

“What!” You screamed, jumping up and down. “She’s gorgeous! Holy crap!”

Billy watched you, smiling and shaking his head. “Damn. I haven’t seen you this happy since you graduated high school and, quote, ‘never had to go back to that place.’ Though personally I still miss the uniform.”

“Perv.”

“Only around you. What can I say Skittles? You just bring out the worst in me.” He smiled, white teeth gleaming against his skin.

“Filed under Billy Russo in my brain. Now, give me the keys because there’s no way I’m letting you drive her.”

“Oh come on!” He threw his hands up in the air, frustrated.

“Nope. No way.”

“Not even when you have amnesia will you let me drive the car,” he grumbled.

“Not even if I was dead.”

“Remind me why I’m friends with you?” he asked.

“Because I’m pretty,” you told him, sliding into the driver’s seat.

“Oh right.”

20 minutes later, you were officially outside the nicest apartment complex you had ever seen. Well, you couldn’t remember the other apartment complexes you had seen, but suffice it to say it was pretty sweet.

“Do you think there’s a doorman?” You asked, unbuckling.

“I think,” Billy said, knuckles still white from his grip on the armrests, “that you still drive like a madwoman.”

“Oh don’t be a baby. You were in the military, I’m sure you’ve faced worse.”

“I have never faced worse than you ducking into opposing traffic because the guy in front of you was driving ‘too slow.’”

“He was!” You closed your door, locking the car after Billy got out.

“Not slow enough to justify that!”

“You’re no fun.”

“Funny. That’s not usually how these conversations go.”

He ran a hand through his hair, and you tried not to stare. You were seriously going to need someone to explain to you how exactly you had never romantically pursued this guy. He might have been even prettier than the car.

“Are you trying to tell me I’m the boring one?”

“Yes Skittles. That is exactly what I’m trying to tell you. You are a major stick in the mud.”

You gasped theatrically. “How dare you! I don’t believe a single thing you’ve said.”

“Believe it or not, it’s the truth. Ask anyone.”

“I wouldn’t know who to ask,” You reminded him.

His smile softened.“Don’t worry. I’ll introduce you.”

You both started to head inside, discovering that there was indeed a doorman, and he gave you a nod as he opened the door for you. Apparently, he recognized you. Either that or you just looked rich, which was entirely possible given the clothing Billy had brought for you at the hospital. You hoped your entire wardrobe didn’t look this...stuffy.

You waited until you got on the empty elevator to ask Billy the question that had been on your mind. “So uh...which floor do I live on? And like...which apartment?”

“You sure you’re ready for this?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Um...yes?”

He grinned. “Penthouse, baby.”

“You’re joking.”

“Not even a little bit,” he said, pressing the button.

“How did all of this even happen?”

“You got adopted by some very rich people. They’re the worst. They hate me,” he said, hands in his pockets.

“Why would they hate you? And why do you live in a crappy apartment even though you wear very expensive suits like that?”

“They hate me because I’m not a socialite and also they can’t boss me around, which is a bad combo in their book. And I live in a crappy apartment because I like it there. Besides, it’s not that bad of an apartment, it’s just the neighborhood that’s terrible.”

You nodded like you understood, though in fact the only thing you really understood was that your adopted parents really, really didn’t like him. Billy had already explained your foster situation too, which based off of what little you could remember sounded about right.  You were still confused about what exactly your parents were like though. You did know that if Billy was at all right you weren’t excited to meet them. Again.

The elevator doors dinged open, and you stepped out into the most beautiful apartment of all time. It was absolutely huge, and there were a million windows. The only thing you might have changed about it was that it didn’t feel very...personal. You got the sense that you had just hired some fancy pants decorator to design the place. Everything was sleek and modern and...totally lifeless.

The color scheme was nice though.

“So, you own some big fancy corporation?” You asked, sitting down on your cushy white couch.

Who even owned white coaches made out of what you hoped was fake leather?

“Sure do.”

Billy went straight for your fridge. It was clear that he had been here before as he shuffled through its contents, taking some chicken breast out before pulling open the freezer drawer and grabbing brussels sprouts.

“What are you doing?”

“Feeding you. You just got out of the hospital and the only thing they do well there is jello. You hate jello. Except for the red stuff.”

You shuddered. “Ugh. Jello.”

“See?” He pulled a pan out of a cupboard adjacent to the sink.

“I believe you. Please don’t make me eat Jello.”

“I would never torture you like that, Skittles.”

“Wow, you really are my best friend, huh?”

He smiled over his shoulder at you. “What gave it away?”

“The fact that you know where my cast iron skillets are.”

He laughed, further proving himself by grabbing a bottle of olive oil to coat the pan in before tossing on the chicken.

“One dinner coming right up, best friend.”

“Okay, so wait. Catch me up here. You’re rich. You can cook. And your butt looks like that,” You said, giving it a good hard look and not bothering to hide where you were looking. “Explain to me why we’re not dating?”

“Because,” he said, flipping the chicken, “you’re like my little sister. And I’m like your big brother.”

“Except we are in no way biologically related, meaning that relationship could change.”

You were just teasing him, of course. I mean, to a certain extent the part about him being hot was true, but you weren’t trying to harass the guy. The thing was, you could tell that he was having just as much fun as you were. In the same way you knew you could trust Billy Russo, you knew that he was laughing his head off inside by the slight tug at the corners of his mouth, the twinkle in his eyes, and the way he couldn’t seem to look directly at you for more than 5 seconds without being afraid he would burst out laughing. You may have forgotten him, but you still knew him.

“Technically true,” he said, trying to hide his grin behind a healthy dose of skepticism.

“Psh. Technically?”

“Sometimes, Skittles, technicalities are important.” He threw some garlic in with the chicken.

“You know what’s even more important? Feeding me. Because now that my kitchen smells like garlic chicken, I’m starving.” You stood up from the couch, moving to lean against the counter and watch him cook, biting your lip.

You were a lot hungrier than you had initially thought. The hospital had not been kind to you.

“I am working on it,” he said scoldingly.

“But I’m hungry,” you whined.

He tossed the brussels sprouts in with some seasoning salt. “Hi hungry. I’m Billy.”

“You pronounced, ‘the worst’ wrong.”

He snorted. “Still have the same sense of humor, I see.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s permanent. Sorry Bill.”

“Yeah, you should be apologizing. That sense of humor has gotten me in trouble more than a few times, you know that?”

“No way. You’re exaggerating.” You rolled your eyes.

“Nope. You’ll know when I’m exaggerating. Or maybe you won’t. I’m very good at it.”

“Jerk.”

“You can’t seem to decide if you love me or hate me.”

“So I’m guessing not much has changed.”

His response was simply, “Jerk.”

“So, tell me.” You settled in, turning so that your back was leaning against the counter and you had a better view of his face. “How on Earth did we manage to stay friends this long? I mean, nobody does that. Especially not people with life trajectories as drastically different as ours. How do I know you’re not really my stalker?”

Billy chuckled, in a very stalker-ish way, if anyone asked you. “I suppose that’s a fair cop. Well, we agreed when we were just kids, that no matter what happened, we would always meet up once a year. Every year. No matter what. Come rain or shine, hell or high water, what have you, I would come find you.”

“That’s not dialing down the creepiness Billy,” You teased.

He put the food on a plate, setting it on the island where you took your place on one of the stools.

“That’s some way to talk to the guy who just made you dinner.”

“I’ll decide if you can stay after I’ve tasted it.”

“Oh, she’s a food critic now.”

Billy watched you take your first bite, hands on his hips with one eyebrow raised. You were pleasantly surprised. This guy could really cook. The chicken tasted amazing, and the spices he had thrown in hit all the right notes. When had he even learned this?

“On a visit home. I got so tired of rations that I decided I would learn how to make something that didn’t taste like a brick.”

Apparently, you had said that part out loud. You couldn’t be blamed for what you did under the influence of good food.

“So were we more alike when we were younger or something? Because the way you describe it, we aren’t super similar at the moment.”

“I don’t know if I would say that.” Billy put the pan in the sink before sitting down across from you. “We’re still pretty similar in all the ways that matter. Back when we were kids though...”

He smiled fondly, as though reminiscing on some very specific memory. You had the overwhelming urge to join him, but you couldn’t, seeing as you currently had little to no memories in the bank. So instead, you let him have his moment, having a melancholy little moment of your own.

“You were a bit of a wild child. I was always getting you out of trouble. And then...getting into my own trouble. But that’s not the point!”

You laughed, taking another bite before you spoke again. “So basically we were both terrible people.”

“Harsh,” Billy said. “I would say we were...misguided youth.”

“Mmmhhhmm.”

“I still remember this time you stole a pair of handcuffs off this cop you were flirting with.” He shook his head, grinning. “We almost didn’t outrun him. And then you suggested we turn the handcuffs into bracelets, of all things. One for each of us. You thought you were so cool in your Metallica shirt with your handcuff bracelet, dancing in the rain like you didn’t have a care in the world.”

“Okay, so, correction. I was awesome, and you were a misguided youth.”

“Oh, shut up.”

You smiled, and you found yourself staring at him without really thinking about it. A comfortable silence settled over the two of you, and you liked the feel of it. It was yet another thing that affirmed he was not, in fact, your stalker. Though if you had any doubts before they were pretty much dismissed at this point. Plus he would have to be a pretty gifted stalker to get the hospital to let him get anywhere near you, you figured.

“Hey, do you-” You started speaking, but the buzz of the intercom interrupted you.

“Darling, I’m here to see you.” A woman’s voice crackled through the speakers, probably in her 50’s or 60’s. “So sorry I couldn’t make it to the hospital. You know how it is, your father and I just get so busy with business. Anyway, if you could just let me up...”

“I think that’s the nicest I’ve ever heard her be to you,” Billy grumbled. “There must be someone watching.”

“Who is it?” You asked, even as a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach gave you your answer.

“It’s your mother.”

[danyka-fendyr]

Remind Me: Part 5

A lot happens in this chapter, and I’m not sure I’m entirely satisfied with all of it, but you know what? The next chapter is going to involve some angst probably, so all of this craziness will end up being forgivable in comparison to that. As always, lovelies, this series is based on another one by the talented @dreamwritesimagines, her story Once a Year, and you should absolutely go check it out!

Taglist: @dreamwritesimagines @rhabakoli  @binbons-is-theloml

Wordcount: 2102

There was a long pause before, slowly, you spoke. “I’m not going to lie to you, Bill. In the very short period of our acquaintance that I can remember, that is definitely the most terrifying thing you have said to me so far. And you were just sitting at the end of my bed with a knife, so the bar is not low.”

“Skittles, this is serious.”

“I know. That’s the part that’s scaring me. Hence the current sarcasm and deflecting with humor. I did do that before, right?” You were worried, suddenly, that your personality had changed dramatically.

“Yeah, yeah. You definitely did that before.” Judging by how done he looked, he was recalling a few of those times.

You fell back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The plain whiteness of it was stark against the gray walls. Who picked gray walls for a bedroom? Someone dead inside, that’s who.

“Billy...there’s something I have to tell you.”

He turned on the bed to face you, worried. He was sweet. He always had been, for you.

“What is it, Skittles?”

“I didn’t forget everything. I mean, I did, when I first woke up. But since I’ve been awake...bits and pieces keep coming back to me. Just little fragments, you know? Never enough to piece together a whole picture. But they’re coming back to me in order of most recent, I think, and uh...two things stand out. I remember…” Your voice faded off into a whisper as you closed your eyes. “I remember falling down the stairs. I remember not- Not falling. I remember being pushed. Being shoved. Being kicked.”

“Do you remember a face? Skittles, you have to tell me. Do you remember a face?” He gripped your thigh, almost tight enough to hurt.

“No.” You shook your head, opening your eyes again. “Just falling and the pain. There is one other thing I remember though, Billy. But I don’t know if I’m imagining it or not. And I need you...I need you to be honest with me. Please, please can you be honest with me?”

“Of course. Of course, I can.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

You took a shaky breath. “I remember kissing you, Billy. And not from before. I remember...I remember something about beer and my car and...and kissing you. But if we were just friends, like you said…”

“Oh,” he whispered. “I didn’t think you would remember that first.”

“Billy, please. Tell me if I’m going crazy or not.”

“You’re not going crazy, Skittles.” He lay down next to you, rolled onto his side to see you. “I kissed you. We were friends, you and I, for a very long time. Longer than I can remember, almost. But at some point, for me, at least, it changed. I didn’t want you to just be my friend. You weren’t just my friend. And then after about 10 years of that, I found out that it had been the same for you, and I...I kissed you. Then so much happened, more than I could keep up with, and you were into some deep stuff you wouldn’t tell me about but something bad had happened, and then before I know it I’m getting a call to tell me you’re in the hospital and I can’t breathe and everything is falling apart and it feels like I’m dying.” He fell away from you when you turned to face him, but the agonized look on his face wasn’t hidden by the fact that his eyes were following the ceiling fan now. “It felt worse than dying, Skittles. It felt worse because I was afraid you were dying, and I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t...I couldn’t…”

His hands were balled up in fists, eyes tight against the tears held in them. You reached out for his hand, unsure how the matching tears in your own eyes had appeared so suddenly.

“I’m here, Billy,” You whispered. “I’m here. I’m not going away, I promise. I’m here, and I’m going to remember you no matter what. Because I lied earlier, Billy. I didn’t just remember two things. I remembered three, and the third is that I love you. I love you, Billy Russo, and I don’t remember why and I don’t remember how, but I will.”

His eyes opened, dark and wide, staring at you like you were the only thing he had ever seen, like you were the moon lighting up his darkest night. One large, warm hand reached up to cup your cheek, cradling it in his palm, and you closed your eyes, breathing in the spicy, familiar scent of his cologne. You were intensely aware of the fact that he still wasn’t wearing a shirt from when he had gone to bed last night. He was so close to you, you realized as your eyes opened slowly. So close that if you leaned forward just a few more inches…

“Kiss me,” You whispered.

He looked hesitant. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea Skittles. It wouldn’t be fair to you. Not when you can’t remember-”

“Please, Billy?”

He could never resist you when you were like this. Vulnerable. Innocent. Sweet. His girl, always.

He leaned forward, kissing you again as he held your face very carefully between his hands, and you realized how different this was. The kiss he had given you before was a kiss of convenience, just to bother your adopted mother. This was something different altogether. With this kiss, he was taking his time, and you were so glad he was.

The way his mouth moved with yours was right. In an unexplainable, unknowable way, it was right. Steady but gentle, with something very intentional to the feel of it. And with it, as cliche as it was, came the memories you had hoped for but hadn’t dared to say aloud. Just little glimpses. Snatches of him smiling at you from the driver’s seat, of running across a tarmac to throw yourself into his arms and noticing that he looked damn fine in his uniform, of the first time he had ever kissed you when you were just a nervous teenager, of the last time he had ever kissed you that you could still remember, his apartment walls burning into your mind and slamming into your back and-

Billy pulled away, taking a long breath. “I’m sorry. I...I shouldn’t have done that. It wasn’t right to do when you can’t remember me-”

You wiped a tear away from your face, swallowing down the lump in your throat. “Billy. I know who you are. You’re my Billy.”

He stared at you, eyes wide. “You remember me?”

You shook your head. “Not completely. Just little snatches. Like some kind of lame movie montage, except ours wasn’t lame, it was totally awesome. And even though I don’t remember you, I remember...you, if that makes any sense.”

“I think so?”

“It’s like...you know when you go somewhere you haven’t been in a really long time and it’s changed but you still remember it because it’s that place that you know and it always will be? It’s like that. It’s like walking into your childhood bedroom except somebody moved the bed to face the window instead of the wall, or opening the door to your 10th-grade chem class and realizing that they’re doing the microscope lab you were homesick for but it’s still your old high school chem lab.”

“I think I get it.” Billy nodded.

“Good, because I didn’t have another metaphor coming. If you didn’t get it after that I was just going to start quoting Friends.”

“That probably would have worked better.”

“We were on a break!”

He laughed at you, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“So now we’re going to go find the guy who did this to me and totally sort of low-key kill him, right?”

Billy smiled. “That’s my girl. But before we can do that, there are a few people you have to meet. Again.”

“And you’re sure the dress is necessary?” You said from where you were in the bathroom, finishing pulling up the zipper of said dress.

“Yes. It’s definitely necessary.” You heard a lie in his voice, but it was too late to bother going back now.

You came out of the bathroom, hair and makeup done, dress on. You couldn’t help the smile that came on your face though when you saw the way he looked at you. Clearly, as far as Billy was concerned, you looked beautiful in this dress. Of course, you probably could have come out in a potato sack and he still would have looked at you the same way, but you twirled for him all the same.

“You look perfect,” he told you.

“Thanks. Your turn. I expect you to be looking rather dapper if you’re going to accompany me this evening Mr. Russo.”

“I would never look anything but my best for you.”

“You’re still not wearing a shirt.”

“Like I said.”

You laughed as he grabbed a clean shirt from the stuff he had brought, pulling it on. Your dress, while pretty, was still just a casual sundress, and so Billy’s shirt matched. A button down, but no tie, and the top few buttons he left alone. He looked good. Almost as good as you, you were confident.

“So are you going to tell me who we’re meeting?” You asked as he walked you out to the parking lot.

“Nah. I think it will be more exciting if I let you guess, don’t you?”

“Yeah, that would be a great idea if I could remember literally anybody we both mutually know. Next idea?”

He chuckled as he helped you into the passenger seat.

“Alright, alright. The lady’s name is Karen. She was a good friend of yours. Very nice, incredibly smart. Don’t get on her bad side. The guy is my best buddy. Knew him back in the marines. His name is Frank. They’re dating now, finally, so feel free to call them out on taking forever to get together. Which we will do until they are well into their 80’s.”

“You’re so sexy when you’re being petty.” He started the car.

“And no saying stuff like that. We’re focusing tonight, Skittles.”

“I’m focused on something alright,” you teased.

Billy played the radio loud enough to make you go deaf for the rest of the car ride.

“Are they almost here?” You were sitting outside a small Mexican place, Billy with a beer in hand while you waited to order food. “I need someone to complain about your terrible taste in music to.”

“I have great taste in music. It’s not my fault the radio DJ doesn’t.”

“We could have listened to anything else Bill. Literally anything. But new wave 70’s electro-pop retro? What even is that? I didn’t know that was even a genre.”

“Neither did I. At least we learned something new today.” He shrugged. “And speaking of when they’ll get here, I see the man of the hour right now.”

You followed his gaze, twisting to see over the back of your chair. A large man dressed in all black was weaving his way through the crowd towards you, a serious look on his face. Beside him was a woman with beautiful strawberry blonde hair, a soft smile balancing out her partner’s rough exterior.

When they arrived at the table, you extended a hand to be shaken. “Hi, I’m- Oh wait, shoot, you already know that. Never mind. Oh my gosh I’m doing this amnesia thing all wrong Billy help me.”

Instead, he laughed at you. Karen had the good grace and the mercy though to save you from your plight. “Hi, I’m Karen. We were friends.”

“Yeah, Billy told me a little bit about you. He said you’re kind of awesome.”

Karen looked pleased. “Well, I guess he was kind of right.”

“Sit down, sit down,” Billy said.

He had just finished hugging it out with Frank, having a quiet little sidebar that looked very serious to you but could have just been Frank’s happy face as well. Now he was pulling you back into your chair, letting Frank help Karen into hers. They were frightening men, but never let it be said that they didn’t have manners.

Everyone settled in, a drink in their hand and a smile on their face, even Frank’s. Once he was satisfied they were all comfortable, Billy spoke.

“Alright. Let’s get down to business.”