break away (c)

When Killian came barging in, Bree didn't jolt up in surprise. She didn't start stuttering excuses as to why shards of glass were littered across the floor. She didn't even get up to greet him. Instead, she remained where she was, comfortably lounging on his couch. And what a nice couch it was. No shitty couches for Killian Callahan, oh no; he was used to only the best, she was sure, a fact she was duly grateful for now.

Her eyes had been closed when the blond first stepped in. Lazily, she opened them, and set eyes on her cousin for the first time in over two years. Maybe it had been longer than that; cripes, she hadn't been keeping a calendar. "Your window had it coming," she informed him, before grinning her usual smirk across at him. "Well, lookit you, all grown up! Don't worry, though, you'll always be wee Killy to me, no matter how old you get. So, aint'cha gonna say how happy you are to see me? Also how surprised you are to see me, let's not forget that. You've been doing well for yourself; I quite like the couch." She patted its comfortable cushions affectionately. She had, obviously, grown quite fond of them during the time she had spent in Killian's house.

He hadn't expected her to come through the door, had he? Well, he probably hadn't been expecting her at all. Surprise visits were just the best. She could only hope that he appreciated that nice breeze that he was now getting in his living room. The place had probably been mighty stuffy before then. So not only had she gotten to break shit, but she got to be rewarded by knowing she had done a good deed. He'd undoubtedly be thanking her before much longer. Damn, did that window look great without glass.

KILLIAN CALLAHAN

She watched with mild interest as Killian attempted to kick the glass away, before realizing it was hopeless and giving up. With that amount of shards, he'd need something more thorough than his foot to do the job, like a dustpan, or a blowtorch. Bree didn't often clean up messes; she was much better at making them.

The blond went to sit in a chair a fair distance away from her couch. Rolling up from her lying position, Bree straightened up and pulled her legs up onto the couch before crossing them. Yes, this was a much better position. The laces on her sneakers were fraying, she noticed, and there was definitely a tear at the tip of her shoe.

She returned her cousin's smirk with one of her own. As usual, her cheerful grin had a somewhat ominous hint to it. "Think of it as a bit of both," Bree suggested to him. She wasn't even going to bother trying to hide the fact that she had been sent by Killian's old man. It wasn't worth the effort. "Couple a' weeks ago, your pa called me up and asked me to drop by, so I did, and think of my surprise when he asked me to come here and check up on you! 'Course, it wasn't a big surprise. I'd be worried if my son went crazy and decided to drop the mob life too." She nodded emphatically. She wouldn't have actually been worried- she had never been worried a day in her life- but it was just a figure of speech. Or something.

Her multicolored bangs slid over as she paused to thoughtfully cock her head to the side. "Now that I think about it, he might have mentioned something about being quiet about tracking you down. I can't really remember. All I know is that he was all, 'check up on my son, Bree,' and I was all, 'sure thing, boss man!' and then I did that little salute thing!" She demonstrated for him. "And now, here I am, and there you are." She beamed across at him.

KILLIAN CALLAHAN

Of course he denied his insanity. The insane usually did. She had been called crazy all her life, and was quite used to it by now. She even enjoyed it. If this was what being crazy was like, then crazy was fun! Who wouldn't want to be crazy? Killian's brand of madness, on the other hand, was the boring kind. Poor lad.

"You've definitely gone crazy," Bree replied casually, rocking slightly back and forth in her sitting position. "Trust me coz, I know all about crazy, and you've definitely got a pinch of it! Otherwise you wouldn't be off at university. You'd be having fun with me! But nope, you don't wanna blow stuff up with me or shoot machine guns, you wanna study whatever you study at university!" Whatever he was studying, she didn't really care. It was definitely something boring and useless in life. Now, learning how to properly set up explosives or pull off a kidnapping deal, those were important life skills!

When he rose from his seat, she did the same, uncrossing her legs and vaulting ot her feet. "Sure, a cuppa'd be nice, as long as you're not gonna poison it or anything," she replied, luxuriously stretching her arms skyward and arching her back. She had been on that couch for quite a while before Killy had had the decency to show up and attend to his guest. "I haven't had much since I got off the plane. Gotta hand it to you, coz, you chose a nice place to settle down to be a loser at." She followed him to where the kettle was.

An idea occurred to her. The moment it did so, her amber eyes obtained a gleam to them, a rather unpredictable one. "Might be I'll spend some time here myself," she said casually, as though it was an idea that was still up in the air- when really, her mind had already been made up.

KILLIAN CALLAHAN

((ooc: do you like how I reply with lightning speed?))

'English lit'? The hell was English lit? Well, whatever it was, it sounded pretty boring, not to mention useless. What this boy right here was missing was valuable life skills! He was letting what few he had gotten from the mob get all rusty, which was just plain criminal. Killian had been born into a family with wonderful opportunities, and he had just tossed that all away at the drop of a hat to study English Blahblahblahblah!

But there could still be a solution to this problem. Living alone like he had been, far away from his family, of course it had been easy for Blondie to ignore his roots. But with Bree around, forgetting his heritage would definitely become a lot more difficult, especially since she intended to remind him with every chance she got. Considering the fact that she pretty much breathed the Irish mobster lifestyle and lived for causing trouble and witnessing misery really helped.

Perching herself on the edge of one of his counters so that her worn-out sneakers dangled in the air, Bree accepted her cup of whatever and took a sip from it. Her eyes never left Killian for a moment. They still had a malevolent sort of spark about them. "Killian, Killian," she sighed, lowering her mug. "All your father told me to do was check up on you. He left the rest up for me to decide, which was probably for the best. He knows how bad I am at following orders." Ah, good ol' Uncle Callahan. He knew her so well.

"Don't worry, your place is definitely big enough. I scouted the entire house before settling down on the couch." A mass invasion of privacy? Perhaps. But really, he shouldn't have been expecting anything else from her. "Your couch'll do fine, buddy. C'mon, you wouldn't turf your own cousin out onto the street, would you?" Bree took another sip from her mug, this time choosing the wide-eyed and pleading sort of expression. Naw, he wouldn't throw her out. He was too good to do that. God, living on his own all these years had really changed him for the worse.

Bree wasn't just asking to stay because she needed a base of operations while here in Nova Athenis- though she definitely did need that. The closer she was to Killian, the better a negative influence she could be.

KILLIAN CALLAHAN

"Well, duh! Of course I looked through your stuff." Bree kicked the back of her heel against the cabinet underneath the counter and rolled her eyes. what did he expect? "So if you find anything of yours that's broken, odds are it was me. Just lettin' ya know." she thought it was magnanimously generous of her to even let him know that. When it came to broken things, Bree either proudly admitted that it was her handiwork or denied that it had been her, even when it obviously had been.

She hadn't been worried for one moment about him letting her stay, so forgive her for not letting out a sigh of relief when he gave his consent. Killian probably knew that denying her a place in his house wouldn't have made a difference; she would have stayed there anyways. "Sweet, I call the couch!" She declared, before slurping some more tea out of her cup and hopping down off her counter. "And don't worry, Killy," she added, leaning towards him as a smirk grew on her face. "I promise not to cause any trouble."

Of course, her promise was worth nothing. He knew that.

Still smirking, Bree flipped her multicolored hair over her shoulder and began to walk back to the living room, where her new bed awaited her. "Oh, and give your old man a call, wouldya?" She threw back over her shoulder as she exited. "You know how worried he gets about his little baby n' heir sometimes."

KILLIAN CALLAHAN

"Alright. I'll take both the couch and the bedroom. So kind of you to offer both to little old me." My, wasn't she a greedy little pig? There was no getting rid of her now; she had already staked her territory out. Poor wee Killian was stuck with her.

He had always been a bit of a silly goose, her cousin, but abandoning the family business was just insane. She had always thought that Killian was cursed; it made perfect sense to her. After all, he was one of those people who actually went out of his way to not cause trouble and kept his promises. To Bree, promises were just a way to make lies seem more convincing. And she never, ever thought twice about committing mischievous shenanigans. Or tomfoolery. Or ne'er-do-welling. They were just all so much fun!

She threw herself back on the couch, rolling over so that her back was lying against the cushions. "If you're not the heir, then why aren't I?" She queried loudly to the ceiling. "I've always wanted to wear a little crown. That's what mob bosses do, right? Wear little crowns?" That sounded accurate. Scooping up a nearby pillow, Bree began to idly throw it in the air. "I s'pose you are kind of a failure. After all, you're at university. Getting an education. But don't worry, I won't hold it against you. Because I'm here to cure you, Killy. I'm here to fix you. You'll be right as rain by the time I'm done with you, never fear!"

KILLIAN CALLAHAN

Maybe she would take both the room and the couch. Killian seemed pretty intent on giving her the former, but she was growing increasingly fonder of this couch. She wanted both, so she should just take both. That was how it worked, right? Bree's parents had never been the types to spoil her, so she had just spoiled herself instead. She got herself whatever she wanted, through cash or theft, and that was just how she liked things.

Bree rolled over onto her stomach, propping her chin up on the arm of the couch. "Killian!" She hollered after her cousin. "I want a crown too! Get me a crown!" She paused, and when he didn't answer back, yelled out, "Crown!" once more just to make sure her point had gotten across. She'd look fucking good in a crown. Maybe she should get Killian a crown too. He'd almost certainly refuse to wear it, but that just meant that she'd get to keep it. She could just picture it perching on her head, a tiny golden thing that caught the eye of everyone she passed by. Yes, that was what she wanted, and if Killian didn't end up getting it for her (which he probably wouldn't), then she would just go get it herself.

Not now, though. Now, she was resting. She could work on getting that crown, as well as making her cousin's life a hell of a lot more interesting, later.

KILLIAN CALLAHAN