The Kill House
by Laura Castellano
first posted 21 Jan 2007

Rated PG for a tiny bit of language

Summary:  Fill-in scene for the Pilot.  They settled it in 
the Kill House.

A/N:  This has been trying to get me to write it ever since 
I first saw the Pilot.  I wasn't sure where I wanted to go 
with it, but then I tried to think the way Matt would think, 
and it all fell into place.  I hope you enjoy it.

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"What are you, in love with her?"

Frank's words took Matt by surprise, but he covered it well. 
He only stared in surprise at his friend for a short moment 
before brushing off Frank's hands--and his question.

Frank, apparently seeing that Matt was in no mood to joke 
around, immediately made an executive decision.

"Let's settle this in the Kill House," he offered, grabbing 
a couple of practice rifles off the table and offering them 
to the men.  "Duff's gotta score on you three times.  You 
only gotta hit him once."

This time, Matt didn't hesitate.  He accepted Frank's 
challenge with a confident, "Let's go."

"Duff comes in the front, you go in the back way," Frank 
instructed.  "No smoke.  We need to get this over with and 
get back to work."

Matt made sure his rifle was ready to go, then waited by the 
back door of their practice house for Frank's signal.  When 
it came, he entered immediately.  Matt worked his way across 
the room, securing it in the way he would attempt if a 
hostile gunman was stalking him.  

The Kill House was dimly lit, and he knew Duff had the 
advantage of having spent many more hours here than himself. 
On the other hand, Matt was pissed off, and when he was 
pissed, he could be a formidable opponent.  

Matt ground his teeth when he remembered Duff telling him he 
needed to "keep that bitch on a leash."  The name-calling 
was the least of what he felt was a collossal insult.  

"Never met a man who could keep a woman like that on a 
leash," he muttered to himself, peering around the kitchen 
door to see if the room was clear.  He was ready to go in 
when a tiny bit of movement against the far wall held him 
back.

Duff was there, almost invisible in the darkness with his 
black clothing.  The man was able to stand unnaturally 
still, and in spite of his anger, Matt couldn't help but 
admire Duff.  He was new to their team, but he was very good 
at his job.  And as soon as Matt took him down a few pegs 
today, he'd could get down to the business of fitting in.  

Matt grinned when he considered the possible fireworks if 
Duff ever said anything like that to Emily's face.  She 
would cut him off at the knees--figuratively, of 
course--without batting an eye.  Emily ate misogynistic 
fools for breakfast.  Matt was pretty sure Duff had not been 
serious, because he had seen the man treating other women 
with respect and courtesy.  Still, he needed to learn that 
wasn't how their team joked around.  It wasn't--

Matt felt three quick, consecutive hits sting his shoulder. 
Crap!  Caught off guard.

"Two out of three!" he yelled to the dark figure across the 
room, and Duff nodded, then seemed to disappear.  Matt 
slipped his hand under his shirt to rub his shoulder where 
the paintballs had struck.  

That had simply been embarrassing.  It was time to pull 
himself together.

Matt did, swinging around to where Duff had been only 
seconds ago.  That darkened corner of the room appeared 
empty now as Matt approached it carefully.  The reason why 
became apparent when Duff stepped out of the shadows behind 
Matt and leveled three more shots at his back.

This time, Frank was there to relieve them of their weapons. 
Duff clapped him on the shoulder in a friendly gesture on 
his way out of the Kill House.  "Better luck next time," he 
grinned.

Matt just stood there in the middle of the room, now dimly 
lit and empty except for himself.  So far, this day wasn't 
turning out well at all.  He'd expected to at least hold his 
own with Duff, but the younger man had managed to neatly 
hand him his ass on a platter without even breaking a sweat.

"Good thing he handles a gun better than he handles his 
mouth," Frank commented when Matt emerged from the Kill 
House.

"Yeah.  What was that all about?"

Frank just shrugged.  "He's young.  He'll learn.  He really 
admires you both, believe it or not."

Matt raised his eyebrows a bit at that, but said nothing.

"What I'd like to know," Frank said in an oh-so-nonchalant 
voice as he began disassembling the weapons on the table, 
"is what your reaction was all about."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes you do.  I thought you were gonna punch me for a second 
there."

"For a second there, I was."

Frank stopped what he was doing, rested his hands on the 
table and leaned across it toward Matt.  "We've been friends 
a long time now," he began.  "You know if there's 
anything--"

"There's nothing I want to talk about."

"Okay," Frank said after digesting that a moment.  "That's 
cool."

Matt waved a goodbye, but his mind was already on Emily.  
His anger hadn't burned itself out with the paintball fight. 
In fact, it had barely gotten started.  What he needed...

He turned and glanced back at the Kill House before leaving 
the room.

What he needed was to do something that would eradicate the 
memory of Duff kicking his butt so quickly it was laughable. 
A new memory, a better one, could do that.  Something 
involving Emily.  In fact, maybe what he ought to do was 
bring Emily here tonight, after everyone else was gone, and 
get in a little one-on-one with her. 

He smiled a little at this idea, and decided to kick it 
around in his head for the rest of the afternoon.  By the 
time they met that evening, he'd have a full battle plan in 
place.  First he'd take her by surprise, then he'd wear her 
down, and eventually, victory would be his.  Emily wouldn't 
stand a chance.  Maybe afterwards, they could do some 
firearms practice, if she wanted to.  Just to make it legit 
and all.

He sure hoped Cheryl never found out about it, though.

End