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Guiding Way	By : LadyVenom Category: +G through L > Left 4 Dead Views: 1271 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Valve owns Nick & Francis and L4D the video game (and I make no money from them ) and any characters also created for Left 4 Dead.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Note: Vulgar language warning (C'mon it's Francis and Nick, it'd be weird for them not to curse up a storm.) Also, some of the words in this are words that the characters use that we felt they would, not words that reflect our own opinions. There will be sex in this later on.
Lastly! This is Pre- InfectionNick and Francis, explaining their time in prison and how they knew each other and interacted.
Please understand that this was an RP between myself and another individual, and due to it, that's why the paragraphs are smaller.
Hope you enjoy!

The bouncer had it coming to him; he knew the rules and the penalty for breaking them. It was simple as that, just business.
It was always business.
The alleyway was slippery, full of murky puddles and the sky was still deciding on if it should clear up or let loose again. Either way, Nick was tired of the god damned mist. The guy gave out a cry, trying to pull himself away from his assailant.
Francis looked over, smirking.
"What was that?" he asked. He looked back over at his partner, thumbing back to their victim.
"You went easy on the little shit!"
Hearing the man once more, he looked over his shoulder once again. Fuckin' pussy. Nick looked back at the man crawling along the dirty, broken pavement, moaning.
"We need him to survive this Francis, or did you forget that little detail?" He took a drag of the cigarette.
"Dead, alive. Message still sent. I don't see why we have to let the fucking bitch live." He groused.
"Because he knows if he goes to the cops, he's a dead man, so's his family." Nick turned; making sure the injured man heard him.
"Worth giving him a chance, don't you think?" He walked over to the vested man, patting him on the shoulder, knocking ashes off beside their shoes.
"Come on, let's go check out the club over on Fifth, I hear they've got some good dancers up tonight." He offered.
"They best be made out of pure gold to make me want to give this up." He replied, walking along side Nick.
Admittedly, he'd moved up swiftly in the ranks of Hell's Legion. Normally, the slick ones didn't enjoy getting their hands dirty. He had to admire that about him. If only barely. Turning to the man, he lightly tapped his side with a foot, grinning.
It'd feel so good just to kick him.
"Hey, c'mon." He called back, turning when he realized Francis wasn't beside him.
"Thought you'd be wanting to see some new meat?" He raised an eyebrow, taking a deep drag of the cigarette, watching Francis eye the guy nearly passing out on the pavement.
"You're lucky my pal here knows how to sweet-talk me."
He spat near the man's face before walking towards Nick once more.
"So, you're buying again right?" he asked, seeming not to mind the rain.
Nick snorted slightly.
"Tell me why I always end up footing the tab when I know you're good on the cash?" He flicked the butt away after one last drag.
"Because I have other commitments named Sarah, Jane and Whiskey." Francis grinned. "And sometimes San Jose."
Nick rolled his eyes.
"One of these days you're going to be the one buying me drinks. You've got to be the worst date I've ever had, you drink and eat me out of my wallet and then ogle the women and ignore me." He grumbled, though with a sarcastic lilt to his voice.
Francis frowned, looking over at Nick.
"Fuck you, man. I've seen you leaving with three women! So who's ignoring who?" he asked.
Nick laughed.
"By that time you're so drunk off your ass I'd be surprised you even knew how to find your own dick!"
The rain started to come down harder, then.
"Ah, shit!"
Flipping up the collar on his jacket, Nick cursed loudly, starting to dash towards the club half a block over.
"Fuckfuckfuck! I hate the rain!"
After the bouncer let them inside, Nick glanced around, the club was mildly packed. Enough to blend in, but not enough to be crowded.
"There, satisfied?" He asked, looking over to Francis, who already seem happily taken with one of the dancers
"What wasn't I satisfied about?" he asked, as a means to say he'd already forgotten about it.
And in some chances, he probably had. He sat down at a table, ordering a drink from a wandering waitress as he did so.

Joining him, Nick tried to shake out the remaining water from his jacket as he looked stage wise, placing an order himself towards the waitress.

The woman on stage was moving her hips fluidly along with the music before she just bowed down low, hand running up her straight legs, looking back at the audience. A coy smile on her lips, she was pale skinned beauty with dark hair and darker eyes. Soon enough, she was standing up once more, grabbing the pole and hoisting herself up onto it, spinning downwards.
One of her partners onstage did something similar, only coming spiraling downwards while upside down. Hispanic with purple hair and brown eyes; a spunky girl. Or, that was the role she played. Looking over at Francis, then back at the stage he shook his head. It only ever took a pretty smile and he was gone. When the waitress brought over their drinks, Nick sipped his, wishing his suit wasn't so damn damp in such a cool spot. Looking at his wrist he checked the time.
Fuck, I'll hear it from Beth later...
After a moment of thought on it, he realized he really couldn't care less about it, and settled back into his chair to enjoy the show.
"Now there... is some God damned beauty." Francis commented, sitting back in his chair as well, sipping on his beer. His legs knees were spread comfortably, a tattooed elbow on the table. It was a good sign he was relaxing and about to have a good time.
Or eventually get rowdy and start a fight.
It was always hard to tell with Francis, since most times a good, relaxing evening included a fight.
"M'mm..."
Sipping his whiskey, he watched the dancers thinking he'd seen better, but that it was best not the tell Francis that.
These type of places never have a good pool room... He thought sadly.
As one of the dancers strolled up to the edge of the stage, Francis gave out a hoot of appreciation, which turned into some laughter.
Fuck, I'm wired. I gotta bang someone or draw some blood. Taking a large swig from his bottle, he'd nearly finished it.
Looking back up at the dancers, Nick raised an eyebrow at the moves, enjoying them but figuring it was Francis who was relishing the moves more than anyone else. Taking a glance at his compatriot, he sipped his whiskey, the ice clinking against the chilled glass.
"Enjoying the show?" He asked, mildly amused.
"How could a man not?"he asked, as though the idea was the most ridiculous thing he'd heard that night.
"The women are beautiful. They're supple, friendly... it's art."He gave Nick a glance over.
"The only way you couldn't enjoy this is if you were some pussy-whipped gay man."
..Never mind his choice in words.
"Art..." He repeated, looking between Francis and the dancing women.
"Looks more like a good show of T&A to me." He replied, finishing his drink and waving a waitress over for a refill.
"Still art." He argued, though lightly. The single beer hadn't hit him, obviously.
"Beautiful women are art." he said, pointedly. "They may be a bit more...slutty than the rest, but still."
He finished his beer, now waiting for the waitress to come back around again.
"Well, it figures that's how you'd like them." Nick retorted dryly, looking over to Francis with a raised eyebrow.
The waitress brought over their drinks, waiting for Nick to pay her off.
He wondered absently how long it would take for Francis to start a fight, or hit on a dancer.
"What the fuck's that supposed to mean?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the women on stage.
"Don't tell me that you think anyone could do that." He gestured upwards towards a dancer doing her thing on a pole.
"No, I didn't say that..."
He sipped his fresh drink quietly, watching the dancers.
"I'm just saying that it doesn't surprise me that you find these particular women enjoyable, makes sense what with your track record with women." He amended.
To Francis, it still sounded like a hit.
"Well excuse me if I enjoy them a bit more real than you." He snarked, taking a drink of his fresh beer.
His mood was turning sour quickly. Perhaps because he wasn't able to put a beat down for once.
Nick laughed loudly, indicating the woman closest to them dancing.
"You think that's real?" He asked, amused.
"Yeah! What makes you think she's not?" he asked, looking at the third dancer. An African-American with dark, curly hair and pale grey eyes. She gave Nick a quite genuine smile before going down to the stage.
"Oh I don't know... the fact that the breasts defy gravity?" He asked, chuckling.
He grinned up at the new dancer, eyeing her.
M'mm...
"Fuck you."
He took a larger gulp, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet, opening it up.
"Which one?" He asked then, looking over at Nick.
Looking on stage, he shrugged. Not really in the mood for any dances, but his blood was still pumping after the event from earlier. He just sipped his drink. "Next time, not in the mood tonight."
"After whining outside, you're turning it down?" He asked, a look of disbelief on his face.
"Have you not seen these women?" He gestured up, sitting forward a bit more. He then sat back once again, lowering his arm.
"Fuckin' homo."
Rolling his eyes, he gave a small grumble himself, shaking his head.
"Unlike other people, I don't need to pay women to get them." He retorted sharply.
"It's a dance, not a whore!" He argued.
I hate when he gets like this. Ruins my fucking night. Pansy. Grumbling something under his breath, he took out some bills and shoved his wallet back into his pocket. Hailing down the waitress once again, he ordered three shots. Pissed enough to pay for his drinks.
Standing up, Nick followed the waitress to the bar, carefully maneuvering around the patrons milling about. While she fixed the shots, he chatted with her, apologizing for any rude behavior on Francis's part.
I still don't need to pay for someone to sit on my lap.
Francis tore his eyes away from the dancers, noticing Nick leaving his seat. He frowned, watching the girl shrug, reply with a smile before laughing.
Won`t buy a dance but he'll talk up the waitress? Cocksucking prick.
After a few minutes, shots sitting almost forgotten for the moment, he laid his hand gently on her lower back, smiling over something she said. Another minute later and he was bringing over the shots Francis had ordered, a napkin sticking out of his pocket with the waitress's number written on it. Sitting down, he just smirked over at Francis, handing him the shots.
Francis was pissed. It was on his face, in his demeanor and how he downed the first shot straight, no salt or lemon.
"The FUCK was that?"
Nick just shrugged his shoulder, the smirk growing.
"That was just a friendly conversation, that's all." He slid his gaze over to Francis, enjoying how upset he was getting over a simple phone number.
"You were playing her!" he shouted over the music. On stage, one of the dancer's gazes lingered on the two of them briefly.
Giving a low dip of her chin before twirling, she'd signaled a bouncer about a worrisome possibility.
"Fuck. Every time!"
Laughing he shook his head.
"I wasn't playing anyone, you're just pissed off that I actually get women, and keep them, if I want to." He flicked Francis's bicep, showcasing several long gone names.
Jaw setting, his eyes flashed dangerously. "Back the fuck off of those. You couldn't actually keep a broad, face it!"
"Last time I checked, I had one, and have had one for the last year." He retorted, taking one of the other man's shots, slugging it back just to antagonize him further.
"Says you. Reason you moved here again was why?" He asked, trying hard not to just go over the table at him.
Instead, he took his last shot.
"Not for the reason's you think of." He retorted.
Settling back into his chair, he smiled at the waitress from earlier when she passed by, getting one in return with a lingering gaze.
Francis reached over, quickly cuffing the back of Nick's head.
"She's fuckin' the milk man."
Spilling some of the drink he was sipping as he watched the waitress, he wiped his mouth and chin clean, glaring over at Francis.
"I think your confusing Beth with your mother again." He retorted.
The waitress gave out a bit of a soft laugh, trying to hold it back before turning away to serve some other customers.
"Leave my mother out of this."
While it was just a little cuff, he suddenly felt profoundly better.
"Besides. You're fuckin' married."
Never actually caring whether Nick was faithful or not, he just liked point those things out. The waitress walked past while hearing that, giving Nick another glance; not so friendly.
Francis smirked.
Catching the look from the waitress, Nick turned angrily back to Francis. "Shut the fuck up, why the hell do you even care? Last time I checked, you weren't all that faithful with your women either." He retorted.
"I was when I was with 'em." He shrugged. "Maybe not when I worked but that's part of the job."
He flashed a 'chipper' grin.
"If you're so fuckin' pissed...go talk to her. It's the only thing you're good for!"
"I will when she isn't busy, maybe I'll even get her number too!" He nodded towards the dancer Francis had been eyeing.
"Think she'd rather be with someone who understands the concept of water and soap."
Francis stood up, hands on the table as he leaned towards Nick. "...I had a shower this morning." He said lowly, enough for Nick to hear.
"Stay the fuck away from her." He straightened up, stalking towards the bar, knocking into another person while doing so.
"Hey man! Watch it!"
"Fuck you, shrimp."
The guy was probably around twenty-two, wearing baggy pants, a tank and a shirt over it. He was a bit lanky, but the look worked for him.
Here we go...Nick quickly finished the rest of his glass, waiting for the evitable fight that would happen when he saw the younger guy swaggering back over to Francis. Well, it was fun while it lasted...
Two retorts between Francis and the kid before the guy threw a punch at the heavily tattoo'd man. Francis, for his part looked caught between being amused and unimpressed.
In the end, he just grinned as he caught the 'kid's' fist, using the momentum to throw him. Right into a table full of other men. The table flipped over, drinks flying as the men jumped back, backing into others, knocking over a waitress in the process.
They all eyed the kid, then Francis, shouting at him. Nick just paused in the background, waiting to see how this would all turn out. Francis actually looked a bit worried for the waitress, but that was quickly erased when he heard the shouting.
"Self defense!" he yelled back, arms held outwards as though the argument actually meant anything. Turning away, he stood at the bar. "I'll have three more tequila shots. No lemon, no salt."
One of the guys stormed over, laying a heavy hand on Francis's shoulder, spinning him around. As he turned, the guy's fist connected with Francis's face. Francis' head twisted with the force of it. Straightening up, he looked back over to the guy; face already bruising. He swiftly returned a punch to the guy's stomach, pressing upwards as he did so. As the fight progressed, Nick tried to see how long Francis could keep it going on his own, but it wasn't long before the original offender and the table of guys joined in. Groaning, Nick hurried over. Pulling a guy off of Francis, he tossed him into the bar, throwing a punch to his jaw before turning back around to help some more.
By this time, the dancers had stopped, trying hard to keep away from the 'action.' The waitress Nick was talking with earlier set down some drinks for a table away from the fight, turning and watching herself.
Francis gave out a laugh, elbowing one guy in the head before bringing his foot up to kick away another. The bar staff had long since backed up; someone on the phone while the bouncers came over to try to break things up. It didn't help things when Francis hauled off and punched one of them in the nose.
"Francis, the cops are gonna be showing up soon!" He yelled, kneeing the other bouncer, knocking up aside when he doubled over.
"Fuck! I was just-" he coughed when a punch connected with his own stomach, another fist connecting with his head; blood spurting out of his mouth.
"Yeah you were just leaving!" He yelled again, grabbing Francis by the vest and hauling him toward a back door behind the bar.
"Get your hands off me!" He shook himself away from Nick as they rushed back out into the rain.
It was still pouring heavily as they beat down the sidewalk, a few pissed off patrons filing out to give chase.
At least the number had been drastically cut down.
"Down this way!" He called over to him, trying to evade them in the rain.
It wasn't that he wouldn't have minded finishing the fight, but the last thing he wanted to do was slow down enough to give the cops time to catch up to them. Yells from behind as Francis ran around the corner into the alley. At least it wasn't blocked at the end of it.
"Fucker just insulted my mother!" Francis slowed, turning to head back.
"I fucking insult her on a daily basis! Know why? Cause she deserves it!" He yelled back at him, continuing on down the alley way.
"You wanna move your slow ass or what?"
He felt his ears heat at that as he turned back, now making a run right for Nick.
He'd had it, really. All those pot-shots towards his hygiene, charisma and his mother in a single night.
His little victory forgotten, he wanted to see Nick in pain.
Turning back, hearing the footsteps gaining up he sighed, muttering under his breath as he did so.
"About fucking time..."
Just as he saw Francis behind him he saw the man lunge for his middle, without having a chance to dodge the attack, he felt the wind knocked out of him as his back and head connected with the wet pavement.
A fist was brought down hard. It was followed by another.
"I. Have. Had. It!"
He shifted, pinning the man down underneath his weight as he punched once more. When he wanted to be, he was pretty efficient and swift with his fists. Nick felt a tooth come loose somewhere in the back of his jaw, and he felt blood running down his throat as his head whipped to the side, then the other as the pummeling continued.
Struggling against the heavier man, he tried to retaliate.
"Think you're god damned perfect! You're shit!"
Punch, punch-
He was hauled off then, staggering back.
"Get the fuck off him!"
The three guys had caught up to Francis and they each had a good chance to punch him. It wasn't long before one of them met with pavement as Francis hauled off and retaliated.
"I'm busy!" Fuckers interrupting business...
Rolling onto his side, Nick spit out the blood, coughing. Groaning, he carefully crawled back up to his feet, wiping his face clear of any blood or dirt from the ground and added his fist to the flurry of those left attacking Francis.
"I fucking help you and you fucking attack me?"He yelled at him.
Francis staggered a bit, the flurry of fists finally starting to catch up. He shoved another away, kicking him as he went down. Managing to block another's fist momentarily, he spat out some blood before bringing back his elbow, trying to connect with Nick. He didn't really hear much what his partner had said, rage deafening anything other than the sound of fists, feet and bone. Drawing away to avoid the elbow, Nick paused as the sight of blue and red flashing lights caught his attention. He turned to dash, pausing as he gave a moment's thought to Francis and if he should leave the asshole to be arrested.
Cursing loudly, he ran back over. "Cops are here, fuck off and let's go!"
Giving one last punch, dropping a man into unconsciousness he looked over at the lights, cursing.
He staggered a bit more, liquor having hit him a bit ago. He pressed his palm to his head while turned towards Nick before starting to run towards the other end of the alley. Keeping a few paces ahead of Francis, he lead the way through alleyways and city blocks until he was sure they had lost them in the haze of the rain. Still leading them on a little longer, Nick finally turned back to Francis.
"The fuck was that about back there?"
Now he was wiping the blood and rain away from his face.
"You!" He swiftly jabbed Nick's chest before continuing to walk on. Rain felt nice, though it stung like hell.
"Thinking you're better than shit!" he spat.
"Maybe 'cause I am?" He retorted, walking beside Francis as he rubbed the back of his neck with annoyance.
"Fuck Francis, that's the fifteenth damn bar you've gotten us kicked out of! We're running out of places to grab a drink!"
He gave Nick a slight shove before shrugging.
He was starting to wind down now that the adrenaline was leaving his body, being replaced with the swim of liquor.
"We've got another twenty." he replied with instead.
"Yeah but if you keep that up we won't for long." He grumbled, pulling out a cigarette and attempting to light it several times before giving up with an angry snarl.
"I fucking hate rain!" He cursed.
"Join the club, pansy. At least it doesn't ruin my clothes." He groused, looking over at Nick.
"Explain that to me, exactly how am I pansy? And besides, I prefer looking good to looking like...something the cat dragged in."
"I just said it! Real men don't wear clothes that get ruined in the fucking rain. And they don't worry about mud, either. Fuck you're stupid."
He shook his head before pausing.
"Hear that?" he asked.
About to bite back, he grumbled but slowed down and tilted his head.
"Hear what?"
"Thought I heard sirens. Think they're still searching?" He asked.
Surely the pigs have something more fucking important.
"Fucking hope not." He checked his watch and grumbled.
Beth is either going to be fucking pissed I'm not home, or happy because she'll get more boy toy time in.
"We should soon split up."
"Right. You gotta make sure your wife's fucktoy is out of there before you stick it."
On a more serious note, he nodded.
"Meet up on Gregson?" he asked for tomorrow.
Choosing to ignore the barb, he nodded.
"Yeah," he looked around for a moment. "Later." Turning down a street, he pulled out his phone, giving her a call.
"Whatever."
He watched Nick for a moment in the rain before turning and heading down another way. He knew this city like the back of his hand.
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Guiding Way