Noir: Insight Into Bad Ideas

_Never hit a lady,_ my grandmother's voice keeps echoing in my head.

The dame can't seem to decide if she's going to sneer at me or give me a come hither look. She's waving the derringer like a parade flag. I sip, gag, cough, and somewhat recover.

_Never hit a lady._

If she doesn't want to be followed that means I'm a dead man. I don't like that idea--not why I got into this crazy business. I don't believe in curses, generally speaking, but this gem is seeming rather problematic.

_Never hit a lady._

"Any last words, my mysterious freund?"

I set the glass down carefully, "Only that I think your neckless is absolutely gorgeous. Amethyst?"

She looks down, and my grandfather's voice chimes in, _If someone starts waving a gun around, all bets are off._

She looks down, "Actually it's tourma..." I lung and start punching. Half my shots miss or deflect off, but a good few connect to her stomach while my other hand wrestles away the pistol.

On the bright side, I knew this was a bad idea right away.