fireontherun

[fireontherun]

The Resurrection

Gabe: They say your life flashes before your eyes when you die. Everything from Jersey to Jolene Fitzgerald (first kiss) to my dead dog Shredder runs the gamut. I've got a megafuckton of regrets, the biggest of which being that I didn't take those lives in Kandahar before they ruined so many others. Followed in a close second by sparing the janitor's life back there. I sure as shit don't regret Julia. It's lights out, alright, as my vision tunnels on her face. It's her face I'll take to my grave. I try to reach for her, but my arms aren't working. Julia feels further and further away from me, hiding just behind a veil of shadow. Funny, as in ironic; it doesn't even hurt anymore, except inside my chest. That shit burns like a motherfucker. Can't she hear me screaming through my teeth? AGH! JULES! It spreads like wildfire through my veins, incinerating my skin. Or does it? She's not reacting like I've combusted. It's something in her voice. I can't see her; can't feel her. I don't know, but it's like she's lost hope. Julia, I can hear you! Jules! By the time the flames have cooled, that's when I start to come to. It's when I start to get a sense of my surroundings, cold and sterile, and I realize that I'm not dead. Yet. I should be, but I'm not. "Ack-hack! Gabriel. That's my name." I'm hoarse, and my eyes don't wanna focus, but...the bullet wounds are gone. "Gabe." Julia: {My eyes had closed, surrounded by the suffocating feeling of being alone in this world yet again. Those all too brief moments I got with him becoming a dull heavy heartache I knew I would carry for a very long time. Slowly, I start registering the oddest of sounds. Why does it sound like someone is breathing near me? He's dead, Jul. Stop this. I rub at my weary eyes, when he coughs. My eyes widen into saucers as I do a double take. Sitting up like a lightening bolt and staring at his body on the ground, dumbstruck at the fact that he just /coughed/. Wait. Gabriel? How is he. How the fuck is he. He just died. In front of me. HOW IS HE?! I'm frozen in shock, staring dumbly at him. Yeah, he's definitely breathing, his chest is moving. And he just told me his name? I don't know what just happened or what the fuck is what. With shaking hands I reach toward him, pressing my fingers where the bulletholes had been. Where I had my fingers /in/ your chest an hour ago.} G...Gabe? What. I don't. I don't understand. You. You died. I what. {My vision gets blurry at this point, I'm sweating...yes, from my eyes. Cut me some slack I just watched someone die in front of me that was, from what I could tell, a decent man, and it was all my fault.} I...don't understand. Gabe: With a grimace, I start to sit up, expecting an excruciating amount of pain. And there's nothing; not even a pulled muscle. Looking from her hand to her face, I press her fingers into my would-be wounds. "I don't either, baby girl." A half smile quirks my mouth sideways. "You saved me?" I move to kiss her mouth, thinking better at the look of terror in her eyes. Instead it's her forehead where my lips land. "I was a goner, right? I saw the bright light at the end of the tunnel and everything, but then there was this feeling like I was being burned alive. And /poof/. Healed." Once the fog wears off, the curiosity of the moment wears thin, replaced by an obsessive interrogation: "Were you hit? Were you followed? What happened to the assclown in the glasses? Shit, we need to move. They'll be all over us like bees. I mean it; we've gotta run, Jules." Julia: {His hands over mine, his kiss on my forehead...I just watched someone get resurrected. I don't know what the hell was in that protocol and I don't really have time to consider the difference between it's effects on me versus its effects on Gabe, because he's right, they'll come after us. If there was anyone that saw that guy dose him with my protocol, he will be every bit as in danger of being turned into an experiment as I am. But...I can't think about that now. I lean into Gabe, needing just one small tether to the ground by way of his mouth on mine. My lips conveying all my feelings of desolation from earlier and my utter joy now, at not being condemned to isolation even if this is only temporary...I'll take what I can get.} Gabe, you scared me. Gabe: Our lips are right back to where they were earlier this morning. It was this morning, wasn't it? Two...ish? My hands cup her face. I brush the hair off her face, tasting tears in her kiss. I can't put into words how damn good it feels to hear her call me Gabe and not some mission-appointed codename. "I know, and I'm sorry. Scared the shit outta me, too, baby girl." With a heavy sigh, my forehead rests against hers. We're not done with that kiss; not by a longshot. "I thought that was it; I'd failed. All I wanted was to keep you out of their hands and I delivered you straight to them, so I had to get you out. Going out while doing it seemed like a good idea...at the time. Looking back, /not so much/." I lift her to her feet, which given the volume of blood I'd lost, shouldn't be possible. I should be in a state of hypovolemic shock. "We could use some whee--Aha!" Leading Julia to one of the /company cars/, I disable the GPS tracking and hotwire the engine. "Where to?" Julia: {If there was time for me to melt over the gentle way Gabe held my face, I would have reveled in it. I had /never/ been touched with anything but the cruelest, most sadistic of motives. But we just don't have time. I'm right behind you, my steps cautious but hurried, swiftly hopping in the car and buckling up. Evac route from the city? Yeah, I can do that. Feeding you directions, turn by turn, keeping my eyes peeled for signs of anyone tailing us until we make it to the borders. Only then do I relax a little, only then allowing myself to reach over to your side of the front seat to touch my fingertips to your hand, resting on the seat between us, an unspoken request.} I have a safe place a few hours away. I guess your mother wasn't into astronomy after all, Gabe. Gabe: I'd made sure she was behind me, every step of the way, though I'd put myself between her and any danger in a heartbeat. Even if it's something as easily overlooked as a seatbelt. Sure, I might have a juvie record for lifting cars, but that'd been expunged as soon as I'd turned eighteen. My past is full of surprises, and it looks like my future will be, too. "You caught me." My hand wraps around hers, bringing her fingers to my lips. I never noticed how warm they were. "Naw, it's a biblical thing. God's messenger, you know? Ma had great plans for what I oughtta become. That, and she had a thing for García Márquez's stories. All that tragic romance, isolationism, blah blah blah." My thumb caresses her fingers as the idle chat and the drive stretch on, the miles compounding until we near her safe house. "Still don't know much about each other, do we?"

[fireontherun]

Saving Grace

Gabe: Reclaiming my fallen Beretta, I’m on her heels like some loyal puppy. “Come again? Jul…i…ahohshit.” I don’t even make it three more steps before I fall to a knee, feeling doped beyond belief. I try to shake it off. I try to reach her, but my hand goes for my gun and it’s lights out. “Hun-GABRIEL!” I shout, coming to in the back of a government-issue Suburban, windows blacked out. Of course. “Welcome back, Mr. Nash.” I look around for Julia, my eyes narrowing into a glare. “She’s fine. She’ll be arriving in more /secure/ transportation, Mr. Nash.” Fortunately for the suit next to me, my arms are flex-cuffed behind my back. “You’re quite the catch. Former Sergeant Nash of the 75th Ranger Regiment. Wanted on five counts of aggravated homicide, violation of the Geneva Convention, i.e. rules of engagement; need I go on? You’re looking at, what? Consecutive life sentences? If not a needle…” He closes the file, giving me a smug once over. I’m giving his Suburban a once over, looking for weaknesses. “The United Stares Government would like to thank you for your service, son. Consider this your dismissal.” Of all charges? Well I’ll be goddamned. “So that’s that? And Julia?” He adjusts his horn-rimmed glasses. “Government property returned to the rightful hands. Juliet-6 won’t be going anywhere for a /long/ time.” I get a lump in my throat. “You see now; that’s unfortunate.” And before he can even shit himself, I’m out of the cuffs, with his own sidearm pushed into his temple. “They keep driving or my finger here slips. Take me to her!”

Julia: {My last image of Jupiter replaying in my drug induced dreams, with a groan but feeling really hung over. Why can’t I move?} Jupiter, you’re heavy. {Mumbling as I blink my eyes open, my heart sinking immediately and my panic setting in. I know these walls. Or at least walls like these. Looking down at my body only confirms what I knew would be in place. Special government-issue fire proof restraints designed just for me, and an intravenous line poking in my arm. The bag would be secured somewhere behind the wall pumping a cocktail of whatever they wanted it to. I knew there were cameras somewhere, and that they were watching. They always watched me. All those years spent in a lab, I never got a second of privacy. I hoped they let Jupiter go, but since I knew the kind of monsters they were, I knew better than to think I they had. Forcing myself to not relive how his kisses felt or especially that last gentle one on my temple. I couldn’t ruminate. The only way I’d survive is by shutting completely down. Taking a deep breath as I did just that. My face growing expressionless as I waited for the monsters to begin their tortuous games. I only had to wait minutes before a man I hadn’t seen before walked in. The way he studied me as if I was a rare specimen made my insides crawl. “Juliet-6. We have been looking for you for quite some time now. Welcome home.” I continued staring at him with absent eyes as he continued. “We have several new protocols that we have come up with, you’ll be starting the first, well, right about now.” As soon as he finished his sentence, his mouth twisted into a sadistic smirk and I what felt like hell if it was frozen, worked it’s way through the i.v. in my arm. I locked my jaw holding in the scream that wanted to come, it was just that excruciatingly painful but I couldn’t give them the satisfaction. Fucking animals.}

Gabe: I might get inside the level 5 security death house, but getting us out? That’s a one-way ticket, my friend. I hadn’t thought this through. Like, at all. I’ll blame the nice cocktail of stabilizers, tranqs, and amphetamines running through my veins on the lack of foresight. “Keep walking if you wanna live.” I use Glasses here as my human shield for mowing down anyone who reaches or gets in my way. Wait–Janitor. “Not your day to die, man! Go on! Get outta here!” One last door. “Open it!” A punch to the kidney should persuade him. “NOW! Fuck it!” I take his key card and do it myself. “Jules?” The sight of her strapped to a table pisses me the fuck off, raising the ire in me to epic proportions. The fucktard standing over her gets a slug in the brain, and Glasses gets kicked to the wall. “Don’t. Move! DO NOT MOVE! Julia? Julia!” I find the release for her straps. My peripheral doesn’t move from asshat as I start pulling cords, tubes, and–BANG! Funny. That sounded like a gunshot. But Glasses is over…and I didn’t leave anybody but “The janitor?” BANG! BANG! I throw myself over Julia, protecting her. It doesn’t register that I’ve been hit twice until my knees give out. At least the first shot missed. “Not. Like. This…” And at least I’m taking the fucking janitor with me. I lay in a pool of my own blood, starting to choke on my own blood. “Jules. Go. Run. Baby g–”

Julia: {The protocol they gave me was one hellacious torture game. It left me weak, disoriented, and came so very close to making me that level of compliant they had always wanted. I wanted to beg for mercy, it hurt so bad. At full strength I would have already incinerated this place, no quarter for anyone here. That anyone could put another human being through such hell…they deserved to be wiped off the face of the earth. I hear the door crash open but I’m paralyzed. My eyes catch visions of Jupiter in the edges of my vision, but as heavy as this stupor is, I think I’m dreaming. It isn’t until I hear the gunshots, and feel hands freeing me, that I actually believe it’s real. My limbs don’t want to cooperate, and what I wouldn’t give to be able to disappear to safety instantly with Jupiter. My brain feels sluggish as I get off that hated table, and that’s when the nightmare goes from bad to worse. I am powerless, able to do nothing but watch as Jupiter gets shot. Fuck me, why would he cover me like that?! Why did he even come for me? No one has ever, /ever/ done anything for me unless it was part of an end game strategy. My hand gently strokes his face as I try against all hope to call forth any trickle of a flame. Removal could happen later, stopping the blood flow was critical now. I feel water in my eyes as it hits me the possibility that he just willingly walked into his death for me.} I’m not taking that debt, Jupiter. {I’m muttering under my breath, and I am feeling enraged…the tiniest spark appearing at the end of my fingertip. Yes! I siphon every last bit of whatever reservoir that I can concentrating on one focused flame through my palm, I lay over the gushing bullet holes on his chest, stopping the flow instantly. I’m so grateful he is unconscious, I have no idea how he would react if he knew about my fires. And now was just not a good place to have that conversation. Concentrate, Jul. Stopped bleeding out? Check. Evac? In progress. Sighing as I gauged how heavy he was. If it wasn’t for adrenaline…out the door, down the hallway, then I hit a roadblock. And by roadblock I mean, guard with a needle’s worth of whatever they were putting into my iv. He thought he could shoot me up and neutralize, in his arrogant stupidity he missed and plunged that syringe full of my hated poison into Jupiter instead. I dropped him on the ground, turning on the guard in a second. And by turning on, I mean, I lit him up like the Fourth of July. He was a pile of screaming smoldering ash in less than a minute flat. I had to stand away from Jupiter until I could safely touch him again. That was the bad part of turning into fire, body temp went high, collateral damage was possible. I dragged Jupiter out of the building, smashing security panels along my way until I finally reached the outside. If I was alone, this place would not exist anymore, but I wouldn’t risk the time it would take for it’s destruction when every minute would likely end up counting for him. Evac? Check. Rolling down the garage style door down behind us, a tub of first aid in the trenches type supplies on the floor next to Jupiter. He can’t be dead. That? Can’t happen. I’m slicing clothes open, cleaning off blood, digging out bullets, stitching closed using every trick I know from my medical book of knowledge and the help of my flame, trying desperately to save him. I work until my eyes start seeing double, tears pooling at the creases. I scream in frustration, hitting a fist hard against his chest. Saving Jupiter? Looks like I failed. I lay down next to him on the ground. My hands still bloody, all that adrenaline spent and I’m crashing hard. My memories of him very much alive, those hours spent together before I got captured, those kisses, that intimacy that was shared as we took pleasure from each other’s bodies…He was full of life, and strength…and now? It was my fault he was lying dead here on the floor.} I’m sorry, Jupiter. I’m…so sorry.

[fireontherun]

Where there's smoke

Julia: {When you're constantly on the run, you don't have the luxury of ever being comfortable. You don't always know the date, or how long you'll have in the place you're at. Circumstances can change on a dime, and if you decide to ignore a bad feeling you get, well, that could blow right up in your face. Its been five years since I escaped the last time and while I hope I can stay ahead of their end game, I never let myself forget what being in their hands was like. To them, I wasn't a human, I was an experiment. Hurt me until I went up in flames. If they could find a way to control my fire, they could control me. And worst case scenario, I would become a walking weapon that would be sold to the highest bidder. Five years ago, I threw a wrench in their plans by escaping compliments of a industrial fire I orchestrated, that burned so hot everyone and everything in the facility was reduced to ash. Standing in a dirty alley, I could hear the guards pleading to leave, plain as day, even if it was just a painful memory, years and miles away. A spark caught on the tips of my fingers and I quickly extinguished it, casting a glance around to be sure that no one had witnessed that. Discovering I was different could and had led to my capture before. No one could be trusted. I learned that lesson the hard way, and had a couple scars on my back as a permanent painful reminder. I blew out a deep breath and sunk deeper in the shadows and froze in place, my eyes watching as the stranger I had identified as a potential risk. He passed my hiding spot and my fear escalated. Fuck. He was definitely military. I made out at least three weapons, and I was sure there were more that I couldn't identify placement of. I counted in my head to thirty before slowly and stealthily moving from my location to follow my identified target. I would have to be even more careful with this follow since he was clearly not a civilian. I needed to know if he was here looking for me, or just passing through. I hoped the latter, because given the physique of that guy, it would not be a fun fight if push came to shove. I followed his moves for several minutes, stopping far enough behind he shouldn't have any suspicions, at least I hoped. Finally l, my pursuit paid off, my mouth formed a smile as I saw him enter a motel room with a key card.} Gotcha. {I whispered happily to myself, memorizing the room number and planning on going back later to search his room for intel. Nodding once and moving swiftly away from the man I'd been stalking and his hotel room feeling pretty pleased with myself.} Gabe: We'd fucked up in Kandahar. Uncle Sam sure as fuck wasn't gonna let us forget that; but a court-martial? Fuck if I was gonna let some paper pushing bureaucrat sign my death warrant. Seventeen months on the LAM, and I'd decided bounty hunting was the way to go. This project Juliet-6 the US government had its panties in a wad over looked to be my ticket outta "deadman walking" territory: track and locate the package, detain, neutralize if necessary. Seemed easy enough, but the days turned into weeks, weeks into months with still no leads, no sign of a populous-neutralizing weapon. Until an accident at a dispensary in Colorado caught my attention. How does the cause of a fire remain undetermined...in a place that deals pot? Fast forward over a few minor details to now, and the target, the sexy little arms courier who's only crime appears to be fucking the wrong guy--Yep, she's falling nicely into my trap. She thinks she's tailing me, but she's really tailing my decoy to the truckers' motel off the interstate. I slip out of the adjoining room, waiting for the opportunity to corner her, and when I do, her first clue is the sound of my gun cocking into her back. "Don't move. Just tell me where you've got the weapon stashed. Nobody needs to get hurt here, Sweetheart." Julia: {I thought I was clear. I thought everything would be fine, I could get in and get out and vanish into thin air like I had done a hundred times before. Until I felt a gun at my back and I knew I had made a mistake. Stiffening instantly, as I worked through all the angles how to get out of this without a bullethole, preferably. Turning my head to stare up at him. He was even bigger up close. And the intensity of his stare did not send a flush of warmth through me. Really not the time, Jul.} I think you've got the wrong girl, but if you're nice to me, /maybe/ I'll not make you sing soprano for a few weeks. {I turn around real slow, my eyes locked on his gun hand, ready to run if needs be, but hoping I can use my intellect to get out of this one unscathed. I still wasn't sure what all he knew so how much I could bluff, was still up in the air at the moment.} Gabe: "Make /me/ sing soprano? That's funny. You see, last I checked; I was the one with the gun, chica." Okay, so she's /really/ fucking sexy up close. And feisty to boot. "Don't. Move." I hold the gun on her, get her up against the wall, and give her a quick pat-down with the other. "You're not packing? Look, what's your name? Do you know where your boyfriend's keeping it? Is it at the club? Can you take me to him?" Or maybe I'll start slower and see if she can keep up. "What is /your name/?" Julia: "His hand never so much as wavered, and a rock steady gun hand was really bad news for me. I started to lick my lips nervously as my back pressed against the wall behind me. Think Jul. Your hands lingered a fraction of a second between my thighs in that pat down of yours and my body had a very visceral reaction. My gaze narrowing on your face. Trying not to absorb the details of your face as a woman would, because I don't really have time for...wait. Boyfriend? What boyfriend? My ears perked up as I thought on that one. The way you asked my name, would have made me laugh if it hadn't included a gun still pointing at me.} Just how bad do you want to know what's in my head, Ace? {I lean towards you, dropping my voice into an intentionally sensuous tone.} Do I get to pat you down now, or do you want to search me again? You know, in case you missed something... Gabe: Wait? Did she just? Is she? Is she /hitting/ on me? Some guys might get distracted from the mission at hand, but not me. I won't let this chick throw me off the hunt, especially if that's what her handlers want. A honeypot like her? Yep, she's designed for distraction. "Call me Jupiter. Or Jupe. Not Ace. Not Bud, Buddy, Mack, or Bub. And I didn't miss anything; trust me." I want answers. I want freedom from the land of the free. I realign my sights down her center mast, growing impatient. "Tell me what I need to know. I know you know about Juliet-6, so we either talk here or we talk someplace quiet; and you won't like someplace quiet, baby girl." I listen for movement around me, nostrils flaring, expecting an ambush. "Is Juliet-6 at the club? Is it at The Qube?" Julia: {And just like that, this whole dance we were doing escalated into red flag territory. Juliet-6? A code name I hadn't heard in years, but thanks to the number branded on my hip, I'd never forget it. I'm staring icily at you now, the gun ignored. He knows my designation, knows I'm supposed to be a weapon, but...doesn't know I am Juliet-6? Interesting, and I'm at a loss as to how exactly to play this, when you hand me my out with gold ribbon.} Alright, /Jupiter/. You can call me Angel. Let's not get messy with our real names. I don't have a boyfriend, but if you wanted to ask me out, you'd be in my panties by now if you didn't bring the gun. {I glance around, conspiratorially, leaning so far into you, pushing my chest against your gun hand, my breath tickles your face, speaking softly so you really have to pay attention to my mouth.} We can't talk about this here. Sitting ducks, you know? You want Juliet-6, take me to the club. {My lips curve into a sultry smile, while inwardly I'm ecstatic. Clubs equal lots of distractions and I only need one to get away from you. I don't know what lies you've been fed about Juliet-6, about /me/, but something is definitely rotten in Denmark.} Gabe: "Oh yeah?" I can't help but smirk, giving my imagination the thirty-second latitude to explore what that might be like if she were telling the truth. Which she's not. "🎶Just call me angel of the morning, Angel..." I scoff at her chosen nickname, whistling the rest as I grab her by the arm, jamming the gun up into her side. "How do you know my name isn't really Jupiter? Maybe my mom went through an astrology phase." She's no angel; that's for damn sure. Still, what she's got going on under those clothes makes a man appreciate sin. "C'mon. The club's not far. But you /know/ that." Julia: {You've got a sense of humor. Great. I was about to roll my eyes, when you moved your placement of that annoying gun, and a little bit too heavy handed as it digs into my side. I bruise easy, so that's going to leave a mark. My unease is growing at just how determined you are at completing whatever your assignment is. What happens if you find out that I'm what you're looking for? With a quiet smile, still hoping against a rapidly decreasing hope, that I can somehow use my physical attributes to tempt you into letting me go, or distracting you for long enough that I get the same result. Slipping my legs apart as I curl my hand around the gun in your hand, my shirt revealing just enough of my cleavage to say "come and get me". I'll be compliant for the time being simply because I don't have any other choice.} Right, Angels always hang out in clubs. You want me to go willingly, lose the over compensation hand piece for your dick. Gabe: Does she really think she's gonna pull the old James Bond love em and leave em, get em outta the way shit on me. It's like the analogies in grammar school; squirrel:shiny object :: men:breasts. "Ooh. Hitting me where it hurts, Ang. But, uh...in order to be overcompensating, you've gotta be packing something smaller than the beretta M9; you know what I'm saying?" Okay, so /maybe/ I tuck the gun into the pocket of my hoodie, but I'm not loosening my grip on her arm just so she can--ShitPiss! A patrol car rolls by, sending me ducking into the nearest doorway, pulling my hood up over my head and half my face. "Keep walking." Sooner we get inside'll be better. Sooner I get through this, too... Julia: {I stare silently at you as you're...bragging about your dick...well then. I'm not going to be picturing what you're packing in those pants of yours. No. Walking? Okay. Pretending I didn't notice that awkward effort to hide from the patrol car that just passed.Hmm. Wonder what that's about. Tucking that away for later, I keep moving toward the club. I'm not sure why you think I would be here. Well, why Juliet-6 would be here. I didn't make a habit of...oh shit. Halfway to the bar I see two familiar faces. High level employees of the same "Doc" that was behind the experiments I endured for most of my life. They're at my two o'clock and you're at my six. I...have less than ten seconds before those monkeys see me. I spin, breaking free of your hold on my arm, and dive in. If I don't blend in now, I'll be strapped to a table in half an hour. It could be worse, at least you're not bad looking. My last thought before kissing you? If it doesn't work, my hand is closer to your gun.} Gabe: "Aw, naw. C'mon--What're you?" What the...fuck? I don't even have time to act. My hand reacts, bringing the gun, pocket and all, up into her chest, before it's calmed the hell back down by her pouty caramel lips. It's just a kiss, right? A damn fucking good kiss, but still just a kiss. Our lips snarl, struggling against each other in this fucked up little power play we got going. "Just can't keep your hands off me; can ya, baby girl?" My eyes scan the room for the real reason she's getting so friendly. Something's wrong here. Julia: {I blink up at you, my fingers touching my mouth, still feeling the force of yours. That, was possibly the worst thing I could have done is the last thought I had before I heard a voice that haunted my nightmares, my expression of terror unable to be hidden before I grab your arm and pulling you hard to come with me. At the resistance, I looked over my shoulder hoping they weren't close enough to grab at me, pleading you with my gaze.} Please, I'll explain outside. Just. Not. Here. Please. Gabe: Maintaining a periphery, my eyes settle back on her face, trying to get a good read. She's surprised even herself with that kiss. Or maybe she just didn't expect it to be that good? Okay, that was more than a flicker of fear of being caught in possession; more than the fear of my gun, which, surprisingly, she didn't show. A healthy fear of firearms is a respect for their power. And she? She's desperate to get out of here. Like, mortally desperate. My arm winds around her, pulling her within whisper range. We could pass for a couple of handsy lovers if there were trust here. "The weapon." I mutter, eyeing the men over her shoulder. It's gotta be close, but we're surrounded. I pull her by the waist, cutting through the crowd to the fire door. "Hold up." Spotting the pull station for the fire alarm "Just like high school." I give the handle a tug, and alarms blaring, sprinklers soaking, we make our exit with the crowd. "We've gotta get off the street." Julia: {That was just too close. I'm telling myself that's why I'm so rattled, it doesn't have anything to do with the taste of you lingering on my lips. They. Almost. Caught. Me. I'm probably shaking, as I run from the club with you, as soon as I'm in the fresh air, all exit routes I had preplanned rush into my memory and I'm leading you up one street and down another stopping outside an abandoned building, picking the locks, pushing you inside, and following right behind. I rest my forehead on the inside of the door, trying to stop trembling before I face you again. A slow breath in and out before turning around.} You almost got me killed, Jupiter. Angels aren't cats, I don't have nine lives, you asshole. Gabe: I'm watching her very carefully as she catches her breath. Me? I'm fine. I almost feel sorry for her. Until she opens that mouth. Kitty's got claws, alright. "How's that? Hey! HEY! You wanna rewind a sec? I just saved your ass back there! You had one job: point me in the direction of the motherfuckin' weapon! Huh? Cuz I don't think it's in...Dale's boot bonanza here!" I kick a box across the warehouse, sending a plume of dust flying. "I sure as hell don't see it! Where is it?" I fly up on her like any other enemy combatant in interrogation, pinning her to the door by her throat before I really realize what I'm doing. "WHERE. IS. IT? People will DIE! Do you get that?!" Slowly, I come to. My look softens to an icy stare and I remove my hand, blocking her against the door with my body. "Give me something. Please." Julia: {I wince as my back hits the door, your hand on my throat, squeezing the air from my windpipe. I'm clawing angry slashes at your hands and arms trying to get the vise-like hold off, a ton of memories of this happening before, so many times before, flooding my head. Nearly falling when at last I'm let go. At least my throat is released. You are still very much pinning me, this time it's with the massive form that is you. I'm gasping to regain the air I couldn't get moments before. After several long tense moments, I try to speak, my voice coming out a little on the hoarse side but getting louder with each word I say.} You want Juliet-6? You don't even know what she is. She isn't a weapon. She's a /person/. {I pause to take another deep breath, staring sorrowfully at you.} Gabe: "Person? You mean?" I stare at her as understanding breaks over my features. /She's/ the bargaining chip I've been hunting for over the past seventeen months? She's the key to freedom? "I've gotta take you in. I mean--" She looks so damned sad. Then there's the fear that clouded her eyes before. My freedom would mean her imprisonment. Which was different when /she/ was just an object, a gun or a bomb or something. "I'm sorry. Let me think. I need to think." I push off and take a step back, holding my hands up. "How? How are /you/ a weapon? Hm?" Wouldn't be the first time I'd been lied to in the name of progress, aka conquering the world. I rub my thumb and forefinger down my mouth, scratching at the scruff on my chin. "There's more to you than meets the eye, baby girl." Julia: {Filled with fear as I hear those dreaded words from your lips. No. Did I /really/ just run from the club to get handed right back to the very same men we left behind? Is this for real? I unzip my pants, pulling down on the waistband to show you the tattooed~~number six low on my right hipbone.} Identity can be confirmed by a specific scanner. Which I'm sure you don't have. {Moving to put my clothes back in order and continuing to stare you down. My body isn't reacting to him continuing to call me baby girl. Well, maybe it is, the damn traitor.} I don't want to be a weapon, why do you think I've been running? You can't turn me in. Please. Don't. Gabe: I'm a mix of flailing arms and averted eyes as she starts unzipping her pants. "Whoa whoa whoa-ho! What're you?" To show me the brand: courtesy of the US Government. After her little show and tell, I keep my eyes glued to the place that was just naked, still stuck on the lacy...whatever those were. Thong? G-string? Angel make you drool somethin' somethin'? "Yuh huh." I clear my throat and try to remember what we were talking about. Don't turn her in; right. I shake my head. "Yeah, but if I don't, /I/ can't/ stop/ running. Do you get that?" Of course she understands running. Who knows how long she's been isolated? What is she? And why is she so dangerous? "Are you a threat? I mean, who's to say I can trust you?" There's a shuffle and a can rolling outside, and by instinct I pull her away from the door, my finger to my mouth. Julia: {I wondered why your gaze was still glued to below my waist, and I glanced down, blushing when I realized my lace panties were still sort of visible. Closing my eyes against your words, hating what you were saying. Great. Your life or mine? Well I guess I'm back to being a human lab rat. That's. Just. Great.} You're asking how /you/ know if you can trust /me/? I'm not the one holding a missile over someone else's head. I already know what you're going to do, so just go ahead, return me to them. I don't know why you think I would tell you anything, when nothing I say will make a difference. All I am is a get out of jail free card, I'm not even a /person/ to you. {My voice is tinged with resignation when you grab me, causing me to stumble against you, feeling the heat of your so very muscular form right through your clothes. My eyes drift to your mouth and remember the way you kissed me back in the club. A frisson of heat spears through me, pooling wetness between my legs as my gaze rises to meet yours in heated silence.} Gabe: Will this chick ever shut up? Backing her against another wall, my hand clamps over her mouth, and I wait, listening for movement. "Shhh..." I take a peek through the dirty panes of a busted window. It must've been the wind or something. Nothing here smells /off/ to me. Taking my hand down, our eyes connect. Her words stung us both, cutting deep. "You have my word, Ang: I won't turn you in." I don't think I could live with myself. But that scene back at Qube? The frisk? Those, I could stand repeating. Her body is just too fucking close to mine not to feel nostalgic. Or riled up. Closer. Closer. Hands on either side of her, I move in for the kill--I mean kiss; well-past suffocating and buried hard between her lips. Julia: {I'm just...did he say he wouldn't turn me in? The words rattled in my head, but made no sense. Why would you say that? Either you're better at this game than I first thought, or...you're serious. My eyes narrow as I study you, forgetting everything the moment your face changes. Your arms boxing me in between the wall and you and the way you're looking at me as if you're suddenly hungry nearly makes me whimper out loud. The rough way you kiss me, as if my mouth holds all the secrets you've most wanted, makes me burn. My hands move upwards to rest on your chest as I half heartedly attempt to fight against your mouth's utter possession of mine, before the intensity simply tears my defense down, one swirl of your tongue against mine at a time. This is...bad. But oh so damn good and I don't want to stop. My thighs part ways and I slide one in between yours, wondering if this has your brain as much mush as mine.} Gabe: This is the one time the din of all the chaos inside my brain dies down, focusing on one determined cause. My lips wrestle with hers until we both need to breathe; and even then, I'm nipping at hers for more. Where she grinds, a rock hard bulge grows between her thighs. I can't help but wonder if that line about getting into her panties was true or not, so I discard the gun. And the jacket, the shirt, etc. With one fell swoop, I hoist her legs around my waist, pinning her between the wall and a sudden onslaught of half-starved kisses. I grind up into her, already on fire, itching to feel those wet, lacy thingamajigs. This is crazy! I know it's crazy! "I...want you." Julia: {By the time our mouths /finally/ separate, my lips are swollen from having been so thoroughly kissed, and I'm having trouble breathing your gloriously hard dick is rubbing me in all the right ways, and I know my panties...and my cunt for that matter, has got to be drenched. All reasonable thought has left my brain, all I can think about is how warm my skin is, and that painful ache that will only be relieved with you finding your way inside me. Nodding at your words, even as I whisper} I /need/ you. {My fingers fumble at the fastenings on your pants and mine...trying and failing to multitask, even as I return my mouth to yours seeking more of the way your lips and tongue can make me feel.} Gabe: My lips roll up into hers, smooth as butter, giving her a preview of what's to come, only less gruff. "Here, let me--" Keeping her in position with my hips, her legs already wrapped around me, I do away with the jeans, letting them drop to my ankles as I tear open her fly, ripping through the soaked panties underneath. Her scent fills the air right before I /spear/ her to the wall, burying my cock balls-deep inside her. And that's when the rougher fuck starts, slow and solid like a fist, raising her along the cracked plaster. This isn't the "oh baby" kind of sex, either. Neither one of us is really saying much. There's a lot of heavy breathing, and some whimpers, but it's all in the eyes. Our eyes are locked...and there's no going back. But the faster I buck, the more she bounces, tensing my spine. Julia: {Gasping when you drive into me, feeling like I might split in two. I didn't even get to admire what you'd been packing, but from the tiny twinge of pain as my cunt stretches around your cock, that was one very large package. Definitely wasn't overcompensating for /anything/. My body feels like it's on fire at the way you're relentlessly pounding into me. The friction on my insides with every stroke, creating a tempest of a storm inside me as the pleasure steadily and swiftly increases. Suddenly with one shift of my hips, the change in position stabbing right against my /instant/ orgasm button in /just/ the right way, and my head falls back, my climax overwhelming me, and moaning loud and long.} Fuck! Gabe: I've never had an encounter /quite/ like this before. Every time she bobs on my shaft it's like having white lightning shooting through my limbs. Her orgasm? Mind fucking blown; like nothing I've ever experienced. Her pussy becomes a vise on my dick and I think I can see literal sparks fly. Like, bulbs exploding around me kind of sparks. I might get distracted if it weren't for the moaning sex goddess writhing at the end of my cock, forcing me to empty my load. "Hoooly. Holy shit." My hips slow to a rolling stop as I collapse, and lean into her, trying to process what just happened. "This was--We should--We can't stay here." I kiss her temple, letting her feet touch the floor. I don't even know her real name. I just fucked a mark. And I don't even know her name. Back up go my jeans. Julia: {The kiss to my temple caught me more off guard than the way my body initially reacted to yours. I let myself lean against the wall while I refasten my jeans, my legs feel a bit shaky, and who knows where my panties went after they got ripped. My voice breaks the silence} Julia. {I shrug slightly, meeting your eyes as I head to the exit.} My name is Julia. Do you have a planned evac, or is this my show? {I swing the door open, and step out into the fresher air watching you only two steps behind me when I feel a sharp sting on my neck my fingers reach up to rub the pain away, and I feel the end of a tranq dart. Glancing over at you and I see that you are sporting an identical dart protruding from your shoulder. Shit. My eyes and body feeling heavy as I hit the ground, claimed by the darkness.}