Disclaimer: I own nothing and can promise you I won't be making anything from this. Even the title is a rip off of "A Bicycle Built for Two".
A/N: Hello Fanfiction, I'm not dead, I just haven't published anything in a couple of years (except for two Torchwood oneshots I co-authored with Ashimattack).
Don't ask me why this is my return to Fanfiction, this story certainly isn't the best thing I've written but it seems to be the only story I could write with a beginning, middle and ending and it's Kari and there's just not enough Kari out there.
So basically this is the story of what happened after Kate made the call at the farm house. I'm going to admit that this seems pretty illogical, I'm sure someone would come to pick up Kate and that she would have A LOT of paper work to complete after the day's events, nonetheless, I kind of like the idea and it won't seem to leave me alone.
A Motorcycle Built for Two
She considers that this may have been (part of) his plan all along. But then again, it may be simply a happy happenstance.
"Have you ever ridden a motor cycle before, Caitlin?" They've moved inside now, sitting at the kitchen table, he's still drinking his wine, she has an unopened bottle of water in front of her.
"No," she answers, she gets up and looks out the window, surely there has to be a car around here somewhere. After she'd called her friends at the secret service there had been so much commotion that everyone was too busy to get her. Even her team was too busy and the director would demand the paperwork be finished even if they found a minute. Besides, she'd been reminded by several different agents from multiple institutions, she was with an officer of the Mossad, she was safe. And so, Kate was stuck with this man in his lair.
"The men have taken all of the cars," he says with a smile that she wants to personally slap from his face.
"Maybe I can call a taxi," she offers.
"No, it's too suspicious. Drivers like to talk."
"And?"
"Caitlin, there are many terrorists in this country, you don't know what they're capable of. Please don't make this situation any worse than it already is. You can't imagine the damage control already. I'll take you, it's only a thirty minute drive."
"It took longer to get here, almost an hour," she estimates.
"Bassam drives like a girl," she can't help but think he's said that solely for her benefit, it works, he's pissing her off. "Besides, I meant to your apartment, not back to work."
Her eyes narrow as the realisation dawns on her: "You know where I live?" That damn smirk again.
"Let's go Caitlin; I have many things to attend to before tonight." Failing to find a witty comeback she simply follows behind him, slowly and suspiciously. She's surprised (and a little worried) when, instead of heading towards the garage they head towards a room (his, she assumes). She stops at the door. He smiles.
"Come in Caitlin," he says in a patronising and sing-song voice.
"Why are we here?" Her words sound a lot more forced than she'd intended. Ari doesn't appear to notice, doesn't even turn around, just keeps looking for something in the room. Eventually he turns around, his arm outstretched. He's holding a pair of leather pants. She eyes him suspiciously.
"For the motorcycle, unless you'd rather wear your skirt," her eyes follow his as they make their way down to said item of clothing. "Personally, I have no objections…" a slight pause for dramatic effect, she should hardly be surprised. "However, I think it might be a bit difficult," he hands her the pair of pants. She agrees, of course, with the latter part of the statement but would rather he not know that.
"You can leave now," Ari stands in place for what feels like ages and she briefly wonders what she can actually do if he stays put. He's taller than her, maybe a few pounds heavier and certainly stronger, finally he moves and she breathes out a sigh of relief. His footsteps stop when he reaches the door frame.
"Oh and the door is to remain open, Caitlin." She slams the door and can hear his laughter from down the hall.
They're leaving the farm house 20 minutes later.
"Ready, Caitlin?" She doesn't want him to know that she is a little bit worried. She knows Ari's an adrenaline addict; he probably drives like a madman. He revs the motor, "you look good in leather," before she has a chance to answer they're off, speeding down the gravel track to the highway.
The road is empty except for them but they can still crash into a lamp post, fence, sign post, or even just fall on a curve. He bends so close to the ground she's sure that if she wasn't wearing the leather pants she could have just shaved her legs this way. She wonders how alcoholic that wine he was drinking was, he'd seemed lucid enough earlier on but he wasn't controlling machinery with her on the back then. She's worried about her grip, the pants are alright but the shoes are a size or two too big and she's afraid they'll come off on one of the bends.
"Slow down! Slow down! Stop!" To hell with him knowing she's concerned, at this point she's sure if they don't stop soon she'll be the reason for on of those little crosses at the side of the road. He pulls off to the side of the road, then, slowly, pulls off his helmet.
"Were you saying something Caitlin?" She takes that opportunity to jump off the motorcycle.
"You're going to kill us if you keep driving like that."
"You don't trust me?" There's a glint to his eye when he says it. She can only roll her eyes in reply.
"Caitlin," his voice loses its arrogant quality momentarily. "You're safe with me." For a moment she forgets who she's talking with. "I promise to get you home safely," he raises three fingers in a sort-of scout's honour. "Besides, we're 60 miles out of D.C, there's no other way to get home," his voice has lost its soft touch and he's taking this opportunity to look her over. She wants to take a shower. She relents and gets back on the motorcycle, she has no intention of running, walking or hitchhiking the equivalent of two marathons.
"Now, Caitlin, if you are feeling unsafe, just hold on a little tighter," she wraps her arms around his torso just as he pulls back onto the road, cutting in front of a car in the process. She screams and tightens her grip; she can feel the rumble of laughter through his jacket.
When they finally arrive at Kate's apartment her nerves are completely shot and she's shaking just a little.
"What do you think of my driving, Caitlin?" He flashes a grin.
"Next time," she spits with venom, "I'll take a taxi and risk it." She removes her helmet, her hair is stuck down with sweat.
"Next time?" He asks with a grin.
"Shut up," she retorts, pulling her keys out and unlocking her door. She's too tired and hungry to play his stupid, flirtatious (because everything with him is) games. She'd had to leave her purse behind, only able to bring what would fit in the pockets of her jacket: her keys, badge, gun and credit cards. Her sister had bought her the handbag and purse and she knows they were worth a fair penny. Another reason she's less than impressed with this man.
"You're not going to invite me in for a drink, maybe a coffee?"
"There's a coffee shop down the road," she's watching his eyes, trying to figure out his game.
"I know."
"Then why did you ask?" She really doesn't have the patience for his games.
"Because, maybe I want a cup of coffee from you," her mouth tries for several seconds to form words.
"Didn't you say you have a lot to do for tonight?" She finally manages.
He studies her for a short time before answering, "Yes, but tomorrow I'm free." She slams the door and he hears the deadbolt lock. She stands behind the door, there's the laugh, of course, then the sound of a motorcycle and the screech of tyres and she hopes that is the last she will see of Ari Haswari.
A/N: Hey, so thanks for reading, hopefully it's not the worst thing you've ever read. I know the premise in this story is shaky, the more I think about it the less logical it seems, but yeah… Some of it I have reasons for and I just couldn't be bothered writing it in so feel free to review with any questions.
Part of me wants to make this into a two shot with Ari returning Kate's stuff, but I think that's just because I want to use the line: "They were very impressed that I managed to get an NCIS agent out of her skirt," Kate turns every shade of pink before finally deciding on a shade a touch darker than Annie's hair in the original movie. Of course, now that I've used that line I really have no reason to write it, also, I have no ideas.
Reviews are very much appreciated,
Thank you.