this is based on Speed, 1994 movie starring Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock, particularly the scene in the ending, when Annie is handcuffed to the pole in the train and Jack is there with her.

Please review! All comments appreciated. Also, write more speed fanfics! (: there's only like a pathetic 3 on this site.


She felt a rush of gladness and glee as he settled down beside her, and wrapped her arms around him. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down, but it was a colossal difficulty. Trembling, she extended her foot til it pressed tightly against the base of the fluorescent orange seats, and scooted near until she felt Jack's body near to hers. Hopefully they would be anchored down by her handcuffs. The train continued down the tunnel, careening at a speed that was making her head pound. And gosh, they were still on the goddamn track, wait til they got off, then…oh god.

Must not think of that. Must not. Must not.

But honestly, what could she do but think?

'You shouldn't have stayed.' She cursed her quaking voice inwardly as she whispered into Jack's ear. The sickening guilt rose in her like a tide, overwhelming her. 'you could have left! You had time! I'm so sorry Jack, it's all my fault, oh god Jack-'

'Shhh. I can't just leave you here.' His voice was perfectly calm and composed, and she found she was actually sort of glad he wasn't hysterical or something. That definitely wouldn't serve much to soothe her nerves.

'Thank you.' And she really meant it, with all her heart. He had stayed with her because of duty, moral obligation, but she couldn't be more grateful than if he stayed because he left for her. She couldn't bring herself to imagine what it would be life, if Jack had bounded off happily with nary a goodbye kiss and she was left with only herself and a train out of control, coupled with handcuffs that bit into her slender wrists, left them stinging. She couldn't imagine what it would be life here alone, whimpering to herself as she visualized her impending death over and over again, getting increasingly graphic, with nothing to hold on to, all alone.

She squeezed her eyes shut as the train continued on its journey. When she was young, dying in the most unorthodox fashion had seemed appealing to her—she had stated, to a horrified mother, that taking her last breath swathed in bedclothes and with family members all around weeping and clutching her hand was not her cup of tea, and would never happen. She was going to be stabbed in the head by a poisoned stiletto hell, she continued, or suffer an aneurysm while turning her head to retrieve the television remote. Perhaps she would asphyxiate to death in a cupboard she had hid herself in during hide-and-seek and had locked, and since it was in a previously undiscovered portion of the house, she would only be found a week later, eaten by Egyptian scarabs kept in a box in said cupboard. Or she would trip over the welcome mat of her residence and be impaled by a hockey stick. Somehow being flung around a train or crushed to death wasn't how she had imagined it. She wasn't even ready! Though, of course, the gorgeous, brave man that held her in his arms more than compensated for that.

Mmm.

It definitely felt good, to have his arms wound tightly around her shoulders. He shifted a little, almost imperceptibly, and it occurred to her that his arms were rather…delectable. She could feel the hard muscle, the harnessed strength, the restrained power; his palm was warm and rough against her back, one seemingly hewn for white-knuckled grips on a pistol. They were pressed tightly against each other, and she flushed, knowing that it really was a rather compromising position to be in, but honestly she didn't care.

He's trembling, she realized belatedly, as was she. He was human after all, and she knew despite the bravado and smooth-talking veneer he seemed perpetually to wear, he had a 

soft, human core. She had seen it, she recalled, when they had gotten off the bus safely, in his free grin, in the conflict and pain in his eyes as she was held in front of him, and his feelings contradicted what his training dictated, in the anger he had let out, how he swore when he thought he was helpless, they were helpless.

His smile had lit up his whole face, and accompanied with that deep, husky voice, at times worried, stern, confused, in jest, seething…he was so charming, and- oh god shit.

The train veered to the side, swaying dangerously. She buried her face in his shoulder involuntarily, her breath coming out in shaky gasps. He held her there as the train continued on its unplotted trajectory.

She felt the presence of his warm hand on her back and stiffened unconsciously, though, she reasoned, she was the one who had was resting her head on him now. A surge of gratitude overcame her, and it struck her—she loved him. Loved his smiling, crinkly, expressive eyes, loved his infectious, child-like grin, loved his attractive swagger, loved his dark hair, loved his sincerity and tenacity, loved how he was so brave, how he had saved her countless times, loved him fervently. This panache of his draw her to him, caught her at unawares, made her stumble, trip and fall utterly in love with him.

The train swung to the side again and her breath caught in her throat. She found herself pleading inwardly, in an embarrassingly pitiful manner, with god, satan, whoever held the blade just above the string from which her life dangled, found herself bargaining in a last-ditch attempt of faith. If she got out alive, she would donate all her money to charities all over the world. She would live in Africa and help them. She would- would become a nun, and serve him for the rest of her life. She- she would devote the rest of her life to discovering the cure for…cancer and…uh…AIDs.

She shuddered and slumped as something came in contact with her head and a searing pain erupted. Argh. Her head spinned and she groaned unconsciously.

Stop thinking about it stop thinking about it…

Anyway. She drew in a deep breath. Where was she?

Right. Cure for AIDs.

Damn it, all those were lies, she knew full well they would never come true, all her utopian fantasies would never be fulfilled in a million years, she knew all too well.

Hmm. What would she honestly do?

She would kiss him, she concluded resolutely.

(This really was the train ride of revelation.)

She would kiss him and he would kiss her back and they would have the most amazing sex and they would go out together everyday and he would give her gifts and she would remember his birthday and they would go for romantic minibreaks and they would visit each other at work and she would show him off to her friends and they would confess their love for each other and he would propose with a beautiful diamond ring that was a family heirloom and they would get married at a lovely ceremony and they would go for a honeymoon in Romania and they would have two beautiful intelligent kids named Andrea and Alex and they would top their—

The train drove over a bump and they slid down the carriage. She shrieked as they slammed against the door. He was saying something but she couldn't hear, all she heard was the cracks and slams and bangs as the train continued on.

It wasn't fair! It just wasn't fair! How on earth could they die now after they had gone through so much, he had gotten on the bus, she had maintained them over 50mph, they had tweaked the camera, had gotten the Sam off safe, hell, had even survived detonation, 

had gotten everyone off, had fooled the man, had survived being strapped with dynamite, and so much more?! The logic and coherence of the world would be seriously screwed if they died now, at the mercy of a train. A damn train.

She was only 30! She haven't even done all she wanted to do yet! She wasn't married, she hadn't been promoted to senior partner, she had no dog, she couldn't knot a tie, she couldn't cook risotto, she couldn't do so many things! She was supposed to have time to slowly discover, slowly learn and develop, not forced to have her venture broken off at 30!

And he was surely around that age too, surely had a lot of regrets as well. (hopefully he wasn't married too though). He would only be a distant memory in the lives of all the people in the train if he died here; his coffin would be draped with the flag, but what was the point? And, by far the most distressing thing was, she wouldn't get to kiss him.

Humpphh.

The train suddenly thrust forward with a lurch of speed and she tightened her arms around him, shaking. She heard someone sobbing in the distance; it didn't sound like her at all, though she knew full well it was. She could feel his hot breath in her ear as he whispered soothingly, 'it's going to be alright, Annie, it's okay. We're not gonna die.' He rubbed her back gently, and she wondered how he could care so much about her, when he himself was going to meet his demise. He sounded uncertain himself, though it was definitely a really sweet attempt on his part, like even he himself needed convincing.

Then the train burst out, and she could see sunlight filtering through whatever was left of the shattered windows. He gripped her tightly, as they braced themselves for the impact.

The carriage crashed onto the ground and slid for a short distance before it slowed to a halt. She was breathing heavily, but upon seeing him smile at her again, felt a surge of relief, yes, yes, YES! They were alive!

And she decided to act on her promise, and he seemed pretty eager as well…

xxxxxx

She shifted against him, snuggling closer to him. He wrapped an arm around her bare waist possessively and pulled her to him. She raised her head and looked up into his eyes, dark, mysterious pools in the dim light of his bedroom. He smiled again and kissed her. Relishing the feel of his lips against hers, Annie wrapped an arm around his waist, and ran the other hand through his short, dark hair, tangling her legs among his. It became increasingly passionate as he caressed her, and ran his hands down her body, and she moaned, pressing herself tight against him…

'Annie?' he whispered softly.

'Hmm?' she turned in his embrace to face him. He shifted so their foreheads were leaning against each others as they smiled.

'what were you thinking, back there in the train?'

'Uhm…' Annie was taken aback, and really didn't know how to answer that.

'Especially before we…slid down the carriage. You had a very odd look on your face.' He added.

'I'm not telling you.' She said mock-petulantly.

'oh really?' he grinned at the challenge.

'Yup. You'll laugh.'

'I won't!'

'See, you're already laughing. And I haven't even told you yet.'

'wha—you haven't told me yet, so there's nothing wrong if I laugh!'



'I'm not telling you.'

'We'll see about that,' his voice a low rumble in his chest as he ran his hands down her body, tantalizingly quickly. She let out a murmur of protest as he stopped.

'I'm still not telling you.' The grin on her face was mischievous and smug, and there was really nothing other than that that would drive Jack crazy. He attacked her with tickles and she squealed and laughed, squirming in his grip. He pinned her wrists down above her head and grinned. Lowering his head close to her lips, he murmured mock-threateningly 'are you telling me now?'

In reply, she reached out and kissed him.

xxxxxx

She wouldn't actually mind a relationship based on sex with him, but somehow she had a sneaking suspicion that it would be so much more than that.


REVIEWS! please (: