Okay so I've written about 15 stories to put up in this lovely area of FF. Sadly I haven't posted any...Til' now...Please be nice.
Please read and review.
"Walter go up the bank and get out of the woods!" Peter yelled to his father in exasperation as he frantically looked around him making sure that whatever had attacked them was gone. "Go!" He practically screamed as he saw that Walter was still standing there looking at him.
Walter blinked owlishly before looking from Peter to the bank. He looked hesitant, but left as he saw the look of fury, fear, and desperation in his son's eyes. Scurrying up the slope, he looked down behind him and saw Peter looking around him again; waving the gun around in a fashion more likely to have him hit anyone who approached over the head than to shoot at them. He watched as Peter, seemingly satisfied that no one or anything was going to approach them again, put the gun down on the SUV's hood and opened the driver's side carefully as not to jostle the still unconscious FBI agent who was leaning over the steering wheel.
"Olivia!" He heard his son call to the women. "Come on wake up." He said, shaking her slightly as to pull her from sleep.
He saw as Peter reached across Olivia's waist to undo the seat belt which was securely fashioned, and pull on her shoulders to slowly get her back into a straight sitting position before lifting her out of the vehicle, grabbing the gun and gingerly making his way up the slope with the still body wrapped in his arms. Peter then knelt on the hard pavement and laid Olivia down on her back.
"Come on Liv." He said as he felt the inside of her wrist and let out a sigh as he felt the pulsation of a steady, strong, beat under his fingertips letting him know that she was alive. He shook her again before lightly tapping her cheeks. "Come Olivia, get up."
"Son give her a moment or two." Walter said soothingly as he walked over to them, knowing that his son was thinking of the last time that Olivia had been in a car crash. "She isn't hurt like before." He said, as he thought of what it had been like to hear the doctor's tell him and Peter that Olivia had died only to have her come back to life.
Peter looked at him, and almost outright laughed at the fact of their role reversals. Here his father, the clinically insane doctor, was standing over him the sane one as Peter was slipping into a state of madness from the fear of losing the women before him again. If it had been any other time he would have laughed, but, here and now, all he could think of was getting those green eyes open. For her to see him and tell him that she was fine.
"Olivia." He called again and nearly cried as her eyes shot open and she looked at him.
"Hey." She said weakly as she put a hand on her temple and rubbed it. "Ouch."
"Lay back." Peter urged as he pushed her back to a lying position. "How do you feel?"
"My head and neck hurt." She said as she continued to rub her temples and Peter slid a warm, calming hand under her neck, letting his body heat radiating from his hand be used as a type of make-shift heating pad.
"That feels good." She said on a sigh as he rubbed her neck for a few minutes before she sat up and looked at them. "Are you guys okay?"
"Oh I'm fine; though I'm exceptionally thirsty…Cream soda sounds lovely." Walter said as he dazed off for a second before snapping his eyes back to hers. "Though Peter got shot at."
"What!" She exclaimed, snapping her head around to look at him, maybe too fast as a pain shot through her neck and she winced.
"I'm fine." Peter said as he put his hand back on her neck and started to massage it. "I think I hit it though."
"It, so who ever ran us off the road is one of them?" Olivia said, practically purring as the neck massage did wonders for the pain.
"Yes, do you think you can stand?" Peter asked as he stood up and offered her his hand.
She looked down at the crashed SUV before holding her hand out and letting him wrap it in his larger one as he pulled her to her feet as if she weighed no more than a frail child. She looked in his eyes and saw the concern there, and smiled to let him know that she was indeed okay, just sore. Reluctantly, she let go of his hand and pulled her slightly dinged cell phone from her pocket and hit speed dial 1 and waited for the brisk "Broyles" to sound on the other end. When it did, she had to pull the phone away an inch or two as the volume was loud and her head was pounding. She told him what had happened and had only hung up when he had promised to send someone out to their location as soon as he could.
Slipping the phone back into her pocket and knowing that it would only take a matter of minutes before someone showed up, she tried to flatten her disheveled clothes and straighten her hair as to look presentable rather than the person who had had to be pulled from a crashed vehicle. When satisfied with her appearance she looked up to see both Bishop men looking at her in an odd manor, as if they thought her insane for trying to look presentable. But hell, she was a women working in a 'men's' field of work where she constantly had to prove herself. And if that meant trying to look as if she hadn't been fazed or effected by the accident then so be it.
"What?"
"Nothing." They both responded quickly as they turned to the sound of cars approaching.
