Title: Never Again
Disclaimer: I do not own Human Target. Dammit.
Authors Note: I have only just re-started my foray into the world of writing Fan Fiction. Constructive criticism would be much appreciated. Blind and absolute worship of my work much more so. And since it appears that the ship that I will be shipping in Human Target to the highest degree of ship that I can possible manage is rather unpopular, I can only say that chemistry is chemistry and that I am completely happy for you to leave flames detailing your dislike of my featured couple. I will understand. I hear that being in denial is a total bitch. That said, please enjoy...
Prologue
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As she desperately fought for consciousness, fighting back waves of nausea and the prickling of tears behind her eyes that threatened to erupt into equally desperate sobs, Ames painfully kept the semi-automatic trained to the furthest seat of the darkened limousine. Ignoring the persistent hum of the traffic outside and the slivers of neon lights that briefly managed chase away the gloom in the cars' interior, she grimaced as shudders began to wrack her already overwrought body. God it hurt. But that was just fricking irony at its best. Trapped in a world of poverty, fear, loneliness and the joke that was the American foster system- she had first learnt to steal for such little glimpses into the life of luxury. Gleaming trinkets in a dirty world she had been born to exploit.
"No safe I can't crack. No wallet I can't lift."
Now Ames was slumping in the back of the most luxurious model of transport ever made, bought or stolen, while she bled out in Versace. A cruel testament from the universe and where it deemed her place should be. As her teeth began to chatter and the hand she had pressed vainly to her abdomen slipped, she idly began to speculate on how one would even begin to remove blood stains from silk... But as beads of sweat and exhaustion intermingled with droplets of blood, she felt her body begin its inevitable sink downward. A wave of gray enveloped her vision, the arm holding her last defence faltered, and she felt rather then saw the passengers move to strike. Their confidence in her flagging condition obviously overrode their fears at her previously venomous hiss for them to sit down and shut the fuck up.
The scent of copper and expensive leather filled her nostrils and the supple seat cushions rose disturbingly quickly to meet her face. Drawing on her last reserves of pure adrenalin, Ames swallowed past the literally gut-wrenching pain and was rewarded with the satisfying, if not almost effectively posthumous, sound of gunshots. She chuckled darkly at the outraged squeals of tyres, the sick thump of her bullets erupting into flesh and the vaguely rewarding sound of shattering glass. She braced herself as momentum forced her body toppling onto the carpeted flooring. Even as she felt the spray of what she could only vindictively hope was arterial blood splatter, excruciating pain burst in a brilliant white behind her eyelids and she frantically bit her bottom lip to muffle screams of agony. Sheer grit was now a futile shield against oblivion. Doors were flung open and the cacophony of harried conversation and the outside world blasted into her reality, before a single bitter thought swirled through Ames as she slowly faded away to black.
...Junior Varsity my ass...
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R & R. Please and Thank You.
"I don't care what you think, as long as it's about me" F.O.B