Darien felt the
familiar pain in the back of his neck, and he knew there was nothing he could
do about it. There he was…quickly approaching quicksilver madness, and of
course there was the small detail that he was also locked in the trunk of a
car.
'Why do things like
this always happen to me?' he thought. 'And where the hell is Hobbes?!'
The day had started
out normal. He and Hobbes had spent the morning tailing some suspected arms
dealers around town waiting for them to make a move. Darien even had to forego
his counteragent shot 'cause Hobbes was afraid they might lose them.
Finally, the dealers
had stopped at an abandoned warehouse. "Why does it always have to be an
abandoned warehouse?" Darien groaned as he quicksilvered himself and Bobby so
they could follow the bad guys inside and see what was going on. Darien knew he
was cutting it close by quicksilvering both he and Bobby, but he just wanted
this particular case to be over.
'I'll just
quicksilver, catch the bad guys, get my shot, then finally go home and get some
sleep,' he thought. It had been a long day.
Darien and Hobbes
had invisibly crept-up on the dealers while they were greeting their
prospective customers.
An exchange of money
took place, and that's when Hobbes moved away from Darien and cut off the flow
of quicksilver.
Hobbes yelled,
"Freeze, I'm afraid you're all under arrest," while the quicksilver fell off
his body.
Darien allowed the
quicksilver to stop flowing over him and was about to step forward and lend
Hobbes a hand when he felt a sharp blow to the back of his head. He fell to the
ground and managed to turn himself around. He was able to mumble an "Aw, crap"
right before a fist slammed into his face knocking him unconscious.
Darien awoke to
pain, excruciating pain coming from his face, but more importantly coming from
the back of his neck.
He brought his arm
up to his face to take a look at his wrist, but it was too dark to see.
"Where the hell am
I?" he grumbled. He started to feel around, trying to figure out where he was.
It felt like he was trapped in a box, but then he noticed he was lying on some
sort of carpet, and the smell was nasty. It smelled like gas and maybe oil. "A
trunk!" he said, "I'm in a trunk. Oh, this brings back memories." Images of him
and his buddies playing pranks on each other during high school came floating
into his mind.
And then all of a
sudden those images were gone, and they were replaced with a sudden surge of
anger… anger towards Hobbes. "This is all his fault. If he had just stopped by
the keep so I could have gotten my shot…" Darien suddenly stopped yelling.
He knew that if he
had a mirror (and some light) then he could look at his face, and he would see
two bright red eyes shining back.
He tried to calm
down, but it was no use. His mind kept wandering, and he thought about all the
nice things he would do to Hobbes, the Official, Eberts…. and Claire. "Hmmm,
Claire. Now, there's a thought." Darien whispered to himself. He remembered
perfectly well what had happened between them the last time they met. He
remembered the touching, the kissing. It had felt great to finally find someone
who wasn't afraid of him. No, Claire hadn't feared him, in fact, she had
welcomed him.
"I wonder if she
would be that happy to see me again?" Darien mused while a smile positioned
itself on his face.
He remembered the
feel of her lips on his. "That's it, I'm getting outta here," he said to
himself. He started to kick with all his strength at the hood of the trunk.
Finally, the trunk lock gave way, and the trunk popped open.
Darien casually got
out of the trunk and dusted himself off.
"Don't worry,
Claire, I'm coming. Your sugar daddy's coming to get ya." And with that, he was
off, with only one thing on his mind… Claire.
TBC
*Please let me know
if this has some merit, or if it totally sucks 'cause this is my first fic. If
you guys remotely liked it let me know and I'll continue. Thanks.
