I linked the opening song to my profile page! Since I'm rotating the story around it, I would suggest listening to it! Its definitely my favorite song. ^w^

Thunderous applause still rung in her ears. Adrenaline pumping through her veins as she hurried off stage from her final bow. The view of the standing ovation during her time on stage filled her with a sense of accomplishment. Of pride.

But then, the adrenaline began to fade, the applause ceased, and she slowly trudged her worn and tired body backstage in search of her dressing room. Excited voices filled the air, and though the conversations of the other dancers varied, one strain of words kept catching her ears.

"…coming faster than you could imagine!"

"…starting our futures, I mean…."

"Soon we'll be in college!"

Her shoulders slumped as the seventeen-year-old softly shut her dressing room door behind her. College. That dreaded word. She had no hope of ever paying that through. Several dance academies had approached the rising star, offering her large sums in scholarships to dance for them, but what hope did she have of ever paying for the rest of the costs? All of her inheritance was about spent up between her passing a job for extra dance classes and her recently departed sister's expensive drug addiction.

She had no chance.

Carefully lowering herself into the chair to not damage the stiff skirt of her tu-tu, she began to slowly and tiredly unlace her pointe shoes, letting the old things fall to the ground with a dull thump. The usual ache came to her feet, and she set into her normal ritual of stretching and kneading her feet to keep the ache from setting in.

That's when a knock came to the door, and without looking up, she barked out an irritated "Come in."

"Is this a bad time?" came a honey laced yet masculine voice from in front of her as the door slowly creaked open.

Sighing, she let her foot fall to the floor as she glanced up in response. "No, but… Oh."

That's when she fully appraised the smirking man before her. Her head tilted slightly as she scrutinized him, the little wisps of her ebony hair that had somehow escaped her tight bun grazing her cheek. No older than his late twenties, he stood a good six feet or so tall, a full and muscular form highly evident under his expensive looking tux as he currently set about taking off his bow tie and letting the length of fabric hang loose about his neck.

Examining his face, she found herself staring at a perfectly chiseled jaw, slight scruff, and short, military cropped auburn hair on top. Set into his face, though, were a pair of unusually bright sapphire eyes, and she soon found herself lost in them as well as his alluring demeanor.

Grinning, the man offered his hand to her. "Quite a performance tonight."

"Oh!" she exclaimed, embarrassment evident in her voice and demeanor as her ivory skin of her cheeks and neck blushed warm crimson shades. "Umm… Thanks! I mean, thank you… I, well, I messed up a few parts here and there—"

A hearty laugh escaped him as he met her gaze. "Only a true master would be willing to admit mistakes where there are none." Leaning back casually in the doorframe when he realized she was too flustered to accept his hand, he crossed his arms over his chest while still grinning at the young girl he had captured within his charms. "So, I bet you have all the dance schools fighting tooth in nail."

Her flustered appearance gave way to a slightly slumped form of earlier, before his appearance. "Well, a few offers… but you know, money is always the issue…" Giving him a sad smile, she added, "Maybe in a few years."

Frowning for the first time since his entrance, he stated firmly, "That simply won't do." Pushing off the wall, his long arm reached over and grasped a random chair, raking it across the floor with him as the other arm shut the door. "You shouldn't have to put off your dreams because of money."

Straightening in her chair, hands stiffly placed in her lap over her skirt, she frowned as he casually stopped the chair right before her before plopping down in it, sitting backwards with his legs straddling the seat as his arms crossed over the back. Her voice tight and slightly angered by the subject, she spat out, "Its not exactly like I have a choice." Gaze darting to the side, she added, "I have nothing but an old farmhouse. It would never sell for enough."

Quirking a brow, he asked in a tone suggesting he already knew the answer, "No family?"

Glaring daggers at him, she let the silence fall. Neither spoke, neither moved. They simply sat, her stiff and livid in her chair, he relaxed and curious in his. Finally, he asked, "What if you had a sponsor?"

Her heart stopped, the stiffness in her frame switching from one of anger to one of shock. He couldn't be suggesting… she refused to hope, but there he sat, in his expensive suit, a gold wristwatch on one of his crossed arms, and a mischievous glint in his eyes as his head rested on those crossed arms.

Sitting straighter in the chair, he continued. "Over the years, I've collected quite a bit of money through my various…. Endeavors. Sponsoring a ballerina through dance school, both schooling and boarding, would be pocket change to me." Then his face turned a bit serious, though still warm. "I would just need a favor."

She couldn't think, couldn't breathe. She should have thought it through, thought of the consequences of trusting a complete stranger, but all she could say in response was, "Anything. Anything at all."

Smirking and extending his arm yet again, he announced, "The name's Archer."

Quickly snatching up his hand, she shook it fervently while responding, "Kara."

The Southern Nevada road held its usual silence, no signs of civilization as the asphalt stretched for miles towards the rising, rose colored sunset.

At least, the silence lasted for a while, until a low rumbling sound began to slowly grow until the roar of an engine finally zooms past. The white Ferrari, one with emerald and ruby stripes detailed along the hood and sides, raced along at break neck speed, a speed at which its passenger was not pleased about.

"For the hundredth time… Slow. Your Ass. Down!"

An undignified harrumph came from the dashboard radio as a disembodied voice spoke back. "Primus, don't you know how to have fun?" he asked in an irritated way as the road slowly began to wind through more rocky terrain. "I just got these wheels! Let me give them a proper test run!"

Clutching tightly to the steering wheel, the girl sitting in the Ferrari's driver's seat sneered through partially clenched teeth, "Not if you get us killed!" Another sharp turn had her nearly thrown out of her seat towards the passenger side, and her previous thoughts of being 'safe' inside the vehicle transformer went out the proverbial window.

As she then shakily and quickly fumbled for the seatbelt, Wheeljack couldn't help but laugh. "If you are an example of average humans…" Another sharp turn and another screech from the tires and the girl. "I have high doubts that you are actually hunting us down."

Finally managing to click her seat belt in place, she huffed and flipped the falling strands of hair back from her eyes. "Well, we are." Her hands reached up to gather all the strands while pulling the loosened tie out. "And apparently…" The mess of hair soon laid flat against her head as she began to twist the end of her ebony locks. "We're winning."

An angry growl seemed to emanate from the car, and then Kara became truly aware of where she was. Of what she was doing. And of how easily the situation could turn sour. In her head, she could here him berating her for being so foolish, for risking her safety, for putting her life into the…hands… of not only someone she just met, but of something.

As her hands finally ceased in twisting her hair into the familiar, tight bun at the very back of her skull, she lightly reached forwards, hesitantly edging forward to lay a hand on the dash. In a sincere voice, she whispered, "I'm sorry."

The growling stopped, and silence reigned between the two. At first, she worried she might have said the wrong thing, but as the Ferrari began to slow his speed, he spoke to her in his course voice. "Thank you."

She nodded, and then retracted her hand to lower it to her lap again. The silence returned, but this silence that fell gave a more comfortable tone than the last. That is, until a smirk grew on her face.

"You still have to slow down."

"Oh, COME ON. I slowed down nearly thirty miles per hour!"

"Yet you are still going nearly thirty miles per hour over the speed limit."

An irritated snort, habit of his that she was beginning to notice, followed by another complaint. "That's ridiculous. You humans build these machines and don't know how to handle them?"

Crossing her arms over her chest, she retorted, "Well, not all of us actually are cars, so forgive us for not all being good drivers." Her eyes darted to the speed gauge. "But seriously, your going to get us pulled over. I don't have my license, and I certainly don't have registration on you."

"Registration?"

"Please," she pleaded. "I don't have my contacts' new numbers. If we are arrested…" Turning her gaze to her lap as she slumped in her seat, she finished with a resigned, "We're screwed."

Wheeljack sighed, giving into the girl's demands on lowering his speeds to a more acceptable human level. Settling on a silent nod of acknowledgement, she relaxed into the seat, letting her hands lightly rest on the bottom of steering wheel, eyes watching her fingers as they drummed up and down, her lost in thought. Eventually, she spoke up.

"I'm insane."

"Nah," Wheeljack drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm sure there are plenty of humans who would want to willingly travel with an alien they just met."

Eyes narrowed towards the radio, she snapped back, "That's not what is freaking me out." Tilting her gaze out the window, a lost look coming to her eyes. "I'm more worried about my… contacts."

A low hum came from the radio, as if he were dissecting how to approach the situation. After a pause, he responded, "This… isn't going to turn sour, is it?"

Her knees drew up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them as her feet flexed on the edge of the driver's seat. "No… I highly doubt it." With a quick dart of her hand, she brushed a few strands of hair behind ear. "They… care for me. But, the means of how I bonded with this group…"

Noticing her hesitance, Wheeljack decided to end the conversation. "Story for another day?"

With a light smile, she nods her head lightly. "Another day."

Waking was a nightmare.

Groaning, her hand grasped at the sheets enveloping her, a throbbing pain in her head as a dull tingle shot through her limbs. Rolling slowly from her back, the unfamiliar feel of the sheets wrapped about her as she flopped onto her stomach, eliciting another pained groan.

But then her mind shot back to the unfamiliar feel of the sheets.

The unfamiliar feel of the bed.

And despite the pain, shot straight up, her sleep-deprived brain struggling to process what was happening. But she couldn't remember what had happened. How she had gotten here. A lightheaded dizziness consumed her, and she felt as if she were going to hurl.

Her gaze darted about the windowless room, taking in the sparse, generic décor. Pale blue walls were accented with white shelves and matching adornments in random places. Looking down, her hand ran along the soft fabric tangled between her legs, a curious tilt to her head as she examined the swirling blue designs along the comforter twisted amongst the matching shade of blue sheets.

But, unfortunately, the tilt of her neck was the wrong move.

Pain shot up her throat, and a startled cry escaped her lips. A hand shot up to grasp at the pint were the pain emanated from, but rather than skin, she found a thick piece of heavy gauze, one that her dizzy mind had not registered but was now painfully aware of.

That's when memories of that night came back, and with fear shooting through her, she grasped the edge of the bed, yanking her legs as best she could from the snare her tangled sheets had created. Feet free, she quickly swung them over the edge of the bed, dropping them down on the hard, light colored wood floor.

Standing was another beast, her head and limbs screaming in protest. But she had to move. She had to get out of… whatever this place was. No good could come from this.

Shakily, she made her way to the door, working her way along the wall across the thankfully small room, being careful not to make too much noise when heading to the exit. Upon reaching it, she moved her hand towards the handle, only to stop when she heard muffled voices emanating through the door. Leaning closer, she stained to hear them.

First, a feminine one, with dark and angry twist to her tone. "…insane! You can't…kidnap her!"

"What choice….have?! She would….dead…" Came a familiar male voice, but her dizzy brain would not let her remember who he was.

"…only nineteen!"

"And we will….of her."

Having enough of listening to the pair's snippets of bickering, she moved to twist the handle, only to find she could do no more than jiggle it a bit. That's when the voices suddenly stopped. Taking a deep breath, she decided to call out and speak with them. "Hel…Hello?" Her voice came out weak and scratchy, so she struggled to project more loudly. "Hello? Can…can you let me out? Please?"

No response.

"Please? Let me out!"

Silence.

"Let me out! Let. Me. OUT. You can't keep me here!"

A pause, and then the male spoke up, his tone sad but firm. "I'm sorry, Kara. But we can." Then, her heart sunk as he finished by saying, "And we will."

Then, all that could be heard was Kara's screaming and crying and fists beating upon the strong oak door as she cursed Archer and the day she made that deal with him those few years ago. She screamed till her throat was raw, her tears were spent up, and she sat collapsed against the door, her tear stained face staring at nothing as her lips still silently moved in unanswered pleas to the man who would never let her go.

I should post again next Friday! Let me know what you think so far!