.
When Elle picks up Emily up from the plane, she notices her rigid back, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her coat.
Elle is taking the go bag from her when Emily leans in, speaking only barely loud enough for Elle to decipher.
"I want to," Emily tells her tightly.
Elle meets Emily's eyes as she hefts the bag onto her shoulder, leaning away from Emily.
"Okay," is all she says in response.
The drive is silent except for the tapping of Emily's foot, and Elle holds her tongue from both annoyance and worry. Emily is in such a daze that they've nearly finished the drive when she looks out the window in confusion.
"This isn't the way to our apartment," Emily says, breaking the silence.
"Nope," Elle replies.
"So are you going to tell me where we're going?" Emily asks, but Elle shows no signs of response, her eyes focused on the road.
Elle parks the car in front of the nondescript brown building, the rusty "Sharpshooter Shooting Range" sign finally answering Emily's question.
Emily gives Elle a questioning look before unbuttoning her seatbelt and opening her door. Both women unholster their weapons and take out their IDs as they near the door. After their credentials and clips have been checked they make their way through the first set of double glass doors. The rituals of earplugs and earmuffs are followed by claiming a booth and clipping up a new target.
Emily and Elle stand side by side, safely clicked off, aimed dead center. Emily shoots first, firing round after round as fast as she can until her clip is empty. Elle fires a moment after, in easy, methodical patterns of three. Emily takes a deep breath after the last round, her breathing shallow as she reloads.
Again, Emily keeps the rapid-fire pace while Elle shoots slow and steady beside her. Emily empties four clips before she allows more than one breath between clips. Into her fifth clip she finds her rhythm, finally allowing her training to kick in. As she finishes her eight clip she finally has found the peaceful calm of the focus and the repetitive movement and sound. By her tenth clip, she finds her arm heavy, her focus draining. After the last round she reloads, clips the safety on, and holsters her Glock.
Emily walks out of the shooting range, barely noticing that Elle follows a short distance behind. Emily walks quickly to the side of the building, dropping to lean over her knees as she sucks in deep breaths. Elle waits in Emily's eye range. At last Emily pulls herself up, looking slightly embarrassed. Elle takes her into her arms, Emily's breathing coming back to normal as she leans against Elle.
"Any better?" Elle asks softly.
Emily nods against her.
