Chapter 2
I forgot to mention in the first chapter that this was written for MidnightAuroraWolf who said 'Please, please' and I must thank Brazilian Guy for reading it first and giving me his gentlemanly views which I treasure, respect and sometimes ignore.
Arya watched the lights of the rig swing away below her. From up here at night, lit up against the dark sea and sky, she had always thought it looked like a Christmas tree. She rested her head against the body of the 'copter, letting the thud of the rotors sooth her. At least she would live to see another Christmas.
In moments, the lights were gone and in the darkness her mind replayed the image of her hand on the gun, putting a bullet in the back of Rat Boy's head as Greyjoy's brains splattering up the wall behind him. Christ, why had she given that boy a name? The other two she'd put a bullet in didn't seem to be bothering her at all; just Rat Boy with his stupid mismatched sandals. She knew if she had warned Greyjoy, he would have given the game away. Even if he'd just stopped whining, the pirates would have known something was up. But why the fuck did he have to stand up, when everyone else dived for the floor?
She buried her face in her hands, only to have something hard bump against her knee. She looked down to see two bigger, black clad knees either side of her orange ones. They bumped hers again. She followed the black trousers up to the loaded belt, body armour, to find Mr Blue Eyes grinning at her. Dear God. Relief. He'd made it too. She hoped she managed to give him a weak smile back. Although the bits of his face that weren't covered by helmet and chin strap were smeared in oily camouflage paint, at least he wasn't just eyes and teeth anymore. He was very real, very alive and very big.
"How you doin'?" he yelled above the noise of the rotors. Everyone else in the cabin turned to look. He was still grinning and she wondered if he was deliberately trying to sound like Joey from friends. Bloody hell, this was weird. Was he really trying to chat her up in a helicopter escaping from hell? He winked. Yeah, he was.
She slowly blew out long breath and mentally recited her list of rules on men…
No soldiers
No soldiers
No soldiers
He bit the finger tip of one glove with those white teeth, pulling it off before holding out his hand. It took her a few seconds to realise he wanted his gun back.
She looked around the cabin. Mercifully, everyone else seemed to have turned away from them and back to their own thoughts. She unzipped her boiler suit and tugged his gun out of her bra. She knew without looked at him, where those blue eyes would be. So damn predictable. She intended to drop the gun into his open palm, avoiding touching him, but he had other ideas. His fingers reached for her wrist and there it was again; that jolt of electricity. She jerked her hand away as if he'd burned her.
Taking back the SIG, he checked the empty clip and mouthed "How many you get?"
She held up three fingers, remembering Rat Boy plunge forward as her bullet found the back of his head.
She had got three, counted ten orange suits into the waiting helicopters and she'd seen Greyjoy die, but otherwise, she had no idea what had gone down. Chaos didn't begin to describe it; automatic weapons fire coming from every direction, smoke, men screaming. After she had emptied her gun's clip, it had only been about survival. She'd been down and stayed down until the standard issue assault boots had appeared in front of her eyes and she'd been hauled up and out of there.
Mr Blue Eyes gave her a grin and a thumbs up. She rested her head against the solid body of the helicopter again and looked away, out the window into the black night.
Arya had no idea how long they had been in the air and she must have, somehow, dozed off as a city's lights were now spread out below them. The change in the drone from the rotors confirmed they were slowing down for landing.
Mr Blue Eyes was looking out of the window too. She bumped his knee, still wedged between her orange ones and the fuselage. He turned towards her. No grin now, just calm, tired eyes.
"Where are we going?" she mouthed.
He shifted the assault rifle on his lap and leant forwards. He indicated for her to do the same. He smelled of metal, gunfire, fresh sweat and, rather incongruously, some citrusy aftershave. That made her smile. He put on aftershave before he went off to fight the bad guys. God only knew what she smelled like.
"The helipad at the Sheraton hotel. We're dropping you there." His hot breath against her ear sent a shiver down her spine.
"Not the Embassy?"
He shook his head, his helmet gently bumping against the side of her face. "Politics. Don't think we're taking the credit for this one."
Oh, God, what had Jon had to do to pull this off? And how could she every thank him? And shouldn't she should thank Mr Blue Eyes too, as she'd likely never see him again.
She reached up and pressed one hand against his opposite cheek, holding his face against hers. She breathed "Thank you" into his ear and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. She felt him turn and angle his head to hers, no doubt hoping for more, but she shoved his helmet firmly away. She could tell he was laughing, although all she could see were his eyes.
"Perv," she mouthed at him once they were both leaning back again. That only made him laugh more. She couldn't help herself laughing too.
The 'copter banked and the rotors slowed further. She was being brought back to reality, literally with a thump.
The cabin door was hauled open by more soldiers in helmets and body armour before the rotors stopped spinning. The noise was deafening, the wind hot and fierce in her face. Mr Blue Eyes was out and down first, offering his hand up to her. Legs not working properly, she almost fell out into his arms. He held her up as she cursed her weakness, but her legs felt like they belonged to someone else.
Then there was a cascade of others behind her, jumping or being helped out by the waiting soldiers and ushered along into the bright lights of the hotel. She tried to move in that direction with the rest of them, but he had his hand on her arm and held her back. He pulled her out of the light and into the relative darkness towards the tail. All she could see once again were blue eyes and white teeth.
Talking was impossible, but he was trying, yelling something indistinguishable in her ear.
"What?"
He tried again. She couldn't hear a word and shrugged, holding up her hands, trying to communicate her difficulty. To her shock, he suddenly had his hand on the back of her neck and his lips crushed against hers. She didn't even have time to respond before he was pushing her back out into the circle of light by a firm shove on her arse.
She staggered forward, towards the last of the group who had exited the 'copter. Her shoulder was caught by one of the soldiers, intent on guiding her towards the lights of the hotel. Not yet. She twisted out his of grasp and looked back, in time to see Mr Blue Eyes disappear into the cabin, all black arse and boots, before the door was slammed shut.
The rotors were spinning faster again and the hand grabbing her shoulder was more insistent. The lights were out in the helicopter's cabin, but she thought she saw a salute behind the window as the landing skids began to lift off the ground.
Then a hand was on her other shoulder too and she was being dragged back, away from the slowly rising 'copter.
By the time she was behind the glass of the hotel's doors, the 'copter's lights were rapidly disappearing up towards the stars.
"Here Miss." One of the soldiers handed her a folded square of white cotton. She looked at it blankly. What did she need that for? She hadn't been crying and she didn't intend to.
"Err…you should wipe your face Miss."
She looked at her reflection in the glass door. The lower half of her face was smeared with black camouflage.
Arya couldn't keep the smile off her lips as she wiped them clean.
See you again tomorrow, when it's gonna get hot in here…
