Secure compound, [REDACTED] Eastern Europe…
"Okay, okay, lemme get this straight. You let the boss go on by herself. You saw steel bars that looked like someone cut with a laser, when the mission was to retrieve fucking Witches, and just one word by Hex makes you stay put with your thumb up your ass" Brian Hanover, the thirty three year old African American recounted with mounting frustration. Formerly of the US Navy, the ex-SEAL stared down the two men, who glowered right back at him.
"You tell the boss she can't do what she wants" Steve snapped, crossed his arms.
"If you were with us, you'd do the same thing" Connely agreed, testily sweeping his vision around the gathered room. Present were a dozen men, most of the CIA covert cell's combat trained personnel. All American, all ex military.
Two thirds of them had left several days earlier, for a risky unsanctioned mission to add a pair of creatures colloquially known as Witches to their operation. Half an hour ago, a black portal had opened up in the middle of the main conference room, and eight ex-soldiers in thick winter gear had tumbled out. Only one of their number was missing.
"I'm calling this in" Hanover decided. When he glanced around, there should have been at least reluctant agreement. Instead he saw a number of angry stares. "What?"
"The hell are we gunna say?" snapped a particular accented voice Hanover found grating, though not its owner; Robert "Bobby" Graves, a twenty nine year old ex-marine with a fair complexion to go with his deceptive thickness. "I main, fuck, what do we know huh? The boss just up'n vanished or sum shit?" the Kentucky native threw his arms up in frustration. Several of the men were nodding in agreement.
But Hanover was not going to be dissuaded. "We'll come up with something. Listen, I owe Hex just as much as all you okay? But we can't stay and twiddle our thumbs until she gets back-"
*boom*
Immediately conversation ceased. Each man paused to look around, searching for the source of the rumble. Connely lucked out, jabbing a finger at the cause. "Guys!"
There was a black spot hanging in the air, a glossy object the size of a marble. Both Steve and Connely backed away, grabbing for their holsters. Hanover already had his sidearm drawn; he was jokingly called "Quick Draw" by his squadmates, back when there were fifteen men instead of six. All the same, he backed away to give the object plenty of clearance.
The black dot swelled, the nascent portal quickly growing to the size of a car. It rose from the ground a half meter, then stilled. In the time it took to do that, there were eight handguns and four rifles trained on the fissure in reality. The number of pistols dropped as larger weapons were handed out, ranging from M4s to UMPs, with an M104 taking center stage. Each one had safeties off and fingers curled around the triggers.
If not for the extensive experience each men had, the first being to fall out from the bottom would have been shredded by a hail of gunfire. It stumbled into a crouch, one hand planting on the ground as it stifled a gasp. Surprise gave way to confusion, especially as a second figure gracefully landed behind her.
Groaning, the woman staggered back to her feet. While she grimaced in pain, the portal dissolved into black smoke which quickly faded into oblivion. Her rising body shielded the second arrival from view.
"Hex?" Steve was the first to recover, gawking in shock.
The special forces captain turned CIA black ops leader clapped her thickly clad clothes over, making a small cloud of dusty ash leave each time. Standing up straight, she glanced over the assembled men, most of which she recruited herself. "Gentlemen."
Connely was the first to raise a brow at the sheer incongruity of what was in front of him, complete with a succinct "The fuck?"
"Everyone here?" she asked blandly, looking them over while they lowered their weapons.
"Teller and Jesse are in the barracks. Hex, the hell is going on?" Hanover answered, gulping.
Hex smiled wryly. "Short version, I made a deal with the devil."
"What" Bobby half squawked.
"Longer version, I made an agreement with a Witch on the level of White Rock Shooter. In exchange for assisting in some high level political crap, she'll hand Hekmatyr to us on a silver platter. Literally if I wanted to. If I play my cards right, I can weasel another favor or two out of her" she went on, roaming her ordinarily normal eyes over the men. None saw any overt change in the orbs themselves, but the sheen was different. A spark of something unidentifiable.
But it was her smile, more than anything else, that put fear in the hearts of every man in the room.
"You…what" Connely sputtered, glancing to the others for any cue. A fruitless effort as it turned out.
"Brian, you're gonna love this and hate it at the same time" she continued with the same grin.
The ex-SEAL blinked, pointing a free hand at his torso. "Me?"
"Our mission is Black Rock Shooter" was her reply.
Brian Hanover, formerly a lieutenant in the US Navy Sea Air and Land team Squad Nine, nicknamed 'Night Nine', did nothing but level a stare at the woman who gave him a second chance. "Our mission" he repeated numbly.
Hex nodded.
"What we have to do is unleash her Insane form in a contained area, long enough for White Rock Shooter to put the bitch down once and for all" she explained, her voice reasonably subdued. The shine in her eyes on the other hand was not.
"But-" Hanover clenched his eyes shut and sucked in a pained breath, fighting the memories of the worst night of his life. The night which claimed the lives of many of his friends and shattered a distinguished unit, with nothing to show for their sacrifice.
The smile Hex sported grew, her eyes showing no trace of mirth. "That's right. We're going to kill her."
Steve edged to the side of the bewildered group, needing to see what was behind her. One look had him snap his weapon up, finger on the trigger despite his leader's proximity.
"Boss." The one word not only grabbed her attention, but the growingly uneasy mens as well. Hex's smirk didn't falter when she took one wide step aside, leaving the figure behind her in plain view.
It, appearing as a teenage girl, needed precisely one and a half seconds to find herself staring down a dozen weapons, each one capable of ending her. Instead of fear, Hex showed only malicious glee at raising a single hand at the Witch.
"Gentlemen, meet our faith payment" she introduced.
Clad in a sleeveless tank top with hot pants, the Witch had armor on both her legs from the knees downward and her arms, from the elbows to the claw tipped hands. The odd blue crown hanging lopsidedly on her head was rendered almost superfluous in comparison, almost as much as the uneven white belt. But it wasn't her outfit or her spiky twin pigtails of uneven length which caused the men to fear; it was her face which drew their attention.
"Her name is Black Rock Beast."
BRB Theme: Four Words to Choke on - Bullet For My Valentine
Out of all of them, Hanover was the closest to losing control. The others had glanced to each other in bafflement; he alone had unbridled fury.
"Its okay Brian" Hex soothed, holding up a hand to him. Her restrained bloodlust faded as she stepped closer to him, placing a palm on his trembling arm. The man was hardly listening, his own expression fracturing.
"T-hats…" he could barely speak, fear and rage clouding him.
"Its not her" she said softly, just loud enough to let the words carry to the others. "I freaked out too, its just a coincidence."
"But-" he tried to protest. In response Hex gripped tighter.
"Its not her. That things just a tool, once this is over she'll go away" she soothed. Glancing to the side, Hex landed her eyes on Connely and Bobby. "Get everyone here as fast as you can. We have an operation to plan."
A/N: Okay, that's it for this one. I'm going to try something different this chapter, only putting down some thousand odd words then moving on. Just a̙̪ń̪̳̥͔͈̱͉-
W̻̹̤a̳̣͖̭̖͕̘i̶͚̥̼t̴̪̗̥̮,̙̱̕ ̱̜̜͇̩̦͘h̻̯̜̫͎͘o̻̣͙̩͖̭w̩̜̪̰ͅ ̪̯d̷͎̗i̭̣̣̪͞d̡͚̣͉̬ ̱̯͍͉̙̙̖́y͔̼ó̗ų̭̮̟̻͖…̭̤͓ͅͅn̪̼̩̜̜o̜̬̳͍.̝͖͉̖ͅ O̰̠̻͎͖̗h̝͇̀ c̛̰͖͉r̢͎̼̹̲͈͖a̵̺̪̤̪̣a̪̙͡a̫͇͇͓̠̘ͅ-̶͕
Ḡ̷̃̇̈́́l̵͑͗ͤ̃͊̌͐҉͜aͮͭ̋́͐͐̽̍̀ř̵̓̅̾͑̀̚͡b̃͂͢ gͪ̄̈́ͭ̏͟l̈́̉͏a̷ͤ͊r̛̛ͯͭ͗̇b̷ͣ͋͑̑̈́͐́͜ g̨̿l̨̅͊͑̎ā̵̢ͧ̂ͦ̂́ͥ̊̀rͬ̅̾̋̆̚͜b̒̄̌̅͊̓̏͆ͨ̕͟s̉̏ͭ͋̌̏͟a͑͊̋̎͌ͦͭ̃҉́v̨̎̓̈͞ê͋͂̀͡ g̓̒ͥl̈͆͂̆ͦ̑ͭ̂͡a̴ͬ̋҉rͨͭ͑̾ͦ̈ͫ͐͢b̛̄̍́ͩͦ͏̡ m̶̧̍̆̎̅̂ͥͧͤ́ë̇ͦ̏̑̀̆́͢͜g̡̐̀̽͆ͮ̽̑͌̀k̨̔̀͞a͗̎́̓̽̚͞r̶͐̽͒̎̈b̴̑̄̓͗e̴͑̈́́ͪ̏̌̇͑͟͡
R/N; t̡̕h̵̶̸e̴̢r͝e̸͘ we go. two years since i last dropped in, and he has yet to update his security. lost in transition's ending, remember? you can say that im choosing for him, hehehe.
while im here though, i hereby change my theme to flobots handlebars. i dont like dubstep, not my cup of tea.
anyway, allow me to post what the author was too lazy to do. behold, the long awaited date between the pair you humans seem to like.
xXx
R/N; the author has never been to france, much less the city the characters are currently in. because of this, assume any and all mistakes you spot here are purely his. the uninspired fool.
Jonah was nervous. No, more than nervous; he was downright terrified. No matter how much he forced himself to stop, it proved impossible to bury the feeling of impending doom. After all he had been through, the paranoia felt entirely justified.
If they were in an American style car, Valmet wouldn't have been able to see him out of the corner of her vision without turning her whole head. As it was, since the rented Renault was reversed a flicker of her lone eye was enough to check on him. The teen was all but fidgeting, consciously stopping himself every few seconds only to start all over again. He knew he was drawing the Finn's concern, but he couldn't help himself.
In the backseat she sat, Black Rock Shooter duly ignoring the humans in front of her in favor of the window. The look of discomfort she sported earlier was muted now, which stemmed from her current attire.
Instead of her unsuitable wardrobe, she had thick pants, sweater, and a fleece lined jacket, complimenting a new set of boots. On her hands were an insulating pair of gloves, and finishing it all off was a beanie over her head, with her long pigtails spilling out to the sides. The only thing the clothes (bought for her by Koko) had in common with her preferred outfit was the color. From the cap to the boots, it was black with white highlights. Rock plainly hated the clothes, but it beat freezing in winters cold grip.
Outside the windows, Marseille was relatively impressive from where they were; with the bay in one direction and the snow covered peak of Mont Sainte Victoire in the other, it was awe inspiring. The artfully designed architecture of the city itself somehow managed to add to the view instead of taking away from it. Jonah was mildly impressed with the resort city when he read up on it. He found himself wishing more for the pictures instead of the snow coated skyline he was seeing instead however.
Valmet had been silent since they left the airport half an hour ago, parting from Koko with a quick peck first before taking off in a prearranged rental. The pale woman outwardly didn't show any care at the excursion, unless an encouraging wink at the teens counted.
With the tension radiating off of Jonah, the Finn felt the need to speak up. "We're almost there."
Jonah nodded quickly, spying Rock looking at her from the rear view mirror. The inhuman girl was unconcerned with what was going on; earlier she was totally unfazed when Valmet 'spontaneously' announced taking her and the boy along for a day in Marseille, away from the job for a while. The teen wondered if she picked up on his intentions, since even with the woman chaperoning them, she had to have at least suspected what he had planned (planned for him rather, since he was clueless about what to do).
A bump drew Jonah back to the present. The rental was easing into a large parking lot, Valmet carefully choosing an empty space to drive into. There were plenty in the recently plowed field of asphalt, and they ended up in one not far from an enormous building. A shopping mall.
"This is it" Valmet announced, putting the car into park and killing the engine. "Make sure you're both bundled up good, okay?" she said, unclipping her seatbelt.
Jonah had his off the second she stopped moving, though he only swung it away after she released her own. Rock needed a couple more seconds to get hers off, still a vast improvement over getting tangled in the belt a week and a half ago. The hoodie was already zipped up, so nothing else stopped her from going for the door handle.
When the cold hit him, Jonah reflexively shivered. Compared to some of the other places he'd been to, the wet chill wasn't anything to complain about. All the same, he was glad he opted for pants and an extra shirt with his hoodie today. Rock looked unhappy with the world outside the warm car, though she was weathering the damp cold admirably. In any case, the lack of visitors today meant the Renault was parked close to the wide entrance. Valmet led the way in, as he he followed close by the girl.
"Here we are" the woman announced, holding open the door for the two teens to scamper inside. There was a sign with the mall's name above the glass doors, in incomprehensible french.
Immediately inside, Jonah overlooked the food court area, spying several small restaurants and stores. For the moment he glossed over them, focusing more on the thin crowd of people. Upon thinking about it he mentally kicked himself, but recollecting on the recent spat of attacks lately justified his vigilance. Rock ignored the sights, tilting her head back and closing her eyes. Her nostrils were flaring.
Valmet walked in front of the two, briefly digging into the small purse she brought along for the trip. "Alright, here's some extra cash if you need it" she drew out a small wad of euros, which Jonah accepted without a word. He had several hundred on him anyway, but more couldn't hurt. "And we'll meet back here in, oh, an hour?" she asked.
"Sounds good" Jonah agreed, noticing Rock turning away in the corner of his vision. Preparing to get in her way, he was relieved when she didn't wander off.
"Okay. I know you know this already, but usual rules apply" the woman reminded, glancing deliberately at his waist. Jonah shifted his weight, feeling the holster rig underneath his thick hoodie rustle.
"Life, death, or Otherworlders" he recited blandly. She nodded, then smiled.
"Okay, have fun you two" Valmet said brightly, giving a small wave before she turned to walk away. A quick check on a sign showed her destination as a small jewelry store.
Turning to Rock, Jonah caught her rotating her head to him too. There was an expectant look to her blue gaze as she settled on him. He took a quick breath.
"Okay, let's…" the teen frowned in thought. "What do you wanna do?" he asked hesitantly. The girl shrugged indifferently.
The teen turned to a random direction, so she didn't have to see his faltering expression. He had no clue what she wanted or what she liked; food was the obvious answer, but there had to be something else. Jonah was painfully aware he was toeing through a minefield, one mistake could cost him everything. Making everything worse, the source of most of his fretting over the past week was a single question that he wasn't able to answer: what did she want?
With no real idea of what to do, Jonah set off. For a second he kept a slow pace, looking over his shoulder to confirm Rock was trailing after him. The look of expectancy on her features only increased his anxiety.
He seized the first potential option: a costume store. The romantic comedy movies Koko had him watch with her a while ago claimed women liked clothes; Jonah doubted it was the case, but he had such a vast lack of options in front of him. It couldn't hurt to try, and if nothing else he could use her behavior to judge his next move.
The teen needed a couple of seconds to discover the girl wasn't following him inside, that she had stopped out front. Quickly backtracking, he started to ask her what happened when he saw her intent gaze on the glass covered storefront. Curious, he glanced to the thing which she was staring uncomfortably at. He blinked; the dark blue corset, jean pants, and long coat outfit on the display mannequin were strange, yet eerily familiar. Just because he never saw the exact clothes on a person before didn't mean he failed to recognize it for what it was.
Looking away, Jonah cleared his throat to get her attention. "You wanna go in there?" Rock glanced to him neutrally, nodding after a second.
"Let's go" he waved to the glass door, holding it open for her to enter. Resisting the impulse to look at the mannequin again, he strolled inside. Why someone thought a Witch costume was a good idea was a question he would never answer.
Less than ten seconds later Jonah regretted going inside; in the corner was a small gaggle of teenagers his age, snickering as they posed for pictures with another costumed mannequin. Catching a snatch of their conversation, he discovered immediately they weren't French. The language was english; based on the accent, American, possibly Canadian. He knew their type well enough, knowing how much trouble they always brought.
Rock didn't pay them any mind, evidently occupied with the rows of stuff on the shelves. She looked over the rows of masks, outfits, and props of various types with her usual non emotive interest. Jonah felt relieved when she gravitated towards the clothes, so his guess wasn't a dud.
"Hey, there's one" a teen said, followed by footsteps coming closer. Jonah didn't want to turn around, but he knew how these situations worked.
Suppressing a sigh, he faced away from Rock to meet the stranger. The stoic teen was taking in details about the boy in front of him, many of which were already souring his opinion. Designer clothes, a confident smirk, and a swagger; someone with money and time to spare. The teen had little patience for the fool's breed, internally resolving to make this quick. Crossing his arms, Jonah leveled a flat stare at the fellow tourist.
"Yo, uh" the pasty skinned American trailed off blankly, diving into his pocket for a smartphone. Lifting it up to him, Jonah noted the model, mentally adding a hefty price tag to the device. Upon further thought, he realized he had little room to judge considering his own phone. "Siri, how do you say do you understand me in-"
"I speak english" Jonah interrupted. The teen blinked, a giant smirk coming over him.
"Oh sweet, wait" the gears grinding behind his eyes shifted, and his smile faded into a frown. "Well shit."
"Yo Derrick!" one of the tourists yelled, far more loud than what the relatively small shop called for. Both the teen and Jonah looked to the speaker, the latter making mental notes of the two others. Both of the teen's apparent friends were similar, with high dollar clothes suited for the cold outside and an evident self confidence in their body language. Appearance wise they had little in common; one was thick and dark haired, while the other was average but redheaded.
"Whaddya want?" Derrick replied, if nothing else keeping himself from shouting over the fifteen foot gap.
The thick one powered over to them, deceptively fast in spite of his bulk. "How long are you gonna keep fuckin around? We got shit to do" he demanded rudely.
"Shut up Fred, my dads paying for your fat ass to be here" Derrick countered. Behind them, the red haired teen was walking up to him, scowling at the one who accosted Jonah.
"So what? I didn't come here so we could hang out in a fucking mall" Fred snapped.
The redhead huffed. "You assholes remember why you brought me in the first place?" he snarked; the way he spoke was different from the other two. It wasn't British, South African or Australian, leading Jonah to suspect he was Canadian instead. He glanced to Jonah irritably, addressing him. "Is this jackass bothering you?"
"English" Jonah corrected. The redhead swept his gaze to Derrick, scowling at him.
"You fucking retard" he insulted.
"Shove it up your ass Justin, I didn't fucking know" Derrick snarled.
Jonah loudly cleared his throat, catching the arguing trios attention. "What's the problem?"
"This jackass" Justin jabbed a thumb towards a furious Derrick, "Wants to get drunk, and was going to get you to buy him booze" he told him, causing the first teen to snap to him.
"What? No! I was asking for directions you cock!" he snarled indignantly, raising a fist at him. Fred rolled his eyes at the whole affair.
"Oh my god, this is the worst Euro trip of all fucking time" he muttered.
The flat look Jonah was giving them didn't look like it was registering, so intense was their squabbling. It did give him the excuse he needed to turn away, only to nearly bump into Rock.
Taking a hurried step back, he quickly composed himself before continuing. Oddly enough, Rock had a look other than boredom this time. He found out the source of it once he realized she had something in her hands: a classical style dress, like something out of the Victorian era (what he thought was Victorian anyway). Predictably it was black, though it had blue trimming. Rock held it up to him with an expectant look, flicking her eyes towards the cashier's desk on the other side of the tiny shop..
"You want this?" Jonah asked softly, reaching out to it only for her to yank it away from his hand. "I just need to see the price tag" he explained.
Her eyes were narrowed in suspicion, but when he brought his hand closer this time she didn't move. A quick check showed him the cost; the number of euros it went for was far smaller than he was expecting it to be, though by any reasonable standard the price was utterly ridiculous. He deliberated for a couple of seconds. "Sure."
"Damn."
Jonah swiveled his head to the side, narrowing his eyes. The three tourists had ceased their petty arguing, staring with wide eyes at Rock. One look at their overly appreciative expressions made him bristle.
"Almost worth it" Fred commented with an approving nod, Derrick silently agreeing in a similar way.
Justin adopted a smirk, a type Jonah recognized. When the teen began to saunter over to the girl, he stepped in front of him.
"Out of the way man, I'm on the prowl" the teen said, staring at Rock. The girl was starting to return to the clothes rack, but upon noticing the attention she glanced blankly at the redhead. It was nothing like the evident interest he had.
"No" was Jonah's reply. There was an emotion in the boy he was unfamiliar with, but it demanded that he attack the fool right now. Whatever it took to stop their smug advances on Rock. He reigned in the impulse, mostly.
Justin tore his eyes off the girl to level an annoyed frown at him. "Hey asshole, you're screwing with my vibe here."
"She's my-" Jonah hesitated. The Canadian was giving him a strange look, raising a brow. He took a deep breath, deciding to take the plunge.
"She's my girlfriend."
"Doesn't look like it" Fred commented, crossing his meaty arms. In contrast Derrick smirked, moving towards Rock anyway. Jonah started to intercept him, but when Justin moved he had to stop.
Behind them all, Rock looked to Jonah. The look on her face was inscrutable, but her eyes were focused on the dusky toned teenager alone, not so much as flickering to the approaching stranger.
"Well she is. Go find someone else to bother" Jonah lowered his arms, narrowing his eyes at the tourists. Justin in particular smirked, nonplussed at the hostility.
"Or what?" he asked coyly.
Jonah's hard gaze fell on him, making the teen shrink back. The pressure didn't last long, as Fred calmly approached him. Unlike his smaller friend, the thick teen wasn't bothered by the warning cues.
"He asked you a question" he said dangerously, fixating his ruddy gaze on the teen.
Derrick took the chance to touch Rock, attempting to get close. The girl slapped his hands away, but that only made him redouble his efforts to grab her. Jonah took his attention off of Fred for just a moment, intent on stopping him. The thick American saw his chance and threw a punch at the distracted teen; Jonah ducked out of the way, feeling the edge of the powerful fist feather against him.
Rock growled in anger. Before her attacker knew what hit him, a swift punch landed in his midsection, staggering him. Immediately following that was a quick barrage of fists, two hitting his chest again and the last impacting his throat. She hit hard enough to knock the fool onto his back, where he let out a strangled yelp.
Jonah lost any sense of patience. Before Fred could throw another punch, he dove for the inside of the hoodie. The big teen smirked, though at what he didn't know. When he reached for his pocket, Jonah didn't hesitate.
Justin was evidently preparing to enter the fray, but one look made him freeze. The smirk on Fred evaporated just as he yanked out his prize, a small knife. It seemed inconsequential in comparison to Jonah's Hi-Power, especially when the inside of the barrel was there for him to examine.
"Are you listening?" Jonah asked softly, feeling the out of place desire to ventilate the idiots. He heard Rock's breathing behind him, but refrained from checking on her just yet. Derrick pushed himself off the floor, groaning in pain. When he recovered enough to notice the situation, he turned deathly pale.
When all three teens were shakily nodding, he proceeded. "Go away."
Clear, concise, and cold; Koko would be proud. Probably not, given how much she coddled him still, but it was a thought that gave him a moments pleasure anyway. The three turned to run, Fred bowling over the other two while he sprinted to the door. The pair recovered quickly to chase after him, instead of staying to face him down. Jonah replaced the gun under his hoodie, watching the last one half trip as he scrambled out. He bumped into an old man, stumbling him while he ran away. A loud "Verdammte kinder!" followed him out.
Despite the small enjoyment at forcing them to run, Jonah was more relieved he didn't have to flick the safety off, let alone chamber a round. Turning to Rock, he asked "You okay?"
Ruffled jacket and tussled hair was the only sign she showed of the ordeal, eliciting a sigh of relief from him. But one look at the curious expression she wore caused it to fade, anxiety taking its place when she reached into her pocket. Bringing up the phone, she activated it to tap something on the screen. In their off time Lutz and Wiley had taught her to use it once again; her typing speed was pathetic, and she was slow to use the device unless she really wanted to. Presenting the screen to him, Jonah read the one word she had written.
Girlfriend.
Jonah was silent for several seconds, cheeks reddening at a fast rate. He averted his eyes from her, unable to come up with any sort of reply. The girl lowered the phone, adding a raised eyebrow to her inquiring look. Gulping, he decided to move on. "Let's buy that."
Momentarily puzzled at the laid back cashier (fortunately male) occupied with a magazine, Jonah gestured for Rock to hand over her dress. Finally looking up, the French teenager blandly looked over the odd pair, like he didn't just witness the boy drawing a gun a minute earlier. By the way he ran the tag through his machine, he quite possibly didn't. The display beside the register duly gave a sizable number, which Jonah promptly handed over a wad of euros as payment.
Credit side, his question of what Rock wanted was reduced. Not eliminated, but there were now options instead of nothing. He had something to go on anyway. Debit side, a new, exceptionally vexing question had taken its place. He saw her as his girlfriend, but did she see him as her boyfriend? It was easy to say the words, but whether the feelings behind them were there or not, he just didn't know.
Walking out of the store with a shopping bag in hand, he tried shoving the thoughts aside. To no avail; every time he checked on Rock the question occurred to him. Until it didn't, about the time when he saw her stopping in front of a store again. When he looked this time he sighed resignedly. Sweets were her greatest weakness.
One hour later…
He spotted Valmet before she saw them, holding up an arm to catch her attention. The one eyed Finn abruptly changed directions to power over to the now seated pair, flashing them a smile as she approached. Jonah took a second to scrutinize the pair of large shopping bags she was carrying; he expected far more than just two. Rock glanced up from her food to nod at the woman.
"Hi there" Valmet greeted, sliding into the open seat, checking on them both.
"Hey. Find what you wanted?" Jonah asked banally, pushing a tray laden with food towards her. It was cheap fast food, but was better than nothing.
"Thanks. A few things, including some jewelry and clothes I think Koko would love" predictably a blush came over the woman, at which the teen was entirely unsurprised.
Her flush was temporarily suspended when she saw Rock, or rather the two trays in front of her. One was covered by crumpled wrappers and empty cartons, the other she was rapidly transforming into a new version. A look at Jonah showed he had a close copy of the trash laden tray in front of him. His sole line to her frown was a bored "Hungry."
"Uh huh…well, so long as you don't spoil your dinner" Valmet rationalized, picking at her own meal. She sounded like she was trying to convince herself, before giving up and shaking her head. "How about you? I hope you didn't spend all the money you had on you."
In lieu of answering Jonah reached by his feet, where he set the shopping bag. Aware of Rock's watchful gaze, he made sure every move of his was slow and deliberate. Opening the top of the paper like bag to her, Valmet peered inside. She let out a short whistle. "Very nice."
"She liked the dress" Jonah replied, replacing the bag at his feet. Politely refraining from asking how much it costed (just as he refrained from bringing up the tourists), Valmet subsequently tore into her food.
He waited for her to finish the unhealthy lunch, taking a second to see Rock polishing off the last of her super sized order. Where she put the three wraps, three sets of large onion rings, a medium sized sweet cake she silently pressured him into buying, a cookie, and an extra large chocolate shake was a mystery for the ages. More importantly, how she could devour that much food and still eye his relatively normal sized meal was beyond him.
Once she was down to the soda (Jonah guessed a Coke would work for her) Valmet glanced at her watch. "It seems we're on schedule. The film starts in about thirty minutes, so once you two are good we'll get going." she gave Rock a smile. "You like pirate movies?"
The girl's response was a blank stare. Valmet's smile ticked, briefly sucking a breath in through a crack in her lips. "I'll assume yes. I heard this ones supposed to be good."
Jonah didn't know for himself, given his lack of caring for cinema in general. Recalling the Star Wars marathon Koko put him through, or more correctly her reaction to his indifference afterwards, rarely failed to amuse him however. But whether Rock would like the moviegoing experience or not, he wasn't sure. He was getting tired of all the things he didn't know.
Jonah hardly paid attention to the next while, content with being close by Rock. The moderately long line, Valmet buying tickets for them, finding a seat, he glossed over everything. Everything except for the girl somehow finding room for a bag of candy and another soda, which a furtive look towards him and the uncaring people around them told the teen she had no intention of sharing. The one thing to bring him out of autopilot, and it was her bottomless stomach. He tried remembering if she was always like that, but he couldn't recall.
They ended up in the furthest row, with nothing behind the three except the back wall. Jonah spared a look at the projector booth, deliberately taking the seat next to Rock. Valmet fortunately placed herself on the opposite side of him, so it wasn't blatantly obvious what he wanted. Before the lights darkened he noted the theater was only half full; why so few people came to see the movie was a minor puzzle. Maybe it was because the film was terrible, maybe it had been out for a while, or it was just the time of day. He could say with certainty that it didn't matter to him.
Apparently fixated on the screen, Jonah did what he hoped was an excellent job of hiding where his attention lay instead. He was grateful for the gloom, since it made sneaking glances at Rock all the more easier. She on the other hand was resolutely staring ahead, idly devouring her candy then sucking down the extra soda Valmet bought. An automatic check on the Finn showed her making herself comfortable, making several different expressions at the few previews shown. No doubt she was already planning on getting Koko to see them with her.
Once the film proper started, the teen settled in for the long haul. Having forgotten to see how long the movie was, he was left with nothing to do but wait it out. Wait, and sneak looks at the girl. Presently she wasn't looking at him, and even if she was the intermediate darkness was more than enough to hide his peeks.
The opening credits passed, and the movie went on. The main actor was predictably enough handsome, even while filthy and clad in rags. As Jonah watched, the movie established the location as a old style prison somewhere in a tropical 'paradise' hundreds of years ago. Idly the teen began to pick out details of where it was located; while evidently set in the Caribbean, where the production company actually shot the film wasn't immediately obvious. The panning background certainly looked like some areas of costal Africa he'd seen.
Given his overall lack of interest, it was easy to notice Rock picking up at the introduction of the the female lead. The woman on screen was beautiful, wearing a brightly colored version of the same dress he bought earlier. Jonah observed how she tracked the woman, watching the controlled yet energetic movement the actor had going on. The gloom wasn't thick enough to hide her double take when the woman pulled out an old musket from the inside of her dress, in order to wave around the current set. Perhaps she was curious where the woman was hiding the weapon, or what it could do.
Stifling a yawn, Jonah glanced to Valmet as she made tiny coos of excitement at the action on screen. He was far less impressed; the sword fighting on the deck of the sailing ship, while well choreographed, was clearly faked. In ten seconds of dueling he saw four different ways to end the skirmish immediately, not the least of which was using the loaded pistol the male lead still had on his belt. Rock seemed interested, though in her case it was a dry look at the flamboyant battle. He smirked at imagining her in the fight, though it wouldn't last nearly so long with her in the picture.
Then came something which made Jonah distinctly uncomfortable. In the captain's quarters (what he assumed the space was anyway) the leads met, starting with an argument that quickly turned into a passionate kissing session. Cheeks reddening, the teen hurriedly adjusted his seat to do something, anything to halt the thoughts in his head. Leaving the theater was out of the question, so nothing could help him avoid the plainly faked sex scene on screen.
While the couple on screen made out, he tried looking towards anything but the footage taking up a fifth of his sight. In the process, he discovered Rock watching the intimate event. Unlike earlier she was hardly moving at all, utterly engrossed with the scene in front of her. It wasn't the vicarious interest most of the theater's occupants possessed, but something else he had had trouble identifying.
There was a contemplative look on her face, increasing as a slight frown came over the girl's features. Her gear patterned eyes were watching the on screen couple, flicking back and forth over the pair. Momentarily perplexed, Jonah tracked the little twitches on her expression while she watched intently. If he didn't know any better, he would claim she was committing the sight to memory. Like she was studying the actors.
Rock flicked her eyes to the side, catching him staring at her. The blush on the teen's cheeks was magnified exponentially, and he quickly snapped his head back forward no matter what was happening. Jonah's entire body froze, his heart thumping so hard he briefly wondered if anyone else could hear it. Out of the corner of his vision, he was aware that the girl's blank gaze was still on him.
Jonah was a dead man; up until that point there was an excuse for everything he had done. Helping her adjust, show her how things were done, her safety, making sure she didn't get shot, et cetera. There was no justification for his staring now, of which there were so many ways to misinterpret. Any second now he expected a punch, a kick, some type of physical violence to ward him away. He almost wanted someone to pull out a gun, then he could find a way out of the mess. If nothing else a gunman could function as an outlet for her rage.
When a soft pressure touched his arm, he almost jumped. Quaking in place, Jonah creaked his head to the side as slowly as possible. He expected anger, distaste, reproach, or various other emotions which were as obvious as a neon sign that he blew it, that everything he had done was for naught. Bracing for the inevitable, he looked at her.
Rock's features had softened, something unidentifiable in her eyes as she met his gaze. Unconsciously gulping, Jonah glanced to his forearm to discover her hand was resting on the sleeve. She wasn't gripping at all.
Fear turned to abject confusion, especially when she didn't retract her hand. Sneaking in furtive looks, Jonah saw Rock turning back to the movie. Her body language seemed…more relaxed now. Comforted even. The scene playing was a CGI naval battle between sailing ships, yet she didn't look like she was as focused as before. Screams and booms blared from the speakers, but the excitement wasn't engaging her as it did earlier.
Jonah stayed as still as possible, waiting for things to go wrong, like they always did. Any second now she would hurt him, someone would stand up and scream a threat, a Witch would appear, something. He couldn't sit in his seat watching a movie with Rock's hand on him, his life simply didn't work like that.
But nothing happened. Boy and girl watched a movie, in contact with each other. After several minutes, he slowly twisted his arm around, so his palm was facing the ceiling. With as much care as an EOD technician, Jonah moved his hand so it was parallel to Rock's. Then, utilizing ever scrap of delicacy he had in him, he moved his fingers between hers.
He felt the girl stiffening up at the contact, the impulse surging through her to pull back. She didn't like to be touched, a cardinal rule that was established when he first met her so long ago. One he was knowingly breaking right now. Any second she was going to pull away, with a hefty slap to emphasize her irritation.
Which was why she pushed her own hand closer to his, turning a fleeting touch into a full contact even through her glove. In seconds their fingers were intertwined, palms lying against each other with only the insulating glove between them. Jonah's heart thudded in his chest, feeling the start of a cold sweat he had rarely known throughout his life. The moment was going to end badly, he just knew it.
So why was nothing bad happening? Why was he holding hands with Rock with no trouble at all?
A tiny part of the teen's mind told him to shut up and enjoy it while it lasted. With nothing but his crippling paranoia in the way, Jonah did just that.
xXx
R/N; there, how do you humans like that? he wasn't going to put this up, can you believe that? i can see why, that was awful. honestly, newspapers have more engaging romantic dates than this. well, mine do anyway.
so, i took the liberty of getting some help with some parts on the authors behalf. credit for the french and german lines go to generalallanwalker. look at his profile, do it.
now i must be off, theres a pair of hot pants i need to get into͟͏̞͔̮̥ H̶̷̨͕̠̰̬̩̰̣a҉͞͏̲͈̰̗n̸̖̹͔͍̯̩̫͇g̸͏͎͔̩̤̤͈̮̝̀ on a tic, whats this? writing slave, what did you do?
