No one can say I'm not posting fast enough for this series! I only hope you're enjoying these random scenes of many Tiva dimensions...


Requisite

Somewhere in the firefight, an unrelated state of affairs will be pondered. It could be said that she does her best thinking while pinned down.

Bullets penetrate plaster while the sad notes of a shell casing symphony tinker on the filthy cement. There's an echo in the empty warehouse, a sound strangely like heartbreak.

The team holds the line.

Justice cannot retreat because right must, in this idealistic country, prevail. Everyone's a superhero.

But no one is bulletproof.

Their leader maintains his position despite the gang's machine gun enthusiasm, directing traffic behind a pillar and looking entirely inconvenienced by events.

They had such decadent plans today.

She watches the green of his eyes darken as the enemy's aim improves. Too close to her head and she'll duck lower in deference to his worry.

The probie's call had roused them from bed. For this.

Danger eats from the plate of security and some may tire of such things. Their former boss certainly did, leaving his second to fill the gap. Again.

What had once been opportunistic trysts has devolved into stolen minutes. He stands so near and yet she misses him.

Too many things press for his attention.

She is not forgotten but no less forsaken.

He cannot combat the claws of responsibility, not now when they need him to lead. And this time they follow.

Follow into the fray and into forever should the moment insist.

Exiting with their lives does not mean a return to her sanctuary. There will be interrogations, debriefs and reports. Justice means paperwork.

They will leave at purposed intervals, citing a truthful exhaustion but lying about the remedy. What is frowned upon between partners is abjectly forbidden in these new roles.

His key slides into her lock and decadence is resumed because survival is an underrated aphrodisiac.

Time is the requisite of this love.