AN: Glad to see a few new names leaving reviews, that's always appreciated. Also, the Loudcest-hating guy who went into a story clearly labeled as Loudcest, apparently just so he could complain about it. Wish I had that much free time, you're living the dream, buddy.
So I've been sitting on the idea for this chapter since like...10 chapter ago, more or less. And it's only gotten weirder and weirder as time has gone on. Probably for the best that I finally get to write it, who knows what permutations it'd go through if I waited any longer. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy.
It was strange, Lincoln Loud mused to himself, how routine even the most unusual of circumstances could become. One minute, he'd found himself having something that was beginning to strongly resemble a heart to heart with Lynn, and the next he found himself slung over someone's shoulders and carried off against his will. The bouncing, shapely female rear before him serving as the only indication of who his current mode of transportation might be.
"Sam?" He ventured, reasonably confident in his assessment of the cyan clad asset currently occupying his field of vision.
"Hey, Lincoln." Came the expected reply.
"How's it going?"
"Pretty good. How about you?"
Lincoln paused to consider his options. On the one hand, these friendly abductions, carried out by the various women in his life were becoming distressingly commonplace. On the other hand, working his booth had been exhausting, and it was kind of nice to get off his feet for a bit. If nothing else, the view certainly didn't disappoint.
"...Can't complain." He responded at last, trying to keep his voice level.
"Awesome."
Lincoln hoped for the blonde to volunteer more, but nothing seemed forthcoming.
"Anything you want to talk about?" He prompted the older girl.
"Nah. It's like, this whole...thing. You know?"
"Not really."
"It's like..." Sam trailed off, hemming to fill the conversational void. Lincoln found the sound to be oddly lyrical.
"Remember issue #196?" She said at last.
Lincoln blinked in confusion. "Attack of the Deceptively Fast Gingerbread People?"
"Err, sorry. I meant #169."
"Oh, The Mile Nightclub. Where Ace fakes his own kidnapping so Nightclub is forced to confront a deep personal truth about herself?"
"That's the one."
Lincoln frowned in concentration, trying to make the connection. Suddenly, understanding dawned upon him.
"Wait...is this a reenactment? Are we roleplaying?"
Another pause. "Yes, Lincoln. That is exactly what we are doing. Roleplaying. You, me, and Luna."
"Wow!" Lincoln exclaimed, a rush of euphoria briefly displacing the blood that was pooling in his head.
"That's so cool! But why that issue? I mean, I liked it, but it was based on a fan commission. That didn't go over very well with readers."
"T-trust me." She replied, giving him a reassuring smile. "It's one of your best."
"Well, thank you, I'm flattered." A thought occurred to him. "Except, I didn't think Luna was into that kind of stuff."
"Part of being a good girlfriend is introducing your partner to new experiences." Sam responded, cheerfully. "And with your help, I think we can make Luna a big fan of...roleplaying."
"Well in that case, you have my full support."
"Fantastic."
"So...now that we've got that sorted out, are you going to let me down?"
"Sorry sweetie, no can do. You're being kidnapped, remember?"
"Right, right. Carry on."
Becky checked her phone for the umpteenth time and sighed again. She didn't even know why she bothered. It wasn't like she could just bail at this point, she'd invested too much time and energy into this thing What was she gonna do, waltz off and buy an overpriced pretzel? Let all that hard work go to waste? No, no she wasn't. And not just because she couldn't afford the hit to her credit rating.
She was resolute. No matter how long it took, no matter how sore she got from sitting on this profoundly uncomfortable countertop, she would not yield. Tonight, she was going home with her adorable, albeit frustratingly obtuse, little man. And he was going to thank her for the privilege. Even if it took all night. Especially if it took all night.
Becky suddenly leapt to her feet, eyes narrowing as she scanned the crowd before her. There was...a presence here. Unknown to her, but somehow familiar. That was when she noticed the tiny, almost imperceptible ripples in the crowd.
A figure emerged. Specter, might have been a more appropriate terms, gliding almost imperceptibly from the throng of convention goers. Clad in a dark cowl, hood pulled low to obscure their features, the figure drifted slowly but steadily towards her. Becky felt a familiar sense of dread as the distance continued to decrease between them. Not from terror, but rather from something far more primal. For though the being in question had clearly strove for something ethereal with their choice of wardrobe, it was impossible to fully conceal the shape beneath the cloth. Try as they might, steady as their stride may have been there was no hiding the way the material would occasionally catch, however briefly, elucidating as to the shape of the form contained within. Female. Incredibly, obviously, undeniably female.
After what felt like an eternity, the figure finally arrived, stopping but scant feet away from where Becky was resting. It took a little finagling, but at this distance Becky was able to peer through the hood, and glimpse what lay inside. Raven black hair framing an equally dark, piercing gaze. Features which could be considered quite pretty, were it not for the permanent scowl that adorned the face. And undeniably female, Becky noted to herself with some small amount of satisfaction, even as she groaned internally. Because there was only one reason a woman would ever come to Lincoln's booth. There was only, ever, one-
"I'm looking for Lincoln." The girl murmured, her voice barely perceptible amid the din of the convention.
...Dang it.
"He's not here." Becky said, drawing herself up to her full height, which gave her considerable vantage over the other girl. "He...left. But I'd be happy to pass on a message for you." Eventually. What difference would one, or five years make in the grand scheme of things?
The other girl stared up at her, clearly unimpressed. Becky saw the other girl's eyes begin to wander, taking in the state of the booth. Then they stopped. Becky spared the briefest of glances behind her, trying to ascertain the target. Then she saw it. Bee Leni. Traitorous, treacherous Bee Leni. Double dang it.
"That's alright." Replied the other girl, making her way over to the table. Her tone hadn't changed in the slightest, but Becky could feel smugness, where there once was none.
She gestured to the placard. "Looks like he'll be back soon. I think I'll wait. Right here."
"Fine." Becky growled, eyes narrowing.
"Indeed." The other girl replied, responding in kind.
The pair stared at each other from across the empty table. It seemed Becky's wait had gotten that much weightier.
Sam peered down at the convention beneath her, the attendees scurrying around like metaphorical ants, unaware that they were being watched.
She and Lincoln were making preparations upon the con's center stage. She'd chosen this particular position for several reasons. First, being the aforementioned vantage. It was imperative that that she could see, and be seen from any part of the convention. Luna was on the war path now, if her constantly buzzing phone was any indication. The second she found out where they were, she'd swoop in to rescue Lincoln. Which was the point, obviously, but not until the proper time.
Sam winced as a sharp whine assaulted her senses, and instinctively ducked behind a large cardboard standee, shooting a meaningful glance at her assistant/hostage.
"Sorry, Sam." Lincoln apologized, flushed with embarrassment. He gingerly fiddled with the amp before him, wary of repeating his mistake.
Sam took a calming breath to re-center herself. It wasn't his fault, these things happened.
"Its alright Linc." She said, peaking around the corner of her hiding spot. No angry girlfriends charging the stage, that was a good sign.
"How it going?" She called behind her.
"This is a little different from the stuff you and Luna use...but I think we're about ready to go."
"Beautiful." She said, grinning as she scurried back towards the younger boy. It was almost time, no need to get sloppy now. Moments later, Lincoln gave her an emphatic nod. It was time.
"Alright." She said, rubbing her hands together with anticipation. "One last check before showtime." She looked to Lincoln, who was currently rifling through her back pack.
"Wireless, hands-free mic?"
"Check." He responded, handing her the item in question.
"Back up batteries?"
"Check."
"Nefarious implements of nefariousness?"
"Check? I guess? Can you attribute moral failings to a bunch of inanimate objects?"
"Details" She replied, waiving her hands dismissively. "Smokebombs?"
"We ran out of paper. Should I get more?"
"Don't worry about it. At this point, I guess there's nowhere to fall back to anyway. What about the rope?"
"Check."
Sam took one last calming breath. Showtime.
She walked towards the center of the stage, motioning for Lincoln to follow her. Along the way, she retrieved a chair she'd stashed sometime earlier.
"Sorry I couldn't get you something with more padding." She apologized, setting it up. In a perfect world it would have been large and imposing. More throne than chair, with spikes protruding from the sides, and possibly some kind of cup holder. But she'd had to settle for a basic folding chair, stolen from another booth.
"It's fine." Lincoln assured her, "I've sat in worse."
Lincoln hopped into the chair and, much to her surprise, quickly went about tying himself up. When he was finished, Sam inspected his handiwork, marveling at the intricate knots he'd somehow woven. Finding no obvious weaknesses in the setup with her eyes, she began tugging at his restraints. To her amazement, they were rock solid.
"How did you..." She began, genuinely bewildered.
"I mean, it's basically just like untying yourself. But in reverse. Right?"
Sam blinked. "Alright. But why would you have to-"
"Luan." He said, simply.
"Ah." She responded, nodding in understanding. "'Nuff said."
Sam tousled the younger boy's hair affectionately. "Need me to get you anything before we start?"
"Nah, I'm good. Go get em, Sam!"
"Thanks, Linc." She started to walk away but, acting on impulse, leaned down instead, and gave the boy a quick kiss on the cheek.
"That's for being such a great helper" She purred, giggling as Lincoln immediately went from calm, collected assistant, to a blushing stammering mess. Alright, enough games.
"CITIZENS OF ROYAL WOODS" She announced, her voice booming throughout the convention hall, courtesy of the speakers she and Lincoln had set up.
"I, AM THE CARD SHARP! AND I COME BEFORE YOU TODAY TO ANNOUNCE A TRULY MOMENTOUS OCCASION! THE CAPTURE, OF ACE SAVVY!"
With a flourish, Sam gestured to her companion, who simply sat there, grinning bashfully. To her surprise, and extreme gratification, she could actually hear gasps of surprise and alarm coming from the gathering crowd. She almost certainly had Luna's attention by this point, time to reel her in.
"I KNOW THAT ACE'S MOST TRUSTED COMPANION, THE NIGHTCLUB, LURKS AMONG YOU. SHE PROBABLY THINKS HERSELF CAPABLE OF RESCUING HER BELOVED PARTNER FROM MY MACHINATIONS."
"WELL," Sam paused for dramatic effect. "IF SHE HOPES TO DO SO, SHE'D BETTER DO IT QUICKLY."
Sam gestured to a nearby television screen, causing a five minute, and forty-five second countdown to appear. She glanced in confusion at Lincoln, who could only shrug in response. At least he tried. Thwarted by his own handiwork, the ropes impeded his ability to shrug, resulting in something more akin to a violent twitch. But the message was clear enough.
"AS YOU CAN SEE, YOU HAVE...A LITTLE UNDER SIX MINUTES...APPARENTLY...TO RESCUE ACE!"
With that, she crossed to the center of the and sat herself down in Lincoln's lap, wrapping herself around him for stability. She took a moment to enjoy the way his heartbeat quickened, before continuing.
"SHOULD YOU FAIL TO DO SO WITHIN THE ALLOTTED TIME, I..." She took a deep breath "WILL KISS! ACE! SAVVY!"
Silence fell upon the crowd, the seconds ticking by. Then, just as the silence seemed unbearable, the crowd erupted into noise, presumably due to the nefariousness of her scheme. Heartened by the reaction, Sam geared herself up for the big finish.
"CLOCK'S TICKING, NIGHTCLUB!" She announced. Then, the moment she'd been waiting for. Sam threw back her head, and unleashed the villainous cackle she'd been practicing for weeks.
"UWA HA HA HA HA!"
With that, Sam let out a sigh of relief. Phase one was complete. Now to play the waiting game.
"Y-you know, Sam" Lincoln stammered, "That laugh was great, but I bet you could make it at least 10% more evil if you went with something more like a 'Mwa ha ha'.
"Thank you, sweetie." She replied, genuinely touched by his thoughtfulness. It was at this point that she realized she was still wrapped around the younger boy.
Her laughter still echoing through the convention center, Sam allowed herself a brief respite, and leaned into her accomplice, enjoying the sensation of their bodies entwined together. Luna had better hurry up and get over herself. Sam really wanted Luna to be the first to partake of the third member of their band, but it was getting harder and harder to restrain herself.
"Sam!" Lincoln squeaked in embarrassment, struggling against the prison of his own making. Sam took a moment to enjoy the irony before she resumed nuzzling her face against his neck. Such a cutie.
"THANK YOU, SWEETIE"
As Sam's words rang out into the crowd, three sets of eyes, in three different parts of the convention narrowed in anger.
"Game on." Lynn growled, eagerly cracking her knuckles.