The Never-Never

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III - Meet Bucky! (Well, Ry Does)

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Ry fingered the end of a strand of her blonde hair, finally sweeping it behind her ear.

The rain blocked the name of the science center, but she knew she was at the right place. After all, she did have a photographic memory, and she'd memorized the map. So now it was just a matter of getting to where she wanted to be inside the building.

And that was where Bucky was.

She held her hand in her pocket, feeling the smooth surface of the snapshot Dr. Clark had given her of him.

Taking a deep breath, she stiffened her resolve and cast a last longing look back at her sister and the NSA official chaperoning them, both seated in a rather fancy black car.

Ry wasn't sure why she felt so horrible, but she did.

"Go into the laboratory building and go to the front desk," echoed Dr. Clark's instructions in her head, "and ask for Jennifer. She'll take you to where Bucky is. Odds are, he'll either be in his lab or his room."

"Well," Ry told herself firmly, "you're never going to get anywhere if you don't move your feet."

It was very hard, she discovered, to move her feet when her muscles didn't want to cooperate. "Move!" she ordered softly and, reluctantly, she was walking forward at a hesitant pace that quickly developed into a hasty sort of run-slip-walk jog. The cement was wet and slick, covered in thick moisture.

I'm feeling rain, she realized as she moved across the street. This delicious wetness, the cold little drops hitting my skin...this is rain.

No text had prepared her for this assault of feel, for the cold and the gentle absurdness of it.

It was strange. She wanted to stop with her little mission and just stand there, in the freezing rain, and feel it, around her, on her, off her.

But in the back of her mind lurked a dark shadow, constantly reminding her to go into the building.

So, sighing, she broke into a full-fledged run, flying across the parking lot on her sneaker-protected feet.

Elbowing the door open, she padded wetly up to the front desk, not noticing the small puddles of water dripping off her flesh and hair.

"Hello," she smiled at the male intern, who appeared shocked, "may I speak to Jennifer?"

The young man, only about sixteen years of age, clamped a hand over his eyes and fumbled for the elongated silver switch that would turn the intercom on. Finally, he flipped the switch, grasped the microphone and plainly spoke into it. "Jennifer report to the main lobby immediately. Repeat, Jennifer report to the main lobby immediately." He kept his hand over his eyes and Ry felt concerned. Did he have some sort of illness?

"Are you all right?" she asked.

He nodded.

Shrugging, she peeled the soaked white t-shirt away from her clammy skin, letting the material then hang heavily the way it should, though the hem remained plastered to her hips.

Following an awkward minute, a tall, willowy woman with dark olive skin and curly blue hair hurriedly bustled into the room, a labcoat buttoned up on her body and another flung over one arm. She took one look at Ry, gasped, and shot across the room. "Oh, dear! Put this on right away!"

Blinking, Ry obeyed, pulling the white coat on. "Is something wrong?"

"Well, you need to wear this if you're going to go into a laboratory! But didn't you know that when a white t-shirt gets wet it...ah...becomes transparent? Poor Felipe must feel so ashamed!" Jennifer, for that was the average-looking woman's name, glanced in amusement at a furiously blushing and nodding Felipe, the intern.

Ry blinked again. "Why should he be ashamed? I'm the one with the wet shirt."

Jennifer paused. "Good point. Anyway, Dr. Clark called me and told me I was supposed to take you to meet Bucky." She paused again, studying Ry's face. "I know I've seen you before..."

Ry shrugged and smiled nervously.

"All right, follow me!"

*

Lifting the photograph up, Ry cocked her head to one side and, for the umpteenth time that day, she looked at the not-so complimentary view of Bucky.

Jennifer, in turn, looked at Ry and grinned to herself. A girl around Bucky's age, acting like she had a crush on his picture...this was something she'd never thought she'd see in her lifetime!

A muffled explosion came from a room up ahead, trails of thick black smoke streaking out from under the closed doors.

Ry's eyes widened remarkably and she pocketed the picture.

"What was that?" she gasped.

Jennifer shrugged carelessly. "Bucky."

The doors were flung open and, staggering, out came a boy with tan skin and dusty brown hair, peeling eye gear off his face to reveal the only skin not covered with ash or some unidentifiable green goop.

"And that," Jennifer smiled mischievously, "is Bucky."

"What?" he asked innocently.

*****

Next chapter: IV - Precocious Isn't Precious, Ry! Heheh. Don't you hate how I do this? I don't even have decent cliffhangers! Man, I'm an awful writer. HA!! SEE IF I CARE!!! I like Bucky, if you haven't noticed. I understand his sarcasm (mainly 'cause I'm sarcastic a lot, but that's beside the point), and he's also cute in a demonic sort of way. Aw, heck. Anywho, leave me a sweet flame in that box they give ya to curse in!!

*****