This chapter is a little sillier, but it gets more serious next chap, heh.
THE THIN LINE BETWEEN--- CHAPTER 3
Disclaimers in chapter 1
By Slayne
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
They were silent and motionless for a moment, trying to comprehend all that had just happened and how they had ended up here...handcuffed together...locked in a bank vault. Cover Girl glanced at Beach Head, and found him glaring at her. His brown eyes looked black in the dim light and his 'high and tight' styled dark brown hair made him look the epitome of a military drill sergeant.
"What?" she snapped.
"This is all your fault." He said, his expression conveying the words with an extra kick.
She gritted her teeth behind closed lips and jerked her wrist in the cuff. "Well...next time use the regular army hand signals or something a little more obvious when you want me to kick some ass."
"We've been working so well together lately, that I thought I didn't HAVE to!" he retorted.
Courtney opened her mouth to respond and then paused and shut it again. Was that a complement or an insult? She wasn't sure.
"You weren't very helpful." He stated. OK...now THAT was an insult.
"Yeah? Well you weren't exactly 'Death From Above', Mr. Airborne Ranger!"
He made a dismissive sound and suddenly began walking towards the back of the vault.
"Hey!" Cover Girl protested as the cuffs jerked her roughly after him. He stopped abruptly and turned, and she stumbled into him. She had to place a hand on his chest to keep herself from falling against him. She jerked it back as soon as she gained her feet, but wasn't sure why it was so important to her that she not touch him.
"Stop it!" she seethed as he looked down at her patronizingly. She jerked their cuffed hands up to eye level. "Wherever you go...I go...so stop lurching around!"
"We need to look for a way out."
They both looked around the dimly lit vault. There was a small air exchanger on the ceiling, but that was about it. It was about the size of a normal bedroom and filled with shelves and locked drawers. They tried the door again with no luck and, unfortunately, the bank did not store cutting torches or small explosives within their vault.
"We're just going to have to wait until tomorrow morning." Cover Girl sighed. That drew another glare from her companion.
"Well, what do you want to do? If you have any better ideas then, by all means, let me know!"
"I'll tell you what I didn't want to do! Spend the night locked in a cell with you!"
"If you'd have just left and let me call the police like I wanted to..."
"If you hadn't fallen through the ceiling and pulled me with you...!"
"If you hadn't tried to take on three armed gunmen by yourself and proven yourself a threat...!"
"If you had picked up my signal..."
"OK! Hold it!!" Courtney yelled as she brought her hands up to her head, burying them in her blond hair and trying to calm down.
"Stop it!" Beach Head snapped and jerked his hand back down to his side, bringing hers along.
"Oh my God...the guy was right...we're gonna kill each other." Cover Girl exclaimed. How the hell did this man get under her skin so deeply?
"All right, look..." Beach Head said, calmer now. "It's fine, OK? We've got air and as soon as the robbers let that manager go, he'll call the cops and they'll be out here. We've just gotta relax..."
"Easy for you to say..." Courtney muttered, glancing around at the confined space. "What happens if we have to go to the bathroom?"
He paused at that and looked at her. "Do you have to go?"
"No!"
"Thank God." The relief in his eyes was palpable and she grinned slightly.
"Scare ya a bit, Sneeden?"
"Nothing about you scares me."
She doubted that but said nothing.
"Besides," he went on, trying the door once more. "You'd better just hope I don't have to go...I'm right-handed."
The picture that placed in her mind made her wince and shake her head. "Ughhh...stop it!"
She heard him actually chuckle at that. She watched as his thighs flexed and his arms hardened to steel as he tried to force the door latch. She jerked her gaze away and stared at the wall.
"Damn..." he swore as he relaxed and let go of the latch. "We're not going anywhere until someone lets us out of here."
"No kidding..." Courtney rolled her eyes and he looked over just in time to catch it. He stared into her dark blue eyes and his gaze darkened.
"Don't even..." he warned and she shrugged, giving up.
He turned around, holding his hand up as he did so, so she could move with him.
"We might as well get comfortable." He decided, sliding down the door to sit on the floor, dragging her arm down as well. She exhaled loudly and sank down beside him. The silence in the vault was nearly deafening. They stared straight ahead.
"So..." Courtney looked at her watch. It was 22:00 hours. (10:00 p.m.) "What the hell do we do for the next...8 hours?"
23:00-
"OK...one, two, three...GO!"
"Damn..."
"Yes! Paper covers rock!"
SMACK!
"Ow! You're supposed to slap my fist, not my forehead, Courtney!"
"Oh? Hmm. Sorry, that's just the way my friends played in school."
"Where was that? Model school?"
"Forget it...let's go. One, two, three...GO!"
"Damn!"
"Yes!"
SMACK!
"Ow!"
23:30-
"I TOLD you, I didn't go to 'model' school. I went to Northwestern for college. I didn't even like modeling that much."
0:00-
"So this blond goes in to have her hair done..."
"Oh stop! Please..."
"And she's wearing a Walkman with these headphones over her ears...."
"How do you even KNOW a joke, Beach?"
"And the hairdresser says 'hey...I can't cut your hair with those things on your head. You gotta take them off..."
"I'm really not in the mood to be antagonized, Beach Head."
"And the blond says 'no, no...just cut around them...I really need them.' So the hairdresser tries to cut around the earphones, but it's really not working. It looks horrible..."
"Beach..."
"So the hairdresser says 'look...you really have to take those off, I just can't do a good job.' So the blond thinks about it and finally says 'fine...I'll take them off.' So she takes the earphones off and a few minutes later, suddenly drops dead right in the chair..."
"What? Why?"
"I'm gettin' to that...so the hairdresser is freaked out, of course, and wonders what was so important that the blond had to wear the earphones. So she reaches down and grabs them, puts them on her ears, and listens..."
"And?"
"And she hears a voice saying 'breathe......breathe........breathe...........' Heh!"
"I hate you Beach Head."
0:30-
"It's PART of my combat uniform, ok? When I wear my combat uniform, I wear it too. When I am out of uniform, I take it off...why is that so hard for everyone to understand?"
1:00-
"I wanna be an Airborne Ranger...I wanna live a life of danger..."
"Stop singing! I'm trying to get some sleep!"
2:00-
"...is supposed to be a highly elite special forces team. We NEED to have discipline and dedication or Cobra is going to win."
"We're all dedicated, Beach...But some of us have a life outside of the team, hard as that may be to understand. And we like it that way."
"Then you shouldn't be here...you need to give everything you have or nothing!"
Courtney sighed.
2:30-
"And how does he get away with that? If I ran things, I guarantee...."
3:00-
"...and furthermore...if Duke can't handle...."
Courtney jerked her head up from dozing. Oh God...he was still at it. Her gaze scanned the shelves hopefully. Was is possible to fashion some sort of crude noose from currency and then hang oneself with it?
3:30-
Cover Girl was staring blankly at the wall in front of her. She blinked once.
"...it weakens the unit! Personal relationships are strictly forbidden between officers and enlisted personnel...I don't understand why Hawk won't do something about them..."
Courtney suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs for a long, long moment. Beach Head stared at her, startled.
"For the love of God! Stop it, Wayne! Please stop! PLEASE! Just tell me what I have to do to make you SHUT UP!"
Their gazes locked together and he frowned.
"How about just asking?"
Courtney groaned and buried her head in her bent knees. "God, you bug me, Wayne."
TO BE CONTINUED..................SOON, I PROMISE!
THE THIN LINE BETWEEN--- CHAPTER 3
Disclaimers in chapter 1
By Slayne
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
They were silent and motionless for a moment, trying to comprehend all that had just happened and how they had ended up here...handcuffed together...locked in a bank vault. Cover Girl glanced at Beach Head, and found him glaring at her. His brown eyes looked black in the dim light and his 'high and tight' styled dark brown hair made him look the epitome of a military drill sergeant.
"What?" she snapped.
"This is all your fault." He said, his expression conveying the words with an extra kick.
She gritted her teeth behind closed lips and jerked her wrist in the cuff. "Well...next time use the regular army hand signals or something a little more obvious when you want me to kick some ass."
"We've been working so well together lately, that I thought I didn't HAVE to!" he retorted.
Courtney opened her mouth to respond and then paused and shut it again. Was that a complement or an insult? She wasn't sure.
"You weren't very helpful." He stated. OK...now THAT was an insult.
"Yeah? Well you weren't exactly 'Death From Above', Mr. Airborne Ranger!"
He made a dismissive sound and suddenly began walking towards the back of the vault.
"Hey!" Cover Girl protested as the cuffs jerked her roughly after him. He stopped abruptly and turned, and she stumbled into him. She had to place a hand on his chest to keep herself from falling against him. She jerked it back as soon as she gained her feet, but wasn't sure why it was so important to her that she not touch him.
"Stop it!" she seethed as he looked down at her patronizingly. She jerked their cuffed hands up to eye level. "Wherever you go...I go...so stop lurching around!"
"We need to look for a way out."
They both looked around the dimly lit vault. There was a small air exchanger on the ceiling, but that was about it. It was about the size of a normal bedroom and filled with shelves and locked drawers. They tried the door again with no luck and, unfortunately, the bank did not store cutting torches or small explosives within their vault.
"We're just going to have to wait until tomorrow morning." Cover Girl sighed. That drew another glare from her companion.
"Well, what do you want to do? If you have any better ideas then, by all means, let me know!"
"I'll tell you what I didn't want to do! Spend the night locked in a cell with you!"
"If you'd have just left and let me call the police like I wanted to..."
"If you hadn't fallen through the ceiling and pulled me with you...!"
"If you hadn't tried to take on three armed gunmen by yourself and proven yourself a threat...!"
"If you had picked up my signal..."
"OK! Hold it!!" Courtney yelled as she brought her hands up to her head, burying them in her blond hair and trying to calm down.
"Stop it!" Beach Head snapped and jerked his hand back down to his side, bringing hers along.
"Oh my God...the guy was right...we're gonna kill each other." Cover Girl exclaimed. How the hell did this man get under her skin so deeply?
"All right, look..." Beach Head said, calmer now. "It's fine, OK? We've got air and as soon as the robbers let that manager go, he'll call the cops and they'll be out here. We've just gotta relax..."
"Easy for you to say..." Courtney muttered, glancing around at the confined space. "What happens if we have to go to the bathroom?"
He paused at that and looked at her. "Do you have to go?"
"No!"
"Thank God." The relief in his eyes was palpable and she grinned slightly.
"Scare ya a bit, Sneeden?"
"Nothing about you scares me."
She doubted that but said nothing.
"Besides," he went on, trying the door once more. "You'd better just hope I don't have to go...I'm right-handed."
The picture that placed in her mind made her wince and shake her head. "Ughhh...stop it!"
She heard him actually chuckle at that. She watched as his thighs flexed and his arms hardened to steel as he tried to force the door latch. She jerked her gaze away and stared at the wall.
"Damn..." he swore as he relaxed and let go of the latch. "We're not going anywhere until someone lets us out of here."
"No kidding..." Courtney rolled her eyes and he looked over just in time to catch it. He stared into her dark blue eyes and his gaze darkened.
"Don't even..." he warned and she shrugged, giving up.
He turned around, holding his hand up as he did so, so she could move with him.
"We might as well get comfortable." He decided, sliding down the door to sit on the floor, dragging her arm down as well. She exhaled loudly and sank down beside him. The silence in the vault was nearly deafening. They stared straight ahead.
"So..." Courtney looked at her watch. It was 22:00 hours. (10:00 p.m.) "What the hell do we do for the next...8 hours?"
23:00-
"OK...one, two, three...GO!"
"Damn..."
"Yes! Paper covers rock!"
SMACK!
"Ow! You're supposed to slap my fist, not my forehead, Courtney!"
"Oh? Hmm. Sorry, that's just the way my friends played in school."
"Where was that? Model school?"
"Forget it...let's go. One, two, three...GO!"
"Damn!"
"Yes!"
SMACK!
"Ow!"
23:30-
"I TOLD you, I didn't go to 'model' school. I went to Northwestern for college. I didn't even like modeling that much."
0:00-
"So this blond goes in to have her hair done..."
"Oh stop! Please..."
"And she's wearing a Walkman with these headphones over her ears...."
"How do you even KNOW a joke, Beach?"
"And the hairdresser says 'hey...I can't cut your hair with those things on your head. You gotta take them off..."
"I'm really not in the mood to be antagonized, Beach Head."
"And the blond says 'no, no...just cut around them...I really need them.' So the hairdresser tries to cut around the earphones, but it's really not working. It looks horrible..."
"Beach..."
"So the hairdresser says 'look...you really have to take those off, I just can't do a good job.' So the blond thinks about it and finally says 'fine...I'll take them off.' So she takes the earphones off and a few minutes later, suddenly drops dead right in the chair..."
"What? Why?"
"I'm gettin' to that...so the hairdresser is freaked out, of course, and wonders what was so important that the blond had to wear the earphones. So she reaches down and grabs them, puts them on her ears, and listens..."
"And?"
"And she hears a voice saying 'breathe......breathe........breathe...........' Heh!"
"I hate you Beach Head."
0:30-
"It's PART of my combat uniform, ok? When I wear my combat uniform, I wear it too. When I am out of uniform, I take it off...why is that so hard for everyone to understand?"
1:00-
"I wanna be an Airborne Ranger...I wanna live a life of danger..."
"Stop singing! I'm trying to get some sleep!"
2:00-
"...is supposed to be a highly elite special forces team. We NEED to have discipline and dedication or Cobra is going to win."
"We're all dedicated, Beach...But some of us have a life outside of the team, hard as that may be to understand. And we like it that way."
"Then you shouldn't be here...you need to give everything you have or nothing!"
Courtney sighed.
2:30-
"And how does he get away with that? If I ran things, I guarantee...."
3:00-
"...and furthermore...if Duke can't handle...."
Courtney jerked her head up from dozing. Oh God...he was still at it. Her gaze scanned the shelves hopefully. Was is possible to fashion some sort of crude noose from currency and then hang oneself with it?
3:30-
Cover Girl was staring blankly at the wall in front of her. She blinked once.
"...it weakens the unit! Personal relationships are strictly forbidden between officers and enlisted personnel...I don't understand why Hawk won't do something about them..."
Courtney suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs for a long, long moment. Beach Head stared at her, startled.
"For the love of God! Stop it, Wayne! Please stop! PLEASE! Just tell me what I have to do to make you SHUT UP!"
Their gazes locked together and he frowned.
"How about just asking?"
Courtney groaned and buried her head in her bent knees. "God, you bug me, Wayne."
TO BE CONTINUED..................SOON, I PROMISE!