The One With The Transporter

Chapter Three

By: Jana~

*****~*****

--A cell phone ringing in and of itself wasn't such a big deal, except Chandler knew it was either Joey, or a member of Joey's family, and talking to them could mean trouble.

"Can a cell phone be traced?" Chandler asked the woman, turning to face her. She shrugged, the first direct response she'd given him since he had untied her. He took that as a good sign.

"Me neither," he replied, then pushed the power button, turning the phone off completely.

The sound of ringing ceased instantly, the call dropping from the air, and Chandler sighed as he slipped it into the pocket of his khaki pants. "Coming?"

After he had taken several steps, he started to hear her footsteps following him. Glancing behind, he acknowledged her presence, but then continued on his path to the car.

"Do you know how long you've been in there?" he asked hesitantly, calling back to her. "The- the trunk, I mean," he added. No answer. "Are you hungry?" he turned to ask her. "Thirsty?"

Slowing her pace when he did, she said nothing in return.

He stopped completely, then spun around to face her. "Do you speak English?"

She nodded.

"Ok," he muttered, walking again. "Was starting to wonder." A moment later he asked, "What's your name?"

Silence.

"That's fine," he told her. "You don't have to tell me. I'll just call you 'lady' or something," he added, a hint of sarcasm to his tone. He reached the car seconds later.

--Chandler immediately went to work on fixing the flat tire, grabbing the jack and all necessary tools from the trunk.

"Here," he requested, handing her a flashlight. "Can you hold this for me?"

She took it from him slowly, staring at him for several seconds before pointing it at the tire, and a vision of her bashing him over the head and running off twitched in his brain, causing him concern.

"I'm sure escape is probably highest on your list of things to do right now, but I promise you, I'm not the one you need to be escaping from. Can I trust you to not conk me over the head with that and run away?" he asked, pointing at the flashlight.

She only nodded, so he nodded in return.

"Good enough."

Turning back to the flat once again, he set the jack in place and began to raise the car.

He worked at the lug-nuts once the wheel was off the ground, removing them and placing them in the hubcap. When the light from the flashlight left the wheel, slowly moving off target, he paused, expecting to be hit and knocked out at any moment. Instead, the light moved right back to where it had been, and he inwardly sighed with relief.

They continued in complete silence, her unsure if she could trust him, he unsure of what to say next. He'd already tried several times to talk to her, but she refused to respond. It was frustrating, but he could hardly blame her for her mistrust. After all, she had been bound, gagged, and thrown into a trunk for God knows how long, the first person she sees being him. Her reaction was understandable.

After he tightened up the nuts and put the hubcap back on, he lowered the car, then threw the jack and tools back in the trunk. He held out his hand, gesturing for her to give him back the flashlight, but she seemed hesitant to do so.

"Thinking you'll be safer with a weapon?" he asked, dropping the request and his hand. After slamming the trunk closed he muttered, "I understand," then gestured towards the passenger side of the car. "Your door is unlocked," he informed, then headed for the driver's side.

She hesitated before opening the door and sliding in, and he waited for her before getting in himself.

"I have some chips, and a soda," he offered, "If you're hungry or thirsty." He reached behind him into his duffel bag and retrieved the suggested items, handing them to her.

She took them eagerly, ripping into the bag, juggling the can of lemon-lime drink as she struggled to eat and pop the can open at the same time. He didn't dare try to help her, envisioning her growling and snarling like a wild animal when feeling threatened.

"If you want something more, we can stop in a little bit and grab something," he told her as he started the car, "But right now, I just want to get as far away from this route as possible."

***

--Neither spoke as he drove, veering off the route as soon as the first highway junction presented itself. After nearly a half-hour had passed, he noticed the woman sitting beside him moving and fidgeting in an odd manner.

"You hafta go to the bathroom or something?" he asked, it meant more as a sarcastic joke than anything else, but then she started nodding emphatically.

He forced himself not to laugh, or even smile, feeling guilty for finding it humorous that his joke about why she was doing a little jig in her seat happened to be correct.

"I think I saw a sign about 2 miles back that said there was a gas station up ahead 4 miles. So, if you can hold it another few minutes…"

She nodded again, with less intensity, and he acknowledged her response by nodding in return.

"You know," he tried again to get her to talk to him, "You're already pretty much communicating with me, with all your little head nods and such. Is it that big a deal to talk to me?"

She turned and looked out her window, silent.

"Ok," he apologized. "I'm sorry. If you don't want to talk to me, you don't have to."

Within a few moments, the gas station came into view.

"There ya go," he told her, nodding towards it. "Your salvation."

He saw the hint of a glare from her when he glanced her way, but she turned away so quickly, he couldn't be absolutely sure that was what he'd seen.

--He pulled into the gas station parking lot, and as soon as the car came to a stop, she was off and running towards the bathroom.

"I'm gonna go too," he called to her. "I'll meet you back here!"

She waved as she disappeared into the bathroom marked 'ladies'.

--The bathroom was rank and dank and he considered holding it till he could find a better option further down the road, but not knowing when that would be, he decided to take his chances. Once finished, he washed his hands best he could, considering there was no soap of any kind, then dried his hands on his pants, since there was also no paper products in any form.

"Someone needs to burn that room and start over," he mumbled to himself as he left, immediately looking towards the car for the woman forced into his care. When he didn't see her, he started to become concerned.

Had she run off? Was she still in the bathroom? His fears were laid to rest somewhat quickly as he spotted her in the mini-mart, at the counter, purchasing a multitude of snack items.

He stepped in quietly, undetected, watching as she paid the obviously bored cashier for her food and drink.

"Thank you," she said as she accepted her change, and Chandler raised an eyebrow.

Even after all she had been through, she still managed to be polite. That said something to Chandler about her character.

"Sure," he told her discreetly once beside her, "You talk to him."

The cashier chuckled. "Missus problems, eh?"

Chandler smiled, allowing the man on the other side of the counter to believe what he wanted to, and the woman exhaled sharply, obviously irritated as she snatched her bag off the counter and stormed out of the building.

Chandler shrugged, offering a strained smile, then followed her out the door.

--They had been driving for several minutes before he offered her an apology.

"I'm sorry about back there," he told her sincerely. "It's just, I've been trying really hard to be understanding about all this, and I don't think you really realize, that this is hard for me too! With you refusing to talk to me, it just makes it that much harder! And I guess I just figured that you were too upset to talk, but then I hear you talking to Mr. Boredom…" He trailed off, then sighed. "Sorry, I don't know what is considered proper etiquette for a situation like this."

She seemed to be listening to him, but still she said nothing. She just sat quietly, eating her newly purchased junk food.

"Hey, um," he stammered. "I shared my chips with you, could I maybe have a few of those gummi bears?"

Without pause she nodded, then opened the bag and handed it to him.

"Thanks."

It was several minutes later, after the gummi bears had been consumed before he spoke again.

"You know, I'm not exactly sure what all is going on, and I'm sure you don't know much either, but if we work together, tell each other what we know, maybe we can find a way to fix this dilemma we now find ourselves in and not be killed."

No response.

"Fine," he said with a gesture of his hands that indicated his frustration. "Whenever you're ready," he added, then fell silent for several seconds. "If I at least knew your name," he cited. "At least that would be something."

Several silent minutes passed before two softly spoken words cut through the absolute quiet.

"I'm Monica."

TBC…

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