Jet dragged Spike to a nearby balcony overlooking the lower 27 levels of the mall and released him. "I was able to...mm, *persuade* the Hot Topics to give us a map," he said, spreading out a spotted, yellowing piece of paper on the ledge. He placed his finger on a large red dot. "We Are Here. Von Seussberg's been spotted near the south side of the mall, less than a mile from the food court, moving west. If we cut through the Macy's, we can head her off."
"Shit, I should've asked him to buy me lunch," muttered Spike, rubbing the back of his neck.
"What?"
"Mm, never mind. Give me the map." After a brief consultation, the two bounty hunters set out through the Macy's. The humidity made everything heavier, slower, like walking through molasses. Not many people had been through here since the air conditioning had busted. The mildewing clothes loomed on all sides, racks caving in, or dripping prom dresses like Spanish moss.
Cutting through what seemed like the thousandth kicky blazer with his blowtorch, Spike suddenly caught sight of a familiar face. "It's her!"
The bounty hunters burst forth from the fashionable underbrush with pistols drawn, surprising their quarry into a dead run. She cut through Menswear and Maternity, almost losing them in the Petites. Finally she careened through Returns and ducked into a service elevator. Jet & Spike, hot in pursuit, dashed into the next. Both leaned against the walls, breathing hard. Spike grinned at his partner. The chase was the best part, after all.
The elevator lurched suddenly and stopped, throwing all 230 pounds of Jet against Spike, dropping the two like a sack of flour.
Jet found his lips no more than two inches from Spike's own. Their eyes locked. Spike shifted his hips, pressing them against Jet's growing erection. He leaned up, intent on Jet's mouth.
"Shit, I should've asked him to buy me lunch," muttered Spike, rubbing the back of his neck.
"What?"
"Mm, never mind. Give me the map." After a brief consultation, the two bounty hunters set out through the Macy's. The humidity made everything heavier, slower, like walking through molasses. Not many people had been through here since the air conditioning had busted. The mildewing clothes loomed on all sides, racks caving in, or dripping prom dresses like Spanish moss.
Cutting through what seemed like the thousandth kicky blazer with his blowtorch, Spike suddenly caught sight of a familiar face. "It's her!"
The bounty hunters burst forth from the fashionable underbrush with pistols drawn, surprising their quarry into a dead run. She cut through Menswear and Maternity, almost losing them in the Petites. Finally she careened through Returns and ducked into a service elevator. Jet & Spike, hot in pursuit, dashed into the next. Both leaned against the walls, breathing hard. Spike grinned at his partner. The chase was the best part, after all.
The elevator lurched suddenly and stopped, throwing all 230 pounds of Jet against Spike, dropping the two like a sack of flour.
Jet found his lips no more than two inches from Spike's own. Their eyes locked. Spike shifted his hips, pressing them against Jet's growing erection. He leaned up, intent on Jet's mouth.