Title: To Catch A Terrorist
Author: Stara and Nataku
Author Notes: A VERY short tidbit of a story idea we're tossing around. Should we continue and make it into something or should we just leave well enough alone? Your choice! ^_^ Let us know whatcha think. ^.~ It's basically one of Stara's old stories that we're redoing and putting a twist on. Knowing us, it'll just get weirder.
"Get off of me you son of a-"
"Now, now, that language isn't necessary."
"Isn't ncessary my ass!" I pushed him off of me and reached my arm out for my gun. A girl should never leave home without one.
"Come off it, Usagi, I'm just trying to help you."
"I'm sure." I flashed a smile his way, shoving the end of the pistol right between his eyes. "I'd say thank you, but helping me pull my shirt over my head isn't what I need right now."
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." He put his hands above his head, shaking like crazy. Gods what a baby! "Just don't shoot me." I put the gun in my pocket and sat down on the end of his bed, taking out a piece of gum and pretending to be absorbed in the act of chewing it. He moved over to a chair and sat down staring at me.
"Don't look at me like that." I glared at him. I couldn't say that he was the first though. My day job was a mechanic, so I was wearing a pair of jean shorts and a tee. Nothing to stare at, right? Wrong. God had cursed me with a perfect "brickwall" figure and had thrown in beach-blonde hair to boot. Lucky me. Men didn't bother to hide the fact that they would die at a chance to get me into a dark alley. Ugh. Sometimes being a woman really sucked.
"I can't help it." He smiled cheekily, a bold move for someone who had been shivering moments before. "I am a man, you know." Boy, did I know. With his playful blonde hair and piercing green eyes he could woe his way into any woman's bed. Oh, I can't forget the perfect body structure either, my hands were itching to run over that six pack. He would've liked nothing better, but I was here on business. And no, it wasn't mechanics crap either.
"I really couldn't tell with you screaming like a girl back there." He frowned.
"You think you're a real bad ass don't you?"
"Depends on what you're asking for."
"What ARE you asking for?"
"I'm looking for someone." I let that sink in as I weighed my words, deciding exactly how much I should tell the bastard. "I need to find Mamoru Chiba."
"Never heard of him." I smiled. I had expected as much, you could go to jail just for knowing the bastard.
"Come on Motoki, you can do better than that." I crossed my legs allowing him the perfect view of my perfect tan.
"Um....I...uh..." he was blushing. Maybe being a woman did have its good points.
"I just need to find him, I'm not going to arrest him or anything." No, I'm not a cop. I'm not sure if my proffession has a name. My job is to find people and I get paid shit loads of money to do it to. I charge $500 a day plus exspenses. Meaning anything I eat or buy while on the job, my employer pays for. (I pay for my own gas)
"Sure, like I can belive that one." He rolled his eyes at me, and I laughed.
"So you do know where he is." He cursed, realizing his mistake, and shrugged.
"So what if I do?" I pulled out my gun again and pointed it at his head, and I'm not talking about the one on his neck.
"Talk." He shook his head.
"I won't." He smiled. "Plus you think I'm too cute to kill."
"Try me." I don't know if it was the gun or the fact that I carried a gun...hell, it could've been because of the deranged look I had in my eyes after days of no sleep and no coffee, but whatever it was, it worked.
He started talking.
Author: Stara and Nataku
Author Notes: A VERY short tidbit of a story idea we're tossing around. Should we continue and make it into something or should we just leave well enough alone? Your choice! ^_^ Let us know whatcha think. ^.~ It's basically one of Stara's old stories that we're redoing and putting a twist on. Knowing us, it'll just get weirder.
"Get off of me you son of a-"
"Now, now, that language isn't necessary."
"Isn't ncessary my ass!" I pushed him off of me and reached my arm out for my gun. A girl should never leave home without one.
"Come off it, Usagi, I'm just trying to help you."
"I'm sure." I flashed a smile his way, shoving the end of the pistol right between his eyes. "I'd say thank you, but helping me pull my shirt over my head isn't what I need right now."
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." He put his hands above his head, shaking like crazy. Gods what a baby! "Just don't shoot me." I put the gun in my pocket and sat down on the end of his bed, taking out a piece of gum and pretending to be absorbed in the act of chewing it. He moved over to a chair and sat down staring at me.
"Don't look at me like that." I glared at him. I couldn't say that he was the first though. My day job was a mechanic, so I was wearing a pair of jean shorts and a tee. Nothing to stare at, right? Wrong. God had cursed me with a perfect "brickwall" figure and had thrown in beach-blonde hair to boot. Lucky me. Men didn't bother to hide the fact that they would die at a chance to get me into a dark alley. Ugh. Sometimes being a woman really sucked.
"I can't help it." He smiled cheekily, a bold move for someone who had been shivering moments before. "I am a man, you know." Boy, did I know. With his playful blonde hair and piercing green eyes he could woe his way into any woman's bed. Oh, I can't forget the perfect body structure either, my hands were itching to run over that six pack. He would've liked nothing better, but I was here on business. And no, it wasn't mechanics crap either.
"I really couldn't tell with you screaming like a girl back there." He frowned.
"You think you're a real bad ass don't you?"
"Depends on what you're asking for."
"What ARE you asking for?"
"I'm looking for someone." I let that sink in as I weighed my words, deciding exactly how much I should tell the bastard. "I need to find Mamoru Chiba."
"Never heard of him." I smiled. I had expected as much, you could go to jail just for knowing the bastard.
"Come on Motoki, you can do better than that." I crossed my legs allowing him the perfect view of my perfect tan.
"Um....I...uh..." he was blushing. Maybe being a woman did have its good points.
"I just need to find him, I'm not going to arrest him or anything." No, I'm not a cop. I'm not sure if my proffession has a name. My job is to find people and I get paid shit loads of money to do it to. I charge $500 a day plus exspenses. Meaning anything I eat or buy while on the job, my employer pays for. (I pay for my own gas)
"Sure, like I can belive that one." He rolled his eyes at me, and I laughed.
"So you do know where he is." He cursed, realizing his mistake, and shrugged.
"So what if I do?" I pulled out my gun again and pointed it at his head, and I'm not talking about the one on his neck.
"Talk." He shook his head.
"I won't." He smiled. "Plus you think I'm too cute to kill."
"Try me." I don't know if it was the gun or the fact that I carried a gun...hell, it could've been because of the deranged look I had in my eyes after days of no sleep and no coffee, but whatever it was, it worked.
He started talking.
