"Okay," Dylan eyed Shaemus warily as he stowed the phone in his rear jeans pocket. "Now that you are done chatting, where exactly is my daughter?"
He looked at her momentarily, one of those looks he has with one eyebrow raised. "You're shittin' me… Like I'd tell you," he slammed her into a concrete wall and her eyes rolled back in pain. "When I know if you knew where she was, you'd go get her yourself." He pulled back his arm and let her wobble to the glass table, where she supported herself long enough to regulate her breathing.
Her eyes searched the paper on the table, old maps, computer paper, nothing she could use. In the whole room there was nothing. It was a small concrete room with peeling white wash walls, something you'd see anywhere. But this was supposedly Shaemus's office for the time being.
He, meanwhile, was leaned suavely against a wall, smacking a rolled up copy of the contract against his hand. In an impulsive movement that she could hardly control, Dylan launched herself across the table and finally landed in front Shaemus, slamming him against the wall with a well placed kick. She kept her foot there and kept him against the wall, breathing heavily all the while.
"Want this, do you?" he waved the contract in her face but she didn't dare reach for it.
"Wish you didn't sign it I bet. I wouldn't have signed it. Who WOULD sign their life away?"
She led her leg slide down until she was back on two feet. He stared her down, but she looked away, almost embarrassed. "Why did I sign it?" She pushed her hair away from her face and sat on top of the glass table.
Shaemus moved around the table so that he was sitting in front of her and put his hands on her knees.
"Well, you signed it. So too bad is all I can say. C'mon," he motioned for the door, "we have to go." But he didn't let her slide off the table, no. He picked her up by the waist and flung her over his shoulder, she was much lighter than most people would probably guess.
"Shaemus…" she said warningly.
"Come off it Helen, there's nothing you can do about it now. You just better hope you don't get killed…"
"Shaemus--"
He slapped her butt and carried her out the door and down the metal steps to the docking bay. Dylan, meanwhile, was not enjoying this loss to her pride. Shaemus stopped at her Camaro and popped open the trunk.
"You're not--"
"I am."
He roughly, yet still carefully in a way, flung her down into the trunk. With a hand on the top of it and ready to slam it shut, he paused to look at Dylan.
"Why do you have to lock me in my own trunk?"
"Because that's the way I do things, Helen, I thought you knew."
"Too true."
He would have shut the trunk already but remembered something, and Dylan was still sitting up, anyway. He sighed.
"Where are they?"
She blinked. "Where do you think?"
He stared at her face for a minute before his eyes fell lower. "You really haven't changed." He made a move for her but she promptly raised her foot in his face to block him. "Don't you dare. If you haven't figured it out, I don't really like you anymore."
"Well that's your problem, not mine," and he promptly retrieved her car keys from her favorite storage place, her bra.
"Son of bit--"
He put a hand to her mouth and pushed her into the trunk, throwing a headset in after her and slamming the door down, hard. He knew she wouldn't want to put it on, but curiosity would drive her to. He grabbed a headset himself and settled himself into her warm carseat. He opened his laptop on the passenger seat and started the program that would connect the two head phones via short distance radio.
"How you doing back there?"
"Bastard."
"I should have included verbal assault in the contract…"
Dylan was thrown against one side of the trunk as Shaemus drove out of one of the main ship's hull, leaving rubber tire marks on the ground behind just as she did.
"You included enough! Where are we going?"
"Airport," she heard him grunt before his merging onto the interstate sent her roughly against the side of the trunk again.
He looked at her momentarily, one of those looks he has with one eyebrow raised. "You're shittin' me… Like I'd tell you," he slammed her into a concrete wall and her eyes rolled back in pain. "When I know if you knew where she was, you'd go get her yourself." He pulled back his arm and let her wobble to the glass table, where she supported herself long enough to regulate her breathing.
Her eyes searched the paper on the table, old maps, computer paper, nothing she could use. In the whole room there was nothing. It was a small concrete room with peeling white wash walls, something you'd see anywhere. But this was supposedly Shaemus's office for the time being.
He, meanwhile, was leaned suavely against a wall, smacking a rolled up copy of the contract against his hand. In an impulsive movement that she could hardly control, Dylan launched herself across the table and finally landed in front Shaemus, slamming him against the wall with a well placed kick. She kept her foot there and kept him against the wall, breathing heavily all the while.
"Want this, do you?" he waved the contract in her face but she didn't dare reach for it.
"Wish you didn't sign it I bet. I wouldn't have signed it. Who WOULD sign their life away?"
She led her leg slide down until she was back on two feet. He stared her down, but she looked away, almost embarrassed. "Why did I sign it?" She pushed her hair away from her face and sat on top of the glass table.
Shaemus moved around the table so that he was sitting in front of her and put his hands on her knees.
"Well, you signed it. So too bad is all I can say. C'mon," he motioned for the door, "we have to go." But he didn't let her slide off the table, no. He picked her up by the waist and flung her over his shoulder, she was much lighter than most people would probably guess.
"Shaemus…" she said warningly.
"Come off it Helen, there's nothing you can do about it now. You just better hope you don't get killed…"
"Shaemus--"
He slapped her butt and carried her out the door and down the metal steps to the docking bay. Dylan, meanwhile, was not enjoying this loss to her pride. Shaemus stopped at her Camaro and popped open the trunk.
"You're not--"
"I am."
He roughly, yet still carefully in a way, flung her down into the trunk. With a hand on the top of it and ready to slam it shut, he paused to look at Dylan.
"Why do you have to lock me in my own trunk?"
"Because that's the way I do things, Helen, I thought you knew."
"Too true."
He would have shut the trunk already but remembered something, and Dylan was still sitting up, anyway. He sighed.
"Where are they?"
She blinked. "Where do you think?"
He stared at her face for a minute before his eyes fell lower. "You really haven't changed." He made a move for her but she promptly raised her foot in his face to block him. "Don't you dare. If you haven't figured it out, I don't really like you anymore."
"Well that's your problem, not mine," and he promptly retrieved her car keys from her favorite storage place, her bra.
"Son of bit--"
He put a hand to her mouth and pushed her into the trunk, throwing a headset in after her and slamming the door down, hard. He knew she wouldn't want to put it on, but curiosity would drive her to. He grabbed a headset himself and settled himself into her warm carseat. He opened his laptop on the passenger seat and started the program that would connect the two head phones via short distance radio.
"How you doing back there?"
"Bastard."
"I should have included verbal assault in the contract…"
Dylan was thrown against one side of the trunk as Shaemus drove out of one of the main ship's hull, leaving rubber tire marks on the ground behind just as she did.
"You included enough! Where are we going?"
"Airport," she heard him grunt before his merging onto the interstate sent her roughly against the side of the trunk again.
