(A/N: First of all, I'd just like to once again say thank you to all my reviewers, for taking the time to tell me what they think of this story. Secondly, it seems that I've suddenly hit a creative spurt, and have been able to update Changes with an unusual frequency. Frankly, I have no idea how long this streak will last, though I hope that it will get me a good portion before the inevitable combination of an increasing workload and writer's block slows me down again.)
"Hi guys!" Charity yelled spiritedly (for her) as her cousins descended the stairway for breakfast. Charity was already positioned at the table, flanked by Miguel on one side and John on the other. Their father also sat at the table in uniform, as their mother busied herself making bacon and eggs for her brood.
The two said hello in return and took their seats as they awaited the meal. Charity and Miguel soon began cooing at each other, and John realized he had a major dilemma, as he told Grace. Apparently, he just couldn't decide which was more delicious: tomato soup cake or eggplant brownies, and this indecision was now causing him no end of confusion and anxiety. "Well, I guess you'll just have to have a helping of both next time," Grace smiled indulgently. "Charity, would you like it if I fixed both?"
"Oh yes, Aunt Grace!" Charity enthused. "That is, if it wouldn't be too much trouble for you."
"Feeding my wonderful family is never trouble!"
Laura and Jessica rolled their eyes, both at the insipid nature of the conversation and because they had once again not been asked what they thought. Ever since her confession to Laura, Jessica had begun to be more honest to herself about how she felt, and found that it was really quite liberating. Sam also looked as if he was trying to hide his annoyance; although he had automatically defended his wife at the party when Ivy had mentioned Kay's anger, the more he thought about it, the more sense it had all made. Could Kay's resentful refusal to see anyone from her old family actually stem from a possibly justified belief that his wife had put her niece and newfound son first? Sam didn't want to believe such a thing about his wife, but with the way he noticed she'd been fawning over John and Charity the past couple of days, he was beginning to have his doubts. He put them at the back of his mind, though, when Grace served the meal.
After they were all done eating, Miguel and Charity, grinning more broadly than ever, stood up excitedly. "Before we all leave," Charity began, gazing adoringly at her true love, "Miguel and I have an announcement to make."
"Right," Miguel continued ecstatically, his eyes never leaving Charity's face, "after giving the matter a lot of thought and consideration, Charity and I have decided to become officially engaged. We're getting married!"
"OH MY GOD!" Jessica squealed as she jumped up to hug Charity. John smiled and shook Miguel's hand, as Sam congratulated the couple, although he looked a little reluctant, as if he didn't think that the two of them were making the best decision. Grace, on the other hand, gave her undivided, wholehearted approval.
Gushing, she took Charity's hand. "I'm so happy for you, Charity. The two of you have such a miraculous love, and I just know you'll have a wonderful life together. Oh, I can't wait to help plan this wedding!"
"Thank you, Aunt Grace, I would never be able to do this without you," Charity replied sweetly.
Up until this point, Laura hadn't said anything. "Congratulations, you two," she began hesitantly, "but you are talking about in a few years, right, and you're just making it clear that you have an understanding to get married."
"Of course not!" Charity exclaimed.
Still beaming, Miguel shook his head at Laura. "Nope, we're not waiting. In fact, we're hoping to be married well before the end of the summer."
Laura just couldn't believe that nobody else was saying anything about this. "But, you're both only eighteen, like me. That's much too young to get married!"
"Not when you really love each other," Charity replied, unphased. "Besides, we've really thought this through, and we know what we're doing?"
"Okay, then, where are you going to live? How are you going to support yourselves?"
"We're going to college," Miguel explained placidly. "And we'll live in a married dorm. After we graduate, I'll get a job and we'll buy a house."
"Do you have any idea what either of you are going to school for?" Laura countered. "Besides, I don't even think that most colleges have married dorms for first-years. Are either of you even enrolled anywhere, because I've never heard you mention anything about it before. And, wait a second, Charity, weren't you missing or something your entire second semester of senior year?"
Charity shifted uncomfortably, as if recalling a painful memory. "Yes, but nobody knew it at the time, because I had been frozen in a block of ice and an evil zombie who looked just like me had taken my place and had acted really mean to everybody."
"Um…okay." Laura didn't have anything else to say, deciding that pressing that particular matter would yield no result other than giving her a nasty headache. "Alright, you were impersonated by an evil zombie, but do you mean to tell me that an evil zombie would actually bother to go to class and do the work? Personally, I can't even see how you're out of high school, much less able to get married and attend college."
Glaring at her newfound daughter with a look Laura could only describe as protective anger, Grace made some excuse about wanting to show Laura how to cook some dish, and practically dragged the girl away from the others. "What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, overly, and unreasonably, defensive.
"What do you mean?" Laura asked, sincerely confused.
"You were trying to convince Charity and Miguel not to get married."
Laura gawked at her mother, having a hard time believing the direction the conversation was beginning to take. "Oh, that? I just thought that they're too young, and could screw up their entire lives."
Grace shook her head adamantly. "Theirs is a true love, Laura. Charity and Miguel are meant to be together forever, and I just don't think anybody should try to break them up."
"Why would I want to break them up?" Laura asked, trying very hard not to lose her temper.
"I'm not really sure, unless…" Grace's voice broke off, and she looked at Laura with an unmistakable suspicion in her eyes. "Unless you want Miguel for yourself."
Laura couldn't help it; she laughed right in Grace's face. "Me? Want Miguel? Yeah, right!"
Grace was not convinced. "I don't know; it would explain your attitude just now."
"Attitude? All I was saying was that they shouldn't get married, not that they should break up or anything!"
Grace hoped that Laura was telling the truth, but nevertheless worried that her daughter would prove to be yet another threat to her niece's happiness. "I want to believe you, but you'd better leave Miguel alone. He should be with Charity. Just so you know, Laura, I'll be keeping an eye on you."
Laura nearly screamed in sheer frustration. "Look, for the last time, I'm not plotting against your darling Charity, and I don't want Miguel for myself! To be brutally honest, I think he's dense and boring. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll just go up to my room now and read for awhile. If you're looking for me later today and can't find me, don't worry. I'm not off concocting a diabolical scheme; I'll just be having lunch at the Book Café with Ethan." Without another word, Laura stormed out of the kitchen.
Noticing her absence, Charity thoughtfully asked, "What's wrong with Laura, Aunt Grace? She seemed really upset just now."
"Oh, she just remembered something that she had to do," Grace lied.
This explanation apparently satisfied all of the kids except Jessica, who quickly excused herself to go and find out what was really going on while the others continued chatting. Eventually, all of the kids left, and only Sam and Grace were left in the kitchen.
"Sam, you'd better get going; you'll be late for work."
Sam shrugged. "I'll get there in time. Right now we need to have a talk."
"About what? The wedding plans? Because I just had the best idea for—"
"No, not the wedding plans. I listened to your conversation with Laura, or more accurately, your interrogation of her."
Grace stiffened up defensively. "I didn't like the way she was speaking to Charity and Miguel, and I just don't want her doing anything to destroy their love."
"The points she made were valid, and I'm not sure that she was wrong. She had no idea what you were talking about, Grace!"
"So she says," Grace answered simply.
"What is this? Why do you insist on assuming the worst of this girl, who happens to be OUR DAUGHTER?!"
"You know how many troubles Miguel and Charity have been through. Evil has tried to break them apart so many times, and I won't let it succeed when they're so close to the happiness that they both deserve."
"Oh, so our daughter is evil now? Gee, that's funny, because apart from being a little distant, which is perfectly understandable, I haven't noticed anything wrong with her. Come on, Grace, she was just starting to open up to us. Haven't you noticed how she's been getting close to Jessica? And she's talked to me a little and tried cooking with you yesterday. Now is not the time to push her away with ridiculous accusations."
"I just don't happen to think that they're so ridiculous," Grace countered. "And, don't you think it's at least possible that there's something off about her? After all, Charity and John never had any trouble blending right in with the family."
"Maybe that's because Laura's just a lot more, oh I don't know, NORMAL, than those two."
Exerting a great deal of self-control, Grace did not slap Sam as hard as she could across the face. "You will not say anything against John and Charity," she ordered, her voice suddenly reaching a creepily commanding tone.
Sam held his ground, more than a little shocked by his wife's behavior. "Why won't you give our daughter the benefit of the doubt? There's no reason to suspect her of anything, and don't you want her to eventually want to be close to us? We've lost Kay, it looks like for good, and I don't want the same thing to happen with Laura. I've been trying to give her space and let her come around at her own pace, and I thought you were doing the same thing, but now I'm starting to think that you're really just more interested in those two."
At his words, Grace laughed harshly and threw her hands up in the air. "That's what this is really about, isn't it? You can't stand the fact that I care about them because Charity's MY niece and John's my son with David, so neither of them is related to you!"
Sam stared blankly at Grace, amazed that she would accuse him of something that petty. "No, of course not! I want you to have a relationship with them; I just don't want it to be at Laura's expense."
"Well, I don't want it to be that way, either, but let's be honest: we hardly know her, and when you take into account the way she was raised…"
Sam's jaw dropped as it dawned on him what this was really all about. "How she was raised? That's it, isn't it? You won't admit it even to yourself, but it just bugs the hell out of you that she was raised as Ivy's daughter, after all Ivy's done to break us up. On some level, you're seeing our daughter as some little Ivy out to plot against Charity!"
"Of course not!" Grace denied vehemently. "That doesn't enter into it at all!"
"Yes, I think it does. And it also explains why, after our initial attempts, you gave up on Kay and concentrated even more on Charity."
"I gave up on Kay because she made it very clear that didn't want us around, and because she has a mother. And speaking of her mother, I think this all just goes to prove that you still haven't gotten over Ivy."
"Think whatever you want," Sam replied, his voice low and serious, "but Ivy has nothing to do with this for me, at least. I just want what's best for our children, and I truly hope that you do too. "If not, well, I guess we've got a pretty irreconcilable difference. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go to work now."
Once Sam was gone, Grace stood alone in the kitchen, fuming. How dare Sam accuse her of taking sides against one of their children? She did care about Laura, but if the girl had learned to be a schemer based on her upbringing and was trying to come between Charity and Miguel, then Grace just couldn't let her go and hurt Charity, who was so good and sweet and had suffered so much already. Now, everything was a mess, and so Grace decided that she needed to take her mind for it, so she left to find Charity so that they could begin discussing wedding plans.
*****
Rebecca was by this time very agitated. Her daughter had now been missing a fairly long time without a word, and she could no longer comfort herself by saying that she had just gone off for a break. To top it off, she knew that Sheridan, Luis, Hank, and Antonio were also nowhere to be found. Rebecca of course knew that her Gwen would have nothing to do with those three guys, but the absence of Sheridan made her greatly suspect that Gwen's disappearance was somehow connected.
The police of course had already been notified about the mass disappearance, and it seemed that there was nothing she could do. Rebecca loathed just sitting around helplessly while her Gwennie could be in trouble. Rebecca may have had many, many faults, but one thing that could always be said for her was that she cared fiercely about the welfare of her two children.
Apart from Rebecca's fear for her daughter's safety, this absence left the would-be Crane wife with nobody to talk to, to confide her latest schemes to. True, Gwen had been an oftentimes unwilling confidante, but a schemer always needs somebody to brag about her plans to. And now, with her missing, Julian there to be manipulated through sex, and her son, having just graduated from college and currently spending time at the old Hotchkiss manor in England, not due back home for another few months, Rebecca decided to go and seek out Ivy.
She found her "friend" easily enough in her room, reading some magazine or other. Prancing right in, the redhead took a seat across from her
"What do you want, Rebecca?" Ivy asked without looking up. "Run out of costumes, have you? Well, if you've decided to dress up as a person with some taste for a change, and have come to raid my wardrobe, I'm afraid that you probably wouldn't fit."
"I should say not," Rebecca replied, not missing a beat. "The chest size would be much too small for me. No, I've come to talk about Theresa."
Ivy sat straight up and tossed aside her magazine. She had been expecting this follow-up conversation since the party, and knew that she would have to be in top form to handle it. "What about Theresa, Rebecca?"
"You already know exactly what I'm going to say. I want to get rid of her, and I would like your help."
"For the last time, no!" Ivy shouted. "I don't want a part of this."
"You've got one!" Rebecca laughed threateningly. What was wrong with Ivy?! Rebecca privately wondered why she'd been acting so strange lately, but for now focused her attention on the argument at hand. "Think, Ivy, you were a part of my last plan to kill Theresa. Whether or not you help me now, if I get caught, I'll tell them all about your involvement, so you might as well protect yourself by participating."
Ivy winced a little; nevertheless, she'd expected this line, and could handle it. "Think, Rebecca! The opportunity for killing Theresa has passed. Before, we could get her to do herself in, but this would involve a direct assassination, and with a brother on the police force and her a family friend of the police chief, it's not exactly the safest solution."
Rebecca had to admit that Ivy had a point, but refused to give up so easily. "We'll just have to make sure it's untraceable, then."
"Okay, then, maybe we could do it. What if she doesn't actually die? She sure as hell didn't last time! She's already gunning for us. If she survives another attempt on her life, we're as good as dead."
Rebecca huffed, unwilling to admit that Ivy made some sense. "Are you just saying we should let her go? Because, mark my words, I will be Mrs. Crane."
"No, of course not. What I've been trying to say is that you should find some way to discredit her, to make her lose all of her power." Ivy felt a stab of guilt for speaking thus. She may not like Theresa, but she hated plotting maliciously even more. Oh well, she told herself, I AM saving her life here. I had to convince Rebecca to not want her dead, and this was the only good excuse I could come up with..
Rebecca considered Ivy's argument for a long moment. Finally, she spoke. "As much as I hate to admit it, I guess you do have a point. You win; I will not have Theresa killed—for now, anyway."
*****
Kay sat alone in her room, exhausted both physically and mentally, having just returned from her second tutorial session with Cassandra. Even though her training had just begun, she had already learned a great deal, and could literally feel her power growing steadily. In addition to the heightened senses, her speed and agility had also increased somewhat, though she'd need extensive practice in order to really utilize them. Her Standish magic, she discovered, gave her the power to perform a great deal of standard magic without a spell, like the witches on Bewitched. This ability was still extremely weak, but would grow tremendously the more she used it. She'd also been taught many Nosferitia incantations, and found that calling on this power gave her a feeling of heady satisfaction bordering on euphoria that the others did not.
It was while she was going over the spells in her head that she was interrupted by an unexpected visitor. Tabitha's weird "nephew" Timmy darted into her room, breathing heavily. "What the hell are you doing here?" Kay demanded irritably, not in the mood for some ridiculous interruption.
"Timmy's got something really important for you. He knows you're not having any luck finding a spell to change your mother back to herself."
"How do you know I can't find anything?" Kay narrowed her eyes at him in a threatening manner.
"Timmy doesn't have time for this. He can't stay here long, and he has something hear that Kay wants."
"And just what does Timmy have that Kay wants?" Kay sneered mockingly.
Ignoring her rudeness, Timmy handed her the paper and explained. "Timmy found the right spell and thought that he should give it to you."
Gasping, Kay grabbed the paper and read through the spell. It certainly looked like the real thing, alright. However, she had thought that the spell that got them into trouble in the first place would do something entirely different than what it actually accomplished. "You're sure that this is the real deal?"
Timmy's little head bobbed up and down vigorously. "Timmy's one hundred percent certain."
"And how can I be sure that I can trust you?"
"Timmy gives his word. If you can't believe that, there's nothing else that Timmy can do. Now, Timmy needs to get back home as soon as he can." As soon as he had come in, Timmy was gone, leaving Kay to decide what to do.
On one hand, it seemed as if she was holding in her hands the solution to the whole fiasco. On the other, if this spell was a fake, it could cause even more harm than the last one. Although Kay couldn't completely discount the possibility, she couldn't help believing that Timmy was a trustworthy, honest little guy who wouldn't play her false. She noticed, looking over the ingredients, that she should be able to perform the spell tomorrow if she would decide to do so. After debating with herself for awhile, Kay decided that the best course of action was simply to tell her mother the truth, that she thought that she had the spell but wasn't quite sure, and clearly explain the risks, and let her decide what to do about it.
*****
Laura greeted her half-brother with a hug when they met up right in front of the Book Café.
"Hi to you, too, Laura," Ethan laughed as he held the door to the establishment open for her. "I must say, you never acted like this when you were a Crane. I always got the impression that you didn't like me."
"Of course I didn't," Laura replied, taking a seat at the nearest empty table. Her words were cutting, but her tone of voice was matter-of-fact, and not bitter. "It would've taken a saint to not hate you back then, and, although I'm not the troublemaker some people evidently now think I am, I am certainly no saint."
"Oh, I'm sorry." Ethan understood some of what his sister was saying, of course. Even he couldn't help noticing that he had been their mother's favorite, and had always felt a little guilty about it. He had no idea what she was meant by somebody thinking she was a troublemaker, but didn't ask further, because he knew Laura well enough to know that she would explain if and when she felt like it, and not a moment sooner."
"Don't be sorry, Ethan. It wasn't your fault, and I don't blame you. You're a good guy, I have to say. I don't know how I would've gotten through this if you hadn't kept checking up on me."
At that moment, Beth showed up to hand them waters and take orders. Everyone in town seemed to think highly of this woman, as someone unfailingly nice, dependable, and together, a real "good head on her shoulders, feet planted firmly on the ground" type. There was something about her that gave Laura the creeps, though. Maybe it was her eyes, with that slightly wild and unhinged glint forever visible in them. Anyway, as soon as she left, Ethan continued from where they had left off.
"I was happy to do it. I know what it feels like, to suddenly lose the identity you'd had your entire life, and I didn't want you to go through it alone. Speaking of which, how are things at home? Any better?"
Laura couldn't help smiling at her brother's earnest concern. She truly couldn't believe how recently she had detested him, either; true, he is undeniably a doofus, but all things considered, a truly nice guy. "I thought they were going pretty well. I was getting used to living there, talking more, even "bonding," I guess you could say, with Jess. Now, though, my mother suddenly has gotten it into her head that I'm 'out to destroy Miguel and Charity's love.'"
Ethan nearly choked on his drink. "You're joking!" he finally managed to spit out in between guffaws. "Why?"
"She thinks I'm in love with him or something, and before you say anything, no, I'm not. I don't even care whether or not they get married, I just thought it was incredible that nobody was saying anything about how they are not ready to get married, and now she's convinced that I'm conniving against them."
Ethan sighed. "They're really getting married? You're probably right about that. But, I can't believe that Mrs. Bennett would treat you that way! She always seems so nice and friendly and welcoming."
Playing idly with her napkin, Laura shrugged resignedly. "She is, unless she thinks you might possibly wind up a threat to Charity, and then you're the devil incarnate, which by the way, in this town seems to be an actual possibility."
"What do you mean?"
"You know, the whole freak show that Harmony is, and which our family seems to be the stars of! You should know, I heard you almost got sucked into hell though a closet in the old Bennett house."
"Oh, that," Ethan replied. "Yeah, some weird stuff does go on around here all right, but you get used to it after awhile."
"You're probably right." Laura laughed a little. "I barely blink anymore when everybody goes on about zombies and demons and psychic visions. It's certainly not as upsetting as being singled out as a troublemaker when you haven't done anything."
"I'm sorry about that," Ethan sincerely opined. "Would you like me to talk to her, say that I know you, and you wouldn't do something like that?"
Laura grinned. "Thanks, Ethan, I kind of like being able to depend on you. As strange as my mother can be, I'd like to have some sort of a relationship with my mother. I mean, I'll never have that with your mother now."
Ethan shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable. "I know you don't want to talk about this, Laura, but maybe you should give her another chance to make things right. I realize she must've done something lately that really upset you, but she there's been something strange about her the past couple of weeks, like she's not really herself right now."
Sighing, Laura knew that she couldn't explain how Ivy was to Ethan; he wouldn't understand, and even if she could make him, it would disillusion him totally, and she didn't want to do that to him. "You're right, Ethan, I don't want to talk about it. That's all over. Anyway, enough about me, that's all we've been talking about. How have you been doing yourself?"
Ethan's face fell, and she could instantly tell, and she could instantly tell just how miserable her brother had been. "I'm…better, I guess. It's just that I miss her so much."
Laura took his hand sympathetically. "I'm wish it all would've worked out with Theresa. I don't really know her or anything, but I know how much you loved her."
"I still do," he confessed, "and we'd be married now, if it wasn't for Julian and Alistair forcing her to stay a Crane."
"Bastards," Laura said sharply.
Ethan looked at her in shock. "Laura! You don't usually talk like that!"
"Well, they are, and I've always believed in calling things by their right names. They do this to her, they tried to keep Au—er Sheridan apart from that Luis guy, and they throw both of us out of he family without anything the second they, and we, find out we don't have any Crane blood. I'm even lucky; they've just lost total interest in me, but you they've blackballed, and kept you unemployed. I wouldn't take anything from them now even if they begged me to."
"Me neither," Ethan agreed. Presently, Beth returned with their orders and they continued on with their conversation, Laura enjoying the sympathetic ear to complain to and to commiserate with.
*****
That night found Hank and Gwen once more skulking about the docks, though this time their vigil was proving to be a good deal more fruitful. They had noticed that in one boat near the left end of the harbor fairly shady-looking people seemed to come and go frequently, sometimes carrying large bundles, though the boat itself never moved.
Little by little, the duo moved closer, looking desperately for anything definitive. When they were about thirty paces from the boat, Gwen suddenly motioned Gwen to stop moving. He pointed at three guys standing around and talking near the end of the dock, about ten paces from the boat. "See that guy on the right, the one who doesn't look too happy to be there?" he whispered urgently.
Gwen squinted in the direction of Hank's outstretched finger. "My God, it's Antonio!"
"Yep," Hank replied with a grim satisfaction. "I think we've hit the jackpot."
After conversing together for a few moments, the three turned around and got onto the boat, after which they disappeared into the cabin area. "I'd bet anything that this is the very boat they're using for the smuggling, and they've got it set up for their headquarters right now," Gwen mused.
Hank agreed, and suggested that they move closer to get a better view. Trying hard not to make a sound, they inched closer and closer to the boat, until they stood at the very end of the dock. Deciding to take a big risk, they then climbed aboard as silently as they could, and hiding under the seats, they found that they could make out snatches of the exchange going on below.
"Last of the cargo will arrive in two weeks…"
"Should really try and set out that very night…"
"Weapons smuggling?! Hey, I never signed up for…"
"…Never signed up for anything, O'Leary, now shut up and do as you're…"
"Our employer should be pleased…paying a great deal to see this done…once they get the shipment, the guerrillas will be instrumental for…"
"Don't care what any of this is being used for, just as long as…"
"Don't worry, you'll get paid, and very well, too. Now, let's all loosen up. Marks, Jerry, why don't you two go up onto the deck and bring back some scotch…"
As soon as they heard the footsteps ascending the ladder, a panicked Hank and Gwen darted out of their hiding place and practically jumped off the boat onto the platform below as fast as their legs would allow them to. Unfortunately for them, Marks saw them running away from the boat. "Hey, boss," he yelled, "looks like we had a couple of spies just now!"
"Don't just stand there like an idiot! Get rid of them!"
Off of their boss's command, Marks and Jerry jumped off the boat and followed our heroes in hot pursuit, each firing a couple of shots at the departing duo, one of which actually shot a hole near the top of Gwen's wide-brimmed hat.
Hank and Gwen ran as they had never run before, through the waterfront section, ignoring all the passersby giving them odd looks, desperate to put some space in between them and their pursuers. To their great good luck, Marks and Jerry did indeed have a hard time following them through the crowd, eventually losing sight of exactly where they were going.
Reaching an area where the crowd had thinned into almost nothing, the couple darted into an abandoned building and hid in the shadows, hoping that their assailants would be unable to follow them.
Their prayers were granted, because they heard the two thugs outside, poking around without much hope of success. Finally, it seems, they gave up. "Great, we've lost 'em," one complained to his cohort. "Nick's gonna kill us."
"No, he's not," the other replied, keeping his cool. "We'll just tell him that we bagged 'em, and he don't haveta know. They're probably not a threat anyway; I'd bet anything they were just nosing around out of curiosity, and'll stay away now."
"They'd better, if they don't wanna get blown away," the first one laughed, and their voices got farther and farther away until they faded completely as they set off in the direction of the harbor to report their "success" to Nick.
Gwen and Hank let out a collective sigh of relief when they realized that the danger had passed and they were safe for the time being. Still shaking violently, Gwen took off her hat and examined it, wriggling her finger through the bullet hole incredulously. Stunned by her extremely close call, she turned to Hank. "Oh my God. Oh my God, we could've gotten killed back there!"
"But we didn't," Hank, who had also been affected by their severe close call, replied, trying in vain to reassure her.
"Well, there's plenty of time yet," Gwen spat back, feeling a surge of panic coming on. "These guys are playing for real, and we haven't even got anything resembling a plan, and there's just the four of us, and whatever plan we do eventually come up with I'm sure will be incredibly dangerous, and I know I'm babbling but I just have no idea what I'm going to do!"
Gwen probably would've kept right on ranting if Hank, caught up in the adrenaline that the chase had left him with, hadn't thrown aside all reservations and gathered Gwen into a long, passionate embrace. In a normal situation, Gwen would have pushed him aside immediately and then proceed to verbally berate him for being so presumptuous as to think he could touch her. Instead, Gwen responded wholeheartedly, her lips hungrily searching for his, each one heavily pawing the other.
After a few minutes, however, it became necessary to break apart in order to catch their breaths. As soon as they were able to, Gwen was the first who chose to speak. Looking up at Hank, she found herself unable to respond as she had meant to. "That was, uh, I don't know what. Crazy, I guess. I should be telling you that it was a one-time mistake, and not to expect anything else, but somehow, I just can't say it."
Gratified, Hank smiled broadly, and moved in to kiss her again, but Gwen stopped him. "We've still got a major problem here. I don't see how we're going to get out of this alive!"
"You're probably right," Hank admitted, unable to lie to her. "By the end of all of this, one or both of us is probably going to be dead."
"Then, what can we do?"
To his own amazement, an idea suddenly entered Hank's mind that, try as he might, he couldn't put to rest. Finally, he gave up and just decided to say it. Smilling suggestively, he began. "Well, I can think of one idea. It won't raise our chances of survival any, but at least it will make the end more interesting…" He then lowered his head and whispered something into her ear.
Astounded, Gwen stared up at Hank in utter shock. "You want to…NOW?! That's the most insane thing I've heard yet!"
"That's not exactly an answer, Gwen. What do you say?"
She was about to tell him where he could stuff this offer of his, when something seemed to come over her. Suddenly, she changed her mind and responded, "Sure, let's do it."
Hank couldn't quite believe what he had just heard. "Really? You really want to?"
Gwen nodded, absolutely confident and surprisingly together at the moment.
Now Hank's grin reached from ear to ear. "Alright! When do you want to?"
Gwen's reply to his question was a quick, "There's no time like the present."
"You're sure about this. As in, right now, this minute?"
"Oh, why the hell not?" Gwen found herself, to her own surprise, actually laughing. "We're probably going to die anyway!"
Everything necessary to be said between them already having been said, Gwen and Hank ran off, both knowing they were most likely committing an act of pure insanity, but neither really caring at the present moment.