Passing through before breakfast Anne rolled her eyes when she saw this
week's patrol assignments, posted in the training room.
She turned to her friend and fellow recruit Tasha, a kind of short girl with brown hair pulled back in a braid. "Great, I'm with James again all week. He never shuts up." She rolled her eyes thinking of the greasy blabbermouth. You'd think he'd run out of things to say after an hour or two but no...
Casey giggled. "He does like the sound of his own voice, doesn't he? But look at it this way; at least you didn't get the death magnet." She pointed to her own name, which was listed with one Vincent Greer.
"Oh my god, Case, I am so sorry," Anne gave her a sympathetic look.
"Well, you can have my clothes when I'm gone," she shrugged.
"Casey like, don't talk that way! You're not going to die just because you've got one patrol with that freak."
"Oh no? Tell that to Tom and Sean," Casey said flatly. "I don't think the guy is even human. And not just because he seems a little too good with a gun. Have you seen that stare of his? It's like ice." She shivered. "Anne, I don't think it's an accident that all his partners die either. I think he kills them."
"Casey! That's horrible!" Tasha replied shrilly.
"I think it's true. So did Sean. He tried to get Smith to change his assignment, but he said no," Casey's voice had dropped to nearly a whisper. "Sean died, but the ice prince didn't have a scratch on him."
Tasha shivered too. "What do you think he is?"
"An agent? rebel maybe? Or maybe he's some kind of experiment gone wrong. Some kind of monster."
Anne rolled her eyes. "Like, you two are a couple of babies. Casey, do you want to trade patrols with me?"
They stared at her blankly.
"Uh... I guess so...sure," Casey said. "Are you sure?"
Anne crossed her arms and nodded. "And. I'll even prove to you once and for all that he's human."
"How?"
She blithely inspected her rose-painted fingernails. "The same way I prove any man human. I'll have him eating out of the palm of my hand by the end of the week."
"Uh-uh!" Casey objected. "Annie it's too dangerous."
"And anyway," Tasha added suspiciously, "how would you prove it. Even if he will sleep with you, I doubt he'll go around talking about it."
"Tch, fine. What do I need to prove it to you?"
Casey thought for a moment. "A lock of his hair. He won't let anybody touch it. If you think you can really get him to succumb to your charms, then you can get it from him willingly."
"How do you know I won't just cut it from him in the hall sometime or something?"
They goggled at her.
"Duh, Anne. Because he'd kill you."
Greer was doing one-handed pushups in an out of the way corner of the training room. At this point he wondered what time it was, and whether or not he was actually hungry. There were other recruits training now, trying their very best to ignore him, so it must be after breakfast time.
The recruit studied the ground intently. Sometimes the fact that the other recruits feared him vaguely amused him; other times gave him a thrill of satisfaction. Today it just pissed him off. Who were they to pass judgment on him? It wasn't his fault all his partners ended up dead. They were just stupid. If they'd get their heads out of their asses maybe they'd be able to see the bullets before they ripped through their tender flash.
A pair of pink Nike sneakers appeared in his field of view, and Greer stopped mid pushup to see who they belonged to. His gaze traveled up a pair of shapely and tanned female legs, to a pair of pink shorts and a white tank top that didn't cover a navel, up to the shoulders, neck and finally face of the golden haired harlot of the agency, Anne.
"Yes?" he snapped, wondering what in the hell she could want. He stood up, towering head and shoulders over the girl. His body was drenched in sweat and his shirt and sweatpants clung to him, as did the moist bits of hair that fell over his face.
"You looked like you'd been working out for a while. I thought you might appreciate a glass of water, at least." she held one out to him.
"Thanks, I've already got one," he said blandly requiring his own and taking a sip. He didn't know what sort of game she was playing but he certainly didn't trust it not to be the 'let's poison/drug Greer' game.
She shifted defensively, and the water disappeared from her hand, and eyed him as he drank his water coolly.
"How long have you been out here?" she asked.
"A while," he said, draining the glass. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasantry?" he asked, jumping to the chase.
He expected her to hesitate, but the reply rolled off her tongue smoothly. "oh you know, just saying hi. We're on patrol duty together for the week." She smiled brightly, as though there were little else in the world that she'd rather do than patrol with Vincent Greer.
"Ah," he nodded. That explained it. "I see. Have you got your affairs in order?"
"What?" she blinked fiercely.
"You know, your will, your estate. In case you die," he said nonchalantly.
"Like, I repeat, what?"
He was baiting her, but hey, it was fun.
"Well we are recruits you know. And the rebels aren't exactly toting water- pistols," he smiled.
They stood there in silence for a moment, staring each other down.
"Is this about that silly curse thing of yours?"
"I'm not sure," he said, feigning concern. "Why don't you tell me about it."
"Duh, you know what I'm talking about. You've got practically every recruit here thinking if they get paired with you, they're dead."
"And you don't believe it?"
"No."
Greer quirked an eyebrow. "What if I told you it was a gypsy curse?"
"Yeah, right."
"A gypsy curse laid on me a hundred years ago. One moment of true happiness and I'm cursed." Okay, now he was just being funny. She wouldn't get the joke but it was funny anyway.
Anne rolled her eyes at him. "Now I know why no one will give you the time of day. You're an asshole."
"Look, it does have a brain!" he exclaimed with a grin.
Suddenly Anne went to kick him; a well executed roundhouse that would have caught Greer completely off guard, except that he'd noticed the change in her posture probably before she'd consciously decided to kick him. He grabbed her ankle in the air, and held her tenuously balanced, as she glared at him.
"I don't appreciate that," he told her, waving a finger at her as if to say 'naught, naughty'.
"Jerk," she wrenched her foot away, completely ruining her balance, but managed to catch herself in a frog stance instead of tumbling to the floor. She stood and dusted herself off.
"Are you going to attack me again?"
"Are you going to insult me again?" she demanded.
"What about insulting me?"
"Well if you weren't such a wiseass!"
"So sue me," he shrugged. "Look, what the hell did you want anyway?"
"I told you, to introduce myself, since we were going to patrol together."
"Fine, you know me, I know you. Now go away."
She didn't move. Greer stared at her, her high cheek bones, rouged, her pouting lips, painted, and her eyelids sparkling.
"You want to spar?" she asked.
Greer was slightly taken aback. "And here I thought you were just some kind of club mascot. Won't I ruin your makeup, precious?"
She required a rubber band and pulled her blonde hair back tightly. "Not even if you tried." She stood ready.
Greer came at her. He attacked slowly at first, getting a feel for her skill, and for her technique. She wasn't bad. A bit heavy on the kicks, but that was just because she was a female, he supposed.
She got one good hit in though. He was about to block when a snippet of a conversation cut into his mind.
/I'd really rather see Secret Window, you know-/
Anne's fist landed solidly in his gut, but he managed to absorb the blow relatively well, and shove his power back where it belonged. He could feel though, that his range was wider than ever.
They traded blows for a few minutes until Greer picked up his pace and Anne was sweating, the scent of in mingling with that of her perfume. As Anne got more and more tired it became easier for Greer to deflect her blows, and harder for him to resist delivering the last punch. He finally gave in after a particularly ill-timed kick, and once again grabbed her by the ankle, but this time swept her to the floor before she could do anything.
She landed on the mat with a dull thud.
Greer looked down at her. "Not too bad I suppose. You might survive the curse after all."
He swung around sharply and stalked away.
She turned to her friend and fellow recruit Tasha, a kind of short girl with brown hair pulled back in a braid. "Great, I'm with James again all week. He never shuts up." She rolled her eyes thinking of the greasy blabbermouth. You'd think he'd run out of things to say after an hour or two but no...
Casey giggled. "He does like the sound of his own voice, doesn't he? But look at it this way; at least you didn't get the death magnet." She pointed to her own name, which was listed with one Vincent Greer.
"Oh my god, Case, I am so sorry," Anne gave her a sympathetic look.
"Well, you can have my clothes when I'm gone," she shrugged.
"Casey like, don't talk that way! You're not going to die just because you've got one patrol with that freak."
"Oh no? Tell that to Tom and Sean," Casey said flatly. "I don't think the guy is even human. And not just because he seems a little too good with a gun. Have you seen that stare of his? It's like ice." She shivered. "Anne, I don't think it's an accident that all his partners die either. I think he kills them."
"Casey! That's horrible!" Tasha replied shrilly.
"I think it's true. So did Sean. He tried to get Smith to change his assignment, but he said no," Casey's voice had dropped to nearly a whisper. "Sean died, but the ice prince didn't have a scratch on him."
Tasha shivered too. "What do you think he is?"
"An agent? rebel maybe? Or maybe he's some kind of experiment gone wrong. Some kind of monster."
Anne rolled her eyes. "Like, you two are a couple of babies. Casey, do you want to trade patrols with me?"
They stared at her blankly.
"Uh... I guess so...sure," Casey said. "Are you sure?"
Anne crossed her arms and nodded. "And. I'll even prove to you once and for all that he's human."
"How?"
She blithely inspected her rose-painted fingernails. "The same way I prove any man human. I'll have him eating out of the palm of my hand by the end of the week."
"Uh-uh!" Casey objected. "Annie it's too dangerous."
"And anyway," Tasha added suspiciously, "how would you prove it. Even if he will sleep with you, I doubt he'll go around talking about it."
"Tch, fine. What do I need to prove it to you?"
Casey thought for a moment. "A lock of his hair. He won't let anybody touch it. If you think you can really get him to succumb to your charms, then you can get it from him willingly."
"How do you know I won't just cut it from him in the hall sometime or something?"
They goggled at her.
"Duh, Anne. Because he'd kill you."
Greer was doing one-handed pushups in an out of the way corner of the training room. At this point he wondered what time it was, and whether or not he was actually hungry. There were other recruits training now, trying their very best to ignore him, so it must be after breakfast time.
The recruit studied the ground intently. Sometimes the fact that the other recruits feared him vaguely amused him; other times gave him a thrill of satisfaction. Today it just pissed him off. Who were they to pass judgment on him? It wasn't his fault all his partners ended up dead. They were just stupid. If they'd get their heads out of their asses maybe they'd be able to see the bullets before they ripped through their tender flash.
A pair of pink Nike sneakers appeared in his field of view, and Greer stopped mid pushup to see who they belonged to. His gaze traveled up a pair of shapely and tanned female legs, to a pair of pink shorts and a white tank top that didn't cover a navel, up to the shoulders, neck and finally face of the golden haired harlot of the agency, Anne.
"Yes?" he snapped, wondering what in the hell she could want. He stood up, towering head and shoulders over the girl. His body was drenched in sweat and his shirt and sweatpants clung to him, as did the moist bits of hair that fell over his face.
"You looked like you'd been working out for a while. I thought you might appreciate a glass of water, at least." she held one out to him.
"Thanks, I've already got one," he said blandly requiring his own and taking a sip. He didn't know what sort of game she was playing but he certainly didn't trust it not to be the 'let's poison/drug Greer' game.
She shifted defensively, and the water disappeared from her hand, and eyed him as he drank his water coolly.
"How long have you been out here?" she asked.
"A while," he said, draining the glass. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasantry?" he asked, jumping to the chase.
He expected her to hesitate, but the reply rolled off her tongue smoothly. "oh you know, just saying hi. We're on patrol duty together for the week." She smiled brightly, as though there were little else in the world that she'd rather do than patrol with Vincent Greer.
"Ah," he nodded. That explained it. "I see. Have you got your affairs in order?"
"What?" she blinked fiercely.
"You know, your will, your estate. In case you die," he said nonchalantly.
"Like, I repeat, what?"
He was baiting her, but hey, it was fun.
"Well we are recruits you know. And the rebels aren't exactly toting water- pistols," he smiled.
They stood there in silence for a moment, staring each other down.
"Is this about that silly curse thing of yours?"
"I'm not sure," he said, feigning concern. "Why don't you tell me about it."
"Duh, you know what I'm talking about. You've got practically every recruit here thinking if they get paired with you, they're dead."
"And you don't believe it?"
"No."
Greer quirked an eyebrow. "What if I told you it was a gypsy curse?"
"Yeah, right."
"A gypsy curse laid on me a hundred years ago. One moment of true happiness and I'm cursed." Okay, now he was just being funny. She wouldn't get the joke but it was funny anyway.
Anne rolled her eyes at him. "Now I know why no one will give you the time of day. You're an asshole."
"Look, it does have a brain!" he exclaimed with a grin.
Suddenly Anne went to kick him; a well executed roundhouse that would have caught Greer completely off guard, except that he'd noticed the change in her posture probably before she'd consciously decided to kick him. He grabbed her ankle in the air, and held her tenuously balanced, as she glared at him.
"I don't appreciate that," he told her, waving a finger at her as if to say 'naught, naughty'.
"Jerk," she wrenched her foot away, completely ruining her balance, but managed to catch herself in a frog stance instead of tumbling to the floor. She stood and dusted herself off.
"Are you going to attack me again?"
"Are you going to insult me again?" she demanded.
"What about insulting me?"
"Well if you weren't such a wiseass!"
"So sue me," he shrugged. "Look, what the hell did you want anyway?"
"I told you, to introduce myself, since we were going to patrol together."
"Fine, you know me, I know you. Now go away."
She didn't move. Greer stared at her, her high cheek bones, rouged, her pouting lips, painted, and her eyelids sparkling.
"You want to spar?" she asked.
Greer was slightly taken aback. "And here I thought you were just some kind of club mascot. Won't I ruin your makeup, precious?"
She required a rubber band and pulled her blonde hair back tightly. "Not even if you tried." She stood ready.
Greer came at her. He attacked slowly at first, getting a feel for her skill, and for her technique. She wasn't bad. A bit heavy on the kicks, but that was just because she was a female, he supposed.
She got one good hit in though. He was about to block when a snippet of a conversation cut into his mind.
/I'd really rather see Secret Window, you know-/
Anne's fist landed solidly in his gut, but he managed to absorb the blow relatively well, and shove his power back where it belonged. He could feel though, that his range was wider than ever.
They traded blows for a few minutes until Greer picked up his pace and Anne was sweating, the scent of in mingling with that of her perfume. As Anne got more and more tired it became easier for Greer to deflect her blows, and harder for him to resist delivering the last punch. He finally gave in after a particularly ill-timed kick, and once again grabbed her by the ankle, but this time swept her to the floor before she could do anything.
She landed on the mat with a dull thud.
Greer looked down at her. "Not too bad I suppose. You might survive the curse after all."
He swung around sharply and stalked away.