Flight of the Disclaimer: Whee I own nothing! Except for my undying devotion to both Simon Pegg and Bruce Campbell...one tall and dark haired, one not as tall and blonde, but both bad ass's when it comes to fighting the evil hungry re-animated hordes of the dead! Yay! Thank you to those who have reviewed so far. This is kind of a short chapter, but it was fun to write. I promise the next one will be more violent and darker. Bad things will start to happen soon. Aren't you glad?
Emily was on cloud nine as she walked up the two flights of stairs to Deb's apartment. It was amazing...she hadn't thought guys like Shaun existed anymore. Of course there was still that nagging doubt in the back of her mind that he could turn out like David. But she squashed those thoughts as quickly as they started. No, she'd enjoy this for as long as it lasted.
She grabbed the key from under the tattered welcome mat and unlocked the door as quietly as she could. The small apartment was quiet except for the hum from the heating that had clicked on. Deb's bedroom door was cracked open, and she could see a stockinged leg hanging off the side of the mattress and the sound of deep snoring. Yep, she'd be out until probably five minutes before she had to leave.
Emily went to the couch, also known as her bed. She rummaged through her suitcase and found a pair of black jeans and a blue flame button up shirt. Grabbing the bag that held her make up and toiletries she headed off to the bathroom.
It was a little over an hour later she emerged dressed and ready to go. Emily looked at her watch and saw that she was right on time. She grabbed her bag and checked to make sure she was presentable in the mirror next to the door. Make-up looked good, with a dark purple color on her lips and over her eyes, making the blue stand out. She was always pale, there was no helping that. Her short red hair was brushed back and curled softly around her face. She was wearing her Jack Skellington earrings and her Jack Skellington wrist band. Have to represent for Burton, she thought to herself.
"Well, this is as good as it gets." She sighed. She placed a note telling Deb where she was going on the coffee table and walked out of the apartment, silently shutting the door.
She took a seat on the concrete steps that led to the apartment complex's entrance and enjoyed the overcast weather. The air was cool and there was the slightest breeze along the sidewalk.
Emily heard someone humming the theme to Doctor Who and looked up to find Shaun walking toward her. When he saw her he smiled and hurried over. "Hey there, you been waiting long?" He leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
"No not long at all." She brushed any dust off her pants and grinned at him. "So what's the plan then fearless leader?"
"Well...for a start I thought we'd hit The Bin, this really groovy comic shop down a ways. Then pop over to The Shepherd's for a bite of Thai and a pint, then Vinyl Island for some record browsing, and finish up at the Movie Dungeon for a matinee of Hawk the Slayer." Shaun took a breath and gave her a hopeful grin. "Sound good?"
Emily gazed at him for a moment in absolute awe. "Hawk the Slayer on the big screen?? Are you serious?!"
Shaun narrowed his eyes. This could be a problem. "You don't like Hawk the Slayer?"
She gave him a look of mock horror. "Are you mad? John Terry of the wooden face, Jack Palance doing his best imitation of Khan, crossbows that fire like machine guns?? Hawk the Slayer kicks ass!"
"But for the simple fact we are on a public street, I'd be ripping your clothes off right now and having my way with you. You do realize that?" He said putting his arm around her shoulders and leading her towards their first destination.
"That was last night dear..." She said laughing and leaning against him. "But shall I tell you my thoughts on Legend and The Sword and the Sorcerer? Or all the naughty fantasies I used to have about Tim Curry?"
"Cheeky monkey." He grinned kissing the top of her head.
As the happy couple went off for their day of fun, Deb was awoken by the evil, demented sound that only her clock radio could make. It reminded her of the bastard offspring of a fog horn and a bombing raid siren. Groping half blind she hit the button to turn it off and slowly sat up.
"I feel like death warmed over." She said aloud, her voice rough from far too many cigarettes the night before and way too much booze. Tom had left her hours ago, and she wondered for a brief moment if was even able to make it back to his place and wasn't lying on the street somewhere.
With a loud groan she staggered to the bathroom. As she passed the coffee table she saw the note written in big red letters from Emily. She read it quickly, tossing it back down and shaking her head. "Her funeral." She muttered, turning on the shower.
Deb hurriedly dressed and was off to the office, pulling on her shoe on the stoop. She was late of course, and now she'd had to call a cab to get here there. At least they'd foot the bill for it. She'd make sure Lon got the receipt on his damn desk. It was bad enough the cocky little bastard was making her come in to help get this damn story finished.
The way he was going on about it, it would be big. Maybe he'd take her along if it got him the recognition he was saying it would. She had no idea what the story was though, since he kept it hush hush and need to know.
Her curiosity was getting the better of her as she rode in the back of the black cab. When she got to the office she failed to tip the guy, for which she was flipped a middle finger as she took off, grabbing the receipt from his hand and running up the steps to the double doors.
On the ride up the elevator she checked her make-up in the mirrored wall. Lon wasn't harsh on the eyes by any means. And he'd made it clear more than once he'd like to get to know her better. But he wouldn't get anywhere with her until there was some substantial growth in either her title or salary. As Deb was fixing a strand of hair the doors opened.
She wasn't used to coming in on the weekends and the silence of the empty offices was a tad ominous. The lights weren't on either, so the only illumination came from the sunlight filtering in through the blinds. "Fucking creepy." She muttered to herself.
Deb shook off the feeling and headed towards Lon's office. It was tucked in between two others on the far side of the floor. He shared it with another reporter who was out most of the time. Deb supported both of them and one other journalist. "Hey Lon, what's with the lights?" She called out as she flipped the switch to the lights in his office. She saw his head over the top of his chair, and knew he was in there sitting in the dark.
The chair quickly turned towards her and the reporter placed an arm over his eyes. "Turn it off!!!" He cried out in a raspy voice.
Deb complied and looked at him with raised brows. "What's up with you? Hard night last night or something?" She asked him placing her purse down next to the door.
When he lifted his arm away from his face she saw his skin was waxy pale, and he was covered in sweat. "Jesus Lon, you need a doctor."
She hurried over to him, looking closely at him but not touching him. He shook his head and motioned for her to get away. "I'm... (cough) fine. Go and get the prints out of the developing room for me so we can go over them. They should be dry by now."
Deb went to the door of the office then turned around, "You sure you don't want juice or something? Vitamin C might do you some good?"
Lon coughed, grabbing a tissue and dabbing at his forehead. "I'll be fine...it's the flu. Just go and get the damned pictures."
"Alright Mr. Personality!" She said and flipped him the bird when she was out of sight. "Fuck brain."
Meanwhile Shaun and Emily were having quite an enjoyable afternoon. They had made it to The Bin and he was busy showing her the wonder that was Johnny Alpha and 2000AD. She had to admit it was some good stuff. While he was rifling through back issues, she moved along to a display near one of the windows. She stopped walking and just stared at it.
Shaun hadn't heard her for a minute or saw her, and noticing she'd disappeared looked around. He found her and came to stand beside her, noticing her gaze was now vacant. He shook his hand in front of her. "Hello! Anyone there?"
"Gah?" was the reply.
He turned to see what had her so glued and came face to face with a life size Bruce Campbell cut out touting the new Evil Dead comic line. "Oh come on! The guy has never really faced down a horde of the undead in his life." He said his face etched in disbelief.
"Gah?" was the reply.
"He'd probably piss himself if he had to take on a zombie." Shaun's voice dripped with a pouty contempt. He looked back over to Emily and saw she hadn't really moved yet.
Brian, the owner came over to them. "Something I can get you there Shaun?"
With a heavy sigh, Shaun pointed to the display. "Yeah, better give me one of those before she takes root."
The older man nodded and pulled down an issue, handing it over to him. Shaun then handed it to Emily who broke free of her trance as the plastic covered comic touched her palm. "Tee hee." She said with a maniacal grin.
"You got a bit of drool there, love." Shaun pointed out grumpily.