Author's Note

Thank you for the reviews so far. I'm growing fond of this story and the direction I'm planning to take it. I hope each one of you is enjoying the story as well. For those who asked and followers of my fic 'Security,' I just wanted to say that my grandmother is still going strong. Her birthday is on Tuesday and it's a big deal to me that she has a great one. I still appreciate all the support. Thank you for the concern, thoughts, and prayers. Now, on with the show…

Chapter 2: Tonguing the Scratch

Sommerfield was in her lab feeling the stippled dog tags she had attached to her newest experiment. A steady ream of paper was folding over onto itself from a printer in the corner. She picked up the stream of paper tearing it into sheets and trying to put them in order. She was nearly done when the hair on the back of her neck went rigid. Sommerfield swiftly turned around at the sound of carefully placed footsteps. Startling King, he raised his hands up in the air in a motion to calm her down even though he was aware she wouldn't be able to see it.

"I wasn't trying to scare you…"

She recognized King's voice, but hadn't yet become familiar with his scent or body movements. She relaxed and smiled in his direction. Feeling around the floor, she bent down to retrieve the data that had spilled onto the floor in her haste. King crouched down and stilled her hand, picking up the papers for her.

"Sorry about that."

"No need to apologize King, I'm all nerves right now anyway. Just doing some research, that's all."

King looked at the sheets in her hand, seeing all these little formations and groups of dots, and realized they were all in Braille. He never thought of it as being its own language before he met Sommer. He nearly flunked out of Spanish because of sheer confusion but Braille seemed even more complex than any other language he tried to take in high school.

"Is it hard to do research when you're..."

He had suddenly become uncomfortable with his own question and trailed off. However Sommer felt no shame in pressing him further. She could tell he was interested to know the answer to his unfinished query despite his hesitation, so she offered an explanation.

"Blind? Well yes and no. I've rigged a pretty extensive system here to cater to my inability to see what I'm doing. Basically if I press any of this buttons, a polyphonic voice comes on telling me any updated information it was programmed to do. This baby has more power then the dos systems they use at NASA. So it's not so bad. Plus, when you've been blind this long, your reflexes seem to fine tune themselves as you have noticed. It does suck not being able to see what person a particularly handsome voice belongs to though…"

This made King feel so much better knowing that she could poke fun of her disability and it was an added bonus that she didn't treat him like he was the plague. He grinned at her compliment.

"It belongs to an equally handsome guy."

Sommer fumbled around with her keyboard entering more research into the main computer database, and chuckled to herself.

"Ah, a conceited one…"

King thought about it for a moment.

"I prefer the term self-assured, but if you must say that then, yeah I guess I am."

King watched as she moved with ease around her station. He could tell that she was definitely in her comfort zone. She was a speedy little devil. The printer was running madly again so she spoke louder over it.

"No worries. I like ya anyway. But don't let Miss Abigail catch you with that attitude just yet. She'll knock your balls right off of you and keep them in a jar on her desk."

He let out a frustrated sigh having already experienced a tongue lashing from the infamously reserved Whistler. He didn't know what he was going to have to do to break the barrier between the two of them, but he had to think of something because he depended on her so much. She was sort of his security blanket.

"What's wrong with her Sommer? If she turned down the air conditioner a little bit, I think she may be an okay girl, funny even. You should here some of the one-liners she throws at me. She's a girl after my own heart. I just can't seem to break down this gigantic wall she's constructed around herself with a big 'Fuck You' keep out sign on it."

Sommerfield truly felt bad for him. She knew exactly what he was talking about. She had seen Abby's reaction to King and it hadn't exactly been warm and fuzzy. Poor King, all he had in his defense was a genuinely good, slightly mischievous heart. He used his sarcasm and sense of humor as a mechanism to try and loosen Abby up, but to no avail. Yet, she also knew that Abby had her reasons, and that if King stuck to it long enough, he would find out what they were. However she tried her best to provide him with some temporary solace now to ease his mind.

"Abby will come around in her own time, King. She very wary of whom she trusts, and I can't say that I blame her. She was practically bred for this life. That will make anyone hardened eventually. Her life thus far hasn't been a bowl of cherries. Neither has yours from the looks of it. You two have more in common than you think. But don't you worry, when she does decide to let you in, you'll see that all of this will be worth it, I promise. She really is a great girl. And a very loyal and trustworthy friend, this I know firsthand. That's always a good thing to have in our field of work. Oh and honey… She wouldn't be giving you such a hard time if somewhere deep down she didn't believe that you had the potential to be a great partner in the long run."

With that she winked at him. One of the rare things she was still able to do with her eyes, and resumed her work.

"Thank you Sommer."

He left feeling somewhat refreshed and his spirits were lifted from that conversation. He definitely needed it. Leaving Sommerfield's laboratory, King turned into the hallway passing Abby's room and froze. Her door was slightly ajar. Looking in the crack, King saw her laying there. Only underwear covered her body. Her tank had been pushed up baring her stomach to him. Legs twisted in the sheets and her disheveled hair hung in her face. She was sound asleep. In this state, she didn't look so imposing. But then again who did when they were unconscious? Puffing out his chest he came to one conclusion… He was going to make Abigail Whistler his friend, or die trying. He could do this…Right?

Abby had woken up later in the afternoon happy that the night had gone by without a further hitch from King. She realigned her back as she rose and lightly rubbed her own shoulders heading out of her room to see what the others were up to. The first person she looked for was King. She'd figured she would get the unpleasantries out of the way first. He was supposed to be over with Hedges getting schooled in advanced weaponry and tactical terminology. She was looking forward to seeing the pained expression on King's face that made you think that Hedges was resorting to physical violence and bodily harm. Sadly, she couldn't seem to find him anywhere. Not that she bothered with an intensive search or anything. Shuffling into the kitchen, she discovered him sitting at the table, fully dressed now, with a bottle of water and a thick packet that Dex had made for him, outlining his new strict workout regimen. Now that King was healthy enough, Abby was to start slowly building him back up. He looked up only acknowledging her presence briefly before his eyes returned to study. This irked Abby in a weird way and she decided to call him on it.

"No witty remark for me today?"

King had taken to Sommer's advice and decided to just leave her alone like everyone else and see how long it took her to come to him. It wasn't going to be easy since he had a whole analog of sarcastic shots stored in his brain that he was dying to use. He was just going to have to play it cool. He just shrugged his shoulders as indifferently as he pleased.

"No. I don't feel like it right now."

Now for some reason, that really bothered her. She was getting used to his snide remarks and had come to expect them at the beginning of her day. Today however, she was just left with the void. She realized what he was up to. Abby wasn't stupid, not to be one outdone, she wasn't about to let him get away with it. She pulled out the chair across from him and leaned in close, her voice seething through her gritted teeth.

"Listen to me you little inflamed hemorrhoid; I know exactly what you trying to pull and it won't work. So you might as well just give up now."

King's eyebrow perked at this and he just leaned back, smiling smugly.

"Well let's see here Whistler…Just in that 3 second tandem you've manage to form two whole sentences directed towards me. Albeit your tone was a little harsh, but I do believe this is the most you've ever voluntarily spoken to me since I've been here. Thus you see my plan is working just as I anticipated. I have no intensions of letting you slide through my fingers, Baby Doll…"

He reached out and hooked his fingers with the ones she held in front of his face that had stopped moving mid-spiel. He felt how soft her hands were and wasn't expecting it because of her rigorous 9 to 5 a.m. job. He thought she would have calloused skin like his. He only held on for a second before slowly pulling his hand away to further continue basking in his victory. However, the celebration was short live when he resumed looking at her. Momentarily at a loss for words she just sat there and was forced to watch him gloat, which was a disgusting sight. This wasn't the first time Abby had contemplated sending him right back where she found him. She thought of doing that the first time he opened his mouth from a two day anesthetically induced coma. He had asked her to fuck him one time as a dying man's last wish until she physically informed him that he indeed wasn't going to die, by stabbing him accidentally with a callisthenic, acupuncture therapy needle. Inserting it into the muscle tissue underneath his left nipple, in turn making him wish he was already dead.

He thought for sure that she was going to lunge at him and he braced himself for the impact. Instead, what she decided to do proved to be much worse on King's psyche. She sat there as still as a statue, pinning him back with her gaze, making him feel insignificant as only she can, and daring him to make another potentially fatal move towards her. He instantly regretted ever opening his big mouth. He was afraid that maybe he just fucked up any chance he had by going too far too soon. Abby kicked out her chair as it hit the floor with a thud. She stepped over it, leaving it there and stalked out of the door. Her voice filled the room in her wake.

"Get ready…your training session begins in 20 minutes. I'll be on the roof."

With that, she was gone, leaving a very distraught King sitting there trying to process just how his whole plan had turned to shit in the matter of mere seconds. Damnit, he could tell he was going to be paying for this one with blood, sweat, and quite possibly tears. Something told him that she was highly capable of bringing a man, especially even one as tough as him, to tears. That is, if she didn't, in fact, kill him first.

Abby retreated to the rooftop for a moment of silence. She desperately needed to meditate or else her nerves were in danger of snapping under the pressure of King's attitude tap dancing all over them. Hopefully working his ass out will help decrease her stress level and the sick joy she was sure to get from beating him down would make her feel better.

He walked on the asphalt of the roof and saw Abby standing there with her hands clasped firmly behind her back. He hadn't realized how powerful her body really was until just now. The sun was gently casting its shadows on the sculpted lines of her arms and shoulders while she stood perfectly still, staring out into the distance of the surrounding sky. She didn't seem to notice that he was there; she seemed so focused on the horizon ahead of her. But, for the millionth time that day, King was again wrong.

"Put your athletics bag over on the storage rack. You won't be needing it today...

Speaking without breaking her glace, he followed her directions. Returning to stand right beside her, he rocked back and forth on his heels before the silence got to be too much for him and he clapped his hands together, louder than he meant to.

"So what are we going to do today? Lift weights…run, obstacle courses, what?"

Abby closed her eyes, breathing out a full 5 count. And for the first time since King came outside, she looked at him. He was sure murder was on her mind so he decided to clamp up.

"You know, it amazes me that you were able to keep quiet for the full 2 and a half hours last night. It must've all been a dream."

Without warning, she tossed him what looked like a rubber mat.

"What's this?"

She rolled out her own purple rubber thingy and grabbed a black bag, pulling out random objects and setting them in a rectangle around her. He saw a flash of fire as she lit sage sticks, aromatherapy candles, and incense. The smoke whipped up in little designs around her. She sat down on her mat and crossed her legs in what King deemed a physically impossible way. He watched as she placed her elbows on her knees and closed her eyes.

"That is a yoga mat. This is called a stance. You sit down right there, across from me, and mirror what I'm doing."

He spread out his mat and tried to pretzel his legs into her position. It was painful but he held it in. She began humming rhythmically and breathing deep and slow. He found it to be somewhat hypnotic.

"I'm teaching you meditation… It'll do you some good. It'll do us all some good…"

Without another word he obeyed her and did exactly what she said, humming along. Abby opened one eye to see King in perfect concentration trying his best to follow her lead. She smiled to herself. He was slowly chipping away at her defenses but she'd be damned if she was going to let him know that.