Urm, I don't own anything. Anything at all.
Jackson frowned at the crossword in his hands. He couldn't concentrate. There was another mini-riot going on outside his cell, and although the door was thick, the sound still managed to filter through. He sighed, setting the pen and paper down. There was no point in attempting to continue. Instead, he lay back on the hard, grey bunk and closed his eyes, revelling in the memories conjured up by his restless mind. He did this every day, limiting himself, because he knew that it was best to take things like this in moderation. He smiled to himself. It was not often that he thought of the past, as much of it was too painful. But he liked this particular set of memories.
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Lisa hesitated, her hand on the cold doorknob. She wondered briefly if she should just run, past the armed guards behind her, back down the corridor and out of this cold, forbidding building. But she didn't. She couldn't. She had to see him, to face up to him. Maybe then the dreams that had been plaguing her would finally leave. She had to see him, handcuffed, incapacitated. That would drive away the nightmares. But more importantly, she had to see his eyes. She had to see the evil in those crystalline depths, the evil that it was becoming harder and harder to convince herself had been there. She had to know how wicked he was. Maybe this would stave off the dreams. And the daydreams. The dreams where somethingdifferent happened on the red eye flight, or the ones where he came back. In these dreams, he most certainly was not wicked, or evil. In fact...
"Miss Reisert?"
The voice of one of the men behind her jerked her out of her reverie. She gritted her teeth, her mind made up. The door creaked open.
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"Rippner."
It was a statement. Slowly Jackson cracked open his eyes, taking in the thick-set man who now stood in the doorway to his cell.
"You have a visitor."
All colour drained from Jackson's face.
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Lisa sat in the stiff, grey chair, fidgeting slightly. Why were the chairs here so uncomfortable? Suddenly, the door on the other side of the glass opened, and a man was shoved in, before the door slammed shut. Lisa smiled to herself, glad that the prison officials had kept their word. She wanted this meeting to be private.
She watched Jackson pick himself off the floor slowly. He brushed himself down, still not looking at her. Finally he looked up, and she felt her breath catch in her throat at the expression on his face, in his ice-blue eyes. Jackson Rippner, assassination manager, looked terrified out of his mind.
So there it is... Please, oh wonderful FF people, tell me what you think, but bear in mind that I am only 13 and this is my first ever fanfiction ever. Ever.
PJ
...ever.
P.S. I know that the title is random, but I was listening to 'Join Me' by HIM while trying to think of a title, so I just nicked a line from that. I might change it later, if I'm allowed...