In Spying, Love, and War: A This Means War Fanfiction Story
Chapter 5:
The next day, at a military outpost modeled playfield...
It's going into the late afternoon.
Camo nets are hung over thick tree branches. Piles of rubber tires are here and there on wooden planks.
Down on the ground, there are eight one level watchtowers out of wood and plenty of tire piles.
Plenty of kids and adults are getting on mostly black military style gear, gray pouches of paintball capsules, and mostly silver lined yellow lensed ski like goggles. They're carrying black paintball guns.
Behind some of the camo nets... Lauren and TBN are getting their gear and paintball guns ready.
Lauren is wearing a gray long sleeved shirt and blue jeans. TBN is wearing a light red T-shirt and ripped blue jeans.
Lauren concludes, "okay. I'm think I'm ready."
She gets her goggles on.
TBN checks, "I think I'm ready too. You ever carried a weapon before?"
Lauren glances at her loaded paintball gun. She faintly chuckles.
She admits kind of awkwardly, "no, just water balloons at parties. I wasn't really good. I kept getting wet. So...yeah: Any ideas for me?"
TBN faintly laughs. Lauren faintly chuckles with a awkward grin.
TBN faintly nods. He figures, "okay. Just keep close to me and keep that end of the weapon well in the other direction from me. I'll cover you and you'll cover me."
Lauren says nervously, "um...okay."
TBN asks in concern, "what's wrong?"
Lauren faintly smiles.
At a near whisper all of a sudden... She points out, "not much. Just... You sure you don't need goggles? People could see right away you're a spy."
TBN faintly laughs.
TBN firmly reasons, "if anyone asks, I'm a ex-soldier. I think I'm covered. But...thank you Lauren."
He loads his paintball gun.
Lauren adds sincerely, "you're welcome Tuck."
She loads her paintball gun.
She walks over to some tires to test it out with a shot. But, nothing's coming out.
TBN puts down his paintball gun.
He walks over.
He checks, "you need some help?"
Lauren concludes, "yeah. Maybe. I think my triggering mechanism is stuck."
She keeps banging it kind of loudly against the tires as springs ache from the paintball gun.
She sighs frustratedly. She glares at the paintball gun.
Meanwhile... FDR is hiding by a camo net, wearing camo military gear and a matching military helmet.
He's loading a small pea shooter with a little dart.
He's faintly smiling to himself as he does.
Kind of tensely... TBN goes, "okay. Just... Just please stop hitting it! You're only..."
TBN is struggling to safely take the paintball gun away from Lauren. Her hands are clenched around it tightly as she's getting ready to determinedly try to bang it again.
Just as Lauren tries to fire the paintball gun though... FDR fires.
The little dart bounces off the safety button on Lauren's paintball gun...while it's unintentionally aimed between TBN's legs in the struggle.
FDR runs for it.
He tumble jumps off the end of some wooden planks, disappearing from sight.
A yellow paintball hits TBN between his legs.
His paintball gun falls on the wood.
He doubles over forward, coughing violently some. A lot of spit comes out of his mouth.
Lauren gets wide eyed and teary eyed.
She drops the paintball gun. It kind of splinters on the wood.
Lauren worriedly cries out, "oh my god! Are you okay?"
She puts two sympathetic hands on his shoulder, ready to try to help him up.
After half a minute... TBN catches his breath.
He straightens up. He kind of firmly nods.
Lauren somberly says, "I shouldn't have tried to fight you. I'm really sorry. Faint sniffle. I just..."
Some tears fall from her face.
But... TBN insists somewhat casually, "no, I'm good. You're okay."
As he says it...he catches from the corner of his eye the little dart on the wood floor.
Lauren voices, "no, I'm sorry. I really don't like it when I can't get a product to work, and... Heavy sigh. I just feel so bad."
She steps back a little as TBN picks up the kind of splintered gun.
He holds it up.
Kind of lying... He says, "I was keeping watch on it before it fell. It's just a bad gun. It's not you."
Lauren very faintly smiles.
Lauren concludes, "I still feel bad. But...you sure?"
TBN puts a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.
He kind of confidently says, "yeah. We'll go and get a new one with no stuck safety. I'll cover you."
The teariness in Lauren's eyes start drying up.
Lauren adds more cheerfully, "thank you. I needed that." TBN adds, "you're welcome."
They fast walk down some wooden steps.
They get to the paintball gun bin.
Lauren is picking one out.
Paintball guns fire off. Several people go down in colorful paint bursts by some tires.
A kid laughs at the yellow paint still on TBN's pants.
Some people fire paintballs at TBN. But, TBN side tumbles easy past the incoming paintballs.
He fires paintballs at two of them as he does, taking them down.
The kid is about to fire a paintball at TBN.
As Lauren is testing out her latest paintball gun... It fires a paintball.
The kid goes down in a colorful paint burst of blue.
Lauren chuckles in relief. She goes lightly, "oh my god."
TBN calls back, "that was good!" Lauren adds, "yeah."
Soon, they're standing on top of a watchtower.
They're faintly smiling. They're back to back, firing paintballs.
More people go down left and right.
And now, no one is laughing at the yellow paint still on TBN's pants. They're just enjoying themselves.
Early that night, at a certain house...
The garage walls are mostly cobblestone. The roof is dark gray with some windows from the attic.
The support beams between the walls are darkish blue. A white lined mostly light gray stable and a white lined mostly light gray shed is in the back.
There's a wide grassy field. Off in the center, some white painted tables and wooden chairs are between some trees. A kid with a blue pail is whirling around back there, making rocket noises.
FDR is pulling up in the driveway in his car. And, Lauren is in the co-pilot seat.
What neither of them notice though...is a familiar C.I.A. spy drone hovering over a mostly light yellow house just across the street.
FDR is wearing a formal black suit and white undershirt. His bruises seem mostly gone.
Lauren is wearing a white laced sleeveless dress and her sleek gray black jacket.
Lauren has her hair looking all polished and slightly more curly. She has on faint purplish red lipstick.
In surveillance room 3A... Tuck is sitting there, faintly smiling to himself for some reason.
He's got a ice pack for around his legs. But, he's wearing another pair of blue jeans.
Back at a certain house... FDR wonders, "where is Tuck? He was supposed to be here for the special occasion."
He's acting absentminded as he says it.
Somewhat awkwardly... Lauren starts to go, "umm..."
Turning to her... FDR wonders, "what's wrong?"
Lauren blushes a little.
She explains, "he had to get his pants cleaned...because of a bad paintball gun. Kind of a long story. But, his... Moderate sigh. Well, he said to tell your nana he had to go into overtime at that desk clerk job. But, to be honest with you...he's still kind of sore down there."
FDR makes a uneasy face. He figures, "ouch. Like the Bangladesh incident."
Lauren nervously questions, "what incident?"
FDR is quick to say, "long story."
Lauren suggests, "maybe you should tell me later. I mean, if it's not too classified."
FDR tries to assure, "no. Not for you."
Lauren faintly smiles. FDR faintly smiles back.
FDR gets out a recently bought apple pie from the back of the car.
Lauren and FDR walk up to the dark blue lined white door, holding hands.
Once they get there, FDR pulls his hand away so he can have a free hand to ring the doorbell.
The door opens.
From inside, the house's walls are diagonally stripped mostly dark blue and white.
FDR's nana appears in the doorway.
She has her blondish gray hair tied in a bun. She's wearing a open long sleeved light green woven sweater over a white long sleeved shirt. She also wears a short black shrouded pink and purple floral gown.
Nana greets, "oh, hello."
A little awkwardly... FDR introduces, "uh, Nana, this is Lauren. Lauren, this is my grandmother, Nana."
Nana kind of quickly comments, "so you're the girl who's been putting up with Franklin and Tuck."
Lauren kind of confidently smiles. She just says, "mm-hm."
Nana adds, "it's nice to meet you, Lauren. I've heard quite a bit about you from my grandson."
Lauren adds, "well, thank you. It's nice to meet you too."
They shake hands.
FDR is still standing there next to Lauren, awkwardly so.
Nana courteously concludes, "you're welcome. So, where is Tuck?"
Lauren gives her a explanation, "he's sorry he couldn't make it. He tried to get out of work tonight so he could do it tomorrow. But, he had to work overtime."
Nana nods approvingly.
She figures, "I see. He always was so dedicated."
Just then... FDR holds up the pie still in his hand.
With a polite smile... He tells, "I brought pie."
Nana kind of bluntly deduces, "yeah, well, you know where the kitchen is. Lauren and I have a lot to talk about."
FDR kind of awkwardly nods as he starts his way for the kitchen.
Nana is courteously escorting Lauren in with her hand. Lauren just smiles as she lets her lead the way towards some white double doors.
FDR lays down the pie on the polished cobblestone like kitchen counter.
Suddenly... Nana turns back to FDR, "oh, Franklin?"
FDR pauses. He asks, "yes, nana?"
Nana brings up, "there was a big package at the door. It's addressed to you."
Sounding a little confused... FDR automatically assumes, "where can I...? Oh right. In the back?"
Nana faintly chuckles. She concludes, "no. Just by the kitchen counter. I didn't want the government seal to draw attention. Oh, how the neighbors do like to gossip."
Lauren and FDR look quite nervous for a bit. But, just as quickly, they politely smile.
FDR adds, "thank you." Nana adds, "you're welcome."
Nana opens the double doors, leading Lauren outside.
As she closes the double doors behind her... Lauren can't help but ask, "what package?"
With some mixed feelings all a sudden... Nana says, "oh, I don't know. I never liked opening government packages. In all my years, I've never seen anything good in them."
She gets a little teary eyed.
Lauren gets very quiet as Nana leads her to the stable.
Soon after...
Nana is showing Lauren the horses, the collection of old fashioned fur saddles, and the gallery of pinned up photos on the wooden wall above the saddles.
Lauren smiles.
Lauren says, "oh, the horses are beautiful. These baby pictures are beautiful too."
Nana smiles. She concludes, "thank you. I thought you would."
Lauren wonders, "did he tell you I grew up on a farm in Georgia when I was a kid?"
Nana faintly chuckles. She tells, "oh yes."
Lauren chuckles kind of nervously.
Then, Lauren wonders, "is this FDR?"
She's looking at a picture of a toddler with his mouth open, a faint unibrow, and very dark brown hair.
Nana answers, "yes."
Lauren grins. She comments, "he's cute even with that unibrow."
Nana adds, "I know. He was so cute."
Lauren then asks, "and who are these people?"
She's briefly pointing to a family picture by a purple ribbon.
It's of a certain laughing six year old kid wearing a dark green cap, a black T-shirt, black and white striped gloves, and gray pants. A grinning woman with long very dark red hair is hugging him, wearing a mostly tan gray long sleeved shirt and gray pants.
A faintly grinning man with a light blue and dark blue striped T-shirt and gray pants is also in the picture. He has a arm around the woman. Behind them is a wooden lined screen fence and hints of a garden.
Nana explains somberly, "oh. Those are his parents. They died when he was 9."
Lauren gets teary eyed.
She concludes, "I'm so sorry. He never told me that."
Nana says, "yeah. In a car crash. Or so the cover story was. Faint sniffle."
Lauren asks, "what happened?"
Nana finds it hard to look up. She's getting teary eyed.
After a bit... Nana says, "ten years later, the C.I.A. files were declassified."
Lauren gulps kind of nervously. She questions, "C.I.A?"
Nana reveals, "his father was in the military. The C.I.A. gave him and several others a mission in Russia to stop corruption at the highest levels. They gave them that cover story. He agreed to go under the condition she came with him. But, umm... Faint sniffle. They didn't come back. No one did. Moderate sigh. I never forgave the government since. But, Franklin and Tuck still want to trust them."
Lauren looks nervous and very awkward all at once.
She says, "I'm really sorry."
But, kind of quick to try to lighten the mood... Lauren points to another picture.
She wonders, "who's this?"
Nana faintly smiles.
Nana faintly chuckles. She comments, "you don't miss a thing."
Lauren faintly grins.
Nana recalls, "he wore that Superman costume everywhere. You wouldn't believe the smell."
Lauren faintly chuckles.
Meanwhile, through the kitchen window... The familiar C.I.A. spy drone is watching.
FDR breathes a nervous sigh of relief, thinking he's by himself.
He walks over to the other side of the kitchen counter.
A large cardboard box is lying on its side on the wooden floor.
It has a C.I.A. logo on it...and it's now starting ticking.
FDR quickly tears it open, bent over the package.
He tears it open...to find a analog timer attached to a spherical see through bomb.
It's filled with red and blue paintballs. The countdown is already at 0:01.
And... A little piece of paper taped to the bomb says "from Tuck".
FDR mutters, "shit!"
The bomb explodes in a burst of red and blue paint.
He reactively covers his face with his arms.
But...the rest of his upper body is covered in drippy red and blue paint.
He mutters under his breath, "shit, shit...shit! God, I need a extraction!"
He throws off his paint covered shirt and suit, letting them fall onto the paint stained spots on the floor.
He runs up to the bathroom, locking it behind him.
And meanwhile, in surveillance room 3A... Tuck is kind of doubled over, laughing.
In the bathroom... FDR is desperately trying to wash out the paint from his hair and hands before it dries with soap and water. But, by then, it's already hardening.
He gets teary eyed.
And, as he keeps trying to wash out the paint from his hair and hands... He mutters out loud angrily, "it was Savile Row's finest!"
Around then, out by the stable...
Lauren wonders, "you have a hard time trusting people?"
Nana solemnly remarks, "doesn't everyone at different points?"
Lauren realizes, "that's true. Sometimes I do."
The teariness in their eyes start to dry up.
With some mixed feelings... Nana reveals, "you know... When Franklin heard of the car crash...he's never been quite the same. He worries himself sick. He blames himself because he feels he could've saved them, even after the truth came out. But, you didn't hear it from me."
Lauren faintly chuckles at the last part.
She assures, "I won't tell, nana."
Nana adds, "good."
They both faintly smile.
Then... Lauren's cell phone rings from her jacket.
She says, "I'll be right back."
She walks over to the opposite corner of the stable. She picks up her cell phone.
Lauren answers, "hello? FDR, what's...?"
She gets teary eyed. She faintly sniffles.
Lauren voices, "oh my god, I'm really sorry. Yeah, I... Please just calm down! I'll tell her for you. Okay? Hard sniffle. Really FDR, it's ok. I'm a woman. I understand these things. Okay? Okay."
Lauren hangs up, putting the cell phone away.
From behind her... Nana asks nervously, "was that just...?"
Lauren turns back to her.
She nervously gives FDR's explanation, "yeah. The box was a paint bomb. Probably some kid thought it was a good prank. But...he has paint in his hair and hands, and his suit is ruined."
Nana moderately sighs. She says, "oh dear. He really loved that suit."
Lauren figures, "yeah. As soon as he's finished in the bathroom, I'm going to take him back to his apartment. I'm sorry to cut our visit short. But..."
Nana insists assuringly, "no, I understand. I have a spare bathrobe if you..."
Lauren adds, "yeah, that would be helpful. Thank you."
Nana puts a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Nana concludes, "you're welcome. He's very lucky to have you."
Lauren faintly smiles. She adds, "thank you."
She starts her way back to the house.
Nana concludes bittersweetly, "and next time, I'll check the box first."
Lauren turns back, facing her from just outside the stable.
Lauren adds, "that would be a good idea. Thank you."
She then fast walks back through the double doors to go find that spare bathrobe.
Two days later, in FDR's and TBN's shared room...
FDR is by himself, swimming underwater in the kind of big light blue tiled private pool.
His bruises are gone. His hair is back to normal, and so are his hands.
He faintly smiles with closed eyes. He's wearing light blue swimming trunks.
After most of a minute... He swims up. He comes up for air.
By his dark gray towels off by the edge of the private pool... His cell phone rings.
FDR hurries over to his towels.
Soon as he dries off... He scrolls through a wall of text messages from Lauren.
They say:
Are you okay? Please get back to me soon. I'm worried. Are you okay? Please get back to...
The call goes missed. But... FDR already knows well who probably did.
He calls Lauren.
After a bit of ringing... Lauren answers kind of nervously, "FDR."
She's walking back to her and Trish's house, carrying her cell phone.
She's wearing a dark brown dress with a low cut neckline. She doesn't have faint purplish red lipstick on her lips anymore. She also has her hair mostly tied back in a bun.
It's late afternoon and she just got back from work.
FDR responds, "hey. I just saw your texts."
Over the phone... Lauren says solemnly, "hey. I've been really worried about you. But... Very faint chuckle. Well, I guess we both really worry."
She pauses on some stone steps. She's at the red brown front door.
FDR faintly chuckles. He reflects, "yeah. Guess we do."
There's a brief awkward silence.
Lauren asks, "how are you?"
FDR responds, "better now. How are you?"
Lauren faintly smiles.
With some mixed feelings... Lauren concludes, "okay. I went on my date with Tuck yesterday. Faint chuckle. We raced spy cars on the test track. It was amazing. But...I missed you. We both do."
Seeming completely unphased... FDR says, "yeah. I missed you too."
But... He thinks to himself:
Yeah. This is not over, Tuck.
Faint laugh.
You're thinking I'm going to come crying to you in defeat like a little kid.
Good try man. But, I'm still not backing off from our war.
The next day, in the late afternoon...
On FDR's next date... He holds up his C.I.A. badge and says it's "a matter of international security" to get some museum curators to let him and Lauren into a museum artifacts warehouse without question.
Lauren nervously looks to him as they go in. But, FDR and Lauren soon just faintly chuckle and laugh.
Lauren has her hair straightened and down. She's wearing a kind of dark red dress reminiscent of couch cushioning. She also has a curved bar gold bracelet on her right wrist.
FDR is wearing very dark blue dress pants and a dark blue army like shirt.
There's a lot of crates and packaging paper. Australian art posters are everywhere.
Stunned... Lauren suddenly realizes, "oh my... Is this what I think it is?"
FDR confidently goes, "mm-hm. Gustav Klimt. I know he's your favorite artist. So..."
Lauren concludes excitedly, "oh my god. This surprise is incredible! Thank you."
She kisses him.
She then hugs him tight around his side. FDR hugs her back.
Her head is resting over his shoulder, admiring The Kiss painting before them.
FDR smiles. He says, "you're welcome."
Back in the surveillance room... Tuck moderately sighs in his seat.
With some keys at the computer... Tuck faxes in to the F.B.I. a fake criminal record for FDR.
Soon as Lauren and FDR leave the warehouse arm in arm... They hear police sirens.
Very nervously... Lauren wonders, "FDR? Did we just get found out?"
FDR gets a ring on his cell phone.
He picks up his phone to find a text message from Tuck:
Did you just try to smuggle knock offs, man? Don't tell me I didn't warn you. ;)
Then, some police cars pull up in the parking lot.
As he looks up from his cell phone... FDR sees them.
He mutters under his breath, "son of a bitch."
The next night...
On Tuck's next date... He takes Lauren to his dad's loft all the way out in Texas: With help from a C.I.A. private jet on the grounds of "a matter of national security".
His very rude brutish muscular military dad has gone out for drinks with his drinking buddies.
Tuck and him only tolerate each other anyway. So, he was happy with letting Tuck crash there for the night...long as they don't meet each other in person or shoot up his place.
The floor is half covered in brown animal skins and half metal. Walls are mostly pale green. Black and white photos memorabilia of are hung up over them: From veterans posing in front of a old missile base to rolling in tanks firing cannons in a World War II war field.
A spare jagged edged mostly jet black motorcycle is in the corner. Cage like spheres encasing white lights are hung over the ceiling. Some black railing and matching stairs go up to the bedroom part, where there's a easy to see dark yellow sheeted bed right by some railing.
A very dark blue desk and file cabinet is in another corner. A stack of military documentary and war movie DVDs on top of the desk and several big alcohol stains around.
Some candles, a green glass bottle of wine, and some wine glasses are by the wood table and very dark yellow couch. They're both in the center of the main area.
Lauren is wearing a silky black sleeved dress. Tuck is wearing a buttoned up tan brown overshirt and blue jeans.
As they come in hand in hand... Tuck somewhat casually goes, "yeah. This is his house."
Looking stunned... Lauren concludes, "wow. This is your shit dad's house. But, this is amazing."
Tuck faintly smiles. He adds, "yeah. Indeed."
Lauren is looking around at all the memorabilia on the walls.
Nervous and thrilled all at once... Lauren concludes, "how really fantastic."
Tuck pulls her in close.
They make out some.
Then... Tuck brings up, "do you know why I knew you would?
Lauren wonders, "no. Why?"
With their arms still wrapped around each other... She starts to fast walk backs over toward the couch, nearly pulling Tuck off his feet by surprise.
Tuck though quickly picks up on this, following her to the couch.
Soon, they're faintly chuckling and laughing.
Lauren is lying on the couch. Tuck is on top of her.
Lauren kisses him.
Then... Tuck states, "because I thought it would be a nice reminder of your uncle. I could be wrong. But, before he passed on, I think he used to be stationed at a missile silo in World War II."
Lauren gets wide eyed. She starts to sit up.
Tuck reactively gets off, sitting by her.
Lauren thinks out loud, "oh my... Wow. I didn't even think of that. But...you're right. I didn't even tell you about him. You are disturbingly good at knowing what I'm thinking."
Tuck faintly chuckles. He suggests, "maybe that's because we've completely fallen in love."
Lauren faintly chuckles. She figures awkwardly, "well...maybe. Sorry. I'm still trying to decide."
Tuck puts a sympathetic hand on hers.
Tuck insists, "it's okay."
Lauren smiles. She breathes a nervous sigh of relief.
She adds, "oh good."
Tuck pulls his hand away. There's a brief nervous silence.
Then... Lauren kind of playfully grins.
Lauren challenges, "okay. When I was young, my uncle wanted me to be in the military like him. Do you know what I thought?"
Tuck admits, "actually... Faint laugh. No. Not really."
Lauren reveals, "I liked my uncle. But, I thought product testing would be more fun and still involve helping people."
Tuck adds, "that's incredible."
Lauren blushes. She says, "thank you. I love my job."
Tuck says, "you're welcome Lauren."
Before she can say anything else... Tuck kind of points to the lit candles.
He asks kind of nervously, "do you think the candles are a bit cheesy?"
Lauren faintly chuckles.
She puts a sympathetic hand on his.
Lauren assures, "no Tuck. I think they're wonderful. This is getting to be the perfect night."
Lauren and Tuck smile. They start making out on the couch, pulling each other close.
In surveillance room 3A... FDR is kind of lying back in his chair, ready with a toy like red button on a plastic cord filled with wires.
He faintly laughs to himself as he presses it.
In Tuck's dad's loft... The sprinkler system suddenly turns on.
Cold sprinkler water rains down.
The thin stemmed glasses of wine shatter.
Tuck and Lauren kind of pull away, shivering and soaked.
They look up. They gasp in great confusion.
But, as they very awkwardly look at each other... They both realize, "FDR."
In surveillance room 3A... FDR moderately groans into his hands.
The next day, in FDR's and Tuck's shared room...
Out through the windows... The sun is setting.
FDR leads Lauren in.
FDR is wearing a very dark blue sweater over a pale pink collared shirt and blue jeans. Lauren is wearing a sleeveless dark red dress and black high heels.
Lauren very faintly smiles, "it's great, FDR. But..."
FDR wonders, "yeah?"
With a warning glare... Lauren insists, "but we still need to talk."
They both sit on the black couch right by the kitchen area.
Kind of lying... FDR tries to assure, "I told you on the phone: It was just a prank."
Lauren moderately sighs.
She kind of nervously argues, "well, it sure didn't feel like that. Not for him."
FDR suddenly gets a little teary eyed, finding it hard to look up at her.
FDR awkwardly says, "I'm sorry. I could even pay him back for the damages with my own money."
Kind of reluctant sounding... Lauren says, "well...okay. But, you should talk to him soon."
FDR concludes, "okay."
Lauren concludes, "maybe we could still have a date. But...I want to think about it a little. Okay?"
She puts a sympathetic hand on his shoulder at the last part.
Still finding it hard to look up... FDR awkwardly answers, "okay."
Lauren adds, "I'll be right back."
She heads up some winding concrete stairs to the pool.
Soon as she's out of sight... FDR sighs heavily into his hands.
And, he mutters somberly to himself, "what have I done?"
Just then... He hears the door slowly open.
FDR ahems. He wipes the teariness from his eyes.
He goes to answer the door, kind of shoving it all the way open.
No one seems to be there.
FDR pulls out his pistol. He cautiously looks ahead to the concrete bunker walled hall.
Suddenly... He feels a sharp prick and sting on his neck.
Tuck drops down from a part of ceiling ahead in a all black stealth suit, making a run for it.
FDR quickly pulls out a tranquilzer dart.
In very mixed feelings... He mutters under his breath, "son of a...!"
FDR falls unconscious in seconds, still holding the pistol.
By then... Lauren comes back down.
She calls out in confusion, "FDR?"
She then sees FDR on the floor.
Lauren gasps, rushing to him.
Lauren murmurs worriedly, "oh my god. FDR?!"
She gets teary eyed.
She checks his pulse.
Lauren moderately sighs with some relief, knowing he's still alive.
Then... She notices the tranquilizer dart that fell from FDR's other hand.
Lauren quickly checks out the windows.
She catches sight of Tuck driving away fast in his car, still in his stealth suit.
She goes back to the tranquilizer dart.
She carefully examines it herself by the kitchen sink, with some paper towels over the sharp end.
Realizing what it is... She very nervously gulps.
Soon, she sharply glares.
And, as she puts down the tranquilizer dart and paper towels... Lauren realizes, "Tuck."
Late that night...
FDR wakes up, still in the room.
He groans, pulling himself up.
He gets up...to find the whole complex torn apart.
Smashed kitchen appliances, TV set screen glass shards, couch pillows, fallen seats, and two open laptops with cracked screens are on the floor.
FDR mutters in shock, "damn."
Tuck is just coming back in...when he sees the complex.
He's shocked, standing speechless.
Fearing the worst... They both quickly check their cell phones.
And, as they look at recent text messages on their phones... They very nervously gulp.
Both text messages say this:
I found out you're secretly at war over me. I got angry.
I'm really sorry for breaking your things. :(
But...we need to talk.
12:30 tomorrow, Trucco's Pizza.
I want to try to make peace with both of you. But, I'll walk if I think I should.
And...one more thing.
Please don't come with a tranquilizer or try to make war. Or, Trish's friends in the F.B.I. are going to bring you both in for questioning.
I really don't want that to happen. Just... Just please don't keep testing me like this.