Okay, if you REALLY want to get the mood of this chapter, go onto youtube and find the song "All the Things You Said" or "Not Gonna Get Us"; both songs by t.A.T.u.
Even though I'm straight, I LOVE t.A.T.u. (Which I don't own, by the way.)! They sound great and their songs are so full of emotion! I think you'll fall in love with their songs too if you give them a listen.
Several other t.A.T.u songs will suit some other pairings in this fic very well…but I won't give you any specifics on that just yet…MWAHAHAHAHA!
Hem hem…where was I? Oh, yes…
To Digitaldreamer: Yeah, I know chapter 8 was a bit confusing, but that's sort of the effect I was going for. The way it's written requires one to really think about which of our desperate convicts is thinking what. I'm evil that way…MWAHAHAHAHA!!!! I'm glad it turned out okay..and SQUEE! I worked so hard on the one sided BennyxMaloof scene! I was very pleased with the way it turned out. I'm glad someone else liked it too! I KNEW the chapter needed a touch of lightness to it; and it took me a while to find where to slip it in. I would love to draw that scene if I ever manage to find some spare time lol…I'm afraid that's all I can say for now…I hope you are un-dizzified! XD!
This chapter is dedicated to Digitaldreamer; who also gets a digital cookie of her choice for being nice enough to always leave a review! (hugs!) I said I'd try to get this chapter done by Monday night…It's 1:00 AM on Tuesday morning, so I missed the deadline by an hour XD.
C'mon, y'all! I KNOW you're out there! Leave a review! Please!
Chapter 9
A blink of an eye
Mikhail was gone
A gunshot from directly behind him
A scream.
A spatter of hot, wet crimson spraying him
A dull thud just beside him.
Ruliano, the mob boss that had held Maloof captive for two years now lay dead on the floor at Maloof's feet. The exit wound from a bullet was clearly visible on the man's head. He had been shot in the back of the head from behind. Immediately, members of the Russian mafia began scrambling out the door.
Maloof could feel the assailant's body heat as the assailant positioned himself to shadow Maloof's stance; their bodies mere centimeters from touching. Maloof could feel the assailant's warm breath on his neck.
"My business here is done. Now I can turn my time to pleasure." A deep, low, husky voice whispered with sadistic mirth. Maloof felt a familiar hot mouth press briefly against his neck, ripping a shudder from Maloof's body. "This ends tonight, my love."
Maloof wanted to react; but he didn't know how. Ruliano was dead. Did this mean that Maloof was free? Could he tell Mikhail the truth without endangering him and his family? Was there a possibility that Mikhail might take him back despite Maloof being so sullied? Could things possibly go back to the way they were before? Would Mikhail believe him? Would Mikhail care whether or not what Maloof had to say was true? Would he kill him anyway?
His racing mind was only made worse when he felt that familiar feeling of gentle lips on his neck and the soft, passionate whisper of his beloved. Maloof was so confused.
For a long moment, they both stood perfectly still. Maloof gave a sharp intake of breath when Mikhail lost patience and seized Maloof around his waist; his powerful arms constricting the smaller male tightly. Maloof was too shocked to even struggle.
"What's wrong with you, beloved? Why don't you struggle?" Mikhail breathed. Swiftly, Mikhail moved one hand up to hold Maloof's head still and with his other hand, he tore away one of the sleeves of Maloof's sweater. Mikhail slowly surveyed the bare skin of Maloof's arm before leaning close to Maloof to inhale his scent.
"Right here…" Mikhail whispered. He leaned over and kissed Maloof's bare arm gently. Both his and Maloof's breathing was growing ragged from the heat of the moment. Mikhail grabbed Maloof's hand and guided it to rest on Mikhail's arm.
"It's where you shot me." Mikhail whispered. Maloof's breathing hitched when he felt Mikhail's tongue trace his ear briefly. "It really hurt you know."
Maloof shuddered when he felt one of Mikhail's hands trail up his stomach and the other up his arm slowly in a ghost-light touch.
"That bullet right up my arm and shattered my very heart and soul..." Mikhail whispered. Both of his hands lightly grazed Maloof's chest right over his heart before slowly trailing back down to restrain him.
"That fateful shot killed Misha, you know. That bleeding heart ex-partner of yours; that naïve, Psychonaut poster boy wannabe…he's dead now. Only I, Mikhail Bulgakov, the bounty hunter remains; and let me tell you; thanks to you, I'm the most heartless son of a bitch ever to take up the business." Mikhail said with a sneer.
"I suppose you've made quite an impression on me, my love. You are my inspiration. I would not be what I am today if it were not for you." Mikhail said.
"Which is why I'm going to return that fateful shot with interest; don't you understand? Why don't you resist me? Don't you know I'm going to kill you, beloved?" Mikhail asked.
"Y-yes…" Maloof breathed.
"How disappointing that you won't even put up a fight!" Mikhail scoffed. In a flash, Maloof felt the barrel of Mikhail's gun against his arm in the very same spot that Mikhail had been shot two years before. There was a deafening bang and Mikhail shoved Maloof away from him roughly. Maloof stumbled and fell to his knees in a daze. Blood was flowing freely down Maloof's arm from the spot where Mikhail had pressed his gun against Maloof's skin.
Maloof stared dumbly at the wound in his arm. Then, he heard Mikhail's gun cock. He looked up only to find himself staring down the barrel of Mikhail's gun.
"Do you understand now that I am going to kill you?" Mikhail asked calmly. He lashed out at Maloof with a brutal kick. Out of sheer instinct, Maloof dove and rolled out of the way. Mikhail let out a hearty laugh.
"That's more like it!" Mikhail cried, again, turning his gun on Maloof. He opened fire. Maloof dove again and rolled right out the door. Mikhail cursed and ran into the hall after him. He got to the door just in time to see Maloof jump out a window. Mikhail followed.
Maloof found that he couldn't move near as quickly as he usually could due to his rapid blood loss from the wound in his arm. Already, his vision was starting to blur. The alleyway seemed to be lurching this way and that all around him.
The feeling was surreal. Maloof had always known in the back of his mind that this day would come. In his darker times, he even prayed for it. The day when Mikhail would take his vengeance. It was finally here. The day that Maloof would be released from his misery and Mikhail would at last find peace.
Tonight, Mikhail was really going to kill him. This was the real thing.
He heard gunfire from behind him and created a shield of psychic energy around himself just in time to save himself from the barrage of bullets.
I've been waiting for this...so why am I fighting it?
In a flash of red, Maloof's shield was broken and he stumbled backward, disoriented. Mikhail wasted no time in advancing toward Maloof to strike him down with a well-placed kick to the side of the head.
He didn't stop there. He brought his elbow down hard on Maloof's shoulder, slammed his knee into Maloof's chest, delivered a swift, merciless dropkick to Maloof's back, and threw his shoulder into Maloof's side.
Maloof slumped boneless to the ground, coughing blood. Mikhail loomed over Maloof maliciously.
"You will beg for death before I am through with you…" Mikhail whispered.
"Please kill me." Maloof whispered. This caught Mikhail by surprise.
"W-wha…" Mikhail stammered.
"Please…I want you to kill me. I'm begging you now. Do it. Kill me. Please." Maloof breathed.
It only took a moment for Mikhail to regain his composure. He scowled at Maloof and kicked him so that he was lying on his back. He straddled Maloof's waist and pinned Maloof's hands above his head with one arm. He moved his other hand to rest on Maloof's neck.
Maloof wasn't resisting. This made Mikhail hesitate.
"What are you waiting for? Do it. Kill me." Maloof whispered hoarsely. He closed his eyes and waited for it to all be over.
He winced when he felt Mikhail's grip tighten on his neck; but it wasn't enough to hurt him. Mikhail remained like that for a few long moments. He seemed unsure. Maloof opened his eyes.
Why was Mikhail hesitating?
Mikhail let out a growl and yanked Maloof roughly to his feet before wrapping both hands around Maloof's neck and lifting him up off of the ground.
Maloof squeezed his eyes shut as his neck was constricted to the point where he couldn't breathe. He felt his limbs growing heavy and his chest began to ache. In less than a minute, he would loose consciousness. In less than two minutes, it would all be over.
Maloof couldn't be happier. After all; he was, technically, in Mikhail's arms. It seemed as though his luck was finally starting to shine through. His death wasn't nearly as horrific as he had imagined Mikhail would make it. He couldn't help the small smile that tugged at his lips and the tears that streamed down his cheeks as he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness.
He was very surprised when the pressure constricting his neck suddenly vanished. He felt himself drop until his feet touched the ground and a pair of strong arms was wrapped around his waist. He coughed and gasped for breath.
What was Mikhail doing? Why was he letting up?
Before he could regain his bearings, the arms that were holding him up promptly vanished and he was backhanded across the cheek so roughly that he fell backwards and ran into a wall.
Maloof noted that, in his last hour or so of life, he should make a note not to count his chickens before they hatched. It seemed that Mikhail wasn't done yet. Maloof was right in his original assumption that his death would not come quickly or painlessly.
He was dragged away from the wall and to his feet by the neckline of his shirt. His vision was becoming just sharp enough that he could see that he was looking into Mikhail's eyes.
"God damn it…" Mikhail hissed, staring into Maloof's eyes. Maloof froze, staring back into Mikhail's eyes meekly; trying to assess what Mikhail might be up to.
"Why the hell can I not kill you?!" Mikhail yelled, shaking Maloof. Maloof's eyes went wide. He stared into Mikhail's eyes with disbelief; like a deer caught in the headlights of a semi-truck.
"Why can't I do it?!" Mikhail growled.
A few moments later, Mikhail let out a crazed laugh.
"FUCK THIS!" Mikhail shouted. Seconds later, he pulled Maloof to his chest and captured Maloof's lips with his own.
The two didn't break apart until both of them felt that they would pass out unless they broke for air. Maloof continued to stare incredulously at Mikhail after they broke apart.
Tears streamed down his cheeks. There were tears slipping down Mikhail's cheeks as well. Mikhail's eyes bored into Maloof's with bitterness and forlorn longing.
"What's happening? Am I dreaming? Is this real? Am I going insane? Is he toying with me?" Maloof thought to himself.
"You fucking bastard…why did you have to go and make me love you so damn much…I just can't kill you…I need you, god damn it!" Mikhail sobbed softly, pulling Maloof close to his chest and laid his head on top of Maloof's head. Maloof's heart soared. For a long moment, they stayed like that.
Suddenly, without warning, Mikhail shoved Maloof away from him. Without Mikhail's support, Maloof fell backwards and ran into the wall. He fell to his knees, staring up at Mikhail with confusion. Mikhail reached for his gun and held it up. Maloof paled dramatically.
He was toying with me…this is it…
Maloof was immensely surprised when Mikhail tossed the gun so that it landed beside Maloof. Maloof stared back and forth from the gun to Mikhail. Mikhail raised his arms in surrender.
"Well? What are you waiting for? Don't you get it? I can't kill you, you bastard! You've won! I can't fight you any more. I give up!" Mikhail spat, hatred radiating from his body and tears streaming down his cheeks.
"So?! KILL ME!" Mikhail roared, making Maloof jump. More tears leaked from Maloof's eyes. Slowly, with shaking hands, Maloof picked up the gun. He stared at it for a long moment before tossing it aside.
"Why are you asking me ta kill ya? You're s'pose to be the strong one! If you can't kill me, what the hell makes you think I can kill you, yuh dumb fuck!?" Maloof asked. Mikhail raised an eyebrow at him.
"You shot me before! Why the hell can't you do it again!?" Mikhail asked.
"Yeah?! Well, you didn't have a problem shooting me a few minutes ago yourself either!" Maloof said, pointing to the gunshot wound in his arm. Mikhail rolled his eyes.
"Would you just shut the fuck up and kill me already?!" Mikhail cried.
"I can't!" Maloof growled.
"Why the hell not?! Just do what you did the first time, only aim for my head, dumbass!" Mikhail groaned.
"I can't! Besides, technically, I never shot you to begin with. It was Danny who fired the damn shot, because I didn't have the guts to do it!" Maloof grumbled, a deep, ashamed blush blossoming over his face. There was a long silence between Mikhail and Maloof. They looked up into each other's eyes. Then, after a long moment, they both burst into laughter.
"How can you not shoot me? The gun's right there! You're pathetic!" Maloof said, pointing to the discarded gun.
"Well, you can't seem to shoot me either; so you're one to talk!" Mikhail said. Maloof shrugged.
"I guess that makes us both pathetic screw ups." Maloof said. They paused and stared into each others eyes. A moment later, they both blushed and looked away.
"Man…listen to us arguing like this…" Maloof said softly.
"Just like we used to do." Mikhail added softly. There was a long silence between them as they both looked up at the stars. Mikhail turned back to Maloof with a wary expression.
"How can we be doing this?" Mikhail asked haughtily. "Acting like we used to?"
"I don't know…" Maloof said softly. "I-I suppose…"
"I suppose it's because…somehow…even with all that's happened…we're still in love with one another." Maloof said quietly. A light blush blossomed across his cheeks and tears were welling in his eyes again. Mikhail stood there completely frozen; staring wide eyed at Maloof. Realization donned on Mikhail.
Slowly and hesitantly, he walked up to Maloof and knelt in front of him.
"S-so…y-you do still have feelings for me?" Mikhail whispered. Maloof let out a soft sob and buried his face in his knees.
"I never stopped being in love with you in the first place, Mikhail!" Maloof sobbed. Tears were beginning to slip down Mikhail's cheeks once again.
"But all those things you said…" He whispered. A small smile tugged at his lips. He chuckled softly.
"Come to think of it…I can't really say in all honesty that I ever actually stopped being in love with you, either…" Mikhail said softly.
"But how can that be?! After all I did to you!?" Maloof snapped, looking up at Mikhail.
Then, for the first time in two years Mikhail Bulgakov, Maloof's partner and soul mate, smiled; and for the first time in two years, every star in the universe flared to life and sparkled out from the midnight blue depths of the eyes of Maloof Canola, Mikhail's partner and soul mate.
"You never really wanted to do any of that." Mikhail said, somehow knowing that it was true.
Maloof bit back a soft sob and threw his arms around Mikhail's neck and pressed his lips to Mikhail's. Mikhail was a bit stunned at first, but it didn't take long for him to return the kiss with great vigor. He slipped his arms around Maloof's waist, pulling him close to his chest and fingered Maloof's soft curls.
"THERE HE IS!" A voice shouted from the north opening of the alleyway.
"HE'S STRANGLING BULGAKOV!" Another shouted. Mikhail recognized the voices as members of the Russian mafia.
"HE'S ALREADY WHACKED THE BOSS! NOW HE'S GONNA KILL CANOLA!" Another voice shouted from the south opening of the alleyway. Maloof recognized the voice as one of the Italian Mafiosi.
"TAKE HIM OUT!" Voices from both ends of the alleyway hollered.
"NO! MALOOF! MIKHAIL, STOP!" Cried a familiar voice. Benny ran into view of the south opening just in time to witness gunfire erupt from both ends of the alleyway. From the north end, the Russian Mafiosi and from the south end, the Italian Mafiosi.
Benny let out a horrified cry and jumped on the nearest gunman. He let out a cry of pain as a bullet buried itself into his shoulder. He fell to the ground, clutching the wound and was kicked into a wall by one of the Italian Mafiosi. Benny now lay motionless on the ground.
"BENNY!" Raz cried as he at last made it onto the scene. He summoned up all the power he could muster and sent the Italian Mafiosi flying. The Russian Mafiosi on the other side of the alleyway saw Raz's amazing display of power and ran.
"Oh he-hell yeah…y-you-you'd better run…" Raz panted before falling to his knees. Everything around him was blurry. He couldn't see anything. He felt light headed. He fought will all his might to stay awake; to get up and carry out his mission; but to no avail.
The last conscious memory he had were of the sound of a car screeching to a stop nearby and a familiar voice scream his name.
Thisisthelinethatmeansthesceneischangingthisisthelinethatmeansthesceneischanging
"Beautiful, Yolanda. I think it looks splendid." Fred said, examining the piece of artwork that was sitting before him. A woman in a white asylum gown sat across the table from him, meekly scrutinizing Fred for any sign that he was lying. She twisted a lock of her long, curly blonde hair around her finger.
"I'm especially fond of the magenta cat in the corner there." Fred said, pointing out the shape in the painting. The woman looked surprised.
"Really?" she asked. "Everyone else just thinks my art is weird and makes no sense."
Fred walked over and knelt next to the woman. He put a hand on her shoulder and looked her in her eyes with a gentle smile.
"True…your artwork is different from anything I've ever seen; however…I know you've probably had this said to you before; but you are a very special person, Yolanda. Your life experiences give you a unique perspective on things; and I believe that it is that unique perspective that you possess that really sets you apart from the crowd. You express it so vividly in your artwork, and in such a beautiful way. From color schemes to simple shapes, your artwork is truly your own. It is a wholly unique style that you've created. It is a genre of your own making. To me, your artwork isn't weird or nonsense. It is an expression of your outlook and it tells a story; that's what makes it so beautiful." Fred said. The woman stared at Fred.
"You know…there's something about you that makes me want to believe what you say." The woman said softly. Fred chuckled and held up his hands in surrender.
"Well, don't be too hasty to take my critique on artwork! I am no professional…but I am good friends with one…I think he would be most interested in seeing your work. Have you ever heard of Edgar Teglee?" Fred asked. The woman's jaw dropped.
"Y-Y-You know THE Edgar Teglee?!" She whispered. Fred chuckled and nodded.
"Yes. At one time, I was the orderly in charge of his care. I was also one of his fellow inmates…" Fred chuckled, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "Anyway, He's coming to Paris for Christmas. He always does art sessions with the patients here during the Christmas holidays. I'll see to it that you get to meet him while he's here."
"Oh, Thank you, Fred!" The woman breathed.
"Speaking of crazy old friends…I'd better get going. I wouldn't want to miss Boyd's exam." Fred said. "I'll see you tomorrow, Yolanda."
"Goodbye, Fred! Be safe!" The woman said. Fred jumped when a soft chuckle sounded from just beside him as he walked into the hall.
"You're so good with them, Fred." Said a cheerful voice. The cheer was only a mask to hide the underlying malice. Fred turned to find himself looking at a man in his mid thirties. He wore a black suit with the Psychonauts logo pinned to his lapel. His short, neatly combed hair was some astonishing, but natural shade of fire-engine red. His eyes were the same intense shade of red as they gleamed up at Fred from behind those gold framed oval glasses.
Danger lurked just behind those eyes; Fred knew it; but Fred just smiled pleasantly at the man.
"Grand Head Lerio! This is a surprise. What brings you to this humble hospital?" Fred asked. The man quirked a brow and smiled.
"I heard it told that you had worked your magic once again and gotten that woman to open up a little, Professor Doctor Bonaparte." Lerio said, motioning to the room that Fred had just exited.
"It's far from magic, sir, but yes. Yolanda is starting to come back out of her shell." Fred said.
"Has she mentioned anything about the DigitalDreamer Corp. scandal?" Lerio asked.
"One step at a time, sir. Before we can delve into the details, Yolanda needs to work through the trauma of witnessing all her co-workers being murdered." Fred said.
"So she hasn't mentioned anything about the scandal?" Lerio said, slightly disappointed.
"Well, she did say something about some guy named Hodyai. Does the name mean anything to you?" Fred asked. Lerio nodded, a small, gleeful smirk coming to his face. Apparently, this information pleased him.
"Sure does. He's the CEO under our main perp." Lerio said. "Did she say anything else?"
"No. She just mentioned Hodyai having a laptop and a keycard." Fred said.
"Perfect. This information is most helpful." Lerio said, obviously pleased. Fred crossed his arms and stared at Lerio with a small smirk.
"Now, Mr. Lerio…I refuse to believe that the Grand Head of the Psychonauts himself would come all the way down here just to check on Yolanda; however sweet a woman Yolanda is." Fred said. "Why did you really come?"
Lerio smirked.
"You don't miss a beat, do you? I'm surprised you even have to ask that question, Mr. Bonaparte." Lerio said casually. "Of course, I'm here to see you."
"Well, here I am." Fred said. He knew what was coming next.
"Come now, Mr. Bonaparte. Don't play coy. You know what I want." Lerio said. He put a hand on Fred's arm.
"You are the best of the best, Mr. Bonaparte. At age 24 you had already surpassed the skills of agency's best psychiatrists. You are young, handsome, wealthy, distinguished, and have a heart of gold and a mind sharp as a tack. The agency needs someone with your image! Your popularity! Your god-given skill!" Lerio said.
"Sir, I'm flattered, but I'm not even a psychic!" Fred chuckled. Lerio raised an eyebrow at Fred; locking his intense gaze on him. Lerio looked curious.
"Are you quite certain about that?" Lerio asked slowly. This caught Fred by surprise. His front faltered.
"What do you mean?" Fred asked. Lerio looked surprised now.
"Have you never considered the possibility? With your incredible skill and understanding of the workings of the mind?" Lerio asked.
"You've got mental defenses unlike any I've ever seen. Most of my agents don't have your kind of defensive strength. According to the report file on the incident with Oleander at Whispering Rock; Agent Sasha Nein himself couldn't break your defenses. Agent Aquato was the only one who could; and Agent Aquato had the strongest standing defensive capabilities of anyone in the agency recorded at the time." Lerio said.
"So…you've attempted to break into my mind and have read my confidential personal file." Fred said, his eyes narrowing slightly. Lerio smirked and shrugged. Fred did his best to remain composed.
"Why does it concern you? Have you perhaps something to hide?" Lerio asked.
"Not at all. Forgive me for being so blunt, but I wouldn't trust you or anyone you call a friend as far as I could throw you. I know that you don't like it when you don't get your way." Fred said. Lerio feigned a hurt expression.
"Oh…that was cold. Did you pick that up from that Social Scientist Tripe; or did he get it from you?" Lerio asked. Fred's expression darkened.
"I don't appreciate you speaking ill of Vernon; nor do I appreciate the way you've been harassing him." Fred said. Lerio shrugged nonchalantly.
"He's just as stubborn as you are…though quite less tolerant. Frustrating, really. I offer him a clean slate and he slams the door on the agent I sent to see him; and now he's gone and run off someplace." Lerio said.
"I can't say I blame him." Fred said. Lerio chuckled.
"Yes. You and he are a lot alike. You're both brilliant at what you do and you're both terribly stubborn…and you know, I heard something interesting the other day…It would seem that you're both gay as well." Lerio said. It took everything in Fred's power to remain stoic.
"Say what?" Fred asked with an amused chuckle.
"I heard you were seeing the UPS man or something like that." Lerio chuckled. "You were at some gay bar with him or something. I've also heard he's an ex-patient of yours as well…what a scandal!"
Fred quirked a brow.
"Well, I'd love to stay and chat about sexual orientations and learn more about what you've learned from stalking Vernon and I; but you've just reminded me that I have a previous engagement." Fred said with a smile.
"Oh? Do you now?" Lerio asked, raising an eyebrow at Fred.
"Yes sir. My alleged 'boyfriend' is going to go from UPS man to his dream of being a Police man; and I am going to be there to cheer him on." Fred said. "So, I'm sorry, sir, but I must decline your proposal and be on my way. Have a nice day!"
Fred was about to start back down the hall when a gigantic blonde haired man came thundering down the hall, yelling loudly. He practically tackled Fred to the ground. Fred coughed, winded.
"Oh, I sowy, Fwed! Vewy sowy." The man mumbled sheepishly, effortlessly picking Fred up off of the floor and setting him back on his feet.
"It's okay, Gerald." Fred said, patting the man on the head. "Why the rush?"
"I heared that Fwed was leaving early today, so I comed to give you a hug before you left." The man said with a large grin. He pulled Fred into a bear hug, lifting the tall Frenchman clear off his feet before setting him back down again. Fred chuckled, trying to catch his breath, and patted the man on the back.
"Right. I had almost forgotten to give you a hug before I left. Thank you for reminding me." Fred said. The man grinned from ear to ear.
"Well, I must be off now. Yolanda is in the art room. Why don't you go keep her company?" Fred suggested.
"Okay! I will draw you a picture of a Christmas tree to put in your office for Christmas!" The man said.
"That would be lovely, Gerald." Fred said with a gentle smile. "I'll see you tomorrow!"
The man waved goodbye to Fred before dashing into the art room. Fred chuckled to himself and straightened out his clothes. Then, he remembered that Lerio was still there. Lerio was standing in the same spot smiling at Fred in a manor that was most unnerving.
"My, my, my…he lifted you up as though you were nothing more than a toy. He is frighteningly strong." Lerio said. Fred suppressed the urge to shudder at Lerio's tone; but smiled anyway.
"Who, Gerald? Yes, he is quite the powerhouse; but I've been working with him. He's gotten a lot better at controlling his strength. He's got a spirit that's as gentle as a kitten." Fred chuckled. He glanced down at his watch.
"Well, I really must be off. Good day to you, Grand Head Lerio." Fred said before taking off down the hall. Lerio remained where he was with that unnerving smirk on his face.
Interesting. Very interesting. I have learned much about you today. Your compassion is moving, Bonaparte. I think I can exploit that. You'll accept my offer eventually.
Lerio heard the large man yelp from the art room. He was about to start crying when Lerio looked in. He was holding a broken crayon. Yolanda was consoling him and handing him a new crayon; which made Gerald feel much better. Again, Lerio smirked.
Gentle as a kitten, huh? Well, kittens have a tendency to scratch and bite when they play…sometimes, they don't know their own strength…
The mentally unstable can have surprisingly violent tendencies under the right…circumstances. Bonaparte is far too trusting…it would be an absolute tragedy if that trust got him hurt…
Thisisthelinethatmeansthesceneischangingthisisthelinethatmeansthesceneischanging
Fred shuddered and rubbed his arms as he ran down the street toward the police academy. Fred and Lerio had a mutual dislike of one another; and they both knew it. Phoebe was right to fear for Fred's safety; because people who opposed Lerio had a funny way of finding tragedy.
Lerio was a real snake in the grass. Fred knew that; but he couldn't help but wonder about what Lerio had said about him being psychic. Lerio seemed genuine about it; but then again, Lerio was…well…Lerio. Fred pushed the though to the back of his mind.
Today was Boyd's day. Fred could discuss it with him later.
Fred met up with Boyd as Boyd was leaving the locker room. He looked pale. It was obvious that he hadn't gotten much sleep; but seeing Fred there seemed to take a lot of Boyd's stress away. He smiled cheerfully at Fred as he approached.
"Hey, Fred. I was starting to think you weren't coming." Boyd said.
"What? Come on, Boyd. You know I wouldn't miss this for the world!" Fred said. Boyd smiled.
"Yeah…I guess it's just nerves." Boyd said. Fred put a hand on Boyd's shoulder.
"Some person who's name escapes me once said that if you aren't nervous, then you aren't talented." Fred said. (A/N: thanks for the quote, Sophie!) "You're going to do fine."
"I hope so." Boyd said.
"Well, I know so!" Fred said. Boyd smiled sheepishly.
"How'd the written test go?" Fred asked.
"You know…I actually think I did pretty well on it!" Boyd said. Fred patted Boyd on the back.
"That's the spirit. Besides; by the time I was done quizzing you last night, you knew the material front and back." Fred said.
"And you obviously haven't slept since then." Fred teased. Boyd chuckled.
"You got that right." Boyd said.
"Or eaten." Fred said smugly, pulling a brown bag out of his satchel. Boyd stared at Fred in astonishment for a moment before bursting into laughter.
"Fred, it is scary how well you know me." Boyd said, taking the back from Fred.
"Turkey and Swiss on wheat with mayo, mustard, and BBQ sauce. Yeah. I'd say I know you pretty well." Fred said. Boyd sighed and hugged Fred.
"I love you, Fred…" He sighed. Fred couldn't help but blush. Boyd hadn't noticed. He was now too busy with his lunch.
TO BE CONTINUED…
…okay, so I end with a warm and fuzzy hug between Fred and Boyd. Meanwhile, half of the rebellion is getting their brains blown out all over the sidewalk by the Mafia in a cliché dark ally on a cold, dreary winter night in New Jersey….
God, please let the Mikhail-Maloof scene in this chapter be better than that god-awful piece of shit I put in Loyalties and Where They Lie…
Anyway; Lerio has finally made his big debut! It would seem that he has some dark plans concerning Fred…
What has Lerio got in store for Fred? Could Lerio be right about Fred being a psychic, or is it one of his mind games? Will Boyd pass his exam? Have I gone and off'd one or more of our New Jersey delegation?
Find out in the next installment of Up Against the World!
P.S: Come on, guys! Pleeeease review!? (puppy face) Each review gives Boyd the strength to run the obstacle course! Help Boyd become a police officer! Leave a review!