Disclaimer: I don't own Saw, blah, blah, blah. The characters are not mine, blah, blah, blah. Except Gen and Jules! And Timothy. The new guy...*evil grin*
Thanks to MicroChips for being the second reviewer! Chloe (the writer) says thanks! x]
Quote of the Day:
"If you're from Africa, why're you white?"
"Coffee?"
Peter Strahm looked up from his magazine and shook his head. The pretty waitress smiled at him and walked off.
It was a week ago that he had decided to go on a solitary road trip, to see the world by himself. His grueling, monotonous separation from his boring, shapeless, unkempt dowdy excuse for a wife was a bit too much so he decided to put the proceedings on hold and get away.
Now, seven days later, he was sitting in a dingy diner on the side of a desert highway.
He was here to fill up his car with gas, buy a magazine and figure out his next move. He had done the first two but was having trouble working out where to go next. The former FBI agent heard the bell above the door tinkle as people entered and exited the diner, but this time the bell seemed a little louder.
He looked down at his reflective aviators, and in the frames he saw a distorted image of three women and two men walk in.
He whipped around to face them, his light eyes widening in shock.
"You five again…" he muttered to himself, choking on a piece of orange muffin.
His loud coughs must have attracted the five-some because in about two seconds flat they were all bundled into his booth.
"Sup, Straaaaaaahm?" chorused Juliet and Genevieve. They had an annoying habit of over extending the "a" sound in his name.
He cleared his throat and nodded at the two males.
"Hoffman. Kramer."
"Strahm," Hoffman mumbled, looking pointedly away.
"Strahm," John muttered, nodding at the other man.
"Straaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahm!" Gen mocked in a singsong voice.
He fought the urge to throw muffin at the redhead.
"What brings you out here then?" Hoffman enquired, picking at a muffin he had stolen from the plate.
"Escaping from "all that"," he explained dryly.
"'All that' being that man that you married?" Genevieve inquired, her small hand creeping toward the last muffin.
Taking a hold of the muffin, Strahm smirked at her.
"Possibly. Did you want this?"
"Um…duh?"
Strahm poked out his tongue, and in a very childish move, licked the top of the muffin and held it out to her.
"You still want it?"
Genevieve froze and glared at him.
"You twat! Let's see how you like it!" she reached for the coffee cup that was sitting on the table and ran her tongue around the edge, licking it excessively.
The rest of them watched in mute disbelief.
Strahm tried unsuccessfully to contain his smirk.
"You know," he began, holding back a laugh, "that was sitting there when I got here."
Genevieve halted her actions immediately. The colour drained from her face and she looked down at the cup, then back up to Strahm. She gagged and began to spit at the table, wiping her tongue with her hands.
Juliet screamed with laughter. Hoffman buried his face in his hands, giggling in a way that was somewhat undignified for a man of his stature. Amanda leant on Jules for support. She was laughing so hard that tears were streaking eyeliner down her face.
John simply stared at Strahm intensely before a slow smirk spread across his face.
"Revenge like that is so… tasteful. To me."
***
"I'm telling you now; it's quicker to get to the motel this way."
"No, that's a back road. The limit is 70. Go the highway."
"There are no police on freaking back roads!"
"Whatever Gen."
"Hate your face, Jules."
The rest of the group watched this conversation like a tennis match, all sets of eyes travelling back and forth until suddenly Strahm piped up.
"Who is… Who is that boy waving at you, girls?"
Genevieve and Juliet looked towards the small blonde boy waving frantically at them.
"Oh…"
"Snap…"
The name of that small blonde boy was Timothy Rice. Timothy was always "that boy" in high school. He was always drifting from group to group, trying to make friends but his insincere pseudo political speeches and sincere idiocy had made him hard to like.
Juliet had tried hard, so very hard, to be nice to him. But she never expected to see him after graduation, especially not out here.
Clenching her jaw into a smile, Juliet waved back stiffly and gripped Genevieve's hand.
"What the fuck do we do?" she mumbled through her teeth.
"Smile and wave, Jules. Smile, wave and hope he has better things to do than… Aw hell no, is he coming over here?"
"Fuck!"
"Crap!"
"Shit!"
"Bloody hell!"
"Motherfucker!"
Taking interest in this swear-fest, Hoffman wandered over to his two companions.
"What exactly is the cause for this, uh, arrant display of language?" he whispered, eyeing the approaching boy.
"We know him…" Gen began.
"From… high school," Jules finished. She took his hand and dug her long nails into it. "Help… us… or I will make this trip a living hell for you, the likes of which you cannot imagine. I will put hair removal cream in your shampoo, I will swap your clothes with John's, and I will give your shit away to homeless people. So help me, I will explain to you, in detail, every little thing about the menstrual cycle every night unless you do something!"
Understanding the serious nature of this threat, Hoffman leapt valiantly into action.
He ran over to Strahm, plucked his sunglasses from his face, gave a quick "I'll explain later" gesture, donned the glasses, ran back and slung his arm around Jules shoulder.
Timothy looked confused as he stared back and forth between Gen, Jules and Hoffman.
"Hey Geni, Jules…" Timothy trailed off. Gen twitched in anger at the use of her much-hated pet name that Timothy insisted on using. Hoffman bit his lip to prevent it from twitching into a smile.
This kid had the voice of a nine year old and by the looks of it, the face of one too.
The girls muttered a greeting and Jules cleared her throat.
"So," Timothy began. "Who's this then?"
Juliet froze up for a half a second before readjusting herself and wrapping an arm around Hoffman.
"This is Snake. He's my boyfriend." She avoided looking at Gen. They both knew that older, good-looking men really pissed Timothy off.
Timothy's eyes darted back and forth at a comically rapid pace for about thirty seconds or so.
"So…" Gen began. "What brings you out… here?"
"Oh, just taking a trip. But apparently this is as far as metropolitan bus routes go, so I either have to walk or go back."
'This kid is… retarded…'Hoffman thought. He towered over Timothy comically, and compared to his broad shouldered, statuesque build, Timothy looked… scrawny. Tiny. Bug like, even.
"So, Snake," Timothy piped up, jutting out his weedy chin. "What brings you out here?"
Jules dug her nails into Hoffman once more, but this time it was his sides that suffered.
"I…uh…" Hoffman cleared his throat and put on a "mean" look. "Had to blow town, ya know how it is… punk? Gotta lay low and… let all of it blow over. So I took Jules and told her we'd go travellin'. Just us and the open road…" he looked back at the rest of the crew quickly and then back at Timothy, "… and four or so friends..."
Jules pinched harder.
"And my gun!" he exclaimed, pulling the sleek black machine out of its holster. "Me and my gun, partners for life…uh…yeah…" Hoffman cleared his throat and looked down at Juliet. She nodded at him in approval. Timothy looked thoroughly disturbed and violently scared.
After about a minute of uncomfortable silence, Strahm wandered over and tapped Gen on the shoulder.
"Who's the kid?" he enquired, nodding at Timothy and slipping on a black leather jacket.
Genevieve's lips parted slightly at the sight of Strahm in a leather jacket, but nonetheless kept her cool.
"I'm nineteen and a half, thanks," Timothy muttered, obviously offended.
"Hm…" Strahm grunted, eyeing him suspiciously.
"Anyway," Timothy continued totally oblivious to everyone staring at him like he was a parasite, "could I hitch a ride with you guys?"
"Don't leave me alone with him," Gen whispered, clutching at Strahm.
"Of course!" Jules shouted with fake enthusiasm, "In fact, you get to ride with Gen!"
Gen looked sideways at her supposed best friend.
"I fucking hate you."
Jules and Hoffman walked away, laughing quietly. As Timothy ran over to the rest of the group and introduced himself loudly, eliciting many confused and possibly homicidal expressions, Strahm laughed at Genevieve.
"Ahhh… tough luck, getting stuck with Mr. Midget ADHD," he sighed in faux commiseration.
"Don't laugh," Gen began, a devious smile spreading across her lips. "Because me and Tim are going to have a blast… keeping you company while you're driving!" She patted him on the arm and walked away. He stared after her.
What the hell had he gotten himself into?
***
"I don't like Snake." Timothy announced within five seconds of pulling onto the road.
Genevieve was sitting in the front seat. She had kicked off her shoes and was resting her forehead against her knees.
The engine of Strahm's "67 Chevy Impala purred beneath her as he rapidly accelerated to catch up to the other car. They had left late because Timothy insisted on getting his own bottle of water. Timothy didn't drink un-bottled water unless he was at his mother's house, apparently.
Strahm was speechless in disbelief at the boy.
"He's shifty looking," Tim continued on, unprompted.
"Oh Tim, why, why?!" Genevieve cried into her knees.
Unaffected by her outburst, Tim craned forwards so his head was between Strahm and Gen's seats.
"He carries a gun, his name is Snake and… how old is he anyway?"
"I don't know, Tim," Gen said, searching for ways to silence him. "Thirty or forty something?"
"Exactly!" He exclaimed as though he had made an epic point. "Julie's only twenty, she should be careful. I always told her that she should be cautious. She's too fiery. Too opinionated. Just too out there for her own good. Personally I think that if she knows what's good for her she'll break up with him. I mean, come on! How far can it really go? He'll be dead before she's his age! I don't think she's thinking clearly…" He sat back in his seat and continued talking at a rapid pace. Strahm gripped the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white.
"Come here," he whispered to Genevieve. She craned closer to him so that their faces were almost touching. He looked sideways at her. "If he doesn't shut up soon, I'm actually going to hit him. Make it stop, Gen. Do something, anything!" he whispered rapidly as Timothy went on and on, unaware of the events happening not one metre from him.
"What am I meant to do, beat him into submission?" she replied in a similar whisper.
Strahm's sideways look turned into a rather seductive sideways smirk.
"You can use your own discretion and I won't have seen a thing," he informed her.
She turned her head to the side and stared at Tim. He saw her close proximity to Strahm and opened his mouth in shock.
"Oh no! Not you too, Geni!" he cried out like a five year old who had lost a toy.
She collapsed back into her seat, her hand over her forehead.
"Lord, give me strength!" she whimpered.
He continued on his lecture, but now he had fuel for his argument.
"Is he always this bad?" Strahm said openly, now that he knew the boy was obviously impervious to everything around him while rambling.
"Worse," Genevieve informed him. "Much worse. You have no idea how bad he was, especially around Jules. He was kind of clingy and… Oh, let's not even go there."
From her vantage point, Gen could quite literally stare at Strahm. Even though "Snake" still had his sunglasses, he still looked, well…hot.
And, from what she could gather while she leant across to him, he smelt really good too.
Kind of musky, with an oaky finish.
Like a…lawyer cowboy.
"So, how long do you reckon you're going to stay with us?" Gen inquired, trying to perve on him through his jacket.
"Until I get bored. But knowing you, that won't happen too soon."
"Oh, you can be sure of that…" she muttered, imagining how it would feel to rip the jacket (and the rest of his clothing) off of him.
"Hm?" he said, turning his eyes to her.
"Uh… I… nothing."
"Gen!" Timothy shouted. "Stop staring at him like that!"
Gen faltered and looked back at Timothy with a violent glint in her eye.
"What… did you just say, Tim?" she said slowly, her hands balling into fists.
"You keep looking him up and down like you want to rape him! It's disgusting and it's making me uncomfortable. God Gen, why him?! He's like a hundred years old!"
Genevieve looked in wide-eyed shock at Strahm as he stared at her for a second. Timothy went back to rambling with renewed fervor. Strahm pushed a few buttons on the CD player and turned up the volume dial to full. Loud rock guitar filled the car, hindering Timothy's voice.
"Thank you!" Genevieve mouthed to Strahm.
"Any time," he mouthed back, winking at her.
Oh yeah. She thought, tapping her knee in time to the drums. This is going to be fun.
Another chapter and a bunch more to come! Reviews much appreciated! Oh, and cookies to whoever can tell me where the 'Lawyer-Cowboy' quote is from.