Chapter Nine

Preeeeeettttty Pleaaaaaaase REVIEWWWWWW!

I have ideas for a few chapters, so I'll most probably churn them out quickly, unless I tank my big research essay, and spend the next few weeks crying my eyes out.

If I owned the Alienverse Cameron would have had to Hicks-ify Vasquez and Drake also. But since that didn't happen, it's safe to assume I own noth.

Drake loved spending time at the gym. The treadmill was his friend, but the dumbbells were his buddies. He loved feeling the movement of his muscles and arms as he worked out. The natural way. Compared to the wanks who thought they were tough getting their muscles out of a bottle.

Speaking of wanks, one was giving him the stink eye from the elliptical.

Drake ignored him. The ignoring was not mutual.

The hulk sauntered over to him. Drake laid on his back, pushing steel, staring up at the boy leaning over him, into his space. Suddenly he started spouting all kinds of bullshit, in a nasally, annoying voice.

Drake continued his reps.

"Tell your fucking whore that if she thinks we're scared of her, she's got something else coming."

Drake's arm stilled.

The boy couldn't take a hint. "What? Huh? You just gonna sit there and take it? Fucking Pansy. Just like your bitc-"

He was cut off by the crunch of his own nose as a 30 lb dumbbell was shoved in his face.

Drake swore it was an accident. The boy just lent over a bit too much.

The guard watching the whole situation unfold didn't agree, and Drake was promptly placed in solitary confinement.

Drake tried to sleep in the tiny cell, on the cot that barely kept his legs in, but his thoughts kept him awake, along with the biting cold. It was freezing, even with all his clothes and shoes on.

He had always been protective of Jenette, at least for the two years he'd known her. He didn't regret breaking the boy's nose, and he certainly didn't regret defending her honor. But he knew his actions would eventually come back to bite both of them on the arse. And that, he'd regret.

They were troublemakers, always been and always will be. They could never be content with following the straight and narrow. Education, office job, marriage, kids: the whole white picket fence, American Dream. Too predictable, and not fun at all. Bound to eventually end in alcoholism. Just look at his divorced brother.

No, Drake didn't want that. But he was alright here. And that had to do, in some part, with Jenette's presence.

She made things exciting. Spicing his life up, she was the taco seasoning in a salad. Bad metaphor, but so very true.

But he was scared. When he got out, and it would be soon, she wouldn't be there. He would face a world of white pickets as the only stained one. Adult prison wasn't even for him, he just wasn't dark and crooked enough. Not a murderer, a rapist, or a drug dealer, but not perfectly perfect either. He had no place to fit in this crazy world, and no talents considered useful in a capitalist society. Or any society for that matter. He just felt so fucking worthless.

A tiny knock on the door abruptly cut him out of his musings.

"Drake, I'm breaking you out for the night." Jenette's voice was hardly audible through the heavy steel door. The clicking, however, let him know she was fiddling with the locks. Suddenly the door flung open, and there she stood, a halo of florescent light surrounding her.

An angel.

"Hurry up pendejo, before they catch us."

His foul mouthed angel.

She tossed him a coat.

They went to their makeshift shooting range. Which was just the roof of a abandoned wing of the jail. It was just far enough away from the main building for no one to hear the sound of them shooting blanks down at the nearby trees.

The night was bright, the stars pouring light from a clear, cloudless sky. The jail was located far from the city, into whatever little unpopulated country remained in SoCal. The higher altitude made the air fresher and cleaner compared to the urban sprawls. The area around the San Jacinto Mountains was particularly known for its cold and windy nights.

Especially tonight the high winds and blowing leaves didn't allow for the ideal practice conditions.

Jenette sighed, and tucked the weapon back in her boot after checking the safety.

"You know, you should really think of finding a better place to put that." Drake pointed out. "It doesn't look safe, all that jiggling about." Jenette rolled her eyes, ignoring his advice.

Drake walked over to the railing, looking down into the forest with interest. He could see some rustling about, and noticed a bobcat peek its head out of the trees. Looking up at him the animal cocked its head.

"Mark?" Jenette whispered, her voice soft.

He sharply turned to face her, and the bobcat took off. She surprised him too. Jenette hardly ever called him by his first name.

"I want to leave." She continued, voice tight. Jenette had a tough time expressing weakness. She preferred to hide her true emotions behind a grin. But Drake knew her well enough to know when she was hurting.

"Why? In just two years you'll be out of here, it's not a long time. Plus time flies so fast in here, with you." He smiled reassuringly. Inside all he could hear was that she wanted to leave him.

"You'll be gone in a year. And then it'll just seem like I'm wasting my life away. This place has nothing to offer me. That pointless fight for the respect I'll never gain here, helped me realize it." She sighed. "We are both just wasting our time. I want to see the world, travel, conquer..." She walked over to Drake, and leaned on the railing beside him. She turned her head up to the glittering night, studying the sky. "Explore the universe."

She wants the same things he does.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye. Her chestnut hair gave off blue and purple hues from the light pouring from the sky. Her lips quirked in a smirk as she turned to look at him.

"What are you staring at?"

You.

"You have a leaf caught in your afro." He ran his fingers through her hair, extricating the hapless leaf. He let his hand linger longer than necessary.

"That's fresh, coming from a snowman." She growled lightly, never dropping her smirk.

He dropped his arm to her shoulder, pulling her closer.

"Mark?"

"Hmm?"

"I want you to come with me."

His heart beat just a little bit faster as he asked the question that would determine their whole future. "Where?"

"I don't have the foggiest."

He snorted, raising an invisible eyebrow.

"I just want us to stay together." She explained. "We could be like those guys from that old film. You know, the one that takes place in Bolivia where they blow up a lot of things?"

Drake barks a laugh. "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid?"

"That's the one." She grinned.

"Didn't they die in the end...?"

She crossed her arms, pouting. "Cabron! They never showed that on the screen. They faced off that firing squad, guns a blazing."

"A'right Butch, whatever you say." Laughing, he crooked a grin.

Jenette punched him in the arm. "Go back to your cell."

"Oh, come on, don't be like that." He reached down and tickled her ribs. She batted his hand away.

"They're coming tomorrow, Drake." All seriousness returned.

"You mean..." He trailed off. His hand dropping to his side.

"Yeah, and I'm going to sign up."

How's it going? If you like stroke my ego and leave a comment, or criticism.

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid was actually preserved in the Library of Congress for being bloody fucking awesome. So it stands to reason that it would have survived 200 years into the future, and would still be considered a classic, like Shakespeare's plays.