Chapter 12
Summary: There is paintball
The popping of the paint reverberated throughout the quad. Shirley and Devon plowed their way through a horde of students, managing to maneuver in such a way that was almost balletic, with Shirley gaining a newfound appreciation for Devon's athletic form.
It was obvious he had been keeping up with his physical therapy, for his leg muscles remained strong and toned. She had noticed this before of course, especially that awkward time she had tumbled upon him in the bath, but how she saw his muscles in action, and the way that man flew over the heads of their enemies and kicked a large gun out of a blonde's hand and then killed her while screaming in triumph was astounding.
They finally made it to the library, Shirley taking a sweet moment to blow onto the end of her gun after it had made a particularly satisfying kill. She smirked and turned to see a determined faced Devon cracking open the door with his shoulder while keeping his gun cocked and held to his shoulder. That man could multitask, and for so many reasons that was extremely attractive to her.
"Bennett, we need cover."
"I got this one." She shot off her last round, and then promptly followed him inside.
The thud of the heavy door brought them a moment of relief, which they took full advantage of and recharged their weapons from the paint clips they both had wrapped around their shoulders, having procured them from some of the dead lay strewn across the quad.
"That was a rush." Devon grinned and Shirley promptly leaned in and wiped some perspiration off his brow, both of them stunned for a moment before Shirley decided to own this.
As she handed Devon a bandana to wrap around his forehead to prevent future sweaty mishaps that she didn't want to ruin his aim, she explained, "I like a man who knows how to handle a situation."
"It's my police training. And um, balance from downhill skiing. It's amazing what combination of abilities I unleashed out there." He paused to lick his lips and continued, "Damn, that is one of the few times in the past couple years I've felt truly alive." His eyes were glistening with excitement as he tied his bandana, and Shirley nodded in complete understanding, her smile now wide.
"You get it now."
"I do."
Although part of her wanted to savor this moment, it was not the time for it. She snapped back into paintball mode.
"Good. Now we need to find a place to strategize, and if I'm right, which I usually am in these wars, I would say the rest of the group is probably already on their way from the motel. I bet he sent them some clue or message to get them here."
"He?"
"The mastermind. You'll see."
"Bennett, you're not talking about Jesus again are you? Because if so…"
A sound of popping paint fire came from down the corridor, so they needed to cut the conversation short and run, but Shirley made a mental note to not take any more sass from him before she'd kiss him.
xxxx
Finally ensconced in a study room with secured doors from some brooms they found in the custodial closet, Shirley found herself seated directly across from Devon as they sat cross legged on the floor under the table.
It was a matter of safety.
"As much as I don't like to play these situations too tame, it's best for us to wait a bit so more students kill each other off. Then we can swoop in and use the carcasses as shields."
Devon stared at her in wonder as he asked, "What on earth are they fighting so hard for?"
"I spotted a flier in a dead bitch's hand. It said something about "Play Paintball to get the Prize! Ten thousand dollars and a free cherry pie!"
Devon nodded somewhat incredulously and once again checked his ammo. Shirley suspected he was nervous, but from his form out there she didn't think he needed to be. But then again, she was fairly certain by now they could let all pretenses go, even the ones she had been holding on with herself.
It was time to let all of that nonsense go.
With some tentativeness, she whispered, "Devon. I'd never want to leave you, legs or no legs. You know that, right?"
He snapped his head up from his close inspections of his paint clips and regarded her with the purest blue eyes she had ever known. It must have tortured him to have lied to her, and she knew he meant no malice. She scooted closer and leaned her head against his free shoulder, letting out a contented sigh.
"I didn't know. Goddamn it, Bennett."
"I love you too."
There was a moment that seemed to last longer than a moment, a moment where they both held their breaths with the anticipation that can only ever be felt once a vulnerability is matched, a glorious and warm vulnerability that Shirley hadn't ever really known outside of prayer.
She lifted her head and her eyes met his. He smiled down at her, tears now freely falling and they had no other impulse than to continue to move toward each other until their lips met.
It was a sweet and earned glory that made Shirley feel completely safe in the middle of a war.
xxxxxx
They carefully stepped over the fallen, making their way toward the gang, as Shirley had spotted them in locked formation, guns raised and slowly walking toward the library where she and Devon had just emerged and then blasted the rest of the horde.
Jeff was in the lead and staring at them with amazement.
"Wow, guys, um, that was something to watch."
Devon half-roared as he was still on a high, "Did you see them go down?! That's what it means to mess with the Butcher and the Baker!" He turned and high-fived Shirley, who squealed with agreement.
Both Annie and Britta then leapt ahead with giggles and finally embraced Shirley in a group hug.
Abed, once again wearing his suit, was standing now somewhat off to the side, studying the landscape as he seemed to be calculating something.
Shirley's eyes were on Abed as she vaguely heard Jeff remark, "So, Detective. Abed was right? You can walk. Or did paintball jump start you?"
"Um, I've explained everything to Benett. It's a long story, but we're good."
"I'll bet you are. Is that Shirley's lip gloss on your neck?"
"Britta! Rude!"
But Shirely wasn't really listening. She calmly walked over to join Abed, the darkness of the campus lending a calm air to things now that there were no more sounds of popping paint.
"Sweetie, are you okay?"
"No one's won the game yet." He seemed concerned, his eyebrows moving together just so as he continued to scan the quad.
She placed one hand on his shoulder and said, "It's okay. You may shoot me if you want and then take out the rest. Just please do it swiftly so Devon doesn't suffer."
Abed turned to her and she swore there was a hint of a smile.
"Why would you let me win when you could kill me right this instant? We just saw what you and your blood lusty partner are capable of. Not that I didn't know, but this was a sober reminder, Shirley. I will not mess with you."
"It's obvious. It has to be you. I'm sure you figured it all out by now."
"I don't understand. We have to finish paintball and then rescue Audrey and the Dean. I'll step back ten paces and you do the same. The best man wins. And then they get to blast the rest."
She nodded her acceptance and decided best not to press the matter, as Abed was clearly still in this. She supposed she wouldn't have it any other way.
A minute later, her paint soaked body lying on the ground, she kept her eyes closed as she heard the blasts. She hoped Devon would forgive her.
