E.V. Darcy

Author, Fangirl, Geek

[evdarcy]

An Unusual Hero C12S3

Please remember, this is unedited and unfinished, but will hopefully fill in the holes that were left and answer some questions without leaving too many others. HOWEVER I will answer all and any questions if you want to leave me a comment.

Next update - Tuesday 20/07/2021

Luc kept his head down, trying to remain inconspicuous. Although it was rather hindered by the fact he kept shuffling from one foot to the other as he played with his phone. He was scrolling through the menus on the ancient device to find the games—he’d been the master of Snake way back when, could even do it one handed.

His brow furrowed in concentration as he tried to manoeuvre the black line around the screen to gobble up the square. Why the hell had he ever gotten rid of his original phone? This was way better than the newer—

The snake ate itself pretty quickly. He sighed and shoved the phone deep into his jacket pocket. He’d probably have plenty of time to practice while they traipsed around the damn country.

He glanced over his shoulder, towards the post office and saw the couple that had followed him all the way from the coffee shop staring back from the window. The two were pointing and gesturing towards him as if explaining their suspicions to someone else.

He tugged the brim of his cap lower over his eyes and turned back to the road watching for the rental car. When he spied the black SUV turning onto the street, he jogged down the sidewalk to stop Sarah before the mystery pair would be able to see the car from the store’s window. He didn’t want them capturing the plates.

‘Don’t go further down—’

His sentence died in his throat as he opened the car’s door and saw Sarah sat within. She had ditched the jacket and the tight fitting dress showed the swell of her breasts very well. The skirt had risen up her legs as she had shifted gears—she’d insisted on a manual car ever since the Excel—and he could see her creamy skin peeking from between its hemline and her lacy stocking-tops. He licked his lips at the idea of sliding the skirt up a little more, running his hands over that smooth skin as she lay beneath him—

‘Hey, I’m up here,’ she said flatly. He met her gaze, her raised brows daring him to… say something? Do something? He was certain she’d have no objections to him if he tried it on with her. Hell, she’d probably welcome it, spread her legs wide for him while he climbed up and—

He cleared his throat before he spoke, climbing into the car with his gaze averted. ‘Don’t go further down the street. Turn it around and head back down that way. They definitely recognised me.’

Sarah swore under her breath as she pulled away, completing a one-eighty in the road. Luc turned in his seat, his eyes focused on the post office waiting to see what the couple might do. Just before Sarah swung the car around the corner, a uniformed police officer stepped out from the store, speaking into his radio, followed by the couple pointing after the disappearing car.

Fuck! It was worse that he thought.

‘I told you the cap was a bad idea—’

‘But in a place like that, even without the beard and with the hair cut, you’re bound to be noticed. The cap was supposed to help!’

‘I tried to tell you,’—he tore the hat from his head and threw it on the backseat—‘I did a campaign last summer for Cap-Locked Caps. I was all over the place in the fucking things!’

‘God-fucking-dammit!’ Sarah shouted as she smacked the stirring wheel with her hand. Luc shrank back in his seat, waiting for the slap of a hand, or thump of a fist, across his chest… Maybe she’d punch him across the jaw. At a red light, she’d just unbuckle her seatbelt and go to town on him?

‘We’ll head back to Salt Lake and return the car,’ she said after a few moments of silence. ‘I’ll have to go somewhere else, this time as Hillary, to hire one. That wasn’t part of the plan.’

‘I tried to tell you,’ he said quietly as they pulled onto the I-15 and headed North towards the state’s capital.

‘It’s not your fault,’ Sarah sighed as she pulled the dark wig from her head. ‘I shouldn’t have been so pigheaded. I should have listened. And I’m sorry for shouting.’

Luc’s swallowed at the apology, reminding himself that this wasn’t Linda. Sarah and proved time and time again she wasn’t the type to lash out. She barely touched him and even then it was never anything more than a hand on his arm or shoulder.

She glanced at him, giving him a tentative smile, but he just continued to stare at her. The smile dropped from her face and slowly turned into a frown at his continuing silence. ‘What?’

He shook his head and turned away, afraid that he might spill all his secrets if he spoke now. He’d already revealed far more to her than he wanted.

He watched the mountains, their tops dusted with snow—crisp, white, and untouched—fly by as they sped off down the highway in silence. What would she do if he told her? Would she think she could act that way too? Would she decide he was too weak and leave his ass behind? Hell, she’d been trained specifically to survive this ordeal; she’d been taught how to fight in hand-to-hand combat, fire a weapon, strategic planning, disguising herself… He couldn’t even stop people recognising him.

‘You should cut me lose.’ The words tumbled from his mouth before he really thought about them, but the moment they were uttered, he knew the idea made sense. What the hell was he bringing to their predicament? Trouble. Problems. More ways for them to get caught or be killed. If he went back he could actually be of more use to her.

‘I’m sorry—what?’

‘I could go on TV and tell people who I saw, the government would have to protect me.’

‘Luc, you can’t trust the fucking government!’

He made to say something, but she cut him off. ‘I had your president and our PM handpicked my team. Hand-fucking-picked, Luc, I keep telling you. David was chosen personally by President Forbes. Does that mean she’s dirty? Does it mean she’s incompetent? I dunno, but it certainly means that there’s a hell of a lot of weaknesses that the evil son of a bitch can exploit in people that even your president can’t filter through.’

He bit his lip at that thought. If Renee Forbes had picked David herself, what chance did he have?

He could go back and head straight to a newsroom; speak out about what had happened, explain what Europe had been subjected to over the last few years, what the US was about to experience. Get a picture of the Demon out there.

Of course, that would also mean going back to Linda. He ground his teeth at the thought. It was the last thing he wanted, especially after realising that he could still be attracted to a woman, could still get hard, could fantasise over someone and enjoy it.

They drove for a while in silence, the sun, setting in the west, framed her as they headed north. Her auburn hair burned bronze in its orange hue and Luc felt as if he were looking at a Pre-Raphaelite masterpiece, and tucked the image away in his head. If was ever forced back to Linda, he’d be keeping every image he had of the woman at his side locked away, to picture and imagine whenever the bitch used his body for her own pleasures…

His stomach rolled at the thought, but he’d do it if he had to.

‘No. That’s not happening.’ Sarah’s voice was firm and brokered no argument as her fingers tightened on the wheel. A small smile tugged at his lips as he already recognised the motion—it meant she was getting ready to fight her corner, and she wasn’t going to back down. Something within him loosened, a tightness in his chest relaxed. She was going to push him away, wasn’t banishing him back to the future he’d accepted a long while ago.

God, he wanted to reach over and kiss her.

‘We’ll go get another hotel,’ Sarah continued. ‘Just outside of Salt Lake. Tomorrow I’ll drive back to Provo and get the money, then I’ll swing—’

‘You didn’t get the money?’ He sat up straight. Damn, he’d been hoping to get the hell out of Utah. Not just because he’d been spotted, but because of the little personal errand he’d completed just before that couple had wandered into the post office.

Sarah shook her head. ‘No, they said for that amount they’d need to order it specially. It’s being sent over night. I’ve gotta be back there for half-two tomorrow.’

‘Shit.’

‘Yeah. Anyway, I’ll grab that, come back up here to get you and then we’ll head on towards… I dunno…’ she seemed to think of a moment, before plucking a city from thin air. ‘Kansas City, tomorrow night—’ A yawn cut off her sentence and she shook her head to try and wake herself up a bit. ‘But first, ditch car, hotel, sleep. Tomorrow can wait until tomorrow.’

Luc nodded and sat back in his seat, watching the asphalt disappear beneath their wheels and wondered how many more tomorrow’s he’d be blessed with.

Any questions, please drop them in the comments. Next update on Tuesday!

[evdarcy]

An Unusual Hero C12S2

Please remember, this is unedited and unfinished, but will hopefully fill in the holes that were left and answer some questions without leaving too many others. HOWEVER I will answer all and any questions if you want to leave me a comment.

Next update - Friday 16/07/2021

De-rum, de-rum, de-rum, de-rum.

Sniff.

Scritch-scritch-scritch.

De-rum, de-rum, de-rum, de-rum.

‘Is there a problem?’ Sarah’s abrupt interruption made the bank manager jump slightly, stopping his fidgeting as he looked over the paperwork she’d completed at his request. The man peered over his spectacles at her. His stern brown eyes hooded by thick silver brows drawn together in thought as he watched at her. She shifted minutely in her seat, under his scrutiny; she felt like a student called to the headmaster’s office.

She looked every inch of respectability—the Queen would be hard pressed to find something to criticise—she wore a black jacket, a forest green dress that accentuated her slim waist and full hips, a pill box hat perched on her head atop a black, bobbed wig. Her feet were squeezed into black, eye-wateringly expensive stiletto shoes and her legs were stockinged, also in black. She carried a small black handbag, which was home to one of the tiniest guns she had ever seen—a mini revolver—just in case.

‘Ms. Metcalf—’

‘Please, call me Hillary,’ she simpered sweetly to the older man, ignoring the trickle of sweat meandering its way down the back of her neck, under the wig.

‘Hillary,’ he corrected as he removed his glasses, folded the arms and placed them in front of him on his desk. He clasped his hands over the blotter and leaned toward her fractionally, and Sarah knew he was about to break some bad news. ‘I understand that it’s your money, but unfortunately we just don’t have that kind of cash here at the moment. It’s the day’s end, and even if it wasn’t, two and a half million dollars in cash would need to be specially ordered from our central bank in Salt Lake. We could easily do a Cashier’s Che—’

‘No, I’m afraid they specifically requested a cash payment,’ she informed him. ‘How long would it take to order the funds? They’re expecting me in Chicago on Friday.’

The man glanced at the clock, ‘I might be able to get it for you tomorrow afternoon, but it would incur a… charge.’

‘How much?’

‘For that amount’—he bit his lip and she knew that the man was about to rip her off and pocket the lot—‘you’re looking at one percent.’

‘Twenty-five thousand?’ She raised her bow and pursed her lips in thought. She didn’t want to raise suspicions by agreeing too easily, but she’d have to do it or it would hold up the account closure and they could start asking more questions. While she wanted to be remembered, she didn’t want to be left hanging around.

‘Would a cash payment be sufficient?’ she asked. When the man nodded she confirmed, ‘Then that is acceptable.’

‘Would you mind waiting outside while I place the call?’ he asked, slowly rising out of his seat. Sarah took the hint and stood quickly, giving the man a smile.

‘Of course.’

The manager showed her out, asking his secretary to get her a drink. Sarah declined with a wave of her gloved hand and sat, very lady like, on a chair in the room to wait. Her bag buzzed with yet another message from Luc as he waited for her in a cafe across the street.

Her phone vibrated again, causing the secretary to raise her head and glance in her direction. Sarah offered her a tight smile, but refused to check it, less the woman spy the gun—the bag wasn’t very big. It looked as if the secretary was about to say something when the door to her boss’ office swung open.

‘Ms. Met—Hillary.’ The man corrected himself and offered her a broad smile as she stood. ‘I’m pleased to say that it has all been arranged.’

‘Oh, I am happy to hear that.’

‘I’ve booked you in for two-thirty tomorrow, if that suits?’

She pretended to consider the time, nibbling her lip and looking away from the him as if she was trying to work something out. Finally, she told him, ‘That’s fine, I can still make my four o’clock.’

She stepped out of the bank and gave herself a pat on the back. She was sure to be remembered; that much money, ignoring a phone that was constantly going off, and the fact that she stood out like a sore thumb in her outfit would certainly ring bells when people began asking questions.

As she headed towards the café where Luc was waiting, Sarah had to admit that Edwards was right getting her to collect the money, it would certainly make their lives easier. She stepped inside the bright coffee house and looked around for the cap Luc had been sporting earlier to hide a little better in such a crowded place.

She frowned when she couldn’t spot him, with or without said cap.

Ducking into the ladies room, she locked the cubicle door behind her and quickly opened her handbag. The phone was under the mini-revolver. It was an old model, a Nokia, she remembered from when she was in high school; it was joked to be virtually indestructible and had no internet, GPS or any other apps. The only way the phone could be used to track her was via a mast; they’d have to have her number to complete that task and only Luc had that. They’d also bought a newer model phone with the correct port for when they would contact Downing Street again later.

There were four messages from Luc sat in her in-box.

Think I’ve been spotted!!

Sarah’s heart leapt into her mouth as she read the four words. While they wanted to be memorable, they didn’t want Luc to be recognised. That would cause instant mayhem and a circus of police and media—they’d never make it out alive!

No, it’s okay, they just wanted the table. I went the bathroom and came back and they’d taken it.

She shook her head. He’d been jumpy since the incident with his watch. Willow had appeared on TV as reporters swarmed the area when a headline splashed across the papers the following day about the smart-watch and where Luc had been pinged. The fire starting in almost that exact area hadn’t exactly helped with the media circus as wild—and correct—theories started sprouting up about Luc’s “kidnappers” starting the blaze.

Really, she couldn’t blame Luc for being nervous; it had taken her weeks to get with it once she was released from hospital and she’d only been headline grabbing for fifteen minutes. Luc was Hollywood Royalty.

I looked weird hanging around without a table. Was drawing attention from people, so left.

Why didn’t he just buy another drink? Sarah frowned and clicked the final message, the one sent when she had been sat outside the manager’s room with the beady eye of the secretary pressing on her.

Was at post office. That couple is here!! I think that they DID recognise me!! What do I do?

Well, shit.

Sarah wanted to throw the phone across the small enclosure. What else could go wrong today? Luc had sworn up and down that banks in the US kept millions in their vaults. Perhaps they did in LA, with lots of rich clientèle, but not here in Provo.

She pressed the call button as she left the restroom, narrowly avoiding bumping into someone trying to enter. The phone rang a few times before Luc finally answered.

‘Where are you?’ she said in lieu of a greeting.

Any questions, please drop them in the comments. Next update on Friday!

[evdarcy]

An Unusual Hero C12S1

Please remember, this is unedited and unfinished, but will hopefully fill in the holes that were left and answer some questions without leaving too many others. HOWEVER I will answer all and any questions if you want to leave me a comment.

Next update - Tuesday 13/07/2021

Luc stared at the paper, a massive smile spreading over his face. The knot in his chest loosened as he read the headline over and over again.

Casey McManaman and Reporter Found Alive!

Casey had been found late Friday afternoon and aside from a little dehydration he was fine. His friend wasn’t dead, and if Luc knew him, after two days of recovery he was probably enjoying the attention he was getting from the nurses right about now. God help them all.

But Sarah hadn’t killed him. She wasn’t responsible for one of his friends dying…

Instead, she was responsible for the deaths of eighteen other people in the Meet and Greet room and a few more throughout the building, including Frank, Marc’s bodyguard. Luc had been stunned to read that. Frank had always seemed so invincible, built like stone; unmoving and virtually indestructible. He wondered what Marc would do now? Frank had been at his side for years.

Tanya’s name jumped out at him next, Casey’s bodyguard. He wondered if it was because of her that Casey was alive? Had she pushed him out of the way of falling masonry?

He shook his head and turned over the page. He didn’t want to dwell on the specifics. Frank and Tanya, two people well liked and highly respected were gone, and he was partly responsible.

He could try and pin all the blame on Sarah, but he could have stopped her. Okay, so he hadn’t actually known what she was doing in the trunk of the car, but he’d just taken what she’d given him and ran for it. He hadn’t asked, hadn’t questioned her… And he still didn’t.

He’d let her burn down a cabin in the middle of a forest without telling her how bad an idea it was. While it would have been worse in the height of summer, it had taken two days to get the blaze under control and the diversion it caused was the reason it had taken them so long to get to Utah and finally speak to the British Prime Minister.

He turned the page and decided that things were going to have to change. He needed to start speaking up. She wasn’t in her own country, she didn’t understand how things worked here; the people, the land, they were all so different to the UK, and if he didn’t start helping her, they were going to get caught by someone pretty soon.

He rubbed his hand over his forehead, pushing his cap up slightly. He grabbed at it quickly and pulled it down again, back over his eyes as he turned another page.

And that was another prime example of him just doing what he’d been told. She’d insisted he wear a cap and to not take it off, no matter what. He hadn’t spoken up, hadn’t told her that it was a bad idea, that he’d done a promotion last year for Cap-Locked Caps and every single image of him for the campaign had only focused on his eyes up. It didn’t matter that the beard was gone, that his hair was shorter and back to his natural golden-brown—he had to thank the Heavens he hadn’t started to go grey yet!—if anyone caught his eye, they were going to instantly recognise him.

He glanced around the room, his eyes darting nervously from one table to the next. The place was full, overflowing with people looking for seats and still more queueing for drinks. He saw one couple sighing heavily as they looked at the singles occupying tables. The man gave him a glare from the side of his eyes before turning his annoyance on a young mother, but the woman at his side… her eyes lingered on him.

Luc shifted in his seat, turning his attention back to the paper. He reached up to tug the brim of his cap lower and tried to surreptitiously glance back at the woman to see if she was still staring.

She was.

Except now her face had changed from annoyed to puzzled. Had she recognised him? Shit. What if she had? Would she cause a scene? Start screaming at him?

He looked about him again. He was in the middle of the room, too far from either exit not to be tackled by someone. Shit, he’d fucked up big time. Sarah had told him to remain close to an exit, but he hadn’t listened. Dammit.

He pulled his upper lip between his teeth as he tried to decide what to do. Behind the woman he saw a door open and a guy pop out, the sign for the men’s room caught his eye. Brilliant. Perhaps if he gave up his table, she’d forget all about him?

He folded up his paper and pushed it to one side along with his coffee cup. Pulling down his cap and dropping his gaze to the floor, he stood up and walked the long way to the men’s room.

He stared at himself in the mirror over the sink. His skin was pale and his eyes were decorated by dark circles; his stylist would probably have a heart attack if he spotted the star like this. He ran the cold water and splashed it over his face, trying to calm his nerves and kick start his mind.

Sarah. He’d message Sarah and she’d tell him what to do. His hands shook as he took the old phone from his pocket. He kept it simple and to the point.

Think I’ve been spotted!!

He waited for a response… and waited. When none was forthcoming he took a breath and stepped back into the coffee house again. It was worse than before, people were looking inside the windows and turning away seeing how crowded it was.

The couple he’d watched earlier now sat at his table, sipping their cups and talking idly. The woman fingered his discarded paper but didn’t look his way.

With utter relief flooding him, he sent Sarah another message, telling her it was a false alarm.

He casually strolled towards the counter again, perhaps he could get one to go and just walk the town? Keep his head low and avoid eye-contact altogether. It sounded good in his head and was just about to join the line when a glossy magazine in the racks on the wall caught his attention.

That wasn’t—

It couldn’t be…

He reached up and lifted the magazine from the rack and stared, disbelievingly at his wife’s face.

What the fuck was Linda doing on a magazine?

Her face filled the front page; her deep brown eyes cast slightly downward, her plump lips pouting sadly. It was Hollywood sadness at its finest and Luc saw through it immediately.

The rest of the world wouldn’t.

He flicked through the thick pages until he found the interview the front covered boasted. She was heartbroken. Destroyed. Missing part of herself.

Five million dollars reward…

Five million? Fucking five million? That bitch. He had at the least ten times that sat in his bank account and she was offering five! Hell, Sarah was picking up half of that right now.

He snapped the magazine shut and thrust it back into the rack.

That was it, he was never doing an interview with Cosmopolitan again!

‘Hey, if you’re not going to buy it, treat it with a little respect,’ a woman said next to him. He glanced in her direction, ready to tell her where to go when the couple who’d taken his table caught his eye again. The woman was staring and pointing her finger towards him. She dropped her hand to the table quickly as she caught his gaze and stopped saying whatever it was to her partner. The man turned in his seat and stared at him too.

‘Sorry, ma’am,’ he muttered instead, turning on his heel.

Five million dollars. Was that all he was worth? He’d provided her with so much and got so little in return and without him she was nothing.

Or was she?

Cosmopolitan was probably just the beginning. He’d been on the run for only a week and she was already being snapped up for interviews and photo-shoots. She probably had the pick of the lot of them right now, all of them clamouring to get to her. This would probably go on for months, maybe years if he didn’t come home. For the first time in their Hollywood lives she didn’t need him. There was no way she wanted people to actually find him—or at least not so soon. And anything more than what she’d offered and vigilante groups would probably form.

She hadn’t thought of the fans though. Hell, if he logged into his Twitter account and sent the right message he’d have them all ripping her to shreds… until she stood in the spotlight to tell them the “truth” while he had to stay in hiding.

Luc shook his head—he hated Linda with all his soul—as he pulled the phone back out and fired off another message to Sarah to say he’d left the shop, but just as he was about to put it back in his pocket, his wedding ring caught his eye.

Kidnapped, eh? He’d fucking show her.

Any questions, please drop them in the comments. Next update on Tuesday!

[evdarcy]

An Unusual Hero C11S2

Please remember, this is unedited and unfinished, but will hopefully fill in the holes that were left and answer some questions without leaving too many others. HOWEVER I will answer all and any questions if you want to leave me a comment.

Next update - Tuesday 28/06/2021

Sarah had been a barrel of nerves since the call to Edwards; bouncing from one chair to another, running out to reception to see if they had any maps—they had—then plotting four different routes for them tomorrow to Provo just in case.

So after twenty minutes of silence as she sat at the tiny table the room provided writing down who knew what on a piece of paper, Luc was starting to get annoyed. He was about to tell her to get some sleep as he settled down into the bed when as her head shot up.

‘Okay,’ she said, breaking the silence. ‘If you use a basic conversion rate of seventy-pence to the dollar, two and a half million dollars is 1.75million pounds. Do you know what I could buy with that back home? Man, I’d be set for life. Nice big house, no more than half a million, leaving me with just over one and a quarter left…’

‘Really? A big house for half a million?’ He wanted to laugh at the idea. No way could you get anything half decent for that much.

‘Oh, yeah,’ she said with a head bob. ‘Where I live, that would get you at least four, maybe five bedrooms, big garden, couple of reception rooms, driveway, definitely a garage. Although…’ Her words trailed off as she cocked her head to one side, clearly thinking about this imaginary house.

‘Have you noticed, you can’t fit cars in garages of new houses?’

‘What?’

‘New houses. They get built with garages, but you can’t get a car in them. The cars all sit outside them on the driveways and you can see that they’re too wide to go in. No, actually, you probably can get them in,’ she suddenly decided. ‘But then you can’t get out of them—you can’t get the doors open.’

Luc frowned, starting to consider that the silence was better. ‘Then what’s the point?’

‘Exactly!’ she said, throwing down her pencil and standing up. The little stubby piece of wood bounced off the pad and fell to the floor. Luc watched it land under the table, but Sarah was already moving towards the duffel bag with her clothes. ‘So what’s the point of even building them? Surely another usable room would be better—it’d certainly add more value to the house.’

‘Or they could just make them big enough for a car.’ Luc rubbed his eyes as he watched her pull out a set of clothes she was happy with. Why the hell were they discussing cars and garages? He peeked out over his fingertips and watched as Sarah bent over to put on her own pair of sweats. He almost swallowed his tongue when he saw the tiny scrap of fabric she was wearing. It barely covered anything and Luc briefly wondered what the uncensored version would look like. He bit his lip as she pulled the trousers up, covering her generous ass, and swallowed down a mew of disappointment. Her top was pulled off and Luc was rather disappointed by the display there. No lacy cups to see, no slip of a nipple, only a a bland nude coloured sports bra, with fat straps and a wide back held her breasts in place. And they weren’t coming out any time soon, Luc realised as she slipped the clean top over her head and tucked it into her sweatpants.

‘What are you doing?’ he asked as she hopped on one leg and tried to pull the top of her sock over the bottom of the pants.

‘I don’t want… any part of my skin… touching that sheet,’ she said as she tried to get the other sock to do the same. ‘There.’ She stood up, hands in a ta-da moment as if she’d just performed an exceptional piece of gymnastic wizardry.

Luc shook his head. ‘Just get in bed.’ He flicked back the covers and patted the sheet in question. To be fair it wasn’t as bad as she was making out, and while at first he’d had his own misgivings the place was just old rather than dirty. The décor could use updating, but it was clean.

Sarah grabbed another t-shirt as she walked over, and Luc sighed as she laid it out over the pillow. He settled into the bed and turned over, his back to hers as she made herself comfortable under the duvet.

‘Goodnight,’ he said as he leaned up and switched off the lamp. The room descended into darkness and Luc sighed contentedly as he snuggled further into the pillow, willing the Sandman to come sooner rather than later.

‘Luc?’ Sarah’s voice sounded loud in the darkness.

‘Yeah?’

‘Two and a half million isn’t a lot to you is it?’

‘No,’ he sighed. He’d been wondering when she’d get around to that. He’d seen the curious look in her eye all evening. ‘That’s almost my fee per episode for Destiny.’

‘That’s mad.’ Silence fell again, but he knew she wasn’t done. ‘Why do you need so much?’

He huffed as he turned over, propping himself up on his hand as he gazed down at her in the dark. ‘That’s what they offered—well no, that’s a lie,’ he corrected as he recalled Lars throwing back their initial offer, calling it an insult. ‘My agent negotiated. I leave fees and that to him. If people want to pay me that much for me to work, I’m not going to argue with them.’

She turned her head to gaze up at him as he spoke and he felt her eyes considering him. ‘But what do you do with it all? I mean there’s over twenty episodes a series—lets use twenty though—nice round figure and it’s an underestimate so we know the answer will be more.’

‘God, I forgot you’re a maths teacher.’ He rolled onto back and stared at the ceiling as she did the calculations.

‘So twenty lots of two million, that’s forty million a year. Holy shit! And five years…’ she fell quiet again as she realised the vast amount he’d been paid by the network while he’d been on the show. It was one of the reasons he never turned down any of their promo work.

‘What’s the tax rate here?’ she asked.

‘For God’s sake, Sarah,’ he said, losing his temper. ‘Go to sleep.’ He rolled over, his back to her once more.

It wasn’t him who’d wanted to negotiate so much, who had to eek out ever last dime from the networks and studios that hired him, Lars and Linda insisted contracts always went back, that they never accepted the first offer. Sarah was right, however, what the hell did he do with it all?

There were only so many houses they could own, so many cars they could buy. Truth be told, as big and lavish as his penthouse was, as gorgeous as his homes in exotic locations like the Maldives and Fiji, he’d always felt far more at home in Casey’s place. Even Marc’s mansion in Bel Air was too big. It never felt homely. BB’s house was… interesting and unique would be the polite term. Definitely not what he would consider a home though.

‘Luc?’ Sarah whispered, interrupting his thoughts.

‘Um-hm?’

‘Are you gay?’

His eyes flew open at the question. Well, that certainly woke him up. ‘What?’ he spluttered.

‘Do you prefer men? Is Linda a beard? Is that what you get from the marriage?’ Ah, she hadn’t forgotten about their earlier conversation. Damn. He had no idea why he’d said what he had, but it had felt good to tell her. To voice, for once, what everyone saw between he and Linda was a big, fat lie.

‘Oh, my God!’ Sarah exclaimed, sitting up suddenly. She leaned over him, shaking his shoulder slightly and he groaned, burying his face into the pillow, knowing exactly what she was going to say next. ‘The rumours about you and Marc, they’re true!’

‘No!’ he said. He hugged the pillow for a second longer, before finally giving into her shakes and rolling onto his back to face her. She leaned over him and switched on the lamp so she could see him.

‘Oh, c’mon, you can tell me, I mean, who the hell am I going to tell?’

‘I’m not gay.’

‘I think the lady doth protest too much!’ she wiggled her eyebrows jokingly.

‘Honestly, Sarah, I can say hand on heart, I am not gay. I tried it once—’

‘What!’ She shrieked as her eyes went as large as saucers.

‘—not with Marc, but it wasn’t for me.’

‘Prove it,’ she said, making him sigh and roll his eyes. There was only one way he could do that and he wasn’t about to.

‘Nice try,’ he said. She frowned down at him for a second, trying to work out what he meant and when she finally clued in on what she’d said her brows almost flew off her head. Her cheeks flamed red and she quickly retreated to her side of the bed, crossing her arms over her chest, as she muttered, ‘I didn’t mean for you to shag me.’

A wicked thought entered his mind, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the smile from spread across his face. ‘To be fair,’ he said slowly, ‘I wanted to kiss you in the shop the other day—when I grabbed your ass, I had to stop myself from getting a hard-on.’ He wanted to laugh when her eyes snapped back to his, blinking rapidly. It was almost like watching her mind break. He wondered how much it would take to do so.

‘Then when you were breaking into that cabin, you were on your knees and I had all sorts of thoughts about what you could do while you were down there. I almost kissed you earlier, but you had to charge the phone…’ He let that one sink in just for a moment.

‘You— you were—’ she stumbled as she tried to find the words.

‘Yup,’ he said, smirking as he rolled over. He had to carefully arrange himself so as not to show he was getting aroused right then, especially when the image of her bent over just a few minutes ago popped back into his mind.

‘Oh, and by the way,’ he added as he reached up and switched the light off again. ‘Robson is totally gay and wants my body.’

The strangled cry from Sarah made him laugh heartily as he snuggled back into the covers.

Any questions, please drop them in the comments. Next update on Tuesday!

[evdarcy]

An Unusual Hero C11S1

Please remember, this is unedited and unfinished, but will hopefully fill in the holes that were left and answer some questions without leaving too many others. HOWEVER I will answer all and any questions if you want to leave me a comment.

Next update - Friday 25/06/2021

The room was dark and dingy, and a wall of unexpected heat hit Sarah as she stepped inside. It smelt musty, as if no one had entered it in months and the windows hadn’t been opened in even longer. The setting sun’s light filtered through the partly open curtains and highlighted the dust dancing lazily in the evening air. It was probably a far cry from the suites Luc usually stayed in while he was away on shoots, even more from his LA penthouse. Hell, she’d stayed in better travel hostels when she’d been backpacking across Europe during her gap year.

‘Huh,’ Sarah said as she threw the keys on the small table by the door; a cloud of dust erupted in the air and made her frown as she watched it resettle. ‘I thought motels like this only existed in TV shows.’

Luc stopped in the doorway, the other two bags over his shoulder as he paused and took a look. ‘They have to get their inspiration from somewhere,’ he said, but his tone told her he was just as underwhelmed as she was by the décor. With a thud, Sarah dropped her bags by the table and immediately began rifling through her handbag for the phone and charger she was still itching to use.

Turning in a circle, she spied a spare socket near the bed which had made her stomach turn. It was an old crappy divan, with a sagging mattress and stained duvet cover; she didn’t want to even imagine sitting on it, never mind picturing happy-fun-times in such a thing. She turned to say exactly that to Luc but his face told her he’d already thought the same thing.

‘Anyway,’ she said just to break the silence, before she finally plugged the phone in. She heard Luc cross the floor—how the hell did carpet sound sticky?—and glanced over her shoulder just in time to see him gingerly taking a seat on the mattress, TV remote in hand. He was far braver than she.

‘…The children from Garston Middle School, in Nevada were aged between eleven and fourteen.’

Sarah’s body snapped upright and she turned in horror to the screen where two news-anchors sat behind a desk, sombre expressions on their overly made up faces. The female anchor glanced down at her desk as her male counterpart cleared his throat before continuing.

‘The bodies of five—two boys and three girls—have already been recovered and identified by family members. Twelve others remain missing. Police are appealing for any witnesses or anyone who may have any additional information on the missing children—’

The set went black.

‘Sarah?’

‘It’s him,’ she whispered, eyes still on the blank screen. Her feet wouldn’t move, she couldn’t lift her arms. She felt frozen right down to her core at the all too familiar story. Luc stepped in front of her, making her blink, as he bent down slightly to catch her eye and forced her to focus on him.

‘He must have struck right after we escaped.’ As the words left her mouth, her stomach rolled and she wanted to be sick. They’d been fleeing across the country, running for safety, while he’d been doing one of his rounds.

And it was all her fault.

‘Hey,’ he said softly, his voice was warm and low. ‘There was nothing you could do. You didn’t know—’

‘I should have pulled that fucking trigger!’ she shouted, pushing past him so she could pace the room. She couldn’t look at him. She didn’t deserve understanding, didn’t deserve warm and kind words. This was her fault. Another seventeen names to add to her ticket to hell because she hadn’t been strong enough, because she hadn’t been able to press a button.

‘He would be dead and those kids would be alive, safe, playing with their friends, having dinner with their families,’ she bit out; self-hatred bubbled within her, frothed up her stomach and made her want to vomit. ‘If I’d just had the balls to pull that friggin’ trigger sooner than I did!’

A lump rose in her throat. She ground the heels of her hands into her eyes to stop the sting of tears threatening to fall, and swallowed down the sick feeling that churned her stomach; she couldn’t afford to be weak anymore. She had to be strong, had to be the person they’d trained her to be, who they’d expected.

She wouldn’t let them down again. If she came face to face with that bastard once more, she wouldn’t waste time with chit-chat, the bullet would be in him before he could say her name.

‘Hey, hey,’ Luc’s strong hands were soft when he grasped hers and gently pulled them from her face to stop her doing damage to herself.

‘Sarah, you can’t blame yourself for this. You weren’t to know that Agent whats-his-face was going to turn on you.’

‘Twice, now, I’ve had the chance to kill that evil son of a bitch,’ she whispered. Her eyes stared at the ground, but her hands held Luc’s tightly, stopping herself from reaching up and clawing at her own face, to make something else hurt so she didn’t have to feel the heavy lump in her chest. ‘And both times I hesitated. That’s on me.’

‘You’re not a trained killer, Sarah,’ he returned softly, releasing one of her hands and tucking her hair behind her ear. He tipped her head up to look at him, his eyes firm and sure. ‘You were just a teacher in a tough spot—a spot you should never have even been in. You did your best—better than anyone probably would have thought—and you saved so many. And if you want to talk about failures—I hid behind a fucking door the moment things went nuts and ran for it the first chance I got. That’s not exactly an action hero, more a coward’s tale.’

She gazed into his eyes, their green so warm and kind. It was surreal being here with him. She’d accepted, months back, that her life was never going to be the same, that she was going to live some other life until the Demon was brought down. But that life being entangled with Luc Truman? She glanced down at their still joined hand as she felt his warm fingers trace her jaw.

Luc was supposed to be just a fantasy, someone she could dream about at night, sigh over while she watched the television, ogle on a calendar, and the such. She was never supposed to actually meet him, talk to him, or screw up his life—

‘I’m so sorry I dragged you into this.’ The words tumbled from her mouth before she could stop them. ‘You had such a good life and I’ve fucked it all up for you. You’ve lost your home, your friends, your wife for God’s sake! I’m so fucking sorry!’

‘Yes, well,’ he cleared this throat as his hands dropped away and she lamented the loss. The lump in her chest grew as she realised what she’d done, weighing her down so much she felt her knees wanting to buckle. She heaved in a deep, shaky breath as she watched Luc’s feet turn and walk away from her and she reached out for the wall to steady herself, feeling the loss far deeper than she’d have ever believed possible.

She couldn’t loose Luc. Couldn’t have him walk away from her. He was the only thread she had to life. To being someone. To still existing.

‘I’ll get you back,’ she told him, raising her head and gazing towards him. His back was to her and at her words his shoulders straightened. ‘I promise you right now, I’ll get you back to them, to Linda and your friends.’

She licked her lips as she waited for a response. Bit her tongue and held her breath as she watched the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed in and out, his breaths deep as if he were building up the courage to do something.

‘I don’t want to go back.’ The words were quiet, and Sarah almost didn’t catch them.’

‘Beg your pardon?’

He took another deep breath and held his head higher before turning around to face her. He met her eyes as he said, ‘I don’t want to go back, not to her.’

‘Her?’

Another deep breath. ‘Linda. I don’t want to go back to her. We’re not in love. We make out we are, but we’re not—’ He made a frustrated sound. ‘She wants the money and the fame I provide, wants the lifestyle I can give her. She craves the attention— Hell, this is probably a dream come true for her right now! The world actually focusing on her rather than second hand via me.’

‘I— I see,’ Sarah said, carefully, but not really having the foggiest what he was trying to tell her. And he was trying to tell her something. He was trying to get something across to her without speaking it, but as much as she wanted to get it, she had no clue what he was trying to say. She approached him slowly, reaching out for the hand that held hers just moments ago.

She slipped her fingers in his and he grabbed them, holding onto them for dear life. They were two lost souls, she recognised. Both trying to figure out the world, trying to make things right in their lives.

‘And what do you get from her?’ she asked, holding his gaze. ‘What does she give you to keep up the charade?’

She watched that tongue of his peek out, wetting his lips, making them glisten. He’d done that many times in shows, particularly when he was about to kiss his co-star. It was such a well known trait that directors ensured there was always a camera focused on his mouth.

She licked her own lips, sipping the air through them as Luc’s green gaze dropped to her parted mouth.

God, the world could be ending, the devil could be standing at her side, demons clawing at her legs as they tried to pull her down into his pit of damnation and she’d still wonder what those lips would feel like on hers.

‘What aren’t you getting?’ she whispered at him, as she took a step closer, drawn like a moth to a flame. His head lowered fractionally towards her as his other hand slipped around her waist.

She could give it to him. What it was he needed, she was here, she was willing and she—

Beep-beep-beep!

Sarah jumped, ripping herself from his embrace at the noise. Her free hand reached to the small of her back for her gun as she turned 180 degrees to scan the room, looking for the perpetrator. Her heart raced as she searched for the interruption, her eyes darting first to the door, then the windows, before glancing to the back of the room where the bathroom was situated.

‘I think its the phone,’ Luc said, his voice low and gruff. ‘Must have been charged more than you thought.’

She shook her head, as she slipped her gun back in place, a humourless gurgle of laughter escaped her when she saw the device sat on the bed, the bar on the screen finally a full green.

‘So are you gonna use it?’ Luc asked, stepping beside her, gazing over her shoulder to the bed, his arm slipping around her waist. She leaned back against him for support as she stared at the device.

This was what she’d been waiting for. This was it. Everything was going to be okay after she used this thing…

She licked her lips, her teeth dragging over the bottom one as she steeled herself for whatever was about to happen. She said nothing as she took Luc’s hand in hers and tentatively moved towards the phone. She pulled him with her as she tugged the necklace over her head with her free hand. Whatever it was about to reveal, they would face it together.

The last resort Edwards had called it. The only instruction he had specifically given her regarding it was that it was only to be used if she was ever out in the wild.

Sarah took a breath and gently squeezed the sides of the locket where the two cleverly disguised pressure buttons were and the tiny port popped out. Luc gave her hand a squeeze before letting it go so that she could take the charger out of the phone and switch it on. When it picked up the signal, showing her some American provider she didn’t recognise, she plugged in the locket. The screen flickered and then went white.

‘Shit,’ she cursed on a breath, and rolled her head back, looking to the ceiling and praying for patience.

Maybe the thing had gotten damaged when—

‘What’s it doing?’ Luc asked with baited breath as a series of black numbers began scrolling down the screen, locking in place from left to right until what Sarah recognised as being a UK phone number appeared. When the final number was secured the speaker on the phone switched on and the ringing of a phone in some unknown location could be heard.

‘Sarah?’ It was Edwards voice. Her whole body relaxed with relief at hearing his stern, clipped tone, and she sank against Luc for support. They were safe; Edwards would send a new team out to rescue them. Maybe lock them down in an American base for now until the special forces teams could get over here…

No. No Americans. One had already betrayed her.

‘Prime Minister.’

‘Prime minister?’ Luc’s eyes went wide as he leaned in closer, trying to get a better view of the phone as if he could see the other man. ‘As in the president of the UK?’

Sarah rolled her eyes and shoved at him gently.

‘Who is that, Sarah? Have you been compromised?’

‘What? No. Hang on a second, sir,’ she told the man on the phone. ‘The UK doesn’t have a president, dickhead,’ she said to Luc with an amused smile. ‘Hence the title Prime Minister. He’s in charge, but kind of reports to the Queen, our Head of State.’

‘And neither of us are happy chaps right now,’ Edwards clarified down the phone. ‘I’m guessing that Luc is the kidnapped TV star?’

‘Kidnapped?’ Sarah and Luc both spoke at the same time.

‘Well, that’s what’s being reported all over the news. Sarah, you took one of the biggest stars in the western world. Your daring escape was captured on the hotel CCTV cameras; between the hotel being destroyed by your escapades and stealing that bloke away with you, you haven’t been off the air all week.’

‘Who’s the dickhead now?’ Luc said.

Sarah glared at him as she said to the device, ‘I didn’t do it on purpose! David was dirty. The Demon was there. Luc opened the door and saw the bastard’s face, I couldn’t just leave him.’

‘So now there are two people in the world who know what that evil git looks like. Is Luc willing to work with us?’

Sarah looked at the star who huffed, ‘Not like I have much of a choice.’

Thank you, she mouthed before she turned back to the phone. She asked the question that had been driving her mad all this time, ‘How the fuck did David get onto my team? He had a niece, sir, a five year old niece that I’m assuming was taken when his sister was killed by the bastard.’

‘We don’t know. I’ve spoken to Renée and she’s looking into it.’

‘Fucking Americans!’

‘Hey!’ Luc protested down her ear. She pulled away from the star for a moment and wiggled her finger in her ear as she glared at him. ‘We’re not all idiots.’

‘You just called our prime minister, a bloody president.’ The star said nothing in reply. ‘Yeah. Exactly. Sir,’ she turned her attention back to Edwards. ‘I need to know what to do, my identities are compromised.’

‘First things first, if your covers are blown then we need to use them as part of our advantage. I want you to create a false trail; take one of your alias’ and make yourself seen. Be memorable. Make people say, Oh, I remember her, tell people where you’re going.’

‘Okay?’ Sarah said hesitantly. That didn’t sound too clever in her opinion. What if someone caught them too soon? How could they know their story had been bought? What would happen if—

‘I get it,’ Luc murmured. ‘One of my characters did something similar.’

‘Really?’ she asked with a frown. The star nodded.

‘It’s a smoke screen.’

‘One of you identities,’ Edwards cut in. ‘Is quite a wealthy woman. Hillary Metcalf has over two and a half million dollars in her account—’

‘Holy shit!’ Sarah exclaimed.

‘Elegantly put as always.’ She could hear Edwards’ eye roll down the line and she glared back at him. The guy was brilliant, young for a prime minister, but well respected as a politician—which was very rare—but Sarah swore he had a stick up his arse.

‘Anyway,’ the Prime Minister continued, ‘Go to Utah and close the account—’

‘Utah?’ Sarah and Luc glanced at one another at the coincidence. They’d arrived in Salt Lake City after three days of hard driving and two nights of sleeping in cars.

Another sigh down the phone. ‘Yes, Miss Whiston, Utah. Provo, Utah to be exact, that is where Hillary’s home is located, so that is where you need to go.’ She bit her lip to stop the comment that was on the tip of her tongue. She didn’t want him to know where they were exactly. Strangely, after all the anticipation she’d had over this call saving her arse, she now felt hesitant in following Edwards’ advice. What if he couldn’t be trusted after all? What if he’d been in on it too?

‘So go there and close the account; make sure that you have a story ready as to why you need to close the account—you’re going somewhere, buying something, or whatever. Make sure that people remember you being there and where you say you’re heading. Then go somewhere else. Keep your head low when you’re there and call me back.’

‘So,’ she started slowly, her mind was whirling, trying to put everything together. It just didn’t make sense. ‘I get the cash, then you’ll send in my team to get us out?’

‘I’m afraid that’s not possible.’

‘What!’ She practically screamed down the phone. That was not what was supposed to happen. ‘Why not?’

‘Because we don’t know how much they’ve been compromised, perhaps they’ve all been on the take—we can’t risk it after David.’

‘Jack wasn’t dirty,’ she began. ‘And they were his men, not David’s. They didn’t even like David!’

‘It’s too risky’

‘How the hell do I know that you’re not on the take?’

She heard the hiss of Luc’s breath between his teeth as he sucked in a lungful of air beside her, his whole body going rigid at her words. Silence fell on the other end of the line and Sarah felt a blanket of tension falling over the room.

‘I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,’ Edwards said, his voice tight, a moment later.

‘No, you’re not,’ Sarah replied. ‘I need to know, it’s my life that’s on the line. It’s just a little too prefect that you give me the only lifeline, a direct line to you should anything happen. Then the moment I’m off the plane, not more than two hours on US soil, the bastard tracks me down and takes out my British agent. Now, you’re telling me to be seen, be remembered…’

Luc’s hand reached for hers, his fingers gripped them tight, a squeeze of understanding at what she was saying. He was on her side and she felt the strain in her shoulders loosen a little.

When Edwards didn’t speak, she tried again. ‘Put yourself in my shoes, would you trust you?’

Edwards sighed and Sarah knew she’d won. She wanted to whoop at the thought, but kept her tongue firmly between her teeth. She wasn’t stupid enough to forget his threat all those months ago…

‘How can I prove it, Sarah?’ the Prime Minister asked. ‘I’m here in England and you’re over there. I can’t tell anyone you’re alive, any hint I knew that would put you, me, and my family in danger.’

Sarah frowned. How could his family be in danger? Aside from the royal family, they were the most protected people in the whole of the United Kingdom. If anything he should have huge balls in dealing with this considering—

Considering the Demon was seemingly able to get to anyone… Shit. What if someone on his protection team was compromised? Was that what he was trying to tell her?

‘Okay.’ She finally agreed, nodding her head despite the fact he couldn’t see her. ‘I’ll trust you, but if anything goes wrong, we’ll know who the leak is won’t we.’ It wasn’t a question.

‘Indeed. Now repeat the plan for me, Sarah.’

‘Utah, cash, story, be seen, fake trail, get safe, call you.’

‘Excellent. Good night, Sarah, Luc. I wish you both well.’ Edwards disconnected the call.

The phone made a fzzst sound and died.

Any questions, please drop them in the comments. Next update on Friday!

[evdarcy]

An Unusual Hero C10S3

Please remember, this is unedited and unfinished, but will hopefully fill in the holes that were left and answer some questions without leaving too many others. HOWEVER I will answer all and any questions if you want to leave me a comment.

Next update - Tuesday 22/06/2021

Sarah was going to kill him.

It was the thought that ran over and over in Luc’s head as they hightailed it up the highway. They were going to get to the cabin and she’d shoot him there. Plenty of places to hide a body in the woods. Hell, she wouldn’t even need to lug him outside, she could just leave him in the cabin. By the time anyone checked there she’d be long gone.

He’d thought she was going to smack him back in the library, he’d braced for it, ready to take the punch, but she’d surprised him when she’d just let go of his hand and ran her fingers through her hair in frustration before ordering him out. But it wasn’t as if he’d done it on purpose. He’d only ever used the damn thing as a watch; he’d never really looked into the ins and outs of it when Linda had thrown it at him a few months ago. He’d always dismissed his suspicions as ridiculous, a page from a Glynn West novel or something.

‘We won’t have long,’ Sarah told him, interrupting his musings of how many ways she could probably kill him. He blinked as he realised they were at the cabin and she was already half way up the path to the cabin. The engine was still running and she’d left the doors open. Clearly the mad dash had wiped away her fear of bears and wolves.

‘You grab the bags,’ she shouted over her shoulder as he climbed out the car. ‘And shove them in the boot—the trunk!’

‘What are you doing?’ he asked as he stepped inside the building. She was riffling through the drawers in the kitchen, hissing and cursing as she went. He grabbed the bag from the sofa and hoisted it over his shoulder as he moved to the bedroom to grab the others.

‘Destroying the evidence of us being here,’ she finally replied a second before he heard a match strike.

No. There was no way she was—

He stepped out of the bedroom and turned to where she stood in the dinning area, holding a match to the curtains that decorated the window frame. He swallowed as he watched the yellow flame jump from the match and race up the drapes, consuming them hungrily and leaving nothing behind. The flimsy nets that covered the window caught easily as the curtains crumbled off their pole and fluttered to the floor in a shower of ash and sparks, like a cheap firework.

‘Get going!’ Sarah was pushing him out the door before he realised what was going on, hypnotised by the dancing flames as they rushed to find new food to consume. They leapt across the top of the bookcase next to the window, feasting heartily, while another line meandered across the rugs towards the small sofa.

Luc stumbled outside, the door swinging closed behind him, and he dashed toward the stolen Excel. His feet brought him to a halt as he reached the driver’s door and a choice appeared before him.

He could run. He could jump in the car and leave Sarah behind. Head back into town where the watch had shown him to be and await rescue. He had no idea what Sarah would do, she’d probably run through the forest, head north as she planned, but on foot this time. Bears and wolves be damned.

The image of her squaring off against a bear and coming out victorious sprung to mind. Fucking failed trainee, as if. She certainly didn’t look like a failure when her eyes became hard, her face devoid of emotion, and she snapped out orders as if he were her servant.

He threw the bags in the back before glancing back towards the cabin. The curtains framing the window of the bedroom that looked over their little parking space suddenly caught fire. He had seconds to make a decision. He had the weapons, the clothes, her IDs…

He slammed the lid of the boot closed and hopped in the car a moment before the cabin door swung open and Sarah jumped out, over a licking flame that had wound its way towards the front of the cabin. She ran towards the car and yanked the driver’s door open, cursing up a storm as she jumped in the seat, threw the car in gear and sped out of the clearing. She carried the smell of burning; like a campfire on a cold night, and something about that settled Luc’s mind.

This woman, failure or not, hadn’t hurt him. She hadn’t shouted at him, hit him, or shot him. She could have done any or all of those things, but she’d done none. Hell, she was well within her rights to have left him sat in the library and gone off on her own. Instead, she hadn’t thought twice about him not being part of her hastily thrown together plan—as insane as it was.

‘Promise me there are no more surprises,’ she begged as they joined the 191 again and headed north. ‘You don’t have an implant or something do you?’ she scoffed, glancing between him and the road.

If it wasn’t for the fact that the tech didn’t yet exist to do such a thing—to his knowledge, at least—he would have paused over that question rather than shake his head immediately.

‘Alrighty then, so we’re good to ditch this’—she tapped the steering wheel—‘grab another and get the hell of dodge.’

Luc nodded, not really knowing what else to say.

‘Hey,’ Sarah said, a few minutes later. ‘We all make mistakes. We’d have had to leave that place shortly anyway, it would have just been better to not do it in such a rush… I feel bad I had to torch their home.’

Luc turned to look at her; she had an oopsy face, her bottom lip pushed to the side as she grimaced.

‘I don’t get why you did that. Are you going to do that to every place we stay?’

‘What? No,’ she said with a shake of her head. ‘If we’d have had time, I’d have scrubbed the place, but we didn’t. I don’t know when that message was sent to your watch; was it sent as soon as they located you, or was it sent hours later? Maybe it was sent when we were in town days ago and it only picked it up today when we went back there.’

Shit, he hadn’t thought of that.

‘But that’s more unlikely,’ she said as she relaxed back into her seat. ‘I imagine if that had been the case they’d have used it today to pinpoint you exactly and caught us at the library.’

If Sarah had genuinely been classed as a failure, Luc would hate to meet those that passed whatever test she hadn’t.

‘Also,’ she continued on. ‘Torching it makes them focus there for a while. Was it us? Was it someone else? Deliberate or accidental?’ Luc relaxed back in his seat, his gaze alternating between the scenery flying past them and the woman next to him as she continued on with her reasoning.

He’d made the right choice, he decided as Sarah leaned forward and switched on the radio, scanning the airwaves for news segments between songs. Other than inviting the Demon to them, he didn’t think he could screw up any bigger than he had today and Sarah hadn’t lashed out at him. She’d been disappointed, yes. Perhaps even angry, but none of that had transferred into any form of abuse towards him. If he’d gone back…

He shuddered to think what would have happened if he’d returned home, to LA, to Linda.

‘Oh, I love this song,’ Sarah said as she tuned into another station. It was disconcerting to know that the woman beside him had gone all pyromaniac on him ten minutes ago and was now singing along with an oldie station, but he felt safer with her than almost anyone else he knew.

He rested his head back against the chair and watched Sarah drive. Her head bobbing and swaying, fingers tapping in time to the tune, and her slightly off-key singing was at odds with the straight line of her shoulders, her rigid back, and her eyes snapping to the review mirror every ten seconds. She threw him a tight smile as she caught his eye in the mirror, turning her head to sing at him as if nothing was amiss. He returned her smile, a big easy grin he’d perfected over the years for convention weekends and posing with fans when it was the last thing he wanted to do, and she turned back to the road, her voice a little louder.

Luc’s smile immediately turned to a frown. Perhaps, she was telling the truth that she’d failed, but maybe he’d also been right; she could only turn into the a success when the chips were down.

An uneasy feeling settled in Luc’s gut. If she could only react like an action hero when they were threatened, how much danger would they face before it was all over?

Any questions, please drop them in the comments. Next update on Tuesday!

[evdarcy]

An Unusual Hero C10S2

Please remember, this is unedited and unfinished, but will hopefully fill in the holes that were left and answer some questions without leaving too many others. HOWEVER I will answer all and any questions if you want to leave me a comment.

Next update - Friday 18/06/2021

Sarah’s head snapped up, her eyes wide as she frantically looked around. Her hand went straight for her gun at the small of her back as she tried work out where she was.

‘Easy, cowboy,’ Luc’s low voice said, his eyes watched her over the top of the computer screen. She focused on his beautiful green eyes, just visible above the line of the monitor and reminded herself she was safe, away from the Demon and all the devastation he brought. She took a couple of deep breaths, removing her hand from her gun, and let her eyes slowly drift around the room to take in everything she could see.

That’s right, they were at the library. They’d come to charge her phone and check on the news being reported on the aftermath of their escape two days ago—God, it felt like a lifetime already. She glanced at the phone on the desk and groaned as she saw the charging icon’s green bars still quickly rising before dropping away to nothing and repeating the cycle all over again.

She sighed heavily as she dropped her head back to the crook of her arm and stared across the table to where Luc sat. He’d gone back to his web search, browsing for everything he could on the Demon, probably something she should be doing too, but she was pinning all her hopes on the phone-thing working out exactly as she pictured it in her head. She was sure it would connect her to some super secret phone, deep in the depths of a hidden bunker somewhere under London, only accessed by the Prime Minister, the highest military personnel in the UK armed forces, and a cleaner. Just the one. They’d probably be paid hundreds of thousands of pounds to nip in and spruce the place up a couple of times a week… Man, she’d love a job like that.

She sighed. Trying to dismiss her daydreams. She watched far too much TV. It would probably just connect to the GPS in the device and tell her where to go—maybe she’d have to meet someone and give them a code, something like the bees only collect honey when—

She shook her head, rubbing it along the soft, thick jumper she’d donned that morning. She really didn’t have a clue what the hell the locket’s secret port was going to do, but she really should be considering what to do next just in case it didn’t—

She buried her head against her arm and squeezed her eyes shut tight against the sour thought. God help them if the phone didn’t work. She didn’t really have the first clue what to do without Jack leading the way. When they’d hightailed it out of Vegas she’d just followed the road, determined to put as much space between her and the wreck of an escape as possible. She’d simply driven until she was too tired to keep her eyes open any longer and had only pulled over in a beautiful, secluded spot by happen-chance.

‘Shit,’ Luc’s voice broke the silence of the library. She lifted her head slightly, managing to peer at him just over her arm.

‘What?’ she asked, her voice muffled by her sleeve. He didn’t say anything, his focus still on the screen before him, and Sarah quietly watched as his eyes quickly scanned whatever he’d found. She groaned as she rolled her head back up along her arm, before it rested on her shoulder and she stared out the window at the far end of the table.

Maybe they’d cancelled Destiny. Perhaps, Marc had finally come out about the secret love affair some of the fans swore he and Luc were having. What if Linda had actually… if she’d…

Damn, she couldn’t even come up with something good to finish that train of thought. She just didn’t have the energy to do anything. A single day of sitting around and doing nothing had zapped her of every ounce of motivation she had—although the nightmares starting up again didn’t help. She’d been like a sloth yesterday, barely moving from under the thick blanket she’d wrapped herself in before plonking her arse in front of the fire in the sitting room. She’d started reading the books Jack had left in the back of the car and asking the occasional question to Luc who seemed quite well informed on the matter of the Smoky Mountains. She’d been very impressed when he’d told her that it was very different to the Teton’s where they currently were.

‘But do the Smokies have bears?’ she’d asked.

‘Yup. Black bears.’ She didn’t ask for him to clarify if that was better or worse; surely they would still try and eat her if she came across one?

‘Wolves?’ she’d said, hesitantly.

‘Not as many as up here, but still a few. They’re quite endangered though and you’d rarely see one outside of the national park.’

She drummed her fingers again, wondering if perhaps a mountain side cabin hidden away somewhere would be a good place for them to hide. The little one they had commandeered was okay, but it wasn’t right. It was too close to the road and right next to a huge tourist spot. It would be too easy for them to be stumbled upon. Or for the owner to decide to come visit.

Sarah sighed and pushed herself up to sit properly in the chair again. She held up the phone to check the charge and heaved another exaggerated sigh as she rolled her head back across her shoulders.

‘Do you have to?’ Luc stared over the top of the monitor at her. She made to mimic him, but the look in his eyes gave her pause.

‘What’s up?’ she asked, putting the phone back on the desk and leaning over the table as if she’d be able to see the screen. He simply stared back at her for a moment before he turned the monitor around to face her. There, on the Geek Chic! website, was a huge headline announcing that Casey McManaman had been caught in the blast and was suspected dead hidden somewhere amongst the rubble.

‘Shit,’ she breathed as her eyes began to scan the piece. Luc made to swing the screen back around but Sarah grabbed it and held firm as she read what had happened. Her stomach dropped; there had been almost twenty people in that morning’s meet and greet including Casey, his security, some convention VIPs and staff, and a Geek Chic! reporter called Paige Hamilton. Their meeting room had been on the ground floor directly outside the blast area; they were probably the worst hit of the whole disaster. In two days they’d found nothing but bodies in the debris and they weren’t holding out any hope for anyone else.

Slowly Sarah raised her eyes back to Luc’s. She saw anger simmering there, but guilt and sorrow warred with it. She bit her lip as she let go of the screen and sat back.

He said nothing as he turned the monitor back around and Sarah followed his lead; what the hell could she say? I’m sorry? She wanted to snort at the thought. Sorry I killed your friend and co-star, a guy you’ve known and worked with for five years. Someone who was probably more like family to you because of how often you had to work together…

Although, Casey did play a demon, he was probably friendlier with Marc more than Luc, so—

She shook her head of that callous thought. God, she could be a right bitch sometimes. At least this time she hadn’t said it out loud as was often the case.

‘Luc, I—’

A quick, high pitched beep-beep made Sarah’s words stop. She glanced down to the phone, excitement making her heart pound in her chest as she grabbed the device, but the little picture of the battery was still quickly filling and dropping, filling and dropping. She frowned as she shook the thing, as if that could somehow make the little picture remain green.

‘Um, Sarah.’ A nervous tremor in Luc’s words caught her attention. Her head snapped to him and took in his pale face; any anger he might feel towards her was gone and replaced with sheer fear and panic.

‘What?’ She dropped the phone back to the wooden worktop as she stood up and leaned over the desk to try to see the screen again. Luc didn’t say a word, instead he slowly lifted his closed fist in front of his face. Sarah went to slap it away, but her hands instead closed around his fingers as her eyes spied the watch on his wrist that no longer displayed the time.

‘So. Funny story,’ Luc began, squirming in his seat with embarrassment and nerves. Sarah’s eyes flickered from the device to his eyes and back again. She licked her lips as her mind tried to piece together what she was seeing and what the hell it meant.

Picked up the GPS on your watch—don’t move, help on way. Linda.

Sarah met his eyes again as the text continued to scroll across the tiny screen.

‘You have a smartwatch?’ She spoke her words quietly, trying not to explode the way her mind was telling her to release the sudden wave of panic that washed over her. ‘A smartwatch with GPS.’

‘I didn’t think—’ he began, before Sarah cut him off.

‘No you didn’t!’ She threw his hand back at him. ‘Everything you’ve touched, wipe it all down.’ She hissed her order, trying not to draw attention from the tables around then. As calmly as she could, she grabbed the phone, unplugged the charger, and threw them both into her handbag.

‘Take that off,’ she said when they began to head for the exit.

‘I’m so sorry—’

‘Not now,’ she she said through clenched teeth as she smiled at the librarian as they left. She took the device from him as they stepped outside and headed to the car—luckily, they’d been able to snag a parking spot near the building’s entrance.

‘Get in,’ she told him as she popped the locks again, but she didn’t join him. Instead, she hurried to the back, shoving the fancy watch under the rear wheel before spinning on her heel and opening her door. She jumped inside, throwing Luc a quick look of disappointment before she began playing with the wires again to get the car to spring into life.

‘Don’t say anything,’ she told him when the car’s engine roared. ‘I don’t want to hear apologies,’ she said as they tore out the lot with a squeal of rubber on asphalt and the crunch of glass and metal as they destroyed the tracker. She manoeuvred carefully through the busy afternoon streets, her mind whirling with thoughts of what to do.

They needed a quick get away but they also needed something to distract from them. Something to grab the attention of the locals to get them talking to the police, FBI, CIA, or whoever they’d be sending for them about that rather than them…

‘We’ve got to ditch this thing,’ she told him, running her fingers over the steering wheel. She put her foot down as they hit the 191 again. ‘You said there’s a national park around?’

‘Yeah,’ he said quickly, nodding his head rapidly. ‘It’s further up the state, and you’ve got Yellowstone further north again.’

‘Plan of action then.’ She took a deep breath, quelling her rolling stomach and bracing herself to try and sound convincing. ‘Back to cabin and grab everything. Then we hit Yellowstone—that’s more touristy right?’ Sarah caught Luc’s head bob from the corner of her eye. ‘Okay, we grab a car there and dump this thing. Then we drive back the way we came, hit Grand Teton and switch out again. We’ll keep going south, doubling back almost on the way we first came—they won’t expect us to do that. They probably already think we’re heading for the Canadian border.’

‘Where we really headed?’ he asked quietly. Sarah pursed her lips as she considered her options. She had an ID in Utah. She couldn’t use it, but Utah was full of Mormons and the church’s headquarters were based in Salt Lake City. Even if she hadn’t studied the culture for one of her covers, she knew—because everyone did—that the Mormon church sent missionaries all over the world and did most of it from Salt Lake. The city was probably just as touristy as the national parks but for different reasons. They could probably blend in there.

‘What do you know about Mormons?’

Any questions, please drop them in the comments. Next update on Friday!

[evdarcy]

An Unusual Hero C10S1

Please remember, this is unedited and unfinished, but will hopefully fill in the holes that were left and answer some questions without leaving too many others. HOWEVER I will answer all and any questions if you want to leave me a comment.

Next update - Tuesday 15/06/2021

Jacqui’s voice called out, just a few floors below them, shouting, begging someone not to—

And then her voice stopped. Covered by another shower of bangs and crashes.

Sarah watched as Greg turned to them; his eyes wide with fear and his face deathly white as the sounds of terror continued to echo below them. Carl grabbed the door frame as the reality of the surreal situation they were in hit him, and Sarah couldn’t blame him. They were stuck. Trapped on the fifth floor, the two stairwells at either end of the corridor led down to each floor below them.

They were in the tallest block of the school’s make up and the most sought after rooms had become their sarcophagus.

‘Miss—’ one of the students whispered behind her and Sarah’s brain kicked back into force. She turned to them, her finger to her lips as she surveyed the twenty-two scared faces of the fifteen and sixteen year olds before her. She had always taken the phrase in loco parentis to heart, and now she knew that she truly would be willing to die for each and every one of them.

‘Quietly,’ she whispered, loud enough to be heard all the way to the back of the room, but not enough to call attention to them from outside. ‘Pack your things. Make it look like we were never here. Gary,’ she addressed a large boy who was well known for playing rugby and rowing for the school. ‘I need you to open the hatch.’

Gary blinked at her, a clear look of you must be joking written on his face. The hatch was a common joke to her students. Her room was the only classroom in the entire school with a ladder to the roof hidden within its stock cupboard. It was Sarah’s jokey escape should a zombie apocalypse ever occur and had been used often for team building lessons; her form had even planned an escape route and survival guide just a few months before. They’d thought it brilliant fun, a way to sit off for the afternoon, but now Sarah tried desperately to recall the half formed ideas and jokes they’d come up with, anything she might be able to quickly convert into a realistic chance for them to survive… This.

‘The lock is probably rusted; it’s going to need someone strong to get it to move,’ she explained to the stunned boy. ‘Can you do it? Quickly?’

The stocky boy pushed his chair back and quietly made his way into the cupboard as she turned her attention to the whiteboard to remove that day’s work. The room had to look empty. Unused. She wanted whoever they were to only glance in then walk away.

Sarah heard Carl’s class next door as they began to panic, calling to both him and Greg to get them out. To save them. Their voices growing louder and louder as they tried to talk over one another and Sarah knew they were about to go into full on panic mode. But they couldn’t; if they did they would know someone was up here. She had to go and calm them.

‘Listen,’ Sarah hissed at her own group as she turned back to the room and noticed that the desks were now clear, the students’ bags repacked and all eyes focused upon her. Their silent gaze was as strong and powerful as the vocal pleas from the other classroom. ‘We need to do this quickly and quietly. We cannot panic. If we do—’

A loud Fuck! from Gary sounded just before a screech of metal upon metal caused the whole class to wince. A second later, another round of screams assailed them from down the stairs and Sarah shut her eyes as the hideous foreign noises of gunfire cut them off. She pictured the students huddling under their desks, trying to hide in the stock rooms, attempting to climb out of windows that didn’t open, trapped like lab rats as—

I actually based this classroom set up on one of my own classrooms when I was teaching years ago. I was the only teacher in the school that actually did have a hatch in my stockroom / store cupboard / resource room that let to the roof. And the zombie exercise was something that I did do with a form that I had - it was sometimes difficult to come up entertaining ideas of how to keep the class busy at form time, so a long term project of forming survival plan of getting from the classroom to safety in a zombie apocalypse was sheer genius IMO. Any questions, please drop them in the comments. Next update on Tuesday!

[evdarcy]

An Unusual Hero C9S1

Please remember, this is unedited and unfinished, but will hopefully fill in the holes that were left and answer some questions without leaving too many others. HOWEVER I will answer all and any questions if you want to leave me a comment.

Next update - Friday 11/06/2021

They hadn’t spoken much after she’d reappeared from the bathroom. General conversations about food and setting the fireplaces correctly were the highlights of the long night. When Sarah had fantasied about candlelit dinners with the star, eating soup and bread in total silence and barely sparing a glance at one another hadn’t been exactly what she’d imagined. But something strange had settled around them.

He’d been fine in the car, after their shopping spree; singing along to the classic ballads that had spilt from the tinny radio and melting her insides with his deep, dulcet tones. But once they’d arrived at the cabin he’d spied, he’d become fidgety and agitated. When he’d come stalking back with the log in hand to smash the window, Sarah had thought he was going to conk her on the head and run away.

She had hoped that after his shower he’d have calmed down, but…

Sarah shuddered as she recalled the look of horror on his face as his deep green eyes saw her stylist set. It hadn’t been one of merely realising that she’d be the one to cut his hair. Then when her hands had felt his neck…

Her own face had probably made a similar one to his when she’d cut away his long, flowing locks and saw the marks down his freckled neck; here and there were thin silvery scars that resembled cuts and round puckered marks that looked like they’d once been burns. Had a stunt he’d done gone wrong just before Destiny? Was that the real reason for the long hair, to hide his marred skin from nosey eyes and prying cameras?

Sarah frowned into the darkness as she shifted on the pile of blankets on the cold bedroom floor and tried to recall any articles she’d read or interviews she’d watched where it would have been discussed. The scars looked years old, so perhaps they’d come from when he’d been in his earlier days and the studios hadn’t much cared about a no-name actor getting hurt. But then that didn’t make much sense about why they hadn’t been discussed later.

With all the shit she remembered about him she was pretty certain she’d recall something like that if it had been mentioned.

She pursed her lips as she thought about how he’d jumped away from her touching his bare skin, and the look of worry and dread he’d worn when she’d called it a night and insisted they share the bedroom—less chance of them being separated if someone found them.

Was his back a mess of scars too? How far down did they go? Part of her wanted to wrap him up in cotton wool at the thought, the other part wanted to see them badly.

Probably why he doesn’t want you looking, her mind mocked.

She twisted in the blankets once more, trying her other side to alleviate the ache running down her leg and the throb in her hip. She bit back the growl of frustration that wanted to rumble from her lips as she heard Luc moving about in the bed again. At first, the gentle wisps of shifting cotton as the star had settled had been a soothing balm to Sarah’s mind as she tried to follow him into the land of nod, but now…

‘Will you lie still!’ she snapped, throwing the blankets off her body as she sat up to glare in his direction. He huffed as he turned again and Sarah silently counted to ten, picturing him on his back, staring up at the ceiling before—

The sound of him moving once more pulled a frustrated groan from her. She buried her face in her hands as she heard him punching the pillows in his own annoyance.

‘How do you do it?’ His voice was muffled, he was probably face down in the soft, feather stuffed pillows.

‘Do what?’ she asked raising her head again as she searched the floor next to her for a torch.

‘Sleep, after all… that.’ His voice was clear this time and Sarah could hear him moving around again.

‘Hang on,’ she muttered as she fiddled with the tiny metal flashlight. ‘Can’t find the bloody swi— Ah!’

Bright white light flooded her vision and made her head reel back with a low unhappy hiss from her lips. She cursed as she tried to blink the blind spots from her eyes, loosing all train of thought as she waited for her vision to return.

‘Get used to what?’ she asked as she turned the light towards the bed; Luc sat against the headboard, his pillow propped up behind him. He looked like a petulant child with his arms crossed and a scowl scrunching his face.

‘Death. Destruction. Mayhem.’

Ah. Yesterday was finally hitting him.

She was glad the light was pointing towards him, shrouding her in shadow so he couldn’t see the way she sunk her teeth into her lower lip as she tried to figure out what to say. She didn’t have all the answers; no one had been able to give them to her—not to her satisfaction anyway—and she’d hoped that by the time someone asked her, she’d have it all figured out.

‘You just get used to it,’ she told him with a sigh as she pushed herself up off the floor. She wrapped the blanket around her and shuffled towards the bed, trying not to trip on the abundance of fabric around her feet. ‘You have to. There’s nothing you can do; you can’t go back in time and change things.

‘But it does get easier,’ she continued, softening her voice as she saw his face fall. ‘I know it doesn’t seem like it, I know it’s crazy and mad right now, and it sounds like a total cliché, but it’s true; time makes it easier.’

‘That doesn’t make it right.’ He spoke the truth, something she couldn’t deny and completely agreed with. After all, if she allowed herself to, every day she’d make a wish to go back in time and change things, to make the outcome of everything better than it was. Twelve months ago she’d have walked into the room the Demon had taken over in her school, swallowed down her fear of death, and fired the gun without consequence, taking the lot out—him, his men, even the children and herself if need be. At least then the fifty-one kids wouldn’t have endured what they’d undoubtedly had before they’d died.

Oh, Sarah was under no illusion that any of the students she’d lost to the bastard were still alive.

At least she hoped they weren’t. Their reality would be far worse than death.

But thinking along that line meant she now had a second wish to make; going back just two days and putting a bullet in the bastard’s head when she’d had her second chance.

But her wishes wouldn’t come true, and it would be a waste of time and effort right now. She could wallow in guilt and contemplate all the what ifs and might have beens after this was over.

If she was still alive.

‘I know, and I get it,’ she told him with a heavy heart as she sat on the edge of the bed. He stared at her and she wished she could lean over and smooth out the scowl from his face as she continued. ‘But there is literally nothing you can do now. Unless you want to go hand yourself in—which I really don’t recommend. And only then that will merely ease your guilt, not fix things.

‘What you did was for the greater good.’ She pulled her legs up on the bed and sat cross-legged to face him. She pulled the blanket tighter around her, trying to stop the cold air from working its way to her already shivering form—God it was cold this far north for May! She tucked the fabric under her legs and just allowed the torch to peek up through the edges.

‘You had to run, Luc, you had to make sure that you got out of there because you are worth more with me than you are dead or in a police cell.’

‘But those people… They were just going about their day—’

‘You didn’t do anything.’ She pulled her arm from the warm confides and reached over to gently press her hand against his bare forearm. His skin was warm to the touch and she wondered how warm the rest of his body would be pressed against hers. She licked her lips and dismissed the wayward thought.

‘All you did was follow my instruction. I was the one who set the explosives, I’m the one who blew the place up. If there are any deaths, I’m the one responsible.’

‘If? Oh, come on,’ Luc said, disbelievingly as he shrugged her hand from his arm. ‘You know people got killed, there was no way an explosion that big wasn’t going to cause deaths.’

Sarah took a deep breath, trying to follow her own advice and swallow the ball of guilt in her throat at the comment. ‘Yeah, I know, but they’re on my head not yours.’

It was true. The whole thing rested squarely on her shoulders and not merely because she’d set the bombs. She’d known of the target on her back, knew the Demon was actively looking for her; she should never have gone to the damn hotel in the first place. She should have refused David point blank rather than squealing like the stupid fangirl she was.

Her hand snuck back under the cover of her blanket, her fingers curling in on themselves at the self-loathing she felt deep within herself as Luc stared at her, his mouth open, his eyes wide with horror as if she were some cruel, twisted creature. Her face was a calm mask of indifference, a charade she needed right now to get him to stick with her, to get through this. She couldn’t, wouldn’t add his name to her ever-growing list.

‘How do you deal with it all?’ he asked, incredulously. Sarah shrugged her shoulders and fiddled with the bottom of the torch, making the beam dance across the ceiling in a strange ballet.

‘I know I have a lot of names against me,’ she started, carefully. She glanced up to the bouncing light and watched it jump and swoop until she finally held it firm. ‘I know each and every one of them that I couldn’t save in the school,’ her voice was low but resolute. ‘And I will learn each of those who got hurt in the blast, those who died because I misjudged the amount of C4 I needed. Each one of them is listed on my ticket to hell, but I can’t stop right now. I can’t rest or relax, not until The Demon is brought to justice or he gets a bullet in the head—I’ll take either. But there’s more at stake here than those in that hotel.’

He didn’t say anything, but she felt his eyes upon her, weighing her words, assessing their reasoning.

‘No,’ he said the word slowly, carefully, almost as if he wasn’t sure he should say what he was about to. ‘I get that. I meant, all of it. How do you deal with everything you’ve been through? Like you said earlier, your parents and everyone else you loved thinks you’re dead—you watched your own funeral for fuck’s sake!’

She glanced at him in surprise at his question, completely taken off guard. Until earlier that afternoon she’d never spoken of that day, never told anyone how she’d felt watching her family cry and grieve over her. But the way he was looking at her now, his eyes searching for something she wished she knew how to give him, she swallowed her fear and finally admitted, ‘It— It was an awful thing to watch.

‘They kept saying it would help, but it didn’t. It was bad enough watching my family crying and sniffling, but Jimmy… God!’ She dropped her head back and stared up at the spot of light on the ceiling again, recalling her fiancé’s devastation. She’d ached for weeks afterwards, longed for him, wept as if it were he who’d died and left her.

How she’d fallen into David’s bed to try and ease the pain.

‘I’ll always remember his eyes,’ she said, her voice quiet and low. ‘How empty they were; red rimmed and puffy. He sat on his own in the church, refusing anyone’s comfort. When it came to the graveside he stood there alone. He wouldn’t speak to anyone, didn’t accept my sisters’ embraces or even acknowledge my parents. He just walked away the moment the service ended without anyone at his side…’

She’d asked a number of people if they could find out if Jimmy was okay, if he was coping, but each and every one of them had denied her, telling her it was just better to let go and stop thinking about him, to move on. But how did you do that when you were trapped in a barracks and had no freedom, no escape from the ever pressing thoughts that swirled around your head. When you knew the reason you were there was because you no longer existed to everyone, even if you were screaming the place down. How many times had she destroyed her bunk as she screamed over and over, I’m alive! I still matter! Don’t forget me, because I won’t forget you!

‘I’m sorry,’ Luc’s soft voice reached out to her. ‘I didn’t mean to pry.’

She shook her head, surprised to feel a tear sneaking its way down her cheek at the movement. ‘S’okay,’ she muttered, wiping her eyes with the blanket’s edge.

‘No, it’s not.’ His hand reached out to hers and removed the flashlight from her fingers. He took her hand in his and pulled her towards him at the top of the bed, shifting over from the centre of the mattress to the left to give her some space to settle down. ‘That sounds like torture, not therapy.’

She’d thought the same thing, wondering who was watching her watching it and what sick twist they got from it, but she kept that thought to herself.

‘Christ,’ he breathed as he rubbed his hands over his face.

Silence fell upon them again, but this time it didn’t feel so heavy. Telling him that part of herself, revealing something she’d kept hidden for so long felt like a relief. As if she’d been holding onto something heavy, a rock in her stomach that disintegrated as she spoke.

She glanced to her left and saw Luc’s handsome profile; his nose was perfectly straight—she ran her finger down the kink in hers from where The Demon had smacked her—his chin was strong, and his brow was rather prominent, something she hadn’t noticed before. He’d been the man for her dreams for so long, but right now he wasn’t Luc Truman, star of Destiny! He was just someone willing to listen. Someone trying to cope with coming to terms with everything she’d had a year to do, surrounded by a ton of experts—supposedly—in all different fields.

And all he had was her.

Well, shit.

‘I’m a screwup.’ The words tumbled from her mouth before she even realised she’d thought them. Luc turned her, his brows once more lowered, but this time in curiosity.

‘That’s why they put me in protective custody,’ she continued to answer his unspoken question. ‘Originally, the plan had been to train me in everything you’ve seen me do and then some; explosives, marksmanship, picking locks, and stealing cars. Physical fitness, disguising myself’—she ticked them off her fingers—‘following a target, hiding in a crowd. I even did parachuting and abseiling—that’s a lot of fun by the way—and a ton of other stuff, but I was shit at it.’

‘You don’t seem shit at it.’

‘Oh, please,’ she scoffed. ‘You saw the result of my work yesterday, you just had a go at me for it.’

‘Yeah, but…’ He licked his lips as he searched for something to say. ‘You opened the car and started it pretty quickly.’

She frowned at that, remembering how stunned she’d been at the fact she’d done it first time. ‘Couldn’t do it today with this place though.’ Great, now she sounded like the sullen teenager.

He seemed to mull over her words before he said, ‘Maybe you’re just better under pressure?’

She thought that over for a minute before she shrugged and agreed with a muttered, ‘Maybe.’

The pair sat in silence for a few minutes, weighing up all that had been said. It wasn’t until Luc huffed and began to rearrange his pillows that Sarah realised she’d been staring off into space.

‘I’ll let you get back to sleep,’ she said, beginning to unfold herself from her blanket cocoon. She was about to climb off the bed when a hand touched her arm. She glanced down where Luc’s hand rested, his fingers gentle on her cool skin, before looking back at the star.

‘We can share you know,’ he said. She heard the hesitation in his voice and considered saying no, to give him some space. She couldn’t see his eyes properly in the light—not without shining the beam directly at him!—but his face did appear softened, not hostile as it had been.

And the bed was comfortable.

‘Thanks.’ He released her arm and she climbed off the bed to lift the covers and snuggle underneath them. She sighed, a deep long breath of pleasure as her taunt body sank into its fluffy embrace.

It was heavenly.

Luc huffed a chuckle and she rolled over to glare at him. He was facing her too, one of his arms under the pillow under his head, the other holding the blanket to his chest. The torch light between them cast weird shadows over his face, but a small smile played at his lips. She couldn’t help but smile back as she switched off the torch and tucked it under her pillow.

‘Do you need to wear that?’ she heard him murmur in the darkness.

‘What?’

He reached out and patted her arm where she’d wrapped a small holster to keep the small 9mm close to hand.

‘Safer,’ she muttered as she snuggled further into the pillow when his hand fell away.

When Luc’s breathing finally became relaxed and deep, Sarah opened one lid and tried to make him out in the darkness.

She wasn’t alone any more. The feeling made her chest relax, made breathing easier as she realised someone else shared her secret. Knew the things she did. And, it was completely selfish of her, she was actually glad she wasn’t the only one with the target on her back now.

While she’d been crowded by people over the last year, and yes they’d been potential targets because they were protecting her, none of them knew the human face of the devil. Not a single one had nightmares of pure evil hidden behind the Demon’s mask.

But Luc knew. Luc had seen the bastard with his own eyes. He’d stared at him in justified horror and cowered in validated fear.

She’d help him not have to cower, she decided as she closed her eyes and invited sleep to come. She’d help him stand tall and face the bastard again, and together they’d take The Demon out and put an end to this living nightmare.

Any questions, please drop them in the comments. Next update on Friday!

[evdarcy]

An Unusual Hero C8S3

Please remember, this is unedited and unfinished, but will hopefully fill in the holes that were left and answer some questions without leaving too many others. HOWEVER I will answer all and any questions if you want to leave me a comment.

Next update - Friday 21/05/2021

‘C’mere,’ Sarah said as he stopped in the doorway. She waved eagerly at him. She was clearly excited by whatever she had in mind, but the enthusiasm wasn’t helping him. He felt his heart rate speed up, his breathing getting shallower, quicker, as his eyes roamed over the table. She’d set out a stylist’s set; combs, the useless clippers, a tub of something, a water bottle with one of those spraying things on top Claude was always using on him, and scissors…

Sharp, pointy scissors.

‘C’mon, while your hair’s still damp.’ He heard her patting the dining chair she stood behind with far too much energy, but his eyes were glued on the silver blades. They glistened in the sunlight that fell through the window behind Sarah, and he realised these were brand new, still freshly sharpened, and knew exactly how much they could hurt—

‘I’ve done this before,’ Sarah said, frowning at him from across the room. ‘If that’s what you’re worried about.’

He swallowed and nodded his head minutely, finally acknowledging her.

‘Really?’

Sarah nodded and offered him a gentle smile. ‘My eldest sister taught me. I’m better with clippers, but I promise I can use scissors too—never given anyone a Van Gogh yet!’

He couldn’t help the snort of laughter that bubbled through his nose and lips. He rubbed his damp palms on his trousers, building up his courage. ‘Okay then,’ he finally said. ‘Just give me a second.’

He ducked back into the bedroom and turned his face heavenward as he tried to gather himself together. He could do this, Sarah hadn’t hurt him in any way since they’d run.

Yeah for all of two days, his mind tried to unhelpfully remind him as he heard Sarah moving things around; the scrape of a chair on the floor, the scratch of metal over the wood of the table as she moved her accessories into whatever formation she wanted. She grunted and huffed, swearing under her breath, and Luc swore he heard a thud of something heavy hitting the floor.

It might have only been two days—and today wasn’t even over!—and yesterday might have seen them running for their lives, but never once had she looked at him with anything even mildly resembling contempt.

But that was exactly how it started with Linda, his mind sneered.

He shook his head, recalling how he’d felt that morning, watching Sarah sashay her way across the store towards him. How she’d distracted him completely from acting out the role he’d made for himself. He’d been hypnotised by the sway of her hips, had wanted to grab them and hold them against him. For years he’d backed away from any roles that would have seen him engage in such contact, he’d had his pick of starring with some of the most beautiful and talented actresses in the world and he’d turned them all down so he’d never lose sight of what monsters women could be. He’d point-blank refused to do a love story arc on Destiny for the same reason.

Now, a pair of eyes the colour of the ocean and lips as plump as— Wait, what was plump? Turkeys? Pillows? Luc shook his head. He wasn’t a poet, and there was certainly a reason he was in front of the camera and not writing behind it. Her lips were down right pornographic. All pouty and lush. Every time she looked his way he had a hard time not staring at them. From licking his own as he thought of how they’d feel pressed against his.

And now he knew exactly how her body felt against his. How soft and supple her pert, round ass was in his hand, how he’d like to get both hands on it, hold it as she rode him into—

He growled at himself as he rubbed his hand over his mouth and chin, before sliding down his neck—

The smooth skin jarred him, reminding him of why he was here, what the haircut meant. Shit.

He’d already made a choice to run with Sarah. To listen to her and leave everyone behind based solely on what she told him. But that had been when his body was being fuelled by adrenaline, when he had the weird thrill of escaping death pushing him forward. Now he had to decide did he really trust Sarah?

It wasn’t a question most people thought about when getting their haircut, but to him, it was almost a matter of life and death…

He took a deep breath, trying to centre himself again.

He could do this. He was thirty-four, not a child, he didn’t need to be scared of someone chopping his locks. Especially when said someone had already saved his life once and was merely trying to do it again.

That was a key point. Regardless of Sarah’s motivations, she ran hadn’t left him behind to fend for himself when she so easily could have. Also, she’d not forced him to join her, hadn’t twisted his arm and dragged him into the car. She’d given him the choice.

He dropped his hands to his side, took another deep breath and headed back into the living space with a smile on his face. Some fucking actor he was—he could feel how false it was.

‘So,’ he said, as Sarah looked up at him. His eyes did a double take of the room, halting the words in his mouth as he took everything in.

She’d moved the chair into the sitting-room part of the open planned room, putting it on top of one of the furniture dust sheets and had heaved the massive mirror from above the fireplace from its screws—shit, she was strong! She’d settled the silver framed glass against the stone fixture along its shorter side so he’d be able to see exactly what she was doing, without impeding her ability to cut.

‘So?’ she said, standing upright from her crouched position beside the chair. She tossed the dustpan’s brush she’d been using to clean the plastic seat on to the floor next to her feet before planting her hands firmly on those shapely hips. ‘Ready?’

‘Whose?’ he asked quietly, diverting his gaze to the chair to stop the sudden desire to march over to her and replace her hands with his own.

‘Pardon?’

‘Whose hair? You said you’d cut hair before, whose was it?’

‘Oh,’ Sarah said slowly. He felt her eyes on him as he slowly made his way towards her. ‘It was—’ She swallowed hard, making him glance up at her. Her lovely peachy face had drained of all colour making his brows rise in question. ‘Jimmy’s,’ she whispered.

‘Who’s Jimmy?’

She licked her lips. ‘My fiance.’

He watched as she turned away and busied herself with grabbing the side table by the sofa and settling it next to where she’d be standing behind the chair. Her hands moved the instruments again, unnecessarily, and Luc knew she didn’t want to talk about it, knew it was something he shouldn’t continue with, but he couldn’t help it. This woman was a mystery, wrapped in an enigma, encased in a what the fuck! He’d been sure she’d been sleeping with the agent The Demon had executed yesterday, but he thought his name was David, not Jimmy.

‘You’re engaged?’ he asked, unable to keep the surprise from his voice. He took his seat and watched in the mirror as she gathered her tools from the table and brought them over. Her step seemed a little slower, a little more hesitant now.

‘Not any more. He thinks I’m dead, remember. Everyone does. My parents, my sisters, friends, acquaintances, everyone who knew me on Facebook, everyone who followed me on Tumlbr… You get the picture.’

Luc turned his head to face her properly and she stopped mid-step when she saw him watching. ‘My funeral was very nice,’ she added before she continued setting up. His brow instantly folded into a map of wrinkles.

‘How the hell do you know that? Don’t tell me you went to your own funeral?’

He turned back in his seat, but almost fell from it when she said, ‘No, they recorded it for me.’

‘What the fuck?’ He gaped at her in the mirror. ‘Who does that?’

She shrugged her shoulders as she fiddled with the comb in her hands, playing with the teeth, watching as they flexed back and forth under her touch. It was the most vulnerable she’d been so far.

‘It was part of the process of giving up my life,’ she finally told him. ‘Seeing that everyone had said goodbye to me helped me acknowledge that my life, as it had been, was over.’

Luc watched as a myriad of emotions washed over her face—sadness, worry, longing—before she wiped them all away and raised her eyes to meet his in the mirror. How the hell did she do that?

‘Did you ever scalp Jimmy?’ he asked, trying to move the topic on. She snorted and he counted that as a win.

‘No, my sister’s a top stylist at some fancy salon in London. Gets paid a stupid amount of money to cut and style the hair of the rich and famous—bloody mugs. I mean they pay—’ She bit her lip as she realised what she’d said.

He chuckled. ‘It’s okay. I do pay far too much for what it is really. People could probably buy food for a week for what I pay Claude.’

‘I reckon you’d find it would more likely be a month.’

He jumped slightly as Sarah’s fingers touched the top of his hair; she glanced at him in the mirror again, before continuing on. She ran her fingers through his locks as she assessed it, pulling it this way and that as Claude often did. Her nails lightly dragged over his scalp and he couldn’t help the shudder that ran through him at the gentle touch and felt his eyes flutter closed as she gently began massaging his head and neck. He had to stop himself from turning limp as she kneaded a particular spot at the top of his neck.

God, that was good!

‘Your natural colour is showing a lot,’ Sarah murmured. He hummed his agreement as he sank further into the bliss her fingers were inducing, almost purring in pleasure. It had been so long since anyone had touched him so gently, so delicately. The pressure and stress seemed to just melt from him as Sarah’s fingers continued their work, dipping behind his ears and rubbing at just the right spot…

He sighed contentedly as she moved back to his neck, kneading down his spine with her knuckle, wiping away any desire he had to ever move again.

‘Want me to do your shoulders too?’ Sarah asked and he found himself nodding without thinking. If just his head and neck felt this good, his shoulders would feel—

He sat upright, his shoulder straightening, and pulled out of Sarah’s touch as she tried to reach under his t-shirt. ‘What are you doing?’ he asked, a tremor of fear in his hushed voice.

‘I was just going to— It’s easier to do it directly to skin than through—’

‘No.’ He pulled the neck of the T-shirt higher, back over his shoulders, and flung the towel he’d dried his hair with around his neck again to put an end to the matter completely. ‘I changed my mind; just cut my hair.’

‘Okay,’ she replied. He heard the unsure tone in the single word, but was grateful she didn’t ask any further questions. He watched as she picked up the comb and ran it through his locks, before she finally took the silvery scissors in hand. He closed his eyes as she lowered them to his hair—

Snip, snip, snip. Pause, brush of the comb. Snip, snip, snip. Pause, brush… The same routine over and over as she pulled his hair this way then that as she cut in the style she envisaged for him. He wasn’t actually sure he was okay with losing his long hair. Sure he was approaching his mid-thirties and a shorter cut would probably be more suited to the roles he’d start getting considered for soon, but he’d maintained it for so long… The beard too.

God, what if it was a mess? What if he didn’t look that much different? What if he didn’t suit short hair any more? Lars would kill him!

He shook his head at the thought, earning him a displeased mew from Sarah. She tutted and brushed his hair harder as if that could fix whatever little error he’d caused and carried on. A few minutes later she finally said, ‘Okay, nearly there.’

He took a deep, shuddering breath as she moved around the room. He heard a bag rustling before she uttered a triumphant ah-ha! And counted her steps back to him. The pop of a pot being unscrewed for the first time, the air escaping with the initial break of the seal before the lid unwound its way from the container made him jump a little. He heard her put it on the table just a moment before her fingers were back in his hair, pulling his much shorter but still thick locks this way then that as she styled it into what he was sure was going to be some ultra-trendy young style.

He ground his teeth at the thought. He wasn’t in his twenties any longer. He didn’t want to look as he had back then on the covers of Teen Dream and Sweetness.

‘There,’ she finally declared, dropping her hands away from him. ‘All done.’

He had no excuse now, no reason not to look. With dread deep in his gut he slowly opened his eyes to meet his reflection’s gaze.

He blinked in surprise. She’d actually done a good job. Long on top and shorter at the sides, but not too short, no scalp peeking through. It ever so slightly swept from left to right, but generally spiked up throughout the top in a fake I-just-got-out-of-bed style. He didn’t look anything like he had back in his break-out days. His hair was back to it’s original golden-brown; all the blond dye gone. It framed his face well, ensuring that he still looked filled out rather than slender, and he had to admit that the longer hair and the beard had made him look years older than he actually was. This made him look a good five years younger. A lot fresher. If he were auditioning again, this would be perfect—versatile, almost a blank slate.

Perhaps that’s what this was; a second chance. A shot at reinventing himself, starting his life over. He was mesmerised by the difference as he turned this way and that, and felt Sarah’s eyes watching him for a moment before she began to tidy up the evidence of their activity.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, his eyes flickering up to hers before darting back to look at his hair. ‘You’ve done a great job. I shouldn’t have doubted you.’

Sarah paused her tidying and met his eyes in the mirror; a luscious green forest meeting tropical waters. She studied him, puckering her lips as if she were going to say something, but she hesitated and instead shook her head and told him, ‘You’re welcome.’

She carefully took the towel from his shoulders—he noticed she didn’t touch him—and shook it out, letting the hair fall to meet the rest on the dust sheet.

‘I’m going for a shower now,’ she told him, before grabbing the fabric roll she’d put the stylist set in. Luc watched her as she left the room, her body stiff and he wondered for a brief moment what it would be like to let her touch his skin, to allow her to massage away the scars Linda had left.

He shook his head of the thought; Linda had cut far too deep for far too long…

Any questions, please drop them in the comments. Next update on Friday!

[evdarcy]

An Unusual Hero C8S2

Please remember, this is unedited and unfinished, but will hopefully fill in the holes that were left and answer some questions without leaving too many others. HOWEVER I will answer all and any questions if you want to leave me a comment.

Next update - Tuesday 18/05/2021

There were no power points.

Sarah’s mind whirled as she stood in the middle of the only bedroom the cabin provided, phone in one hand and its charger in the other.

How the hell were there no plug sockets?

She hadn’t found any in the living space and there weren’t any in the bedroom either. She’d pulled the chest of drawers away from the wall and the tiny bedside cabinets too, and there were none. Not a single one.

Although… She glanced back at each of the surfaces, there weren’t any lamps on any of them…

She wrenched her head skyward, staring up at the ceiling.

No lights.

The realisation sunk in as she continued to stare at the bare ceiling; no lights meant no electricity.

Well, shit.

She sighed, dropping her arms to her side. So much for finding out what the back up plan was. She perched on the edge of the bed and stared down at the useless phone. She’d have to find an internet cafe in town or a library—they usually had sockets for laptops to plug into. She pondered that thought for a moment, wondering if they could really afford to risk another trek back into Jackson. She was still unsure how the sales girl—Willow as Luc liked to keep reminding her—in the last store hadn’t noticed it was Luc right away. Didn’t teenagers watch TV anymore?

Okay, so the girl probably wasn’t a teenager and Sarah had to stop calling her a girl. She’d probably been about twenty—

Sarah shook her head. Why the hell was she still fixating on the silly bint? She had much bigger problems than some girl fluttering her lashes at her companion. Like, what the hell she was going to do with said TV star currently showering in the bathroom?

She groaned and flopped back on the large, soft bed. It had taken all her will power to not slide open that shower door and ask if he needed a hand. From what she’d seen of him that morning, she might need two!

No, no, she had to focus on the real problems right now and they had plenty of them to consider. She had no idea if David—the wanker—had compromised her WITSEC identities, and even if he hadn’t, her grabbing Luc and bringing him along for the ride had screwed everything up even more.

Even if all her aliases were still secure, all of her pseudonyms were single. No husbands, no kids. Not even a pet dog. And while it wouldn’t be a problem for she and Luc to pretend to be a couple—she stopped that train of thought right away—she had no paperwork for him and no clue how to get a false set created. As much as she’d been trained over the past year, forgery and meeting criminals with the intent to work with them had not been part of the programme.

She was also pretty certain that a star like Luc wouldn’t have the first clue either.

She held the uncharged phone up to look at it, recalling what Prime Minister Edwards had told her in their little emergency tête-à-tête…

The door closed behind the most powerful man in the United Kingdom, excluding even Jack from the conversation.

‘I know this has been hard, Sarah, and I know that the situation isn’t perfect,’ the Prime Minister said as he sat next to her on the itchy, wool blanket the army had provided as part of her bedding over the past year.

She couldn’t look up at him, couldn’t meet his eyes. She’d let them down and his false niceties weren’t helping.

‘I want you to have this,’ Edwards continued. Sarah glanced up out the corner of her eye as he held up a black velvet box. She snorted.

‘Really? You’re giving me jewellery as a send off present?’ Her tone of voice was far from respectful.

‘Just… take it.’ He used the same exasperated inflection she’d often used when dealing with an irritating child in class.

Really, she wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but she’d done that once before and there was no way she was going to do it again. Well, at least not at the moment. Perhaps, she’d send him a card with it written neatly inside when she got to the States. Maybe a postcard of the Golden Gate Bridge with it written in huge, black, capital letters as the message on the back. Instead, she took the box from his hands with a sigh.

She carefully opened it and saw the unusual, but pretty, necklace snuggled in its velvet bed. It was a block of silver on a long chain that looked far sturdier than any necklace she’d worn before, yet just as fine as her best piece had been back home.

She considered the design for a moment, her fingers brushing over the silver cuboid to feel its smooth, cold surface before she finally took it out. She threw the box on the bed as she examined the pendant. There were no fancy designs, engravings, or layers. No hinges or lines indicating openings that she could see. The weight wasn’t balanced; the top of the block heavy, the bottom end quite light.

‘Okay, I give up,’ she said holding it out to him in the palm of her hand. He chuckled and shook his head, before taking it from her and holding it out to fasten around her neck. She lifted her hair and turned her back to him to allow him access.

‘This is something very special,’ Edwards said as he fastened the clasp. He took her hair in his hands and arranged it over her shoulders again before she turned back to him, this time meeting his rich, brown eyes. ‘If you find yourself out in the wild, if things don’t go to plan and you have to make a dart for it, then you are to use this.’

The Prime Minister took the pendant from its place atop her t-shirt and held it up. He pressed the longest sides with his thumb and index finger, and Sarah watched, surprised, as a tiny port popped out the bottom.

‘Whoa, just like James bond. How the hell—’

‘Don’t ask. If people believe that the crap Bond gets is a far fetched fantasy, then we have the advantage.’ He threw her a wink and she chuckled. ‘Get a mobile phone that has a charging connection of this type and plug it in. It will do the rest to get you instructions for the back up plan.’

Sarah stared at the little port, wondering what it did. She glanced up at the Prime Minister who gave her a small smile. The guy was a hardarse, there was no doubt about it. His threats to her the day she’d arrived at the base still rang clear in her ears, but it had been for her own good. This wasn’t something to take lightly.

‘Good luck, Sarah,’ Edwards said as he stood. ‘But I hope you don’t need it.’

Well, she fucking needed it now!

She sighed as she dropped her arm back to the bed, it bounced slightly as it hit the soft mattress. What Sarah wouldn’t do to just be able to climb in the bed, snuggle under the thick duvet, and never come out. She rubbed her arms over the cover as if she were in snow and trying to make an angel. It was soft and fluffy and—

‘You okay?’ Luc asked. Sarah jumped at the unexpected interruption—how long had she been lying there?—and struggled to sit up.

Luc raised a brow at her as he rubbed a towel over his long, wet, bleached blond hair and Sarah felt her mouth drop open.

This was Luc Truman.

Ignoring the hair, this was the older version of the man she’d fell in lust with over a decade ago. There was no beard, no stubble, not even the hint of a five o’clock shadow. Sarah blinked as she tried to formulate words but the only ones that wanted to come out were, Anything you want… I’m yours.

Her hands itched to feel that smooth, fair skin, to hold his cheeks between her palms as she counted the freckles on his nose and the few scattered over his cheeks. At least he’d put on the jeans and dark grey t-shirt she’d left on the top of the toilet, she realised as her eyes took in the rest of him as she tried to regain her ability to speak.

So it is true, her mind teased as she saw his large feet, bare against the wooden floor. Sarah felt the flush in her cheeks as the image of Luc’s large, thick cock hanging out of his jeans earlier popped into her mind and—

‘Sarah?’

‘Yup,’ she said as she quickly stood up and headed back towards the living room. ‘There’s no power though,’ she told him. ‘Good job we got those torches. But it means that I can’t use the clippers so it’s going to have to be snip-snip the whole way.’ She made the scissor sign with her fingers as she disappeared back into the living area.

‘Beg your pardon?’ he asked, his voice rising slightly. ‘You’re cutting my hair?’

‘Well, of course. So don’t piss me off or I’ll give you back the curtains you had in Mercy.’

‘Don’t you dare!’

Sarah smirked as she heard his feet hurrying after her.

Any questions, please drop them in the comments. Next update on Tuesday!

[evdarcy]

An Unusual Hero C8S1

Please remember, this is unedited and unfinished, but will hopefully fill in the holes that were left and answer some questions without leaving too many others. HOWEVER I will answer all and any questions if you want to leave me a comment.

Next update - Friday 14/05/2021

‘Almost… there,’ Sarah muttered as she struggled to catch the lock with her tiny tools. She’d said the same thing five minutes ago and if she didn’t hurry the fuck up, he was not going to be responsible for his actions, Luc decided as he watched Sarah’s ass shake in front of him. He wanted to reach out and grab it again, to haul her back against him, push his hips against her firm, round behind and show her what the hell she was able to do.

God, he hadn’t been this turned on in years. Even the red-head the other night hadn’t done this much for him. Hell, the woman had to climb on him and basically dry hump him to get a semi going, whereas if Sarah carried on huffing and groaning as she moved, she was going to get to experience one of the many fantasies he was sure she’d had. After all didn’t every fan of his have them? They all seemed to love whispering filthy things in his ear during photo ops. Or shouting them out when he was on stage.

He shouldn’t have touched her in the store. He had rules in place to ensure things like this didn’t happen.

He shifted in the swing chair on the porch as she once more unwittingly wiggled her ass as she tried to find a more comfortable position to kneel as she focused on the lock of the door.

With a growl, Luc stood up and marched away as best he could before Sarah saw the predicament he’d got himself in. His erection strained against the denim of his jeans and he managed to get around the side of the cabin before he had to unzip them and rearrange himself.

He gasped as his fingers wrapped around his stiff length, taking in a few deep breaths as he slowly stroked himself, enjoying the fact he had a willing boner for the first time in months. No little blue pills crushed into his drink without his knowledge to ensure someone could benefit from it that evening—and it had never been him.

While the air around him was chilly, his growing cock was warm in his hand. He moaned quietly as he allowed himself a moment of pleasure. A few strokes to relieve the tension, to dampen the arousal he’d felt since he’d watched Sarah walk towards him in the store. Then he’d be able to think straight, to focus on something other than the desire to fulfil whatever fantasies Sarah had locked away.

Maybe he’d be able to think of one or two of his own. God, it had been so long since he’d indulged in any sexual fantasies, always too frightened in case Linda caught him with his hand’s around his cock and either joined him or made him suffer for cheating her out of it.

He dropped his head back against the wood of the wall behind him and wondered what would happen if Sarah came looking for him. She’d walk around the corner, her hips swaying seductively again, and see him standing there with this shirt rucked up to show a sliver of his stomach and his hard, aching cock in hand as he slowly thrust into it. He groaned as his hand quickened its pace as he imagined those beautiful blue-green eyes focused on his thick length, licking her lips at the thought of tasting it…

Did she ever think of things like that? Did they feature him? Would she be willing to giving head? Would she be a woman willing to just drop to her knees and suck him down?

He shuddered in pleasure at the thought. It had been so long…

Perhaps, she’d be more willing to replace his hand with her own? Feeling her fingers over his long shaft, soft and gentle, but firm and determined. She’d watch him as her hand moved, scrutinising every reaction he had, cataloguing every moan and groan for her own masturbatory fantasies later…

Maybe, she’d slowly strip off, a striptease in the middle of the forest where anyone hiking through could also watch. She’d slip out of her clothes and let him fuck her up against the cabin wall; no foreplay, just quick and dirty. He imagined her large chest in his face as he pushed into her—

He shoved his fist in his mouth and bit down hard on his knuckles, stopping himself from crying out Sarah’s name as his orgasm quickly hit and he came over his stomach and fingers.

He stood there against the wall of the cabin, his cock softening in his hand still wrapped around it as he stared through the trees at nothing as he came down from the euphoria of his unexpected orgasm. He hadn’t meant to let it get that far, but it had been so long since he’d had one willingly…

His muscles relaxed for the first time in a long while and he needed a second before he’d be able to stand without the support of the wall behind him.

God, what the hell had he just done? Was he insane?

Fucking his fist in the privacy of his own bathroom would be one thing, but doing it in the middle of the woods to the image of a woman who had all but kidnapped him was another!

Luc shook his head and pushed himself upright, tucking his flaccid cock away with his clean hand while he glanced around for something to use to clean himself with. He found some large dock leaves and quickly used them to wipe his hand and stomach before he was finally able to lower his shirt and zip up his jeans before he moved to the back of the building, stopping to peer through the dirty and dusty windows as he went. They’d clearly had a lot of snow up here over the winter and everything needed a good clean now it had melted in the lower reaches of the mountains.

The cabin was far nicer and bigger than he’d initially thought when they’d passed it on the road earlier that morning, and now that he noted the furniture inside was covered in dust sheets it gave him pause. Someone took a lot of care of this little hideaway and he wondered if perhaps it was someone’s little extra-marital love nest. It wouldn’t surprise him, he knew enough people who had them back in Hollywood. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d been offered their use by directors or producers with a wink and a grin when they’d tried to get him to sign on the dotted line.

He stepped into a little clearing he figured acted as a garden in the summer and popped his head in the lean-to against the back wall. A generator he knew was no way near big enough to power a cabin even this small sat underneath. It didn’t look that old he noted as he checked the levels and sighed with relief when it started without a problem.

‘Hell’s bloody fire!’ Sarah’s curse was loud enough to disturb the birds in the trees around them, making them caw and crow, flapping their wings in annoyance. Luc took a deep breath as he picked up a log that had fallen from the covered pile next to the lean-to and jogged back around to Sarah.

‘I got this,’ he said as he came and stood next to her.

‘What?’ she asked, stopping her work and peering up at him.

He swallowed at the image she portrayed. Her beautiful sea-coloured eyes stared up at him, her hair in disarray around her head from the wind that rustled through the trees around them, and her plump lower lip was red from biting it in concentration. If that wasn’t enough, she was still on her knees, unmoving from her position as he tried to crowd into her space so she’d move over.

Luc swallowed; she looked better than how he’d pictured her just moments before.

‘Out the way.’ He ground his teeth, urging himself to regain control and told her to move once more, but this time with a little more bite than he meant to. Sarah held up her hands in surrender and grabbed what looked like little metal toothpicks from the lock before she climbed to her feet and took a step back.

He smashed one of the tiny windows in the door with a lot more force than he meant to—the glass exploded, spraying out across the wooden floor inside. Luc huffed in frustration before carefully reaching through the window and turning the simple lock to finally open the door.

‘Oh, that’s clever,’ Sarah said and Luc could practically hear the eye roll she gave him. ‘Now anyone can get in. You’re a freaking genius.’

‘Who the hell do you think is going to be prowling around up here at this time of year?’ He grabbed the bags from the deck and brought them inside. ‘You heard Willow, it’s too early for people to be vacationing.’

‘Willow,’ Sarah growled. ‘Doesn’t seem to understand that people like us are looking for somewhere to hide. We can’t be the only people in this country looking for a hideaway right now.’

Her surprisingly angry tones made him turn back to her; she was glaring at her own bags as she carried them over the threshold. Her cheeks were moving from pink to deep red and her lip was doing that pouting thing again. He had to turn away to stop himself marching back across the room and sampling it properly.

‘You watch too much crap on TV.’ He forced the words out between his teeth, knowing full well she had a point but unwilling to admit it.

She scoffed at him. ‘Like you’d know what’s on TV, Mr-I-have-no-clue-about-world-events.’

‘Whatever.’ He searched through the bags, his hands shaking, until he found what he was looking for. ‘I’m hitting the shower,’ he told her before disappearing into the bedroom where the bathroom had to be. An en-suite was tucked along the length of one of the walls and Luc hurried inside and shut the door behind him.

He took a deep breath, leant back against the door, and closed his eyes. He tried to remember what Brandon, his Sensi, had taught him about breathing and meditating. He had to block out the chaos, the teetering tower of turmoil that often threatened to topple and crush him completely. He had to centre himself, focus solely on the feel of the oxygen filling his nose, the expansion of his chest. Pause. Hold it for a moment, feel that slight burn of his lungs before slowly releasing it through his mouth, around his tongue and between his teeth.

He shut out everything else and just breathed; in and out, in and out.

When he finally opened his eyes again he felt better; the edge of arousal Sarah had unwittingly created, the worry of if he’d done the right thing in leaving with her in the first place, and the nerves he had of Willow recognising him all fell away.

He took another deep breath and pulled himself together before yanking the sheet from the sink and the other over the tub. The shower would have to be quick. He had a feeling the generator was there solely to pump and heat the water in the house and he didn’t want to use all the diesel if they were going to be here for a while.

As he put the wash bag down on the vanity, he caught his reflection in the mirror above the basin and wondered how long they could manage before being caught. Until they were either tracked down by the Demon or hauled in by the police for the madness and mayhem they’d caused yesterday.

He rested his head against the mirror; he was their weakest link, his face so well known, a peril of being famous. How long would it be before someone recognised him and raised the alarm? Would Sarah run and leave him to fend for himself? Would he be thrown in prison? Surely, Ben would be able to stop that from happening. His lawyer would be able to get him off on insanity or say he’d been forced into all this by some British psychopath…

Although, with the way Sarah told it, he’d be lucky not to be dead before Ben even got to speak to him.

He pulled away from the mirror and turned his head left and right as he considered the beard he’d worn for five years; most pictures that appeared online nowadays were from Destiny, all of them sporting the Gabriel-beard and long, blond hair. For five years he’d been contractually obligated to maintain his hair’s length and colour alongside the angelic-style facial hair.

He rubbed a hand over the beard, the feel of the coarse hairs familiar. It was a move Gabriel often did on the show when he had to consider something and it had become a habit outside of filming as a result. His preferred look before Destiny had been stubble, or “designer stubble” as his stylist, Claude, called it. Luc had no idea how it was different.

He was going to have to go smooth, he realised as he turned on the shower. As smooth as a baby’s bottom. He cringed at the thought; he hadn’t shaved in so long he was more than likely to have a slashed face afterwards than a smooth finish.

Letting the shower heat up, Luc took a comb and began to brush through the bristles before picking up the scissors and trimming it as close to the skin as was safely possible. He chuckled to himself as he took in its uneven state. Claude would have a fit if he saw his favourite client right now.

The steam in the bathroom was starting to build and Luc jumped in the shower, titling his face to the stream of hot water to soften the hairs and open his pores to make shaving easier. Turning under the water, he revelled in the hot stream pummelling his shoulders, aiding in loosening some of the tension from them.

Luc decided he was going to stay there, under the spray, feeling warm and relaxed until all this blew over. Until the Demon was caught and—

‘Luc?’ Sarah’s voice within the bathroom made him jump. ‘You left your clothes on the bed and I got you a towel.’

He squeezed his eyes shut tight and cursed himself at making such a stupid mistake. ‘Thanks,’ he managed and he watched Sarah’s silhouette move across the bathroom through the frosted shower screen.

‘I’ll leave them here,’ she said, as she stood just to the side of the shower, and Luc wondered if she was thinking about him in there. He wanted to snort at the thought; of course she was. He was naked and wet. A bit soapy too. She’d probably had many of her dirty thoughts about him in such a position.

He wondered what she’d do if he invited her to join him.

Again, dumb question; she’d be stripping off and jumping in before he could finish his offer.

He shuddered at the thought and not in the pleasant way he had early. She was a fan, a long-time fan who’d wanted to meet him in a one-to-one. She probably had a whole book filled with fantasies, was probably someone who wrote that fan fiction crap he’d heard so much about. Probably wrote about him and Marc. Knowing his luck, she’d climb all over him, expecting him to live up to her expectations and taking whatever she wanted—

‘Don’t be too long,’ she finally said as she headed back across the bathroom. ‘And don’t dry your hair, it’ll need cutting once you’re out.’

He heard the door close behind her before he rested his forehead against the cold tiled wall and groaned.

He was so messed up.

Any questions, please drop them in the comments. Next update on Friday!

[evdarcy]

An Unusual Hero C7S2

Please remember, this is unedited and unfinished, but will hopefully fill in the holes that were left and answer some questions without leaving too many others. HOWEVER I will answer all and any questions if you want to leave me a comment.

Next update - Tuesday 11/05/2021

‘Pardon me, ma'am.’

Sarah rolled her eyes at Luc as he charmed some young sales assistant with his version of a British accent. She had to admit it was actually good. Rather than a generic British tone American actors tended to use on TV, he was hitting a relatively authentic London accent. Or should she say accents? It did move between areas of London with each sentence. A true Englishman would be confused as hell as to where the star was supposed to be from and call bullshit on him, but to a young American girl his accent was as genuine as she’d have ever heard.

She was probably also working out how to get him into the back room to put that mouth to other uses. Sarah was.

At six foot two, Luc Truman was the epitome of the prefect man. His broad shoulders and tapered waist made you feel he was strong and powerful, able to lift you up and throw you over his shoulder. His handsome face stopped your breath as you marvelled at its perfection, strong jaw, straight nose, a picture of near-perfect symmetry. Da Vinci couldn’t have drawn a more perfect specimen.

And when those rich green eyes turned to you, there was no question of if you’d drop your knickers it was a matter of where could you disappear to in order to get the deed done.

Sarah swallowed as Luc chose that moment to turn said panty-wetting eyes in her direction. He threw her a wink and a lopsided smirk before he turned back to the girl. He rested his weight on his hand against the wall, blocking the woman in with his body as the tiny thing leant back, her small, perfectly pert breasts thrusting out.

Sarah dropped her gaze to her own ample pair; their large round shape held down by a minimising bra. Jack had told her it was to help her be able to move around easily, to stop them getting in the way or getting sore during training. Sarah had a feeling it was more to do with not having tops to fit her. They’d be stretched so tight the men on base probably wouldn’t have seen her as anything other than a massive pair of tits.

She glanced back up in time to see Luc throw his head back in laughter, the girl had her hand on his chest, her smile bright and beaming under his attention.

Once, Sarah had had a dream similar to such a sight; that was how their first meeting was supposed to go. She’d say something witty and make him do that world famous laugh, he’d flirt outrageously and she’d bat her lashes at him. He’d reach up and tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear before he tilted her face to his as he lowered his own and captured her lips in a searing kiss.

Instead, Sarah had lead a terrorist to him, made him almost piss himself, run for his life and leave behind everyone he loved after dragging him halfway across the country.

Sarah sighed. So much for dreams.

The sales sales girl lowered her head and looked up at Luc through her lashes.

Right, time to put a stop to the little charade. Hopefully, the star had the information he needed, she didn’t want the girl actually thinking she had a chance with the man and come looking for him later…

More like you don’t want her getting your dream, her mind taunted.

‘Darling,’ Sarah called, her accent far more polished-British than Luc’s. ‘The young man’s taking everything to the till. Are you done?’

She sauntered to his side, her hips swaying in an exaggerated manner—most men loved it when she did that and Luc didn’t disappoint. His eyes dropped to her waist, watching her as she neared; she could feel his gaze on her, her body warming under it, as he took a step away from the little chit, cleared his throat and nodded his head, his demeanour immediately changing. But Sarah kept her eyes on the younger woman who was frowning in confusion at the interruption.

‘Of course,’ he said, and Sarah was surprised by how his voice once again changed. He mirrored her own clean cut British tone in a way any BBC newsreader would be proud to duplicate. ‘Willow here was explaining to me that we’re too early for the cabins; we’ll have to get a tent or rent an RV.’

The sales assistant’s eyes went wide as Sarah came to a stop at Luc’s side. Sarah turned her head towards Luc, but her eyes still remained fixed on the woman as her TV star slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close against him. Sarah totally played into it.

Curling her body in towards his, she pressed herself against him from shoulder to thigh marking him as her own. She hoped it screamed back off bitch to the girl, because it was exactly what she wanted to say.

If anyone had said to her at in her early twenties, when Luc had broken out into the movie business, that she’d be in such a position, she’d have laughed in their face and asked how much would it cost to have it happen. Of course, this was before conventions became a thing, giving everyone such an opportunity. Unfortunately for Sarah, they never seemed to fall during the school holidays, which meant unless she won the lottery she was never going to be able to meet her stars and be wrapped in their arms for a hug during a photo op.

This was just as fake as any photo call, but with the way the girl was now looking between the two of them, disappointment and jealousy burning in her big brown eyes, it was so much better.

God, she wished she could somehow kiss him. Just press her lips against his and make all her dreams come true.

‘What a shame,’ Sarah said pouting as she glanced up at Luc through her lashes. He smirked down at her as he reached up and took her chin between his fingers and thumb, turning her face up properly. Her breath stuttered in her throat as memories of fantasies she’d nourished over the years swept through her mind and she went crossed-eyed when lowered his head to hers and… dropped a kiss to her nose! She had to suck her pouting lip between her teeth to stop herself from both squeaking in excitement and wailing in disappointment.

‘Don’t pout, Duchess,’ he grinned as he pulled back. His eyes dropped to her mouth briefly before meeting her gaze again. It was almost as if he could read her mind. Did the bastard know what she was thinking and was screwing with her?

‘I’ll get us a really nice RV. What’s that mean again?’ Luc turned his attention back to the other woman as he pulled Sarah closer to him, the hand around her waist slid down to her arse and gave it a squeeze. Sarah had to stop her eyes from going wide at the action, had to cover the squeak that bubbled at the top of her throat with a cough, before disentangling herself from his arms and looking up at him with what she hoped was disappointment in her eyes.

What she really wanted to do was scream in your face! at the girl who was now stumbling over her answer, before dragging Luc into a backroom somewhere and doing exactly what she’d always dreamt of.

She felt a deep desire to log onto to Tumblr and post that Luc Truman had felt her up, with a couple of hundred gif sets of arse groping followed by a picture with her and Luc in the store fawning all over one another.

Sure, it was a step backwards for feminism, but she’d gladly take that step and a few hundred more if it meant feeling those lips against hers or those hands somewhere else on her body.

Instead, Sarah looked back at the sales assistant with utter disdain, hoping the girl would recall her face far clearer than Luc’s merely for the contempt she held for the young thing. ‘Hurry up and finish playing here’—she waved her hand dismissively at the woman—‘I’m going to go and pay for our purchases.’

She heard the girl give a little gasp of disgust as Sarah turned on her heel and headed towards the counter to pay the bill. Yes, in the other woman’s mind, Luc’s face would be given a soft focus, slightly hazy with the ideals of perfection and lust, mixed with a hundred other notions of what made a man handsome. Sarah would be the one sharply in focus if she was ever questioned, and Sarah had enough wigs, glasses and prosthetic makeup packed away to walk back in here tomorrow and receive nothing but love from Willow.

The store clerk, who’d actually done his job running around collecting everything on the list Luc had made earlier, tried to hand back her change just as the star came up behind her.

‘Keep it,’ she told the clerk with a purposefully forced looking smile. ‘At least someone is working in this place.’ She said it just loud enough for the manager at the other end of the counter to hear. The man glanced over and she pointedly looked towards Willow who was still watching Luc as he swaggered towards the counter.

‘Well, that was pretty mean,’ Luc said as they each grabbed a paper bag and headed out of the store. Sarah shrugged, but held her head a little higher. She had a little bounce in her step as they headed back to the car, feeling as if she were walking through the clouds as her bum cheek still tingled where Luc had touched her.

‘Duchess?’ she asked, changing the subject.

‘I gave you a back-story.’

‘Really?’ She stared at him over the top of the car as they put the last of their parcels on the back seats. They’d visited half a dozen shops that morning and she prayed he hadn’t been recognised in any of them. But it would have been far riskier to have left him sat in the car on his own. ‘I needed a back-story?’

‘Yeah, you’re the one with the money and I’m your plaything. Only with you so that I can benefit from your wealth.’

The clouds parted and Sarah fell back to Earth with a thud at the idea that someone like him would only be with her for a reason other than what he could get out of the relationship. She frowned as they climbed in the car and she began the process of twisting together the wires to restart its engine.

Okay, so she wasn’t the most beautiful woman in the world, but she certainly wasn’t ugly. She hadn’t needed money to snag Jimmy and he’d been just as hot as any TV star—although she squashed the thought of her former fiance quickly. She had no time to go back down the grief-well she’d had months of therapy to escape.

Luc hummed as they drove back through the town, heading north to the 191 again and the cabin he’d spied earlier. If perky-tits was right about the Season not yet starting, they’d have a bit of time to gather themselves together and formulate a plan of what to do next.

She glanced at Luc out the corner of her eye; she had to remember that the man next to her was an actor. She couldn’t afford to get caught up in any fantasies or roles he conjured up for them to play when in public. He was an award winning Star and she was just a teacher. They lived in separate worlds and had only been thrown together in this limbo they were now straddling as they ran for their lives.

She took a deep breath and rolled her shoulders as she turned back onto the highway and put her foot down.

She could do this. She could do this—

Patrick’s Swayze’s “She’s like the Wind” crooned from the speakers as Luc switched the radio to a golden oldies station. He instantly picked up the tune, singing perfectly alongside Swayze’s voice.

Sarah groaned quietly as she turned to look at the star. His green eyes were bright, a smile playing on his lips, and he sung as if he were free and easy with their situation.

He chose that moment to turn to her, his smile beaming brighter as he raised his voice to sing louder, drowning out Swayze…

She ripped her eyes away from him, focusing back on the road ahead.

Life was not fair.

Any questions, please drop them in the comments. Next update on Tuesday!

[evdarcy]

An Unusual Hero C7S1

Please remember, this is unedited and unfinished, but will hopefully fill in the holes that were left and answer some questions without leaving too many others. HOWEVER I will answer all and any questions if you want to leave me a comment.

Next update - Friday 07/05/2021

Sarah pouted as she drove the car down the main street looking for somewhere to park. For such a small town it was far busier than she’d expected it to be.

‘I told you, towns like this rely on tourists, they’re always crawling with folks.’

‘You said it wasn’t summer yet. That cabins are still locked up.’

‘That doesn’t stop people who don’t have cabins coming up here to camp or hike. You know, to avoid the peak times, make it a bit of a cheaper vacation.’

‘This isn’t peak?’ Sarah asked as she stopped at a red light and watched the crowd crossing in front of the car.

‘Nope, but I’m still going to get recognised!’ he told her for the umpteenth time. He’d grabbed the map from the back of the car and now held it in front of his face as if he were scrutinising it. She hoped no one took a closer look and saw it was for the other side of the country.

She caught sight of a group of boys turning a corner on their bikes, dressed in dark hoodies, coats, and hats. A couple were wearing sunglasses and gave Sarah an idea. She slowly moved the car to follow them as the light turned green. The car juddered as she got the speed wrong again and she smacked the steering wheel ‘Damn thing,’ she hissed.

‘Seriously, it’s an automatic; how the hell can you not drive an auto?’

‘Manuals are standard in the UK!’ she said sharply as she turned down another street the teens turned into. ‘I’ve never driven an automatic. It was far easier on the highway.’

‘And the Brits mock us for our stupidity. At least we drive on the right side of the road.’

‘Don’t fucking start,’ she snapped pointing her finger at him. It hadn’t been funny having him grab the wheel to pull her into the correct lane earlier that morning when her mind had drifted, causing the car to do the same. ‘I told you I’ve driven for almost eighteen years on the left—it’s not normal for me to be on the right!’

The gang they were following stopped at what appeared to be a run down theatre and Sarah slowed the car down to a stop as the group locked their bikes to the streetlights.

Sarah scowled at the older man stood in the doorway to the crappy movie house, leaning casually against its frame as if he had all the time in the world. She narrowed her eyes and weighed up the situation, her hand moving to the piece strapped to her leg, itching to put the creep in his place—if need be.

‘Easy,’ Luc said, his voice soft as his own hand moved over hers. He gently held it as he brought it away from the Mark 23, taking it into his own lap, squeezing it to reassure her things were okay.

Sarah’s breath hitched at the contact, swallowing as her eyes locked onto to her fingers carefully held within his own large hand. She cleared her throat and ripped her gaze away from the sight she’d fantasied over for years, just in time to catch the group of boys who were about to disappear inside the dirty cinema.

‘Hey, lads,’ she called to them, her voice a bit huskier than normal. She had a feeling it had something to do with the soft caresses the star was trailing along the back and palm of her hand. She had to stop herself from shuddering, from turning to him and—

‘Try guys instead of lads.’ Luc’s own voice was quiet, deeper and rougher than it had been just a few minutes ago. She closed her eyes for a second, wondering what her name would sound like if he spoke it now.

‘Guys,’ she shouted across the lot, and one of the teens glanced over his shoulder towards her. ‘C’mere.’ She waved the young man over with her free hand, but when the boy flipped her off she nearly got out of the car. Luc tightened his grip on her hand, holding her in place so she couldn’t let her temper get the better of her.

‘If you don’t come here,’ she shouted to them. ‘I’m going straight to your principal and telling him where to find you all!’

That made the group freeze. Yeah, she probably should have opened with that.

‘What d’ya want?’ the tallest boy asked, swaggering over towards the car while the rest stood their ground. She had a feeling if she did get out the car and they caught a mere flash of what was strapped to her leg they’d piss their pants as they fled. But that would mean she’d need her legs to work and she wasn’t sure they would after Luc Truman had held her hand.

‘One, gimme your hat.’

‘What?’ the boy spluttered, looking at her as if she were mad. Sarah didn’t think he was a day over fifteen despite the fact that he was pushing six foot and the lack of manners he was displaying only annoyed her further. Even if it was kind of creepy that she’d followed them and was now asking for pieces of their clothes outside what could easily be mistaken for an abandoned building.

‘Hat!’ she said holding out her hand with a hundred dollar bill in it. ‘Now.’

The boy didn’t waste any time pulling the black beanie from his head and handing it to her, snatching the note form her hand at the same time.

‘Two, glasses’ she said, throwing the hat in Luc’s direction. The actor dropped her hand and she silently lamented the loss. She fished another bill from her pocket and as soon as it appeared out the window the kid’s sunglasses were in her hand.

‘And three, why the hell are you going in that shit-hole with Creepy Mc-Creeper-son over there?’

‘He lets us watch the… er… movies before he officially opens for the day.’

Sarah glanced around the teen, through the group of young men and stared at the man who looked like he didn’t give a damn what she was doing. ‘Movies?’

‘They’re watching pornos,’ Luc said from next to her. The boy’s face turned bright red at being caught out. ‘Right, kid?’ The kid’s mouth opened and closed helplessly, unsure if he was supposed to answer.

‘Seriously? Don’t you just watch them on your phone?’ Sarah asked. She wasn’t sure if she was more surprised at the fact they still had adult cinemas or the fact that a group of teenagers were going in to watch pornos. Together. Ew.

‘It’d save you money,’ she continued. ‘And you wouldn’t have to sport a boner in front of your friends.’

‘Family plan,’ the kid muttered before he turned and ran back to said friends. He held up the bills, snapping them between his fingers as if he’d somehow won the lottery and not just embarrassed himself in front of a strange woman.

Sarah turned back to Luc about to question him on why he wasn’t bothered by what the boys were doing when she saw he’d already donned the hat. It pushed his hair around his face, creating little blond curls that kissed his cheeks and neck, and Sarah was briefly reminded of Patric Swayze in Point Break—if today’s beanies had been a thing in the 90s, Bodhi would’ve worn one.

‘Why didn’t you go for the Point Break remake?’ she blurted out instead.

Luc raised a brow at her comment, clearly not expecting the random questions, but calmly answered. ‘They did offer me it, but I didn’t like the script.’

Sarah felt her own eyes go wide at that revelation, a well of disappointment sitting in her chest. She’d been looking forward to seeing it from the moment it was announced and had been far from impressed when Jack and David hadn’t let her see it as a Christmas present, despite the base getting an early access copy.

‘Was it shit?’ she whispered.

‘It wasn’t bad,’ Luc said with a shrug of his shoulders. ‘It didn’t do well at the box office, but then the original is a classic. Even if it had been word for word perfect, remade scene by scene, it still wouldn’t be as good. Other than Swayze himself rising from the dead and taking the lead, how do you top 90s cheese and their majestic surfer hair?’

Sarah’s eyes darted to the tips of his own luscious locks trying to break free of their confines; it had been so hard to keep her hands from reaching out and running her fingers through them every time she realised she was in reach of him. She’d itched to comb it into submission earlier after he’d woken up and even now she wanted to play with the curling ends peeking from around the edge of the hat.

‘You’re right.’ She put the car back in drive and pulled into traffic. ‘Even your hair can’t beat Patrick’s Bodhi,’ she lied.

‘No one’s can,’ Luc said with a shake of his head before he slipped the sunglasses on his nose and turned his attention back to the map. She pursed her lips as she wondered what was so interesting in that map, but, she decided, at least he wasn’t whinging at her anymore.

Any questions, please drop them in the comments. Next update on Friday!

[evdarcy]

An Unusual Hero C6S3

Please remember, this is unedited and unfinished, but will hopefully fill in the holes that were left and answer some questions without leaving too many others. HOWEVER I will answer all and any questions if you want to leave me a comment.

Next update - Tuesday 04/05/2021

An unhappy squeal of surprise jarred Luc awake. He sat up quickly—

‘Fuck!’ he called as he smacked his head on the roof of the too small car. He rubbed his forehead as he looked around, trying to work out where he was and what had woken him.

The driver’s door was open and over the top of it he spied a tree line far in the distance. With the air cold and damp, a gravelly pathway under the car, and the sounds of splashing water and short gasps of breath, Luc was betting they’d stopped by a lake or river and Sarah was trying to use the freezing cold water for a wash or something of the like.

The TV star shook his head as he climbed out the little Hyundai, closing both his and Sarah’s doors. He glanced around, taking in the beautiful sight of the Grand Teton mountain range before honing in on his… captor? He shook his head, that didn’t sound right. He’d ran off with her of his own free will, but then it wasn’t as if he’d had much choice. Between one gun and the other, hers had seemed the less threatening.

God, Luc hoped he hadn’t been wrong about that.

He glanced down the the lake’s edge. He’d been right, Sarah was knelt beside what Luc knew to be icy cold water, splashing it over her face and shivering with each handful as the water dripped down her nose and chin.

He took a deep breath and released it before he called down to her. ‘Keep the doors closed.’

He quickly turned away, finding the nearest tree and unbuttoning his jeans before relieving himself against the bark.

‘Oh God,’ he moaned in satisfaction as his bladder emptied. What an idiot he’d been yesterday refusing to go when Sarah had offered him the chance. He’d partly refused just in case she’d left him behind, that she’d call The Demon and offer him over if he left her alone. The other part of him knew if he’d got out the car yesterday he’d have called the police on Sarah.

‘The car smells,’ she called back to him. ‘It needs airing.’

‘Rather the smell of us than raccoon piss,’ he shouted back. ‘Or a bear getting nosey.’

‘A bear!’

He chuckled as he heard Sarah scrambling around on the shoreline, her footsteps crunching on the gavel as she hurried back up towards the car. He shook himself off and was about to tuck his dick away when a stranger stuck their face in his. He reared back at the intrusion, stumbling slightly, until his back hit the car.

‘What the—’

The woman was the same height as Sarah, but had long, thick, auburn hair, sparkling green-blue eyes and a tiny petite nose and chin that made her cheeks look round and full. Luc knew his mouth was hanging open, but she was beautiful; fresh faced, wide-eyed, and the way her hair tumbled around her round face made her look innocent and vulnerable.

Although the terror in her eyes probably helped with that latter part.

‘What do you mean a bear?’ The voice was definitely Sarah’s. ‘Are there freaking bears around here?’ Luc tried to fathom what had happened as he watched this woman’s head snap left and right as she scanned the line of trees on the other side of the car.

‘We’re in Wyoming,’ he said, slowly. Perhaps she’d been wearing a wig? A false nose and chin could also explain away the changes. But how hadn’t he realised? He could usually spot prosthetics a mile away.

‘Do you know how many parks there are up here?’ he continued, his eyes taking in her new profile; her narrowed eyes were framed by long dark lashes and her nose had a little lift to it at the end. ‘We’re probably not far from Yellowstone.’

‘Where Yogi and Boo-boo live?’

‘Er, they live in Jellystone, and they’re not real.’

‘Oh… Fuck off!’ she snapped as she folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. Definitely still Sarah. The bite in her tone mirrored what he’d heard yesterday, although the flicker of annoyance in her eyes was different.

That was why her eyes had been odd yesterday. There had been no emotions within them. He hadn’t been able to read her eyes, only her facial expressions—which would have been hindered by the prosthetics—and her body language.

She huffed and shook her head when he refused to back down from her hard stare, dropping her eyes down his body to the floor. But her eyes grew large and a flush to her cheeks flamed the apples of them red. A small squeak of surprise came from her lips as they fell open and Luc glanced down to where she was looking, cursing himself when he saw his dick still hanging free and easy from between the flies of his jeans.

‘For fuck’s sake,’ he hissed, quickly turning away from the woman’s eyes and tucking himself back into his jeans. Heat filled his own face and Luc knew he’d be bright red for a few minutes. Once his zip was secured, he stepped to the side and began to walk towards the water’s edge, avoiding facing his partner in crime until he wasn’t the colour of a tomato.

‘So what happened to the hair and eyes—’ He began to call over his shoulder, only to stop when he saw her following him. Luc had been a star for many years, he’d had fans, super fans, and outright stalkers; bodyguards, teams of security, and once a police escort, but never had he been followed the way Sarah was tracking him now. Her back was to him, her was gun out and her head darted left to right as she tried to take in everything.

Where had the steel-balled woman from yesterday gone? Clearly Sarah was a city girl and not a country gal; she might be able to stare down death when it came in the form of a gun-toting terrorist, but he’d bet every nickle and dime he owned that she’d run from a room screaming if a spider scurried from a corner.

He sighed and stopped, putting his hands on her shoulders he turned her around to face him. ‘Sarah,’ he said, pushing her gun down so she didn’t accidentally shoot him. ‘Here’s the deal. If you see a raccoon just run and shout at the furry bastard. If a bear comes charging at you, get to a tree and climb. The cubs can haul up it, but the bigger ones shouldn’t be able to—’

‘Shouldn’t?’ her voice squeaked.

‘Now, if it’s a wolf—’

‘Get in the fucking car, Luc!’ Sarah wrenched herself from his grasp and turned, running up the tiny hill to the little black Hyundai. Luc couldn’t stop the laughter that fell from his lips, a throw your head back guffaw, right from the belly.

‘Now, Luc!’ she screamed as she slammed the door and began to hot-wire the engine again. He chuckled all the way back to the car, shaking his head as he went at the irony. He hadn’t laughed so hard or so freely in what felt like a lifetime.

The car coughed to life in the cold Wyoming air as he settled himself next to Sarah, a smile still playing on his lips as they pulled away.

‘You’re in a better mood,’ she muttered, looking at him from the corner of her eye before fixing her gaze back on the track to the main road. Luc hummed in agreement; he was. Sure he was on the run, sure the life he knew—the fame, fortune, and fans—was over with, hell he might even be murdered tomorrow, but he was free.

His smile grew bigger at the thought, a show your teeth, shit-eating grin, Casey would say. He turned his attention out his window, taking in the landscape to hide his smile from Sarah.

Snow still covered the mountain tops that surrounded them and the chill in the air made him glad he’d never chosen to come camping this far north on hiatus. The boys on set had been hinting at attending one of the Dude Ranches that had been springing up over the last decade or so, but nothing had ever come of it. And the idea of Casey, Nick, Marc, or Robson surviving in a ranch setting was hilarious. He imagined Tony would’ve been fine with it, and BB would’ve probably outshone the lot. Sophie… He shook his head. That girl didn’t go anywhere there wasn’t an electrical socket for her hairdryer.

A twinge in his chest brought him up short as it hit him; he wasn’t going to see any of them for a while. Or, perhaps, ever again…

‘Where we heading?’ he asked, trying to swallow the ball of emotion that suddenly seemed lodged in his throat.

‘We passed a town about an hour or so before we parked up last night,’ Sarah told him as she pulled back onto the 191 and this time headed south. ‘We need to get a few things and figure out where we can lay low for a while.’

‘Why don’t we just go back there?’ Luc asked, pointing over his shoulder with his thumb. ‘There was a cabin in the trees that looks like it’s been locked up for the winter. Its owners probably won’t be up this way until the summer.’

He said cabin, but it had looked little more than a hut when he’s spied it through the forest. It probably had one or two rooms and no running water or electricity.

Sarah frowned at his suggestion, pulling her lower lip between her teeth as she considered it. ‘But it’s May, summer’s nearly here, they could return at any time.’

‘Nah,’ he shook his head. ‘Summer this far north doesn’t start until July. We’d probably be fine. It’s off the highway,’ he added as an incentive. ‘Probably better than a motel with our current situation.’

‘But… bears?’ she said it quietly, her head hunching between her shoulders as she drew them upwards. Luc had to stop himself from grinning again, she was definitely a city girl. ‘Or were you lying about them?’ She narrowed her eyes as she glanced at him. He held his hands up as he shook his head.

‘Absolutely not. But I can get some things to help keep all the nasty wildlife away.’ He watched her as she considered his words, her finger tapping on the steering wheel again.

‘No bears?’

‘None.’ He crossed his heart. ‘Scouts honour.’

‘What about wolves?’

‘I’ll keep them away too.’

‘Fine,’ she said. ‘But if I wake up to a bear in bed with me, you’re being its bitch.’

Any questions, please drop them in the comments. Next update on Tuesday!

[evdarcy]

An Unusual Hero C6S2

Please remember, this is unedited and unfinished, but will hopefully fill in the holes that were left and answer some questions without leaving too many others. HOWEVER I will answer all and any questions if you want to leave me a comment.

Next update - Friday 30/04/2021

Sarah jumped awake, but instantly regretted the move. Hissing in pain, she pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes. They throbbed as she tried to open them again and aborted the move almost immediately.

Her eyes filled with water, trying to flush out whatever it was causing the problem, and she had to force one pair of lids open, prying them apart with her fingers, as she peered at herself in the review mirror of the small car.

‘Fuck!’ she breathed as she saw the brown contact halfway up her cornea as it tried to slide behind her eye. She’d fallen asleep with her contacts in and she was going to pay for it badly.

She tried not to flinch as she fished the lens from her eye. Good God, even the sting of tears in her eyes hadn’t made it moist enough to avoid the feeling of torture as she pulled out the tiny piece of plastic.

She sat, puffing and panting through the pain, trying desperately not to rub at either eye, and mentally geared herself up to tackle the second. The right felt far worse than the left and she almost cried out in agony as she forced the lid open.

Shit. It had broken in half; she’d probably scratched her eye. She prayed that she hadn’t; she couldn’t have a bad eye, not now, not when she had to be more observant and aware than ever! She carefully took each part of the lens out and blinked her eyes rapidly, clenching her hands into fists around the steering wheel to stop her from rubbing at her eyes furiously.

This was one of the reasons why she’d had corrective surgery six years ago. It wasn’t the first time she’d fallen asleep in contacts, she was just glad that it would be the last. She sighed, relaxing into her seat as the pain slowly receded and she realised hadn’t done any actual damage.

A snore from behind her made her jump, her eyes flying open as she turned around her in her seat to see Luc Truman. He’d almost folded himself in half, crunched up in the barely worth it backseat. His jacket covered his torso and his head was at an awkward angle pressed against the seat and the door. At least she wasn’t the only one who would be waking up sore. But, shit. It also meant that yesterday hadn’t been a very vivid dream.

She banged her head back against the headrest repeatedly as she tried to convince herself that it wasn’t her fault. Tried to recall what Dr. Jellyman had said to her over the last year and actually believe it this time. The situation was not her fault. Everything came down to the Demon and what he’d done.

And David.

She hoped the devil was riding the agent at that moment.

She rubbed her hands over her face—careful around her eyes—and made a frustrated grunt in the back of her throat. She had no idea what to do or where to go. They hadn’t planned for this contingency; they’d figured if the bastard found her, she’d be dead not on the run.

Okay, she had to pulled herself together, to be strong for the man behind her who’d been thrown in at the deep end. While she might have been in a similar boat twelve months ago, she’d been pulled out quickly and had time afterwards to pause and take a breath.

Luc wasn’t going to have that luxury.

But, first things first. She had to remind herself where she was and work out what her options where.

She wiped her hand across the window and tried to peer through it in the dim morning light. The sun was on the cusp of rising and the earth was caught in the eerie glow that suggested no one should be awake yet. Even nature seemed to still be sleeping, Sarah mused, as she wound down the driver’s window of the little black car and noted the lack of birdsong.

There was a chill in the air and a light, fine rain coated the world around them in a sheen of water that caused a low mist to cling to the road and the lake that stretched out before her. She frowned at the world wishing she was still asleep, tucked up in a soft, warm bed somewhere, with a thick feathery duvet and the heating on full pelt.

Wyoming! The memory of where they were suddenly came back to her.

She’d driven for more than ten hours straight, heading north through a country she’d never visited before. She’d stopped only to refill the car and to relieve herself, but Luc had merely sat next to her, frowning out the window after their talk. She’d watched the myriad of emotions play over his face every time she’d glanced his way or tried to engage him in conversation, but after an hour of silence she’d merely focused on the road, needing to keep an eye out for any vehicles following her. Every time they’d stopped she’d had to hope that he didn’t run from the car screaming and shouting that she’d stolen him away and was holding him hostage, while she tried to take a pee.

As a teacher she’d always thought bathroom breaks were bad; someone was always talking to you through the stall walls, trying to remind you of meetings you had, deadlines, parent calls to return, detentions—the list was endless. But at least she’d never had to worry about someone kicking the door in and hauling her away! Even if she had dreamt about Luc doing it one or twice when she was having a particularly bad day.

She’d finally stopped for the night when she knew she was at risk of crashing the car and doing The Demon’s work for him. And what a stop it was.

In the moonless night she hadn’t realised where she’d chosen to park, but now, good God, was there anything more beautiful? The rolling mist of the morning covered the lake, making it mystical and enchanting. The sun, slowly rising in the east, hit the mountains in front front of her, its orange glow making the snowy peaks glisten and twinkle.

‘Like a fairy tale,’ she whispered as she took in the magical sight.

Sarah opened the door and climbed out, stretching her legs and back, hoping to hear the click she desperately felt she needed, and took a deep breath of the crisp, fresh air. She coughed as her lungs cleared themselves of the stale air from the car and realised how bad the Excel smelled.

She took a few more breaths, allowing the light breeze to make her eyes water, helping her clear out the sting still within them, until her body began to shiver with the morning coldness. She hurried to the back of the car, popping the lock of the boot and lifting the lid.

While all was quiet, she took a better look through the duffel bags hoping she could find a jumper or hoodie to wear to keep her warm, but not holding out much hope. However, she frowned as she saw the clothes; jeans, jumpers, and long sleeved tops all very different from the supposed indie-author image she’d had in mind. Weren’t they all vegans and—

Her brow wrinkled as she frowned harder when her brain stopped short. She’d told Jack and David about what she wanted each of her persona's to be like, how she’d felt she could portray each person realistically. David had laughed alongside her, but Jack had sat there puzzled… At least she’d thought his lowered brows and pursed lips had been confusion, perhaps it had merely been… disapproval?

She grabbed one of the soft hoodies and threw it over her head before shoving the rest of the clothes back in the bag and grabbing the remaining cash from within its depths. She’d taken a few bills from it yesterday to fill the car and grab food, and now she estimated there just shy of fifteen grand still within its wrapper.

In the UK, she was sure she’d manage to live on that quite well for six to eight months, but she had a sinking feeling that in the states it wouldn’t last very long.

She peeled a chunk of the bills from the stack and shoved them into the back pocket of her jeans, putting the rest back with the clothes before she began rifling through the ammunition, checking what she had available. There was enough to refill each of her weapons half a dozen or so times, but would that be enough?

Shit, could you just walk into a store over here and buy more? Would she need ID? A gun certificate? How the hell did it work?

Luc grunted and she peered at the man again wondering if he knew. He’d seemed pretty familiar with the shotgun yesterday, perhaps he was one of these gun toting, firing into the sky with a Ye-haw! nut jobs she’d heard so much about in the British media?

She pushed the boxes of bullets and shells back into their bag as she shook her head of her musings. She’d work it out. She’d have to. Even if she had to hold up a store to get more she’d—

Two books caught her eye, cutting off her train of thought. They were leather bound and old looking, and had fallen to the floor during her investigation. She frowned at the volumes, turning them over in her hands as she tried to make sense of why Jack had included them. They seem to focus on living in a… wilderness setting? A forest?

Sarah pulled a face at them. They seemed to be a bit bizarre for her commander to just leave here without a reason…

She flicked through them to try and see if they had a deeper—or clearer—meaning, looking for any folded pages, highlighted notes, dotted words, or any other obvious indication as to why they were included. Her frown only deepened when that also drew a blank. Perhaps, they’d been for Jack’s personal enjoyment? Something to read on the long drive to San Francisco? Sarah had pegged him as a bit of a survivalist. He’d probably had his own nuclear-fallout escape plan all figured out.

She tossed them back into the boot with a shrug—she’d figure out if they were for her later—and continued on through the bags; toiletries and a map of the south-eastern United States were all that remained. She put the map with the books. The clothes, the books, and now the map. None of it made sense. She didn’t have any IDs linked to that area of the US—

‘Shit,’ she hissed and fumbled for the pocket in her jacket under the hoodie, sighing with relief when she felt her IDs safe and secure. Jack had insisted before they left the UK that she keep hold of them. Had the commander been suspicious of his American counterpart? If so, why the hell had she been kept in the dark?

Probably because she’d enjoyed what David did between her legs. She sneered at the thought of letting that man screw her. How the hell had she been so blind? How had all of them been duped by the man?

It was still a mystery to her how the agent had got on the team in the first place. How the hell had he convinced the President of the United States that he was on the level. Surely, if Renée Forbes had put the team together personally, her security checks would have been the highest of the high? Unless…

Fuck it. She couldn’t risk trusting President Forbes either. There would be no running to an FBI building, there would be no codes passed on. They were completely on their own.

The cool metal of the pendant between her ample breasts reminded her there was still one plan she had access to, she just wouldn’t know what it was until she got a phone that worked.

She rubbed her mouth as she thought about what to do next, but her brain stopped when she felt her chin wobble. What the—

Dammit, she’d forgotten about the prosthetic chin and nose they’d made her put on before she got off the jet yesterday.

She grabbed the wash bag and closed the car’s boot before she trotted down to the water’s edge and became herself again.

Any questions, please drop them in the comments. Next update on Friday!

[evdarcy]

An Unusual Hero C6S1

Please remember, this is unedited and unfinished, but will hopefully fill in the holes that were left and answer some questions without leaving too many others. HOWEVER I will answer all and any questions if you want to leave me a comment.

Next update - Tuesday 27/04/2021

The sound wasn’t anything she’d heard before.

No that wasn’t true. She had heard it before, but as it was always on a screen, with bad guys and heroes fighting it out, it took a few moments to understand what the rat-tat-tats and bangs were. Why screams and shouts echoed down corridors; the crash of tables and chairs as they fell over and the thuds of doors slamming shut climbed the stairwell.

The equation was only half finished on the board, the problem barely solved, but the importance of X quickly became of little use to anyone as the whole class turned as one towards the open door that led to the top of the stairs. Greg was already on the landing, peering over the railing and trying to fathom what the hell was going on below them.

Sarah saw Carl’s head pop around his door frame and spied his class leaning over their tables trying to see what was going on. Heated whispers of gossip passed between them when they couldn’t.

Sarah inched towards the two men as she motioned to her class to stay in their seats. Thoughts of utter disbelief swirled around her head; they were in England, where gun control was strict, where Jo-public wasn’t able to go into a shop and buy a firearm like you could in the States. The noises couldn’t be—

Greg quickly pulled his head up and stepped back slowly and quietly from the railing as voices—in a language they didn’t recognise—bounced up the stairwell. Screams followed a moment later before more of the God-awful noise, which could mean only one thing…

Jacqui’s voice called out, just a few floors below them, shouting, begging someone not to—

And then her voice stopped.

Any questions, please drop them in the comments. Next update on Tuesday!