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@spectralstriked
Sideblog to @freq141-12
Indie operative oc for espionage series, main focus Metal Gear with verses for resident evil, and stuff.
Lancelot Svensson; loyal to a fault. Losing yourself to duty. The importance of choice and self determination.
Yep, she was gonna have to scrub this car from top to bottom. At another stop, Sarsi pulled out a car air freshener to help with the smell, hanging it on her rearview mirror. She'd gotten used to it earlier, but now it was just making her head hurt.
"Yeah, I like to do that every once in awhile, keeps people guessing," she joked. Sarsi tried to hide her relief at his answer, pursing her lips together as she tried to contain her smile. That made her really happy to hear, though if pressed, she wouldn't entirely know why. All she could say was that she liked him. That he seemed like a real sweetheart, and Sarsi knew she needed more friends like that.
The ride was short, just as he'd said, and Sarsi pulled up to the front of his house, putting her hazard lights on and her car in park. A part of her wanted to ask if she could stay with him, sleep on his couch. She really didn't want to go home after tonight, but immediately tossed the idea away. She'd already imposed on him enough for one night. Maybe even one lifetime.
"Well, if it's all right with you, I'd very much like to get to know this new you," she said, offering one of her silly smiles as she tilted her head at him. "We can take it slow. Little bits at a time. What do you say?"
The sight of his house eased some of his anxiety. He wanted to leap out of he car and run inside. Lance fidgeted a little as she parked, twisting the seatbelt in one hand. Brows arched as he looked her over, wondering what could have endeared her so much to him. Lance offered a tight smile that felt more like a grimace.
"Th-th...that would b-be fine," Lance said unlocking the seatbelt and climbing out the door. He paused, biting down his lip. It was late. He didn't know how far she had to go, and the thought of having to drive after all this had to be exhausting. Lance wrung his hands before leaning back over her passenger side window.
"W-Would you l-like to s...stay the n-night?" Lance offered. "...It's late t-to b-b-be... um be driving."
She plugged in the route on her phone and started her car. Sarsi also made sure to put on some softer music rather than her typical pop and hip hop. Something to help soothe her nerves and maybe his. She also turned the radio down cause it had been blasting earlier. Her car was specious, even for someone like him, and smelled exactly how she had described with an undertone of new car smell. Smiling as she buckled up, Sarsi asked him if the route appeared correct on her carplay, and she pulled away from the gas station.
"Um... Lance... can I ask you a weird question?" Sarsi asked as they were stopped at a red light. Anxiety from the evenings intensity was starting to get to her.
"Are we... friends?" She asked, not daring to look at him almost afraid of his reaction. Perhaps a little explanation.
"Sorry, that is super weird, but I realized just now that I was assuming we were and that you probably don't see it that way, and if so, its fine. I'm still willing to help. I just didn't want to make an ass of myself, even if I already have."
She laughed at herself, but it was clear she was on the verge of tears. A combination of fear over his response, which she hoped he would be honest, and flashes of Corso's murder and her subsequent beating were coming back. She took a breath, willing the memories to go away at least until she'd dropped him off.
"Sorry, I'll shut up and drive now," she said as the light turned green. While she could be a bit of a crazy driver, after tonight, she was playing it a bit safer.
The odor of stale liquor and lingering perfume was enough to make his stomach turn all over again. He breathed in slowly through his nose as he settled into the passenger seat, clipping his seatbelt on mechanically. He nodded at her question and then glanced out the window. Just close your eyes and breathe and you'll be home in no time. Home, safe.
Sluggishly, Lance looked over at her question. A faint frown creased his brows as he studied her. Friends wasn't a word he would have used between them. Friendly acquaintances, perhaps, but friends was a stretch reserved for only the closest of his confidantes. Chai and Sana, Mikhail and Lara. Maybe before the mission, Sarsi had become someone he was beginning to enjoy seeing.
There was a clear anxiety in the question, in her rambling explanation. For some reason, maybe one that had nothing to do with him at all, she needed him to answer in the affirmative. Lance fidgeted with the seatbelt, looking out the windshield and then back at her.
"We c-can...b-be. We c-c-can be friends." If that's what you want. Caught on the tip of his tongue, because for once he had enough wherewithal to realize how it might sound. "You've b-b-been very k-kind."
He watched the scenery pass them by as she continued on. Familiar streets bleeding together.
"A lot...changed. I'm n-not the same p-person you m-met...back then."
"Of course, bother me anytime, day or night, and I mean it, Lance," she insisted, smiling nudging his hip with her own while they were still sitting. He didn't have to call her if he really didn't want to, which made her sad as she felt it was a real possibility, but she hoped he would.
She stood up with him, made sure he was okay to stand, then looked from him to her car and back again.
"Would you like me to take you home?" she asked, pointing with her thumb to her little Mercedes car. It was sleek and clean. Looked brand new, but that was mainly because Sarsi took care of her vehicles like they were her babies. "It might smell like Tequila and cheap women's perfume in there right now, but she's quiet. I don't mind."
In truth, she didn't want to be alone right now. The whole ordeal had left her petrified to go home alone, and she was terrified she would experience those weird flashbacks again.
She was right to be uncertain. Lance didn't trust easily, and the thought of being any more vulnerable in front of her was the last thing he wanted. Her offer was kind, though, and to spurn such kindness was awfully rude. Just as it would be stupid to refuse a ride when he was in no real state to make the trek back home. Lance nodded, looking away with a faint flush of his cheeks.
How frustrating this all was. He didn't even get his beer. It seemed like such a stupid thing to be upset about, but Lance liked his routines. He liked the normalcy. The slow progress could be difficult at times, even depressing, but Lance had been getting better. He was almost able to see the light at the end of the tunnel. And now?
He thought about the weight of the gun in his hands. The way the shot had rang out, loud and echoing. The sensation of the blindfold being removed, and his partner's brains splattered across the wall.
This wasn't the same-- he had to tell himself that. Nothing about this was the same, and yet the fear was there. What if she wasn't what she seemed either?
Lance shoo himself off and followed her to her car.
"It's not... It's not far." he said, as he offered up the address.
"No, not at all," Sarsi insisted, shaking her head. She removed her hand from his back since he seemed to be okay for the moment. Sarsi might have teased him for the smile, but figured he'd had enough of an emotional rollercoaster for the night. "I honestly wish there was more I could do to help you, but unfortunately, my expertise lies in fixing things, not people."
In fact, she had a bad tendency of making people worse it seemed like. She was a human tornado most days, coming in and wrecking lives as she went. It wasn't intentional, just a by product of her trying to live her best life. She tried not to trample others when she could help it.
"Are you sure?" she asked. "I don't mind, but if I'm being a bother to you, I'll go. Just um... let me give you my phone number if you ever need anything. I'm best at fixing things and sex, but I'm good at a lot of other stuff too."
She pulled out a business card from her cleavage because, of course, that's where she keeps them. One side was the number for her car shop, Wicked Wrench, the other side had her personal information on it, with a red lipstick stain kiss printed on the corner. She handed it to him with a small smile.
"Hold on," Sarsi said looking around the parking lot. "Lance, how did you get here? Do you need a ride?"
Her a bother to him? Lance almost felt like he was going to start crying all over again. Stupidly. He shook his head, wishing he could beam his thoughts into her brain instead of having to open his mouth. Speaking felt like so much effort. His head felt like it was going to leak out of his ears. It didn't seem to matter much, as she was ready to give him her number. Lance glanced away when she removed it, but took it without giving it a once over. The card went into his jeans pocket.
"Thanks," Lance said, the single word thick with effort.
He blinked up at her. Oh. Yes, he supposed that wasn't something he'd thought about. Lance didn't live all that far away-- but it was far enough. He took the walk all the time despite the hour, feeling safer under the cover darkness. To some, it wouldn't make sense. Wasn't this when all the criminals came out? Maybe that could be true, but it meant the streets were quiet. It meant there weren't people out. It meant Lance's only chance of interacting with anyone at all was the cashier at the convenience store.
That illusion had so thoroughly shattered, and just when he'd finally felt almost ready to start leaving his house earlier.
"P...Perhaps," Lance admitted. "Walked. M'not far."
With an effort that felt akin to running up a mountain, Lance stood. He wavered slightly, lightheadedness hitting him a second before fading.
Sarsi sat beside him, still rubbing circles into his back, not sure what else to do for him. Part of her wondered what had happened to him to have such a reaction to this. She'd been in gunfights before, had her own piece to deal with shit like this she had just left hers in her car, and had never seen anyone get quite this worked up. Her reaction felt almost normal, really. She was almost tempted to ask him about it but decided that probably was not a good idea. Maybe someday but not today.
"Mm, yeah, I might have... hooked up with a couple officers. They were off duty at the time, but uh... I decided once was enough, and they have decided to take that personally," Sarsi explained with a small shrug. "I've picked up quite the adoring fanbase over the years, believe it or not."
His second question caught her off guard, and she shifted uncomfortably, prepared to deflect a little.
"Me? Yeah I'm fine, I just... um..." Maybe she could be honest for once. He was being pretty vulnerable with her and probably against his will at that. "I had a little flashback while I was waiting in my car, nothing major. Brain making shit up and stuff."
He grimaced at the account. Lance would have had a few choice words for anyone like that, but those kind of cops were an especially disgusting band of thugs. It didn't bare thinking about. It was best that he didn't. Lance's lips quirked up a little at her fanbase. A tiny twitch of his lips. It quickly disappeared at her admission.
He nodded slowly. She didn't look so shaken. She looked relatively fine, though he knew how easy it was to wear a mask. Still better than him. Still stronger than he was. Lance looked away. If she could pull it together, couldn't he? No one had been seriously hurt. No one had been shot. It was a single man who barely weighed a thing. Hardly a threat. Hardly someone he should be afraid of, and yet here he was, shaking out of his skin.
"...You m-must...you m-m-must think I'm p-p-p...pathetic," Lance stammered, rubbing his face again as if it would get rid of the evidence. "You should... go. I'll b-be fine."
"No, no, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I wasn't thinking," she replied. Sarsi wasn't really sure why she had done it. She tried convincing herself that he looked like he needed one, but that felt like a lie. Maybe she'd been looking for comfort after crying like a child in her car. Nope, definitely wasn't that!
Sarsi winced as he vomited there in the parking lot. No matter how many times she had to deal with her drunk friends throwing up, it never got easier, and that was still true even now. Cautiously, she put a hand on his back, rubbing tiny circles into it, but fully prepared for him push her off again.
"Maybe you should sit down for a bit," Sarsi suggested, trying to ignore her 'widdle hurt feewings.' She hadn't been the one to face down the barrel of a gun a short while ago. Coupled with whatever bad thing had happened to him that forced him to retire, she figured he was having a far worse time at the moment. He did just throw up. Besides she'd had years to develop her coping habits. She'd be fine.
"Thanks for handling the cops, by the way," she said, hoping to help distract from everything. She began to ramble. "I probably could have sucked it up and handled it, but there are few guys in the force who would just love to see me behind bars (I think they've got it bad) and a few more who have a tiiiiny issue taking no for an answer."
The dizziness had yet to abate, and he remained doubled not quite done yet. Embarrassment would have made his face flushed red if it wasn't already. He grimaced. One hand found her shoulder as he straightened. As if he hadn't shoved her off of him not a second ago. Lance nodded, a slow movement, his head feeling like it was about split open.
"S'fine," Lance said, words slurring. He had to get it together. Pull himself out of his own head. Sarsi didn't need to do this for him. This wasn't fair to her. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't in any shape to be anything other than pathetic. The threat had pushed him to don a competent mask, and now they were no longer in danger. This was why he couldn't go back.
He ended up seated on an empty parking block stop, head pressed almost to his knees. He looked up at her explanation, red-rimmed eyes narrowed on her face.
"T...tiny issue?" Lance wiped at his face, sniffing. "...Are y-you alright?"
She wanted to ask if he was sure, but the sound of the sirens had her swallowing back those words. It felt selfish leaving him to deal with the cops, but there was a bit of bad blood between her and the boys in blue. A few straight laced officers were suspicious of her (which they were right to be), and a couple more were probably still mad she hadn't called them back.
"Okay, I owe you big time. I'll be just around the corner. You two," she gestured to both Lance and the cashier as she made for the door, giving them both finger guns and winking. "Never saw me."
Out the door she went, dark hair bouncing as she jogged in her heels to the side of the building where her car was parked. She got in her car, hoping and praying her tint was enough to hide her and that the officers didn't bother to check out her vehicle. Once in her car, Sarsi let out a shaky breath to calm her nerves. It didn't work as flashes of memories of that night when she was fifteen crossed her mind. Tears began to streak down her face as each memory played out in her mind. Some were the same as always. Her screaming as Corso lay in a pool of his own blood. His murderer's hideous laughter. Some of them she didn't recall remembering prior so she couldn't even be sure they were real. Somebody lying on top of her, grunting and laughing, hand on her throat before slapping her across the face. No, that had to be fake. That didn't happen. Her brain was just making stuff up now just to torment her.
"Fuck," she whimpered, desperately wiping away at her tears and smearing her makeup all over her face. She tried to take deep calming breaths, but each breath seemed shakier than the last before it finally let up.
It was a while before Sarsi managed to look up again. Police were starting to leave. Sarsi checked herself in the mirror, cleaning up her mess when she saw Lance step out. He looked ready to throw up right there. Shit.
"Lance!" she called as she got back out of her car. With most of the officers now gone, she decided she didn't care anymore and jogged up to him. Without thinking, she threw her arms around him in a hug.
He felt like he was talking to them in a trance. The second they were leaving, he couldn't remember a thing that had left his mouth. It seemed good enough as they took the criminal into their car. He saw them question the tired cashier. He knew he said something, told them what happened and how the man had been disarmed. He knew he had to have done all of this because they were done and done with him.
Lance tried to remember all the things he was supposed to do in this situation. He knew he needed to ground himself, he needed to count, or name things, or breathe. There was a softness to the edges of his vision. A real danger he was going to pass out right there in front of a damn convenience store at 3am. Focus, focus. What do you see?
(Nothing. Nothing except the darkness of the blindfold. The pressure of a gun to his head. The sound of a gunshot deafening in his ear and the whispered, This is your fault.)
Arms were suddenly around him and without thinking, Lance shoved her off. His eyes were wide, the entirety of his body shaking like a cornered prey animal. He blinked several times, finally seeing her, panic blossoming in fear for having pushed her.
"I'm... I'm-- I'm s-sss... s-s-sorry. S-sorry." Lance managed, before he turned to retch.
Sarsi immediately went off to find zip ties or something to restrain the criminal. When she couldn't find either--they either didn't have it or they were out--Sarsi grabbed the next best thing. Phone charging cables. She could work with that.
Good thing she had all that practice restraining people over the years. It was about to come in real handy. Thankfully the hooded individual didn't put up any resistance. As she worked, a part of her wondered if he was part of Caden's operation but immediately dismissed the notion.
Caden's guys typically work in squads. Pairs at the bare minimum, and they usually hit bigger targets like banks and jewelry stores. Sarsi thought to herself, her mind working overtime to stall the inevitable nervous breakdown that was bound to come when all was said and done. This poor fellow was just desperate for some cash. After restraining both his hands and feet, Sarsi checked the robber over, making sure everything was secure, and then made her way over to Lance. She noticed the cashier's bruise and offered to get something out of the fridge for them when Lance posed his question.
"I'd rather avoid it if I can," she replied, laughing nervously. "I have a bit of a history with a few too many of the officers." That's when she noticed how distant his eyes looked. Concerned, Sarsi gently took his hand, thumb rubbing the back of his hand, her grip loose so he could pull away if needed.
"Hey, you gonna be okay?" she asked.
Lance nodded, even as he questioned her 'history'. It was none of his business, and quite frankly, not important. Not right now. He would have to explain everything to the officers, himself, then. If he offered his previous employment, then they might allow Sarsi her anonymity. His chest felt tight. The lights were suddenly a little too bright. He sucked in a breath, swallowing around the tightness of his throat.
The touch of her hand almost startled him. He blinked a few times, glancing down at her hand holding his own. He had to focus on closing his fingers around her own. Yes, that was his hand. She was holding his hand. How pathetic that she had to comfort him when she had to have been shaken. Lance looked up to her, nodding jerkily as if that would really assure her.
"I will have...everything handled, no need to be... to be concerned." Lance managed, slowly taking in a few more deep breaths before taking his hand back. He just had to get through this whole interaction with the cops and then he could go home. Forget this even happened. "You should go..."
His confidence waned as he first heard the sound of sirens and then the flash of red and blue lights. There was nothing he could do other than take charge as he said he would. With the direct threat neutralized, his anxiety was creeping back up through the numbness. Sweat broke out across his skin as the cops entered onto the scene. He fumbled for his wallet, removing his ID with its RETIRED perforation.
Crouched low to the ground, Sarsi covered her ears, expecting to hear a gunshot after hearing the bottle smash on the ground. It never came, however, and she gathered her courage to stand back up just as Lance was yelling at the gunman to put his hands on his head.
Oh, right, he was former FBI.
"I'm on it," she called back, pulling out her cellphone to call the police. Taking a deep breath to calm herself so she could give accurate and clear information to the dispatcher, Sarsi put the phone to the ear. Explaining the situation, Sarsi made her way to the cashier to reassure them and also leave her number for their manager to call her to pay for any damage.
"Police are on their way. Can I get your name?" The dispatcher asked. Sarsi hesitated to give either her real name or her nickname.
"Beyoncé."
"Can you spell that?" Girl be so fucking for real right now.
"I wish to remain anonymous." Might not be possible since a good number of the police force knew her, in more ways than one, but it was worth a shot.
Handing her phone off to the cashier for them to stay on the phone with dispatch, Sarsi made her way over to Lance, keeping a safe distance. "Police are on their way. Do you want me to find something to restrain him?"
The motions were practiced, trained. Despite being out of the game for more than a year, Lance felt himself fall into the role of law enforcement as if he had never left. There was a detachedness to it. Like he wasn't entirely in control of what he was doing, riding in the back seat of a car as someone else took the wheel. Lance kept the gun trained on the hooded man as Sarsi's voice filtered into his ear. She sounded far away despite how close she was. He flicked his attention toward her for a second, expression tense.
"Zip ties or masking tape," Lance said, though he had a feeling the guy wasn't going to get up. Beneath him the man was shaking, hands completely splayed out in front of him. Lance rose up from his knelt position, gun still held at the ready. The adrenaline rush kept him sharp. If the guy moved, should he shoot?
It took almost 20 minutes for the cops to arrive. Lance gave Sarsi the chance to tie the man up, and once he knew there was no threat, he set the gun on the counter. The cashier flinched at it, stepping away and looking like they wanted to be anywhere other than here. There was a bruise blossoming on their face and Lance was glad he had intervened. It was a muted feeling.
"Are you alright with speaking to the cops?" Lance directed the question to Sarsi, his words slow and distracted.
He blinked, again surprised. Confused.
"You would...give me your number?" A stupid question, and rude. He was being rude when she was genuinely offering him some kind of help. He didn't have to call her, after all. He didn't have to actually impose. He should, however, take it down at least. To show he was grateful. Why was she bothering to waste any time on him? "I m-mean-- okay."
There was a faint flush at her admission. The insinuation that if she hadn't had her friends there she would have entertained one of those couple of guys. He would be lying if he hadn't thought about it at least once before. She was such a flirtatious, confident woman. Hard not to be at least a little taken by her vivacity. He may have mumbled something soft and inane like that's too bad, but the shouting at the register quickly dashed their conversation. Lance stiffened as he tried to see passed the tiered fridge and another snack pegboard.
He felt frozen, or like he had been doused in cold water. His breath caught in his throat for a beat. There was a stammered reply, something panicked like don't shoot me. It was hard to hear over the rush of blood in his ears. He glanced at Sarsi, reminding himself he wasn't the only one here. There was a gunman at the front of the store and keeping them from the exit. They could stay here, lay low, and hope for the best. He likely wasn't interested in anything other than the cash at the front. Lance slowly, ever so slowly, set down the case of beers. They barely clicked on the tiles.
"You tryin'a fuckin' stiff me? You tryin'a fuckin' call the cops on here? You better fuckin' not bro, or your heads gonna be plastered across the fuckin wall do you hear me? Give me the fuckin' money--"
The cashier's stammering turned shrill, as the robber became more unhinged. Lance grimaced, stepping forward and out of the aisle, purposefully knocking over tubes of pringles so they clattered over the floor. The shouting stopped, and in the quiet Lance could hear the robber's ragged near-hyperventilating.
"Who the fuck's there? Come on, come out, ya stupid rat."
Lance held his hands up as the robber came into view. A pale face man more than a few inches shorter than Lance, wearing a black hoodie. He held the gun aloft, aiming it at Lance.
Her hand was still inside her jacket, frozen over the pocket where her weapon should be. The panic made her freeze, forgetting all the training she had voluntarily gone through to keep her calm. She looked at Lance, silently asking him what they should do and immediately felt foolish for relying on him. Just a moment ago he seemed utterly terrified from interacting with her.
As he set his beer on the floor quietly, Sarsi felt her heart drop into her stomach as Lance made his way to the front. What the hell was he doing? She ducked down and silently slipped towards the back. When he purposely knocked down the pringles, she just about lost it.
"What are you doing?!" She whispered hoarsely, not even sure if he could hear her. She could hear the gunman come around, and Sarsi scurried down another aisle to keep out of his sight. Frantically looking around for something to use to fight back with. Maybe she could topple one of the endcaps on top of him, knock the gun out of his hand.
Next to her were some large glass wine bottles; she grabbed one of those in case she couldn't find anything else. Coming up around the other side, Sarsi watched as the man held his gun up as if to shoot Lance. Corso's dead body, bullet wound in the chest, flashed before her eyes, and she let out a scream.
"No!" Without thinking, she hurled the glass bottle at the man's head, immediately ducking back into the aisle for cover. If it landed and knocked him out, great! If it missed, hopefully Lance could do whatever he was planning thanks to her stupid ass distraction and neither of them gets shot.
Lance held back a wince at Sarsi's whispering. Civilians. He may have been one as well, now, but training didn't just disappear. He still knew exactly how this scenario could and should play out. He would have liked not to draw attention to himself, but he wasn't about to let the cashier get killed if he could help it. Now it was just a matter of disarming this guy. Talk him down, or make him falter. Not an easy task, but one Lance knew how to do.
Only, Sarsi yelled and the bottled arced over head. Eyes widened as the bottle crashed at the robber's feet. The jittery man jumped hard, yelping as if he'd been hit. It hadn't done much more than splash him as it shattered, leaving a dark stain across the floor. There was a split second to decide as the man's eyes darted to and fro, shouting nonsensically about how he was going to get rid of all of them.
Lance didn't hesitate. The second the man's attention wavered, he closed the distance between them. Lance slammed into him, the gun clattering from the robber's fingers. Quick, he snagged the gun, scrambling upright and over the hoodied figure.
"Hands on your head. Hands on your head and don't move!" Lance said, keeping the muzzle level to the man's head. "You have the right to remain silent. Everything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law--"
Without turning away from the would-be robber, Lance called out to Sarsi.
"Call 911. Now."
"Ok, well, I could give you my number in case you think of anything. I'm good at fixing things. Mainly vehicles, but I can fix just about anything. Except plumbing, I don't do that," she said, giggling at herself and feeling a little giddy at the sight of his smile. That was a good sign, right?
Sarsi watched while he browsed the snack aisle, casually following him before setting her beer case down, shaking her hand a little. It was starting to hurt her fingers.
"Yep, we had an excellent time. Couple guys wanted to hook up, but I couldn't abandon my friends so I had to turn them down," she rambled with a shrug. Sure keeping her drunk friends from wandering off was like herding cats, but she still managed to have a good time. She always did.
Her fun time was at an end, however, as the shout at the register sent her blood running cold. Keeping calm, she reached in the hidden inner pocket of her jacket for the piece she sometimes had on her for self defense. Panic began to rise when she realized she'd left it in the glovebox of her car.
Instantly, she felt fifteen again. Frozen. Helpless.
He blinked, again surprised. Confused.
"You would...give me your number?" A stupid question, and rude. He was being rude when she was genuinely offering him some kind of help. He didn't have to call her, after all. He didn't have to actually impose. He should, however, take it down at least. To show he was grateful. Why was she bothering to waste any time on him? "I m-mean-- okay."
There was a faint flush at her admission. The insinuation that if she hadn't had her friends there she would have entertained one of those couple of guys. He would be lying if he hadn't thought about it at least once before. She was such a flirtatious, confident woman. Hard not to be at least a little taken by her vivacity. He may have mumbled something soft and inane like that's too bad, but the shouting at the register quickly dashed their conversation. Lance stiffened as he tried to see passed the tiered fridge and another snack pegboard.
He felt frozen, or like he had been doused in cold water. His breath caught in his throat for a beat. There was a stammered reply, something panicked like don't shoot me. It was hard to hear over the rush of blood in his ears. He glanced at Sarsi, reminding himself he wasn't the only one here. There was a gunman at the front of the store and keeping them from the exit. They could stay here, lay low, and hope for the best. He likely wasn't interested in anything other than the cash at the front. Lance slowly, ever so slowly, set down the case of beers. They barely clicked on the tiles.
"You tryin'a fuckin' stiff me? You tryin'a fuckin' call the cops on here? You better fuckin' not bro, or your heads gonna be plastered across the fuckin wall do you hear me? Give me the fuckin' money--"
The cashier's stammering turned shrill, as the robber became more unhinged. Lance grimaced, stepping forward and out of the aisle, purposefully knocking over tubes of pringles so they clattered over the floor. The shouting stopped, and in the quiet Lance could hear the robber's ragged near-hyperventilating.
"Who the fuck's there? Come on, come out, ya stupid rat."
Lance held his hands up as the robber came into view. A pale face man more than a few inches shorter than Lance, wearing a black hoodie. He held the gun aloft, aiming it at Lance.
Sarsi watched as his fear turned to confusion, not sure what he could be confused about, but that seemed better than the anxiety in her mind. Still, she resisted the urge to be her usual self with her exaggerated gestures. A difficult task for her as she waited patiently for his answer.
"I'm sorry to hear that," she said, genuinely sympathetic. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Short of shutting up and leaving him alone, probably not, she thought to herself. She was no therapist; she fixed cars, not people. The other thing she was good at was definitely not going to be helpful either, not that she ever really got the vibe he was interested in her like that anyway. Which was fine.
"I'm doing good," she said with a nod, hearing the chime of the door but ignoring it. "Just finished being a designated driver for everyone else when I thought I'd stop and grab a few things."
Lance smiled sheepish, scratching the side of his neck. How did he answer that when he didn't know what to do for himself most of the time? He glanced down at the case of beer and then back up at her.
"No, I don't think so...b-but, uh, thank you." It was just one of those things you said to people, anyway. Especially if you weren't a terrible person and had some sense of empathy.
He took a few steps forward into the aisle ahead of them, gaze drawing over the bags of chips and snacks, again stuck on a decision. Too many choices and no direction. Did he want chips or something else? Lance nodded, looking over again.
"D-did you have a g-g...good time?" He hoped so. She always seemed "the life of the party" type. He didn't know if that changed when she wasn't the one drinking. Just as he was about to make his choice of snack, there was a shout at the front register.
"Empty the fucking register!" said the disembodied voice. "Empty it before I start fucking shooting!"
Im rooting for all knights/bodyguards who are in love with their charge/the one they are sworn to protect
@spectralstriked
He looked ready to bolt, and Sarsi worried she'd fucked up entirely. The last thing she wanted to do was cause him any stress or anguish, but--and call her selfish for this--she missed him and really wanted to reconnect with him. She still stopped by that bar on occasion, but her visits had become less frequent.
When he confirmed he knew her, Sarsi lit up like a christmas tree. Her nervous lip bitten smile turned to one of genuine relief, and she had to consciously stop herself from jumping for joy. Inwardly, she did a little fist pump in her head. Outwardly, she just adjusted her grip on the beer case and chips so both hands were holding it in front of her. Maybe a little bounce on the balls of her feet, causing her heels to clack a little on the dirty tile floor.
"Yep, that's me!" She affirmed grinning like a fool. Probably best not to mention that Chai had mentioned something bad had happened. Best to play dumb for now maybe. Keep Chai out of trouble. "It has. How have you been? I've missed our chats."
The change in her was obvious and instantaneous. Like she'd been worried he had forgotten her. For a moment, he forgot his fear, instead replaced by a blank sort of confusion. What was she so happy about? Lance blinked, clearly surprised by her bright demeanor. It was enough to draw him out of his stupor as he turned back to the fridge and pulled open the door. One case of Blue Moon... maybe he should grab something else. Too slowly, his attention drew back on Sarsi as if remembering he was supposed to be talking to her.
"Eh..." Lance's expression twisted. "Not...the best. S-surviving."
Lying didn't change anything. He could say he was fine and it wouldn't make it true. He knew what he looked like. Skittish and tired, his face pale and drawn. Not enough sunlight, not enough sleep. Lance glanced back up the aisles, considering his next item. The front door chimed. Lance glanced to the entrance, but all he could see was the glass door shift open and closed.
"And you? You look...well." Another too long pause between exchanges.
@condomconfetti
The only thing open at this hour was the 7-11, glowing a faint yellow through its dingy windows. There was a man hanging around outside, bedraggled and smelling of booze. Lance stalled nearly twenty minutes before he was able to walk up to the entrance and open the door. It swung hard and shut even faster, the hydraulic door stop barely easing it closed.
The dim light buzzed overhead casting an ugly tinted glow across the even uglier aisles. Off white metal shelves held junk food galore, while the tiered fridge in the middle of the store pretended to be healthy. Lance glanced briefly at the bored cashier and quietly tucked himself away by the alcohol fridge. He eyed cases of beer and hard seltzer, suddenly stuck between options like he didn't come here at the same time every week to buy the same six pack.
It was as he stared blankly into the fridge that he caught sight of another customer. A woman sidling up next to him as she peered into the fridge. His gaze dropped too long, and she looked up, brows arching the way people often did when they caught someone staring. Lance looked away quickly, before realizing he recognized her.
Where?
"D- do I know you?" Lance said, surprising himself. His voice sounded rough from disuse. When was the last time he'd really spoken to anyone? "S-ssorry. P-please disregard."
Sarsi stepped out of her car wearing a tight patent leather spaghetti strap dress, Louboutin red bottom shoes for a flash of color, and an oversized leather jacket she stole from Caden some years back. She'd just dropped off the last of her girlfriends after a night of clubbing. As the designated driver, she'd remained sober. It also meant she couldn't go home with anyone. A bummer, but one she could make up for with some cheap beer and some snacks to munch on in front of her big screen tv.
Humming the tune to Dance the Night by Dua Lipa, Sarsi stepped into the dingy gas station, ignoring the cashier and occasionally letting the lyrics fall out quietly as she swayed to the tune in her head. She went to the snack isle first, grabbing some Takis and Flaming Hot Cheetos, before making her way back to the fridge.
There was someone else in the isle, she'd noticed, but didn't immediately recognize him as she was caught up humming her theme song to herself. She'd opened to fridge to grab a case when she felt him staring at her. In her audacity, she was about to ask him if he liked what he saw when he spoke, and her jaw dropped.
"Lance?" she said. It was him, wasn't it? She didn't think she'd ever see him again. Not after what Chai had told her. Nothing specific, obviously, but enough to hint that something very bad had happened. She bit her lip as she decided not to disregard. "No, it's okay. It's me. Sarsi? We used to meet at that one bar. Purple Sunrise, I think it was."
She wasn't sure what she'd do if he didn't remember her. Give up? Let him go? Maybe apologize for disturbing him? That didn't seem right, but what else could she do? She was clutching her chips and beer case so tightly her knuckles were turning white. Please remember her, she begged silently.
Lance wanted to disappear. Let the floor open up and swallow him whole. In the split second between his words and her response, he wished he hadn't said anything. What reason did his traitorous mouth have to speak now? What made him do that? And now he was making it worse. He knew he looked like a deer in headlights, frozen underneath the sickly yellow lights as if about to bolt.
Sarsi. Purple Sunrise.
Finally, his gaze flicked away like a nervous rabbit. His shoulders loosened an inch. He sucked a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and Lance nodded shakily. How long had it been now, a year? Two? It had been a long while since he had been dragged out to Mikhail's club. Chai had tried a few times since his fuck-up, but the one time he'd made the attempt, he'd left an hour in.
When they had met, Lance was a different person. Someone poised and verbose, too-serious, but also easy to tease, easily flustered. Lance had never been arrogant, far from it. But the man who looked back at him in the mirror these days could not be recognized for the man he had been back then. That he was sure of.
"Chai's friend," he said, managing not to stumble on the words. "You um... it's b-b...b-been a long time."
@condomconfetti
The only thing open at this hour was the 7-11, glowing a faint yellow through its dingy windows. There was a man hanging around outside, bedraggled and smelling of booze. Lance stalled nearly twenty minutes before he was able to walk up to the entrance and open the door. It swung hard and shut even faster, the hydraulic door stop barely easing it closed.
The dim light buzzed overhead casting an ugly tinted glow across the even uglier aisles. Off white metal shelves held junk food galore, while the tiered fridge in the middle of the store pretended to be healthy. Lance glanced briefly at the bored cashier and quietly tucked himself away by the alcohol fridge. He eyed cases of beer and hard seltzer, suddenly stuck between options like he didn't come here at the same time every week to buy the same six pack.
It was as he stared blankly into the fridge that he caught sight of another customer. A woman sidling up next to him as she peered into the fridge. His gaze dropped too long, and she looked up, brows arching the way people often did when they caught someone staring. Lance looked away quickly, before realizing he recognized her.
Where?
"D- do I know you?" Lance said, surprising himself. His voice sounded rough from disuse. When was the last time he'd really spoken to anyone? "S-ssorry. P-please disregard."
