please come get me; you can trust me; shit, are you bleeding?; bobbisharon 👀
She’s running out of time.
Alarms are blaring, lights are flashing; she keeps runningtowards where she remembers the exit being, the flashdrive full on intelsecured in a chain around her neck. It was supposed to have been an in-and-outmission, but Parker had fucked it up royally and now the entire building securityteam was on her tail.
She smashes her baton into a guard’s face as she rounds thecorner; she’s about to kick the next one in the balls when he drops from a shotin the back. She looks up and sees a familiar blonde ponytail and practicallysighs in relief.
“Took you long enough,” she calls, and Sharon looks at her,raising an eyebrow.
“I was in the middle of a date when I got your “please comeget me” signal, I’ll have you know,” she answered, extending a hand towardsBobbi. The taller woman takes it, letting Sharon pull her along towards theexit.
They duck into a doorway at the sight of a group of guards;they’re pressed together, and Bobbi winces, hand going to her side. Sharonfrowns, lifting her hand carefully. “Shit, Bob, are you bleeding?”
“Grazed my side. Hurts like a bitch but I’ll be fine,” sheanswers, letting Sharon look at the wound. “Come on, let’s get to the safehouse.”
They make it to the safe house with relative ease; Sharonfinds the booze while Bobbi grabs the first aid kit, hissing as she dabs alcoholon the graze.
“Let me stitch it,” Sharon offers as she brings Bobbi andglass of vodka on ice; Bobbi hands her the needle and thread as she knocks thedrink back.
“You can trust me, you know,” Bobbi says after a few momentswhile Sharon finishes her stitches. Sharon looks up at her, eyebrow half-raisedin question. “Don’t run, this time, Sharon.”
Blue eyes meet hers in a long moment of silence before theother blonde leans up, mouth meeting hers languidly.
“Okay,” she whispered, nose brushing hers. “No more running.”
