Short Speed Read: A newly decorated Detective of Seattle Washington, losses his soon to be fiancee, on the night of his promotion, Blair. Blair finds herself somewhere in limbo between life and death, as Sasha looks for answers outside of the law. It's a tale of reality shattering realization, where all you can cling to each the person you love.
MYTH: Sun shone through the windows of the small home, the smell of freshly mowed grass wafting through the screens guarding the interior from the outside world. It was small, the house, the pain beginning to chip around the corners and the fading color of it beginning to show as the sun began to show itself for longer periods of time. Seattle was funny that way; long periods of sunshine or long periods of rainfall. It never went both ways at once. The street was quiet, cars passing by slowly and with little noise. The sunlight was beginning to fade into dusk, the summer light failing them as the day shifted into night. The porch of the house was mostly bare, except for a few decorations and chairs. The front lawn small, a patch of green grass well maintained with a flower bed of tulips ranging in color lining the walkway from the driveway. The front door had been painted deep blue against the stark white of the painted walls, the trim painted the same blue color with the shutters on the windows following suit. It was small, and a small fence separated the front yard from the back, grass extending around and flagstones lining a makeshift walkway from the front to the gate. The backyard was a little bigger, a patio protruding from the sliding glass door where an old set of outside tables and chairs sat in a corner, a grill on the opposite side. Three steps led down to the grass in the yard, rather larger patch than the front, a tree breaking through the corner where it provided shade occasionally when the weather was nice. A small wind chime hung from the branches, making soft sounds as the breeze jingled the pipes together. Just as the front yard was well taken care of, so was the back. The grass mowed and cared for, varieties of plants lining the fences that boarded off their plot of land from the other homes beside and behind them. Music slithered out from the open window into the breeze, carrying the tune away into the evening.
A radio played a slightly static station, the DJ playing songs from today's artists as it sat on the kitchen counter overlooking the yard. The kitchen was small and cozy, the pale green of the paint on the wall providing soft contrast to the white of the cabinets that lined it. A small rectangular table protruded from the wall from a window, benches lined with pillows and cushions strewn about for comfort. The table was littered in paperwork, pens and pencils carelessly tossed aside from haste. Petite plum colored reading glasses lay folded up and neatly placed on top of a small pile of files. The station changed tunes as the breeze ruffled the edges of the papers on the table. The tile on the floor colored gray like the counter tops, a stark difference to the light oak of the table. A fresh vase of flowers from the yard placed near the backdoor, their heady scents overshadowed by the food cooking. The oven beeped loudly against the noise of the evening, a woman standing in front of the sink washing dishes. She was tall, likely almost five feet and ten inches tall. Her dark brown hair pulled lazily up into a pony tail swayed as she bounced gently along to the tune pouring from the speakers softly. Her white t-shirt hung off her left shoulder slightly, her tan bra strap exposed against her milky skin, the shirt stained with grass from a days work outside and dirt streaked across the stomach. Her jean shorts cut off mid-thigh, the light fabric frayed where she had cut them off, leaving her long legs exposed. Her bare feet tapped against the cold tile, hands immersed in dishwater as she pulled the plug to drain the sink, putting the last plate into the drying rack. She dried her hands on a towel, grabbing an oven mitt as she reached to turn off the timer, her intensely blue eyes focused on the chicken as she pulled it out to assess the readiness of it. Her face was tender and feminine, her cheekbones perfectly placed and her lips full and pink. She smiled, pulling out the chicken to rest and turning off the oven, grateful for the lack of heat it would now produce. She left the food to cool and left the kitchen, radio still softly playing as she went to the living room to tidy up.
A few articles of clothing hang over the back of the couch and she snatched up the men's t-shirts, along with her own pair of shorts from the previous day. The room was well furnished and tastefully decorated with ease. The couch large and imposing, the deep forest green color against the tan of the walls strikingly beautiful in comparison. A matching love seat echoed the couch, blankets strewn about it for easy access. A large TV hovered against the wall over the wood burning fireplace, the bricks lining the mantle beautifully set. Books and candles lazily rested underneath the TV on the top of the fireplace, the coffee table in front of the furniture was messy and topped with more papers. A shotgun leaning the corner on the far wall where the firewood sat in a basket. The front door to the right of the fireplace, a window next to that. Pictures hung up on the wall behind the couch, next to the entrance of the kitchen; all of them pictures of the woman and a larger, ruggedly handsome man, clumsy cursive scrawled "Blair and Sasha" in the white part of one of the Polaroids with others like it in a design beneath the glass of the frame. Similar pictures of the two of them from various trips or nights together lined the wall up to the hallway before doors began to appear, leading to the office, master bedroom, bathrooms. The opposite side housed their laundry room and the way to the garage. Blair tossed the clothes into a hamper in the laundry room, coming back, her feet padding against the hardwood floors to straighten up the rest of the living room in anticipation for Sasha to return from work. His job as a cop in the heart of Seattle made him home less often, and Blair noted that she missed his presence as he wasn't around quite as often as she would have liked. Sighing, she returned to the kitchen to finishing putting the dishes away, her heart anticipating the key in the door, the sound of the lock turning and the hinges creaking as he entered the home. Their home. She waited to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him, the feeling of his harder body against her own soft one a welcome contrast. Blair hummed along to the song as she contained her thoughts to finish her chores, hoping for that familiar feeling to return as he returned home to her safe and sound one more night.
BEAR: "Sasha?" The brown mop of visible hair moved as the head attached to it spun to face the direction of the question from the Sargent on duty. The messy cubicle was lined with papers, and the waste can had long since overflowed, Blair would kill him if the home office looked like his small cubicle at work. And his supervisors were not his biggest fan about the mess either. "Sasha? What the hell are you doing here?"
A confused look crossed olive eyes as he completed his turn in the worn down office chair before the piles of reports. "Finishing the shift boss-man."
"You had today off Sasha." More questioning eyes. "The Sargent gave up and looked around the corner of the cubicle to the calendar in every cubicle. It was two months expired. A small sigh and the man tore of the two sheets of papers, and tried to let the date sink in. One.... two..... boom. Like a freight train right between the eyes as Sasha scrambled from the chair dashing from the cubicle. Not an oh s**t, not a thanks Sarge just a made break for the car. His finger tore through his pockets and searched for the keys to the Crimson Red 1962 Ford Boss Mustang 302. While some people had an assortment of hobbies he had accommodated his appetite for a car ALMOST as attractive as the woman who put up with him on a daily, or rather nightly routine. I swear to God I am going to gut you and put in automatic locks and a key fob! There! Key. Keyhole. Key. Ignition. And the roaring engine sprang the car out of the parking garage and into the busy streets.
"How the hell do you forget a day like this?" And like a gift from God the driver in front of him found his damn accelerator and Sasha slipped off of the main streets and began cutting through some back, slightly lesser used streets, weaving his way through the streets until the sky began to open up from the tall buildings and showed more of the blue sky above. He looked back at the two wrapped hangers in the back of the old, American Muscle Car. At least he wasn't at a total loss, dress blues and a dress that would lead to him asking for the new turbo intake sometime in the next year or two. As the sky opened up into the suburbs he turned off the AC and rolled down the window, taking in the fresh air, and cool breeze across a face already beginning to show five o clock stubble. A quick flick of the wrist and adjustment of the dial and the radio sprung to life on a tune that melted into the very soul of the 27 year.
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His nose smelt the fresh grass before he saw the fresh cut grass on their lawn. Sasha through the shifter into park and ripped the keys out of the ignition, before grabbing the two wrapped hangers. He swung them over his shoulders as he moved up the path to the small simple house. The warm feeling of being home filling his mind, even as it told him to race forward in a panic, but that attitude wasn't home. This honor of the night wasn't anything more then home. Anything more then Blair. Nothing would replace that. All of the things he could speak to her about. The horrors of being a cop in the city. The stomach turning details that haunted him into taking more then one vial of medicine in the medicine cabinet all stayed at the office.
He had made mistakes in past lives with people. He had learned the hard way to leave work at work and separate the two places of living. Blair would never have to know the face he wore at work. And work would never scare, or break the man that walked into the door every evening, morning, or late at night. The changing shifts had tried in the past to sneak into the small house. The horrors had screamed to be released from the small cruiser or the desk 40 minutes away, but the cage stayed strong, the chain never cracked, and the lock never rusted.
Her face ignited a smile on his own, as the sunlight got a bit brighter even as it sunk in the sky, lighting the horizon like a giant firework. The sun warmed a little deeper past the physical skin and bone, and a cold soul danced in the warmth as it returned to him in the form of Blair. Her soft skin, begging him to never let go, a cool spring of water in an arid desert of his own being. But ALAS the ******** up had taken place. He put on his puppy dog eyes as he stole a kiss, as she moved away from him. "Guess what I forgot today?" He brought the two hangers up to her. One his class S uniform. The other, something that she had been dreaming off for months.... Sasha might have also been dreaming of it.... For other reasons of course.
MYTH: Blair heard the engine in the driveway roar into the spot next to her own little car. While he drove the beautiful and flashy car, Blair had opted for the sensible car of the two; a teal colored sedan, an older model of a ford focus custom painted. The engine turned off, and the door opened and closed, her ears tuned to listen for his footsteps up the walkway to the door where the knob turned. The door opened and Blair smiled despite herself, happy to hear him walk to her as she tossed back her head to say hello, her lips captured in a soft kiss before she pulled away, setting the dish drying towel on the rack. She turned her body to face him, noticing the garment bags hung over his shoulder before he brought them to her. "Forgot?" She recognized the brand on one of the bags, the other was obviously his dress uniform from the cleaners. "Don't tell me..." She unzipped the garment bag while it hung on his fingers, exposing the sight of the dress she had lusted after for months. She was surprised he had remembered, as busy as he was usually with work. It suddenly dawned on her that today was the Police Officer's Ball. She looked down on herself the grass and dirt stains on her shirt, her skin and hair dirty from the days work in the yard. "Uh!" She nabbed the dress from his hand and used her free hand to smack his arm, "You big dope! How do you forget something like this?" Blair couldn't help but laugh, even as she was frustrated with the time constraints to her appearance for the ball. She bounced up on her tip toes, her lips meeting his as she hooked her free arm around his neck. "Also, welcome home... And thank you for my dress." She murmured as she pulled away, smiling as she darted from him to race to the shower.
Blair couldn't believe she had forgotten the date as well, but she vaguely recalled the invitation in the mail, sitting somewhere amidst the clutter of their paperwork that littered the flat surfaces. The water turned on, Blair threw off her clothes and left them in a pile by the door, the dress hung up on the hook in their closet door. The water wasn't even warm but she threw herself in anyway, desperate to get the dirt and grime off of her, rinsing her hair. It didn't take long for her to finish, and she wrapped the towel around her body as she got out to assess the clock on the wall. Noting she had about an hour and a half to finish up, she made quick work of her hair with the blow dryer and a brush, pinning it up in her haste to finish everything on time and still look presentable to the other wives and girlfriends that would be there silently judging. At least she had that spectacular dress to show them all up with. Her face lit up just thinking about it, the rich red color of it, the light design of flowers, backless. That would show even the captain's wife. She softened a little as she thought about Sasha buying the dress, how expensive it must have been. He even got the size right. But, why shouldn't he? He knew her body as well as she did. A small blush crept up her cheeks as she finished applying her foundation for her makeup, grabbing the eye shadow and eye liner to carefully apply them. Once done with that, finished with her eyes and a lipstick color a shade of red darker than her dress carefully painted on her lips, Blair glanced at the clock once more; ahead of schedule. She tossed the towel in the hamper in the closet as she nabbed her undergarments appropriate for the nature of the fabric of the dress and looked over her heel selection in the small walk in closet. "Sasha, do you need your dress shoes?" She called from the small room attached to the master bedroom, spotting his shoes next to her own favorite black heels. She grabbed both pairs and tossed them on the bed, along with her black clutch purse to accompany the ensemble, with a lacy black shawl to drape over her shoulders if it came to it. She knew she would be able to steal Sasha's jacket to his uniform.
The red dress hung in the garment bag as she unzipped it and peeled it away from the fabric to toss it on the bed. The dress hung in all its glorious design, her face beaming with excitement at owning and now wearing this dress she had longed for for months since she had seen it downtown one day when she went to being Sasha his lunch. How in the world did she get so lucky as to end up with Sasha after all the mistakes and bad relationships she had endured in the past? Her thoughts lingering on him as she unhooked the dress from the hanger and slipped it on. It was a perfect fit, as she expected, and she zipped up the small zipper on the side that accommodated her hips in the fabric that didn't give much against her rather curvy figure. It was like a glove, the feeling wonderful. She spun on her toes, assessing the extra fabric around her legs as it twirled around her. Movement was easy and fluid as she made her way to her shoes on the bed, slipping them on easily as she bent to fasten the straps around her ankles, the dress pulled up for her ease. Walking back to the bathroom, she slid a few silver bangles around her left wrist, and absently she wondered what else she should wear with it. Blair decided the dress was enough flash for now, and finished pinning her hair in place before emerging for her clutch purse to find Sasha. "Ready, love? How do I look? Presentable?" She laughed softly, emerging from the bathroom back to the bedroom. She anticipated the sight of him in his dress uniform, her heart skipping beats as she thought about the way it fit his body just perfectly. It skipped more beats when she thought about after the party.
BEAR: "I still say the you look better without the dress!" He called as she had already darted away/ Sasha found himself lost in how lucky he was to not only get off with only a play slap to the head, but with someone so willing to embrace him for all of his self destructive ways. Blair was in every since the rudder to his open sails. He could own his own catch the winds and move himself, but it was the rudder to turn him away from crashing upon the awaiting rocks of foreign shores, all to willing to swallow him, and end the journey he was currently enjoying. With a full on smile on his face he moved to his small assortment of toiletries in the smaller bathroom down the hall. He had learned long ago that his odd hours of work and getting in and up to keep a small amount of stuff in a small bag under the sink to not disturb Blair in the early mornings.
Wallet on the counter, keys out of the pocket, cellphone, and finally his service fire arm and paddle kydex holster. He gave himself a one more look over in the mirror. One more time in his 'service blues' after tonight he could go to work in his own street clothes. No more spending nights with Blair trying to find a way to make the uniform look a little more relax and in his style. God if it wasn't for her working on the ironing board, the straight seams would have disappeared long ago. "Alright pal... it hasn't been that fun to be honest." He began tearing away the shirt and gave his undershirt a quick smell before deciding to exchange it for another in his 'stash bag.' The alarm on his phone finally sounded... Sasha looked puzzled as he peered at the memo and the time. 5:30PM..... <> He groaned as he slid the alarm bar across the phone canceling the noise. "Thanks past me.... awesome job..." He was just finishing up, before Blair's question had him looking down at the black socks on the lamenent floor of the small bathroom. "I was just looking for those be there in a second!" He called as he finally got the tie in place and centered. He did a once over, throwing his wallet in the back pocket. His keys in the jacket pocket. A small note card with notes on his small speech he was to give, his phone in another inner pocket, with the volume set to nadda. He sighed giving himself a once over. "Pretty good for a trained monkey..." Any other officer would have left the room. He was dressed with the exception of his shoes.
He dug through the small duffle-bag before his fingers found the cylindrical links of matte grey, laying near the bottom of the kit, of now mostly dirty clothes. A razor still damp from a shave, and a toothbrush that should in all meanings have gone in a container before getting tossed back into the bag. He gently pulled the old dog tags from the bag and slipped them into his left breast pocket, giving a quick glance to the mirror triple checking if any of the outlines of his everyday carry items showed through the fabric Alright Dad, good to have you with me. He was almost satisfied before his eyes caught the glimpse of a yellowing crinkled edge of a Polaroid picture from two summer ago, he swore as he held the picture up to his face he could still smell the beach. And their in the center a smiling Blair amongst the surf, as the waves attempted to shimmer in the sun, greedy for the attention of the shot, but not out done by the jewel with a smile that still sent Sasha's heart fluttering. "Wow Sasha, you don't deserve that." A teasing voice of his Sargent echoed in his mind from his comments as he had seen the picture over his should last year. The bathing suite modest, but well fitted, and after hundreds of shots this one was the one Sasha had brought with him in the brim of his hat. Something about the curve of her body, and the purest smile he had yet to see. He was right. But as he heard her shuffling from his position he smiled at the thought of how lucky he was. He tucked the faded picture into his breast pocket, nestled to the old dog tags of the 1960's era.
"I hear at my next promotion they just give you a noose to wrap around your neck instead of a tie." Sasha entered the room holding the tie end up above his head and making a silly face motioning to a hanging, before losing himself in Blair. ".......Damn... The mayor is 63 years old. I'll tell them to have medics on standby." He motioned to his heart as he slipped into his dress shoes. "I'm gonna be knocking heads around if I don't want someone to try and take you from me." He said as he pulled her into a hug.
MYTH: Blair laughed at Sasha's joke before she felt the familiar blush at the compliments as he pulled her into a hug. He smelled clean, but his skin smelled like peace and steadied her heart beat. He anchored her down to earth, her head up in the clouds for most of her life before she met him. He was the rock that kept her from being swept away in the tide that rushed over the sand. "Stop it, you silly man." She pulled herself away from him slightly to look up as he kept his arms wrapped around her. She was only slightly shorter than normal in heels, able to look him in the eyes more fully now. Her arms came up to wrap around his neck, clutch in hand. "I would be surprised if I didn't have to beat women off with a stick tonight, the way you fit those dress blues of yours." She pecked his lips, careful not to leave a red smear of lipstick in her wake. "Let's get going though, or we'll be late." Blair smiled as she reluctantly pulled herself from his embrace, snatching up his car keys from the counter and tossing them for him to catch. "We'll take your car." She stuffed her things into the clutch indelicately and nabbed the shawl from the back of the couch where she tossed it and followed after him out the front door. She nodded silent approval at her yard work, the smell of the fresh grass and the upturned earth where the flowers bloomed against the drab gray of the cement walkway. It wasn't half bad if she didn't say so herself. Blair watched Sasha walk in front of her, keys into the door soon enough and the door held open for her to slip inside the classic car. The door shut and she buckled herself up, setting her things in her lap and waiting for Sasha to make his way around to the driver's side to take them downtown for some fun. She could hardly contain her excitement; the music, the food, the dancing, the beautiful dresses and the handsome men to accompany in their dress blues. This time of year felt like a sort of fairy tale for her, and she didn't believe she had actually forgotten the date. She knew she had had it marked on her calendar for months now, from when she had received the invitation in the mail one afternoon.
The drive to the ballroom took longer than she wanted, light conversation about their days accompanied the drive, easy talk with each other. Anything and everything seemed to be shared as much and as often as they could share it with each other. Blair counted herself lucky to have him around to keep her rooted, keep her level. She felt the car turn into the city and she smiled, the ball getting closer. Sasha drove a little faster it seemed, anxious as much as she was to get there. They parked down the street, ignoring the valet service provided to them for the short jaunt down the sidewalks of Seattle to the party. She could hear the music from the streets as they approached, her hand in his with her fingers laced through. She practically bounced with excitement as she did every year since she had met Sasha when we went. How long had it been? Four, no, maybe five years? The time flew by as she hadn't been paying attention, not needing to count the hours and minutes and seconds with him but only without him. Days seemed to slip by slower when she was alone, but when he was around they seemed to slip past her. He distracted her from the everyday strain of life, his goofy jokes and easy personality made her forget about everything except him in front of her. Her blue eyes glanced at him as they reached the open doorway to the ballroom where they would spend the evening. She could already feel the heat of eyes watching them, assessing her outfit, assessing their relationship. It mattered not to her, since she knew she belonged with him no matter what. She couldn't picture herself with anyone else, and she didn't want anyone else. There was only Sasha. She squeezed his hand slightly, grabbing his attention, his eyes piercing her heart as they gazed at her. "Ready?" The whole night was ahead of them, the possibilities were endless. Blair placed her lips against his cheek, the front of her body pressed against his arm as she leaned into him.
BEAR: Did she notice? Did she see my hand tremble when I opened the door? Did she see my eyes waver back to my own seat? What would she say if he told her 'Let's get out of here.' like their date nights so long ago. Did she notice his knee lock up in middle of that stride as we walked to the door. Does she see it in my face. Does she know that she is playing follow the leader, and I'm following from her side, not from behind? Why did there have to be a damn speech in front of so many people... and cameras...
"...Ready?..."
Get me the hell out of here! Take me home and get me out of this spotlight! Take me home and let me take the dress off slowly. Let me celebrate with you, my greatest treasure. Not here, not with these people... Sasha let out the best smile he could muster as a part of him pleaded with her to take his arm and throw him back into the car. While it had never come to forefront before, this was a fear of his, Public Speaking and this damn speech. His eyes locked onto the confidence that she inspired in him, the glistening sapphire blues glimmering under the bright lights emanating from the door of the building. "Yeah... Let's go meet the mayor, and get our promotion." She stepped off from him and towards the lights of the public where all could adore her under the bright lights. Knowing her movements or not, she was the final jump out of the plane that sent him into the free fall of the night. She pulled on his hand as she moved quicker up the steps, the doormen opening the door for them as the night air vanished into the wordy air of the grand ballroom. The golden light of the chandlers, and the warmth of bodies filled the air. Where as the night air was light with the ideas of escape under the silver moonlight, the ballroom was the heaviness and warmth of the sun.
Sasha watched as those in attendance moved from before Blair. Her leading Sasha into the political environment. Sasha watched the eyes of others as they took in the beauty of Blair amongst the lights, quickly admitting in their eyes her unchecked grandeur. As the men coveted, admired, and drooled, Sasha caught the local news anchor flash an aura of jealousy as the Mayor pulled from their conversation and towards Sasha and Blair. Sasha was thoroughly convinced that his honoring was only an excuse to close the gap between the aging, white, 67 year old who had been groomed for politics from a young age. His father before him a congressman from Washington. The man was symbolic of the new trend of American governmental family legacies, and indirectly the top boss when it came to Sasha's new position. While the DEA was who he would report to... he had often heard of the mumbling from the other detectives about the Mayor and his tendencies to blow certain stories out of the water to gain political fame for himself. Ah yes, as the man looked to Blair hunger in his eyes Sasha chocked back his disgust for the man.
The man had little to say and was only showing that he was readying to stay near HIS newest appointee. Someone must have heard the SOS Sasha was putting out as 'Sarge' from before appeared in the crowds. No longer in his city blues, but in his own immaculate class S uniform adorned with medals and citations upon the chest, almost three times as many as Sasha, despite the fact that Sasha was now of a higher rank then him. The man would never be an underling in his mind. Even now he was a breath of fresh air and he felt his shoulders relaxed as the Calvary made it's way to the cornered Sasha and Blair, who seemed to remain cordial amongst the closing eyes of those around them. The 'Sarge' had been there since the death of Sasha's father only five days after his gradation from the police academy. And in a time of change and crisis, he had remained calm and a guiding hand to a Sasha, without Blair 7 years ago. The man was no friend, it was more. As Sasha grew in the force, 'Sarge' became more family, with every scar, and damaging act against him on the streets, 'Sarge' became more of father figure in figuring things out. Always quick with advice that you could follow, and resources you could use.
"Mr. Mayor," He interjected with a voice like a deep, amber, honey, full of warmth and smooth, and rich. The mayor turned to him his face of bliss continuing from the eyes of Blair to the Brown, intelligent, gaze of the 54 year old, 27 year veteran that was Sarge. Many of the medals and citation from the mayor himself from years prior. "Why don't you excuse the happy couple to the dance floor, I do believe they only have so long until the band breaks for your speech."
The mayor looked to Blair once more, and then to Sasha giving him a nod. "Yes, well then. I suppose that is correct. Allow the youth their night to celebrate a great occasion." And with that the plump man moved back to his wife, and the lawyers in their seats behind the red rope and podium.
The 'Sarge' remained before them, and Sasha stumbled on thanking him or introducing Blair and 'Sarge', while he should remain clear in the times Sasha did speak of work at home. "Ah... Sargent Kimble, this is my Fi- Girlfirend Blair. Blair this is Sargent Kimble." Sasha shock off the near slip of his tongue and awaited the introductions between the two of them.
"Your reputation proceeds you, yet the pictures in Sasha's office do you no justice as you are tonight Mam'."
Sasha let the two of them talk as he calmed down and took in the room. His eyes meeting those of officers he knew in the crowd, he returned waves to those who waved to him, and watched as the officers returned to their own accompaniment to explain who Sasha, and more likely who 'the movie-star' he was with was. And then he caught him in the crowd. His nose pointing downwards into a small notebook. While Sasha could point out how his features were horrible, the man looked like a model for an action figure. While Sasha only knew him as the sketch artist that they called upon from time to time, he looked nothing like the other artist, reeking more of a James Bond type, then an artistic kind. Hawk-like features and slicked back, jet black hair. He caught Sasha's gaze as he looked up from his place on one of the chair circling the room, and he closed the notebook before putting it within his breast pocket. Giving Sasha a small nod of his head as he did so to show a hello. Sasha returned it instinct-fully before the action sent a shiver down his spine, his whole body twitching under the Class S Uniform, and he only hoped the a*****e didn't see it. While others had always told him to calm down or make reference to jealousy that was not there, Sasha hated the man. It had nothing to do with a rustic All American look versus City Slicker European Business Tycoon looks. Everything about the man had alarms going inside of Sasha's head. He broke visuals after confirming the man was once again alone, despite the woman near him attempting to break the ice with him.
He couldn't help but muttering "******** creep..." under his breath and Blair and 'Sarge' spoke on and introduced themselves. He tried to go over a plan for the night to forget the man who he only knew as Josh... likely a fake name as Police, and victim, contact with sketch artist was under anonymity of the artist for their protection. It was likely not even Sarge knew the man's name.....
MYTH: Blair watched Sasha battle with himself, knowing he was likely pleading with her inside his head to let them leave. She knew him well enough to know when he was uncomfortable, and these events always made him cringe. It was all she could do to keep herself from pointing it out and making a show of trying to calm his nerves. Quiet confidence was always best in situations like these; when he was, for once, timid. She took his hand after he nodded in response to his question, fingers interlocking with his in a firm grip that she hoped would instill confidence from her to him. As the doors opened and the cool, sweet night air faded. The air in the ballroom reeked of white noise, static conversations happening throughout the hall as she continued forward through the parting crowd. Oblivious to the jealous stares, envy, lust. Blair pushed forward gracefully with Sasha by her side. She cared little for the opinions of others, her thoughts focused on Sasha as they made their way through. She could see from the corner of her eye that the mayor had excused himself from his conversation with the popular news anchor to join them, and she politely made small talk with him as she usually did at all the functions. It never failed that he would come and talk with her, and she noted that his wife was un-amused at his obvious liking to her. Kindly she kept up intelligent conversation with him, hoping for any kind of interruption from the dull man's poor attempt at flirtatious conversation.
The interruption came in the form of Sasha's previous Sargent, whom she had only seen through passing encounters by chance. Sasha talked about him quite a lot, and seemed to look up to the veteran as a father figure he had lost at too young age. Blair could see that hole in his heart, shot right through the core of him, but this older man seemed to slowly heal it, and she was grateful for that. His comments made her blush, unable to utter a thank you as she nodded her head, hand gripping Sasha's slightly as the mayor excused himself from them. "Thank you for that very welcome interruption. It was needed; he can blather." Blair remarked as she heard herself introduced, not without noticing Sasha's strange slip up at naming their relationship, to the man who so exuded an air of earth and hospitality from his very center. His nature seemed caring but determined and strong. "I'm Blair Lyone. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, sir." The man's hand shake was firm and confident and Blair tried to match it with her own confidence. They talked a little while, mostly about Sasha, and as they had begun wrapping up their conversation she noticed Sasha wasn't paying attention. She looked to where he was looking and spotted a meek looking man, ignoring most everyone around him and scribbling in his little book. She looked back to the Sargent and her mind went blank. As if she had never seen him, she heard Sasha mutter and looked to where he was looking, as if she were seeing the man for the first time. It felt like deja-vu, looking at him. Without a second thought she excused the two of them from their conversation and walked with Sasha to grab a drink. Spotting the only alcohol that wasn't carbonated, she grabbed the white wine with reluctance and meandered away from the table with Sasha's hand still gripped in hers. She hadn't let go since they entered the room, unable and unwilling to be separated unless she had to be. Someone tapped on a microphone and cleared their throat to gain attention.
Blair realized they wanted to get started with the promotions and make their way into the evening briskly, and she pulled Sasha from the throng of people gathered in front of the stage to the wall away from the crowd. A slightly quieter space where she could calm his nerves. "Looks like they're getting ready to start..." She quietly mused as set her drink down on a nearby table to take both of his hands in hers, clutch and shawl checked at the entrance. Blair pulled him down slightly to press her lips to his in a kiss that would make anyone blush. She broke it softly to press a sweet kiss to the tip of his nose. "You have your dog tags, right?" Her hand pressed to his breast pocket, feeling the outline of the tags, now familiar with the significance and reason for keeping them around. She felt another thing in the pocket, the outline of a picture. She pulled open the pocket as she reached inside his jacket and stared at it, disbelieving that he had the picture with him. It was obviously from earlier in their relationship, the white edges of the Polaroid picture beginning to yellow with age and wear. "You... You kept this? All this time?" Blair looked up at Sasha, amusement sparkling in her sapphire eyes as she watched his sheepish smile form, snatching back the picture and replacing it in his pocket over his heart. Blair pressed a kiss to his lips once again, her fingers gripping the lapels of his jacket to pull him close up against her. "You will do just fine. I will be right here on the side; you can just focus on me when you have to. I'll be right here the whole time." She pressed a series of kisses to his lips with a soft giggle. "I'll never leave you." She heard them beginning to announce the promotions and she gave him one last sly smile before turning him around to face the stage and waited for his name to be called.
Once Sasha had taken the stage, with reluctance he was adept at hiding now, beginning his speech. His words flowed easily, and Blair felt pride swell in her heart as he spoke, unable to comprehend how luck and happenstance had brought them together so many years ago. It wasn't a long speech she knew, having helped him rehearse it even if it made him feel silly at the time. Blair delighted in pushing his limitations and boundaries and having him do the same for her. She picked up her glass of white wine and sipped delicately at it as he looked at her a moment before returning to the cards. Goosebumps formed along her arms, and she shivered despite herself, feeling as though she were standing underneath a vent for the air conditioning. Blair felt her mind get fuzzy, her legs grow weary and rubber-like. Bit she didn't remember drinking anything more than a few sips of her wine, which likely had been watered down anyway. She could see her vision darkening, sounds drowning out to the roaring in her head. And suddenly, searing pain began to make its way from the core of her body, the feeling like being shot through the middle but without the shock. It was everywhere, the pain like burning flames in her very being. She wanted to scream, but she couldn't find the strength or even the sounds to make. The pain was overwhelming, consuming her entire thoughts and being. A tugging feeling began to pull at her mind, like someone has reached a hand inside her very soul and was yanking her off the face of the earth too soon, like when you pulled a strong weed and it was too stubborn to let go. It hurt, the feeling, and she wanted to fight it. The will to live against the pain was beginning to dwindle in her, she could feel it. But, leaving her life now, now that she had Sasha. She was finally happy. She couldn't leave now, she didn't want to leave Sasha. Her love for him was overwhelming. Blair felt her legs give way as her arms fell limp against her body, the glass in her hand falling in what seemed like slow motion. As it hit the ground and shattered, the liquid splattering the ground, she heard the sound of chains being rattled and a brief yank on them before she didn't feel, didn't see, didn't hear. She didn't even hear Sasha from across the room, the people gathered around her as she knew her body was likely crashing to the ground. Nothing felt natural about this, nothing seemed right. But she couldn't stop it, whatever it was. She knew these feelings felt like hours to her, days even, but they likely looked like seconds to everyone else. Nothing was as it seemed. In fact, what she felt no one had seen. No one had watched as the man she had forgotten about, that creepy hawklike face set in determination as he had reached inside her and pulled at the chains of her soul that tethered her to this earth. No one had seen the man standing behind her, making quick work of dispatching her from the world without a second thought. The look of satisfaction as he watched Sasha from his position behind Blair, hand reached inside her as though she were made of water. The looks of frustration as he was unable to completely sever all the chains of her soul from the earth before Sasha was running to her and the crowd began turning to see the commotion. If they did see, they wouldn't have remembered; the man had that effect on people. But Sasha wasn't like that. He was dangerous. He noticed. And Blair was the obvious choice for the links of his life to fracture.
And just like that, she was gone, feeling herself drift from her body as a deep slumber began taking over. Darkness, a void, nothingness.
Lethargy had overtaken her muscles and mind, making everything heavy and hard to move. Slowly, she could feel her fingers twitching back to life, the movements bringing life back into her limp and leadened arms. Her hands pressed against the ground as she struggled to get herself upright. Eyelids fluttered open only to be met with more darkness, her head turned awkwardly as it sat heavily on her neck and shoulders. Blair felt the dirt before she saw it, the familiar feeling of the slightly moist earth against the sensitive skin over her palms. "Dirt...?" Her voice felt thick and the sound didn't make any echo. Her mind struggled to catch up, to remember anything at all. Wherever she was she didn't belong, it felt off somehow. The earth here was wrong, the feeling similar but wrong as if it wasn't really earth but something synthetic. Blair pushed herself to lay on her hip, propped up by one arm to hold her body up against the pressure keeping her down. Nothing seemed to make any sense. Her memory was foggy, her body heavy; eyes unable to see and ears struggling for any sound to reach her. Silence, complete silence against the darkness.
Blair turned her head around, funding nothing familiar around her. She realized she was still wearing her red dress, the extravagant dress now slightly dirty. Her heels were still on too, and she reached down to unhook the straps watching her fingers fumble with the buckles and straps until finally she was able to slip them off. Stilettos didn't really work in a forest, which is where she could only assume she was now. Blair felt her mind spin, the wheels turning against the rust that had set in between the cogs. Had she been kidnapped? Left here to die? Why was she dressed so well? She remembered putting the dress on, but, for what reason? Blair rubbed two fingers against both temples, frustrated with the fog settling in around her brain. She searched for any memory to get herself out of here, focusing on anything that came to mind. Frustration took over in the end and she huffed, her breath fogging in a tiny puff before her lips. She wanted nothing more than to be with Sasha at a time like this. Wait! Sasha! That's it! The nights events replayed in her head in fast forward motion, but she didn't remember anything out of the ordinary. Sasha had been doing his speech, about to end it when she fell to the ground. Blair fought to find any reason for her fall, but nothing seemed to stand out to her. She didn't remember anything after she went black. And now she found herself sitting in the middle of this pitch black forest all alone, without Sasha, in her stupid dress and heels and left to rot. Blair hugged her knees to her chest and chocked back a sob, feeling like crying despite her will to keep it inside and make herself get up and move.
Her head shot up as she heard sirens, but looking around she saw nothing but darkness and the vague outlines of trees, dense in the forest. Sirens? What for? Where? Blair searched for the answers but the sound faded back to nothingness. Sasha's voice shouted at her, worry and concern plain in his tone as he talked, and Blair wanted to shout back that she was fine, but her voice didn't work. And the sound faded. She choked back another sob of grief, believing her mind to be playing cruel jokes on her. And then that deep, rich voice of Sasha's Sargent talking at her. Asking her questions, trying to see if she were alright. And that faded away too. Blair stood quickly as it did, searching for the sounds origin. Anywhere. It had to be somewhere, right? "I'll finish you yet..." A man's voice called over her, the tone obviously sinister in nature. "Your time will come." Blair looked for any sign of someone. Anyone. Noise. Voices. The trees rustled uneasily. Blair turned around slowly, looking at her surroundings carefully. Everything that Sasha had taught her went out the window. She knew how to handle men or animals. She didn't know what these were, these things with eyes staring at her from the shadows. Whatever these things were they were looking at her strangely, and suddenly Blair felt very frightened once again, her body waking up faster as adrenaline pumped through her veins. "I want to go home!" She shouted, fists clenched to her sides. "I don't wanna be here! Sasha! Take me home! Find me! Please!" Tears ran down her face as she tried to look around again, hoping she had frightened the monsters in the shadows. "I don't belong here. I belong with Sasha. I want Sasha." Blair told herself, as if she said it enough times maybe it would be somehow true and she could wake up from the bad dream and see Sasha's sleeping face when she turned over in bed. "Sasha, where are you...?" She cried harder now, fear taking hold of her shivering body. She closed her eyes against the now roar of the creatures from the shadows, the noises overwhelming.
Hospital monitors. The soft 'beep' of a heart monitor against the noise surrounding her. "Go there." She told herself, clenching her eyes shut and hugging her body as she sat on the ground with her legs pulled to her chest. "Anywhere but here. Go there." She forced herself to think about that soft sound, and suddenly, silence. The beeping continued, making the sound louder as the hospital room was small. A plethora of machines were in the room, all making various noises that softly reverberated against the walls and ceiling. A bed, someone laying in it, and someone sitting beside them having one hand clenching the smaller one and the other pressing a phone to his ear. Wait. She knew this man. It was Sasha. Relief swept over her body as she ran to him, throwing her arms around him. But she couldn't touch him. Get near him. Confusion filled her brain as she followed the arm he was holding to the rest of the body, recognizing herself, laying there asleep in the bed. "But that's impossible... I'm right here. Sasha, don't you see me? I'm here!" This had to be a bad nightmare. It couldn't be real. She didn't want it to be real. Blair walked to the other side of the bed, taking in the sight of her hooked up to all the machines. She looked at her body laying there in a hospital gown, covered with blankets. Then she looked up at Sasha, his face stained with tears as he tried to talk on the phone, obviously uncomfortable with the conversation. He had taken off his dress uniform jacket and it hung on the chair back behind him. "Hello?" She stood over the bed, watching him, doing anything to get his attention. Nothing worked. He was focused on the Blair in the hospital bed. Every sound was muffled except for the monitors in the room, taking her vitals every few minutes. How could this happen? She was perfectly healthy by all means.
Blair sat in the corner of the room, watching from the floor as Sasha stayed with her and waited. She could see him just waiting for her to wake up, to stand and leave with him. Anything to show him she was still there. And, she wasn't. At least not in her body anymore. Blair focused and tried to make the dream disappear, but it didn't go away. Every time she opened her eyes, it was the same vision of her body laying limp and Sasha searching for an answer. She cried, trying to understand why. What happened. Nothing she thought about made any sense. The door opening brought her out of her sullen thoughts. "Where is my baby?" A loud, masculine voice called, and she watched her father march into the room. Michael Lyone was a family well known business tycoon in Seattle; tall and classically handsome, his features hard and set. His brow was creased with worry as he approached the other side of the bed slowly, taking up her limp hand and pressing it to his lips. "Stay calm, Michael. We don't have the whole story yet." A soft feminine voice called from the closing doorway. Her mother was here too, it seemed. The woman with the laugh lines and mousy brown hair in a hasty bun approached Sasha and set a hand on his shoulder, her other hand rubbing his arm softly. "Tell us what happened, Sasha." Her eyes were filled with tears that threatened to fall at any moment as she glance from Blair's sleeping face to Sasha's own distraught one. "This is all his fault, obviously! For heavens sake! They were in a ball room full if policemen and no one could do a thing for her!" Her father angrily lashed out, tears obviously plain in his eyes that he kept in check. "Michael, shush!" Her mother, Angela, snapped, obviously not in agreement with her forlorn husband. "Don't worry, Sasha." She could plainly see the worry and fear and sadness in his eyes with her own blue ones, eerily like Blair's. "The doctors and nurses say she is perfectly fine. She'll come back. I know she will. You don't owe us an apology or anything of the sort." "Speak for yourself..." Her father muttered under his breath as he knelt next to the bed.
"Of course I will, guys." Blair spoke, despite not being able to be heard. She looked from her corner of the room, wiping tears away. "I just don't know when..." She mused, looking at Sasha with longing in her eyes. And then she focused on her father, his grief surprising her. He had never been an affectionate man, and Blair was the baby of the three sisters. She watched him grieve for her, finding it both frightening and heartwarming all at once. Her mother had always been a kind and gentle soul, and had loved Sasha from the day they had met him.
They didn't stay long, but long enough to check on her and see Sasha and hear some of his side of the story. They left soon after, Angela with a reassuring pat and kiss for Sasha and Michael with a gruff nod as he opened the doorway to the hall to shoo all the news reporters away from the door. Angela followed and Blair watched the door close and silence once again fill the room. What was she gonna do? He couldn't see or hear her. She walked to Sasha and stood behind him, longing to embrace him and make everything okay with a night of passion to forget any of the lingering bad dreams she was surely having. But the longer she was here, the more she realized she wasn't going back to her body any time soon. And she wasn't about to let herself get taken back to that forest of creatures from the shadows, but in the back of her mind she knew she didn't have the power to stay here forever. But she didn't want to leave Sasha. Not yet. She needed him to see her. To acknowledge her presence in the room. His anger and grief were distracting him, blocking her from him. Somehow she needed to tell him she was okay, for now. "Oh Sahsa..." Blair choked another sob back as she watched Sasha with her limp body. BEAR: Of course I kept the photo. When you work in the dark you need to carry your sunshine with you.... "When this is over you owe me a dance." Sasha flashed her a smile as her lips left his and she took a remote spot in the room as he was torn away and brought to the front by a sense of duty. His eyes never left her as he awaited his announcement to the podium. He gave her one last flash before the blinding lights of camera's and directional lighting from the local news station crews temporarily blinded him. His eyes adjusted and he began, eyes now overlooking the room full of friends, officers, politicians, and a full slew of new graduating cadets. He scanned the room with his eyes looking to a line on the back wall of the large room. To the crowd it seemed as if he was on tact, but in reality if he would catch a single eye upon him from the crowd the stage fright would hit him and he would get the shakes.
His speech was a simple and short one. Opening with a joke, some stupid gag about having to wear a tie and working for a living. Advice to the new cadets, as he was being honored for becoming one of the youngest detectives the city had seen. Not the youngest, but close to it, a pretty large accomplishment, but he down played it. A little bit of political a** kissing, and an end on the joke. Keep the crowd laughing. But before he could hit his punchline on the final joke he watched in horror as the creep took off down the hall, and Blair fell like a sack of flour to the floor. His mind raced, and went from relaxed to war face in faster then a nerve could fire, and before he knew it cleared the obstacles and the people in his way as he raced to the fallen Blair.
"STOP THAT ********!" Sasha pointed to the door that what he had thought was only the local sketch artist they called in from time to time. He didn't have time to see if anyone followed his orders. An entire room full of people trained to act in a time of crisis, but put them in suites and get a couple of drinks in them and they moved at the speed of molasses moving over a horizontal plane. His hands made quick work as he felt for a pulse and brushed over her looking for blood. Looking for the wound. Trying to fix the problem.... He felt a strong pulse.... and no where was there a wound. "Blair... Blair, honey... babe... wake up.... What the ******** did he do?" He felt the room spin as people stood by doing nothing to help him. A single strong hand re-centered the incident as it weighed on his right shoulder. 'Sarge' to the rescue as he double checked Blair's vitals. "Did you get him?"
"Sasha?" Sarge's eyes met his own filled with confusion. Filled with concern. "Who? Did I get who Sasha? Who did this?" His voice was deep with concern, pleading for a clue as to what was going on. Sasha could hear a small shake to the calmness that he had grown to finding comfort in. 'Sarge' hadn't seen the normally down to earth Sasha like this. He had never seen the hell fire behind the man's eyes like he did now. Sasha made his words clear in his nonverbal communication. Stay here, with Blair, keep her safe. You're the only one I trust right now.
Indeed the entire room felt like strangers, as someone announced they were a doctor and was moving through the crowd to Blair. Sasha's hands tensed, as every muscle in his body flared. No one was going after the artist. No one was acting like they had seen him moving amongst the otherwise still room. No one even acknowledging what Sasha had seen with his own eyes. She was fine. Blair was fine before he brushed past her... wait... had it been a brush? He didn't stick around to answer himself as he ran to the incoming security guard and plucked his nightstick from his belt. The man protested, but a fiery aura he was met with kept him babbling for words and Sasha took off down the hall. In a full spring, bounding to close the distance between him and the man. His ideas burning with the images of getting his hands on the son of a b***h.
His entire being wanted nothing more then to find the man and catch him. Every cell desiring to impact and crush the other man's body. Every fiber of being demanding to be in on the a** kicking. He wouldn't stop until he was dead. And if he didn't finish the job, he would be out of jail one day. ******** being a cop, this fight was personal, he didn't need or want the protection of the shield of his badge.
As he ran, he heard the ambulance pull up to the building.... His mind put the brakes on things as he found no one, found nothing in the darkness of the night air around him. The ambulance began to pass him, the back door opened and 'Sarge' was there to pull Sasha into the vehicle before it sped off to the local hospital. Sasha upon the inner seat of the small vehicles as the paramedics tried to run a troubleshoot. Everything said she was fine. Everything says she was fine. Sasha could only hold her hand to his cheek as hot tears found their way curving down his face. He couldn't feel 'Sarge's' hand on his back. He didn't hear anything around him as he stayed by her side, not deterred by the doctors and nurses telling him he couldn't follow. The 'Sarge' backed him up and gave credentials as they rushed her towards different diagnostics. Sasha standing outside of every room, waiting for her to wake up.... It didn't come.... and in six hours he found himself sitting next to her in a small room. With more wires, and tubes connected to her like a spider web keeping her from waking up and walking out of the room with Sasha.
He red dress hung from the coat rack in the room. Sasha sat. He heard the commotion outside of the room, as the news teams had followed them here sensing a story that would sell papers, and the morning news alike. He finally started the calls. His fingers found his phone and he dialed up her parents...
Sasha was having flashbacks to a darker day in his past as the bellowing voice of Blair's father responded to his call over the phone. His prayers had been unanswered and Blair's mother was likely just being woken from a solid nights sleep, with news that no parent wants to hear.... especially from the man they trusted their daughter with. Her father was relentless, and Sasha was powerless but to take the verbal beat down with gritted teeth, mad for all of the same reasons, completely aware that the officers outside the door were there to keep people out just as much as to keep an eye on him. He hadn't been made detective for his looks, or public favor. Right now until things blew over he was prime suspect number one, and would remain on the list until the toxicology report came back in the next few days.
His only reprieve from the waves of anger from within his own head, and the business man of the town that was Blair's father was the calming interjections from Blair's mother. Likely the only person on his side right now. It was her words breaking up that of Blair's father. While Sasha's brain tempted with the idea of half cocking his mouth and letting the rounds fly, he kept the inner monsters at bay, reluctantly... for her sake and no others. He only told them the story as he knew it. It was the story he would tell the internal investigations soon as well. They would eye him with concern and speculation. One of them knew the happiness that Blair had brought into his life, the other sticking to the facts. Low class male, works his way into a respectable career path, finds the daughter of an affluent man to do so, maybe he passed some money to the Mayor to get the citation for him, but now he was bored and the girl had to go. At least that's how it read to Sasha. That's how it always reads... it's always the husband....
He walked them to the door when the abuse decided to end, closing it again as the reports pushed on the officers at the small appearance of him through the crack in the door. He closed it.... all of the events starting to pile up on his shoulders. "Couldn't even bother to stay huh? Important meetings to make yeah? Gotta seal that deal right? Make that money? Grease those palms?" He was glad Blair couldn't hear him now, it was anger speaking nothing more, but it was a side of him he would keep at bay before her. It was a side he kept on the other side of the doormat at home, but not now.
He hit the chair like a prize fighter after going 12 rounds in a heavy weight boxing match. His body an odd mix of ready to hunt down the perp, and mentally destroyed. The next two days was a blur. Names of people from the office, the FBI made an appearance, the Mayor and his squad of reporters were allowed some brief time under the advisement of Sasha's lawyer, which he wasn't sure when he appointed one.... Blair's parents came back with a vengeance. In both ways. Blair's mother bringing him a deli sandwich, and a cookie, as well as a small flask that smelled of Whiskey. Her father now not blaming just Sasha but the crappy hospital staff, and the services that Sasha could afford. He took it, the bars were cracking but every time he thought he was going to slip he looked over to Blair upon the bed and he shoved it back, but he was growing tired..
Blair's siblings flew into town, made an appearance on the second day, but they were of little comfort. It seemed they were here to make an appearance more out of some idea, then out of concern, but Sasha was defensive now. After the constant attacks he was solidly standing his ground to all comers in the small room from a fox hole, a thousand yard stare upon his face, as the lack of sleep, the lack of silence, began to sink into his physical expressions. The world spun and he existed defending his fox hole, waiting for any kind of relief from the bombardment and then, fashionably late the civilian clothed James 'Sarge' Kimble moved into the room. His face comforting, but pained when he saw the mess of hair on Sasha's head. In his hand he carried a small bag containing a laptop, paperwork, and a charger cord. He was here for the long stay. Sasha was being relieved whether he liked it or not.
"News from the top says your innocent. Congradulations." "It's always the husband... It's not over...." "Is it this time?" "I'm not her husband.... yet." His fingers fumbled over the small case in his pocket. "Good alibi.... You're still a cop as of now. Cleared of all charges or suspicion. That being said, we take care of our own. Go home Sasha... Get some sleep, take a shower, My shift ends when you come back." "I......I ca-" "It's an order detective. Not from me, from the chief, and the mayor for that matter. There is a police escort outside that will take you back to your house. I already took care of your car."
Sasha could only look to the man. His knees trembled, as his mind considered collapsing right there. Yet all he could muster was a smirk and a handshake as he moved towards the door. Leaving Kimble in the room, only catching a flash of his motioning as if telling someone in the room to follow Sasha. Sasha tried to shake it off but gave one last look around the room to see if he had missed another occupant in the haze of the last couple of hours, but all that met him was Blair, resting on the bed. For all intense and purpose simply asleep, and completely healthy...
Thirty minutes in a 'lit up' cruiser and he was home. Standing in the front yard of a building that he couldn't see as home. The officer in the car... George... "Go inside Sasha. Get some rest. Give the chief a call when you get back on your feet. Sasha moved heavily towards the door. The small amounts of possessions that he had accumulated in his pockets or under his arms. A cell phone long dead heavy under the mental weight of being jammed full of messages of concern, anger, information, and pleading for interviews. He found himself in their bedroom, his back sinking into the mattress, as he hand grasped for the photo of them on his end table. Sleep would find him clenching the photo in a death embrace, warm streams of tears falling from his eyes, as the world began to recenter, and all of the events began to replay and catch up to him in time. As the tides of sleep began erod
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Posted: Wed Nov 18, 2015 5:09 pm
The Sounds of The Stalking Remnent
Shut up and Dance by Walk the Moon Nothin' like you by Dan and Shay Lovin' you easy by Zac Brown Band Not my time by 3 Doors Down Photograph by Ed Sheeran Ain't no sunshine by Bill Withers Superstition by Stevie Wonder Whatever it is by Zac Brown Band
Posted: Wed Nov 18, 2015 5:13 pm
On this episode of DRAGON. BALL. Z!
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Posted: Sun Nov 22, 2015 5:41 pm
Sasha Thompson "You Only Hold me Up Like This.... Because You Don't Know Who I Really Am..."
Sasha spent the better part of the next hours putting together what had happened to his old friend, in the old shack. Clint's men had left taking there member Sasha has injured to the hospital.
"So you're really serious about this girl..."
Sasha only responded by taking the small container out of his pocket showing off the ring he had planned on giving her that night on the stage, in front of the media. He was going to give her his big moment. He didn't care about protocal, or about the rank itself, only in sharing his place in life with her.
Clint whistled as his eyes ran over the ring. " Don't suppose I was on the guest list then?"
"I'd rather keep my old habits away from my new life..." Sasha clinched internally as he faced a friend who had kept to the life he had turned his back on. Mentally he knew what he said was true, but to say it to someone who still made a living in the manner was something else."
"I'ts alright Sasha.... This life isn't for everyone. Besides you aren't even Irish, this isn't your fight to begin with." Clint lent back in his chair and pondered the information as he looked to the dull cieling above the two men, and the swirling dust in the air. The particles tossed about aloft in the air under the influence of a sea breeze that permiated from the small opening's in the buildings exterior, the insulation long shot and gone seperating the two from the breeze outside. He sighed and placed his hand on the shotgun on the table Sasha had used earlier. Sasha flinched and instinctfully reached for the gun, only to be met with Clint's glare from over the table. Sasha's hand paused in mid air. "Don't be cleaver now Sasha, the way I see it, you used this shotgun to blow a whole in my door. No worries, the weapon will not be connected to any crime, I'll even write you a reciept for it showing you no longer have it yeah?" Clint pushed himself back from the table shotgun in hand and moved back inward into the building and out of Sasha's vision.
Sasha waited, listening for the sound of a shell being racked into the chamber. He felt guilty, but he was on the other side of the law now. He was the enemy of Clint by all means, and the only thing keeping them together a string of the past that Sasha had spent the better part of a decade hiding and erasing from his memory. Clint returned without the shotgun and instead a small black case, in his right hand and a newly lit cigar in his mouth. He placed the container on the table and slowly opened the lid revealing the weapon inside of the case. A SIG Sauer P226, .40 caliber with an extra magazine, serial numbers long gone and shaved off. "Fair trade?" Sasha looked back uneasy.
"Why you here man? The way I see it things are bad. This guy your after is long gone, and protected by the system you serve. You wouldnt be here if you were in a good spot. This guy messed with your life man. Way I see it you're going to need a clean gun."
Sasha began to clear the mental fog away from the idea that he had come here for information, and for the same reasoning that was just laid out before him. He was fighting a system, one that he could not work from if the job before him was to be done. He slowly came to terms and closed the lid of the case nodding in agree ment as a peice of paper landed smoothly on the table, a reciept of selling the shotgun to an alias of Clint's.
"Now if you want information? I got nothing. This is a stop and go. We buy the items we need to buy, wash them and send them where they are needed. I do not have much of a footprint here, but I do have some associates who might be of some help." Clint placed a hand on Sasha's shoulder. "Still there for you Sash. Good to see you again. I'll give you a call if I come accross something alright?"
================================================================================================================= Sarge had to keep back a chuckle at the reaction from Blair at him noticing her. Even the small huffs of sound as rich as amber honey from the country side, of some exotic far off countryside. The man had a means to calm people down, and would make anyone in search of a baritone for a church choir fall in love in a heart beat. "I can see and hear you, yes. Just like my mother had the gift, and her mother before her." He consoled her as she tried to get her story out of lips and a mind who had seen to much in to short of time. He wished his hand could lay on her shoulder in comfort, but still made the motion of place his hand on her shoulder, wiether or not she could feel him. He made it a constant to ensure his hand never entered her out of respect more then anything.
His heart yearned for the girl as she laid out how worried she was about Sasha, and not about her current condition. "You are not the cause for a breakdown. The one who did this is. You will find in time, that sometimes men, like Sasha need to break down some walls to see the full picture. That boy has seen more long nights, and the worse of most of this city. He never backed down from the badge, and the resonisbility, I highly doubt that he will back down now." He let the words sink in before continueing.
"I can tell you this. You are not dead. This is something different. Hope is not yet dead, but I need to ask you to come with me. Likely there are things in this place that will follow you, search for your body for a place to take root and come back. I'd like you to come with me to my house for dinner." He watched slight hesitation. "I'm expecting Sasha as well, he just might not know it yet."
When she was done she took a deep breath and tugged at the dog tags around her neck gently. "I'm worried about Sasha..." She whispered just loud enough for Sarge to hear. "I'm don't know what to do. What can I do?" She rubbed her face with her hands then ran them through her hair, leaning her back against the bed with her legs crossed in front of her. "He needs help. And here I am, the cause of his problems. The cause for his breakdown." Blair hung her head, eyes tightly shut against the flow of tears that threatened to fall again. Tears wouldn't help anything, and yet the natural reaction couldn't be stopped. She felt defeated and frustrated that she couldn't stop feeling that way. Her resolve was wavering as she sat here, even as a sign of possible hope sat before her.
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