Fish_Tales
Against the Current
- Joined
- Jun 24, 2011
- Posts
- 5,013
“But don't you know, I like'em big,” she said.
Cheeky sod.
Hansen got to work on the sandwiches. He had some rye bread and not much else. Mrs. Chan had given him a cold chicken for helping her clean her shop after vandals had sprayed the front of it and that would have to do for a filling. If they were going to be bunkered down longer, then he’d have to think about food tomorrow. He had plenty of beer, but survival on that would be difficult. He knew; he’d tried it.
Emma walked across to him.
“Um...I hate to keep taking advantage of your hospitality, but...I don't suppose I could use your shower for just a minute? It has been a few days and well...”
“Knock yourself out, Irish. I promise not to peek...much,” he said.
He chuckled to himself.
Wait till she finds out there’s no hot water.
He heard her draw her breath in sharply when the cold water hit her and he chuckled again.
“You’ll get used to it,” he called out to her as he walked to the fridge, but he didn’t think she heard him. He could have taken a quick peek at her on his way to fetch the chicken, but he didn’t think that was fair and it was no way to build trust. Much to his surprise, he really did like her. She’d coped well with everything that had been thrown at her and she’d retained her spirit. She was going to have tell him what was going on, but he figured a shower and the warmth of the room would make her feel comfortable. There was plenty of time for that.
He made a couple of chicken sandwiches for them each. He took another couple of beers from the fridge and set one next to her sandwich on the counter and then he went and sat on the bed to start his dinner. Well, at one a.m it wasn’t really dinner, but he needed to stop that gnawing in his stomach.
She walked out in his t shirt and it hung down to her knees. He chuckled to himself again. She looked freshly scrubbed and attractive, except her lips were blue.
It’s hard being on the run. Wait till you’ve been doing it for years.
“You’ll warm up soon enough,” he said looking at her with a wry grin.
He hadn’t bothered to put his jeans and t shirt on yet, but he figured if she was going to wear just a t shirt then there wasn’t too much between them now anyway.
She got her meal from the bench and sat down. “Thank you,” she said and began to eat.
“Don’t mind me with the beers,” he said, “but I do tend to like a few, ah, ‘tranquilizers’ of an evening. You don’t have to keep up, otherwise you might pass out. We might need to run again tomorrow and it’s murder with a hangover.”
He looked at her sitting on the edge of the bed.
You're a pretty one, Irish.
He finished a mouthful of his sandwich and washed it down with a beer. He studied her sitting on the bed as he ate. He always ate and drank slowly and chewed every mouthful very carefully. He was trying to think, but he really needed to know why they wanted her.
“So, Irish, er, I mean Emma. You say you’re a scientist. Now, I know I’m a charming hunk of a man, but why did I really run into you tonight?” he said. “And why do they want to kill you?”
He sat back and continued with his food.
Ball’s in your court, Irish. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.
He waited.
Cheeky sod.
Hansen got to work on the sandwiches. He had some rye bread and not much else. Mrs. Chan had given him a cold chicken for helping her clean her shop after vandals had sprayed the front of it and that would have to do for a filling. If they were going to be bunkered down longer, then he’d have to think about food tomorrow. He had plenty of beer, but survival on that would be difficult. He knew; he’d tried it.
Emma walked across to him.
“Um...I hate to keep taking advantage of your hospitality, but...I don't suppose I could use your shower for just a minute? It has been a few days and well...”
“Knock yourself out, Irish. I promise not to peek...much,” he said.
He chuckled to himself.
Wait till she finds out there’s no hot water.
He heard her draw her breath in sharply when the cold water hit her and he chuckled again.
“You’ll get used to it,” he called out to her as he walked to the fridge, but he didn’t think she heard him. He could have taken a quick peek at her on his way to fetch the chicken, but he didn’t think that was fair and it was no way to build trust. Much to his surprise, he really did like her. She’d coped well with everything that had been thrown at her and she’d retained her spirit. She was going to have tell him what was going on, but he figured a shower and the warmth of the room would make her feel comfortable. There was plenty of time for that.
He made a couple of chicken sandwiches for them each. He took another couple of beers from the fridge and set one next to her sandwich on the counter and then he went and sat on the bed to start his dinner. Well, at one a.m it wasn’t really dinner, but he needed to stop that gnawing in his stomach.
She walked out in his t shirt and it hung down to her knees. He chuckled to himself again. She looked freshly scrubbed and attractive, except her lips were blue.
It’s hard being on the run. Wait till you’ve been doing it for years.
“You’ll warm up soon enough,” he said looking at her with a wry grin.
He hadn’t bothered to put his jeans and t shirt on yet, but he figured if she was going to wear just a t shirt then there wasn’t too much between them now anyway.
She got her meal from the bench and sat down. “Thank you,” she said and began to eat.
“Don’t mind me with the beers,” he said, “but I do tend to like a few, ah, ‘tranquilizers’ of an evening. You don’t have to keep up, otherwise you might pass out. We might need to run again tomorrow and it’s murder with a hangover.”
He looked at her sitting on the edge of the bed.
You're a pretty one, Irish.
He finished a mouthful of his sandwich and washed it down with a beer. He studied her sitting on the bed as he ate. He always ate and drank slowly and chewed every mouthful very carefully. He was trying to think, but he really needed to know why they wanted her.
“So, Irish, er, I mean Emma. You say you’re a scientist. Now, I know I’m a charming hunk of a man, but why did I really run into you tonight?” he said. “And why do they want to kill you?”
He sat back and continued with his food.
Ball’s in your court, Irish. I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.
He waited.