Well. I guess I have about 1.5k now, fixed up plot and all, so that's good! Not sure how much of the earlier stuff I'm going to be able to use (bummer, there's a lot of it) but we shall see. Have a scene!
***
Jensen’s voice over the radio is strained and frantic, going over the layout of the building, working his way to the North side. Cougar waits, breathes slow and even, and tries not to be annoyed by the rapid-fire staccato of Jensen’s impromptu escape in his ear.
The guards corner him right in front of the elevators.
Cougar wonders why Jensen doesn’t just take the stairs, but by the time this thought registers, the guards have boxed Jensen in, and he starts babbling some fantastic nonsense that makes the Hat thrum with glee and the Queen in his pocket hiss in pleasure.
Cougar sighs and lines up his shots, recognizing where the charade is going. The first two are solid to the body armor, and the third, out of Cougar’s line-of-sight, goes down without a fight. Jensen holds up an “okay” signal, takes a half-step toward the door—
And then someone shouts, loud enough to hear over Jensen’s mic, “Hold it!” and Cougar’s sightline is briefly interrupted by the advent of a woman, not tall and not particularly bristling with weapons, but Cougar well knows that one bullet, at that range and in the place she’s aiming — directly over the heart — will kill Jensen, body armor or no. Worse, he knows her, and he knows — even though he can’t see it at this angle — that she’s already squeezing the trigger, ever-so-lightly. (The standard trigger-discipline mantra — don’t touch it unless you expect to be pulling it in a moment — has always been meaningless, since she is always ready to put a bullet in someone.)
The Hat is too tight, too hot, and the Queen screams, Bring me her heart.
Shamefully, Cougar’s finger twitches, but it’s still braced against the guard while he waited for Jensen’s monologue to finish. It’s too late, anyway. She has passed out of his line of sight, now Jensen is in the way of his shot, and Cougar tries three times to tell Jensen to get clear now, but his mouth went bone-dry the moment he saw her face, and Jensen likely wouldn’t listen — the idiot is flirting with her.
“Hi, hi,” Jensen’s voice crackles over the radio, “Wow, that’s a really big gun. Could you point it somewhere else, maybe? I’m having a really hard time deciding whether I am more terrified for my life, or grateful that your face might be the last thing I’m gonna see, you know? Point that DEagle somewhere else — that would be a huge vote in favor of the latter option—”
There’s a murmur of her voice, and Cougar can barely see her, around Jensen’s bulk — first time he’s been frustrated by Jensen’s shoulders in this particular way.
“Awesome,” says Jensen. “Thank you for putting your scary gun away.”
Cougar is going to have a red mark on his fingertip where he’s too tense against the trigger guard, but this is a minor concern.
Her heart, the Queen demands. You know better than to let her live. Not after she’s seen his face. Caught his scent. Heard his pulse.
Jensen shifts his weight, wrapped up in the way the woman is laughing now, faint and tinny over his mic, not telegraphing for the sniper’s benefit anymore. The madness slides from Cougar’s crown, down his neck, across his arms, through his hands, and he knows where she is, certain as if he can see right through Jensen’s body. The Hat settles on his head, easy, now, and he pulls the trigger at the same instant that Jensen steps to the side.
Her head explodes, and Jensen swears, loud enough that the earpiece growls with overload, even as he’s leaping for the fire escape door.
Silence, madness -- the Hat keeps his hands steady as he follows Jensen’s descent, even behind the layers of concrete that surround the fire escape, all the way down.
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branchandroot
Team Wonderland
Date: 2012-06-26 09:09 am (UTC)***
Jensen’s voice over the radio is strained and frantic, going over the layout of the building, working his way to the North side. Cougar waits, breathes slow and even, and tries not to be annoyed by the rapid-fire staccato of Jensen’s impromptu escape in his ear.
The guards corner him right in front of the elevators.
Cougar wonders why Jensen doesn’t just take the stairs, but by the time this thought registers, the guards have boxed Jensen in, and he starts babbling some fantastic nonsense that makes the Hat thrum with glee and the Queen in his pocket hiss in pleasure.
Cougar sighs and lines up his shots, recognizing where the charade is going. The first two are solid to the body armor, and the third, out of Cougar’s line-of-sight, goes down without a fight. Jensen holds up an “okay” signal, takes a half-step toward the door—
And then someone shouts, loud enough to hear over Jensen’s mic, “Hold it!” and Cougar’s sightline is briefly interrupted by the advent of a woman, not tall and not particularly bristling with weapons, but Cougar well knows that one bullet, at that range and in the place she’s aiming — directly over the heart — will kill Jensen, body armor or no. Worse, he knows her, and he knows — even though he can’t see it at this angle — that she’s already squeezing the trigger, ever-so-lightly. (The standard trigger-discipline mantra — don’t touch it unless you expect to be pulling it in a moment — has always been meaningless, since she is always ready to put a bullet in someone.)
The Hat is too tight, too hot, and the Queen screams, Bring me her heart.
Shamefully, Cougar’s finger twitches, but it’s still braced against the guard while he waited for Jensen’s monologue to finish. It’s too late, anyway. She has passed out of his line of sight, now Jensen is in the way of his shot, and Cougar tries three times to tell Jensen to get clear now, but his mouth went bone-dry the moment he saw her face, and Jensen likely wouldn’t listen — the idiot is flirting with her.
“Hi, hi,” Jensen’s voice crackles over the radio, “Wow, that’s a really big gun. Could you point it somewhere else, maybe? I’m having a really hard time deciding whether I am more terrified for my life, or grateful that your face might be the last thing I’m gonna see, you know? Point that DEagle somewhere else — that would be a huge vote in favor of the latter option—”
There’s a murmur of her voice, and Cougar can barely see her, around Jensen’s bulk — first time he’s been frustrated by Jensen’s shoulders in this particular way.
“Awesome,” says Jensen. “Thank you for putting your scary gun away.”
Cougar is going to have a red mark on his fingertip where he’s too tense against the trigger guard, but this is a minor concern.
Her heart, the Queen demands. You know better than to let her live. Not after she’s seen his face. Caught his scent. Heard his pulse.
Jensen shifts his weight, wrapped up in the way the woman is laughing now, faint and tinny over his mic, not telegraphing for the sniper’s benefit anymore. The madness slides from Cougar’s crown, down his neck, across his arms, through his hands, and he knows where she is, certain as if he can see right through Jensen’s body. The Hat settles on his head, easy, now, and he pulls the trigger at the same instant that Jensen steps to the side.
Her head explodes, and Jensen swears, loud enough that the earpiece growls with overload, even as he’s leaping for the fire escape door.
Silence, madness -- the Hat keeps his hands steady as he follows Jensen’s descent, even behind the layers of concrete that surround the fire escape, all the way down.