quote:

"I think we'll be the ones talking about complications and consequences," Brendon said, cracking the knuckles in his fist.

That makes me giggle. It's such a fun mental image. =]

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I loved it!

Jon sounds like he's going to do something quite scary. o.O

Hmm... could be. ;D

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Updates will be delayed until sometime this weekend.
Please bear with me on this.

One of the young men slowly dimmed the lights of the now forgotten warehouse club. The smell of fog still hung in the air as Jon made his way over to the front door and checked the locks. He looked towards the group and nodded, then watched them file one by one into the back of the building. Feeling content that his hostage would have no means of escape, he traipsed over to the bar and poured himself a shot of his favorite drink. His eyes lingered on the glass for a while before he set it down and looked ahead at Agent M. A devious smile appeared on his lips. He quickly shook it off and poured himself another shot, downing it faster than the first.

"Aren't you going to do anything?" she asked, watching him with slight amusement.

"I'll get to you in a moment," he replied, setting his glass down. He pulled another shot glass from beneath the counter and began to pour two drinks, one for himself and one for her. Every few seconds his eyes would flicker up at her. He kept vigilant watch to thwart any rash plans of escape that she might have. "Do you like to drink?"

"Only on an occasion," she answered, slowly standing up from her seat. Her heels clicked against the floor in a steady beat as she made her way over to him. She casually slipped into one of the bar stools and watched him prepare the drinks. "Although it seems that you like to indulge in alcohol almost as much as an artist indulges in fine paintings."

He chuckled, finishing the two drinks with fresh sprigs of peppermint, and walked around the bar. "Some would say that alcohol is a fine art."

"And why is that?" she asked.

"Because it makes everything look more beautiful," he whispered, leaning in towards her ear. "But that's something to discuss later. Right now I need you to tell me more about yourself and why you're here."

"Why would I want to do that?" she inquired, looking at him with a studious expression.

"It would make things easier for both of us," he answered in a frustrated voice as he sat beside her. His fingers slipped around his glass, creating a subtle squeaking sound. The tiny beads of condensation that had collected on the outside of the sleek surface trickled onto the old bar. "Just tell me your name."

"My designation is S," she replied, watching the droplets. "I suppose, however, that what you really want isn't my designation?"

"No one asks for a designation when meeting someone at a bar." he stated.

"Very well then," she took in a deep breath and released it, then looked around the room. It wasn't exactly as she had seen it before. Previously, the room seemed alive. The varying colors of light and fog had made the rusty den look much like any other club, but now that the lights were off and the fog had dissipated it seemed like a dreary place. While surveying the room, she happened to notice a small silver panel near the front door. It hadn't stood out earlier, but now it seemed to call her attention. She looked over at her enemy, his eyes still fixed on his glass, and slowly turned herself towards the bar. "What's in this drink?"

"Just a few special ingredients," he answered, shifting his eyes towards her as she lifted the glass. "I thought you didn't like to drink?"

She looked at him for a moment as she brought the glass to her lips and answered, "I don't." With one sudden movement she smashed the glass into his head and leapt from the seat, heading towards the front door of the warehouse. Her fingers moved quickly as she pulled all of the locks open and used a hairpin to open the ones that used keys. In an attempt to assure herself that she was in the clear, she looked back over her shoulder at the bar.

He was gone.

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Stayin' Alive

I can finally find time to focus on this now that Dark Horizons is over.

^_^

Agent M, deciding that it was best not to find out where Jon had gone, turned back to the front door and grabbed the handle. The door stuck on its hinges and gave her quite a bit of trouble before she was able to loosen it and fling the gateway open to reveal-

"Hello lovely," said with a smile Jon as he held both guns up to her level. He placed both barrels against her bare shoulders and added with a smirk, "You weren't thinking of running away, were you?"

"How did you-" M whispered, taken by surprise. She looked back at the bar, then turned her head towards him once again with a face that revealed her shock.

"Trap doors," answered Jon. "They're very useful in times like these."

"I see," M gulped back a bit of fear. She had never been in this difficult a situation before. In fact, most of the missions that she had been assigned to had gone fairly smoothly. Even the few times that she had been captured she had been able to gain the upper hand quite quickly. These four, however, they seemed to know her every move. They were smart... perhaps too smart. She was going to need reinforcements.

"I've tried playing fair, but now it's time for us to talk business," he said, motioning for her to go back to the bar with one of the gun barrels. His demeanor had changed completely. "If you try anything like that again I won't be so lenient."

Agent M complied and made her way back to the bar, sitting down on the stool that she had previously occupied. Her eyes followed his as he reached underneath the bar and locked a pair of handcuffs onto a metal ring hidden on the underside of the wood. "I'm not going to wear those," she said with an intense flame in her eyes that dared him to talk back.

"You will," he replied, glancing down at the gun in his hand. "Unless you enjoy having bullets in your stomach."

"I can't believe this," she whispered under her breath as she held out one of her wrists to him. She sighed as he locked the handcuffs in place and sat on the stool next to her.

"Let's start with my first question, " he said as his eyes met hers. "What is your name?"

"My name is Samantha," Agent M answered. She had become quite adept at lying in recent months.

"And what was your mission?" asked Jon as he wrote down her information.

Agent M looked around the bar once again and answered, "You know what my mission was."

"To destroy our little troupe," he chuckled, running his fingers over the surface of the pen that he was writing with. "You know, I had expected better from the Z.A.A."

"Do you mean to insult my skills as an agent?" M asked, shifting uncomfortably in the cushy, round seat.

"I do," he replied. He began to lean forward, slowly invading her space. "It occurs to me that they sent you here because you were such a lowly agent. In fact, I would not be surprised if this were the most difficult mission that you've ever had."

"It is," she answered, her eyes moving away from his.

"Samantha," he chuckled, running a hand through her hair. "You know what you have to do to get out of here alive. Ryan has already informed me that the pendant is encoded. All you have to do is give me the code and I will will let you walk out of here."

Agent M's eyes flickered up towards Jon's once again as she whispered in a worried tone, "They didn't give me a code."

This message has been edited. Last edited by: MidnightsMuse,

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I really should update this, shouldn't I?