Bomb
Oliver sits in the restaurant across the street with his mobile phone up to his ear. He is smiling at you through the window as you watch him from your car. "If you keep grinning like that, they're going to know something's up," you say to him over your cell phone.
"So? I'll just say, "What am I smiling at? Take a look at that exquisite creature in the car over there. She must make her boyfriend terribly happy.""
"Happy? Sure that was the "h" word you were searching for?"
"Ah...well..."
"I'm hanging up now," you say, smiling.
He chuckles lightly over the phone. "Good timing, here comes someone anyway. Bye Love, wish me luck."
"Luck," you say as you hang up.
"Mr. Sampson?" Oliver looks up at the waiter. "This arrived for you." Oliver takes the envelope from the waiter, who then retreats into the kitchen.
Oliver reads the note silently to himself. "Perhaps you'd like to get on that cell phone of yours and wish your little girl good-bye? Keep a close eye out Sampson. As soon as she opens that door...Oh my, and is that someone at the end of the block trying to get her attention? She can't hear him. Oh dear. What's a girl to do?"
"Fuck!" Most of the restaurant turns at Oliver's unexpected outburst. He's unflipped his cell phone and started dialing on his way out of the building.
"Yes?"
"Thank god! Listen to me very carefully, do not under any circumstances open your door."
"What?"
"Just do exactly as I say. I'm on my way there now. DON'T MOVE!" It seems almost as if the second you hang up he is standing outside your door. You smile and move to open it. "NO!!!"
You jump back away from the door. "What?!" you mouth at him through the glass.
"Bomb," he mouths back.
You gulp and motion to roll down the window. Oliver considers for a moment, unsure that won't set off the explosive as well. He reluctantly nods his head yes and leans on the outside of the door. If you go he's going with you. You close your eyes and roll the window down a few inches. Nothing happens. You both sigh in relief.
"Don't worry Love, I'll get you out."
"Um Oliver, if the window is safe, I can get out."
Oliver gets that self-reproaching look he wears on the rare occasions he misses something obvious. He offers you his hand. You roll the window down the rest of the way and stick your head out. You hold on to the roof and pull yourself to sit on top of the door. Oliver's arms come around your waist and he lifts you out of the car. As soon as your feet touch down, he embraces you tightly.
The next thing you know, the air is filled with the sound of tires squealing and gunfire. Your first instinct is to drop, but then you remember the bomb. Oliver is one step ahead of you, quite literally, and is half-pulling you down the street. You run a bit faster as you hear the ping of the bullets on the car's metal. Soon, this is followed by a loud explosion. It shatters the windows of the restaurant Oliver had just left and sets off alarms clear down the block. Oliver pushes you around the corner and to the ground as his body moves to cover yours. "Rental cars," you scoff, "gotta love 'em."
You can still hear the car approaching. You and Oliver run down the alley, ducking behind a garbage bin when you hear the car cruise slowly past, looking for you. As soon as it passes, you move down the alley again. "Well the hotel's out now."
"Yes. I suppose we better get the hell out of Dodge?"
"True." Oliver takes out his phone and places a quick call to your employers. "Right," he says to you as he hangs up. "We've got passage on a train out this afternoon. We should uh, hit the shops on the way there. Get a couple days worth of clothes and stuff I suppose."
You walk closer to the train station and happen upon a brand new strip-mall. Like a well-coordinated army unit, you split up. You are going for the clothes. Oliver is going for the toiletries and other necessities. In 20 minutes, you meet up with parcels in hand and head over to the station, just in time to board your train as evening starts to fall.
You settle your private compartment into a resemblance of *home* for the next few days. You head off to the bathroom as Oliver gets undressed and climbs into bed. You change into the delicate cream-colored camisole you bought with the rest of the clothes. When you feel you can keep a straight face, you re-enter the cabin.
Oliver lays on the *bed* with the covers pulled up to his waist, his arms folded behind his head. You call no special attention to yourself, merely folding your clothes, and the ones he has discarded and stowing them away. You can feel his eyes on you. You turn off the light and crawl over him to the far side of the bed. You insert yourself under the covers. "Night," you say and roll over on your side.
"Uh, Darling?"
"Yes?"
"Are you upset with me?"
"No Love, not at all. Night."
"You're just very tired then?"
"No, not particularly. Night."
"Oh. Um. I liked the new uh..."
"You did?"
A hand slides over your abdomen. His breath is warm in your ear. "You look breathtaking."
"The lights are out. You can't see how I look."
He nibbles on your ear. "Are you going to play games with me all night?"
"Ooh that sounds like fun." He rolls you onto your back and leans over you, brushing his hand across your shoulders. "Playing with you all night." He kisses you very slowly.
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| The character of Oliver Sampson and the show VR.5 were created by John Sacret Young and are © Samoset Productions and Rysher Entertainment. No infringement is intended and no profits are being made. |