margueritas in the desert. [in progress]
WHO: John Connor, and Claire Bennet
WHAT: Blood in the streets!!!!
.....
..
Okay, phyne. It's just a good old fashioned shouting match. Boring.
WHERE: Lobby of the apartment building.
WHEN: Afternoon, before Miss Bennet's beach trip.
John had a problem with being cooped up too long. Even when he was on the run and moving from place to place within a day or two, he still got to take a walk around to stretch his legs whenever they stopped for gas, food, or a quick nights sleep in a hotel. Here? With Cameron now? He was being badgered to stay inside, as he still wasn't feeling his best. She constantly told him his heart rate and that he should be resting. Since there was a ton of food thanks to the food venture he'd went on days before she'd gotten there, she'd pointedly pointed out he had no actual need to go anywhere.
So John had sat cooped up in the apartment, getting anstier the longer he was in it. If Cameron functioned or thought like a human being, she probably would have let him go long before now to avoid his behaviour. When John got too angry, every other sentence out of his mouth was loaded with sarcasm, if he even bothered to talk at all. Eventually, John had gotten tired of avoiding her, or snapping at her, and he definately got tired of watching people who were free enough to walk around down below him.
He'd thus made a big deal about how they were almost running out of food [true], and even if she didn't need to eat, he did, so since she seemed to be holding him prisoner, she'd have to go and get it herself. Which she had, and John had waited just long enough to know that Cameron had gotten far enoug away that her enhanced hearing wouldn't pick anything up.
Out of habit now, since she gave it to him, he stuff the gun into the back of his pants and made sure to wear a loser period style shirt that he'd picked up from the store to effectively hide it. Leaving the apartment he'd gotten all the way to the lobby with the hopes of going in the opposite direction of Cameron to get a few hours outside and to himself, before she'd hunt him down.
He quickly saw a kink in his otherwise flawless plan. A little blonde cheerleader was standing right in the doorway leading outside. A frown slid onto his face. Could the situation get any worse?