Getting Our Feet Wet

[da_lilah]

Continued from hereWhen it was all over we clung to each other, our ragged breaths finally slowing. Lindsey was grinning like a cheshire cat, and I buried my face in his shoulder rather than try to return a smile that might look forced. I don't know why the hell I was having trouble with this. t's not like I hadn't done this sort of thing before.

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[lindsey_lives]

Shot me! She fucking shot me! I had to say that it hurt quite a bit, and I could already feel my boot filling up with blood. Great idea there, let's wound the guy who is going to do the majority of the fighting. And then she slapped me. Adding insult to injury.

I stood up, feeding off of the pain in my foot. My arm reached out before I even knew what I was doing and wrenched the gun from her fingers. As my hand closed on the butt of the gun, I pointed it at her head. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to get blood out of leather? I liked those fucking boots." Which were now totally ruined. Thanks a whole hell of a lot, Lilah.

Then my leg started to buckle and I began to swear up a storm in every language I knew. Actually impressed myself. Never thought I had that many curse words in my head. Stumbled backwards and ended up on the bed. The gun dropped to the floor, and I didn't bother picking it up again. My foot hurt too much.

Slowly pulled my boot off, and just for a laugh, I poured the blood out of it, making a little puddle on the floor. "Only you would shoot a guy in the foot right before he was going to go into battle. Thanks a heap."

Pulled my sock off and stared at the hole for a second. Then I smiled, lifting my foot up so I could look at her through the hole. "Nice shot. I can see you." I giggled. Probably should wrap it up or something.

[da_lilah]

One minute I'd had the gun, the next Lindsey'd grabbed it forcibly from me and was pointing the muzzle at my head. My heart was racing and I just stood there, trying not to lose it while he snapped at me, gun still pressing into my temple. For a moment I flashed back to that day, when Lindsey had been promoted. I'd known in my gut I'd be the one destined for the cut. And suddenly I felt that helpless again. Unable to do anything but wait for the inevitable. Okay, pulling the gun on him was a obviously a bad idea, and shooting his foot possibly an even worse one. Was he mad enough to pull the trigger?

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to get blood out of leather? I liked those fucking boots."

Luckily, gravity was on my side, and Lindsey lost his footing and staggered backwards onto the bed, dropping the gun.

I let out a breath of relief and watched as he began to inspect the damage.

"Only you would shoot a guy in the foot right before he was going to go into battle. Thanks a heap. Nice shot. I can see you."

He laughed, and it was as if I saw a little bit of the old Lindsey return. I moved to the bathroom and searched for the kit I knew he would have. I brought it back and knelt beside him on the bed.

"Give it here." I muttered, and then proceeded to clean and bind the wound I'd just inflicted on him.

"I only did it because I needed you to stop and think for a minute." I told him, still angry at him for putting me in that position. My hands were still trembling, damn it.

"Oh, and for future reference. If you ever put a gun to my head again. You will live to regret it." I reached up and stroked the side of his face, and pulled him closer for a soft kiss. Why did I feel so sad? So torn up inside? Like I wanted to cry. This wasn't me. I didn't get this sentimental. And yet I felt emotions welling up in me that...I didn't recognize. I cupped his face and deepened the kiss. And there it was, the taste of salt. Salt tears.

I pulled away abruptly, busying myself with re-packing the medical supplies in the kit.

"I guess I'd better go do that sketch of the Brotherhood compound."