Knock Knock fic Chapters 7-8 of 16
So Zombiechick and I wrote an Artie/Claudia opus based off of last season’s Merge With Caution (and a little S1 Claudia) . It’s LONG so here is the second part.
Title: Knock, Knock -Cuff Tales
Authors: Zombiechick and Abbysiuta
Characters: Mainly Artie, Claudia but cameos from the rest of the gang
Rating: M (it gets more M as it goes on)
If you missed the first part here's a link (I know lj has been snotty lately)
xposted to fic_warehouse and artie_claudia
http://warehouse13.livejournal.com/246049.html
Remember, we are comment whores. The more you comment the more we write. :)
Chapter the Seventh
Claudia rushed into the Warehouse office out of breath and panting, “Artie!” she called out.
The older man ran down the spiral staircase quickly. “Claudia?” he asked; the concern in his voice evident.
She was bent over double, her hands on her knees, as she tried to catch her breath, “Motorcycle,” she panted and pointed over her shoulder toward the Warehouse aisles, “escaped,” she swallowed, “again.”
Artie threw up his hands in annoyance, “That’s it; this time I’m not just removing the spark plug. I’m going to disassemble the whole engine and store it on the other side of the Warehouse from the body!” he roared.
When they stepped out onto the observation deck, they could hear a rumbling engine moving rapidly toward them on the floor below. Artie grabbed the large pair of binoculars, and scanned the Warehouse floor. His muttered curse let Claudia know he’d spotted the artifact, “There it is,” he spat, “Steve McQueen’s motorcycle.”
Claudia grabbed the binoculars, and followed Arties’ pointing finger in time to see the motorcycle disappear around the corner of aisle 62C, “It tried to run me down, “ she stated while pointing at a smear of grease on her blue jeans. “Feisty little guy, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Artie murmured as he couched down to examine Claudia’s leg, “You okay?” he asked.
She smiled down at him, “It just brushed passed me,” she assured him. Artie straightened up and scowled in the direction of the engine noise. Claudia kissed him on the cheek. “You’re cute when you’re protective.”
“Don’t use that word, “Artie said distractedly, obviously thinking, “You know I hate to be called ‘cute.”
“Right,” Claudia said straightening up, “I forgot. What word should I use then? Dashing? Or maybe heroic, or gallant?”
“Smartass,” Artie grinned slightly.
“I wouldn’t really consider that to be an appropriate synonym, Roget,” Claudia said thoughtfully as she followed Artie into the office.
Artie stood with his back to Claudia, but, when she approached, he suddenly whirled around and she saw that he had a small handheld “Stop” sign. She immediately froze in her tracks, mouth slightly open as though preparing to comment.
‘This must be what it feels like to be bronzed,’ Claudia thought. She could still feel the strain of her muscles as she fought against the artifact’s hold on her. She could swear that she felt her vocal chords trembling as though they held on to the beginnings of her stalled comment.
Artie circled around Claudia, and smirked devilishly, “Good thing I’m a gentleman,” he said as he slid one hand around her waist. “Funny,” Artie observed as he wrapped one arm around Claudia from behind and raised the stop sign in front of her face, “I can actually feel you glaring at me despite the fact that you can’t move.” He chuckled, and then flipped the sign around so that it read “Go.”
Claudia was immediately released from her paralysis. She slumped into Artie’s embrace, but quickly whirled around and thumped him petulantly on the chest, “Jerk,” she stated simply.
Artie grinned, and held up the “Stop” sign with the face pointed down, “It was used by a traffic cop after the JFK assassination,” he explained. “Apparently, the paralyzing effects of that traumatic experience imbued it with an actual ‘stopping’ ability.”
Claudia took the sign from him, and turned to go back into the Warehouse, “Another artifact that I’m glad is safe and secure.”
WH13WH13WH13WH13WH13WH13
“I can hear it,” Claudia whispered.
“You don’t have to whisper.”
“What?” Claudia said a little louder this time.
“I’m pretty sure that it doesn’t have the ability to hear,” Artie explained.
“Oh, uh, yeah right,” Claudia said sheepishly. “Have you got a good hold on my belt?” she asked worriedly as the engine noises grew louder and started toward them.
Artie gave Claudia’s belt an experimental tug, “Don’t worry, if the ‘Stop’ sign doesn’t work for some reason, I’ll pull you out of the way.”
“That thing is hungry for some Claudia,” she reminded him.
“So we know it has a sense of taste then,” Artie murmured in her ear.
Artie could hear the blush in her voice when Claudia responded with a, “Jeeeeez.”
“Here it comes,” he warned her as the motorcycle suddenly whipped ‘round a corner and came into view.
Claudia held up the sign as she stepped into a stance, “Stop!” she shouted authoritatively. Her jaw dropped to the floor with shock when the motorcycle did just that.
“Nice job,” Artie said as he walked toward the bike and crouched down to eyeball the engine.
“Don’t you think you should turn the key off before touching any, you know,” Claudia waved her hand at the motorcycle, “moving parts?”
“Oh, right,” Artie agreed as he reached up to the ignition. He gave a strange combination of a gasp, a groan, and a growl of frustration when he heard the click that signaled Claudia’s victory for this round.
He looked under his upraised arm so that he could watch the erratic sort of head banging shimmy that Claudia was taking part in. She ended with a quick turn in place and a dramatic disco point to the sky, “I am the greatest!” she crowed.
“Was that a stroke I just witnessed?” he asked her solemnly.
“Ha ha,” Claudia sneered. “So what’s your plan of escape?” she asked innocently.
Artie guffawed, “You’re kidding me, right?” He looked around and counted under his breath, “Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, no, no, forty-one…”
“Ooorrrr,” Claudia reasoned, “you could just hop on the bike and drive it back to the office; the keys to my cuffs are sitting on the desk by your computer.”
“Well,” Artie squinted suspiciously, “isn’t that convenient?” He stood up and threw his right leg over the motorcycle. Gunning the engine slightly, he nodded his head, “Hop on.”
Claudia squealed with glee, and quickly seated herself behind Artie. Wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, she leaned into him and rested her chin on his shoulder, “You’re too good to me, Artie,” she stated.
“Believe me,” he answered her as he grinned, “I know,” and, with that, he let out the clutch and they sped down the aisle. Claudia’s whoop of joy echoed into all corners of the Warehouse.
WH13WH13WH13WH13WH13WH13WH13
Artie came to a screeching halt at the stairs that led up to his office. He looked over his shoulder at an extremely flushed Claudia, “So, go grab the keys.” He smirked, “I’ll wait here.”
Claudia laughed, panting into Artie’s ear, “That’s all I get?” she asked.
Artie turned slightly so he could see her, “You got your ride.”
“Not entirely,” she grinned.
Artie looked down at the rather small motorcycle, “It’s not physically possible. I mean the Jaguar is tricky, this would be…,” he guffawed.
“A challenge,” Claudia finished for him as she removed her jeans and panties and moved onto the seat in front of Artie; sitting backwards to straddle him.
Artie quickly lifted Claudia’s t-shirt up over her head and dropped it to the floor, “If I pull my back or,” he looked down at the concrete floor, “fall off this thing and break something…”
“I’ll fill out the accident report,” she said as she opened up Artie’s belt and slid her hand under the waistband of his trousers.
“Where, uh, what happened to your socks and shoes?” he asked.
Claudia raised one disbelieving eyebrow as she slid into his lap, “Does it matter?”
He opened the front clasp of her bra and sighed happily, “No.”
Claudia hissed as the bare skin of her thighs touched the tank of the bike, “Still runnin’ a little hot,” she observed.
Artie caught her mouth in a soft kiss as he slid his hands under her thighs and lifted her fully into his lap. They both moaned with approval as Artie smoothly slid into her heated core, “Are we, uh, talking about the bike or you?”
Claudia wrapped her arms around Artie’s neck and threaded her fingers through his curls, “Love it when you talk dirty, Artie; it’s so cute.”
Despite the current situation, Artie managed to glare.
The 8th Installment
“Is every game that I played as a child secretly evil?” Claudia asked Artie as they walked down aisle 52-A, which Claudia had dubbed “the things that I used to find fun aisle.”
“What do you mean?” Artie responded as he put a game of Chutes and Ladders on a shelf next to a box containing Connect Four.
“OK, I know that my childhood was more recent than yours,” Claudia noted, which earned her a silent eye roll from Artie. She pointed at multiple artifacts and explained, “Seriously though, Clue, Sorry, Mouse Trap, Operation; they all have a malicious version in this aisle. I don’t have a boatload of happy childhood memories, but, now the ones that I do have, are all tainted.”
“All the more reason to stick to chess,” Artie reasoned as he clicked the status screen on, and reached down into the shopping cart that he was pushing for a box of classic Uno cards. “Those games can get really nasty.”
“Next thing you know, I’ll find out that Twister will leave me bent out of shape forever,” Claudia grumbled.
“It’s down three items and up one row,” Artie chuckled. He turned and saw Claudia’s disenchanted face staring mournfully down the aisle. “You can practice some Twister moves with me later if you’d like,” he suggested as he came up behind her and hugged her to his chest, one hand tracing the curves down to her hip.
Claudia pressed her body back against Artie’s and teased, “Appreciating my flexibility after our motorcycle tryst, are you?”
Artie chuckled, and ran his fingertips just under the top of Claudia’s jeans, which made goose bumps rise on her arms and small moan escape from deep in her chest. “We’re lucky that nobody else was around that day,” he cautioned as he nibbled her neck. “We should really try some of your more creative ideas in a less public space.”
“Mmm hmmm…” Claudia murmured, totally not paying attention to Artie’s words but, instead, to his wandering hands and lips. She let out a small, unhappy sound when, a few moments later, he pulled away from her and turned back to the cart.
“Artie…” she complained as she tried to wind herself around him again.
Artie gently turned Claudia to face the shelf, and placed a box of Pick Up Sticks in her hands. “The faster that we work, the faster that we can go home and play,” he rationalized.
“Fine,” Claudia grumped. “Where do these beauties go?”
Artie pointed to an open space that was about six inches above Claudia’s head. “Don’t drop them because, trust me, you don’t want to try and pick them up.” He saw Claudia’s brow furrow as she looked at the shelf. “I don’t need to get you the ladder for that, do I?” he teased.
Claudia shot him a glare over her shoulder, and then stood on her tiptoes and stretched to place the box on the high shelf. “No, I am capable of…” she broke off abruptly as she felt Artie reach up from behind her and close the cuffs on both her wrists, trapping her around the shelf support.
“Gotta keep you on your toes,” Artie chuckled as a scream of aggravation roared out of Claudia.
Claudia tried to turn around and glower at him, but she was stuck facing the shelf, stretched out fully from the tips of her fingers to the tips of her toes. “Artie I can’t reach a damn thing like this and I’m losing circulation in my hands!” she protested, her frustration obvious, as she squirmed, trying to get a better footing.
“I count thirteen ways that you can escape, without having to use your hands or your feet,” Artie mentioned as he came up behind Claudia and lightly bit her earlobe. “The faster that you get home…” he whispered and then grabbed the cart and started walking back to the office. He could hear Claudia’s cursing the entire way.
WH13 WH13 WH13 WH13 WH13 WH13 WH13 WH13 WH13 WH13 WH13 WH13
Three hours later, a grumpy, and sore, Claudia stormed into Artie’s room at the B&B. He was sitting up in bed reading, and he smiled at her wrathful visage. She threw a small piece of yellow plastic at him and hissed, “I hope that you’re pleased with your cleverness, because that was a dirty trick.”
“The Cooite antennae; I didn’t even think of that one,” Artie said with a note of amazement in his voice.
“Yeah well, I guess that we can add creative and resourceful to my list of traits then, can’t we?” she retorted, still seething.
A worried look crossed Artie’s face as he realized that Claudia was truly angry at him. “Hey,” he said in a soft voice, patting the bed beside him, “come here, Claudia.”
She shot him a wary look, hands on her hips. “You are not getting me twice in one day.”
Artie raised his hands in a gesture of innocence, and mentioned, “You’re holding my cuffs.”
“Like you couldn’t have more than one pair,” Claudia shot back, but she placed the cuffs on his dresser and sat down on the bed beside him.
“You can search me if you’d like,” Artie said in mock seriousness, unable to keep the smile out of his eyes.
That look finally broke Claudia a little, and she scooted closer to him and leaned her head onto Artie’s shoulder. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” she said, her voice warming.
“I’m assuming that’s a rhetorical question,” Artie commented as he noticed the red abrasions that circled Claudia’s wrists. “Oh, Claudia,” he murmured as he picked up her closest hand and kissed the vivid red mark on the underside of her wrist, “what exactly did you do to free yourself?”
“If you think that my wrists look bad, you should see my inner thighs,” she responded in a tired voice. She winced a little as she shifted her legs, and Artie saw that she had jagged rips up the inner seams of her jeans.
Artie chuckled, and gently laid Claudia down on the bed, as he positioned his head above her hips. “Gladly,” he growled.
Title: Knock, Knock -Cuff Tales
Authors: Zombiechick and Abbysiuta
Characters: Mainly Artie, Claudia but cameos from the rest of the gang
Rating: M (it gets more M as it goes on)
If you missed the first part here's a link (I know lj has been snotty lately)
xposted to fic_warehouse and artie_claudia
http://warehouse13.livejournal.com/246049.html
Remember, we are comment whores. The more you comment the more we write. :)
Chapter the Seventh
Claudia rushed into the Warehouse office out of breath and panting, “Artie!” she called out.
The older man ran down the spiral staircase quickly. “Claudia?” he asked; the concern in his voice evident.
She was bent over double, her hands on her knees, as she tried to catch her breath, “Motorcycle,” she panted and pointed over her shoulder toward the Warehouse aisles, “escaped,” she swallowed, “again.”
Artie threw up his hands in annoyance, “That’s it; this time I’m not just removing the spark plug. I’m going to disassemble the whole engine and store it on the other side of the Warehouse from the body!” he roared.
When they stepped out onto the observation deck, they could hear a rumbling engine moving rapidly toward them on the floor below. Artie grabbed the large pair of binoculars, and scanned the Warehouse floor. His muttered curse let Claudia know he’d spotted the artifact, “There it is,” he spat, “Steve McQueen’s motorcycle.”
Claudia grabbed the binoculars, and followed Arties’ pointing finger in time to see the motorcycle disappear around the corner of aisle 62C, “It tried to run me down, “ she stated while pointing at a smear of grease on her blue jeans. “Feisty little guy, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Artie murmured as he couched down to examine Claudia’s leg, “You okay?” he asked.
She smiled down at him, “It just brushed passed me,” she assured him. Artie straightened up and scowled in the direction of the engine noise. Claudia kissed him on the cheek. “You’re cute when you’re protective.”
“Don’t use that word, “Artie said distractedly, obviously thinking, “You know I hate to be called ‘cute.”
“Right,” Claudia said straightening up, “I forgot. What word should I use then? Dashing? Or maybe heroic, or gallant?”
“Smartass,” Artie grinned slightly.
“I wouldn’t really consider that to be an appropriate synonym, Roget,” Claudia said thoughtfully as she followed Artie into the office.
Artie stood with his back to Claudia, but, when she approached, he suddenly whirled around and she saw that he had a small handheld “Stop” sign. She immediately froze in her tracks, mouth slightly open as though preparing to comment.
‘This must be what it feels like to be bronzed,’ Claudia thought. She could still feel the strain of her muscles as she fought against the artifact’s hold on her. She could swear that she felt her vocal chords trembling as though they held on to the beginnings of her stalled comment.
Artie circled around Claudia, and smirked devilishly, “Good thing I’m a gentleman,” he said as he slid one hand around her waist. “Funny,” Artie observed as he wrapped one arm around Claudia from behind and raised the stop sign in front of her face, “I can actually feel you glaring at me despite the fact that you can’t move.” He chuckled, and then flipped the sign around so that it read “Go.”
Claudia was immediately released from her paralysis. She slumped into Artie’s embrace, but quickly whirled around and thumped him petulantly on the chest, “Jerk,” she stated simply.
Artie grinned, and held up the “Stop” sign with the face pointed down, “It was used by a traffic cop after the JFK assassination,” he explained. “Apparently, the paralyzing effects of that traumatic experience imbued it with an actual ‘stopping’ ability.”
Claudia took the sign from him, and turned to go back into the Warehouse, “Another artifact that I’m glad is safe and secure.”
WH13WH13WH13WH13WH13WH13
“I can hear it,” Claudia whispered.
“You don’t have to whisper.”
“What?” Claudia said a little louder this time.
“I’m pretty sure that it doesn’t have the ability to hear,” Artie explained.
“Oh, uh, yeah right,” Claudia said sheepishly. “Have you got a good hold on my belt?” she asked worriedly as the engine noises grew louder and started toward them.
Artie gave Claudia’s belt an experimental tug, “Don’t worry, if the ‘Stop’ sign doesn’t work for some reason, I’ll pull you out of the way.”
“That thing is hungry for some Claudia,” she reminded him.
“So we know it has a sense of taste then,” Artie murmured in her ear.
Artie could hear the blush in her voice when Claudia responded with a, “Jeeeeez.”
“Here it comes,” he warned her as the motorcycle suddenly whipped ‘round a corner and came into view.
Claudia held up the sign as she stepped into a stance, “Stop!” she shouted authoritatively. Her jaw dropped to the floor with shock when the motorcycle did just that.
“Nice job,” Artie said as he walked toward the bike and crouched down to eyeball the engine.
“Don’t you think you should turn the key off before touching any, you know,” Claudia waved her hand at the motorcycle, “moving parts?”
“Oh, right,” Artie agreed as he reached up to the ignition. He gave a strange combination of a gasp, a groan, and a growl of frustration when he heard the click that signaled Claudia’s victory for this round.
He looked under his upraised arm so that he could watch the erratic sort of head banging shimmy that Claudia was taking part in. She ended with a quick turn in place and a dramatic disco point to the sky, “I am the greatest!” she crowed.
“Was that a stroke I just witnessed?” he asked her solemnly.
“Ha ha,” Claudia sneered. “So what’s your plan of escape?” she asked innocently.
Artie guffawed, “You’re kidding me, right?” He looked around and counted under his breath, “Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, no, no, forty-one…”
“Ooorrrr,” Claudia reasoned, “you could just hop on the bike and drive it back to the office; the keys to my cuffs are sitting on the desk by your computer.”
“Well,” Artie squinted suspiciously, “isn’t that convenient?” He stood up and threw his right leg over the motorcycle. Gunning the engine slightly, he nodded his head, “Hop on.”
Claudia squealed with glee, and quickly seated herself behind Artie. Wrapping her arms tightly around his waist, she leaned into him and rested her chin on his shoulder, “You’re too good to me, Artie,” she stated.
“Believe me,” he answered her as he grinned, “I know,” and, with that, he let out the clutch and they sped down the aisle. Claudia’s whoop of joy echoed into all corners of the Warehouse.
WH13WH13WH13WH13WH13WH13WH13
Artie came to a screeching halt at the stairs that led up to his office. He looked over his shoulder at an extremely flushed Claudia, “So, go grab the keys.” He smirked, “I’ll wait here.”
Claudia laughed, panting into Artie’s ear, “That’s all I get?” she asked.
Artie turned slightly so he could see her, “You got your ride.”
“Not entirely,” she grinned.
Artie looked down at the rather small motorcycle, “It’s not physically possible. I mean the Jaguar is tricky, this would be…,” he guffawed.
“A challenge,” Claudia finished for him as she removed her jeans and panties and moved onto the seat in front of Artie; sitting backwards to straddle him.
Artie quickly lifted Claudia’s t-shirt up over her head and dropped it to the floor, “If I pull my back or,” he looked down at the concrete floor, “fall off this thing and break something…”
“I’ll fill out the accident report,” she said as she opened up Artie’s belt and slid her hand under the waistband of his trousers.
“Where, uh, what happened to your socks and shoes?” he asked.
Claudia raised one disbelieving eyebrow as she slid into his lap, “Does it matter?”
He opened the front clasp of her bra and sighed happily, “No.”
Claudia hissed as the bare skin of her thighs touched the tank of the bike, “Still runnin’ a little hot,” she observed.
Artie caught her mouth in a soft kiss as he slid his hands under her thighs and lifted her fully into his lap. They both moaned with approval as Artie smoothly slid into her heated core, “Are we, uh, talking about the bike or you?”
Claudia wrapped her arms around Artie’s neck and threaded her fingers through his curls, “Love it when you talk dirty, Artie; it’s so cute.”
Despite the current situation, Artie managed to glare.
The 8th Installment
“Is every game that I played as a child secretly evil?” Claudia asked Artie as they walked down aisle 52-A, which Claudia had dubbed “the things that I used to find fun aisle.”
“What do you mean?” Artie responded as he put a game of Chutes and Ladders on a shelf next to a box containing Connect Four.
“OK, I know that my childhood was more recent than yours,” Claudia noted, which earned her a silent eye roll from Artie. She pointed at multiple artifacts and explained, “Seriously though, Clue, Sorry, Mouse Trap, Operation; they all have a malicious version in this aisle. I don’t have a boatload of happy childhood memories, but, now the ones that I do have, are all tainted.”
“All the more reason to stick to chess,” Artie reasoned as he clicked the status screen on, and reached down into the shopping cart that he was pushing for a box of classic Uno cards. “Those games can get really nasty.”
“Next thing you know, I’ll find out that Twister will leave me bent out of shape forever,” Claudia grumbled.
“It’s down three items and up one row,” Artie chuckled. He turned and saw Claudia’s disenchanted face staring mournfully down the aisle. “You can practice some Twister moves with me later if you’d like,” he suggested as he came up behind her and hugged her to his chest, one hand tracing the curves down to her hip.
Claudia pressed her body back against Artie’s and teased, “Appreciating my flexibility after our motorcycle tryst, are you?”
Artie chuckled, and ran his fingertips just under the top of Claudia’s jeans, which made goose bumps rise on her arms and small moan escape from deep in her chest. “We’re lucky that nobody else was around that day,” he cautioned as he nibbled her neck. “We should really try some of your more creative ideas in a less public space.”
“Mmm hmmm…” Claudia murmured, totally not paying attention to Artie’s words but, instead, to his wandering hands and lips. She let out a small, unhappy sound when, a few moments later, he pulled away from her and turned back to the cart.
“Artie…” she complained as she tried to wind herself around him again.
Artie gently turned Claudia to face the shelf, and placed a box of Pick Up Sticks in her hands. “The faster that we work, the faster that we can go home and play,” he rationalized.
“Fine,” Claudia grumped. “Where do these beauties go?”
Artie pointed to an open space that was about six inches above Claudia’s head. “Don’t drop them because, trust me, you don’t want to try and pick them up.” He saw Claudia’s brow furrow as she looked at the shelf. “I don’t need to get you the ladder for that, do I?” he teased.
Claudia shot him a glare over her shoulder, and then stood on her tiptoes and stretched to place the box on the high shelf. “No, I am capable of…” she broke off abruptly as she felt Artie reach up from behind her and close the cuffs on both her wrists, trapping her around the shelf support.
“Gotta keep you on your toes,” Artie chuckled as a scream of aggravation roared out of Claudia.
Claudia tried to turn around and glower at him, but she was stuck facing the shelf, stretched out fully from the tips of her fingers to the tips of her toes. “Artie I can’t reach a damn thing like this and I’m losing circulation in my hands!” she protested, her frustration obvious, as she squirmed, trying to get a better footing.
“I count thirteen ways that you can escape, without having to use your hands or your feet,” Artie mentioned as he came up behind Claudia and lightly bit her earlobe. “The faster that you get home…” he whispered and then grabbed the cart and started walking back to the office. He could hear Claudia’s cursing the entire way.
WH13 WH13 WH13 WH13 WH13 WH13 WH13 WH13 WH13 WH13 WH13 WH13
Three hours later, a grumpy, and sore, Claudia stormed into Artie’s room at the B&B. He was sitting up in bed reading, and he smiled at her wrathful visage. She threw a small piece of yellow plastic at him and hissed, “I hope that you’re pleased with your cleverness, because that was a dirty trick.”
“The Cooite antennae; I didn’t even think of that one,” Artie said with a note of amazement in his voice.
“Yeah well, I guess that we can add creative and resourceful to my list of traits then, can’t we?” she retorted, still seething.
A worried look crossed Artie’s face as he realized that Claudia was truly angry at him. “Hey,” he said in a soft voice, patting the bed beside him, “come here, Claudia.”
She shot him a wary look, hands on her hips. “You are not getting me twice in one day.”
Artie raised his hands in a gesture of innocence, and mentioned, “You’re holding my cuffs.”
“Like you couldn’t have more than one pair,” Claudia shot back, but she placed the cuffs on his dresser and sat down on the bed beside him.
“You can search me if you’d like,” Artie said in mock seriousness, unable to keep the smile out of his eyes.
That look finally broke Claudia a little, and she scooted closer to him and leaned her head onto Artie’s shoulder. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” she said, her voice warming.
“I’m assuming that’s a rhetorical question,” Artie commented as he noticed the red abrasions that circled Claudia’s wrists. “Oh, Claudia,” he murmured as he picked up her closest hand and kissed the vivid red mark on the underside of her wrist, “what exactly did you do to free yourself?”
“If you think that my wrists look bad, you should see my inner thighs,” she responded in a tired voice. She winced a little as she shifted her legs, and Artie saw that she had jagged rips up the inner seams of her jeans.
Artie chuckled, and gently laid Claudia down on the bed, as he positioned his head above her hips. “Gladly,” he growled.