Old Scores
Title: Old Scores
Fandom: Runaways
Characters: Nico Minoru, a couple of OCs
Prompt: 17. Confused
Word Count: 619
Rating: PG
Summary: Nico's been kidnapped, and it's all Topher's fault.
Author's Note: This little bit was spawned by my unnatural love for Topher, and from my watching waaaay too many old vampire movies.
Nico struggled against the duct tape that bound her hands and feet, glaring death and the visibly nervous man who had knocked her out and tied her up. He shifted a little farther away from her, one hand resting lightly on the gun in his shoulder holster. He didn’t spontaneously combust, despite her wishes, so she focused on the duct tape. If she could loosen the piece on her mouth enough… then bite her lip…
Nico’s escape plans were interrupted when the oldest little old lady she had ever seen marched into the room. She looked Nico over, her eyes flashing faintly golden in the light. Then she turned on the man and said, with a voice that was little more than a rough bark, “I told you I wanted to talk to her, you twat. This,” she pointed a long finger at Nico, “is not helpful.”
“Call me crazy,” the man said, his grip tightening on the gun, “but I don’t think she’d want to talk to you at all.”
Damn straight. Nico thought, watching both the man and the old woman warily. Both were dressed for the Great Outdoors, with thick boots, hard worn jeans, and layers of flannel. The old woman’s clothes looked like they’d been worn far harder than the man’s, and her hair was a wild, iron grey colored mane. And there was something about the way she moved that worried Nico way more than the guy with the gun.
“This isn’t about what she does or doesn’t want,” the old woman snarled. “This is about Topher.”
If Nico hadn’t been taped to the chair, she might have fallen out of it. She attempted to say (well, shout) “Topher!”, but the duct tape made it come out as a muffled grunt.
The old woman smirked at her considerably younger companion. “See? I told you she’d met him. Be useful and get the WD-40.” She turned what was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile on Nico. “Now, boy.”
The man grunted something under his breath, but did as he was ordered. Soon, Nico’s mouth was free, but tasted like oil. Her hands and feet were still tied.
“You see that look, boy? That is the look of someone who knows Topher.”
“Topher’s dead,” Nico spat, trying to get the taste of WD-40 out of her mouth.
“Well, yes,” the old woman said. “Vampires tend to be.”
“No, I mean dead dead. He’s ashes, and those are buried under a couple thousand tons of rocks.”
The man snorted, and the old woman shrugged. “I’ve seen him come back from worse. Got his head cut off and his body dumped in running water till he was mostly dissolved once. All he needs is enough blood, and he’ll reconstitute.”
Nico stared at the old woman, her mouth working silently as she thought about all that dust Topher had left behind. It’d gotten everywhere, no matter how hard they’d cleaned. And all those cops, buried un the hostel when everything collapsed.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“Don’t I wish,” the man muttered.
“Topher’s a clever little bastard. Been hunting him damn near eighty years. I’ve no doubt he’s clawed his way out of his latest grave. Boy, get rid of her. We’re done here.” The old woman stormed out. “I’ve got an old score to settle, and no time to waste.”
Nico bit down on her lower lip to try and draw blood just as the sickly sweet smelling rag covered her nose and mouth, and everything went black.
When she woke up again, the duct tape was gone, and the Leapfrog had just landed outside. Neither the man nor the old woman were anywhere to be found.
Fandom: Runaways
Characters: Nico Minoru, a couple of OCs
Prompt: 17. Confused
Word Count: 619
Rating: PG
Summary: Nico's been kidnapped, and it's all Topher's fault.
Author's Note: This little bit was spawned by my unnatural love for Topher, and from my watching waaaay too many old vampire movies.
Nico struggled against the duct tape that bound her hands and feet, glaring death and the visibly nervous man who had knocked her out and tied her up. He shifted a little farther away from her, one hand resting lightly on the gun in his shoulder holster. He didn’t spontaneously combust, despite her wishes, so she focused on the duct tape. If she could loosen the piece on her mouth enough… then bite her lip…
Nico’s escape plans were interrupted when the oldest little old lady she had ever seen marched into the room. She looked Nico over, her eyes flashing faintly golden in the light. Then she turned on the man and said, with a voice that was little more than a rough bark, “I told you I wanted to talk to her, you twat. This,” she pointed a long finger at Nico, “is not helpful.”
“Call me crazy,” the man said, his grip tightening on the gun, “but I don’t think she’d want to talk to you at all.”
Damn straight. Nico thought, watching both the man and the old woman warily. Both were dressed for the Great Outdoors, with thick boots, hard worn jeans, and layers of flannel. The old woman’s clothes looked like they’d been worn far harder than the man’s, and her hair was a wild, iron grey colored mane. And there was something about the way she moved that worried Nico way more than the guy with the gun.
“This isn’t about what she does or doesn’t want,” the old woman snarled. “This is about Topher.”
If Nico hadn’t been taped to the chair, she might have fallen out of it. She attempted to say (well, shout) “Topher!”, but the duct tape made it come out as a muffled grunt.
The old woman smirked at her considerably younger companion. “See? I told you she’d met him. Be useful and get the WD-40.” She turned what was probably supposed to be a reassuring smile on Nico. “Now, boy.”
The man grunted something under his breath, but did as he was ordered. Soon, Nico’s mouth was free, but tasted like oil. Her hands and feet were still tied.
“You see that look, boy? That is the look of someone who knows Topher.”
“Topher’s dead,” Nico spat, trying to get the taste of WD-40 out of her mouth.
“Well, yes,” the old woman said. “Vampires tend to be.”
“No, I mean dead dead. He’s ashes, and those are buried under a couple thousand tons of rocks.”
The man snorted, and the old woman shrugged. “I’ve seen him come back from worse. Got his head cut off and his body dumped in running water till he was mostly dissolved once. All he needs is enough blood, and he’ll reconstitute.”
Nico stared at the old woman, her mouth working silently as she thought about all that dust Topher had left behind. It’d gotten everywhere, no matter how hard they’d cleaned. And all those cops, buried un the hostel when everything collapsed.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“Don’t I wish,” the man muttered.
“Topher’s a clever little bastard. Been hunting him damn near eighty years. I’ve no doubt he’s clawed his way out of his latest grave. Boy, get rid of her. We’re done here.” The old woman stormed out. “I’ve got an old score to settle, and no time to waste.”
Nico bit down on her lower lip to try and draw blood just as the sickly sweet smelling rag covered her nose and mouth, and everything went black.
When she woke up again, the duct tape was gone, and the Leapfrog had just landed outside. Neither the man nor the old woman were anywhere to be found.