Chapter 3, part 2 - 529 words. 4811 total
“I don't know why you don't already, Selene.” The humor had left his face and voice as he stared into her eyes. “The moon wishes she had half your beauty. Perhaps then she wouldn't envy the sun so...”
She stared at him in stunned silence for a moment. The terrible dichotomy of his personality shift left her mind reeling for a moment. “Stan ... I --”
“Sundog, Selene, heads up. Armed robbery in progress at 39th and Madison, Harris bank.”
“On our way TK. Thanks.” Sundog never broke his gaze into her eys as he acknowledged the call. He held her with his hands on her shoulders as he searched her face for a reaction. She nodded slowly and he pulled her close, pressing his lips against hers. She tensed at first, but soon relaxed. “I love you,” he broke the kiss, and started running toward the crime in progress
She followed on his heels, imagining every possible way the armed robbers could wound and maim her unarmed husband. She hoped nothing would happen this time, that everything would turn out okay with no injuries, but she knew it was much more likely someone would be shot, or worse. As they ran, she drew on a reserve of strength and split the surplus energy between them, giving them enough of a boost to push their bodies beyond “normal” capacities, the practical upshot of which is that they could run quickly over moderate distances before becoming winded.
They arrived at the bank just after Chicago's finest. Sundog took a mustache from a pocket inside his jacket, along with the little bottle of spirit gum. He affixed the bushy thing to his lip and after checking with Selene to make sure it was on straight, pulled the dark Aviator glasses from his breast pocket and walked up to the sergeant in charge of the scene. “Whadda we got here, sarn't?” he asked in his subtly commanding voice, wishing he had a piece of gum to complete the image and settling for simply drawing air between his front teeth, as if attempting to dislodge a bit of food.
“Silent alarm was tripped. Looks like three assailants armed with small caliber handguns. They've got a dozen bank patrons along with three tellers and the branch manager. They know we're out here, but haven't made any demands yet.” The Sergeant turned to address the man he was speaking to. “Wait, who are you?”
“Lieutenant Bradford, Regional District 4. My Cap'n sent me ta help ya out. Seems ta think I got a way of negotiatin'. Me an' my assistant,” Sundog motioned to Selene as she stepped forward, “are gonna go in there and see what we can do ta resolve this quick and painless.”
As they walked through the police line and up to the front doors of the bank, their hands in the air to show they were unarmed, Selene spoke through her smile. “That horrible grammar. I almost beat you with a dictionary back there.”
“I know sweetheart. I didn't like it any more than you did, but it got us through, didn't it? After you,” he said, holding the door open for her.
She stared at him in stunned silence for a moment. The terrible dichotomy of his personality shift left her mind reeling for a moment. “Stan ... I --”
“Sundog, Selene, heads up. Armed robbery in progress at 39th and Madison, Harris bank.”
“On our way TK. Thanks.” Sundog never broke his gaze into her eys as he acknowledged the call. He held her with his hands on her shoulders as he searched her face for a reaction. She nodded slowly and he pulled her close, pressing his lips against hers. She tensed at first, but soon relaxed. “I love you,” he broke the kiss, and started running toward the crime in progress
She followed on his heels, imagining every possible way the armed robbers could wound and maim her unarmed husband. She hoped nothing would happen this time, that everything would turn out okay with no injuries, but she knew it was much more likely someone would be shot, or worse. As they ran, she drew on a reserve of strength and split the surplus energy between them, giving them enough of a boost to push their bodies beyond “normal” capacities, the practical upshot of which is that they could run quickly over moderate distances before becoming winded.
They arrived at the bank just after Chicago's finest. Sundog took a mustache from a pocket inside his jacket, along with the little bottle of spirit gum. He affixed the bushy thing to his lip and after checking with Selene to make sure it was on straight, pulled the dark Aviator glasses from his breast pocket and walked up to the sergeant in charge of the scene. “Whadda we got here, sarn't?” he asked in his subtly commanding voice, wishing he had a piece of gum to complete the image and settling for simply drawing air between his front teeth, as if attempting to dislodge a bit of food.
“Silent alarm was tripped. Looks like three assailants armed with small caliber handguns. They've got a dozen bank patrons along with three tellers and the branch manager. They know we're out here, but haven't made any demands yet.” The Sergeant turned to address the man he was speaking to. “Wait, who are you?”
“Lieutenant Bradford, Regional District 4. My Cap'n sent me ta help ya out. Seems ta think I got a way of negotiatin'. Me an' my assistant,” Sundog motioned to Selene as she stepped forward, “are gonna go in there and see what we can do ta resolve this quick and painless.”
As they walked through the police line and up to the front doors of the bank, their hands in the air to show they were unarmed, Selene spoke through her smile. “That horrible grammar. I almost beat you with a dictionary back there.”
“I know sweetheart. I didn't like it any more than you did, but it got us through, didn't it? After you,” he said, holding the door open for her.