Bad things happen when people get high. I think that's part of why I never had any interest in drugs. Too many friends told me horror stories of waking up and not remembering what the hell had happened to them the night before
( ... )
"The only thing that made me sick was remembering how quick you were to return my affections. Really, Sam. I was drugged."
One kiss. One to her, what, five? How does that really do anything? I kissed her to make her believe that I was going to come back. That's all there is to it.
"Why don't you tell me what your excuse is?"
"I worked the situation so I could get out of there alive." I said simply, sitting down comfortably. "If you don't remember, you were a little grabby. I thought that part of you dead. It was a nice change." Especially since I brought it out of her. Gas aside, that was a little nice, even if it was brought on by her being stoned.
"So how's life treating you lately?" A little conversation, it's nice.
"Mr. Howell, could I get you and your wi--""Champange to start would be great, thank you Marc." I looked over at the waiter as he came up. I've been here a few times, and they think I'm a married millionaire because I came here posing as one with a mark
( ... )
"I worked the situation so I could get out of there alive."
"Yeah, you worked it with your tongue."
I remember a lot of kissing, now that I'm letting myself think about it and not trying to discount the whole thing as a hallucination the way I was hoping to. In my state of mind, I made a few pushy moves, kissed him a couple times, suggested a few things. But he did it all back. All of it.
Which would be flattering if I didn't want to kill him so much for it. For other things too. The other things just aren't an issue at the moment, and the kissing is.
Working the situation. He was working a hell of a lot more than the situation.
"If you don't remember, you were a little grabby. I thought that part of you dead. It was a nice change.""If it was dead, you're the one who killed it baby
( ... )
And it actually handles most of what I wanted to talk about here. Which is good. But since I'm stuck with not too much time left to finish this, from what I'm hearing, it'd be a really good idea to start looking for some open shots, despite the witnesses.
"So what're we going to do, Car?" I asked finally after I'd let the silence go enough while I watched the dancers on the floor. "I mean, we've got a problem here. You definitely want me dead, and I'm getting less and less concerned about what happens to you."
I looked away from the dancers, looking back to her. "I mean, do we just handle it right here? Shoot it out, see who wins? What?"
That smirk. Why didn't I see more of that smirk before? Was she so into the whole keeping up the act thing that she couldn't have given me a little more of that?
All I ask for is a little extra, y'know? I dealt with the rest of it for three four years, a little bit every once in a while would have been great.
"I thought...I thought that you looked like Christmas morning."
I hate him. I have to keep remembering that. I hate him and he's the enemy. He tried to kill me. And he's still trying. He's not going to stop until I'm dead unless I find a way to do it first. I have to kill Sam before he can kill me.
He doesn't mean what he's saying. It's an act. He wants to beat me to the house so that he can gain the advantage and shoot at me when I come up instead of the other way around. And everything he is saying is so that he can be sure that it'll go his way.
Sam is trying to mind screw me. I can't let it work.
"You?"
"I thought..." I sighed, realizing I couldn't say what I felt, or admit that it was pretty damn close to that whole 'christmas morning' thing he was talking about. If I said that, I would have been putting a nail in my own coffin.
"I thought I'd finally get to pay you back for leaving me. You were the prettiest mark I'd ever seen."
"I thought... I thought I'd finally get to pay you back for leaving me. You were the prettiest mark I'd ever seen."
Yeah, it's good to see I can count on your help, Car.
"Thank you very much, that was exactly what I needed." I said calmly, trying not to betray anything else in my voice. I knew that had to be it, I should have lied. God damn it. "I'll see you at the house."
I hung up, dropping my phone in the passenger seat, and sighed as I swerved around another corner, trying to hold onto that I need to hate her to do this. What she said doesn't bother me, it really can't.
Not if I'm going to walk away from this whole thing alive, it can't.
Almost there. You're going to have to get this done Howell, whether you like it or not. She's not the girl from high school anymore. She's not the girl in Rio. The girl in Rio? That was a joke. A nice cover to eventually use to end you, and you just found out about it before she could. She's not your wife. She doesn't love you.
"Thank you very much, that was exactly what I needed."
Was it? Because it was the last thing I wanted to say. I wanted to tell him the truth, for the first and last time, and then fight the battle from there, honestly. I'm sick of all the lying. I always thought that if I ever told Sam the truth, it would all just stop. It never crossed my mind that he'd be an assassin like me, and that this whole mess would happen. I trusted him more than I trusted myself.
I didn't trust myself, at all. I still don't. Not when what I say and what I feel are completely opposites. What kind of person am I?
A killer, that's all.
"I'll see you at the house."I disconnected and dropped my phone onto the passenger seat, trying not to think about it. I've blocked out enough information in the past, there's no reason why I can't do it now. I really have to now. Whether Sam meant what he said or not, one of us has to die
( ... )
My heart is pounding and I'm a little breathless. My body aches so much I stopped noticing the pain, but I don't think I've ever felt as good as I do right now. I honestly don't think there's anything better. And the fact that violence can be used as foreplay with Sam makes me happy. We're not going to be bored if we keep this up.
Not everI smiled, touching my hand to his cheek, not really worrying about the two cuts I put there, and looked in his eyes. Yeah, they're looking less psychotic now that we've stopped trying to kill each other. He kept getting this crazy look before. One of those looks I'd normally give a "Sam Howell, stop looking at me in that tone of voice" comments to, but we weren't exactly in a 'normal' situation. We're still not. I highly doubt we ever will be
( ... )
I smiled when I felt her hand, and looked right back at her. The psycho Rambo look was hot, but I like this too. She looks good this way. Like she loves me, and she's not going to kill me. I can get really used to that.
"Hiya back."
It still sort of hurts to move, so it's probably not a good idea right now. But I feel like it, so I'm going to try. I kissed Carly, and got up, stretching a little to work some of the pain out. Then I looked over at the fridge, grinned a little at all the bullet holes, and headed over to get something to drink.
Getting two glasses that were a little broken but not impossible to drink out of, I put them down, pouring orange juice for the both of us, and then offering her a hand up.
Definitely a new routine. With a lot of room to mix things up. That? I don't mind.
How is he moving? God, I'm lucky he gave up. Anyone with that kind of physical strength probably could have done me in. I don't think there's any part of my body that would be content with even an inch of movement right now. I'll get up with Sam because I probably should, but after that we're going to take things easy.
I grabbed his shirt and put it on, buttoning it while I tried not to laugh at the bloodstains on the sleeves. I did that. That was all me. We're getting along fine now, but a few hours ago, well, we weren't.
I smiled and took Sam's hand, following him over to the refrigerator to take out some fresh fruit for breakfast. I was about to offer to try to put something together without the use of the oven, when the doorbell rang.
"Can you get that?" I looked over to him. "You have more clothing on than I do."
"Can you get that? You have more clothing on than I do."
"Hm?" I glanced over at the door, and shrugged, nodding. "Yeah, sure." I smiled and kissed her, putting on the undershirt since I'd like to answer the door in something other than boxers, and heading over to it.
I opened up the door, and leaned on it. Oh look, it's Greg and Miranda. The Colemans. Isn't that special.
They need to come back later.
I put on a friendly smile, even though I wanted to shoot them for bothering us, and looked over at the cop they had behind them. "Greg. Miranda. Something wrong?"
"We heard some noise, we wanted to see if you were alright."
"Well we're just fine. Carly and I were just..." I lifted my arm up so she could get under it when I felt Carly behind me, and gave the Colemans a good view by accident of the torn up hallway.
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One kiss. One to her, what, five? How does that really do anything? I kissed her to make her believe that I was going to come back. That's all there is to it.
"Why don't you tell me what your excuse is?"
"I worked the situation so I could get out of there alive." I said simply, sitting down comfortably. "If you don't remember, you were a little grabby. I thought that part of you dead. It was a nice change." Especially since I brought it out of her. Gas aside, that was a little nice, even if it was brought on by her being stoned.
"So how's life treating you lately?" A little conversation, it's nice.
"Mr. Howell, could I get you and your wi--""Champange to start would be great, thank you Marc." I looked over at the waiter as he came up. I've been here a few times, and they think I'm a married millionaire because I came here posing as one with a mark ( ... )
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"Yeah, you worked it with your tongue."
I remember a lot of kissing, now that I'm letting myself think about it and not trying to discount the whole thing as a hallucination the way I was hoping to. In my state of mind, I made a few pushy moves, kissed him a couple times, suggested a few things. But he did it all back. All of it.
Which would be flattering if I didn't want to kill him so much for it. For other things too. The other things just aren't an issue at the moment, and the kissing is.
Working the situation. He was working a hell of a lot more than the situation.
"If you don't remember, you were a little grabby. I thought that part of you dead. It was a nice change.""If it was dead, you're the one who killed it baby ( ... )
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"Sounds like a great idea."
And it actually handles most of what I wanted to talk about here. Which is good. But since I'm stuck with not too much time left to finish this, from what I'm hearing, it'd be a really good idea to start looking for some open shots, despite the witnesses.
"So what're we going to do, Car?" I asked finally after I'd let the silence go enough while I watched the dancers on the floor. "I mean, we've got a problem here. You definitely want me dead, and I'm getting less and less concerned about what happens to you."
I looked away from the dancers, looking back to her. "I mean, do we just handle it right here? Shoot it out, see who wins? What?"
That smirk. Why didn't I see more of that smirk before? Was she so into the whole keeping up the act thing that she couldn't have given me a little more of that?
All I ask for is a little extra, y'know? I dealt with the rest of it for three four years, a little bit every once in a while would have been great.
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I hate him. I have to keep remembering that. I hate him and he's the enemy. He tried to kill me. And he's still trying. He's not going to stop until I'm dead unless I find a way to do it first. I have to kill Sam before he can kill me.
He doesn't mean what he's saying. It's an act. He wants to beat me to the house so that he can gain the advantage and shoot at me when I come up instead of the other way around. And everything he is saying is so that he can be sure that it'll go his way.
Sam is trying to mind screw me. I can't let it work.
"You?"
"I thought..." I sighed, realizing I couldn't say what I felt, or admit that it was pretty damn close to that whole 'christmas morning' thing he was talking about. If I said that, I would have been putting a nail in my own coffin.
"I thought I'd finally get to pay you back for leaving me. You were the prettiest mark I'd ever seen."
I hate my life.
I slammed my head back against the seat.
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Yeah, it's good to see I can count on your help, Car.
"Thank you very much, that was exactly what I needed." I said calmly, trying not to betray anything else in my voice. I knew that had to be it, I should have lied. God damn it. "I'll see you at the house."
I hung up, dropping my phone in the passenger seat, and sighed as I swerved around another corner, trying to hold onto that I need to hate her to do this. What she said doesn't bother me, it really can't.
Not if I'm going to walk away from this whole thing alive, it can't.
Almost there. You're going to have to get this done Howell, whether you like it or not. She's not the girl from high school anymore. She's not the girl in Rio. The girl in Rio? That was a joke. A nice cover to eventually use to end you, and you just found out about it before she could. She's not your wife. She doesn't love you.
And you don't love her.
Remember that.
You don't love her.
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Was it? Because it was the last thing I wanted to say. I wanted to tell him the truth, for the first and last time, and then fight the battle from there, honestly. I'm sick of all the lying. I always thought that if I ever told Sam the truth, it would all just stop. It never crossed my mind that he'd be an assassin like me, and that this whole mess would happen. I trusted him more than I trusted myself.
I didn't trust myself, at all. I still don't. Not when what I say and what I feel are completely opposites. What kind of person am I?
A killer, that's all.
"I'll see you at the house."I disconnected and dropped my phone onto the passenger seat, trying not to think about it. I've blocked out enough information in the past, there's no reason why I can't do it now. I really have to now. Whether Sam meant what he said or not, one of us has to die ( ... )
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My heart is pounding and I'm a little breathless. My body aches so much I stopped noticing the pain, but I don't think I've ever felt as good as I do right now. I honestly don't think there's anything better. And the fact that violence can be used as foreplay with Sam makes me happy. We're not going to be bored if we keep this up.
Not everI smiled, touching my hand to his cheek, not really worrying about the two cuts I put there, and looked in his eyes. Yeah, they're looking less psychotic now that we've stopped trying to kill each other. He kept getting this crazy look before. One of those looks I'd normally give a "Sam Howell, stop looking at me in that tone of voice" comments to, but we weren't exactly in a 'normal' situation. We're still not. I highly doubt we ever will be ( ... )
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I smiled when I felt her hand, and looked right back at her. The psycho Rambo look was hot, but I like this too. She looks good this way. Like she loves me, and she's not going to kill me. I can get really used to that.
"Hiya back."
It still sort of hurts to move, so it's probably not a good idea right now. But I feel like it, so I'm going to try. I kissed Carly, and got up, stretching a little to work some of the pain out. Then I looked over at the fridge, grinned a little at all the bullet holes, and headed over to get something to drink.
Getting two glasses that were a little broken but not impossible to drink out of, I put them down, pouring orange juice for the both of us, and then offering her a hand up.
Definitely a new routine. With a lot of room to mix things up. That? I don't mind.
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How is he moving? God, I'm lucky he gave up. Anyone with that kind of physical strength probably could have done me in. I don't think there's any part of my body that would be content with even an inch of movement right now. I'll get up with Sam because I probably should, but after that we're going to take things easy.
I grabbed his shirt and put it on, buttoning it while I tried not to laugh at the bloodstains on the sleeves. I did that. That was all me. We're getting along fine now, but a few hours ago, well, we weren't.
I smiled and took Sam's hand, following him over to the refrigerator to take out some fresh fruit for breakfast. I was about to offer to try to put something together without the use of the oven, when the doorbell rang.
"Can you get that?" I looked over to him. "You have more clothing on than I do."
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"Hm?" I glanced over at the door, and shrugged, nodding. "Yeah, sure." I smiled and kissed her, putting on the undershirt since I'd like to answer the door in something other than boxers, and heading over to it.
I opened up the door, and leaned on it. Oh look, it's Greg and Miranda. The Colemans. Isn't that special.
They need to come back later.
I put on a friendly smile, even though I wanted to shoot them for bothering us, and looked over at the cop they had behind them. "Greg. Miranda. Something wrong?"
"We heard some noise, we wanted to see if you were alright."
"Well we're just fine. Carly and I were just..." I lifted my arm up so she could get under it when I felt Carly behind me, and gave the Colemans a good view by accident of the torn up hallway.
"We're redecorating."
Now go away.
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