Know What it Takes?

"Come on Steve!" Bryan called down the hall, "are you ready to hit the club?"

"I can't come," Steve called back, adjusting his glasses with one hand while his other hand kept his place in the shuffle of papers on the desk.

"What!? Why not?" Bryan asked as he entered the room. He was dressed to go out. A slightly iridescent black shirt was paired with comfortable jeans.

Steven looked up from his paperwork, "because I have reports and paperwork to finish that are due next week. And they won't do themselves," he said calmly.

"Aw man, take the night off," Bryan wheedled, "you can get it done tomorrow."

"If I do that then I will get behind," Steve said as he turned back to his papers, "do you know what it takes to keep this unit running smoothly?"

Bryan thought about that for a moment, realizing that he didn't know exactly how everything got to where it needed to be and how they got their money, or paid their bills or received their supplies. He always assumed that some clerk in the military handled the logistics of the team.

"I guess not," Bryan finally said.

Steve nodded, more to himself than to Bryan and returned to his paperwork as Bryan left the room.

"I should be free on Friday night though!" he called to Bryan. He couldn't see Bryan's grin as he walked out the front door.

Beatbox

Steve sauntered down the hall towards his math class, headless of the looks that he got as he passed. He tapped rhythmicly on his thigh as his lips contorted, his voice forming the strangest sounds. For a moment it sounded like a snare drum to be followed by a base drum, a kick, some base, and various synth sounds, all of it tumbling from his lips in the most compelling patterns.

Steve leaned against the wall outside his class room as he continued to Beat box, his eyes closed and his fingers keeping time on the wall; increasing in tempo and complexity. He finished with a flourish of sounds and stepped into the room just as the bell rang, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Mama

"Hi mama," I said quietly as I knelt down in the cool grass of the late afternoon. I reached out and brushed a little bit of dirt from the smooth granite of the headstone; it was still a little warm from the sun.

"There are so many things I wanted to say to you," I began to talk to my mom, as if she were there, as if she could hear me. "Things that I never had a chance to say. Things that I didn't understand or couldn't express," my voice trailed off as memories came to the surface. Memories of good times, memories of how she had shaped my young life. Many of my memories flitted like insubstantial wisps, and others stood out in sharp detail.

"I know I probably never said it enough, but I love you. And I wanted to thank you," I paused, again assaulted by memories. "Mama thank you for who I am," I began, "thank you for all the things I'm not." I knew that because of her my job had a purpose. I was not like many of the others in the units who had little to no soul, who didn't care who they hurt and why.

"Mama remember all my life, you showed me love, You sacrificed. I think of those young and early days and how I've changed along the way," I continued to ramble on, just pouring my heart out. I felt tears begin to form, this day had been long in coming and now that it was here I found it hard to go on.

"I know you believed in me and I know you had dreams. And I'm sorry it took all this time for me to see; That I am where I am because of your truth. I miss you," I choked out, "I miss you."

I stood up on unsteady feet, "Everything that I am I owe to you, mama," I whispered and turned away.

In Heaven

Steve couldn't stop crying as his father held him tightly. "It's alright son," his father murmured as he stroked his young son's head, "It's alright. Dash was an old dog. It was just his time to go."

"But Dad," Steve sniffled, "who's going to keep away the monsters from my room at night? Dash always slept right at the foot of my bed so that no monsters would dare to come in. Who's going to run with me, or play catch, or hunt for bunnies?" Steve's eyes filled up with tears again at the thought of his best friend in a hole in the backyard.

"I know it hurts son, but sometimes those that we love the most have to leave us so that we can grow and become stronger," his dad said as he wrapped Steve in a tight embrace.

"Dad?" Steve asked.

"Yes Steve?"

"Will I see Dash when I get to heaven?" Steve asked

"I know you will," his father said and hugged him again.

Around and Around

The pavement flowed under Steve's feet as he ran through the dark streets. His hands were clenched and his body ridged; jarring with every step as his feet pounded the ground. Narrow eyes took in his surroundings, irritation radiating from his body.

Steve shook his head, trying to dislodge his dark thoughts, but his mind kept skittering back to his problems; brooding.

Left right; Left right.

Breath in; Breath out.

His mind circled his problems as he circled the base. Again and again, around and around, from every angle, every possible solution. Sweat poured from his body, his shirt sticking to his chest.

Gradually he settled into a rhythm, his pace becoming smoother, his strides long and controlled, his breathing easier.

As he slowed to a stop he stretched his long limbs, shaking out the tingling that came with a long run, and wiping the sweat from his brow.

His problems weren't gone, the darkness still lingered, but he could ignore them for a while longer.

Leveling

Men and women in white ghees accentuated by various shades of belts milled about the large multipurpose room on the lower level of the training facility; the low buzz of conversation filled the air.

"Attention!" a Drill Sergent shouted as he stepped into the room followed by several men in Ghees, all belted at the waist with black belts stripped with red. All of the soldiers snapped to ramrod straight attention.

"Form ranks!" the Sergent shouted.

In less than a moment all of the soldiers were in perfectly dressed lines, standing at attention, awaiting orders.

"Alright you Leathernecks, time for belt advancements again," the Sergent said as he paced back and forth in front of the men, "your instructors today are Sensei Akane, Sensei Daichi, and Sensei Kiyoshi."

The Sergent stopped in front of the ranks, "I know you will all give it your very best, and I expect nothing less than completion of your rank requirements." He gave the gathered men a steely glance, "Pair up and get to it!"

Joe fiddled with his blue belt as he stepped up next to Steve in his red belt. "Steve, can you help me out for a moment?"

Steve looked around at Joe, his green eyes taking in the nervous young man, "sure Joe; what do you need help with?"

"The lower joint lock, I'm not sure I am getting it right," Joe said.

"Alright, lets run through it," Steve said as he fell into the ready stance.

Joe followed suit and stood ready, waiting for Steve to make the first move.

Steve moved with lightning fast reflexes, jabbing and twisting away. Joe reacted, blocking and turning in response to Steve's attack. Within a few minutes Joe had Steve in a joint lock, his face pressed to the mat.

"Good," a voice behind them said.

Joe released Steve and snapped to attention, "Sensei Kiyoshi!"

"Easy soldier," he said as he motioned Joe to relax.

Joe fell into a parade rest, waiting for Sensei Kiyoshi to speak.

"You're form could use a little work, but you have the basic principles," he said as he walked around Joe. "Try this," the Master said as he flowed through a couple of forms.

Joe studied the Sensei's forms with a sharp eye, taking in the movements. As the Sensei began the forms again Joe fell into sync beside him, his movements precise and sure as he relaxed into the rhythm.

"Good," Kiyoshi said as they finished, "I can, in good consciousness, award you the rank of green belt."

"Thank you Sensei Kiyoshi!" Joe said.

"Call me Scott," Kiyoshi said.

In Action

Major David Cole was killed in action in July of this year. Major Cole was a dedicated member of our armed forces; quickly rising in the ranks to become a Major at the age of twenty-five. Major Cole served with distinction in many combat and special operations. Orphaned at 15 when his father was lost in a plane crash, he lived briefly with his aunt and uncle. He joined the military shortly after graduating high school where he made it his mission to keep the world safe.

Major Cole is survived by his team, First Lieutenant Steven Blackwood, Second Lieutenants Brian and Mark Allard, and Second Lieutenant Joseph Kendrick.

Steve sighed in frustration at how little he actually knew about his commander; how little the world knew about such a great man. Nobody knew how many times he had placed the safety of the country ahead of his own, how many times he had gone without the basic creature comforts so that others could have them. It bothered Steve that no one knew that David even existed; apart from the military and his own team. It didn't seem like enough, a short paragraph to lay to rest the memory of David. He knew that anyone reading the short clip would not know him. No one knew that he could sing or that he liked to look at the stars. No one knew that he liked to dance. No one knew that he had so great a love for one woman that most people would not be able to understand the depth of his passion for her. No one knew that he was a great leader and even better friend.

Steve knew that David didn't have anybody other than the team. Ariana was long gone and so were his parents. Steve didn't know if his aunt and uncle were still alive, but he doubted that they would even know that he was gone. In fact he would be surprised if the cared at all. Not that they were bad people, they just never connected with David.

Steve let his fingers hover over the keyboard, searching for the right words to capture the essence of David. He couldn't put in any specifics about the combat action, it was all classified and the rest seemed to personal for the casual perusal of the world.

Steve shook his head and clicked send on the screen, sending the email to the obituary columns of half a dozen papers. Even if no one else out there cared; the team cared. It was the least that they could do to let the world know that a great man had died.

Warbreaker

"Whatcha doing Steve?" Bryan asked as he leaned over his teammates shoulder.

Steve's shoulders tensed slightly at the interruption, "I'm trying to relax," he said as he placed one finger between the pages of the rather thick book in his hands.

"Oh. What are you reading?" Bryan asked as he leaned forward to get a look at the title of the book.

"Warbreaker," Steve said in a clipped tone of voice. He flipped the book back open again to where he had left off.

"What's it about?"

Steve sighed in resignation and closed the book again. "It's about a man named Vash, a bunch of 'Gods', a sentient sword and a God king."

Bryan quirked an eyebrow. "So it's fantasy?" he asked.

"Yes."

"You enjoy that type of stuff?"

"Obviously, or I wouldn't be reading it."

Bryan shrugged and walked away.

Steve shook his head and opened the book again; quickly loosing himself in the story.

Glassy Eyed

Steve stumbled as he took the last turn in the obstacle course and fell to the ground in a heap. Seconds later he was on his feet again racing towards the finish; breathing labored and ragged.

"Time. Two minutes forty-three seconds," David's voice called out.

Steve bent over his knees, huffing and struggling not to throw up. David approached from where he had been observing the course.

"You feel alright Blackwood?" he asked a trifle gruffly; there were other teams around.

Steve looked up at his commander from glassy feverish eyes and forced himself to stand up straight; his vision blurring and threatening to go black.

"Fine sir."

David took a step closer so that none could overhear them. "How long have you been sick Steve?"

Steve glanced around quickly, "a few days sir. This is the worst that its been."

David brought his hand up with a towel in it. To anyone looking on it would look like he was wiping some sweat from his soldiers brow, but David ran his wrist over his friends forehead.

"You're burning up Steve," David said quietly, and with a little disapproval.

"It's not that bad Boss," Steve said.

David leveled a look at his subordinate officer.

"Steve, I want you to go back to base and wait for me to get there. I will write you a week pass so that you can get well," David said as he pushed Steve's shoulder, steering him back toward the bunker.

It was a testament to how poor he felt that Steve didn't even argue; just turned and walked wearily back to base.

Why Am I Here

'Sometimes I ask myself why I am here. Not here as in the world, here as in my situation. I had a fairly normal life. How did I end up here in a black-ops unit saving the world day after day? Always another mission, always another life to save, always our way of life to uphold. Am I a glutton for punishment? Did fate just deal me these cards, though I really don't believe in fate. Fate as in something you can't escape... Nope, I don't think there is a point to that. Why do I do it and what do I hope to gain from it?'

Steve slowly closed his pocket journal and slipped it back in his bunk. These questions always rattled around in his head.

Moving On

Steve cringed back from the thought of seeing his commander again after last night. He shook his head. I should have kept my mouth shut. I just can never seem to get that right. Where is that mental filter when you need one. I should have just backed off and let it be.

Steve knew there was no avoiding David even if he wanted to. He took a deep breath and stepped out of his room early the next morning. He knew that David would be alone in the kitchen.

When Steve poked his head around the corner he could see David, his back was towards him, he was looking out the window and his posture told that he was tired, or resigned, or perhaps both. Steve slunk around the door frame and edged towards the coffee pot that was sitting near where David stood.

"Morning Boss," Steve said quietly.

"Good morning," David replied, but didn't turn from the window.

Steve drew in a breath before speaking, "I just wanted to say I'm sorry Boss. I shouldn't have butted in, it was not my place to say anything at all," Steve said.

David finally turned from the window and looked at his second in command, Steve looked miserable, and David couldn't help a ghost of a smile from flitting across his face. "It's alright Steve," he said, "you were and still are right. I should move on." David fell silent, but Steve didn't say anything, wanting to let David say his piece.

"I guess," David continued after a moment in low and broken tones, "I didn't want to let her go. She was the best woman I have ever known. She was my first love, and then she was gone. I suppose it was easier to hold on to her than to try to let her go and move on. I was going to marry her Steve, but then, you never knew that, you never knew anything about me. I guess if I moved on, then I would feel as if I were betraying her, that I had failed her, like I did before. I know that her death was not my fault, but I have always felt responsible for her murder. I should have been there with her. And maybe that would not have changed anything, but at least I could have tried to do something."

Steve reached out and placed one hand on David's shoulder and squeezed, offering silent support.

David continued, "I nearly died the winter following her death. I would have lain down and given up but for one person who saw me at the edge and pulled me back." David paused for a long time before speaking again, "at this point I don't know if I can move on. My heart has been frozen in place for so long that maybe it had forgotten how to beat, been ice for so long that it has forgotten what it was like to be flesh."

David drained off the last of his coffee as Steve stood in silence. He was certain that he alone would ever know what David had just told him.

David turned to Steve after placing his cup in the sink, "how does one move on Steve?" he asked.

Stubborn to a Fault

"Take a rest Mark," Steve said. There was still six miles left to camp and the sun was going down. It was just Mark and Steve out for a run.

"Come on, we can make it to camp before night if we keep going," Mark said, he didn't sit down as indicated by his superior officer.

"You are on the verge of collapse already," Steve noted in a dry tone, "take a rest and we will get to camp when we get there, an hour after sunset, no more."

"I don't need to rest Sir. I can make it," Mark said.

"Just sit down for a few moments."

"I can make it. There is no need to coddle me."

"I'm not. You won't make it if you keep pushing yourself."

"I know I can make it back before sunset."

"And if you pass out once you are there? Then what?"

"Sir..."

"Just sit down Allard. Take a breather for twenty and then we will be on our way."

Mark still didn't sit down.

"Do I have to make that an order Allard?"

"No Sir," Mark said as he sat down at last, "but I still think I could have made it."

Can't Move On

"Are you going to come with us tonight Boss?" Steve asked as he straitened his collar in the mirror. He knew what the answer would be before he asked, but he wanted to offer anyway.

David didn't even look up from where he was working at the table, "No, but you men have fun," he said.

"Come on Boss, just once. Come out for the night. It's not like the paperwork is going to disappear in the few hours we'll be gone," Steve said.

David looked up at last at his subordinate officer. He could see the worry in his eyes. He glanced down at the papers on the table and sighed, "alright," he agreed.

Steve broke into a wide grin, "It will be great!" he said as he clapped David on the shoulder.

David stood up from the table and walked to his room where he flicked on the light. He looked in his closet and pulled out a slightly dusty dress shirt and a pair of slacks; these he brushed off and quickly changed into.

David was the last out the door. The soon arrived at the club and the others split off to their various pursuits; Bryan and Mark to the dance floor and Joe to a poker table.

Steve hung back with David, wanting to introduce him to some of the regular people that he knew. His eyes brightened as they fell on Loreena. Perfect, he thought to himself. He gestured to Loreena to come over.

Steve watched her approach and thought of the possibilities for David. Loreena was a petite blond woman with delicate features and porcelain skin. She was clad in a simple black dress that fell to just above her knees.

"David, this is Loreena," he nodded at the pretty woman, "Loreena, this is David, he's my commanding officer," Steve said, making the introductions.

Loreena smiled an offered her hand to David who shook it firmly, "It's nice to finally meet you David. Steve has mentioned you frequently."

A smile ghosted across David's face, a smile that didn't quite warm his eyes. "It's nice to meet you too," he said.

"Would you like to dance?" Loreena asked.

David was about to decline when Steve nudged him discreetly. "Alright," David said and held out a hand to her.

*****************************************

David sighed as he closed the front door, it was after midnight and he still had work to do. He shouldn't have gone to the club.

"So, did you have fun?" Steve asked as he poked his head around the corner.

David paused before answering, "Yes. I did enjoy myself," he said.

Steve grinned, "so are you going to see her again? I know that she liked you."

"No," David said as he hung up his jacket, "no I won't be seeing her again."

Steve's face creased with puzzlement, "why not? It's not like you're married or anything," he said.

"You wouldn't understand," David said as he walked past Steve towards his desk.

Steve perched on the edge of the desk as David began to work. After a few moments of silence; broken only by the faint rustle of papers and the infinitesimal click of the pen, Steve finally asked, "is this about Ariana?"

David's head jerked up, shock written on his face, "how do you know about that?" he demanded.

Steve hesitated before pulling out a folded piece of paper and handing it to David. "This landed at my feet about a month ago," he said.

David swallowed hard. He knew what this was even before he unfolded it. His hands shook as he held the letter that he had sent heavenward.

"I think that she would want you to move on," Steve said quietly.

David's eyes flashed to the younger mans face, fire darting about in those dark eyes. "I can't," he said as he pushed back the chair roughly.

"Why?" Steve asked to David's turned back, a back that was tense with pent up emotion. It was almost a whisper, pleading to have it explained.

"Because I still love her," David said, his voice no louder than Steve's.

Steve shook his head as David stalked out the door towards his bedroom.

David knew that he could never love another. He knew that he couldn't move on. That was the reality of his life. And he would not give up on that, because without her, he was nothing.

Always Another Secret

Steve shifted a glance to the left and to the right. He was pretty sure no one was at the safe house at the moment so he felt relatively secure in the knowledge that no one would find him out. "Anyone home?" he called out for good measure.

When no one answered, he stepped through the doorway and into the living room. He knew that if the others found out, they would harass him mercilessly about it, he would have no peace. The only problem that he had found so far was in finding a secure place for his private stash. Steve's eyes roamed the rooms, analyzing, scanning them for anything that was even slightly out of place; David always insisted that everything be exactly where it was supposed to be.

Even knowing that no one was home, Steve still walked through the house on whisper-quiet feet, lithe movements, almost like a stalking cat. He knew everyone on the team had little hide-a-holes secreted through the house, hiding things had become second nature to all of them. Steve knew them all, but he was pretty certain they had not found all of his.

Steve walked to one of his more well known spots and opened a cupboard. Inside he removed a false panel and shuffled a few of his items to one side, a spare gun and clip, a few bags of chips and a jar of salsa. At the top of the hidden cashe Steve removed another panel, revealing a secondary hidden compartment which was empty aside from a picture of a smiling woman.

Steve wiped a bit of dust from the shelf and straitened the picture as he reached into his jacket pocket. He drew out a bulky paper bag, slightly crumpled and worn. he unrolled the top of the bag and drew out a single object. Steve glanced around and quickly rerolled the top of the bag and gently placed in in the compartment. He closed the false panel and rearranged the items in the other; he then closed the false wall and closed the cupboard.

Steve carefully examined his prize from every angle, inspecting it for flaws. Satisfied, he popped it in his mouth, sighing in relief and satisfaction as the dark chocolate and raspberry creme melted in his mouth and slid sinfully down his throat.

River Stone

"Hello?" Steven asked, his voice coming out gravely from sleep when he picked up the phone.

"Lieutenant Blackwood!" his commanders voice barked over the line.

Steven rolled out of bed and came to his feet in a perfect parade rest, an automatic reaction to the voice of authority. He would have saluted, but there was no one in the room to salute. "Yes Sir," Steven snapped out. "What are your orders sir?" his words came out firm and smooth, like a rock that had been worn flawless by an eternities dance with the tides of a river.

"Get your gear; wheels up in thirty minutes. Notify the others," David ordered before hanging up on his subordinate officer.

"Yes Sir," Steve said, though it made no difference. Steve ran across the hall to their team barracks and flipped on the light. The others made noises of protest and covered their faces.

"All of you. Get ready to go, we have a hot one and no time for complaints," he laced his words with an edge of steel, daring anyone to argue with him. "Wheels up in thirty, so you have fifteen to be ready and on your way to the hanger. Now Move!" Steve commanded.

Steve ran back to his room and was ready in no more than eight minutes. After the allotted time he ran back to the team room where there was organized chaos everywhere.

"Time to go gentlemen," Steve said, his tone brooking no argument, "let's go." He lead the way down the corridor and a swift jog towards the jet hanger.

The Letter

Steve picked up a piece of paper that was tied with a ribbon. It had fluttered down out of the sky to land near where he was enjoying a bit of sun on the grass. Attached were bits of balloon and a long thread. Steve glanced around and unrolled the paper. He was surprised to see it was a letter.

Dear Ari,

Here it is, another year gone past and I am still here. Oh, how I long for the day when we are together again. I don't know if you are watching over me; I like to think that you are, that you can see all I do. Would you be proud of me? Would you shudder in shame at the things I have done for our people? Our people, such a strange concept. All inclusive, but at the same time, we are all isolated. When I stop to think about it, they are not my people, they are only the people, the people that I serve and protect, the people that I have no doubt, one day I will give my life for. I would have given my life for you. Then I have to stop and ask myself, why do I do this? Is it to shut the world out, keep everyone and everything at a distance?
I've never said it to anyone, not that anyone knows much about me, But I never got over loosing you. I stopped caring for a long time. In fact, if you were watching me, you know that I nearly laid down and died that winter. Then, I had so much hate for so long that I didn't know what to do. And then when my hate was gone, I didn't know who I was anymore. I simply continued in what I had become. There was nowhere for me to go, no one to go to. I became a shell, I still am a shell in some ways. Hollow, with a great void where my heart should be, where you should be. Maybe that is how I am able to do my work; to kill people, and give little thought to it.
If there is some great eternal realm after we die, will you be there waiting for me?

I love you Ari, with all the love that I have left in me, all my love has always and will always be yours.

David

Steve nearly choked when he saw the signature. He recognized it.

Liquid Void

Joe was unsure what to make of the strange new sensations he was experiencing. All around him was a liquid void; clear, yet dim to his eyes. He could hear clearly the hiss of air as he drew in a breath and was fascinated with the bubbles that started so small when he exhaled, but grew to resemble mushroom clouds of air. Joe reached out one hand and batted at one of the blossoming bubbles. It exploded into micro bubbles. He smiled behind his respirator and hit another one.

He could see Steve just below him, cruising along with the current slowly. As Steve exhaled and the bubbles drifted up towards him, Joe removed his own mouthpiece and breathed in the bubble of air. Delighted, Joe almost forgot himself and laughed, but he remembered to replace his respirator.

Joe deflated his BCD just a little and sunk lower, passing the thermocline into colder waters, coming along side of Steve as his friend studied a bit of rock formation.

Steve turned to look at the younger man, peering out through a slightly fogged mask. He tapped Joe's air dial and motioned that it was time for them to return to the surface. Joe nodded and began to rise lazily, passing into the warmer waters just below the surface of the lake.

After surfacing, Joe removed his mouth piece, "that was amazing! Can we do it again?" he asked.

"Sure," Steve said, "let's go get more air."

Into Nothing

Steve checked over his equipment meticulously as the large aircraft rose into the bright blue sky. He hummed to himself, the sound indecipherable beneath the roar of the engines, as he strapped his pack into place. Steve snapped the harness into place and tugged on the straps to tighten it in place.

He glanced at his watch, reaffirming the time and took a deep breath as he stepped to the bay door. The wind snatched at his clothes, ghostly fingers plucking at his jumpsuit, as he stood on the thin metal surface beneath him.

Steve felt his watch vibrate. He slid his goggles into place and his eyes slid closed as he stepped out into nothing.

Steve knew by instinct when he should open his eyes to watch the ground approaching. He felt a release inside him that only a free fall could give him. A sense of absolute freedom even as he felt the ground rushing towards him.

Steve opened his eyes and positioned his body. He pulled on the rip chord that would activate his chute and slow his decent. Steve idly watched the ground drift towards him, bracing himself for touchdown. He pulled on the chords that would flair his chute and he met the ground as gently as if a feather was falling.

Point of the Exercise

Stars exploded behind Steve's eyes as his head snapped backwards, the force of the blow shattering his nose with a sickening crunch; the back of his head hitting the high railing on the chair he was tied to. Steve blinked, bringing his head back up. He drew a few shallow breaths, trying to keep his side from burning from the broken ribs.

"You know," the interrogator said, almost as if he were talking about the weather, "this can all end when you tell us what we want to know."

Steve shook his head, blinking back a few tears of pain.

The man sighed, "have it your way," he said. He nodded to the man next to Steve. The large and brutish man took up a large hammer and swung it at Steve. Blood began to flow freely when Steve bit clean through his lip as the man broke his arm.

"Are you ready to speak?" the more refined man asked, "what are the attack plans for your military? What weapons do they have and where will they strike from?"

Steve raised his head and smiled through the blood that was still flowing from his nose and lip. "You really want to know the secret?" Steve asked, his eyes dark and fathomless.

"Of course," the man said, "after all, that is the whole point of this exercise."

"Okay," Steve said, looking him in the eye and lowering his voice, "the secret is, that you're about to die."

The man was still laughing as the bullet entered his head.

Escape

Steve whistled aimlessly as he sauntered down the hall in the science building, he had a few hours before his next class and he was just killing time. He didn't notice the pretty girl with pale blond hair hurrying down the hall towards him, darting glances behind her. He was pulled off balance as the girl grabbed his arm, tugging him along with her.

"Hey," Steve began, but was cut off when the girl backed him up against the wall and glued her face to his. Shocked, Steve pushed her away from him, "now wait a second," he tried to get out.

"I'll explain in a muinute," the girl said quickly and kissed him again.

Steves mind fuzzed and seemed to go blank, all that was preasant was sensation and he began to kiss her back, quickly warming to the situation.

The girl broke off the kiss the second time, pulling away and smiling shyly, "I'm sorry, I needed to get away from someone. I thought that if he saw me kissing someone else, he would leave me alone," she finished, turning a brighter red.

Steve swallowed hard, trying to reorder his thoughts. "Well, anytime you need to escape, just let me know," he finally said, a silly grin spreading across his face.

"Thank you," she paused to wait for his name.

"Steven," Steve said.

"Steven," She nodded, "thank you Steven."

"You're welcome,"

"Bethany," The girl said.

"It was nice to meet you Bethany," Steve said as he pulled out a piece of paper from his binder. He quickly wrote down his number and handed it to Bethany.

"Thank you again Steven," Bethany said as she turned away. She would be keeping his number and if she ever got over her embarrasment, she would be giving him a call.