Chapter 3
1 hour and 48 minutes later:
“Fuck!”
“I can sight 8 armed coming down east wing.”
“Need a little help on 3rd floor!”
“Hurry up Fitzsimmons!” May chastised them. She was stood in the doorway, icer in hand, lightly bouncing from foot to foot in anticipation. With the rest of the team needing help on the lower floors taking out the multiplying guards, it was decided Phil would be the one to go assist them- reasoning that the key part of the mission was to de-arm the potential weapon and take it back to the lab for examination, therefore keeping Fitzsimmons safe was priority. Obviously the Calvary was best at keeping them safe. Not that she agreed.
The coms were going wild though, with curses of pain and distress calls being frequent, it was frustrating for May to not be in the action, but instead watching (more like listening) from the sidelines. She was the Calvary for Christ sakes! It was her speciality. Speaking of specialities, Fitzsimmons were rapid-firing science talk to one another in a way that was so fast and complex they might as well have been speaking Gaelic for May. Shrugging it off, she turned her full attention to the empty corridor ahead of her, and the audio of the mess below.
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East Wing:
“Son of a bitch!” Exclaimed Lance loudly, recoiling in pain from the whip the attacker was swirling around himself to keep the agent at bay. It had struck him across the top of his thigh, and it stung like a bitch. More and more guards were filing through the door at the far end of the bleak corridor he was trying to hold down with Bobbi and this guy was really beginning to piss him off. Usually he had no problems with making light out of the situation, but this 6ft hunk of tattoos in front of him was really starting to boil his blood.
Hearing Bobbi curse in pain behind him and fall to the floor, he instinctively reached out for her, holding his hand behind his back. After dodging another whip, he felt a smaller, clammy hand grab onto his as she pulled herself off the ground. Tugging her to stand by his side, they were once again blocking the way to the junction of corridors, where Trip and Coulson were trying their best to fend off guards coming from the south side and Skye and Ward were securing the West Wing. Glancing her way, Lance saw she was in a pretty bad way. Her face was bruising badly and she was clutching her hand to her waist, where he could see a neat rip in her top (most probably from a knife).
He felt his heartbeat quicken at the sight of her in pain.
A sharp pain flashed through his upper arm as the whip came cracking down once more.
I think it's safe to say that, at that moment, Lance Hunter saw red.
A lot of red.
Grabbing the whip mid-strike, he stamped down hard on the man's foot, which caused him to buckled over. Taking advantage of the attackers current position, Lance brought a knee up to the guys face whilst consecutively pulling harshly on the whip he still grasped in his hand. Hunk of tattoos went crashing forward, finally put out by Bobbi's boot to his face.
Looking up, Lance smirked at his girl when he saw she had a wry smile on her face.
“I was handling that.” He said, matter-of-factly.
“So I saw.” Came the sarcastic reply
“Don't play the hero. It really doesn't suit you.”
“What else have I to play? You have the role of damsel in distress covered.” He didn't even have to look at her to know that she was smiling profusely. He could hear it in her voice.
They were facing each other now, so she could see the opening and closing of his mouth as he tried to think of a good come-back.
“What's the matter Hunter? Cat got your tongue.” Bringing her foot out and upwards, she kicked the approaching attacker in the balls, before striking out with her fist in a 90 degree swing, knocking him to the floor.
“H a h a. Very funny. You know, I think you're right I mean... I am more feminine than you. It makes me more approachable. Like the time in 99 in that bar in Chicago at New Years-” Spinning 45 degrees, he brought his fist crashing into the face of another guard knocking him out cold.
“Don't you dare Hunter-” Locking her arm out straight at shoulder level, she swung it round until it collided with the throat of the attacker she was currently working on, slamming him into the wall before sinking to the floor. She never once took her eyes off her boyfriend though as she was currently trying to death stare him into submission.
“Oh that's right-” he grunted in pain when he took a blow to the stomach. Grabbing onto the woman's kevlar, he brought his forehead crashing against her own. Watching her eyes roll to the back of her head, he shoved her back into the man behind her, causing him to stumble which bought him some time to turn back to Bobbi, a wry smile now on his face.
“He asked ME out. And sorry... who thought he was asking them out? I can't quite recall.” Now he was grinning like a Cheshire cat and my God she'd never wanted to both slap a man and kiss a man more in her entire life. It was at moments like this when she fell in love with him again. Sure the sex was mind-blowing and they had a lot in common and there was no doubt in her mind that he was the man for her... But when the fought together, and when the f o u g h t together, she knew he was the ONLY man for her.
“Bobbi? Love, is everything okay?” Side-stepping a copper pipe, he buried his fist in the next attackers gut, then elbowed him in the back of the head when he doubled over, never once taking his eyes off Bobbi.
She couldn't help the crazy grin that spread across her face, threatening to split it in two as she nodded her head rapidly. Watching him dispose easily of the next guy, she took the brief respite to grab the front of his worn leather jacket, before crashing his lips to her own so hard that she slammed her body against the wall behind her.
He responded instantly, groaning against her lips, hands gripping under her thighs and hoisting her up so their torso's were pressed tightly together. She gripped onto his face with both hands, denying him any chance of release.
Swirling in the pit of her stomach, she felt it ignite her every vein, her every cell. Every single ounce of her entire being, past and present in all and every universe loved this man before her so much it hurt and it was the best thing that had ever happened to her.
She knew by the way he touched her, called her name, hugged her from behind, brought her a coffee in the morning, that he felt the same. When he sparred with her, cooked with her, read to her, washed her hair. He'd stay up with her when the nightmares took over. He'd always get her a gift for Christmas and her birthday, he'd wash her dishes, help her with the laundry, let her pick her side of the bed, carry her bags, remind her to always bring extra ammo (she always seemed to forget). And above all, he always, always had her back.
And she had his.
It was them against the world. Always and forever and the rest.
Breaking the kiss, she looking into his eyes, causing him to lose his little remaining breath once again.
“I. Love. You” she whispered.
Smiling that goofy smile that could bring civilizations to their knees, he replied honestly, like she always knew he would.
“I love you too. So, so, so much.”
“Are we done with this because if there's much more of that to come we may just have an encore of my breakfast.” Trips' amused voice sounded from the corridor ahead of them, causing them to smile and break apart. Taking her hand in his, Lance strode carefully down the corridor towards Trip and Coulson, Bobbi in-tow, taking care not to step on any of the bodies that littered the floor. Any remaining attackers had been taken out by Coulsons' and Trips' icers whilst they were having a moment, so it seemed.
“Guys. We have a problem.” That was May through the coms. Sharing a concerned look, the four of them stood in the junction of the four hallways they were defending. Having just come from the East Wing, Bobbi and Lance knew that the South Wing was where Trip and Coulson where holding ground, and also that the North side led to the stairs which took you directly into the path of May and Fitzsimmons... Which left the West Wing... where Skye and Ward were meant to be stood right now. However, aside from a dozen bodies all wearing the same uniform that scattered the ground eerily, the pair were no-where to be seen. Doing a three-point-turn to look down all four corridors once again, Coulson grit his teeth before bringing his hand up to his ear.
“Yeah, we're beginning to get that.”