Guns & Gummy Bears
Aaliyah
The train hummed softly beneath them as it cut through the French countryside. Aaliyah stared out the window, watching the fields blur into green and gold streaks. It should have been peaceful, but her chest was tight, her nerves frayed. The private cabin felt smaller now, the air thick with unspoken tension between her and Cruz.
Cruz sat across from her, as rigid and composed as ever, her eyes flicking between the window and the door. She hadn’t said much since they left Barcelona, her focus entirely on keeping them alive. Aaliyah wanted to say something—anything—but the words caught in her throat.
She trusts me to stay alert. That’s something.
The thought was small comfort as the train slowed, the rhythmic clatter of the tracks easing into a steady hiss. A soft ding announced their arrival at the next station, and Aaliyah glanced at Cruz, who was already watching the door.
“Switching trains soon,” Cruz said, her voice low but firm. “Stay close.”
“Right,” Aaliyah said, her fingers twitching with nervous energy. She adjusted the strap of her bag, willing herself to be steady. Cruz didn’t need to see her shaking.
The train came to a stop, and the quiet rush of passengers boarding and disembarking filled the station. Aaliyah shifted in her seat, her eyes scanning the platform as a group of men in dark suits stepped onto the train.
Her stomach dropped. They weren’t just businessmen. They moved with purpose, their heads turning in unison as if scanning for someone.
“Cruz,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
“I see them,” Cruz said sharply, already standing. Her hand hovered near the knife hidden beneath her jacket. “Stay behind me.”
The men split into pairs, moving down the aisles with precision. Aaliyah’s pulse roared in her ears. One of them paused near their cabin, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at the door. Cruz shifted slightly, blocking Aaliyah’s view.
“Keep calm,” Cruz murmured. “Let me handle it.”
Aaliyah nodded, clutching her bag tightly. But her heart nearly stopped when the door slid open, revealing one of the men. His eyes locked onto Cruz, and a flicker of recognition crossed his face.
“Señorita Manuelos,” he said with a cold smile, his accent sharp and deliberate. “What a surprise.”
Cruz didn’t hesitate. Her fist shot out, connecting with his jaw in a sickening crack. The man stumbled backward into the aisle, and chaos erupted.
--
The cabin was too small for the fight. Aaliyah scrambled out of the way as Cruz lunged forward, her movements sharp and precise. She tackled the first man, driving her knee into his ribs before slamming his head against the wall.
But there were more. Another man pushed into the cabin, drawing a knife as he advanced on Cruz. Aaliyah’s eyes darted around frantically, her hands grasping at anything she could use. Her fingers closed around a champagne bottle, still cold from the small fridge.
Without thinking, she swung it with all her strength. The bottle connected with the man’s temple with a hollow thud, and he crumpled to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.
Cruz spared her a glance, her dark eyes sharp with something that looked almost like approval. “Nice hit.”
Aaliyah didn’t have time to feel proud. Another man appeared in the doorway, his gun drawn. Cruz moved faster than Aaliyah thought humanly possible, grabbing the bottle from her and hurling it at the man’s hand. It struck with a satisfying crack, sending the gun skittering across the floor.
“Stay down!” Cruz barked, shoving Aaliyah toward the corner as she tackled the third man. The cabin shook with the force of their struggle, the narrow space amplifying every punch and grunt.
Aaliyah found herself clutching the edge of her seat with one hand while scrambling for a weapon with the other. Her fingers closed around the spilled packet of gummy bears, and for a split second, she froze.
What am I supposed to do with this?
Cruz and the gun-wielding man were locked in a brutal struggle, the confined space turning every punch and kick into a claustrophobic mess of elbows and knees. Cruz managed to deliver a sharp jab to the man’s ribs, but he countered with a headbutt that sent her staggering backward.
Aaliyah didn’t think—she just acted. She flung the gummy bears at the man’s face with as much force as she could muster.
The packet burst midair, sending colorful candies flying in all directions. Some bounced harmlessly off the man’s chest, but a rogue gummy landed squarely in his eye.
“Gah!” he yelled, clutching his face. “What the hell?”
Aaliyah’s breath came in shallow gasps as she clutched the edge of the seat, her eyes darting toward the gun on the floor. She hesitated for only a moment before scrambling toward it, her fingers closing around the cold metal.
The man Cruz was fighting managed to shove her back, his hand reaching for a weapon concealed under his jacket. Aaliyah didn’t think—she just acted. She pointed the gun and pulled the trigger.
The shot rang out, deafening in the enclosed space. The man froze, his eyes wide with shock as the bullet grazed his shoulder. Cruz used the opening to slam him against the wall, knocking him unconscious with a single blow.
For a moment, there was only silence. Aaliyah’s ears rang, her hands trembling as she lowered the gun. Cruz turned to her, her chest heaving, her eyes unreadable.
“You good?” Cruz asked, her voice steady despite the chaos.
Aaliyah nodded, though she wasn’t sure she believed herself. “I think so.”
Cruz stepped closer, gently taking the gun from her hands. “Not bad,” she said, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “But let’s try not to fire a gun in a metal box next time.”
Aaliyah let out a shaky laugh, the absurdity of the situation hitting her all at once. “Noted.”
--
They moved quickly, leaving the unconscious men behind as they slipped through the train’s corridors. Cruz guided her with a steady hand, her focus razor-sharp. They reached the connecting train just as the doors were closing, and Aaliyah collapsed into her seat, her heart still racing.
--
The connecting train to Stuttgart was a welcome reprieve from the chaos that had just unfolded. The sleek car hummed softly as it carried them through the night, the French countryside fading into darkness beyond the windows. Aaliyah sank into her seat, exhaustion seeping into her bones.
For the first time in hours, she allowed herself to breathe.
Across from her, Cruz sat with her back to the door, her posture relaxed but alert. She was methodically checking her bag, organizing her gear with the precision of someone who’d done it a thousand times before. Aaliyah couldn’t help but marvel at her—her composure, her skill, the way she seemed completely unfazed by the chaos they’d just survived.
But something was different now. The tension between them had shifted, softened. Cruz’s usual cold detachment felt less like a wall and more like a curtain—something Aaliyah could almost see through.
“Do you always carry gummy bears in your go bag?” Aaliyah asked, breaking the silence.
Cruz glanced up, one dark eyebrow arched. “You got a problem with gummy bears?”
Aaliyah smirked. “Not at all. Just didn’t peg you as the type.”
Cruz shrugged, her lips twitching into what might have been the beginning of a smile. “They’re useful. Quick sugar boost, doesn’t take up much space. And, as we just learned, they make excellent improvised weapons.”
Aaliyah laughed despite herself, the sound surprising her. She hadn’t expected to feel anything close to levity tonight, but Cruz’s dry humor was disarming. “I’ll give you that. But I think the champagne bottle did most of the heavy lifting.”
“Not bad for your first fight,” Cruz said, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. “You’re a quick thinker. I’ll give you that.”
Aaliyah felt a flush of warmth at the compliment. “Thanks. I think. Though I’m pretty sure you did most of the work.”
Cruz shrugged again, leaning back in her seat. “Team effort.”
Cruz
Cruz methodically sorted through her gear, her hands steady despite the adrenaline that hadn’t fully drained from her system. The fight had been messy—too messy for her liking. Small spaces always made it harder to move, harder to calculate. And with Aaliyah in the mix, the stakes had been higher than ever.
She handled herself better than I expected.
The thought surprised her, but she couldn’t deny it. Aaliyah had jumped in without hesitation, her instincts sharp even if her actions weren’t polished. The champagne bottle had been effective. The gummy bears? Ridiculous—but oddly satisfying. Cruz allowed herself a faint smirk at the memory of the man clutching his eye, cursing at the candy projectile.
“Do you always carry gummy bears in your go bag?” Aaliyah asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
Cruz looked up, her brow arching slightly. “You got a problem with gummy bears?”
Aaliyah smirked. “Not at all. Just didn’t peg you as the type.”
Cruz shrugged, leaning back in her seat. “They’re useful. Quick sugar boost, doesn’t take up much space. And, as we just learned, they make excellent improvised weapons.”
To her surprise, Aaliyah laughed—a soft, genuine sound that cut through the tension like sunlight breaking through clouds. Cruz hadn’t meant to be funny, but something about the way Aaliyah’s laughter lingered in the cabin made her chest feel lighter.
“I’ll give you that,” Aaliyah said, grinning. “But I think the champagne bottle did most of the heavy lifting.”
“Not bad for your first fight,” Cruz replied, her tone casual. But her eyes flicked to Aaliyah’s, sharp and assessing. “You’re a quick thinker. I’ll give you that.”
Aaliyah flushed, the warmth creeping into her cheeks unmistakable. “Thanks. I think. Though I’m pretty sure you did most of the work.”
Cruz shrugged again, letting the faintest trace of a smile tug at her lips. “Team effort.”
--
The words came easily, but they stayed with her, echoing in the quiet of her mind. Team effort. When was the last time she’d thought of herself as part of a team? Years ago, maybe. Back when she was still in the Marines, before everything went sideways. Since then, her life had been about survival, about trusting no one but herself.
And yet, here she was, sharing a train cabin with a runaway bride who’d just thrown gummy bears at a hired gun. The absurdity of it all wasn’t lost on her.
Cruz watched Aaliyah as she settled back into her seat, her gaze drifting toward the window again. There was something about the girl that made it hard to look away—not just her beauty, though Cruz wasn’t blind to it. It was the way she carried herself, the mix of fear and determination that made her more resilient than she gave herself credit for.
She’s tougher than she looks. But is she tough enough for what’s coming?
The thought lingered like a shadow. Cruz had been in this game long enough to know that luck didn’t last forever, and Aaliyah’s trust in her—so complete, so unwavering—felt like a weight on her shoulders. She wasn’t used to carrying that kind of trust. She wasn’t sure she deserved it.