forum The Cowboy and the Wizard // One on One // With Grace

Started August 23, 2019 by Deleted user

tune

Edit topic

"They got grub in the bar," he said, rubbing his eyes to try and clear the fog of sleep. "I'll see what they have when I wake up a bit more."

Even after 3 hours, it didn't sound like the party had stopped yet.

She nodded, getting to her feet and starting to pace around the room, both to think and to keep her legs moving. It was a habit she picked up from her fellow classmates and it had stuck with her ever since. Alex glanced at Slate and tried to figure out who his mother was based just on his looks. She knew she could go look it up or just ask a fellow colleague when she got back, but this was more challenging and gave her brain a task.

After a few more minutes, he got to his feet and yawned, scratching the top of his head and he shook the sleep out of his legs. They made made eye contact when she looked over at him and he tilted his head in response.
"Somethin' wrong?" he asked

“Just thinking,” She replied, glancing at him again before looking at the ground as she paced. In her head she couldn’t recall anyone that worked for the ministry that looked even somewhat like him, which just confused her even more. Alex felt for her wand in her pocket and just kept a hand on it as she continued to pace, “Let’s just get something to eat and get out of here.”

He scooped the duffel bag from the ground and threw it over his shoulder, adjusting it so the strap wouldn't dig into his shoulder as badly. Glancing down at his shirt to make sure there was no drool on it, he reached for the door handle and opened the door.
The word, "Flipendo!" greeted him immediately and he was sent crashing into the back wall by a jet of green light.
The huge form of Big Mark lumbered into the room, a pained expression on his face and a large wand gripped in his left hand.
"I'm sorry, partner," Mark said, pointed the wand over at Grace, "They lef' me no choice."

“Shit,” Alex muttered, wand already in hand and pointed right back at the large form of Mark, “Told ya we shouldn’t have stayed here, Slate.” She glanced over at him momentarily but didn’t do anything to rush to his aid, needing to dispose of the threat before she could even focus on getting him out to the car safely.

"Expelliarmus!" Mark shouted and Alex's wand flew out of her hand and into his.
"They threatened mah fmaily, Slate," Mark said, the pain evident in his voice as he turned back to him. " I'm sorry. There's nothin' else Ah could've do-"
His sentence was cut shot by a deafening BOOM! and Mark went flying out of the open door, blood splattering the doorframe.
Slate sat slumped against the wall, smoke trailing from the barrel of the shotgun in his hands.
"Apology accepted," he growled, pain evident in his voice.

Her eyes widened and she visibly jumped at the noise, looking at her now wand less hand with a look of both confusion and anger. She looked over at Slate before marching out to Mark’s body and grabbing both her wand and his, muttering a string of curses before marching back in and over to him, “Well, Mr. Isaac, I would suggest we get out of here before anyone else even more pleasant comes to visit us.”

Slate nodded, standing up with a grunt. He zipped up the duffel bag and through it over his shoulder, choosing to keep the shotgun out. He walked with a heavy limp, stepping over the body of his former friend with a pained expression on his face.
"It was you or me, bud," he said quietly, barely audible as he shoved his way through the crowd gathered around the door, assuming Alex would follow him.

Alex glanced at Mark with only a dash of remorse, following Slate with a stone cold look. Her wand was tucked back into its pocket and she had Mark’s wand as well as she walked out of the bar and let out a small breath, “Are you ok, Mr. Isaac? The spell he hit you with wasn’t bad, but being thrown again a wall could do damage.”

"Yeah," he grunted, rubbing the back of his head and wincing. "I could use a band-aid or two, but yeah."
He tossed the duffel bag into the back of his truck once again, choosing to take the shotgun with him into the cab.
"How about you?" he asked after she climbed into her seat.

“I’m fine, he only disarmed me and nothing else.” She slipped into the passengers seat again and closed the door, rolling her shoulders back, “Let’s get on the road again, Mr. Isaac.” Her mind drifted to the fact that she hadn’t eaten but she pushed it away. Slate’s safety was more important than food at this moment, she would be sure to find something when they were safe.

"Mr. Isaac," he repeated with a small grin. "It's starting to grow on me."
He started up the truck and shifted into gear, driving out of the parking lot just as the sound of the police sirens reached their ears.
"Any ideas where to go, now?" Slate asked.

Alex looked over at him and shrugged, “Didn’t you say you had a place somewhere? Otherwise any regular hotel will work.” She was surprised to hear that her calling him by his last name was growing on him and she rolled her eyes, though the tiniest smile tugged at her lips.

"That place was Mark's house," he grumbled, turning his nose up. "Are you sure that a hotel'll be safe?"

“Do you trust my magic?” She asked in response to his question, “Or, more generally, do you trust me, Mr. Isaac?” Her eyes flicked to the road and she was clearly still on guard from the incident at the bar.

"That was my best friend that I just shot," he snapped back with sudden aggression. "I can't even trust my own fuckin' brother. So sorry if I'm finding it difficult to trust anything but myself and my fucking guns."

Alex blinked calmly and just shook her head barely, “I know from experience that trust is earned. But, unless you feel like sleeping in your truck, I’d suggest you give my magic a little trust. A hotel would be safe.” She fiddled with her wand and looked back out the window, letting Slate choose where they headed next.

He let out a long sigh, bringing his temper down to its usual level. After a few minutes of silent driving, he spoke up again, his voice soft.
"I'm sorry 'bout that. None of this is your fault and there was no reason for me to shout at you," Slate said, glancing over at her for a split second. "I know a hotel near here."

She nodded, relaxing back into her seat and thinking as to how unaffected she was with his shouting, about how much it didn’t bother her now, “Alright Mr. Isaac, though this time, I’d suggest you leave your gun in the car. I may not know much about the muggle world, but I do know that hotels don’t like it when guns or other weapons are brought in.”

"I'm gonna bring the revolver," he said with finality. "No way I'm not gonna be armed, especially after what has happened."

“Ok, just not the big gun,” She said, unsure which one was the revolver and which one wasn’t. Alex looked around at their surroundings as they drove, fingers drumming on her leg.

"You mean the shotgun?" he asked, glancing over at her again. "Your dad kept you so sheltered that you don't even know what a shotgun is?"

She scrunched her nose, looking out the window, “It’s not fully his fault, muggle history and objects were not my subject in school.” Her eyes flicked over to him but she didn’t say anything further, not wanting to get back into her history any further.

"Oh?" he asked, raising his eyebrow at the road. "And what did you guys learn, other than spells aand shit?"