Post by mcswooney on Feb 28, 2006 23:44:48 GMT -5
Thought I'd try my hand at a Red Eye fic...I'm a little rusty...I write ocassionally, but it's been several months since I last posted a fic on a board. So forgive in advance if the flow is a bit choppy.
I got this particular idea from the scene in Red Eye, where Lisa tells Jackson...
"I'll make that call - but right now you have to let me go. I need to go." (To the bathroom)
"Okay," Jackson says, "I trust you."
...and as Lisa ambles out of her seat she makes a request over her shoulder, attempting casualness, "..and I'll need my purse."
To which Jackson replies, "I don't trust you that much," and refuses to give it to her.
Enjoy!
__________________________________
Lisa entered the restroom, her hands shaking so much she could barely slide the latch. Fresh tears poured down her cheeks as she slowly sank to the ground, her chest heaving, she was very close to hyperventilating thinking about those scary icy huge blue eyes.
She wondered now at the immediate sea change from charming and sweet, to the cool criminal almost sociopathic mindset. She searched her mind for something, anything -- a hint, a clue in his behavior that would tell her there was a chink in his cold steel armour that she might chip away at...some weakness she could exploit, and could quite possibly gain the upper hand with.
She gasped -- and remembered.
It was real...wasn't it?
His caress.
It came to her suddenly, the faint, vague yet incandescent moment between consciousness and unconsciousness - it had been so powerful, that she was able to recall it now.
Yes, very real. The split second rage in those intense eyes when she had lied so boldly to his face, then the head blow that had knocked her unconscious, and then, the memory -- on her slide out of consciousness she felt it...it, being the lingering touch in her hair as he had smoothed it back, not once, not twice but three times.
...and then another sign, the natural almost habitual use of her nickname, 'Leese.' Using it like her oldest and closest friend, or worse - like a boyfriend. It had seemed sometimes that he had forgotten he had initially used it to mock what he thought was her safe, ineffectualness...he had gone on to revert back to it again and again.
That too, was telling.
It was then she knew - she could manipulate him.
For he was not unmoved by her. No. He wasn't as cool, calculating and emotionless as he liked to pretend.
Afer all, why violence when a simple even more stated malevolent threat would have made her cave and cry like a newborn? Simple. He lost control. Jackson got mad, and lost it.
He had passion which was incongrous in this situation with "male fact based logic."
It was a passion that could wound her, even kill her - but it could do the same to him, and most likely would if she kept her wits about her.
That's when she began to plot. She'd get those blue eyes raging again - because when he raged, he wasn't thinking clearly - and she had a chance to outwit this master planner. It's hard to plan when steam is coming out of your head.
That mother%&&^%*, she whisperered hoarsely, wiping her tear stained face with her forearm, and smirking. Preparing to do battle.
Lisa poked her head out of the restroom door -- almost anxious now to get a rise out of Mr. Rippner.
Peeking down the aisle she saw the coast was clear, Jackson had regained his seat, and was most likely awaiting her return with increasing impatience.
"Excuse me," she whispered to her new friend in Dr. Phil, who was a few mere steps from the restroom.
She got no response, so Lisa, louder this time - whispered again "Excuse me?"
The thick grey head of hair moved at the sound of her voice and, Lisa made contact with the kindly eyes once again.
"Oh hi dear!," The lady smiled, then wondered aloud, looking concerned at Lisa's anxious face, "Are you okay?" The portly older lady said, as she rose from her seat and stood by the restroom door.
Lisa grimaced and made a cute and sheepish face, "Uh, yes...I'm fine...well, not exactly -- see...I-I hate to bother you, but I left my purse with uh...some..er...personal...feminine items in it back at my seat."
Immediately, Dr.Phil's biggest fan got the hint.
The older lady's eyes grew large with dawning recognition and sympathetic understanding, "Oh! Oh sure dear - would you like me to go get it for you?"
"I thought you'd never ask," Lisa pretended to smile gratefully, "Of all times..." she rolled her eyes for good measure.
"Oh I remember the days hon - I'm so glad that's over," she whispered conspiratorially, "Be right back!" She whispered cheerfully.
Lisa shut the door quickly, and wished she could have been a fly on the window in the seat with Jackson, when the older lady went to ask him for her purse.
"Excuse me young man," The lady bent down towards a distracted Jackson, startling him.
"Your lovely seatmate is in need of her purse in the ladies room," she smiled into his astounded eyes, then continued, "Would you mind giving it to me - and I'll run it back to her?"
That little b--, Jackson thought, grinding his jaw with barely concealed rage -- just what was she up to?! Nice move, get the old broad to get your purse so you can make a phone call I'll bet, he surmised.
He pretended concern,"Well, I-I kind of told her I'd watch it for her so I don't really feel comfortable handing it over...you understand," he said dismissively, thinking the lady would surely shuffle on back to her seat.
A slight worried expression crossed her face however --"That's very considerate of you young man, the world needs more gentleman like yourself....but uh...you don't understand....
Jackson grew impatient, and whipped his head back around toward the restroom, eyes almost glowing with anger waiting for Leese.
He turned back again and bit out softly, "WHAT don't I understand Mam," turning back towards the lady, and looking quite fed-up.
Men, she thought -- so thick headed.
Whispering, and bending closer to Jackson "Dear, really - she needs her purse," raising her eyebrows to encourage the lightbulb into going off in his head, or so she thought.
Jackson heard the annoying tow-headed 11 yr old girl behind him, cracking up at his seeming obtuseness. She had kicked his seat once too often.
He hesitated still, and the older lady, losing her patience -- thought about reaching for Lisa's purse. It was the least she could do, after her loaning her a book that she had lost already.
He heard the disgusted click of a tongue, "Dude, your girlfriend or whatever is on her period, HELLO?! Give up the purse! Sheesh!" He eyed a pair of contemptous cold 11 yr old blue eyes that were just as steely as his through the seats.
The teen boys in the middle aisle, fell out laughing at the comedy of errors.
"Shush" said the old lady looking at the little smart mouthed girl, then looking back at Jackson with a relieved smile that she wasn't the one who had to get specific. Kids today....
"Oh. Oh riiight," Jackson made like he understood, and grudgingly handed the purse over.
"Finally," said the sarastic rugrat.
Damn everyone on this effin' plane.
He couldn't even disable Lisa's cell, not with everyone's eyes on him now thanks to that annoying loud mouthed brat in back.
His cheeks were flaming -- he was mad as a pitbull, and not just a little embarrassed -- thinking of various ways he'd get back at Leese for this one.
He was going to enjoy every one....
________________________________________
TO BE CONTINUED...if you want that is....lol
I got this particular idea from the scene in Red Eye, where Lisa tells Jackson...
"I'll make that call - but right now you have to let me go. I need to go." (To the bathroom)
"Okay," Jackson says, "I trust you."
...and as Lisa ambles out of her seat she makes a request over her shoulder, attempting casualness, "..and I'll need my purse."
To which Jackson replies, "I don't trust you that much," and refuses to give it to her.
Enjoy!
__________________________________
Lisa entered the restroom, her hands shaking so much she could barely slide the latch. Fresh tears poured down her cheeks as she slowly sank to the ground, her chest heaving, she was very close to hyperventilating thinking about those scary icy huge blue eyes.
She wondered now at the immediate sea change from charming and sweet, to the cool criminal almost sociopathic mindset. She searched her mind for something, anything -- a hint, a clue in his behavior that would tell her there was a chink in his cold steel armour that she might chip away at...some weakness she could exploit, and could quite possibly gain the upper hand with.
She gasped -- and remembered.
It was real...wasn't it?
His caress.
It came to her suddenly, the faint, vague yet incandescent moment between consciousness and unconsciousness - it had been so powerful, that she was able to recall it now.
Yes, very real. The split second rage in those intense eyes when she had lied so boldly to his face, then the head blow that had knocked her unconscious, and then, the memory -- on her slide out of consciousness she felt it...it, being the lingering touch in her hair as he had smoothed it back, not once, not twice but three times.
...and then another sign, the natural almost habitual use of her nickname, 'Leese.' Using it like her oldest and closest friend, or worse - like a boyfriend. It had seemed sometimes that he had forgotten he had initially used it to mock what he thought was her safe, ineffectualness...he had gone on to revert back to it again and again.
That too, was telling.
It was then she knew - she could manipulate him.
For he was not unmoved by her. No. He wasn't as cool, calculating and emotionless as he liked to pretend.
Afer all, why violence when a simple even more stated malevolent threat would have made her cave and cry like a newborn? Simple. He lost control. Jackson got mad, and lost it.
He had passion which was incongrous in this situation with "male fact based logic."
It was a passion that could wound her, even kill her - but it could do the same to him, and most likely would if she kept her wits about her.
That's when she began to plot. She'd get those blue eyes raging again - because when he raged, he wasn't thinking clearly - and she had a chance to outwit this master planner. It's hard to plan when steam is coming out of your head.
That mother%&&^%*, she whisperered hoarsely, wiping her tear stained face with her forearm, and smirking. Preparing to do battle.
Lisa poked her head out of the restroom door -- almost anxious now to get a rise out of Mr. Rippner.
Peeking down the aisle she saw the coast was clear, Jackson had regained his seat, and was most likely awaiting her return with increasing impatience.
"Excuse me," she whispered to her new friend in Dr. Phil, who was a few mere steps from the restroom.
She got no response, so Lisa, louder this time - whispered again "Excuse me?"
The thick grey head of hair moved at the sound of her voice and, Lisa made contact with the kindly eyes once again.
"Oh hi dear!," The lady smiled, then wondered aloud, looking concerned at Lisa's anxious face, "Are you okay?" The portly older lady said, as she rose from her seat and stood by the restroom door.
Lisa grimaced and made a cute and sheepish face, "Uh, yes...I'm fine...well, not exactly -- see...I-I hate to bother you, but I left my purse with uh...some..er...personal...feminine items in it back at my seat."
Immediately, Dr.Phil's biggest fan got the hint.
The older lady's eyes grew large with dawning recognition and sympathetic understanding, "Oh! Oh sure dear - would you like me to go get it for you?"
"I thought you'd never ask," Lisa pretended to smile gratefully, "Of all times..." she rolled her eyes for good measure.
"Oh I remember the days hon - I'm so glad that's over," she whispered conspiratorially, "Be right back!" She whispered cheerfully.
Lisa shut the door quickly, and wished she could have been a fly on the window in the seat with Jackson, when the older lady went to ask him for her purse.
"Excuse me young man," The lady bent down towards a distracted Jackson, startling him.
"Your lovely seatmate is in need of her purse in the ladies room," she smiled into his astounded eyes, then continued, "Would you mind giving it to me - and I'll run it back to her?"
That little b--, Jackson thought, grinding his jaw with barely concealed rage -- just what was she up to?! Nice move, get the old broad to get your purse so you can make a phone call I'll bet, he surmised.
He pretended concern,"Well, I-I kind of told her I'd watch it for her so I don't really feel comfortable handing it over...you understand," he said dismissively, thinking the lady would surely shuffle on back to her seat.
A slight worried expression crossed her face however --"That's very considerate of you young man, the world needs more gentleman like yourself....but uh...you don't understand....
Jackson grew impatient, and whipped his head back around toward the restroom, eyes almost glowing with anger waiting for Leese.
He turned back again and bit out softly, "WHAT don't I understand Mam," turning back towards the lady, and looking quite fed-up.
Men, she thought -- so thick headed.
Whispering, and bending closer to Jackson "Dear, really - she needs her purse," raising her eyebrows to encourage the lightbulb into going off in his head, or so she thought.
Jackson heard the annoying tow-headed 11 yr old girl behind him, cracking up at his seeming obtuseness. She had kicked his seat once too often.
He hesitated still, and the older lady, losing her patience -- thought about reaching for Lisa's purse. It was the least she could do, after her loaning her a book that she had lost already.
He heard the disgusted click of a tongue, "Dude, your girlfriend or whatever is on her period, HELLO?! Give up the purse! Sheesh!" He eyed a pair of contemptous cold 11 yr old blue eyes that were just as steely as his through the seats.
The teen boys in the middle aisle, fell out laughing at the comedy of errors.
"Shush" said the old lady looking at the little smart mouthed girl, then looking back at Jackson with a relieved smile that she wasn't the one who had to get specific. Kids today....
"Oh. Oh riiight," Jackson made like he understood, and grudgingly handed the purse over.
"Finally," said the sarastic rugrat.
Damn everyone on this effin' plane.
He couldn't even disable Lisa's cell, not with everyone's eyes on him now thanks to that annoying loud mouthed brat in back.
His cheeks were flaming -- he was mad as a pitbull, and not just a little embarrassed -- thinking of various ways he'd get back at Leese for this one.
He was going to enjoy every one....
________________________________________
TO BE CONTINUED...if you want that is....lol
I recall I went to that site (FF.net) actually looking for RE fan fic once, and found a few really good stories, but you're right, it's been a while since anything new.
