Post by britt on Oct 29, 2005 10:14:33 GMT -5
Ok, so after reading all the wonderful red eye fanfics out in internet world I was feeling a little, well, "inspired." I know there's a thousand fanfics just like the one I'm about to post, and I am honestly not that good of a writer when it comes to fiction, but I thought I would give it a try anyway *uh oh..* So yeah. I'll post a little here, and if it appears the fine posters of the cillian murphy fan forum enjoy my attempt to entertain, I will continue writing. Above all, no teasing me! 
Oh, and i have no title for it, so if anyone has any ideas let me know. 
Also I know it starts out a little slow and is a little boring..hopefully that will be fixed as the story develops. Thanks guys!
Chapter Uno
It was spring. Miami was gradually finding its way back to its intense heat, and the trees around the city were soon flushed in deep green. Lisa relished in the warm sunlight that greeted her every morning, and allowed it to relax her every evening as she left work.
In the weeks following the red eye to Miami, Lisa had been painstakingly careful with every move she made. She changed her locks and upgraded her alarm system. She even invested in a handgun and kept it hidden in her bedroom. She was alert and anxious all of the time; even when she slept, her nights were restless and the sleep was light. Her father was concerned, of course; although he didn’t think she was overreacting, he did not want his daughter to spend her time in constant, obsessive worry. However, as time went on, she relaxed. She knew that if something were to happen, her precautions probably would not prevent it, and that by letting her worry control her, she was letting him triumph.
She knew Jackson was alive. She knew he was not in custody. Neither of these things surprised her, although she didn’t understand how they had come to be. He should be dead after what he had been through. If anything, he should be in prison for what he did. But somehow, he’d slipped through the system; she supposed it was inevitable that he would.
She longed to have back the fear of him that had gradually diminished within her. Her fear separated him from her. Her fear and her knowledge of what he was capable of should have been a shield for any other emotions that could arise. But that spring she left her windows open just as she’d done in past springs. It certainly wasn’t an invitation, nor was it resignation to the fact that he’d return and possibly hurt her. It was simply her deliberate accordance with her normal, routine actions.
And finally, when she woke up in the middle of one warm night, she felt time expand into an eternity as her slowly opening eyelids revealed to her two bright eyes directly across from hers.
At first, she thought she might be dreaming. She thought she was in the mysterious daze of being half awake and half asleep. Lisa had seen those eyes in the back of her mind since the red eye. She could not explain why they were always there. In her mind, they were not even icy or cold or angry, despite how much she wanted them to be; despite how much she wanted to remember him as cold and angry. She didn’t want to remember anything outside of the violence. Instead, though, they were simply unexplainable and expressive. They mirrored the look in his eyes as he lay on the floor in front of her with two bullets in him and a hole in his throat. That look in his eyes haunted her more than anything else. Was it regret in his eyes? Resignation? Admiration?
Slowly Lisa’s mind cleared from the haze of sleep. She became aware of the tick of the clock in her living room and the quiet hum of bugs outside her window. In the distance, a car horn beeped. Her eyes remained fixed on the eyes of the face that lay across from her, on the pillow next to hers. His face was only about eight inches away from hers, and as she calmly realized she was not dreaming, she found herself listening to the slow breathing of her bedmate.
She wasn’t sure how long they lay there, blue eyes gazing into brown. Finally she lost the period of tranquility that had engulfed her as her awareness took hold.
“Why?” she whispered, the soft word cutting into the intense silence. Why what? She wondered to herself, immediately after the word escaped her lips. Why was he here? Why was she not in hysterics? Why had she been waiting for this?
He did not say anything for a long while. Then his full lips opened and his voice, quietly gruff and weary, touched her ears. “Because we need to leave.”
Lisa swallowed and looked down.
He got out of her bed, and she fully became aware and anxious. She sat up in bed, pulling the sheets up against her. He opened her closet and tossed her a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He was suddenly holding a small black bag and began tossing some clothes into it. Trembling, she slipped the jeans on and pulled the t-shirt over her spaghetti-strap pajama top.
He zipped up the bag and stood at the foot of her bed in the moonlight. She sat on the side of the bed, looking off into the distance, unable to look at the man in front of her, her eyes glimmering with a hint of tears that she would not let fall.
“Let’s go, Lisa,” he said, and took her arm. She let him lead her down the stairs of her apartment building and out into the dark of night. He led her to a silver SUV and suddenly Lisa snapped in action. His grip on her was not very tight, and as quick as lightning she slipped out of his grasp and took off down the street.
Jackson did not yell for her to come back, but simply silently sprinted after her. He was fast and it did not take him long to grab her arm. He drew them out of the street and into the shadows and shoved her against the brick wall of an old abandoned apartment building. She struggled to free herself from his firm hold, but he was too much. His eyes cut into her and her head dropped, unable to hold such an intense staring contest.
“Lisa, I am not here to hurt you,” he said, his face close to hers. “ But you need to come with me.”
Her legs began to feel faint under her, and she began to collapse to the ground. He swiftly caught her and tried to steady her, but once again she began to crumple to the ground. “Leese,” he sighed, and finally picked her up in his arms. She let him do it and did not struggle; she could not find the energy. He opened the door to the SUV and placed her inside, on the passenger seat. His hands quickly fastened her seatbelt, and he closed the door and walked around to the driver’s seat.
Jackson turned on the engine. The clock read 2:42 am. Lisa felt wide awake as he pulled onto the northbound interstate. Silence filled the car until Lisa finally spoke.
“Do you plan on telling me where we’re going, or what’s going on?”
Jackson didn’t bother to glance at her. “We’re going to St. Louis.”
“St. Louis?” Lisa exclaimed. “I have to work-”
“It’s Saturday morning. Later today you can call your work and arrange a week long vacation.”
Lisa looked out the window at the blackness. The car grew silent once more until he continued.
“Believe it or not, Leese, but you’re with me for your protection. The organization that hired my company to do the Keefe assassination isn’t too thrilled about my little failure.” Jackson shifted in his seat. “If the company doesn’t do a separate job for them before next Tuesday, then they’ll be after me and unfortunately, you too. They wanted to capture you themselves. We convinced them to allow my company and I chose to do it as soon as possible because I don’t trust the organization.”
“But why would they want to use me?”
Jackson fell silent again.
“Well, they were originally going to make you do another job. After all, they knew about my record. And when I protested, it made things worse. I didn’t mean to make it worse,” he said slowly. “I just didn’t want to bring you into it again. But if it makes you feel any better, they’d probably still have had you kidnapped.”
Lisa didn’t say anything, and after awhile Jackson said, his voice quiet and patient, “Why don’t you try and get some sleep? There’s a blanket in back.”
Lisa was about to protest but her eyelids were beginning to grow heavy and she reluctantly took Jackson up on his offer. She grabbed the blanket and reclined the seat slightly. She let the strange comfort of Jackson at her side and the sound of the highway beneath them lull her to sleep.
constructive criticism is always wanted!
Oh, and i have no title for it, so if anyone has any ideas let me know. 
Also I know it starts out a little slow and is a little boring..hopefully that will be fixed as the story develops. Thanks guys!Chapter Uno
It was spring. Miami was gradually finding its way back to its intense heat, and the trees around the city were soon flushed in deep green. Lisa relished in the warm sunlight that greeted her every morning, and allowed it to relax her every evening as she left work.
In the weeks following the red eye to Miami, Lisa had been painstakingly careful with every move she made. She changed her locks and upgraded her alarm system. She even invested in a handgun and kept it hidden in her bedroom. She was alert and anxious all of the time; even when she slept, her nights were restless and the sleep was light. Her father was concerned, of course; although he didn’t think she was overreacting, he did not want his daughter to spend her time in constant, obsessive worry. However, as time went on, she relaxed. She knew that if something were to happen, her precautions probably would not prevent it, and that by letting her worry control her, she was letting him triumph.
She knew Jackson was alive. She knew he was not in custody. Neither of these things surprised her, although she didn’t understand how they had come to be. He should be dead after what he had been through. If anything, he should be in prison for what he did. But somehow, he’d slipped through the system; she supposed it was inevitable that he would.
She longed to have back the fear of him that had gradually diminished within her. Her fear separated him from her. Her fear and her knowledge of what he was capable of should have been a shield for any other emotions that could arise. But that spring she left her windows open just as she’d done in past springs. It certainly wasn’t an invitation, nor was it resignation to the fact that he’d return and possibly hurt her. It was simply her deliberate accordance with her normal, routine actions.
And finally, when she woke up in the middle of one warm night, she felt time expand into an eternity as her slowly opening eyelids revealed to her two bright eyes directly across from hers.
At first, she thought she might be dreaming. She thought she was in the mysterious daze of being half awake and half asleep. Lisa had seen those eyes in the back of her mind since the red eye. She could not explain why they were always there. In her mind, they were not even icy or cold or angry, despite how much she wanted them to be; despite how much she wanted to remember him as cold and angry. She didn’t want to remember anything outside of the violence. Instead, though, they were simply unexplainable and expressive. They mirrored the look in his eyes as he lay on the floor in front of her with two bullets in him and a hole in his throat. That look in his eyes haunted her more than anything else. Was it regret in his eyes? Resignation? Admiration?
Slowly Lisa’s mind cleared from the haze of sleep. She became aware of the tick of the clock in her living room and the quiet hum of bugs outside her window. In the distance, a car horn beeped. Her eyes remained fixed on the eyes of the face that lay across from her, on the pillow next to hers. His face was only about eight inches away from hers, and as she calmly realized she was not dreaming, she found herself listening to the slow breathing of her bedmate.
She wasn’t sure how long they lay there, blue eyes gazing into brown. Finally she lost the period of tranquility that had engulfed her as her awareness took hold.
“Why?” she whispered, the soft word cutting into the intense silence. Why what? She wondered to herself, immediately after the word escaped her lips. Why was he here? Why was she not in hysterics? Why had she been waiting for this?
He did not say anything for a long while. Then his full lips opened and his voice, quietly gruff and weary, touched her ears. “Because we need to leave.”
Lisa swallowed and looked down.
He got out of her bed, and she fully became aware and anxious. She sat up in bed, pulling the sheets up against her. He opened her closet and tossed her a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He was suddenly holding a small black bag and began tossing some clothes into it. Trembling, she slipped the jeans on and pulled the t-shirt over her spaghetti-strap pajama top.
He zipped up the bag and stood at the foot of her bed in the moonlight. She sat on the side of the bed, looking off into the distance, unable to look at the man in front of her, her eyes glimmering with a hint of tears that she would not let fall.
“Let’s go, Lisa,” he said, and took her arm. She let him lead her down the stairs of her apartment building and out into the dark of night. He led her to a silver SUV and suddenly Lisa snapped in action. His grip on her was not very tight, and as quick as lightning she slipped out of his grasp and took off down the street.
Jackson did not yell for her to come back, but simply silently sprinted after her. He was fast and it did not take him long to grab her arm. He drew them out of the street and into the shadows and shoved her against the brick wall of an old abandoned apartment building. She struggled to free herself from his firm hold, but he was too much. His eyes cut into her and her head dropped, unable to hold such an intense staring contest.
“Lisa, I am not here to hurt you,” he said, his face close to hers. “ But you need to come with me.”
Her legs began to feel faint under her, and she began to collapse to the ground. He swiftly caught her and tried to steady her, but once again she began to crumple to the ground. “Leese,” he sighed, and finally picked her up in his arms. She let him do it and did not struggle; she could not find the energy. He opened the door to the SUV and placed her inside, on the passenger seat. His hands quickly fastened her seatbelt, and he closed the door and walked around to the driver’s seat.
Jackson turned on the engine. The clock read 2:42 am. Lisa felt wide awake as he pulled onto the northbound interstate. Silence filled the car until Lisa finally spoke.
“Do you plan on telling me where we’re going, or what’s going on?”
Jackson didn’t bother to glance at her. “We’re going to St. Louis.”
“St. Louis?” Lisa exclaimed. “I have to work-”
“It’s Saturday morning. Later today you can call your work and arrange a week long vacation.”
Lisa looked out the window at the blackness. The car grew silent once more until he continued.
“Believe it or not, Leese, but you’re with me for your protection. The organization that hired my company to do the Keefe assassination isn’t too thrilled about my little failure.” Jackson shifted in his seat. “If the company doesn’t do a separate job for them before next Tuesday, then they’ll be after me and unfortunately, you too. They wanted to capture you themselves. We convinced them to allow my company and I chose to do it as soon as possible because I don’t trust the organization.”
“But why would they want to use me?”
Jackson fell silent again.
“Well, they were originally going to make you do another job. After all, they knew about my record. And when I protested, it made things worse. I didn’t mean to make it worse,” he said slowly. “I just didn’t want to bring you into it again. But if it makes you feel any better, they’d probably still have had you kidnapped.”
Lisa didn’t say anything, and after awhile Jackson said, his voice quiet and patient, “Why don’t you try and get some sleep? There’s a blanket in back.”
Lisa was about to protest but her eyelids were beginning to grow heavy and she reluctantly took Jackson up on his offer. She grabbed the blanket and reclined the seat slightly. She let the strange comfort of Jackson at her side and the sound of the highway beneath them lull her to sleep.
constructive criticism is always wanted!
