Hayden Maragos (hayden_maragos) wrote in low_tide, @ 2010-02-03 20:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | bethany richards, hayden maragos |
Attached at the Hip
After her friend's "unfortunate" disappearance, Bethany's life had improved tenfold. She'd gotten her claws on that well-deserved promotion and had been bringing in changes to the work place fast, meaning she no longer wished to carve chunks out of people or remove eyeballs from sockets. It wasn't a permanent solution, but it would suffice for the time being. Bethany did have her eyes set elsewhere, but she needed collateral before she could lose the job. All in good time.
Given that she was and would always be a woman of her vices, Bethany had grown rather fond of a coffee brewed by a store not that far from where she lived. It had to be completely black with no sugar before she drank it though.
She'd even given her wardrobe a massive overhaul so she was no longer dressing like somebody's mother, exchanging loose layers for tight fitting complimentary materials that sculpted her legs and complimented her curves.
Bethany was starting to take control of this once off-the-rails excuse of a life and it felt good, really good. Not that waiting did her patience any favours, mind you. Bethany smoothed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and narrowed her eyes at the person in front of her as he appeared to be taking his own sweet time in picking a beverage. "For God's sake," she muttered under her breath as she barely refrained from putting his head through the counter.
She turned her head and took brief note of the man stood behind her before her attention moved elsewhere, returning to the babbling mass in front of her. When he finally moved on, Bethany took a short step to fill his spot, leaning in to order her drink.
It was as she lifted her hand to pay for her coffee that something very strange happened, a wisp of what seemed to be a silver tendril first wrapped her wrist before it settled, locking the firm clasp of metal in its place. If that wasn't bad enough it seemed to tighten, pulling the blonde rather dramatically to the right until she found herself colliding with the man stood behind her.
The really tricky part would be maintaining her balance on those heels and at this particular angle.
Thanks to the double he pulled at Abandon Ship! the night before, Hayden was a zombie. Rounding up, he had slept 4 hours before his alarm went off, announcing it was time to get up and run errands, like paying rent and swinging by the post office for stamps. Not normally a huge coffee drinker, he found himself in dire need of an espresso drink, just to stay on his feet.
The menu was like a foreign language. Skinny cinnamon dolce latte. Non-fat caramel macchiato. Tazo chai. Reaching into his t-shirt sleeve, Hayden scratched his bicep and looked for a beverage that would feel like a slap in the face. There was a blonde woman in front of him. He noticed when she turned around and glanced his way. They made brief eye contact before he went back to the menu.
When he felt something tickle his wrist, he jerked and rubbed at it, thinking it was an insect. But it wasn't. It was a tiny, silver chain. Hayden yanked and inadvertently tugged the blonde closer, whom he hadn't realized was attached to the other end. "What the...?" He slipped his fingers into the loop around his wrist. "Lady, I'm not your dog. Mind letting me off the leash?"
Bethany somehow managed to keep her balance and merely regarded what she could only assume was a human male beneath all that... hair.
"Excuse me?" She asked incredulously, eyebrow lifting at his comments. "Trust me if I was going to leash any man you'd be my last choice." She glanced at her own wrist and lifted it until he could see it. "Also? I'm in the exact same predicament as you." At this precise moment an unsettling memory flashed through her mind as she recalled time spent on the end of a leash and at the mercy of demons. It caused an unpleasant shiver to run the length of her spine.
Bethany shrugged it off easily enough. "There has to be a clasp or something, to get it off." The chain itself seemed pretty thick and very real, but a woman could hope, couldn't she?
In the middle of studying the other people in queue, trying to find a practical joker, Hayden stopped to lift an eyebrow at her. "Really. Your last choice?" He looked around the coffee shop, spotting one guy hunkering over a laptop who looked like a sociopath, and another with dreadlocks that hadn't seen soap and water in a year. "That's nice." What a bitch...
He twisted his arm from the shoulder, trying to find a clasp. The odd thing was that none of the small links looked like a clasp. "I don't understand how this happened," he muttered, tugging so hard inside the loop that his fingertips went purple. Hayden got the impression they'd come off before the chain broke.
At the counter, the barista barked, "If you're not going to order, please step aside!"
Hayden gave her a dirty look.
Bethany ignored the man's comments and merely turned a dark gaze on the barista in question, silencing the woman almost instantly. "Much better," she commented before she wrapped her fingers around the chain, gripping at it with that unnatural strength of hers. She'd snapped necks, smashed through walls and broken bones so why for the love of God could she not break this chain?
"This is ridiculous," she expelled out angrily, accent thickening in the despair of the moment. "Wait, let me try something else." Bethany wasn't entirely sure who she was talking to, but she was talking out loud, reaching into her hair to pull out a clip that effectively loosened the entire do, which meant longer lengths came cascading over her shoulder.
She bit her lower lip and searched the chain for a lock because there had to be a lock, there just had to be. Grasping at straws, probably. It was only when she realised that there wasn't a lock that Bethany looked up at the man she was now stuck to. "Okay, so there's no lock, which means the only way we're getting this off is by using bolt cutters."
Hayden worked the chain onto his hand, seeing how far he could get it, which turned out to be the knuckle of his thumb. "Yeah, or Criscoe," he said, but he was joking, because not even cooking grease would coax the chain over his fingers. Hayden sighed. "I've got some in my Jeep... Bolt cutters, not Criscoe. Don't flatter yourself."
He stuck his thumb in the air and pointed at the parking lot. "Coming?" Well, she'd kinda have to, if he was going to make it to the toolbox.
Bethany blew out another frustrated breath and gave a nod of her head, following in the man's wake as he headed out of the coffee shop and in the direction of the parking lot. Even though this body hadn't worn heels, Bethany managed to carry her weight on the new heels that she may or may not have bought with the new pay rise.
She found herself wondering if bolt cutters would work considering her Slayer strength had done nothing to shift the chain itself. God, she really hoped that they would.
"So, I'm going to hope that these bolt cutters of yours have a long, illustrious history of cutting stubborn chains."
Hayden walked though the gravel lot until they reached his old, red Jeep, which was showing signs of rust in the salty air. Whenever they passed anybody, he hoped they wouldn't notice the chain dangling between their arms, which might be mistaken for a weird dom/sub fetish. He unlocked the door and hauled himself into the driver's seat on his knee. "Step a little closer," he said, straining to reach into the back of the Jeep while he was attached to the blonde. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn't gotten the coffee, since a trip to the john would've been awkward.
He dragged the toolbox between the seats and put it on the passenger side. He opened it up and selected the bolt cutters. "Alright, um... pull the chain tight." Hayden positioned the bolt cutters so that the chain was between the clamps. "Here goes nothing."
Bethany did come closer, refraining from commenting on the state of the car or the fact it was exactly what she was expecting. She grabbed a hold of the chain and pulled it until it was tight, every link tense, so when he closed the cutters the chain should by all rights just come clean away.
She turned her head as she felt the presence of people more than she heard them, watching a small crowd wander past with their freshly bought coffees. The chain brought about a strange look in one that was shortly dismissed after he was met with the dark brown of Bethany's eyes.
"Let's hope this works."
"Yeah." Hayden struggled for a neutral tone, like he was definitely not panicked by the mysterious appearance of a chain on his arm, not suspicious of the blonde on the other end of it, and not annoyed at the idea of spending a few hours with a woman who had actual claws. Cool down. It'll break.
Only it didn't. He squeezed the handles tighter. "You've gotta be kidding me." Hayden, who was no slouch in the arm muscle department, gave it another try. When the links didn't break, he inspected the place he'd been pressing on. "There's not a scratch on it. No bends, nothing." Upon closer inspection, he couldn't even see the places where the circular links melded together. The craftsmanship defied logic. He tucked his hair behind his ear and rubbed his jaw. Think. Too bad he didn't have any liquid nitrate on him.
"Fuck," was Bethany's less than polite retort to the fact the chain wasn't breaking, not even denting. She frowned and dragged her lower lip into her mouth, catching it between her teeth as she tried to figure out how to get the chain off them both. Bethany had better ways to be spending her time than chained up to some random stranger who looked like he'd just walked off a forest ranger show.
She curled her fingers in the links again and tightened her grip, pulling in the hopes that this time they might give beneath her strong hands. They didn't and she was absolutely dumbfounded. "Well, this is definitely not good." She placed her free hand on her hip and tapped her fingers against the bone that was slightly exposed by the way her trousers sat.
Something about this whole situation felt and seemed wrong, like there was more to this. Weird stuff like this used to happen all the time in Vegas and Chicago. "We could try seeing a professional?"
"A professional what?" Hayden asked from the driver's seat of his Jeep. "I don't know about you, but this chain doesn't look like any I've ever seen, plus it materialized out of thin air. Which makes about as much sense as..." Nothing. He stopped talking. Taking a break from looking at her attitude, he scrubbed his palms over his face and pushed his hair back. What were you gonna say, a vampire attacking you on the patio at work? Nah, man, keep that shit to yourself.
He thought about options. Did he know any machinists? Or should they head to the police station? Ah god, what if Kris Michaels was in there? No, fuck that.
"You were on your way someplace, weren't you?" he asked instead. Hayden's tanned finger pointed at her outfit. High heels and silk pants were hardly suited for lounging around. And Jesus Christ, she was skinny. She probably weighed 90 pounds soaking weight.
"I was going to lunch," Bethany said. "But I'm pretty sure that's not happening because last thing I need to be doing is turning up to a lunch with my manager with this chain and you attached to me. He'll probably think I'm into weird kinky sex games." Which she was, but that wasn't for anybody else to know. God, this world was so... dull.
She really wished she was in Chicago right now as in that reality she had countless contacts she could call to sort this... mishap out, but here she was in this new world with no useful contacts. Briefly her mind flicked to John, wondering if the vampire had his fingers in any magical pies. The supernatural tended to attract the supernatural or so she had found.
"I suspect we might be stuck like this for the moment."
Annoyance aside, she seemed to be handling the situation well. Hayden stared at her in mute disbelief. The blonde's brow was as smooth and un-rumpled as her outfit. "This sort of thing happen to you often?" he asked. It was a rhetorical question. He kept turning over possibilities in his head. Magic tricks, stunt chains. Somebody in that coffee shop was responsible for it. At the least, a witness saw it happen, right?
He climbed down and shut the door, making sure to lock it. His Jeep wasn't worth stealing, but tools were another thing.
Hayden reached up and rubbed the back of his neck. "Think they've got security cameras in there?" he asked, cutting his eyes to the coffee shop.
"More often you might think," Bethany muttered under her breath. She cast her gaze back towards the coffee shop and lifted an eyebrow. "Guess we're going to have to convince them to let us view the tapes." She was pretty sure she'd seen a male manager hanging around and knew exactly how to get him to do what she wanted, but it would prove more difficult with this... blonde attached to her. She should probably get his name at some point, especially if they couldn't get this chain off anytime soon.
She ruffled her hair and applied another layer of shocking red lipstick, parting the collar on her shirt until she had her collarbone exposed. "Right," she muttered as she turned back to her fellow victim in bondage. "Let's go get a look at those tapes. Just follow my lead."
A funny thing happened to Hayden's eyebrows when he saw the red lipstick and all the skin. They sort-of quivered. She looks like Kelly Bundy, he thought. The only thing missing's the spandex miniskirt. But no matter how insulted he was over her disdain at being chained to him, Hayden wasn't about to say anything unless she forced it. "Uh yeah." He pushed his keys into his jeans and walked alongside her.
Hayden felt like an idiot; He was just as worried about who saw them as he was about the predicament. He held open the door for her and looked around.
Bethany took a quick look around the coffee shop and then set her sights on the manager she could see moving around in the background, putting a very deliberate sway into the way she moved and she affected a charming smile.
"Hi, could I talk to you for a moment?"
The manager, a guy by the name of 'Brad', looked rather taken aback and his gaze flicked between Bethany and Hayden. He seemed to remember his management training a moment later. "Certainly, ma'am. What can I do for you?"
Bethany deliberately wet her lower lip, drawing attention to it when her teeth lingered on the fullness of it for longer than was absolutely necessary, leaning in to share a quiet conversation with Brad. Whatever she was saying was having a considerable effect on the other man's complexion.
If flirting didn't work she could always threaten to crush something that he valued above all else.
Complexion? If only it stopped there.
Hayden watched the manager practically melt into a puddle, all because a leggy blonde in lipstick was giving him the time of day. Seriously? Alright, this guy just lost about a thousand respect points. Getting the distinct impression that he was imposing, Hayden folded his arms and looked elsewhere. He rocked on the soles of his boots and prayed to god he wasn't that transparent around women. What was the big deal? She was attractive and had the accent going for her, but she was kind-of pretentious.
Brad un-scrambled his brain long enough to point at an office door. 'Manager', the generic sign read. Apparently, that's where the CCTV equipment was kept. "You're welcome to take a look," he said, directing 90% of his attention to the blonde.
Impatient, Hayden stepped in. "Yeah, thanks, we appreciate it. I'm Hayden, by the way." He shook hands with Brad and took the lead toward the office.
Bethany would have given Brad a killer smile had Hayden not marched off in the direction of the nearby office. So the ape had a name, noted. She followed in his footsteps and waited until the door of the office was shut before she crossed over to the machines in question.
"There has to be something on these tapes." She eyed the various machinery and glanced at Hayden. "Do you know how to work this stuff or do I need to go get Brad?" Hopefully the tapes would reveal a face that Bethany could break.
Had she always been this inclined towards violence? Probably.
"Yeah." Hayden took a seat in a rolling desk chair. It was old and listed to the left because a wheel was missing. "We've got a similar set-up at my bar." He rubbed a palm on his mouth, then set about backing up the footage to the right time marker. The film was grainy and the color was turned up way too high, making everyone's faces look lobster red. After a minute, he said, "There," and pointed at the two of them in line.
On screen, the blonde cast a disparaging look at the customer in front of her. Hayden stared at the menu. Then a silver streak came from the direction of the door and latched itself around them.
"Wait... what was that?" He backed it up and played it again in slow motion. Hayden leaned close to the monitor and squinted.
Bethany leaned forward as Hayden took up a seat in the desk chair, resting her elbows across the back of it as she watched the film playing back earlier events. She saw exactly what he did and lifted an eyebrow slowly. "It looked like some sort of silver streak and it seemed to come out of nowhere."
Magic, it had to be, there was no other explanation. Only why her, him and nobody else?
She shifted her gaze from the screens to Hayden, wondering just how willing he was to accept that there was way more to life than just the black and white details. "Bethany," she finally offered.
Distracted, Hayden looked back and nodded, then did a double-take. When the hell had she leaned in so close? "Ah... Nice to meet you." He resisted the urge to lean as far away as possible. Not that he normally minded women in his personal space, but she was exactly the sort that made him self-conscious. Like she might count the number of times he nicked himself with a razor.
He stopped the footage. "Any theories? Because I've never seen anything like that."
She probably would.
Bethany snorted quietly. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?" She smirked at him then cast her eyes back to the footage. "I have... one, but I'm pretty sure you'd consider it madness, but then we're attached to one another by a mysterious chain that just so happened to appear out of thin air so madness is a relative term."
She dragged her teeth over her lower lip again and decided to come right out with it. "The only explanation I can possibly think of for this," and she held up the chain to better emphasise her point, "is a little thing called magic."
He frowned uncertainly. "Alright," Hayden hedged.
He watched her fiddle with the chain, then experienced the mental version of a record scratch. "Wait, really? You're saying magic, like... spells and rituals." By the look on his face, he was more stunned by the idea than outright opposed to it. Hayden was a history buff, and there were plenty of times in human history when shit happened that couldn't be explained by logical means. Picking up that book on Caribbean witchcraft made him scratch his head a little harder. A reasonable man could admit that magic was no more outlandish than a Christian claiming Jesus was resurrected from the dead. But still. Really?
He picked up his end of the chain. It felt normal to him.
Bethany merely lifted an eyebrow. "Well, it's the only plausible explanation for how this thing ended up on both our wrists when we know nothing about one another and only happened to be stood next to one another in a queue."
God, she hated magic. It was always so... tricky, never knew where you stood with it and it was too easy to get wrong as evidenced by their current predicament.
"That said if this is magic at work we might have a hell of a time trying to get this thing off."
Hayden leaned forward, his elbows poking his thighs. He rubbed his face. "Shit." Beyond the whole 'she just blew his mind' thing, they still had to figure out a way to get the chain off. What were they supposed to do in the meantime? Sooner or later, somebody would have to take a leak or would want to shower or change clothes. Oh man. He was gonna have to cut himself out of his t-shirt, unless Bethany could fit herself through the sleeve (from the looks of her, it was worth a try).
He straightened up. "We're so fucked." He stared at the employee time cards on the wall. "If anybody asks, this chain thing is a project for class. Communications or Sociology or something."
The logistics of this predicament were going to be... awkward to say the least, but thankfully Bethany had very little hang ups and didn't shy away from getting naked in front of other people. Why would she? She was a confident woman completely at home in her own skin. She, however, didn't think Hayden would be quite so open minded about the whole thing.
"Things could be worse," she murmured with a lift of a shoulder. "You could be attached to another guy." Bethany wouldn't be that bothered about being attached to another woman because she'd seen it all before and admired some of what she'd seen.
She glanced at the chain and nodded. "Agreed." She glanced at the screens and then looked back at Hayden. "I suppose we should... get out of here."
Hayden nodded. "Good idea." He wasn't sure where they would go, but Brad's office had served its purpose. He stood up and opened the door. The coffee shop manager lurked in the hallway, probably hoping for a nice reward from the lipstick queen.
Just looking at the guy made Hayden want to punch him. Misplaced frustration. He had a feeling there was plenty of that in his future. "I dunno about you," he said, "but I could use a drink."