Between Midnight & Dawn (m)

[Guest Ash]

Title: Between Midnight & Dawn

Author: Ash

Fandom/Orginal: Original

Summmary: All he'd wanted was coffee and kleenex

Warnings: A tiny bit of violence

Author's notes: Hi! I'm new to all this, so any pointers/feedback would be warmly appreciated Thanks for taking the time to read.

-----

The graveyard shift at the 7-11 store might not be everyone's first choice in a job. It wasn't mine by any stretch of the imagination, but I did it for the simple reason that it was effectively a job that paid me to do my homework. In fact, I'd grown to like the relative peace of the store at night.

I say "relative" because even at ass o'clock, the city didn't sleep. It just dozed a little, with gridlocked streets relaxing into lazy roads and bustling malls quietening into convenience stores.

At the moment, two punk-looking kids were buying late night snacks. They probably had the munchies. A middle aged lady and her husband were studying the condom selection.

I stifled a yawn and shivered at the same time as the automatic door slid open for a man in his late twenties, dressed as if he'd just come from the office. That was absurd - it was past midnight on a Sunday night - but there he was, wearing suit pants and a black shirt with a tie that had been loosened to hang casually around his neck. He was nice to look at, too, dark haired and brown-eyed, but what stood out about him was the intensity - and resigned irritation - that he radiated.

He headed for the tinned food aisle, and my eyes followed him of their own accord, although I did try to be discreet. He hadn't even reached it before the annoyance faded from his expression, replaced by something more urgent.

"... h'hh... IHSHKXX! ...h'IPSHKK!"

He sneezed desperately into a napkin, then sniffled quietly, his mouth tight with irritation. When he located the shelf of tinned soup, he subjected it to such a displeased glare that I smirked despite myself, wondering what crime the chicken soup could possibly have committed.

I lost sight of him as he disappeared into the toiletries aisle - probably looking for the tissues, I thought, hearing another desperate sneeze from his direction. Sure enough, he was at the register a few minutes later with a few cans of soup, a jar of coffee and a box of kleenex.

At this proximity, I could also see that his skin was an unhealthy shade of pale and his nose was beginning to look raw from the amount of times he must have used the rough cocktail napkins on it. Most people at that stage of a cold - especially at 12:30am at that stage of a cold - would have looked woebegone and pathetic, but he just looked tired. And irritated. And sexy. Damn.

"Will that be all for tonight?" I asked him.

He hesitated then asked, almost reluctantly, "Do you have any pseudoephedrine?"

I blinked. "Excuse me?"

He gave a brief sigh of exasperation. "It's cold med... h'NGHKSH!" The sneeze was so sudden that he just got his hand up in time to catch it. He sighed again, and rubbed his nose tiredly.

"Oh," I said, intelligently. "Um, bless you." He just looked at me with impatient expectation. The cold medicine. Right. "We have Dayquil or Nyquil," I told him.

He shook his head. "I need something pseudoephedrine based," he admitted with grudging reluctance. "Anything else puts me straight to sleep."

Given the fact that it was long past midnight and his voice was growing hoarser with every word, I would have thought sleep would have been a good thing. Obviously not.

He handed me his credit card. "That will be all, thank you."

"You don't want the Dayquil?" I ventured to ask. "You'll probably feel better after some rest."

He looked at me as disdainfully as was possible when he had the crook of a finger pressed against his nose, fighting the urge to succumb to a growing sneeze. "That will be all, thank you," he repeated, a touch icily this time.

I shrugged and took his card. If he wanted to feel like crap, there wasn't anything I could do about it.

"That's $7.48, thanks Iain," I said, reading his name off his card.

Before he could reply, the door slid open again, bringing with it another gust of chilly October air.

"HISCHXK!"

Iain sneezed abruptly into another paper napkin, his resolve to hold it back broken by the sudden cold gust. He sniffled and wiped his nose, but I noticed that the sneezy look still hadn't left him.

That was all I had time to notice, however, because at that moment, Condom Lady gave a strangled scream and stepped backwards into the condom display, sending the boxes crashing to the ground.

The guy who had just walked in had one gun in one hand and another gun on his belt. I didn't know much about guns but I thought knowing that this guy had two was probably as much information as I'd ever need.

"Holy shit," I muttered beneath my breath, because I'm eloquent like that.

"Get to the back of the store!" shouted the gunman, gesturing with his gun. His eyes darted with panic and a crazy, infuriated resolve.

Condom Couple and the punk kids didn't need to be asked twice.They hurried to the back of the store, against the line of fridges filled with milk and beer.

I made myself look at the gunman. No need to be such an Angry Anderson, I thought at him, and nearly giggled, all rational thought flying out the window. Angry Anderson was squat and bald and tattooed - this "Anderson" was lean and ropy, with dirty blond hair and a manic glint in his eyes, which at that moment were fixed on me with a lascivious stare.

"Do you want me to open the till or something?" I asked, succeeding in keeping all but a trace of curtness from my voice.

Anderson hesitated for a moment, then grunted affirmatively.

"Gimme the cash," he snapped, his eyes never leaving me as I collected the notes from the till and slid them across the

Anderson shoved the bills into his pocket without looking at them or counting them. He waved his gun at the back of the store, and I didn't need to be urged twice. I joined Condom Couple and the punk kids against the fridges.

That left Iain. He was looking at the gunman with what seemed to be his standard expression of irritation and impatience.

"What are you lookin' at?" demanded Anderson, who seemed a bit taken aback. Then he looked Iain up and down, noting, no doubt, the quality of his clothes. He leered at him. "Gimme your wallet or I'll blow your brains out."

Iain raised an eyebrow at the gunman in a way that made him the luckiest man alive when the inside of his head wasn't decorating the cookie display two seconds later. However, he did reach into his back pocket - slowly, keeping his free hand raised - and pulled out his wallet, and from there, a respectable wad of notes. Anderson pocketed this, again without looking at it.

"Go sit next to her," he ordered, waving his gun in my direction, and "Sit down!" he barked at us. We did. The floor was icy cold and slightly sticky, but at this point, I figured we had bigger worries than laundry tomorrow. Part of me was scared shitless, because hello? Crazy dude waving a gun in our faces. But part of me was curious, too, because from what I'd seen on TV, this wasn't how standard hold-ups went, was it? I mean, the money almost seemed like an afterthought to the guy. And then I regretted that thought, because if he wasn't here for the money, what the hell was he here for?

Iain sat down beside me as ordered. He smelt faintly of cologne and even more faintly something metallic that reminded me of learning to solder in middle school. His dark hair was a bit ruffled and this close, I could see the smudged shadows beneath his eyes and hear the faint hoarseness of his breathing. He looked exhausted. And annoyed. Granted, being held up by a lunatic gunman when all you really wanted was some chicken soup was annoying, but I wasn't sure that annoyance was at the top of my list of emotions at that moment. Freaked out, definitely. Uncomfortable, yes, because my behind was quickly becoming numb from the cold floor. But annoyed? A distant third, perhaps.

Anderson, who had been pacing and muttering to himself, seemed to come to some decision, because he pointed at me again with the gun.

"Give me the keys to the front," he ordered, and I did, reluctantly. I watched him lock the door in one quick motion and my heart sank. How was anyone going to find out about us? My cell phone was still sitting under counter.

"What do you want?" Iain asked coolly, voicing the question that had been at the forefront of everyone's mind.

"You'll find out," Anderson leered. "And if YOU don't shut up, you won't live long enough to!" he snapped at Condom Lady, who was sobbing hysterically under her breath. She cut off mid-sob with a strangled gulp as the gunman's attention swung to her.

"It's hardly her fault that she's terrified," Iain said, testily. "If you're going..." his voice faded for a moment, then, "Hah-ISSHHX! HUPSCHHIH!" They were violent sneezes - when he sneezed, I could hear the congestion in his chest, which inexplicably concerned me. Iain, however, seemed to regard it as not much more than a nuisance, shifting slightly beside me.

"If you're going to come in here and terrorize us -" He was again interrupted, but not by his nose this time. The gunman strode towards him in one quick movement, and smashed the butt of the gun against Iain's temple, eliciting a grunt of pain from Iain and a small scream from me.

"Get your hand out of your pocket," Anderson snarled. "Show me what you have."

Despite the force of the blow, Iain answered him steadily, even managing to let some annoyance show in his voice.

"Tissues," he said shortly, bringing up another crumpled cocktail napkin. He sniffled again, wetly.

My breath caught, because from my position, I could see something that the gunman could not - the light of the screen of Iain's cell phone in the pocket where his hand had been. A second later the screen light faded off, but maybe, just maybe, Iain had managed to dial for help. I prayed that the gunman wouldn't notice. He seemed pacified by Iain's answer, however - probably convinced because Iain's voice was quickly becoming hoarser.

Iain lifted the napkin not to his nose but to his temple. When he took it away, it was wet with blood. I felt slightly queasy. All Iain did was look displeased. He sniffled again, and rubbed at his nose with one knuckle. I realized his problem - he'd just gotten blood (his blood, at that) all over his last napkin.

I startled myself by speaking up. "Can you throw us a box of tissues?" I asked Anderson, as politely as I could manage. "Please."

He just looked at me, uncomprehending.

"He's bleeding," I pointed out. And he looked like he needed to blow his nose, from the way he was sniffling, one finger pressed against his nose.

"My name's Amber," I said, idiotically, the only peace offering I could give. Unexpectedly, it moved the gunman to throw a box of Kleenex on the floor in front of us. Iain made no move to reach towards it. Whether that was due to apprehension or arrogance, I couldn't tell, but I was willing to be on the latter.

"For heaven's sake," I grumbled to myself, and reached to tear open the box and grab a handful of tissues. I passed a couple to Condom Lady to wipe her tears and proffered the rest to Iain who accepted them quickly enough.

He held them up to his nose, but stayed frozen in that position, his breathing unsteady until finally, he sneezed harshly.

"...hng...h'hh...h'ISHXIH! IISHNGK!"

He winced despite himself, looking slightly dazed.

"Hey," I said, concerned. "Are you ok? I mean-" What I meant was, apart from the hostage situation and the blow to the head and the increasingly nasty cold, was he enjoying his Sunday night?

He seemed to appreciate the sentiment, though. His mouth twisted in an ironic smile. "Never been bet... HahITKSCH!"

At that moment, red and blue lights rippled across the room. I swear my heart skipped a beat out of sheer relief. Cops.

Anderson swore, pointing the gun at each of us in turn. "The fuck did you do that for?" he hissed. "Do you have a fucking deathwish? If I find out who called the cops, I'll blow their fucking brains out."

But before anyone could answer this confidence-inspiring outburst, the gunman had aimed the gun at one of the punk kids.

"Tell you what," he grinned maniacally. "I'm a reasonable guy. Get your cell phone. I'll give you each oned last phone call. Give you a chance to say your goodbyes, even though I never got that chance. Go!"

Punk Kid's fingers trembled, but he did as he was told. I didn't hear a word of what they said. My thoughts were whirring too loudly in m head. My parents were in Europe, my brother in Australia. I didn't even know if they'd have reception. I decided, in the end, to leave a message on Mom and Dad's answering machine at home.

"Hey Mom... Dad... Ben... I just called to say I love you, ok?" God, how was I supposed to put a lifetime of meaning into a minute-long phone call? "Just... I love you a lot. I love you."

I clicked the phone shut, feeling oddly surreal, and passed it to Iain. He glared at the gunman, rapidly dialed a number, and paused.

"Hey. It's me... hahTSXCHH! Excuse me." He sniffled, then coughed, trying to clear the congestion in his throat. "I won't be able to make it into the lab for the next few days. DF7.3 is still in testing. I don't care if the President of the United States demands it, you are NOT to release it before the program finishes. Em, try it with that new circuitry. Lee, you know where the notes are. I think we've nailed it this time." His voice became softer. "Good work, guys."

And he hung up.

Just like that.

I gaped at him. Either he was a ridiculous optimist, or he'd just used his last phone call on Earth to give orders about DF7.3, whatever that was. Was he even human?

He certainly looked human right then, though. His head rested against the doors of the fridge behind him, and his eyes were closed. He looked utterly exhausted, and I realized that, between his illness and the bruise on his temple, he probably had one hell of a headache. Not to mention that he had started shivering violently, what with sitting on the freezing tiles and him only wearing a shirt, without even a sweater on.

I hesitated for only a moment before shrugging off my coat. I still had two layers on underneath, plus a scarf, and Iain undoubtedly needed it more. I touched his hand to get his attention. His skin was the temperature of the tiles beneath us. I winced. He forced his eyes open.

"Here," I said, draping the coat around his shoulders as best I could.

Iain opened his mouth to refuse, but sneezed instead, a harsh sound that came all the way from his chest.

"h'NGHKSH! ... heh-HMFGSHXT! ...hah...haah..." His breath hitched in urgent misery. "H'mCHIXSHU!" His whole body shuddered with the force of the last one. He didn't bother to re-open his eyes, but murmured "Excuse me" to us, weariness evident in his voice. The rasp of his breathing was too loud in the unnatural silence.

I sighed and settled my coat over him as best I could.

It was either going to be a very long night or a very short one.

[The Sneezster]

OK, Ash, you've piqued my interest here. Very nice first post. I look forward to reading more from you.

Welcome aboard.

[Gallatea]

Fantastic! I can't wait for the next part--and welcome to the SFF!

Edited October 14, 2007 by Lady_Gallatea_Ravenclaw

[girl_in_love]

Yeah! I agree, I cant wait to read the next part! Welcome to the SFF!!!

Love

~*Jillo*~

[countless]

VERY promising !!

C

[Guest Posaune]

WOAH! What a great first post, Ash! This story is just... mmm, awesome. Iian rocks, and Amber is written very well. Please continue this as soon as you're able.

[starpollen]

Um...... I guess I just have one little bitty comment... and that is... a resounding HELL YES.

This is great. Keep going, and if cashier girl gets to go home with BusinIce Man, even better.

Thanks, and I'll be checking frequently for the rest!!

[K.Matsuri]

Ooh, fantastic! Such suspense - I can't wait to see what happens next! I agree with the others, awesome first post!!

[count tiszula]

Golly indeed! It's not often we get something where the plot is just as thrilling as the sneezing. REally exciting in every way.

And welcome to the forum.

[tma]

Wow!! This is absolutely Fantastic. Really different type of situation- Iain is sexy as hell. Just the tone of voice of Amber- just fantastic!!

Have to quote some of my fav. parts...

Given the fact that it was long past midnight and his voice was growing hoarser with every word, I would have thought sleep would have been a good thing. Obviously not.

That was just Great the phrasing on that.

"

Hey," I said, concerned. "Are you ok? I mean-" What I meant was, apart from the hostage situation and the blow to the head and the increasingly nasty cold, was he enjoying his Sunday night?

He seemed to appreciate the sentiment, though. His mouth twisted in an ironic smile. "Never been bet... HahITKSCH!"

Brilliant!!

Also- the phone call that he made- I love how you made me go "awww!!" want to snuggle Iain, want to question his humanity, and just made me wonder what the deal was with DF7.3 simulateously. You seriously ROCK!

Am looking forward to more. Thank you So much!

[Elle]

Wow! This is really freaking awesome! This guy's attitude combined with his sneezes, makes him incredibly hot!!! Can't wait for more!!

[Sneesee]

This story ROCKS! Can't wait to read more. Simply amazing writing! Welcome to the forum, glad to see you jumped right in!

[stargazer]

This is great. I can't wait for more.

[starpollen]

Hot HOT HOT!! I re-read it, and am demanding more. MORE I SAY!

Seriously, this is great writing. Great characters. We just have to know WHAT HAPPENS NEXT! Don't leave us hangin, man!!...

[Spoo]

I've fallen in love with everything about this fic. It's brilliant! I'm glad to have made my 100th post here.

---> Spoodles~

[polychrome]

Very creative and nicely written. I love the danger and the strength of the characters.

[ellwren]

Very well written and engaging. I can't wait for the next part.

[starpollen]

Anxiously waiting!... checking back frequently to see if you've posted another part...

Congrats for writing such a good fic that we are on tenterhooks waiting for more!

[SunnyCaliGirl]

Holy taboo topic-bumping...

But this was a story that I LOVED while I was lurking and for weeks afterward would check back to see if updated. Doesn't look like its gonna be. I still loved it! Ash, you have a wonderful writing style.