Author: LadyChatonLa'mour PM
Wesley has a new trainer, known only as the Gymnast. She trains him, but Wesley feels he isn't the only one being left in the dark. Rating will change to M later on.Rated: Fiction T - English - Chapters: 3 - Words: 3,828 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 2 - Follows: 12 - Updated: 06-12-11 - Published: 05-11-11 - id: 6983962
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: I do not own Wanted or any of it's characters, only the Gymnast.
Alright! Chapter 3! So excited! Thank you to all who read! I hope I don't let you down and you continue to enjoy!
Calibre: Chapter 3
The walk into the city was pleasant, the air pleasantly dry compared to the uncomfortable humidity of the past week. The Chevy dealership on the outskirts of the city square was open early, and with some sweet words and "accidental" pen dropping, a car was lovingly borrowed to the nice couple who had come in early. Posion Green '09 Camaro, as promised. Theirs for two days.
The Gymnast tossed the keys to Wesley, hopping in the passenger seat with one last wave to the salesman. Wesley couldn't keep the smile from his face as the V-8 SS purred beneath him, the steering responding obediently to his turns and the gas roaring when he needed it to do so. After around fifteen minutes of driving- and standing out in a crowd of white, silver, and black cars- they pulled into the parking lot of a Starbucks that was across the train stop.
Wesley's teacher looked at him and smiled when she saw his happy expression. They didn't get to have much fun with their job, so these occasional days off were absolutely wonderful. Almost better than vacation. "Careful, kiddo. Smile too much and your face might get stuck like that.", she said with a laugh.
"Sorry," he said with a laugh of his own, "This is just turning to be the best day I've had in a long time."
"Well, sweetheart, it's just getting started. Is this where your formers get off?", she asked, taking a seat by the window. She'd taken to calling his ex and his former best friend his 'formers'. It was appropriately put.
"Yep, in about five minutes.", he said, taking a seat across from her. The plan had been to show his ex just what she was missing, and his friend what he was capable of. "But I have to ask. Why did you borrow the Camaro for two days instead of one?"
She took a sip from her coffee, and set it down, moving the glasses to her head. "Because if I had gotten it for only one, we'd have to return it at 6 tonight. And we need something awesome to drive tonight. I told you, this day is only getting started."
Five minutes passed easily before the train came to a loud, screeching stop across the tracks. At the moment, Wesley was making sure to follow his teacher's instruction to put some whipped cream from his drink on the corner of his mouth. When the moment came, about thirty seconds after his ex and friend got off the platform, she leaned forward and slowly licked it off, making sure to kiss his forehead before sitting back in the chair.
Wesley's breath caught in his throat, having her that close to him. He could smell her perfume, feel the small brush of her bangs on his face, and not to mention view he got of her neck and shoulder. He could feel the blush creep to his face, his heart skip a beat, and his hand moving to her wrist as she moved back, interlacing his fingers with hers. He didn't even care about his ex's face, or Barry's for that matter. She gave him a little smile, nonchalantly waving to the two gawking pedestrians in the middle of the street who didn't even move until a car almost ran them over.
When they were gone, the teacher and student finished their drinks, then headed out. "Good performance, Wes! You should have seen their faces, it was priceless!", she complimented as they got in the car.
Wesley still didn't say anything, only started the car and let it rumble to life under his hand. "So. Where to now?", he asked, looking over to her as he rolled down the windows.
She didn't even skip a beat. "Shopping district. While I understand wanting to wear your father's clothes to feel closer to him, you need jeans. I can't even believe I let you out of the compound without a pair of jeans on."
He just laughed, heading that direction. She was right, though, all he had were his father's clothes, consisting mainly of oxford shirts, sweaters, and slacks with dress shoes. But it wasn't like Fox had given him a chance to pack his running shoes before snatching him at the pharmacy.
Meanwhile, The Gymnast sat quietly in her seat, thinking. She couldn't figure out why Wesley was put in Cross' room and told it was his father's. Cross didn't have a son, or at least he didn't to the best of her knowledge. They had told each other everything, becoming best friends quickly after her initiation. He was the only one in the order who knew her actual name.
She was snapped out of her thoughts by Wesley calling her, possibly for the third or fourth time, and gently putting his hand on her shoulder. His hand was warm, a warmth that seemed to crawl into her flesh. She smiled at him though, apologizing for zoning out.
"Are you alright?", Wesley asked, giving her a concerned face. She nodded again, setting a hand on his. "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm fine. I zone out sometimes."
"Alright, you just looked really serious…", he said quietly.
She just laughed again and rubbed his hand. "I'm fine. Promise. Now come on, let's go shopping for you.", she said, hopping out of the car and waving over to him to come into the store. He chuckled and got out, alarming the car, and followed her into the store.
Four hours were spent shopping, and they made a break in the money spending- divided equally between both of them insisting to pay- to get lunch at a rooftop restaurant in the middle of the city. They'd successfully filled the car with bags of Wesley's new clothes (which isn't hard if you havn't seen the back seat of a Camaro. THERE IS NO SPACE.)
They were playing Truth or Dare and it was Wesley's turn to ask.
"Truth.", his teacher responded easily.
"How long did it take you to learn to curve bullets?", he asked, taking a bite of a burger he'd ordered.
She hesitated, licking her lips as she usually did when she was slightly nervous. "I never did. I can't curve bullets. That's why I specialize in getting close. I can shoot straight, I'm a good shot, but I can't curve bullets."
Wesley just looked at her for a moment. She smiled and shrugged it off, continuing as they ate and walked the rest of the day. At midnight, after refueling on coffee, they went to a nightclub called Purgatory that was having 'Angel Night', a night where all of it's patrons were to wear nothing but white.
And after three hours of drinking, dancing, and having fun for the first time in days, Wesley was officially out of gas. The Gymnast was as well, and they drove carefully back home. She walked him to his room, and he just barely got his shoes and shirt off before falling asleep into bed. The woman beside him chuckled slightly and kissed his forehead. His breathing was even and his face was flushed from the exertion of the day.
She looked at him for a minute longer before smoothing the hair back from his eyes. She leaned down to his ear and sighed quietly. "Terra. My name is Terra. Goodnight, Wesley.", she said with a smile.
Terra was on her way out when Wesley let out a small laugh in his sleep. "Goodnight, Terra."
She smiled and shook her head before walking out, making sure to close his door. She'd hear about all this tomorrow, but she didn't really care. She got to know her student and have fun while doing it. And whether or not he'd remember in the morning, he was now the second person that knew her name.