Far From Oblivion || One-on-One || Caebeeb and Pirate

Rylan glanced at Clark as he spoke, a smile ghosting over her lips, "Shut up, Clark." She stood outside for awhile longer after he got back in the car. She stared off into the distance, thinking about anything and everything in general. When the cold began gnawing at her, she finally headed back to the passenger door, grabbing her bag along the way. She got in quietly, grabbing a couple of her sweatshirts out before tossing the bag in the back seat. She glanced at her partner, rolling her eyes before she tossed one of her sweatshirts over his upper body, knowing he'd get cold. She leaned her seat back, covering herself with her other sweatshirt before drifting off to sleep curled up in a tight ball, already cold.

Heath took a sip of his water as it was set before him. He reached for his toast, about to take a bite as she broached the subject he'd been dreading. He seemed to flinch slightly at her question, glancing up at her. He sighed, "Yeah, I probably shouldn't do anything right away." He glanced down at his plate, his brow furrowed. "I don't know where we go from here. I guess just keep surveillance on his usual spots and see where that takes us." He took a bite of his toast, deep in thought. He finished him breakfast a few minutes later, clearing their dishes. "So, I don't know all that much about you," he said casually as he cleaned the plates, wanting to move to lighter topic for a few minutes. "Have any family? A boyfriend? Maybe a dark past?" He glanced at her as he dried off his hands, "I mean, I know how you French can be," he said with a small grin before heading into the living room to grab his glasses.

[That's a good question. I'm going to go with wing it. XD]

Rylan awoke at dawn, opening her eyes to the sun's long rays reaching across the forest floor. She sat up stiffly, stretching out her sore neck as she glanced out the window. She turned her eyes to Clark for a moment before quietly opening the door. She stood up, gratefully stretching her sore body. She leaned against the car door, thinking over the previous days events. A thought struck her; Dvorkin wanted the contents of his safe back. But what for? It only contained a bunch of useless receipts and a few copies of various business correspondences. She furrowed her brow, reaching into the car and grabbing the small black bag. She pulled out the various papers and set them on the hood of the car, using her flashlight so she could see everything better. She set everything in order by date, focusing on the more recent e-mails that had been sent and received since Baskov had been abducted. She read the e-mails several times, but they held no information, which frustrated her. She frowned, flipping through them again when she noticed a small set of numbers on the bottom of three seperate pages that she hadn't seen before. She focused on the numbers for a moment, a pattern suddenly occurring to her. She grabbed a pen from her suitcase, writing down the numbers in the correct order on the back of a receipt. She gathered all of the papers, placing them back in the bag before she got back in the car, nudging Clark with her elbow. "Goodmorning, Sleeping Beauty," she said brightly, excitement glinting in her eyes as she hoped she'd be redeeming herself. "I looked over the papers from Dvorkin's safe again." She offered him the receipt, "They're coordinates. I think it might be where they're keeping Baskov," she said quickly, the smile never fading from her lips.

Heath grabbed his glasses as she began to speak, putting them on as he turned to face her. He folded his arms across his chest as she said she wasn't involved with anyone, a slight smirk pulling up the corners of his lips. "A pretty girl like you? With no boyfriend? How strange," he chuckled, feeling oddly at ease with her. That didn't happen often. He shut down and kept quiet around most people, but it was as though Sophia was baiting him out of his shell. He nodded, "Ah, boarding school. I should have known." He was a bit surprised that she didn't bother to question him about his past, but he didn't press the matter. He sighed slightly as she offered to get a movie, glancing away. "Yeah, sounds like a good idea." He headed into the kitchen, grabbing his pain medication and reading the label. He took two more pills, checking the time as he washed them down with a swig of water. He was pretty good at disguising just how much pain he was in. He leaned back against the counter, folding his arms as he stared out the window at the parking lot, his lips set in a frown. He felt useless. They couldn't continue their mission because he had gotten shot. Now they had to wait for him to heal before anything could be done and Sophia had to run around and do the errands for him. He huffed a sigh, his eyes stormy with annoyance at himself.

Rylan frowned slightly at Clark's lack of enthusiasm, tilting her head to one side when he zoned out. She sighed softly, raising a brow as he asked for the coordinates. Instead of giving them to him, she tossed the sweater at him, "Not until you wake up," she teased. A smirk worked its way onto her lips as she gazed at him. She poked his side lightly, in an oddly good mood. Having solved a part of the case had lifted her spirits. She leaned closer, prodding his chest. "Do you need some more beauty rest, darling?" she chuckled. "Has it been awhile?" she asked with a grin. She laughed softly, leaning her shoulder against his as she plucked his phone from his hands, entering the coordinates herself before handing the device back to him. "There. Where does it take us to?" she asked curiously, not noticing how close her face was to his as she peered at his phone.

Heath was surprised at the kiss she placed on his cheek, pulling his eyes from the window. His eyes softened as she spoke, a slight smile pulling up his lips. When she hesitated, he started to speak, but she disappeared to change before he could say anything. He furrowed his brow slightly. He nodded as she left, glancing over at her, "Be careful," he murmured softly. He watched her leave before changing into a pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt. He sat down on the couch to wait for her. When she took longer than he expected, he got to his feet, heading to the kitchen and leaning against the counter once more. Worry etched onto his face as he waited for her, afraid that something had happened. As he heard the door open, he straightened up, turning toward it. When she walked in he let out a breath of relief. He frowned slightly at her explanation, not saying anything for a moment. "That took an awfully long time," he murmured, but eventually accepted her words. He took the bag of movies from her, sifting through them. He pulled out a new action flick, glancing at her for her input. He popped it in to the player before sitting down beside her. He draped his arm behind her across the couch, glancing down at her momentarily before focusing his eyes back on the TV. As the movie continued her dropped his arm to her shoulders, resting his hand on her shoulder as he pulled her against his side.

Rylan's happy mood immediately dissipated at Clark's reaction. She frowned, sitting up so that her back was against her seat. "You're a real ass, you know that?" She read off the directions curtly as she was told, sitting quietly for the rest of the ride, staring straight ahead. She didn't know why she bothered to try and get along with him. She hadn't been nice to start, so why stop now? As they neared the location she sat up, noticing a few men in the distance. "Stop," she said shortly, her eyes on the men. When he stopped the car she turned, grabbing her bag. She shuffled around, pulling out her gun and pocket knife as well as two extra clips and a small black case. She got quietly out of the car, watching the men ahead. They hadn't seemed to notice them. A third man joined the group; it looked to be Dvorkin. She couldn't help but smirk slightly, glad that she had found the coordinates. One of the first two men bent down, lifting something up before the three men disappeared into the ground, a heavy door slamming shut behind them. She frowned, knowing that they would hear them as soon as they opened the door. She sighed, her brow furrowed as she formulated some sort of plan.

Heath was startled as Sophia got abruptly to her feet, leaning away from her slightly in surprise. He stared up at her, stunned into an awkward silence himself. He gave a small nod at her words, watching quietly as she stepped out the front door. He glanced down at his hands, hurt at her reaction, but knowing that she was right. He was just her partner. That was all he could be. They had a job to do. Why would she like someone like him, anyway? He had scars. He came with baggage. His previous partner had died. He couldn't even protect his current partner when she needed him most. She was a hair shy of perfect, whereas he was miles from it. It was some twisted version of Beauty and the Beast. He took off his glasses, rubbing his hand down his face. Even his eyes failed him. He wasn't good at showing affection. Obviously. He'd never seen someone move so fast to get away from him. But they had a job to do. A serious, dangerous job. Either of them could be seriously hurt at any moment. There wasn't time for relationships. What had he been thinking? He shook his head, more angry with himself than he had been before. He got stiffly to his feet, ignoring the dull pain that travelled through his body. He shut off the TV, hesitating for a moment. He finally put his glasses back on before grabbing his holster and a thick black jacket, pulling on a pair of tennis shoes shortly after. He tucked his other gun into his holster before sliding a switchblade into his pocket. He needed some air. He stepped out the front door, avoiding looking at his partner as he headed away from her, crossing the parking lot. He headed toward the street, moving down the sidewalk.

Rylan glanced up as Clark headed to the bunker's trap door, eying him for a moment. She didn't respond to her partner right away, thinking it over before she nodded. "Alright," she agreed heading over to the door. "Drop it in, and we wait for them to come to us." She waited for him to get his things before giving a quick nod of her head to signal that she was ready. In one quick movement, she lifted the door, waiting for him to drop in the stun grenade before she quickly dropped the heavy metal, allowing it to clang shut. She retreated to the nearby bushes, hearing shouts from beneath her feet as the device went off. She crouched down behind a bush, raising her gun as she focused on the door. A few moments passed before the door was flung up and one of the men stuck out the nose of a machine pistol, shooting it off in a wide arc. As the bullets whizzed past, Rylan dropped back behind a nearby tree, glancing across to see if her partner was alright. She refrained from returning fire, waiting instead for the man to finally poke his head and shoulders out. He slowly climbed out of the bunker, glancing all around. Rylan leaned out, taking aim and hitting the large man in the kneecap. He went down with a howl of pain just as Dvorkin stepped out, raising his hands defensively to show he didn't have a weapon. He glanced at the fallen man, shaking his head. "Idiot," he muttered before turning his eyes to the bushes. "Miss Abigail, my sweet, you can come out now." Rylan glanced at Clark once more before getting to her feet, her weapon raised. She turned her eyes from Dvorkin to the man on the ground as he reached for his weapon. Dvorkin frowned, kicking him in the hip, his hands still raised. "No, no, no shooting beautiful American. We only need to talk things out." The man gave his boss a dumbfounded look, but slowly dropped the weapon as Dvorkin stared him down. Rylan cautiously walked closer, splitting glances between the two men. She approached Dvorkin, glancing down at the bunker as she did, waiting for the third man to appear. "He is with our friend. The one I assume you are looking for, my sweet," Dvorkin explained, watching Rylan and paying no mind to where Clark might be, presuming he was around there somewhere. Rylan turned her eyes to Dvorkin, within arms length now as she reached out to apprehend him. Dvorkin reacted quickly, snatching her arm and bending it painfully before jerking her against his body, pulling the gun from her hand and drawing a knife from his back pocket. Rylan struggled in his grasp, but was shocked into remaining still as she felt the knife sink into her back, just above her hip, a pained look crossing her features. "I think knives are more painful, don't you?" Dvorkin murmured as he held her in front of him like a human shield, glancing around for the woman's partner. "Get back in your car and leave, or she dies," he warned in his heavy accent. He dug the knife in further as if to prove a point, causing Rylan to arch away from him, a pained cry escaping her lips as she clawed against the restraining arm he had around her shoulders. Dvorkin backed toward the bunker, moving quickly as he pulled her with him. He shoved her into the bunker opening before he quickly took the ladder down, slamming the door shut behind him. Rylan landed awkwardly, having fallen the short distance, the wind knocked from her lungs. She had somehow managed to twist around so that the knife didn't imbed itself deeper into her back. Dvorkin drug her into the middle of the small space, muttering something to the third man in Russian before he turned to his original prisoner. Baskov was gagged and bound to a chair in the corner, his body covered in blood and bruises, his clothes rumpled and dirty. The other man working for Dvorkin roughly tied Rylan's arms behind her back, though she struggled with him nonetheless. The man finally kicked her in the stomach to settle her down. On the outside, the man Dvorkin had left behind looked utterly confused, but he reached for his weapon in a hurry.

[xD Lol, sorry, kinda left Clark out of that one. You know, Rylan just had to take the lead.]

Heath frowned as his partner caught up to him, never once looking at her as she spoke. He finally sighed, coming to a stop. Though he wouldn't admit it, the movement caused his wounds to ache and he was already getting winded. He noticed her shivering with an even deeper frown, pulling off his jacket. He placed it on her shoulders before adjusting his holster so that the gun was hidden beneath his arm. "Don't worry, it's just a jacket. Try not to freak out," he muttered sharply as he walked past her once more, this time heading back to the apartment. He walked inside, leaving the door open for her before he went to pull off his shoes and put his weapons away.

[Haha, okay. xD I can change the scene if it's too difficult to respond to.]

Heath avoided looking at Sophia as she walked in. When she disappeared into the bedroom, he snatched his jacket from the chair, stuffing it into his bag. He didn't know what to do with himself now, so he decided to head back outside, lowering himself to the ground slowly and carefully near the door. He stared out at the parking lot, fairly certain that no one would be bothering them. He watched as the sky began to darken, his expression blank as he thought over their mission, forcing Sophia out of his mind. He didn't mean to be bitter about it, but he was. As a starry blanket covered the sky it finally dawned on him just how long he had been out there. He was freezing and he needed to take his medication; he could feel the pain entering his body again. He frowned as his stomach growled, but made no move to stand. The cold air cleared his head, and it would only get fogged up if he faced Sophia.

Rylan sat silently against the wall, her eyes locked on Dvorkin as he spoke quietly to Baskov. She clenched her jaw, anger in her eyes. She couldn't believe that the man had fooled her. Dvorkin slowly turned to Rylan, striding over to her and crouching before her. "How long do you think it will take your little boy-toy to come down here?" he murmured as he stroked her cheek. Rylan jerked her head away, her eyes hostile, her mouth shut. Dvorkin frowned, "How will you like it when I kill him right in front of you? I've always preferred knives and fists over guns. They're so barbaric. So maybe I'll slit his throat, and you can watch him bleed out. And you'll know that you are the reason for his death. You were stupid enough to walk right over to me," he chuckled, sneering at her. Rylan bristled, "Go to hell," she spat, guilt flowing through her as she realized that Clark would most likely come after her. Dvorkin grinned, "I plan on it." Just then, the stun grenade was dropped into the space. Dvorkin grunted, falling against the wall as he was blinded, his ears ringing. Rylan squeezed her eyes shut, the sound knocking around in the bunker, hitting her with full force. Dvorkin's man managed to get to his feet, stumbling toward the hatch just as Clark dropped down. He froze as he felt the cold metal pressed to his temple, his senses finally coming back to him. He smirked at Clark's threat, raising his arm, planning on shooting him in the stomach. Dvorkin got to his feet, dragging Rylan up with him. Her ears were still ringing as she was pressed to the man's body. Dvorkin smiled across the small space at Clark, his eyes taunting. "How nice of you to join us!" He pulled the knife from Rylan's body, wiping off her blood on the side of her shirt. Rylan flinched, pain flickering across her face. She stared over at her partner, an apology in her eyes. Dvorkin pricked her collarbone with the tip of the knife, drawing the blade down over her chest, pausing over her heart. He turned Rylan's head toward him with his free hand, grasping her chin between his first finger and thumb, still holding her in front of him. He gave her a chaste kiss, pulling back to smile at her. Rylan clenched her jaw, breathing heavily as anger filled her again. Dvorkin smiled, glancing at Clark, "She's a catch. Nice lips. Nice body. Tell me, have you two, uh?" he asked nonchalantly as he gestured with the knife. Rylan twisted in his grip, sending her elbow into his ribs, "You pig", she snarled. Dvorkin growled, jamming the knife between her ribs. Rylan grunted, tears stinging the back of her eyes. "My sweet, please, I'm merely trying to make conversation." Rylan stayed still for a moment, glancing over at her partner. She took a breath before jerking to one side, kneeing her captor in the hip. "Take the shot!" she yelled as Dvorkin reached to pull her close once again.

Heath glanced up as Sophia opened the door and came outside. He sighed as she sat beside him, turning his eyes back to the parking lot. At first, he thought she was going to just sit there and enjoy the silence with him. When she began to speak, he stayed quiet, allowing her to tell her story. He wasn't sure what to say, his brow furrowing. He finally got to his feet, wincing slightly as he offered her his hand with a shake of his head. "Don't worry about it. There's nothing to be had between us, anyway. I was just being stupid," he murmured, offering her a slight smile. He helped her to her feet before heading inside, not saying anything else. He wasn't good at this. He wasn't good at talking to people about their feelings. He wasn't good at comforting people. He could only offer physical gestures, and she had made it obvious that she didn't want to be touched, explanation or not. He made his way into the kitchen to take his medication, his body aching.

The bullet struck Dvorkin in the throat, causing the man to stumble back, clutching at his neck as blood seeped through his fingers. His eyes bulged as he slid down the wall, choking as he bled out. He finally stilled, his lifeless eyes focused on Clark. Rylan, a bit stunned, stepped away from the man, yanking the knife from her side. She threw it with force into the corner, her eyes wild with anger. Anger at both Dvorkin and herself. She ignored her pain, turning and heading over to the bound and gagged Baskov. She crouched behind the startled man, wincing slightly as she untied his hands and legs before pulling the cloth from his mouth. He split a glance between the partners, his eyes wide and uncertain. Rylan gave him forced smile, "We'll be taking you home now, sir." Baskov appeared hesitant, but relieved. He nodded, and Rylan eased him to his feet, helping him limp to the ladder. As he climbed out, Rylan turned to Clark, still angry with herself. "Thank you. I owe you my life," she murmured genuinely. Placing a hand lightly on his chest, she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, pulling away to climb out of the bunker. She helped lead Baskov back to their car, fishing her phone from her bag. She dialed the number for the Institute, grabbing her first aid kit as she did. As the call was answered, Rylan gave the case number and asked that transportation be provided, as well as a clean-up detail. She gave their coordinates before hanging up. Being in a secluded clearing had its advantages; they could be picked up right from there and Baskov would be escorted home. She pushed her phone into her back pocket before placing the first-aid kit on the hood of the car. She attended to some of Baskov's major wounds while they waited for their helicopter. When she was finished, she half-heartedly cleaned her wounds, a bitter self-loathing still churning within her. She had been foolish, she hadn't been paying enough attention. After awhile, she glanced up at the familiar sound of blades slicing through the air, the treetops swaying as their transportation finally arrived. As the helicopter landed, Rylan helped Baskov over, watching as a few people exited and began dispatching the bodies. When Baskov was inside, she headed back to the car to grab her things. Once both spies boarded the chopper, the pilot eased them into the air. After landing on the massive expanse of green that was the Baskov's front yard, and watching as he stumbled off the helicopter into the waiting arms of his family, the pilot headed back to the Swiss Alps. Rylan sat silently for the duration of the ride, beating herself up for her own stupidity. She had put Clark in the danger and had risked the mission. What had happened? She never screwed up.
Two days after their arrival back at the Institute, Rylan mentally prepared herself for their debriefing in an hour. The events of the past few days had her shaken up. She had woken up last night in a cold sweat, Dvorkin's death playing out in her dream. Pushing aside the thoughts, she showered, allowing the hot water to wash over her sore wounds. After she got out and attended to her injuries, she changed into black slacks and a flowy white blouse. She topped off the outfit with a tailored red blazer and black heels. She dried her hair and allowed it to flow freely around her shoulders. After applying minimal make-up, she headed out of her room, her typed notes in hand. She headed to the conference room, waiting outside for Clark. She hadn't seen him since she had fled the helicopter, angry and in pain. When her partner joined her, she avoided his gaze. "They're going to rip me apart," she sighed, mainly speaking to herself, "I just hope they don't ask for my resignation." Her track record was flawless, except for her latest mission.

Heath glanced over as she eyed the contents of the 'fridge, nodding his head at her words. He wasn't hungry, anyway. He watched as she left the room after finishing her yogurt before he dropped his gaze to the counter. When she came back out, his eyes snapped up, and he frowned as she said she was leaving. "Sophia, I don't think that's a good idea. You shouldn't--," he was cut off as the front door closed. He sighed, knowing she wouldn't listen to him. He sat down on the couch, deciding to follow her instructions and try to get some rest. He stretched himself out, tossing the blanket haphazardly across his body. He figured she would no longer want to share the bed with him, so he tried to get comfortable on the couch. He managed to find a position that didn't aggravate his injuries, closing his eyes. Sleep would not come right away; he was too worried about his partner being out alone. However exhaustion took over, and he slipped into a deep sleep a few minutes before Sophia got back, she being the last thought on his mind.

Rylan glanced up at her partner as he spoke, a frown on her lips. "Were we on the same mission? I screwed up and it nearly got us both kil--", she was cut off by the door opening, a hard-faced woman setting the pair with a steely gaze. "We're ready for you," she stated curtly before turning on her heel and heading into the room, taking her seat with four other people, all elite, well-known spies at the Institute. Henry sat in the middle, his hands folded as he gave the couple a slight smile. Rylan stepped into the room, taking a seat across from the intimidating group. The same woman who let them in, looking to be in her early forties, set her cool gaze on Rylan before glancing down at the report in front of her. "So, according to this, Baskov made it home, which was the objective." Before Rylan could speak, the woman lifted her eyes to the young woman, "But you ran across a few problems, it seems. That's surprising for you, Miss Collins, considering your impeccable track record." She turned her eyes back to the papers in front of her, flipping to the next page. "It says here that Dvorkin and his men found your location. How is that?" Rylan floundered for a moment before managing to speak, "I don't know how," she said honestly. The woman frowned, "Surely you have some explanation." Rylan shook her head, "I followed my training. My face was covered. My hair was up. I was wearing pants and long sleeves...gloves... There was no way they could have figured out who I was when I went into the house that night. They could have only found us if they followed us--". The woman cut her off, "Who was driving?" Rylan blinked, "Clark was, but--". The woman stopped her once more, "So you're blaming this on your partner?" she accused. Rylan tensed, "No, that's not at all what I'm saying! With the speed at which we were traveling, they wouldn't have been able to get a vehicle and follow us in time. And Clark is an excellent driver." The woman smiled, "Miss Collins, didn't you protest to having Mr. Miller as your partner?" Rylan frowned, "Yes--." The woman shook her head, "And yet you are the one who approached a dangerous man, let your guard down, and put the entire operation at risk." Rylan flinched slightly, "I was moving to apprehend the suspect--". The woman sat up slightly, "But did you or did you not get apprehended yourself? Did you or did you not risk the lives of everyone involved?" Rylan stiffened, her shoulders shaking slightly as the woman berated her, "That was not what I intend--". The woman shook her head, "Yes or no." Rylan was quiet for a moment, finally dropping her eyes to the table, her hands clenched into fists on her lap. "Yes," she said quietly. As the woman opened her mouth the speak again, Mr. Falcon raised a hand, "Enough, Helen." The woman pressed her lips into a thin line, the other spies around her shifting uncomfortably. Henry turned his eyes to Clark, "Do you believe that you two are still an effective pair?" he asked simply. He didn't doubt their partnership. They had been specifically chosen for each other, and he knew that they were a good team. He didn't plan on separating them.


[I'm assuming she's by the couch. xD]

Heath awoke in the middle of the night to a sharp pain in his a abdomen, pushing himself into a sitting position with a soft groan. He got to his feet, intending to go take his medication. He didn't know Sophia was sleeping beside the couch, and he tripped over her leg, falling ungracefully. He caught himself with a grunt, holding himself up with his muscular arms, not wanting to land on his partner and crush her. He stared down at her, letting out a shaky breath at both the pain in his body and the proximity he was to her. "God, Sophia. Are you okay?" he murmured, chuckling softly as he hovered over her. His eyes dropped to her lips for a split second, the temptation to kiss her suddenly far too great. A hard look masked his face as he quickly hid his emotions. "Why are you on the floor?" he growled, a bit harshly. He pushed himself away from her, wincing as he got to his feet. He made his way into the kitchen to take his pills before he headed back to the couch, stepping around her. He sighed as he sat down, turning his eyes to his partner. "Sophia, go take the bed," he murmured, gentler this time, exhaustion in his voice. He was tired and uncomfortable and just wanted to sleep.