hannah_chapter1

Title: Run Part VII
Author: hannah_chapter
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: PG
Summary: AU. LA, 1951. Dominic Howard is an average guy living an average life. Until a blue-eyed stranger jumps into his car and holds him at gunpoint...
Feedback: Yes please.
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse, I just like to have fantasy orgies with them. And David Tennant. And Matt Smith. And Russell Howard. And Nathan Fillion. And Chris Evans. And Brandon Routh.  And almost the entire male cast of True Blood. It's getting crowded in there.


"Matthew!"

The man in the door grabs Matthew by the shoulders and kisses him on both cheeks. He releases Matthew and turns his attention to me. I hang back, not wanting to be kissed by a strange man; I just know Matthew will spend the rest of the day making jokes about it. It falls to Matthew to make the introductions.

Dominic, this is Danny, we work together from time to time. Danny, this is Dominic. He's ... a friend of mine."

"Pleased to meet you," Danny gives my hand a token squeeze as he ushers us inside, "any friend of Matthew's is a friend of mine."

He leads us into a large kitchen and gets right down to business.

"I take it this isn't a social call."

"One thing I always liked about you, Danny, you catch on fast."

"No room in this game for slow learners, Matthew, you of all people should know that. Now, what can I do for you?"

"We need money and I need ammunition."

"Bad action?"

"It's not good."

"It never is."

"Will you help us?"

"Of course. Do you want to stay the night? You'll be safe here and I've got plenty of room."

"Sounds good to me."

"Then it's settled," Danny rubs his hands together, "you'll stay here tonight and I'll get you everything you need. Now, how about some dinner?"

That sounds good and I'm about to say so when I feel Matthew's hand on my elbow. I stay quiet.

"No, that's okay. We've got to go out for awhile, we'll get something on the way back."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure. We'll see you later, Danny."

And, just like that, we're back in the car.

"Where are we going, Matthew?"

"Shopping."

"Shopping?"

"Yes, Dominic, shopping. I don't know about you, but I need a change of clothes."

I sniff my shirt. I can smell my own sweat and the sweat of the man who attacked me.

"Alright, let's go shopping."

*************************************************************************************************************

That felt so very, very good. I look at my smooth face in the mirror, then at the hairs in the sink. We stopped at a drugstore while we were out shopping and I picked up a razor, which I've just put to good use. I hadn't shaved since the morning I was arrested. Was that really only a couple of days ago? It feels like a lifetime. There's a knock on the door and Matthew comes into the bathroom. He's holding a box in his hand, the other thing we got at the drugstore.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"I'm sure."

He pouts.

"But I love your blond hair, it's so pretty."

"Now I'm really sure. Let's do this."

He sighs.

"Alright. You need to take off your shirt."

"What?"

"Or keep it on, if you don't mind getting dye all over it."

I pull my shirt over my head and try to ignore the way Matthew's staring at me. He opens the box and pulls out a small bottle.

"Bend over and put your head over the sink."

I do as I'm told. A thick, chemical stink begins to fill the air. It reminds me of the times I picked Penny up at the beauty shop. I clamp a hand over my nose and breathe through my mouth as Matthew rubs the dye into my scalp. I'm trying not to think about the smell, or just how good it feels to have his fingers in my hair.

It's soon over. I look in the mirror and see a black-haired stranger. Matthew's pouting again and I ignore him. I leave him to clean up and go to the room Danny gave me. Matthew appears in the doorway.

"You left this behind," he tosses me my shirt.

I fold it and put it on a nearby chair.

"Thanks," he stays where he is and I try and hurry him along, "you can go."

"Are you sure? I could stay and keep you company, maybe sing you a lullaby..."

My shoe bounces off the doorframe and he withdraws, leaving me to sleep alone.

******************************************************************************************************

The knock at the door comes far too early. Matthew sticks his head in.

"We need to get moving."

"Already?"

"Already. Get dressed and meet me in my room. One more thing, wipe everything you touched, leave no fingerprints behind."

Matthew's strapping a gun to his ankle when I come in.

"You sure you have enough guns?"

"You can never have enough guns."

"How do you walk with all that weight?"

"Practice. Did you wipe all your prints?"

"Yeah. Why did I have to do that?"

"I'll tell you when we're in the car. Let's go."

Matthew picks up his briefcase and we go downstairs. Danny's in the kitchen, drinking coffee. Matthew gets what he needs and waves away all offers of breakfast.

"Come on, Matthew, you have to eat something."

"No time, we'll eat on the road."

"Where are you going?"

The conversation that follows is confusing, full of words and phrases I don't understand. What are they saying? Do I even want to know? We say our goodbyes and go out to the car and I can't help but notice the way Matthew drags his jacket sleeve over the kitchen table and door handles as he passes, wiping his prints away. In the car I turn to him.

"What was that all about?"

He doesn't take his eyes off the road.

"I'm just being careful. You don't want your fingerprints all over another murder scene, do you?"

"Murder scene?" I feel my eyes widen, "but Danny's not dead."

"Not yet. Soon, real soon."

I'm cold all over.

"You're going to kill him."

"No, his friends are going to kill him."

"What friends?"

"The men he's selling us out to. My guess is they won't be happy when they find out everything I just told Danny was a lie."

"How do you know he's selling us out?"

"I didn't want to believe it, but I knew it the second he laid eyes on you. It was as plain as the nose on his face. I brought a stranger to his house, Dominic. Not to his office or some neutral place, like a public park, but to his house. But he wasn't upset and believe me when I say he should have been. He should have been screaming at me for breaking the rules. You don't go to a man's house, that's not the way we do things."

"But you still did it."

"I didn't have a choice. I didn't expect such a warm welcome. I thought he'd give me what I wanted and kick us out right after. I never thought he'd ask us to spend the night, but I couldn't think of a way to refuse without tipping him off."

"Is that why you wouldn't eat his food?"

"Yeah, I thought he might drug it, I couldn't take that chance."

"Where does he think we're going?"

"Back to Los Angeles to meet another friend of mine."

"What friend?"

"You've already met him. The distinguished gentleman with the knife growing out of the back of his neck."

"But he's dead."

"Danny doesn't know that."

"What would you have done if he did?"

"I would have put a bullet in his eye."

I squeeze my temples, this whole thing is giving me a headache.

"So what are we doing, Matthew?"

"We need to get some breakfast and I need to find a phone, make some calls."

"Tell me something, do you have a plan or are you just making this up as you go along?"

"Little of column A, little of column B."

We find a diner with a payphone outside it. We have breakfast and I sit in the booth, sipping coffee and looking out the window at Matthew using the phone. He hangs up, sees me watching him and winks at me. I feel my cheeks heating up as I look away and, even through the glass, I can hear him laughing. I finish my coffee and go outside.

"You're so cute when you blush, Dominic."

"What's the plan, genius?"

"We're going to an airfield. A guy I know has agreed to fly us to New York."

"Why are we going to New York?"

"Because we are, that's why."

***************************************************************************************************************

Hell. This is Hell. I've never flown before and the plane, a bomber left over from the war, shakes and rattles all over the sky. My breakfast came back up about five minutes after we took off; now I'm sitting with my head between my knees, dry-heaving. Matthew's right beside me, rubbing my back. He's saying something to me, but I can't hear him over the roar of the engines.

We finally land and I stagger out of the plane on rubber legs. Matthew guides me along, one hand on my shoulder, the other clutching his precious, mysterious briefcase.

"It's okay, you'll be okay," Matthew's voice is gentle, "you just need to lie down."

I nod, too sick to speak. Matthew leads me out of the airfield and into a cab. We pull up outside a hotel and I stand in the lobby, trying to stay upright as Matthew gets a couple of rooms. Matthew helps me up to my room and I collapse onto the mattress with a grateful sigh. The nausea fades away and I fall into a deep sleep.

*******************************************************************************************************************

"Take a seat, I'll get us a drink."

I sit at one of the tables in the hotel lounge. I feel human again; a few hours' sleep and some food has worked miracles. Someone left a pen on the table. I pick it up and start doodling on a napkin.

"Is that Penny?" Matthew returns with two glasses.

"Hmm?" I look up from my picture, then down at it, at the girl I've drawn, "Oh. No, that's not her."

"I'm sorry I messed things up for you."

"That's okay, I know you didn't mean to."

Do you miss her?"

"Who, Penny?"

"Who else would I be talking about?"

"No, I don't miss her. I thought I would but, to tell the truth, I haven't really thought about her for days."

"I thought you were in love."

"So did I. But now I'm starting to think I never loved her. I loved what she stood for."

"What was that?"

"Security. I liked the idea of being married, having a family and a nice house, all the things I never had growing up."

"Bad childhood?"

"Tough childhood. My father died when I was two, my mother raised me by herself. She worked every hour she could, but she never made much. We lived in all the bad places, the dirty, damp places with cheap rent.. Then, just before the war began, she got sick. Cancer. I couldn't go overseas to fight like my friends did, I had to stay and take care of her. Then, three years ago, she died."

"I'm sorry."

We drink in silence for awhile.

"Have you even been in love, Matthew?"

"Once."

"What happened?"

"I got stabbed in the back," he shrugs, "I gave up on romance after that, no room for it in this job."

"Do you like your job, Matthew?"

"Parts of it."

"What about the other parts?"

"What about them?"

"You don't like those parts."

"No, Dominic, I don't."

"But you do them anyway."

"Yes, I do."

"Why?"

"Because I don't get to decide what's good and bad, right and wrong. I just do as I'm told," he takes a drink, "I said I was a mechanic, but that's not true. I'm just a tool. I go into neat little offices and meet neat little men and they tell me what's what. They tell me what I'm doing is right, that I'm serving my country, but it's easy for them. They never get their hands dirty, no blood ever splashes on them. They've never drowned a man in his bath and hidden behind the door, listening to his wife cry."

"If it bothers you so much, why do you keep doing it?"

"Because somebody has to."

He looks up. Our eyes meet and lock and something passes between us, but I couldn't say what it is, exactly. He looks away and finishes his drink.

"I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning, Dominic."

"Goodnight, Matthew."

I have one more drink before going upstairs. As I'm coming out of the elevator someone bumps my arm, hard enough to bruise. I turn to confront them, but they're already gone. I shrug and walk down the hall to my room. I'm almost there when all the spit in my mouth dries up and I begin to feel dizzy. The world gets fuzzy around the edges, goes dark ...

... hmm. Warm. Soft. Nice.

Someone's holding me, stroking the back of my neck. It feels so, so good ....

Wait - where am I? What am I doing?

I open my eyes and look into a pair of all-too-familiar blue ones.

"Good morning, beautiful."

My entire body locks up as I grasp the reality of my situation. Matthew's in my bed. I'm in his arms. I'm naked - and so is he.

Oh.

My.

GOD.

Title: Run Part V
Author: hannah_chapter
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: PG
Summary: AU. LA, 1951. Dominic Howard is an average guy living an average life. Until a blue-eyed stranger jumps into his car and holds him at gunpoint...
Feedback: Yes please.
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse, I just like to have fantasy orgies with them. And David Tennant. And Matt Smith. And Russell Howard. And Nathan Fillion. And Chris Evans. And Brandon Routh.  And almost the entire male cast of True Blood. It's getting crowded in there.


"No."

"Don't be so childish."

"I don't trust you."

"I'm hurt."

"Tough."

"I saved your life."

"You're the reason it was in danger."

"I said I was sorry."

"That was big of you."

We're in a motel room, a cheap motel room. A cheap motel room with only one bed, and that's the problem. I don't want to sleep on the floor and I definitely do not want to share a bed with another man, especially this man. I don't even want to think about the things he might do to me if I let my guard down and climb into bed with him. Matthew takes a deep breath and blows it out.

"It's like this, Dominic. I'm a lot of things, but I'm no rapist. I'm not about to violate you in your sleep, if that's what you're worried about. Even if that was my thing, I'm too damn tired. You've had some bad days and, for what it's worth, I am sorry. But I've had some bad months, hell, I'm having a bad year. I'm exhausted, I need to sleep and I'm going to sleep, in this bed. You can sleep in this bed with me, or on the floor, or swinging from the chandelier. I don't really care."

I think about that for a couple of seconds. "This room doesn't have a chandelier."

He blinks. "I have a gun, you know."

"How could I forget?"

Matthew shakes his head and mutters to himself, something about why didn't he just shoot me and take my car. Then he starts to undress. I stare at him, unable to believe what I'm seeing. He takes a switchblade out of his jacket pocket and puts it on the bedside table, then takes the jacket off. His gun is in a shoulder holster, he didn't have that the other day - or, if he did, I didn't notice. Well, he was shoving a gun in my side and flirting with me. The holster comes off and I see something metallic tucked into the waistband of his pants. I think they might be knuckledusters, I've heard of such things but never seen them up close. They go on the table next to his knife and he pauses in the act of unknotting his tie.

"What? Never seen someone undress before?"

"I can't believe you carry all that stuff around. Do you have something shoved up your ass as well?"

He waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "Was that an offer?"

I ignore the innuendo. "Just what is it you do for a living, Matthew?"

He unbuttons his shirt. "I guess you could say I'm a mechanic."

"A mechanic?"

"Yes. I fix things that need fixing."

Matthew pulls off his shirt and I suck in a breath. His chest is covered in scars, lots of little ones and one big one, just over his heart. He sits on the bed, facing away from me, to take off his shoes and pants and his back is almost as bad, with another big scar to match the one on his chest. He wasn't kidding when he said his life was exciting. Stripped to his underwear, he slips into bed. I stay where I am, weighing up the options. Oh, to hell with it. I undress quickly and get into bed, staying as far away from Matthew as I can. He doesn't try anything, I think he might be asleep already. All the excitement of the last few days catches up with me and I soon join him.

The sound of running water wakes me. Matthew walks out of the bathroom.

"Sleep well?"

I sit up. "Yeah, better than I thought I would."

"Get dressed and we'll get breakfast."

We find a diner just around the corner from the motel. Matthew tells me to order whatever I want, he'll pay. I haven't eaten properly in days, so I get everything they've got and go right to it. I finish my coffee and raise my head to find Matthew staring at me, his own coffee cup forgotten in his hand.

"What?"

"A life of danger seems to agree with you, Dominic. It hasn't affected your appetite, at any rate."

I wipe my mouth with a napkin. "This is the first real meal I've had since my lunch that day."

He drops his eyes and I feel bad for bringing it up again. He's apologised, more than once as a matter of fact, he did try to warn me and he came back for me. He could have let me die and he didn't, so maybe I should stop whining about how he ruined my life. Matthew pays and we get in the car.

"Where are we going?"

"To see an associate of mine, he might be able to help us."

We stop outside a building in an unfamiliar street. Matthew takes the briefcase out of the car and we take the elevator up to the fourth floor. Halfway down the hall he stops. I start to ask what's wrong, but he puts a finger to his lips and points at the door across the hall. The door is open. Matthew takes out his gun and goes inside. I follow him into an office, or what was an office. It's been turned upside down, books and papers are everywhere and all the furniture has been smashed. Wait - not all of it. The desk and chair by the window are intact, which is more than can be said for the man on the desk. Face down, he's got a knife sticking out of his neck. I reach for it, Matthew's voice stops me.

"Don't touch it! Don't touch anything in this room!"

"We can't leave him like this, we have to something."

"Use your eyes, Dominic. We can't do anything for him, not unless you know how to raise the dead, and I have my doubts. What we need to do is get out of here. This could be a trap. Let's get moving."

We're almost at the elevator when the doors open. Matthew smacks me in the chest with the case, stopping me in my tracks.

"Stairs at the other end of the hall. Go!"

We run and I hear someone chasing us but don't dare turn around. Matthew was right, this is a trap. We take the stairs two and three at a time until we reach the ground floor. Out of the building but we're not safe yet. Two men are leaning against our car. Matthew curses, but they haven't seen us yet. We walk away and I follow Matthew as he makes random right and left turns. My head is spinning when we finally stop on a deserted street. Matthew stops at a parked car and hands me the case.

"Hold this and keep an eye out for trouble."

He takes the lockpicks out of his jacket again and slides one into the car's lock.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"It looks like you're stealing this car."

"Ten out of ten for observation, Dominic. Zero out of ten for stating the obvious."

He gets the door open and opens the passenger door for me. I get in and watch him fiddle with the ignition until the car starts.

"Where to now?"

"Train station. We're going to take a train."

"Now, when you say 'take a train' do you mean we're-"

"I mean we're buying tickets and going on a trip. Smartass."

"A trip to where?"

"It's a surprise. Don't you like surprises?"

"No, I don't. Not your surprises. The way our luck's going, there'll probably be a dead body in our compartment."

"If there is, I'll deal with it."

"Of course you will. How do you get to be so calm about these things?"

"All part of the job."

"The job. And just how did you get into this job? Who are you, Matthew? What's your story?"

"That's a long and involved tale and we really don't have time now. But I might tell you about it. In bed, after a night of love."

"Don't you ever stop?"

"I can't help myself. I told you, I've got a thing for blonds."

"Well, find another blond. You'll never get your hands on me."

"Never say never, Dominic. Something tells me that before all this is over, you'll be begging me to make love to you."

"You overestimate your attractiveness."

"You underestimate yours."

I can't think of an answer to that and he lets the matter drop. Matthew parks the car and we enter the station. A man just inside the main door has a newspaper open in front of his face and my stomach turns over when I see my face on the front page. WANTED FOR MURDER reads the headline. I turn to Matthew.

"Now what?"

"Go stand in that corner, don't look at anyone. I'll be right back."

I do as he says and look down at my shoes. Please, don't let anyone report me.

"Here, put these on."

Matthew's got a hat and a pair of sunglasses in his free hand, I'm guessing he bought them at the newspaper stand.

"This is the best you can do?"

"What else do you want?"

"Something better than this. A real disguise."

"Yeah. Someone wearing a disguise, Dominic, you know what they look like?"

"What?"

"Like a person wearing a disguise. We might be able to do more later, we could dye your hair black, even if it would be a shame to ruin those lovely, blond locks. But for now, this will have to do."

I put the hat and sunglasses on. I feel like an idiot and Matthew's mouth twitches, he's obviously trying not to laugh.

"I look ridiculous, don't I?"

"Better ridiculous than under arrest, or dead. Let's go, I've got the tickets."

I follow him to the platform and onto the train. It starts to move and Matthew relaxes into his seat. But the peace doesn't last, that would be too easy. We've been on the move for about an hour when Matthew straightens up. I follow his gaze and see a shadow pass the door once, twice, three times. He stands and gives me the case again.

"Sit tight, I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

He leaves and I cling to the case, waiting for him to return. I hear the door open and relax my grip. But my relief is short-lived. It's not Matthew: another man is standing in the doorway, pointing a gun at me. Where the hell is Matthew? The man reads my mind.

"Looking for Bellamy? Don't bother. I already took care of him. He can't help you now."

Title: Run Part III
Author: hannah_chapter
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: PG
Summary: AU. LA, 1951. Dominic Howard is an average guy living an average life. Until a blue-eyed stranger jumps into his car and holds him at gunpoint...
Feedback: Yes please.
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse, I just like to have fantasy orgies with them. And David Tennant. And Matt Smith. And Russell Howard. And Nathan Fillion  And almost the entire male cast of True Blood. It's getting crowded in there.

Okay, so this is my attempt at a Hitchcock thriller, something like The 39 Steps or North By Northwest. Only, y'know, nowhere near as good. Btw, there is a really excellent stage version of The 39 Steps with a four man cast, if anyone gets a chance to check it out I really recommend it.


Did I think yesterday was the worst day of my life? Did I really? Shows what I know. The men who tackled me at the studio brought me to this place, I guess it's a police station, they took my belt, tie and shoelaces and then they threw me in a cell. Why the shoelaces? I can understand the tie and belt, but - shoelaces? Who ever heard of a man hanging himself with his shoelaces?

They let me stew for awhile and then I'm taken into another room, shoved in a chair, my hands behind my back and cuffed again. Two men come in, I think they're the guys from yesterday, the ones chasing my passenger. It's a little hard to tell; the room is dark, shadowy, lit by one weak lightbulb and they keep moving around, so all I really see is their backs. Two voices, but I can't tell them apart.

"You've got a lot of explaining to do, Mr. Howard. Start with what happened yesterday."

I tell my story and then I tell it again. They just can't get enough of it and they make me tell it a third time.

"What do you think? Do we believe him?"

"I don't know. Smells a bit funny to me, it doesn't add up."

"Please, I've told you everything I know, what do you want from me?"

"The truth."

"I've told you the truth!"

"Have you?"

"Yes!" My shirt is soaked right through and I can smell all the alcohol I drank yesterday, oozing out of my skin. "I want to talk to a lawyer."

"A lawyer? Now that's interesting. Only guilty men, men with things to hide, want lawyers."

"Guilty? Guilty of what?"

"Fraternizing with a known traitor, an enemy of the State."

"I didn't have a choice! He had a gun!"

"That's what you say. We didn't see a gun, just the two of you in your car, looking real cozy."

"I'm telling you, I don't know him! I don't even know his name. Who is he, what has he done?"

"We'll ask the questions. Why didn't you go to the police? A man kidnapped you, he threatened you with a gun, so why didn't you report it?"

"I don't know, it rattled me, I wasn't thinking straight."

"So you had a few drinks, just to steady your nerves."

"Yes."

"Or is that what you want us to think? Maybe you're a courier, passing secrets from one traitor to another. Maybe you went to that bar to meet your contact."

"No! I went to a bar, I got drunk, a friend drove me home. That's all there is to it."

The handcuffs are cutting my wrists. I should stop pulling at them but I can't help myself. The next question comes right out of left field.

"What did you do in the war, Mr. Howard?"

"What?"

"The war, what did you do? Did you serve overseas?"

"Oh. No, I didn't go."

"So you're a draft dodger."

"It wasn't like that. My mother was dying, I had to take care of her."

"Convenient."

If I could move I would punch the man who said that. As it is, I have to bite my tongue to stop myself making things worse. Is that even possible?

"You work for RKO, right?"

"Right."

"And we've talked to some of the other customers in the bar last night, they heard you make several negative statements about your employer. What gives you the right to judge Mr. Hughes and the fine work he does?"

"I didn't know what I was saying. I was drunk."

"That's no excuse. Know what I think? I think you're a draft-dodging Commie-lover. You might even be a full-blown Red, a dirty Red traitor."

"No, that's not true!"

They must be getting bored because the interrogation stops there and they leave the room. I sit, waiting for the nightmare to end. They come back.

"Cut him loose. We'll be watching you, Mr. Howard, so stay out of trouble. Don't pick up any more strangers."

They let me go, I don't get my belt, shoelaces and tie back. I don't push it, I'm just happy to be free. I stumble outside, find a payphone and call Chris. My wrists burn, I scratch them while I wait for him. He doesn't come alone: Penny is hot on his heels, driving her mother's car. She strides up to me and, before I can say anything, she slaps my face, her nails cutting my cheek.

"Bastard! How dare you humiliate me like this! You spend all day drinking when you're supposed to be having dinner with us, you hang up on me when I call, and now you're getting arrested. It's too much."

"Please, let me explain-"

"No! I don't want to hear it. It's over, Dominic. You're obviously not the man I thought you were. I'll send your ring back to you."

She turns on her heel and marches back to her car, almost hitting Chris, who's leaning against his own car, as she drives off. He looks at me and it's like I can read his mind: he feels sorry for me, but he's so glad none of this is happening to him.

"I'm sorry, Dominic. She was there when you called, I couldn't keep her away."

"It's not your fault, it's just been that kind of day. At least it can't get any worse, right?"

Chris clears his throat and looks down at his feet.

"What's wrong?"

"I have a message for you." He's still looking down at his feet. "Don't bother coming to work tomorrow, or ever again. If you ever set foot on the studio lot again you'll be thrown out." He finally looks up at me but doesn't say anything. What else is there to say?

I rub my eyes. "Just take me home, Chris." He does. When we get to my place he turns to me. "Do you want to come and stay with me tonight? Maybe you shouldn't be alone."

"I appreciate the offer, but I think that's just what I need. I'd like to have a quiet evening without anyone arresting me or waving guns at me."

"Alright, but call me if you need anything."

"I will."

I fix myself something to eat, listen to the radio for awhile and go to bed early. I feel like I could sleep for a week.

Something wakes me, I'm not sure what it is at first. Then, as I'm getting out of bed, I hear a gunshot and a scream, then something hitting the floor. I turn on the light and open the bedroom door. I don't believe this: it's him, the stranger with the blue eyes. He's standing in the doorway, a gun in his hand, a body at his feet. He makes a tutting sound.

"I thought I told you to run."

Title: Run Part I
Author: hannah_chapter
Pairing: Belldom
Rating: PG
Summary: AU. LA, 1951. Dominic Howard is an average guy living an average life. Until a blue-eyed stranger jumps into his car and holds him at gunpoint...
Disclaimer: I don't own Muse, I just like to have fantasy orgies with them. And David Tennant. And Matt Smith. And Russell Howard.  And almost the entire male cast of True Blood. It's getting crowded in there.

Okay, so this is my attempt at a Hitchcock thriller, something like The 39 Steps or North By Northwest. Only, y'know, nowhere near as good.


"Drive." I stare, open-mouthed, at the man in the passenger seat. I've never seen him before in my life and yet he saw fit to jump into my car and demand a ride. This is ... well, I don't know what this is, but I don't have to stand for it. I finally find my voice.

"Look here, mister. You can't just jump into people's cars and expect them to drive you around. This isn't a cab! Just who in the hell do you think you are?"

Something hard and cold is shoved into my side and a pair of ice-blue eyes bore into mine. "I'm the man with a gun in his hand. Now do what I say." I tear my gaze away from his and see two men approaching the car. He sees them too: the gun digs even further into my side and his voice takes on a desperate edge. "I said drive!"

I do as he says and the men outside beat a hasty retreat, probably back to a car of their own. But we're already gone. My mysterious passenger relaxes a little. The gun is withdrawn and he throws his briefcase in the back seat. I clear my throat. What exactly are you supposed to say to someone who's just - and there's really no other way to put this - kidnapped you at gunpoint? "Where do you want to go?"

"It doesn't matter. Just keep driving."

"What's your name?"

"You don't need to know."

"I'm-"

"I don't want to know."

That pretty much kills the conversation right there. I'm trying to keep all my attention on the road, but I can't help myself, I keep sneaking glances at him. He's slightly smaller than me, and a lot thinner. Dark hair, a pale face and those beautiful blue eyes. Wait a minute. Did I just call a man beautiful? Get a hold of yourself, Howard! It's just temporary insanity, the pressure of the situation I've suddenly found myself in. Yeah. That's all it is.

He's staring at me, I can feel it and I find myself shifting in my seat as I drive. He obviously senses my discomfort. "Am I making you nervous?"

"Yes! You keep staring at me! I'm doing what you want, so why do you have to keep looking at me like that?"

He moves closer to me and a playful tone creeps into his voice. "Why shouldn't I look at you? You're an attractive man." I can feel myself blushing and I yelp as his finger flicks my earlobe. "A very attractive man." The finger trails down my neck. "I've always had a thing for blonds. We could have so much fun together. Get a hotel room, just the two of us, and really make a night of it. What do you say?"

"I'm engaged!"

"That wasn't a no."

I'm sweating now and he's still touching me. He pulls away suddenly. "Relax, I'm just having fun with you." I let out the breath I didn't even realise I was holding. He's not wearing a jacket and, out of the corner of my eye, I see red leaking through his shirt.

"You're hurt."

"What?" He looks down at himself. "So I am. I guess I didn't notice in all the excitement." He pulls his shirt open and inspects the damage. "It's nothing, just a little scratch. Got anything in here I could mop this up with?"

"There should be some clean rags in the glovebox."

He leans forward. "I'm trusting you. But if you try anything funny, I'll splatter your brains all over this nice car of yours and believe me, that shit never comes out. I don't want to hurt you, but I will if I have to. Understand?" I swallow thickly and nod. "Good boy." He opens the glovebox and paws through it until he finds the rags. He presses them against the wound and closes his shirt. "That's better."

"You should get a doctor to look at that. I could take you to a hospital."

"I appreciate the offer, but there's no need. I'll be fine. Pull over." I do as I'm told. "This'll do. Thanks for the ride. Sorry if I messed up your day, but I really didn't have a choice." He tugs at my jacket, which I took off and draped over my seat before I got in the car. "Can I borrow this?"

I nod and he pulls it on. "Be seeing you." He winks at me before jumping out of the car as quickly as he jumped in, leaving me speechless. What the hell just happened?"