hannah_chapter1 | Run Part II

Title: Run Part II
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 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.

How many drinks have I had? I try to count the empty glasses on the table. Two, four ... seven? I can't get much beyond three without getting confused so I just give up and try to enjoy my buzz. It's hopeless; everytime I blink I see him, the stranger with the blue eyes. Damn him, why did he have to pick on me?

The whole thing shook me up so bad I couldn't go back to work. There wasn't much point since he took my jacket and I couldn't go back without one, it wouldn't look right. Going home to change would have taken too long so what the hell, I decided to take the rest of the day off and get myself a drink. Christ knows I needed one.

A shadow falls over the table and I look up to find Chris, a friend from work, staring at me and all my glasses. He doesn't look too happy. "So this is where you've been hiding all afternoon! I've been looking all over for you. Then I saw your car parked outside." Chris takes a seat opposite me, the waitress comes by and he orders a drink of his own. "Well, when I say I saw your car parked outside, what I should have said was I saw your car being towed away from outside here."

"What!"

"You parked beside a fire hydrant, Dominic, and right under the NO PARKING sign, so what did you expect?"

Great, that's all I need. Guess I'll be taking a cab home.

"Oh, and your girl's been calling me, something about you standing her up." Oh God, I completely forgot. We were supposed to be having dinner with her parents this evening. She's going to kill me. If my boss doesn't beat her to the punch.

The waitress comes back with his drink and Chris pays her. "Talk to me, Dominic. Blowing everyone off, spending the day in a bar all by yourself, it's not like you. So spill it." I can trust Chris, he's always been a good friend, so I tell him all about it, or almost all about it. I keep the flirting and touching to myself. But it's still not coming out right, maybe because I've drunk too much or it sounds too ridiculous to be true. Either way Chris isn't buying it.

"I know how it sounds, Chris, but it really did happen."

"So let me get this straight: a man jumps into your car, pulls a gun on you, gets you to drive him around and then he just leaves. Without stealing your wallet or your car?"

"He took my jacket."

"Your jacket? Why?"

"He didn't have one of his own. But he asked me for it, he didn't steal it."

"A polite thief. I love it." Chris picks up one of the empty glasses and bounces it in the palm of his hand. "Are you sure you didn't dream this guy up? Maybe he came out of one of these glasses."

"You think this is a fairytale? I'm not that drunk and why would I do that? Why would I tell such a crazy story if it wasn't true?"

He sips his own drink. "I don't know. Maybe you felt like having a free afternoon. I know you don't much like your work at the studio."

"I could come up with a better excuse than this, I could have called in sick or something. And RKO isn't really a studio, not these days. It's just a toy for Howard Hughes to play with."

Chris looks around, trying to see if anyone's reacting to what I just said. I really should keep stuff like that to myself but, right now, I'm too drunk to care.

"Lower your voice, people will hear."

"Who gives a damn? You know I'm right. All Hughes cares about is using the studio to help him chase girls and show everyone how much he hates Reds. He's running it into the ground and, when it's gone, he'll just move onto something new." I've been waving my hands around as I talk and I knock two glasses to the ground where they shatter. The bartender starts to come over, probably planning to throw me out on my ass. Chris takes the hint and gets up, pulling me with him. He throws some money on the table to cover the damage and marches me out of the bar.

Chis drives me home since my car is gone and, even if it wasn't, I'm in no condition to drive. I'd like to thank him for this and apologize for getting all pissy with him in the bar. I can't blame him for not believing my story, would I believe him if I was in his shoes? I'd like to say all this, but I think I'm about to puke, so I just pull the door open and shake my head when he asks if I need help getting inside. He drives off and I throw up in the bushes outside my house. Truly, this has been the best day of my life.

I get inside and my phone starts to ring. I pick it up and hear a man's voice, one word: "Run." Then the line goes dead. I stare at the receiver before replacing it. What the hell? Was it the man from earlier? How could it be? He doesn't know my name so how could he know my phone number? It must be some kind of prank call.

The phone rings again and I snatch it up, thinking it must be the mystery caller again. But it's Penny, screaming about me letting her and her parents down. Okay, yes, I shouldn't have done that and she has every right to be angry with me. But I just can't handle this right now. What promises to be a really rotten hangover is already beginning to kick in and her voice is cutting through my brain like a dentist's drill, so I hang up and take the phone off the hook for good measure. I fall face down on the couch and pass out.

Morning brings pain like I've never known. I crawl off the couch and stumble over to the window to shut the blinds. This would be easier if I could see what I was doing, but if light hits my eyes my brain will explode and I'll die. I fumble with the blinds for a good ten minutes before I feel it's safe to open my eyes. I sit in the dark room for a little while before I remember I have work and need to get ready. I swallow some aspirin and try to make myself presentable. I only eat half my breakfast, all my stomach can handle.

No car, so I take a cab to work. I'm walking through the studio's main gate, trying to remember just how many people I need to apologize to for yesterday when I'm grabbed and shoved to the ground. My arms are pulled behind my back, I hear the click of handcuffs and a voice. "Dominic Howard? You're under arrest."

Current Mood: excited
Current Location: Hanging Around The Gymnasium
Current Music: The More You Ignore Me The Closer I Get - Morrisey