(This totally feels wrong to post, I should post something smutastic to show how Claire really is and not this little moment of anger towards one of her antagonists.)
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Claire glanced around the empty firing range, feeling slightly mischievous. She knew being there after lights out was against the rules of the academy-- and could get her a court marshal, but she needed time to think.
With that, she flicked the switch.
Row by row the luminescent lights snapped on, Claire was temporarily blinded by the brightness reflecting off the crisp white walls. She let out a hard breath and twirled the gun in her pale fingers. She didn’t like the feel of it-- the gun. Since she was trying to be quiet about what she was doing, she grabbed the smallest gun with a silencer she could find. It didn’t feel the same as her gun.
“Well well well, Private Thomas. What are you doing out and about after lights out?”
Claire whipped around to see James sauntering over with that stupid grin on his face. People swore his smugness only came with that uniform, and that he was a nice guy. She would have given anything to wipe it off his face, though there was something about him that she found interesting; she just couldn’t place it.
It certainly wasn’t his appearance, James was a simple boy. His hair was buzzed down, as was the dress code. All that was left of it was dull brown stubble. His eyes were a dull brown, too. They seemed to hold no interest towards anything. He certainly wasn't the most fit of the guys Claire had taken interest in. She had agreed with herself, she wasn’t interested in him the way she was in other guys at the academy.
“Thinking, Corporeal Simpson. You should try it.” She jerked the gun roughly as she bit down on her tongue and turned back towards the targets that were placed in neat rows at the far end of the room.
She waited for a snide remark, a chuckle, anything. It never came, though. The two stood in silence for what felt like forever. Claire holding the gun level to her target and James standing nearby with his hands in his pockets. He finally took a half-step closer and lowered her hands slowly, fixing her stance.
“You seem angry, was it what I said at lunch? I didn’t mean to insult your family like that, I was only kidding but it was out of line.”
“I’m not mad, I just like to cock my guns hard.” She lowered the pistol and raised a brow to the man. Her lips were still pressed in an irritated line.
He opened his mouth to speak, but before anything could escape she rose the gun opened fire. The chamber quickly emptied and left the target full of bullet holes. She tossed the gun to the floor and began walking across the range, James quickly followed.
“I can’t believe you, even when you’re upset you still make lewd sexual comments to me.” He sighed and pressed his thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his nose.
“Believe me, Mr. Cocky. You have nothing to worry about, you’re far too arrogant for my tastes,” she snapped at him before whipping her hair at him-- over her shoulder.
“Arrogant, am I?”
“Arrogant, cocky, ignorant, egotistical, cold, uncaring-- need I go-”
A hand wrapped around her wrist and twirled her around. She found herself only inches from the unamused face of Corporal Simpson. He lifted her wrist above his head, forcing her to stand on the tips of her toes like a desperate ballerina.
“I don’t appreciate your slander, Thomas. If you ask me, you’re no better. You think you’ve above all of us just because your father was one of the world’s top spies, because you can hit a target no matter how far you are, because you can run the course faster than your superiors. I’ve got a cruel wake up call.”
He released her wrist and quickly brought his gloved hand down across her face. She stumbled and tripped over her own feet from the impact. A trembling hand came up and gingerly touched her bloody lip before she snapped her glare up to him.
“You’re just like him, bitch!”
“Fucking bastard!” She scrambled to her feet and brought herself back to a hair’s distance from his face, “Let’s see you do that again, big man. Striking down a private while she’s not expecting it? So fucking macho.” She spat at his face and retreated back to her target.
He quickly caught up to her and spun her around, his face as red as a tomato. Claire glared daggers back at him, her bottom lip sticking out from the swelling. For a moment his lips fluttered, like he was going to speak. Then he turned and left, yelling at her to go back to her dorm.
Claire crumbled the sheet in one hand and clenched her other hand in an empty fist until her knuckles were white. A single rebellious tear slipped out of the corner of her eye before she turned and threw the target sheet into a random corner. A shuddery breath managed to escape before she dropped to the ground and pulled her knees up to her face.
“You shouldn’t let him get to you, Claire.”
She glanced up to see Davie, “Go away, Portman.”
“Ooh, Portman. You must be really upset, tell Davie what’s wrong sweetums.”
He plopped down beside the blond and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder reluctantly. She shivered as the familiar tingle ran down her spine. Her forehead pressed itself into the nook under his jaw.
“You saw what happened, why do I need to bother telling you.”
Davie was one of the top Commander-- and spies-- at the academy. Naturally he would have taken interest in Claire’s roaming and would have followed her. Some would call it stalking, he could call it protection.
“You’re right, and I can tell you don’t want to talk about it any further. I’ll deal with him tomorrow. For now, though, let’s get you back to your dorm.”
She nodded and got to her feet, together they left the firing range.
~~~~~
Yay Davie!
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