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Post by Preston Saint on May 28, 2007 6:16:20 GMT -5
"That's quite the formidable music collection you have there, Mr. Saint."
"Huh?" he asked, looking up. He had still been trying to calm himself, shake bad memories.
"Oh, thank you. I've had to accumulate a lot of CDs over my years here. Ordering them in, keep myself occupied. I've had to buy lots of...DVDs and books and video games to relieve boredom." he explained.
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Post by ana on May 28, 2007 7:20:40 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
The tension in Samantha's shoulders eased when he replied without flying off the handle again.
"I suppose you must get quite lonely at times too, living way out here on your own?" She tried to sound sympathetic.
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Post by Preston Saint on May 28, 2007 8:02:28 GMT -5
"I suppose you must get quite lonely at times too, living way out here on your own?"
He looked over at her. His eyes looked her up and down for a moment. "It can be. Sometimes." He went back to his pancakes. "I suppose you have people waiting for you back home. A family, a boyfriend."
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Post by ana on May 29, 2007 7:29:42 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
Her mind wandered for a moment, thinking of someone distant. She caught herself, lost in thought and returned quickly to the conversation.
"Back home? If home were England, then no. The only thing waiting for me back there is a life of aristocracy that never really fitted. There is no family there." She picked up the glass of orange juice that he'd set out for her and sniffed at it, wondering if he'd added his own extra ingredient. By now though, she was too thirsty to care, so just drank it anyway. She paused before setting it back down, as if waiting for the inevitable dizziness. When it didn't come, she caried on talking, placing the glass back on the table.
"As I've already mentioned though, I was meant to be meeting someone when I landed. When he realises that my plane crashed, he'll come looking for me. It won't take them long to figure out where the plane came down. There will be search parties here within hours. Better to just let me go and pretend this didn't happen. What do you say?" Samantha suggested, hoping reason would win out. A curteous smile presented itself on her lips.
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Post by Preston Saint on May 29, 2007 7:38:41 GMT -5
"Back home? If home were England, then no. The only thing waiting for me back there is a life of aristocracy that never really fitted. There is no family there."
"Oh. I see." he said, regretting the question.
"As I've already mentioned though, I was meant to be meeting someone when I landed. When he realizes that my plane crashed, he'll come looking for me. It won't take them long to figure out where the plane came down. There will be search parties here within hours. Better to just let me go and pretend this didn't happen. What do you say?"
He looked over at her curiously, and then gave a satisfied smile. "I severely doubt it. This island is a little outside anyone's control. I'm sorry, Ms Harkness. There will be no search parties. And that person you're meeting won't see you for...a very long time." he explained gently with an edge of condescension. "Who is it, by the way? Really, I advise you to answer truthfully just about any question. I'll find out sooner or later, so there's no point in lying."
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Post by ana on May 29, 2007 10:22:36 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
"I severely doubt it. This island is a little outside anyone's control. I'm sorry, Ms Harkness. There will be no search parties. And that person you're meeting won't see you for...a very long time."
What worried Samantha most, was the fact he seemed so sure that what he was saying was the truth. What if she wasn't found? What if she was unable to escape this strange man who drugged her one minute and made her pancakes the next? And they were good pancakes too.
"Who is it, by the way? Really, I advise you to answer truthfully just about any question. I'll find out sooner or later, so there's no point in lying."
"And how exactly will you find out if I choose not to tell you who he is?" She said, defiance in her manner. "I mean, you're so sure he won't find this place, how could you possibly get such information? You'll find i'm quite the stubborn type when pushed Mr. Saint."
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Post by Preston Saint on May 29, 2007 10:56:25 GMT -5
"And how exactly will you find out if I choose not to tell you who he is? I mean, you're so sure he won't find this place, how could you possibly get such information? You'll find i'm quite the stubborn type when pushed Mr. Saint."
"We have our ways. I'll know soon enough, but it would be a lot easier if you just told me. They did the same thing to me when I got here. It's very...strange, to see your entire life in a fifty-page long red file." he said tonelessly.
He tried to keep his eyes off her cleavage, which was relatively modest but still attracted his attention. God almighty, she was...well, she was amazingly hot. He felt the sudden urge to tell her something he'd been bursting to tell her. To avoid being slapped, he simply said it in French. "Une personne plus belle ne pourrait pas être tombée du ciel. Comme un ange avec le fendage. Dieu, j'aimerais vous couvrir en sauce à chocolat et le lécher au loin. Si délicieux."
He said it all in a flawless accent and with an easy smile that masked his smug satisfaction that she didn't know what he was saying. "That's French for...would you like some chocolate sauce on your pancakes?"
translation: A more beautiful person couldn't have fallen from the sky. Like an angel with cleavage. God, I'd love to cover you in chocolate sauce and lick it off. So delicious.
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Post by ana on May 29, 2007 11:10:19 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
"Une personne plus belle ne pourrait pas être tombée du ciel. Comme un ange avec le fendage. Dieu, j'aimerais vous couvrir en sauce à chocolat et le lécher au loin. Si délicieux."
Samantha almost dropped her fork, she was so taken aback by what he'd said. In Preston's eagerness to prove that he knew more than she did, he'd overlooked the fact that she was a well travelled woman and was fluent in French too. And although the comment might have been intended as a compliment - to call her an angel was actually quite sweet - it was the idea of him licking sauce off her that made her want to vomit.
"That's French for...would you like some chocolate sauce on your pancakes?"
It bloody well isn't! She thought. But instead of provoking him with a well placed slap around the face, she decided to play him at his own game.
"Wow, your French is fantastic!" She flattered him. "Do you mind if I ask where you learnt to speak so eloquently?"
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Post by Preston Saint on May 29, 2007 11:18:37 GMT -5
"Wow, your French is fantastic! Do you mind if I ask where you learnt to speak so eloquently?"
"Thank you." he smiled, a little suspicious that she was so compliant all of a sudden. But he brushed it off. Perhaps she wasn't very bright. After all, not too long ago she'd imagined a soup ladle to be an effective weapon. "When I was very young, my mother made me listen to learning tapes. I also spent two years in France, and before I made my trip I had a personal tutor."
He picked up the chocolate sauce, and leaned over the table. "So, chocolate sauce? oui ou non, ange?"
translation: yes or no, angel?
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Post by ana on May 29, 2007 11:23:01 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
Samantha looked at the sauce bottle in his hand, then at Preston himself. The timing was perfect.
"Si vous pensez depuis une seconde je vous avais permis de vous approcher de moi avec cette sauce de chocolat, vous avez une autre arrivée de chose." She said, her own voice sounding equally flawless with the language.
translation* "If you think for a second i'd let you come near me with that chocolate sauce, you've got another thing coming."
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Post by Preston Saint on May 29, 2007 11:28:05 GMT -5
Shocked by her flawless French accent as she made it clear she understood him, he accidentally squeezed the chocolate sauce, sending a Freudian spurt into the air to land on his shirt. He stared directly at her for a moment, his mouth slightly agape. Then, slowly and cautiously, he replied, "I guess it would be inappropriate for me to ask you to lick that sauce off me."
He prepared himself for the coming slap.
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Post by ana on May 29, 2007 11:34:15 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
Which Samantha promptly obliged to do. *Slap*
In fact she'd hit him so hard with her open palm, it was now bright red and throbbing. Much like Preston's cheek.
"I think i'm done here." She stated, now clearly annoyed as she dropped her fork on the plate and pushed it towards him. In the midst of her leaning forward and slapping him, she'd been able to tuck the knife down the waist band of her skirt at the small of her back without him noticing.
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Post by Preston Saint on May 29, 2007 11:38:29 GMT -5
The slap was probably the closest Preston would get to being spanked by the lady, so he counted himself lucky. She'd ruined two of his shirts now. Sighing, he started to gather up the dishes. He realized he was putting off telling Ben, mainly because he knew he should've already told Ben by now. He was really just dodging.
That, and he needed to find a time where he could go to Ben without Samantha perhaps destroying everything in his house and/or escaping.
Growing annoyed as he nursed the side of his face, he pulled off his shirt in a huff as he made his way to his bedroom for a new one.
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Post by ana on May 29, 2007 11:49:46 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
She watched him walk off, partly because he had pulled his shirt off and what lay underneath was noteworthy.... But it was mostly to be sure he was leaving the room. Yet another moment of over-confidence for him, since his abscense now bought her valuable seconds to escape through the kitchen window.
Once out of view, Samantha quickly stood up, making sure to not make any noise that might give her away. She crept into the kitchen, tried the back door handle once, just in case she really was that lucky, then went back to her original plan when she realised she wasn't.
The window was small and square, over the sink, but it looked just about big enough for her to clamber out. She hitched her long skirt up and climbed up on the counter but a sound behind her made her jump.
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Post by Preston Saint on May 29, 2007 11:53:19 GMT -5
He heard a distinct scrambling noise, and before he had even opened his drawer for another shirt, he realized what was happening. He immediately shot out of his bedroom, skidding towards her. "No! Harkness!" he yelled, and was momentarily distracted by her hitched up skirt, for what lay underneath was noteworthy...but now he had to-
Skirt...
....but no, now he had to get her back. He reached forward, and tried his best to be gentle as well as firm, to secure her without harming her. His arms wrapped powerfully around her waist as he attempted to lift her from the window.
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Post by ana on May 29, 2007 11:59:17 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
She had been half out of the window when he grabbed her waist and pullled her back. "Get off me!" She yelled, clawing wildly for a handle on something, finally catching her fingertips on the window frame in a bid to stop him dragging her back. She hung on for dear life. So close was she to getting away, that she didn't hesitate to kick out at him and wriggle as much as she could if it might have made him let go.
"Let go!"
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Post by Preston Saint on May 29, 2007 12:02:15 GMT -5
"Let go!"
"If I let go, you'll be killed!" he tried to stress to her.
Her wild kicks struck him directly in his bare chest, causing him to almost lose his grip. However, he managed to hold on, and placed one foot on the kitchen top. He then kicked out, propelling them both back from the window onto the floor. The combination of Samantha on top of him and his back striking the hard floor momentarily winded him.
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Post by ana on May 29, 2007 12:08:53 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
She could taste the free air, just beyond her reach, then it was all too suddenly yanked away. She found herself in a heap on the kitchen floor, yet again, though this time with Preston underneath her. She felt his grip slacken with the impact of landing and before she even knew it herself, her elbow had struck him in the ribs and she was scrambling away from him on hands and knees back towards the other room.
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Post by Preston Saint on May 29, 2007 12:13:04 GMT -5
Furious, Preston began to scramble after her. Growling, he began to crawl after her, eventually catching up. He reached forward and seized her by the ankles, and pulled her back towards him. He sat up for a moment, sliding her beneath him until he was just above her waist, and then flipped her around to face him. He held her firmly in place by her shoulders. "Not...good...manners..." he snarled.
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Post by ana on May 29, 2007 12:26:00 GMT -5
SAMANTHA
This wasn't Samantha's ideal escape plan at all. In fact in her mind, there had been a lot less struggling and a lot more actually escaping. And if anyone were to walk in on the two of them right now, their current situation might prove difficult to explain.
"Not...good...manners..."
As if to prove him right, she did possibly the most un-ladylike thing she'd ever done in her entire life. She head-butted him.
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