GAME
by Bast
If someone had told her a year ago that she'd be sitting on a bench in the lobby
of an upscale New York apartment building, playing Truth or Dare with an eccentric
genius, she'd have checked both legs to see which one was being pulled.
But it was true, and evidently no joke to the wild eyed, unshaven man who sat
across from her. "Come on, let's do another. Ask me one." He had the eagerness
of a child at Christmas.
Two hours ago they had staked out the lobby of the Fountain Towers, waiting for
their suspect to return. It was okay at first. Bobby made notes, watched the
people, left her alone. But twenty minutes ago, he suddenly got the jitters,
turned to her with a rare smile, and suggested this absurd game. Genius must
be humored, she'd always heard. She was doing her part.
"O.K.", she sighed. "Truth or dare." He mulled it over seriously. "Truth."
She racked her brain for something to ask--then had an inspiration. "You don't
like me, do you?"
Bobby looked surprised, then intrigued. "No.", he answered. "I don't."
Bishop shrugged. "Fair enough. Guess it's your turn."
Bobby fixed her with an intense gaze. "Truth or dare?"
"Uhmmmm....truth."
"All right. Here's the question: You don't like me, either. Do you?"
Bishop smiled--a rare action for her--and shook her head. "No."
They fell silent--both staring across the lobby--both thinking, for different
reasons, of Eames.
End
by Bast
If someone had told her a year ago that she'd be sitting on a bench in the lobby
of an upscale New York apartment building, playing Truth or Dare with an eccentric
genius, she'd have checked both legs to see which one was being pulled.
But it was true, and evidently no joke to the wild eyed, unshaven man who sat
across from her. "Come on, let's do another. Ask me one." He had the eagerness
of a child at Christmas.
Two hours ago they had staked out the lobby of the Fountain Towers, waiting for
their suspect to return. It was okay at first. Bobby made notes, watched the
people, left her alone. But twenty minutes ago, he suddenly got the jitters,
turned to her with a rare smile, and suggested this absurd game. Genius must
be humored, she'd always heard. She was doing her part.
"O.K.", she sighed. "Truth or dare." He mulled it over seriously. "Truth."
She racked her brain for something to ask--then had an inspiration. "You don't
like me, do you?"
Bobby looked surprised, then intrigued. "No.", he answered. "I don't."
Bishop shrugged. "Fair enough. Guess it's your turn."
Bobby fixed her with an intense gaze. "Truth or dare?"
"Uhmmmm....truth."
"All right. Here's the question: You don't like me, either. Do you?"
Bishop smiled--a rare action for her--and shook her head. "No."
They fell silent--both staring across the lobby--both thinking, for different
reasons, of Eames.
End