Thread: Saving Elizabeth {The Gothic Temptress and Alan23}

While the Welshie stood over her, gun levelled, Charlie paced up and down, muttering to himself, constantly looking at the door at the far entrance. He seemed to be waiting for Psycho, who had taken Rocking away somewhere, who knew for what purpose? After a while, he walked back to the chair and, purely to amuse himself, again flipped up Elizabeth's skirt. There was obviously no reason for this, it was purely and simply to embarrass her, to strengthen his already invincible psychological edge. She was already gulping in fear and uch was hardly neccessary - but it was the way Charlie worked. The more nervous he got, the more sadistic he became... and he was nervous now, though it would have been hard to say why. Eventually, he blurted out the reason. I still don't like it, he said. Don't like it at all, Taff. bringing that flunkey I mean. There's something about him... It's making me laugh, you are, the Welshie replied, with a snap in his voice foreign to his usual lilt. He's about half your size, look you, and tied up, and you've got the shooter, isn't it? And if Psycho can't keep a wimp like him quiet, then - oh, come on, boyo. Don't tell me you're scared? Charlie strode across, gripped the Welshman by his lapels. I ain't fucking scared! he roared. Then seemed to get himself under control. I ain't scared, all right? My bottle's good as it's ever been. It's just... it's just I got to do the thinking for the team, since the two of you are such retards. I say kill him, stop him being a threat. Well, Boss said no. Charlie scowled. Yeah, don' I fuckin' know it. He snapped the ammunition clip out from the barrel of his handgun, replaced it, a nervous gesture. Can't help feelin' Boss' softness is gonna come back to bite us, though. He kicked at a discarded fruit juice carton on the littered floor. Took a step towards Elizabeth. Maybe we should, like, give 'er just a little taste? So she knows what to expect if we - Boss said no! snapped the Welshman, with a note of finality. yeah, well I'm still thinkin' of it. As if to distract himself, Charlie took a place directly opposite Elizabeth and stared ostentatiously up her dress. Granny knickers, eh? Who'd ha' thought it? Maybe we should take 'em off, and them tights. get a look at the cat, yeah? Boss said - Like Boss is gonna know? Less you split, and you won't, nor will Psycho. Needn't leave a mark. Fuck, we could all have 'er, three times each. It don't leave a sign, you know. We could - They're called 'boy legs' actually, came Tris' voice from the far end. The glares of Taffy and Charlie snapped towards the noise. Tris entered, his hands still tied, followed by Psycho with his gun levelled. So how so you know what she's got on under her skirt? growled Charlie. Ah, I get it. You're her... what they call it? Boy Toy. Now wonder she was mroe or less trying to give ya head on the floor of the van. Tells us a lot. I bet - It was the Welshman who kept his mind on the job. Charlie that isn't the point, is it, boyo? Psycho, why did you bring him -? Psycho shrugged. I dunno, he said, genueinly puzzled. I just - Psycho here isn't without a certain amount of compassion, said Tris, softly. I twisted my ankle when you brought me here, and the damp in that little cellar was playing havoc with the pain. I explained that to him and he must have decided that a bit of kindness couldn't hurt your overall aim. He shrugged, even though his hands were tied. And no, Ms Dwight and I don't have any kind of relationship. You might recall her skirt rode up rather dramatically on the way here, and she had no way to pull it down. His glance shot to her legs, briefly, then away. Though I bet this time, it had some help getting in that position. Ah well, none of my business. Now, are you going to feed us? Charlie and Welshie exchanged glances, then both glared at Psycho. Look, it jus' seemed right, he said, guiltily. And if it's his ankle he's twisted, look you, why is he not lmping then? asked the Welshman, suspiciously. Walked it off, Tris replied, sitting down, landing softly despite his tied hands. I heal quickly. How are you, Ms Dwight? Are they treating you OK?