Thread: Transporting Taylor (Dere and skittish_butterfly)

Taylor enjoyed the first ten minutes of her limo ride through the heart of Mumbai on the way to the countryside, finally able to relax and stretch her long legs out properly. Even in first class Taylor just never quite felt comfortable, especially on such a long flight. But it was just a little discomfort and she'd kept her mind focused on the destination so it was really no problem. Just nicer now. Even better was the chance to talk with her new bodyguard for the trip, Rock -- maybe it wasn't Rock, but at least he wasn't complaining when she called him that. Taylor really had to work to coax his story out of him, along with pictures of his girlfriend and parents, until she felt she could relate to him in a way that would feel like regular folk to him. She didn't want him spending the whole trip calling her Ma'am and feeling obligated to eat and pretend to enjoy every little morsel she took a shine to. He was new to the company, a cop who'd left the force after a few years for reasons he was too uncomfortable to talk about -- but which couldn't have been too terrible or the company wouldn't have brought him in to sub, right? Most of the men, like Antonio and Brent, were Special Forces or something awesome like that. Rock seemed to have a bit of an inferiority complex about it. But she knew the super-supportive Antonio so well by now she was certain he'd have Rock comfortable and part of the team in a day or two, tops. The next 45 minutes were far slower, as the driver wound his way through packed crowds, honking repeatedly, sometimes rolling down his window and yelling loud enough to be heard through the bullet proof glass. Taylor was pretty sure it was bullet proof. At least it was tinted. She gazed out the window, just taking the scene in and letting her mind wander in that way that sometimes led to her best thoughts. Rock and Antonio were staring out the windows, but in a way that made Taylor a little sad for them. Here they were in this exotic new land on the other side of their planet, and while Taylor was able to immerse herself in the sights with a relaxed and creative spirit, the two of them seemed bound to spend the entire time watching the crowds and roads like guard dogs on sentry duty, or terminators scanning for targets or something. Not a spiritually enhancing approach at all, and it rubbed off on Taylor's mood, until she was thinking more about how they were experiencing this ride rather than experiencing it herself. Then inspiration hit. She knew how to write it. She could take Rock's sense of inferiority, that uncertainty when you're the new one, and bridge it with this new place, this new experience. Taylor saw openness in the moment and she called for her pad right away. Antonio passed it over without even looking away from the window and she immediately started scribbling furiously. She stopped to look up at Rock, who was still roto-scanning the market. Rock. No response. Rock... Rock! Over here. Do you have a second? Don't worry, the market won't blow up in the next 5 minutes, and if it does, Antonio's on it. I need to check something with you. Would you mind if I used you for part of a new song, based on what we were talking about? I don't like to write about people without their permission. Rock looked shocked. About me? But I'm just a... Rock, there's a song in everyone, maybe even in every experience, and every place, who knows. Songs are everywhere. They just need someone to open their eyes and recognize them and I see a song in you. Do you mind? Rock's mouth made a strange little twist, like his lips were struggling into a Downward Facing Dog while he considered her request like it was a cancer diagnosis. Look, I'm no party-pooper and I don't want no trouble or nothing, but you said I should feel free to... you know, tell it straight with you. So I, uh, I thought you wrote all these breakup songs about your boyfriends, I mean ex-boyfriends, and they all freaked and shit -- uh, sorry, freaked and stuff. Taylor smiled. No worries. Be yourself. But seriously, do you really think I would do something like that? Could it be possible they did agree, but their agents and parasitic friends convinced them the publicity of being wronged like that was too valuable to pass up? I guess I understand it, and it's kind of predictable by now. But it's not like I'd feel comfortable getting them to sign a piece of paper and call them liars in public or anything like that. I still care about them, for the most part. Rock was nodding. So it's ok? Rock was soon back at his window keeping them safe from little orphans and bent-over widows and mango salesmen, while Taylor worked furiously for about 2 hours. Every 15 minutes or so she had to take a little break, trying to convince the guys to sit in the back seat with her and play I Spy Indian style. They were resistant, but she was persistent, and by the time her new song was nearly written and the limo was well past the crowds and clamor of the city, the two bodyguards visibly relaxed a little, and finally agreed to join her in the silly game. Only I-Spy is not a silly game but a great way to explore the hidden details of a new place -- so her father taught her and so Taylor believed, and so she taught her bodyguards. They were all having a good time, and Rock had even found a good one as they stopped at a gas station, a little boy selling cigarettes from a green card table. Taylor didn't know whether to write a song about the boy, or take his cigarettes away or build him an orphanage, but it broke her heart. Soon they were back on the road, not more than an hour or two from the ashram. It was Taylor's turn so she craned her neck out the window which she'd had to get permission from Antonio to roll down. With the wind whipping her hair she scanned ahead for something interesting, smelling dung from the roadside fields and a hint of distant smoke. Aha, an Indian road block! Or something like it. I Spy with my little eye, something yellow. Actually it was police officers with yellow vests, quite a few of them actually, and a couple motorcycles and cars and lights. Must have been exciting whatever it was. The limo slowed as Rock and Antonio started guessing. But Antonio's guesses stopped as her started mumbling about the way they were being flagged to a complete halt at the checkpoint, when the road was completely empty with no traffic to stop them. It's the police officers at the road block, isn't it! Rock seemed pleased as he came up with the answer even as Antonio had gone back into a semi-alert terminator state again. Good job Rock. He probably missed being in the police. Or maybe not, but it might be traumatic for him to be around so many officers. She decided to help protect him from feeling too bad about it. Taylor leaned almost her whole body out of the still-open window and faced the officers. Antonio looked on in horror, almost lunging to pull her back in like he thought she was going to fall out and they were still moving at high speed -- they were fully stopped at a police checkpoint, what could go so wrong? She thought he was taking his whole guard dog bit just a little too far. Excuse me officers, do you speak English? What seems to be the problem?