Thread: Saving Elizabeth {The Gothic Temptress and Alan23}

Elizabeth rolled her eyes when he instantly replied with another cheeky comeback. Her earlier headache, which she had forgotten about due to the thugs, began to resurface with an intensity and she hoped that Rocking would stop with his useless blabber. Tilting her head back on the wall, she allowed her eyes to be shut and drowned out his voice. Or at least tried to. I can't actually verify it, of course, but I strongly suspect it's the charming Psycho whose been given first watch just the other side of the door here. For all his posturing, he's actually the least dominant of the three. The taffy is the most self-assured, and the cockney sparrer is - well, I doubt he'd take shit from anyone. But it's the geordie that's the weak link in the chain, and it's him we need to work on. Elizabeth almost scoffed at his pretentious assumptions. As if a lowly clerk would be aware of what were the weak spots in those brutes. He was probably just going on to show her how high and mighty he was, something he had been doing since the morning. Getting untied from these ropes would be easy enough - I've already managed it enough to do three quarters of the job, but I can't go any further without making it obvious what I've done when they come back. And I prefer to keep any gains we make a bit of a secret until we have to. She peeled her eyes open at that, hope and curiosity fueling her actions and true to his words, Rocking's binds seemed less constricting than hers. Her eyes quickly darted to his face. He was calm and casual as if he were discussing the weather, not a possible chance they had at survival. The intuition she had conceived before about him, that he seemed like he had more layers to him, blossomed again and she found herself intrigued by the man. For the first time since ages, Elizabeth Dwight's eyes held no contempt or coldness in them, and instead regarded Rocking with curiosity and something akin to respect. Her features were also greatly affected by this shift they morphed into a soft acknowledgement of the fact that she did not see him beneath her - at least for the time being - and her visage almost looked childlike. Like some student gazing up at their newest tutor, unsure about the authenticity of their knowledge and yet curiously accepting it. And like me you probably heard the lock click after they left, so getting out of here is going to be a long-term job. I could do it with a lock-pick, but I left mine behind. You don't expect to need it when you're the mail boy for a cosmetics company, do you? So, I guess you'll agree, it's a case of watching and waiting for the immediate future, at least. There's three expert thugs, highly trained, and well-armed on their side, and all we've got is our minds. Once I manage to get hold of one of their guns, we'll still be out-gunned, so we need a bit more in our favour. Elizabeth did not miss the self-assured 'when' and that somehow seemed to assuage her nerves just the tiniest little bit. Rocking may not have been a competent records clerk yet she doubted that he was better at these thuggish arts. Well , she thought with slight mirth, suits him perfectly. I should have known that that cheeky arrogance can only belong to the streets. Now, what I strongly expect this boss-man to do is send a ransom note to your father. Is dad likely to pay up? If so, that's hopeful, but we can't rely on it. Guys like this have been known to take the money and not deliver, hold out for another pay-out. And in the meantime, we can't be sure that they won't try little tricks just to confirm their bona-fides. Things like cutting off a finger, and sending it to him, that kind of thing. Though on balance I doubt it. More likely they'll want to hand you over in one piece. Thing is about professional kidnappers, you see, is that they do this kind of thing a lot. And one day, they're going to get caught, and they won't want a lot of past GBH charges hanging over them. A soft sigh escaped her lips at that particular thought of Rocking. Listen now, you might be more comfortable and experienced in this environment but I think you got it wrong there, she began in a slightly tentative note, like someone younger interrupting an older, adept person in their speech, Didn't you hear them right there? They were talking about gaining some kind of information. And I know, I know. You will say that they just said that to mislead me from their motives, but in my opinion I don't think anyone would kidnap me to ask for ransom from Father. I mean, I have established myself fairly well. I am not some Daddy's helpless little princess that someone would seize me and try to shake some cash out of Daddy's pocket. Especially since my father is not that public about his affections for me. In front of everyone, he is my boss and I am his employee. It's like he is cold and indifferent towards me, which he sometimes is in private too ... The last part was mumbled tightly and not meant for his ears. But anyways, my point is if anyone would have wanted to get the best out of my father's bank account, they would have captured my brother. Everyone in the United Kingdom knows how much Harold Dwight loves his littlest son, which is the reason he is such an obnoxious brat, her lip curled in a playful sneer at the mention of her little brother....whom she might not ever see again. She gulped down the wave of sadness and concentrated on the task at hand. You get my drift? I don't think anyone would target me for gaining ransom. I think it is something else. I mean...Yes, I have got hell lot of rivals who will tear me down without batting an eye if they get the chance...But who will stoop to kidnapping? Not only it is dangerous but also corporate suicide. If they get found out, their whole life is going to be shattered into a million shards. I suspect that anyone who has done this must be really, really brave. And a son of a bitch . The curse escaped her lips before she could censor it and a grimace settled on her lips. Hanging out with lowly people had really lowered her own standard. She shrugged when Rocking mentioned his facial wound. Living with Henry, who had a certain penchant of getting into brawls even though he would be out with a couple of blows, had her habituated to gruesome wounds. She felt indifferent about them. Though part of her - the silly part - was slightly disappointed that his attractive face had been marred. She mentally slapped herself for that particular thought. OK, plans. Now, unless you have any better idea - and, with all due respect, I doubt you do - I suggest that you keep up the act of being a docile little lamb when in their presence, as if you're scared out of your wits. It was a great idea to put that act on, and it's going to help a lot once we get a chance to turn the tables. She almost wanted to poke her tongue at him when he mentioned her inadequacy at forming any plans but stopped herself as he spoke about her 'act of being a docile lamb'. She frowned at that. Did he think that she was so cold and distant that she had lost the capability of expressing her emotions? That any showcase of such things was just an act? She had a small, vague feeling that his words were meant to provide comfort and meant something else yet the dominant thoughts were quick to suppress those. She had begun to think that Rocking saw her more than some robot that ruled over everyone's ass with her cold iron fist. She thought he viewed her as human female who sometimes needed to be brought down a few notches Even though she certainly disliked that part of him. But no, Rocking too assumed her to be some calculating, hollow woman who exploited every possible chance she could gain. Did her genuine fear and distress all seemed fake? Her head began to throb with increased vigor and she deemed her thoughts as irrational and choppy, assuming her earlier position of rest. She was aware of Rocking mentioning something about boy-legs and urine but she could not muster up enough strength to consider his statements. Also, she ignored it vehemently as talking of relieving oneself always created the need to relieve herself for her and right now, it was the last thing she wished to do. But then - Now, the shuffling I can hear suggests either mice or rats. If they do come and investigate us - and they probably will, some time during the night - I've always found kicking them away works wonders. Once they see something isn't easy prey they tend to back off. You're not the kind of girl whose scared of rats, I hope? At first she did not respond to him at all. One might have thought that she hadn't heard him in the first place. However actually, she was processing his words, imagining all sorts of vermin crawling up her body, into her clothes. And with small shriek she jumped and had deposited herself on Rocking's lap, all curled up so that not a single part of her touched the disgusting floor, clutching at his shirt as she buried her face in his neck. As if to mock her further, there was a distinct scurrying noise in the room and Elizabeth pressed herself more firmly against Rocking's body. She did not care that she breasts were completely smashed up against Rocking's chest, or the fact that she could feel his breath tickle her hair every time he exhaled or when hers whispered across his neck. She certainly did not care that her body was pressed up so tightly to him that she could feel every little contour of his physique, or that her derriere was in complete contact with his groin, or the fact that she was popping some of the buttons of his shirt from the deathly grip she had on the said item of clothing. All she cared about was getting as far as humanly possible from the rats that seemed to haunt the place. Elizabeth could handle any sort of trouble that ever dawned upon her company yet she was more afraid of rats than people were scared of ghosts. She had been fortunate enough to have avoided them most of her life but today all her luck had drained out faster than fine sand through fingers. She snuggled closer to Rocking and whimpered when there was a particularly loud sound of scuffling.