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Calm Before the Storm

Allan rolled his eyes as she walked out in front of him, but was caught off guard when she asked. "Uh, er… well it's still bleeding a bit but seems fine to walk on." he said. He couldn't imagine what it might have been like by now if she hadn't healed him. He touched his thigh and winced slightly as he became aware of it again. "Dammit," he muttered, standing on the other leg and shaking out his ankle. He caught up with her and looked out to the static grey area where they'd been walking before. The sun was lower now, interrupted by some sparse clouds, but it was still quite hot. Allan wiped his forehead and glanced at Honard momentarily. "Onward and upward," he mumbled, and strode out into the petrifying heat. He began walking in the direction they'd originally been headed, pausing momentarily to check that his gun was still in good form.

He looked around to make sure there couldn't be anybody listening and then leaned towards Honard. He whispered, "Can you please, please just stop with the self-pity thing? I'm going to say this now, quit bitching about what you can't change. The only ugly part of you is your self-loathing. Cut it out."
 
"...Something good came out of it then at least." She said with a nod. She slowed down when he stopped, letting him catch up, then falling in slightly behind him. She didn't really have any idea of where they were going, wanting to make sure he was actually alright as well. She didn't really know what to expect. Even assuming they got the supplies and made it to the camp, what then? She doubted she'd able to follow him around the rest of her life, something she wasn't exactly keen on even if possible.

Honard blinked as he leaned back torwards her and whispered. "Well, what am I supposed to think? I don't even know if I was born with this, or it was some part of whatever experiment caused the... It's not... how the hell do I even describe what the hell happened? I absorbed your wound, or something? It was on the same exact spot on my leg, as yours." She groaned, rubbing her forehead, more confused and unsure than angry. "You hear about any aliens captured, or secret experiments going on around here?" She asked, half-kidding.
 
Allan closed his eyes and tensed his shoulders. He let out an irate-sounding noise and then turned to her, "Actually yes. They captured an alien, tore off its breasts and gave them to you." he muttered, and leered at her. But he couldn't maintain it and laughed it off. "Maybe your cock was there first." he chuckled, grinning at her, "And the rest came afterwards." Allan walked out in front of her put some distance between them in case she decided to start swinging, and turned around, keeping pace while walking backwards. He shrugged as hard as he could. "I know you're confused, Honard, but honestly, there won't be any plastic surgeons around for a goddamn while, so you're just going to have to deal with it."

He paused for a minute and his expression changed. He stopped walking and rejoined her. "Actually come to think of it," he began, his voice a bit quieter, "I think I did hear something a little strange before the war broke out. I read in the paper a few days before the first bombings, that there was some vague pharmaceutical product testing being funded by several unnamed private investors or something, and that the whole project was being investigated for animal cruelty and human rights violations. But the article was a little vague, and it wasn't very big. Moreover, it was in the Business section rather than the Health section, which was unusual. It seemed like a really um, peculiar article, since it didn't really have a lot of relevance to anything." Allan looked up, "Could be that it was targeted to a particular audience. That kind of thing has been done before, especially when there have been important investments in the media made by certain companies. A few years ago there was that exposure catastrophe on the south shore of the continent, and an oil company went out of business. But just before that happened, one of the investors issued a press release stating that they wanted to move on to, 'greener pastures'. I remember it because the um… company I worked for was fronted by a pharmaceutical company that had, earlier that year, also withdrawn all of its assets from the same oil company. I understand that some petroleum products make it into the pharmaceutical industry, but it seemed like really weird timing. My boss got real uptight when he found out, and increased security on all of his premises. He was a paranoid man, mind you, but something really got under his skin about that."

Allan walked beside her in silence for a bit. "But that's all I remember, Honard, and nevertheless I don't think I can give you my word on that since it's all a bit fuzzy." They walked for a ways. The whole incident earlier that day had taken quite a sizeable chunk out of the day and the sun was not very far from the horizon. They'd made good progress however, and so the following day might be a little easier. He yawned as the sun began to hide behind some distant buildings, casting a fuzzy shadow over them. "I say we call it a night soon. We don't want to be stuck trying to find shelter with no light to see. I don't think we should set up camp too close to this area, maybe find something one or two buildings in." He changed his trajectory towards the buildings and continued walking.
 
"So, what, they changed my voice too? Unlikely, doesn't look deforned either. I have er... everything." She said, she wasn't a shemale. She didn't lash out at him again, just listening to his answer about the experiments. "Some weird med they giving to be able to do that..." She said, chuckling. "I'm going to laugh when you fall over that rock..." She chimed in a musical tone, wondering how he would react.

"Company, huh? That sounds a little vague too." She countered, arching an eyebrow. "It's fine... something will come back to me, or i'll never remember, and I guess it wouldn't really matter I guess. I was supposed to be dead, for whatever reason, i'm not." She said with a shrug. She nodded at his suggestion. "Sure, lead the way all-mighty-leader." She smirked, taking on an exaggerated marching walk. "You can sleep first if you want, i'm still... too wound up to sleep right now.
 
…Allan gave a slight chuckle at her obstinacy. "Look all I'm saying is, who cares? Jesus this is the current situation and there's really nothing anybody can do about it." he muttered. He rolled his eyes and then 'tripped', rolling on his back and over his shoulder, onto his knees and right back onto his feet. He stuck out his tongue at her and continued walking backwards…

"Yes it does sound vague. I'm pretty sure that whoever was in charge of the companies, and perhaps whoever was in charge of that article, didn't want any unnecessary information leaking out. Seems logical if they were up to some questionable acts. Anyways I think that's a little beyond us right now. I'm sure that it has something to do with this whole war scenario, but I'm no politician." He replied. They carried on for a ways until the sun had sunk below the buildings.

The sky was a deep blue now, the sun just beginning to melt into the horizon. The clouds rippled with the pink-orange glow of a setting sun. The ruined buildings, grey and dull, gave off a present emptiness, like the skulls of a hundred fallen soldiers worn away with time. Their windows empty eyes, cracked and worn. Allan shivered. The heat had dissipated to some extent but it still was not cold; the air was dry and dusty, but there were clouds on the horizon. They might have rain tomorrow. He stepped up onto a ledge where the buildings began, and started climbing over the rubble of a former market square. Once past the initial crumbled walls, there was a section where the ground had been covered in bright mosaic. Evidently it had taken some damage, and there was rubble everywhere, but close to the end of the section lay a building that was three stories tall, though still short enough to sit below the tall buildings on either side of the square. It seemed intact, and so Allan decided that it was probably a good place to spend the night.

He walked in through the door, gun high, checking to make sure the building was safe. The place was slightly dusty and there didn't seem to be any recent footprints on the stairs. He walked up two sets of stairs until he reached the top floor. It was almost entirely empty besides a couple of broken bottles in a far corner and a table with a broken TV. The barrel of his gun drooped and he looked out of the wide window onto the street. It gave them enough of a view to spot any incoming raiders if need be, and the thick concrete wall was high enough that they'd have good cover if it came to a firefight. He turned to Honard and shrugged. "It's good enough for me," he said as he sat down against the wall, setting his gun down, "What do you think?"

The sun was very low by that time, the sky was a gradient between inky black and a deep royal blue.
 
"Easy for you to Mr. normal." She said with a sigh, but otherwise kept quiet about it. She darted forward as he actually did trip, but he was already back up by the time she was next to him. She huffed and hit his shoulder. "Ass..." Honard muttered. "So, you think that the pharmacutical company is involved in the war? If what I am was an experiment... then I guess it would be pretty useful for treating people on the feild." She thought outloud, her arms crossed under her chest.

The rest of the walk seemed to pass silently, until they came across the rubble of dozens of buildings. "Well, this is going to be fun..." She said as she got onto the ledge, navigating the chunks and bits of rock. "All of this damage, and then suddenly a lone building is perfectly ok? Seems a little odd, doesn't it?" She asked between huffs of breath as they approached the building. When he took his weapon out, she did as well, following close behind him., looking behind occasionally as well. She shrugged slightly at his question. "You're the military man, as long as it wont cave on top of me, it's fine by me. I don't think i'd like to be buried under rubble again, thank you very much." She said, slinging her weapon back over her shoulder. "Are there any animals, or something in the area? Or are we going to have to wait until we raid the raiders?" She asked, referring to food. She wasn't particularly hungry right now, but she knew it would only be a matter of time.
 
He shrugged. "We should be safe here for the night. We can take turns keeping a lookout, though; depending on how tired you are; if you'd prefer to sleep first, be my guest, otherwise just let me know if you see anything suspicious such as flashlights or hear sounds of movement outside. I won't be hard to wake if something does happen." he said, propping his backpack up against the wall. He hauled the strap of the gun over his head and placed it next to him, checking the safety and the chamber. He reached into his bag, retrieved a silencer, and screwed it onto the end of his rifle. Leaning back, he looked up at her. "Don't shoot anybody though. We don't want to reveal our position. If you see anything," he warned, "Tap me on the shoulder or something, but keep calm and keep quiet. We have the advantage of surprise." Allan coughed slightly, clearing his throat, stretched his neck full circle, and rolled onto his side, back facing Honard.


As he drifted off to sleep, Allan's first thoughts settled into a familiar dream. He looked up to find that he was in a dimly lit concrete room, with a steel door directly opposite him. There was a metal table immediately in front of him, and he was sitting on a metal table. His hands were bound together, he once again realized. There was a clock on the wall that he hadn't noticed, it was always there but never the first time he looked. He hung his head and prepared himself. Four fifty nine… five o'clock. The door burst open and he saw two hands land on the table. He waited for the second man to enter, and so he did on cue, arriving slightly later and standing just adjacent. Their demands didn't shake him anymore. "Where is he? Where is he you son-of-a-bitch? Where D'Mâço?" Allan looked up and stared into the eyes of the man. His face was worn, wrinkled. His five o'clock shadow heavy on his aged face. His blue eyes pierced. Allan's face however, remained absent. His head sunk down again and he waited for the chair. Sure enough, he was pulled back away from the table. The old man grabbed the metal table and overturned it. He pulled out a gun. The man adjacent reached out his hand and caught the old man's wrist. "Your orders are not to kill him until we have information, Colonel." said the suited chaperone. The Colonel turned his body and faced down the chaperone. "You never been to an interrogation, boy? You don't know how it's done, so let me do what I do best." He looked at Allan and back at the chaperone. "Fine." he spat, "I won't use bullets, for your sake." The Colonel walked up to Allan and grabbed him by the hair. He pulled his head back and cracked the side of the pistol across Allan's face. The chair and its client toppled. Allan coughed blood and looked up at the Colonel, his eyes cold with disdain. "Alright I'll tell you," he said, smiling, "He's fucking your mother in her grave." The Colonel's eyes flared and he pulled back the hammer on the gun. He aimed at Allan's head and pulled the trigger– just as the chaperone grabbed the Colonel's wrist. Allan screamed in agony as the bullet pierced his shoulder. He closed his eyes– when he opened them, all three men, the Colonel, the chaperone and the silent attendant, were gone. The room was empty but the pain remained. This is not how the dream happened. This was far different. He winced in anticipation of a boot to the throat, but it wasn't met. He cringed in anticipation of a knife across the back, but it wasn't met. Allan struggled slightly. His eyes drifted towards the hall. They widened as he saw Honard running towards him from beyond the darkness. "H-Honard? What are you doing here? This isn't…" he paused, it was a dream after all. She crouched by him and put her finger to her lips. Her hand drifted towards his wound and he tried to roll away, "No, don't– you'll be…" Honard touched the wound, and suddenly it was gone. She seemed unperturbed, smiling lightly down at him. He gazed up at her with confusion, and she knelt down and kissed him. The room darkened.

Allan surfaced and shook out his head. He looked around. Swimming in shallow water beneath the opening to a shallow cave. It was one of his favourite places as a child, a small cove right near his parents' house. He'd often gone swimming, but had never told anybody how to reach the cove. Even his parents hadn't known about it. His quiet spot, his alone place, his fortress of solitude. Allan smiled and floated on his back, swimming lazily towards the cave. As he slowly beached upon the thin crescent of soft white sand, he sighed happily. It had been so long. He wondered if the war had changed it, if the spot was still intact. Closing his eyes for a moment, he reached his hands behind his head and stretched, yawning. As his eyes fluttered open once more, he stared up at Honard, who was now apparently straddling his waist. Stunned, he said nothing, but opened his mouth. Honard sat up and bit her lip, revealing that she was wearing a bathing suit. Top and shorts, of course. At last he managed, "How did you find this place? Only I've ever…" Awestruck was he as Honard discarded her top, her breasts bouncing lightly. Water dripped slowly from her hair and down across her breasts and shoulders and down her arms. She smiled at him and put her forearms together, concealing her nipples again, and nibbled her finger. She got off of him and stood up, back facing him. Slowly, he stood, his eyes gazing down at the sand as he came first to his knees, but as he began to look up, his eyes caught only the falling pair of shorts as they collided with the sand. Slowly his eyes ran up her legs until they were greeted with her supple bottom. His jaw loosened slightly and his eyes crawled up her back. He smiled slowly and she looked at him over her shoulder. Walking forward, he reached his arms around her– but suddenly found her grasp quite cold on his wrist. She twisted his arm over her head, forcing her way behind him, and pushed him into the sand, "What the fuck are you d–" suddenly he felt his trunks drop and her hands grasp his butt. "Hey now wait just a damn minute," he managed, and then found that he couldn't breathe.

A fiery pain tore across his back and he screamed in agony. When he opened his eyes, he was back in the grey room. He coughed and sputtered, wheezing heavily. His throat felt like it had been flattened. His eyes darted around, panicked. This was far worse than anything Honard could ever possibly do; he felt a boot collide with his stomach and he rolled onto his front, propping himself up with his knees. His back burned, and he saw the floor on either side of him gain a minute speckle of blood. To his left, more blood as it had been scooped out of his back by that razorblade. The Colonel laughed, the chaperone in a heap beside the door. "Won't talk, huh you little bastard? Maybe I should kill you. It'd be a favour to every decent citizen on the planet." Allan coughed, pink saliva draining onto the floor. "You think I chose this? Fuck you." he wheezed. The Colonel knelt by his side, and grabbed Allan's hair. "Yes, shit. You did choose it. You chose it by not ending your miserable life sooner." Allan felt his head race towards the floor.


He sat up, heart in his throat. Covering his mouth, he muted a cough the best he could, but his heart was still racing. His arms and legs were shivering at an impossible pace. Pushing himself back up against the wall, he pulled his knees to his chest and clung to them steadfast. Allan closed his eyes and tried to restore his breathing. His body was still shaking, but soon he managed to calm himself. Slowly he opened his eyes and blinked. Everything was normal. He wasn't in that room anymore.
 
"Mmhmm... you go ahead and sleep first, lazy sod." She said with a smirk, taking up a position that overlooked the area. She paced back and forth occasionally, unable to stay still for more than a few minutes at a time as thoughts of what was happening plagued her mind. Honard looked over at him as he started to fidget in his sleep, making strange noises. She considered waking him, but let it go, rubbing her forehead.

It was another hour or so before he started again, seeming to have woken up this time. She walked over next to him and sank into a squating position with her legs folded back completely. "You alright? Seemed like you had a pretty rough dream." She said, looking at him intently. "Thought you were going to alert the raiders at one point, you were scratching at your neck." She said, shuffling back a little to give him room. "You can go back to sleep if you want... it's only been three or so hours." She said with a nod.
 
Allan shivered and looked at her. "Back to sl– no. No thank you, I'm far too… awake right now." he stuttered, clambering to his feet. He walked over to the table and put his palms down on the edge, leaning forward slightly. His head hung down and he breathed very deeply. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. At last, the shaking subsided and he stood up. He looked to her as if to say something but looked away and stopped himself. Walking back to his gun, he picked it up, and pushed a button on either side of the barrel. Prop legs folded out beneath it and he returned to the table, putting the gun down, propped up on the gunner pods, muzzle facing out the window. He looked out the window into the night sky. The stars had finally come out into full view, the moon just barely across the apex of the sky. Allan put his hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose, pressing his eyes tightly together. An image flashed into his head: The Colonel and seeing down the muzzle of his gun. Suddenly another: Honard staring down at him with a meek but meaningful smile.

"Fuuuuck." he groaned meekly, sitting down on the table. He balled and unballed his fists, his eyes tightly clenched. Again he calmed himself, pressing his palms into the table. He looked up at Honard and meekly said, "You get some rest. I'll be up for a while anyways." He hopped up onto his feet, a very mild clack as his boots hit the floor. "Actually, Honard. There's something I'd like your help with… ah, err… you know, it would be best if we talked about it in the morning." he muttered. He stifled a blush and turned quickly, and began fidgeting with his gun. Why did it have to be so confusing? Confounding even. Why had those dreams been lumped together? There were too many questions. He cursed under his breath.
 
She stood up as he did, watching him as he walked over to the table, visibly shaken from whatever nightmare he had. "Ah, nightmare about me, huh? Told ya it was freaky." She said with a chuckle, clearly a teasing tone. She arched an eyebrow as he groaned. She walked up behind him, her hand resting on his shoulder. "You sure you're alright Allan?" She asked, a little more than concerned now.

She waited until he confirmed he was alright, even if it was a lie before going to lay down. "Alright... just, wake me in a few hours. We can walk in the moon light for awhile..." She murmurred with a yawn, curling up on the ground, leaning against the wall. It took her about ten minutes before sleep finally took her.

Her dream was fuzzy, like a staticy television. Non-descript rooms flashed in front of her, large areas, small, lab like areas, faceless people... It finally stopped after awhile, her vision spinning until it rested on someone. It was clearly female, given the chest. The figure walked up to her, kissing her passionately. It caught Honard off gaurd and she tumbled backward, through another blaze of rooms, once again, finding herself in a labratory. "W-what is going on?" She called out groggily, her voice sounding scratchy.. The same figure appeared before her. "Come now... you know you need to relax for the test... can't very well do that with you like that." the female said, gesturing down to her groin. Honard's eyes widened, blushing a deep shade of red, finding her shaft to be fully errect, bobbing lewdly in the air. The female walked forward, grasping her errection and stroking it rapidly.

She squirmed, her breath hitching in her throat as her eyes darted around. She spotted several other shapes, all of them in lab coats, watching her impatiently. "N-no! Stop, not while they're watching." She thrashed on the table, manacles suddenly grabbing at her wrists and legs. "Easy now, it doesn't have to be that difficult. I took this position to help you, now just relax before you get both of us killed!" The woman whispered, stroking faster, while inserting an IV drip of some unknown liquid into her arm, causing her to cry out in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

She fell again, finding herself in a small room with just a bed, toilet and sink. She looked around, rubbing her arm, seeing several patches of scars and needle makrs along her arm. The female was there again, but not in lab coat... she was wearing plain clothes, like Honard was. "Another nightmare? Don't worry, I know we'll both get through this. Let me help you relax for now..." Her companion coo'd, getting between Honard's legs. Her eyes widened, the form was still fairly vague, but Allan's face was there now as 'she' went down on Honard.

She woke with a start, her breathing, erratic as her eyes opened. The way she was curled up, it was hard to notice by looking, but she was very firmly errect, having woken up just before reaching climax. Even so, she could feel the wetness between her thighs, her face a very bright shade of red as she hugged her knees up to her chest, trying to calm down.
 
As he sobered up, as if aided by her commentary, he became visibly irate. God, shut up. he thought, You're not the only subject of my concerns, so get that into your thick head, I had a flashback– He was exceptionally close to slapping her and was even closer to speaking his mind, quite fed up with her constant self-deprecation. Allan calmed himself and remained silent. She didn't need to know about it. "I'm… fine." he managed calmly, eyes downcast.

He looked over at her when she rolled over. Go for a walk… he thought. Allan smiled and looked back out the window. The moon was only a crescent shape but it reflected enough light onto the brittle land to bathe it in the faintest grey. He waited a few dozen minutes until she fell asleep, and walked back down the stairs. As he reached the first step, he sat down on the third, swinging one of his legs up across the step and leaning against the stairwell wall. His head fell lightly back against it and he closed his eyes. It wasn't the first time he'd experienced an interrogation flashback– and it certainly wouldn't be the last. But the interrogation flashback itself was not causing him a great deal of grief. It was alarming, but not nearly as alarming as the involvement of Honard. He was completely unsure of what to think now, between what he'd seen in his dream and in real life. It was so vivid and clear, in both its dazzling simplicity and its disturbing conclusion. His mind returned to that brief excerpt on the beach, but he stopped himself just before Honard's appearance.

Allan stoop up suddenly and walked down the last step into the abandoned ground floor. It was blank just like the room above. He paced back and forth, his shoulders tense. Honard's a nice girl. Confused, maybe a little frightened, possibly a little isolated. But she isn't interested in you, yet somehow she is haunting your dreams. Confront it. he thought to himself. After a moment he stopped again and returned to the stairs. He sat down much in the same way as before, and closed his eyes. He envisioned Honard looking down at him, her reveal and her naked silhouette… and suddenly his mind jumped to the moment where he was shoved into the sand. His shoulders tensed and he shook out his head. Resigned, he headed back upstairs.

Only to find her curled up and stuttering gibberish in her sleep. Concerned, he jumped over to her and knelt by her, her back turned to him. "Honard." he said, placing his hand gently on her arm. Allan hopped gingerly over her and crouched, eyes trained on her face. Her eyebrows were furrowed with concern. It looked as though she was having troublesome dreams as well. Allan placed his hand on her shoulder and, just as he was about to shake her, noticed the protrusion just beyond her knees. He hiccuped and fell back for a second. It took him a moment before he realized what was going on. Slowly a smile spread across his face and he chuckled very lightly as he stood up. "Oh Honard…" he muttered, preventing a laugh, "I wonder what you're dreaming about, you lucky girl."

He shook his head and smiled, but his smile faded as he walked towards the window. Allan hopped up and sat on the table, his hands jutting back to keep his torso upright, and his legs casually propped up on the window ledge. Bringing up one of his knees slightly, he propped the arch of his boot on the corner of the window ledge and turned his torso to peer momentarily at Honard. Still fast asleep, giving off little jumbles of sounds as she enjoyed whatever it was she did. He turned his focus back outside the window, but then closed his eyes. Suddenly, a new image appeared in his mind.

Honard sat on her heels directly in front of him, her head down slightly, wholly naked, as was he. She leaned forward slightly and turned her body, looking at him over her shoulder. Sweat beaded down her back. They were back on the beach, this time it was night time, lit up by a full moon. Allan had himself never been there at night, yet this seemed exactly as it might be. He was confused, until Honard sat back, this time sliding herself onto his lap. He was already erect, and so, apparently, was she, as he could feel his penis pry out between her thigh, and her own shaft. The sensation made him exceptionally nervous, and more than a little confused. She adjusted her shaft and pressed her thighs together, and Allan felt his cock suspended between the trifecta of thighs and shaft. He struggled, trying to remove himself and spare himself the guilt and confusion, but as he pulled his head out from between her thighs, she swiftly sat back down again, forcing his cock out between them again. "Stop that," he said, and although she remained silent, she pressed her thighs together harder and dug her heels into Allan's thighs. This time he tried to push her away, and although she hardly resisted as she fell forward onto her hands and knees, she slowly rose to her knees and turned towards him. "You think I'm a freak." she said, her voice full of disappointment. Allan paused and tried to speak. He found that he could say nothing, but sorrowful resignation loomed powerful over his head. Finally, "No, Honard, I… I wish you could understand why I…" and then he came to the earth-shattering realization that he had nothing to fear. Conflict had given him more solace in war than in peace, and perhaps his violent experiences had shaped his misgivings about people. Either way, his apprehension faded and he sat up. Reaching around her. He kissed her neck– bit it, and gently grasped her cock. And it felt strange at first, touching a penis that was not his own, and then there was nothing to it. He sighed gently into her ear, and suckled on her earlobe as he slowly slid his hand up and down her length. Honard made some strange erratic breathing noises, shifted forward, and then Allan felt the tip of his own rigid penis brush against her lips.

His eyes flashed open and he found himself hunched forward, one knee against his chest, the opposite hand loosely draped over the edge of the table. What was more, he felt his pants taut against the tip of his now painfully turgid shaft. "Fuck," he grunted, blinking rapidly. His eyes flicked over his shoulder nervously. To his relief, Honard was still asleep, curled up on the floor. He breathed deep, restoring order to his body. There was a cooling wetness bothering his left thigh– just above his gunshot wound. He cursed again and stood up, brushing dust off of his butt, given the dusty table. He tried not to think of what he'd just experienced. Evidently he was very tired, delirious or something. He heard Honard shuffle and finally come into wakefulness. Allan rolled his eyes and, first quickly checking to make sure he was… fully flaccid, walked over to her. He peered down at her from a couple of feet away. "Sleep well?" he asked, smiling.
 
Honard was still quite red as she looked away from him. "J-just fine... How long was I asleep?" She asked, trying to will herself soft. She closed her eyes tightly, images from her dream still flashing in her mind, recalling the dream rather vividly. She stood up slowly, pushing her knee to adjust her errection so it wasn't quite so obvious. "I need to piss." She said bluntly as she walked out, going to the lower level of the building. She looked around, making sure there wasn't anyone, or anything. She sighed and leaned back slightly against the wall. She didn't need to, but she focused, and let out a small stream, mostly so he wouldn't get suspicious as she tried to calm her self down.

She managed to succeed a few minutes later, shaking herself off before returning. "I'm not going to be able to get anymore sleep, there's plenty of moonlight until the sun rises, let's get going now." She said as she returned, visibly more relaxed, hoping he hadn't noticed earlier. "Or are we going to stay here and you'll train me now?" SHe asked, just wanting to stay awake and take her mind off the images.
 
Allan shrugged and pulled the strap of his gun over his shoulder. "Three, four hours. I dunno, moon's shifted a bit, but it's still night time. You can sleep some more if you really feel like it, but you looked like you were having some err… discomforting dreams." he said, suppressing a snicker. He leaned against the wall of the stairs to let her pass and coughed subtly, "Not surprising." He waited patiently for a few minutes as she did her business– like a man, it certainly sounded. Allan opened his eyes slightly in surprise. So– was she primarily male? He shook off the idea, preventing himself from continuing to speculate on her gender. That was her business. For an instant, his second dream popped back into mind, quickly replaced by the first. He shuddered and wrung out his hands, then slowly stepped down the stairs. "I could do with a walk, actually." he replied, making his way down the stairs and out the front door.

The air was cold but damp. He took a deep breath and understood that there might be rain in the morning. There were a few clouds in the sky, though not many, so he suspected it would only be mild. Enough to cool down the earth and make the following days unpleasantly humid. Allan gave a resigned grunt and checked his gun. He wouldn't be able to train her out on the open like this. Guns would have to wait until he was sure that the area was secure. CQB could be done, such as hand-to-hand combat. Actually he'd have to teach her some tricks about cover tactics and target painting, which would probably make her the most useful in a combat situation. She'd need to know some cover tactics so as not to die, and target painting would help him eliminate hostiles more efficiently.

"Honard," he said, "You mentioned earlier about some… distraction tactic or something. What did you intend to do, exactly? I mean, diversions are great, but I don't want you getting, y'know, shot."
 
She twitched, staring at him. Had he seen already? The thought made her blush heavily and looks away. "Don't need anymore sleep... or weird dreams." She muttered under her breath. "Let's just get going, unless you want to train me now. No sense in staying around here." She said, heading torwards the door now.

She chuckled, giving her chest a slight grope. "Nudity should be a fairly good distraction, don't you think? WHile they're staring at my chest, you shoot them from behind. When they turn around to face you, I can get a few shots of my own. The rifle is too big to hide obviously... but I can fit the pistol into the waist band behind my back. As long as their numbers aren't too great... it should work, yes?" She asked, letting her chest go, causing her breasts to wobble slightly. "And if they decide to shoot me, it looks like I can just heal up after it. Just make sure not to kill them all." She said with a nod. It posed the least amount of risk for him, and she was fairly confident she would be fine.

She shrugged slightly, starting to walk. "I figure, it's our best option, right? Hell, I bet they would be really distracted if after a minute, i'd drop my pants too. That may get me a few more bullets though..." She said, laughing at the idea, thinking of the looks on their faces. "In any event, I think it's our best option until we find out how good of a shot I am in an actual combat situation." She said, rubbing the back of her head. "Because, i'd rather not either of us being shot too much, it still hurts like hell."
 
Allan looked at Honard with more than a speck of surprise. "You're gonna wh–" he began, but paused suddenly as a smile spread across his face. "Well jee, you don't know if that'll work. I mean the pants thing might work as a shock and awe thing for a second but then you've got your trunks around your ankles. So much for mobility." Allan put his arm around her neck, "Plus!" he said, grin widening, "What about me? What if I catch a glimpse of your knockers and find myself debilitated?" He let go of her and walked out in front, turning around with his hands on his hips. His smile had turned snide and his eyebrow was raised. "C'mon, Honard. Yeah, flashing a group of guys who haven't seen tits in a year will probably work. But I'm one of those guys." he laughed, turning his back to her again.

"Tell you what," he said, "Tonight, let's do some CQB training. That way, worst-case scenario, at least you have some melee tricks. Brute-forcing is probably not a good plan for someone like you, so a better strategy might involve me doing the brute-forcing while you flank and pick off spares. That distraction technique of yours will only work once per encounter at best, so better make it worthwhile when you do put it to use."
 
She smirked at hims reaction. "Indeed. It may not work for very long, but enough for us to gain the advantage." She said, shrugging slightly. She blinked at his second comment. "I would drop them completely and kick them off. Or I could simply walk up to them naked, maybe cake some dirt on my arms or legs." She mused, blinking again as he suddenly wrapped his arm around her neck, nearly hitting him on reflex.

"Oh? I bet you caught a glance when I was unconcious when you found me, the shirt was certainly torn enough so that you saw it." She countered, poking his forehead before he got away. "Or, rather than coming from directly behind them, come from the side and don't look at me. Or, if nothing else, I could show you now, so you wont be distracted now." She offered with a grin, starting to lift her shirt, stopping just as the flesh of her breasts became visible before dropping it again. A soft shiver running through her spine despite the heat.

She tilted her head. "QCB?" She asked, unsure of what the acronym stood for. She figured it was up close, but was just unsure of exactly what it was. "I think the distraction will be our best bet. The... whatever training is a good idea though. I get up close, you shoot a few of them, then I kick their asses . Sounds fun." She said with a broad grin.
 
Allan shrugged at her suggestion. "Then you'd be naked and promptly raped, I'd suspect. Too risky. That's the kind of damage that doesn't heal." he said, shaking his head, "B'sides, raiders would shoot you and then fuck you. Thanks for that, though. Glad you think I'm some huge pervert, though, thanks really: maybe I should've taken the opportunity back then to feel you up before I carried you out of there." He rolled his eyes as hard as he could and smiled. His eyes snapped down as she began lifting up her shirt. His eyebrow peaked and then her shirt fell back down. He shrugged resignedly and put a hand on her shoulder. "I do think it would be important for you to know some basic CQB manoeuvres. CQB being 'Close-Quarters Battle', or in other words, minimal distance combat. That means hand-to-hand as well as small-munitions… But that, Honard? Racy even for you. I almost thought you were serious. Have you really thought this through, though? I mean if you're uncomfortable with the idea even now, then should we come into a combat situation where the people you'd be, potentially, flashing are complete strangers… All I'm saying is that you don't seem like you'd be particularly eager to get naked." Then, with a cheeky and altogether snide grin, "But do feel free to prove me wrong."
 
"With it hanging between my legs? Not likely. If they got close, you'd just shoot them. Either you're there in time, or I die. Not like I remember who I am, and I doubt it even really matters at this point. This shit hole would still go on, eh? Risky, sure. But effective. Other than that, we both just sneak up on them from either side? That's a lot more risky for you, isn't it?" She asked, smirking as he stared at her chest intently before she lowered her shirt back down.

"I guess you would be too distracted, staring even when I have it on." She smirked at him "You shouldn't be risking yourself when it doesn't need to be. I'm only here because of you. I owe you." She said, her tone becomming serious. "Short of that, any other ideas? It's possible I had some form of training... I'd like to help out, rather than be a burden. If it means I end up killing someone so we stay alive... so be it. Though, I don't suppose negotiation is an option with them?" She asked, chuckling. She highly doubted that, the area seemed to be very old-ways, kill or be killed. Which made his actions all the more strange as she thought about it. "So, when we stop for breaks, you'll give me the hand to hand training? Do you have any small blades?"
 
Allan rolled his eyes. "Pff. Well what did you expect? I haven't seen boobs in like a year, for one, and for two, there is no way in hell I would have believed you flashing anything without actually seeing it with my own eyes. Oh look and you didn't even do it." He flashed her a 'told you so' smile and started walking in front of her. "Owing is a little subjective I guess. I mean if you hadn't been there when I'd been shot. Let's say if I got shot at some point and not having you around… there's a good chance I would have died. Like I said, it's subjective. And I appreciate the company, too. God knows I was on the verge of psychosis I'm sure. I don't see you as a burden. Most of the time." Allan kicked a rock passively and kept the sly smile to himself. "I know I won't get anywhere being contrarian, so fine: you owe me. I don't know what you owe me, though, so we'll have to forget about it for now."

He took a step back and smiled. "Forget about knives, Honard, you need to know how to use your own capabilities to full advantage before you begin considering additional armaments. Tomorrow I'll train you in how to maintain your weapon, which is important, and then we'll work on some basic cover tactics. Rolling to cover, 'duckwalking', etcetera… I guess the first thing you should know is how to block a punch." He turned to face her with his arms loosely hanging about his waist. "Imagine someone is punching you," he said, making a fist, "What would be your first reaction?" Suddenly he turned his body sharply and his arm jutted out, and stopped just in front of her face. "Most of us would put a hand up or something and try to counter the force with force. But that doesn't usually work. Instead, a better, a more efficient way of doing it is simply to redirect the force. In fact, eventually you might learn how to redirect an opponent's force back into them, effectively using their own momentum to damage or debilitate them."
 
"So difficult to believe? You just met me. The only real issue is down below." She said with a shrug. Alrighty though, here you go." She said, giving no flourish or slowing of movement as she raised her shirt above her breasts. They bounced as they were freed, each covered with a few scars, only two of them really visible from his distance. They were a modest size, and rather firm as well. "Damn... should have bet on it..." She said with a smirk, fighting back another shiver as she lowered her shirt back down.

"You also could have run into a millionaire who hired you, if you hadn't run into me. You could have survived that on your own, albeit with less blood. I might not have woken up at all." She said, staring at him. "Oh come on. Don't give me that 'your weapon is an extension of yourself' bull." She said, blinking a few times as the words seemed to echo in her mind, as if she had heard them before. She stopped walking for a few moments, trying to grasp at the memory. She sighed, shaking her head as she started to walk again. She twitched, nearly walking into his fist, her hand shooting up to intercept, grasping onto him and bringing it down. If he had continued with the motion, she had a feeling her own would have continued as well. She let out a huff of air. "Huh... guess I already have kind of training... best watch your hands..." She said with a slight grin, letting go of his fist.
 
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