stock: typewriter

Title :: A Bit of Intel

Title :: A Bit of Intel
Progress :: 44/100
Fandom :: Resident Evil/BtVS
Word Count :: 690
Prompt :: #90 Angst
Written For :: tth100, twistedshorts
Disclaimer: Resident Evil and all related characters are copyright Shinji Mikami, Sony Pictures Entertainment & Capcom. Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all related characters are copyright Joss Whedon and ME. No infringement intended.

 

A clammy hand gripped her own as the minutes slipped into hours, the day waning towards dusk, and still there was no sign of Angela’s extraction team as Rabbit sat beside Ashford and did her best to distract him. The man was far too brilliant for his own good as he continued to evade her attempts at conversation and comfort as he watched the line of SUVs grow longer and time shorter. She tightened her grip, added a bit more force then was necessary and watched a flinch work its way across the thin line of his mouth before he turned and fixed her with a heated glare—internally she smiled.

 

“Stop.” That calculating gaze narrowed behind wire-frames and she arched a brow, not backing down. “Don’t fret until we know for certain.”

 

“I am not fretting.” The growl to his cultured voice did little to convince her.

 

A harsh breath slide past her lips to the fill the sudden silence between them and Rabbit freed her hand from his as she rose. Began to pace the small confines of the tent she and Ashford were taking up space in and that’s all they were currently doing.

 

Dammit.

 

The opening to the tent separated and Cain filled the small hole as she spun, opened her mouth to snap at him, but the thin set of his stopped her. Pulled her back and she moved to stand behind Ashford, placed her hands on the other man’s shoulders as the Major cleared his throat before stating, “I have unfortunate news.”

 

Rabbit felt Ashford tense and tightened her grip as he made a minute adjustment to the joystick of his electronic wheelchair to turn it more fully toward Cain. “What is it? Where is Angela?” His voice lowered in pitched even as it rose in volume as he reiterated, “Where is my daughter?”

 

Cain merely arched a brow and turned his gaze to Rabbit, made the statement more for her then Ashford. “Angela’s extraction team seems to have simply vanished. We’ve lost radio contact.”

 

There was a pause as Ashford sucked in a ragged breath and Rabbit focused on the most telling bit of his statement and asked, “When did you lose contact?”

 

The Major’s mouth curved inward before he stated, his voice bland, “Several hours ago.”

 

“You son of a bitch!” Rabbit’s hands tensed, fingers digging into Ashford’s shoulders as his body trembled with the violent outburst. “Why didn’t you tell us sooner? How could you allow her to remain in the city unaided?”

 

“If you haven’t noticed, Doctor, I have an outbreak on my hands that takes precedence over one life.” The accent in Cain’s voice had thickened with Ashford’s insult as he continued, “I have been instructed to remove you and the rest of the scientists from the hot zone. I will be arranging your transport—”

 

“I am not leaving without my daughter.”

 

The interruption brought Cain’s spine up straighter and he merely arched a brow as his gaze flicked over the other man. “Yes, well, do what you think is best,” and with those parting words he turned on his heel and left them.

 

“Please.” Rabbit shifted, moving around from the back of Ashford’s chair to come to stand before him with his tired plea and he looked up at her, shoulders hunched as he stated, “Cain likes you,” her brows rose with the idiocy of that statement—Cain was a narcissist who liked no one but himself—and Ashford quickly amended. “He respects you.” She crossed her arms, turned to look at the entrance of the tent as Ashford asked more then stated, “Try to make him understand.”

 

She turned back to him, gazed down at him and saw the years that had been added to Ashford in just a few moments and a bit of intel and as much as she hated Cain, hated the mere thought of being in his presences for a prolonged period of time, she sighed. A brisk nod accompanied the statement, “I’ll do what I can,” and Rabbit left the tent.

 

Left Ashford alone with his grief and ignored her own. .