Ridiculous: Mattory

26: Gun at a Knife Fight

A/N: Please enjoy one of my all time favorite sketches before things in here get real.

Mallory

I open my eyes—or at least I think I do. It's so dark I can't even tell the difference. I go to wave my hand in front of my face and instead end up yelping in pain as something cold and hard digs into my wrists.

Okay.

This was bad.

I take a deep breath and shut my eyes again—having them open wasn't doing me any good and it helped me to focus on my other senses for a moment. The air in my lungs is musty and smells of garbage and mold. Despite the cool air, sweat leaves a tickling trail down my back and I squirm. Hard metal meets my back when I do, leaving me with the mental image of a folding chair.

Well, that was something at least.

Then again, it appears I'm also handcuffed.

I make an effort to slow my breaths and hear something creak above my head. That and the utter lack of light leads me to think I'm in some sort of basement.

The next sound that meets my ears might as well have been an angel choir for the joy it brings me. "Mal? Are you there?"

"Matt?" I say, and despite the situation, let out a hysterical laugh of relief.

"Where are you?"

"No idea," I reply. "Sounds like you're behind me, though."

"Can you remember what happened?" he asks.

"Sort of." I pause and think about the last thing I remember. We were leaving the studio... "It's starting to come back to me."

There's a scraping noise that sounds like metal on concrete. "Talk to me about it, then. We can fill in the holes of what's going on and I'll try to come find you from your voice."

"I'm assuming you're tied up too, aren't you?"

A beat of silence passes before he answers me. "I did a tango while pretending to be glued to an office chair and once climbed on Jason's shoulders while handcuffed. I think I can manage to find my way across a basement even if I'm currently both handcuffed and stuck to a chair."

I can't quite hide a snort, or keep the word "Men," from escaping my mouth.

"What now?"

"Nothing." Oh, I certainly did pick one to fall madly in love with, didn't I?

"Right. Talk to me, Mal."

"Run for your life, Pretty Boy." Luke's voice reached my ear and I didn't even hesitate—before a conscious thought escaped my mind I spun around and stomped on his instep, hard.

He yelped in pain and let out a cuss. I found myself starting to back away, fight-or-flight response already in full swing. I was dimly aware of Matt putting himself between the two of us, but there was little I could think of beside my heaving chest and pounding heart.

"Damn, I forgot how feisty you could be sometimes, babe." There was a sick feeling rising in me as Luke straightened up. "But forget about me," he said, lowering his voice and glancing urgently around. "Just get in your car and get out of here. Out of the city, out of the state, I don't care."

"Why should I listen to a word that comes out of your mouth?" Matt said, his voice dangerously low.

"Because I'm not the real enemy here," Luke replied. "I know that's what you think but I swear I'm not. I'm trying to help. I'm not the one you have to watch out for..." He trailed off, his eyes going wide as his gaze locked onto something behind me.