Kingbury one-shots

The restaurant, Pt.2

James stared at that article in the paper. That goddamn night at the restaurant had cost him his job, his apartment. He was only doing what he thought they deserved. it was against gods will! It was only a cup of soup, anyway. He threw down the paper and scooped up the gun beside it. He was going to end all this, right now.

~~~~~~~~~over at the resteraunt~~~~~~~~~

Samuel couldn't help but be glad that the article was a success. His restaurant was getting more attention than ever, and they had opened a second location in uptown new york. They could've done it twice BEFORE the article, but Samuel was always one to be cautious. 

"Order for Cameron!" he called. A shorter man with glasses came u and grabbed the bag, handing over twenty dollars. Samuel dug through the cash register, emerging with the man's change.

"Alright, everyone! last calls for food before closing!" One or two people joined the line to order dessert. Samuel took the whiteboard cards they had marked with their orders, taking them down on a notepad and sticking it on the order board. Soon, everybody had taken their food,   and it was left to Samuel to close up. George would pick him up in about ten minutes. He swept the floor in the front and went to the back to pour it into the dust pail. He put up the broom and went back into the front of the restaurant, picking up the stray receipts littering the floor variously.  He heard the tinkling of the bell and came up from behind the counter.

"Sorry, were closed." He turned around to see the man from the night of the incident. His heart skipped a beat. He spotted the black gun in his hand. He stepped to the side, his hand reaching the red button under the counter. He pressed it down, holding it, making sure he was pressing it. The police would be here in less than two minutes, but it took half a second to pull a trigger. 

"You think you can ruin my life and get away with it?" He growled. Samuel didn't say anything. He glanced at the gun, then at the door. There was a cellar that he could get into that locked from the inside to his left. he knew that he couldn't make it. It was a tricky door, and you had to pull a few times to get it open. He'd lived in new york for long enough to know how long it takes for somebody to jump over a counter. Oh, god, what happened if George came in.

"you can't. That's why you're husband is gone find you, bleedin' on the floor." Samuel's breath hitched. He was starting to hear the police sirens going off, getting closer. The door was wide open, and he knew that they could save him. Hopefully. The man didn't seem to notice as the sirens turned off and the lights shoe outside the door. A police officer got out of his car. They made eye contact. It was officer Washington, from the night he first met this man. Samuel looked back at the man. He had started to laugh.

"Y'know, I was only tryin' to be nice, tellin' Y'all to stop sinnin'. I guess some people just can't-" 

"NYPD! PUT DOWN THE WEAPON!" The man turned red as a tomato. Samuel suddenly had the gun pressed to his forehead. But he'd lived in new york long enough. In one fluid movement, Samuel had diverted the gun from his head, pushed the attacker's hand way, and snatched the gun from his hand. The man stood in shock as the police surrounded the entrance.

"Get on the fucking ground" Samuel growled. The man complied, pressing his face to the linoleum. The officer came in to see Samuel, glaring down at the man, gun pointed at his back. He lowered his gun and looked at him.

"James Reynolds, you are under arrest for attempted assault." He was led out of the building. Samuel walked down the stairs, handing the gun to another officer. He suddenly found himself in a struggling hug, George squeezing him to his chest.

"Oh my god! Are you alright? Did he hurt you?" Samuel smiled and kissed George sweetly.

"I'm fine."

~~~~~~~~Later~~~~~~~~

"This is useful for a hostile situation in which you are unable to defend yourself," Samuel explained. The class nodded, deputies badges glinting against the fluorescent lighting.

"To demonstrate. This gun is unloaded, and does not have any bullets in it. Nonetheless, it's on saftey." George pressed the barrel of the gun to his husband's head. Samuel repeated the motion he had used on that night nearly two months ago. In less then two seconds, George had the weapon pressed to his collarbone.

"Make sure that you turn your wrist correctly, otherwise you may injure yourself or set the gun off. You make practice with your partners." They scatted, grabbing the demonstration guns form the table in the back. George kissed samuels forehead bfore walking around with him to correct the stances and movements of the students. 

and all was well.