Get Your Guns | Vol. 1 | Jamie Bower Fanfiction

18 | Trickery

Skye

Walking out his shower I realised two things. One I had a towel, though I wasn't sure whether or not it had been used before. Second I had no clothes to wear and this time even the damn laundry basket was empty. I had to either go around wrapped in a towel, till I was dry or go commando in some of Jamie's clothes. The fear of towel errors/droppings made me choose going commando in Jamie's clothing within seconds.

I wrapped said towel around me and headed for the door, cracking it open just enough to pop my head out in the hallway. "Jamie!" I hollowed. Sizzling sounds emanated from the kitchen door. He was cocking?

"Whaaat?!" he yelled obviously busy with something by the restrain of his voice. He also said 'what' in a funny way, because he didn't say 'what', it was more like 'whao', with an o at the end. That he said was the reason, he never played - what he called - the 'what guy' when he went in for a role, he gave the answers, he didn't ask the questions.

"I need clothes!" I hollowed back. Something clattered on the floor in the kitchen, and Jamie let out a small yelp and started repeating, "I'm fine, I'm fine. Everything is fine." And then at the end of his 'I'm fine'- tirade he told me, "Look down the clothes should be just outside the door," I looked down. Nothing there by the looks of it, and I would have noticed it if there had been anything there.

"There's nothing here, Jamie," I told him, I was starting to get cold again and some clothes would really improve my mood right now.

"I placed it there just a second ago!" he yelled back, still - by the sound of it - clattering around in the kitchen. What was he doing? Remaking the scene 'trash the camp' from 'Tarzan'? Sure as hell almost sounded like it.

"Well it's not there, James!" I heard something being sat down in the kitchen and he appeared in the doorway, he looked flushed and his before almost so neat hair was sticking up in odd places even Einstein would have been proud of. Plus he was sporting an apron; he had a striking resemblance to a housewife from the 60ties. Walking toward me he had a determined look in his eyes, like I was that stupid kid of his who had left her toy out in the hall. He hurled past me and went behind the opened door, picking something up from the floor. When he stood up he held something in his hands, a pair of black sweatpants and a grey tee shirt, looking rather annoyed. It had slipped behind the door out of sight as I opened it.

"Ow... Thanks," I said in a small voice, reaching for the clothes but just as I did, his annoyed expression turned lopsided and shaped itself in an evil grin. His outstretched hand shot away, out of my reach, which made me almost tumble over.

"What the F, Jamie?!" I exhaled as I gathered myself, making sure nothing had slipped out accidently. Nothing had, thank god. "Hand me the clothes, James?!" I squeaked trying to get a hold of it but being 5'3 didn't work in my favour, as it was nothing compared to his 6'1 feet. I felt like a dwarf more than ever.

"No!" he giggled - yeah he giggles believe it or not - struggling to hold the clothes away from me, holding it just out of my reach, then he suddenly got this weird expression on his face, "what would you offer me in exchange for these garments, my lady?" he said in an old school gentleman voice, like his question in the first place weren't totally inappropriate.

"Be serious, J, hand them over;" I said holding out my hand, almost expecting him to just hand them over just as I said, he couldn't be serious! But of course that wasn't the case. That would just be way too easy. He just smiled at me like I was some sort of moron. In hindsight I kind of was.

"What do you have to offer, my lady? A kiss perhaps?" he said still going with the - totally fake may I add - gentleman voice. Annoyed I lifted my eyebrow at him; I knew due to numerous encounters just like this one, that he absolutely loathed that. But this time he just bowed down in my height making a kissy mouth in front of me.