Hello lovelies!
I just wanted to start this by saying that I am so thankful for all the love and support I have recieved throughout the years. I have met and had the pleasure to be mutuals with so many talented to writers and I honestly wouldn't have the motivation to still be doing this without you guys. So in honor of both this milestone and also all of the awesome writers on this site, I was inspired by my lovely and talented mutual @fluffyprettykitty to do this little writing challenge.
❣︎~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~❣︎
So for this writing challenge you will be choosing one prompt/scenario to write for a fictional character. You are welcome to get as creative as your heart desires, that's what writing is all about after all.
Characters must be from the list I will include below, though pairing won't be limited. It can be character x reader, character x oc, or character x character (as long as they are from the list).
The prompts will be listed below as well.
So what can you do?
As for characters, these are the characters you can write about
Marvel characters
DC characters
Any Dylan O'Brien character
Pedro Pascal characters, e.g. Javier Peña, Din Djarin, Frankie Morales, Jack Daniels aka Agent Whiskey (those are the only ones I know/have seen)
The Winchester Brothers
Joel Kinnaman characters, e.g. Rick Flag, Stephen Holder, Takeshi Kovacs
No real people please, so none of those actors themselves, only their characters.
All readers/OCs/characters MUST be over the age of 20
So now that we know characters, what can you write?
Any genres or fiction are allowed (e.g fluff, angst, smut)
Dark fics, BDSM fics and DD/lg fics are also allowed, just tag them appropriately!
Kinks are allowed, but you are welcome to double check with me if you are unsure
So what's not allowed?
These are my hard no's
Incest, pedophilia, necrophilia, minors in smut, foot fetish and grooming.
Rules
You don't have to follow me to participate. This an open challenge to any writer that stumbles upon this.
You must be 18 to do any smut or NSFW prompts. There will be a NSFW and SFW section. I will check to see if your age is in your bio if your prompt/fic contains smut. If you dont have your age or you dont tell me in private I will not be including your fic.
I ask that you let me know if your fic will be NSFW or SFW.
Scenarios are first come first serve, whoever asks me first gets it. If you are unsure if the prompt you want is taken feel free to ask me.
Send me an ask to let me know which prompt you would like to do, if its NSFW or SFW and for which character. Moots you can dm me directly!
Remember to add "read more" to any works that are longer than 300 words, that's just common courtesy.
Other details
I will be tracking your guy's work through the tags #lias writing challenge, #lias 1300 milestone or #write with lia so make sure you tag your fics with any of those so I can see them.
This challenge will be running and open until August 1st. (I won't be accepting any works after that).
Once all works have been posted and the challenge closes I will be posting a masterlist with all the works
Keep in mind I will read all of them to make sure they don't have anything they aren't supposed to before putting them on the masterlist
If there any further or more individual questions please feel free to shoot me an ask or dm if you are a moot.
Now, on to the prompts!
(For clarification these are a mix of scenarios and lines of dialogues I really like and/or I came up with. You have full liberty to do with these as you will, these are very short and simple to allow for creative liberty so, you're encouraged to do as your heart desires with these)
Breakfast in bed
Matching tattoos
Character A asks character B to be their plus one for a wedding @lovelyavengers w/ Rick Flag (SFW)
Character A cock warming character B
Character A wears character B's clothes
Undercover gala mission
Character A loses their pet and character B returns it
Characters reunited after character A thought character B died @a-reader-and-a-writer w/ Rick Flag (SFW)
Comfort after a nightmare
Bathtime together
Characters are on a date and they run into an ex @babblydrabbly w/ Takeshi Kovacs (NSFW)
Character A gets hurt and character B has to tend to them
Character A sends character B a spicy picture while in public.
Makeup sex
Watching the sunset
Characters drunkenly confess their love for each other
Morning sex
Character A and B are constantly flirting and character C is done with it
Adopting a pet together
Sleeping (literally sleeping) together for the first time
Character A gives character B head (m or f) under a table/desk while they work
Character A gets cold while cuddling with character B
Character A comforts character B after a rough day
Character A gives character B a massage
Character A shows up at character B's door in the middle of the night
"Who did this to you?"
"Look me in the eye and tell me you don't love me" @loverhymeswith w/ Takeshi Kovacs (SFW)
"Can you stay..? Please"
"You are afraid of being in love." @nekoannie-chan w/ Steve Rogers (SFW)
"Don't make me get out this chair"
"Am I showering alone" "absolutely not" @fluffyprettykitty w/ Frank Castle (SFW)
"That's my good fucking girl"
"Don't push me away, not this time"
"I can't let you go. I don't know how to"
"I hate you" "try saying that without moaning and I might believe you"
"I really want to taste you"
"Shh, there's people in the other room"
"Are you jealous?" "They were staring"
"Next time you don't wear panties I will finger you under this table no matter who is here"
"Do you think you can handle us?"
"What are you looking at?" "I like looking at you"
"I'm scared I'll ruin what we have"
"I just wanted to make sure you were okay"
"Are you sure?" "I trust you"
"You're better off without me"
"You're distracting me" "yeah I know"
"I'm trying to focus here. But it feels good, keep going"
"You're safe, I promise"
"That looks good, but it'll look better on my floor"
"Its always been you"
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What a Wicked Game | One
[Rick Flag x OC]
Word Count: 4,395
A/N: This fic was born because Rick Flag deserved better. And I have been truly inspired by all the amazing Rick fic already out there. You guys are giving me life. I haven't written anything like this for a long time, so I just hope I can do the man justice.
Rick.
Rick Flag is no stranger to putting himself in mortal peril.
He’s the leader of the goddamn Suicide Squad after all. Fighting his way out of deadly situations is just another day in the office. Still, this might be the most reckless thing he’s ever done.
One thing’s for certain, Amanda Waller is going to kill him.
That is, if Gotham’s Clown Prince of Crime doesn’t beat her to it.
Nothing gets past Amanda “The Wall” Waller, least of all the meta-human inmates of Belle Reve Correctional Facility. The nano-bombs implanted in their brains are supposed to ensure that. And yet here’s Rick, driving through the back streets of Gotham City in the dead of night, with one of Waller’s very own meta-human prisoners by his side.
For some time now he’s been promising the woman next to him that he’s going to take care of things, make things right. But as they approach their destination, he’s beginning to doubt his ability to deliver.
The odds are stacked against him in every direction.
He only has a few hours until Waller notices not all her toys are back in their box. And here Rick is, about to make a deal with the Devil.
He glances over at his passenger. Her head rests against the window of his Jeep; strands of her silver-blonde hair have escaped their braid, framing the soft angles of her face. On nights like this her name seems incredibly fitting.
Her eyes are closed, but he can tell Angel’s not sleeping. Just like Rick, she can never sleep after a mission. Strung out but still wired with adrenaline, knowing her freedom is slipping away with every passing second.
All Task Force X missions are tough. It’s the very reason the covert black-ops team exists in the first place; why Rick was assigned as their leader. They’re here to take care of the shit that no-one else wants to deal with. Why get your hands dirty when the Suicide Squad can do it for you?
This mission was worse than usual. They’re bloody and bruised; broken physically and mentally, and down three team members less than when they started. Rick hates losing any team members, even if most of them are convicted felons who are far more concerned with saving their own skin than the success of the assignment.
Angel is different though.
She’s still a convicted felon, with a fair share of blood on her hands, but like Rick, she puts her life on the line time and again. Gets him out of some real scraps. And for what? Twelve meagre hours of freedom for each successful mission. A sliver of reward for not dying. It’s not good enough.
It will never be good enough.
And it’s been building up for a while now, this reckless desire of Rick’s.
Each time he escorts her back to the cell, he can feel Angel losing another piece of herself. Belle Reve does that to a person. He would know. He spends enough time with its inmates to see it first-hand. How the prison slowly chips away at your sanity, until the person you once were becomes nothing more than splinters in the wind.
Only the truly crazy seem to survive Belle Reve. Harley’s proof of that.
So, Rick needs to get Angel out of Belle Reve and Task Force X before it’s too late, and he’s convinced himself that tonight must be the night.
Angel finally shifts beside him, pulling his attention away from the road.
“Where are we going tonight, Rick?” She asks hoarsely, eyes still shut. Angry purple bruises bloom around her throat. A reminder of how close they came to failing. How close he came to losing her.
His fingers grip the steering wheel a fraction tighter.
It’s become a habit, these late-night, post-mission drives. Ever since Waller assigned him as Angel’s chaperone – a stipulation of the twelve-hour bargain.
Angel likes being on the road. She tells him she finds the gentle hum of the engine calming. The soft rumble of tires on the highway sooths her fraying nerves. The neon signs and gleaming headlights remind her there is a world away from Belle Reve, away from the endless death and destruction.
Rick enjoys the company.
Just the two of them. Going as far as her curfew will allow, never the same place twice.
Except for tonight.
He doesn’t want to lie to her, but he doesn’t want to tell her the truth either. Not just yet. Because after tonight, everything’s going to change.
He’s also not entirely sure she’ll want to go along with his plan once she knows who’s involved. Hell, even Harley tried warning him against this. But Rick is all out of options.
“Rick?” She grumbles. He hasn’t replied yet.
“We’re getting that damn thing out of your head, darlin’. You’ve just got to trust me, ok?”
Angel’s eyes fly open. Alarmed, her bright blue gaze settles on him. “Tonight?”
They’ve talked about it before, sure, about breaking Waller’s diabolical hold over her, but she’s never really believed he’s being serious. It’s always seemed like more of a pipedream than anything truly possible.
She underestimates just how strongly Rick feels.
“Can’t wait any longer. Nearly lost you back there.”
Today was a wake-up call if ever he needed one. The missions are becoming deadlier, the squad crazier, Waller more powerful. It’s time for Angel to get out.
After his relationship with June ended, Rick swore off love. If he’s being honest with himself, he’s not even sure if it really was love, but it hurt like hell when she left, and he doesn’t want to feel like that ever again.
Whatever he feels for Angel is different, but it scares the shit out of him all the same. It’s not love, at least he doesn’t think so. Hopes it isn’t. All he knows is that he can’t let anything happen to her. Can’t let anything else happen to her.
He drags his gaze from the road again to find her watching him intently, her bright blue eyes reflecting the glow of the passing headlights. His own eyes wander back to the finger-shaped bruises around her delicate neck.
“Is this about earlier? It wasn’t your fault you know.”
Rick shakes his head. She’s wrong.
He’d been distracted. Careless. Forgot to switch off the goddamn power dampeners.
The chopper had barely landed when they were ambushed. Someone had sold them out. But that was a problem for another day. Because Angel had been caught by those assholes, and she couldn’t even protect herself. The most valuable member of the squad, the only one of them with the gift of life as well as death, and he’d left her weak and defenceless.
Rick hadn’t bothered to stop Waylon from tearing the bastards in half when he got his claws on them.
He grits his jaw, eyes returning to the road ahead. He doesn’t deserve this - her kindness, her understanding.
“It’s my job to protect you. I failed.”
Because he’s their leader. Colonel Rick Flag. He’s responsible for the outcome of every mission, for making the difficult decisions, keeping the delinquents in line, ensuring no one is left behind.
When Angel replies, the resolve in her voice killshim. “You didn’t fail. I’m here. We’re both here, in one piece.”
“But for how much longer?” he asks her, gruffly. “It’s only a matter of time before our luck runs out. One day there’ll be no more close calls, no more second chances. Look at what happened to…”
“Rick.” She sighs.
He knows she worries when he gets like this. Anxious. Agitated. Agonising over the deaths he feels he could have prevented. Should have prevented.
“You can’t save everyone.”
How many times has he heard that? Logically, he knows it to be true. Doesn’t make it any easier though. Waller says he just wants to play the hero. Surrounded by villains day in and day out, maybe she’s right.
And maybe he can’t save everyone.
But he can save Angel.
“Seriously, where are we going?”
She still doesn’t believe him. Thinks she can change the subject and distract him from his melancholy. Usually, it works. But not tonight.
His stomach, his skin, every inch of his body is crawling with snakes, spiders and all manner of horrid things as he thinks about what he needs to do. He can feel Angel’s eyes on him, but he keeps his own fixed firmly on the road. Can’t bring himself to see the look on her face when he tells her.
Rick tries to clear the lump in his throat as he makes a turn off the main road. “We’re payin’ a visit to an old friend of Harley’s…”
They’ve reached the worst part of Gotham now, so he knows it’s not far. That is, if Harley’s scribbled directions are correct. He can’t quite put his finger on when exactly he started trusting the former psychiatrist, but now’s not the time for doubt.
Speaking of which, he tunes out the tiny inner voice that’s been screaming all night this is a terrible idea. It might be a terrible idea, but it’s the only one he’s got.
“Harley?” It only takes a beat of silence before he senses Angel stiffen. The penny drops. “You don’t mean…?”
He nods once.
She turns in her seat and for a moment he thinks she’s going to grab the wheel. Or him. The power dampeners have long since been discarded. She could put a stop to this right now if she wanted to. All it takes is one touch.
“What the hell, Rick!? Have you lost your mind?”
Probably, he thinks, but it’s too late to worry about that now. They’ve almost arrived.
“You’re gonna have to trust me darlin’. This is our only choice.”
He slows the car to a crawl, peering out of the window into the mist covered night. After the prison, Gotham is one of his least favourite places. Always feels like he’s stepping into a nightmare. Difference is, tonight the nightmare’s coming true.
“No, it’s not.” She protests. “We can go back to Belle Reve.”
“You are not going back there.” He’s gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white.
“Rick.” Angel reaches for him, her fingers brushing the back of his hand.
It’s only the slightest of touches, but he doesn’t flinch at the contact anymore. He still isn’t quite used to it though and she knows it. She’s always so careful around him. He trusts she won’t hurt him, but it’s not natural, you know, what she can do with that touch.
“What about giving me a choice?”
Rick’s boot comes down on the footbrake, her question demanding his full attention.
She has a point. How is he any better than Waller right now? Forcing Angel into a plan of his own making with no thought as to what she might want. This isn’t the person he wants to be.
“I’m sorry, I just…” He sighs, searching for the right words in his scrambled-up brain. He’s always found it difficult to articulate himself, to explain his emotions. Just knows he feels too much sometimes. “I can’t stand you being locked up in that place. It’s not right. You’re too… good.”
“But isn’t he worse than Waller? How can we trust him?”
She stares at him with those big blue eyes, and he feels his chest tighten, finds it harder to breathe. Where did all the oxygen go?
“Do you trust me?” His voice is rough and rasping, thick with emotion. He hopes she doesn’t notice. He’s always been careful to conceal his feelings around her. Whatever those feelings might be.
“Yes, but…”
He takes one hand off the wheel and without thinking reaches out to grip her fingers tightly. The absolute contact sends shockwaves through his body, but it has nothing to do with her gift.
It’s the first time he’s touched her like this, without the power dampeners on.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
Angel.
Despite her better judgement, Angel allows Rick to coax her out of the car. She can tell something’s been bothering him for a while now, even before the disastrous mission. He’s been quieter, more angsty than usual. She knows better than to pry though. He’s never been one for sharing his feelings. And it’s never been her business.
Until now.
Now it is quite literally her business. If she’d known all this time that he was concocting an insane plan to remove the nano-bomb implanted in the base of her skull she would have…well…she’d have tried talking some sense into him.
The problem with Rick is that he’s like a dog with a bone. Stubborn, determined, unwilling to admit defeat. A martyr. Because this ridiculous idea of his might just get them both killed.
But he’s asked her to trust him. She can do that, surely? She puts her life in his hands on every mission and when has he ever let her down? No matter what he thinks, today wasn’t his fault.
She follows Rick along a dimly lit alley that smells like death, through a pair of rusting iron gates and into the loading yard of an abandoned warehouse.
Yes.
She’s going to trust him.
With every step forward her panic rises, but somehow she manages to hold it together. Because if she’s honest with herself she wants this too. Wants to be free, from Belle Reve, from Waller, from wondering each day if it’s going to be her last.
She hangs back while Rick knocks loudly on a boarded-up door. Someone has gone to great lengths to make the place look deserted. She’s always pictured something…flashier. Then again, what villain in their right mind would want to advertise their secret lair with a billboard sign and flashing lights?
Then she remembers.
This villain isn’t in their right mind.
Somewhere above them a flood light switches on, bathing the yard in a sickly yellow glow. The door swings open on invisible hinges, revealing a pair of tall figures in matching black suits. Angel’s not sure what’s worse, the hideous fanged grins painted on their masked heads, one black and one white, or the huge automatic guns pointing at her and Rick.
She takes a step back involuntarily, but Rick doesn’t move, just stares back at the monstrous pair, shoulders squared as he speaks.
“Tell your boss that Rick Flag is here to see him.”
The figures exchange a look with one another. At least, she thinks it’s a look. Hard to tell given the fact that there are no eyes in those hideous masks.
“Rick…” She edges closer to him, conscious of the figures watching her every move. Rick’s not a small man, but these freaks dwarf even him.
Before she can beg him to turn around and leave, the white mask lurches forwards and grabs Rick roughly by the shoulder. Pushes him inside without saying a word, leaving Black Mask with a clear path to Angel.
To hell with this, she thinks, holding up her hand as the creature starts to prowl towards her. “Don’t bother, I’m coming.”
Angel finds herself bundled inside what appears to be the inner loading dock. A flickering tube light illuminates the small area and her eyes dart around, searching for Rick. Her relief at finding him is short lived though, as White Mask has him up against the wall while Black Mask begins to relieve him of his weapons.
If it wasn’t for the perilous circumstance, Angel would find it amusing, the number of firearms and blades Rick manages to conceal about his person. The assault rifle remains in the Jeep, but he has a pair of handguns in his shoulder holster, two Glocks tucked into his waistband and at least one knife in each boot.
Once Rick is completely unarmed, the freaks move on to Angel.
“It’s ok Rick. Here.” She pulls her own single gun from the waist of her bloodied combat trousers and hands it over to White Mask. It’s never been much use to her, even after all the lessons from Deadshot. She just doesn’t have the coordination.
“She’s not armed,” Rick insists, putting himself between the masks and Angel.
He seems to forget they still have their own guns trained on him and one wrong move might put a swift end to this great scheme of his.
Her skills are more… unique. But less precise.
Perhaps she should have told Rick to put the power dampeners back on. She doesn’t want to cause a major incident by accidentally taking out one of these henchmen.
After Rick’s little exhibition, the freaks are taking no chances and they proceed to pat her down roughly. She takes a deep breath. Reminds herself she is here by choice. It’s not like before. Before Belle Reve. Before the Suicide Squad. She’s a different person now. She’s in control.
Isn’t she?
The moment the radio falls silent, both masked freaks separate out. Despite their size, they move startlingly fast. Before Angel can react, Rick is being manhandled out of the room by White Mask.
Satisfied the pair are unarmed, one of the freaks produces a radio from somewhere about his person and the sound of crackling static fills the air. An alien-like voice proceeds to splutter out a series of incomprehensible commands.
Angel glances over at Rick who looks just as bewildered. His hazel eyes are wide, wary. The brightest thing in this dark room. She focuses on those eyes. Uses them to keep her grounded. Reminds herself he’s got her back.
Always.
She shouts after him, afraid. Doesn’t want to be left alone. Doesn’t know where he’s being taken. Tries to follow, but the door slams shut in her face.
Probably not.
In pain staking slow motion the black-masked figure turns to look at her. Again, she assumes he’s looking at her, because you know, no eyes.
Distantly, she wonders if he’s ever allowed to take off the mask. In fact, as she’s trapped there in the claustrophobic loading dock, she starts to wonder a lot of things. Like whether she can reach Black Mask’s heart before he can pull the trigger.
And where would that leave her? Where would it leave Rick, who’s bargaining away goodness knows what to secure her a future she’s not even sure she deserves.
A large hand grabs her roughly by the shoulder and shoves her out of the dock. Marches her forwards until they reach the centre of the room, where, surrounded by an assortment of disturbingly masked figures, stands Rick.
It’s hard to say how much time passes, but when a sharp whistle finally pierces the cloying silence, Angel nearly jumps out of her skin. Ever the obedient lackey, Black Mask opens the door that Rick disappeared through, revealing a wide-open chamber, presumably once the centre of the old warehouse.
Fluorescent green lights have been installed, casting the area in a sickly glow. She should be terrified, but all she can think about is Rick. How much she needs to see him again, needs to know he’s ok.
Any relief she feels about him still being in one piece soon shatters when her eyes land on the individual next to him.
The Joker.
Here before her, in the flesh, for the very first time.
He’s shorter than she expected.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Amanda Waller’s very own ‘Angel of Death’.”
Rick moves to take a step towards her, but the Clown Prince stops him with a swift hand to the chest. “Colonel Flag, you didn’t tell me that it was this particular meta-human you want to save.”
When Rick doesn’t reply, the Joker flashes him a menacing grin. “Whatever happened to June Moone?”
Angel isn’t surprised to hear June’s name on the Joker’s lips. Of course, he’s keeping tabs on the Suicide Squad, especially after Midway City. After Harley. He probably hates the idea that she’s finally made something of herself without him.
Angel doesn’t like the flicker of pain in Rick’s eyes. She knows how much it still hurts him to think about June. After everything he went through – they went through – to bring her back.
Rick growls. “I told you we have a time limit, Clown. Are you going to help or not?”
“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Flag.” The Joker cackles, his pale green eyes gleaming with barely concealed excitement as his cronies close in around Rick.
Narcissistic bastard.
The green menace stalks towards Angel and she notices for the first time his immaculate attire. Crisp white shirt loosely buttoned, offering a glimpse of tattoos; their dark lines harsh against his sallow skin. Black dress pants, gold rings on every finger.
For a sadistic psychopath, he seems to take an awful amount of pride in his appearance.
Pausing a few feet away, the Joker cocks his head. A predator sizing up his prey. “It’s only polite to get to know someone before cutting their brain open. Wouldn’t you agree, Angel?”
Her mouth falls open, his words dousing her in fear. “Wh…what?”
Rick elbows his way through the goons and plants himself between Angel and the Joker. The thick, muscled wall of his body a welcome shield. “He’s lying.”
Before Rick can elaborate or the Joker can disagree, another figure enters the room.
Unlike the rest of the henchmen, this one is unmasked.
Familiar.
Wearing a white lab coat.
“Is that...?”
“Dr. Van Criss.” The Joker leers. “Yes, you might well recognise him as the very man responsible for putting that bomb in your head in the first place. Fortunate that he works for me now, don’t you think?”
This is Rick’s plan; Angel realises with a jolt. How long has he known that Van Criss is on the Joker’s payroll?
They’ve all heard the rumours: that after the scientist was blackmailed into removing Harley’s bomb, he disappeared from A.R.G.U.S. Some say he was terminated by Waller. Not a huge stretch of the imagination after experiencing first-hand what she did to her team in Midway City.
But no, the doctor lives. He’s probably just too great an asset for the Joker to let go of. All those government secrets squirreled away inside his brain.
There’s something just too easy about this though, Angel thinks. After all, nothing comes for free. Especially not in Gotham. Not from the Joker.
What’s the price?
She wants to ask, but the Joker side-steps Rick with a flourish and his lean arm comes to hover over around her shoulders.
Almost touching. But not quite.
Is he… scared?
He leans in close, his bitter breath tickling her cheek as he croons. “Tell me, Angel. Can you really kill a man with one touch?”
Angel ducks out of his almost-embrace and bares her teeth. “Would you like to find out?”
She could do it.
And that’s what really kills.
She could stop his heart if she wanted to. Could leave him dizzy and sweating, stricken and gasping for breath, until the very last minute. And then, if she’s feeling generous, bring him back from the brink of death.
It’s a shame his goons would get to her first.
Because she needs time. That’s the thing. Time to constrict the arteries, time to squeeze the air from his lungs.
Everyone thinks it’s instant, this gift of hers. That all it takes is one touch. Even Rick. It’s why he’s so reluctant to touch her.
What he doesn’t realise is that there’s never been anything to worry about.
Angel’s control over her power has always been tentative at best. That’s how she ended up in Belle Reve; let her emotions gets the better of her. But the human body is a complex machine, and sure, she might be able to quicken a pulse here, or heal a scratch there, but it takes a huge amount of concentration, will power, raw emotion, for her to do any real damage.
So, Rick might not want to touch her, and she can’t blame him for that. But she would never hurt him.
The Joker is delighted. He looks over at Rick, amusement tugging at his dark lips until they part obscenely, revealing a row of silver capped teeth.
“This one’s got claws, Flag.” He turns to Angel. “How’s about I get that bomb out of your head and you come work for me? I’ve been in the market for a new pet since Harley left.”
Everyone in the room, including Rick, knows he’s bluffing. They wouldn’t be here if there was any alternative and Angel has finally accepted this.
“Enough, Joker.” Rick snarls.
It looks as if he’s going to launch himself on the clown, but that sliver of self-restraint that always seems to keep Rick alive sees his feet rooted to the spot.
“We do this now, or we’re leaving.”
“Oh, I don’t think that’s going to happen Colonel. But seeing as I am in the habit of protecting my investments, let’s get to it. Doc, the floor is yours.”
The Joker gives Angel a final appraisal before turning on his heel and heads back towards his circle of henchmen.
Van Criss holds out an arm, gesturing for Angel to join him but she remains frozen in place, staring at Rick with uncertainty. “What does he mean by investment?”
Rick shakes his head. “Nothing for you to worry about, darlin’. Come on. Let’s get this over and done with.”
He offers her his hand, another first, but for the second time this evening his hazel eyes betray him. There’s something he’s not telling her.
“I’m afraid it’s a rather rudimentary procedure,” Van Criss explains as he guides them to what appears to be a makeshift medical bay. “Without having my original instruments to hand I’m going to have to make a small incision to remove the device.”
Angel wants to put her foot down, to insist on being told the full story, but like Rick she is painfully aware of the clock ticking. If she doesn’t make a decision now, Waller will happily make it for her.
So, with no small amount of trepidation, she takes Rick’s hand and lets him lead her over to the waiting doctor.
Angel notices how he doesn’t call it a bomb.
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