09. Starting Point: Agency Base, California

CALIFORNIA [PENDING]

1400 HOURS

AGENCY BASE; SECTOR 4.2

➳

"Theoretically speaking," I twirled a lock of blonde hair around a delicate finger, crossing my legs as I leaned forward in my seat. "Say if I got up right now and made a run for it, would I have any chance of survival?"

"Theoretically speaking," he replied without even shooting me a sideways glance. His fingers rhythmically tapped against the icons flashing on the screens, sliding windows and images to and from the desktop onto a small blue flash drive. "Say if I tied you up and gagged you, would I have any chance of you shutting up?"

"In your dreams."

"There's your answer, sweetheart."

I narrowed my eyes at him, and subtly held up my middle finger to his back.

"I could chop that finger clean off before you could even blink. I don't suggest you piss me off," said Ronan, his posture still the same as before. Without even turning around, he had me pretending to strangle the empty space in front of me as I imagined his neck in my fists.

Dragging one final file to the flash drive icon, he took it out of its place and spun around. I quickly stopped my violent fantasies and hid my hands behind my back, blushing slightly. He quirked an eyebrow in my direction, leaning against the edge of the desk. Behind him the computer screen let out a loud, erroneous clash, before fizzling to a dark blue shade. The words 'system deletion' popped onto the screen in bright, white letters.

"I hate to burst your bubble, but your super computer is kind of deleting everything in your system." I arched an eyebrow and pointed behind him.

Ronan glanced behind at the screen, which was now showing a loading bar, signalling how many files were being permanently deleted. "Yeah, looks like it."

"You're insane."

"It's a blessing and a curse." Ronan suddenly threw the flash drive in my direction, to which my slow reflexes had me fumbling to catch it. It fell between my fingers and clattered to the ground, where it lay motionless. I grimaced. Ronan slapped a hand to his forehead. "You're like an infant. You'll need to have basic training before we can move out."

I scoffed, bending down the rest of the way to retrieve the flash drive from the floor. Once secured in my grip, I let out a huff and muttered, "I can hold my own. You saw me back there at the bank."

"What I saw," Ronan corrected, "was a girl who got lucky. At one point though, you almost had me fooled. A roundhouse kick to the head isn't something that any average person would know to do. Did you take up martial arts or anything before you went on the run?"

I shook my head. "My mom only taught me basic self-defense. Nothing like what I did back there."

"What about your dad?"

"What about him?"

"Did he ever teach you anything?"

I mulled the thought in my mind, hugging my arms to my chest. "If he did, I don't remember anything. He left us when I was still young."

"Where's your mom?" Ronan asked, genuine curiosity in his eyes.

"Dead," I replied monotonously, staring at the floor but not seeing anything. I was waiting for it. The pitying look and the words, 'I'm sorry,' but none came from the boy standing beside me. Instead, he nodded and reached out a hand.

I flinched back but he slapped into on my shoulder unperturbed and replied, "Did you make any promises to her before she passed?"

I thought back to the forest, recalling the car chase and the crash as she sacrificed herself to save me instead. Swallowing a lump in my throat, I heard her voice in my head as I repeated her words, "I told her I would find my father."

He offered a small half-smile, just a sliver of a crescent that I thought I just imagined the sight. "Then, we're going to make sure you keep that promise to her." I bit my lip and nodded, but was unable to meet his eyes.

Clapping his hands together, Ronan gestured for me to rise, giving a bob of the head. I was confused but I left the sanctuary of the seat and stood unconfidently. Rubbing the back of my ankle with my other foot, I shrugged. "What?"

Without warning, Ronan darted forward and raised a fist, propelling it towards my face. I screamed and instantly held up my arms to cover myself but I felt no impact. When I lowered my arms to see, Ronan's fist was poised just an inch away from my face, perfectly still.

"Rule one," he smirked. "Always keep your eyes on the enemy."

I let out a nervous chuckle. "N-Noted."

He relaxed back into himself, dropping his fist to which I let out a breath of relief. I eyed him warily, taking a subtle step backwards.

Ronan was giving me a curious look, cocking his head slightly to one side. He turned to the side, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt. "Punch me."

"What?"

"As hard as you can," he clarified, pointing to the bare part of his arm. "Right here. No holding back."

I smirked, cracking my knuckles as I hopped up and down on my heels. He might not have known, but I wasn't some weak ass kitten who could barely pull off a slap. I knew that I was stronger than most people my age. This opportunity obviously meant revenge for all his smart ass retorts. "You asked for it, Princess." I mimicked his low voice and curled my hand into a fist. With a small grunt, I threw all my weight into the punch and hit him square in the arm.

He didn't even recoil.

"Cute," Ronan arched an eyebrow with a knowing grin and I felt my jaw fall. Before I knew it, I felt a throbbing pain in my knuckles and glanced down only to find my hand bruised and red, with a small cut noticeable near the top.

"Don't tuck your thumb in," Ronan said.

"Why- Ow!" There was an abrupt pain and I grabbed st my hand, noticing the pain blossoming in my thumb. Great, now both my hands were useless.

"You have an increased chance of breaking it." Ronan finished, looking pleased with himself. He didn't even look the least bit hurt from the punch.

I glared at him, resisting the urge to bare my teeth like an offended bulldog. "Whatever. I think that's enough lessons for today."

"I agree," Ronan nodded and floated over to the main table, where he began reaching for something in his jean pocket. I took up his right side, cradling my newly injured hand with the existing injured one. He took out his fist, and the note from my father fell out, along with a quarter. It clattered to the surface, sounding exceptionally loud in the silence of the room. It spun twice before landing on tails. "Before we head out on our great adventure, we need to plan ahead."

"Right," I picked up the Nevada quarter and spun it on the table. "A quarter. And a note that says, 'Ask for Captain Johnny.' Cryptic much, huh?"

"Rogers' was always a fan of puzzles." I didn't know why, but his statement had me feeling a little sad. Maybe it was because I realized he must have spent more time with my father than I had in my lifetime. I frowned and dropped the quarter to the ground.

"Sorry," I apologized quickly and bent down to scoop it back up. Once in my hand, I cleared my throat and decided to change the subject.

"Well if he was a fan of puzzles, then this obviously has to mean something."

"No shit, Sherlock," Ronan scoffed but reached out to flatten the crumpled paper. "I just ran a search on any possible Johnnys that the Boss could have run into, but the system came up blank. He could be a rogue that managed to keep in touch with your father."

"A rogue?"

"Someone who quit the Agency to live a normal life," His eyes darkened and the note in his fist crumpled back into the ball it was originally in as he tightened his hand. "Or as close to normal as they can get."

"Hmm." I hummed, taking this chance to change the subject as I sensed Ronan's discomfort. "Well, the name Captain Johnny sounds like something out of a Western. Dad gave me a Nevada quarter. Maybe old John's somewhere there?"

Ronan mulled this over in his mind and I was proud to say he seemed a little surprised at my ingenuity. "Nevada's huge though. We can't just drive through the entire state knocking on people's doors and asking them if they're Captain Johnny."

"Worse comes to worse, that's what we'll have to do." I tapped the quarter on the table and bit my lip. "Heads or tails? Loser has to knock on the first door we come across."

"Tails." Ronan sighed, and I threw the coin into the air, catching it and setting it on the table.

Tails.

We were both silent, peering at the coin and staring at the carvings and etchings that portrayed three mustangs riding past a set of mountains.

I glanced at his profile and cautiously asked, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

He glanced at me and nodded with certainty. Pointing back at the image on the quarter, he said, "A ranch. I'll go look up a list of horse ranches in Nevada."

I nodded and he turned to leave, but stopped in his tracks to spin back to where I was sitting. "What?" I asked.

"I called tails. The first ranch we get to, you're the first person to knock," he smirked.

--

Hallelujah, an update. Sorry, it's kind of short and a bit if a filler. The action will kick right back up again. Promise. :)

Help me come up with a ship name for these two omg. Too much flirting but they don't even know it.

Comment. Vote. Promote.

-Isa