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Date Posted: Wednesday, July 12, 06:01:19pm
Author: KT
Subject: Friday Challenge: July 7, 2006 (language)
In reply to: JayBee and Nell 's message, "Friday Challenge: July 7, 2006" on Friday, July 07, 05:46:32pm

Transit Challenge by KT

********

Walter sat back on his vintage Norton, an extremely wide grin covering his face, his hair horizontal from beneath his bandana as the wind ripped over his leathers. Ahead, tail lights began to glow red as the traffic slowed at the entrance to town. The sound of bikes idling grew louder.

"Hey, Walter! You old son-of-a-bitch! How the hell are ya?"

The gravelly voice of his old compatriot Jenkins was like music to his ears. Grinning, he turned his head to the left to answer.

"Still hangin' in, thanks. How 'bout you? You ever get rid of that crazy old lady of yours?"

Jenkins grinned back as he pulled up next to Walter.

"Nah. We'll always be together. She still talks about you, ya know."

Jenkins' old lady Georgia waved from the back of the bike, winking. Walter sat up a little straighter as he countered.

"Well, of course she does. I'm the best there is."

He winked back. Georgia threw her head back, laughing, tightening her arms around her husband.

"Sorry, Walter. No comparison," she teased.

Jenkins interrupted. "Hey, see ya later. We've gotta get our camp set up."

"OK. Meet at the "Fly Me To The Moon" saloon?"

"Sure. Ten sharp."

They rumbled away. Walter headed for his camping spot. He'd had the same one for years, so he wasn't worried about hurrying to secure it. But as he turned onto the dirt road that led to his campsite, his eyes narrowed. Someone had claimed it!

A two-man tent sat comfortably next to a shiny black Harley, with tricked out saddlebags and custom chrome. Two sets of leathers hung from the handlebars. Something about that bike...

Walter slowed to a crawl, and dismounted, gingerly approaching the tent. He stepped on a fallen tree branch. It snapped dryly, signaling his presence to the occupants. A second later, the flap opened and out popped...

"Oh good, it's you. We thought you'd show up soon, so we staked out your campsite. Guess everyone knows where you live. Care to share?"

Blonde braids, dazzling smile, brilliant blue eyes, sultry voice... there was only one person who fit the description.

"Sugar!"

She moved slowly out of the opening and snaked her arms around him. A moment later, Michael emerged, hair a bit tousled, a calm expression on his face.

"Hey Michael."

He nodded at Walter, his eyes hooded, as if he had been sleeping, and returned his greeting.

"Walter."

Nikita began to chatter happily, disengaging from the hug.

"Can you believe it? Operations kept his word! Fifteen days! We've got fifteen days!"

"And you want to spend it in Sturgis??"

Walter was a bit incredulous. But it was Michael who answered.

"We're only staying overnight."

"Ah."

A closer look at Nikita and Walter's gut wrenched. She was covered with bruises and cuts, her wrists raw from restraint, a rope burn around her neck. She observed his scrutiny, and quickly responded, her voice subdued.

"It's OK. I'm OK."

He stepped toward her, hugging her once more, gently, saying nothing. Raising his eyes, he caught Michael's. The hooded look was gone, replaced by both pain and triumph. Michael held their gaze, his heart visible for another few seconds. Walter was speaking quietly into Nikita's ear.

"Hey. I'm here. There's plenty of room for all of us."

********

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