Three Wishes: This didn't go as planned!

Back To Abel's Perspective

I woke to Jeanie shaking me.  Hard. 

"Abel."  She said through a tense jaw.  "Wake up, I can't carry you and I don't know when that guy's going to wake up."

"Huh?"  Memories washed back to me.  Had I told K anything?  No, just nonsense that he hadn't believed.  But there had to be cameras in the room, recording.  And what if he had believed me?  The nonsense had been inflammatory nonsense, now that I thought about it...

"Ugh."  I said.  My windpipe and lungs were on fire.  I sat up. 

"Come on, come on."  She said.  "Hurry it up."

I nodded and we walked quickly to the door.  I glanced at the camera worriedly, but there was nothing to be done. 

We stepped out into Boston, once again, and closed the door quickly.  Why hadn't security come as soon as Jeanie appeared?  There had been a camera...

Illegal.  

That was right, waterboarding was illegal-- they must have turned off the camera to reduce the evidence.  I breathed a sigh of relief, although it made no sense to do so, since the danger had already passed and K knew what happened--

"Abel."  Jeanie said, perhaps for the fourth of fifth time.  I looked down at her.  "Are you okay?"

"Yeah-huh."  I said.

She ran a hand through her hair, assessing me.  "Liar."

"Pants on fire."  I admitted. 

"What?"  

I sighed.  "It's a cultural reference.   'Liar liar, pants on fire, hanging from a telephone wire.'  It's a children's rhyme."

"Oh, right."  She said.  "Telephone wire."

I laughed, but it came out chunky and guttural. 

She punched my arm softly, more like a nudge.  "I'm glad your okay."

"Well..."  I sighed. "What's with the punching, anyway?"

"It's how guys communicate, isn't it?"

I looked down at her, at her dancing grey eyes and angular face.  She had an ethnicity I couldn't quite identify, her skin a sort of ambiguous brown.  "You're not a guy."

She smiled, sly.  "No, I'm not."

I leaned over and kissed her.  It was not a big movie-style kiss, with the open mouth and glorious music in the background.  It was tentative, and sweet, like a rosebud just opening. 

"Hmmmm."  She mumbled, taking my hand. 

"Come on."  I said, shaking off the weakness left by the waterboarding.  My lungs were healthy, now.  They could handle it.  "We need to retrieve something."

"What is it?"

"Your lamp."

"From where?"  She asked curiously. 

I sighed.  "My sock drawer."