Deckard

5.

Break Free

The constant banging of Hobb's fists against the wall as he tries to prove a point that this hell hole is just a temporary factor in his life is growing even more frustrating; as each knuckle hits the still un-moving wall. Biting my tongue to prevent a snarky comment that will probably end in an argument, I give a tap on the cold wall behind me. My back flush against the solid structure as I sit on the floor and my legs in front of me as I try to relax from the pounding headache of Hobbs.

I feel the faint tap of Deckards reply against the wall as I take a deep breath.

"Love you" Was my reply, "Can I break his arms so he can't bash the wall anymore?" I ask through the tapping code against the wall.

"I'll break his legs so he can't kick it," he replied making me smirk at our little plan for whenever we get our bloodied hands on him.

"See all those blows that muscles will give you. All show and no goal," Deckard teases from his cell over to the large man in his cell as he eventually stops his useless punching against the wall.

Sighing in relief, I quickly stand from my sitting position to watch intrigued as the ex-police officer grabs the heavy concrete table from the wall and begins pumping it like iron. My eyebrows raise slightly impressed at his large ego.

"Well I got plenty of goal," Hobbs retaliates before placing the table down; myself loosing interest as he only performed three pumps before giving up- weak.

"Funny, you must have misplaced that when I kicked your ass up and down that office of yours," Deck trying to prove a point by opening old wounds for the cop, a smug smirk finding it's way onto my rosy lips.

Turning to the centre of the small cell I perform a handstand; getting my balance before pumping my arms up and down so that I'm performing press ups with my legs perfectly straight in the air- working my arms and core at the same time as I listen to the boys bicker.

"Yeah, just like you Brits, rewriting history, huh?"

1,2,3,4,5 I count with a small huff at Hobb's comment, I can think of many comments to throw his way.

"All I know is that it wasn't me who was thrown out of a four story window,"

6,7,8,9.

"Jumped," He tries to defend himself, "I jumped out of a 4 story window, saving my partners life," So what? I would have let the girlie die, "Because where I'm from we don't settle fights by throwing bombs, "

But it is fun if you do throw a bomb...or two.

15,16,17,18.

"Well that's funny, because where I'm from we don't need women to run to our rescue," I give a snort at the fact that I've pulled Mr. Shaw out of many tight situations before- in fact that's how we met. He was about to be compromised when eliminating his target, and my own target, when I purposefully open fired with my AR-15 into a large crowd to cause a distraction.

Taking a deep breath, I elegantly lower my pump covered feet back down to solid ground and begin stretching my arms over my head as well as performing a static squat as I did to warm up my legs a little.

"I mean, do you really believe you could stand in front of me and beat me in an old fashioned fist fight?" Deck challenges; I smirk at the fact that he's probably right dude to big guns over here having more muscle mass for show rather than power and technique of someone with more leaned muscles like Deckard and myself.