KIDNAPPED {Will/Lawrence}

[drake raphael elliot]

Drake was a little bit sore at his so-called friends. None of them seemed to grasp the seriousness of the stalker situation and he knew that this could only cause heartache and discomfort for him. They also were mistaken about his sex life. Not by much, certainly, but Drake still found it enough that they should all stop bitching. It was, after all, his life and not theirs.

This was a totally different situation, however, from Lawrence's. He may have chosen to watch Infomercials in his free time and it may not have technically been any of their business, but as friends, it was their duty to break him of this habit. Watching TV too much was bad for his health, after all. In fact, it was much more noble of Drake to destory his television than it was for Will to egg on his stalker. She was, after all, a threat, just like the television. Drake wasn't supporting Lawrence's watching habits, why did they all have to support his stalker?

Once she appeared at the bar, which he figured was inevitable, they would all see how creepy she was. Perhaps they would even leave him alone. He sighed. This was not likely to happen. All he could do was try and keep attention focused on Lawrence's fails instead of his own. Which was exactly why he was lurking around outside his apartment complex, wearing an all-black suit, black leather gloves, and a ski mask, waiting for Will. Duh.

[william dane baxter]

Will loved any excuse to dress up and do something he probably wasn't supposed to do. So when Drake suggested kidnapping, Will was all for it. Granted they were kidnapping their friend in an effort to save him from himself, but all that mattered to Will was that he got to skulk about in a ski mask and black clothes, putting on pretend voices and giving himself a code name.

Yes it was childish and yes it was probably a stupid idea, but Will was not really one for planning ahead. Plus it took a lot for him to focus on one idea at one time. He practically skipped to Lawrence's apartment, giddy with excitement. He saw a black figure pacing and knew immediately it was Drake. He could tell by the way the figure's shoulders were positioned.

Deciding to make this even more fun, Will went around the back of the building and crept up behind Drake. He kept absolutely silent as he made his way over and bent to whisper in Drake's ear. "Why haven't you answered my emails?" he whispered in a high-pitched voice. He intended for Drake to think it was his stalker and flip out, which would cause Will to laugh his ass off and get the shenanigans off to a roaring start.

[drake raphael elliot]

As a general rule, Drake did not wander around in oblivion. He was always on the alert for things out of the ordinary that were dangerous or disruptive of his daily routine. Recently, however, due to his stalker, he had been more on edge than usual and his instinctive reactions to things were much more forceful. Thus, when Will snuck up behind him and whispered in his ear, Drake did register that his falsetto was manlier than his stalker would likely have been, but he was so caught up in the words that he couldn't help reflexively sinking his elbow into Will's stomach before whirling around and scowling.

"You deserved that," he said, folding his arms over his racing heartbeat. He was glad that it had been Will and not his stalker for more than the obvious reasons, though. He knew that he likely would have sunk his elbow into his stalker's belly if she'd surprised him and he didn't fancy injuring a woman so forcefully. Will, at least, could probably take it better than she could.

"What are you doing anyway?" he asked, giving him his Srs Face, which was obviously different than all of his other facial expressions. "What if you'd alerted Lawrence to our presence?" Because that would happen. Obv.

[william dane baxter]

It took Will a few moments to collect his breath before he straightened again, looking at Drake. "You're an ass," he breathed, coughing a bit. He rubbed his now sore stomach and looked around a bit, surveying the area. "Do you really think Lawrence will notice anything?" he said, raising a sarcastic eyebrow. "We told him we were kidnapping him and he made no comment. He's probably buying Shamwows."

Turning to the task at hand, Will looked at the building. Hopefully Lawrence was on the first or second floor, because climbing buildings was not in Wills' repertoire of skills. The wall in front of him had crevices between the bricks, but none of them were nearly large enough to use as a hand or foothold. Will had never been rock climbing, but he had a feeling that even a professional climber would have a few issues with this one. The windows had no ledges and there was no gutter to tie oneself to. How did burglars get into places like this?

"He lives on the second floor, right?" Will asked, turning back to Drake. "Because if not I hope you either brought rope, a trampoline, or you have experience as a cheerleader."

[drake raphael elliot]

"That will teach you not to sneak up on people," Drake said, uncaring of Will's thoughts. After all, he was right and Will was stupid. "And you're probably right. Although, I could see how a Shamwow might be useful if one were prone to spilling things, which it's likely that Lawrence is." It felt strange, talking under the ski mask, but it was all for the best, really. Lawrence could not refuse entrance to two masked men. Well, he probably could, but they would just push their way in.

Drake rolled his eyes at Will. He was the worst partner ever. "I have experience opening doors," he said, monotonous. "Come on." He started forward, not bothering to check to see whether or not Will was following. If he wanted to break Lawrence's shit, he would have to come sometime anyway. Although, Drake hadn't thought as far ahead as he usually did and had not brought any blunt, smashing instruments. He hoped that Will had. He didn't really have very high expectations in that department, though. If he had forgotten something, he was sure that there was no chance that someone like Will would have remembered it.

[william dane baxter]

Will shrugged and came along, though in his opinion the object of a kidnapping was to break in dramatically and scare the living crap out of the victim before taking him and breaking every electronic he owned. However, he knew Drake always assumed he was right and that arguing the logic would do no good, so he followed along.

As they moved through the complex, Will thought for a moment about how weird the two of them must look. Here were two masked men, one in a suit--who else but Drake would wear a suit to a kidnapping?--and the other in black jeans and a shirt, both just moseying their way on through as if nothing was wrong. He didn't know about the other residents, but he knew that if this was happening where he lived he would throw things at the men in an attempt to scare them away. Like you scare away geese. Or raccoons.

He kind of looked like a raccoon at the moment. Will's infinitely small attention span snapped to this thought and he began to imagine how a raccoon would pull off a stunt like this. Probably snap tiny teeth and flash tiny claws and hope that the victim was terrified of rabies.

Needless to say, Will was not taking himself or Drake very seriously right now.

[drake raphael elliot]

Satisfied that Will was following him, Drake made his way swiftly and silently toward Lawrence's room. He thought he knew where it was, but even if he didn't, he remembered the room number. Memorizing numbers was, after all, his specialty. It was difficult to read through the ski mask, however, as his peripheral vision was partially blocked by the black material. He was starting to doubt the practicality of his outfit.

He specifically started to doubt it when a door started opening up ahead. Panicking, he grabbed Will by the shirtsleeve and forcefully dragged him into a small nook. Since the nook was more made for aesthetic appeal and to hold the building up, it was not exactly large enough to fit two fully grown men, especially not one as tall and self-claimingly broad shouldered as Drake. As such, both of them were pressed chest to chest and, with Drake panting, their chests kept bumping against each other.

"Someone's coming," he mouthed, hardly daring to speak. He just hoped they were going the opposite direction, since if they saw men in ski masks pressed into a corner, they were likely to call the police. Or, worse--take matters into their own hands and try to beat them with bats.

[william dane baxter]

Will was finding the humor in the situation. He had just been pulled into a corner and was now uncomfortably close to his friend, and neither of them was a female to make it easier. Will knew Drake would be more upset about the closeness if he made a comment, and he decided to. Looking up at Drake, he said, "If you wanted to hold me closer all you had to do was ask."

He knew Drake would probably smack him, especially since he was convinced the two of them were going to be caught and murdered at any second. Will never really understood paranoia and never succumbed to it himself, so he failed to see the danger in the situation that Drake saw. To him, it was just a couple of residents wandering down the hallway who would see two grown men pressed dangerously close together in a darkened corner. This did not bode well for his image. What if they were attractive female residents? They would think Drake was his gay lover and the evening would be ruined. Will tried to lean back so he could see around the corner.

[drake raphael elliot]

Drake's nostril flare at Will was hard enough to sliced ice, had it been visible through his ski mask. Unfortunately, most of his facial expression was hidden, so he had to content himself with glaring down at him. He would not deign any further response, however, since he knew that Will would just take it as an excuse to be more ridiculous and Drake didn't want to give them away by punching him loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

When Will peered out, Drake flailed as much as he could in their confined space before yanking him back. He was going to get them arrested with his carelessness. "What are you doing!?" he hissed, glaring at him. After a few seconds, though, he was tired of standing in the corner and, since he didn't see anything, peeked over the edge just barely. It was empty (which Will probably could have told him, but whatever) and so he inched his way out of the corner.

"Come on," he said in his normal voice. "We need to make it to thei stairs." He started forward again, keeping extra alert for possible threats or paranoid people that would be inclined to call the police without bothering to see what they were there for.

[william dane baxter]

Will was thoroughly enjoying Drake's jumpyness, and of course it would be beneath him to not use this to his advantage. "Wouldn't it be easier to take the elevator? They look for creepers in stairwells...which is logical, considering that's where all the creepers stalk their prey." This seemed perfectly intelligent to him. Plus, it had the added benefit of making Drake paranoid of his own stairwells.

"What floor does he live on again?" Will asked once they started climbing the stairs. "Because if we have to go up to the fifteenth or something, you're on your own and I'm taking the stairs." He was not a fan of physical exertion and tended to avoid it at all costs. Which is why he hijacked a golf cart and took it down a busy road, but that's a story for another day. The point of the moment was that if he was forced to climb to higher than the fourth floor, Drake would be walking alone.

[drake raphael elliot]

"You can climb a flight of stairs," Drake said, his voice like . It probably matched his hidden expression as well. "I have faith in you." They made it to the stairwell, which was as dark and lurksome as he had figured, and started up. Despite the fact that Drake was sure his pounding heart was going to give them away--ski masks had been the worst idea ever--they made it up the stairs without issue. He paused at the door to the second floor, trying to peer through the window to see if the coast was clear, but it was too tiny to see anything. Thus, he was forced to push it open slightly and scout.

The coast seemed to be clear, so he opened the door and stepped out, waiting for Will. Once they made it out to the landing, it was only a matter of a few twisty turns until they got to Lawrence's door. The way was met without much issue and Drake only paused once or twice, thinking he heard something. It was, after all, late on a Friday night. No one had any reason to be roaming the halls, since they were all likely out partying. When they finally made it to the door, Drake exchanged looks with Will before rapping smartly on the wood three times.

[william dane baxter]

Will was now not only completely lost, but bored. They had taken more time sneaking around than he really felt was necessary. Thankful that Lawrence lived on the second floor, he looked about the hallway, hoping for some other sort of interaction. But alas, it was just himself and Drake.

Will watched with a bemused expression when Drake knocked. "Do you really think that's the proper way to kidnap someone?" he asked, smirking. "Clearly you have never seen a movie." He examined the door for a second, paying close attention to the doorknob area. There was no plating around it, which was good. That meant it was probably just weak wood.

"Stand back," he instructed Drake, taking a couple of steps backwards himself. He made sure he had the spot right and then kicked the door in, just as his father had taught him. Spencer could be a pain in the ass most of the time, but he did teach some very good tricks. Like how to tell if someone is tailing you, how to escape from the trunk of a car, and the most practical--how to kick in a door.

[lawrence josef grimani]

In a studio apartment on the second floor of an apartment complex, Lawrence was pleasantly asleep in an overstuffed leather recliner to the hypnotic drone of an Insanity infomercial featuring the very buff and very excited about fitness Shawn T. The room was quiet around him aside from the occasional outbursts of jazzed up music and sweating people grunting from the forty-two inch television mounted to the apartment wall and the speakers stationed around it.

The apartment was a basic one-room studio with an elevated platform for the “bedroom” stationed toward the back of the large, open room. A kitchen nook and a (thankfully) enclosed bathroom sat off to the side of it. Dark hardwood floors and bright white walls gave it a clean appearance, despite the fact that a forgetful and rather messy man lived there. He cleaned it up on occasion and tonight, it was rather clean, if Lawrence didn’t say so himself. The professor would be happy his dishes were done before the night was over.

Lawrence snored softly in his recliner, shirtless and slightly scraggly. It was, after-all, late at night and everyone knows that men only shave in the morning. The only other ounce of clothing he was wearing were a pair of slightly worn, straight-legged dark wash jeans with the slightest bit of fraying around the edged. This was obviously a comfy sort of night for Rence – one filled with haunting the Meringue Mountain University chat room and trying to convince new students to take beginners ceramics. A shiny, flat type of Macintosh laptop sat on the table next to the sleeping man, open and flashing some sort of message that he was too asleep to read. All was quiet, and silent, and good and Lawrence shifted a little and stretched his arms over his head in his sleep.

Then, almost directly next to his head, it sounded like there was an explosion. Perhaps a gas main had exploded or someone in the apartment complex (probably Mr. Fox two doors down) had finally lost it and started blowing shit up. Lawrence shot to his feet and yelped loudly, his arms over his head inexplicably as if someone had told him to put his hands up. The man blinked sleepily as his door literally fell inward, landing mere inches from where his bare toes were stationed. Dust, sheetrock, wood splinters, and the metal numbers “239” flew all around him until the proverbial smoke cleared. It was then, and only then that Lawrence saw two masked men – not particularly hulking or terrifying – but certainly up to no good, lingering in the door way. One looked as if his leg had been the one that caused the sudden implosion of Grimani’s door.

Lawrence was angry more than worried about why two masked men where standing at his door and suddenly reverted, his hands flying all about, pointing and gesturing as he cursed and spoke angrily in full Italian – a jumble of words that were profane, slightly uncouth, and shouldn’t be heard by polite company.

[drake raphael elliot]

Had Drake not been wearing a ski mask, he would have looked shocked and apalled to everyone. As it was, he had to settle for merely feeling shocked and apalled at the fact that he was now standing in front of the splintering remains of his friend's door. He folded his arms and turned to glare at Will. His eyes, at least, were visible.

"What the hell?" he bit out, his voice more of a growl than a yell in his anger. He doubted Lawrence could hear over all of his cursing, but perhaps he recognized him anyway, what with the suit and the set of his arms. "You could have PUSHED the door open. You could have knocked and waited for Lawrence to open the door. I hope you know that you're paying for this." He turned to the cursing Lawrence, ski mask still on.

"Lawrence. He apologizes. But we're kidnapping you as soon as we prop the door over the frame to make it look like real actual robbers can't break in," he said. "Do you have any duct tape?" Nudging the debris away from his now-dusty shoes, Drake started moving around in search of useful door-patching items.

[william dane baxter]

Will saw why the other two men might be a little annoyed with him. That kick had only been intended to bust open the deadbolt, not knock the entire door in. He Will noticed with a hint of pride that he had busted the thing clear off its hinges and kept it in nearly one piece. He shrugged at Drake, ignoring Lawrence's rantings. "This was faster. And more exciting, you have to admit." He glanced around Lawrence's apartment and shook his head at the TV. "We leave you alone for all of half an hour and you're right back at it, aren't you? You need an intervention, man." He looked over at Drake, raising a sardonic eyebrow. "Duct tape? Why not just invite the thieves in with milk and cookies?"

Picking his way over the door, Will marched his way in and turned off Lawrence's television. "First step, turn off TV. It will survive without you, surprisingly. And when you do turn it on, you can watch a fascinating little thing called a movie. It's where people pretend to be things and tell a story. They're fascinating!" He adjusted his mask a bit and dusted off his shirt, realizing he had a couple of wood fragments scattered on the black fabric. He then looked up at Lawrence expectantly.