Chapter 0513

bag but not moving to open it.

Jackson follows quickly - of course - and is already pulling himself up onto the platform before I've barely pulled the gun out of its bag. Jackson murmurs his admiration as I set up the gun and then he settles down with his back against the low rail, pulling a book out of his "What," I say, laying on my belly and turning to peer at him. "You're just going to watch?"

"Watch my gorgeous mate shoot a state-of-the-arts sniper rifle at a target five hundred yards out?" His face bursts into a smile. "Hell yes I'm going to watch."

I laugh, shaking my head at him as I turn back to the gun, concentrating. "Okay, just don't interrupt."

Jackson doesn't say a word in response and I honestly forget he's there, falling into a bit of a reverie as I go over the Captain's instructions about how to take aim, how to concentrate, how to pay attention to the elements as well as my own breathing. Then, slowly, I exhale and begin to shoot.

The first few shots go wide, but I adjust every time. And then, after a few pulls of the trigger, I'm gratified by the sudden grey hole in the fabric of the target. I grin, incredibly pleased, and shoot until I count ten bullets.

Then I sit up, and take the scope off of the gun, using it to peer at the target.

all erratic and nowhere

But still, three hits.

smile

asks, his voice a deep grumble in the

it," I say, shrugging, trying to

he can feel it down the bond.

guest," I say, handing

as he hands the scope back to me. "So

answer before I say it. "Oh, settle in, puppy," I sigh, making him

appreciate. I again sink into that concentrative zone, taking my time shooting rounds of ten shots and then sitting up each time to consider my progress, to make small adjustments that I hope will make me a better shot. By the time about an hour has passed - getting us dangerously close to missing our run with Rafe and Jesse - I've shot at least two hundred bullets. And the target is satisfyingly riddled with holes, though

So. That doesn't count.

I sit up, stretching my arms over my head, still peering at the target which looks...so incredibly far away,

Clark," Jackson says, snapping his book shut and holding his

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