Title: Catastrophic Decontamination
Challenge: Hot Chocolate, prompt: catastrophic
Rating & Warnings: I have no idea how to rate this but I will warn for death and (probably) lack of plausibility.
Summary: Famous last words: Sit still, keep quiet, and don't touch anything!
Author’s/Artist’s Note: I really love Dominic & I hate to do this to him. Hopefully, he'll forgive me. Decontamination idea inspired by Walking Dead and Resident Evil but this is definitely not a fanfic. Also, no zombies *g* No beta - all errors are mine and (hopefully) forgivable!
Word Count: 685 words. I tried to cut it down but it just wasn't happening. I think it should be a pretty quick read though.
"This is kinda exciting," Dominic whispered. "I always loved being where I'm not supposed to be when I'm not supposed to be there." He cracked a smile and nudged me with his elbow. I bumped him with my hip and slid my key card through the lock. "Aw, Dom, it's not that exciting. It's just the lab where I work. Nothing thrilling, I promise." The light on the lock flashed green and I pulled the door open. "I can be here any time I want to, but I'll get in big trouble if anyone finds out I brought you with me. Just sit still, keep quiet, and don't touch anything! We'll be out of here in a half-hour, tops."
We crossed the darkened lobby of ThermaCorp and took the stairs to my lab. Technically, it wasn't my laboratory, but I was a part of the team. I was nervous; bringing Dom with me was risky. I shouldn't have done it, but some of the tests I'd been working on earlier were weighing on my mind. I just needed to check a couple of the figures, make sure that I did see what I'd thought. If I was right, ThermaCorp was on the verge of a major medical breakthrough.
I slid my hand into Dom's and threaded my fingers with his. "Baby, if I'm right about this test, my team is going to be a part of something really special. We'll be able to help so many people! Can you imagine?" I smiled, thoroughly enchanted with the idea. I swiped my card through the laboratory lock and the door slid open with a quiet swish, the lights coming on automatically. We hurried through the door and I pushed the button to close it behind us.
I led Dom to a chair out of the way of where I'd be working and pushed him down into the seat. I pressed a kiss to his lips, then said, "Now, I mean it. Sit here and don't touch anything! I'll hurry, I promise." He stuck his tongue out at me and leaned back in the chair, his hands clasped together in his lap. "Yes, ma'am. I'll be on my very best behavior."
I logged into the workstation and began pulling up the various files I needed, keeping an eye on Dom as I worked. True to his word, he sat quietly, looking around at the cabinets and storage fridges that we used for our test samples.
I found the data I was looking for and, unable to contain my excitement, ran across the lab and threw myself into Dom's arms. "I was right," I crowed, triumphant. "The data is right! I can't wait to show this to Dr. Moore in the morning!"
Dom lifted me in his arms and spun us around. "I knew it, babe! I just knew this was going to be your big breakthrough!"
As we spun, Dom caught his foot on the leg of the chair he'd been sitting in and lost his balance. He threw his arm out and braced himself against the wall. I heard a fragile crack before the klaxon wailing of alarms began. Steel doors slammed down around the room; every escape route was blocked.
"What is that?" Dom cried, his hands over his ears to muffle the sound. I ran to the workstation and began frantically punching commands into the keyboard. "That was the emergency button, Dom. It signals a catastrophic spill or leak and begins the decontamination countdown. If I can't shut it down, the lab will be destroyed!"
None of the commands I typed in had any effect. The countdown clock reached sixty seconds, and I gave up. I turned to look at Dom; there were tears in his eyes as he said, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to. I just wanted to spend some time with you."
All I could do was wrap my arms around him and hold on as the clock ticked down. It wasn't his fault, but mine.
There's just no time for recriminations when you only have 30 seconds to live.