“This is your fault.” Samantha scowled at him, moodily.
“No way, this is totally your fault.” Sam hissed back, under his breath.
“Yours.” She whispered back.
“Yours.” Sam grumbled.
They were sat on the floor, together, in the seemingly abandoned warehouse, in their shared guise as the superhero Nova. Ropes bound their hands behind their backs, more tied around their upper arms and chests. Their legs were folded, knees tucked up to their chests, with rope around their knees and ankles. Further coils of it were looped and tied around them, keeping their legs tucked tightly up to their bodies.
Around them, gangsters busied themselves hurriedly loading crates into a couple of trucks. Guns, explosives, black market weaponry. A couple of muscled thugs stood by, keeping watch over their captives, though.
Sam rolled his eyes, while Samantha huffed to herself, irritably.
“I could have handled this.” Samantha muttered back, sharply, kee