Chapter Text
Surprisingly enough, getting the book is the easy part. Billy really does catch up to Harrington in the center chamber of the temple, a few bullets lighter and breathing a just a little heavier from the way he just sprinted down a hallway while projectiles that might have been arrows, maybe darts, came flying at him from the walls.
"You can't speak Russian," is what Harrington says, accusing. He doesn't look up from where he's got what Billy can only assume is the book, the one that will supposedly save the world.
"I swear to god, Professor, you are the hardest person to please. I may not speak Russian specifically, but 'asshole' is a universal word." Billy doesn't put his revolvers away, even though he's sure no one followed him down the hallway. "How did you get through the hallway?"
"They were triggered by pressure plates," Harrington replies. He's still not looking up from the book. "You just don't step where the stone is raised, Mr. Hargrove. I'm guessing you went down the hall at a dead run?" He finally raises his head, and it's to give Billy a withering look.
Billy's starting to get the feeling that Harrington might be annoyed about something. "You're awfully pissy, considering I just survived being shot at so you could get this book." He jabs a finger down at the pages, and glances down when they don't feel like paper. Smoother, maybe. Metallic? The characters on the page aren't any language he recognizes, even though he's upside-down. "Can you read this? That's not Egyptian heiroglyphics... not Phoenician either."
"You know..." Harrington's brow furrowed.
Billy's a little offended, now. "I'm not completely stupid, Professor," he snaps. "I can read."
"Stop calling me that!" Harrington snaps back. "If you're going to kiss me before you throw yourself in front of a bullet, the least you can do is call me by my name."
"You just called me 'Mr. Hargrove,'" Billy points out.
"And you're the one who kissed me!" Harrington's voice echoes around the stone room, startling the both of them. There are chambers off to the sides, dark doorways that presumably lead to hallways that presumably lead to terrible things.
There's a rattling sound coming from one of those dark hallways. They're very far away from rattlesnake country, though, and it would have to be a pretty big snake. A lot of snakes, now that Billy's listening a little more intently. Or maybe it's not that Billy's listening.
Maybe whatever it is is getting closer.
"We should go," Billy says urgently, grabbing Harrington's arm.
Billy does not have words to describe the four-legged monstrosities that burst out of the other hallways, faces opening into terrifying toothy mouths. Harrington does, though, hissing out, "Demodogs, run!"
He doesn't have to tell Billy twice. He grabs Harrington around the waist and throws him over his shoulder, turning and heading for the hallway he just came out of at a dead run. He'll take arrows or darts or even bullets over the monsters that are behind them.
"The pressure plates!" Harrington shouts, just as Billy steps wrong and projectiles start flying out of the walls. It's a calculated move - as soon as he breaks out of the hallway, the pack of creatures that's behind them is lessened, slowed or even stopped by the temple's defense systems.
"Designed to keep people out!" Billy shouts over what is first angry Russian, and then terrified Russian as the creatures follow. "Probably also designed to keep those in!"
The run out of the temple is a little easier, now that the demodogs or whatever Harrington called them have a target other than the two of them to focus on, if the screaming behind them is any indication. Billy doesn't slow, though, until they're well into the jungle, temple out of sight and quiet in the night around them.
"You can put me down," Harrington says from over Billy's shoulder.
Yeah, Billy supposes he can. He carefully gets Harrington back on his feet, and then leans against a tree that's far larger than it has any right to be to catch his breath. "So," he says, panting. "That what we're saving the world from?"
"That's part of it," Harrington says. He's shoving the book into his bag.
"Oh, good. That means there's more." Billy closes his eyes for a second. He's athletic, in great shape, but damn. "But you can read that book, and you can fix it?"
"Well." Harrington clears his throat, and Billy opens his eyes to find him looking sheepish. "I actually can't read the book."
Never before has Billy gone between murderous and insanely attracted at such a rapid pace. "You can't read the book."
"But I know who can!" Harrington says quickly. "Ele - I mean, Jane can do it."
"Jane is twelve," Billy says, slowly. "You're telling me that a twelve-year-old is going to be able to read a book from another dimension?" He closes his eyes again, drops his head back against the tree trunk. "Steve, if I didn't want to kiss you as much as I do, I think I'd strangle you."
Silence follows his words, and Billy wonders if he's pushed things too far. Then, he feels a hand on his chest, and soft lips press carefully to his. He smiles against them and lifts a hand to tangle in Steve's hair, deepening it.
When they finally break the part, Billy's breathing heavy for a completely different reason. It'll have to wait, though. "Alright, Steve," he says, takes in the way that Steve's cheeks are red and his lips are a little kiss-swollen. "Let's go save the world."