Saying Goodbye [Tag: Chris Bradford]

Days. It had been days since Irma last heard from Chris Bradford. Those days turn into weeks. Soon those weeks would turn into a month. Still, nothing. There had been no word on the news, either. No one had seen Chris Bradford lately. She wanted to thank him for that lovely dinner. He wasn't as jerky as the media made him out to be. He made her laugh. And for once, she was showered with praise...sort of. Some people wouldn't believe Chris would stoop as low as to hook himself up with a 'librarian' type, unless it was some sort of weird fetish. She also wanted some explanation as to why he wasn't responding to her calls, and who that Japanese woman was on the newspaper.

Apparently, he was last seen at Eastman and Laird street, having lunch with a gorgeous super model from Japan. She nearly wanted to tore the newspaper into shreds. It was always the same, the guy goes after the prettiest girl he can find and exploit. He was no different or better then any of the man she had encountered throughout her life. She wish she could track this woman down and...her thoughts trailed afterwards. It was not uncommon for her to think such unhealthy thoughts, but not once had she acted on them. Normally she would make a sarcastic joke about this and moved on. It didn't meant that the pain inside wasn't real. Her heart can be broken much like everyone else's. Deep down, she doesn't stand a chance against a Japanese super model. It seems as though dating an Asian has become a trend. She would make remarks about how these girls are just using these boys just to get a green card.

Where was Chris Bradford? Why hasn't he returned her calls? Is he hurt? Did the Foot do something to him? They have become more active as of lately. If it weren't for the mysterious vigilantes they would've completely taken over the city by now. It would be a laugh that Casey Jones is amongst them. Casey is the sort of person who would do that. Although she won't admit it out loud, she envied her friend, April, for snagging a neanderthal like him.

Everyone in the city is in love, except her.

She gripped onto the edges of the newspaper, blood rushing to her cheeks. How would she give to tear Chris Bradford apart, like that newspaper laying on the ground.

Chris' eyes suddenly popped open. Those cerulean blue orbs once again greeted the world. Only this time it was by a painful reminder. No alarm, no one double-checking on his condition. Just the soreness slowly being drained from his chest and shoulder. The martial arts champion was stung immediately upon awakening by a sharp pain where a bullet cap had once been embedded. What a damn shame this was. So helpless, so useless. Shredder had not been pleased with him as of late. He didn't even show sympathy when his right-hand was found unconscious.

It had to be the work of the Foot Clan laboratory. Shredder probably ordered his doctors to make him feel as miserable as possible. Hell, it was probably his sense of humor. It was Shredder's low opinion on failure that struck at his ego so much, made him pushy. But Chris started realizing that maybe it was his scheme to try and make Chris see that victory was all that mattered. Regardless, he rolled out of bed as the pain struck at him with each muscle being flexed. The pain was almost too much to bear. He checked the calls on his cell and realized he'd missed a ton of them from Irma. Uh-oh.

He quickly got dressed and threw on his most casual suit that consisted of a design tee and a pair of faded jeans. It was one of his more notorious choices as he was most known for dressing lavish and sophisticated; more like egotistical. It was time. Time to go outside since the first time he'd been shot. His left arm was in a navy blue sling. He felt so low. So bottom-of-the-barrel. So useless. But it had to be done. After all, the martial arts superstar wanted to be viewed as a 'tough, manly hero' and wincing from a gunshot wound could alter everyone's perspective of him just like that. His reputation was very important.

Irma had to be at home. That was where he would look first. It didn't take the superstar long to actually walk from the tower out into the city itself. He was going to walk there, on foot. His initial plan for Irma was a lot different from what he had in mind for her as of this moment. Though the plan could still work swimmingly. Chris approached her apartment, after having climbed several painstaking stairs to ascend, and lifted his hand to knock - a shame it was his bad arm. Had he forgotten so quickly? Chris cursed himself and shook his head. He knocked, with the right hand this time.

"Irma... ? Irma, you home? It's me, it's... Chris."

Irma was grumbling to herself when she heard a knock on the door. A familiar voice called from the other side of the door. Could it be? Nyah, she was imagining things. It would be rude to leave them hanging. Checking through the peep hole, she realized it was Chris Bradford, but he looked like he was in bad shape.

Gingerly she opened the door. At that moment, a mix of emotions started to resurface. A part of her wanted to smack him across the face for keeping her waiting like that,"Didn't anybody tell you that its not polite to leave a lady hanging like that?" She looked him over. Although still angry, there was a look of concern as well, "What the hell happened to you?" She widened the door, letting him inside the apartment.

She looked him over. He was a mess. His arm was in a sling. She hoped that he had a good excuse for this and that his injuries were the reason why he hasn't called her. She closed the door behind her and offer a seat on the couch. She crossed her arms and scowled at him, waiting for an explanation.

As soon as she opened the door, Chris straightened himself. His posture was near-perfect. But she wasn't too thrilled to see him. In fact, she had this sort of scowl on her face like she just wanted to rip him apart like an old newspaper. Chris' eyebrows lifted in an attempt to meet her intimidating gaze - something all men had dubbed 'the look'! Chris didn't know how to face that stare down. Irma was a firecracker.

Eventually, she stepped aside to let him in. Chris took caution as he stepped in out of fear of being clocked with a frying pan. Did Irma even cook? Whatever. The action star moved over to the couch and as he shifted his position with his hands left at chest-level, Irma glared at him. She looked super-pissed. "Irma, what is it? You're not gonna let up, are you? Alright, fine...", he started. Taking a large breath, he started. "One of the, uh, Purple Dragons... They... They shot me. In the chest. The wound was just centimeters from hitting my heart.", he explained. Was it working? Probably not. Shit.

Chris clasped both hands together and placed them against his forehead as he slumped forward. He started chuckling. Now he would have to play his part with no mistakes. It was time to pull out the dramatic actor from within the muscled action hero. "Sorry I couldn't call you back. I mean, I was just laid up in the hospital nearly dead, no biggie! Yeah, frown all ya want! I don't need your pity... Don't need your sympathy. I suppose a phone call is more important than healing from a fatal-fucking-wound! Later," Chris declared as he shot up from the couch and headed for the door...

Irma blocked the door to keep him from getting away. The look of anger seems to have dissolved to annoyance,"That is not the reason why I'm pissed." She waved a magazine article in front of her and brandished it under his nose,"What the hell is this?" She pointed at a picture of himself with a Japanese woman,"Apparently your little lunch wasn't exactly private. Who the hell is she, Bradford?"

Oh crap.

Chris was close to making his dramatic exit. The setting was perfect. The foundation had been laid so beautifully. But one little detail still escaped him - Irma wasn't stupid. Irma wasn't one of his usual bimbos and she had proved time and time again that she did, in fact, have brains. Unlike a lot of his dates. Chris made a disgusted expression and placed his hand over his face. He peeked out through his fingers and noticed her expression still remained the same.

"Oh, that!", Chris laughed nervously. "That-That's nothing. Heh, you know the tabloids...", he awkwardly tried to resolve it but it was clear that this was one battle his martial arts would not be useful in. Chris knew he had to confess. He knew that he had to be upfront with Irma if he wanted this scheme to work. She wasn't born yesterday. Chris relented. He turned, taking a few steps toward the living area as he rubbed his forehead.

Then, he faced her yet again. His beautiful blues stared passionately and truthfully into her own dark orbs. "She's sorta like my sister, Irma. She's just a good friend! I know, it doesn't hold much weight coming from a guy like me. I know my reputation and I'm well aware of what the tabloids say about me. I get it! But it was just a dinner between two friends, that's all!" Chris explained with his heart held so high it was practically in his throat. "It was just a nothing dinner with a friend. Honest," he added. Chris slowly moved closer to Irma and stared down at her.

He lifted his right hand slowly and began to caress her cheek with the back of his hand. The 'puppy dog eyes' had to work.

Irma's scowled deepened, her eyes burrowing deep into his. She was trying to see if he was telling the truth. This woman is beautiful. She was the sort of person who would love to cling to his arm. And he did had a reputation for eyeing women who would've looked as though they'd be Playmate of the year so it was unusual to hear him speak of a woman like that.

"Since when do you have friends, Chris?" Her tone seem to softened, at least. It was still harsh. He wasn't letting him off the hook that easily. The tenseness coming from her muscles seem to relax the moment she felt his touch. "I hope you are telling the truth, though. You're here, at least, so I might as well trust you, for the time being."

She sat back on the couch,"You can stay as long as you need to. I promise, I won't whack you with a frying pan." She gestured at the spot he sat earlier, "So you went one on one with the Purple Dragons, huh? What happened to make them hate you so much?"

Since when did he have friends? Ouch. Chris had never truly thought about it but she was actually right enough in that statement. He simply lowered his head without looking up at her. What was he supposed to say to that? Though it did sting a little more than his actual physical wound, Chris sucked it up. There were no friends in the Foot Clan really. Well, Mizune... But was she his friend?

What the hell were they? No matter. Not the right time to be thinking of another woman anyway. He realized all too well that Irma had slowly started forgiving him. What was it with women? So jealous. So needy. He followed her over to the couch and he sat down easily as not to agitate his wound. Then, Irma hit him with the big question. It was a good thing he was quick on his feet with this.

"Same old shit, Irma. They wanted something I had, I didn't give it to them. They tried taking it. Simple as that," he claimed but was it the whole truth? Of course not. Irma would never buy that he was a ninja master working for a highly dangerous clan made up of skilled assassins and criminals... Or would she? "It's always the same crap with those clowns.", Chris added at the last second.

He grit his teeth as he tried to relax himself on her couch. It was a bit stiff, but then again so was he. He hadn't seen any action in days. He was depraved. "Things seem good around here. Kept yourself busy? Any guys I should know about, making hits on my girl?", the action hero teased as he playfully glared at her with his 'macho' expressions. He took her slender hand in his own and placed them both on her thigh.

"Damn those Dragons! Someone should put them away for good." Irma didn't know that Bradford was leading a double life. It was better if she didn't know. Right now, all the secretary knew is that Bradford is some hot shot actor with a violent temper. He is being docile as a lamb, at least for now. It is rare to see this side of him. Has he gone soft?

He made a movement that caught her off guard. He took her hand into his own and laid it down on her thigh. She felt the heat going through her cheeks. "Same old, same old. Same old Jones, same old O' Neil, same old everything." She shrugged her shoulders.

Her life has been very quiet. How she would give to have at least a little action in her life. Lately she noticed April have been keeping secrets from her. She didn't know what kind of secret it was, but it was better not to badger her best friend about it. April probably had her reasons. When the time is right, she would tell her the truth.

So, it seemed Irma was pretty much over the tabloid photo of him and Mizune. He wondered if Mizune was aware that she was even in the paper. He wished he could've seen her face once she realized it; did anyone even read the paper anymore? Besides Irma, that is. Chris didn't think newsprint was even relevant this day and age. The age of technology and the internet. Nerds.

"Aah, I see. Interesting.", Chris remarked in a sarcastic tone but attempted to mask it well. Boy, Irma didn't have much of a life to discuss. It should be easy to break her as her will would not be strong. Shredder discussed with Bradford during his recovery that, should he so choose it, there was a way for him to 'heal' from his wounds. Not just heal, heal fast. He debated the idea. But there was a very noticeable drawback.

He hid this information from Irma as it would likely freak her out. He didn't know where she stood on the whole 'mutants' topic and wasn't about to bring it up, just in case her reaction was less than kind. But upon realizing that the mutagen could actually save his life for the long term was enticing. All he had to do was sign on the dotted line, so to speak. Shredder would handle everything else.

Bradford reached up and began stroking her dark hair, letting his fingers break through her thick locks as he smiled softly at her. "I don't guess you're into that whole 'kissing' thing, are you? Ah, what the hell-," Chris questioned but quickly turned it into a full-blown make out with Irma. He pressed his lips against hers and held her close. The action star hadn't seen much action since his accident. But hot damn, was it worth the wait!

Irma's eyes widened. Shouldn't this wait until their second date? Okay, so this qualifies as their second date, but it was too soon to go to second base. She would've enjoyed this if he wasn't hurt,"Uh...Chris...?" She mumbled, his lips completely covering hers. She fought the urge not to swoon, then she grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him back,"Are you crazy? You're hurt! You're going to make that injury even worse!"

Things were going way too fast. It was quite obvious that something was wrong. He was keeping something from her. That was the reason why he was moving so quickly. But isn't this what she wanted? For everything to be like in the romance novels she privately reads? Still, it felt wrong somehow. He was nearly killed by the Purple Dragons. How is he able to walk? Hell, how did he know where she lived? She must've gave him the address while they were on their brief 'date'.

"Something is not right....about any of this. Chris, you are hurt. You should've stayed in bed. What is really going on around here? I know I'm not your type, so what gives? Or are you just trying to play a trick on me?" That last word ended on mistrust. Why did Chris Bradford pick her up all of a sudden, especially when the women in his life are better looking then her. She is the kind of person who always has been the butt of everyone's joke. And she has had enough.

Chris was really laying it on her until Irma chimed in and shoved him off. The master of lip-locking had been rejected; out of bounds; back on the starting line. So, it was all for nothing? His affections? Irma started going on and on about how she wasn't the usual type to be seen with someone like him, a true beefcake. She was insinuating something. Fine. If that's how she wanted to play it... Okay.

"You know, it's no surprise why you can't keep a stable relationship! You're nuts!", Chris blurted out as he folded his good arm across his chest and looked away from Irma. He began shaking his head. "Yeah, I'm hurt. Whaddya want me to do? Cry about it? I'm not gonna let some stupid little injury keep me from living a normal life, and you should understand that!", he continued. Where was he going with all of this? He didn't have a clue. But if he could just divert her attention...

Bradford shot up from the couch with his tongue pressed against his cheek in agitation. He was getting sick and tired of being labeled by this doofus. He made his way for the door again and this time he flung it wide open. But before stepping out, Bradford paused. "For someone who doesn't like being labeled by other people you sure have a bad habit of doing it yourself. Bye, Irma.", the action star sulked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

But with his back turned, Bradford was smiling. It was an evil, sheepish grin that implied his dark heart knew more than he was letting on. A few Foot soldiers were perched on top of the complex as they watched Shredder's 'lapdog' leave Irma's apartment. They knew something, too.

Hurt, anger surged throughout her body like electricity. Grabbing a random object, she tossed it at the door,""I'm only saying that because I was concerned about your health, you inconsiderate jackass! But fine, then. Go back to your little geisha. I know Asians are all the rage these days!" That last sentence ended with sarcasm and fury.

Everything was going perfectly. She even thought he liked her, at least for awhile. It wasn't her fault she didn't trust too easily. And that was the problem, right? She repelled the opposite sex. The first guy who was ever even interested in her just walked out. Well, it wasn't her fault. In the end all guys are the same. They leave eventually.

But why did her eyes started to fill with tears? Burying her face into her hands, she started to cry. Never knowing that the Foot were outside her apartment. They had trailed him. They seem to know something was up. Master Shredder was not going to be happy.