Parental Advisory Rating: L, AC & V
Break out those V-Chips, everyone!
Writers: TNovan, XWPFanatic and Tonya Muir
Scenes from last weekís episode:
"Whatís up, Little Roo?" I nod to the package she has in her hand.
"Dramamine. I donít fly well."
"Youíre afraid of flying?"
"Not afraid, really. Itís more of a claustrophobic issue."
"Then," I lean over and whisper, "arenít you glad you came out of the closet?"
As I pan back from Samís close-up to take in the whole group, I see an odd smile on Scampís thin lips. "And so it begins."
We donít consider his vague statement for very long before the men in the group that just came up the stairs all pull guns. In a blink of an eye, their short spokesman is shot in the back. Another crack of gunshot leaves Sam on the ground.
"Jesus Christ," I yell. I reach out my free hand towards Kelsey and am relieved when I feel the soft flesh of her hand meet my palm.
Pete opens a door and shoves us into a tiny room, slamming the door behind us.
The room is nothing more than an oversized closet and is lit from a bare dangling bulb in the middle. The walls and floor are all seamless grey concrete. Looking up proves to me the ceiling offers no better possibilities. We hear the ominous sound of a deadbolt and chain behind us.
I glance over to Kelsey who is also taking in our surroundings, shaking her head. Slowly our eyes meet and hers look suddenly sad.
"Just another story, huh?" she asks with a raised eyebrow.
Episode Nine: The Long Kiss Goodnight
Itís chilly when I wake. I canít help but shake a little bit. The tiny room is empty except for Harper and me. There are no windows in this little room, just one naked bulb that hangs from the ceiling by a wire which looks like it could give at any second. This is a bad cliché. Jail was better than this. I try to sit up wondering when theyíre going to come kill us, if the room doesnít do me in first. I shiver again.
"Címere." Her voice is soft and comes from the corner. I manage to focus on Harper. Sheís leaning with her back against the wall, holding her hand out to me. "Címere, Kels. Youíre cold. Iím not going to feel you up."
I slowly scoot across the cold concrete floor to her and she wraps her arms around me as she settles her jacket over us. The leather is already warm from her body heat and it instantly feels good. "Thanks," I whisper as I lay my head on her shoulder. Under any other circumstance I bet I could really get into this, provided I was drunk as hell and out of my mind. Right now, though, all I want is her body warmth.
"Harper? Do you think they are going to kill us?"
"Nah, cher, never." Her New Orleans accent comes out stronger with this reassurance. She looks down and gives me a smile. I like both the smile and the accent. "Weíll be fine, just fine." Her arms tighten around me, holding me close.
God, I never really noticed how good she smells before. Even after a day of not showering she still has a scent that is simply, well, for lack of a better word and noted in a purely detached manner, erotic. I canít really describe it well without not doing it justice. It reminds me of the smell of summer rain and winter nights by the fireplace, all natural and primal and musky. No wonder she has women lining up at her bedroom door.
The door rattles as a key enters the lock. I jerk away from Harper, immediately missing her warmth. She lets me keep the jacket though. The last thing I want to do is give these maniacs any additional reason to hurt us; somehow I figure being lesbian is a big no-no here.
When the door opens, an armed guard lets a small brunette woman into the room with a tray of food. She sets it on the floor and slides it into the room without a word. They back out and the door closes again. Glad to see the Womenís Movement is alive and well in Omaha.
Harper pulls the tray over and uncovers it. "Hmm Ö looks like weíre going to live for sure."
"What makes you say that?"
"If they were gonna kill us, they wouldnít feed us this well." She explains as she pops a piece of bacon in her mouth.
I look at the tempting bacon, eggs and biscuits. Apparently, diets and cholesterol counts mean nothing to these people. "Maybe the food is poisoned."
She manages to swallow before giving me a dirty look. "That was cruel."
"Sorry." I shrug a bit then decide to go ahead and eat anyhow. Hell, if theyíre going to kill us I may as well choose which way I want to go. And on a full stomach sounds best right now. This is as opposed to riddled with bullets. I break off another piece of bacon and offer it to her. She leans forward and takes it from my fingers with her mouth. Oh God. Iím about to die and I am incredibly turned on. Not fair. So not fair. "Wonder whatís going on outside?" I think I manage to sound almost nonchalant.
Harper chuckles, enjoying my discomfort. "Well, after breakfast," she reaches for a carton of milk and sips, "weíll try to wrangle a trip to the little hostageís room and see what we can find out."
"Good plan. Iím going to need that anyhow."
"Me too," she admits with a little laugh.
"Ah Ö so Harper Kingsley does function like a normal human."
"Oh yeah. I even put my pants on one leg at a time."
I canít resist playing a little. "So, how do you get out of them?"
"As quickly as possible." She grins at me.
Oh, she is good. As I look at her now, Iím betting very good. Oh hell, I guessed that from the moment I saw her on the motorcycle. Some part of me is sorry that Iíll never find out. Did I just think that? Christ, Kels get a fucking grip. She is not even your type.
Beth is your type. And you spent most of the last weekend with her taking you to places you hadnít been in a long time. Now slam the damn cage door shut Ďtil she comes back into town. In another six months or so. Oh God.
She offers me the milk and I take a drink. "Thanks. You like apple?" I ask as I pick up a slice from the tray.
"Will you feed it to me?"
"Ah, no." I hold it out to her. "Youíre a big girl now. You know how to feed yourself. Iíve seen you do it."
She takes the apple, then pushes off the wall to stand up. She stretches, reaching high above her head and twisting at the waist a little.
"Yeah, Iíve got to admit, Iím not accustomed to sleeping on a hard floor. Besides, lugging the gear around has taken its toll on my back. I get an adjustment once a week, but I had to miss it to come here."
She turns to me. "What?"
"Lay down. On your stomach," I add. Just so sheís clear on my intentions. Actually, that doesnít really make any difference, but Ö Jesus, Kelsey, get a grip on your hormones.
She shakes her head a bit, as if able to read my thoughts, but does as I tell her.
I move over her and straddle her lower back. I try not to concentrate on where our bodies are touching. Rubbing my hands together to warm them, I lean down to speak into her left ear. "Do you trust me?"
"Okay, good. Lay your arms at your side, take a deep breath, and hold it."
Again, she does as I ask. I position my hands alongside her spine. "Now, exhale." She does. I apply a slight pressure with an upward movement, and I hear and feel everything move back into place.
"Ohhhh God, that felt good," she groans. She lifts her head and turns to look at me, her eyes conveying ultimate pleasure.
God, she has bedroom eyes.
"Where in the hell did you learn to do that?"
"My grandfather had a bad back. He taught me." I get up and move back to the breakfast tray before I do anything I might regret.
She rolls over onto her side, and props her head up in the palm of her hand. "Your grandfather?"
"I spent a lot of time with my grandparents as a child. My folks were never really meant to be parents."
"Youíre an only child then?"
"Yes, thank God. Iím glad they did that right."
I shake my head. "Nothing. Never mind."
"íKay." She stands up and moves to the door, listening first, then she raps on it with her knuckles. "Hey!"
Iím a bit surprised when she gets an answer. "Whaddya want?"
"The lady needs use of the facilities and I wouldnít mind the chance either." She looks over and gives me a little wink. I canít help but smile.
She steps back when the lock turns, followed by the knob. I get to my feet dusting my hands off as the door opens. Another gun wielding man looks in at us then waves the barrel of the gun at me. "You first."
That was an honest to God growl I just heard from Harper.
"We go together. Youíre not separating us."
"Lady, I got the fucking gun." He explains this slowly, as if she might be mentally impaired.
"Only because I choose to let you keep it," she replies with the same tone. "Youíre not separating us. We came in here together, we stay that way."
I watch as he tightens the grip on his gun as he considers this turn of events. Itís clear he believes hostages are supposed to be easy to intimidate. Harper isnít. I wonder if sheís serious about him only having the gun because she lets him keep it. For some reason I am inclined to believe her. She turns and offers me her hand, which I am more than willing to take.
As my hand slides into hers, she gives it a little squeeze. "Come on, Little Roo."
As we walk past him, Harper moves me in front of her and keeps her hands on my shoulders. She glances around, checking for her gear, Iím sure. I look over and am relieved that itís still there.
"Bathroom is right there." Our guard points to a door at our left.
Harper opens the door and looks in. "Well, at least itís indoors," she mumbles as she opens the door further. "You guys never heard that little saying about cleanliness and godliness?" She directs this comment to our captor, who scowls at her, but doesnít reply. "You go first." She gives me a wink as she allows me to go in. I leave the door ajar just a little and I see her place her body right in front of it. From my vantage point I can see her standing there with her legs slightly apart and her arms crossed.
"You stay right there, butch," she warns as she holds up a hand in challenge to our guard. "Let the lady have some privacy." She reaches back and pulls the door a little tighter, but still leaves it open just a bit.
Now itís Harperís turn. Somehow I donít think Iím going to be the imposing door sentry she was. Though I quickly realize I wonít have to worry about it; she refuses to close the door. She motions for me to turn around, which I am more than happy to do, more for my own peace of mind than to offer my partner privacy. Our guard stares, however.
"She got something you never seen before?" I ask as I cross my arms. He blushes and turns away, finding the wall more interesting.
Very soon I hear the toilet flush and her zipping her jeans. She washes her hands in the grimy sink. Her mother taught her manners. Iím impressed. Our guard motions us back toward the room.
Harper pauses as she points to a pile of blankets on a shelf. "I want a few of those." He acquiesces and she retrieves a couple.
As he opens the door, I hesitate as my brain takes in the small room. Oh God!
I feel a sweaty hand on my arm and I hear that growl again.
"Get your fucking hand off her!"
Before Iím sure whatís happening she has his wrist in her hand and is prying it away from my arm.
I turn to see him stick the gun in her ribs. He says angrily, "Let go of me and get inside or Iíll pop you right now."
"Touch her again and Iíll break your worthless neck," she hisses as she pushes his hand away. She makes a show of wiping her hand on her jeans.
I take a deep breath and step back into our cell. Harper follows, but only after her stare down is ended by a poke in the ribs from the barrel of the gun. She moves inside but blocks the door with her body. "Tell your boss I want to see him too." After her last demand, she steps back and he closes the door.
She turns to me with a smile. "You okay?"
All I can do is nod.
"You know, I just get you to come out of the closet and then I end up in one. Ironic, huh?"
I look around and begin shaking as the walls begin closing in on me. I feel the sweat break out on my forehead as the tunnel vision starts. I can hear my breath becoming ragged.
"Shit! Oh Christ, Kels, Iím sorry, I forgot."
I hear her and I can feel a blanket going around my shoulders but my vision is blurring and Iím shaking uncontrollably.
"Breathe, Kels. Come on, take long, deep breaths and relax. I got you!" I can feel her arms around me. "Come on, Kels, take a long, deep breath. Listen to the sound of my voice. Close your eyes and listen to the sound of my voice."
* * *
I finally have her calmed down. Sheís resting with her head in my lap as I comb my fingers through her hair. This is a universal calmer for upset women, Iíve discovered. I first discovered it with my little niece, Caitlin, but Iíve tried on a variety of sized females. All respond very well.
A glance down at Kelsey leads me to think she might be sleeping. I canít really tell. She still shivers from time to time even though I have covered her with two of the blankets I procured from the nimrod outside the door.
Then there is the occasional whimper she emits. You know sometimes fear, pain and pleasure all have sounds that are very much alike. Those sounds leaving my partnerís body make me not help but wonder what she sounds like in the throes of passion. One thing is for sure, if I ever want to find out, I have to get us out of here.
"Harper?" she says, her voice quivering.
"Yeah, Little Roo."
"Can I tell you something?"
"Sure you can."
She rolls over and opens her eyes. A single tear slides down the side of her face as she looks at me. "Iím scared and I donít want to die."
I wonder what this admission has cost her. "Donít worry about anything, Kels. Iím not going to let anything happen. ĎSides Chambers would have my ass if I let something happen to the Talent. Now, can I tell you something?"
"I think for someone whoís claustrophobic youíre doing really well."
"It helps having you here. Your voice is very soothing."
I canít help but laugh hard. My voice has been called a lot of things. Soothing ainít one of them. Especially not with some of the things Iím rather fond of saying. "Well, you be sure to let me know if my voice, or any other part of me, can be of service."
"Actually," she says as she sits up and runs a hand through her hair. "Hold me. Please?"
Itís not really a question or a demand, more of an expectation. One we both donít want to disappoint. I find myself opening my arms to her. She moves into them easily and snuggles in, laying her head on my shoulder. I can still feel the tension in her body as I enclose her in my arms. She is truly terrified. "I got you, Little Roo. Just relax."
She nods, her chin brushing the cotton over my breast. I scratch the base of her neck instinctually. She looks up at me and our eyes truly meet for the first time.
Ah, what the hell. We may end up dead anyway, despite my assurances to Kelsey, so I may as well take the chance. I pull her close to me, molding our bodies together, noticing how her breasts fit under mine, how good she smells, how green her eyes are, and a thousand other small details. I duck my head closer to hers. Our lips barley brush against each other, as if it were almost an accident.
Oh, they are as soft as I knew they would be. I must have more of them. I donít feel her resisting in any way. As a matter of fact, she is moving closer to me, sliding her arms around my neck, tangling her fingers in my hair.
The request is made and she opens up to me. Our kiss is long, deep and passionate. God, she tastes good. No wonder Elizabeth flies across the damn country to have more of her. Iíd crawl.
I hear her moan and I know that we have to stop before itís too late. Before dipshit outside hears us and interrupts, perhaps violently. Hesitantly, very hesitantly, I pull back and the kiss ends.
She simply looks at me for a long moment before she closes her eyes and puts her head back on my shoulder.
Just after she does, the door opens. She tries to pull away, but I wonít let her. She simply feels too good against me. I look up to find Scamp staring down at us.
"What in the hell!" he growls as he steps in.
Well, that answers the question about how they feel about same sex relationships. Fuckiní psycho religious wacko bastards. I say, in as calm a tone as I can manage, "Sheís sick and sheís scared. Sheís claustrophobic and this place is getting to her."
"She has a fear of small places, nimrod. Itís making her sick to be in here. Now if you donít want more problems than you already have, you might want to find us better accommodations."
"Pushy bitch, ainít ya?"
"Worse has been said about me, asshole."
"Whatís keeping me from killing you right now?"
I watch as his hand tightens around his own gun. Kels never looks up but I hear a slight whimper and feel her shiver.
"You know as well as I do that youíre using us as leverage. Weíre hostages. You think you can get something for us. My guess is this whole little coup of yours is taking place under police observation. Your junior assholes went into town, stirred up more trouble, fled back here with cops on their tails, and you used the situation to your advantage. Youíre now barely in control of the compound, supported by armed teenagers stupider than you, and Ė most likely Ė surrounded by the local police force. Your only hope of getting out of this with your head still attached to your worthless and unattractive body is using us as bargaining chips. If you have any clue at all, youíve figured out that this woman here is worth a ĎGet out of jail freeí card for you. Sheís gold. And without her, your ass is grass."
We share a long, hate-filled stare. He knows Iím right. I know Iím right. As I feel Kelsey stop shivering, I know she knows Iím right.
Finally, he barks, "Get the fuck up! Now!"
I nudge Kels reluctantly and help her to her feet. I manage to keep the blanket around her as we get up. Thereís no way in hell Iím letting go of her and Scamp can see that. Heís challenging me, and Iím challenging him right back. Donít fuck with me, fella. I have tricks you canít even imagine in that tiny, sick little mind of yours.
He motions us out of the room with the barrel of the gun. We begin a slow walk down a small corridor which is fortunately lined with windows. I take a deep breath when I get a good look outside. I can see up the slight slope surrounding the compound. There, on the ridge, are cops of all kinds and the National Guard surrounding the place.
Just fucking wonderful.
Well, if the ATF doesnít get involved, we might survive this.
And, ooh, does it feel good to be proven correct. Iíve never been happier to see that many guns around me. Well, except for that one time in the Bayou, but thatís a completely different story.
"Cops," I whisper to Kels who still has her head down and her eyes closed. "Lots of cops."
I feel her clutch my shirt.
"Weíre okay, Little Roo. Just keep walking."
We are finally put in another room. A much larger one with a window that has wire and bars over it. At least now we can see out and keep an eye on things. This room also has two cots. I take Kels over and lay her down. "Rest."
"Donít leave me."
"Iím not going anywhere, Kels. Relax." I run my fingers through her hair then stand and turn to face Scamp who has arrived in the room quietly.
"I want airtime," he says as he slings the gun over his shoulder.
"Everyone wants airtime, buddy. Weíre a nation of television-worshipping freaks. Why should you be any different?"
"Because I have a gun."
"Hardly different. Shit, half the fucking high schoolers in the nation carry an illegal handgun."
"I have a gun and Iíll use it on her." He flicks it toward Kelsey.
"Youíll only have one try. And you better pop me first. Because, I swear to God, if you even think about hurting her, Iíll kill you."
"I want airtime," he repeats.
"Well, get my gear and weíll see what we can work out in exchange."
"Exchange? Exchange for what? Iím holding all the cards here."
"Really? Can you run my camera?"
He shuffles for a second then orders one of his flunkies to get my gear. "Exchange for what?"
I jerk my thumb over my shoulder. "Let her go. Iíll stay and run the camera. Sheís just a reporter. If all you want to do is run your mouth, you donít need her."
"Weíll talk about it," Scamp grumbles before pulling the door shut. As it closes, I hear him mumble something that really sounds like Ďfeminist bitchí.
I turn to Kels and grin. "Wonder how heíd feel if I called him a gun-toting, Nazi son of a bitch!" I lift my voice for the last five words.
I watch as Kels sits up and takes a deep breath before she turns to me. "Iím not."
"Youíre not what?"
"Leaving you in here by yourself."
"Kels, letís be rationale about this."
"Donít argue with me, Harper. Iím not leaving you and you can live with it. We have a story to tell here. And weíre going to tell it together."
I shake my head a bit. She does manage to pull it together when the chips start falling. I do admire that quality. And her breasts. I like them too.
She stands, crossing to the window. "The light and the larger room help. Iíll be okay."
"Kelsey, donít be difficultÖ"
She spins around to look at me with a little smile on her face. "Hey, Iím the Talent here. Being difficult is in my contract." Her grin widens a little as she steps forward and runs her hand up the front of my denim shirt from my waist to shoulder, right along the seam of buttons. "Wouldnít want me to do anything to jeopardize my contract, now would you?"
In so many ways, on so many levels, Kels. You have no idea. "Uh, no," I manage to lie.
"Didnít think so," she pauses as she looks to me, "partner."
I smile and nod. I believe, for the first time, she really means it when she calls me her partner. Now all we gotta do is work out that Ďnot in a sexual senseí detail.
"Okay, partner," I clear my throat a little as I take her hand from my shoulder. God, her hands are soft. "I wonít ask you to do something you donít want to do." Okay, now that is a bit of a stretch. I would, but itíd be in the bedroom and involve a blindfold and a feather. Besides, I think sheíd like that anyhow.
The door opens and two of Head Nimrodís Junior Nimrods bring my gear in. Christ, boys, I haul all this shit myself. Whatís the matter with you? I want to say it out loud, but that might actually entice them to fuck the gear up. And I donít want to do that. Chambers will have my ass for Kelsey being held hostage as it is. If I come back with even a scratch on the equipment, heíll piss himself for sure.
As Iím going through my gear, several things occur to me. Iím going to need fresh batteries from the van, and by this request, Scamp is giving the police a direct line into the compound. As I kneel by my gear, Kels joins me.
"Anything I can do?"
Short of getting naked and letting me cover your body with mine? Instead, I say, "Yeah, dig all my batteries out of my pack, will you?" I slide the bag over as I give the Betacam a good going over.
"Well, well, look at what I found." She is laughing at me as she holds up my secret stash of Twinkies.
I snatch the package and toss it to the bed, grumbling good-naturedly. "Great for a quick energy rush," I explain. "Besides, I enjoy licking the cream out with my tongue."
I knew that would get a groan. She doesnít disappoint.
I decide to have mercy on her and distract her. "Tell me the story here, Kels."
She sits back on her heels, and considers my request. I watch as she silently runs through a few leads. Finally, she says, "How about this. ĎThe public image of "cults" is one of mind-control, occasional violence and social irresponsibility. But thatís just one part of the story. We came to Omaha, Nebraska, to look at a different kind of cult, one that calls itself the Chosen Family.í What do you think, Tabloid?
"No, but we could use that for the sidebar lead. First we have to report the takeover and Samís shooting. I sure hope that Olson got good footage at the gate. If not, Iím gonna whip his orange-haired ass."
Kels chuckles, "He has orange hair on his ass?"
I scowl, but she is unaffected. "You know what I meant. Now, try again."
She salutes, "Yes, sir!" Once again, she concentrates for a long moment. "Howís this for the teaser: ĎViolence and death erupted today in a quiet community that was originally created to provide a safe haven for the abused and abandoned of our society. KNBC was on the scene when social consciousness confronted social violence. The result of that confrontation is our Exposure feature for the evening.í"
"Good." I like it, a lot. "And with any luck, not that weíve experienced a helluva lot so far, the random footage I got from either the micro cam or the beta will support it. Now, what do you want for the lead?" Itís nice to see her relaxed again. Sheís in her element now, telling the story. Give the woman a little space, a little light, and a breaking news story and sheís just fine. I idly wonder how many of our competitors are camped out there alongside the National Guard. Wonder what type of odds theyíre giving us. Olson better be smart enough to put down some money for me.
Kelsí voice interrupts my thoughts. "íIn a quiet community outside of Omaha, Nebraska, created to provide a sanctuary for those who were cast out, abused and abandoned by society, the very violence that the founders of "The Chosen Family" tried to escape emerged today with tragic results. Exposure came here to look at a different kind of cult, one created to protect people from the violence and hatred that plagues our society today. But a small faction of dissatisfied residents staged a violent coup, killing founder Sam Stevenson right in front of Exposureís cameras.í"
"If it bleeds, it leads," I reply. "Nice."
The door opens and Scamp is staring down at us again. I get to my feet and help Kels up as well. No way in hell are we going to be on our knees in front of this son of a bitch. Kelsey takes her customary position, right next to me. You know, I kinda like that.
"Feeling better, blondie?"
"Itís Ms. Stanton to you, jerk off," she growls. Guess she has decided to join me in our little game of defiance. Work does wonders for her disposition.
"Iíll take that as a yes." He looks to me. "You give us airtime and your little friend can go."
"Iím staying," Kels responds immediately. "Weíre a team. We came in together and weíll leave together."
I nod toward the door. "If you still want airtime, Iím going to need gear from the van. Fresh tapes and batteries."
"One of my men will walk you out." He swings the barrel of the gun at Kels. "She stays here to make sure you donít do anything stupid."
Bringing her here was stupid. Iím going to find my friend at the bar and beat the ever-loviní hell out of him when we get home.
Kelsey doesnít say anything. She simply bends at the waist and retrieves my backpack, thrusting it into my hands. "Hurry back, Tabloid. Iíll be practicing the lead while youíre gone."
"As quick as I can, Little Roo, as quick as I can."
If we didnít have an audience, Iíd kiss her again. Instead, I have to settle for a wink and a smile. This makes me think of the Harry Connick Jr. song of the same title. Wish we were in the Big Easy listening to Harry croon right now. Then Iíd show her why we gave New Orleans that quaint little nickname.
I turn and leave the room. When I hear the door close and lock behind me, my throat and heart drop right into my stomach like a rock. I hate leaving her behind.
<to be continued>
Scenes from next weekís Must Read TV:
The only thing that is keeping me from killing him right now is the fact that I know Iíll get shot and Kels will never get out alive.
I glance back over my shoulder to see how stupid he looks. Okay, it might work. "You might want to stay here."
"Microwaves are bad for your Ö ummÖ performance abilities, if you know what I mean."
The look of horror on his face makes it clear that he does. "What about the guy in the van?"
"Oh, thatís why we hired him for the job. He canít get it up anyhow. Bicycle accident as a kid." I shrug, as if itís no big deal. I hope to hell Olson doesnít have a directional mike on me; otherwise, heís gonna be pissed.
"Go ahead." He takes an extra step away from the van. Canít be too careful, you know.
Jesus, thereís nothing more dangerous than a moron with a gun.
© 1999 Exposure Productions.All rights reserved. The Content is protected in the U.S. and internationally by a variety of laws, including but not limited to, copyright laws and treaty provisions, and other proprietary rights laws.
You are hereby granted permission to receive a copy of the Content from the mailing list in whole or in part, (and, except where otherwise specified or provided by Exposure Productions, print a single copy of the Content for your own personal use) but only for purposes of viewing and browsing through the Content. You are also hereby granted permission to store the files on your computer for your own personal use. All other use of Content from the mailing list, including, but not limited to modification, publication, transmission, participation in the transfer or sale of, reproduction, creation of derivative works from, distribution, performance, display, incorporation into another web site, reproducing the Content (whether by linking, framing or any other method), or in any other way exploiting any of the Content, in whole or in part, for uses other than those expressly permitted may not be made without Exposure Productionsí prior express written consent.
Return to The Bard's Corner