(OOC: Continued from Looking For Trouble)

IC:
The raid was going off without a hitch and even though teams had gone in both the front and back entrances, a few members were left around the perimeter of the party warehouse to maintain security. From instead the music continued to pound away but instead of the shouts of people enjoying the party there were now the indignant yells of people being accosted by armed S.W.A.T. members. Officer Sanders was station near the back of the building, slowly moving up and down the line while keeping his eyes open for anyone that might slip through the drag net. Suddenly, with a cracking and crumbling noise, a large section of wall exploded outward filing the air with masonry dust and misty spray from the broken water pipes. Hefting his AR15A3 rifle he slowly moved toward the new hole with his senses on high alert. Tapping his mike, he sent out an alert that something was going on but for the moment he maintained silence.

***

Paul had known that Lori had the power of electricity but seeing what happened to wall he was momentarily stunned. How did that connect to electricity? In that brief second, his mind failed him and he simply filed the information away for later retrieval. He was confident he could understand it at a later time but for now they were getting ready to make their escape. The blond in question turned back toward him, apparently in control of the situation and yet not in control. "Carry me?" Her request seemed out of place compared to the power she had just demonstrated but if he was hearing it right it sounded like there was a touch of urgency in her voice, or maybe he was wrong.

Without a word Paul strode over and slipped one arm around the womans shoulders before bending to catch his other arm under her knees and lift her up in the classic carry position of a groom carrying his bride across the threshold. Of course, in this situation it was simply one acquaintance assisting another, but it was still the same carrying position.

"Nice to have met you Megan, hope your hangover isn't to bad." Paul offered to the dark haired woman that Lori was obviously planning on leaving behind. Turning back to the drywall, Paul walked toward it. For a brief moment he considered simply leaping through the drywall but since he didn't know exactly where the pipes were sticking out, he tossed out that idea. Instead he paused in front of the damp drywall and kicked several times, tearing off chunks of the softened material and sending it flying outside. Ducking through the hole, Paul immediately found himself standing in a fine rain like mist that quickly dampened his clothes, making his once comfortable clothes far less comfortable.

"NYPD! Don't move!"

Cursing under his breath, Paul turned his gaze to focus on the figure that he could just barely make out in the low light. If he wasn't mistaken, there was a gun pointed in their direction by what he assumed was at least a slightly jumpy member of the police department. "Oh thank goodness!" Paul yelled, trying to sound relieved and thankful that he'd found someone outside, "You've got to get in there! There's this guy making water do all kinds of stuff! I thought we were gonna drown until that wall gave way!" Dropping his voice to a whisper, Paul addressed one last comment to Lori with his lips barely moving. "Any ideas?"

The best thing to do in this scenario was to totally lock down her power. Lori scrunched her eyes shut tight and imagined a fist inside of her chest. If she could keep every finger closed tightly then maybe nothing would get out. Only, introducing water to the situation made the contents of that hand want out. It fought to get out when usual it was content to just be.

She gripped that image tight and tried to ignore what was happening around them. She ignored the shift in weight as he kicked, the lifting and ducking of going through the opening and the stop.

Lori was sure that if she let even a single bit of power out, she wouldn't be able to stop it.

A sound interrupted her visualization. A confident man barked orders. Paul responded. She could tell even without opening her eyes that they were stopped and there happened to be a sizable chunk of metal leveled where no chunk of metal would be without help.

Did she have any brilliant ideas? No. Lori was too busy trying to keep her power contained in her skin so she didn't sizzle Paul's brains out. She had promised to try not to kill him again and without him, she would be in worse shape. "Run."

She loosened her grip on that power. Crackles of energy sizzled down her wet dress and arms and hair. They bit at Paul and his wet clothes where she touched him. But surely it was better than getting shot.

Lori'd just done this trick through a brick wall only this time, no wall. The metal piece, she quickly fed a charge that produced a magnetic field the same as her own. The more and the faster she stuffed the power into it, the faster the metal repelled away, straight back. If he was holding it anywhere near his face, it might have up and punched him. If he was holding it too loose, it would jerk out of his hands altogether.

But she'd done it now. She'd let the power see that there was a way out.

"The team inside can handle that situation. For now you both can just stand here and wait to get checked out." The officer responded with complete professionalism. As with most members of the elite squads, this man was well trained the the lies that Paul was throwing his way were not in the slightest way effective.

"Run."

Spoken softly but firmly, he knew that Lori had something up her sleeve. Of course, it could also be that she knew standard protocol said that the police could not shoot unarmed suspects even if they were fleeing the scene of an incident. For the briefest moment Paul continued to stand there, and then he rocked forward onto the balls of his feet and pivoted to the right. Tightening his grip on Lori so that she wasn't bouncing all over the place and throwing off his balance, he increased his pace to a dead run in a matter of moments. It was something that would have winded most people in just a few minutes but for Paul this was a normal evening and night activity.

"Stop!" He heard the office behind them shout though he didn't bother to look back. He was to focused on running... running and the sharp shocks and bites of pain that were hitting him along his arms and chest. Sparing a glance downward, he watched the sizzle of power leaping back and forth from wet clothes and wet flesh.

"Stop or I'll, ugh!" The yelling ended abruptly with the sound of something hard and plasticy colliding with something hard and fleshy. Though Paul didn't know it, Lori's gambit with the rifle had shoved it right into the face of the black garbed individual and rendered him unconscious.

As they approached the edge of the lot, a gun shot rang out and dirt kicked up around Paul's feet. Apparently other members of the police department had been notified and someone had decided to give them a warning shot. "Lovely." Paul muttered under his breath as he tried to glance around the area for options while continuing at the same pace. Sure his power was great for protecting himself but it would do absolutely no good for his blond running partner. Nothing seemed promising until Paul realized that there were cars and trucks parked all up and down the street. He had walked but apparently plenty of other people had driven to this little gathering. For a brief moment Paul considered a black Camaro that was parked only two cars away but then shook the idea off. For that they'd have to bust out a window and then both scramble in and hot-wire it before the police could get them. To much time. The better option was the hot pink jeep that was parked only five cars away. It would be much easier access which mean far less time. Now if they could just get to it!

She heard the shot and her next words came through clenched teeth. "I can't stop bullets." Yeah, they were metal, but that was too much momentum. Moving too fast. She had to take time to get the increments right in order to deflect something. All the power in the world wouldn't make up for a lack of control.

"Put me down." Electricity leaked out all over the place. She could hold a lot more charge now than she used to, so she wasn't getting tired yet. She was more worried that more and more might be getting through her defenses. "Paul."

Maybe her voice tipped him off, but one moment he was cradling her, the next she was back on her high heels. And still the energy arched. She couldn't make it do that if she was trying. It was so unfair that it did it now. It made her the easiest target ever, a sparking light in the dark.

Lori breathed and opened her eyes. That fist inside of her was clenched, but it was like trying to hold onto air or water or sand. Little bits found their ways out.

She needed to get dry.

So she could take her dress off, or she could let her energy loose until she fried away all the moisture. Neither was an ideal choice.

The street blazed brilliantly white with shadows of blue as street lamps blazed brighter before their bulbs shattered, cars shifted and groaned and leaned up on two wheels just to be closer to her. Lori let go. She didn't try to control it she just tried to feed it.

Sizzle, sizzle pop.

"I never thought you could." Paul responded crisply to her comment about bullets. He hadn't had time to make the connection between her electric abilities and the power of magnetism so the idea of her stopping bullets hadn't even crossed his mind. That's why he ran with her held tight against his chest, shielding her with his own body. He could come back from the dead... she couldn't.

"Put me down. Paul."

Something about the way she said it... something, he wasn't quite sure what but something told him it would be a good idea to do as she said. Slowing down as quickly as possible Paul paused long enough to deposit Lori back on her feet and then took off toward the jeep he had spotted moments before. Lori's tone of voice and the crackling energy around her body had given him the hint that standing right next to her probably wouldn't be a good idea. Reaching the jeep he lept over the door and landed in the seat rather hard. "They should really cushion these things better." Paul muttered under his breath as he reached under the dash to find the two wires he needed to get this thing started.

For someone of Paul's experience it should have been the work of only a few moments. Strip the casing off of the wires, tap them against each other and start the engine, simple. Unfortunately nothing even seemed the go the way it was supposed to here in New York City. First the street lamps blazed brightly and then blew out, throwing the street into darkness. Then he heard metal groaning and actually felt the vehicle he was in beginning to shift and shake, actually sliding half an inch or so across the ground. "What the..." He muttered as he glanced up only to be caught in amazement by the sight he was seeing. In the spot where he had left Lori was a person glowing and sizzling with a blue energy that just grew brighter and brighter. It was hard to look directly at her but far from impossible.

He murmured a curse with just a touch of admiration before turning his attention back to the vehicle. A moment later the engine roared to life and he sat up, shifting the vehicle into reverse. Most men wouldn't be caught dead in a hot pink jeep but thankfully Paul was very strong in his masculinity. "Though a shot of whiskey when this is all over wouldn't be a bad thing." He mused to himself as he touched the accelerator and maneuver into the middle of the street. Going a little faster he made his way down to try to come parallel with Lori though he had to stop before he actually got there. Something about her was actually pulling at the vehicle and so he had to maintain just the right distance and angle so that it didn't go out of control or get pulled over onto its side.

"Lori! Power down and hop in! Let's get out of here!"

For the moment it seemed like the gun fire had ceased. Maybe they were taking the time to reload, maybe they were awaiting instructions from their supervisors, or maybe they were just in awe from the light show. Whatever the reason, they had a some time... at least a little.

Power down? The nearest lamp pole was cruuuuumpling its way down to her with a wail of a metallic screech. Why would she ever power down? For once, it was good to just, let go. It was like being with an adapted. Only now she felt capable of taking on the world instead of curling up and hiding from it.

A distant sound, like the cork of a champagne bottle being popped echoed down between the buildings.

They were aiming for her head, but her well of energy was centered in her chest. Without anything holding the power back it drew anything and everything down toward her center.

The light show shut off and the street went dark except for the headlights of the hot pink jeep.

She couldn't see a thing, she'd been wreathed in light and he eyes were night blind without having time to adjust. And her dress was still wet, mostly around the neck. She coughed wetly and reached for the closest part of the jeep she could find which happened to be the back seat.

Lori got in and laid down.

She didn't feel like conquering anything anymore.

The sound of a gunshot was mostly covered by the sound of screaming metal but Paul missed it as his focus was on the living light show. For a moment it seemed like she hadn't heard it but then it all just stopped. The lights shut off, the vehicles settled firmly back on their tires and the street was filled with a fearful silence. Most people wouldn't know how to handle what they had seen. That sort of raw power was only in the imagination not in physical manifestation, or at least it wasn't supposed to be.

"And we're out of here." Paul said as Lori climbed into the back and simply stretched out on the seat. Shifting into drive Paul shoved down the accelerator and with a squeal of rubber he rocketed down the street. As soon as he could he turned, and then turned again, and then yet again. Once he felt relatively comfortable that they were clear of S.W.A.T. he slowed down to the legal speed limit and tried to decide what to do next. Obviously they needed to get off the street and really they needed to ditch the jeep and swap to something else before going anywhere. A hot pink jeep wasn't the best vehicle for blending in.

"We need to find better transportation." He said without looking back as he turned onto yet another street and started scanning the vehicles that were parked along it, "Nice work on that wall earlier. Sometime you'll have to tell me how you..." His voice trailed off as he glanced over his shoulder to look at the woman. She was still prone on the seat and as they passed under a street lamp the damp red stain on the side of her neck that was slowly expanding to the top of her dress became obvious. Swearing Paul jerked the wheel, actually pulling up onto the sidewalk before he put the vehicle in park. Not bothering to turn off the engine he simply turned around so that he was now kneeling in his seat in order to better see her and access the injury.

"Damn it Lori! You said you couldn't stop bullets! Why in the world did you make yourself such an easy target?" Pulling off his jacket, Paul grabbed the lining and ripped it out to make at least a wad of cloth that could be used to apply pressure to the wound. "Keep pressure on that neck. I'm gonna grab another vehicle and then we're heading to my apartment. It's closer than the sanctuary. Wait here." Once he was sure that Lori had the makeshift bandage firmly in hand he climbed out of the jeep and began to jog down the street. Now he just had to pick a vehicle.

She panted uncontrolled in the back seat as he swerved around. Lori was hurt, but she'd had so much worse. It was almost nice, in a way. The shock of it had shut down her power when she hadn't had it in her to cram it all back in. Sometimes the charge she carried around was like a string of multi-colored handkerchiefs. Once the show was over even the clown regrets having to stuff them all back in. It just never fits the same.

And once he'd noticed she was hurt, he was mad at her. It made her laugh and she wasn't even sure why.

"Doesn't always work the way you want it to." He gave her some cloth, she half heartedly applied it. She was sweating now and it hurt more to touch it than to not. It would clot on its own. Eventually. Maybe.

They swapped out the hot pink jeep for something sleek and sexy and silver. Lori took the front passenger seat this time, but leaned back into the bucket seat. Sleep was such a seductive idea right now. She didn't even want to think about her power. It was locked down and waiting, weighted down by the sweats and chills brought on by the pain in her neck.

She hardly noticed when they arrived. Couldn't she just sleep it off in the car?

Lori's laughter about being hurt didn't do anything to appease Paul, in fact it even made him just a little more ticked off though he did his best not to let her see it. Instead he had gone off and found a slick silver Ford GT and brought it back to pick up the blond. In just a matter of moments he had deposited her in the passenger seat and then turned his focus to the jeep they were leaving behind. It was regretful but necessary that there would be no finger prints or DNA evidence so he had taken the time to siphon out some gas, pour it over the seats and then set them on fire. As they drove off he could see the vehicle beginning to burn in the rear view mirror.

As much as Paul wanted to push this sweet ride to its limits he had forced himself to abide by all traffic laws until he was able to park the car just down the street from his apartment. After wiping down the steering wheel and the door handles with what was left of his jacket it was time to get up to his apartment. "Come on Lori... lean on me so we can get upstairs." Paul's voice was crisp and the words almost came out like an order but at the moment he didn't care. He didn't need Lori to go bleeding to death now, especially while he was still trying to figure out whether she was worth supporting or not.

After walking past the entrance to the darkened pastry shop, Paul helped Lori make her way up the exterior stairs and through the main door into a hallway with two doors. One of the doors led into the apartment that the owners of the pastry shop lived in and the other was the entrance into Paul's chamber of secrets. Pausing for a moment to fish out his keys he unlocked the door and flipped on the light as they walked in.

The apartment was a shotgun style room with a tiny kitchen off to the left, a small living room, and a single door of the right that apparently led to the bedroom and bathroom. The room was also relatively sparse. As someone that died over and over again and burned up anything nearby when he was reborn, Paul had come to limit the personal items that he carried. There were no pictures of people anywhere in the apartment. Instead there were two or three tasteful pieces of art depicting New York City at different times of the day. A comfortable looking sage color couch was up against the far wall facing the average sized TV that was actually right next to the entry door. A small coffee table sat in front of the couch and next to the couch was a slightly worn looking gray recliner.

"Lay down on the couch while I get a first aid kit so we can clean up your neck." Paul said as he steered Lori toward the couch and then released his grip so he could turn toward the bedroom door, "If I'd known I was gonna bring you here I'd have picked up some croissants or something."

Paul was careful with the details. She liked that. She also had a fondness for the fire show. Ah the cleansing power of fire.

He was tender and scathing all at the same time. She leaned on him but only because she'd refused to be carried. Yeah, the heels were hell when her legs were wobbly. No, it was still better to be on her own feet. Lori only asked to be carried when it couldn't be avoided.

And it felt so ridiculous that he felt the need to be domestic and offer her croissants. The room was freaking tiny. And Lori was almost certain that she'd seen that couch laying out on the corner of 15th and Classen at some point. Maybe it wasn't the same one. But she had her suspicions.

He told her to lay down, but she was still damp. She also wasn't getting her dress over her head on her own with her neck like this. She knew it would affect her arm movement before she even tried so she didn't. She stood on her feet and looked at the couch, those rags of jacket still held up to her neck.

"It's very important I get a change of dry clothes before I start feeling better." Yes. That was civilized. She could be civil. "Also, two pair of socks?" Two pair was enough to insulate her from the ground so she could ditch the heels.

Okay. She ended up sitting on the couch after all. Standing that long just wasn't working out for her.

And leaning back into the cushions was alright.

She would just rest her eyes. For a little bit.

"Dry clothes and socks... I'll see what I can do." Paul called over his shoulder as he strode into the bedroom. He had no steady girl friend and he wasn't in the habit of bringing women back to his apartment. Even on the rare occasion that he felt the need for a little female companionship he would choose a high class hotel of his apartment. This was his home, his private domain, not a place he was willing to share with just anyone. Unfortunately the situation with Lori had forced him to make a choice he hadn't necessarily been prepared for.

"First aid kit, shirt, shorts, and thick socks." He murmured to himself as he picked up the items one by one. The first aid kit was easily found in the sparse bathroom. It was under the sink with a few cleaning products and a single set of extra towels. The clothes were a little more difficult. Everything Paul had would be extremely big on Lori's petite frame but anything was better than nothing so he settled on a pair of black gym shorts that had a draw string for adjusting the waist and a dark blue New York Knicks t-shirt and a two pairs of white athletic socks. "Underwear is her own issue."

Walking back into the living room, Paul found Lori settled quite comfortably into the cushions of his couch. Pausing for a moment he watching her relaxed breathing, not above appreciating the sight of an attractive woman even if she did have blood on the side of her neck, and then moved forward, sitting down on the couch cushion right next to her. "Clothes and first aid. Which one first?" If she decided to change first then he would be glad to let her use the bathroom or he could simply turn around but there was no way in hell he was going to be dismissed from his own apartment and own living room.

The couch moved and Lori jerked awake with a spark. And a curse. She grabbed her neck and doubled forward to the tune of a steady string of obscenities.
 
"Clothes." Was tossed in there somewhere. And when Paul made the pile of clothes known to her she stopped cursing and tried to just breathe through it while she focused on swapping her heels for the socks while only using the one hand not on her neck. First one pair, then the other. She never let her feet touch the floor until they were securely insulated. 
 
When she got the guts to sit up again, her hand came away bloody and sparking. Guess the insulation of shock was wearing thin. Lori wiped her hand onto her damp dress. The sparks quit jumping once her skin wasn't dripping red, but the whole thing was like a weight. Pain, under the right circumstances could be enjoyed. Without anything to make it better, it just plain effing hurt. 
 
This was one of those, it just plain hurt kind of situations.
 
Without pre-empt Lori grabbed the shirt. He could stay or go, it was his apartment after all, but the dress was coming off. The cloth sucked at her skin and a miniature lightning storm lit the fabric from behind as the two parted. The worst was getting it over her head while using only one arm. She was lucky the arm holes were large otherwise she wouldn't have been able to hold onto her wound while she shimmied out of the wet cloth. 
 
The cut of the dress did not permit all the usual undergarments, but it was hard to tell if anything beyond the goosebumps marching along her skin bothered Lori. She and Paul were not in that kind off relationship. Otherwise she might have bothered to try and look cool instead of just hurt.
 
The dry shirt was a million times warmer and, though harder to get on, it was big enough that nothing touched her neck. She yanked the neck hole to one side so that it rested on her shoulder. Maybe, just maybe she could avoid getting this one soaked.
 
Exhausted, she shimmied the shorts on without bothering to stand up.
 
Much better. The cotton almost felt like it was radiating warmth after that dress and being warm would help her keep some of the charge in.
 
"Some party." Lori sounded tired as she held out her bloodied hand. She didn't seem to know what to do with it now that she wasn't wearing something that made for an easy napkin. Also, there was less blood on it this time. Or more sparks jumping between her fingers. She wasn't sure which.

Clothes were chosen as the way to begin so Paul settled back to patiently wait. The socks were the work of only a few moments but when Lori pulled her hand away from her neck the first problem became obvious. The amount of blood on her hand was making it spark and sizzle, a reminder of the few times Paul had attempted minor electrical repairs over the years. He had eventually learned how to handle things like outlets and switches but he had gained a very serious respect for the power of arcing and sparking electricity.

For Lori it was obviously old hat because she wiped her hand on her dress until the issue was taken care of and then moved on to removing her clothing. There were no words spoken to him and the way she was going about it was almost as if he didn't even exist. Was she just a little out of it from the pain, did she really not consider him as someone to be embarrassed in front of, or was she simply that secure about her own body and sexuality. Those were interesting questions to ponder but Paul wasn't out to enjoy any sort of peep show. He was at least something of a gentleman with a standard of sorts so after enjoying the briefest glance at toned legs and supple torso he busies himself with the first aid kit. Bottles of alcohol and hydrogen peroxide had to be opened, alcohol wipes had to be readied, and bandages had to be treated with antibiotic ointment.

Once he was sure that Lori was back in a state that most people would call 'decent' he raised his eyes to look at the weary young woman. "Yeah... some party." He responded with a slight smile as he grabbed a few wipes and took a moment to clean the blood off her hand. "The first few minutes were actually a little enjoyable but I could have done without the whole after party."

Turning his attention back up to her neck he noticed it was already clotting up. That was good because it slowed down the blood loss but unfortunately he was going to have to remove the clotted section in order to fully cleanse. "So do you always spark up like that from moisture? That must make bathing a real hassle." The comments were all at once boring conversation to distract her from the pain while he worked while at the same time information gathering for himself. It probably seemed like an eternity for her for it was really only five or ten minutes to clean the area with alcohol, clean the wound with hydrogen peroxide, and then apply the bandage with the antibiotic ointment that would promote healing and deter infection. Thankfully it was more of a graze than a real wound so the damage had been minimal though it had been quite the bleeder.

"Do you need some tylenol or something for the pain?" Paul asked as he slowly ran his fingers around the edge of the bandage to make sure it was seeled completely, "And is there anyone I should call to notify where you are? Hopefully I don't have to worry about a jealous boyfriend coming to have words with me."

Had she had fun at the party? Not really. She hadn't seen the sting coming and that made her a very unhappy lady. Flexing her mutational muscles to bully her way out of a tight spot was one thing, walking (or being carried) through a water spray was quite another. If there was one thing she hated, it was feeling helpless.

"Not every ability is all immortality and—" She hissed when he pulled the clot up but clenched her teeth and continued. "—happy fun times." Lori stubbornly shut her eyes, gripped the cloth of the couch and willed herself not to make another pain noise unless she thought he was deliberately trying to kill her.

"Do I always spark up like that? Yeah. Does it make bathing an issue? Not when you know the right people." It was clear from her tone that this topic was not up for discussion.

And once the cleaning was done, the salve or ointment or whatever wasn't bad at all. He touched her gently and that more than anything else made her want to sleep or cry or something she would probably regret. She had to stay cynical and hard if she was going to stay together.

"Yes, no and no." She glared at nothing in particular as she touched the bandage to check his work. As if she could tell what was what when she couldn't even see it. As far as Lisa knew tonight went off without a hitch and Lori had found someone to 'congratulate' with.

No one beyond Lisa really knew when she would come and go from Faust Pharmaceuticals or the Sanctuary. She should probably change that some day… As for the jealous boyfriend thing, if the people in her life couldn't learn to share, then they did not stay in her life.

Lori leaned over to grab up her heels. The dress could burst into flames for all she cared. She wiped a thin layer of sweat from her upper lip and forehead, a tell tale sign of someone in pain and tried to tie her still damp hair back from her face… and then tried again only using one hand.

It was probably time to go to bed. Paul was making all the signs and that meant she should leave, right? She could make it there in just socks so long as the subway was still running.

All immortality and happy fun times... yeah. Resurrecting from the dead definitely had its perks but obviously Lori had no idea about the costs associated with it. There were the deaths of friends and loves ones and never being able to escape the pain of this life through the embrace of death's welcoming arms. "Happy fun times." He muttered wryly as he moved to pack up the first aid kit. Yeah, fun times.

Rising from the couch, Paul walked into the kitchen and laid the first aid kit on the counter. After filling two glasses halfway with water he grabbed a bottle of Tylenol and walked back into the living room. Setting down one of the glasses and the pain killers on the coffee table in front of her, Paul sat down on the couch himself and watched her for a few moments while he sipped at his own beverage. The pain was obvious from her body language and the beads of sweat but so was the tiredness. She had practically fallen asleep in the car and had been doing even better at it on the couch before he walked back in to clean her up.

"You're gonna sleep here tonight. At least for a few hours." Paul said decisively in a tone of voice that made it clear he wanted no argument though he was really expecting one, "The couch is comfortable and you're in no condition to get home. If you wake up in the middle of the night and want to leave then go ahead... the door will lock behind you. But you need to rest before you try to get back to the Sanctuary."

There no invitations to share the bed and there was most definitely not what many would consider the gentlemanly offer of giving her his bed while sleeping on the couch himself. No, their relationship had some friendliness to it but there were no signs from her of wanting anything more and he wasn't one to push. Besides, they were both tired from having to fight their way out of the party. "Don't be stubborn Lori." Paul said quietly as he stood back up to his feet, "I know you're tough enough to fight off the sleep until you made it back to the Sanctuary but its better this way. I won't be hurt if you're gone in the morning without saying goodbye."