Lloyd's eyes met Jane's and she felt cold crawl up from her spine and try to escape out her mouth. Jane wasn't a screamer so it never got past her throat. He pointed at her her and her heart did a flipflop in her chest. This was sick. And wrong. She grabbed at the material above her heart as if she could catch the muscle in her hand to calm it down. Cold sweats, hot skin. She was running on fear, a mood leveling cocktail and adrenaline. That was not a sustainable lifestyle.

Lucas pulled them back into the kitchen. A slosh of hot soup was actually flung at them as they dodged past, the ladle falling just short of their heels. Back out into the alley, The pair nearly barreled right into John Smith who had his gun and pack slung over his shoulder.

"Run." They were already.

John was halfway between getting his gun out to shoot at them and running himself when the two orderlies burst from the back of the Chinese Restaurant. They did run into John, well at least one did. He wrestled with the gun in John's hand and slugged the healer so hard that his foil hat flew off. That was the last Jane saw before they rounded the corner out onto the main thoroughfare sidewalk.

The other orderly was right on their heels. Jane pressed her hand over her heart. It was chugging too slowly. Or too fast. She couldn't tell. "I wish I had my gun." She stopped short again, Lucas' momentum nearly yanked her arm off. She... she used guns. On people. Her eyes shook at the pavement but there was no mind in the concrete that would help her forget what she was remembering. She was wishing these men were dead. That she could have shot them. She... she was a bad guy.

The goatee'd man slowed and smiled as he caught up. "Giving up already? Lloyd will be disappointed. He enjoys a good—" His words cut off as he dodged a sluggish punch from Jane. He countered with a quick jab to her gut that had her doubling over. She thought breakfast might come back.

But Jane wasn't the only one on that sidewalk.

When Noel stopped running and slipped from his hand, Lucas turned just in time to watch it happen. The bald man with the goatee had smiled while he punched Noel in the stomach. She fell to the ground, doubled over in pain. Lucas watched her drop to her knees, clutching her gut with her arms, unable to save her once again.

All Lucas wanted was to help Noel like she had helped him. These people couldn’t let it go. This hospital and their staff were destroying everything in their path so they could hold onto Noel and Lucas had had enough. He caught the orderly’s eyes and held them fast by force of will alone.

“You’re dead.” Lucas promised as his face contorted in Rage.

Anger fueled him as the fighter stepped in without hesitation. The thought of destroying the man with the goatee was all that registered in his mind. Lucas had been training for many years to be a boxer. It was a sport that was considered almost gentlemanly with its strict rules on proper etiquette. Despite the inherent violence, it was more about skill and mutual respect than the showmanship that can be found on ‘HBO Fight Night’ every Friday. Any protection the goon may have gained from the long history of boxing went out the window the moment he hit Noel.

The left hook connected squarely on the side of the bald man’s kidney and he bent like a sapling in the wind. As his head went down, it met with a powerful uppercut, lifting him back up onto the heels of his feet. The white clothed man staggered backwards, desperately trying to regain his footing but Lucas followed closely, not letting him recover. Punches flew out, seemingly from all directions. The orderly tried to protect himself with his arms but it was useless. Every time he turned, he was met with another vicious series of blows from a new direction.

The battered man tried to fall to the ground and submit but before he could make it to the safety of the side walk, he felt an iron like grip take hold of him by the bicep and pull him back up to stand, only to let go and continue to pound him mercilessly once again. The world began to swim and the ringing in his ears started to become distant when the punishment suddenly stopped. He teetered on his feet, amazed he was still standing through the ordeal. Shaking his head, he opened his eyes as wide as he could through swollen lids to see the mutant standing before him with his fists clenched and dripping, what he assumed, was his blood. There were several gaps in his smile now where teeth used to be and he was acutely aware of places that hurt across his body that he never knew existed until now.

“I’m sorry” he mumbled through his cracked and inflated lip.

“But not for the right reasons.” Lucas growled back, throwing a final punch that sent the man tumbling into unconsciousness.

The battered mess slammed into the cement like a bag of meat and Lucas looked up to see Lloyd coming through the restaurant door farther down the alley. He sniffed the air once and the pale skinned tentacles slithered back out of his sleeves as the strange mutant turned to face Lucas.

“Done running already?” he asked him.

Whipping one of his appendages outward, he slapped the blond orderly and John, throwing them against a nearby wall. The slimy goo that coated them, solidified near instantly and stuck them to the surface, trapped like some warped piece of modern art.

“Disappointing.” Lloyd clucked as he shook his head in mock pity.

Lucas didn’t bother to answer him. He bolted forward to close the gap so he could get his hands on the man instead. He wasn’t fast enough. The whip like tentacles snaked out and wrapped around his body, pinning his arms to his side and soaking his torso with sludge. The substance began to harden almost instantly but that was not the only danger. The liquid had other properties. Lucas felt the skin where he had been gripped begin to turn cold until all feeling left the area. His arms were paralyzed in seconds, refusing to respond to his commands to fight for freedom.

Pulling him in close, Lloyd prepared to gloat over his victory.

“I’ve been doing this a long time.” He said. “Don’t feel bad, you didn’t really stand a chance.”

Looking over Lucas’ shoulder, the buck toothed man noticed Noel regaining herself and getting back to her feet. He looked back into Lucas’ eyes and smiled evilly as he brought him close. “I hope she runs. She smells delicious and I am really enjoying hunting her.”

Lucas pulled his head back and drove it forward into the other man’s face before Lloyd could realize what was happening. The paralysis had never reached Lucas’ neck. He felt the crunch against his forehead as both the glasses and Lloyd's nose shattered from the impact. The tentacles loosened and dropped the young man to his feet as Lloyd fell backwards, clutching his face and moaning with surprise and pain. It was easy to wrap a leg behind him while he was stunned and drop him to his back. The snake like appendages flopped around on the ground like fishes on a dock, leaving crystallized resin splotches about the alley floor.

Lucas lifted his foot above the prone man and held it there for a moment. “What can you smell now Squidward?” Lucas asked just before he brought his heel crashing down.

She coughed and groped at the ground. Jane glanced up to see Lucas was being absolutely brutal, worse than she could remember seeing. She scanned around. People were looking. "Lucas. Lucas, stop." Her voice was hoarse with very little power behind it. He didn't hear her. He was absolutely crazy with anger.

Jane took her time standing up. Had she been a better person, she would have rushed ahead and stopped Lucas for delivering that last punch. Instead, she watched. She let it happen. She felt a slight bit of satisfaction, even.

All that satisfaction drained away when she saw Lloyd sauntering up. Jane dashed into the closest building. There had to be, somewhere on the walls... there!

"What are you-!"

It was obvious what she was doing once she put her foot through the glass of the fire safety box. Jane wanted the hatchet.

She scrambled back out onto the street with her hands behind her back. The movement caught Lloyd's eye and he said something that made Lucas turn red. And head butt Lloyd. Everything happened fast. She rushed forward and by the time she got there Lucas was smashing Lloyds' face with his heel. There was only one thing Jane wanted. Make that two.

She shouted a wordless and angry sound as the axe came down. A slimy tentacle separated from its arm. The second one soon followed with a sick squirting of numbing liquid. She let the hatchet droop and smoothed back her hair with a hand covered by a too long sleeve. The sleeve shook. "We should... we should call the police." Police would know what to do in this situation. They would take the bad people away. Even if it was Jane and Lucas.

"We should... we should call the police." Noel said with a shaky voice as she kneeled beside Lloyd’s unconscious body. The axe she had just used to sever the tentacles still dripped ichor and gore upon the ground as she gripped the handle with white knuckles. Lucas couldn’t help but wonder if there could possibly be a worse idea at that exact moment. Outside of the obvious, the fact that the first question a cop usually asked you was what your name was, it was probably best to get Noel as far away from here as possible. If Lucas didn’t get them going soon she would be back in the asylum within the hour, sucking down happy pills and having drooling contests with her roommates.

Looking around the alley, Lucas took in his surroundings, trying to formulate a plan. John and the blonde still hung on the wall, encased in resin. A crystallized substance identical to what currently housed Lucas’s arms. A small crowd had gathered around the man with the goatee’s body to gawk like commuters at a traffic accident. A woman was talking on her cell phone, giving nervous glances in the couple’s direction.

“Looks like someone already called them.” Lucas said when the woman turned away from his gaze. “We should probably get going. There are enough witnesses here to tell them what happened. They won’t need us.”

Walking to the wall beside John, Lucas started to bash his torso into the bricks. The resin cracked and shattered like glass, freeing his paralysed arms. With fresh air upon his arms now, the sensation was already starting to return in the form of small tiny pin pricks. It felt almost the same as when your foot falls asleep. They still didn’t work yet but at least it would be easier to blend in as they recovered. Lucas proceeded to put his shoulder into the wall mounted John and crack him free as well. John fell to the ground as if he didn’t have any bones in his body and lay there as helpless as an infant.

“Help me get him over my shoulder and we can drop him in a cab on the way.” Lucas said as he looked down at the paralysed man.

If eyes could express relief and gratitude, that is what John’s were doing.

Someone called them? "Good." She mumbled to herself and followed Lucas. So long as someone was going to call the police, then the police would come. She had the hatchet in her hand... and yet he threw himself at the crunchy armor. The pommel side wouldn't have cut anybody, but if Lucas wanted the bruises...

Jane tucked the hatchet under her arm and went to help heave John onto Lucas' shoulders like a big sack of potatoes. She even was gracious enough to remember his bags and gun. The feeling of the cold metal in her fingers eased some tension in her chest. She hugged it to her chest, under her jacket while Lucas called over a taxi.

Sirens sounded nearby and Jane glanced lazily down the street where red and blue splashed up against the building sides. John went in the taxi and then Lucas was shoving Jane in. He was lucky she didn't catch him with the hatchet on accident, the shove was so unexpected.

"Wait! We're not waiting for the police?"

Lucas came in next and told the cabbie to drive.

"Lucas!" She was in the middle. The best she could do was grab his shoulders, her hatchet abandoned next to John and the gun between them. "I don't want to be the bad guy."

"-sssdupid?" John's words were almost unrecognizable they were so slurry. He tried again. "Issshe stupid? She just cut off his hands!"

Jane didn't have anything to say about that.

Lucas tried to give John a meaningful look to express the precarious position a quadriplegic could be in if left on the curb in Brooklyn by himself. He might not have understood the thought word for word but he got the general idea and shut his mouth.

“Where to pal?” the cabby asked as he drove along the streets of Brooklyn.

It was a valid question. Where was there left to go? Any location Noel had put on her map was compromised. They had gotten lucky escaping the goon squad so far. He couldn’t count on their luck saving them again. That meant that Noel and Lucas would have to lay low somewhere that wouldn’t appear in her notes. Though he didn’t want to bring trouble to the man who had given him a place to stay, Lucas didn’t see another option.

“My friend is going to LaGuardia. You can drop us off somewhere near the Brooklyn bridge.” Lucas told the cab driver.

John might not want to go to New Jersey but it seemed a safe bet he would regain his ability to move and speak as he took the long drive to the airport. At least he had a minimum of eighty dollars in his pocket so he could afford the trip. Lucas’s fingers and arms had already regained most of their feeling and he could move them a little with effort now. The odds were good that John would be fully recovered before leaving Manhattan and could make his own decisions on where to go them.

Lucas turned his attention to Noel now, trying to think of how to explain the situation so as not to make things worse. She saw the world with such a black and white view. If only life could be that simple.

“Noel, we aren’t the bad guys.” He tried to explain. “There are enough witnesses to give an account of what happened. We have to let the police do their jobs. Don’t worry; I’m sure the bad men will get what they deserve.”

*****

Pressing send on his cell phone, Lloyd put the device to his ear and waited. It only rang once before a nervous sounding Doctor Peterson picked up the other end.

“Hello? Lloyd? Did you get her?” He asked, his anxiety showing through..

“Dey gowt away boz.” Lloyd answered simply.

Peterson became agitated when he heard the news. “What do you mean they got away? Track them you idiot! Why are you calling me if you didn’t get her?”

With a nasally voice, Lloyd tried to fill Peterson in on the important details. “I can’t twack dem. Dey bwoke my nose. Oh yah, Flowence and Jenkins are in an abuwance going to da hospitaw wight now awso. Can you tawk to the powice and tew dem to wet me go?”

Silence followed the request to be broken by a click and dial tone.

*****

Peterson stared at the phone nervously after hanging up. He chewed his nails out of reflex as the consequences of the day went through his head. He was going to have to call his boss to explain what had happened. It wasn’t a particularly appealing thought and he wondered if his employer would be more lenient with their underlings then he was.

Jane shoved Lucas' shoulders harder against his seat in disbelief. Letting the police do their job would take them to the hatchet and the rifle, both of which were in her possession currently. If she was going to be in trouble she would rather admit to it instead of getting caught red handed.

After a long, hard look at his brown eyes she confessed what she was thinking. "I don't know what I am." With that she let him go and plunked back into the middle of the cab in a decidedly bad mood. She shot a glare at John and John broke eye contact with her almost immediately.

With one hand she cuddled the gun closer compulsively. With the other, she scrubbed her eyes and trailed her cold fingers across her aching forehead. Jane had thought they were safe before. But she wasn't safe yet. That meant no sleep yet. Maybe not ever again. John would go to LaGuardia, wherever that was. Lucas would go to the Brooklyn Bridge and she would… follow? Jane didn't have anyone else to put her trust in right now and absolutely no idea what place would be better. Maybe a church? If he didn't want her to turn herself in to the police that was the only sanctuary she could think of.

Lucas was her yellow man… probably. She thought so anyway and that meant that she would follow him. For now. She almost wished she could have gone with John. Jane didn't trust herself right now and she might forget that. Keeping someone around who also didn't trust her would have made it easier to stay good.

As it turned out, the Brooklyn Bridge wasn't too far a drive. A little extra navigational help from the young man next to Jane and the vehicle stopped precisely where Lucas wanted it to. She hafted her hatchet and kept a close hug on the gun. John protested. Jane shut the door on him.

Lucas pulled out the crumpled tin foil hat and tossed it through the open window to land on John’s lap. “Take care of yourself.” He said just before the taxi drove off.

With John gone, Lucas was free to focus on his original goal of helping Noel. As long as a bus didn’t explode or flaming ninjas didn’t attack from the bushes, it would be easier now that it was just the two of them. He turned and got a chance to really look at her for the first time since the park that morning.

The blue patient issue pants were oversized and hung loosely on her frame, almost covering the Government Issue slippers she wore on her feet. Her hair had turned feral with the excitement of the day and her locks had taken on a life of its own. Lucas’ running sweater made Noel look tiny, like a girl wearing her father’s top. The barrel of John’s rifle stuck out from the neck of the sweater and the wooden stock from the bottom. The ensemble was not completed with a hand bag, but a hatchet covered in the strange paralytic mucous.

But she was still beautiful to him. He saw through the disheveled outer shell to the woman underneath. The childlike innocence shrouded by unwavering will power was still shining through. Despite the insane chaos of the day, she was still alert and ready to face wahter happened next. Those brown eyes that seemed to capture every detail seemed to be peering into his soul now. Her full lips, curling ever so slightly on the side thanks to her scar, were both teasing and inviting as the woman waited to follow his lead. She was oblivious to the hold she had on him. He didn’t quite understand it himself.

“So I thought I would take you back to my place and you can hang out there until we can think of what to do next.” Lucas said cheerfully, shaking his personal thoughts free and cramming them back down to a back shelf.

“We could walk along the harbor front until we get there. It isn’t far.” He added. “I understand that you might not know who you are and it is tough but maybe that’s a blessing. The past is overrated sometimes. Figuring out who you want to be might be a better way to go?”

Giving her his best friend smile, he decided to wrap up his sermon. It was already coming out to preachy and it would be best to quit while he was ahead. “Either way, you’re welcome to crash at my place as long as it takes for you to figure that out.”

Lucas didn’t know if Noel would ever figure out her past and it was a sad thought. He hadn’t grown up in the best of environments but it was what helped define who he was in the end. To not have that history as a reference would be difficult. With her memory problems compounding the issue, Noel would need support and time to get through this new chapter of her life. Lucas hoped he could be a constant and help her get there.

“Now what do you say we figure out a way to disassemble that rifle so you don’t look like some crazy guy in a bell tower with mommy issues?” he suggested.

Jane shook her head at his question. "We might need it." And besides, she wanted it. "Besides, maybe I have mommy issues." Not much of it was showing, anyway. (The gun not the mommy issues.) And she had a concealed carry license… maybe… The thought had come to mind that she did, anyway. In any case, she had her mind made up. And she had a gun.

A bone-weary sigh relieved some of her tension. "Was this anything like our first date?" Surely not, and if it was, for both their health's sake, they should really put off their third indefinitely. At this point, she was more in love with the idea of a shower and a bed to sleep in than anything else. Romance and freshly severed tentacle juice just didn't mix.

She put one government issue shoe in front of the other and pointed herself at the riverside walking path.

"I don't care." Her eyes lazily flickered back and forth, seeking for something to erase so she paused to wait for the feeling to pass. When her eyes did that, it made it hard to concentrate or even move around sometimes. This slow agitation didn't bother her too much, she decided, so she went on anyway. It didn't look to be stopping anytime soon. "I don't really care that I'm missing some pieces. So you don't have to worry about that."

She shifted in his jacket. It was entirely too hot to be wearing this thing now that the heat of the day was full on, but Lucas told her to. So she did. Jane didn't seem to mind carrying out orders either, now that she thought about it. "Sometimes they come back, but it's so unreliable that I can't care. You know? If I care about everything I didn't know about then I'd be a lot crazier."

The fire safety hatchet sagged toward the ground. This had better not be a long walk. "They said my name's not really Noel. They had pictures of the real girl and she's not me. They say my name is Jane Doe now, but it doesn't fit right." That was the crux of the issue. She didn't mind when the pieces were missing. But she minded when they were filled in again incorrectly.

Sometimes you have to pick your battles and the rifle seemed to be one of those times that Lucas needed to back off. He hurried to fall into step beside the woman as she started walking towards the river on her own. She started to talk and went on about how she felt about her memory loss and it was nice to hear her open up a little bit.

“....They say my name is Jane Doe now, but it doesn't fit right."

Noticing the axe sliding in her hand a bit, Lucas bent a little to grab the handle and lift it up. “Are we keeping this for any reason?” He asked her. “I am guessing the rifle is enough so we should probably get rid of this now, wouldn’t you agree?” The last part was more of a statement than a question. Noel/Jane was possessive about the rifle though, she might feel equally strong about an axe. He wasn’t sure how McMillan felt about weapons but Lucas could guess that a drugged girl in an asylum uniform with a rifle and a bloody axe would be a bad place to start the conversation.

Trying to deflect his attempted axe napping, Lucas quickly changed the subject while maintaining his grip on the haft. “If your name isn’t Noel or Jane, any idea what you want me to call you now?”

He picked up the hatchet handle and it served as a sort of link between them while she worked her fingers loose from its haft. "I didn't want to leave it."

Melee weapons required melee range. Melee range meant people were that much more likely to get in some hits. It was much safer to carry a gun. "You can have it." She was sure he had a hold of it so she let go. He really could have it.

What did she want to be called? The girl with no name walked along in silence for a long time. "You don't usually get to pick your own name..." This would take some serious thought.

Amber, Amanda, Brittany, Becka, Caroline... that one didn't sound so bad... Diana, Emily, Faith... There were lots of options. "I guess Noel works, unless you have a better suggestion." Now that one of her hands was free she scratched at her medical bracelet, determined not to ask how much further it would be.

“I think the name kind of suits you.” Lucas said with a smile. “Why mess with perfection. Noel it is. Maybe you should change your last name to something more hip and modern though? What do you think of Agance? It has a really nice ring to it when you say it out loud with your first name.” Lucas was unable to hide his smirk. He mentally prepared himself for the smack that would surely come when Noel figured out the joke.

*****

A couple of minutes later, the couple walked under the bridge and Lucas could see the single story building which had become his home up ahead. It was early afternoon and the bridge above placed long shadows on the street, making the red brick of McMillan’s seem almost gray. At this time of day, there was a good chance the coach would be in his office or on the gym floor imparting wisdom. Either way, there would be no sneaking past him. Lucas still wasn’t sure how he would explain why he was bringing a woman home to live in the back room after disappearing for the day but hoped he would come up with something clever on the fly.

“That’s my place up ahead” Lucas said with a nod. “It isn’t fancy I’m afraid. Just a small place in the basement of a gym but it does the job.”

Thinking about it more, his place was pretty small. Lucas never really considered the logistics of a roommate thoroughly until now. They would have to make do somehow. There was always the padding on the exercise floor after closing if need be. Not the best living conditions he’d ever had but better than an alley. He owed the woman that much.

As they came up beside the building, Lucas stepped around the side and hid the axe in some bushes he had planted a couple of weeks back. “I’m going to leave it here for now. Be a bit tough to explain to the coach I think. I’ll put it with the rest of my tools later.”

He couldn’t keep the axe with him now and as Noel gave it as a gift, it was tough to throw away right there in front of her. He would probably clean it off and use it for gardening or other axe related chores. Tree cutting in Brooklyn, defence against zombie attacks...whatever use presented itself. The thought of asking Noel to hide her new rifle as well crossed his mind but by the way she cradled it under his sweater, it didn’t seem likely so he just dismissed the idea.

Taking a deep breath, Lucas decided it was time to face the music. “Let’s go meet the boss.” He said as he went back around to the large green door at the front.

She didn't get it. It was a long, silent walk for the rest of the way while she pondered the merits of using the same name or the same last name or both or neither by the end her head was spinning. Also, if she chose to continue with the name Noel, she could no longer be outwardly grumpy when people took jabs at her around the holidays while secretly pleased to see her name everywhere. Obviously, there was a lot to consider here.

When Lucas broke the silence she jumped. She hadn't forgotten he was there, but the silence had been so complete that the words jarred her out of her reverie. He was right. It wasn't fancy. "But it's better than mine." Hers came with constant questions and circle time sessions and straps on the beds and locked doors and little white cups full of things to keep them happy.

So far, she liked it better here.

"The coach?" The brunette considered leaving her gun there too, but... well, there really was no reason to part with it at this point. "He's the boss of you?" She was a bit confused about how this all worked. "What do you do... besides... what we just did?"

“You mean, what do I do besides daring rescues of lovely damsels like yourself?” Lucas asked with fained seriousness.

It was an odd series of questions and Lucas took a second to see if she was trying to get back at him for the last name joke earlier. That had gone over like a lead balloon and maybe this was some kind of payback. After careful consideration there didn’t seem to be any angle he could think of so the young man assumed the questions were genuine.

“He is my boss, coach and landlord all rolled into one. My boss because he has employed me to keep the place in shape, my coach because he is training me to be a better boxer and my landlord because he lets me stay in the back. His name is Sean McMillan but I just call him coach. It’s much easier that way.”

And what did Lucas do besides that? The old man kept him pretty busy really. What else did he do? It felt like an awkward introductory question on a first date when people were trying to figure each other out. He liked going out with friends, enjoying a good book, meeting new people ….the stuff everybody did he supposed.

“All this usually keeps me pretty busy but I do enjoy life to its fullest when the opportunity presents itself.”

Taking hold of the handle, Lucas swung the old steel door open to reveal the stairs going down to the basement. He waved his arm out in exaggerated chivalry to beckon Noel into his domain.

“After you my lady.” He said with a mock British accent.

As Noel looked down into the depths of the building, Lucas tried to give her a quick rundown of the gym to make her more comfortable.

“I’ll probably have to talk to the coach to work out some details when we get downstairs but you can go ahead and make yourself at home in the meantime. There is most probably a strict policy on rifles in the training area so you can put that in my room for now. It will be safe there. You can get to my room through the door on the back wall.”

The thought of her crossing the busy gym with a rifle tucked into her shirt made Lucas a bit nervous but hopefully it would go over well and no one would notice. Some of the guys might throw a cat call or two but that would probably be the worst of it. It was only polite to warn her ahead of time about the testosterone factor though.

“This is kind of a guy place sometimes. Nothing worse than you might get walking by a construction site but thought I would give you the heads up just in case the natives are restless.”

Following her down the stairs, they made their way into the large training space. McMillan stood in the ring, supervising two boxers as they sparred. Giving instruction and imparting wisdom with a keen eye and sharp tongue. Several other fighters littered the space working on different skills and techniques. Lucas recognized some of the regulars. Everyone seemed focused on their work so far. Small miracles.

“You’ll see the women’s bathrooms on the right of the gym over there.” Lucas continued, pointing towards the ladies change area. “It is more dorm style but there are a couple of showers you can use. You’ll get privacy for the most part. Not a lot of girls come here so it will pretty much be yours most of the time. If you feel like a shower, should be some towels in there already and you can grab some clothes out of my dresser.”

“LUCAS!” McMillan yelled out from the ring as he spotted the young man at the door. “WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN!” All eyes in the room turned to notice the strange looking couple that had just arrived.

“Kitchen’s between the bathrooms if you’re hungry.” Lucas finished. “Welcome to my place.”

Nobody in their right mind would catcall a girl in an oversized zipper sweater over what appeared to be pajamas with hair like a rats nest and epileptic eyes. At least that's what she thought. Apparently, from the comments, they thought her messy appearance was a direct result of sex.

She gripped the stock of the gun under the sweater and tried very hard to let the comments or congratulations to Lucas bother her. She didn't hold the gun because she wanted to use it. It was just something comforting to her.

"I'll shower." It seemed the safest retreat at this point since it was a women's shower. The thought of no boys allowed was suddenly very appealing. The ex-agent only hesitated because she didn't want to get the gun wet. She hadn't caught which door was Lucas'. She had been distracted by the puddles of testosterone, the perfume of sweat and the wall of sound.

For some reason she thought they would be the only ones there. Well, them and the coach.

Reluctantly, she handed the weapon to Lucas before retreating. It wasn't worth ruining the gun just because she wanted to get out of the public eye.

The bathroom seemed mostly made of paint sealed cinderblocks with an entryway that had no door, but twisted and turned in an S so that no one could possibly ever see anything without walking all the way in to the small restroom.

Obviously this was a male dominated gym. A thin layer of dust coated mirrors that hung above stained white porcelain sinks. It smelled like sour water and minerals and she saw more than one spider scamper away.

She checked the small rectangular window at the top of the wall at the back of the room, but it was only big enough for a shoe to fit through and had thick, warped glass that separated inside from outside. She could see just a hint of ground level outside.

Satisfied that the location was safe enough, she peeled off her clothes. They were incredibly sweaty, but it had been a long day.

The showers sported simple silver heads that poked out of the wall all in a row. There were cinderblock dividers between the showers, but they weren't tall enough to reach all the way to the ceiling. Just tall enough to keep anyone 6 foot and under from peeking, not that it did any good since there were no shower curtains. Best of all there was a wooden bench beneath each head turned colors from a battle with mildew. It was as clean as this kind of place ever got. The brunette supposed that it would have to do.

If she thought she was fatigued before, once she stepped into the mist of hot water she seriously considered napping on the stained wooden bench in the shower. The brunette ended up scrubbing her eyes as much as anything else. She scrounged the last droplets of some Pert Plus from a travel bottle left abandoned in one of the stalls. Without conditioner her hair would keep its mess of tangles and waves, but at least it would be clean.

The water turned off and she was combing through her hair before she realized her predicament.

She had gone straight for the bathroom. She hadn't stopped for clothes or a towel. She didn't even have a gun to hide behind. The brunette poked through the clothes and found that Lucas' hood was both least smelly and large enough that she could pretend that it was decent. Also, undies. There was no way she was walking out of here without those.

She put the hood on, zipped it up and checked the hemline in the mirror. She would never have worn a dress this short if it were up to her. If she put her arms up that would tug the sweater up and… well, she just wouldn't put her arms up. She nabbed the bundle of damp clothes and peeked around the edge of the S entrance to see what might be going on.