Warning(s): Language

Kurt had the "madder than mad" face on, which wasn't good. Because he mostly wore the "mad" face, but now he was madder than mad. Girl wasn't sure why.

She had followed him like he said. Let him drag her back to the car. Let him sit her in the backseat. Let him turn her face that way. Then the other way. Back to the left. Right. Then left again. She got a little dizzy, but she kept still.

Less moving was always good. That's what Roy always said.

Kurt rubbed hard. Girl didn't like it. She really didn't like it, at all, but she kept still. A lot of blood was wiped off, but she could smell a lot more on her. On her knuckles and under her nails and all over her shorts and shirt.

She liked the big shirt. She could pull it over her head and pretend to be a... a thing. Started with the letter S. In the book. Sounded like fail.

Roy hated to fail.

"Look. At. Me," Kurt growled. He squeezed Girl's jaw tighter and just stared. Taking her in. Girl stared back and wondered why his mouth was so bumpy. And dry. Like little pieces of his mouth were coming off. She wanted to pull them off, but she kept still.

Kurt let her go. "Good enough."

Girl fell back into the seat. Just far enough for the door to shut and miss her feet. She laid on the musky leather. And stayed there. Was this the stay Roy liked? Or the kind that made him madder than mad like Kurt? She couldn't remember.

So she moved anyway and sat up. The car smelled like... lots of things. Sweat. And blood. Those were the biggest smells, but there were lots of little ones too. The stuff that smelled like trees and grass; it came from their necks and armpits. And then there were the nastier smells on the seat. She could see it, just a little, but Roy washed some of it off last night.

Last night. There was a woman too. She laughed a lot and made noises. Roy did too. Girl didn't know what they were, but he cleaned the seats after. And he was smiling.

Oh... Girl just remembered--she never fell. Not on purpose. She was good at staying up. Kurt had pushed her.

She closed her eyes and put her head on the window. She could hear and smell Roy getting into the car beside her.

"Good show!" Roy laughed. He cupped the back of Girl's head and stroked. Girl didn't react. "A savage lil shit, you are! I raise them right."

"Raise her to act faster," Kurt said. The car shook and growled, then started moving. Girl still didn't open her eyes. She wanted to sleep. Roy said it was always good for her to sleep.

Roy's fingers went deeper into her hair. "I'm the one who got shot. The fuck you have to complain about?"

"Exactly. If she'd been faster, you wouldn't be lippin' all over the goddamn pla--"

"You know what? I haven't fucked your mom in a while; next time I see her, I'll bring up unbirthing your chatty ass." Roy's jokes never made sense to Girl, but he always laughed like they were the funniest things in the world. She heard Kurt sniff, hard but soft at once. He thought it was funny too.

"Fuck off. Horny bastard."

A bunch of noises left Roy after that, low and hard to understand. They didn't mean anything. Weren't supposed to. He liked to be loud and heard by everyone, so Girl knew it didn't matter.

But then his nails curled and Girl's eyes opened. He pulled. Hard. But not that hard; he could do it much harder if he wanted to. But still--Girl knew she was in trouble and when she was in trouble, things turned out better if she followed the yanks. It made him feel stronger.

His breath was hotter than Girl's room. It made her nose itch and her tummy wiggle like worms. She worked hard to remember W is for worms and she was happy about that.

"Good ole Kurt's got a point though... Next time you just fucking stand there and let another man shoot me, I'll drag your ass halfway through Chicago," he said. He pulled again, smaller but still hard. "You understand me?"

Girl nodded.

There was a short time of nothing going on in the moving car, then he let her go and made more unimportant sounds. Girl played with PomPom and kept quiet and still.

}:{

As the Buick pulled into the garage, Kurt made a show of sitting stock still in his seat, though he had killed the engine. His gaze snapped to the front view mirror and locked eyes with Roy. Girl's head rested on the man's shoulder, her lips parted obtusely and filling the space with loud snoring.

"Speaking of which, Boss," Kurt's fingers drummed the wheel, "Got a business proposition to run by ya. With Girl, I mean."

Roy's furry brow hiked up with intrigue. "Always room in my schedule for business. Get Girl to bed and find me in my office." He nudged Girl; it didn't take much effort on his part to shove her to the opposite end of the seat, as the young girl weighed next to nothing. Regardless, the motion stirred her awake and she jolted, a snort catching in the back of her throat. Kurt, who was watching the reaction, rolled his eyes.

"Can do," he muttered.

Girl was hauled out by the wrist and led upstairs to the main lobby. Roy's penthouse was, by financial reasons, an exquisite and luxurious abode. However, the actual condition of it had little to be desired. Age and grime and cobwebs had overrun what was once the fresh face of bachelor housing, a stagnant undercurrent of blood and sex lingering on every surface. Only a few areas had earned Roy's upkeep--the bar, the garage, and his office.

Especially his office.

Rather than stopping at the door leading into the aforementioned room, Kurt faced a slab of metal next to it. Blotches of rust crawled across the expanse of it, leading up to a slot that slid open and closed. He retracted a single key from his pockets and unlocked it, stepping aside to look at Girl expectantly.

"Well? Get in there."

However, Girl failed to move. She stared up at Kurt, seemingly entranced by his visage or, rather, something on it. With reflexes far too fast for him to beat, her fingers flew to his lips and she peeled off a piece of chapped skin. He immediately slammed a hand over his mouth, tasting a pinprick of blood.

"Fuck! What the actual fucking--little piece of!" Eyes on fire, Kurt seized Girl by the back of her shirt and chucked her into the room, a kick delivered to her rear end on the way down. She flopped to concrete without much resistance. "Go! The fuck! To bed!"

An echoing slam.