The Princess was spirited, he'd give her that... But not much else. As she lunged for him, he stuck his hand out and braced it against her head. The sheer force of her hitting his hand surprised him. For a moment she rested her weight against his palm, but when she tried to twist away his long fingers held her in place. She struggled for a bit, wiggling this way and that, ultimately unable to break his hold. "Fight me like a man!" She demanded, most imperially. Bogs temper waned watching her fight. It was too late for this.
"Thought I was a cockroach?" Bog said mildly. He'd only just gotten off a ten hour shift and would probably crash immediately when he got home. Of course at this rate he'd be later rather than sooner. He should have checked his noble impulses and kept driving. He gave a world weary sigh. "Look do you want a ride or should I just leave you here for the next idiot who decides he's got a good deed quota to fill?" The girl finally froze and then took a careful step back. He let her go. Finally they were getting somewhere. "You're not an axe murder?" She said eyeing him suspiciously. He supposed out of the things she could have accused him of, that was tame...But he was exhausted and very much done pussyfooting around. Rolling his eyes he replied dryly "Depends on who's asking" The girl surprised him by snorting.
Bog led the way back to his car, and opened the passenger door for her. She slipped in and he slammed it behind her to make sure the old thing was actually going to stick. He climbed in and started the beast, as he called it, and got them back onto the highway. "Where to? " He questioned, glancing at his reluctant companion, only to stare as the she pushed the poofy monstrosity of a dress over her head. As she shoved the thing out her window, Bog's brain processed that she was actually dressed under it. "North side of town." Seeing his look of shock she shrugged "It was hideous a hideous thing for prom. My sister picked it."
He turned his attention firmly back to the road and tried to convince himself he wasn't blushing. Giving it up as a bad job, he reached into the back seat for the coat he kept in the car. "Here" he said gruffly, shoving it at her. She took it, and shrugged it on. "I am decent." She muttered. Bog disagreed. Whatever this girl was, decent she was not. A tank, short shorts, and purple leggings were not what he'd call appropriate attire, even in the summer. But mentioning that would probably get them back to where they started. "Its cold." He said instead. The thing nearly swallowed her, but she was no longer shivering or distracting so he counted it a win.