It All Started in the Tunnel of Love

I clearly don't own Left 4 Dead but I DO enjoy playing it. I came here looking for some Nick and Rochelle pairing and found that particular category sadly short. Hence, I've decided to write my own. It's all done, I just have to type up the final draft and will post new chapters as I finish. Thanks for R&R.

Chapter I

Rochelle couldn't pinpoint exactly when the dynamic in the group began to change. All through the trip from the hotel to the mall, the four of them-well, not Ellis, not ever Ellis- had been businesslike and polite enough, but not what you'd call friendly. A zombie apocalypse clearly made for strange bedfellows. No, it wasn't in that first week they'd spent together. Maybe it was when they'd met the other group of survivors.

The three-once four-people they'd met at the bridge were a tight-knit fighting team: a real team. They cared about each other and were still visually shaken by the loss of their other member. One of the men, Rochelle couldn't remember his name, had been wounded and wasn't able to move much yet. The other two weren't going anywhere without him so they were waiting for his leg to be healed enough to move. They'd helped her own group as much as possible and had seemed like a family more than the strangers that had been thrown together as her own group had been.

Well, let's be honest. It wasn't easy with Ellis' constant enthusiasm and Nick's perpetual comments about leaving as soon as he could. But when they had made it to Whispering Oaks and were still together after three weeks, Nick's comments had disappeared (although Ellis' enthusiasm hadn't) and Coach had become their leader. That change in dynamic had been nice. The one she was thinking about now, however, wasn't that one.

Rochelle thought for a few moments as she continued cleaning her shotgun. It was a mindless action she did every night when she was on watch to help her stay awake as well as give her time to think. She turned her head to look at the sleeping figures of the men behind her, but her gaze lingered on one in particular. He was the cause of the change. But when had it started?

Nick shifted in his sleep and Rochelle turned back to her weapon. It must have started in the tunnel of love. She grimaced at that. It sounded like a really bad opening line for a romance novel. But it was true. They'd fought their way through nearly the entire amusement park and came across a safehouse in, of all places, the tunnel of love…

*FLASHBACK*

She had been bone-tired after fighting their way through a horde that had been attracted by the sound of the carousel starting up. Her gun had jammed and Nick had tossed her a machete he'd been carrying. As she'd collapsed on the floor of the saferoom in exhaustion, Nick had come over and sat next to her.

"Here, let me see your gun," he'd said, holding out his hand.

She'd handed it over and then pulled his machete from behind her, wiping it off in the process. "Thanks, Nick. If it hadn't been for you I would've been screwed."

A sparkle came into his eyes and one corner of his mouth lifted in a cocky grin. "Well, Darling, that can still be arranged."

She'd been caught off guard by that flippant remark and had laughed. "Keep dreaming, Lover Boy," she had quipped back.

"I think things have calmed down out there," Coach observed, "Ellis, you up for a little foraging, Son?"

Ellis cracked a smile. "Hell, yeah! Let's check the food stands!"

"I'll stay and provide cover," Nick offered, reloading the hunting rifle he'd found.

Coach nodded and he and Ellis headed out. After a few minutes spent still catching her breath, Rochelle stood up and went to the table filled with ammo. The next thing she knew, she was unceremoniously sprawled on the floor with Nick kneeling down next to her, concern evident in his eyes.

"Rochelle! Come on! Wake up!" He was shaking her, his voice getting louder.

"Wha-what happened?" Rochelle sat up with Nick's help and felt the world spin again.

"Whoa there, Honey! Take it easy!"

She felt Nick's strong arms go around her, steadying her. What was wrong? She felt herself shaking a little bit and she felt light-headed. Oh God...was she infected?!

"Nick! What's wrong with me?! Did I get bit? Am I going to turn into one of them?!" Rochelle was angry at herself for sounding frightened.

"Let me see your back," Nick said, all traces of his usual sarcastic self gone. Helping her take her bloodied shirt off, he let his hands gently skim over her light mocha skin: bruises, scrapes, scars...but no bite marks. "I don't see any Rochelle."

Coach and Ellis walked in at that moment and stopped dead in the doorway: the looks on their faces, priceless. Ellis was the first to speak.

"Um, you know-uh guys-if you wanted privacy or something-." His face flamed red as he pointedly stared at a speck of dried blood on his boot.

"It's not like that at all!" Rochelle answered hastily, slipping her shirt back on.

"Little Sister, we aren't passing judgment or anything," Coach started.

"She passed out. I was helping her check for bite marks on her back," Nick cut him off, standing up.

"Ohhhh," Ellis replied, once again looking in their direction now that Rochelle was covered properly.

Coach was immediately all business. "What happened?"

"I heard a thump and turned around to find her out cold on the floor," Nick started

"When I came to, I felt really light-headed and shaky," Rochelle added.

Coach was quiet a moment, considering. "Rochelle, when was the last time you had something to eat?"

Rochelle though back-and found she couldn't remember. "I'm not sure."

"Girl, you're hungry! Here-we found some decent stuff!" Ellis excitedly produced hot dogs and popcorn. "The dogs were in a fridge that was still working."

She had been equally relieved she hadn't been bit, grateful for the "real" food, and embarrassed that she had been so easily scared. Rochelle simply was NOT one to shy away from anything: hence her assignment to cover the outbreak. And Coach was right-after she'd eaten, the dizziness passed. How stupid could she have been? She was most embarrassed that Nick had been witness to her entire moment of weakness. Of all the men to be there for it, why him?

She sat down on the soft carpet and began cleaning her gun. Ellis and Coach were having a discussion about the merits of a carbine versus an AK-47 and Nick was laying stretched out not far from where she sat. She thought he was asleep but when he softly asked, "Hey, how're you feeling?" she realized he was awake.

"Foolish. Embarrassed. Lame," she replied.

Nick leaned on one elbow and turned to look at her. "Why?"

"Because! I acted like a scared little girl! That's not me!"

"Honey, with all the batshit crazy stuff we've seen in the last three weeks, there have been times when I was scared like a little girl."

Rochelle looked at him, searching for the smart ass smirk or wink to show he was making fun of her again...but there was nothing but honesty. She had smiled and settled back, thinking to herself maybe Nick wasn't all cold-hearted like he enjoyed projecting.

*END FLASHBACK*

And now, two weeks later, here they were at the edge of a swamp, still trying to get to some kind of permanent safety. They were holed up in a storehouse of sorts...a dry safehouse on the other side of a huge swamp leading to a plantation. They were trying to find some kind of transport to New Orleans where, according to the map they had seen four weeks ago, there was what looked like the last evac center on the East Coast.

Four weeks? Had they really been together that long already? Rochelle shook her head. It was both a long time and yet so brief. She supposed being thrown together for four weeks in a life or death situation helped people get over their normal inhibitions and the social niceties associated with getting to know someone.

When they had first been thrown together, Rochelle had disliked Nick immediately. He was clearly a loner and no wonder. Rochelle could not stand arrogance. He had made it clear he wanted nothing to do with anyone once they got to the EVAC station. But when they realized there was none at the mall, he eased up a bit. When they'd run into the other group of survivors at the bridge and the biker had flirted shamelessly with her another side of Nick showed through. He had acted as if he were jealous, making odd comments that weren't normal for him. She had thought it just another part of his annoying personality, but now she wasn't so sure.

After that safe-room incident in the tunnel of love, there had been a change in his cocky attitude. He still made sarcastic comments, but now they were amusing and had lost their acerbic quality. They had managed to summon the helicopter in the concert arena and they were all getting in when Rochelle had seen a real difference in Nick. Ellis had been hurt and was limping to the chopper. Nick was ahead of him and stopped, waiting for Ellis to catch up as he laid cover down for him. He helped Rochelle pull/push Ellis into the chopper before getting in himself. Just as Nick had reached up to the hovering runner above him, a Smoker ensnared him, pulling him back into the stands. Rochelle had grabbed her hunting rifle and in one, smooth move, brought it to her shoulder and fired once, hitting the Smoker right between the eyes. She dropped her rifle and called, "Coach! Cover me!" and jumped out of the 'copter to sprint to Nick.

They both made it to the helicopter, safe if not totally sound. Nick nearly collapsed on top of her and then, in a shaky voice said, "Thanks, Ro. Thanks for coming back."

She had been ready to toss back a flippant remark but when she looked at him, his eyes held no hint of their accustomed hardness. That had thrown her a bit and she'd just smiled in return. "I can't let anything happen to you, Nick. Who else is going to call me Sweetheart?"

Yes, Rochelle decided, as she finally set her near-sparkling clean gun down in preparation to wake Coach for his watch, their team was starting to feel more like a family. Albeit, it was a highly dysfunctional one, but it still felt good.

"Coach...hey, Coach," she gently shook the large man. He woke up fairly quickly.

"My turn?" he asked a bit groggily.

"Yep. Everything's been pretty quiet so far," Rochelle informed him.

"Good….good. Get some sleep, Ro," he said, standing up and getting his gun.

She nodded and took Coach's spot on the floor of the cramped saferoom. Turning on her side, she glanced once at Ellis, who was dead to the world, and then rested her gaze on Nick, who was right next to her. Her last thoughts as she drifted off were about the color of his shirt and how it matched his eyes.