Even If You Were The Last Person On Earth

By Colorain

Disclaimer: I'm worried. Apparently I'm on the verge of Mary-Suing, and turning this into a romance, and neither of these were my original intentions. So . . . if Susan seems a little OOC, I'm bringing her back on track . . . to, um, the original?

For more on urban legends, visit http://www.snopes.com, or be specific and go here: http://www.rareexception.com/Garden/Floyd/Floyd.php. I don't own any of this stuff. Shoo.

Oh, but let me know if it's worth continuing.

"Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow. Owwwww. Ow. Ow."

Well, that was it. She was beginning to annoy herself. So moving hurt. So breathing hurt. So thinking hurt. So . . . so ouch was the point. Yeah. But it was still really annoying.

To his credit, Spock managed to give her scathing glances only about once every ten minutes. The rest of the time, he just looked damned amused. Well, and damned hot from behind, but she preferred her men tall, dark, and relatively sane. Favorably human as well, if at all possible. Her Earth human, too. Normally these criteria wouldn't be so hard to fill, but if you were the last person on Earth (well, one Earth), it made things just ever-so-slightly difficult. And Susan really, really hated difficult.

Really. Like, really really. Really.

God, she was annoying. It was amazing that Spock hadn't shot her already.

Ooooh. Not that she wanted to get shot or anything. That would definitely ruin the manicure.

Bad thoughts. Oh-so-very-very-bad thoughts, she mused silently. And not like picturing Mr. Sancto naked either.

Oooooh. Worse thoughts. She went back to thinking about getting shot.

In front of her, Spock absently fingered his crossbow.

Ooooooooh crap.

~*~

By about the third hour of walking, Susan began to wonder if it would really be so wrong if she were to play up the damsel-in-distress deal, since she was definitely in distress. And a damsel to boot. Damn, she had it made.

Well, except for the dashing prince. Lego-Spock was dashing (kind of), but she had a feeling he was tolerating her, instead of the other way around. It was kind of discomforting, but being the last two organisms on a plane of existence meant you probably tended to grate on each other's nerves. A lot. Susan didn't feel like testing out the theory, but it seemed unavoidable. Eventually she was going to piss him off to the point where he'd pull an arrow and aim it right at her throat. Her ex-boyfriends had done nothing less.

In fact, she still hurt from the last boy who'd gone Medieval elf on her.

Kidding! Kidding . . . God, how bored was she? Very, if she was dwelling on the ex-hotties she'd been out with. Susan groaned. It was just a very ouchy day.

Rather unfortunately, Lego-Spock-whatchamacallim had a mean-spirited way of not making any noise when he moved. Or didn't move. So Susan didn't feel an ounce of blame for slamming into him two seconds later.

The sky looked pretty. Different from what she was used to, but nice. The clouds were cute. Visions of handsome men with white horses floated through her blurred vision.

And then Lego-boy swam into view.

Damn thing hadn't even moved after she'd barreled into him. He was still standing like some kind of hunting dog on the breeze, except for the fact that there was no breeze and she wouldn't actually ever call him a dog to his face. Unless she was looking for trouble. Which she totally wasn't.

"Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon finally make sense?" Susan commented from the wonderfully squishy ground. Not looking for trouble, hmm? Her completely annoying adultish side chastised. Yeaaaaaah. You're not going to getting beaten up, oh no.

But as Spock was wont to do, he did nothing. Just stood there like some kind of statue. Maybe he heard something. Maybe she'd killed him. You just couldn't tell these days.

"Don't help or anything," Susan muttered as she picked herself up off the ground. She was going to be so black and blue by the end of the day she'd probably blend into the scenery that night.

Legolas held up a hand to shush her, and for once, she didn't argue. Instead, her eyes followed the line of sight his own were taking, and she stopped breathing.

The end of the world wasn't going to finish in nothing. It was going to be black.

She knew, because she could see it.