Disclaimer: Not mine, not mine, and not mine. No copyright infringement intended.

A/N: brief allusion to sexual assault nothing graphic at all but be warned in any case. Thanks Amy for reviewing. J

Langly didn't even look into the woods. It hadn't been a great plan in the first place, but he wouldn't leave Mary Pat on the wet grass to die at the hands of large men! (Even if she was an egotistical bitch.)

"Your…a…complete...idiot!" Mary Pat whispered.

"Wow, most people would say thank you, or take me now you love machine."

Mary Pat clearly didn't believe the latter, but there wasn't much time to debate as wingus and dingus caught up. And one or both of them sent a huge fist at Langly's eye, fortunately deflected by his horn rims, which rather unfortunately fell into the grass.

"Damn it, how'd they get out?" Said the blurry figure of wingus (or maybe it was dingus?)

"This isn't worth it let's pop 'em both now, an torch the place."

"Nah, we gotta wait. It's gotta seem like an accident, two bullet holes in the friggin head don't look like no accident to me."

"Okay, but I get her, that bitch has been nothing but trouble."

The big blur grabbed the Mary Pat blur. Langly ran in the general direction shouting "Hey!" but he missed them and veered off. One of the blurs grabbed him and twisted his arm around his back.

"You sure got some bad taste in men, girly." One the men laughed. "Come on Charlie, it ain't gonna look real if she's all torn up inside!"

"They'll tink he did it!"

"Him? Come on they're gonna know it ain't him he's too scrawny. And they got your DNA on file remember? You wanna go back and finish that life sentence or you wanna git out for good?"

Langly officially realized they were beyond screwed. If these two Neanderthals felt comfortable discussing their plan with Langly and Mary Pat in earshot, in meant no about of ass licking would get them out. They were going to die, in a motel, in Michigan, during an oddly warm winter and be blamed for it. Next to the senior prom this was probably the worst night of his entire existence.

The men blurs dragged Langly and the Mary Pat blur back inside, the moved something from in front of their door and shoved them back inside, but before they left one, or both of them punched him in the stomach.

"Langly?" Mary Pat asked. "Are you alright?"

"Not if my lap top smashed."

"You have a laptop under your shirt?"

"You think I'd just abandon my baby!"

"In a matter of life and death?"

"Yes, and in this matterit saved my life. Man, I wish I could see if they broke anything."

"Here" Mary Pat handed Langly his glasses

"How--"

"I saw them fall in the grass."

"Thanks." Langly's mangled frames dangled from one arm. The lenses looked okay but one side of the frame looked dangerously near self-amputating. Langly put them on and opened the lap top case, the case within the case and the padded insert.

"Little paranoid?"

"You don't know the half of it. This baby's designed for war biking, you know looking for an unsecured wireless connection while in a car is called war driving…."

"I know what war driving is!"

"Anyway, the computer is fine."

"Oh good, I don't know how I would have gone on living otherwise."

Langly booted up. And sat on the bed.

"No chance they left us the phone line?" he asked.

"Cut before they even came inside. And it seems they've nailed the windows now too."

"Damn."

"Um Langly, are you going to let that black eye swell?"

"What? Um."

Mary Pat walked into the adjoining bathroom and came out with a wet washcloth.

"The ice machine, is outside of the room but this should work. This is what civilized people use instead of ripping bed sheets."

"Thanks." Langly's stared at his screen and took the washcloth without acknowledging Mary Pat.

"What are you working on."

"Huh?"

"Working. On. You. What. Are."

"I'm documenting my last days for future generations, mainly future generations of detectives. How tall wold you say wingus is?"

"Which one's wingus again?"

"Never mind."

"Well, I see you've excepted death reasonably well."

"Occupational hazard."

"What's your line of business? Heroic rescues?"

"Yeah sometimes."

"And the rest of the time?"

"Investigative reporter for The Lone Gunmen."

"You're a reporter? You don't uhh look much like one."

"Yeah well you look like you're a politically inclined Canadian librarian."

"I'm a librarian for parliament in Ottawa."

"Bad example."