AKA Murdoc's Introduction to Noodle's Introduction to Hormones
Murdoc had forgotten just how hard Noodle could punch. Harder than Russel could, in all likelihood.
It took a full three minutes for his stomach to unpeel from itself and his coughs to subside into something somewhat manageable. He slowly straightened, wincing at the feel of his newly damaged not-so-healthy-in-the-first-place organ. Little bitch bruised him, definitely.
And while he was on that subject, what the hell?
What had that been about? It had been a while since Noodle had thrown one of her famous spaz-outs, say, two or three years, and even so, what had set her off in the first place? Was she mad he'd gotten the stupid cereal for her? Didn't kids get over the 'I can do it MYSELF' phase when they were…five? Ten? Eh, he couldn't keep up with that shit. She was too old for it, anyway.
He rubbed the sore spot absently, scowling contemplatively at nothing in particular. He had a few options here. One, he could track her down and wreak some form of revenge, which would be generally fun but would require a hell of a lot of effort on his part. Two, he could track her down and try to figure out what her problem was, which was less appealing, the right thing to do, and would still require a lot of effort. Or three, he could go with his original intent upon emerging from his Winnebago; grab a beer and get on with his day.
Beer it was, then.
Pop, fizzle…mmm. Maybe he'd check on Noods later on after all. It couldn't hurt.
So Murdoc plopped down on the couch with that thought in mind, beer pressed soothingly against his throbbing stomach, and flipped on the TV.
Except it didn't really work out that way, because Noodle was avoiding him like the plague.
He didn't notice at first. Half because he was drunk, and half because Noodle was a big girl and he didn't care that much. And also another half because it wasn't all that unusual in and of itself for all four of them to not run into each other all day; Kong was huge and they all enjoyed their privacy. Noodle more than others, sometimes. Being that she was a girl, and all, Murdoc kind of just forgot every once in a while…
But then around dinnertime he was a little, emphasis on the little, sober, and it couldn't escape his notice that she walked in on him tuning his bass, guitar strapped to her back, squeaked, and promptly hauled ass in the other direction. He stared down the hallway she'd disappeared from, too fuzzily surprised to yell anything after her.
That wasn't normal.
Noodle wasn't meek, and Noodle wasn't apologetic, especially not towards him, and for her to act either was just off. He scratched at his throat, and decided to definitely look into it. He couldn't have his band being all pansy ass awkward; that was for people who didn't have worldwide fame and talent on the line.
Plus some deep, sheltered part of him that usually only manifested itself when springy little girls with purple hair were around was a little curious. He hadn't done something, had he?
Then Russel bellowed that dinner was ready, and it clicked in his ever-so-fresh mind that this was a perfect opportunity. Noodle wouldn't dare risk her big black papa's wrath lest she skip dinner. He was already paranoid enough that Murdoc and 2D were rubbing off on her too much as it was.
Which Murdoc thought was pretty hilarious. Noodle was as staunchly independent as they got; she shaped herself. Murdoc wouldn't be able to stand her otherwise.
He rested his bass against the wall and strolled off in the direction of the kitchen, arms limp at his sides. Yeah, Noods wouldn't be able to get out of this one. He'd see her at dinner and, if it came down to it, corner her afterwards, and he'd force it out of her. Being that she was part of his band, she owed him complete honesty anyway. Congratulating himself on such a fine example of a plan, he almost missed it when a skinny blue-haired man attempted to sidle past him unnoticed.
Fortunately years of ingrained habit prompted Murdoc to instinctively snag the back of his shirt, taking a lazy kind of pleasure in his ringing yelp of alarm. 2D struggled valiantly with Murdoc's Grip of Death for all of a second, then his meager strength gave out and he was forced to concede defeat. Murdoc's malicious grin stretched over a good half of his face.
"Where ya goin', Dullard?" he asked pleasantly.
2D twisted his neck to look at him imploringly, practically radiating silent waves of please don't hit me. "I wos goin' t' dinner I wos, Muds," he bleated. "'cuz Russel called me."
Oh, yeah. And Russel probably wouldn't appreciate 2D showing up at the table sopping wet with blood. Murdoc generously released him. "Just checking."
He continued on down the hallway, making sure he heard 2D meagerly shuffle after him. And then something suddenly occurred to him. He stopped, not even remotely surprised when 2D ran into his back with a small oomph, and turned around.
"'ey D, you seen Noodle today?" he inquired. She spent half her time hanging around him anyway, it wouldn't be surprising. "She's been actin' real funny around me."
2D blinked at him in confusion, as if wondering why he was asking. Then something in his face abruptly clicked, and he just slightly angled himself away from him, weight shifting from foot to foot. Murdoc narrowed his eyes, every single instinct switching instantly over to suspicious. Now, what was this here?
"I dunno, Muds," 2D chattered nervously. "'oor a funny guy an' everyfink…"
"Have you seen her," Murdoc said, slow and deliberate and dangerous. "Or not?"
"Um…maybe?"
"Don't gimme that shit," Murdoc snapped, and 2D cringed like he'd hit him. "Something's been up with her all day and I wanna know what."
"Well – well why don't ya jus' ask 'er yo'self?" 2D stammered, voice pitching higher and higher with every word. He looked about ready to piss himself. He knew something.
"Because she's been avoiding me, haven 't you been paying attention?" he sneered. "And she wouldn't tell me if she had a problem, Dullard, she'd tell you. So what is it?"
2D opened his mouth wordlessly a few times. Then his expression turned curiously blank. He looked up at Murdoc as if he had just come to some startling new revelation.
"'oor worried abou' 'er."
The resulting animalistic snarl and violent scramble-chase was loud enough to shake the entirety of Kong. 2D fled for dear life itself with Murdoc hot on his heels, murder ringing in his ears. They rounded the corner just as Murdoc's fingers wrapped tightly around 2D's skinny little throat.
Noodle, seated silently at the dinner table, stared at them.
"Sit yo' ass down," Russel ordered shortly, setting a pan of lasagna down in front of her. "Now."
Murdoc was forced to obey, lest his nose be finally relocated to the back of his brain. He released him, fingers flexing from the effort, and 2D gratefully stumbled over to his chair and slumped into it. Murdoc, after another warning glance from Russel, slowly followed, seating himself across from Noodle and watching the way she immediately stiffened.
And that was just weird, because Noodle was never stiff, Noodle was Noodle.
Murdoc served himself a portion of lasagna without thanks and started to eat, watching Noodle out the corner of his eye. She was looking conspicuously away from him, neither smiling nor talking as the meal progressed. So, no luck there then.
He cleared his throat, more out of habit than anything else because his voice was never going to be clear no matter what he did, and addressed her. "So Noods. How's yer day been?"
The table went dead quiet. 2D was looking from him to Noodle and back again, eyes narrowed. Even Russel did a double take. Noodle's fork paused halfway to her mouth, seeming to realize that if she ignored him she'd just dig herself into a deeper hole.
He had her trapped. Heh. Heh. Heh.
After glancing once at Russel and once at 2D as if asking for help and getting no response, her jaw clenched and she stared hard at Murdoc's shoulder, which flexed automatically. For some reason this appeared to be a mistake on her part; her cheeks flooded with color.
"Well," she said shortly, and returned mechanically to her meal.
…well that hadn't really helped at all, except to confirm his suspicions. He frowned at her for a long time, which she studiously ignored.
Just experimentally, he slid down in his chair and nudged her knee with his.
She shot up from the table as if electrocuted, eyes wide. "Russel, I believe I am sick. May I retire to my room?"
Murdoc stared at her. He stared at her very, very hard.
Noodle only reverted to all that formal nonsense in two situations; when she was in interviews and had to appear to the public like she had half a brain since her band mates didn't bother, and when she was scared and putting up a front.
His leg twitched.
She was afraid of him? What the fuck had he done to make her afraid of him? Besides all the boozing and hookers anyway; she was used to that shit.
Russel looked a little startled, but he nodded. "Sure, go on up. I'll get yo' plates for you."
She nodded curtly and left with a hushed, "Thank you."
Murdoc cleared his throat again. "Russ, I'm feelin' kinda shitty too – "
"Shut the fuck up and eat."
Three days later Murdoc had had enough. Noodle had managed to worm her way out of two practice sessions, remained silent as death whenever he came into contact with her, and was overall just acting happy as a castrated walrus. Fuck it all, he was worried.
And that was how he found himself outside her room, banging away at her door without abandon. No more of this beating around the bush shit, he was going to find out what was wrong with her and he was going to find out now.
"Noodle!" he yelled. "I know yer in there, yeh little monster. Come the fuck out!"
No response. He was getting disturbingly used to that.
"Noodle, I'll break the bloody door down if yeh don't open it right fucking now."
And then he suddenly found himself face to face with her, and for the first time in days she looked pissed.
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't, Murdoc-san," she hissed at him, eyes spitting green fire from under her bangs.
He slowly lowered his hand. "Keep actin' like that an' I won't," he drawled. Then he shoved the helmet he was holding at her. "Here."
She took it gingerly, body language still settling at resentful. It made his dried up little heart hum with pride. "What for?"
"We're going for a ride," he said shortly, turning to go. When he didn't hear her following him he stopped and looked at her over his shoulder. "Or I could tell Russ about all 'em pervy mags ya got under yer mattress, it doesn't matter t' me either way."
If she was angry before she was furious now, glaring at him while her hands clutched the helmet tightly enough to throttle someone. "I was curious," she fumed.
"Yeah, so was my dick. Now come on."
He started off again, relaxing when he heard her choppy Japanese trailing after him; most likely death threats. He smiled to himself.
The walk to the car park was relatively peaceful, but when Murdoc led her over to his army-green Harley she stopped dead. "No."
He glanced at her. "Sorry?"
"I said no."
"I say yes," he said, lip curling as he fought his rising impatience. Something was up, something was wrong; this was Noodle, she was the best damn guitarist he'd ever find, she was Noodle…
She straightened to her full height, which for a sixteen year old girl was pretty considerable, but he still had a few inches on her. "I could kill you," she told him, eyes steely.
He just raised his eyebrows. "An' are ya gonna?"
She frowned at him ferociously, but then slumped and stepped forward, starting to strap her helmet on. "I really dislike you sometimes," she grumbled.
He grinned at her and clapped her on the back. "Darlin', everyone dislikes me sometimes."
He pushed off the kickstand and straddled it, looking at her pointedly until she got on behind him and lightly wrapped her arms around his chest. He snorted. "Unless you wanna go flying ass over head you might should hold on tighter."
She grudgingly complied, scooting closer until her crotch was spooning his ass and her breath warmed the back of his neck. Feeling deeply satisfied with himself, he ground on the accelerator and shot forward, feeling Noodle's arms tighten around him immediately. They roared out of the car park in a cloud of exhaust.
Murdoc went straight for the highway, because right now he didn't have the patience for stop signs and cross walks and all that other archaic shit. He just wanted to go, and he had an inkling that if they were out in the open, flying uninterrupted over miles and miles of endless asphalt Noodle would be more inclined to open up.
She always had liked his driving. She'd probably be the only one who ever did.
It took three minutes for her spine to unlock, and five more for her to give in to her discomfort and lean against him, resting her chin on his shoulder. He would have looked at her, but that would have dislodged her. He settled for running his tongue satisfactorily over his bottom lip and chuckling.
"Feelin' better?" he asked, yelling over the roar of the wind.
She was right by his ear, so she barely had to raise her voice. "…sorry."
"Eh…don't be."
"I meant about punching you in the gut."
"Oh…yeah, well, yeh should be sorry for that."
They were more or less completely alone on the road, and that suited Murdoc just fine. He liked having the extra room to weave around. He waited until he was completely sure she was relaxed, then dropped the bomb.
"So what's all this shit that's been goin' on between you 'n me?"
She was dead silent for the longest of times, long enough that Murdoc felt himself tense in preparation for her inevitable withdrawal. Then she sighed, very quietly, fingers moving to toy with the ends of his hair
"Teenage girl thing," she said finally, voice low. "Don't worry about it."
Whenever Noodle brought up her age and gender it was a clear sign that she wanted to be left alone, serious business. Murdoc dropped it; he could only push her so far.
They rode on in silence for several minutes. And it wasn't even a bad silence. Noodle had always been such a cool kid, it was hard to feel awkward or uncomfortable around her. He still didn't know what the fuck the past few days had been about, but, well. She was with him now. For the moment he was content to just ride along, with her fingers in his hair and the wind whipping at his face and her pert little nipples pressing into his back.
His brain screeched to a halt.
Oh.
OH.
Oh fuck.
And on a lesser note, oh that's what it was.
Noodle was a little startled when he abruptly swerved to the left and flew jerkily over the grassy median, but she was delighted all the same. She wasn't so delighted when he rushed them back, all but kicked her off his bike, and locked himself in his Winnebago. He went straight for his bottle of tequila, unscrewing the cap with shaking fingers and taking a long, deep swig that made his eyes burn.
He tapped his nails against the glass bottle, staring hard at Cortez. The bird cawed curiously.
"Fuck."