an: this has been sitting almost finished for over a year now - to anyone who's still reading this: I'm very sorry it's taken so long to post this! I'm going to try to finish writing this before school starts up in a couple weeks, I personally really like these characters.

disclaimer: I don't know the boys. I don't own the songs.

Oh, what a lousy excuse for a car

One mile to go, but I can't push it that far

I think I've had enough

I think I'm giving up

An hour and a half later found Dougie and me huddled together in what had to be the tiniest – and oldest – pay-telephone booth in existence. We had been walking down the seemingly deserted road on what had been an amazingly warm and sunny day after his car had broken down on our way back to the city after spending most of the afternoon at an outdoor shopping centre a little less than an hour outside of London. As we had been walking, though, the weather had quickly changed for the worst – what had been an almost windless day was gradually replaced with a day with a wind so strong and forceful we were clinging onto each other, pulling the other along so we could keep going forwards and – simply – to remain on our feet. The sky had also darkened greatly in that it almost felt like it was nine pm, rather than the four in the afternoon that it was – and being the middle of spring, the sun was supposed to be in the sky longer into the evening.

It had been raining – pouring, pounding down on us so much and so hard that I thought we might have been walking – stumbling – through a hailstorm, but it was just raining so hard and the rain was quite heavy, seemingly – for about five minutes when we were able to make out the shape of the phone booth in the distance. By that point, we were already soaked through. Another five minutes of stumbling later, and we were wedged in the tiny shelter, squished together and shivering.

"You don't happen to have any change in that bag of yours, do you?" Dougie asked a moment later through clattering teeth.

After getting it so I could get into my bag – not only had been stuck with water to my side, it had also been stuck between our closely pressing bodies – I wriggled around inside. "How's this?" I replied, pulling a small handful of coins from the bottom of my slightly messy bag.

"Alright! Now… who should we call?" He pondered over his question briefly before reaching around my short figure, picking up the receiver, dropping a couple of the coins from my hand into the slot to pay for the call and punched in a number. "Good thing you're short or that might not have worked out so well." There was a pause – in which I looked incredulously up at him smiling wickedly down at me – and then he was speaking to whomever was on the other end. "Hey mate. … What? No, it's Dougie? … Dude, seriously? You're going to do this now? When I can just barely hear you? Oi! … No, no, listen, my car broke down a while ago and we've – … What? …. Me and Dare, we've been walking for a long time in this storm – and not a single person has come by since we've been stranded. … What? … Oh, umm, like almost two hours? Maybe a bit less. But we're cold and tired either way. … Our phones aren't working, or else we would have. … Huh? … It just died, dude. You can ask Dare what she did to hers" – he snickered at that. "So, can you come get us or what?" Another pause followed by Dougie telling whoever where about we were. And then he put the receiver back down, ending the call.

For what felt like a year – but, as it turned out, was a little more than half an hour – Dougie and I attempted to keep each other warm. We didn't say much, not only because we were so cold that our teeth chattered every time one of us opened our mouths – only making us both colder – but also because after having spent most of the afternoon together, and then more than an hour walking along a deserted road, we had run out of things to talk about without it having been awkward – although, being two of the most awkward people I've ever come across, if we hadn't of found the shelter that was the phone booth when we did, those topics probably would have been breached too – and had lapsed into a comfortable silence.

When the car pulled into the car park – we had decided that there had probably been a petrol station here at some point but it had burnt down, leaving only the pavement and the phone booth (and since we couldn't see much through the rain, we couldn't be certain) – Dougie threw open the door and we bolted. Whoever was inside, pushed open the backdoor on the driver's side, and we dove in, shutting the door quickly behind us. We huddled a little longer while relishing in the warmth that was radiating inside the car.

Harry – so that's who Dougie had called! – turned around in his seat, laughed at us, and then started driving the car. "There should be some blankets on the seat back there," he mentioned as he drove carefully down the road.

It was then that we noticed them, quickly wrapping up in them and relishing even more in the extra warmth they provided us.

"So," Harry began after he had been driving for a while, a smile in his voice and probably on his face too. "Dougie said to ask you about your phone Dare. So what happened to it?"

Shooting a glare at Dougie – who was just smirking away – I explained how my phone had found its way under the car and then Dougie had driven over it. The way I had made it sound, it was like the blame was on any and everything other than me. Perfect.

Harry laugh. "Only you!"

I was about to ask what he meant by that, even though I had an inkling of an idea, when he pulled the car into a garage and turned it off before the garage door slid shut behind us, locking us in. He unlocked the doors and climbed out.

Still wrapped in the now-drenched blankets, Dougie and I waddled into Harry's house. While he hadn't needed to – Dougie knew where everything was – Harry pointed us in the direction of the bathrooms and told us where the towels and blankets were so we could take showers. He also suggested we throw our clothes in the wash so we'd have something clean and dry to put on later.

This was how, less than ten minutes later, we were knee deep in the suds coming from under the lid of the washing machine, laughing and squealing in our underwear as we tried – unsuccessfully – to stop the flow of them.

"Is someone in here?" we heard from outside just before the door to the small room was pulled open, the bubbles starting to spill out around. "Oh, umm…." Danny's current girlfriend blushed as she took in the sight of us. "Sorry, I didn't realise –."

"What? Oh, nothing's going on here," I explained, "we just accidently put too much detergent in the machine and were trying to get it to stop."

She eyed us curiously, probably taking in the bubble beards we had happily given ourselves, as well as our scantily clad selves. "Isn't there an emergency stop button on that thing?"

"Ooh! I found it! Thank you, Claire!" Dougie cheered, reminding me of her name, as he found the button in mention and pressed it. The seeping of bubbles suddenly stop.

She looked at us skeptically before turning around and leaving us to clean up our mess. Just before we started, I slipped on the suds and started to go under. Dougie attempted to catch me right at the last second, but ended up falling as well. We sat and laughed on the floor, the suds looking as though there was suddenly a lot more of them now that we were at their level, and then began to clean the mess up so we could warm up with hot showers.

song: breakdown by relient k

an: I'm going to have another one within the week. honest. thanks for reading! :)