The road was dusty, and cold. Under any normal circumstances I would never let Murdoc drive, the band having learned the hard way from the 19/2000 video, but 2D was having a conniption fit of some sort and I was far too tired. I shivered against the cool night air and Murdoc offered me his arm to wrap around me.

"I'm sorry luv," he murmured into my hair. "I should've gotten you a jacket."

"No it's okay," I replied, snuggling closer to his warm body. "I don't need one." He looked doubtful but said nothing as we sped through the dark, chilly night.

"It's gonna take a couple o' days to reach Belize." He muttered, more to himself than to me. I looked up at him and saw the lines on his face, drawn out and exaggerated in the pale reflection of the headlights. I strained my body upward to kiss his cheek. He looked down at the same moment and our lips awkwardly bumped together.

We looked at each other for a second, and he smiled at me sweetly, my heart ached with foreign emotion, and a bit of surprise. It was completely unreal for Murdoc to not hate anyone. He was a cruel, heartless bastard of a man, to everyone but me that was. I smiled to myself; I guessed I really was special.

"I'm afraid that the Boogieman is going to find you. I don't want us to be separated." I said, my thoughts had been lingering on this topic for quite some time and now I confronted it. I could hear the bassist suppress a growl.

"I won' let 'em take me away from you." He said firmly. "I think there's some connection between me an' the Boogieman, somethin' tha' I can use agains' 'im. Now tha' I worked so 'ard to get you back do ya think I'm goin' to leave withou' a figh'?" he asked, smirking at me. I frowned at the smirk and he hastily backtracked into a full-fledged smile.

2D was hacking and coughing again and I turned to face him in the backseat. "Are you okay Stu?" I asked. The singer shook his head slowly, still coughing.

"No I don' fink so Noods. Me chest really 'urts." He said hoarsely. I raised an eyebrow and turned to Murdoc.

The Satanist wordlessly handed back his pack of cigarettes and the blue-haired man gratefully took them, lighting one up for himself. After a few steady drags a smile appeared on his face. "Fanks Muds." He said, sucking on the fag as if it were his life force.

Murdoc gave a stiff nod. "Can' 'ave you dyin' on me Face-Ache." He said simply. I closed my eyes and took in the chilly night air, noticing that 2D's coughing fit had been suppressed.

"You guys shouldn't smoke so much, it's bad for you." I said. Both of the men looked at me, before biting their lips to hold in their laughs and chuckles.

"Luv," 2D said, chortling a bit. "I don' fink it's gonna be the smoking fat does us in." he stated. Murdoc gave him a brief glare in the review mirror.

"Call 'er by 'er name Dullard." He snapped. Stuart held his hands up innocently.

"'Ey now, don' get all possessive. I've been callin' 'er luv befor' yew even go' the thought." He replied steadily. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, remaining silent. Murdoc's hand grasped mine and squeezed it.

"Shut yer face." The bassist muttered, I grinned into the dark as the Jeep sped up.