AN: I have never been to most of these cities or the surrounding country side. I doubt my descriptions are entirely accurate. I'm okay with that. LOL Feedback?! :) inspiredthoughts@hotmail.com *************************** Curiosity Killed: Chapter Twenty ********************** I wake up to cold. I blink wearily and growl at the sunlight, covering my eyes and trying to go back to sleep. "Are you awake yet child?" Bad Kevin. "No." He jiggles me experimentally. I consider that. Crap, I'm being carried. I shoot halfway out of the blankets, cursing all the while, as Kevin the creep laughs and struggles to keep hold of me. "Hold still," he reprimands primly, "do you WANT me to drop you?" "Drop in bed?" I ask hopefully and shiver some more, even through my long sleeved shirt and pajama pants. "Drop in bus," he amends, imitating me with a smirk I find much more annoying when I've just gotten up. "Who's?" I demand, not really caring why oh so proper Kevin is actually carrying me to the bus instead of dragging me, but wondering who I was going to have to steal a bunk from on their bus instead. Sleep, a girl has got to have priorities. "Does it matter?" "Are you an ass?" "Language," he warns, though he still sounds sickeningly cheerful. I growl. "Piss, ass, screw, crap, shit, damn... OW!" I glare up from my new posistion on the ground in a tumble of blankets, blonde bangs sticking straight up. Kevin glares down, definitely less cheerful. "Girlfriends have a certain image to maintain Catherine. You will start watching your language and behavior." Okay, who made HIM god? He's gone from moody, to seductive, to caring, to authoritative over the span of, well, this is my fourth day in Backstreet Land. Just jolly great. I really do think he needs anti psychotic medication. I flip him off rudely and proceed to wrap myself in the strewn blankets. "Cold," I mutter darkly. I don't have a very good cold tolerance, if you hadn't noticed, and I get sick easily. Stephen and Dracula take care of me. They don't dump me on the pavement of hotel parking lots as the sun is rising. Once I'm sufficiently bundled I return my fickle attention to Kevin, or Kevin's foot, which is tapping. Definitely much less than cheerful now. More annoyed really. What can I say, it's a gift. "I'm going to count to three, and at the count of three, you will be standing and willing to walk on your own two feet to the buses." Oh goody, a challenge. "One..." I study my nails with interest. "Two..." My cuticles are a mess! "Catherine..." I really need a manicure. He sounds resigned, and pissed, when he finally says, "Three." I shriek as strong hands neatly rip my blankets away and yank me to my feet. Before I can blink again we're in front of a bus that I assume is Kevin's and he's managed to work himself into a nice rage. "You need to learn a lesson young lady." Okay, someone has father issues; can we say Nick? "Tardiness is unacceptable. When you're late you cause this entire tour to be delayed and that is NOT tolerated. You need to learn some gratitude for the buses so, you're walking." Okay, it's WAY too damn early for this. "Excuse me? You want me to walk to the next city?" Kevin looks incredibly pleased with himself. "Yes, I do, and you will. We're on the outskirts of town and it's a nice lonely stretch of interstate the entire way. And don't even THINK about any mischief or our agreement about no immediate seducing goes right out the proverbial window. Just to make sure though, the bus is going to drive with you." "Oh and that won't make you late?" I demand. "We were supposed to have some down time before the show. I'll send the others on so they can get some relaxation in. Making sure you understand your place is much more important to me." I stare at my evil captor in disgust. "Do you have ANY idea how much I hate you right now?" ************************************************************************************ So, here I am, walking along the shoulder of an almost deserted highway in Minnesota. Minnesota! People don't drive in Minnesota, let alone walk through it. I'm walking to Des Moines. Iowa. What the hell is in Iowa?! "I hate Kevin Richardson," I mutter as I pause to kick a rock on the side of the road. Its cold, freezing actually, well not literally but freezing for me, and I'm STILL dressed in my pajamas because Kevin thinks he needs to prove a point. I glare at the silver bus that is coasting gently alongside me in the right hand lane. "Bastard... Hate him... Dumb Pants... Asshole..." Good thing it's a long road to Des Moines, I have a LOT of names to call my so-called significant other. Let's start with 'dead,' as in, REALLY dead, and move on from there. ************************************************************************************ About four miles and ten frozen toes later, Kevin sticks his head outside the bus window. "Have you learned your lesson?" he asks sweetly. I grin, bearing my short canines. "Piss off." He sighs, "Suit yourself Catherine. Its your choice." I continue walking, mumbling all the while, "Prick... Arrogant sleeze... Bloodsucking criminal.." ************************************************************************************ Ten miles from our starting point, and several hours later, he sticks his head out once again. I consider trying to cut it off as I blink wearily and try not to stumble. My thigh hurts like hell. Walking ten miles on a big bad flesh wound, not so smart. "Catherine, are you ready to grow up a little?" I blow a very loud, very wet, raspberry. He looks satisfying offended and retreats once again. ************************************************************************************ By mile fifteen, my feet are dragging and I'm dying of thirst but not ready to admit defeat. I'm a Cat; I have my pride. "Cat, child, will you end this, please?" I glare stubbornly at Kevin and keep on walking, silent in my defiance. I'm too parched to speak. But still cold! ************************************************************************************ Mile eighteen is apparently my limit because that's when I fall down. I don't really remember it. One minute I'm plodding forward determinedly, one scuffed slipper in front of the other, and the next I open my closed eyes to find a rather concern Vampire placing a wet towel on my brow as he checks my pulse. "Are you all right?" he asks, sounding a cross between worried, exasperated, and proud. Screw him. My eyes close before I can articulate that very heart-felt remark though and I can't seem to open them. So I sleep instead, content that I've proven MY point. I just don't quite remember what that is right now though.