The purr of the old, beat up Jeep going down the dusty highway seemed to be the only sound about in the ever so silent desert. There wasn't a thing in sight for miles except for the cream colored off roading vehicle and the orange cloud of dust that followed it.

Do you remember the twenty first night of September?

Love was changing the winds of pretenders

While chasing the clouds away

"Oh shoot! This is my song, Lance!" Osamu said from behind the wheel. His right hand let go of the leather steering wheel to turn up the volume of the radio. Now, the sound of the radio was loud enough to compete with the roaring engine.

At the other end of the Jeep, on the passenger side, perched Lance. His head was leaned back on the headrest of the seat, legs prudly spread out over the floorboard. One hand was rested on the door over the rolled down window and the other held a fan that gave Lance another stream of air. Even though his shirt was unbuttoned all the way down and he had rolled his dress pants up, he was still sweating profusely enough that it looked like he was making his own bath.

Our hearts were ringing

In that key our souls were singing

As we danced the night away

Remember how the stars stole the night away

On the other hand, Osamu looked quite content in the extreme heat that seemed to smother Lance. He wore a white undershirt and some long jeans, but he didn't seem to be bothered at all. He bobbed his head side to side with a dimpled smile as he hummed along (very obnoxiously, according to Lance) to the song on the radio.

Their slightly long, layered hair ruffled in the wind as Osamu trailed down the old road. Lance's light, toe-head hair stayed plastered to his forehead because of all the amounts of sweat he was producing, while lucky Osamu's thick, black, fluffy hair danced to the wind around.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Ba de ya~!! Say do you remember! Ba de ya~!! Dancing in September!" Osamu suddenly cried out like a banshee. Although perfectly in time with the music, not so much on pitch.

At the other side of the prison of a Jeep, Lance turned his head to glare at Osamu. There was absolutely no way he'd last much longer like this, he already hated the song and Osamu wailing gracefully as an ambulance nearly sent him into a murderous rampage. "..I think this is a good place."

"Ba de ya~!! Never was a cloudy day~!!!"

Lance roared at the top of his lungs to which Osamu jumped.

"What?! What!?"

"Stop here."

Osamu gave Lance a happy nod and then slowed down the Jeep to a stop.

The engine promptly cut off when Osamu twisted the key in the ignition and pulled them out, and stuffing them into his pocket. As he did so, his eyes stayed fixed on the horizon ahead. The sun, though still fairly high in the sky, was setting as it was about five in the afternoon.

"Hm, the sun is setting..." Osamu commented.

"Indeed. And when it does, it will get very cold." Lance added, to which Osamu peeled his eyes away to look at him.

"Did you bring blankets?"

Lance nodded. "Of course, because I knew you'd forget them."

"I just couldn't live without you, angel." Osamu sweetly uttered to Lance.

"Likewise." he spat back and then turned to hop out of the Jeep that was softly ticking from the heat expansion.

The two men walked to the back of the vehicle, Osamu opening up the tailgate to reveal a certain woman with short stature and wild, blonde hair. She was handcuffed to the headrest of Lance's seat, her eyes barely opened as she rambled nonsense to herself.

"Mama... Mommy... Jessica...."

"Damn, that stuff really did a number on her, do you think she'll be okay?" Osamu asked as he crawled into the truck and unlocked one of her cuffs.

"It doesn't really matter, Osamu. I gave her sedative at the airport so we wouldn't have any trouble with her on the way out here, and plus, we don't want her repeating stories to random people anyway. So no, I wasn't really measuring."

Osamu blinked a few times and nodded, picking up Marcy in his arms and scooting out of the Jeep and onto the desert ground. "You're probably right..."

Lance only gave a hum of acknowledgement as he strolled past Osamu to shut the tailgate while the taller carried Marcy out into the desert.

The dark haired man went out about twenty feet from the truck and then crouched on the sand to set down the frail woman, light as a feather as she continued to mumble her nonsense.

"Mama, I'm just crazy about him... His blond hair is so soft..."

Osamu lifted up from the poor soul, a terrible guilt weighing down on his carefree heart.

"His eyes..." Marcy mumbled and then frowned as she curled into herself, probably feeling the chill of the sun hiding under the horizon. "Cold."

When Osamu turned to the truck, Lance was in the passenger shut with the door open, facing Osamu. His legs dangled out of the side as he blew a puff of smoke into the air towards Osamu, a blank look in his eyes.

"You'll feel better knowing she's gone." he said flatly.

"I guess..." Osamu replied and then peeked behind his shoulder at the lump in the middle of the desert. He watched it twitch a few times and then turned back to Lance. "Lovely? Can you light me one?"

To that, Lance dove back into the truck and pulled out a cigarette and a lighter, popping the stick into Osamu's mouth. He then brought up the lighter to both of the sticks, setting them both aflame.

After Lance was done and put the lighter away on the dashboard of the truck, Osamu pulled away to let out a slow stream of smoke from his nostrils. He blinked slowly and crossed his arms, turning his head once more to look at the blonde haired blob in the distance.

"You're wasting your smoke." Lance finally said in the silence as the chilly wind picked up.

Osamu turned back to Lance and looked down at his crossed arms, the cigarette giving off a steady stream of smoke in the air and disappearing into nothing. "Sorry."

"..Let's go. I'll give you a blanket when you get in."

Osamu gave a silent nod and began walking to the driver's side of the Jeep as Lance drew his legs inside the truck and shut his door, rolling the window up to insulate whatever heat was left in the old truck.

As he said before, when Osamu hopped in the driver's seat, Lance handed him a Navajo-style blanket, to which Osamu quickly bundled himself up in. When he got himself all comfy, he turned to Lance, who had only buttoned up his shirt and rolled down his dress pants.

"Aren't you cold, baby?" Osamu asked, sucking on his tobacco stick afterward to try and warm himself up more.

"No. Not yet anyway." the blue-eyed boy replied as he set his hands in his lap, crossing his legs over them. "Drive, please."

In response, Osamu just shrugged and jabbed the car key into the ignition of the Jeep, it sputtering to a start. He let it warm up for a little bit since it was old and the temperature had dropped so quickly. However, the longer the truck sat on the desert sand, the more and more uneasy Osamu felt about the whole thing.

After Marcy became corrupt in the head, it was no longer fun to play around with her. It plain felt wrong. It felt much more wrong than abducting her and holding her captive. It was like raping an autistic child. Who in their right mind would do that? But the more Osamu thought about it, he knew dumping her out in the middle of Arizona was even more wrong than that.

Osamu threw off the warm comfort of the blanket and opened up his door, springing out of the Jeep.

"I can't do this. This is wrong, Lance, wrong."

"What..?"

The fluffy haired man ran out of the cream colored truck, through the dust, and to the shivering woman in the sand. He swiftly hoisted her up into his arms, her weak body lying limp. Some of the limbs that spilled out of Osamu's grip dangled in the wind below her as she was carried to the safety of the Jeep.

Back twisted and one arm resting on the seat, Lance silently watched Osamu caringly set the shivering pest down on the bed of the truck and wrap her up in one of the blankets brought for the two of them. Though he would never show it, he was livid. Absolutely livid.

When Osamu got back in the driver's seat, Lance's eyes gripped him like a hawk's talons. His body was as still as a lake.

"I'm sorry, baby. I just couldn't--"

"-I cannot believe we wasted time, money, and precious fuel to come all the way out here so you could say 'you just couldn't.'" Lance growled lowly as he always did when he was raging.

"I'm sorry!" Osamu whined.

"Drive. I can't even look at you." Lance said and then turned his head the opposite way, looking out the window, watching the tumbleweeds go by as Osamu drove off out of the desert, just as Lance told him to.