⁀➷

Once they arrived at Ben's room and heard noises, they attempted to open the door but it wouldn't budge. Reed bent down and slid his hand under, extending himself in order to unlock the door. By the time they got in, there was a large hole in the wall, and Ben was gone.

Reed, Sue, Dorothy, and Johnny were in a taxi cab, on their way to Ben and Debbie's apartment. Dorothy was squeezed in between Sue and Johnny, shoving uncomfortably from time to time.

"You know, offer to sit on my lap still stands," Johnny teased.

Dorothy rolled her eyes. "No, Johnny."

The car slowed down to a stop.

"What's going on?" Dorothy questioned.

There were multiple cars stopping in the middle of the bridge. Reed got out of the car first, and the rest followed after him. There was a crowd forming in the middle of the bridge.

"What do we do now?" Sue questioned.

Reed shook his head. "We're not going to get past these guys."

"I can," said Dorothy. "Hello, everyone!" she called out. "Move it or lose it! Move, move, move!"

The crowd parted for them on command.

"Handy," commented Johnny.

"I'm sure you'd like a hand," she retorted.

"Is that an offer?"

"Always on the table, isn't it?"

"MUM?" a little girl with ponytails shouted from behind one of the cars.

Johnny immediately ran toward the voice of the little girl.

"Johnny!" Dorothy exclaimed.

The cars around her were about to blow up. Johnny grabbed the girl, hugging her to his chest in order to block her from the incoming flames. The cars combusted, rushing against Johnny's body.

He released the girl once the fire disappeared. The fire didn't harm him at all. Dorothy let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps, she did hold onto some past feelings for Johnny, but she knew it couldn't be anything more than sex.

"Did you see that?" Johnny breathed out.

"Yes, and it was stupid. You could have died," Dorothy stated.

"Are you worried about me?" he teased.

"Of course, I was. I'm a worrier, you know that. Just like how I'm worried about Ben, as well, so don't go getting any ideas on your head."

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Got it, kitty cat."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm a scratcher too. I get it. Do you have to still call me that?"

"Hey, my back has the scratches to prove it, so as long as those bad boys stay, the nickname does too."

"Should I call you erectile dysfunction then?"

"Hey, you know that's not true!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah, I'm just pulling you. Come on."