A/N:…Seriously? I have no idea where this came from.
Disclaimer: *sigh*…no…not mine…Darn…
Train could see no escape from the situation he found himself caught in. He pulled at Eve's hand desperately, urging her to move faster, doing his best to plaster her to his side until she stuck there. Inwardly, he was contemplating throwing her over his shoulder and dashing the hell home.
It was all Rinslet's fault, of course.
Everything had started just that morning, with one little tear in Eve's clothes…
"Eve, he's coming your way!" Sven called as their bounty rushed towards her. Eve formed wings on her arm quickly, shooting the razor-sharp feather projectiles towards the criminal. He fell immediately, covered in light scratches, but not fatally injured.
"Good job, princess!" Train cheered. Sven rushed over to the unconscious man, easily hefting him over his shoulder and dragging him to the car.
Rinslet, who had been watching from the sidelines with her gun ready, walked over to Eve, inspecting her seriously with a concerned expression. Seeing her worried look, Train jogged over to the two girls.
"What is it?" he asked. He turned to Eve. "Are you hurt, princess?"
"No," she replied, just as confused as he was.
"It's not that," Rinslet finally clarified. "You tore your dress, Eve."
"Oh…," Eve finally realized, staring at the rip in her sleeve where her wings had tore through.
"It seems like you tear a new hole in your clothes every time you fight. Do you actually have any clothes left?"
Eve contemplated this for a moment. "Ah. No," she finally answered. "Everything that's not ripped is too small."
Rinslet gasped, grabbing her arm. "I have some extra cash left over from my last job! I'm buying you a new wardrobe now! And not that kid stuff you used to wear! We're buying you some women clothes!"
Train froze, feeling a sense of dread. "What do you mean women clothes?" he asked, paling as he watched Rinslet grab Eve's arm. Eve blinked and furrowed her brow, puzzled.
"Oh, you know…short skirts, tube tops, low-cut necklines…," she answered. Train missed the mischievous, evil scheming glint in her eye.
"What?!" he yelled, alarm in his tone. "The little…" Train glanced at Eve. She was seventeen now, maybe not so little anymore. She had curves. Even more reason for her to never, ever wear anything even the least bit revealing. "Princess can't wear that kind of thing!"
"Oh? Do you want to come with us, Train? Hm?" she asked, pulling Eve closer to her like a hostage. Eve looked downright terrified, still not fully understanding her predicament.
In his mind's eye, Train could see exactly what this situation resembled. Him, decked out in black armor with his sword, Hades, and his precious, defenseless princess held within the grasp of an evil witch know as Madam Rinslet, destroyer of young girls' innocence and chastity.
Short skirts…tube tops…low-cut necklines...such clothing attracted men. Immoral, dirty men! No way would he let princess wear stuff like that!
"Jeez, Train, don't be so paranoid. Isn't that Sven's job?" Rinslet asked.
"Y-you're right!" Train stuttered. Relived in the knowledge that he had backup, he turned around to call to Eve's surrogate father. "Hey, Sven, come here and – wait, where the hell did he go?!" Sven, their bounty, and the car had all disappeared. Panic rose in Train's throat.
"He left to turn in the criminal some time ago, Train," Rinslet answered, ecstatic. "Guess it's up to you to help me shop for Eve!"
"Shop for her yourself! I'm not going into any girl clothing stores!"
Rinslet "hmph"-ed, irritated. "Fine then. Suit yourself. By the way, Eve…how about we get you some thongs?"
Something inside Train snapped.
"Fine, dammit! I'll go!"
And that's how it had happened. After searching several million shops for a few hundred hours, Rinslet had finally purchased something, dragged Eve into a changing room and forced it on her, running out of the shop like hell was on her heels. Eve had emerged seconds later, pulling at a hot pink dress timidly.
Train's jaw dropped in shock. The dress only went to the middle of her thighs and accentuated every curve that he hadn't even realized had developed so fully. And it was strapless.
After he finally came back to his sense, he realized every male in the store, dragged in by sisters or wives or girlfriends or mothers, six to sixty, was staring at her.
Train ran over to her, grabbed her hand and pulling her out of the store as quick as he could, intent on getting her home before any pedophiles decided to mess with her.
And here he was, half-leading, half-dragging her across the sidewalk, eyes darting back and forth frantically.
It seemed like every man walking by was staring at her with hungry eyes, waiting for him to drop his guard so they could attack. They were trying to steal his princess. He could imagine the forbidden thoughts swirling around in their minds.
Mostly because they were starting to form in his, too.
"Why are you in such a hurry?" Eve asked, exasperated. When Train didn't answer her she ripped her hand from his grasp, glaring up at him. "Train!"
"Look, it's not…I mean…," Train trailed off. He stared over Eve's shoulder, doing his very best not to look at her. Must. Resist! "I just…um…"
Eve frowned, and Train was almost sure he heard her growl. She grabbed his head and yanked his gaze towards her. "Look at me."
Train did as he was told. Even if Eve hadn't commanded him to, he would've anyway. How could he not? He looked at the hem of her skirt as it swirled freely around her with the slightest breeze, the way the dress hugged the curve of her hips, the exposed ivory skin of her shoulders…Train mentally slapped himself. Getting all hot and bothered over someone almost ten years younger than him, what kind of pervert was he?
But what he liked most, he decided, was the way the pink fabric brought out the color of her eyes. They glittered in the sunlight, angry and confused and big and glossy and…absolutely gorgeous.
Train groaned as he felt his cheeks start to heat up. "Aw, man…princess…," he whined, taking her hands off his cheeks and keeping a firm grip on them as he lead her into an alley, determined to get her away from the stares of passing men. Perverted men who stared at teenage girls. Perverted men like, well, him.
"What is it?" she asked, puzzled as he gently pushed her against a wall, casting panicked glances at the street, protectively trying to hide her petite frame from view with his bulkier form. She blushed at the lack of space between them, her face flaming when Train placed his hands on her shoulders. "Does it look that weird?"
"No, it looks…" Beautiful, wonderful, perfect, tempting… "…great, princess."
"Then what's wrong?" she asked, expression full of innocence. Train could hardly believe that after traveling with him and Sven for so long, she could still be so naïve. Of course, neither of them really wanted to talk to the girl about what really went on in a man's mind.
Train sighed and lifted his left hand from Eve's shoulder, running it through his unruly hair. "Because…" Damn, she was looking at him with those dazzling eyes again. He felt his willpower start to crack. "Because that dress makes guys wanna do stuff to you!"
"Stuff? Like what?" She tilted her head, her blonde hair brushing the hand he had on her shoulder. The touch sent shivers racing down his spine.
"Stuff like…like this!"
Before he knew it, Train had wrapped both his arms around her waist, pulling her off the wall and against his chest. His lips crashed down on hers, hard and demanding.
Train realized what he had done a moment too late. But he couldn't pull back now; her lips were too soft and warm. Electricity pulsed through him. He never wanted the feeling of Eve to go away.
Now that he had started, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop easily.
Eve was frozen with shock against him, but hesitantly she snaked her arms around his neck, kissing him back. Train let up a bit so the kiss was more loving than angry, bringing a hand up to caress her cheek, using his thumb to massage gentle circles into her skin. Eve toyed with the fringe of hair resting on the nape of his neck shyly. Sensing her timidity, he chuckled, pulling away but still holding her tightly and massaging her cheek.
He gazed at her with such love in his eyes that Eve blushed crimson, feeling like her heart would explode. She knew she was looking at him with just as much affection.
"Stuff like…that, huh?" Eve asked, breathless.
"Yeah…," he replied softly, bending down to press his lips to her forehead tenderly, letting himself linger there for a second. When he pulled back and looked into her eyes again, his expression was filled with amusement. "Stuff like that."
Eve smiled. "If it's Train," she said, failing to keep the admiration from her voice. "I don't think I mind stuff like that so much."
He grinned before stepping back, offering her his arm. She looped her arm through his and they strolled, arm in arm, back into the street. "When we get home," Train said as they walked, "If it's okay with you, I'm burning that dress."
Train glared at passing male pedestrians. "Meh. Too revealing. Makes too many guys turn their heads. Although…" Eve's face flushed as he studied her with a satisfied expression, looking her up and down. "…I can hardly blame them," he told her with a toothy grin.
"And besides, if I don't burn it, you know Sven will."
"That's…true. And I wonder what he'll do if I tell him about the 'stuff' we did?"
"Eh heh heh…I don't think we need to mention that to him anytime soon, princess."
A/N: Hm, the ending was kind of abrupt, and I admit the beginning might have been a little boring. Still, I sort of like it. To tell you the truth, this is my first time writing a kiss scene! *throws confetti* I just love Paranoid!Train getting all overprotective of Eve. Anyway, I'm working on the second chapter of Panic Room. It's almost done, but I can't bring myself to finish it because I don't really like it. Still, it'll be done…eventually.
If you have any tips or advice for me, please don't hesitate to let me know! I'm using fanfiction to develop my skills as a writer. Any help is much appreciated!