(no subject)
Sep. 9th, 2005 01:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mnt_mikeThe decision has been made. Mike doesn't like sleeping alone. Not at all. Not in the slightest. He misses Mel. He misses his bed. But one thing he does not miss is the pain in his arm. After a few miles of walking Mike had found his way towards a rest stop. After popping his shoulder back into joint, he attempted to make himself look a bit more normal. the bandana was removed and filled with the unnecessary padding and weapons that couldn't be concealed any other way. A bit of scrounge was all that was needed to find a branch long enough to make a Hobo Sack.
OH what a sight he made as he made his way along the break down lane en route towards New York. He waved at those who honked, and made pleasant conversation with a convertible full of beach fleeing girls stuck in drive time grid lock. Never let it be said that shameless firting will get no one anywhere. In Mike's case it got him both a ride to a hotel closer to the city, as well as the numbers of four rather cute girls who were all more than willing to help entertain him should he fail to make it back to the bar. Not that they actually believed such a place existed, but the way he smiled they'd have believed just about anything. Even that at one point he'd been a five foot turtle who fought a criminal ninja organization under the streets of New York.
He should be sleeping, but the bed is too big without her. Mike is exhausted from walking and stress, and yet every time he tries to close his eyes he sees Mel surrounded by tendrils of fire. He hears her screaming and his hand reaches out to touch the glass of his hotel room window.
Stepping away from the window, he moves towards the closed closet door. Raph's badge firmly in hand Mike opens the door, and is yet again disappointed to see nothing but empty hangers.
Fuck.
OH what a sight he made as he made his way along the break down lane en route towards New York. He waved at those who honked, and made pleasant conversation with a convertible full of beach fleeing girls stuck in drive time grid lock. Never let it be said that shameless firting will get no one anywhere. In Mike's case it got him both a ride to a hotel closer to the city, as well as the numbers of four rather cute girls who were all more than willing to help entertain him should he fail to make it back to the bar. Not that they actually believed such a place existed, but the way he smiled they'd have believed just about anything. Even that at one point he'd been a five foot turtle who fought a criminal ninja organization under the streets of New York.
He should be sleeping, but the bed is too big without her. Mike is exhausted from walking and stress, and yet every time he tries to close his eyes he sees Mel surrounded by tendrils of fire. He hears her screaming and his hand reaches out to touch the glass of his hotel room window.
Stepping away from the window, he moves towards the closed closet door. Raph's badge firmly in hand Mike opens the door, and is yet again disappointed to see nothing but empty hangers.
Fuck.
