markcat:

likeastairmaster:

for markcat and jasonreitman, who wanted to see this.

Some day, they’ll go down together
They’ll bury them side by side
To a few, it’ll be grief
To the law, a relief
But it’s death for Bonnie and Clyde.

Andrew wakes up, his ribs ache and there is a throbbing in the knuckles of his right hand that reminds him how idiotic it was to have punched that security guard the night before, it was reckless and it’ll make driving one handed nearly impossible. But he can’t regret the crunch of the man’s jaw and how he had fallen back, eating his words; or the contemplating look on Emma’s face and the edge of a smirk on her lips.

He sits upright slowly, cradling his arm over his ribs as he tries to keep from pulling something. Beneath the bandages his skin is sure to be black and blue. It takes a moment more for Andrew to open his eyes. It’s dim in the seedy hotel, and smokey; the strong scent of cigarette smoke hanging in the air and there’s an ash tray on the window sill nearly filled with ash and stubs.

“Em?”

Emma turns her head from the window, pushing the blinds aside to let more light in and he can see her, back-lit by the sunrise and with a cigarette glowing between her fingers. Her make-up is smeared creating dark circles under her eyes, and her lips are red from bruising kisses instead of lipstick.

“We’re going to set this world ablaze, Andrew,” she says, reaching down to rest her cigarette on the side of the ashtray. Her fingers twitch with and itch for something, a familiar motion that could mean she wants a gun or a knife or another cigarette, but she drags them through her hair. Twisting her newly-dyed dark hair around and pulling it over her shoulder. There’s a beat, and Andrew watches Emma while Emma stares out the window.

Then she turns toward him fully, and there’s a hardness in her eyes as she says, “But first, we’ll take it for all it’s got.”