Pretending to be the Iron Man

Chapter 1: Humidity in Pittsburgh

A purple tongue darted out between thick puffy lips. It probed the air for a mili second, surveying the atmosphere. Instead, the odd tongue zoomed back behind teeth as it's owner began to gasp. The overwhelming flavor of rain mauled his taste buds creating a gag reflex. He had never expected that so much wet and cold could be in any atmosphere any where. This shocking discovery pounded against his skull as he began to splutter.

"Man O'Malley, I'm drowning!" He coughed, his body shaking. 

Laura breathed out a "huff" of dismay. Her facial muscles had lifted up to show off her cruel mirth. A slim eyebrow ascended above her bronze bangs while the left corner of her mouth twitched upward. A smirk twinkled in her gold speckled eyes. Cheek bones tensed, jawbone shifted, and tongue licked the fronts of her teeth, all signaling her bemuesment. After a few seconds, she turned away from him with a roll of the eyes. 

"It's cahlled rain, honey" she stated, her back to him, "ya better get used to it." 

He looked up from his knees, breathing hard. Laura sauntered into the crowds of business men, reuniting families, and lone college students. Her head swiveled from side to side in search for a shuttle or taxi to take them into the city. While she did this people automatically cleared a path for her, allowing her stride to go unhindered. Her compainon observed how each thigh muscle tensed as her legs thrust her converse covered feet forward. Each skin cell on her leg had been tanned to an attractive bronze color. His eyes traveled from her red converse up past her shapely calves and tensing thigh muscles. After a second, his cheeks began to turn pink and he looked away from her heart shaped butt.

Straightening up, his face still a slight shade of pink, he hurried after her. Unfortunately, the crowd didn't part for him the way they did for her. Two giant army duffle bags chaffed his thighs and nudged others. He began muttering soft "excues me"s and "sorry"s. Toddlers screeched in delight chasing one another and sprinting right in front of his legs. However, after a week of struggling with Laura Kerr's wake, he had grown accustumed to manauvering the crowds. 

Side stepping a gaggle of college students in sweatpants, he began to sniff the air. Again, the scent of rain swarmed his senses like a host of knights stampeding a sacked city. However this time, he was prepared for the moisture. Despite the overwhelming presence of Pittsburgh's humidity problem, he slowly began to sense other things. Of course there was the obvious smell of lethar briefcases, sickly children, windex floor cleaner, and the ominous stench of an airport, but he could also sniff things under the surface. Fatigue had been delicately interwoven with all the other aromas. Faminshed feelings skipped from suitcase to suitcase and there was a strong scent of annoyance. Cold clamy sweat gave away the "I'm ok, let's keep going" facade and he could guess what almost everyone truly felt.

"C'mon, slow poke," Laura called back to him. His blush deepened as he lowered his nose from the air. He had forgotten they were on a tight schedule and, besides, he could sniff out the Pittsburgh atmosphere later. Laura stood next to a taxi, one hand resting on the handle of her plastic, fuschia suitcase the other on a cocked hip. If it was considered unnatural to wear khaki booty shorts, a peach tank-top, and big movie-star sunglasses in the middle of Pittsburgh's March season, Laura didn't seem to care. As her companion struggled to slide through the crowd, she pulled her iPhone 4O.S. and ignored the stares. 

He smiled to himself. Traveling with Laura Kerr had taught that 1) a girl without a cell phone was like a lizard without scales, 2) make-up doesn't make a girl beautiful but 4) without it a she is has self esteem issues, 5) if you're not fast enough get faster, 6) it's always your fault with women, and 7) making fandom references is the easiest way to get laid. Not that he, himself had slept with the narcotically beautiful Laura Kerr, but knew that many an ex-boyfriend had slipped back between her frielndly sheets that way. He still felt awkward, thinking of how she had no embarresment him sleeping on the couch as she became "reunited" with "an old friend." It still brought a rotting lemon flavor to his purple tongue.

All the same, he quickened his pace so as to please the eighteen year old. Over and over in his mind he reminded himself that Laura Kerr was way to old for him. One the other side, 13 year old girls wanted to marry 20 year old One Direction, but there's a difference between a celeberty crush and a woman right in front of you. Or was there?

Standing next to Laura, breathing hard, he looked up to her with livid green eyes waiting. A moment passed as Laura texted with one pristinely manicurred hand. A wan smile crossed her face and a puff of air escaped her nostrils. The emotion she was experiencing was a slight humor. At what or why, her companion could not say. Then she looked at him with brown and gold eyes.

"What do ya want?" She asked him, except when she said it "want" it sounded more like "won". Signs of a southern accent comforted him, despite them being in scorn. Her mouth puckered in a slight sneer and her eyebrows delicately crinkled together. Her eyes demanded an answer from her companion, but he just shrugged his shoulders. Another "humph" noice escaped her throat as she turned away. Her bronze curls flounced and shimmered through the air. "C'mon, honey," She sighed, "Tell me what you want."

"I'd like to go get settled in," he offered, a hopeful smile crossing his face. "And maybe eat something like," he paused to think, "fried okra. Yeah some okra would be good right now."

Lithe fingers gripped his chin and forced his head up. The strength in Laura's hand was only trumped by her gorgeous eyes. "This is the east coast, honey," she explained with a menacing smile, "We don't have fried okra."

Her fingers released his chin as she turned around. The taxi driver came out of the car with a forced smile. Laura waved him off, insisting she could take care of herself, and began to shove her suitcase into the trunk. The driver stood uselessly by her side just like her companion.

"So where yinz headed?" The driver asked nonchalantly.

"Mt. Moriah's Boarding School," Laura replied from deep within the trunk.

The driver nodded before turning around and getting back into the car. Laura's companion gawked slightly. The driver had engaged in conversation then left it cold. He looked back to to Laura, who was beginning to remerge. It was a strange place he had come to.

"Well stop starin'," Laura comanded annoyed. He only smiled apologetically at her before shuffling to the end of the taxi to rearrange her suitcase with his stuff. He could hear her walk around the tail of the car and open the back seat door. He felt the car shift as she sat down. Then he imagined her bringing her phone back out into the open.

Once finished loading the trunk, he unbent his back and opened a door to the back seat. Laura had her iPhone out. He smilied at her predicatbility. Then he frowned, while crawling into the car.

"Ya'll shouldn't be so predictable," he whispered to her once the door was closed.

Laura snorted and gave him a disdainful look. "How do you think we found ya?" She sneered at hi, before going back to her phone. He had nothing to say to that. 

"Yinz ready?" the driver inquired with his slackjawed, pittsburghese accent.

"Yeah," Laura's companion replied instantly, "Let's get away from here."

The driver nodded, putting the cab into drive. The engines roared and the tires began to spin. Laura's companion looked out the rearview window. He watched as the Pittsburgh airport began to shrink in the distance, and with it, any chance to return home. 

"Laura," he said, "I don't think we're in Kansas any more."

"How d'ya know my name?" Laura turned to her companion confused.

"It's on your suitcase, and all those fella's ya met called you Laura," he replied with a shrug, turning away from the back window. 

Laura nodded, "Smart man. So what's ya'll's name?"

"Tony," he said with a smile. "Tony Venator"