FicWad

A/N: Whoot! I've been on a bit of an Ollie/Kevin role if you guys haven't noticed, so here's another installment with those two. This is set much earlier before the others with these guys in 'em, so keep in mind that Kevin hasn't met her yet.

Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to "Freak Me Out".

Song Used: Weezer's "Freak Me Out"


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nineteen: Freak Me Out
Puppet: Paul Jonas Jr.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

City streets at night,
Can be so intimidating,
I'm not the toughest guy,
I gotta keep my eyes open,
You came out of nowhere...

How did I end up out here on a night like this?

Normally, I knew my way around these streets, but everything looked so different in the dark. It was hard to look at the forbidding shadow created by the street lamp by the familiar bus stop the same way I did when it was light outside. It was tough to wander by the same alleys and not think I saw something move just out of the corner of my eye.

I knew I should've kept a closer eye on the fuel gage. I knew I shouldn't have even wandered this far off the beaten path just to go to a friend's house. I had been so wrapped up in making sure I knew exactly where I was, I had forgotten to check to make sure I had enough gas to take me home. My poor Mustang had begun to putter out just as I was coming into home territory.

It was times like these that I was glad that I didn't drink. If I did, I would've been in more trouble than I already was.

I glanced cautiously over my shoulder, making sure that my car was still right where I left it a few seconds ago. A pair of darkened headlights seemed to stare back at me through dead eyes, and with a shiver of dread I quickly looked forward again. Even after all this time living here, I had never liked wandering around in the dark. This was Jersey; not particularly the safest place in the world to go out for a midnight stroll.

I kept my eyes peeled closely for any signs of movement and listened closely for even the lightest of footsteps behind me, hands shoved in my pockets in an attempt to keep my nervous fingers from twitching. I was certainly not a fighter, so I could only hope that I could make it to a gas station without any trouble and, if I couldn't, I could detect the threat before it could do any real damage and run like the Devil.

Something in a nearby alley crashed over and a cat's furious yowl echoed shrilly off the rough brick walls.

I froze and crouched, hands no longer hidden and eyes darting wildly from side to side as I tried desperately to figure out who or what had caused the disturbance. A raccoon, hopefully? Another cat? Maybe a coyote?

Or maybe it was some homeless guy accidentally bumping into something. Maybe he was just asleep and had rolled over. Maybe he was just looking for something. Maybe I startled him. Maybe he heard me coming...

So focused on the task of figuring out what had caused the noise that I was completely unprepared for something totally different.

Man you really freak me out,
I'm so afraid of you,
And when I lose my cool,
I don't know what to do,
I know you don't mean no harm,
You're just doing your thing,
But man, you really freak me out...

“S'matter with your car?”

With a yelp of nothing but pure adrenaline I took a feeble swing at my 'attacker' just before I jumped back and away from them, setting what I was sure was a new record for both the longest and highest backward leap. My heart was beating like a jackhammer, and it took me a moment to be able to stop listening to it long enough to get a good look at the person who had so unceremoniously addressed me.

Panting and with a tiniest bit of a cold sweat beading on my brow, I squinted hard at them. I had hit them, I was startled to realize; they had staggered backward a few steps while emitting a soft, surprised grunt and now had one hand up against their face. It was hard to see much in the dark and I couldn't say what color hair or eyes they had, but from what I could tell...

My blood suddenly ran cold. It was a girl.

I'd broken the golden rule. I'd struck a woman.

“I'm sorry!” I squeaked, wishing I could just run back to my car so I could sleep in it for the night and get gas in the morning, that way I could pretend none of this had ever even happened, “I didn't mean to actually hit you!”

To my astonishment, the girl started laughing. “The Hell you didn't!”

What did this strange mistress of the dark want? Surely if she wanted to rob me she would've done it by now. Was that an angry reply? Every one of my instincts were running rampant, some of them telling me to stand my ground because they didn't sense a threat yet, while others screaming at me to just turn around and sprint as far away as I possibly could before she became a threat.

Which one was right? What was I supposed to do?

“What's the matter with your car?” She repeated.

I figured there wasn't much harm in answering, though my senses were still scattered and I really wasn't in a wonderful position to speak. “Um...ran out of gas.”

An awkward silence followed, and for half a second I was sure that my edgy mind had only imagined the presence of the odd girl. But her voice cut through the air again. “Lucky for you there's a gas station nearby. Know where it is, or do ya' want me to show you?”

Show me? Was she crazy? You didn't just walk about to random people in the dark and ask if they wanted your help!

Did I hurt you?
Are you okay?
Can I buy you a drink?
Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ahhhhh,
What's the world coming to?

Though every part of me wanted to tell her that I was perfectly capable of taking care of myself and walk off in a hurry, one major thing made me stay; guilt. I'd hit her. The least I could do was be polite.

And she seemed friendly enough. Maybe I could trust her, at least for a little while. I probably could under normal circumstances, but I was so scattered right now, I wasn't sure if I could find said gas station on my own.

And it might be nice to have another person with me, regardless of how odd she was. It was better to move in pairs in the dark, anyhow.

“I...I guess I could use some help...” I admitted slowly, anxiously rubbing the back of my neck to find that a cold sweat was making my curls stick to my skin. It was hard enough to talk to some random stranger on the street, much less one that you couldn't see thanks to the absence of the sun.

“Nice,” she said, sounding satisfied, “this way.”

She walked past me, keeping her distance on the narrow sidewalk. Dumbly I ambled after her, remaining behind her so I could watch her. She shot a look over her shoulder once, chuckled as if she found something amusing, and then kept moving.

How much weirder could this be? Once more I found myself squinting at her, curiosity pricking at my insides.

Her silhouette was slim, but it was obvious that she was not simply skin and bones. She seemed to have a jacket on, too, despite the fact that it really wasn't all that cold out. Those two factors made it likely that she wasn't a hobo, so what was she doing out here? It wasn't like it was normal for people to wander around at night and talk to strangers with car trouble.

Unless she wanted something else.

I pushed my hand into my pocket and absently felt around to make sure my wallet was still there, wondering if maybe she was a pickpocket and had stolen it when she moved past.

Nope. The smooth leather of the object was still there. I could still pay for gas.

“Hey,” I finally found the courage to try and talk to the stranger, lengthening my stride so I could walk beside her, my hand still safely guarding my wallet, “I didn't hurt you at all, did I? When I hit you, I mean.”

She chuckled. “Don't flatter yourself, man.”

“Oh.”

Man you really freak me out,
I'm so afraid of you,
And when I lose my cool,
I don't know what to do,
I know you don't mean no harm,
You're just doing your thing,
But man, you really freak me out...

We continued to walk down the shadow-clad street in absolute silence which, had it been any other time, would've been perfectly all right with me. As much as I wanted to just relax and let the companionship of another human being chase away the shivers of fright I'd been having, it was too new of a scenario for me to not be a little edgy. So she wasn't a hobo and she wasn't a thief; what could she possibly want?

Was she some sort of sick ax murderer who liked to lure her victims into a false sense of security before...?

Was she even taking me in the right direction?

When we finally arrived at the station, I couldn't have been more surprised to see the girl's face illuminated in the dull light of the signs advertising the place. I knew her! I'd seen her on campus before. She had hair as red as flame and bright green eyes that made me think that perhaps she was constantly daydreaming, along with a face that had been carefully carved and chiseled to the point that it didn't seem to belong with the rest of us. Like Artemis, the Greek goddess of the hunt. Or maybe like a lady knight, being a pretty creature who chose to hide it all underneath a suit of armor and a flashing sword.

Beautiful, but dangerous.

I'm going to try to improve my manners,
Everyone, yes everyone is my friend...

The sleepy-eyed storekeeper jumped awake as soon as the door opened and the two of us entered, and for a moment I saw the fear that had most assuredly flicker in my eyes when she had appeared light someone else's gaze. However, the fright was quickly replaced with a friendly smile that told me the rugged young man knew her much better than I did. “Hey, Rocket!”

The girl tipped an imaginary hat to him and sauntered over to the counter, her steps and gestures dripping with an almost masculine confidence. “Hi, Shane,” she greeted, “you got screwed with the night shift again, huh?”

“Yeah. Boring as Hell, let me tell you.”

She waved her hand airily as if it didn't matter to her. “Listen, my buddy here needs some fuel to get him home,” she explained rather business-like, gesturing over her shoulder at me, “ya' got a container we could borrow?”

She was so good-natured that I felt horrible. I resolved to be nicer to strangers right then and there.

City streets at night,
City streets at night,
'Till the morning light,
City streets at night...

Shane did have a container and he did let us borrow it. After filling up the small plastic tank that wouldn't last me long but long enough to get home, I started to take out my wallet, but before I could the girl, who seemed to go by Rocket, had beaten me to it. She even was about to carry the stupid thing, but I refused to let her.

“Suit yourself,” she said with a shrug, an amused smile tugging at the corners of her lips, “either way, I gotta make sure no muggers show ya' what a real fight looks like.”

I shuddered, wondering how she could stand to even think about joking about that. Pathetic as it may have been, it had always been a fear of mine that I would get jumped by a gang or something and end up laying flat on my back, broken and bruised, in the cold, lonesome dark. Or worse, being a body the police ended up dragging out of the alleyway the next morning.

And yet, I still wasn't sure if I was comforted or nervous as she quietly followed me back to my car. She didn't seem to talk much but lacked the qualities of a shy woman, and I was left to only speculate as to why she seemed to at ease and yet so silent. Something wasn't quite right about it.

We arrived back at my car without a word having passed between us. I placed the tank down on the sidewalk and blinked awkwardly at her, not quite sure what to say. I suppose I should've thanked her, but a simply 'thanks' really didn't seem to cut it. I didn't even know her real name, and here she had paid for my gas and hovered over my shoulder like a overprotective bodyguard.

“Um...thanks a lot for your help.” I mumbled finally, managing a lopsided smile.

Once again her hand waved through the air. “No problem, man,” she drawled, “not like I have anywhere important I need to be.”

Except, ya' know, at home? Sleeping?

“Well...unh...” I had no idea what to say, so I stuck out my hand, “I'm Kevin Jonas, by the way.”

She nodded, her confident smirk foiling my nervous grin to such an extent that it sent shivers down my spine. “I know,” she replied, taking my hand in a firm grip and shaking it, “Ollie Rokit.”

I swallowed hard. Ollie Rokit, mistress of the shadows.

Man you really freak me out,
I'm so afraid of you,
And when I lose my cool,
I don't know what to do,
I know you don't mean no harm,
You're just doing your thing,
But man, you really freak me out.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I wasn't sure if I was going to enjoy writing this one when I started, but it got much better throughout the course of the story. I really liked Ollie's dialogue and am really happy to say that I think I'm seeing improvement in that particular area. Weezer rocks. Peace out.