(no subject)
Title: Bad Habits
Characters: T-Bag/Other
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Swearing
Author's notes: Almost a drabble really except it's too long to be a drabble. I didn't spend a lot of time on this one, but I enjoy it!
T-Bag had been driving non-stop for five hours when he finally decided that he needed to take a break. It was getting dark and he was having trouble keeping his eyes open from lack of sleep. He needed a coffee. He needed something else too. He couldn’t stop thinking about it.
He had seen four police cars during his journey; the sight of each one making his heart ache with anxiety. Somehow he’d managed to stay between the lines of the road and not run into any ditches. But he was so tired.
The stolen SUV was dangerously low on gas and needed to be filled. Unfortunantly, it wouldn’t be too much longer until he would have to ditch the car for another one, and he wasn’t looking forward to that. Not only would he risk being caught stealing another car, but he would no longer have the use of that convenient On Star system. T-Bag pulled into the next gas station he saw.
This is it, he thought to himself. I’m officially in butt-fuck nowhere.
Right across from the tiny gas station stood a shifty looking pub. Country music floated out across the parking lot.
Delirious, he opened the door and stepped out. Every bone in his body ached. His mangled hand throbbed angrily, but he was pretty sure if he took any more of those pain killers the doctor had given him that he might overdose. The wallet he’d taken from Dr. Gudat contained only a small amount of cash to fill up the SUV and maybe, if he could spare the change, enough to get something to eat. He couldn’t use the doctor’s credit cards, they all had his bloody picture plastered on the front.
As he pumped fifty dollars worth of gas into the SUV he suddenly realized how jittery he was. There was something he was craving for, badly. Something that he hadn’t had since before he landed in Fox River. Just another one of Theodore Bagwell’s bad habits.
As he headed inside to pay for the gas, he saw a solution to his problem right away. Sitting on the steps outside the pub sat a young woman smoking a cigarette. She was maybe seventeen or eighteen, with curly brown hair. She took a long drag from her cigarette as she watched Teddy approach her.
He sat down next to her on the steps, contemplating his next move.
The girl stared at him.
“Can I help you?”
T-Bag rolled his tongue across his lips and grinned. “That depends.”
The girl smiled slightly, and took another drag from her cigarette. “On what?” she asked.
T-Bag said nothing, but reached out and caught her wrist with his right hand. She froze in fear, unable to pull away from him.
Gently, T-Bag pushed his hand into hers, entwining his fingers with hers until her cigarette was essentially being held by both of them. He stared at her intently with his striking blue eyes. There was a look of dread overcoming the young woman’s face.
“You got somethin’ I need.” T-Bag whispered.
The girl swallowed.
T-Bag nodded at the cigarette they were both holding. The young woman looked confused for a moment, and then realized what he was getting at. She allowed him to slowly pull the cigarette from her fingers.
T-Bag slowly raised the cigarette to his lips, his eyes still locked on hers. He inhaled the smoke into his mouth, savouring the taste and the sensation of calm that it brought.
Instantly gratified, T-Bag allowed the smoke to drift out across his lips in rapture. T-Bag wasn’t a regular smoker by any means, but he knew he looked good doing it.
The teenager watched him, mesmorized.
“That’s all you wanted? A cigarette?”
T-Bag laughed as he took another drag. His tongue rolled across his lips again.
“Consider it your lucky day.”