Saturdays were a gift from God. When Saturday had rolled around during that first epic week, God had been sitting there in all his finery (or whatever it was that Gods wore) just enjoying the view. That was when it'd struck him. He probably called Jesus over and said, "Hey kid, we oughta give the people a day when they can just sit around and do nothing. Like bums, y'know?" Yeah, that was what he said. Or maybe Axel Scott, the one who took the time to consider this idiocy, simply had an overactive imagination. Yes, that made much more sense than a slang-slinging God and his sidekick planning what to do with the sixth day. The apparent lunacy of such thoughts, though, hardly occured to Axel. Yes, it was all in a days work. That wasn't to say that she was a free-thinker, of course. No, she wasn't that presumptuous to assume that she was any different from anyone else. Deranged, that was what she'd call it. Or just cracked.

See, the glorious thing about Saturdays was the fact that she could sleep in as late as she wanted. She didn't have to work on weekends. That meant late night love affairs with the television and morning binges on Reese's Puffs and warm orange juice. She wasn't a morning person in the slightest. She generally set her beat-up alarm clock for around nine, but it ended up half-way across the room and hanging from her floor lamp. No, that wasn't a very effective means to starting her mornings off early. Not that she really wanted to. In all honesty, she could sleep 'til the afternoon and not bat an eye about it. But her roommates had conflicting ideologies about the morningtime. The two of them, probably like the other weirdos who bred them into existance, believed that a morning started off late wasn't really a morning at all. It was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day or something. What crackpots.

When Axel had gone to bed that night (or that morning, considering it was close to three when she turned in at the insistance of Patricia, the more anal of the two) she'd completely forgotten that tomorrow, whatever the date happened to have been, was what they called "fall cleaning". It was in preparation for winter or whatever, and a complete waste of time. Ax's room, though junky, was extremely organized. She knew exactly where her socks and magazines and old McDonalds reciepts were, and cleaning would just screw up everything. She'd start the whole season off on the wrong foot, wrong leg, wrong hemisphere of the brain. But they didn't really care about an off season.

At exactly 6:58, Evelyn (headcase numero dos) was pounding on Axel's bedroom door, shouting something about house cleaning and it already being light outside. Her voice was muffled by the time it reached Axel's ears, thanks to the sound of the vacuum in the other room and the pillow that was overtop her head. The more muffled the better. The last thing she'd wanted to hear was that shrieking harpy of a female. But she wasn't to be dissuaded. When Axel didn't open the door, much less respond to her calls, Evelyn opened the door and came in. Not the shades, Axel thought from beneath her pillow, I'll kill her if she goes for the shades. Needless to say, she went for the shades. Ax unfortunately didn't kill her, though the urge was great. Pulling the pillow off of her head and tossing it in the direction she thought her roommate to be, the dark-haired girl buried her face into her sheets, hoping that would be enough to ward her off. If only things were that easy. Just think how World War II would've gone. Everybody could just throw pillows at Hitler and his butt buddies, and everything would've gone peachy keen.

Evelyn rambled on about dust mites and an ebola outbreak in Africa, and Axel struggled to find a relationship between the two. Eh, maybe the conversation (one-sided as it was) really made sense, but Axel's mind was far too groggy to make out anything the short blonde girl was saying. Finally, Evelyn simply grabbed ahold of Axel's covers and tugged them off of her bed. Lucky for the girl with virgin eyes, Ax had worn clothes to bed that night. That woulda been awkward for all eternity if it had been otherwise. Axel rolled out of bed angry, her world spinning retrograde in a blur of colors and vertical lines. She raised a hand to her temple and stood up, immediately dwarfing her petite roommate.

"Evie," she said, in spite of the fact that the girl refused to acknowledge a nickname (pet names, she called them), "I've been asleep like four hours and I'm not about to push dirt with you and that maniac out there vaccuuming a perfectly clean carpet." Then, oh God then, Evelyn said something that cheered Ax up right away. She said, "Of course you're not helping, you lout. You've never cleaned anything in your life. Like you could manage it now. Out. You'd just screw everything up. Go walk a dog or something." Yes, this cheered Axel's spirits so much that she didn't even bother to fire back. She simply tugged on some shorts and an old t-shirt and vacated the premisis before one of them changed their minds.

The air outside was surprisingly chilly and hit Ax's face like a steam engine, full blast. She shivered involuntarily, immediately wishing that she'd put on something warmer. But no way was she going back across enemy lines. Like hell. So instead of retiring to warmer regions, the tall girl started to jog, slowly at first, then faster, her rubber-soled shoes slapping the pavement rhythmically. Might as well try Central Park if she was going to be running so early in the morning. She crossed a couple of streets and rounded a corner, the tall trees of the park looming up like naturally occuring skyscrapers. They grew steadily bigger as she approached, until she was finally wreathed in their shade as she loped onto the grass of the park. Now, rather than the air being cold, it was exhilerating. She pushed her legs harder, lowering her head against the wind as she powerhorsed on. Axel Scott rounded a bend, though, and nearly collided with another runner, a man. She spun off at the last second, stumbling as she slowed to a stop. She whirled around, her breath coming heavy, and flashed an apologetic grin at the man. "Sorry about that," she said, "I was off in a parallel universe."

Why the hell did he even take this job?

It was a question that Ian found himself asking himself quite a bit lately, especially when things started to get tense between him and the tennants of his building. He missed the days when the people living there payed rent, and were respectful. He hated that 90% of the people living in his apartment were damn pushers or druggies. This is why he confined himself to his office unless he had to go fix a floor board or deal with some sort of situation with the delinquant little shits who lived there. Noramlly what he would when he was frustrated was lay down on the bench he had in his office and pump iron until he was ready to pass out. It helped him take out his aggression on something inatimate, rather than be wanted for mass murder.

This day, however, was a very special occasion. Today just working out in his office wasn't enough. He couldn't even stand to be in the building, he was so irate. That sort of thing happened when he walked out of his office at 6 in the morning and found the resident in 201B attempting to rape some girl in the hall way. He broke the guys jaw with a punch and dragged him back to his room with a post it note on his forehead saying that he has 48 hours to move his things out or he will put his drill to good use.

Yeah, not such a good day for Ian Creek.

He tried falling back to sleep after that but it just wasn't happening, he couldn't bear to be in the building for a while. So he got up, but on his sweats and bolted out the door, not caring what happened to the building in his absense. Normally one jogs for a while to get their frustrations out, but Ian had quite a bit of aggression to get out of his system. He sprinted all the way from his apartment at avenue C all the way up to 42nd street before he even slowed down. And after that he still continued to jog pretty quickly.

He found himself all the way over at Central Park, a rather fair distance from his building in alphabet city, but he didn't care. He was still pissed, and he still had a lot of aggression to work out.

He was deep in thought, images of what that pusher was doing to that poor girl running through his mind as hard as he tried to push them out. That was why he nearly ran into some girl without even realizing it.

He looked at her, his chest heaving with his heavy breathing, realizing she was trying to give him some form of an apology...he couldnt really hear her, of in a world of his own as well. And he honestly didn't care much.

"Whatever..." He muttered, his voice slightly raspy from how much he had been running without any hydration. "Of course you're in another universe, why else would you be in Central Park at 7 in the morning?"

Great. Just great. Her day had started out, while not great, blissfully mediocre, and then this jerk had to come along. Okay, so maybe it was her who came along, seeing as she had been the one to nearly collide with him. Of all the people, though. It could of been a bum, or some housewife from the east coast rather than him. Well, maybe she was judging him too harshly. She'd known him for all of five seconds, and here she was already referring to him as 'him'. Axel straightened, rolling back her shoulders, and surveyed this 'him'. He wasn't half-bad looking , though he was a rise and shine asshole right off the bat. Well, two could play at that game, as the old cliche went.

Axel allowed a feigned look of puzzlement to cross over her features, interlocking her fingers over her head to open her airways. "You say that like you aren't out in BFE either, kiddo," she said drily, "So I'm not the only one who's out there." He did say that like they were phoning it in or something, and he wasn't actually in the same spot she was. Ax took in a stream of air, her breathing slowing and her heart regulating. She wasn't a runner by a mile, but she was in good enough shape for a young whippersnapper like herself. "Do you always go around like you've just had an ice water enema, or did I just catch you on a bad day?" she asked him, dropping her arms to her side. It wasn't long before she found somewhere else to put them (this time her thumbs were hooked in the waistband of her shorts) as she often got restless and ran out of things to do with her hands.

Normally, she wouldn't have instigated a fight with some rude, however comely, stranger, but she was feeling particularly confrontational. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the rush of adrenaline from her adrenal glands, or maybe it was the fact that she'd watched The Godfather four times the day before; who knew. The thing was that she didn't like this guys tone (as odd as that was to say) and she wouldn't mind duking it out (verbally) with him. Heh, it'd be just her luck that he was a violent card and he'd knock her lights out. Wouldn't that be a good story to tell by the fireside. She considered this, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, though not nervously, her lower lip caught in her teeth. Maybe it was best just to leave it alone. Yeah, that was a good idea. She'd finish up her run and head back to her crash pad where she'd put on some warmer clothes. Maybe go rock climbing or something. But first she wanted to hear what he had to say. Curiousity killed the cat. But you know what they say. Satisfaction brought him back.

In most of Ian's experiences, when he would be an asshole to someone they would have called him an asshole and just left. This would have suited him just fine, considering all that had happened within an hour of him waking up. His cold gray eyes stare the girl down, not quite sure he had just heard what he had heard. "Kiddo...." He said in a soft voice, smoother now that he had been given a chance to breathe a bit more. "Is that something you should call another person, considering you look like you arent much removed from puberty yourself...physically or mentally." He muttered, walking ever so closer to her.

Normally, Ian would have stopped there, continue running, then make his way back to his building where he could deal with stuff. Actually, in most cases he wouldn't have acknowledged her at all, but today was different. Today he didn't need an annoying little girl giving him attitude. "And actually, kid, you did catch me on a bad day. But don't let that fool you, I'm an asshole. And you know what, Im damn proud of that fact."

He took a small step forward, letting out a calming breath. Maybe, instead of running, this was what he needed to do. He needed to get into a fight with someone. "You on the other hand, are the type of person who sees someone in a bad mood and automatically jumps to conclusions. I give you a snappy remark and you think I'm an asshole. Well in this case you happen to be right, but that doesn't stop you from being a full on bitch." He said in a soft, casual voice. "That is what is known as the pot calling the kettle black."

In all honesty, Axel hadn't meant the pet name as deragatory. She tended to throw those into statements like she was out to lunch or something. But if he wanted to take it that way, so be it. She didn't really care much if she somehow wounded his manly pride. Call him petty, will you? His retort perfectly amused her. She knew that she wasn't stacked or anything, and looked several years younger than she really was, but twenty-six was hardly a kid. He couldn't be much older than she was. Three years at most. Maybe four. Had she really said anything all that offensive anyway? What had she said exactly? Something like, 'You're talking like you aren't out in BFE yourself, kiddo'. Maybe it was the 'kiddo' part that got him all offended. It shouldn't have been enough for him to jump the gun on her, though. What a creep. "Would you like me to find you some ice to cool off your brain, jackass? I'm sure it took you a ton of energy to think that up all by yourself," she fired back, instantly incensed.

Ax smirked when he admitted to the fact that he was an asshole. Just like she thought he'd be. "Well, good for you. The thing is, as soon as you're dead, everyone's gonna forget you. 'Cause who's gonna want to remember an asshole?" The most fearful thing, in Axel's book, was to be entirely forgotten after she was dead. What would be the point of even having been alive? And what, she wondered, was the point of being proud of being an asshole? It wasn't like it was some grand talent or something that inspired any emotion other than dread or hate. She'd just met the man and already she disliked him intensely. She noticed him take a step forward, and she mimicked his action, taking a step of her own. Axel knew she wouldn't stand a chance in a physical fight with him, but she didn't think he'd hit her. Sure, there was a chance, but that stayed lodged in the back of her mind. It was better to just ignore dangers when they presented themselves.

"You are such a hypocrite," she said through clenched teeth, "You give me a fuckin' incentive to call you an asshole, but somehow I'm a hip-shooter because you think I don't know you well enough. Who the hell was the one who fired off some half-jacked insult about mental and physical maturity before I'd said two words? You walk around like you don't have to wipe your ass like the rest of us." She didn't need to spend months and years getting to know the bastard to know that he had some superiority complex. He even looked like an elitist. The scum of the universe, they were, and she was tempted to part company with him right there. Unfortunately, she was already in it and there was no way she was backing down for fear of retribution. No, she was in it to win it.

Ian smirked a little bit at that. As strange as it was, it was rather nice being in a verbal fist fight. Every abusive remark she threw at him made him feel just a little bit better, as if it were cathartic. It was rather strange, but Ian never claimed to be a normal person...maybe at one point he was, but not anymore. "You think thats important to me? Do you think if I care if people remember me after I die? Hell no. You know, chances are you aren't going to be remembered either and your pretty naive for thinking otherwise." He said, raising an eyebrow at her.

Honestly, he didn't know enough about her to say whether she'll be remembered post mordem. Hell he didn't even know if she was a bitch or not, he couldn't blame her for reacting the way he did, he just needed someone to fight with, someone to work out his emotions. He needed to throw his insults at something who will throw them right back, and actually give a reaction, and this girl seems to do the trick.

"You're the one who gave me attitude after I had said one thing to you." Ian said smoothly. "What was it...a "ice water enima?" Actually, that's rather cute, but I'd also say it's judgemental. What I said wasn't even that bad, not bad enough to warrent such a biting insult." He said, enjoying how frustrated she seemed to be getting at this exchange. "And I would like to look me in the eye and tell me that you aren't as big of a hypocrite as I am...."

Axel laughed at his response, but the laugh was harsh and humorless. She was struck then at how odd the laugh sounded coming out of her mouth. She wasn't a mean person. If anything, she was too nice for her own good. It was possible that she was letting this jerk-off make who she was, but that thought was small and insignificant compared to her overwhelming irritation. "I knew it," she said irately, "Not only are you a bastard, but you operate on the same plane of thought as a four year old." If their was one thing Ax couldn't stand, it was people who never existed outside of their own personal space. It was pathetic. Like a baby. For a baby, nothing existed outside of what they could see. When you left their line of sight, you no longer existed. If she'd learned one thing from that encounter, she knew that the guy had the mentality of an infant.

The tall girl visibly bristled as he called her out for overreacting at his "simple" reply. "The insult was hardly biting. You must be sensitive to that sort of thing. What? Did you want me to apologize for hurting your feelings?" He acted like she was supposed to have just taken it when he decided he wanted to cop an attitude. He was intimidating, yeah, but not enough where she'd back off. She vaguely wondered if he got away with that sort of thing all the time. She bet he did. Ax bet people just let him push them around. Heh. Maybe this was a new experience for him. That was an interesting thought. His mother was probably the biggest punk in the history of mankind.

At his challenge Axel again didn't back down. "Fine," she said, leveling her gaze at him, "I'm not a hypocrite by any stretch." She was tempted for a moment to add a 'so there' at the end, but she resisted and kept her mouth shut. It struck her then how ridiculous the fight was, but this voice was louder than the last. She shook her head and pushed back her black bang from her forehead. "This is stupid," she said, talking more to herself than him, "I don't believe I just got into it with a complete stranger."

Ian once again let out a small chuckle as she continued to insult him. He could hear the irritation in her voice and it made the smirk on his lips grow. He was being a bit sadistic, pushing her buttons like this, but he didn't care. He couldn't, there was too much shit going on in his own life to worry about anyone else.

"When I called you're insult 'biting' I was clearly being sarcastic." Ian pointed out, once again keeping the same calm tone he had been using the entire conversation. He hadn't had a decent verbal fight in a while, most of the people surrounding him at the apartment were usually stoned or drunk or running away from him. This was a nice switch. "Your insult, if you may call it that, was pretty much the equivilent of something out of a comic strip. Chuckle-worthy at best." He said with a small shrug.

Ian chuckled a bit more as she finally admitted to herself how stupid this fight had been. He could have told her that, he thought. "You're right, this fight is pretty pointless. Especially since I wasn't even trying to be mean when I pointed out that you were here at 7 in the morning. What I was trying to do is get a small laugh out of the situation...but that didn't work. Instead you picked a fight, and in the mood I'm in I was more than ready to fire back."