BM fumed to herself silently. Damn this idiotic chap-from-the-backseat. Like who did he think he was. Without doubt the most annoyingly un-useful male person she had ever met. She glared at him. He had edged away till he was almost stuck to the passenger-side door. Like what did he think she would do to him. Very tempted, she was, to just lean over, open the door and push him out. He seemed to be attempting to write on a scrap of paper, though how anyone could even attempt that in a car going at 90 mph she couldn't fathom. "Hmmph!"
Was that a snort now? Baron F looked up from the poem he was trying to write. Inspiration had just struck him (very inconvenient this inspiration was, always popping up when it wasn't wanted, like a bad Penny) in the form of a poem (a villanelle actually, which would be palindromic, arrhythmic and at the same time able to do magic tricks while standing on its head) and he had to get it down on paper before it evaporated right out of him. And his train of thought had just been confronted with a human tied to the tracks right in front of it. Some people might have said it was just a snort, shrugged it off and got on with the job. But some people were just not sensitive, artistic souls. Baron F glared at BM. Before he could launch into his witty, yet subtly cruel cut at Women who Snorted Inappropriately, he was interrupted by a squeal. "What is she doing here??!! What is she *doing* here?? OMG! She's going to die!!! OMG". Baron F turned around just in time to see a rather fetching young woman running across the highway. The highway! He wasn't surprised that BM appeared to know this person. Just the sort of insane woman he would expect BM to associate with. Their car had come to a screeching halt and Baron F wasn't in the least tempted to see what the cars right behind them were doing. He saw no point in facing Death grimly. He much preferred the idea of turning his back on It and pretending It wasn't happening.
The smart black Jaguar behind them swerved just in time to avoid Crazy Highway-crossing Woman and then impressively swerved just in time to avoid their car (now parked in the middle of the highway) and even more impressively came to a neat halt less than 2 inches from their trunk at a 45 degree angle. The driver stepped out, checked to see if there were any scratches, smiled in satisfaction at seeing none on his gleaming hood, removed his DnG sunglasses and walked towards their car. He tapped on the driver's window, waited for BM to lower it, blinded her with a brilliant smile (displaying the cutest dimples ever!) and asked, "Are you ok there, Miss?" BM's heart did a little pole dance in the confines of its bony cage, took a bow and then eased up on her lungs enough for her to croak, "John?"