The world whizzes by frame by frame as the blue train rumbles through the blank world. The snow falls and coats the bare and rotting trees, not a river or lake to be seen, any remembrance of one has since been buried. House after house, farm after farm, a girl is carried further from her known universe. Off to a different world. Only from the windows of a train could the world look this beautiful, this peaceful. The sound of the train rattling on the tracks drones her to sleep, only for the sound of the whistle to yank her from her trance. She watches the all too expensive chandeliers - with cobwebs and dust clinging to the fabric, the tassels looked as if they would fall off - wobble above her head, the back and forth lullaby matches the flow of the train. She twirls her wedding ring anxiously, having no need to still wear the damn thing, but the feeling of the cool metal on her finger is comforting. She wonders if she should just throw it away, but the lure to her husband still calls her. The carpet, a pattern as ugly as all hell, draws her attention.

She concentrates on the amalgam of shapes and creates images in her brain. That shape looks like a bunny. That one a hotdog. Hotdog. The girl's stomach growls with hunger. She places a hand on her navel to try and quiet the whale noises coming from under her shirt. After a few hours into this journey, she has only just woken from a nap. She looks up from her seat, trying to make eye contact with any possible passerbys, hoping one of them will direct her to the food car. Only now does she realize how alone she is on this train. What used to be an old luxury was now something not many could afford. Not too many people were traveling by train, if at all anymore. She remembers passing a couple other individuals on the way to her seat, but it now feels eerily quiet. The line to get aboard the train stretched the entire platform, so there must be more people here. There are only two other passengers in the car with her: an older man with silver hair flattened under his hat already heavily asleep, and a wild looking woman with a green scarf and her head buried deep in a book - The Mystery of the Blue Train, Agatha Christie. Oh, how she desired some adventure of her own, preferably one that wouldn't lead to her death or a bizarre mystery on a train, but she wanted something, she craved for more.

The girl wills herself to stand on shaking legs, leaning against the booth to catch her balance. I'd make a poor sea captain, she thinks to herself, her skirts wispy as her stance gets fitted. She wobbles over to the woman with the book and leans down to her level.

"Pardon me, but do you know where I can get some food?" The woman looks up at her wide eyed and pulls her hat lower over her face as if trying to block her from sight. White, silk gloves rest delicately over her hands as she paws at the pearls at her neck. Of course she wouldn't talk to someone like the girl. "Thank you for nothing," she says much too loudly under her breath.

She straightens her back as she catches a whiff of hot coffee coming from behind her, and follows the scent, hoping it'll take her to a desired destination. The girl uses the seat backings to stabilize herself, making her way along as if she were a child on the strangest jungle gym. On her way, she daydreams about snacks. She has gone way too long without eating, the thought of food on a moving vehicle had made her nauseous, but now sugary treats danced through her skull.

She is startled from her dreams of seductive treats by a hand resting on her lower back. She jumps slightly and whipps her head to the man who smiles kindly back, awkwardly reaching from his seats. The girl simply glares and goes to take another step. His hand tightens on her dress.

"Excuse me sir," She says through gritted teeth, "Remove your hand now, please, if you'd like to keep it." She returns his sweet smile with too many teeth showing, like a dog growling, about to fight.

He raises his hands slowly above his head and shrugs, "I just thought you should look up."

The girl raises her eyes to the door in front of her. Emergency Exit only, it reads in bright red letters. She lets out a frustrated sigh. She is at the back of the train and has apparently been walking in the wrong direction.

"Thanks," She says as she slowly turns around, trying not to stumble or lose her grip on the chairs.

"Might I ask what you're looking for? Maybe I could help." His head tilts to the side, in question. Only now does she get a good look at his face as she stands over him. His blue eyes sparkle brighter than the ocean. His long, brown hair falls gently over his face, it's just long enough that he has to push it out of his eyes. He still smiles sweetly, his teeth as white as the snow that falls outside the window. His nose is quaint and pointed at the end. He is young, maybe a few years older than the girl, likely has just made it into industrial life. He looks simple, yet beautiful.

"Um, yeah, I'm looking for food. Food of any kind, really." The train makes a slight jolting movement and she has to stomp her foot in front of herself to refrain from falling on her ass. She shrinks closer to the floor, her skirt now covering her old shoes.

He shakes his head slightly, "I'm sorry, ma'am, they came by with food an hour or so ago. They won't come back out until dinner." The girl's face grows pale. Shit. "However," he continued, "I snatched a little extra from the cart. The woman seemed to like me and gave me an extra treat." He holds up a wrapped napkin so that she can see it and get a glimpse of what is inside. A croissant. The delicate scent shoved its way up her nose and almost forced her legs to give out. All she could do was stop herself from drooling. This was all she could have asked for.

The girl recenters herself and her footing, trying to sound nonchalant, "Um yeah, I'll take it if you're sure you don't want it."

He lets out a laugh, as sweet as a bell, "From the look on your face, you definitely need it more than I do." Had I stopped myself from drooling?

She tries to smile and refrain from the blood rushing to her face. "Th..thank you," She started to take the napkin from him then added, "sir" just to make sure she sounded polite and truly thankful.

His eye contact never brakes. He holds out his other hand, "You don't have to call me sir, my name is Clyde."

The girl looks at his hand, large and calloused. She wonders what he does for a living, something on his feet, maybe. She glances back at his face then grasps his hand and shakes, "Bonnie," she replies.

"Bonnie, would you consider joining me while you enjoy that croissant I so kindly gave up to you?" His eyebrows raise as if he's trying to play some sort of game. She recognizes the look on his face, it reminded her of her husband. He always got that look right before he dragged her along to witness his crimes and threatened her to be silent about them. Clyde shifts over one seat and patts the one by the aisle. She has to be careful with this one.

Skeptically, Bonnie takes her place beside him. She gives him a small nod then gently unwraps the croissant from the napkin. Never would she have thought to be eating such a delicacy, not in this setting. Bonnie grasps it with two hands as if she were afraid it would sprout legs and run away. It is still warm; she lifts her pinkies as high as an Englishman drinking tea and takes a bite. Absolutely heavenly. Chocolate runs down her lips, she cleans the spill with her tongue, not wanting to waste the flavor. How long has it been since I've had chocolate? She lets a moan escape from her chocolate stained lips.

Clyde smiles at her, "That good, huh?"

Bonnie nods enthusiastically, "Mhmm." Once her stomach has quieted and settled, she places the half eaten dessert on the napkin on her lap. She makes sure that her knees are squeezed together tightly and her skirt hovers just above her boots - boots which were falling apart at the seams. She couldn't remember the last time she had bought herself new clothes. These boots were a gift from her husband the last winter before he had been incarcerated, more than a year ago. These were one of the only gifts he had given her. She knocks the heels together, half hoping they would just fall apart. She looks back up quickly, hoping Clyde wouldn't catch sight of her boots. He was so well dressed, he had on a black suit and vest, no tie hung from his neck. A hat hangs from his seat back. He came from money. Bonnie had come from nothing. She could barely afford to eat.

Sure enough he notices her boots. "So what's a pretty little thing like yourself doing on a train to nowhere?"

Bonnie smiles in response, the smile no longer lighting up her eyes. "It's not nowhere for me, I'm heading to Joplin." She holds her head higher, feigning confidence.

"Missouri?" His head tipps back as he lets out a sharp laugh, "Bonnie, I'd hope so, I don't think this train goes anywhere after Missouri. That's my stop too."

His laugh sets off a sting in her eyes, "Why are you going to Missouri?" she shifts her knees closer to the aisle and takes another bite of the croissant.

"Business. And you?" The snow had stopped falling out the window, the blanket that remains coating the ground looks like something you would want to wrap yourself in. The light reflecting off of the snow contrasts Clyde's dark clothes. From this angle, he looks like a dark figure, or a shadow. He looks out of place; the devil. A beautiful, enticing devil.

"Just trying to get away from it all. Nothing for me anymore." Bonnie's head bows as she takes another bite of her treat. It was true, after her husband went to prison for the robbery - which he claims was for her -, she couldn't afford to live by herself. This ticket on the blue train was the last of her money, she just had to escape her husband. He'd come after her if he found out she chose to pay for food over the cost of his bail. He had his ways of escape, he's already tried, but no prison would hold him for long. He believed he controlled her, she was nothing more than a slave to that man. Sometimes she missed his warm, strong touch, only to be jolted back to life, reminded of how poorly he treated her. She'd kill him, if she had to, but for now she made her way to Missouri; her best, and only option left.

"You have a ring." There's no question in his voice.

Her hands had gone to her wedding ring as she twisted it while in thought, drawing attention to the one jewel she owned. "Yes."

"Married?"

"Not quite."

He straightened his posture to appear taller. "What do you mean, not quite?"

"I am married, but he's in prison. It's complicated. I'm leaving him, I just can't quite..."

His voice softened slightly "You can't get rid of him completely. Hence the ring."

She meets Clyde's eyes. "Yes."

His right hand reached towards his coat pockets. They hovered for a second before he rested his hands on his knees. "He hurt you." She couldn't tell if he meant to say he broke her heart or physically hurt her, though the answer to both is yes. She couldn't bring herself to say anything in response. She looks back down at her lap and twists her ring again.

He watches her while she remains quiet. Bonnie catches his eyes running over her body, inspecting her face, her hands, her skirts. He gently places his hand on her chin and pulls it slightly to turn and look at him. After a moment of pause he finally says, "Well, Bonnie, you could join me in my business if you'd like." His smile is so tempting, she wants to say yes to anything he says.

She shakes off his hand that had lingered on her face for a touch too long, "What's your business got for a girl to do?" As a woman, she wasn't used to men offering her positions of any kind if it didn't involve sex.

Clyde leans back and crosses his arms over his chest, "Bonnie, in my industry I'm the boss, so you can do whatever you'd like. I need help with transportation and counting of our funds and profits. You can even travel with me. My business takes me all around the south." His eyes meet hers again, "What'd you say?"

Travel. The allure of the promise to travel the country and to get paid doing it called to her. The promise almost as seductive as the man's lips. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip and gently bit it as if deep in thought, awaiting a response he likely already knew the answer to. How could anyone turn him down?

"One week with me and I'm sure we could get you some new boots." He raises one eyebrow and holds out his hand for her to shake.

"Alright, Clyde, I accept. But on one condition." Bonnie takes another bite of her croissant.

His eyes grow wide for a second, and then he rests into a smile. His right eyebrow raises just slightly. Likely no one challenges him like that. He must've been intrigued, "And what would that be, Bonnie?"

She holds up what is left of the croissant and smiles, "To provide more of these treats." She plops the rest of it in her mouth and wipes her hands on her lap.

Clyde lets out a deep belly laugh, "That, my girl, I can do."

Bonnie lets out a laugh too, more of a giggle. She can't hide her excitement. This business sounds like a true adventure. Exactly what she needs to get her mind off her husband. An exciting journey with a partner, a true partner, someone she can actually work with. She looks up at the man sitting next to her. He truly is gorgeous, he looks so kind, she trusts him and wants to know more about him. Clyde pats her thigh with his hand, careful not to ruffle the long skirts.

"Now, Bonnie," He says very softly and sweetly, "Are you ready for your first act as a business woman?" He ushers her out to the aisle.

Her eyes grow wide, "I mean sure, what do I have to do?" She stands again on shaky legs, gripping the chairs for support.

Clyde grabs his hat and puts it on top of his brown hair, smushing it down to cover more of his face. "Hang on, Dear." His arm reaches casually towards the ceiling to pull on the emergency stop cord. In an instant his body is pressed against hers as she struggles to stand against the pressure of the train's brakes. Bonnie sinks further and further into her body, trying not to be thrown to the floor. The locomotive comes to a screeching halt, causing many passengers to exclaim in fear or confusion. Luggage spills into the aisle as passengers struggle to hold on to their own seats. Bonnie holds onto Clyde until the train stops fully, his large hand again resting on the small of her back. She feels a strange, hard bulge in his left coat pocket. When she looks up, those glowing blue eyes are staring back into her.

"Are you ready, Bonnie?" Before she can answer, Clyde was pulling two pistols from his coat. He holds them up at shoulder height and starts making his way towards the front of the train. Bonnie hides behind him in his shadow, trying to make herself as small as possible. Is this really happening? Her breath catches as she struggles to keep calm. He comes upon the first passenger, the nervous woman who had been in Bonnie's train car a few seats behind where she had been sitting earlier. "Excuse me, ma'am," he said with a grin, "I'm going to have to ask you to leave all your valuables in your chair and vacate to the back of this vehicle, if you would be so kind."

With a gun pointed at the woman's face she scurries out of her seat and practically sprints to the other end of the train. She leaves her book, which she had almost finished, and her pearls scattered around her seats. You deserve this, Bonnie thinks to herself.

"Pick those up for me, would you Bonnie?" He nods his head towards the jewelry on the cushions and makes his way down the train, excusing every passenger from their seats and making the same commands. The passengers listen to the man with the soft voice, as does Bonnie. Each aisle they pass Bonnie becomes more and more confident in herself, her posture straightens and her breathing settles. A cool calm spreads over her body as her muscles struggle to carry all of the riches.

When they finally make it to the front of the train, bags and wallets and pearls are spilling from Bonnie's arms onto the locomotive floor. Clyde had the sense to shove some of the valuables into emptied bags of the other passengers. There were more people aboard the train than she remembered, a few stragglers who had likely taken their place in the front. He asks her to stand watch over the passengers while he goes to "handle" the conductor. She has a fair understanding of what that might entail, but wasn't going to press or ask questions. Without a pistol in hand and no weapons in sight, unless you count the dangerous amount of riches, it was lucky that none of the passengers got brave or made attempts to harass her. However, Bonnie still holds her head high as if daring someone to challenge her.

A gunshot went off behind her. Some of the passengers scream and Bonnie holds back a flinch. She stands strong, her grip tightening on the valuables in her arms until she feels Clyde's breath on the nape of her neck. Her hair rises to the touch. "Face me, Bonnie."

Again she obeys. She hasn't realized how tall he is when standing up. He towers over her at least half a foot, elongating his limbs and torso, turning him into a true shadow. He is smiling wide, a new sparkle in his eyes, something she hasn't witnessed before. True enjoyment. The adrenaline rush people risk their lives to feel; he has captured it in this moment. Her eyes are drawn to the bright red color of blood that now painted the collar of his shirt, he doesn't seem to notice or care.

Bonnie doesn't break eye contact as she lifts her arms full of treasures, "Did I pass, boss?" She raises her left eyebrow, she knows very well that she has in fact pleased him.

His smile widens and there is something new in his eyes, hunger. He raises his pistols over her shoulders to keep the passengers at bay. Clyde steps closer to her so that their faces are inches from one another. He whispers slowly, "Yes, Miss Bonnie, I'd say you passed."

At that moment Bonnie closes the space between them, allowing everything in her arms to spill to the ground as she cups his face in her hands. His lips are warm and soft and taste better than any croissant ever could. She wants this, she wants him to last forever. This excitement, this nervousness, this adrenaline that now powered her, she couldn't let it slip through her fingers.

After an eternity Clyde pulls away, his lips still spread as if waiting for Bonnie's to fill the gap, "What do you say we take our things and go?"

"Go where?"

He slides open the door at the front of the train and gestures to the white, open plains, "Go anywhere."

Bonnie scoops up most of the items she had dropped and jumps from the train to the powdered snow. The wind nips at her cheeks and bites at her boots, but she couldn't care less. Bonnie finally had another purpose. Clyde takes off running at a slow pace, she can see a short, black car off in the distance under the only tree for miles; a getaway plan. He is a smart man, cold and calculated and charming. She looks back at the train to see the passengers pressed up against the back windows, in complete and utter shock. Only then did she realize that the train is blue. From the engine to the caboose, the train is covered in a dark navy coat of paint. The train, which used to be of grandeur, is now run down, the blue paint beginning to peel, the metal beginning to rust. No wonder she could afford the ticket. Bonnie looks down at the new riches that filled her arms and back at the train. Bonnie huffs, then lets out a laugh, more of a cackle. Then she turns and takes off after Clyde, whooping and yelling the whole way.