He glances down from his place on top the car. 

"Yeah?" He asks, bending down, almost in two, to get a good look at Alex.

"Getting late," Alex points out, nodding at the setting sun. "You wanna be back by curfew tonight?" 

Jamie looks back up at the sunset, admiring it.

"Nah. It's not gonna be too cold tonight - let's just stay out." 

He nods laconically, "Alright." He glances up, "Come down here," he orders lightly. 

Jamie comes down there. 

"Couch?" He asks, mildly. 

Alex hums, turning to face him. 

"...Nah," he says, slipping his hands around Jamie's waist. He herds him back until he's pressed against the wall of the car. 

Jamie goes easily. 

Yeah, Jamie always goes easily. He's good that way. 

Alex presses a kiss to his lips once, twice, sliding his hands down and then up again under Jamie's shirt, gripping his hips where his jeans ride low.

"Rather have you here," he murmurs, slipping his thumbs beneath Jamie's waistband. "That ok with you?" 

"Whatever you want," Jamie sighs out, head tipping back, his hands sliding down from Alex's shoulders to fall at his sides. 

He wants this shirt off, for one thing. Which presents something of a challenge, since Alex's hands are a bit busy at the moment. 

"Shirt," he orders brusquely, pulling back a bit to give Jamie room. 

He pulls it off as directed, dropping it to the ground next to them. He shudders at the chill of the metal wall behind him as he leans back again. 

Best warm him up then, hadn't he (all part of his master plan). 

"There are better ways to temperature control, you know," a voice behind them comments. 

Alex starts, whipping around to glare at the interloper - incidentally blocking Jamie from view. 

"What the fuck-" he demands.

Jamie needs several more moments to pull back from that headspace, but eventually manages to pull himself together enough to peer over Alex's shoulder. 

He waits patiently for the older of the twins to regain his mind before answering the younger's question.

"Temperature control. Ringing any bells?" He asks, glancing between them. 

"What are you talking about?" Alex asks, "Who are you? What are you doing here?" 

He shifts a bit to block Jamie's face from view. 

"I will take that as a no," he says, nodding. "As I thought." 

He sighs, "Well, we cannot have that. I guess I will simply have to give you a little- push." 

He steps back, and vanishes in a puff of indigo mist. 

"...I hate to sound like a broken record but what?" 

He half-turns to look at Jamie. 

"Magic?" Jamie offers, staring at the place the man had vanished from. He shakes his head, "I'm as lost as you are." 

Perhaps these fine fellows can help them figure it out? Given the indigo mist floating around them it'd be reasonable to suspect they might know something. 

Unfortunately, before they can ask, the ones at the front of the group lunge for them 

Where the hell did they come from?! No one has stumbled on them here for the past month. 

He stands his ground in front of Jamie, doing his best to defend. It's a big group, though. A swing catches him in the gut, sending him stumbling back. He hits the car, instead of Jamie, to his surprise. 

With Alex in the way and their attackers all around them, there isn't much he can do - not that he'd be that much help even if he could get closer. He looks up at the car, eyes catching on some handholds he can use. The car is low enough he should be able to help pull Alex up once he's up there himself. They'll be safer up there, he hopes. 

He's already climbing when Alex takes the hit that sends him stumbling back. He scrambles the rest of the way up and then turns to lean over the side of the train car, holding out a hand. 

"Up here, c'mon," he calls down. 

Alex looks up, grabbing his hand with one of his own and a likely-looking protrusion with another. With Jamie's help he quickly scales the side of the car, kicking at the hands that try to pull him back down. 

He collapses on his back for a moment, rubbing his side, and then pushes himself up to peer over the side. 

"Hey!" He calls down to the group on the ground, "What the fuck?" 

He thinks this is a pretty reasonable demand, honestly. 

The group doesn't answer. 

None of them are talking, actually. 

Now that he has a better vantage point, another oddity might become obvious as well. Some of these men - and they're all men - are dressed oddly for an angry mob. Most of them wear casual jeans and shirts, but there's a couple of what looks like businessmen in there, along with a number of older teens in the baggy clothes that are popular right now.