Contrary to the things her behaviour suggested, Vanessa did not actually want to die. There was too much about life that she cared for to just roll over and leave it. For the first time since she'd come to hunt him down, something not unlike fear flashed in her eyes when Labyrinthite started to squeeze.

His fingers were like ice around her throat. Being trapped between his body and the hard surface of the road was too much for her. Labyrinthite had only flipped them over, but it felt very different, being underneath.

Vulcan hissed with rage and, desperate suddenly to free herself, clawed at the Lieutenant's hand. Her fingernails were short. Whatever damage they did was minimal.

She spluttered. Struggled wildly. Tried to breathe.

And then, in an instant, everything changed.

Labyrinthite's hand was torn away. His weight was thrown off of her. Vulcan blinked wildly, gasping for breath, and shifted onto her hands and knees.

Having successfully dodged Denebola's second attack on his valuable person, Proustite watched with no small amount of disappointment as the Senshi of Dragonflies flew to Vulcan's aid. He thought, for an instant, about helping his fellow Nega, but hesitated.

He was not ashamed.

Here was an ample opportunity to escape. Both senshi would be preoccupied with Labyrinthite. Probably, neither of them would notice as he sneaked off down the road.

Still, Proustite lingered by that rust old car, poised for a fight and ready to jump to his comrade's defence if it was required of him to do so. This had less to do with any real sense of nobility than it had to with survival instinct. One day, Proustite thought, he might need Labyrinthite to save his life. If the other Nega were permitted to die here, right now, then there was every likelihood that Proustite would die later.

This was unacceptable.

He held his breath, prepared to battle, and then exhaled promptly when Labyrinthite <******** off.

Proustite's eyebrows flew up into his hairline. He swore softly under his breath, turned tail, and disappeared down the nearest back alley.

Vulcan felt it, when they left, and glanced at Denebola out of the corner of her eye.

"Thank you," she said, voice strained from the damage Labyrinthite's hands had down to her windpipe. "For saving my life."

((I think this is a good place for a wrap <3))