Leslie & Andy
"TALLY HO!!!" He had no idea what that meant, but he'd seen it on an old Western before and always wanted to say it. They weren't on Horseback or anywhere near the West. It still felt oddly appropriate to Andy.
Walking backwards sounded a lot easier than it actually was. Add that to diving hallway utensils and holding a table and you had a sandwich of capabilities that Andy Dwyer was not fit to multitask with. Eyes on the door, eyes on his feet, the impending bombing. Gravity was a cruel mistress and took advantage of those less than coordinated. A quarter of the way to the door Andy stumbled back wards, his corner of the table falling back to whack them both backwards and onto the unforgiving hardness of the carpeted floor.
The lamps, brochures, drawers, and candles were relentless. "Ungh," Andy had only a second to moan about his head before rolling away from a candlestick, scrambling over to Leslie, who looked just as shaken. "I'm sorry, that's my bad. Hang tight I got this." With a grunt he pushed himself to his feet and hoisted her up, tucking her up over his shoulder and stumbling for the door again in a zig zag formation to avoid the projectiles. If video games and sci fi had taught him anything, it was that you always zig zagged.
Skidding past the threshold of the door he kicked it shut with his foot and let his grip on Leslie loosen until she could slide down to her feet, arms still out to support. "We made it! Are you alright, Leslie?"