-She is going to kill him, or kill him, Morgan being charming to Ingrid before fleeing-<br/><br/>" The window the escape up here doesn't stick, I know this for a fact." he said as he barreled through the doors and to his studio In mid stride he grabbed the painting off the stand that he had just completed before turning and heading towards the window. He swept a line of CD's/DVD's into his camera bag and slung it over his shoulder. Memory cards and two camera's, one an old school style Cannon waited in the bag. He didn't even stop for shoes as he neared Ingrid.<br/><br/>"Artist Rush, Keekeekee," he said as he nodded for her to pop the window. He waited for her to do so, let her step out to the fire escape and the followed her. The iron of the escape was cold on his feet, he took that much better than roasting toasty in a fire. "Ladies first Ingrid," and he nodded to the switchback ladders heading to the ground. He slung the bag, and in a moment of epic pimpness, pulled a pack of cigarettes out , lighting one as he headed down the metal stairs. Hey, with Ingrid first she could accuse him of trying to check out her ass.<br/><br/>He had already done that inside anyways.<br/><br/>He followed Ingrid to the street below, it had been a record for him. He had survived, Aline's wrath, Ingrid's anger, and a studio fire all in one night with no loss of limb or body part. Yes, for some reason, he had an odd grin on his face.