Women Drivers [Gunnar]

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"Oh, this be jest wunderful! Jest wunderful!" The little dark haired woman fumed as she stepped out of the rubble of her once expensive red Lexus. A little moan was all she dared to utter in fright that one of the mortal men that surrounded her would see her real anger. What was she going to do now? If only she had been paying attention to the road and not worrying about how much she had just spent on those shoes that went with that dress, that just so happen to go with her new purse back at the apartment-well you get the idea. She grumbled a stream of curses in her native tongue and kicked the deflated tire. A long whine of air spurted out and the little woman threw up her hands in vexation.

This was just not Sabrina McLeoud's day at all.

As the taxi finally pulled up into the dirty outskirts of the city, Sabrina winced at the dust that flew around them. Oh joy, her heels would most definitely become filthy easily out here. But, there was some car place out here that had 'tanks'. Real tanks that were made into a car more or less and the way Sabrina went through cars, well it would do her some good to have something she wouldn't destroy the next time she lost her mind on the road thinking about shoes. Though, now that she thought about it...those shoes didn't even match! Sabrina smacked her own forehead and jumped out of the yellow shuttle as she paid the driver. Maybe she could get at least an idea of what to look for in a car that wouldn't be totaled by a little five foot two Scottish woman.

Sabrina walked through the door and pranced up to the help desk that she barely could see over. "Hullo, I would much appreciate sum help, puhleas." Her voice was smooth, but the accent would always be with her. She was a child of the moors, the deep valleys of Scotland and it rolled off her tongue as she spoke no matter how old she became or where she lived. "If it's not too much trouble tha' is."

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It was hot. Not a cloud in the sky beyond that of the dust rolling over the open expanse of sandy terrain. Wisps of debris rolling with the dry wind, tumbleweeds stuck to every fence and piled against every building you laid eyes upon. The natural vegetation was crisp to the touch, and as sparse as a bald mans hair. It hadn't rained in days, and with this dry heat, the only moisture that would touch these soils was sweat from those who dared wander in to its depths.

The highway passed by the rather large shop belonging to BAD Enterprizes, a massive building erected just weeks earlier in perfect resemblance to the one Gunnar owned back home. A large shop, complete with a waiting area and front desk, and fully armored vehicles on display in the front room. Perhaps it seemed like a mirage to those approaching from afar, the few decorative trees and the golf green grass that was well manicured along the entrance to the parking lot. You wouldn't think to get much business out here, but that was exactly what he had in mind. Gunnar wouldn't take the service of just anyone who walked in off the street. Very few could afford his prices, and even fewer actually required such a vehicle that he had to offer.

From Volvo's to Murcielago's, the 'lawn ornaments' adorning either side of the smooth black top from the gates to the large glass windows of the inner display area were all far from what they appeared. Sure, some people would special order a custom look for their chosen tank, but what Gunnar specialized in was the stock appearance. Bulletproof glass, to bullet proof rubber, and several inches of reinforced steel under the outer shell. Take the assassins by surprise. Although, as Gunnar's main source of income, assassination was his specialty. But lets not touch to far on that subject.

The front desk had a young blonde woman sitting with one leg crossed over the other. A thick vault-like noise proof door separated the show room from the shop, and before Brittney, the secretary, could buzz to the back to inform anyone of Sabrina's presence, the door unlatched and swung open. A dirty rag in hand, with loose jeans riding low on his otherwise bare hips, Gunnar walked to the front desk. He ran the oily rag over his hands, a failed attempt to clean up before meeting with the customer. He liked to do his own work, and it wasn't very often the heat would allow for him to be fully clothed while he was at it. Tossing the rag, which could then be recognized as the shirt he had most likely been wearing earlier that day, in to a trash can he nodded to Brittney, then paused beside the large desk. "Hello, I am Gunnar Scott, owner of BAD Enterprizes. How can I help you, Ms...?" Searching for her name, his bare upper body streaked with grease and damp from sweat. He didn't dare reach out to shake her hand, what with how dirty his own were. She didn't look like a woman to wanted to get dirt under her nails.

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Sabrina tapped her heels against the tile impatiently and awaited the blonde's answer. Brina knew it, she should have just forgot about owning a car completely and left it at that. What Necromancer needed a car anyway? She could just try to poof to places, but then again, where would she keep all of her bags? Eeep, never mind; a car was in due order. Her mind was on that dress shop downtown and she had no earthly idea that the secretary was looking at her like she was loony.

The sound of the door opening and shutting brought her out of her little daydream and she had to stifle something between a giggle and an 'oh my goodness' as one of the mechanics she guessed walked in. Well, Brina couldn't help but stare, but she kept her lips sealed from making a comment until it almost killed her. And being as bold as she was, she turned her head to the side and openly admired him before she looked straight at him. Yes, she was going to have to make a comment soon; that was just Brina for you. But when he introduced himself, Brina was sure her mouth flew open wide enough to let flies in. "I'm Sabrina McLeoud, or Brina. Pleasure ta meet yeh, Mr. Scott. Yeh know what they say 'bout women drivers; it be true." She grinned, making her heart-shaped face appear both cute and much like a mischievous child's as she held out her hand for him to shake. Even though he was dirty, it was polite and well, she could care less really. That's what GermX was for. "So did yeh git inta a fight with tha oil can, or are yeh jest tha' happy ta see a customer?" There it was, the Rude Brina commentary that always caused her trouble. Brina grinned, but knew she was blushing from her little outburst; which would most happen a lot today.

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Brittney, the secretary, was the daughter of one of the mechanics. She was young, and shy, and thus rarely actually spoke beyond answering the phone or questions directly at her about herself. When it came to business, a quick press of the large red button would buzz the shop area to inform them of the presence of a potential customer. The young girl smiled at Sabrina, swiveling in her chair to continue punching the keys of her cellphone in a lengthy text message. Anything to take her mind off work, not that she had much of a job to do anyways.

Gunnars dark blue jeans were streaked with oil as well, some of which looked new, and some of which looked worn and old. He didn't wear jeans often, but when in the shop, he enjoyed such comforts. The young woman infront of him seemed to be rather entranced by his entrance, and he cast a glance over his shoulder, twisting at the hip to gaze toward the door he had entered in a mock 'couldn't be me you're staring at' type of way, only to offer her a genuine smile when he turned to face her again. As his eyes fell upon her, it seemed her mouth had dropped open following his introduction. "The pleasure is mine, Birna. And please, call me Gunnar." His voice was a deep, raspy tone, chuckling at her 'women driver' comment quietly. His eyes never wandered over her as any other man surely would have. Gun had a strong sense of respect for customers. Perhaps if they had met at a bar within the city he would have allowed himself, but here, in his shop, he was a man of business. However, that is not to say that his mind didn't pick up the fact that she was beautiful- every woman had a sense of beauty about them, some just more than others. Birna would stand out in a crowd. He never hesitated when she reached out to shake his hand, obviously she had seen how dirty it was, and he wasn't about to be rude and deny the formal greeting. Large hand encased hers, a quick shake as he held eye contact, the smile never fading.

Arms spread, palms out and he leaned back slightly, gaze washing over the dirty calico hues on his bare upper body. Gunnar shrugged, grinning, "Always happy to see a customer, but I must say the oil can looks to have won this battle." lip line twisting from grin to a smirk, offering a quick wink after he spoke. "So have you come to look around, or is there something specific in mind?" Straight to business.