"All I know for sure is, we should get going--my car. They should know yours by now...which one--the Prism?" I asked, having put a "make" on that car while I was checking out the parking lot.
"Ye..." She ended the syllable with a puzzled look. I was beginning to get on her nerves--you'd think the older ones would have more patience, but her and Methos pretty much are the same on that score--I irritate!
"It has rental written all over it. You...you're not a Prism kind of girl...you'll like my car."
I was playing. Nobody loves my Camaro. Only I love my Camaro--it's vintage. It's heavily tricked out--one day, my machine is going to get stolen. I know it will. I had the paint job vamped up--candy apple red--it is a ho-mobile. Okay--it's exactly what you picture me driving. And it's fast. Man, I love my car. And you know what? I don't even know what year car it is, I just knew when I saw it that it was a fast freaking car. All I do is, pull her up to the garage and say--"Treat her right, I got the money." So you know what I do with it every other day when I'm not getting it treated right, right?
Beating the ever-loving crap out of it. That's right. You're getting to know me pretty well. Cassandra didn't even say a word when she got her gear together (girl knows how to travel light--she packed it up in minutes, like she was used to traveling), and she certainly didn't say anything when I hauled one of her shoulder bags into my machine. She simply looked at it.
"It doesn't bite...I mean, it's totally street legal."
"It will stand out like a sore thumb!" she complained.
"So? Anath-Sin's car should be nothing less," I joked. "I drive in style. We're going to buzz by my apartment."
"If they think you're that woman--they know where you live."
"So?" I shrugged. "They're the ones with the problem, if they step on my turf." I got the oddest look out of that. I elaborated. "My apartment. I signed the lease--I've got rights. Somebody home-invades my behind--I got legal issues with that--see?"
"Okay, you have a point," she admitted. "But why would we be stopping there? I saw your trunk--you've...you do have a way with...self-armament." A sly smile played at her lips--I think she was ragging me.
"I like the guns--I like the swords--so sue me." I smiled in return, just so she knew I took no offense. "I packed for the wrong thing--I knew you were seeing a little trouble--those people following...uh, us. But I packed the way Genevieve would--and, well, it's the wrong image. And besides, I have to book a flight."
"A flight--and, image?"
"Image--I have some things...I want to get myself a little--ancient. You know--I think I'm keeping the persona, because I can't get into anymore trouble than I'm already in. And the flight? We're Paris-bound."
"Paris?" She looked at me doubtfully--not in the way someone who *doesn't* know what's going on looks at another person--but in the way someone who knows exactly what's going on does.
"If you're seeing action--and I'm seeing action--Methos is seeing action. It wouldn't be right, me leaving his @ss hanging out there like that."
"And I'm coming with..."
"Yes, I'm afraid so. And, I haven't been all that thrilled with him lately myself. But, whatever you think about him--come on--we can't let those schmucks get to him, can we?"
I stopped for a stop sign (man, after a solid decade of practicing the "Philly roll" at stop signs--says something) for a bit while I got a look at her face. Part of her was perfectly cool with the idea of his antique behind getting the Ginsu treatment from these Game hags. But she knew better--and I damn well expected that she would. She paused just about forever, and then grinned.
"If we get out of this--*all* of us--he'll owe me."
"That's the spirit," I agreed. And I meant that. He could certainly stand being a bit in her debt--humbles him properly, so to speak. And maybe puts her in a position to get that "closure" he was interested in.
You know me, folks. Hopeless romantic. Can't leave stuff alone?
Posted on Aug 10, 2000, 7:17 PM from IP address 172.163.174.243