[center][h3]A GOLDEN SPOON PRODUCTION![/h3][/center]

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	Jeremiah froze, then after a second of thought the man smiled, his eyes still on his work before him, “smart man.” There was a squeak as he turned a bolt tightly back into place, his hands still jittery. 

	“Idle hands make idle minds, and idle minds…” He looked up from his work and turned his head to look at Lynnette, elbows deep inside the open motocycle, “well, idle minds are just... terrible.”

“Or bored.” Lynnette amended. “So tell me, what brings you to these parts.” She indicated the room with a sweeping gesture.

	“These parts,” Jeremiah nodded at her motorcycle, “well actually my own rigg, I left something on board, but then I saw this mess.” His Omni-Tool beeped as there was a sudden clunk of metal.

	“Fixed mess.” He smiled. 

“And now I feel bad about asking Eimi to fix my tablet.” Lynnette said. After a moment she muttered “Well worse..” She pushed herself away from the wall and walked over to Jeremiah. “I must’ve been close to fixing it if it took you less than an hour.” She said as she looked at the bike over his shoulder. “Honestly I’ve been seriously considering replacing her”, [i]her[/i] being the motorcycle of course. “She’s been something of a temperamental bitch as of late.”
	
“I mean, she is an old model, I was amazed she even had a omni brand computer in her,” Jeremiah looked back down at the bike, shoving his hands in his pockets. He began fumbling with a piece of lint. He seemed to almost dance in place as he thought until he finally said, “but I wouldn’t junk her.”

“Hmmm….” Lynn adopted a thoughtful expression. “It’s not like I want to junk her,” She commented, “but she’s pretty much past the point where I can maintain her. I’m honestly surprised her computer hasn’t crashed on me yet.” That last part she muttered. “I’m sure Eimi would just [i]love[/i] it if I dragged my bike over to her room and asked her to fix it.” As amusing as the thought actually was, certainly enough to bring a smile to her face, it would probably result in Eimi murdering her in one form or another.

Jeremiah raised a brow, a worried look on his face, “you’ve been asking her to fix stuff for you?”

“Yea. Basically anything that has a processor in it seems to stop working after I’ve handled it for a few minutes.” She sighed. “If there is a God of Computers out there or something, he has a serious hate boner for me.”

“Or just a boner, I mean he has somehow spared you from Eimi this long,” Jeremiah shook his head and turned back to the bike, hiding a smile from his own joke, “but you’re bike is fine if you ask me, and it’s something to do.”

“That’s gross” She didn’t sound disgusted in the least. “Hmm… I might hold onto it for a while longer then. It's a moot point right now though, not like I can buy a new bike till this current job is over anyways.”

Jeremiah took a few steps away from the bike towards his own vehicle: a single pilot space craft meant for quick trips., it looked a lot like a bullet shaped fighter jet of yore, guns omitted and a beige coat. He let his back fall against its hull, the cold tingling through his shirt and causing him to squirm a little. He folded his arms and looked back at Lynnette and her bike, and honestly the location of the first genuine conversation he has had with her. His brow furrowed, his curiosity pushing the rest of the lingering effects of joy into the back of his mind.

“D-do you like doing these jobs?” he rockily attempted to segway the conversation.

“Hmmm…. I’m not sure like is the correct word.” Lyn answered after a moment. “It does remind me of when I worked in the force though. And I do prefer helping people directly over chasing down felons.” She shrugged. “I know that’s not a real answer, but well…. How about you?”

	Jeremiah seemed to take a long hard thought, his nose scrunching as he looked upwards in question, “you know, I can’t really say I ever thought about it too much. Wait… what did you do on the force anyways?” He let his arms fall to his sides, one hand silently tapping the hull of the ship, “can’t imagine you were much of a ticket puller, not with those punches I’ve seen you throw.”

	Lyn chuckled as she leaned over her bike and looked it over. “Well…” She began as turned it on and revved the engine once. “I actually did start off as a traffic cop.” She flashed Jeremiah a smile. “I was actually assigned a bike very similar to this one.” She patted the bike’s seat. “Of course I didn’t stay a traffic cop for long. And I eventually moved on to SWAT.”

	“On the moon right?” he pointed a finger and smiled, “SWAT on the moon, like something out of a comic book- well… some comic books.”

	She flashed Jeremiah a smile entirely devoid of mirth. “NAPD would definitely fit in some kind of gritty comic book world.”

	“N.A.?” Jeremiah cocked his head. 

	“New Angeles.” Lyn answered. “Not a place I’d move back to.”

	“I- I think I actually heard of that place,” Jeremiah tapped the ship rhymically, “a real tough spot, makes the news quite a bit but in the wrong sort of way. Wait… that isn’t the place that didn’t have a mayor for like three days because no one wanted the position is it?”

	“It was more like a week when you ignore the cat they declared mayor.” Lyn snorted. “Yea, you can’t make this sort of crap up. Though, in reality there were a number of individuals acting as mayor who just didn’t take the official title.”

	“Well with the crime rate, I wouldn’t want it,” Jeremiah shrugged, “not that I’d want to be a mayor either way.”

	A genuine smile crept along Jeremiah’s face, whether it was the tickle of the joy or the fact that for once he was enveloped in an actual conversation, and enjoying himself to boot, he wasn’t sure, but it was pleasant. 

	“So why did you choose the Absolute Magnitude?” He found himself asking.

	“The ship needed someone with my skills and I wanted a job that would take me offworld.” Lyn said with a shrug. “Almost any other ship would have worked. Hell had I known about Poole’s past at the time I probably wouldn’t have joined.” She shrugged again before returning the question. “How about you?”

	“Wait, what’s so bad about Poole?” Jeremiah stood up straight, fingers still tapping the ship’s hull in an offbeat. 

“Besides the fact he’s a red felon?”

	“So what!” Jeremiah narrowed his eyes, “he is a good man.”

	“Red felons are serial killers, criminal kingpins, and the murders of children” Lyn slowly stated. “The likes of which do not make good men. I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt and assuming Poole was a spy or something else less heinous than those.”

	Jeremiah pursed his lips, clearly frustrated. A flurry of words crossed his mind, things to say, but it was all erupting too fast, he couldn’t cognate a response. In truth a piece of him wanted to lash out and protect Poole, but he wasn’t sure if it was because Poole needed to be defended, or if he needed to justify something else. He turned from Lyn, realizing how silly it must be to suddenly face the solid blank hull of his ship.

	“Labels of a broken system,” he muttered as he finally popped the cockpit hatch of his ship.

	“What was that?” Lyn asked, not quite hearing Jeremiah’s response.
	“It doesn’t really matter,” Jeremiah said a little louder as he climbed up into the cockpit, “No offense but I don’t think I’m about to change the opinion of the Moon’s Finest.”

	“Uh huh” Lyn responded with a raised eyebrow. “You spend a few years dealing with the worst types society has to offer and maybe you’ll have something different to say.”

	“You’re right, all I’ve ever had was peaches and cream,” Jeremiah scoffed, “who the fuck am I to think different.”

	“It’s always like this with you” Lyn said with a shake of her head. “Let’s not do this right before an important job.” She turned to leave, but paused to say “Thanks… for helping with my bike.”

	“Sure,” Jeremiah grunted with a strange mixture of anger, frustration, and genuine helpfulness. After a moment he growled to himself and spoke up as she was just leaving, “anytime.”