[i]“I expected to be the anxious one…”[/i] The whisper quiet humming coming from within the man’s headgear was barely noticeable with the purring motorcycles leaving their skidding marks across another street corner sidewalk. Scarlett could feel his shivering bones with the gentle grasp of her fingertips. His fear layered like a blanket of snow, accumulating with time into a heavy stiffness in their bony shoulders. His mannerisms bringing about an unorthodox feeling of calm. Her steadily beating heart tunneling deeper into head until it became the center of attention. Her eyes too focused on the road, releasing a soft exhale of warmth upon his neck by being unobservant. An aching guilt of unsubstantiated suspicion felt comparable to her old wisdom teeth digging into her gums, firmly grabbing the man’s shoulder and slowly pressing her thumbs in-between his blades, pushing the stabbing tension that was thick enough to cut with a knife, alleviated with an audible crack. His silence implied acquiescence as she continued to nonchalantly massage his back for a moment. She noticed how Ethan had a very similar frame...de-stressing after a long day that needing to be unwound. Her fingertip acting as the needle untangling the ball of yarn yearning to be free from the knots. [i]“Wait…”[/i] She thoughtlessly touched the side her helmet to wipe the heart pinned on her sleeve as a tiny shard ran down her cheek, cutting far beyond the flesh. Cursing at herself under her breath, when a sudden shift off course kept her mindset on the right track. A sharp left passing the high security garages with guard towers, and fences seemingly designed to protect against invading armies which always seemed a little overkill for just protecting your car... Regardless of her digression, this direction was wrong! The older gentlemen leading them came to a brief stop, letting the cargo truck cross the intersection while lighting his favorite addiction beneath the flickering flame, shutting it then stuffing it with the pack in his pocket. “Hey, I’m parched and I overheard through the grapevine that there’s an establishment nearby that makes a good ‘Chronic Twister’. As a frequent bar hopping aficionado, I figured it would be a pleasant respite.” His airy explanation using veiled words as thin as the smoke blown by the subtle breeze. The only thing she needed to consider was if the intention was malingered or malignant...but she still required a ride. “What? But we passed by that place that had those Fried Jalapenos. You know I love those.” The girlfriend complained stepping on the gas pedal. Scarlett used her last reserve of patience to stay reserved, repeating her reminder that her rewards would be reaped, the reluctant catch-up as the other two raced forth. “That’s partially because you were temperamental and nearly blinded that young waitress with that shot glass for asking for my number. And my apology, followed by my cash merely lessens the length you’ve been prohibited under any circumstances to enter.” He chided in response without hesitation, maintaining his lead despite her attempts to pull ahead. “Pft. What’s tempura mental even supposed ta’ mean?” She grumbled. [i]“Don’t worry Scarlett, one detour won’t kill you…”[/i] [hr] They arrived at their deviation destination, a few wasted minutes later they parked and headed into the unfamiliar alleyway, it didn’t even look like anything was open. A quick argument for his girlfriend to let Scarlett use her robes to cover the bloodstains, so she wouldn’t raise wariness and returning it once cleaned up and the altercation aftermath. Scarlett simply countered the suggestion with the logic that keeping herself exposed would go further into indicating their wasn’t anything to hide. The girlfriend removed her cloak and revealed her punk attire. She ambled behind as the couple held hands, questioning why it seemed like he knew exactly where he was going...also noting the third wheel stood by his motorcycle like his feet were stuck in cement. “Chaz is a highly spiritual fellow. Won’t enter bars unless it’s for a job. So he can just watch over all the equipment we left behind.” He explained with a smile, turning his head around and looking into her eyes. “But I’ve been authorized to keep an eye on you. So feel free to order something, it’s on me.” Scarlett answered with a nod, spotting the bouncer at the entrance as the three casually approached. A weapons check was becoming commonplace in this city’s nightlife. Much as Scarlett didn’t want to be without Beretta’s, her options were limited. The man stepped forward, inhaling and exhaling his cigarette. The girlfriend put on the kindest smile she could muster. “Greetings, I’ve heard you’re open to passerby. My colleague over there was attacked and could use a strong drink and a sink.” He spoke chummily. Admittedly, that was an effective way to put it...now they waited...