You can't hide what you are from me.

Ishiro Honda (via blurrymelancholy)

James Dean checks his car before a race in Palm Springs, March 1955.

PIE

"I’m a lot of things," she admitted with a smile, "Including that." Today she would probably be a mechanic, maybe a smuggler too, depending. Right now was sort of a grey area, since she wasn’t on the job yet, and she was pretty sure this guy wouldn’t tattle if she let something slip. People talked in bars and you couldn’t trust half of it to be true, no matter what time it was.

"Versatile lady. You’ll have all manner of captains beggin for your services." Someone that pretty who could ply her hand at multiple trades would never be wanting for cash. Roman rubbed one large hand over his face to further help him wake up. The coffee buzzed and he straightened. "Usually get a crowd of ‘em in around sundown, if you want to take your pick."

"Y'think so?" Her expression went a little thoughtful and a lot amused. "Maybe I'll take the afternoon off then. Come back later, auction off my services." Companions picked their clients; she'd never quite been able to get rid of that habit, especially since she had to have a look at the crate she was flying on before she got on it. "With your permission, o'course," she added. "Nothin' hinky. All legitimate business."

“Nah I break into other folk’s places of business and drink their booze. Half naked. Surprised you haven’t heard of me.” He chuckled, lowly, circling the bar. One hand ran along the smooth edge, clearly a habit and something of fondness to it. Then a sleepy yawn grumbled up his throat and he winced, reaching for a battered canister. “Coffee? Less o’course you prefer somethin stronger.”

Now there was a story she wouldn’t have minded overhearing in some bar. She would’ve ordered a round in his honour. “First time I been on world in a few months. Could be all sortsa new characters running around.” She’d join him for a drink regardless, but she wouldn’t approve of him stealing anything if he was. Ronnie followed and dropped herself into a seat, drumming her fingers on the bar. “Don’t see why it can’t be both. No inreputable captain would take on a mechanic that don’t smell a little bit like whiskey.”

"I'm a lot of things," she admitted with a smile, "Including that." Today she would probably be a mechanic, maybe a smuggler too, depending. Right now was sort of a grey area, since she wasn't on the job yet, and she was pretty sure this guy wouldn't tattle if she let something slip. People talked in bars and you couldn't trust half of it to be true, no matter what time it was.

“That would be mighty kind’a you.” Staying awake another couple hours wouldn’t hurt. And how could she stay no to such pleasant company? She wandered a few steps further in, taking a better look around. “I take it this fine establishment is yours?”

“Nah I break into other folk’s places of business and drink their booze. Half naked. Surprised you haven’t heard of me.” He chuckled, lowly, circling the bar. One hand ran along the smooth edge, clearly a habit and something of fondness to it. Then a sleepy yawn grumbled up his throat and he winced, reaching for a battered canister. “Coffee? Less o’course you prefer somethin stronger.”

Now there was a story she wouldn't have minded overhearing in some bar. She would've ordered a round in his honour. "First time I been on world in a few months. Could be all sortsa new characters running around." She'd join him for a drink regardless, but she wouldn't approve of him stealing anything if he was. Ronnie followed and dropped herself into a seat, drumming her fingers on the bar. "Don't see why it can't be both. No inreputable captain would take on a mechanic that don't smell a little bit like whiskey."

[x]