MY BUSINESS - MY RULES.

       “once.”

          she wonders how many times they’ve done this song &. dance. no matter what was said, no matter what was done— it always seemed to end with one of them looking down the barrel of the other’s gun.

          or, in jesse’s case, countless. not all of them wore the deadlock cut. his defection from the gang rippled much further than ashe had initially realized. it seemed there were always echoes of his brief spout as judge, jury &. executioner.

          “y’don’t want it to be like this, jesse? you wanna go back to family?”

          her voice comes even.

“until it ceases to make a noise, yes,” she is obviously joking, but there is little that can stop her pleased grin from appearing. “yes, yes, okay. i can take a hint.” she can, but she won’t listen to it. eventually, arms fold over her chest, and her head tilts in curiosity.

“it has been a long while since you requested jobs and information from us. i thought we were too goody-two-shoes for your taste, hm? we do not dabble in bounties or assassination like we used to, mon ami.”

        “didn’t think you’d be missin’ me.” ashe gives a smile of her own— however strained &. however thinly it veils her irritation at her persistence. their crew was just one of the ones she went to for work— &. what she couldn’t get from them, she’d just get elsewhere.

          “—leave it to overwatch to swoop in an’ save the day, right?”

          she slams the supply truck full of nulltroopers &. detonators— what was left of them, anyways. a pat to the roof signals the driver’s departure, leaving ashe &. the much taller ex-crusader alone with the pungent smell of diesel.

          this sickens her, but it’s about what’s best for the gang.

          “at least we’re on the same playin’ field, this time. just a few criminals helping criminals, you just pretend to mean well.”

“have you returned for a job, or to see if your boyfriend wants to ride with you again, hm?”

         the rumble of the engine used to be so peaceful, but after that, she’s not so pleased to be hearing it. the ignition key is turned, her bike switching to accessory &. choking the engine noise.

         “hey, don’t close the gate on this thing, yeah?” she calls to one of the club mechanics— earning a look that she’s not sure if it’s confusion or fear. ashe tends to her bike, wheeling it into the garage as she takes note of the creature’s shape in her side-view. “I don’t know if this thing’s gotta have sun- light, an’ I don’t plan to be fixing our garage shutters if it runs through ‘em.”

         begrudgingly, the mechanic obliges. ashe waits until the creature gets closer to the garage— then turns on the cruiser’s seat, looking at the thing.

     There comes a pinched, breathless gasp of pain as she eases herself down on the seat of the bike, the back of one hand coming up to press against the ridge of her jaw as she shifts her leg around to lift the weight from her pinched wires. Her forehead array glimmers with shame as she does so, and she reaches down, rubbing at her knee.

     “I’m really sorry about this, ma’am,” she starts, voice breaking off with a wince, “I can’t imagine what kind of first impression I’ve made… I’ll be alright in a few moments, I just need — ah — a second to sit.”

     — Which wasn’t total dishonesty, really; she would be fine, if she could get through the plating around her knee joint so that she could reach and readjust the wires beneath it, but she’d lost her screwdriver three states ago, and she couldn’t undo the plating without it. Still, though, she hates being an inconvenience, and this woman going out of her way for someone she doesn’t know is — while flattering — mortifying.

     “I, ah… Like your bike,” Rain manages to say awkwardly after a second, looking to both make friendly conversation and take attention away from herself.

         an act of goodwill is uncommon from the rebel leader, but the rough shape that the omnic (ashe hadn’t caught her name yet, didn’t think she had, anyway) was in makes her sympathetic— reminding herself any one of her family could’ve ended up the same way if it wasn’t for her help.

         “you’re kidding?” she asks in jest as she rifles through various toolboxes, momentarily glancing over her shoulder at her; her hat’s off by now, sitting next to rain on the cruiser’s seat. “don’t mean to deny our guest what she’d like, but you’ll damage it more that way. at least let me take a look at it.”

         she finally manages to find the right bit for the job— sticking it in her belt. she continues rummaging, retrieving smaller diameters for the same bit. bob, she remembers, had the same bit in different sizes— part of her hopes it’ll be that simple.

         “—thanks, sugar. got an eye for bikes, do ‘ya?” a little chuckle from the rebel, returning to her now. she moves her hat, resting next to her on the seat, glancing over at her. “it’s custom, new parts here an’ there. liked the gauges off the old bikes, just figures they’d make all of that digital, yeah?”

         she chuckles. the awkwardness the other presented was endearing. ashe offers her hand for a handshake.

“… oh.” blinks twice, icy hues looking towards the machine. she clears her throat, and gives it a nod. “hello… bob.” attention back to the woman, head canting just a bit in curiosity. “… where did you find him?”

         next to the bemused bandit, the atlas mech places his hat to his chest, waving pleasantly at the younger woman. his bowler hat lingers there, as ashe’s arms cross, brow lifted, smile absent.