(OOC: Following the events of Cheese & Wine At The Wilhelm Gallery.)

IC:
The procuring of a painting by Jesús Herrera had not gone exactly according to plan but all that really mattered was that Paul had achieved his goal and was now the proud caretaker of a series of three flaming paintings by the renowned artist. However, these were the types of things that a person couldn't just store in their apartment. He had purchased a ticket for the event and he had introduced himself to several people which meant that it was quite likely the police would eventually make their way to his residence in order to get his statement. Whether they would consider him a witness or a suspect was anyones guess but Paul wasn't going to take any chances with the pieces he had spent so much time and effort to obtain.

This was what led Paul to find himself pulling up to what appeared to be a somewhat run down possibly even abandoned warehouse in his rented sedan. As he had been instructed by a friend or two from the shady side of the street, he had called a number and set up an appointment which led to his arrival. Stepping out of the vehicle Paul looked over the building with a slightly dubious expression but he knew better than anyone that you couldn't judge a book by its cover. After all, no one looking at him would guess he was almost a hundred years old. Likewise, looking at this building no one would guess that it was as secure a location as it was, at least if talk on the street was correct.

Leaving the small crate containing the paintings sitting in the back seat, Paul decided he wanted to get the lay of the land before he took his items in. Walking up to the door he lifted a hand and knocked firmly and then took a step back and began to wait. "Hopefully the owner is punctual..."

Sara was indeed on time and as she heard a car pull up outside, she glanced at the clock on her cell phone. He was punctual. That was a plus on Sara's list.

This Warehouse wasn't the only warehouse that Sara had come into possession of. As a matter of fact she had come into possession of 7 around the state of New York. All looking like they were in various needs of repair and yet there were still signs that Sara had been there. Mostly her foot prints and hair. If anyone questioned her presents it wasn't hard to explain that she was either training, or camping out. At least it had always worked in the past.

Trial and error.

Sara paused briefly, to pick up her drawing supplies. She'd been sketching while she waited and the half finished picture didn't need to be gawked at. She slipped the book and pens into a saddle bag that sat across the back seat of a dark cherry red Motorcycle. provided curtacy of a red scaly friend.

One less check over the warehouse, and Sara answered the door. Tail flicking at her heals. "Good afternoon. Come in." Sara wasted no time standing in the door way and motioned for Paul to follow her inside of a warehouse that looked like it stored almost nothing.

The floor was made of cement tiles, The walls had the bare minimum for decoration and most of them still displayd the building's frame work with almost no insulation. The only thing that looked like it might hold any type of importance was a large safe door that leaned against the far wall. that's right safe door. No hole safe.

The figure that met Paul at the door could only be described with one word... feline. It was a humanoid feline that spoke and moved with obvious grace and strength. Choosing not to react at the proprietors appearances he instead accepted the invitation and walked into the building. Pausing inside the door, Paul slowly looked around the warehouse, noting both the vastness of the space as well as the emptiness. For a place that had such a great reputation in the underworld it sure seemed like business needed vast improvement.

"Interesting... this is not what I expected to find." He murmured to himself before turning his attention back to the large cat. "Looks like this place has seen better days. If it weren't for the fact that you were obviously expecting me, I'd say I was in the wrong location."

So far Paul was not seeing anything that would change the opinion he had gotten from looking at the outside of the building. It still looked like a run down warehouse that most anyone could slip into without the slightest trouble. Unless this particular mutant was providing around the clock security by her own claws, then there was no way the paintings could be safe here. Surely he would have noticed some sort of security measures, after all, he was an experienced thief. No one had security that good... did they?

The corners of Sara's lips twitched up. She was pleased with this reaction. "Good. That means that I'm doing my job right. Paul right?" Sara asked raising an eye brow in his direction. "I run a business that provides storage for many different types of people. Some of the way this works is through a sort of honor and respect among thieves (And spies, and killers, and secret keepers.) if you will and I'm not a person who trusts anyone very easily. Naturally I do my best to keep some sort of anonymity between everyone but you found this business, other customers know about this business, and so do past customers. The good customers and the ones that I had to find a different method of receiving my payments from and in a growing world with people that are growing different abilities, no vault is 100% foolproof. .. .." Sara gave a one shoulder shrug. "But I have not had a problem yet."

The part that Sara didn't tell Paul, was part of the reason her security worked so well between the different individuals was fear and respect. Some clients did nothing but drip of it, but Sara could leave that for another day. "I opporate my business by three rules." Sara continued turning again to angle herself inside further and she walked to the safe door. Once there she picked it up. It was only about 12 inches wide by 16 inches tall. The dial on the front looked like the type of lock one would find on a high school gym locker. "One. You will pay me or notify me of a late payment on time. Other wise your property will be gone. I will not keep a possible risk around if I am not being paid. Two. Beyond providing a storage space, I am not involved. Three." Sara's amber eyes flicked up to look Paul in the face. Looking almost like she was measuring something as she studied his reaction so far. "Please have common sense."

"Now then. After hearing all that mumbo jumbo are you still interested in a storage unit?"

With a first name only transaction, Paul was perfectly comfortable with providing his real name. Until he learned to trust this particular feline there would be no providing a last name. "Paul is correct." He confirmed. Then it was on to what was probably her normal sales pitch. Honor, respect, anonymity, three rules, pay, no involvement, common sense, yada, yada, yada. Did she think she was working with an amateur? Someone who had never crossed over the line of truth and justice and all that nonsense?

"To be blunt, I'd like to take a look at the storage unit and if it has the security you say, then yes I'll be interested. For these particular items it'll only be short term, perhaps a month at most, but if it works out I may make arrangements for a semi-permanent unit." Paul replied calmly, his tone all business. She talked a good talk but so far he had yet to see any evidence that what she said was the truth. All that there was was a safe door that was not attached to anything. Real secure. "I didn't catch your name on the phone." He observed as he tried to assess exactly who he was dealing with. Obviously she was a mutant and obviously she couldn't just blend in with society like he could. Perhaps that was what had led her to this sort of business? Most shady individuals were quite happy working with anyone that could keep them safe from being collared by the cops, mutant or not.

To Sara, she liked people being blunt. It was the iffy wishy washy people that she found that she had to watch out for. So Sara had a small smile on her face by the time he finished his part of the conversation. She could respect that. "Well the sooner we start the sooner we can go off for lunch then." Sara had finished dusting off the front of the safe door and gave the combination lock a spin as if it were nothing but the simple piece to a child's board game. This reset the lock to start from the top of the combination incase it hadn't been ready to do that already.

"I'm known by either Sara or Were. Take you're pick." She said with a shrug and it was off to work. She walked to the wooden floor boards that lined the right side of the warehouse. The set up looked like it once was an office area with a make shift office style kitchen but the only thing that had been left of the kitchen was a mini fridge left unplugged. Sara set the Safe door down on the floor, then readjusted where it sat on the boards. Counting them first from the side. Then taking her hand and using it to measure how far the door sat from the edge of another board. For her to open the storage unit the door had to be exactly in the right place.

She then, Quick and as well practiced as a champion, street fighter, x-box wizz she spun out a three numbered combination just like it were a normal lock that you could buy at the store. Only between each number and spin Sara pushed down a side on the safe door. This lowered a magnet on the other side that she hadn't shown Paul. The magnets operated hidden switches in the floor boards that acted much the way that a home security system would work when you put it on a door with it's magnet sensors. (Luke would be so proud.........)

Sara finished, and obediently, a section of the cement floor lifted an inch on one side. Carried up by a hidden hinge and the type of springs one would find in their car's shocks... or in the case of one unlucky driver the day Sara received this part... What he did not find.

Without waiting for a reaction, Sara walked over, abandoning the safe door on the floor, and hoisted the heavy trap door. The top of it was made of cement. under that, there was a steal panel and once Sara had openned the door wide enough a dim light flicked on at her feet. Revealing steps that led into a cement hallway below.

"Some people bring a car jack for the doors." Sara said off-handedly as she took a stop watch out of her pocket and started it. "But once the door is open, it will stay like this for now."

"Well the sooner we start the sooner we can go off for lunch then." The feline replied before turning and walking toward some sort of office area while carrying the safe door. What was it with the safe door? Did she have an attachment to it for some reason or was she simply disposing of some trash? And another question... was lunch included in this business transaction or was it simply one of those polite phrases that actually carry no meaning. So many things to ponder in so few steps, Paul had to grin ever so slightly at the thoughts cascading one after the other through his mind.

"I'll stick with Sara, thanks. I've never been a huge fan of what some people refer to as 'code names'." Paul responded with a slight chuckle. He was definitely not a special agent or any sort of super hero. Heck, who in their right mind would do that kind of stuff anyway? "'Code names' are for super heroes and that stuff and there is no way you would ever catch me in spandex."

Once they reached what appeared to have once been some sort of kitchen area, the reason for the lock became more apparent. It was the key to what was a very secure latch and key mechanism. Sure it was more complicated than that but basically all locks boiled down to a latch and key. "Car jacks? Really?" Paul asked with raised eyebrow, "So you made a door heavy enough that most people can't lift it? I guess that works for security."

Mounting the steps, Paul head down into the hallway below. From the stop watch that Sara had pulled it he assumed that there was a limited amount of time for the door to stay open but he wasn't particularly concerned as long as Sara was in here with him. "So, you said you have nothing to do with my stuff after I put it here. Does that mean when I need to get it out I'll be handling the door by myself or will I need to set up a follow up appointment with you?"

Sara gave a one shoulder shrug in reply to the comment about code names. "Mine was picked out for me a long time ago. Just some people find it fun still. By the way. I think spandex is out and leather pants are in for crime fighters."

"I didn't make the door that heavy on purpose." Sara pointed to the car shocks that she had used at the hinge of the door in an attempt to make the load lighter. "I just haven't figured out a different system yet that will be as reliable and shut as well. With the added assistance of the four springs, the door weighs about 200 pounds. The good news is as the door is supported more on the hinge, the lifting the door up part does get lighter."

Sara lead the way down the steps. jumping the last three for the heck of it to land almost playfully at the bottom, while still holding mostly a professional air. "As for if I need to be here or not, that is up to you. If my assistance is needed, I can try to be here, but once you know how to get into your area, I don't foresee that being an issue."

The two of them came to a cross walk where another cement walled tunnel crossed this one but Sara went straight. Those two storage units were already occupied. Bare, 40 wat, light bulbs hung from, short, cords that dangled from the ceiling like old fashioned lanterns. Casting a sterile glow across the walls at the two of them. Sara's beeper went off and with a low grumble she turned it off for the moment. "At our feet are some pressure panels that I didn't have to work out myself. They're made by a company called Jacobs and Jacobs." and they fit and worked so nicely under cheep carpet or dirt.

Eat your heart out Luke. Sara thought to herself vindictively.

"You step in someone else's hallway,. .. .." She stopped and left it at that. Self explanatory. "Some of my clientele might take it personal." Sara stopped in the center of the hall way for a moment. "How big of storage area did you need?"

"Leather pants aren't much better." Paul replied with a smirk, "Just take a look at some of those teenager that are going dancing."

Falling silent Paul didn't bother to conceal his surprise at the weight of the door. Two hundred pounds? Apparently this kitty cat had enhanced strength because most men weren't going to come in and lift two hundred pounds by themselves. Two men could probably do it comfortable but not just one by himself. That meant at least some inconvenience but it also meant added security. And then when she started to talk about the pressure plates he felt another mark get tabulated in his mind.

"Nothing to large. At first I'm only going to store a few items so whatever you have available will be fine." Paul responded as he glanced down the two hallways and then continued following his feline guide. "Is Jacobs and Jacobs a good company? I was on the west coast for a long time and I don't recall their name."

The walk down the hallway was interesting and already he had come to the decision that this would be the perfect location to store his merchandise. If some detective was able to trace the painting to this location then he deserved a medal and a major increase in pay.

"If you don't mind my asking," He began as a couple of questions popped into his mind, "how did you get into this business? And how do you know so much about security?"

So far Sara had no qualms with her new client. He seemed to take her rules in stride, though feel she didn't need to say them, and he had a good sense of humor.

She dug through her pockets for a moment to find the stop watch and check the time. It was more for something to do and to feel busy while she decided on what unit Paul should have from here.

"Jacobs & Jacobs are a fine company. At the moment it's run by a nice man named Oliver Jacobs." Sara began her answer to all of his sudden questions. The full explanation was more complicated than she cared to tell Paul and also all of his questions had their own connections. "A few years ago, I was contracted by the younger of the Jacobs & Jacobs to test out the security systems that they developed and set up in homes. While working for Jacobs & Jacobs, and before that, I was also a thief. I worked everything from stealing and running jobs for different individuals in the underworld, to pick pocketing for myself."

Sara finished fiddling with the stop watch and placed it back in her pocket. They still had plenty of time. She then selected a panel on the wall and pulled it open revealing two locks. Two keys were produced from yet another pocket, and turning them together, Sara pulled the storage unit door open. Mean while her story had continued. "I had grown tired of being shot for other people's jobs and cash, so I took my contacts and knowledge and combined them." Lord knew that there wasn't much else that Sara could do as a carrear right now.

So... the feline had been a professional thief and then ended up actually working for a security company. This was looking better and better. Obviously she had at least some sort of morals, otherwise no one could trust her with their valuables, but she also had a willingness to commit small crimes. Perhaps she was simply focused on committing crimes that didn't actually hurt anyone and that was why she using stealing and pick pocketing?

Stepping over to the now open door, Paul scanned the empty room quickly. That part was just like any typical storage area. A room with only one entrance and what looked like solid concrete walls. "I was a pick pocket for a while. It was the start of a few wild and crazy times." He stated casually, with the ghost of a smile on his face. The memory of a girl in a red dress flashed through his mind but then he was back in the here and now. That had been a long time ago... a very long time.

"I'll take it. The security looks great and the discretion looks even better. If you don't mind sticking around a minute or two to keep that big door open, I'll grab the items out of my car and get them security stashed away." He had come to his decision and was feeling quite pleased with it. Sara had a good facility and it would suit his purposes quite well. Reaching in his pocket he pulled out a small stack of folded bills. Pausing, he met the cat's eyes to ask one more question, "We didn't discuss price. How much a month?"

Ahhh a fellow x-pick pocketer. Sara knew exactly how complicated and entertaining things could get when pick pocketing. Also how bad things could go fast for either the pick pocketer, or the pick pocketee. Sara nodded to agree with this.

A smile curved across Sara's face as she listened to the compliment. She was rather proud of her little business. "For this size of unit, I ask for 450 dollars a month." The space was the size of a large closet. 3 feet wide, 5 feet deep and just tall enough that the ceiling scraped Sara's 6 foot tall head.

Sara's tail flicked. Some individuals complained about her price but right now, as far as Sara's specific type of storage had a monopoly. At least as far as she knew. Sara thought that she had her prices were fair. Some garage sized storage units in New York City, cost twice as much as this little one and all someone needed was a good set up bolt cutters.

For many people the idea of 450 a month might seem like a lot but for someone that knew how fragile supposedly good security really was, it was a bargain price. The security was good here, not perfect, but good, and more important the secrecy was even better. "Fair price for the amenities it provides." Paul replied as he counted off four hundred dollar bills and one fifty. That left him with another couple of hundred dollars in his hand which he promptly returned to his pocket. He was in the habit of carrying enough cash to accomplish what he needed to do but not so much that he looked like either an easy mark or a snobby rich person. "If you don't mind hanging out, I'll be right back."

Turning back the way they had come, Paul broke into a jog that had him up the stairs and back out to his car in only a few moments. After gathering his crate out of the back seat he walked steadily back inside and headed for the stairs. "I noticed you checking your watch when we came in." He called down the hallway as he took the first step and then the second, "How long does this door stay open before it closes us in?"

Sara accepted the cash. She did a quick count of it for herself, and out of habit, then tucked in into an inner pocket of her vest. Their translation was complete, not it was just to finish the business part of the bargain and practice her customer service skills.

Sara nodded to the request to keep the door open till he came back. She still needed to give him his combinations but that could wait for a moment. "The door will stay open 15 minutes, or until someone on the outside removes the safe door." There was one way to get out from the inside, but Sara had no wish to show that off to anyone. At least not yet.

As Paul went to his car to get what ever it was that he was choosing to store at her storage units, Sara kicked aside the safe door, then placed it back and redialed the combination to reset it's timer.

With the time reset it was relatively simple to lug the crate down to the storage unit and lock it safely away. Once that was complete and both he and Sara were back to the surface, Paul simply stood back to watch the feline close the impressive entrance to the storage area. It was nice to know that his less than legally acquired merchandise would be so secure.

"So tell me, with your storage business going do you still get out and pull the occasional job?" Paul asked in a very straight forward tone. Even though he was at least semi-retired himself he still did the occasional job and sometimes that meant getting a partner or even a team to pull it of. If Sara was still in the game then he'd definitely have to keep her mind. Although, even if she was still performing the odd job, why would she tell him? Honestly she didn't know him from Adam.

"I don't do it to often any more but sometimes I still take on a client." Paul offered, perhaps trying to make her just a tad bit more comfortable, "As I'm sure you know, you can't pull off every job solo so I'm always on the look out for qualified associates instead of the idiots you can find in every alley way."