Of all the cars that Lori had stolen and inevitably driven through something, the yellow hummer was by far her favorite.

It had been knocked over by Kaitlyn's blast, Lori and Mars had decided to take adopt Kaitlyn in it and that was a decision the Order Leader never regretted, Lori had even driven Kyle to his first sword battle in the big yellow beast.

There was nostalgia in every ding.

That was why Lori was sad when, not two blocks from the Sanctuary garage, the Hummer puttered to death. Lori hit the brake, heard a clunk that could not be healthy and ended up swerving the thing off the road in order to avoid hitting the car in front of her.

Her hands didn't always work the best, especially under stress.

The hummer took out two empty and abandoned newspaper dispensers before stopping with one wheel on top of a big blue mailing center.

The Hummer was in sad shape. It had a giant dent in the passenger side door that made the door all but useless, paint scrapes and divots on the driver's side from the vehicle's time laying on its side, oil stains in the back and of course, the crunches on front end thanks to it's most recent exploits. That wasn't even counting the (probably not so mysterious) reason why it had quit working and that horrible clunk that had happened when she tried to jam the breaks.

People honked as the Order Leader climbed down out of the driver's seat and went back to look for whatever had fallen out of the undercarriage. The part was round and used to be attached by wires. When she picked it up, it left thick grease smudges on her hands. Ew. Lori didn't mind getting down and dirty, but not when she was dressed so cute.

Despite the cold, she was wearing a slinky white dress that stopped above the knee and was trimmed with gold. She'd left her hair down and long and the usually short woman clacked back up the road in gold heels tall enough to do any hooker proud.

So much for that New Year's party Mars had urged her to go to.

Noticing a repair shop located near her debacle, Lori decided to knock and see if anyone was home despite the hour. Most respectable places would be closed by now, but Lori wasn't interested in respectability. Besides, wasn't this the place Aura had been telling her about?

"Hello?"

Travis had been sipping on a mug of hot chocolate and reading a Popular Mechanics magazine when he heard the crash. Being the man he was, he set the magazine down, took one last sip, and moved towards his coveralls hanging on a hook by the door. He was wearing nothing more than a pair of jeans and a white beater, but with the coveralls he was now putting on and the steel toed boots he always wore, he would be more than protected from the frigid elements. He had been staying awake to celebrate the New Years that was to occur in a couple of hours, but it seemed he wouldn’t be doing it as he had planned.

Oh well, maybe something good would come out of it.

Moving down the stairs that led from where he lived to where he worked, he opened the door, closed and locked it behind him, and moved towards where the sound of a knock could be heard. His eyes lit up ever so slightly as he spied the person on the other side of the glass, and inside his mind, he smiled at the thought that perhaps fate had sent him a bit of kindness this holiday season. For someone who ultimately was alone most of the time, the holidays were very depressing… what good were they if you had no one to spend them with? Being an orphan, he had no family that he knew of, and it wasn’t like he was dating anyone at the time… and here was a lovely damsel in distress, who had need of his mechanical prowess, more than likely.

With a practiced motion, he unlocked the door, and let her in out of the cold. Wearing what she was, it was more than likely freezing outside for her at the moment. Travis himself was always rather resilient to the cold, even when not wearing a whole lot of protective clothing. Letting her in, he clicked on the main lights for the waiting room, and took a look behind her at the scene that was laid out before her. Damn… looked like he would have to get his morning paper from another bin by the looks of it… the Hummer had taken them out.

Oh well.

“I would ask ‘what can I do for you’, but at this point, I think it’s pretty apparent. The name’s Travis.” he stated, holding a hand out to shake hers in greeting. Noticing the chunk of car that usually was supposed to be attached in her hand, he then moved to take the greasy object from her to set in the shop. “I don’t think you are going anywhere without this… I can either bring the car into the shop and give you a ride, or you can hang out here while I assess the damage.”

Her first priority? Skitter in out of the cold! While her mutation loved it, she could practically feel the hairs on her legs trying to grow despite a thorough shave.

Second priority was to assess the threat. She looked up and up and up. This was a familiar feeling for Lori, even in heels. Mars was over a foot taller than her too. Why were all the mutant men so dang tall? And charming? It became apparent from the moment he opened his mouth that he had a good head on his shoulders and a personality. Good humor too.

Lori passed the metal piece to Travis and tried very hard not to wipe her hands on her white dress. Or touch anything really. It was a mechanic's shop, but that didn't mean the whole thing was a napkin. "Lori. I... yeah." Okay, so no amount of explaining was going to cover what his eyes had already seen. There was no getting out of this one. She had run over a couple things and the vehicle was still half on top of one of them.

"Do you think you can get it in here or should I get it off the mailbox, at least?" Well, since there was no covering it up, she wasn't going to be bothered being ashamed by it either. And since he was a mutant there was no point in being shy about that either.

He was right that she wasn't going anywhere without that part, but it was more than that. This hummer held some serious nostalgia for Lori. The party? Well, it hadn't been her idea in the first place.

The woman moved in out of the cold without hesitation nor remorse, and it was obvious she was not a cold-resilient creature. To each their own, of course, but it was a smidge more than he knew before about the rather beautiful woman… but there was something about her demeanor that spoke of strength… something about the way she walked and carried herself that made him instinctively feel that this was not the dainty thing that she appeared to be.

Travis set the bit of guts from her vehicle on the counter, on top of a rag, of course, to not stain his counter, and grabbed a clean rag, which used to be a shirt, and tossed it to the woman before her so she could wipe her own hands. There was a couple of hidden tests in this action, but he wouldn’t speak of them for the moment… just little inquiries that could answer silent questions without speaking a word. She didn’t shake his hand with the clean hand, but that was fine too, most people didn’t… maybe Travis was just old fashioned.

Taking another look at the damage through the large windows, Travis chuckled a little at the sight again. “No problem… I’ll get it into the shop. Stay here and stay warm… it’ll only take a couple minutes.” There wasn’t anything in the shop she had access to that was worth stealing, unless she was going to go after the Shop Awards posted on the wall for various achievements or the photos of the mechanics in his employ so one could match a name to a face. With a bit of time, the roar of his own truck engine, and a tow bar, he had the Hummer free of obstacles. While the Hummer might seem more powerful, Travis knew better… especially considering he had chains on his tires.

After that, he literally pushed the Hummer into the bay, with a bit of help from his ability, although anyone watching would just think he was ungodly strong. After parking his own truck and whatnot, he moved back into the shop, chuckling slightly. “Well… that vehicle isn’t going anywhere for some time… she’s been through quite a bit. I can fix her up, certainly, but it’s going to take longer than this year has time left.” That being said, he looked up at the clock, and noticed it was nearly 11 at night already. Little over an hour before the new year rang in, and perhaps a bit of forwardness would pay off.

“If you got somewhere to go, I can give you a lift… but if not, we could hang out here and wait for the new year. I got some red wine for the night, and homemade turkey and mayo sandwiches.” He gave her a playful smile, and wondered what her reaction would be.

The old tee shirt, Lori accepted with an ingratiating smile. She wiped her hands free from the grease and took special care to get between her fingers. Her hands creaked from the cold and bending of her joints, but they would have made worse sounds had she been trying to write something. She was quite used to the limited mobility of her hands by now.

And really, his chuckle as he inspected the "all terrain" vehicle (apparently post boxes did not count as normal terrain) made Lori sigh with resignation. "Can it be saved?" He seemed to think so. It was one of the vehicles that had lasted the longest for her. Oh sure, it was no tank but the sheer amounts of solid steel were good for her. Most cars had more plastic than ferromagnetic material, but not this one.

He told her to stay in the warm lobby so she did.

At first, Lori watched out the door to see how he would recover the vehicle. Once she felt comfortable with his level of competency (what? was he going to break it more?) Lori let herself wander over to the walls to read the framed awards and newspaper articles. He seemed to come highly recommended.

Travis came back in high spirits. Apparently her vehicle's misery amused him.

> "If you got somewhere to go, I can give you a lift…"

Lori was already shaking her head. Leave her (stolen) vehicle here with such an upstanding gentleman? Probably not the best of ideas. Besides, a little car trouble was the perfect excuse for missing a party she didn't really want to go to in the first place.

Red wine? Somehow that image just didn't fit as well as the home made turkey sandwiches did. Lori offered the greasy rag back to Travis. "Throw in a pair of socks and you have a deal." Seriously. Her feet were cold.

Travis chuckled for a moment at the comment about the socks.

“While I certainly understand the reasoning, I have to say, that one is a first for me. It’s a deal… give me just a minute.”

It was fairly warm in the lobby, so he moved to the door, unlocked and opened it, and moved up the stairs with a bit of energy he hadn’t had before. The anticipation of having company on what otherwise would have been a lonely night was invigorating, and it was only a full minute before he returned, a pair of warm wool socks, with sneakers to match in one hand, the other holding a decent sized bottle of Sweetened Red Wine and a pair of thick stocky glasses that looked like they could be home in a bar with some hard liquor within.

Travis had shed his coveralls as well, now in a white-beater shirt and a pair of jeans, and offered the shoes and socks first, then set the glasses before them, and with a bit of muscle, carefully opened the cork, and poured her a glass. “Pardon the wait, we seem woefully understaffed tonight.” he said with a bit of a ‘stuck up waiter’ tone in mock of the situation. In a flash, he was back up the stairs, and about five minutes after that, coming down with a large plate stacked with sandwiches. There were eight in all, his homemade turkey leftovers warmed and placed between bread with some mayo and a slice of cheese. While the bread, mayo and cheese were all generic, he had cooked the bird himself with all the seasonings… and he wasn’t that bad of a cook.

Refilling her glass, should it be needed, and filling his own, he sat down across from the woman at the table, and flashed her a smile. “Please, dig in, and tell me what you think. I cooked the turkey myself.” He anxiously awaited his guest to try it, refusing to eat until he had gotten an opinion of his cooking. Living alone here, it wasn’t like he had anyone to share it with.

She just smiled after him and his enthusiasm. Her mutation came with quite a few quirks so he couldn't understand all the reasoning. Just the same, she wasn't about to correct him on the point. He made his apologies, disappeared and before the blonde could finish reading the article on the wall, he was back with both socks and shoes.

Lori laughed and accepted both, opting to put them on the counter rather than the floor. "Those are going to be like clown shoes!" Lori inspected the surface in front of the shoes and after deeming it clean pulled herself up onto it wedging her booty next to the register in order to pull off a golden high heel without flashing anything.

Remember Cinderella? The Order leader wiggled the now free toes of a very petite foot. "I'm lucky. Most people can't find good shoes since so many people share their size." But there were always good shoes left in smaller sizes. Especially heels and especially on clearance. Yeah, she could afford to buy them full price, but years and year of being worse than poor left her a complete miser about money.

Lori worked the socks onto her feet while Travis poured the wine. Ah. It wasn't a Cab or Merlot, but one of those mixed grape varieties that was delicious and often extra sweet. That fit a lot better in Lori's picture of Travis. "So, I guess the car is on hold then..." Not that she minded with her feet all socked up and a brandy glass full of wine in her hand. "Still, this is far better service than I get at other repair places."

She teased him and tried on the shoes just for giggles. Already just the socks didn't fit right. The heel of the sock reached past her ankle and well up the calf. When she held the shoe up to her shin for comparison, her shin was longer than the shoe, but not by much. Lori dropped off the counter with her heels in arm and the huge shoes on her feet so that she could take a seat at the table. Meanwhile, Travis disappeared again for the sake of a few sandwiches.

Correction. He brought back a mountain of sandwiches. Boy, he sure was enthusiastic. "Do you have a TV so we can watch the ball drop?" Or would they just have to think of something better to do? He refilled her glass and the night's outlook seemed rosier by the ounce.

"Do you cook 'cause you like it or because there's nobody else to cook for you?" She didn't mean the question as an insult. Lori was already biting down into a sandwich and approving. "I only ask—" She tried not to talk with her mouth full so Lori finished her bite before continuing. "—because I can't cook, but there's a cafeteria where I live so I don't have to." Clearly, by the speed at which her sandwich disappeared, this was better than cafeteria food.

While Travis knew that the shoes weren’t going to fit, he didn’t exactly have kid-sized shoes laying around either. He wore a ten and a half wide, by no means a small shoe for anyone, but luckily because of the thickness of the wool socks, it would likely make up some of the difference and make it wearable. Fashionable? No… but it got the job done. Travis only smirked in response to the woman’s rather obvious assessment of the situation… Clown Shoes was about right, but she obviously didn’t care for fashion so much that it kept her from wearing something that was obviously warmer than what fit… that was good… she was more practical than her appearance showed, and Travis respected that.

Travis noted her statement, and nodded. “She’s a tough truck, don’t get me wrong, but you need parts that I know I don’t have in stock. Don’t get a whole lot of Hummers in this neck of the woods.” He confirmed again that he could fix it, but time would be a factor… it would take at least a couple days if he dedicated his time to the vehicle, up to a week for parts… by no means was that vehicle going anywhere without a lot of work. Still, considering his current company, he pushed work aside in his mind for once… a rare event, but in the presence of someone such as this, his attention was in the realm of the living, not the mechanical.

“Well, circumstances aside, you are a far better customer than most. And considering the chain of events, you didn’t have a whole heck of a lot of options, less you like dealing with the police report and whatnot that would have occurred if you called a tow truck.” Hidden questions within that statement too, but ones that he wasn’t sure if he wanted answers to.

She made a request as far as seeing the ball drop, meaning the New Year’s tradition in Time Square that happened every year. With a nod, he grabbed the remote from one of the small stands near the wall, and with a bit of power and a couple of flicks of the channel button, the Times Square was filling the screen. Her next question was a little odd, but nothing too bad… that aside, she seemed to like the sandwiches, and so he scooped one up himself, but answered before eating.

“Well, it started out as a need… I cooked because it was either that, or don’t eat… but after a while, I grew to like it. I’m glad you like it as much as I do…” With that, he took a monstrous bite of his own sandwich, a little more than a quarter of the bit of food in his hand gone in a single bite, and chewing through the contents and enjoying the taste before going for another equally large bite. He would let this moment last, for now, and let her continue the conversation from here.

It needed parts? Well, that should have been obvious from the chunk she'd found in the road, but still... she was so used to just patching everything up again from whatever was left. "You might run a diagnostic on the electrical systems as well. Power steering is out." And it had been since she'd rolled the thing over using her power. That was ages ago but it hadn't been a problem until now.

But he didn't seem to want to talk shop. He wanted to talk about how she hadn't called the police. Lori coughed into her wine. "I should probably go try to put that mailbox back upright. I think that's Federal territory. Is there time before midnight?"

The TV mounted in a corner was far enough away that it wasn't going all rainbow just from Lori being near. So long as she kept her cool nothing should pop. Emphasis on the should. The clock up in the corner of the televisions said she had somewhere around 40 minutes. Plenty of time. "I'll handle it. Don't worry." Lori abandoned what was left of her sandwich and scooted back her chair before she realized that she was being irresponsible and rude and selfish.

"I should probably make a call and let everyone know I'm not going to make it tonight too. Do you have a land line?" She really, really didn't want to have to pay for a replacement cell phone.

First the phone, then the mailbox. That was the plan. Lori called Lisa to let her know that she wasn't dead, but she'd had car trouble. No. She wouldn't be walking. No. She wouldn't be coming back this year. Lisa could interpret that as she pleased.

Then, the mailbox. The newspaper dispensers? Eh. Newspapers were on their way out anyway. Plus the glass was busted and left little sparkles across the sidewalk. There was no fixing that. Lori glanced one more time at the clock in the corner of the television before she opened the door all the way to the arctic air outside. 30 minutes now.

"Still time. I'll be right back." The cold wasn't so bad after two glasses of wine and though the letterbox was made of a hefty chunk of steel to prevent its theft Lori was certain she could handle it on her own.

Travis smiled at her first statement. “I’ll make sure to do a thorough check on all the systems, if you want her in top shape again. It appears she has been through a lot…” He wasn’t about to ask what small war the vehicle must have went through in order to receive the damage that was evident, nor would he mention that, using his ability, he already intimately knew everything that was wrong with it. Travis might have been the type of person to admit he was a mutant, but he wasn’t about to showcase what he could do unless he didn’t have much choice.

Travis nodded, “Yea, I think so. ‘Federal Post Regulations’ seems to pop up in my mind for some reason. I can help you out though… not many people out and about tonight it seems, shouldn’t be too much of an issue getting it done before the ball drops.” That aside, it was just the ‘right thing to do’. Travis was a fan of keeping things on the legal side of the law when he could help it. He had noticed how she had visibly been disturbed by the fact, meaning that at some point in time, it seemed she had run into the law before, and wanted to avoid it. Possible… although he had no evidence… just a hunch.

Travis pointed to a phone sitting on the wall, a small sign above it saying ‘GUEST PHONE’ and in smaller text under it ‘Only Works with Local Numbers’. He had a Cell Phone she could use if that became a problem. Travis used that moment to go grab his coveralls again, some gloves, and move to the door as she called her friend who she apparently had previous plans with. He wouldn’t question why she had chosen to spend it with a complete stranger, albeit it was welcome, as she was a grown woman and could make decisions for herself. He, however, was going to ensure it was as little time spent out in the cold as possible, and held up his own Leather Jacket for her to wear. She wasn’t exactly dressed in the right clothing at the moment for winter travel.

After that, he would stay close to her, not due to any attempt at protection, but because the combination of large shoes and socks, and the treacherous ice, made him believe he might have to catch her. Once they reached the mailbox, his years of toiling with mechanics and other physical labor was put into use, as bands of muscle coiled and flexed as he helped put the mailbox back into place. After that, he would move back inside with her, a job well done. As they entered, he looked to her, simply and smiled. “That was easy…” he stated, removing his gloves, ready to take his jacket back unless she decided to keep it on for the moment.