The evening was cool, but not too cold and she was warm enough in her hoodie for the walk home. Jack padded quietly beside her, the only noise the sound of their footfalls and his happy panting. It had been a busy day at the shop, three pre-organised pickups and six walk-ins, four of which had purchased something. The bag that held the day’s taking was thick, but not heavy. No coins or petty change in the sword-buying business.

They had passed a small gas station and two closed home improvement yards that sold things like gyprock and scaffolding when she noticed something a little off. There was a faint shuffling sound, like jeans on jeans, which she knew couldn’t be coming from her, she was wearing thick track pants to ward off the chilly breeze. She suppressed the urge to touch her jacket where the money was zipped in an inner pocket. She had checked the pocket and zipped it closed before she left the shop. Touching it now would just indicate to someone following them where it was. Instead she suddenly dropped Jack’s lead then stopped to pick it up. The shuffling sound stopped but not fast enough.

Now, if it had merely been someone walking the same direction as her, at the same pace, they would have continued walking when she stopped to retrieve the lead. Since the shuffler had stopped, she assumed the worst, that whoever it was, was following her. She looked ahead, making a mental map of her trip. She would pass another two yards, closed due to the late hour, then there was a stretch of darkness where an old carwash had shut down and not been re bought. There was no light on the path there, and she guessed that there was where the follower would make his move. From what she recalled there was another mechanics/junkyard on the other side of the carwash with a decent yard light. To get there she had to pass through the darkness though, and she doubted there would be anyone around to help her. This was an area of six-to-sixes, and it was now more like eight. She silently scolded herself for being out so late now when darkness was falling earlier and faster.

She could take care of herself if she had to, but she would really prefer not to.

She was passing the second yard now, and the stretch of darkness lay before her. The sound behind her quickened and she broke into a trot. If she could just make it through the darkness to the safety of the mechanic’s yard light…

She didn’t see the dark form step out from where it had been leaning against the fence of the abandoned carwash, but she certainly felt it. She was at a jog, not a full-blown run, but the impact still knocked the air out of her in a solid ‘ooph’. Jack began barking at the man, who wrapped his arms around Verdy, pinning her arms to her sides, but he took no notice of the dog.

“Where’s the money, sweety?”

He murmured in her ear. His breath smelled like smoke, but not alcohol, so there was little hope that he was intoxicated and could be easily overpowered. She struggled and jabbed at his gut with her elbows as best she could, trying to release her arms to use her hands. In a place like this pretty much any projectile would be a painful one. No socks or erasers here.

Sometimes, Jacob’s senses were a real pain in the ass.

He was working on an over-night job, his favorite type to tinker with in order to make sure the vehicle is in prime condition and checking to make sure that he had gotten everything fixed and found any issues that the owner, a Police Officer, hadn’t found yet. He was the unofficial mechanic for most of the New York Police, but he didn’t advertise, and the word had been spread from one person to another in a simple friendly way. Still, he liked to use his ability to ensure that he had indeed gotten everything, and as he rubbed his hand on the side of the car that was on the lift, he closed his eyes, working his ability through all the moving parts. He should probably suggest to the owner to replace the power steering belt, as it was getting a bit worn, but he had seen that with his eyes. He liked to do most of his work physically rather than using his ability all the time, but it was always good to double tap.

That was when he sensed it… just off his property by the car wash that had broken down. Someone had a firearm… and there was two people closing in on one person. Gritting his teeth, he set down his tools and walked into the Lobby, grabbing his jacket off the receptionist chair and moving towards the front door. He moved with good speed, walking expeditiously, and used his ability to ensure that he had his own pistol, a custom 1911, in his jacket, regardless that the chances were that he wouldn’t need it. As he walked out the front door, he used his ability to activate the alarm system on his shop, a high-voltage deterrent from theft, burglary or vandalism, and moved towards the front entrance. It wouldn’t take him long, and he locked in on the figures. She was just about to bump into the one person with the firearm waiting in ambush…

Jacob moved quickly, but slowed ever so slightly to ensure he was completely and utterly silent. Slipping into the shadows, he placed each footfall deliberately, his tan combat boots not making a sound as he placed his heel down, and rolled his foot forward, minimizing impact and ensuring that there was no bounce. The second person had a switchblade, but that really wasn’t an issue there… it was simple enough to keep the blade from revealing itself by seizing up the mechanical function. He wanted to find out what was going on. His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, and he recognized the vague shapes of two men, one of which holding the victim, a woman, in a tight bear hug. Two grown men, attacking a woman walking her dog. Awesome… sometimes Jacob really wondered if anyone had any sense of honor or dignity in the world today.

Moving quickly, he reached the first individual, using his superior 6’ 3” height to his advantage, and reached around the man’s neck, getting him in a rear naked choke. He didn’t even get time to call for help as Jacob squeezed, cutting of both blood and airflow to the man’s head, and pulling him backwards. The man instinctively reached up, trying to pry his arms off before he went slack, falling unconscious as his brain shut down due to the lack of blood flowing to his brain. This happened all in the manner of seconds, and the second person was just realizing that she wasn’t being held. Picking up the man, who was probably a good 200 pounds, he carried him to the second person, and heaved him into the trail-party’s chest, knocking him backwards with the weight of the unconscious man. He then drew his pistol. “Leave, before I have to figure out where to bury you two cowards.” Without hesitation, the other man nodded, knowing his knife wasn’t going to do him much good against a pistol, and began to drag his buddy away. After he was confident that they weren’t coming back, he turned towards the young woman. “Are you alright, Ma’am?”

She was just beginning to think that may she couldn’t take care of this if she had to, when the thug’s grip around her eased. One of his hands dangled near hers and she snatched for it, about to open the portal and break as many of his fingers as she could fit into it until she caught sight of thick muscular arms around the thug’s neck. She was being rescued. How unexpected.

The body of her assailant slumped limp onto the ground and her rescuer saw fit to use him as a projectile at the second man, the one who had been tailing her and who had frightened her into the grasp of this man. Her protector drew a gun and the would-be muggers, or at least the one who was conscious, made to leave. Once the tailer, dragging his unconscious compadre had moved out of the darkness and into the light Verdy felt safe enough to slap herself down, feeling for any injuries worse than simple squeeze-bruises.

“Are you alright Ma’am?”

Heh, he called her Ma’am. She double checked, inhaling deeply to check for cracked ribs, wiggling her fingers to make sure her wrists and arms were ok. She smiled with relief at the man.

“Yes, I think so. A little shaken, been a while since I was attacked on the street.”

Without provocation, that was.

She quickly patted the pocket where the money was zipped and, confident that it was safe, stooped to retrieve her bag of books and comics from the ground where it had fallen, as well as Jack’s leash. The dog snuffled at her legs as if reassuring himself that she had come to no harm, and she patted his head softly.

“It’s ok Jack, I’m alright…”

She glanced up at the man again as she stood.

“Thankyou, that was a bit much for me, I don’t know what would have happened without your help…”

She would have lost the money, at least, and possibly much worse things could have happened.

Like her library books, she could have lost them too…

Jacob was thankful they hadn’t hurt her. Two men attacking a woman walking her dog… deplorable, but sadly, common in today’s day and age. He didn’t want to think of what was likely to have happened if he hadn’t stepped in, and she wasn’t exactly bad looking, so it was not hard to imagine what likely would have occurred. His adrenaline was starting to subside, and he relaxed slightly, trying his best to calm himself. In an effort to do just that, he reached out with a hand, offering it in greeting. “Jacob Corbulo. I own a shop just behind me, if you want to stop for by for a minute and warm up, Ma’am.” It was cold, and no one should just keep on alone after that encounter.

It would be best that they didn’t try to come back and follow them either. Men like that who got manhandled probably would want vengeance, and he didn’t want that… it would be a bad day. Perhaps if she accepted that much of an invitation, he would offer her a ride to wherever she needed to get to… and then he eyed Jack, her dog, figuring out which breed he was. Dog hair… always could be a problem when it came to the leather seats of his car… it stuck to them but a lint roller would handle that easily enough. Regardless of her decision, he turned, preparing to make the walk back towards his shop, since it was on her way anyhow, and keep the men at bay. Judging by the way their mechanical signatures were moving, the big guy was awake now… but they weren’t heading their direction. He would keep an ear out for them just in case.

Not that he really needed to worry about them once he got into his shop… he had certain things in place to handle any unwanted trespassers, cleverly concealed in his building. After all, it was more than just a shop… it was his home, and his livelihood. They reached the entranceway, and he paused, wondering if she had made a decision, turning around and bending at his knee’s scratching the dog behind his ears if he allowed it.

He was the junkyard mechanic, and his name was Jacob. She smiled as he offered her the chance to warm up inside his shop. It would be inevitable after a rush like that, the sweat that comes from fear and adrenaline, would cool against her skin and make her shiver. She shivered. Like that.

“Yes please, that would be good.”

Perhaps he had a spare tyre she could sit on for a while while she calmed herself. And tea, tea was good. She rolled her eyes inwardly at how much of sook she had become since living at the mansion. In days gone by she would have taken out the follower before he had a chance, her senses would not have been hindered so much by the darkness, and she would never have ended in the bigger man’s grasp. She had become lazy and therefore weak. She was lucky Jacob had been there to protect her, when she couldn’t protect herself.

The man had stopped and stooped to pet Jack who was thumping his tail against the ground happily. This man had saved his master, he was their friend. Verdy smiled again, then realised she was being rude by not introducing herself, when their rescuer already had.

“This is Jack, Captain Jack if you want to get formal, and I’m Verdy, Verdigris Willow.”

Cracking out the last name. Fancy.

She indicated the black patch around one eye, like the stereotypical pirate captain. Jack was a fairly common name, so it helped to have a title.

Jacob forged a path, using his ability to disengage the alarm and security system as he approached the front door to the waiting area and reception desk. Jacob had several comfortable couches, a mounted flatscreen on the wall with a built-in DVD player, and free WiFi, all to keep his customers happy while they waited. He was actually looking into possible expanding his shop, adding four more bays on the other side, as his business was starting to get busy as word spread of his skill as a mechanic and the quality of work from his shop. Once he was under the light of his front door, he took a good look at his hands. This woman had refused his handshake as well, and he couldn’t figure out if they were stained or something, but they looked clean. Shaking it off, he then opened the door, allowing Verdigris and Jack to enter.

“Willow is a very pretty last name, he said, not really thinking anything of the comment aside the fact that he had made it in his own opinion. Once they were inside, he immediately moved to the refreshments counter, grabbing a mug and spinning the Keurig cups. “What would you like? I have coffee, cappuccino, tea, and hot cocoa, or if you prefer something cold, I have plenty of that as well.” He wouldn’t push too hard, but offering her a warm cup of Joe was definitely called for on the steadily cold winter nights here.

She saw him inspecting his hands, and hoped she had not offended him. When your mutation stemmed from your hands, you were very cautious about shaking peoples hands, especially when you had just been in an adrenaline fuelling situation and your mutation could break fingers with ease. She felt she should explain this to the man, without outing herself as a mutant.

“Your hands are fine it’s just… You know, New York being the hub for mutants… you never know what might happen if you shake a stranger’s hand.”

You could be turned to stone, or a duck, or who knows what else. Or, you could have your fingers sucked through a portal and broken. Regardless, there were a number of things that could go very wrong.

“Tea, would be lovely. Lots of milk and sugar if you have them…”

It was time for a sooky tea, the healer of hurts, the calmer of nerves.

She settled herself on one of the couches, sitting on the edge and turned to watch him brewing the hot drinks. Jack lay on the floor patiently, happy to wait in the warmth of the room for as long as it took. Verdy looked around the shop. It was nice, much nicer than the mechanic Cafas’ shop was attached to. This one had a luxurious waiting room; she was fair sure theirs had a magazine rack and a fold out chair.

“Nice place, do you own it, or work here?”

Nothing like some small talk to soothe the nerves.

Jacob smiled a little bit, taking the time to fish out the sugar that was stashed near the coffee maker, grabbing four packets, and the milk that was in the mini-fridge underneath it. In the matter of a few short minutes, he had a nice warm beverage and addressed her concerns and questions. “I guess that is a fair precaution. It’s hard for me, of course, as I was always told that shaking a person’s hand was just about mandatory when greeting them.” He paused for a moment, and then wondered how good she was at paying attention.

He made no outward change, but mentally, he thought about what had been revealed… He had a large sign hanging above the entrance of the shop where it met the road, stating ‘Jacob’s Junkyard and Shop’, and he was pretty sure he had already introduced himself. But then again, there were a lot of Jacobs, so perhaps she just wanted to be sure that he was indeed the owner. Still, he had been given a compliment, and that could only be responded with in one way… pride. Handing her the warm beverage, he responded. “Be careful, it’s hot,” he warned, then proceeded to answer and respond with “yes, I own the shop, and thank you for the compliment. I have put a lot of work into this place… but it helps that the upstairs is where I live too.” Live where you work, and you make it a lot easier to get to work. He literally could roll out of bed and be where he needed to be in order to get paid. Not a bad way to be.

Of course he owned the shop. Not only had he told her that already, there was a sign saying so. She wondered again at just how much the encounter had shaken her.

“Sorry, I’m usually a little more observant. Guess getting shaken down for your money makes you less attentive.”

Which was stupid, really, shouldn’t one be more alert after a shock like that? Still, she was safe now, and her rescuer was offering her the hot tea. She took it and blew on it gently before taking a cautious sip. He was right, it was hot. Not too hot to be bearable though, so she blew and sipped it again.

He lived upstairs. A rush of memories involving her and Jack living in the back of the other mechanics, in the sword shop, came back to her. Memories of dust and dirt and living off pigeons. It had just been a dream, she told herself. But an incredibly vivid, three-year long dream. She shook the memories away, as well as the additional reprimands, after a dream like that how could she let herself become so soft?

“I guess that makes the commute easy.”

No traffic problems between home and work. Probably meant he could open at more convenient hours as well, without having to rush home to a wife and kids in peak-hour traffic. That had to be good for business. Even being open a half hour later than all the others in the area would make a big difference in the number of customers.

She sipped her tea again thoughtfully. She wasn’t sure about the relationship between Cafas and the mechanic who owned the workshop, which was attached to the little sword shop. She had never met the man herself, but she assumed that he wouldn’t mind her visiting another mechanics, and even if he did it wasn’t really any of his business. He hadn’t been on hand to rescue her when thugs appeared.

“So, how long have you owned this place?”

She hoped there wasn’t a big glowing sign saying ‘established 2000’ or something like that. She had already missed several of the details and felt more than a little rude.

Jacob simply shook his head at her response. “No no, you just nearly got mugged and probably worse, I don’t blame you for not paying attention to something as trivial as a sign.” It was true too… not a lot of people were trained to deal with shock like that, and there was no reason for most civilians to want to train themselves like that. He knew some soldiers that struggled with it before he put them through the Shock Training that made you able to deal with that kind of stress and be fine only a few moments later. A lot of it had to do with regulating your breathing. She commented about the commute, and he nodded.

“It certainly does. Plus, no one messes with my place after hours because I’m here to ensure it. Haven’t had many problems, but this place isn’t too far short of a fortress.” He would leave it at that, and if she asked more, he would explain, but some people didn’t like to know too much about that kind of stuff, so he would let her make that call. He moved back to the Keurig machine, and popped in a Hot Cocoa for himself and placed his personalized mug that he got from one of his old units. It had a symbol of a pair of M16’s and a skull in the Jolly Roger style, and a inscription under it saying “To Staff Sergeant Jacob ‘Colt’ Corbulo, our Hawkeye and Armorer”.

Once it was done, he joined her on the couch, and smiled as he replied. “Bought it two years ago, and just paid it off a few months ago. All I have to do is maintain, and that isn’t hard when you have all the tools to do it.” It was a true fact, but he didn’t delve into the fact that his mutant ability made it considerably easier, not to mention cheaper, to fix a great many things. That was one reason he was so successful, is he was able to fix certain things without having to pay for parts, and it was good use of his ability to build up his stamina. He hadn’t tried anything too risky yet, but he had done quite a bit of work.