This, was not good.

It was just meant to be a routine sweep of the area for a known mutant extremist, followed by information gather if they found him. Of course, the plan had failed very quickly when the warehouse full of thugs attacked her and her partner, forcing them to bolt and split up. Now she was getting chase by eight freaking guys, with at least two of them being mutants, into what she was pretty sure was a dead end alley.

Days like today just sucked. Cait's uniform was hot in the summer with all the exertion, she could feel the dye in her hair killing her lovely locks and she was pretty sure she was going to finish the day with way more bruises than was ideal.

There was no way she was getting out with hurting them, not with so many of them and her being on her own. God she really didn't like hurt people, especially with her power but it looked like she didn't have a choice.

Playing one of her tunes in her head, the knives started to pop out of the air, spinning around her in a musical pattern until five of them were buzzing around her looking very threatening but frankly, their range was pretty limited.

"I don't suppose you boys will go for a nice one on one, winner takes all kind of deal?" Well, at least she got a few laughs out of them. That was worth something, right?

His day had started relatively normal. He'd met with a client to talk about some coding and graphics for a site, then done lunch. He hadn't heard back from the orchestra group he'd auditioned for, but it had only been a few days. Auditions take time. After lunch, Benji had donned his motorcycle helmet and driven his motorcycle towards an art supplies store several blocks from commercial storage areas and warehouses.

Now, that might seem strange to an outside observer, an art supplies store in what sounds like a bad part of town... but New York changes between industrial and commercial and residential fairly fast. It's a sprawling city, with all them Burroughs and everything else. And maybe it was a crappy little hole-in-the-wall art store, but it was his little art store, so sue him. Things had taken a turn for the odd when he'd witnessed eight men chasing a costumed super hero on the streets.

Without the costume, it would have made him mad. With it, it made him volcanic. Here was someone out doing something to make New York a better place, and people were chasing her like they wanted to destroy it. Of course, she could've been a cat burglar in a cat suit during a daring failed daylight burglary of a mob's storehouse, but... it seemed like they wanted to do horrible things to her. And she was a woman. And that wouldn't fly.

He didn't realize until he'd pulled his bike to a stop on the street outside the alleyway, and dropped the kickstand, what he was going to do. It had been a long time coming, and altogether, a terrible, Ill-conceived idea. But he was going to do it, regardless, because something in his brain had snapped and logic had flown off its perch in the bird cage of his mind to go crap on some statue of a woman holding a stone tablet and a torch on an island somewhere. He had not taken off his jet black motorcycle helmet with its tinted visor and painted on Cheshire smile. And Benji, well, he was going to try his hand at being a hero. At least he hadn't worn a damned cape.

Benji stepped silently into the mouth of the alley behind the group, dressed in a black leather jacket over a white button-up shirt and dressy blue jeans. His helmet's dome glared in the light from the reflection off some window. The visor and helmet obscured the Korean man's face.

Without preamble, he shot forward with a sudden burst of speed, fast as a major league pitch, and kicked the nearest thug squarely in the arse with enough force to send him stumbling into his friend ahead of him with a curse and a clutched buttocks. Light blue streamers trailed him as he sped up. Then, at a normal pace, he used the distraction to bridge the gap between himself and the next nearest guy, and wrench the lead pipe from between the man's hands. He pushed off the man's gut with the heel of his shoe as he tore the bludgeoning weapon free. His helmet wore a toothy smile.

No bad guys were down, though two were tangled and getting back to their feet. The one who'd held the pipe held his gut instead, and looked poleaxed, but he was still on his feet (barely), still soldiering on through the shock and pain. His teeth were clenched almost as bad as thug one's tail end.

"Here's a riddle," Benji sneered, lapsing into the first witty thing he could think of, an Alice in Wonderland quote from the Cheshire Cat, horribly butchering it for the sake of relevance. "When is a lead pipe like a billy club? I'll tell you! Whenever you want it to be!" He held the billy club pipe against the palm of his right hand, ready to work.

Inwardly, he thought to himself 'God, I hope they don't have guns.'

((Ooc please let me know if that's too much. First time with super speed and I'd hate to God mode. I can edit if need be.))

At least the knives kept them back for now, non of them really wanted to make the first move to go for her and she was more than happen with that. Anyone who jumped at her would come out way worse for wear. The only issue, Cait couldn't keep this up for long so she either had to hope they'd not bother or she was going to be playing a nasty song involving their legs and her knives.

OK, what the hell was that? Between one blink and the next she suddenly had a friend who was kickin' ass and taking names. God they were fast! Good too since each strike had been targeted, not random flailing. Oh and he quoted C.S Lewis. If he was cute under that helmet she'd be very happy.

Focus girl, plenty of time for flirting later! "Two on eight? Now those odds I like! So boys, who's first?" They looked more nervous now, not nearly as confident as before now that a speedy joker had set two of their friends reeling. Too bad on of the mutants among them was braver than the rest or they all might have ran.

Wretch smelling slime darted past her head and started eating a hole in the concrete. Note to self Cait, deal with him first, melting was not on the agenda for today. "Now that's just rude!"

Darting forward, the knives following her and hoping her would be prince took advantage of the chaos she was into them and doing work, slashing legs, arms anything that presented itself and would hurt like heal. One poor sod took a nasty slash across his backside even, joining his friend in the hurt a--- group.

So things went wrong for her round about then, two of her dagger got blasted with that goo, gave a valiant effort to stay together but soon shattered and sent a nasty spike of pain through her head. Another that had aimed to simply pierce a guys leg instead rammed itself straight into bone and got itself handily stuck. If she dismissed it the guy could easily bleed out, damn why did she have to have a conscience.

Maybe Mister Cheshire was having better luck?

They were pretty evenly split. Four baddies on her side, four on his. The three he'd aggro'd, and one more who had noticed him when he dropped that fool line. It was a pity their attentions prevented him from noticing much more about the lady he was helping other than her fighting in the background out of the corner of his eye. He hadn't really fought actual people in a real life combat situation with his mutation before, so this was a first. He was a vigilante virgin, as it were. So when he came out of his super speed state, he mentally counted off seconds between charges. While responding to the one man who charged him, and his pipe. Suffice it to say, it wasn't easy.

Benji moved to the right as the man came at him, anticipating the assault and putting himself where it was not. No super speed required! After he dodged, he turned his body, to bring the pipe around in a vertical circular swing, with his body's motion. Six seconds, seven. The man had anticipated the strike. He caught it. And as he caught it, it became readily apparent. This man was a mutant. The dull color of the lead pipe started at his fingertips, and spread slowly, liquidly, down his right hand, to his wrist. His arm. Eight. It's crazy how much can happen in a single second of a fight. Benji brought a leg up to snap a kick at the man's side as they fought over the pipe. Before the metal of the pipe was absorbed and spread its way down his body to cover that spot. The kick was enough of a shock to cause the mans grip to loosen, and Benji tore the lead pipe away.

He hopped back one step, two, then turned and came face to face with the three men who had regrouped. His mental count hit 12. Maybe he'd started the count late, maybe more time had passed between the actual moments of the fight and the time on the clock. Maybe it hadn't, and he was using his ability sooner than he would have liked. It's hard to keep track of the difference between a speedster's own perception of time and it's reality, especially during the hectic running commentary of action and reaction during a fight. But either way, he felt like he'd recouped some energy he had lost, like his power had, for lack of a better term that didn't involve video games, "reset." Like his cooldown had reset. So sue him, it was the easiest way for him to conceptualize the power. And a reset cooldown meant he could chain link three bursts of super speed back-to-back.

"Nice of you guys to wait while I fought your friend, instead of stabbing me in the--" He moved before he'd finished the sentence, bursting forward to swing the pipe across the first man's knees. "Ass!" Blue lines trailed behind the pipe as it blurred. Force equals mass times acceleration. Suffice it to say, it was a non lethal takedown that brought the man tumbling backwards in a great deal of pain. Tumbling right into his two friends. One of the two hurt his ass again as he fell down, the same guy from before, but Benji had turned before his second of super speed was up, to survey the scene behind him with the heroine and her entourage. She was in trouble. Something involving acidic slime? There was a knife in one man, deep enough that extricating it might be dangerous. He got that from the gut feeling when he saw the wound, the feeling that told him he just might get sick if they pulled that knife out. And the man with the metal arm now had the right half of his body covered in a dull metallic silver. He was standing between her, him, and the rest of the guys. Being a mutant is hard.

The men behind him lurched back to their feet. If he had been more lethal, they'd have stayed down. The one who'd been hit in the knees was down, at least, but if he'd hit anyone with a high speed blow to the head, or a heavy kick to the ribs, there might have been concussions or contusions of broken bones. It might've been messy. Much like the heroine's knife, misuse of a mutation could be lethal, and to reiterate, being a mutant is hard. Much like metal man's two-faced head.

Benji blurred as he flashed forward in a burst of speed and happy trails. He swung the lead pipe with as much force as he could, at the metallic right side of the man's head. The attack rung with the gonglike sound of metal on metal as he rocked the man's skull. It was metal. He could handle the hit. But his nonmetal side would have to deal with the ear ringing and skull splitting pain that made it through the biological transfer between metal and flesh. As the man stumbled to his left, Benji passed him on the right, approaching the group in the noisiest way possible, a living distraction. He had just made a lot of noise.

He had one burst left before he would have to wait. And by past experiences, he had about six seconds before he would want to use it. Four men were behind him, including the metal man. Four were ahead, including whoever had spat slime. One was on the ground, holding his knees and cursing. He had no idea about the physical status of the four girly girl had been fighting, but he could be a momentary reinforcement. Or a distraction so she could regroup. He hadn't planned that far. He didn't know yet what the next thirty seconds would bring. Hopefully the answer was a long happy life for everyone involved, and maybe some physical rehabilitation for the ones intent on hurting a hero in their march towards organized crime.

"Hey, idiots!" Benji shouted the first thing that came to him. "Leave the woman alone!"

Pulling out another pair of knives to replace the shattered ones, she kept moving, not letting the acid lad get a straight shot at her and knocking the other two she was dealing with off balance. While the thug with a knife in his bone might not be out cold, he wasn't exactly focused on the fight. An ethereal knife sticking out your femur kind of does that. Too bad she couldn't get a look at her new best friend right now, if he was struggling as much as her they might be in trouble. That or she'd have to get nasty and that wasn't fun, for anyone involved.

Leaving a few more scars and slowly working her way closer to the acid spitter. If she could just deal with him this fight would turn around quick. The only issue, he spat freaking acid! How do you fight a person like that? Hope you get close enough without losing half a face to put him down? Cait really wished Becca had thought to train her for the eventual need to go up agaisnt people like this.

The shouting nearly distracted her, nearly. What it did do was make the two in front of her lose their concentration on her for just a second, just long enough for one quick movement. Sweeping two of her flying knives down, she drove them straight into the two guys feet, pinning them to the concrete. If the blood wasn't there, their reactions would have been pretty comical, both of them suddenly looking down to the glowing blades, and handily ignoring the brilliant Scot as she slammed the hilts of her real daggers into their now exposed temples. Ha! Take that jerks! Two thugs down and after giving each quick kick to seal the deal, they weren't bothering her for a while. Now, now it felt like proper fight, one she could win.

Thank you Cheshire man! Spitty wasn't even paying her attention during that, she gotten away 'Scot' free as it were. "My, my boys, at least put up a fight for little old me. Wouldn't do to let a girl beat you so easily." Hey, if the speedster had helped her, made sense to do the same, keep them off balance. Good thing he'd gotten big, metal and ugly though, her power wouldn't be great agaisnt someone like that.

Getting rounded on again by Spitty who unleashed a torrent of shots at her, she was forced back, dodging each shot. This one was dangerous, he wasn't just aiming for her, he was going for the knives flying around, trying to disarm her. With only two left she could safely use, it was a sound strategy, if only with one flaw. She could make more than just daggers.

Drawing some of the energy from the daggers stuck in various body parts, weakening them but not sending them away yet, she slammed all of it back into the two around her. This was going to hurt, a lot, but that acid was just way to dangerous to deal with. "Well then Mr Toxic Mouth, you ready to deal with a woman one on one?" Oh that worked alright, he was pissed and only had eyes for her. She'd have been lying if she wasn't enjoying this now that the odds had evened out, hell if her fast footed friend was doing this well they'd be done with time to spare.

What could go wrong?

His distraction paid off. The wonder of a woman moved quick, pinning down the field mice and bopping them on the head. Nursery rhymes about bunnies notwithstanding, it was brutal as hell and he heartily approved. Two down, what, 5 or 6 to go? Rapid mental math told him knee-man was out, metal-man's bell had been rung, and two men had just been hilt-checked by daggers. 8 - 4 = 4. Acid-man, and three others. That was two on one, effectively. Not the worst of odds, compared to their initial assessment.


The woman took a moment to address the men behind him, then addressed the Toxic-Slimeball.

>>"My, my boys, at least put up a fight for little old me. Wouldn't do to let a girl beat you so easily." She had said. The men had kept stomping towards them, eyes narrowed on her.

>> "Well then Mr Toxic Mouth, you ready to deal with a woman one on one?" She followed up, focusing on her last man standing. 

Part of him wanted to hurl the metal pipe at the man who'd spat the acid. The other part of him felt like that was wholly ungentlemanly. The woman was doing fine. She could handle her own. He had rushed towards the other group to distract them, and that had worked, but now the woman was doing alright. That meant he could turn and address the group behind him. A rapid change, sure, but Sun Tzu probably had a quote for that. Benji didn't have it on the tip of his tongue, but if one had to paraphrase, it would probably have sounded like 'Keep your enemies guessing.' Or perhaps, 'feign ignorance to put the enemy off-balance'? That seemed a likely one. So when Benji spun around to face the men who were chasing him, they really weren't expecting it. Especially metal man. 3/4 metal, now. Hmmmmm. But his face was still 50/50. The two men the woman had taunted were so ticked off at her jibe, they hadn't mentally been prepared for Benji's shift in gears. 

Benji ran past metal-man, landing a solid sweeping blow on the metal cheek with a resounding gong. The two who had chased after him had stopped, momentarily confused. That pause hadn't been a long one, but it had cost them initiative. He took advantage of that stall. An actual quote came to him as he ran at the men. 'It is the rule in war, if ten times the enemy's strength, surround them; if five times, attack them; if double, be able to divide them; if equal, engage them; if fewer, defend against them; if weaker, be able to avoid them.' Avoiding would have allowed them to regain initiative. Sorry, Sun Tzu. He was pretty sure the man had also said something about timing. Timing was right, here. Benji hurled the metal pipe at the man on the left, then rushed the man at the right. He turned his momentum into a brutal kick that took the man on the right in the gut a moment after the man on the left took a metal pipe in his chest. He had not caught it. His reaction time was not as good as Metal-man's.

Benji had lost track of his mental count. Whatever. He followed up the kick by turning on the man who had taken a pipe to the chest, and-- he bursted. To him, it felt like the pipe was falling in slow motion. That was not it, at all. He was just moving fast enough to streak in at an angle, catch the pipe before it had hit the ground, dart around that thug, and place the pipe around the man's shoulders, in front of his neck. Like a pillory. Using his body's weight and strength, he turned the man and shoved him towards the ground.

"On your knees." Benji said, through clenched teeth. The man complied. Blue streaks trailed off his fist as he delivered an efficient little jab to the back of the man's head. It was enough to knock him out, without causing any permanent injury or death. He hadn't built up enough speed for that. He'd wasted a burst, instead. Enough time had passed, he didn't feel exhausted. He maybe had one more in him, before he needed to give it a minute. A piece of broken glass and debris crunched.

The pipe slid away from the man's shoulders as Benji turned to strike out at the metal man behind him. The man caught the pipe. Again. "Mother of-- You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Benji muttered. Well? Let him have it. Benji gave one final jerk of the pipe, then released it. As the man recovered from the forward pull, and his own steadying step backwards, Benji took one step and jumped. And activated his mutation one more time. The full quote had finally come to him. As his mutation activated, it took him airborne. A double-jump. He shed blue ribbons of light behind him as he leaped, and flipped, over the man's back to land behind him. He used the last instant of speed to deliver a solid boot to the man's back. It sent the metal man tumbling into the last man standing out of his group of four, the one he'd kicked moments earlier.

Benji smiled behind the tinted visor of his motorcycle helmet. "When torrential water tosses boulders, it is because of its momentum. When the strike of a hawk breaks the body of its prey, it is because of timing." He enunciated in the most battle-hardened Samurai warlord voice he had in him. Metal-man's metal forehead clanged off that poor man's dome. KO.

Oh. Wait. He'd seen that wrong. Metal-man's NON-metal bit of forehead collided. Not a clang. A clash. Which meant... "Double-knockout?" Benji asked, sotto voce.

OK Slimey, it was just the two of them now. Time for a little fun. Shifting the two mobile knives into shields and pouring as much spare energy she had left into them, she had a pair of mobile bucklers which should be able to take more than one hit. In theory. Hopefully. So maybe this was less a plan and more a hope and see strategy that would end one of two ways. Her dealing with the acid spitter, or her getting some lovely new scars. Cait really, really wanted it to be the former. Mainly because it was less the scars she was scared of, but the blistering pain acid would cause.

Dodging one of the many flurries of spit she already had this fight, she kept moving in weird directions, changing constantly to confuse the guy. With a few close calls and more than one hit being slapped out the air with a shield, he was running out of steam pretty quick, looks like he didn't train in prolonged use with his power. Good, just a garden variety thug then he'd make a mistake.

Ducking under another projectile and coming in close, this was were stuff went a little wrong. Rather than him trying to get away from her, his just barreled in. With how close he got she couldn't get her daggers in play without causing serious harm, ugh why did she have to have morals. 

Hammering him a few times with her pommels to get him back, he just ignored the hits and grabbed onto her. Oh this would be bad. Rather than let him vomit a whole load of acid right onto her, she swung the shields through the air and just started pummeling him in the face and shoulders with them, all the while using the steel knives in her hands the cut and strike, catching any soft spot she could, trying to drive him back. Each hit wasn't much damage, but they quickly added up and he just couldn't focus enough to deal the blow he wanted, the constructs knocking him about too much. At one point she could almost hear his nose break and after a few more seconds the guy finally just relented and let her go.

Leaping on the moment of weakness, Cait swept the guys legs out from under him, smacking him the temple at the same time. Wow, he went down hard, way harder than she'd expected but thankfully, he was out.

Oh yeah! One Acid man dealt with, her first apparently. That was one for the record book. Turning back to her helper, she was impressed. He'd laid out Metal face and one of his friends with apparent ease. Wow, the guy had some skills. "Need a hand there or are you all good Cheshire?" The helmet looked so cool, very nice to look at.

There was this scene in Silent Hill, where the Spitter caught Jill and vomited acid all over her face. It was a kill-cam. When they were at low health, the hero died instantly. So brutal. As Benji turned away from the downed opponents, he caught sight of the woman, and worried he'd get to see something like that. But in a flurry of blows, she turned it around and beat the man back from her. He turned back to his last guy just as she swept the leg. He wasn't sure why he'd even worried.

Of the four he'd initially fought, he'd knocked out one, knocked two into each other. They were unconscious. And he'd injured the last. That guy was on his backside, holding his legs. It appeared he was in enough pain he hadnt bothered focusing on his friends as Benji had taken them down.

The woman's voice caused Benji to glance back her way. Cheshire, was he? He could dig it. A very cool alias from a CS Lewis book. He opened his mouth to say he was fine, and then he heard the sound of a hammer clicking back on a gun.

It seemed while he was focused on the woman, the man had noticed his friends. He'd stopped belly-aching about a couple broken knees, or whatever, and decided to get revenge. They were lucky he hadn't drawn that gun before, while they were fighting. They would never have expected it. Never have seen it coming.

How much time had passed for him? Several seconds, at least. Would it be enough? As Benji lurched towards the man on the ground, he quested out with his senses for something of his power. The last dregs of energy. Anything. He got lucky, and hit pay dirt. In a whirl of motion and blue trails, Benji disarmed the man and ejected the gun's ammo. Clip? Cartridge? Magazine. There it was. He held it by the barrel, butt facing the man on the ground, as if he were holding an empty gun out to him, like "Try me." It had looked cool, probably, but he'd been panicked as hell. Little did he know that as he'd vanished to deal with the man, his helmet had blurred in the most fitting of ways. The last thing the woman would have seen of him was the painted smile on the helmet's face. Then, he would have been a blur, somewhere else. Standing, holding the emptied gun.

"I'm good. You?" Benji played it cool. Too cool, probably. But he had a new image to protect.

A puddle spread from the center of the bad guy's mass. Oh, god dammit. Had he really? Benji took a step back, and slipped to gun and its ammunition into a pocket of his leather jacket. He'd dispose of them later. That crap was probably connected to all sorts of crime. Much like it's owner, the wet bandit.

Taking a few deep breaths and survey the carnage around her, she was impressed. Only two of them and they'd dealt with eight thugs, two of which had really nasty mutations for a fight. That had been so intense! And Awesome! "I, am great. Tend to feel that way when I walk away from a fight with only a few bruises." She was trying to resume the fake accent but she had a feeling she wasn't fooling the guy. Cait had a pretty recognisable voice after all. Not many Gaelic girls running around New York these days, especially in costume, fighting crime.

"As much as I'd love to stay here for a chat, mind if we move it somewhere else? Rather not be here when the ambulance arrives. They tend to want to ask questions, or keep me here for the police." Since she was kind of a vigilante and had stabbed a couple of people here. A little. Speaking of, she should probably call that ambulance soon, one for the guys would definitely need it and the rest could do with a once over and a few bandages. Cuts tended to need that kind of treatment.

Phoning it in and mention to them where the thugs were from and what was going on, she was reasonably sure the police would deal with it. They might not like the X's but some of them would look the other way when it came to some of their actions for the opportunity to take down gangs and smugglers. Didn't stop them trying to arrest her at every chance they got. "Come one, lets find somewhere a bit more private to talk. I have a few questions for you, and some thanks to give." Down girl, stop flirting. If he was on the level, he'd have a decent chance of being on the team and Cait didn't date within the team. Or at all really but that wasn't the point damnit. Relationships always made things awkward on a team like theirs.

"I'm Shivs by the way," she smiled, offering a hand, "Nice to meet you."

Right they really did have to go now, taking one last look at the destruction in the alley way and feeling just a slight twinge of guilty for the scratches on the floor and multiple holes eaten into the walls and floor, she couldn't help be be a little proud. He first face off with an acid mutant and she'd gotten away burn free. That was a success in her book.

Her voice, yeah, it sounded off. Like someone trying at an accent or trying to hide an accent. He was no master at languages or language, so he couldn't place what was off about it. Maybe something from the United Kingdom? European is always a safe bet for interesting accents. Then again, someone who sounds French might be from Canada. It's never good to judge by voice alone. So far, all he'd judged about her was that she was pretty and pretty brutal in a fight. Also, great. Was was good, yeah.

She was great, and also, Benji got the feeling that she was hurrying him along. He got that from the fact that she suggested they move somewhere else, so they didn't get tangled in police politics and questions. He nodded at that. "Okay." It sounded sensible to him.

The woman was caught up in her thoughts for a moment, probably planning how to handle said phone call to the ambulance and the police, then snapped back to the prior thought with another urging. An urging to come on, to a 'more private place' where she could show her appreciation. The primitive lizard brain was out in full force, and he fended it off before it growled caveman approval. Down boy. This isn't that kind of situation. And definitely rely not why he'd stepped in with the assist.

Benji smiled at her and her introduction, and shook her hand, then realized she couldn't see his smile, because duh, he still wore his motorcycle helmet. The one that prevented her from seeing his sincere lack of poker face, and all the mental gymnastics going on in the foreground of his mind.

Shivs, huh? "Charmed." A sideways smile slipped smirkily onto his helmeted dumb face. "I guess my handle is Cheshire, so far." That'd work for the moment. His helmet turned towards the mouth of the alley, then back to her. "Lead the way, Shivs." He gestured with a sweeping arm and a half bow. After a moment, he added as an afterthought. "I've got a motorcycle, if you want to travel a bit further than the next street over." His voice had the hint of a chuckle to it.

The motorcycle was y the alleys entrance. He wasn't leaving his bike this close to criminals and cops. It was a good bike. And it could be traced right back to him.

"Could be worse, you could get stuck with a stabby nickname that just won't go away." Shivs wasn't her first choice, but one of the other X's had started to call her it and soon she pretty much didn't have a choice of code names. Cheshire on the other hand was fun, mysterious and frankly it fit the weird movements he made, the blue streaks she'd caught out the corner of her eye.

The helmet really should have given that away, of course he had a motorbike. How on earth could she say no to a chance to jump on one? They were awesome to ride and if her parent's hadn't gone nuclear when she suggested getting one of her own she'd be riding around on one of her own. "Hell yes I want to go for a ride, love being able to get a chance for one." it was also, a pretty sound tactical descion. Getting further away than a couple blocks was a very good idea and frankly, she could do with something cold and sweet to drink.

Walking confidently out of the alley, she had to give a appreciate growl over the bike. They were just so beautiful and sleek, like the big cats of the motor vehicle world. She couldn't fault the guys taste's, it was very nice to look at and frankly, she looked too much the part of a biker girl to give up this opportunity.

"You know the way to the Melting Leaf Room? It's quiet and we should be able to talk there." Better to head off any thoughts of what she might be offering, as much fun as that would be. Right now she had to do the whole, responsible thing and if he was a potential recruit, she really didn't want that dynamic going into a team. If she hadstrong thoughts on anything it was dating in a work setting.

If not though, he was fair game for a little friendly entertainment.

"So, you got another helmet or do I get to feel the wind in my hair?" Oh she could hear her dads voice already lecturing her. God he'd throw a fit if he saw his little girl on a motorbike, without a helmet on......again.

Cait really needed to learn from her mistakes.

That was true. His nickname could have been worse. Like quickshot. Or... well, there wasn't much to top that one. He laughed. "True enough."

His bike, she liked. Liked the idea of, liked the appearance of, even growled a little at the sight. As she appreciated the bike, Benji appreciated her reaction. And maybe, just a little, surreptitiously, her.

He thought about her question for a moment, then recalled the place. A tea and coffee shop run by an Asian man and his son. Nice people. His son sometimes even showed off by using his fire mutation to heat the tea. "Yeah, I know how to get there." He replied.

Benji glanced at the bike. He didn't have any spare helmets. That was one thing he had not thought of.

"'Fraid you get to feel the wind. I didn't pack a spare." He'd offer his own, but it made more sense for the driver to wear the helmet if they only had one. "Sorry about that~" Benji said.

The Korean climbed up onto his motorcycle and started it up, then looked back towards her. "Hop on," he smiled.

Once she was seated, he took off towards the Melting Leaf. The drive took about ten to fifteen minutes. He parked the bike in a motorcycle spot out front, waited for her to climb off, then followed suit. Benji pulled his helmet off and rested it on the handlebars. He smiled at her, showing his real face for the first time. Secret identity, exposed! Though it was unlikely she'd know him from anyone else. The real question, at least for him, was if this was a place where she could hide behind a mask and they wouldn't care. Or would she take it off? "Well? Shall we?" He gestured towards to cafe. When they entered, he held the door.

"Oh what a shame, but I think I'll live," she teased, pulling her out of the professional ponytail and shaking it out. God it felt good to let it breathe, even with that horrible dye in it. This was going to be so fun.

Sitting behind him and balancing fairly easily, the drive was nice, if a little windy and eye watering thanks to her not having face protection on. Still, it was good to feel the movement and wind tugging her hair. The humming of the engine and slight movements as the bike rocked to the side with every turn were fun and she could really imagine having one of her own. Someday. Maybe when her parents had chilled out a little.

Climbing off with ease and stretch her arms to work out any kinks, she could get used to that. If he joined the team he was so being one of the transport methods and she had perpetual shotgun. She loved Raine but no way was she sharing this much fun. He was pretty cute too, not that it matter, at all and he had the obvious features of someone with Asian decent. That was about as far as she could guess though, with the large amount of Chinese, Japanese and Korean populations in the US she didn't want to make the mistake of labeling him something he wasn't. She got enough Irish comments to hate that.

Peeling back her mask and storing it in one of her many pockets, she also pulled out a small black package that folded out into a decent size sports bag. Couldn't be wandering around with her pretty recognisable jacket on now could she? That stored and her upper body reveling in the slight breeze, she was so glad she only needed a thin tank top under that leather. Leather was awesome, and resistant but by god it didn't breathe, especially the heavier duty biking one she'd sprung for.

He was so sweet, holding the door open. Someone had manners! Always a bonus. "Thank you, what are you wanting to drink? It's on me, I owe you one after all. If not for the help then for the ride, that was awesome."

Best thing about this place was the kind older owner. His son was nice, pleasant and fun to talk to but his father was just so cool to talk to. He'd patiently listen to all his customers and always had a smile for a tired young woman who'd just finished an all nighter playing with the band. Oh and the tea was to die for! Real leaves brewed so carefully and  delicately with so many good flavours to try.

"Mako! How have you been, it's so good to see you again." Hard to not have a broad grin on your face in this place and the thought oh a nice relaxing tea with her and Mister Cheshires chat. 

The man didn't even miss a beat, he was used to her turning up with dyed hair and if he suspected anything, he kept it to himself. Like she'd thought, good people here."Hello again dear, the usual drink or maybe today's special?" Cait couldn't resist his specials, when he did them they were always fantastic.

"Who am I to say no to one of your suggestions? Oh and I'm paying for my friends as well, so don't let him try," adding a little joke at the end. She was appreciative for the help and a drink was a good way to start.

He gave her one of his (now trademarked, he supposed) Cheshire grins, and answered. "Green tea would be great, thanks. With a little honey." Simple, classic, to the point. Part of him had wanted raspberry iced tea, part had wanted cinnamon or peppermint, but he'd had their green tea before, and the remaining part didn't want to appear indecisive. And having had their green tea before, he could decisively state that it was excellent.

It seemed she did know the owner. Though not in a way where her face mask would have been commonplace. Just a friendly knowledge like she stopped there often. Cool, cool, cool.

"The special today is Jasmine tea," Mako told her.

He gave a casual wave to Mako, nodded. "Green tea, please. With a hint of honey." He said.

"Excellent choice," Mako said. He gestured them towards a nearby booth, then left to handle the orders himself.

Nearby, Mako's grandson was bussing a table during the place's downtime. They had another person, a woman with jet black hair kept in a short bob. His fiancé. She was waitressing. But Mako had already nabbed their orders.

Benji sat in the booth, and nodded to Shiv. "Good choice."

Oooo Jasmine tea, one of her favourites. Mako knew her tastes pretty well and his tea always tasted fresh and wonderful. For a British person living in the U.S. good quality tea was a life saver. "Sounds wonderful, I'll have to go for it."

Cheshire went for green tea? Hard to argue against a choice like that in a traditional tea shop, good to know he had decent taste and anyone who Mako rated was good in her books, the man was an excellent judge of character. Hopefully this chat would get some positive results. One way or another.

Nodding and smiling warmly at the young woman waitressing and sitting slowly in the booth she turned her full attention on the man across from her. "Thank you, same to you. Can't go wrong with a classic." OK, chances are the guy had already clocked her, admittedly poor, accent and the fact she took certain measures to cover her identity. Time for a wee bit of trust.

Dropping the accent for her normal voice, "I hope you don't mind we don't use names, can't be giving away too many secrets after all. But thank you, you really saved me some massive trouble. So, why did you do it?"

It sounded like an easy question but those answers were very important. Some people lied when they replied, hoping to big themselves up, others didn't really know. Getting an idea of her new friends motivations would help see if he was a good potential recruit.