iamvictor-roth:

iamthefirechild:

iamvictor-roth:

“No, unfortunately not. I take jobs from people all over the world. If I have t’ travel I usually include expenses into the final payment.” Victor rocked back on his heels as he thought of a way to get them a quick form of transportation. “Actually, I have a guy tha’ should be in town this month. He flies cargo an’ occasionally he’ll fly people. He’s done this kind of thing for me before. So if you’re all set we can head out. He’s a few minutes out from here.”

Summer opened her mouth, then closed it again. “Okay,” she said finally. “I think we’re going to have to talk about this, though. It’s kinda seat-of-your-pants. I do not approve.” She brushed her fingertips over the sword he’d offered, then squared her shoulders. “Let’s go.”

Victor cocked his head in slight confusion, “What’d you mean by ‘seat-of-your-pants’? I can’t say I’ve heard that one before.” Victor patted himself down quickly, running through his mental checklist before grabbing his keys and heading to the door, making sure Summer was following him.

“You’re making it up as you go along.” She followed him out, twining her hair up into a bun and loosening the straps on her cuirasse. Silently, she settled herself into the car, fingers tensing and flexing on her knees. This would be different than her usual work — probably more combat, and definitely facing an enemy she didn’t know much about. With a little luck, though, her talents would give Victor an edge and wind things up very quickly.