eightypercentdevil | Dated 9-28-2013

She made a decision. If she was going to be stuck here, she needed a damn job. Something more than the temp cash-under-the-table deals she'd been taking so far. So she had an open paper, circling anything that called for a full-time mechanic. She was more than qualified and while she doesn't feel like being low man on the damn pole, she knew she'd take what she can get. At least for a little while. A regular job she could make contacts at. Suppliers. Customers. Then she could take a few few illicit jobs and hit the races to make some hard cash. Put them together and she should be able to open her own shop within a few months.

Hers. No one else's. All hers.

How long had it been since she had something that was truly hers? She woke up one day with nothing. No memory. No money. Nothing. So she attached herself to Owen. Trusted him, worked with... no, for him and for what? So he could serve her up to her ex when it became convenient? Then what did she do? She took off with Dom. She didn't regret it, not when she was honest with herself. There was something in her heart that missed him, needed him, had her almost out looking for that copy of him that she met when she arrived. But now that she'd had some distance she realized that she couldn't rely on that anymore. She needed to make her stand here, on her own, until she could find a way back. She wouldn't pine anymore and she'd drag herself out of the hole she'd let herself fall into.

You make your own fucking destiny, right?

Waving at the bartender for another beer, she flipped the news page and started scanning the next set of want ads. She had a plan now. She just had to hope nothing else was going to jump up to fuck her over.

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She made about as vague of a remark as someone could on the subject, and Sawyer wasn't inclined to cough up information just for that. Hell, if she wanted to ask about his job, she could, and he would make her get to that point if only because it was a certain level of respect, in its own way.

"Yeah," he said, deliberately obtuse. "It's definitely interesting."

"What, exactly, are you hunting, 'cause I don't see a lot of deer around here." If he wanted to play coy, that was fine, she had no problems being blunt. Sometimes that's the only way to get things done and she was all about getting shit done. She hated unfinished business.

She had absolutely no sense of humor, by the looks of it, which was fine. Kind of reminded him even more of Ana Lucia, to be honest, though it was one of her generally less pleasant traits. Couldn't crack a joke to save her life.

"Thugs," he replied, arching a brow. "Not huntin' them down, but definitely haulin' them in. Hand them off to the cops whenever there's someone they need a little more help with. I'd go the high road, but I ain't the academy type."

Funny, he didn't strike her as the law and order type, but from what she'd heard, she'd been wrong before. Some cops just don't read cop, but it reminded her to keep a little distance. A shame, he seemed nice, but she's a thief and racer at heart and that didn't always go over so well with the cops. "You a cop in your other life?"

"You're kiddin' me, right? Do I look like the cop type?" Sawyer asked, perplexed, before he took another swig of his drink, snorting at the mere thought. Maybe he'd gotten close on the island, close enough that he could claim some amount of experience in the business, but even then it'd been less about rules and more about keeping order.

Not exactly how this pseudo-utopia liked going about it.

"Been on the other side of the law more often. S'just that I got a clean slate here. Figured I'd take advantage."

"Cops come in all kinds." She took another drink and smiled at his surprise. It was reassuring to know that her instincts hadn't been entirely off. So he was a bad guy trying to be a good guy. It was... endearing, was that the word?

It didn't mean she wouldn't tease him a little about it. She was trying to do a lot of things, but intentionally being an angel wasn't one of them. She was still racing, still not afraid to work with hot parts, just because she wasn't intentionally taking the shit out of the cops, didn't mean she was thinking twice about them. "I think it's sweet, you trying to stay on the good side. It's almost adorable."

Maybe it was just intended as jest. Sounded like it, anyway, with the smile practically in her voice and sounding so much like Ana Lucia that Sawyer wanted to pound something. But it rubbed him in just enough of the wrong way — because it wasn't adorable or sweet, any of it. Maybe he made a piss poor excuse for a law-abiding citizen, but it wasn't a joke. Not his efforts, nor what would happen if he slid back.

So he drained his drink, and started to move to leave. And that, if anything, made him feel a lot older than he was before he landed on the Island.

"Close my tab," he told the tender, waiting for his card back. "Guess I'll leave while I'm still ahead and sweet. Hope you find your job, though. Somethin' to keep you busy in the midst of all this hell."

Dated 9-28-2013

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