Secret Escape{Open}

[Jamie -Firehazard- Manlow]

The rumble of the 1970 Chevelle SS' engine was more of a comfort than something that was meant to scare one from sleep. Jamie pulled the muscle car into the garage, loving her car despite the fact that it was meant for a man to drive. Turning the engine off she sat there with a sigh, glancing in her mirrors as the doors closed and she was safely back in the school. She had gone for a ride to just clear her head from the weeks buzz since school was getting into a normal roll. The constant talking of the students still bothered her sometimes so she had to clear her head at least once a day. She had wound up in the little town a good forty minutes away and had gotten herself a soda before coming back to the school. The carbonation had bubbled in her throat and kept her content, giving her a caffeine fix that she had been craving.

Opening the door to the silver car and climbing out, Jamie set her bag and such on the roof so she could make sure she had everything she had needed. Pulling a plastic bag from the back seat and putting it into her backpack, she shut the door before sitting on the hood. In all honesty she really didn't want to go inside just yet since she was enjoying the quiet so much. Behind the walls there were students yapping away and creating a lot of noise, something she hadn't counted on when she became a teacher here. Being the teacher of Defense in long range and hand to hand combat meant dealing with students disobeying orders all the time. That annoyed her since some of the students could really get themselves hurt if they didn't listen and in the past week, she had sent four to the hospital wing. It wasn't like she was teaching them dangerous, it was the students that had decided they were going to do bad things to each other.

Shaking her raven haired head, Jamie hopped off the hood but left her stuff there, deciding she would sketch while sitting there. In the garage alone there were some things she could sketch for practice and it had been a few days since she had really drawn anything. Digging her sketchbook from her backpack and sitting on a stool in the front of the garage, she began to sketch a few of the cars and bikes in the garage. It helped her mind stay clear and not get too jumbled with the daily grind. If only this always worked.

[Remy Lebeau]

Remy’s head jerked around at the sound of a car pulling into the garage, but turned back to his own project with a shake of his head. Who ever it was thankfully killed their engine and making the garage suddenly very quite. He whipped a drop of sweat that threatened to drop in to his eye with the cleanest pair of his greasy hands, before reaching for a crescent wrench.

He groaned softly as he struggled to loosen the last bolt, that was holding the manifold to the motor of his bike. “Come on, belle,” he muttered under his breathe as applied a little most presser to the wrench in his hand causing pain to ripple up his arm and to his still healing wound. The tool slipped from his grip and clattered to the floor beside his head as his other hand when reflexively to his shoulder, where the pain had flared.

He cursed softly as he waited for the pain to abate enough for him to relax and let his head to rest on the padded plastic headrest of the mechanic’s scooter, the ones that made it easier for a mechanic to slide in and out from under cars.

Maybe this hadn’t of been one of his better ideas, but he had been going crazy in his room just laying there. One could only play so many card games before even he got bored. He had to do something and since he couldn’t even think about starting any of his training, even the mildest of them, and tinkering with his bike had seemed like a good idea at the time. But now an hour later after changing his oil and spark plugs, he was tired. Most then tired, exhausted, and he didn’t know if he had to the strength to get to his own feet let alone walk back to his room.

It was sad really, even two months after he had gotten shot his was still as week a kitten and had hardly any stamina not that he would ever admit that to anyone but Hank.

[Jamie -Firehazard- Manlow]

Jamie hadn't even been paying much attention to what was going on in the garage. She hadn't noticed Remy messing with his bike not too far from her car and she just zoned out while drawing. It wasn't until the loud clang of a wrench hitting the cement floor that made her jump with a squeak, drawing a thick black line across the page of her sketchbook. Her heart was going nuts from the sudden sound in the silent garage and she had to grab hold of the stool to keep from falling off it. Taking the minute or so to gain her breath back, Jamie set her sketchbook down on the hood of her car before getting off the stool. Her short legs walked towards the noise that she had heard and she peered around a car slowly.

It was just Remy, thank god, and he was working on his bike. She could tell he had done some decent work on it by the fact he had grease all over him which only made her smile. Standing up straight once more and looked down at Remy, she took the last half a step around the car to be next to him. "Hi, Remy. Feeling better?" she asked gently, knowing of his injury and all since most of the teachers did. Her tiny little body leaned against the car behind her while she watched Remy, curious as to what he was doing. If he wanted her to go away she would, but he had caught her attention before when she was teaching.

She had passed Remy a few times in the school but she was always was on her way to something. Last time she was late for her own class and had to cram an entire lesson into one tiny little session instead of in the long, hour and a half she normally had. She found him to be very attractive, even with those bright red eyes of his, and now that it was quiet and she wasn't running somewhere, maybe she would try to get to know him. Jamie really didn't know that many people despite being a teacher here, being shy kind of did that to you. That combined with the anti-touching thing of hers meant she didn't have a whole mess of friends.

[Remy Lebeau]

Remy had closed his eyes briefly sighing as he did he heard the sound of someone moving around not that far away from him. The diver of the car must of not left the garage yet. He blindly reached around his head for the wrench he had dropped, but his fingers touched nothing but cold cement. Frowning he opened his eyes as he reached around some more until he found a wrench, he looked and found it was too small for the bolt he was trying to loosen.

Wrong one. He grumbled as he tried to tilt his head back to look for the one that he had dropped and saw Jamie’s head peek around a car. He blinked in confusion as it took him moment for his brain to comprehend the upside down image. He smirked as she stepped fully around the car. She was a small cher, but a pretty one. ‘Oh come on Remy, S’e be a bit too young for yo’,’ he thought as he glanced back to his bike. ‘Besides yo’ do not even ‘ave de strength to finish tunin’ yo’r bike let alone wooin’ a cher.’

“Bon jour, ma cherie,” he greeted with a nod as his other hand still searched for his missing tool. “Remy, not feelin’ any worse,” he admitted with small smile. “But it could be worse t’ough too… uh-ha found it,” he stated happily when he found the right wrench. Then turned back to his last bolt. “Maybe Remy, will get dis done sooner den he t’ought,” as he positioned the wrench to take another crack at the stubborn bolt.

[Jamie -Firehazard- Manlow]

Smiling when Remy spoke, Jamie tilted her head a bit as she listened intently. Remy's accent was incredibly hot despite the fact a lot of the students found they had trouble understanding Remy yet Jamie had no trouble. Coming from Ireland and having to listen to her grandparents, who had the thickest of Irish brogues, meant she could understand almost anyone in the world. On top of his accent he was cute but Jamie had never really taken notice of him until now. Now that she wasn't running around like she had no head she could just sit there and watch him work on his bike. Oh his bike was wonderful. Jamie had a thing for classic vehicles, whether they were cars or bikes and bikes were always captivating. They signaled a freedom that only the most daring of people would go for.

"Be thankful Hank isn't out here or he'd have your head," she warned with a smile, turning to grab her sketchbook. This would make for an interesting drawing and she needed the practice. Glancing at the car that she had been leaning against before she sat on the hood carefully, Jamie crossed her legs and began to sketch out the outline. Her eyes darted between the page and Remy, stopping for a minute when she realized the stubborn bolt was giving him issues. "I could help." She offered with a shrug, knowing sometimes heat helped loosen the metal sometimes. Deciding to stay quiet and keep her sketching going, Jamie began to add the details to the drawing. Her eyes kept moving back and forth between the drawing and Remy in utter concentration. Her hand moved rapidly across the page before settling in one spot to keep drawing.

"What kind of bike is it?" she asked softly, just curious as to what he rode. Jamie just had that love for cars and bikes that made her curious to everything about them. She knew her Chevelle SS inside and out because she was the one who tuned it up most of the time. She stopped drawing for a moment to watch Remy, eyes narrowing a little to focus in on him loosening the bolt.

[Remy Lebeau]

Remy grimaced when she mentioned Hank and pictured the big blue doctor scolding him about being out of bed when he still needed a lot of rest. The doctor might have said he could start on short bouts of light exercise, but even Remy knew he would not be impressed on his choice of workout régime. With him working on his motorcycle when he could barely get to his feet with out having to lean against something for a few minutes afterwards until the pain a baited enough for him to move again.

“Uh well, monsieur ‘ank, said Remy could move around as long as Remy does not strain ‘imself,” Remy began and shrugged one shoulder, careful to avoid using his still healing one. He paused in his motion to tug on the wrench again when he heard her offer her help. He tilted his head back in half confusion and half amusement to look at the girl again. She was perch on the hood of the car behind him and had a pad of paper balanced on her knee. He almost shook his head in amusement. The girl was nearly half his size, and probably half his weight too.

“Oh?” he began his voice light. “Yo’ ‘iddin’ super strengt’ in dat petite form of yo’r’s?” he asked with a smirk as he looked her up and down. He was not sure what this one’s powers were but if they were something along the lines of super strength she had the most deceiving look to her that Remy had ever seen. He turned his eyes back to his bike and pulled at the wrench. The bolt remained stubbornly where it was.

“Damn t’ing,” he muttered as he contemplated just giving up on the bolt until he was stronger when he heard her ask him what kind of bike he rode. He gave a soft chuckle as he set the wrench down then pulled himself out from under his bike. He flinched as he slowly and painfully sat up once her was upright he turned so he was leaning against the wheel of the car beside him.

“2007 Harley,” he said weakly as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “Mortified for a fast get away,” he took a deep breath as his head began to pound. “Dat’s ‘ow Remy got ‘ere so fast after ‘e was shot. Used deux ‘ole bottle of NOS to get ‘ere before passin’ out. Dat’s why Remy’s tryin’ to clean de intake to make sure ‘e did no lastin’ damaged. ” He brushed his bangs that had fallen into his face away as he opened his eyes and noticed that she was sketching furiously on the paper in her lap.

“W’at yo be doin’, fille?” he asked with a frown as he tried to ignore the growing pain in his body.