Sweet Tooth (open)

[Phoebe Lancaster]

Sweet Tooth

The rays of the early morning sun peeked from behind the buildings of New York City. Already the city was awake, the streets and sidewalks slowly filling. A girl with long brown hair made her way down the sidewalk, a small frown under her face and slight bags under her eyes. No one paid mind to her as she stopped in front of a small, cute cafe sandwiched between a laundromat and a family-owned convenience store. A little above the door was a sign, proudly boasting the name, Cafe Bonheur! In swirled script. The girl dug around inside her purse, drawing out a set of keys and unlocking the door.

Flipping on the light, the cafe came alive. It had the look of a typical French Cafe, the walls painted a sweet pink with gold swirls painted to look like vines along the two side walls. Wooden tables dotted the floor, Chairs with pink cushions sat around them, spaced just enough for the cafe not to be too crowded. Glass cases, filled with treats already set out, separated the front from the back of the store, a small cash register sat on top. The girl smiled, hearing the sounds of snoring in the back, a sign that the manager had gotten here earlier.

"Phoebe!!!!"

Phoebe turned, her dark blue eyes settling on the blond twins that had just walked in the door. Allie, the girl who the bubbly voice belonged to practically skipped over to the case, as hyped up as ever even in the earliest of mornings.

"Ooo! Boss set out the treats already!" she said, eyes only for the deserts. Alex, the taller one of the two came inside, nodding his hello to Phoebe before heading back, dragging his sister along with her. Watching them go, Phoebe couldn't help but smile. Even after a long night, coming to work always seemed like a wake-up call. With a shake of her head, she dumped her bag behind the counter and flipped the sigh from 'Closed' to 'Open'.

"Just another day," she said softly.

[Christopher Mason]

Christopher's day had started off just the same as it always had, dispite the fact that after he'd been treated like a 5 year-old since he'd gotten to work. His father was on his case again about some numbers not matching up right from the time he walked in the door, to the time he go to his office and gotten situated. "I told you I'd check them when I got in, didn't you hear me?" Chris threw at his father in morning frustration, but talking back to your father was a bad thing. Being the son of a CEO, just mad it worse than normal. Their shouting match had lasted a while, but thankfully nothing was thrown or broken this time. Unfortunately, Chris got downgraded for his outburst this morning and sent on coffee run to 'teach him a lesson'. Whenever his father was 'teaching him a lesson', he always made him a mule. Go get coffee and doughnuts, go file my paper work, fill the printer and empty the shredder. Those jobs always pissed him off, and now he was getting doughnuts and coffee at a stupid little shop in the middle of town.

Storming out of the office and shooting his father a very nasty look, he headed out the door and snatched the keys out of his pocket. For a moment he stared at the elevator but he decided against it, figuring he'd blow up on the wrong person if he was stuck in the box with them. Hitting the stairs, he began to mumble to himself about his douche of a father and how he wasn't a dog to fetch the paper or get his slippers. It was bullshit how his father treated him and his mom like he didn't care about how they were or what they felt, just about his stupid job. Reaching the parking garage beneath the building, he hit the unlock button his key ring and heard the corresponding beep. The car's, a beautiful red 2012 Mustang, lights flashed at him and promptly opened the door and barreled out of the garage. giving a flash of his badge to the guard, the gate came up and he tore out.

It took him a bit to find this little cafe, but when he did his nose went up in disgust. The placement was awful, a laundry mat next to a cafe? What a terrible place for a man of his stature to be walking into. Parking his care right in front of the cafe, he grabbed his sunglasses and threw them on before getting out and heading for the door. Behind his back he locked the car once more and grabbed the handle, opening it up to walk inside. As if diarrhea of the mouth hit him when he saw the pink, he blurted out loud. "Looks like Strawberry Shortcake threw up in here." Even through the darkness of his glasses he could see the pink, and that was bad. Grabbing at the edges of his black suit coat, he straightened it slightly and began to walk up to the counter and to a lovely young lady that was waiting to help him. She had a wonderful figure and beautiful brown hair, he smirked and lowered his glasses to see her a bit better. "Hello Sweety. How's your morning going?"

[Phoebe Lancaster]

Phoebe headed to the back, grabbing her purse along the way. Allie was sitting on the small table, chatting as Alex pulled on his apron, a regular black one with Cafe Bonhuer written across it in white. Putting her purse up on one of the hooks along the wall, Phoebe pulled on her own apron.

"Alex, there's some boxes in back, mind bringing them in? And Allie, stop yapping and get out there. The morning rush is coming up and we need the coffee brewed," Phoebe instructed. Alex nodded, silent as always and headed out the back door. Allie nodded, hopping off the table and heading out the the cafe, her blond ponytail bouncing up and down. With a small yawn, Phoebe poked her head in the office, shaking her head as she saw their manager--a lanky, middle aged man with large glasses--asleep at him desk.

"Hey, old man!" she said, kicking his desk a bit, in no mood for their daily ritual of her yelling at him, him whimpering pathetically, and so on and so forth. With another shake of her head, she headed back out to the front, rolling up the sleeves of her white shirt. Phoebe had to admit, in the early morning quiet, this place was pretty nice. She leaned against the counter, back to the front door, enjoying the silence. Or, near silence. The sound of the coffee maker coming alive mingled with Allie's not-so-quiet humming. She smiled. Yeah, this place was heaven in the morning.

The sound of the door opening announced their first visitor, his words wiping the smile off her face in a second.

"If you hate it that much, then leave," she said, turning to face the customer. Her dark blue eyes studied him quietly. Blond hair, tall, athletic build. His dark, obviously expensive suit contrasted dramatically with the rest of the cafe. She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow at him. Seriously? Sunglasses indoors? Dear Lord... Her instant dislike of him deepened as he came closer and she couldn't help but give him an icy smile in return.

"Great up until you walked in the door," she replied. Allie, observing them, bounced over. The little high schooler looked between the two and turned her wide smile onto the man.

"How can we help you today sir?" she asked.

[Christopher Mason]

The fact she didn't want him there after his first comment made him smirk just a bit more deep inside, feeling a chuckle rising in his throat but suppressing it the urge to let it out. He couldn't leave, if he did he would surely be fired for coming back empty handed. Fired and mocked by his father for not being able to follow simple orders. Such a douche bag. As he moved closer to the counter, he removed his sunglasses and tucked them into his white shirt, which was unbuttoned at the top to allow his neck to breathe. He hated being constricted and only wore ties when he was called to a meeting, which was a rarity since he worked in invoicing. "I'm ordering something, don't you worry your pretty little face." He chuckled to her, letting his smirk roll into a smile.

"Great up until you walked in the door." She was spicy, and that made it all more the fun for him. Turning his attention to the, even younger, blond girl, Chris moved up to the counter and began to pull out a piece of paper from his pocket. Giving her a wink, he turned back to the brown haired girl and placed the paper on the counter to slide it over. "I think it'll take both of you to fill the order. It's from Regal Oils." Everyone should have known that name, no matter who or what rock you crawled out of yesterday. They owned half the US's oil and distributed it to most of the gas stations everywhere, including outer lying countries such as Canada and Mexico. On the paper, which was face up, it had literally an armies worth of stuff on it. About 30 different types of donuts, each with several of the same type they needed, and 20 cups of coffee. Some with sugar and cream, some black or with just sugar. It was a huge order, to say the least.

"It might take a while, so maybe I should just get my coffee now. French Vanilla latte, with a little creamer." He turned around and put his hands in his pockets, moving over to a table and pulling out the chair. With his back to her, he spoke again. "Oh, and if you spit in it, just make sure it's a good one." He had a feeling it was probably going to happen, but if it was then she'd better just hock a lougie in it. Honestly, if she would come from behind the counter and punch him in the face it still wouldn't have phased him at all. Taking a seat, he put his feet out from under him and gazed around the shop once more. It was just.. disgusting at how pink the place was. Made him shudder just a bit.

[Phoebe Lancaster]

Dear God, she wanted to punch him. It was too damn early and she had not gotten enough sleep to deal with him. Phoebe picked up the list and scowled. At this rate, they were going to be out of donuts not even an hour after they opened. With a sigh, she turned to Allie.

"Allie, start on the coffees. Then wake up the manager and tell him to get cooking," she instructed, grabbing a good number of the boxes from behind the counter. Allie nodded and got to work, making his coffee and bringing it to him quickly before going in the back. With a frown, Phoebe started on the donut order, lining the boxes and filling them.

"Do you want anything other than coffee? You might be here for a bit," she warned, glancing over at him. For all his pretentious behavior and made-up appearance, he seemed to be no more than the donut boy. Even if he threw around the big-name companies, it wasn't that impressive. After all, a donut boy was a donut boy. With two boxes filled, she pushed them aside and started on the next box. She glanced over at Allie, frowning when she caught the girl sneaking "covert" glances at him.

"Allie, have you finished those coffees yet?" she asked, making the girl jump and smile ruefully.

"Almost Phebes," she said, bringing five over. She stood there for a second, a large grin on her face as Phoebe continued to fill the boxes. Finally, not able to take it anymore, she shot her a dark look.

"What?" she demanded. Allie giggled, glancing at him really quick then back to Phoebe.

"He's really cute, don't you think so?" she whispered, earning her an even darker look.

"No. Now get back to work," she said, turning away from the blond. Six boxes in, she looked up at him.

"Are you going to carry all this by yourself?" she asked, raising a bow. Six donut boxes and counting with five drink holders. Either this guy had people helping him, or he seriously got the short end of the stick.

[Christopher Mason]

Hearing the woman bark orders at her co-worker made the smirk return to his face, his mind beginning to wander on who actually ran the place. Was it another good looking woman like the two of them? A family business where the girls cooked? Wouldn't that be a dream.. well, without all that gawd awful pink. Seeing her shuffle out and give him his coffee, he took it from her and shook his head. Of course, he took more notice of her when she walked back and of her back end. Not even checking his coffee before he took a drink, he set it down on the table and stood up, putting his hands in his pockets. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his wallet and began to walk toward the counter.

Watching the donuts pile up, he couldn't help but think to himself which one of them he wanted to come help him. The blond was young, but she seemed to take a liking to his personality and the way he looked at her.. which could be good. That brunette, though... she had an attitude all her own. Independent, strong-headed, and not willing to take shit. He liked that, maybe a little more than being swooned over. It was always nice to find a girl that was hard to get, especially when he could drink it all up in the end. The talking between the two was muffled from behind the counter, but the glances that the young one was giving to him made him feel as if they were talking about him. Another smirk creeped across his face and he found himself at the counter once more.

Finally seeing all the product begin to stack up, he looked over to where they were filling more. Nah, he was definitely going to have the brunette help. Maybe the blond could help him with coffee, open the door or something useful. "I am going to need some help carrying it to my car." He chuckled underneath his breath. If he'd have known it was going to be this easy, then he would have volunteered to go and pick everything up. Man, what fun Jim must have had when he went to the other donut shops. Well, he guessed not as much as him. Jim was gay, but Chris.. Oh, Chris was definitely straight. "I'll pay for it now." Whipping out a company credit card, he placed it on the counter then reached back in to grab something else.

Not only did he pull out a $50 bill, he also accompanied that by three of his own personal cards. Red and blue symbols on a white card that stated his name, number and title. 'Christopher L. Mason, 646.345.1987, Invoicing, Regal Oils'. laying them on the top of the counter beside the donuts closer to the blond girl. While the brunette was the one bossing everyone around, the blond would certainly.. perhaps want to have one. He could wait for her to become of age, he'd done it before. Was with the girl for a few months, but hey.. it was worth it for 18 to hit.

[Phoebe Lancaster]

She watched him come over to the counter, catching the look in his eyes. Arrogant, predatory. She felt a chill run up her spine. It was the same look she often saw vampires get when they were watching a group of humans. It was hungry, like they were trying to decide who they were going to devourer. Unconsciously, Phoebe reached up and touched the silver cross under her blouse.

As he got out his money, she turned to Allie. She had finished the coffee orders, now content with swooning over him. Not please with the way the girl was staring, Phoebe decided it was time for him to go.

"Ring him out and start restocking the donuts," she said, snapping the girl out of her daze.

"Okie dokie!" said Allie, all too happy to comply. She rung him up quickly, handing him back his card.

"Thank you! And please come again Chris!" she said, giggling as she was banished into the back by another of Phoebe's dark looks. With a shake of her head, Phoebe pushed the five drink holders toward him and came around to the front.

"Come on. The sooner you leave the better," she said, grabbing the ten boxes of donuts, balanced precariously, and headed toward the door. Moving carefully as a tightrope walker, she headed to the door, bumping it light with her hp and slipping through, careful of the boxes. The morning sun, now beating down on the citizens of New York, blinded her slightly before she turned away. A red mustang shone in her peripheral vision and she could only guess that it was his. She couldn't help but roll her eyes and turn to him, frowning.

"Over compensating much?" she asked sarcastically.

[Christopher Mason]

Seeing the blond girl's reaction to him being so close to the counter made him smirk all the more, making sure to keep his sweet blue eyes on her form. It was sweet, this little girl. Sweet that she was entranced by him and his good looks, and that he had the power to woo her. As she was told to ring him out, he let his smirk become a smile and leaned over the counter to see what she was typing in a flirtatious manner. When she finished and his card was returned, he gave her one of the sweetest smiles this little demon could muster. "You're welcome, Sweetie. I will, just to see your pretty face." And followed it with a wink of his left eye.

Seeing the dark haired girl shake her head, he turned his attention back to her and began to grab the drink carriers. The comment she made about him leaving didn't bother him a bit, he was use to people asking him to leave. Maybe he should learn a thing or two but.. it was so hard when they were so.. scrumptious. Walking behind the dark haired girl, he watched her hips sway back and forth, letting the smirk come back to his face. The cups seemed to be positioned perfectly to where the drink carriers didn't even sway, making it a bit easy for him to carry them. How lucky. Seeing her bump the door with his hip, he turned about to catch it with his elbow and squeeze through himself.

Now he really needed the sunglasses, which were still dangling from his partly unbuttoned white shirt. Looking down for a second at his glasses, he frowned just a bit before he was being confronted about his car. Azure eyes shot upward to look at her, then to his car with a smirk. "Maybe a little."He said back, smirking. "No way I can match zero to 60 in 3.56 seconds." Another chuckle escaped his lips before he moved over to it and placed the coffee on the back of it. Reaching inside his pocket, he pulled out the keys and pressed the unlock button. It was a 4 door car, but of course it was almost spotless. "Put the donuts in the backseat." Chris moved up behind her again to do the same thing with the coffee. Maybe he was a little too close to her, but at that point he could smell the roses. Was it body scrub or perfume? He didn't know, but he knew that he could definitely smell it.

[Phoebe Lancaster]

With a small groan at his lame joke, she turned to the car, opening the back door. She was steadying the stack of boxes when he came up behind her. She froze. Everything in her was screaming TOO CLOSE! TOO CLOSE! It felt like every nerve in her body was hyper alert, and she didn't like it. She stepped as close to the car as she could, slipping the stack inside. Making sure they wouldn't all topple over, she turned around and saw just how close he really was.

Phoebe stood there for a second, cheeks burning as she just stared at him, at a lose of what to do. Put her face-to-face with a super, and everything makes sense. Put her face to face with a guy, especially a handsome one, and she just, well, froze.

Her eyes danced over his features, unable to do anything but. He was a good couple of inches above her, causing her to gaze up through her lashes at him. She hated to admit it, but Allie was right, he was handsome.

The honk of a car nearby startled her enough to advert her eyes and slip past him. She moved away, crossing her arms and looking away.

"Well, if that's all, thank you for your business. Please don't come again," she said, moving back toward the store, not giving him time to answer. She practically bolted through the door, heading past Allie and Alex, muttering something about needing more deserts out front. Her cheeks were red as she darted into the back kitchen, stopping only when she was alone.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes. Damn prick!

[Christopher Mason]

Believe it or not, Chris liked the smell of whatever thing of roses she was wearing. He'd smelled strawberry and vanilla on women, and even the occasional desperate one that doused herself in the that gawd awful perfume that grandma's wear. Roses wasn't something he ever smelled on them, no one but her. Interesting, he thought to himself. It wasn't until she turned around and stared at him for a moment that he realized how close he was. Of course, the closeness didn't bother him at all. "Well, hello." He said to her, just as the sound of the car seemed to snap her out of whatever trance she was in.

The fact that her cheeks were red made him believe he had almost won, especially because she had stared at him for so long and took something rather loud to snap her out of it. as she made her way around him, he did the same and moved to put the cups on the floor of his car, being sure to unstack some of them because he didn't want them to fall over in the backseat of his car. He had it detailed a while ago, but still.. Moving to grab his key again, he clicked it to unlock the trunk and heard it pop, some mumbling going on behind him before he spoke. "You know, I was wondering if you would like-" Chris lifted up from his car as he spoke, moving to look at where he figured she would be and.. she was gone. A bit stunned that she was gone, he sent his eyes back to the store only to see the door close and her return to the inside.

Shrugging his shoulders, he moved back to his trunk and pulled out a towel to move back and cover at least some of the coffee. If it did spill some of it would hit it instead of his floor and that made him feel just a little better. Shutting the trunk and his door, he moved back around to the front of his car to get in his driver's seat until.. Shit, he forgot his latte on the table. Heading back around his car and toward the door of the coffee shop, he opened the door and headed inside. There, he could see the little blond haired chick standing there and waving to him. "Hey Sweetie, I just forgot my Latte." He spoke, letting his devious grin be thrown in her direction. Heading back to his table, he grabbed the latte and then.. his glasses from his shirt to put them on his face. "You have a great day, honey.

Back outside he headed and to his bright red 2012 Mustang, being sure to give another glance at the name of the place. He wanted to make sure to remember it, to make an indent on his memory so he could come back again. That brown haired girl may have been less than happy to meet with him, but he was sure she could warm up. Slowly, he took off from the curb and headed back to work. Hopefully he'd gotten everything his father had wanted or he was going to be sent back. On second thought, he hoped he hadn't.

--------------------------------------- Around 4pm

Unfortunately for him, he had gotten everything on that list and as much as it was a bummer he just couldn't stop thinking about that little coffee shop. Not about the shop itself, but about the girls inside. Both of them seemed to be good, except for the brown-haired one. She was definitely a firecracker.. and the satisfaction of breaking a girl like that was always a good way to start his day off. She'd stared at Chris.. for a long while before she was able to compose herself. That was satisfying. She may have been rude to him for part of it, but when he'd come face to face with her, she'd choked. She'll break. They all do eventually. He thought to himself, making sure to pay some attention to what he was doing while carrying a rather goofy grin on his face.

[Phoebe Lancaster]

The rest of the day passed in a blur. She lectured Allie on her behavior toward Chris, took orders, spent most of her time in the kitchen. It was a relatively regular day, one that normally flew by. But Phoebe in her exhausted state had no such luck. She fell asleep during any moments of peace, though not at the right times. After the third desert burned, the manager sent her home for rest, something she fully planed to do.

But, as four o'clock rolled around and rest came to only her large cat, Phoebe gave up. Her apartment was too quiet, her mind far too busy. For no matter what she tried, the man from this morning stayed on her mind, popping up whenever she tried to rest. To say it infuriated her was quite the underestimate.

With the now awake Philomena curled up next to her on the couch, Phoebe brought out her laptop and turned it on. With a can of Pepsi in one hand, she pulled up Google, intent on setting her mind at rest. Her fingers flew over the keys as she typed in "Christopher Mason, Regal Oils." Website after website popped up, most of them new articles. With Late night Alumni playing softly in the background, she began to read.

Son of Jason Mason and Mary Mason. CEO? Wonder why he was getting donuts...CEO son's don't tend to pop in for those kind of orders. Ah, that's why. Messy divorce.The secretary? Seriously? God that's a cliche...Let's see now....college drop out. Wow, seriously player. The slimeball.

It continued on and on like that, repeating the same information over and over. It was finally eight when she decided to call it a night. Night had fallen on the city and it was time for Phoebe to go to work. She pulled her hair into a tight ponytail, swapping her her nice work clothes for something much darker. A pair of black jeans and a regular black tank covered her, simple an easy to move in. Knee-high black boots slipped over her pants, her favorite steak (Mr. Pointy) and a silver-bladed dagger slipped into each one. She checked and loaded two her guns, filling one with silver bullets and the other with wooden ones. She tucked them into her belt, pulling on a pair of arm-guards that looked more like arm warmers than anything. Two retractable blades--both made of silver--were hidden inside each of them. Finally, she slipped her favorite leather jacket on, covering her guns and arm guards. With a quick check in the mirror (No weapons showing) she headed out, grabbing her car keys.

While Phoebe tended to stay closer to home in her hunting, she had gotten a tip she couldn't refuse. Her uncle (on her fathers side, of course) had heard about a rouge vamp and their maker making their way around a district a bit farther away than usual. this of course meant that Phoebe had to drive. And while her actual driving was fine, her car was not. It was old, ridiculously so. It had been her dads before he died and she couldn't bear to part with it. She tried to keep it in as good shape as she could, but, she had no knowledge of cars whatsoever. So, on a hope and a prayer, Phoebe pulled out of her apartment's parking lot and headed down the crowded street.

About twenty minutes later in a less crowded area, it happened. Her car gave a sputter and after giving Phoebe just enough time to pull over, gave out. Smoke trickled from under the hood, earning a few disinterested, pitied, and amused looks from the few passerbys.

"Shit, shit, shit....do not do this to me!" she muttered, practically leaping out her her car and going around to the hood. She practically yanked open the hood, coughing and backing up as an eruption of smoke hit her full in the face.

Outfit

[Christopher Mason]

After about 5pm, the office had begun to dwindle down. People were wrapping up their paperwork and things they had to do so they could get home to their wives and families, while Chris continued to check over several numbers and products that were going to be coming in or being paid for correctly. His father had made him double check over the Fenner report for about the fourth time to make sure the new oil rig they'd paid for was completely off their books and covered, even though he'd told him several times he'd already looked and it was. "Check your damn books again. If I find out you didn't and this comes back on my ass.. you'll be the first to know. So help me god boy, I'm trusting you with the shit in this company and if you fuck it up.. Just hope you don't." And Chris had taken it to heart. There was no doubt in his mind that Jason would kill him.. even possibly literally. He hadn't cared about throwing his son or mother on the street, why should he care now what happens to him?

It seemed like minutes went by when the sun went down and soon he was looking at his watch and shaking his head. It was 8... He had to head out or risk staying there all night. Putting the Fenner Report into it's corresponding file, he picked up his jacket and slung it over his shoulder. His light wasn't the only one still on, but honestly he didn't really care who else was wandering about the building. Normally the cleaning crew were up and about, but he hadn't seen them. Maybe they had swept by him while he was working, he was use to missing little things like that. Too much on his mind or too focused on things he probably shouldn't be. Which reminded him that he needed a beer. Perhaps he could stop at a store on the way home.

Taking the elevator down, he watched the lights of each floor illuminate until it reached the main floor and a ding sounded. Slowly, the doors swished open and Chris was walking through the dimly lit building toward the front door and outside. Continuing down the street, sending a glance to two dolled up girls and a smirk to boot. Cuuuuute. He thought to himself, turning his eyes back to where he was walking. After reaching the parking garage, he found his beauty and pulled his keys to sound off the car alarm just as he'd done before. Opening the driver's side door, he got inside and noticed the smell of the donuts and coffee still lingered. For a moment his mind had shot back to the girl in the coffee shop, but it was soon replaced by the fact that just maybe.. he might have spilled something in his car. Giving a quick look to the back seat and the floor, he could see nothing but that didn't stop his mind from wondering if he should call the detailer in the morning or not.

Putting the key in the ignition Chris revved the engine and took off from the garage once more, starting to head for his apartment slightly on the outskirts of the city. Passing by just about every person you could possibly think of and every car, he noticed one on the side of the road, hood popped. Sucks to be them, doesn't it? Continuing on his way, he got stopped at a red light, the car slightly in front of the light itself. Smoke came pouring from the open hood as she popped it, watching her back up. It was her. Again she had showed up, and this time she was having car troubles. What the hell was she wearing?! Black, black and more black? Maybe this woman wasn't someone he should mess with. She was probably into some sort of voodoo or something, which meant trouble for him. A loud horn sounded through his back window, eyes darting to the light which had been green for slight some time.

Guess it was time to take a chance.

Pulling over to the side of the road, right in front of her car, he stopped and killed his engine. Chris hoped he wouldn't regret doing something like this. He wasn't the cautious one when it came to pretty girls, but pretty girls in black either meant they were depressed, suicidal, or crazy into dolls and witchcraft. That was something he definitely didn't need with the way he picked and ditched women regularly, a tumor would surely cause great problems if she wished it on him. Opening the door, he popped out of his car and started toward hers, giving a bit of a wave if she happened to see him pull over. "Looks like you've got some car trouble there, sweet cheeks." He said, just loud enough to be heard over top of some of the speeding cars that flew by the two of them as he enclosed on her car, almost to where she was standing.

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[Phoebe Lancaster]

Sputtering coughs racked her thin frame as the smoke continued to pour out of the hood. She closed her eyes, stepping backwards and to the side to avoid the smoke. And while that worked, Phoebe should have been paying attention to where she stepped. Her heel hit the curb and before she knew it, the tough-as-nails hunter tripped and landed ungracefully on her ass, the hard sidewalk a cruel punisher. Her butt hurt and her throat burned as she sputtered out a few more curses.

"Damn it!" she yelled, kicking at the tire with one of her feet. Her eyes watered from the smoke which was finally started to clear and over the sounds of her own coughing and cursing, a very distinct voice rose.

"No! No, no, no, no, no!!!" she muttered, standing with the same grace that she fell. Her slightly-burred vision fixed on the last person she wanted to see. For a second she hoped that this was just a cruel, smoke-induced hallucination or something. But there he was. Tall, dark and annoying as hell. For a second, Phoebe danced gleefully over the thought of a couple bullets to the head. But, seeing as he was (possibly) fully human, she wouldn't get off that easily. (Though, she could most likely find a judge and jury of angry, annoyed woman to rule in her favor).

"You! What the hell are you doing here?!" she snapped, too pissed to deal with him. She blinked a couple of times, clearing her vision enough to send him looks that would have a vamp pissing in their pants. It was official. Today was her day from hell. Things could not possibly get any worse. Which of course, meant that they only could.

Her car continued to smoke, the wonderful pedestrians of New York going from amused to annoyed looks as people hurried on, coughing themselves. Phoebe ignored them, continuing to glare at the man before her.

[Christopher Mason]

The small fall she took wasn't noticed by Chris, simply because he had still been in his car when she'd done it. As he closed his door, she was approaching her car. Of course, he could understand her frustration. He didn't like it when car troubles arose, but the difference between the two of them was that one of them knew how to tinker with vehicles. His heels clicked toward the car, watching her turn about to look in his direction, his voice carrying toward her. Then, her voice came back toward him in a barking manner. A part of him wanted to tell her to "fuck off" and leave, but the suave part of himself came forward first.

"Figured your car was on fire, so I stopped. Unfortunately it's just you.." He spoke it with such ease, giving a glance to her eyes and glare that she was throwing in his direction. For a second, he stopped and gazed at her, that stupid smirk playing across his lips before he began to walk toward her car once more. His jacket the entire time was bundled up in his hands as he walked, beginning to unravel it and hold it in his hands. Carefully, he began to put it over a part of her car. There were many reasons why cars could smoke.. some were because of leaking on the engine, which could cause severe trouble with the heads if left untreated. Others were simple and could just be a bit of water touching the muffler. This smoke looked familiar to him, at least the amount of it did.

Moving his hand down to the part he was covering his coat with, the smoke had cleared enough so it wasn't causing their breath to be hindered. "Where the hell did you get this car, out of a junkyard?" To be honest, the car looked like shit. Did she pull it out of a junkyard when the dogs were asleep? Maybe she put it together with some duct tape and gum. Who knew, but he knew it wasn't something he would ever drive, even if he wasn't rich. His mind ran about with many things that could probably be possible of ways she had accommodated this piece of junk. No sooner had he thought about ways she'd gotten it did his mind think to this possibly being a trap to murder him. It was a populated area of town... but it was night time and it definitely wasn't the center of New York. Moving his coat over a silver cap, he put his hand on it and began to touch it lightly to test the temperature. Firs thing he could think to check. Water.

[Phoebe Lancaster]

This guy just couldn't take a hint! And what was with that stupid, cheesy line?! She could only stare as he stopped and smirked at her. Did he really think girls fell for this kind of stuff?! She noticed his jacket bundled up and as he came closer, sh instinctively moved back. She could only watch in confusion as he spread it over all the parts under her hood, his eyes running over it. For a moment, she was actually considering letting him fix the car.

Truthfully, when all was said in done, Phoebe couldn't just leave her car here to rot or get stolen. It meant too much. It had been her dad's car, and his dad's before her. It was old, yeah, but it had character and history. For as long as she could remember, she had ridden everywhere in this car. To all her softball games when she was little, to every play date, to every trip to school. She had fought with her brother in this car, had played with her sister. She learned to drive in this thing and when her family died, it was the only thing (besides a picture0 that she brought with her to New York. She was was ready to let him fix it, until he opened his mouth.

"Look, I don't need you're help!" she snapped. Phoebe stepped in front of him, grabbing his jacket and yanking it off with a sharp tug. No sooner had she done that though did an eruption of not smoke, but steam, came pouring from her car straight toward her unprotected face.