The little Nash Rambler was right behind, you'd think that guy could fly.
This morning we left bright and early to gather up our host and head out for supplies. V and I agreed that Brian would not be safe with the bastard and romulan bitch, unsupervised. However, this decision lead to a need to break and enter, as well as a bit of tough love. I figure it was better than having to clean up a murder and hope it didn't disrupt the timeline too horribly.
First order of business was acquiring wheels. As all V and I had as assets were just ourselves and those of our personal belongings that happened to be on our person at the moment of time travel, we were limited on our options for acquiring such. She had assumed we were going to steal goods from the locals, but when I offered the alternative of placing wagers to acquire stuff with which to work, she lit up at the prospect. Brian did not seem very happy at this idea, likely for any number of reasons, people in this time period have pretty narrow moral sets. Annoying, really.
The vehicle was easier to acquire than expected. Once we talked Brian into leading us to the local knot of greasers, I marched in attitude and sex appeal blazing, and managed to remember enough of their slang to blend in enough they accepted my challenge to a race. I shot my mouth off to the one with the most badass car, as they usually tend to be the one in charge. I ended up borrowing a Nash Rambler, not a bad little car, for the race, and when I won, I got to keep it. I'll likely have Brian give it back to its owner when we figure out a way out of here, but for now it's signed over to one Desiree Foster. Even though I'd been considering it already, it feels weird to actually use his name, but it's a common enough name given the era and the location we're in, so it blends well.
While I'd been pushing the little blue rambler to its limits, V had been sweet talking the boys into placing bets against her. I am not sure what her plan had been, had I not won for some reason, but she somehow got them to agree to cash bets without showing them her cash first. I will certainly have to keep an eye on this one, both for entertainment and for the points she's spiking in my personality radar. At any rate, she collected between five and ten a head, and there were about a dozen guys loitering about, so I think we came up with a hundred, easy. More than enough to cover our shopping list and leave us with dining and gas money for at least couple days.
Shopping was fun. I got to poke through clothing styles that I'd seen old photos of and browsed through on the holodeck and through the replicator patterns for, and ended up picking out an outfit for each team member. Good thing I've got a good eye for clothing size, it looked like everything I'd picked out for Rhiana and the bastard will fit just fine. It actually didn't take us long to acquire all the supplies we needed, but V was as reluctant as I was to head back and be stuck with the bastard and the romulan bitch too quickly. We probably could have been back at the barn by early afternoon, but once we finished shopping I did some joy riding.
I needed to know how well the Rambler handled, what her top speed was, and other such important pieces of information, in case we got into a car chase or another race with someone who could handle their car better than that dipstick I raced against for the Rambler. V kept whatever commentary she had to herself, but Brian was pretty vocal the first time I came to a stop for more than a few seconds. He accused me of trying to kill us all, and when I insisted he'd be dead already if that was my intention, he accused me of wanting to play with my food. Amused though I was at this concept, I insisted that even if I was playing with him first, we'd already had sufficient time for me to get bored. Between the race, shopping and joy riding, we managed to burn through almost all of what was in the tank this morning.
We got back into town just in time to fill the tank before the station closed for the night, then I convinced V it was a good idea to sit and people watch, in the hopes of picking up some information. Since we had a minor in tow, the single bar in town wasn't going to work. The nearest diner that would be open late was off of 218, only a couple miles out of town, so we went and camped out there for a while. Sitting at the counter, we kept Brian in whatever pie would keep him quiet as V and I made small talk with the waitresses and truckers who passed through.
While I had some interesting conversations on politics and flight, I didn't find out anything actually useful to our goal. V didn't have anything to share either, and she looked tired and put out for her troubles. I can only imagine how much of a pain it is for her to force a different accent to speak in, so I didn't press her on the matter. When we all piled back into the Rambler to return to Brian's place and make sure that the bastard and the Romulan bitch hadn't found too much trouble, Brian squeaked up to mention the statue is a reproduction of one that's in the Oakland Cemetery, in Iowa City.
Being in better spirits for having information to bring back with us, V and I decided to give the bastard a display much like what he was expecting. As he was expecting us to come back drunk, we decided to act like we were when we returned. Brian really was not sure what to make of our plan, and eventually decided continuing the protest was a waste of his efforts and simply stayed quiet as V and I slung ideas back and forth. Upon returning, I parked the Rambler, loaded Brian up with all the goods we acquired over the course of the day, and V and I broke into song as we burst into the barn.
From there, it was the typical squabbling between Rhiana and the bastard, and between me and the bastard. He was rather put out when I insisted on taking second watch, after Rhiana had piped up and offered to take first. I assume he didn't sleep through her watch, and as far as I can tell, he's not fallen asleep through mine yet either. I guess he got his full ration of sleep yesterday night, so I can't say I'm surprised. Tomorrow morning should be fun, just watching him poke through his bag during my watch, I could tell the kiwi perplexes him.