(no subject)
WHO: Beatrix Kiddo, the tenth Doctor
WHEN: Friday afternoon. Lol backdated.
WHAT: Bea stealing a car and trying to get the hell out of dodge.
WHERE: The fasted way out of Salem.
WARNINGS: None, I think. Car-stealing. Maybe some swearing.
NOTES: Just putting this up now to keep it within comm chronology. IT WILL BE EPICALLY BACKTHREADED, since Callie's on hiatus for the coming week.
Bea knows this town. She follows her warden off the ship and down into the streets filled with Halloween shoppers, and can't quite believe her luck. Salem, Massachusetts, United States of America. Half an hour from Boston--half an hour from Logan Airport. All she needs is a car, and she's good to go.
Ditching her warden is almost offensively easy. Bea lets him lead the way and watches him be about as excited about this outing as a ten-year-old about a field-trip to Disney Land. She waits for him to be distracted by something shiny--a hat, a pointy witches' hat one of the stores has on display in front of their shop windows--and slips around a corner, hurrying down a side street and slipping into a crack between two buildings, moving along the walls until she reaches a wooden board fence. She hops over it and ends up in a dirty, earthy patch of non-grass next to a parking garage. Well. That's convenient.
Finding the garage's elevator is easy enough; so is watching the little display indicating the elevator stopping on the fourth floor before it moves downwards to ground level. She backs a couple of steps away, and when the doors are about to open with a chime, she breaks into a jog. The man she collides with as he steps out of the elevator is tall, maybe 40 years old, and wearing a loose jacket. Perfect.
"Oh, I am so incredibly sorry," she splutters as she slips her hand into his jacket pocket and steals his keys. "Are you okay? I'm in a bit of a hurry, wasn't thinking, just trying to catch the elevator, I'm--"
"I'm fine," the man says, holding up a hand, clearly made uncomfortable by her proximity and her flustered flailing. "Really, I'm okay. No harm done."
She smiles and steps back, concealing his keys in the hollow of her hand. "I really am sorry." The elevator door chimes, and she fakes startled surprise. "Oops! Should probably catch that, shouldn't I?"
More smiling, and a few more deliberately awkward phrases, and then she's in the elevator and the doors are closing, cutting the man in the jacket off from view. Bea closes her fist around the keys in her hand, tightly, and stabs a finger at the fourth floor button. This is going well.
The remote unlocking mechanism identifies the car she just acquired to be a blue Lexus IS 250. She allows herself a smile and slips behind the wheel. Leather seats. She can't complain.
She backs the Lexus out of its spot and out of the garage. There's a GPS system integrated in the dashboard, and she sets it to Logan Airport, her smile widening as the thick red line appears on the map display. As she flicks on the radio, she gets Lynyrd Skynyrd playing Freebird for her on the Classic Rock station.
No, really. She can't complain at all.
WHEN: Friday afternoon. Lol backdated.
WHAT: Bea stealing a car and trying to get the hell out of dodge.
WHERE: The fasted way out of Salem.
WARNINGS: None, I think. Car-stealing. Maybe some swearing.
NOTES: Just putting this up now to keep it within comm chronology. IT WILL BE EPICALLY BACKTHREADED, since Callie's on hiatus for the coming week.
Bea knows this town. She follows her warden off the ship and down into the streets filled with Halloween shoppers, and can't quite believe her luck. Salem, Massachusetts, United States of America. Half an hour from Boston--half an hour from Logan Airport. All she needs is a car, and she's good to go.
Ditching her warden is almost offensively easy. Bea lets him lead the way and watches him be about as excited about this outing as a ten-year-old about a field-trip to Disney Land. She waits for him to be distracted by something shiny--a hat, a pointy witches' hat one of the stores has on display in front of their shop windows--and slips around a corner, hurrying down a side street and slipping into a crack between two buildings, moving along the walls until she reaches a wooden board fence. She hops over it and ends up in a dirty, earthy patch of non-grass next to a parking garage. Well. That's convenient.
Finding the garage's elevator is easy enough; so is watching the little display indicating the elevator stopping on the fourth floor before it moves downwards to ground level. She backs a couple of steps away, and when the doors are about to open with a chime, she breaks into a jog. The man she collides with as he steps out of the elevator is tall, maybe 40 years old, and wearing a loose jacket. Perfect.
"Oh, I am so incredibly sorry," she splutters as she slips her hand into his jacket pocket and steals his keys. "Are you okay? I'm in a bit of a hurry, wasn't thinking, just trying to catch the elevator, I'm--"
"I'm fine," the man says, holding up a hand, clearly made uncomfortable by her proximity and her flustered flailing. "Really, I'm okay. No harm done."
She smiles and steps back, concealing his keys in the hollow of her hand. "I really am sorry." The elevator door chimes, and she fakes startled surprise. "Oops! Should probably catch that, shouldn't I?"
More smiling, and a few more deliberately awkward phrases, and then she's in the elevator and the doors are closing, cutting the man in the jacket off from view. Bea closes her fist around the keys in her hand, tightly, and stabs a finger at the fourth floor button. This is going well.
The remote unlocking mechanism identifies the car she just acquired to be a blue Lexus IS 250. She allows herself a smile and slips behind the wheel. Leather seats. She can't complain.
She backs the Lexus out of its spot and out of the garage. There's a GPS system integrated in the dashboard, and she sets it to Logan Airport, her smile widening as the thick red line appears on the map display. As she flicks on the radio, she gets Lynyrd Skynyrd playing Freebird for her on the Classic Rock station.
No, really. She can't complain at all.