Main Parking Lot and Front Entrance - V.W.A.T. Base

Just as it says, a large, flat concrete area with white lines denoting parking spaces. A guard post is set up at the entry/exit points, and the area is under constant watch.

-------------> Workout room

Passing through a god awful amount of checkpoints, they were finally able to leave the base itself and walk out onto the blacktop, where her second favorite thing in the world sat waiting for her: her motorcycle. Sleek, black, and all curved, hard lines, it was a thing of beauty and danger, and she wouldn't have it an other way. Turning to the operative with her, she holds out the harder bag to him, one that strangely matches the bike.

"Not that I don't trust you...it's just, I don't trust you."

She smiles at him, offering the bag again and moving to slide onto the bike, expecting him to follow suit behind her. She had only one helmet, and that would go to him; it would be the first - nor the last - time she'd ridden without one, and there was a sense of freedom that came from riding bare.

===>Workout room

Getting through the checkpoints was tedious as always but in a way it was comforting. At least they could be sure that some random vampire wouldn't be wandering in and slaughtering a quarter of the base. Reaching Harkness' ride, Brandon gave the bike a once over. The girl had a decent sense of taste and in all honesty, probably made a good decision in not allowing Brandon to drive. Some believed that his tendency to push limits for his own excitement was a liability or foolish. He found it to be one of his better qualities. Shrugging the bag onto his shoulders, he respectfully declined the helmet. "Keep it. I spend enough time with my face covered as it is," he said, climbing onto the bike behind her and adjusting himself into a comfortable position.

Situating herself on the bike, and feeling the sense of right that came from having it between her legs, she turns to look at him over her shoulder, helmet in one hand, ready to be put on.

"So where to? Bar, diner, or sit down dinner?"

She frown for a second, then continues.

"My place is viable too. Went to the market just yesterday."

She was leaving this entire up to him, as food was food to her, and it was getting late, so most places would be close to closing already.

Another shrug was the archer's response, his face the picture of ambivalence. "A free meal, terrible bar food, or pie that's most likely been spit in by the poor woman waitresses at this hour. Call me insane but I vote your place," he said, the corners of his lips turning up as he finished. He might come across as a bit of an ass to some. Hell, they were probably right. But this woman seemed ready, willing and able to roll with the punches thus far. With that in mind Brandon saw little reason to not push the envelope and figure out where the lines were drawn. In the end there was no such thing as harmful intel. If his little experiment eventually showed him the limits of Eleanor's patience then all the better for him. Leaning back on the bike, he set his hands on the back of the seat as a light brace for the incoming acceleration.

Her place. Hm. A diner would have been neutral, a restaurant a little formal, and a bar rowdy enough to keep some distance between them.

But he had gone for her place.

Smirking a bit, she goes to slide on her helmet when she notices him reaching back to brace on the bike. Turning a bit, she eyes him for a moment before speaking.

”You’re better off holding on to me. The curves might get a little…tight. Wouldn’t want you falling off, now would we?”

Not waiting for his response, she slips the black helmet on her head and turns the ignition. A deep growl immediately comes to life, a rumble that stretches through the entire bike. She lived for that sound, that feeling, and there was nothing better for clearing one’s mind than enough horsepower to outrun most anything on the street, and the ability to use it. Revving it once, she eases out of the parking space – careful not to hit someone’s ever so delicate sports car (though why such a thing even existed on this base she would never know) and a hummer that had been parked far too close – before slowly accelerating to the guard house, handing her credentials to the soldier at the gate before turning on to the main street.

Then things happened fast.

The engine responded without hesitation as she whipped out onto the road and toured them through traffic, the acceleration enough to force the man behind her to either hold on with a good grip or take a tumble at each leaning turn. Her apartment wasn’t far – she’d decided living at least moderately close would help with the commute – so the time it took to get there wouldn’t be all that bad. Particularly the way she drove.

Opening his mouth to reply, Cole was cut off by the sudden acceleration. Despite the woman's warning, he maintained his grip on the bike's frame until they reached the security station. He could vaguely catch an off collar comment between the guards regarding him riding on the back of the bike. Jackass. Oh well, no point in getting too worked up over something so minor. He gave a curt nod of the head to the station guards as the bike pulled away, not a trace of amusement on his face. And that was right about the time that things got bumpy. Why he had assumed that a free spirited female biker with pink leathers matching her ride would ever drive safely was beyond him. Riding out the first turn on the strength of his grip on the frame, he shifted his hands at the first opportunity, wrapping his hands around Harkness' hips and shifting his weight forward to match her own.

His hands had settled on her hips, and she couldn’t help but half-grin at the situation; he wasn’t afraid of touching a woman. He just needed incentive. They’d come to the last red-light on the way to her apartment; she could see her window on the building just ahead of them. She has her foot on the pavement, waiting ever so patiently for the other lights to cycle though, when another bike pulled up beside them. It was a green thing, all flashy with bits of yellow and white plashed here and there, and the rider was no different. Hell, he even had a Mohawk on his helmet.

Rolling her eys, she turned back to the light in time to hear him rev the bike, its sound rather tinny compared to the deep rumble of her own. Looking back to him, she stares for a moment, gauging him, looking him over and making a judgment on him that she felt was fairly sound.

Just as the light turned green, the man peels out, tires burning rubber as he squeals away.

She lets him.

It is a pointless endeavor to run down some one that a) is weaker than you and b) would send you past your final destination. Pulling off into the parking garage beneath her building, she winds her way up a couple of stories before taking a reserved spot near one of the doors. She parks and turns the black monster of a machine off, sliding out of her helmet as she waits for the man to let go.

Awful large number of obnoxious individuals running around the area tonight. Between the gate guards and the freak with the mohawk, Cole briefly wondered whether or not there was something in the air he hadn't picked up just yet. Thankfully, Harkness didn't feel the need to play with the punk tonight. His stomach was starting to growl after all. She slowed as she pulled into her spot and he removed his hands from her waist before stepping off the bike. Leaning backwards, he stretched his back a bit and once again waited for her to lead the way to her apartment. "Not interested in living life a quarter mile at a time?" he asked, referencing the film The Fast and the Furious. It was a bit of a vague reference, but he had a certain soft spot for the film, his better sense of taste in films be damned.

The blonde slides off the bike, and jangles her keys for a second, looking for the correct one to the door. Without looking back to him, she inserts the key and turns it.

Only if there is a man like Paul Walker at the end of that quarter mile.”

She throws a look of complete seriousness over her shoulder.

”Fast Five Paul Walker, of course.”

The woman shoves open the door and enters a stairwell, holding it open for Cole to follow.


----------> Apartment Complex in Fairfax