Post by Sinneh on Apr 24, 2011 0:12:49 GMT -5
The tiger-shifter was lounging on one of the bar stools, black boot-clad feet propped up on the bar counter, absently twirling one of her blades in her hand. She’d just finished an assignment, and the knife she was holding had been her sole weapon used. By her feet were her two Beretta 92FS’s, modified to fire full auto with barrel weights attached to balance it all out. She been neglecting them for a while now, since hardly was there a mission she was sent on that required them. So to challenge herself, she’d limited her weaponry when she went out on jobs; a knife for this, hand-to-hand only for that, the chain-whip for that job, hell she used a rock once. Her twin brother Dare was out of town, and amazingly enough Sin was starting to miss him. At least he could keep her entertained. She sighed, putting the blade away and sitting up in the stool. She was wearing a simple black tank, her leather jacket hanging on the stool’s back. And leather pants, smooth and surprisingly soft, tailored to fit close without being tight, had become one of her favorites. Her dark, wild hair fell over her shoulders, about mid-arm in length since her haircutting fail. She was about to start cleaning her guns again when her cell vibrated, calling her attention to the new text.
A smirk played on her lips, deep dual toned blue eyes glinting darkly in anticipation. Well well well, looks like the months of waiting had finally paid off. Roscoe sent out a 911 basically, and an address. A warehouse if she remembered correctly. In a fluid motion she’d risen from her seat, holstered her handguns and knives and pulled her jacket off the chair, slipping it on snugly as she strode out of the Assassin HQ bar to mount her bike. A black Honda CBR600RR with blue flames on both sides with one having the flames form into the shape of a side profile of a lunging tiger. And like nearly all of Sin’s play toys, it was decked out to maximum performance. The helmet was back in Dare’s room, but not wanting to waste time she just revved the powerful engine, pulled the kickstand back and leaned forward as the bike roared to life as it tore down the street. She was a damn reckless driver, and the hot surge of adrenaline and energy was simply intoxicating. She made it to the downtown district in hardly no time at all and circled around back. She slowed, taking in the surroundings and doing the usual scoping out before she went in there and get herself shot. Gunshots were present, and glass breaking, shouting, heavy running footsteps. She parked the bike and set out on foot. Her gait was that of a predator, and she just had that raw, lethal air about her. She used her free-running skills to jump the fence and then she went inside the warehouse. Right when she was going to open the back door two goons came bursting out. Quicker than they could follow she’d jabbed the first guy in his adams apple hard enough to double him over trying to catch his breath and then she lunged at the second guy. She forced him against the wall, but even her impressive strength wasn’t enough to hold him. They switched positions and she kneed him in the gut, jabbing him in the liver and when he doubled over she snapped his neck. The body dropped and the click of a gun signaled her the other man was in the game again. She hit the floor and dove to the side as a bullet hit the falling man. She pivoted and slammed into the guy, letting the building pressure and stress leak out into this scuffle. And it felt good to do so. When she was satisfied, she finished it with a right hook to the temple that had him unconscious. She stood up, not even bothered by the busted lip or where the guys own punches had hit her. Funny what adrenaline could do in a fight. She pulled out her knife and proceeded to roam the warehouse, clearing it and going room by room on the ground floor. It wasn’t long until she met with another group, three this time. She had the element of surprise, so pulling out a second blade she threw them. The first hit the closest guy in the side of his neck while the second hit the guy beside him and imbedded itself in his eye to the hilt. She didn’t even flinch at their screams. They fired off wild rounds, none of which hit her. The third guy had indeed pissed himself, but she didn’t think it was from her. Even though he seemed crazed, she knew he was just as dangerous. She tapped her boot tips together and 4 inch blades snapped out. She roundhouse kicked at him but he ducked and tackled into her. She hit the floor with a grunt, and shielded her face from his grounding and pounding, wrapping her legs around him to prevent him from cocking back. She bucked, sending him off balance and then snapped a few of her own well aimed punches, rolling him to his back and with her on top and past his guard, she cranked his neck hard at the angle he’d had it until it cracked. She kicked the guns from the first two guys away lest they decide to be hero’s for their final stand.
She rounded a corner and saw yet another set of goons- but these men were unarmed and crippled enough, their will to fight gone along with any sense of ego and pride. But either way, she didn’t give them time to make up their minds. 3 silenced shots, 3 heavy thuds, 3 more pools of blood. 2 more men came from the stairs, and she repeated the dull process before they could even begin their retaliation. Scenting the familiar taint of sulfur and gunpowder by a stack of crates, she stalked her way over. She peeked in and sure enough, ammo and more firearms were neatly packed in the large boxes. Perfect. She undid her belt buckle, sliding the pale belt from the loops around her black leather pants and laid it amidst the pile of crates. Now this wasn’t any ordinary belt; it was Primacord. Military grade explosive, yada yada, anyways it was cool and she usually carried it around waiting for its purpose to surface. The detonating switch was in a pocket in her leather jacket. A gravelly groan now caught her attention, head rotating towards the sound.
And now she found Kyrian. Now this made her hesitate before she went in the room. Giving a half glance back to make sure the room was clear she jostled him awake. All he moaned was ‘Tabris and Tenma gone’, ‘Mad Dog’ ‘Chex’ and ‘lemme fuckin sleep’ With a growl she left him alone, such a help he was. A window crashed, and she heard gunfire again. She ran off, bending to retrieve her knives in stride. Even in her rush she still wasn’t oblivious to her surroundings. She registered scuffles in the dirt on the floor, dried blood, and most of the details of the rooms. Another guy, bloodied and surely hurt. But again, it was the wounded that were the most dangerous because of their unpredictability. And he did have a gun. Little did she know it was unloaded, but ah well. Intent. He cried out in surprise and then made to pistol whip her. Honed reflexes allowed her to duck without harm and when she came upright again she gripped his outstretched arm and jerked, hyperextending the elbow as she rammed her shoulder into the joint, effectively breaking the elbow with a crunch worth grinning over. Gawd this was so much fun. But she knew later she’d have to make up for it. She made to go out the fire escape, since she’d pretty much cleared the inside, or at least everyone in her way, but directly under a younger male, and nervous as all get out, was trying to reload his gun again. She breathed a heh, deft hands pulling out another throwing knife which she propelled down, and this one buried itself at the top of the guy’s skull. Before he hit the ground she leapt over the railing, and landed on the guy’s shoulders as he fell to his knees. HE bent back as she used her new momentum and angle to jump forward to land in a crouch. She rose slowly, body tense but with the graceful edge of the predator she was as she reached her full height of 5’11, another inch or so added because of her boots. Maybe another set of guys around, but far enough away so she wouldn’t have to deal with them. She retrieved her knife, and usually to wipe it she’d lick it, but these weren’t shifters, and their filthy human blood wouldn’t feel, or rather taste, right.
Another goon, carrying a crate and accompanied by a woman and an older man, were hurrying towards a truck on the other side of the fence. If only she had hackles, they’d be raised. She froze, crouched even as nature whispered to do so. But as fate would have it, the woman turned around and caught the sight of the dark clothed woman with the body behind her out in the open- and screamed. The man dropped the crate and used it as cover as he forcefully yanked the woman down and the older man, late 40’s maybe. Sin paused, head cocking to the side even as curiosity overtook her. Harsh whispers, growls, hrms…interesting indeed. She carefully slipped out her silenced Beretta. Leisurely, she made her way over to them, a strut in her step that was very feline indeed. She was 10 feet away, and then two barrels sprung up from behind the crate and fired, also silenced. She cursed, doing a duck-and-roll to the side, escaping the gunfire with only a couple grazes which only served to anger her. “Fuck yall asswipes, this was my favorite jacket.” The older man leaned over to fire at her new position, but a well placed round stopped him as his face exploded, making the woman shriek again. She did the same maneuver, mentally cursing them while snarling on the outside. This was bad, er well the worst position she’d been in yet. Already her dark sapphire gaze slitted, canines elongating and nails darkening and curling with the urge to shift. In constant motion to avoid the hail of gunfire, she sprang up and sprinted towards them, her full auto Beretta emptying its clip into the crate to penetrate those trying to take shelter behind it. The woman she’d gotten quite a few times in the abdomen, and the guy in the shoulder and arm. She dove at the woman, this was a mercy killing. Sin was on top, one arm behind her head and the other skillfully gripping her jaw as she broke the woman’s neck. The guy started to kick her, and she took a few blows to her side and head before rolling off the woman and clicking her boots together so the hidden blade would pop out. He was suddenly looming over her prone figure, switchblade in hand as he madly slashed. She managed to sit up and catch him by the wrist, taking a slice down the top of her forearm, and she tugged him down and off balance so he’d fall into her death trap. She formed an awkward triangle choke with his face in the dirt and against her thigh. After struggling his damn best, he bit her, and she responded with an ouch and a pistol whip on the back of his head as she squeezed harder. She ground him into the dirt harder, and soon enough he suffocated. Well at least she hoped so because then another goon, a short hairy guy late 20’s and tatto’d as if his life depended on it, aimed a powerful kick to the back of her head. Her vision darkened and her hearing a bit fuzzy, and she might’ve muttered another curse. She curled into a ball and rolled to the side, so instead of getting hit in the same spot she caught he force of the blow on her shoulder. She pivoted in the dirt and roundhouse kicked him in the temple, pulling back and curling her lip as the blood spurted form his temple and onto her pants. She kicked him again, sending the blade into his thigh, hip and calve before getting back to her feet before he could fall on her.
A bit unsteady on her feet at first, but she dusted herself off and loped along the fence-line again. More crates, and another gunshot. Damn these humans would sure pose a problem. Following the gunshot- a roar. Her body locked, frozen as thoughts spun and realization erupted in her mind. She was naturally protective, and dominant…((among other things we wont get into now)) but to have some….human, hurt one of her fellow assassins…
“Ah, Hell. No.”
She ran again, footsteps light on the ground despite the speed. She came to the fence and saw a man holding a gun at a battered and bleeding Tenma. And he had that look, the look every assassin, soldier, or combatant knew. A Cheshire grin spread on his lips, he was about to fire again- point blank range. She ran harder, but still she knew she wouldn’t reach him in time. Murderous bastard. He aimed lower, and with something like a battle roar Sin threw another blade.
Time seemed to slow.
The sound had distracted him long enough for the blade to have went through the opening in the chain link fence and into the back of his hand as he fired the shot. Instead of having blown off Tenma’s more manlier parts, he’d sent a hollow-point into his inner thigh. Again, free running using the broken crates she cleared the fence and aimed to land on the guy. He still dodged, but that didn’t stop her in the slightest, not even when he switched gun hands and aimed again. She dropped her gun in her haste, but she again redirected his arm as he fired off another round. HE dropped his gun, and it was hand to hand from there. Obviously this guy had more experience, maybe ex-army. And it would also explain his crazed air, or his lack of fear. Maybe PTSD? Either way he still knew how to fight. She took a few hard punches before scoring a takedown and wrestling her way for a reverse Guillotine, thinking she’d won she relaxed her sore legs. With a roar he stood up, lifting her clear off the ground as he began a series of precise punches. Each harder and more painful than the last and she fell back on her ass, nearly winded from the ordeal. She rolled from a kick-stomp and attempted to kick his legs out from under him but he merely fell on top of her, using his weight to crush her. She hooked her feet around his thighs and arched her back, rolling them but he kept the momentum. Another couple rolls and she’d gained top, but she moved herself now so he was with his back to her and she locked in a solid rear-naked choke. Maintaining position was unimportant now, as long as she held onto that sleeper hold. He rolled them so he could sit, but she fixed him in an anaconda body lock. Not ten seconds before he was out of it, but still she held on. Another 20 and he was either comatose or dead. She relaxed, pushing him off of her she stood, hiding a wince as she retrieved her knife and gun and sheathing them both.
“Dare’s gonna owe me big time for this.”[/b] She muttered with a half grin, once again dusting herself off as she walked over to Tenma. She crouched beside him, inspecting the gunshot wounds. “Quite the mess… who knew, humans..” She muttered more to herself than to Tenma, disgust and superiority lacing her words. She tore at the bottom of her black tank top, shredding it into two and leaving a good portion of the flat abdomen and hip revealed. She tied the shreds above the wound in his thigh as a tourniquet, but couldn’t for the chest wound. She tore off another piece and balled it to best cover and absorb the bleeding. “Here, pressure for the bleeding as I’m sure you’re familiar with.” She said that with the barest hint of a smile. "Roscoe called it in, and it seems I had to go Commando on their asses."[/b] She said with a half smile and a sadistic glint in her gaze. Yeah, Commando sure-as-hell got rid of "the itch". "Regrouping at the bar of course, all of ours are taken care of. The boy however,,," She shrugged as she contined to work and keep aware of her surroundings. She was still in battle-mode, so she briefed Tenma in like she would on any mission she was on. But of course Sin was Sin and the dark humor and seductively sadistic persona of hers managed to stay with her.
“C’mon, I have a bike not far from here, can you get up and walk? "[/b] She glanced behind her, watchful for any more surprises. She stood and offered out her hands to help him up and then lean on her to walk the 100 yards or so to where her Honda was waiting. Was it strange of her to note the humor in meeting her brother’s best friend in such a situation for the first time?[/font][/size][/color]
A smirk played on her lips, deep dual toned blue eyes glinting darkly in anticipation. Well well well, looks like the months of waiting had finally paid off. Roscoe sent out a 911 basically, and an address. A warehouse if she remembered correctly. In a fluid motion she’d risen from her seat, holstered her handguns and knives and pulled her jacket off the chair, slipping it on snugly as she strode out of the Assassin HQ bar to mount her bike. A black Honda CBR600RR with blue flames on both sides with one having the flames form into the shape of a side profile of a lunging tiger. And like nearly all of Sin’s play toys, it was decked out to maximum performance. The helmet was back in Dare’s room, but not wanting to waste time she just revved the powerful engine, pulled the kickstand back and leaned forward as the bike roared to life as it tore down the street. She was a damn reckless driver, and the hot surge of adrenaline and energy was simply intoxicating. She made it to the downtown district in hardly no time at all and circled around back. She slowed, taking in the surroundings and doing the usual scoping out before she went in there and get herself shot. Gunshots were present, and glass breaking, shouting, heavy running footsteps. She parked the bike and set out on foot. Her gait was that of a predator, and she just had that raw, lethal air about her. She used her free-running skills to jump the fence and then she went inside the warehouse. Right when she was going to open the back door two goons came bursting out. Quicker than they could follow she’d jabbed the first guy in his adams apple hard enough to double him over trying to catch his breath and then she lunged at the second guy. She forced him against the wall, but even her impressive strength wasn’t enough to hold him. They switched positions and she kneed him in the gut, jabbing him in the liver and when he doubled over she snapped his neck. The body dropped and the click of a gun signaled her the other man was in the game again. She hit the floor and dove to the side as a bullet hit the falling man. She pivoted and slammed into the guy, letting the building pressure and stress leak out into this scuffle. And it felt good to do so. When she was satisfied, she finished it with a right hook to the temple that had him unconscious. She stood up, not even bothered by the busted lip or where the guys own punches had hit her. Funny what adrenaline could do in a fight. She pulled out her knife and proceeded to roam the warehouse, clearing it and going room by room on the ground floor. It wasn’t long until she met with another group, three this time. She had the element of surprise, so pulling out a second blade she threw them. The first hit the closest guy in the side of his neck while the second hit the guy beside him and imbedded itself in his eye to the hilt. She didn’t even flinch at their screams. They fired off wild rounds, none of which hit her. The third guy had indeed pissed himself, but she didn’t think it was from her. Even though he seemed crazed, she knew he was just as dangerous. She tapped her boot tips together and 4 inch blades snapped out. She roundhouse kicked at him but he ducked and tackled into her. She hit the floor with a grunt, and shielded her face from his grounding and pounding, wrapping her legs around him to prevent him from cocking back. She bucked, sending him off balance and then snapped a few of her own well aimed punches, rolling him to his back and with her on top and past his guard, she cranked his neck hard at the angle he’d had it until it cracked. She kicked the guns from the first two guys away lest they decide to be hero’s for their final stand.
She rounded a corner and saw yet another set of goons- but these men were unarmed and crippled enough, their will to fight gone along with any sense of ego and pride. But either way, she didn’t give them time to make up their minds. 3 silenced shots, 3 heavy thuds, 3 more pools of blood. 2 more men came from the stairs, and she repeated the dull process before they could even begin their retaliation. Scenting the familiar taint of sulfur and gunpowder by a stack of crates, she stalked her way over. She peeked in and sure enough, ammo and more firearms were neatly packed in the large boxes. Perfect. She undid her belt buckle, sliding the pale belt from the loops around her black leather pants and laid it amidst the pile of crates. Now this wasn’t any ordinary belt; it was Primacord. Military grade explosive, yada yada, anyways it was cool and she usually carried it around waiting for its purpose to surface. The detonating switch was in a pocket in her leather jacket. A gravelly groan now caught her attention, head rotating towards the sound.
And now she found Kyrian. Now this made her hesitate before she went in the room. Giving a half glance back to make sure the room was clear she jostled him awake. All he moaned was ‘Tabris and Tenma gone’, ‘Mad Dog’ ‘Chex’ and ‘lemme fuckin sleep’ With a growl she left him alone, such a help he was. A window crashed, and she heard gunfire again. She ran off, bending to retrieve her knives in stride. Even in her rush she still wasn’t oblivious to her surroundings. She registered scuffles in the dirt on the floor, dried blood, and most of the details of the rooms. Another guy, bloodied and surely hurt. But again, it was the wounded that were the most dangerous because of their unpredictability. And he did have a gun. Little did she know it was unloaded, but ah well. Intent. He cried out in surprise and then made to pistol whip her. Honed reflexes allowed her to duck without harm and when she came upright again she gripped his outstretched arm and jerked, hyperextending the elbow as she rammed her shoulder into the joint, effectively breaking the elbow with a crunch worth grinning over. Gawd this was so much fun. But she knew later she’d have to make up for it. She made to go out the fire escape, since she’d pretty much cleared the inside, or at least everyone in her way, but directly under a younger male, and nervous as all get out, was trying to reload his gun again. She breathed a heh, deft hands pulling out another throwing knife which she propelled down, and this one buried itself at the top of the guy’s skull. Before he hit the ground she leapt over the railing, and landed on the guy’s shoulders as he fell to his knees. HE bent back as she used her new momentum and angle to jump forward to land in a crouch. She rose slowly, body tense but with the graceful edge of the predator she was as she reached her full height of 5’11, another inch or so added because of her boots. Maybe another set of guys around, but far enough away so she wouldn’t have to deal with them. She retrieved her knife, and usually to wipe it she’d lick it, but these weren’t shifters, and their filthy human blood wouldn’t feel, or rather taste, right.
Another goon, carrying a crate and accompanied by a woman and an older man, were hurrying towards a truck on the other side of the fence. If only she had hackles, they’d be raised. She froze, crouched even as nature whispered to do so. But as fate would have it, the woman turned around and caught the sight of the dark clothed woman with the body behind her out in the open- and screamed. The man dropped the crate and used it as cover as he forcefully yanked the woman down and the older man, late 40’s maybe. Sin paused, head cocking to the side even as curiosity overtook her. Harsh whispers, growls, hrms…interesting indeed. She carefully slipped out her silenced Beretta. Leisurely, she made her way over to them, a strut in her step that was very feline indeed. She was 10 feet away, and then two barrels sprung up from behind the crate and fired, also silenced. She cursed, doing a duck-and-roll to the side, escaping the gunfire with only a couple grazes which only served to anger her. “Fuck yall asswipes, this was my favorite jacket.” The older man leaned over to fire at her new position, but a well placed round stopped him as his face exploded, making the woman shriek again. She did the same maneuver, mentally cursing them while snarling on the outside. This was bad, er well the worst position she’d been in yet. Already her dark sapphire gaze slitted, canines elongating and nails darkening and curling with the urge to shift. In constant motion to avoid the hail of gunfire, she sprang up and sprinted towards them, her full auto Beretta emptying its clip into the crate to penetrate those trying to take shelter behind it. The woman she’d gotten quite a few times in the abdomen, and the guy in the shoulder and arm. She dove at the woman, this was a mercy killing. Sin was on top, one arm behind her head and the other skillfully gripping her jaw as she broke the woman’s neck. The guy started to kick her, and she took a few blows to her side and head before rolling off the woman and clicking her boots together so the hidden blade would pop out. He was suddenly looming over her prone figure, switchblade in hand as he madly slashed. She managed to sit up and catch him by the wrist, taking a slice down the top of her forearm, and she tugged him down and off balance so he’d fall into her death trap. She formed an awkward triangle choke with his face in the dirt and against her thigh. After struggling his damn best, he bit her, and she responded with an ouch and a pistol whip on the back of his head as she squeezed harder. She ground him into the dirt harder, and soon enough he suffocated. Well at least she hoped so because then another goon, a short hairy guy late 20’s and tatto’d as if his life depended on it, aimed a powerful kick to the back of her head. Her vision darkened and her hearing a bit fuzzy, and she might’ve muttered another curse. She curled into a ball and rolled to the side, so instead of getting hit in the same spot she caught he force of the blow on her shoulder. She pivoted in the dirt and roundhouse kicked him in the temple, pulling back and curling her lip as the blood spurted form his temple and onto her pants. She kicked him again, sending the blade into his thigh, hip and calve before getting back to her feet before he could fall on her.
A bit unsteady on her feet at first, but she dusted herself off and loped along the fence-line again. More crates, and another gunshot. Damn these humans would sure pose a problem. Following the gunshot- a roar. Her body locked, frozen as thoughts spun and realization erupted in her mind. She was naturally protective, and dominant…((among other things we wont get into now)) but to have some….human, hurt one of her fellow assassins…
“Ah, Hell. No.”
She ran again, footsteps light on the ground despite the speed. She came to the fence and saw a man holding a gun at a battered and bleeding Tenma. And he had that look, the look every assassin, soldier, or combatant knew. A Cheshire grin spread on his lips, he was about to fire again- point blank range. She ran harder, but still she knew she wouldn’t reach him in time. Murderous bastard. He aimed lower, and with something like a battle roar Sin threw another blade.
Time seemed to slow.
The sound had distracted him long enough for the blade to have went through the opening in the chain link fence and into the back of his hand as he fired the shot. Instead of having blown off Tenma’s more manlier parts, he’d sent a hollow-point into his inner thigh. Again, free running using the broken crates she cleared the fence and aimed to land on the guy. He still dodged, but that didn’t stop her in the slightest, not even when he switched gun hands and aimed again. She dropped her gun in her haste, but she again redirected his arm as he fired off another round. HE dropped his gun, and it was hand to hand from there. Obviously this guy had more experience, maybe ex-army. And it would also explain his crazed air, or his lack of fear. Maybe PTSD? Either way he still knew how to fight. She took a few hard punches before scoring a takedown and wrestling her way for a reverse Guillotine, thinking she’d won she relaxed her sore legs. With a roar he stood up, lifting her clear off the ground as he began a series of precise punches. Each harder and more painful than the last and she fell back on her ass, nearly winded from the ordeal. She rolled from a kick-stomp and attempted to kick his legs out from under him but he merely fell on top of her, using his weight to crush her. She hooked her feet around his thighs and arched her back, rolling them but he kept the momentum. Another couple rolls and she’d gained top, but she moved herself now so he was with his back to her and she locked in a solid rear-naked choke. Maintaining position was unimportant now, as long as she held onto that sleeper hold. He rolled them so he could sit, but she fixed him in an anaconda body lock. Not ten seconds before he was out of it, but still she held on. Another 20 and he was either comatose or dead. She relaxed, pushing him off of her she stood, hiding a wince as she retrieved her knife and gun and sheathing them both.
“Dare’s gonna owe me big time for this.”[/b] She muttered with a half grin, once again dusting herself off as she walked over to Tenma. She crouched beside him, inspecting the gunshot wounds. “Quite the mess… who knew, humans..” She muttered more to herself than to Tenma, disgust and superiority lacing her words. She tore at the bottom of her black tank top, shredding it into two and leaving a good portion of the flat abdomen and hip revealed. She tied the shreds above the wound in his thigh as a tourniquet, but couldn’t for the chest wound. She tore off another piece and balled it to best cover and absorb the bleeding. “Here, pressure for the bleeding as I’m sure you’re familiar with.” She said that with the barest hint of a smile. "Roscoe called it in, and it seems I had to go Commando on their asses."[/b] She said with a half smile and a sadistic glint in her gaze. Yeah, Commando sure-as-hell got rid of "the itch". "Regrouping at the bar of course, all of ours are taken care of. The boy however,,," She shrugged as she contined to work and keep aware of her surroundings. She was still in battle-mode, so she briefed Tenma in like she would on any mission she was on. But of course Sin was Sin and the dark humor and seductively sadistic persona of hers managed to stay with her.
“C’mon, I have a bike not far from here, can you get up and walk? "[/b] She glanced behind her, watchful for any more surprises. She stood and offered out her hands to help him up and then lean on her to walk the 100 yards or so to where her Honda was waiting. Was it strange of her to note the humor in meeting her brother’s best friend in such a situation for the first time?[/font][/size][/color]
