#harleysforharlots

"Microwaves?" She points out. "And like I said, should not be to hard. I can put a bike together, how hard can it be to cook?"

"Yeah. The pisher that keeps sniffing around, he brings stuff. Ghost, she can make some stuff, she said." He is thinking, eyes narrowed* "Freeze some of it, I guess, microwave stuff, soups, should be okay." He shrugs, and nods* "Anyhow, just wanted to keep you, you know, updated."

She gives a nod. "We'll figure it out bub. Don't let it bother ya to much. I could build a toaster, think that will help?"

"She has a toaster. What, going to make one that brings breakfast to her in bed, too?" *A quick grin, pushing up from the worktable and uncrossing his boots "Anyhow, got some groceries in my pack, better get the stuff to her place. Cans and stuff, mostly. Jimmy been giving you any trouble?"

"Na, Jimmy seems cool for a dead guy. Sort of creepy to think on to much though." She moves with him as he moves. "I might drop by a bit later. Got a few things for the old fart."

"I'll let her know. Might want to let me know, too, I kind of get jumpy, you know, strangers." *His dark eyes flick to her "Intruders. So best to call first, you know? Safer."

She nods. "Sure bub. I'll text or something. That cool?"

"Yeah, that works." A quick grin, pulling his gloves out of his pocket to pull on, and lifting chin* "Don't work too late, you hear?"

"I won't. I just gotta finish up a few notes. I'll be around in a few hours."

"Okay." He lifts chin again -- some sluagh bow, this seems to be his version -- and then heads back out to the bike and pack, the helmet in the parking lot*

She watches as he goes, closing the door only one he is safely on his bike and getting it started.

***Endscene***