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Ford sighed as he looked at the clock, stuffing the remains of his lunch into his bag and heading for the fridge at the back of the shop. Kneeling down, he placed the meal in the fridge and stood up. Break was over. Back to work. Truth be told, though, he wasn't as thrilled about it as usual. True, he was doing what he loved, but lately, he's been realizing that he's not doing things his way. The idea of opening his own garage creeped back into his head… he wanted to find a good project for him and Julie to work on, to find out at least if they could work well together.
"Allen! What's the next hunk?" he called out to his apprentice, looking around and listening… with no response. Great… where did that boy get off to? Could be he took a little longer to go home and check on his family. Poor kid… Ford knew how bad it was to have a sick parent. It was why he took Allen under his wing in the first place. Ford could hold down the garage by his lonesome - he always did, after all. He walked to the work bench and read through the schedule of cars… shockingly little, as of late. He could feasibly get away with a bit of goofing off… not that he would, but with how little he had to work with lately, he could and get away with it.
Had he finally done it? Had he managed to keep every car in East Village running?! "…probably. I am pretty damn good." he mused to himself, chuckling.
*
Lois didn't exactly have an appointment for her car, and it wasn't exactly making any issues or odd sounds right now, but she keeps up her baby way better than her own body, career, or apartment. It was her baby. So, having learned that the man she was trying to track down for an interview about the mutant mess was ALSO a mechanic, she just figured two birds and one stone. The baby blue Caddy drives up to the garage where Ford is renting/working right now, top up for the moment (it's too damn cold to show the car off properly. Things not too busy, she just pulls right into the bay before rolling the window down.
The woman looks over top the plastic frames of her tinted sunglasses, staring in the handsome man's direction as she sucks on some sort of lollipop. "…You got room for an inspection today, if I ask real sweet, or do I need an appointment?" Her voice has the husky rasp of someone who's done way too much weed in their time, but the rest of her is about as delicious looking, and ridiculous, as the lollipop she's enjoying. And trouble. The faint scent of weed from the car's interior, and the look in her ice blue eyes, it's also trouble.
*
Ford blinked as the car pulled in. Was Allen back? …no, he didn't drive. Canting his head to one side as the window rolled down, Ford leaned down and smirked, trying to resist the urge to make any sort of terrible joke on his part. She was a looker… but the smell could do with some improving. Wait… was that… weed? His smirk slowly faded as he stood up, folding his arms.
"Nope, you're in twice the luck. We've got an open slot… and if you've got something… shall we say, illegal in that car, you can use the incinerator out back to get rid of it." Ford said, turning around to pencil in appointment, Ford looked back and took a moment to admire the car. She was a beauty… as was the driver. But the notion it was being tainted with drugs made him shake his head. "Actually, make it triple the luck. Name's Ford. Best mechanic in East Village, if not all of New York. What's yours?"
*
"Illegal? Man…ain't nothin' illegal in this car… Just some cigarettes, yanno… the herbal shit. Better for your lungs." Lois dead pans that lie like she's told it a thousand times. Or, more likely, she just doesn't see *weed* as something that is illegal. Or should be. She might be the sort of woman who makes her own law. She nods in approval to the comment about him taking her, and pulls the rest of the way into the bay before killing the purr of the engine. The car ran nicely to the ear, at least it seems she maintains it better than the rest of her life.
Smooth as silk and rather languid, like some long, lazy cat, Lois opens the long door and spills out into the bay. Her stomach is bared by the tied off, Hawaiian style shirt she wears and she's entirely not dressed for the season, nor does she seem to care. "Ford? You named for a car or did you take some sort of f*ckin' stage name when you became the best mechanic around? And I'm Lois Lane. Best reporter this side of the Mississippi." She offers her hand confidently in his direction.
*
"Uh huh… so long as you aren't driving while smoking your 'herbal cigarettes' in my neighborhood." Ford replied, quirking a brow as he grabbed his tool belt and listened to the engine. "…sounds like it's running fine. But, we'll have a look under the hood. Make sure it's running as smooth as it's sounding." He nodded at her introduction. "Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Lane."
'Wouldn't mind cruisin' on that Lane…' he thought, keeping his eyes off her stomach as he chuckled at her question. "I was born in the back of one, if my mom is to be believed… and I'm sure she is. Best bed she's ever laid in, so she figured, why not name the best kid ever after it?" Is… is he being serious? "So, what brings you in today, Ms. Lane? Can't be an excuse to see my shining face, can it?"
*
"…Well, actually…" If his ego puts most people off, it certainly doesn't Lois Lane. Probably because her ego is just about big enough to match it and she can respect a man with confidence. She casually leans a slender hip against the outside of the car, letting him poke over her engine as he pleases, but she really does take good care of the car. Probably due for an oil change in a few hundred miles, but everything else looks almost new. She digs one hand into her pocket, words having trailed off until she grabs free a pack of Lucky Strikes and pulls one out with her teeth. Her zippo strikes a moment later and she gets the cherry going.
"…Yes. I mean, if I can get a capable mechanic for Blue Angel here, I'll take it… and you seem capable enough. But… I heard you intervened on some mutant druggie bullshit the other night and…well, I'm curious to get a first hand story. If you're willing to tell it. Exclusive interview. Get your name all over the papers. Be a hero. It'll get you some good tail, if nothing else?"
*
Ford felt a bit off his game. Most women faltered at his confidence… well, except for that Diana girl. She REALLY tossed him for a loop giving him actual praise at his work. Giving the hood a lift, Ford tried to occupy his mind with having a look at the engine. And then the brakes. And the fluid levels. "Honestly, I can't see you needing much of my help. You already seem to keep her in good shape! …color me impressed~"
And then she got to the real reason. He folded his arms, tilting his head to one side. "Oh boy… that…" he chuckled at her incentives, shaking his head. "So long as you don't actually call me a hero. I detest that term. But, yeah, if you're wanting to know what happened with the Trash, I can tell ya. Ask away… wouldn't mind seeing my name in print."
*
A husky, warm sort of laugh escapes her glossy lips as she shifts her body more in his direction, half draped across her car. She really was cat like, languid and boneless in the most graceful, lanky sort of way. She takes a deeper drag of her cigarette, "Mm… don't call you a hero. Check. I think I can manage that. And I'd still prefer an expert to have his fingers all over my baby. So… it wasn't just an excuse to meet you. Call this a two fold trip." Lois admits, wry smile lingering on her full mouth.
"Alright…story. Well… give it to me. What happened? How'd you hear about it? Why'd you intervene? How'd you actually manage to take'em all in? I want the whoooole book. I'm a patient woman and I take good notes, so… Talk to me." Lois shifts enough to rest her lower back on the door of her car, after she drags her notepad out of her back pocket. SHe balances her cigarette between her lips so she can write short hand while he talks.
*
Ford smirked, closing the hood as he eyed her leaning on the car. "Not surprised. I find a lot of ladies enjoy the work my fingers can do~" he said, unhitching the belt and hanging it back up. "Let's see… well, started about… I wanna say 5 weeks back. Got wind that one of the local kids had been caught with some crystals in his room. I helped his mom with some car work a while back, so she gave me a call hoping I could talk some sense into him." He smirked. "Most of the parents around here know me… I often end up being the one to fix the cars their kids scratch or bend while learning to drive. That's to say nothing of the ones in Mutant Town. Can't tell you how many moms have brought in a car one of their kids broke discovering they have powers."
"Anyways… I come over, find out the kid's had those crystals pushed on him by a new dealer in the neighborhood. A 'free sample'… something to get 'em hooked for more, you know." His mouth twists into a sour frown as he mentions that, before sighing and continuing. "I went and had a little chat with this new dealer. Told him if he ever comes peddling his wares in East Village ever again, I'll make sure there won't be enough of him left for the cops to put back together… I didn't mean it, but he didn't know that."
He paused, sighing again. "…I don't like drugs in my neighborhood. I'll tolerate drinking… but not drugs. It's… a personal preference. No driving impaired in any way. I put a stop to it right then and there if I find it. Sometimes, you have to put your foot down and do what's best for others… even if they don't like you for it."
*
The woman's dark brows arch quietly as he comments about the work his fingers can do, "Mm… talented hands, hmm? Well, any time you want to work on my engine…" The way Lois practically *rolls* over the side of her car, onto the hood, so she's leaning over it and giving him a very nice view down the front of her shirt, or of her behind, if he'd walk around that way, it's got to be purposeful. And her smile is all flirtatious. She's not talking about cars. Still, she continues to write, now using her car's hood as a desk to support the note pad.
"Mm… Nice of you to take care of the neighborhood kids. Sure you're not a hero? Certainly sounds like a hero thing to do…" Lois is only half teasing him there, but she's taking down a few more notes. "…little chat with this new dealer. That's downplaying things. Come on, Ford… Ford, gotta give me the MEAT of the story here. The GOOD stuff. Make it dramatic."
*
Ford's eyes half-lidded as he got distracted by the car posing. She… really knew how to work the car, didn't she? "Don't tempt me… I turn on your ignition and I can guarantee you won't be idling for long~" Lois wasn't talking cars, and Ford seemed perfectly content to play along. "I never knew my dad growing up. He was out of my life before it began… so I aim to be a good dad when I find the right gal. I just consider them… practice." There's more he's not sharing… but he doesn't seem willing to bring it up yet.
"Trust me, it gets worse. Turns out, the dealer was working for a group called the Trash, who in turn had ties to the Gnucci mob family. I've crossed paths with them before, but only in the sense of showing up their boys in racing." Ford smirked a bit at that. Seemed proud of his accomplishment. "Anyways, the Trash were trying to expand their drug operation to East Village. They didn't like me kicking them out. So they send a few of their mutant members to my shop here to send a message: stay out of their business. So it's one of me vs. five of them… well, not exactly just me. I had a bit of help."
*
A deeper, almost purring like sound escapes her throat at his comment about her ignition. Half moan, half come-hither sound, "Mm… I will tempt you. I came here to find an expert. If you're an expert, well, I'll just have to try you out some time…" She winks over the rim of her glasses, utterly shameless, before taking another long drag of her cigarette which has replaced the lollipop now. Oral fixation much? Maybe just a bit.
But then he's going on, talking about the Trash and the various mutants. The woman arches a brow, listening quietly and balancing her cigarette again so she has a free hand to write. She remains half posed against the car's hood, shoulders back and spine arched so she gives herself plenty of room to comfortably write as she smokes and listens. "…Had some help? Which help/ And… they are mutants. You are… a mechanic… even with help, how did you manage it?"
*
Ford had to remind himself not to get frisky with the clients. Talk is all good, but touching? Not until the clock lets him go. Still… no harm in keeping up the act. A challenge in itself: Ms. Lane left little to the imagine thanks to her skills with that lollipop. "Satisfaction guaranteed. I never leave a lady wanting… though they usually come back for quality assurance~" Rocking himself on the spot, he smirked, unfolding his arms as she asked him about the brawl. "Because I am a damn good mechanic." He walked over to a collection of seeming junk, pulling out a bent fender and picking it up with one hand, his fingers applying super strength to the dented chrome as he pushed it back into shape. "Super strength, super speed, enhanced durability… though I've always had that last one~" Holding the hunk of metal up, he smirked, showing off the repaired piece with one hand. "You would not believe how much on cost you save having super powers. No need for a crane, or other extraneous things. You can keep up the pace for hours. Brings in plenty of work."
*
As he discusses not leaving a lady wanting, Lois somehow sliiiiides across the top of her car in his direction. She's just suddenly closer, laying stomach-down on the hood of her car, propped up by her elbows, half looking like a calendar pin up half looking some some ridiculous warning from the war about loose women. She takes another drag of her cigarette, "Well, I always make routine visits to a talented … Mechanic. Need to keep the engine running smooth. No cobwebs, you know." She murmurs throatily, a dangerous smile tugging across her lips.
Then he actually surprises her. Not much does, but THAT does. Super strength and speed? Lois double takes at the motions, glad she's not balancing her cigarette as her jaw actually hangs open a moment. Her cigarette is safely in her fingertips. "…Well… Damn." She mutters, trying to process this all for a moment. She sticks the filter back between her lips and begins quickly writing, but then she pauses, "Uh… you…mind that goin' in the papers? I'm a reporter but I ain't an asshole. I don't wanna blow your cover or something, even if you ain't a hero."
*
Ford smirked, canting his head to one side. She was dangerous… the femme fatale type if there ever was one. The kind that you get into trouble for and mom warns you about. But dammit if he didn't like those kind of ladies most of all. A challenge, as he'd call it. "You'll see plenty of tune ups if you visit me. I am very thorough with my work. S'what makes it… fun~
As he set the fender down, he nodded, folding his arms again. "Yeah. It's not exactly secret around here. I just tend not to advertise it. I've benched around 10 tons and clocked in at… I suspect 80 miles an hour. But that's nowhere near my peak. I can get far stronger and faster… matter of fact, I may not even have an upper limit. All depends on my mood." Ford paused, shaking his head. "And before you ask, nope. It's not mutant powers. I've only had 'em for… 8 months now? Well past the date most mutants learn they've got powers… and neither of my parents were mutants. So… pretty sure I'm just f**king amazing." He chuckled a bit before continuing. "Anyways, with a bit of help, I stuffed the quintet of the mutants sent to teach me a lesson into a dumpster and hauled them to the cops… even though I knew that wasn't the last of 'em by a long shot."
*
While the mutant arrests were interesting, the commentary about his powers is FAR more intriguing to Lois Lane. Her eyes narrow, head tilting curiously, the flirtation even forgotten for a second. She's a reporter on the edge of an above the fold article. "…Only for 8 months? What happened 8 months ago? I mean…yes. It's clear you are damned amazing. The talented part, well…We'll have to wait and see. I'm a demanding woman. I need proof. But I'm curious what happened 8 months ago?" She rolls over languidly, laying on her back now, note pad hovering in the air as she writes upside down, her messy dark hair splayed over the edge of the car's hood. She's still smoking out of the corner of her mouth. "…You think these mutants were the real thing, or just low level schmucks? What kind of powers did they have? Anyone you wanna credit in helping you?"
*
"Truth be told? I'm not completely sure." Ford replied, tilting his head to one side and closing his eyes. "Let's see… it was during a street race. Yeah, it's kind of illegal… then again, so are your… cigarettes, yeah?" Ford replied, smirking a bit and arching a brow to match that curve in her back. "But… I made an amateur mistake, took a turn too hard, got thrown from the wreck and landed just fine. Seems the guy behind me had the same idea. Next thing I know, he's crashing into me sideways. But, instead of being turned into a pancake… it wrapped around me like a scarf of bent metal. Pulled myself and the driver free of the wreck, and… well, had it ever since… though, I might have broken his arm. Not entirely sure."
Ford held up his hand, looking it over a moment before clenching it. "Since then… I've been getting used to this strength and speed. You would not believe how disorienting it is. 25 years, you've spent learning how to control your moves precisely. Then one day, you wake up and can take a jog around the city in 15 minutes and bench a dump truck without breaking a sweat. It's… like my whole world has been turned into cardboard. I have to take constant care not to lose control, or else I could break something… break someone…" He cast a devilish sideways glance at her and smirked. "And believe me… there are times when my control has been put to the test~"
[12:24:50]
As the woman listens to his story, her skepticism, and interest, just grows. She tries to look at him upside down, but that's awkward with her shades because she can't look over the top when upside down, so she rolls back over to her stomach, those delightful purple glasses now perched on the very end of her petite nose, so baked blue eyes are fully staring at him over plastic rims. "You're just telling me you woke up one day and could survive bein' hit by a car. I call bullshit. Did you… jump in some radioactive puddle before hand? Maybe subject yourself to medical experimentation for money? Use those magic fingers on some lady at SHIELD? Come on… there ain't NOTHING in your brain that coulda started it, Mr. Not-A-Hero?" Lois is grinning, eyes glimmering with excitement and interest. "…and you do realize I might have to do some up close and personal…Testing. For journalistic integrity."
*
"That's exactly what I'm saying." Ford replied, shifting his weight to one side and smiling. "Trust me, unless I made out with some alien chick who looked like a human and gave me super powers because of it, it has to be… something in my brain. And I suspect it is." Ford placed his hands on the hood and leaned forward, closing the gap between them. "See, one thing I do know about my powers is that it fluctuates with my confidence. The better I feel, the stronger, faster, and harder I become." …was that last one an innuendo? Because that would be weird. "That's why I say, far as I know, I have no upper limit. So… yeah, far as I know, my ego just finally coalesced into super powers, since that's what fuels them." He leaned in a bit closer. "And as for the testing… I certainly hope you're built of stern stuff. Because I am the most energetic Ford you'll ever ride~"
*
A deep laugh escapes her throat, both happy and amused, something velveteen about the sound from her husky voice, "…Alien chick. You know, I write for both the Bugle and the Bulletin. Depending on which paper you want in, depends if I report this as alien chick power activation or super ego powers… Though, super ego sounds pretty damn Bugle too." Lois admits, not moving even an inch away from him as he slides forward onto her car and makes that suggestion. She's still writing, watching him half over her shoulder, as she finishes taking the notes. But, finally, she puts the period on the end of it and then just calls his bluff. Suddenly Lois Lane's lips are on his and Ford, the Ego, may have actually met another ego big enough to challenge his.
*
Ford smirked, arching his brow. "Alien chick gave me powers. Sounds more believable, don't you think? Super science and all th-" Ford blinked as Lois turned and actually kissed him. For a split second, his hand moved up to her shoulder to pull her in harder, but he forced himself to remember that he was taken (for now, at least). Pushing her before, he caught his breath and smirked, shaking his head. "Hey, now… you can look, but not touching. Yet." Ford wagged a finger back at Lois. "Got a friend who'd hate to see me actually doing anything on the sly. She gets jealous pretty easy…"
*
Lois is warm, lush, and everything dangerous women always are — just what you want them to be. But, somehow, Ford finds that discipline and he pulls back from the grinning proto-hippie. She just gives a little moan and a pout to make the ages tremble, head tilting to the side, resting on her more-pretty-than-she-is car. "You should know not to flirt like that if you can't follow it up. Gonna make a girl think you're all bark and no bite. No… Better yet, all rev, no actual horsepower. But, then, I've found most men in the world are like that… So, no surprise." And just as easily, she's folding up into sitting, her note pad reclaimed in one hand, cigarette in the other. "…So, you dumpster all these mutants with help of people you are not naming, drop them off with the fuzz. What next?"
*
Ford smirked, shaking his head and leaning back. "What can I say? I have a charm for the ladies… hard not to chase what I can't have. Even if I want it bad…" Straightening up, Ford folded his arms, shifting his weight again. "Let's see… following that, I opted to track down the gang's head and cut off the trouble at the source - their leader, the Garbage Man, fittingly enough. I show up to his drug warehouse in Hell's Kitchen, kick the shutters off and step inside… only to be belted back across the street by the Garbage Man. Turns out, he's got an apt name. He comes crawling out of the warehouse in a 5 story… thing made of junk, old cars, everything. And, as it turned out, I wasn't the only one tracking him. A team from the NYPD showed up lead by Officer Gordon." He shrugged, shaking his head. "I met him about a week and a half before when a few corrupt officers were using him for batting practice. I guess he was looking to repay the favor. Not sure why he and his men were there… just complicated things."
*
The woman is pouting, but it doesn't last long. Work comes first anyway, and at least she's getting back to the job now. She is now just holding onto the filter of a dead cigarette, letting it balance out of the corner of her mouth as she writes down almost everything he says as quickly as he says it. Her short hand is instinctive, expert, and completely unintelligable to probably anyone but her. Practically a coded language! Good for an exclusive reporter. "Alright… what happened then? Why did it complicate things? I mean, not that the fuzz *doesn't* always complicate things." She smirks deeper.
*
Ford leaned on the car, shaking his head… and trying to figure out what in God's name she was writing! How does she read that?! "Well, for one, I don't like working with the cops. You know, the whole 'history of street racing' thing… and, it turns out, my friend is here in a… less than approved manner." Ah, so he was dating an illegal immigrant! He's just as much trouble as Lois! "Second, now I have a group of unpowered folks around to keep from being squashed while trying to deal with that freakazoid." Ford sighed, shaking his head again. "I know they have a job to do… but I wasn't expecting anyone else to show up."
"Then again, I'm guessing they brought some super powered back up. Next thing I know, the Garbage Man is getting compacted within his own creation… and I'm pretty sure I haven't developed telekinetic crushing powers yet." Ford contemplated that a bit. He.. didn't, did he? "In any case, the Garbage Man gets free with some smaller construct, but he lost his balance. I managed to leap on top, knocked his lights out, and left him for the coppers to book, and the drugs to clean up. Not sure what became of all the junk, though… I was in a slight rush to get out of there."
*
"…Why were you in a rush to get outta there? Worried the coppers were gonna pick you up yourself?" Lois inquires casually, though she makes a mental note about him harboring someone less than legal, she doesn't push that question. Lois is a reporter, not an ass hole looking to get anyone in trouble. She makes a few other notes, biting at her lower lip as she considers the spin on this story. A totally subconscious habit, but it probably is a clear indication that she's pretty deep into thought. She's still sprawled on her car like it was some sort of bed. She has the mannerisms of a woman who lays out to tan on this car in the summer, probably.
*
"I don't like sticking around. You stick around, people start to think you're a hero making sure everything is alright in the aftermath." Ford replied, shaking his head. "Like I said, I'm not. Plus, who knows who else was there. Scoping out the scene. Bad guy or good. Next thing you know, I could be getting a letter from SHIELD or the government saying 'Hey, would you like to join our super team?' To which the answer is going to be, no. I keep things safe in my corner of the city. Let everyone else worry about theirs." Ford watched her as she wrote, quietly cursing his inability to pounce her. Ah, the troubles of being a committed man. Even so, he aimed to be a bigger man than that.
"But… that's all there is to it. Not much to me. I'm simple, honestly. I eat, drink, work, chase skirts just like every other guy. The powers don't matter much, save for how much punishment I can take." He leaned on the car again, tilting his head. "Now… I've told you my story… you care to share yours?"
*
The woman watches him a few more moments, expression a bit more skeptical, like she feels like she's missing something, but she doesn't push it for the moment. She had plenty of story here, with the proper spin on it, of course. So, she finishes a few more notes and then folds the notebook shut, shoving it back into her back pocket and shifting out her crumpled pack of Lucky Strikes again so she can light up while they are talking. She still seems pretty skeptical, and it only deepens when he asks about her story.
"…Uh…me? I ain't… You ain't a reporter. I'm no one of any consequence. Why the hell do you wanna hear my story? This wasn't a tit for tat thing, yanno. I'll pay you for the inspection and I'm legit about bringing the car back when shit goes wrong. A good mechanic, even if he's a f*ckin' awful tease, isn't a bad thing at all." Lois really seems a bit awkward at being asked her story. That's not something that happens almost ever.
*
Ford smiled and shook his head. "Just being polite. As much as I love the spotlight, I would hate to be rude and leave the lady behind the scenes without some credit." He shrugged a bit. "You don't HAVE to tell me. But I like to know about my clients a bit. Helps me do my job a bit better. I know what kind of schedules they lead, how soon they need their car back, how long they have to wait before things get problematic… if they need help outside of work. Like networking, a bit." He smirked as she called him a good mechanic and a tease, shaking his head. "I'm always scoping out the ladies. Just in case things as they are go south. I like to have a new direction hitting the ground~ Not necessarily a rebound girl, just a new interest~"
*
The languid woman watches him quietly for several more heartbeats, across the rim of her glasses. She fills the time with dragging a cigarette out with her lips and getting it lit once more, but at least her note pad is down, so he might not feel like he's being put on the spot quite so consistently. Lois inhales deeply, keeping that first puff in her lungs a bit longer than necessary, habit from smoking other things, no doubt. Finally, she just shrugs, but it's clear that she doesn't have near the interest in herself as she does other people.
"I…uh, alright. I'm a reporter. Junior reporter, technically, though I been there ten years and I'm the best writer in the whole damn news room. But, I got tits so… they wouldn't even let me call myself a reporter until five years back. For the Bulletin, but I sell stories to the Bugle, the Times… basically anyone who'll take the truth. I'm smarter than 98 percent of the people around and can see how shit is going to go down long before it ever hits anyone else. Like… Vietnam? Give us two years, we'll be over there too, stickin' our noses in it, like we always do. But I say that shit and people call me a conspiracy theorist, so… easier to lay back, smoke somethin' strong, and turn it all of. My car gets me to stories and is probably worth more than I am, so… I don't like her outta my sight."
*
Ford folded his arms, listening a bit, his expression somewhere between mild interest and ponderous thought. Though he scowls a bit at the mention that she seems to be treated poorly in her work place. "That's such bull honky. I have a friend at another garage. Only person in this city I would wager is as good a mechanic as myself… has to use a fake name because people find it absurd a woman would work on a car." He shook his head. "I might not be the… what is it? A feminist? Not that type myself… can't say I agree with the mindset, but if you do the same work and get the same results, you should be paid and praised the same damn thing. Better if you do the job better. So… sorry for that."
He tapped the car and smiled, nodding as she spoke of it. "It shows. Haven't had someone bring me a car and need me so little before. You take good car of her… and it shows." He smirked and shook his head. "Well… if I ever catch wind of anything interesting, I'll let you know. And if you need a bodyguard for your investigating… well, you've seen what I can do to a fender~"
*
That gets a deep, husky laugh from her, something about her voice still almost pettable, husky velveteen from deep in the back of her throat. Lois takes another drag of her cigarette, "Oh, honey…I'm sure I can barely afford your mechanical services, much less your body guardin'. I do okay for myself… Other nice thing, most people don't see women as a threat so… I get away with *way* more shit than nerds like Kent do, or the like." Lois admits, that smile across her mouth all daring trouble. She reaches her free hand out, other still toying with her cigartte, to pat the hood of her car.
"Besides…Rather spend the money maintaining this body than my own. She seems a bit better an investment." Lois follows that up with a teasing wink, even if there is something rather heartbreaking behind the words.
*
"Never said I'd charge you~" Ford quipped back, resting on a palm on the hood of the car. "Thing about super powers, they let you get away with things nobody else in your business can do. Like me. Never need a crane to pull the engine block out. Don't have to spend money on parts when you can bend 'em back into place. Never need a tow truck to move broken vehicles. Besides… what gentleman charges a lady something she can't afford for such a necessary need? Like keeping her body safe?"
He gave her a quick wink before straightening up. "If you don't think you're good looking, I hate to break it to ya, but you're wrong. If ya weren't, I wouldn't be sizing you up~" He chuckled, shaking his head. "See… that's where I can't get behind feminism. Makes the lady think she's gotta be all brains and no bod. I guess for some ladies, that's… insulting. For some reason." His mind wandered back to a certain nurse who misinterpreted what he was saying… "But a lady doesn't need to prove to me she's got what it takes. I already know~"
*
A little groan comes, Lois waving her hand in his direction like she's trying to stop him from speaking but can't quite get in a word edge wise. Ego meet ego. Is this what it's like talking to her? Sometimes! Finally, he finishes and she just laughs, "No, no… man, I KNOW I've got a great body and DAMN do I know how to use it. Your loss that you ain't gonna get to take the engine for a test run." She wry grins, flirting, but also completely unapologetic about it. She absolutely has confidence in her self where THAT is concerned, at least.
"Just ain't too interested in leading a safe… life. That ain't living. You gotta get out there, do something that makes your heart race. Gives you that high without any pills or dope. Reminds you WHY it's good to breathe. And hidin' behind some big strong body guard would just take the… challenge out of stalking some mobsters or seducing the mayor's son, yanno? Besides, I gotta protect my sources. Currently doin' a series on villains and they don't particularly like me draggin' anyone else into their lairs." Or, you know, skeevy lower east side apartments.
*
Ford smirked, eyes half-lidding. Darn… he had to admit, she was right. Being a committed man was hard. Not impossible, but hard. Meant he missed out on some of the fun of meeting ladies like this. "Like I said… hard not to chase what I can't have~" Ford replied, shifting his weight and eyeing her again. "So you like having things unstable and dangerous, eh? Boy, I am missing out…" he sighed, shaking his head. He did quirk a brow at her mentioning talking with super villains. "Villain lairs? …wait, you're the one who wrote that piece on the Absorbing Man, aren't you!?" It was just now clicking that this was the same person responsible for that interview. "Boy, you ARE dangerous… the guy you land had best be ready for trouble. And have powers."
*
Another laugh, this one proud and a little bit more happy, none of the bittersweet undertone to it, as he comments about her interview with the Absorbing Man. "Bingo. That was me. Glad you like my work… I figured it could be an interesting spin on things. And yes, keeps ya feeling… Alive. Good to live on the edge, you know? A boring life… that sounds like the worst curse in the world to me." Lois admits with a languid sigh. Then, finally, she rolls herself up and slips gracefully down off the hood of her car. "Well, since we're taking no test drives and the engine checks out, I don't suppose I should waste your time any more. It was… interesting meeting you, Ford."
*
"I did. Who'd have guessed I'd have a celebrity reporter in my shop today?" Ford chuckled, folding his arms and smiling. "Life's as exciting as you make it. I personally aim to get me a gal and settle down, have some kids, prove I'm a damn good parent too, you know? In my opinion, not being the best at what I do is what would be the curse. Mechanic, man, lover, parent, anything." Ford replied, smirking. But he gave her a wink back. "For a lady like you, I'm happy to waste time. Perhaps you'd like to grab a bite to eat some time?"
*
Lois tries to hide the slight wince that crosses her face at the thought of parenting, settling down and the like, but she looks utterly… Well, it's like watching a train accident. Nothing she ever wants, but she can't turn away. She gives him a little laugh, shaking her head slowly, "…Damn, well… Good luck to you. I don't think I could ever settle for the ball and chain. Would drive me more crazy than I already am. But… to each their own." Lois rolls her slender shoulders in a shrug as she saunters around and slips back into the driver's seat of her gorgeous car, window still rolled down. "Eat? Ah…gettin' dinner with a girl like me is gonna be more trouble than you want. You wanna stay loyal to your lady? Probably best to forget it. I… am not always the nice sort of girl. Best not to tempt things, yanno?"
*
Ford shrugged. "Not any time super soon… but I do like the idea. But like you said, to each their own. I can tell by how much you love your work that isn't something for you. A lady puts her mind to her career like that, she's not interested in kids. And that's her choice, after all. She'd be the one having 'em." Ford followed slightly after, placing a hand on the top of the door as she mentioned forgetting dinner. "Trouble? Not like we're going on a date or anything… unless that's how you'd see it~" He smirked a bit wider. "And I never said dinner. Could be lunch. You sound like a veritable font of interesting stories, wouldn't mind hearing a few more. Get the story behind the story, you know?"
*
One of those thin, carefully plucked brows arches high above her glasses as he still pushes the meal thing. Lois just allows herself to grin, "Mm…I'll… Consider it. If I'm really bored and need the ego fix talkin' about myself, I'll know where to find you. Meanwhile…you find any trouble, do give me a ring? I'd love to get in on the ground floor of your next drug bust, or whatever fight you end up in. Maybe we could make a serial out of it, if you keep it up." Lois, not remembering if she gave him her card already or not, hikes her hips forward enough she can dig into that magical back pocket of her jeans again. She pulls out Lucky Strikes — nope. Wallet, nope. Lighter, nope. All these things get tossed on the seat beside her. Note pad, NOPE. Finally, still warm from her ass, she pulls out a slender silver case and pops a business card out of it, handing it over to him. "Seriously. Any trouble on the air, you call. Capiche?"
*
Ford nodded, taking a business card in hand and pocketing it. "I'll let you know if any new up and coming superheroes get their start around here. Or whatever. I'll give it a ring… or, if I need someone to chat with~ You take care, then, alright?" He nodded, stepping back so she could close the door and start up her car.