Three On A Match

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Despite many lifetimes of experience, Hanna did not know her way around a modern engine. The moment it died, the multitude of screens in the cabin going black, induced a level in incredulous panic in the immortal. She had experienced much worse, and no doubt would face similar in the future, but the sudden silence from the engine and loss of control confounded her.

The SUV rolled to a stop in the hard shoulder of the two-lane road. She tried the ignition, but nothing happened. Hanna popped the driver’s door and stepped down from the cabin, heedless of traffic. A car tore past with a bleating horn dying into the distance. She glanced its way, but otherwise rounded to the front of the SUV.

Perched on the bumper with the hood propped open, Hanna leaned across a sculpture of contoured plastic, rubber hoses, and forged steel. A marvel of technology, especially to one who still remembered the first combustion engine.

Quickly she surmised there was nothing she could do, and hopped from the bumper. Hanna placed a call, and sat on the SUV’s hitch, legs straight, and ankles crossed. Facing oncoming traffic, her head upturned to the sky and resting against the rear window, she waited.
Jon kept one eye on the road and the other on the radio as he flipped the stations. He'd left his battered old phone in the bottom of his tool bag and was too tired to go dig it out. It was in the back seat of his truck, besides, sitting on Yasala's empty booster seat.

It was after sunset, his headlights brightening the winding road, the surrounding trees, and once, a deer's eyeshine. After a time, the road led onto a busier thoroughfare, and he sped up, settling into a cruising speed. His mind was wandering to what he'd make for dinner after picking Yasala up from the babysitter, and whether he had it in him to go over her schoolwork with her that evening.

That was when he spotted the SUV stopped on the side of the road, and the woman sitting on the hitch, apparently waiting. It didn't even occur to the man to pass by, and after turning on his blinker, he slid into the shoulder, coming to a stop a little ahead of the stopped car.

She'd see him coming that way, and he wouldn't be in the way of any tow trucks. Getting out, he cupped his hands around his mouth and called out to her while there were no cars coming to blow away his voice. “All good?” he asked, starting down the road toward her car.
Hanna heard the crunch of gravel in the hard shoulder as a car peeled off to join her. Eyes still turned skyward, she watched the stars. It was too soon for her people to have reached her, which made this unexpected, and unexpected was interesting. The engine cut off.

A voice called out between the passage of cars, a voice she didn’t expect to hear again, and one she didn’t immediately place. But she knew at once it wasn’t one of her people; they wouldn’t have used English, and they wouldn’t have been shouting anyway. Drawing her gaze from the washed-out stars—she remembered them so much brighter—stood and rounded the SUV from the passenger side to meet him.

“No. The car.” Hanna raised her voice to be heard across the distance, her other hand tracing back to the vehicle. “It cut out and won’t start.” She paused by the SUV’s popped hood and waited for him to approach.
With the light so low, he pulled a flashlight from the bed of his truck before crossing the distance, but kept it lowered so he wouldn’t blind the poor woman on top of everything else.

Car trouble was about what he expected, though the engine cutting out completely sounded beyond a simple jump. Jon nodded to himself when the woman replied, not recognizing her from her voice alone. “Ah, bad timing,” he commiserated in his friendly way.

As he got closer, he took in the woman’s features—Asian, slight build, interesting fashion choices. Someone from the city, he thought. Her face was somewhat familiar, and after a moment, he hitched a laugh, his smile shifting from polite to amused. “Hey there, Ms. Shufen. What a wild coincidence.”
Ancient eyes, tempered in the light and quenched in the darkness of near epochs, squinted against the beam of his swaying flashlight as it played across the shoulder. She saw wider and deeper than any mortal could fathom and night held no terrors for her. He made some jest about timing, something she didn’t quite understand, but let it pass. Too often this modern lingo could have been a different language.

As the man drew closer and she heard him use an old name, one that she’d only recently breathed life into again, her eyes widened to sparkle in the night. It took Hanna a second, but soon, a sharp grin sliced across her lips. It was the boy from the party, the waiter she’d sent to fetch Pippa. “I have a job for you.” She mused, harking back to the gala. Her tone edged curious, acknowledging the coincidence. He’d proven himself once, maybe again.
Reaching the woman's car after a few more long strides, he chuckled at her quip, his expression brightening at being recognized. Even if there'd been an exchange of money, it hardly meant a woman of her apparent station would recognize him. Their short interaction had been purely business, and she'd barely looked at him.

Now, she seemed as mischievous as ever, although he'd clearly caught her at a disadvantage this time. “Is that right?” he asked, knowing it was more of a call back than anything else. “I don't see any women in tree dresses you can harass around here.”

He idly rapped his knuckles on the hood of her car, showing his willingness to take a look.
Hanna stepped aside and motioned towards the dead vehicle on the shoulder of the road as he rapped on the hood, an unspoken invitation to see what he could do. She watched as he got down to it, now crossing her arms and thinking back to Pippa and her dress. The gala had been a whirlwind and she left that night with little to show for her adventure; a few more links of the Chain fell into place, nothing more. Though the gala itself allowed Hanna to slip her yoke for a night.

Harassment was an exaggeration of what happened, but she felt some humor to his choice of words and raised an indulgent smile. “Shame.” She mused, drawing an obvious sigh.

“And I haven’t decided yet.” She replied to his first question, watching him root about the engine. “Do you know what you’re doing under there?”
With Ms. Shufen's go ahead, he got to work taking a look, but not before having to first round the car to peek into the cab and undo the first lock. The hood popped up, and then he was able to slip his fingers under the rim to undo the second latch.

Scanning the engine with this flashlight, he kept half an eye on the woman, catching her indulgent smile. Her question made him snort softly to himself. Maybe,” he hedged. “I mostly work on planes, but... I dunno.” He looked up and offered her a debonair grin. “It's probably close enough.”

Although, Jon didn't see any immediately problem with the engine. He poked around with the dip stick, before looking for the fuel pump test point. Not spying it right away, he asked, “Can I try starting the car? Could be electrical.”

He'd at least rule that out, since he didn't have a handy way to check the fuel pressure.
“Close enough,” she repeated in a murmur with a small smile of her own. His profession, or pastime, at the very least, kindled her curiosity. To find him handing out canapés one night and tinkering with her engine the next rang with something more than coincidence. She narrowed her eyes as he shone the flashlight about the engine. Hanna knew when the universe was trying to tell her something, but if only she could figure out what it was trying to say.

To his question, she uncrossed her arms and gestured an unconcerned hand towards the driver’s side of the SUV. “Do what you must.” She ambled a few steps behind him, watchful of his method, and careful not to crowd him. He’d find the keys in the ignition.
Bobbing his head in absent thanks, Jon slung himself up into the driver's side seat. He grunted a little, finding the seat too high and too far forward for his stature, but crunched himself into the space anyway, since he'd only be there for a moment.

Finding the brakes, he twisted the key in the ignition and was only met with a telltale clicking sound. Frowning, he tried again, and listened to the alternator struggle, but didn't torture it for too long. “Yeah, so it seems like an electrical issue,” he said regretfully, hopping down from the seat and brushing his hands on his pants. “I don't think I can help with that, but I can keep you company while you wait for a tow.” He shrugged, but meant it--he didn't feel good leaving the woman alone on a dark road.
Hanna said nothing as the mechanic folded himself into the cramped driver’s seat which she had adjusted to her comfort. The smallest of amused smiles tugged at the corners of Hanna’s mouth. There was something about watching someone conform to a shape not their own. It was subtle, but a bending of the will nonetheless. He did this as a matter of course and without complaint.

Soon the engine was wheezing with that familiar strained sound she heard when trying this herself. He unfolded and clambered from the SUV, and Hanna similarly stepped back. She nodded deeply as he diagnosed the problem, getting the gist her car wasn’t going anywhere, anytime soon. And while kind of him to offer to keep her company, it was a surprise that registered as a raised eyebrow.

“That’s unnecessary.” Hanna dismissed his offer, but kept any scorn from her voice. He meant it as a kindness, after all. “You have a car.” She prompted with a glance towards his vehicle parked down the shoulder, the glint in her eyes like that night at the gala. She had a job for him.
Ms. Shufen's commissioning of his car made Jon cut out a surprised laugh. Both eyebrows lifted at her forwardness, but he didn't deny her outright. She was clearly a woman who was used to getting what she wanted when she wanted it, but she did have a point, and if he could get back on the road, that was a win for him too.

“Arrite,” he said, good-naturedly, gesturing toward his car. It wasn't a cushy ride, but she was clearly just interested in getting where she needed to go. “Sure, I can give you a lift- where're you heading?” Aware that he still had to get home to pick up Yasala, he waited on the woman's answer before deciding on how far he could take her.
His chuckle caused a wry curl to her lips. Hanna knew he was humoring her, maybe even entertained by her manner, interested in seeing where this went. None of this was what he expected when he departed. But he had proved himself useful once, and seemed confident enough to stop and help a stranger. He would help her if only because he was a good person. Had their positions been reversed, Hanna would have watched the fire burn from the other side of the river.

“The Ashford Hotel.” She said, taking his invitation to heart. They were agreed in all but price.
The Ashford Hotel was all the damn way across the city and Jon had to chuckle and shake his head. “Depends on traffic, then,” he said thoughtfully, warning that there was a limit to how far he'd take her. “I gotta pick up my kid, so I can get you into Old Town and maybe you can call yourself a luxe Uber from there?”

It was pretty take it or leave it on that one. He wasn't going to leave her but he couldn't take her all the way to the Ashford, for heaven's sake.
He found the hotel humorous, and Hanna turned to face him, ready to agree. The Ashford was nice enough—perhaps the nicest place to stay in this backwater town—but it wasn’t anything special. Hanna called the palaces of kings and emperors home. The Ashford was an inn compared to such excess.

Her lips curled as he let her in on the joke; it wasn’t the hotel, only the distance. Hanna huffed, and her eyes glinted darkly to imagine being dumped somewhere in Old Town. It wasn’t what she wanted to hear, and what stopped her from just taking his car, but she couldn’t deny Old Town was closer and more populous. An Uber was out of the question; Hanna knew what it was, but she’d never taken one before, and she wasn’t about to start. Yet continuing her journey to the Ashford would be a minor inconvenience from there.

Amused, she replied, “I would never stand in the way of a father from his son.” and she started towards his car.
His stipulation seemed to be of no object to this woman, but that's about what he expected. She'd paid him a good chunk of change to simply deliver a message, so she had that 'I get what I want' kind of attitude. Jon sighed a little as she breezed past, wondering what he'd gotten himself into.

“Daughter, but yeah,” he called, following her over to his truck. Sidling past her, he moved around to the passenger's seat to start moving junk over and clear the seat for her. An old lunchbox, a half closed tool-box, a few random bits and bobs. A few still-wrapped plastic straws spilled into the footwell.

Standing back, he held the door a little more open for her, gesturing for her to ascend into the cab.
He had a mind to clear the passenger seat of trash. Hanna was a pebble in the stream as he did this, letting the moment wash over her. A part of her couldn’t care less about the squalor, and the dynastic part of her shuddered in the face of it. She was a contradiction, too long-lived to stay in a single groove. As the man stepped side, his work done, and gestured her into the cab, Hanna hitched herself up and swung into the seat with little more than a sidelong glance. There, she sat and adjusted her skirt and jacket, and settled in.

The SUV abandoned in their wake would be towed or it would rot; it wasn’t her problem now. Hanna watched the hazards blink in the rear-view mirror and grinned at the wastefulness of it all. Petty as it was, she wanted to scuttle another just to deny the Lotus its use. The man, her savoir, soon climbed into the driver’s side.
Closing the door behind her, Jon circled the car and hauled himself up into his much more comfortable driver's seat. His car started with a well-cared-for purr, the lights strengthening to illuminate the forested road ahead.

Behind them, the blink of the hazard lights caught his eye, and as he took them off the shoulder and into the road, he asked, “Is someone coming by to pick that up?”

It didn't seem out of the question, really, with the kind of money Shufen threw around.
Hanna followed his eye to the rear-view mirror. Looking to her own, she caught the orange flash of hazards in the side mirror, appearing closer than they were. “Someone will be.” And that was the end of that to her. The vehicle had served her well until it could serve her no more. It didn't belong to her and she felt no connection to it. Really, whether it rusted by the roadside meant little to her.

Her eyes roamed the cabin to steal snatches of his personal life from the litter and things in the cup holders. There she began assembling a picture of him. “Thank you by the way.” She said, sincerely. Thank you wasn’t a word she got to use often these days. The word did not feel strange or foreign to her, just nice to say and nicer to mean.
Jon took that at face value. She must've called someone before he arrived, it was the only sensible conclusion to the man. So, with that in mind, he drove on, gently easing them up to the speed limit on the winding road.

The truck's main cabin could best be described as lived-in. Not dirty, but untidy certainly. On Hanna's side of the car, an extra toolbox took up part of the footwell. There was a flashlight and other emergency equipment in her door, including a poncho and a road flare. The cupholders on the console between them were both occupied, one with a coffee thermos and the other with a child's water bottle in pink and purple.

Behind her was Yasala's booster seat. The back window next to it was covered with a slew of stickers, some of which Jon had made a half-assed effort to peel off. The other back seat had the man's kit bag, half open and showing pouches of his day to day gear.

Hanna's thanks made one side of Jon's mouth crook up in warm acknowledgement and he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. “No problem,” he replied, just as sincerely. “What's got you coming out this way? Do you live out here?”

There were nice houses on the sprawling properties, usually closer to McCoy's. If she didn't, he wondered what kind of detour would bring her out here and then all the way across town to the Ashford.
This was a man who traveled often; his truck a second home. The toe of her shoe tapped against the tarnished metal of a toolbox in the footwell. She heard the tools jostle inside with the engine’s vibrations as Jon accelerated. Hanna had a casual eye on the speedometer as the truck sped up. He kept to the speed limit, either out of habit or a concern to be a conscious driver with an unknown passenger. Hanna settled in for the ride all the same.

Given this seemed a working truck, the clutter of tools alongside the trappings meant for a child hinted at this being his only mode of transport. With her gaze fixed ahead, she watched their passage. That he seemed technical, or otherwise skilled, contradicted the image he portrayed at the gala. Hanna had underestimated the waiter, but at least she could still be surprised.

The back of her hand brushed the pink water bottle in the center console as she rested an elbow upon it. His question drew an interested chirrup from the immortal, almost as if his asking roused from a trance. She looked his way, deciding how much to share. “No.” She said after a time. “I’m staying at the Ashford.”

As to what brought her out this way, “I dislike being cooped up.”
There was a long moment of silence and Jon glanced over, wondering if the woman had heard him over the sound of the car. He was considering turning on some music when she replied. He wasn't surprised to learned she was staying at the Ashford, long term, unless this was a recent move since the Gala.

“Ah, yeah. So, just taking a ride around the country, makes sense.” He supposed. If it was normal for a very rich woman to go traipsing around the countryside alone. “Kinda eccentric, aren't you?”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Hanna commented with a slight smile and offered nothing further to the contrary. How she spent her time seemed perfectly normal, all things considered. She pulled at what slack there was in her leash in hopes that the strap fray or slipped the hand entirely.

He seemed the curious sort and Hanna was curious of this man who had assisted her twice already. Their time at the gala had been brief, little more than a transaction. Without old acquaintances suddenly appearing, she had time to linger. She glanced to him as he drove. “Do you make a habit of rescuing stranded travelers?”
Jon supposed she wouldn't, but in his experience, eccentricity was an unconscious endeavor. If someone admitted to it, then it was simply being weird for attention. Ms. Shufen was simply... Odd, all on her own. He preferred this.

Her question made him chuckle. “Only if they're pretty and rich enough to stay at the Ashford,” he joked. The flirt was very casual, the man meaning not much more than to pay a compliment at the most, while being self deprecating about his own motives.
Hanna side-eyed him, her smile sly for the compliment. While she looked exceedingly good for her age, her stay at the Ashford wasn’t on her dime. However, neither was good conversation and was apt to cut the ride short.

“And still, you are unwilling to go all the way.” She grinned around the double entendre, blasé in her reproach.
Jon laughed heartily, unfazed by her retort. “Rich and pretty ain't gonna pick up my kid on time. Besides, you wanna pull up to the Ashford in this ride?” It wasn't a bad looking truck, but it would be out of place on that glimmering boulevard.

The road was still winding and seemingly remote, but they were drawing closer to the city. Lights glimmered through the trees, evidence of neighborhoods on the offshoot roads from theirs. A few times, Jon's headlight caught the eye shine of a deer considering bounding across the road, but they bounded away before the car came too close.
He had a good laugh; whole and hearty. Her retort hadn’t been anything special, but he humored her all the same. It was the laugh of a confident man used to laughing. In another time she would have joined in, yet she only allowed herself a moment’s smile before it slipped back beneath the surface. Laughter and happiness played a minor role in her life now.

That would be eccentric.” She murmured loud enough to carry the short distance. Hanna reckoned she had only a few more opportunities to softly spur him for not taking her to the Ashford before the tone changed and he was no longer laughing. Hanna could have pushed. She could have pushed and pushed until he dripped with fear, and his laughter turned to sobs. It was tempting, but she didn’t want to do that. The quicker she returned to the Ashford, the quicker the laws that governed her life snapped back into place. His ultimatum was an excuse to delay.

“What do I call you?” She asked after the deer thought better of crossing the road.
Whether she meant it or not, her reply endeared her somewhat to him. Sometimes he liked the thought of making a scene, and it probably wouldn't do anything really, but dropping her off in a big dirty truck would be eccentric.

And, he thought, convincing himself privately, he and Yasala could explore a it downtown after, maybe get a bit of dinner. He didn't share these thoughts, though, not yet sure if he wanted to commit to driving across town. It remained an amusing flight of fancy.

Instead, he just smiled at the road at her question. “Jon's fine,” he answered as the car accelerated after the deer bound away. “And you?”
“Hanna.” She replied, knowing full well this wasn’t the name she gave at the gala. Hanna wanted to see how he handled the contradiction. She went on without missing a beat, all pleasantries. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Jon.”
As a well-raised man, he would've reached over and shaken her hand if it wasn't an awkward sitting position. Instead, he dipped his head in acknowledgement, and went on to ask, “Hanna Shufen?” He'd picked up on the various names, but Shufen was alien enough that he'd assumed it was a surname.
“I go by Hanna.” She said, not watching him, instead staring down the headlights of approaching traffic. She blinked, opening her eyes in a sidelong glance Jon’s direction with a slight grin. “Shufen’s how she knew me.” Hanna said, reminiscing, and sounding like she was rehashing old history.
The answer was odd, but unsurprising, making Jon smile to himself, but he hid it behind the pretense of rubbing a hand over his stubble. Hanna probably didn't realize how eccentric she sounded, but he liked it so far. It was weird in a way that was more interesting than annoying.

“I guess you guys go back then, huh?” he asked, following that thread of conversation. It sounded like that's what the woman meant, which piqued his interest quite a bit. If he'd known the truth of it... Well, he likely wouldn't have left it alone then either.
The way Jon phrased his question made Hanna crack a grin. If only he knew how close his innocent words skirted the truth… not that he would have believed her.

“Something like that.” Hanna drew a breath, frowning slightly with the effort of recollection. The where and how dredged from the silt of her memory. “Never thought we would meet again.” Her expression was thoughtful when she replied.
This had to be the strangest conversation Jon had had in recent memory, and he'd been a hunter once. He'd had quite a lot. It was vague, with the barest shadow of something deeper running across it, like the wisp of a cloud over the face of the sun.

And having been a hunter once, his mind didn't run to solely mundane conclusions, but neither did he settle there. The world was more normal than strange, a lot of the time, and he erred on the side of mundane. Old friends, he concluded, and... perhaps it ended sourly?

“So, how did your secret reunion go?” he deliberately pried, unashamed of his curiosity. It's all he knew about the pair, and he was interested!
Hanna allowed herself a grin and a sigh as she reminisced. Unforeseen as reuniting with Pippa had been, it hadn’t been unpleasant, even if their conversation foreshadowed dark tidings. Hanna was still unsure what to make of what Pippa told her and where she fit into it. Humming thoughtfully, Hanna looked his way, and she focused on something he said: secret. Her grin widened, both playful and sharp.

“It wouldn’t be a secret if I told you.” Let him make of that what he wanted. No doubt he would conjure something fantastic… or sordid. Maybe both, depending if his imagination escaped him.
Fortunately, she wasn't offended at his asking, and when she evaded the question, the man just laughed heartily again. He thought he ought to have expected that. “Fine, be that way,” he chuckled, clicking on the blinker as they came to a intersection. “Probably just sat around and giggled, anyway. Teehee, secret meeting.” He fluttered his fingers and his eyelashes as he did the impression. Jon hardly knew what he meant to gain by teasing Hanna like that, but he was having fun with it. An evening fog played across the asphalt. The car pulled to a stop at the stop sign, and he looked around at the dark woods, absently thinking it'd be spooky as hell to break down at this point.

The remote woods were fine when one was moving, but when you were stuck, in the quiet and the dark? Nah. He could admit that it gave him the heebie jeebies. The truck's engine revved as he accelerated again, hanging a left and continuing their approach into the city.
Hanna only smiled, settling to take in the show. He was charming and disarming, the type of man who could easily convince a woman to get into the cab of his truck, even on a dark turn of country road when sensible heads would think twice. He put her at ease, and for someone who basked beneath the blazing sun of ulterior motives, that was both alarming and liberating. He knew nothing of her or the Lotus, or the wheels that spun around them; a simple man, if she was of a mind to be dismissive.

Not that simple was bad, it just was. She hadn’t intended to speak more of her meeting with Pippa, but here she was. “We spoke about you.” Hanna said nothing else, knowing the lure would get a response.