The deception with tact, just what are you trying to say?
You've got a blank face, which irritates
Communicate, pull out your party piece
You see dimensions in two
State your case with black or white
But when one little cross leads to shots, grit your teeth
You run for cover so discreet, why don't they

-The Fixx; One Thing Leads To Another

The girls weren't big enough sadists to make me sit still and play nice with Todd and his waitress. Of course it was his waitress. That GABGAB house hussy! But all in all, a pretty nice girl. I think her name was Amy or Ashley or Beth or something, I don't know. The fact of the matter was she was in, and I was out. Not that I blamed him, but still. It was a bit of a hit to my ego. So we headed home and I slunk in to bed to pout.

My best friend was ashamed of me. Or rather, where his junk had been inside my person. That was a little insulting. And in that moment of angst, I vowed that I would not let Todd's decision bother me. Then I heroically brooded for the rest of the night. Go me.

In retrospect, that was probably a bad idea for two reasons: one, it was the night before my first day at Jake's, and two, brooding does not equate to sleeping well. In fact I was up most of the night wondering why I attracted losers and vowing that I would do better and not date any more immature or evil boys. Of course my friends were there to support and comfort me.

"You look like shit." Myra told me as I practically crawled in to the kitchen. I shot her a nasty look over the kitchen island and hopped into a stool. When she noticed the stink eye, she placed a cup of coffee in front of me. She was the only one up, being as the other two were students and still nestled in their beds, and unlike me was a total freakin' morning person.

Her short, dark hair was neatly in place and her usual leather studded jacket traded in for a dark pantsuit (Complete with blazer!) for her day job. She was some kind of social worker for battered women (of the "I have life experience, and the younger girls could really use some one to relate to," breed) and looked practically respectable in that outfit. Considerably more professional than my black t-shirt and tan cargo pants.

I thanked her absently before taking a sip of the joe.

"So, today's the big day, huh?"

"Yep." I glanced up at her. "Just about ready to go, babe?"

Myra nodded, primped her hair once more, and started heading toward the door. Without me. I made her wait in the Mist Mobile for ten minutes while I gathered my tools and ran a brush through my hair. Once I was suitably prettified, at least for someone going to work in a mildly shady auto shop, I made my way to the garage.

The drive to the Women's Clinic was a quick one, and then it was a twenty minute drive to downtown where I would become some dude's slave.

As I pulled into the back of the lot, a young pale man greeted me. He raised a hand as I stepped out of my beautiful, beautiful machine. He took in the beauty that was the Mist Mobile a moment before addressing me.

"Lovely." He told me with a rather thick British accent.

I shook his hand with a grin. "Lovely." My shoulders bounced as my grin widened, "You're adorable."

"I get that a lot." The young limey ran a hand through his dark hair. "You must be Carmen?"

"Carrie." I corrected, still smirking, because well, I've never met a Brit before and I was excited, "You must be Jake?"

"Uh, no, no, Jake was my father." He licked his lips before expanding, "He left the shop to my brother and I when he passed."

"Oh god, dude that sucks."

He blinked at me. "Yes. Yes it does. I'm Jeremy, I do the taxes and paperwork and such. You'll be working for my brother JayJ." The pale (cancer pale) man rubbed the back of his neck. His bright blue eyes fell to the ground a moment before returning to mine. "Please don't sue him for sexual har-ess-ment."

I'm sure he was saying harassment, but it just came out so strange that I began to giggle obnoxiously in his face. After I settled, I promised I would not so long as I was guaranteed the same luxury. With a smirk he told me I would be. We shared a smile and he led me into the garage where several men turned to check out the new chick. The only chick, apparently. I saluted and they went back to work as my new boss welcomed me into his office.

A tall skinny man wearing eye makeup called me over from the door way. "Oi! Sweetcheeks! Get'n 'ere a moment!"

I cocked a brow at Jeremy. "Is he talking to you or me?"

"You." The younger brother told me with a hint of something akin to embarrassment in his voice. He placed a hand on my shoulder (after checking to make sure I would be okay with that) and led me to the office.

The man in leather pants motioned for me to sit with a flamboyant gesture of his arm before kicking the door closed behind me. He eyed me with suspicion as he walked around me to his side of the desk. I noticed his eyes were brown in comparison to his brother's blue and his skin closer to a healthy olive colour, but said nothing as he inspected me. I would've been unnerved, but his amount of eye liner made me assume him gay. Well, that and the leather pants.

"So. Miss Carmen Wilken. Li'le Carmen Wilken wants ta work with the big boys, that it?"

I stared at him. "The big boys?" I repeated with a crooked smile.

He didn't look quite so jolly. "Look, toots, I ain't got no problem with no dames in the doghouse, but don't think you're gonna get treated no different from the rest'a us."

"I know. I've worked in garages before."

"I know you know." He nodded. "But that's why ya gonna shadow me." His hand dropped to my head. "I now pronounce ya on probation!"

Then he forceful shook my head and slapped me on the cheek. I stared at him. He stared back, only his gaze was not astounded. In fact he seemed rather bored about what had transpired as he told me nonchalantly, "Well? Off ya go."

"Go where?" I dared a peek at Jeremy. His face was in his hands, and he seemed to be doing his best not to return my questioning glances.

"You're the new bitchboy." Jay J. paused. He drummed his fingers on his chair a moment before correcting. "Bitchgirl. You get the first coffee and donuts of the day. Might wanna start stoppin' off before work."

Damn. I had just escaped the life of a gopher, but I guess until I got some more experience under my utility belt, I'm be the shop's bitchboy. Girl. Whatever. With a sigh, and a weak smile, I stood. "Alright. Should I take orders or what?"

The elder brother reached in to his tight leather pant's pocket and pulled out a wad of cash and an apparent list of instructions. "Go to the Dunkin Donuts on Avenue 8. They got the cheapest coffee and best donuts around, alright?"

I saluted him and left. A few of the guys shot me curious looks, but no one said anything as I left through the back doors. Oh the responsibilities I was entrusted with.

A/N: Thank you to my beta thekkid for the coffee place!