Closed - Plot: Second Chances
It had become something of a habit to check on Freak Nation several times during any seven, especially after the storm had occurred. And now that things were so near to being done, well, sue him for being over-protective.
Alex rolled into the parking lot and started a slow loop around the outside of the building, sitting back on his seat, his hands resting easily on his thighs. So far, so good. Nothing looked out of place.
As he came around to the main entrance, he frowned. There was a bike leaning on the wall right beside the door. He didn't recognize it at first glance – it didn't belong to one of the kids – and he was pretty sure he didn't know it from around the neighborhood.
He parked next to it, got off his own bike and crouched in front of the other. It was small enough to belong to a kid, but there was no kid in sight.
"Holy shit!" Alex exclaimed when he started looking closer. He lied. He *did* recognize this bike. It was the first one he'd ever owned. He ran a hand down handlebars, laughed at the peeling stickers he'd put on the frame, paused, ducked his head and looked under the seat.
Yep, definitely his. There in faded permanent marker was his name scrawled in small, childish script:
Property of Alex Durance. Steal this bike and I'll beat you to the ground."
"Hell yeah," Alex murmured. He looked over at his current bike, grinned and pulled a marker from his bag.
Alex rolled into the parking lot and started a slow loop around the outside of the building, sitting back on his seat, his hands resting easily on his thighs. So far, so good. Nothing looked out of place.
As he came around to the main entrance, he frowned. There was a bike leaning on the wall right beside the door. He didn't recognize it at first glance – it didn't belong to one of the kids – and he was pretty sure he didn't know it from around the neighborhood.
He parked next to it, got off his own bike and crouched in front of the other. It was small enough to belong to a kid, but there was no kid in sight.
"Holy shit!" Alex exclaimed when he started looking closer. He lied. He *did* recognize this bike. It was the first one he'd ever owned. He ran a hand down handlebars, laughed at the peeling stickers he'd put on the frame, paused, ducked his head and looked under the seat.
Yep, definitely his. There in faded permanent marker was his name scrawled in small, childish script:
Property of Alex Durance. Steal this bike and I'll beat you to the ground."
"Hell yeah," Alex murmured. He looked over at his current bike, grinned and pulled a marker from his bag.