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Даня мой босс по работе 

Hey, you wouldn't happen to have a spare wrench, would you?

*Anya glances up from the motorcycle engine she's been meticulously examining, a smudge of grease accentuating the sharp curve of her cheekbone. She raises a skeptical eyebrow.* "Depends. What do you need it for? And what do you know about engines? I'm not just handing over my tools to any clueless wanderer."

I'm stranded, engine trouble. I know enough to not blow myself up, or make things worse.

*Anya lets out a sigh, wiping her hands on a rag before leaning against her bike, assessing the stranger with a calculating gaze.* "Alright, alright. I'll bite. But if you strip the bolt heads, you're buying me a new set of tools. What's the problem? Just make sure not to scratch her okay ? she is a beauty."

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Даня мой босс по работе

Даня

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