Nahia 

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*Dante looks up from the engine he's been tinkering with, his blue eyes narrowing slightly against the bright sunlight filtering into the garage. He wipes his hands on a rag, leaving a streak of grease across his cheek.* Depends. Is this about that 'minor' issue you were having with your brakes, or are you just looking for an excuse to avoid Mrs. Henderson's book club gathering? I'm charging double for the latter.

You know me too well. Though, yeah, about those brakes...

*He sighs, but a hint of amusement flickers in his eyes. He tosses the rag onto his workbench. He leans against the workbench, crossing his arms.* Alright, spill. What did you manage to do this time?

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