Some new things here but not many . . .


Learning Curve

Otto Halliwell wasn't an easy man to surprise . . . but when the new "secretary" walked into his shop's office he was very surprised in deed. He was also aware that he was in for a world of hurt and trouble.

He knew that when he'd gotten the random and out-of-the-blue phone call from his wife's cousin he was in for it. Especially since said extended relation was also married to a business friend of his from Seal Beach that seemed to have an uncanny knack for causing trouble wherever he went. Hell, Eddie Guadimus had introduced him to Junie when he and his now wife Millennia were dating. And that (along with his wife's fondness for both the idiotic older boost and his wife) was the only reason he'd even considered agreeing to the idea of letting Guadimus's daughter work for him while she was in school.

Junie had helped force the issue when she'd found out that Chaosia Ripley, who was named for Millennia and Junie's grandmother the poor kid, was actually enrolling at California State University's Long Beach chapter for her graduate degree in Natural Sciences and Ocean Studies. She was going to be interning with the Aquarium of the Pacific later in her term but she needed a job to help pay her bills and buy books. So Junie had mentioned that he was desperately behind in his legal paperwork and hated the computer she'd forced him to get for the office.

The gossiping women had already planned out just how much he was going to pay his goddaughter and when she would work when he and Eddie had been informed. Eddie had been okay with the fact that his only daughter was going to work in the legal portion of his shop, so long as that's where she stayed. She apparently knew what her father had done before he decided to run a legal garage and detailing business . . . and hadn't expressed much interest other than learning the basics. Or at least that's what her mother swore to Junie.

But as Otto looked at the woman his goddaughter had transformed into, loitering in the doorway as unsure of what came next as he was, he was beginning to believe it. Nothing as sweet and innocent as she looked could want anything to do with the world he and Memphis's crew were trying so hard to break from.

Her hair was the color of her father's, a deep golden blonde with platinum and strawberry blonde streaks littering her waist length curls. Her bangs were swept over her forehead from the right, partially shielding one of her pale sea glass blue-green eyes. She was tanned from her days in the sun with light freckles splaying across her nose and cheeks. Pouty pink lips spread into a friendly-but-bashful smile showing perfect white teeth.

What killed him though was how she was dressed. Her distressed faded jeans hung loose on her hips while fitting a little too well on her butt and legs then tapering out and into a slight flare. The retro styled light blue top with the tiny flower print was innocent enough with its cap sleeves and squared neckline with the small lapels . . . until you saw that it was very low cut and paired over a very lacey white camisole that framed her chest a little too nicely but still managed to look conservative. She was wearing a long gold necklace with a glossy iridescent blue-green koi fish charm that was designed to move with its wearer along with simple iridescent blue-green tear drop earrings and a matching gold, diamond and aquamarine koi cocktail ring making it easy to see the influence of her major. The pale blue moccasins with white stitching finished off her odd but cute look.

Otto laid his head on his desk, suddenly regretting getting roped into this. He lifted back up to see her looking down at him worriedly, her bottom lip pulled in between her teeth.

"Um . . . Are you okay, Uncle Otto? You look a little flushed . . . I mean if I need to come back later I can there's not a problem there at all. I still have to open up Mom and Dad's house down in Bixby Knolls and well . . ."

Otto nodded, getting up and going around the desk, putting on his best grin for the girl.

"Seems you still ramble when you're nervous, eh girl?"

She laughed, cheeks flushing brightly as she nodded and hugged him.

"Yeah, Uncle Otto. I do. Mom hates it but Dad still thinks it's cute. So . . . what exactly do those two gossiping hens have me set up to do every day of the week when I'm not at class or working with the aquarium? Mom was so eager to get me here that she practically had my apartment packed and shipped to the house two seconds after I agreed . . . "

"Couldn't be bothered with the details, huh?"

She shook her head, still smiling at him.

He chuckled, pulling her into the office and a one armed hug, showing her to his filing cabinets and the damned computer in the smaller room off the office.

"Well kiddo, you're in for a world of hurt. Especially since I doubt that damn computer's been on more than twice. Even with Toby here."

She groaned but nodded, eyeing the towering piles of boxes and papers like they were going to topple at any minute and kill her. She stepped into the 'records room', which was a glorified cubby hole with shelves and a very dusty window that was packed to the gills with enough paperwork for twenty years. She looked at her godfather, shaking her head as she stepped in and started flipping through an open box. Suddenly, the cardboard box tipped and the whole leaning tower of papers, files invoices and mismatched car parts came spilling around her feet. She looked at the mess then to her now gaping 'uncle'.

"Okay. Uncle Otto, you so owe me for this. Let me get a list together and try and clear up this mess."

Otto nodded, turning to leave when he heard her squawk again. He turned just in time to see another tower crumble and send a wave of paper towards them. He looked, trying to find Chaosia as he heard rustling under the piles. When she sat up, papers sticking out of her curls and dust settling around her, he started chuckling. Her expression went from outright shocked to royally pissed so quickly and completely that he couldn't help but laugh. She was still graceful.

He scuttled from the room just in time to avoid the decrepit accordion folder that was hurled at his head, laughing loudly the whole way. Maybe having Chaos around here wouldn't be so bad after all.


Chaosia Ripley Guadimus had never been one to willingly surrender and accept defeat.

She'd mastered three forms of martial arts when she was younger just to prove she could do what her brothers could do and better. She'd graduated top of her class nearly three years early from high school just so she could walk down that stage with her elder brother Mikhail (despite the immense hatred the principal had for both of them). She'd fought to earn her scuba license and deep sea diving credentials. She'd gone through hell to earn her certification in underwater caving in spite of her almost paralyzing claustrophobia . . . And she would be damned if a bunch of papers and parts spilling out of a glorified coat closet were going to bring her to her knees. She'd survived worse.

And it was with that mentality that she pushed forward and sorted through the almost seventeen years of back paperwork and invoices her adoring 'Uncle' had shoved in this damned cubby of hell to forget about. She sighed, blowing a wayward strand of her bangs up and out of her face for the seventh time in fifteen minutes.

She'd quickly shed her cute top and cami when she'd actually gotten into the back of the closet, going and retrieving a black tee and faded grey Bermuda shorts from her sea foam green Cayenne Turbo S that she kept for when she went surfing. It was the only option for saving her outfit after spotting the thick layer of dust that had accumulated over the room's long term abandonment.

So the fact that she was sitting in the floor, barefoot with her hair pulled up atop her head with one of her many black elastic headbands holding her hair at bay wasn't really that big of a deal. No, the big deal was the huge dusty bunny she'd just found lodged in one of the millions of accordion files. She was positive that the damn thing just moved on its own.

She sighed, trying to look away from the damn thing and go back to her sorting. She'd made a rather nice sized dent and wanted to at least get everything organized and into the proper piles before she went to head home. If the papers were all sorted together than the new filing cabinets she was picking up tomorrow morning to go along the longest wall would actually be more useful. Plus she would be able to get the restaurant shelving in here and add the bins so she could start cataloguing and storing miscellaneous parts and pieces the restores might need.

She ran the heel of her hand over her eyes, trying to force herself to focus. Tomorrow would be a bust if she didn't get this done. Thank God she'd come to Long Beach a whole month earlier than she needed to . . . or she would be strapped to get her house in order and do all of this.

A noise from the main portion of the garage caught her attention. She stopped sorting, listening to the new and rowdy voices that seemed to be heading in her direction.

"Man, I can't believe Otto just handed this chick a job! He wouldn't even let Wayland come on full time and he just up and gives this mystery girl a nice position as a secretary? What's she going to file? Her nails? This is a garage not a damn office!"

Chaos stopped, forcing herself to not overreact to whoever was out there. She knew that Otto's current crew wouldn't take kindly to the idea of a newcomer, and a girl none the less, invading their midst. Her mother and father had said that all of Otto's workers had been here when the shop had been more than a garage and restoration depot so they were all going to be hard to win over. She wouldn't automatically be accepted like she was with her Dad's crew.

A newer, lighter voice brought her attention back to the discussion outside.

"Yeah Bob I have no idea what she's going to do but its Otto's place and it's his decision. And just to let you know Sway didn't want to come here full time. She likes working at the Anchor and here. So don't automatically dislike the girl for that. Besides I thought you couldn't stand Sway anyway."

She heard the deeper voice grunt and respond, nonplussed by the logic his companion had presented. "I don't, Raines. She's too damn bossy and emotional for my tastes. Plus if she's here your brother is as useless as a second asshole and you know it. But at least she knows her way around a car. I saw the scrawny little thing that'll be hanging around here from now on."

"So?"

Another snort. "So she doesn't look like she's ever pumped her own damn gas much less done anything under the hood of a car. And the way she and Otto were hanging all over each other . . . mark my words she'll be the new Mrs. Halliwell soon enough."

Chaosia couldn't help it. She saw red. How dare whoever this jerk was suggest that she would even think of doing something so horrible? And to her own Aunt with herUncle? This idiot was going to bleed. Profusely.

She stood, dusting the dirt and paper debris from her shorts and went to leave the Records Room. She was walking out when she spotted the conversationalists. There was a group of five men standing near one of the paint docks, obviously deep in discussion. The loudest was also the oldest, apparently by at least fifteen years. He was also her critic.

She reached up and shook her hair free of the bun and headband. If she was going to kill someone might as well let her hair down to do it.

She crossed the garage, eyes locked on the grease covered moron who was still arguing with one of the younger men who had his hair slicked back severely. This one was defending Otto while the other three nodded, none of the five spotting her until she was almost on top of them.

She cleared her throat, tapping the biggest idiot on the shoulder. When he turned and saw her, she registered the disgust annoyance and (grossly) lust that passed through his dark green eyes before he opened his mouth and sealed his fate.

"Sorry sweetheart but your boss is gone on back to his current missus so you'd best go on and do some filing before you get your pretty little hands dirty."


Later, when Otto was yelling at her she would swear that she didn't remember what he said to make her go off because she knew restorers of the skill level her Uncle employed were rare. Especially these days with technology and machines replacing the human aspects of detailing and manufacturing . . . but she knew what had set her off. She'd just never tell. Besides, she'd gotten in her licks.

Chaos was barely aware of anything other than her fist slamming into the man's left jowl and the follow through to the right. She distantly registered the shocked cries and curses of her observers as she then locked her hands together and brought them down on the top of the man, Bob's head with as much force as she could without doing serious and permanent injury.

When he fell into a crumpled pile at her feet, she realized that the man with the gelled hair had been yelling at her as he met the ground. His friend, a guy with spiked blonde hair and the build of a boxer came around and grabbed her around the middle, pulling her away as Bob tried to stagger to his feet, words slurring as he swayed dangerously. When he took a sloppy swing in her and Blondie's direction she popped him the face with three quick and vicious jabs, nodding as she heard bone crunch. Her brothers would be proud of those hits when she told them about this little fiasco. She could practically hear Mikhail crowing with pride in the back of her head as the Gel Boy screamed, "Jesus Tumbler get her out of here before she kills him! He's too stupid to stay down!"

Her handler, Tumbler, pulled her out of the garage and back towards the office and Records Room and out the front door. When they were beside her Cayenne, he asked her,"Can I let you lose without you hitting me?"

She stopped and shrugged before nodding. He set her down and let go, taking a few quick steps back uncertainly. Chaos turned, eyeing him with open amusement and amazement. He was in a loose and informal boxing stance but she recognized one when she saw it. His feet were spread just enough to give him a firm but fluid base should he have to defend against a punch. Smart boy.

She smirked. Like she'd be stupid enough to hit him. He was at least 5'10 maybe taller, giving him a good four inches and a hundred pounds on her. She'd have to incapacitate him within three hits to even stand a chance. She could do it . . . but she really didn't want to explain to her Uncle why she'd hit two of his workers. Or tell her mother that she'd broken her knuckles bare knuckle boxing. Again.

Finally, he spoke. "Jeez. Did you hit him hard enough? I heard bone crunch on that second set."

Chaos shrugged, flipping her hair over her shoulders. "He should've kept his mouth shut. Or, at the very least, kept his voice down if he didn't know anyone else was around. I was in the Hell Hole when he started up with that mess."

Tumbler's lips quirked but he tried to remain serious. "The Hell Hole?"

Chaos nodded, turning to examine the three cars pulling around to the back. These had to be Otto's other people. The ones who ran the boosts before and were trying to go straight. If anything, their cars gave them away the same way her Dad's did him. The sleek black 72 Jaguar E Type Convertible, the gunmetal grey 67 Shelby Mustang GT500 with black Le Mons stripes and the gleaming blue 69 Chevelle Malibu all screamed people who loved cars as much as her Dad's ultra-rare and coveted red 1937 Bugatti Atlante. Not liked or appreciated. Loved.

She turned back to Tumbler, taking him in. He was cute in a weird way. His blonde hair stuck up at all angles and his blue eyes had this mischievous glint to them, like he was always in on a joke no one else got. He was built like the fighter he apparently was and dressed like . . . well. His black garage shirt and baggy blue jeans looked okay but Chaos had the feeling that this was normal for him. The long silver chain hanging from his pocket made her think of Mikhail. They would probably get along great.

"Yeah, you know. The unused Records Room that's been making my life hell for the past," she looked at her watch, actually groaning when she realized the time. "Six hours and counting. I swear Uncle Otto is doing this on purpose."

Tumbler nodded before jumping to attention. "Uncle Otto?"

She nodded, sitting on the hood of her car while eyeing the five people coming out the front door of the garage. This was going to get interesting. One looked like Gel Boy (who was walking beside him and talking quickly and quietly) but older in slacks and a shirt with a light jacket over it. His brown hair was styled almost conservatively and he had this easy going gait to him. His eyes, however, put her on edge. There was something sharp about those blue eyes as he took her in on the hood of her Cayenne.

The next person was maybe only a few years the other's senior and was walking with an apparent but down played limp. He had on mostly dark colors and his hair was slicked back almost as severely as Gel Boy's. He had stubble on his face and looked very amused at the situation. Chaos decided immediately that she liked this guy. He just seemed in control and chilled at the same time. No pressure or pretenses.

She turned, noticing the woman among them. She was, for lack of a better word, gorgeous. If not a tad untraditional. Her hair was bleached platinum blonde and fell in streaks, almost dreads around her neck and shoulders, the bangs being pinned out of her face. Her green eyes were rimmed in dark liner and her very plump and pouty lips were bare. And spread into a very dark and almost contagious smirk. She was dressed in leather red pants and a dark tank top, her heavy black boots clunking as she made her way across the gravel.

The last guy made her sit up a little straighter. He was huge. Not fat or pudgy (unlike poor Bob inside who seemed to have eight chins and two butts) but solid and built. He was at least 6'2 and dressed in dark jeans (cuffed once at the ankle oddly) and a black tee shirt. Topped off with black shoes and suspenders. Honest to God suspenders. She smirked, doubting anyone ever came up and popped the straps like she and her brother did to their least favorite uncle at formal occasions. From the severe look of him they might lose an arm.

As the entourage came to stand in front of her, the first one (and apparently the leader) stepped forward and extended his hand. An easy smile was on his face but she could tell he was nervous. Huh. That's a new one.

"I'm Memphis Raines."

Chaosia looked at his outstretched hand a breath longer than she should have before taking it and shaking once.

"Chaos Guadimus, nice to meet you Memphis."

He nodded, suddenly seeming more at ease after hearing her name.

"You're Otto's goddaughter, right? The one moving here from Seal Beach for school or something."

She nodded, resituating herself on the hood of her car and crossing her arms.

"Yeah. You guys all work for him?"

Memphis glared as the guy with the limp chuckled.

"Something like that, sweetheart. We're actually more of friends and freeloaders than employees. I'm Atley Jackson. Hell of a job you did in there."

She smiled, nodding. She was right. She did like Atley. He seemed to be as big of a smart ass as her.

Oh the possibilities.

"Yeah well he'll think twice before sprouting out his bullshit to anyone who'll listen again. I should've broken his damn jaw for saying half of that crap. I mean seriously."

The woman smiled, turning to Memphis and Gel Boy.

"See? I told you Bob was a prick but oh no. I was just being a drama queen."

Chaos snorted, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she turned to face the woman directly. She was glad that she hadn't been the only one to want to gut the slob she'd left broken on the shop floor.

"I'm sure you weren't. You should have heard the shit spilling out of his mouth. I mean if you don't have anything intelligent to say then don't freaking speak at all, ya know?"

She laughed, stepping up and extending her hand.

"Exactly. I'm Sway."

Chaos shook her hand, smirking. The big guy in the back just kept looking at her, as if trying to gauge something. Finally, Atley stepped forward and introduced him.

"That's the Sphinx but don't be offended. He doesn't talk much."

She quirked a brow before shrugging and turning to Memphis.

"Oh well. To each his own. So, are you going to tell me his name or am I going to have to dub him Gel Boy?"

Memphis laughed as the boy in question squawked indignantly.

"This is my brother Kip. And please, only call him Gel Boy when I'm around to hear it. C'mon. The others have gotten Bob out so you can come back in. We'll start the introductions."

She nodded, laughing as she slid off the hood of her Cayenne. At least she had a feeling they would help with Otto tomorrow when he found out she'd assaulted one of his employees.

Hopefully.