I'm back with another story already. Honestly, my brain never stops, and that is sometimes a curse lol. Anyway, I watched both Mechanic movies with Jason Statham again, and of course I got another story idea about his character with Emily from Devil Wears Prada. Maybe it's dumb, but hopefully someone gets some enjoyment out of it.

If you have seen the first Mechanic film, then you'll see that I've started this story not too long after Harry McKenna's death and will be following the storyline after that.

I am always nervous to post a new story, so please be kind.

Happy reading!

2011

Arthur Bishop was a man who got things done and done well. He was the one called to clean up a mess, and he did so with such precision that the majority of the time, it looked like an accident. It took a certain mindset to do what he did, but at the end of the day, he slept just fine. Most of the time.

"Don't screw this one up," his boss, Dean Sanderson, had told him earlier that day. Arthur felt affronted by this. Had he ever "screwed" one up before?

"All right," he said to himself now as he entered the house of his next target. He'd worked it all out to perfection, just like he always did. David Stevenson was not the man he let on he was to his wife and children. In fact, David Stevenson had a woman on the side, and Arthur was pretty sure the wife had no idea. He crept through the house quietly, keeping his breathing low and level. Killing someone took precision and no emotion. Sometimes Arthur would feel emotion, but not all the time. This had started off with no emotion until he saw the photo of the twin girls on the hall table. He paused and closed his eyes briefly, feeling that pang of "what the hell am I doing?"

"Stop it," he told himself. David Stevenson had hurt children much younger than those twins, and Arthur knew they'd be better off without him. Still, it made him think about how they were going to feel growing up without a father, just like he had. At least they would still have their mother, unlike Arthur, who had been an orphan. David Stevenson was a target that hit a little close to home for Arthur because he was just like the two men who ruined Arthur's life: the one who sold him and the one he was sold to.

A noise startled Arthur out of his thoughts, and he stopped. He ducked out of sight as a tall man dressed in black and wearing a ski mask came around the corner. Arthur shoved himself into the hall closet and wondered just what the hell was going on. David Stevenson was his target, so why was there someone else in the house right now? He heard the person going up the stairs, and he went to open the door when there was sudden shouting and a gunshot went off. There was more shouting followed by the sound of a body falling onto the floor above Arthur.

"No, please..." a voice begged. Arthur was pretty sure that was David Stevenson.

Then, the front door opened, and someone else walked into the house.

...

Emily Charlton wondered just what the hell she was still doing delivering The Book and being Miranda Priestly's First Assistant as she walked into Miranda's house. It was five years since Andrea had come and gone. Five. Emily admired that woman for getting out and doing what she wanted because Emily was too afraid to follow suit.

"Oh, honestly," she muttered to herself as she heard some thumping upstairs. Couldn't Miranda wait for Emily to be there and gone before doing stuff with her husband? Emily wondered why Miranda bothered to even get married for a third time. It didn't make sense to her. The woman was horrible and clearly couldn't keep any sort of relationship going with anyone let alone another husband. She set The Book on it's designated table and headed over to the closet with the dry cleaning over her shoulder. She pushed open the door and snapped the light on just as she heard the scream.

"NOOOO!"

Then a gunshot. Emily dropped the dry cleaning and stood frozen for a millisecond until she opened her mouth to scream herself.

...

The woman was not part of the plan. She was supposed to be there the next night, not that night. Arthur saw her about to scream, and he grabbed a hold of her while clamping his hand over her mouth. She struggled instantly.

"If you make a sound, we're both dead," he said in her ear. Obviously another mechanic was upstairs finishing off the job that Arthur was supposed to do. This was not good. Dean was going to be so pissed, and Arthur hated to admit that he had screwed this up.

The woman elbowed him hard in the stomach and managed to get out of his grip. She tore out of the closet, and Arthur just knew this was going to end badly.

...

Emily ran for it. She reached the door in time to hear thudding on the stairs. She whipped around to see a man standing there looking at her, his gun aimed at her. She screamed as she ran back down the hallway. The first man from the closet was right in front of her, but she pushed around him and fled to the right towards the back door.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," she whimpered as she yanked the door open. She could hear one of the men chasing after her. Hands grabbed her from behind once she was outside, making her shriek.

"Come on," the man from the closet said urgently. "We gotta go." For whatever reason, she decided to trust him. It probably had something to do with the fact that he hadn't been the one to aim a loaded gun at her. He grabbed her hand tightly and ran for it with her. Emily didn't even look back to see if they were being followed. A few blocks down, they stopped at a truck.

"Get in," he ordered, and Emily realized what she was doing here. She was getting herself into another dangerous situation.

"How do I know you're not just gonna kill me?" she asked.

"You'd already be dead," he answered seriously. She swallowed hard. He had a point. He could have just killed her in the closet, the hallway, or outside. Against all better judgment, she got into the truck.

...

Arthur wondered what the hell he was doing, taking this woman with him. All he knew was that she was going to be considered a witness to David Stevenson's murder by the other mechanic, and she would most certainly be hunted down and killed.

He ignored her as she sat rocking in her seat with her head in her hands. He was thinking about what he was going to do. He wished he could ask his mentor, Harry McKenna, what to do, but the man was dead. Arthur had been hired to kill him by Dean for selling out their fellow men on a mission and getting them all killed. Arthur pinched his nose then, remembering. Harry had told him he wouldn't have wanted anyone else to kill him (and Dean had warned he would send someone else if Arthur didn't do it), but that still didn't make him feel any better about it. Harry's son, Steve McKenna, who had no idea Arthur had killed his father, was currently living at Harry's place until it was sold, and Arthur already knew he was going to cave and teach him how to be a mechanic because he felt he owed Harry that much. How was he going to have this girl around and do that at the same time? No. He was going to have to find a place for her to go. Then again, where could she go that was considered safe? His head was in a jumble.

"What's going to happen to me?" she asked then, her voice a ragged whisper. Arthur figured they'd been driving long enough to be off the other mechanic's radar for now. He pulled over into a parking lot and stopped. Then he turned to look at her.

She was very thin. Her blue eyes were wide with fear, and her auburn hair was framing her face wildly.

"He's going to find and kill you," Arthur answered truthfully.

"What?!" she yelped. "Why?"

"Because you saw him. You know he killed David."

"This can't be happening..." she said, shaking her head.

Arthur didn't really see another option. She could go to the police, but it wouldn't matter. A mechanic was good at their job. She still wouldn't be safe. No. He knew what had to be done here, and he groaned inwardly.

"You're gonna have to stay with me," Arthur said. "Until this blows over or I find him."

"What? No. No, no, no," she shook her head hard. "Absolutely not."

Arthur grabbed his file then and slammed it down on the middle console, making her jump. He opened it roughly and jabbed his finger at her photo.

"If I know who you are, where you work, and your everyday routine right down to when you take a shit, then so does he."

The woman stared in horror at her picture before looking up at him.

"You were stalking me?" she asked, her voice jumping up a pitch.

"No," he shook his head. "I was doing recon for my target. I saw you at the house, and I had to know who you were and why you were there. That's all."

"Your target?" she asked. "Wait...were you there to kill David?!"

It was out there now, and he did look the part with his black outfit and gun that was now in the cup holder.

"Yes," he answered truthfully. She looked shocked.

"Why?" she asked.

"I could tell you things about him that would make you feel so dirty that no shower would ever get it off," he replied. "He's done things that your imagination wouldn't even begin to understand."

The woman did not respond, but he saw her registering it all.

"This...this other person who killed him...he's not with you?" she asked.

"No. He's someone else sent to kill David."

"And he knows how to find me?"

"If I do, then he does."

"So...where do I go?" she asked tearfully.

"I already told you," he answered, still looking at her. It was crazy, he knew that, but he also knew that if he didn't, this woman was going to die, and for some reason, Arthur did not want her to die.

...

Emily was freaking out, but she did her best to remain reserved. This man was obviously a contract killer, a hit man. He had rescued her from another hit man, and now he was offering her to stay with him until the other man went away or got dealt with. Emily knew he was right, that she'd be dead within the hour if she went back home, and that was what was scaring her the most, knowing she was being hunted. She wished she knew why she had so much trust in the man sitting beside her in this truck, but something told her that he wasn't going to hurt her, that he really did want to help her. Something about him reminded her of someone else who had always made her feel safe: her father.

"I'm Emily," she said.

"I know," he nodded.

"And you are?" she asked, bristling inside a little.

"Arthur."

"Somehow I don't think that's your real name," she commented.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" he asked, annoyed. The woman he'd had a one night stand with recently, Sarah, had said the same thing when he'd told her his name.

"Because you look more like a-"

"Do not say Brad," he cut her off, pointing his finger at her. It's what Sarah had said he looked like. She had also said he looked like a David, ironically. Emily tilted her head at him.

"I can kind of see it actually," she noted.

"Are you coming or are you going to go home and get yourself killed?" he asked roughly.

"Well, Arthur, I guess I'm going with you because I kind of like being alive," she answered. He put the truck in gear again while giving her a nod. Then they were off.

...

Arthur didn't say another word as they drove. He couldn't believe he was doing this, but something about Emily made him want to help her. When he'd been watching her for his recon, he couldn't help but feel a pull towards her. She was feisty and strong minded, not to mention her intensity for what she did at work. She didn't deserve to die because she got caught in the middle of something. Arthur didn't know who the other mechanic was, but regardless of who they were, he knew her odds weren't good if she was left on her own. He thought of Steve, then, and he hoped that Steve wouldn't harass Emily.

"Thank you," Emily said after a moment, making him look at her.

"For what?" he asked.

"For wanting to keep me safe," she replied. "I get the feeling you don't do this."

"I don't."

"So...thank you," she said again.

"Don't thank me yet," he told her. This was far from over.