Alexandera Raine, or rather Alex as she was preferred to be called, paused upon the eroded sidewalk. She turned, pressing her hands upon the window pane staring at the strange wares within the shop. Most of the items spoke of magic and witchcraft and other various magical aids and beings. With a roll of her eyes, Alex turned away. It was ridiculous to think magic could belong in a world where technology and mechanics reigned. Of course, this way of thinking could also belong to her realistic mind set that went along with those that were good at automotives.

It was her first weekend off from her new job at the local mechanic shop and she planned on spending it scouting the area. Hearing from the customers how ‘unique’ Elm Street was she figure this was just the place for her. So here she was, walking down the sidewalk window shopping. She wasn’t really looking for anything particular just out and about.

For once Alex wasn’t covered in slime and grease from the shop. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a low ponytail showing off the blonde highlights. A few strands had worked their way loose framing a smooth featured face accented by just a hint of make-up and stormy grey eyes.

Her form was accented by that of white spaghetti-strapped top underneath a rather worn black leather jacket, just right for the dying warmth of autumn. She sported a pair of hip hugger jeans with various holes made for comfort rather than style. It was a simply attire, in fact the only accent was that of black slung belt matching her low pump heels.

Waiting rather impatiently for the turning of the light, she paused at the edge of the street watching various cars zoom by. When it was finally her turn to walk across the street, she hurried about, hoping she'd have better luck on the opposite side.

Wyatt was strolling on the opposite side. You never know when you'll stumble on the deal of a lifetime, so he meanders along the shop fronts at a leasurely pace. His clothes are nothing fancy, but nothing too shabby either. Close fitting, boot cut faded, jeans with a wide concho decked leather belt. The buckle is decorated with red jade and turquoise in a geometric western design.

His boots make light noise as he scuffs along with a Marlboro drooping from between his lips. He hasn't lit the cigarette yet, he's hesitating in case he wants to look in a shop, most are no smoking. His mustache droops right along with the cigarette. He's got on a plain black t-shirt that fit's snugly on his rugged chest and shoulders. A battered old straw cowboy hat sits crookedly on his head completing his ensemble.

As the woman crosses the street near him he tips his hat and gives a polite nod.

This cowboy has only recently blown into town himself.

Most women would’ve seen the rather ‘rough’ looking man and gone the opposite direction. Alex prided the fact in doing anything ‘most women’ did not. She caught the polite motion out of the corner of her eye and flashed a warm smile in return.

Being a newbie in town she had no room to be rude even if she wished to be. To tell the truth she was still learning where she was going. She was on Elm Street, yes, and she could get back to her apartment, but beyond that...there wasn’t much hope.

As a mechanic being around men a little coarse around the edges was nothing new to Alex. In fact some of her good friends back at Pennsylvania had been some rather rugged members of society. She had to admit though; the cowboy hat was a nice touch.

Wyatt's lips twitched into a smile too. It wasn't often he got a warm reception, he was a little rough around the edges and he knew it. Most people figured he was a bum when he was in work clothes just walking through the city looking for work. He could go home and work on his ranch any time, he wasn't hard up for money. He just had the wandering itch. He loved to travel, see new places, and meet new faces. Though he doesn't make new friends easily, he does enjoy making them.

"Hey there." he said in his twangy drawl. His voice was rough around the edges too, from smoking. It rasped like chalk catching on pavement when one draws with it. He didn't say howdy, because that was just plum cheesy coming from anyone in a cowboy hat ,as far as he was concerned. His big blue eyes twinkled merrily.

His accent told her he came from the South, a long way from her home state. Her family still resided upon its hills but she had chosen to take the first out that came her way. A reason why she came to Bayfield of all cities? She couldn’t really give one, other than the fact it wasn’t near her family.

Unlike some Northern perceptions she wasn’t expecting the stereotypical cowboy; she was too smart for that. Yet her own background was hinted in her speech, “Hello.” She replied her eyes softening a bit with warmth. Her voice seemed to be the very contrast of his. Whereas his was gravely, her’s was smooth. He had a draw and her syllables were pronounced precisely.

Her voice told him enough, she wasn't from around here either. "Stretching my legs a bit and seeing the sights. You?" he asked after volunteering a little. If she were willing to converse he'd give his name next. He pulled the cigarette from his lips and tossed it into a nearby wastecan. It was just as wrong to talk with a smoke in your mouth as it was food. He should've gotten rid of it before greeting her. His slight embarasment over that didn't show on his already ruddy cheeks though.

He pushed his hat back a bit to see better as they were now walking under the shade of some shop awnings. It was a nice day, sunny, a light breeze that hinted at autumn just around the corner.

“I just moved in recently and I’m just trying to get familiar with the city,” she shrugged absently. “I heard at the shop this was a street known for its unique stores so I figured ‘why not’? Nothing else for me to do on my day off,” she half-smiled at the fact she really didn’t have much to do with her time other than wander around the city.

She had already done all of the unpacking. She didn’t have a lot of stuff actually. She had sold most of it to have some extra cash for the move and for emergency funds. Never know when it would come in handy after all.

Alex appreciated the gesture in throwing away the cigarette; the drawl was making it a bit hard to understand him as it was. She didn’t need speaking over a cigarette added to it. Yet she was more than welcoming to a conversation. As the newcomer she didn’t have any friends outside that of work. So to have a talk with anyone would’ve been welcomed.

"Ah, I see. Only been here a month myself, this is where the wind blew my boat so I'll stay for a while and bide my time. Name's Wyatt, Wyatt Kelly." He said offering his hand.

“Alexandera Raine, you can just call me Alex though,” she nodded. Alex took the offered hand with a firm grip, not one that crushed, but far from the flimsy ones some women often gave. It seemed his hands were just a callous from hard work as her own. Other than both being new to the city, it was something else they had in common.

“A wanderer then, eh?” she replied dropping her hand back to her side.

"And Jack of all trades, Miss Alex." he said He didn't know her well enough to just go by first name, that wouldn't be right either. Wyatt did try to be mindful of his manners sometimes. He'd noticed her hands were nearly as rough as his own. "What sorta shop you work fer?" he drawled softly in that rasp of his. Still in spite of his voice's sandpaper edges there was a warm quality to it.

He seemed friendly enough, though at the ‘Miss’ title Alex was sure he could see her amusement flashing in her eyes. She was called many things over the years, but ‘Miss’ was rarely one of them.

“I work of one of the automotive shops,” she explained, “I know, I know,” she waved off what she could already see coming. “Most women don’t like getting their hands dirty so it’s an odd occupation, but hey, I love it.” Whether he was thinking this or not was trivial, she had just been told too many times that mechanics was not an area for women so she had grown more than sick of it.

"Well if you like it, I'd rather work on boats myself." He said smiling now, he bore no such prjudices, folks should do what they were good at and made them happy. It just made sense. He can indeed detect her amusement in her eyes at the Miss prefix. His own smile widened. "You like sailboats?" he asked.

She paused, turning this thought over before responding, “Actually I’ve never been on a sailboat before. I would love to take a trip some time…it’s just I’m someone fresh out of college. I don’t exactly have the funds for a sightseeing sail.” She sighed a bit. It wasn’t that she didn’t like boats. She’d been on a pontoon boat once when her family went on a trip to the Great Lakes years ago. She loved it. It was the fact she was in a bit of a pinch with money right now. She was working at the shop, but being the newbie she was only allowed part-time. It would be a while before she could gain enough seniority to get a full-time job and really start bring in the green. Until then, it was saving the pennies and turning off all the lights. It was a sacrifice she was more than willing to make when she stepped out on her own.

"Not quite what I meant, Miss Alex, I live on a sailboat. I hardly give pleasure cruises for proffit though, Just tool around the bay sometimes and go out fishing." He said smiling at her telling him bit more more than he'd expected. "It's sorta nice if I'm willing to stay on the coasts I never hafta pack." he confided.

Alex reddened a bit in the misinterpretation of his words. This was quickly replaced however as he went one with a look of interest. “Sounds convenient, that is if you don’t get sea sick,” it sounded like she talked from experience. It wasn’t her that got sick, it was her twin. Sure the trip to the lakes was fun…that was until Bethany spent most of her time with her head hanging over the side of the boat. “Well I don’t have a boat, but I do have my Stingray.” at the mention of her “baby” her lips split into a wide grin. Ah, yes that 1973 Stringray Corvette that had taken her ages to persuade her boss in letting her keep in the back. It was her pride and joy.

It was far from running, however, on her lunch breaks you’d always find her underneath the hood of that thing. She was hoping some day she could take it to a classic car show. Another dream, another time however.

" Nope I don't get seasick. You?" he asked. they were walking past the shops now in front of a row of offices. "Oops, I Think we oughta turn around right quick." he said with a soft chuckle. His laugh is husky but it lacks the harsh edges of his speaking voice, it's a lot less raspy coming from deeper within the man. "So you like old cars then?"

“I don’t, not usually at least.” She shook her head in reply, “Let’s just say it tends to ruin the experience for everyone even if you're not the one sick.” That was cutting the story short, yet she found herself telling this man more than was usual.

She blinked, too deep in conversation to realize, like him, they had gone to far. She nodded, agreeing with the fact they had better turn around, else she’d never be able to find her way back to her apartment. That was just what she needed, to get lost within her own city.

“Oh yeah. I like to fix them up, make them new again. I like the challenge. People told me the car couldn’t be fixed, so I just had to then.” She smiled, rebellious? Oh yeah.

It was a challenge, sometimes she got cars so rusted through most would think you’d get more if you sold it for scarp. Not Alex, the greater the challenge the better the reward. She did it partly because she loved to and partly because people stated it just couldn’t be done.

"Yeah I've been a deckhand with guys who got seasick before, ain't no fun." he agreed. "I fixed up my boat myself, she was rotting in drydock when I got her. Paid a hundred dollars and five funny cigarettes to get her. Spent four months cleaning her up on the outside and then another three months gutting her and refitting the cabin. She's a gem now. I'm sure your car will be too when you get done." he told her in his lazy drawl.

Wyatt just earned himself a few points of respect in Alex’s book. The man had the same hobby as she, just dealing with boats rather than cars. “Yeah,” she agreed. It sounded like she was going to have to do the same process with her car: redoing the interior, fixing the engine, etc. “I think it’s just going to be a bigger project than what I had anticipated,” she sighed. When she tried to fix this, that broken and when that was fix, this broke. It was a never-ending cycle, or so it seemed.

"You wanna sit and rest a spell, there's a coffee shop right there. I'll buy you a cup of joe and we can shoot the breeze for a while if you like. I mean if you aren't in any hurry. I know I'm not." he offered and gestured to the coffee shop about five doors down from them.

Actually a cup of coffee didn’t sound like a bad gesture. She turned looking at the shop in which he indicated with a slight nod. “I don’t have much to do either for the day.” It was another one of her days off so she had set off just to explore her new city. It was nice to meet a friendly face. At least, she knew someone in Bayfield now. "And you don't have to pay for me." The thought was nice but he didn’t have to feel obligated. She was a big girl, paid her own bills and everything.

"We could just take turns you know, that what I usually do with folks I know, my turn this time and yours if we go again." he said. Wyatt isn't the sort of man who won't let a woman pay for anything, but in this case he'd take turns with his fishing buddies, why should he treat her differently?

He adjusted his hat again as they made their way to the coffee shop and nodded to an elderly woman they passed on the sidewalk. The old woman courteously returned the nod.

“Sounds fair enough,” Alex choose to agree with the terms. Actually, she was glad he wasn’t one of the men that absolutely /had/ to pay for everything. It was times like those that Alex’s fierce independent streak tended to rear.

She continued along beside him glancing over as he gestured warmly to a passing elderly woman. Despite his outward appearance, he truly seemed to be a gentle soul.

They went into the coffee place and stood in line for a few minutes. Wyatt wasn't the sort that wanted anything fancy to go on with his coffee he took it plain and black. So ordering didn't take him very long. "Pick where we oughta sit." he suggested, for his tone of voice was just that suggestive, not commanding or overbearing. He was very laid back.

As she stepped inside she was hit by the warming smell of freshly brewed coffee. Various conversations fluttered about, making it nearly impossible to tell where one ended and one began. Tapping her finger patiently, Alex waited a line until it was her turn to place in an order for a medium mocha cappuccino. With a smile of thanks to the clerk she took her steaming cup, cradling it in her hands. Everyone had their addictions…coffee was Alex’s.

Hearing that it was her choice upon where they sat she turned glancing over the tables. They were far from the only ones in the café so seats tended to remain limited. Spotting that of a small table over to the side in front of a mock fireplace she directed with that of a finger, “I guess over there.” She started off, assuming he’d trail along behind. Sitting down, she took a sip from her rich drink. Ah, there was nothing better than the smooth, rich taste of a cappuccino.

Wyatt did exactly that trailed along, he was careful to say please and excuse me as well, the place was crowded. He sat down with his cup of coffee and gave a contented sigh.

"So when you wanna go for a sail? " he asked after a sip of coffee. From some guys that would be a pickup line, from Wyatt it isn't. He likes showing off his boat and sharing the tranquility the ocean offers.

If she hadn’t known what she did of Wyatt, she would’ve thought it /was/ a pick up line. Knowing better however, she knew he just wanted to show off his boat and just what he had done to it to someone else who’d appreciate the hard work. It was like whenever she offered a lift in her old Mustang to some of her guy friends, same concept. Just two friends hanging out.

“My schedule’s practically open, except for Tuesdays, Thursdays, and every other weekend. Those are my only restrictions.” Her eyes flashed a bit in anticipation and excitement. To be out on the open water again was an opportunity she doubted she’d have for quite sometime and to hear of it so close brought a smile to her lips.

"I don't have any body to answer to but me. So when everyou want, just lemme know. " he said sipping at the coffee. He really was just aquiet drifter, the only schedule he kept was his, he marched to the beat of his own drum. He reached into his pocket and took out a match book and a pen. he wrote down his phone number and the number of his boatslip at the marina. He handed it to her. "If you want we can go fishing or just barbeque out on the water after a sail around the bay."

Taking the torn sheet of paper she examined it as he gave an explanation. It sounded like a great day to be had. “Fishing sounds great. I warn you though last time I went fishing...I caught a turtle,” she sighed somewhat chuckling at herself. She decide to not mention that only a few moments before that, she had caught the infamous log-fish. She folded the paper and placed it neatly in her pocket. “Alright, I’m kinda busy for the next couple of days, but I’ll call you whenever I’m free,” she smiled in return, happy to have finally made a friend in this city.

"He laughed at her remark about the turtle. "Well fishing can be plan A and barbeque can be the back up plan, plan B." he says. "I'm free whenever, so what ever works out for you and we'll hope it's fair weather." he says with a smile. Wyatt hasn't any friends here either really, it is nice to have someone to talk with for a spell. Being alone can get mighty lonely.

Alex didn’t care much for solitude herself either. There was something about not knowing anyone to call if in an emergency that just put her on edge. She then grabbed a napkin, pulling out her own pen and started to scribble a set of numbers. She then finished with her name and pushed it over towards him. “Here’s my number in case you need to contact me for any reason.”

With that done she settled back in her chair her expression twisting with curiosity. “I have a question, why here? Why out of all the places you could ‘drift’ to, why did you pick Bayfield?”

"The bay was pretty and I was outta groceries, as good areason as any I reckon." He tells her. The way to a man's heart really is through his stomach. Wyatt had eaten everything but a can of condensed milk and some creamed corn when he arrived here.

It was a reasonable explanation; however it wasn’t one that went far into the future. Not that she could really say the same either. “I was offered a job here with good potential, so I said ‘what the hell’ and decided to take it. Then again, I would’ve taken any job to get away,” she took a sip of her coffee, “At least that’s the story I’m sticking to,” she smiled a bit as took another sip from the steaming coffee.

Wyatt lives in the present not the future or the past, it can be a flaw but it hasn't hampered him thus far.

"Get away from what?" he asks quietly. Long ago he'd left home to get away from his father. So it made him curious that she'd said it.

"Oh just get away from my family. I wanted to be out on my own, completely. After a while it was evident the only way to do this was if I moved away a good bit of distance." Alex explained. Her hunger for independence was what had driven her to this city. A place to start out completely fresh and doing it all on her own. For Alex, it was a dream come true.

"Ah, I see." he said grinning. His coffee was empty. "Well you like it here so far?" he asked shifting in his seat and fidgeting with his hat a bit more. It felt nice and cool in here with the A/C blasting on him.