"Alright, thanks Sarah. I'll call if I get anything." Vivienne puts her phone in her pocket and sighs, looking around. Grabbing the keys to her car, she walks inside the shabby motel lobby.
"Just a minute!" A voice from the back calls.
"No rush!" Vivienne yells back. When the woman gets to the counter, Vivienne gives her the once over. Middle aged, probably late 40s, dirty blonde hair and fair skin.
"What can I get you, sweetie?" The woman asks.
"A room please."
"Okay, how many people?"
"Oh, just me ma'am." Vivienne smiles sweetly.
"How are you paying?"
"Alright, then all I need is your license and credit card."
"Yes ma'am." She pulls her license and card out of her wallet and slides them across the counter.
"Oh your names Julia?" The woman smiles and looks up.
"Yes ma'am. After my mother." It wasn't a total lie. Her mothers name had been Julia.
"Well, that's sweet." The woman smiled and handed the cards back, along with a key. "Here you go!"
"Thanks." Vivienne smiled and walked out to find her room.
The room wasn't too bad. The bed was a queen, the wallpaper wasn't peeling, and the carpet looked to have been vacuumed.
The only downside was her neighbors.
She heard one of them shout out something about booze and hookers, while the other shouted that at least he could get some.
Vivienne just laughed and rolled her eyes. She threw her duffel bag on the bed and sat on the end. Putting her head in her hands, she zoned off. When she was little she had loved her dad. She really was 'Daddy's Little Girl'. She could remember him sweeping her off her feet and spinning her around in the living room.
"Daddy, daddy! Dance with me daddy!" Vivienne pulled on her fathers pant leg.
"Okay, princess." He held her hands and they jumped, danced, laughed, and shouted.
"Careful, you two. Don't break anything." Vivienne's mother leaned in the door way. She was beautiful. With long, dark, wavy hair and olive skin she looked like she was from the Mediterranean.
"We are, Mommy! We promise!" Vivienne giggled as her dad sat her on the couch.
"Come on, Julia, everything's fine." Vivienne watched her father embrace her mother in a tight, warm hug before letting go. "See? Everyone's calmed down."
"Not me!" Vivienne yells, before running between her mother and father.
"Oh really?" Her father laughs and chases her through the house. Finally he reaches out and grabs her. "Got ya!"
Vivienne squealed while her father tickled her sides.
About an hour later her mother says its time for bed.
"But, but I'm not tired!"
"Princess, your mother's right, it's time for bed."
"I don't wanna." She starts to pout and her father comes and scoops her into his arms.
She smiled just a little and wrapped her arms around his neck. " I love you daddy."
Her father smiled and put his hand on her head.
"I love you too, princess."
When Vivienne came to, about 10 minutes passed. She decided to do something productive. She got out her laptop and started looking for weird things.
After about twenty minutes of nothing, she sighed and closed the laptop. Running her hands through her hair, she got up to go get a shower.
Later, when she had finished, she put on her signature look: jeans, a tee shirt, and work boots. She slid her knife in her boot and her pistol in the back waistband of her jeans, pulling the shirt over it. Grabbing her faded, brown leather jacket and keys, Vivienne headed out.
Vivienne sat at the bar with a beer, some fries, and a bacon cheeseburger. The remnants of the days flashback swirled in her head. In the hopes of getting them off her mind she pulled out her phone.
"This is Sarah Morgan."
"Hey, it's me."
"Oh, hey. Get anything?"
"I got zilch. That is, other than the mud on Baby!"
"Oh great, now I'm never gonna hear the end of this."
"Hear the end of what?" Vivienne tilted her head and took a bite of her burger.
"You going on about your car."
She scoffed and took a swig of her beer. "Baby is a 1970 Dodge Challenger with a 318 engine. You can't say shit about her, when you drive a damn Prius."
"You cannot say shit about my Prius, when I get 50 miles per gallon and your gas guzzler only gets 6."
"Actually, she gets 10 mpgs and. Baby. Is. Not. A. Gas. Guzzler."
Vivienne promptly snapped her phone shut. When she was on the phone, she hadn't noticed a guy sit beside her.
"Gotta save the classics am I right?"
Vivienne looked to her left and saw the most gorgeous face she'd seen in a while. Dirty blonde hair and deep green eyes with a tan complexion. "Yeah, yeah we do."
He held out his hand. "Dean."
She met his and shook. "Vivienne." She took another bite of her burger and chased it with a swig. "So whatcha got?"
He drank some of his beer. "What?"
Vivienne rolled her eyes. "Your car."
Dean raised his bottle a bit. "Oh. 1967 Chevrolet Impala. 327 engine."
Vivienne almost choked on her beer. "Damn. I can't even get it straight."
"Get what straight?" Dean looked her dead in the eye and she matched his look.
"I'm trying to decide who's sexier. You, or your car."
"Haha. Blunt, are we?"
Vivienne smirked, and swigged some beer. "Take it or leave it, babe." She put the bottle on the bar, while Dean catalogued her features. Olive skin, dark brown eyes, and dark brown hair to match. When she got up, she put a napkin in Dean's lap with her number on it.
As she was halfway across the parking lot, she heard the bar door chime. When she reached her car, someone spun her around and planted their lips against hers. She knew it was Dean, so she deepened the kiss, and threaded her fingers in his hair.
His hands roamed her back, as they proceeded to make out against her car in the parking lot. His finger tips brushed something hard and cold when he pushed his hand under her shirt.
Why the hell was she carrying a gun? He pushed away. "Please tell me your not a cop."
Vivienne laughed. "No. I'm not a cop. I am a hunter though. Like you."
...To Be Continued...