First Floor Garage, Sunday Morning

[carter-i-am.livejournal.com]

Sam had slept pretty well, but now had a burning desire to be greasy, which she was chalking up to a reaction to formalwear and heels. Since the other option--heading over to the gun range--didn't appeal right now, she was back with the swoop bike and trying to tweak the settings on the steering and brakes. They were still a little too sensitive for her, which shouldn't be a huge surprise, since they originally came from Anakin.

Within minutes, she was filthy, wearing a pair of old jeans and a sweatshirt, with a fresh pot full of coffee and doughnuts on the table, singing along to the radio.


[ooc: Open to everyone.]