Hannah smiled and took the weapon. It was heavy in her hands and a lot worse looking up close than it had been from farther away. It was scratched up and bent a little. She could tell by the feel of it that the barrel was clogged, the handle was bent and the trigger was stuck. But, she supposed, that it could still work. It obviously had been and before this...whatever it was...had happened to it, it had been a pretty piece of machinery. She could appreciate art. It was older but beneath the tarnish and dents, it looked new. She twisted it around in her hands.
She opened her mouth to tell him that she wasn't really a gunsmith, just someone who knew what they were doing, but he continued on, telling her about prices and then he offered her, well...he offered her what sounded like a job. Again, she opened her mouth to speak, was, of course, cut off. This time it was the girl, Katie. She spoke of Dante Valeron, who Hannah had, of course, heard of but never seen. That was how it went with him. Or so everyone said. She had never been one to trust the reliability of gossip.
He looked nervous and then embarrassed and then it vanished and was replaced with a grin. "...you can choose to leave at any point you want..." he was saying when Hannah finally tore her eyes away from the girl in the corner. She'd been staring at her, contemplating her words, evaluating her for signs of deception.
"I'm sorry?" She said, looking at the man. Then, she shook her head and stood, setting the gun back on the table. "I can have your gun done in an hour," she said, making mental plans on how to best use the time. She knew he wanted the gun fast. And, she hoped, the faster she worked, the more money she would get. "But that's all. I won't be leaving with you," she continued, staring at him funny.
She didn't know where that idea had come from. It was silly. She didn't even know this person. And then there was her brother...