where: h & a shop when: 1:43 am who: @erranthart
Admittedly, she never should have taken the gun in the first place.
She knew without a shadow of a doubt it was one of Hammer's most prized possessions (if not the most prized), but seeing it sit there, rusting and collecting dust seemed like such an affront to everything she considered dear to her heart. Or at least, what was left of it, anyway. So she took it under the guise of greedy interest rather than a selfless gesture to fix it up. It wasn't like she was prone to unsolicited random acts of kindness.
But it'd taken far longer to fix up than she had anticipated, which had led to an extra couple of weeks of being on the butt end of a cold shoulder. Ammo could easily say she was used to that treatment after so many decades together, but what she couldn't say was that it was easy. Hammer was her first contact in this second chance city, and without his company, it often seemed pointless. Drab, even, not that she would ever concede that out loud, especially to him.
It was the box that'd taken the longest to craft. Authenticity was key, and she was a perfectionist. The velvet was hard to come by, especially being bound to the city the way she was. The perfect presentation of the Smith & Wesson Model 3 and a few casings of ammunition even managed to elicit a smile from a pair of lips that rarely released one...but mostly because no one was around to catch it. Especially the actual owner.
For an extra touch, she'd scoured the club, eventually procuring an abandoned hair ribbon that served as a perfect wrapping for a perfect cedar box, stained and decorated with appropriate ornamentation of the time period. She tucked it safely into her bag and slung it over her shoulder, mounting her bike for the quick ride to the garage. Predictably, for such a late hour, the only light that remained illuminated came from the office and flooded the open doorway with a harsh yellow light.
Ammo didn't wait for permission after she knocked (which was customary these days) marching into the cluttered and cramped room, plopping the bag on the desk of the sole occupant so she could retrieve her prize. She extended it to him, a blank expression on her face. When it wasn't immediately grabbed, she set it onto the desk and tossed her bag on the ground, slipping her hands into the pockets of her leather jacket.
"Here." She said flatly. "Turn the brooding down about ten percent and open it."