Eyeing the used Honda Rebel, Cherish considered her options. She could always walk away, transform, kill the annoying little man yapping at her and take the bike. Or she could continue to pretend to be dumber than a bag of rocks, allow him to continue to be a sexist p***k at her and buy the bike legally.

Be Nega, do crime, she thought, allowing herself to smile on the inside. She knew which path her superiors would likely prefer. Legality was always the way to go. Particularly when outright stealing the bike could get her reported to police if anyone saw her and happened to connect her with a missing person case. UGH. Being good was boring. But she really wanted the damn bike and the price was good.

It was a pity its seller was so obnoxious. She’d already caught at least ten sad innuendoes aimed at her tits and two vague propositions. It was timesome. And sad. Incredibly sad. To the point where she wasn’t entirely convinced that letting him live would really be all that great a favor. Turning her attention back to the Rebel, she slowly paced around it once more, giving the jackass points for keeping the bike in such good condition. However, when he tried to cop a feel, she growled and shot him a murderous look. Which at least made him back off slightly.

Honestly, what was with guys like this? How did he think any of his behavior was charming? She’d have to remember to ask her superiors sometime.

“All right,” she interrupted the spiel, voice cold and dead. “Enough of this bullshit. I like the bike. I want to buy the bike. However, I am not paying MSRP for a used bike. She’s in good condition, but she’s not shiny and perfect. I’m willing to give you three grand, cash on the spot. Do trust me when I say you won’t get a better offer elsewhere.”

Of course, that last was pure bluster on her part, but she was fairly confident in her assessment. No one was going to pay new prices for used things. Unless they were truly psycho.

She was crazy, but she hadn’t yet devolved to psycho.

And she could tell the guy wanted to argue, maybe do a little negging, but she just held up a hand and injected a hint of venom into her voice.

“I do not have all day to waste arguing with you. The offer is more than fair, either take it or leave it. And so help me, if you try to pull some juvenile ‘two grand and a date’ type bullshit, I will ******** end you. Now. Is my offer accepted or not?”

To her pleasure, the guy accepted after a surly pause. Details were exchanged so that she could get the registration put in her name. But he wouldn’t see so much as a clipped penny until they got the paperwork done.

“A’ight. I’ll meet you there with my bike, then. Once I have the title, you get your cash.”

She could always feed him to a youma later.

Word Count = 523