Sunday morning

It's Sunday in Miami, and Fiona has just come into a divine little bit of luck.  She'd heard the container had been unclaimed for some time, she did a little research, thinking it might be antiques or something similarly lucrative, but she never expected the beautiful long tail, pre-war Mercedes that emerged, dusty for certain, but by no means unsalvageable. 

The previous owner had taken meticulous care to preserve the engine for transport, and after a few hours of reattaching hoses and cleaning some connections, she was thrilled to hear the engine start right up.  Next thing it needed was a good cleaning, and she didn't trust it to a detail place.  Someone somewhere knew this car and until she'd done some research, she wasn't letting it out of her sight.

And that's why she's walking through the Bar towards her door, white tshirt and short shorts, with a bucket in one hand full of big soft sponges and a bunch of little brushes.  She smiles when she sees Ramon reading his papers and drinking his coffee.

"Enjoy your ride?"