He was cordial enough, even if her question made him a little uncomfortable. X-23 watched him with interest, taking note of the way he paused before moving to pass her as though uncertain. Her words struck something in him. She didn't know why he would try hiding who he was unless it was because her face was not familiar to him. She turned to watch him ascend the steps up into the store and quirked an eyebrow at his statement. Yeah, she saw a shitload of people wearing visors like that. The trend started in Milan and then traveled to the states. Sure thing. "If you say so, Summers."
Fat man sidled past Scott as he went in, his chubby face pinched in irritation. "Where's my wallet?" His angry question was tossed at X-23 over the distance between them. Without giving him an answer, she went to her car to throw her rations in through the open window. As she walked around to the gas pump to remove it, he drew up on her and got a little closer than she would normally tolerate. "Where's my wallet, girlie? It was on the counter before you got there and now it's not."
"Not my problem," she replied laconically. She shoved the gas pump back where it belonged and turned to screw the gas cap into the car. As she pushed the little locking door shut, the man grabbed her arm and tugged her closer. "You're really going to want to let go of me now." His breath smelled like rotten eggs and beer. It was strong enough to make her want to look away but she kept her eyes locked with his.
"I'll let you go when you give me my wallet."
Inside the store the cashier continued to ring up his customers, occasionally glancing outside. When he saw what was going on, he wavered. "Vince, maybe you dropped it in here or something. Would you guys look on the floor. Please." There weren't really a lot of people in there anymore so his plead was quiet. The last thing he wanted was a domestic situation on his shift.
X-23 tore her arm from his grasp with a strength that surprised the fat man. "Fuck off," she told him politely, rounding the car. Talking to Scott was not important enough to stay and deal with this shit. She could always find him down the road and tail him if she wanted. More than likely she was just going to head straight for the mansion, let Ororo Munroe know everything, including her sighting of Scott, then figure out where to go next. Except the fat man recovered and was behind her again, drawing back his fist to teach her a lesson.
It happened rather quickly, like a well choreographed dance. His fist flew, X-23 dodged so that the full force of his punch was met with the frame of the car door. She stepped to the side and grabbed his free arm, spinning slightly and pinning it to his back in a way that he'd never be able to manage on his own. He unspun himself, pain making him angrier, and tried to club her. X-23 rammed her shoulder into his gut and flipped him over her head like he was nothing. He landed on his back on the gravel with a heavy thud and a cry of pain. Spinning, her fists clenched reflexively and claws, two on each hand, split the skin between her knuckles. Great, now she was going to have to lay low for awhile. So much for returning to the mansion tonight.
"Don't get up," she told him, not even out of breath. "Your skanky ass wallet is on the floor in front of the ice cream cooler."
"I think you broke my back!"
"No my problem," she said for the second time. Her claws retracted and she glanced up to look directly at Scott. "See you around."