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Dr. Horrible thinks the status is NOT quo. (billy_horrible) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-12-17 21:58:00

Who: Billy, Tink
What: Car fixing
When: Afternoon
Where: The shop Tink works at
Rating: PG
Status: Complete




Billy was technically a genius when it came to things that were mechanical. If it had parts, he could build it and unbuild it. And then he could make something entirely new out of it without even really trying. Unfortunately, he was a bit lazy when it came to practical things. Like his car. He had known that his left turn signal hadn’t been working for some time, and had been meaning to fix it.

Of course, meaning to do something and actually doing something -- very different.

So he probably should not have been surprised when he was pulled over for the very issue he’d never gotten around to. Somehow, he managed to get out of the ticket (probably by being his nervous self), and promised to get it fixed as soon as possible.

So when he was finally free to drive away, the first place he stopped at was a car shop. Because it was better to just let someone else do the work, sometimes.

Tink was in her coveralls, her hair sloppily tied up on the top of her head, and wiping her hands with a rag when she saw the car pull up. She’d just finished changing the brake pads on her previous client’s car, and had one of the other employees move the car off the lift.

“Hello there!” She called out, giving a little wave. “What can I help you with?” There was the bright smile of someone who loves her job on her face.

Billy got out of his car with a sour expression, a slight twitch threatening at the corner of his left eye. “Ticket,” he said, when he spotted her -- clamming up almost instantly, because he had a weakness for pretty girls, sort of. “Left signal. Needs fixing.”

Tink’s eyes sparkled a little. She loved fix-it tickets. It made her day when people had to come to a professional because they’d been neglecting doing something simple on their own, like replacing a light bulb or something. But when he said it was the left signal, she frowned a little. “...oh, um... that could be indicative of a more serious problem. Can I run a diagnostic?” She said. It could be mechanical, electrical, or something else.

“If you need to,” Billy said, finally catching up with his wits -- if only because they were talking about something so technical. “But I’m fairly sure that it’s probably just a fuse that needs replacing. I’d have done it myself, but...” he frowned, and looked down at the ticket he’d just received. “Forty dollars is enough of a burden for one day.”

Tink gave a little laugh. “Well, it’s not a problem. I’ll make her right again.” She said, stepping closer and running her hand over the side of the windshield. “And I’ll fix up that ticket for you, too. Just a fix-it, right?” She moved around the car to take a look, making sure there were no dents or scratches on the outside, then grabbed her clipboard from a table. “Can you fill this out for me?”

“Yeah, just a fix-it...” That didn’t mean he wouldn’t be a bit sore about it all day, though. He took the clipboard and eyed the paperwork for a moment before giving a little nod. “Can do. You guys take credit, right?” It would be just his luck if they didn’t. He looked around for a pen, thoughtfully.

“Of course.” Tink said, giving him a bright smile. “Visa and Mastercard.” She said, then moved to the driver’s side of the car so she could carefully inspect the turn signal up close. She also checked the mileage, then popped the hood so she could look at the engine.

Billy dutifully did his paperwork -- checking boxes and filling out his name here and there -- but he couldn’t help but glance up to watch her work now and then. He’d be good at a job like this, he considered. But not as cheerful or pleasant as a girl like her.

Tink came back over and took the clipboard from him when he was finished. “It doesn’t look like it’s an electrical problem, I think you just need a new bulb. Good news is we have them in stock.” She gave him a grin, then jotted a couple of things down on the paperwork. “You want to come into the lobby to wait while I go find it and install it? Then I can send this fix-it ticket electronically to the DMV and the PD.”

Billy rose his eyebrows, somewhere between surprised and bemused. Of course it was only a light bulb. The easiest thing to fix in the universe, since it didn’t really take any fixing at all. Oh well, there was nothing for it, now. At least it took care of the ticket. “Sure,” he agreed, shaking his head a little. “That’s not embarrassing at all.”

Tink gave a little chuckle. “Don’t be embarrassed. You just got caught. I’m pretty lazy about my bike, too, surprisingly enough. I’ve had people come in saying their lights don’t work, so they haven’t been driving at night. Then I go and actually turn them on...” She shook her head a little. “Some people shouldn’t be given a license, I swear.”

She ushered him into the lobby so he could wait for the five minutes it’d take her to find the replacement bulb and put it in.

It took him a moment to realize she meant motorcycle instead of a bicycle -- and after that everything made more sense. It amused him. He was sure she had a lot of good stories about basic human stupidity -- all he could do was complain about people trying to comment on youtube. Which, in its own right, was bad enough.

He pulled out his phone to waste the time away whilst she was fixing the most basic thing in the history of ever on his car.

Tink ushered him into the lobby and let him wait there. There was coffee, magazines, and a television, though it was off at the moment. She gave him a smile, then popped off into the storage closet to grab the bulb they had in stock.

Five minutes later, and Tink was back in the lobby, giving him a smile. “I replaced both bulbs. I figured I’d replace them both, if one went out the other wasn’t far behind. But I’ll only charge you for the one.” She said, moving to the computer to punch in his information and give him the total for the work. She had to send the fix-it ticket response off to the DMV and the PD as well.

“Well, that’s really nice of you,” said Billy, who was vaguely perplexed by it. His eye gave a little twitch before he went on. “I thought places like this were supposed to charge as much for everything as possible.”

“Those are the kind of places who don’t care about repeat business.” Tink said, giving him a smile. “Or honesty. I happen to be passionate about both.”

Billy gave an expression that was shocked, but melted away into sincerely amused. This girl was kind of brilliant in her own right. He appreciated that. It made him oddly brave. “Not to sound crass,” he said, turning a bit pink. “But do you work nights? I’d like to buy you a drink in thanks.”

Tink glanced over at him. “Nights? No. I don’t, but you could buy me a drink after hours.” She said, giving him a grin. “I promise I won’t charge you the normal hourly rate.” She added, completely unaware that that made her sound like a prostitute.

Unfortunately, Billy was completely aware of how it sounded, and he more or less choked on laughter, having to pound on his chest with his fist to keep from dying about it. “Oh--- my.”

Tink wondered for a moment what was so funny, then she started to worry about him dying from choking and laughter. “Let me... get you some water.” She said, crossing the room quickly to the water cooler to pour him a glass. She brought it back and held it out to him. It must have been something she said. Her cheeks went pink.

Billy accepted the water gratefully, and once the crisis was averted, he shook his head and had to stop himself laughing all over again. It was funnier that she didn’t have a clue, really. “That-- okay. Well. Uhm,” eye twitches, because what a horrible tick he had. “You have my number now. From the paperwork. So I guess... you can text when you’re free?”

“Oh, okay.” Tink said, giving him a grin. “I will. I mean, so long as I won’t be a bother.” Though, if he’d just invited her to text him, it wouldn’t be a bother, would it? She cleared her throat. “Yes, so. I’ll send you a note.”

“Great.” said Billy. And then he looked around, awkwardly. “So. uhm. Yes. My car is done, right?”

“Oh, yes. You have the keys,” she said, she’d handed them to him, right? “And you’re paid up, you’re good to go.” She gave him a smile. “I’ll text you.”

He looked down at his hand, to, well, yes, find his keys. He looked back up at her and gave a laugh. “I, uhm, am leaving now,” he said -- and seriously hightailed it, because he’d been brave enough for one day.