Even in Cardiff ,,,(open)

[patrickwinter]

It was Patrick’s first day in this new city; in fact one could say he literally just arrived in the area. On arrival the first bad omen struck him with his faithful scooter ‘Dodger’ deciding it needed something done to it. What that was exactly he didn’t know, he was in no ways a mechanic after all. The Second bad omen was the fact the local car Mechanic had gone out for lunch, still it could be worse, and he did fancy a good old pint to relax.

Coffee was for working days and it was not like he could do anything just at the moment, besides not helping out the local community’s economy in this time of tax would just be plain rude. Looking around after of course parking his scooter, he slung his world belongings contained in his backpack onto his back and walked into the nearest bar. Good thing about his Scooter was that it looked like crap, but usually ran like a charm, no one with sanity or a sense of value would try to bike nape ol ‘Bodger’.

Pat had chosen to opt out of going to the popular brand bars; please you could visit somewhere like that anywhere in Britain. Finding The Gatehouse bar, a bar with local character, which is just what the Dr ordered. The Bar itself was nice, the staff were lively. Pat could even ignore some of the locals looking to see the new face like new creature at a zoo, no Pat seemed engrossed in his pint and a book called ‘Metamorphosis – a compendium of folk law and Faye folk of the British Isles’. The book was written in Gaelic but that was not a problem, taking a manly gulp of his ale he continued to read.

He paused his reading for a brief moment when he felt a rather large ‘ping’, easily enough placed to a local man with a wedding ring telling an attractive lass he was single. Pat smirked in his mind, some things never changed no matter where you went.

[alex]

Alex hadn't exactly been having the best day either. Nothing major; just tediousness followed by annoyances. She had suffered through a morning of oil changes and small fixes, half-hoping someone would manage to total their car. Serious crashes were tragic and all that, sure, but they were awesome for work. If only Alex was that lucky enough to get a complete wreck. All in all, it had been a typical day--boring fixes, but enough of them to keep her too busy to work on a pet project. Ah well, there was more profit in little things anyway. It would keep the boss happy, and that was an important thing indeed.

Still, Alex was more than glad to take her lunch break. The food she had left in the mini-fridge had mysteriously disappeared--she suspected Terry was the culprit, even if he hadn't been in for a few hours--and so she hurriedly closed up the garage. Alex gave a mental grumble as she put out the 'lunch break' sign. Definitely wasn't her day. She'd have to start packing things her coworkers wouldn't eat--salads, maybe, or Indian food. Ah well. Even if she hadn't planned on eating out, it kinda sounded like a good idea.

The Gatekeeper was one of Alex's typical haunts, being close enough to the mechanic's to walk, and fast enough that no one would miss her. They made a decent sammich, too. A pint sounded nice, but Alex knew from experience that it was a bad idea. She was enough of a lightweight that a single drink was a drink too many for wielding power tools. Alex winced faintly in memory of the event. She wasn't sure which had been more painful, the embarrassment or the resulting burns. Either way, there was little desire to repeat the event. She'd save the beer for after work.

Taking a seat at the bar, Alex ordered her lunch. Just being here made her feel a little less grumpy. The pub was busy, considering the time of day--mostly with people in for lunch, but there were more than a few drinks scattered about. She eyed one wistfully. ~No,~ she chided herself. ~Bad greasemonkey.~ A man sidled up next to her, and Alex was glad enough for the company to flirt back at him. Besides, it was flattering, and she liked being called pretty. And as the man pointed out, he was single...

[patrickwinter]

The Bar had started to liven up a bit which was actually a good thing, and to be honest this pub was just like a local in England. Well it would be if the locals used a north west accent and not a Welsh on, beggars could not be choosers though. And unlike the Southerners these people seemed to have a sense of humour, there was a time for the great English stiffer upper lip, but sadly bars and movies made by Americans where not places for this stereotype. Finishing his first pint of pale ale for the day off he considered getting a new one, paying his attentions back to the bar and by proxy the blonde lass and her would be suitor. It was amusing that people still did the old trick of ‘drop my wedding ring in pockets’ often played by grease-monkeys and other men / women who had grease access. Not that It was Patrick’s business, but he figured breaking up this masquerade up would be the nice thing to do.

The problem would be executing this strike just right, the wrong approach would simply just fail that and maybe get him punched, which was bad. Still Pat had an idea what to pull off, he needed a beer after all which of course meant going to the bar. Also working to his advantage was the factor that the football was on the telly with a rather active group of in pub watchers, the team playing was Liverpool FC but that was fine, Pat could pretend he liked the Liverpool based team. Operation ‘beer crime’ was now in action, to put it quite simply ‘single man’ was lacking in pockets. This could be seen with the fact his only two pockets where bulging with items such as wallet and phone, things he did not want to keep wet. If they came out of his pocket, so would the hidden wedding ring. Waking up to the bar he ordered a drink, apparently more interested in the game then any conversation in the pub.

Abruptly out of the reaction to a referee decision against Liverpool FC, Pat waved his arms cursing the Ref. The aggravated wave had its desired result, with the wasted beer cascading onto the so called single man’s lap and bulging pockets. This of course followed with the man trying as fast as he could to empty his denim jeans, out came a phone, keys, wallet, smokes, lighter, and a very elaborate expensive looking ring that had blatantly chosen by a female with some care.

Pat Quickly turned from where he had been watching his game, his face wore surprise and shock mixed with a hint of regret. “Sorry Mate” he stated seeing genuine using the bear mats to clean up the beer residue on the table and passing him a bar towel in an apparent panic. “Let me get you a drink as an apology” he added showing no bad intent and no sign of flirting just seeming want to make things better. All this time however the elaborate ring and the wallet with what looked like photos peeping out the top had been left in front of Alex.

[alex]

Alex's sammich had come, and she was nibbling on it contemplatively as the guy--he introduced himself as Ron--told her about his wonderful job. Truth be told, the game on TV was substantially more interesting, but she'd hate to hurt his feelings. She nodded at the appropriate places, but her eyes were a little glazed over. Alex wasn't trying to be rude, but he was boring. There was a pause, and she realized he had asked a question. About her line of work. Well, he asked for it. Alex mentioned that she was a mechanic, and watched with some amusement as it became his turn to look interested. Good--she didn't want to shut him down, but he really wasn't her type. She'd have to mention something about theoretical physics, just to make sure he tuned her out. It worked fairly well, and Alex was pleased with herself.

There was a dumb call on the soccer game--no, she needed to call it football now--and Alex groaned inwardly. Someone sitting nearby did considerably more than that, and poor Ron ended up with a lapful of beer. Alex covered a laugh unsuccessfully. She grabbed another towel to help clean up the mess and offered her condolences, still snickering inwardly. How embarrassing. Her eyes slid past the items Ron had shoved onto the bar, and she froze. It wasn't the ring that gave her pause, nor the family pictures peeking out of his wallet. She didn't really notice those, or connect them with the obvious meaning. It was the car keys. She knew the model those tags belonged to. "oh god," she started blankly, "You're the owner of that Sunbeam, aren't you?" She had noticed the horrid thing outside the bar when she came in, and even then it had been worthy of a head shake. It was, to her, a much worse accusation than cheating would have been. Looking for a new relationship was excusable. Driving that wreck of a car wasn't.

Alex gave Ron a surprisingly affronted glare as he stammered out an excuse. "No, I don't wanna hear it," she replied levelly. "I don't care if it's because you wrecked your BMW. I'm not talking to you if you drive that thing. Just...no. Shoo." Flapping a hand in dismissal, Alex went back to her lunch. Ron scurried off to the bathroom, presumably to hide his shame and clean his pants. Freakin' men, and their dumbass cars. No wonder she liked chicks better.

[patrickwinter]

Pat watched the exchange from the beer from a mild corner in his eye whilst ‘watching the game’, Returning to his attentions to the pint he just had and the game. The good news was he had found his mechanic, it would have the ginger with a bad car had been occupying her lunch break against her will. The poor dear, but hey he had more of an excuse now not to feel bad about the whole beer crime. The lass had been spared the stalker and Pat might get a repair done today, everyone won in the end. Well spare the wet lapped guy who just got spat out by Alex.

Finishing his pint he gave her time to eat, before speaking up in a calm manner. “You’re an auto mechanic right?” He asked in a casual none hitting on manner. “I have a vehicle that needs fixing if your schedule is free today” The English man said politely and too the point. “Some time after your lunch break of course” he added with a hint of warmth in his voice.

[alex]

Alex had given a brief snicker at Ron's retreat, but had otherwise put him out of her mind. She kinda felt bad for him, even if the Sunbeam was scorn-worthy. But what was she going to do, apologize? It wasn't likely he'd come back, so there was no point in lingering over it. Instead, she returned to the more pressing issue of her lunch. She ate leisurely, watching the football game. Liverpool was up again, thankfully. Alex didn't really follow teams, but it was always fun to pick sides. Looked like it was finishing, though. She should probably get back to work soon, there were still some minor things waiting for her attention. Besides, no one else was watching the shop--would be a shame to miss a customer.

Beer Guy came over, and Alex was puzzled for a moment. Had he arranged the accident so he could hit on her instead? No, that was ridiculous. It would be a dick move, and besides, it was unusual enough for one guy to be hitting on her. Unless she was out clubbing, two would be unheard of. His question cleared her confusion up, and she nodded in response. So he'd just overheard, that was fine. "I'm just about done here," she replied quickly. It was mostly true; there was only a little bit of sandwich left. Besides, she'd rather be doing some real work than sitting around the pub. "'Course I can. Should have some extra time right about now, even. Well, as long as it isn't an oil change." She answered with an easy smile, inviting him to share the joke with her. She was so freakin' tired of them.

[patrickwinter]

Pat smiled at her, this time his smile seemed more honest then before. To be fully truthful he liked her style, maybe not her plumbing but that was another kettle of fish all together. Pausing for a moment, he thought of the right response. “Well hun” he began “ Think of this job as a museum dig rather then an oil change” he said with a glint of humour in his eyes. “It might be best if I buy you a drink first, you know so you don’t die of laughter first” he finished with a joke, and at the same time a serious offer. “He chuckled about something, “Besides” he finished off “Its not the KC of jobs either, just that bad of one” he confessed taking an manly drink out of his pint.

[alex]

Museum dig? Alex snorted, but was clearly as intrigued as amused. She'd seen plenty of cars that needed excavating from mounds of rust and mouse droppings. Disgusting, yes, but remarkably commonplace. Well, it was more that she ended up seeing a good deal of them, 'cause no one else in the shop would touch that kind of wreck. Alex looked at him sidelong for a second when he mentioned getting her a drink. Was he hitting on her? No, she decided after a second, just being friendly. Trying bribery too, maybe, but there was nothing wrong with that. Alex shook her head regretfully. "Gonna have to turn the drink down," she apologized. "If this is half as bad as you say it is, well, ah..." Alex winced faintly. "Let's just say that alcohol doesn't mix well with welding. Yes, that's personal experience talking." Granted, she had a few gadgets now that made it less of a problem than it used to be, but still. Accidents happened.

Alex polished off the last of her sandwich and soda before looking back to the guy. "So where is this dinosaur," she asked cheerfully, "and what exactly do you want done?" Poor car probably needed to be hauled out of some garage and power-hosed before she could get anything done. At the very least, it would need some rust removal and general maintenance. If the shell was in poor repair, everything else was likely to be, too.

[patrickwinter]

Finishing the rest of his drink pat smiled, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you” he Joked. He left his place motioning for her to follow. Opening the door of the bar he led her to the car park, in the car park was a rather old but mode scooter, “Welcome to Jurassic park also known as Buster” he joked “Feel free to get the laughter out now” he added expecting her to laugh at his old reliable.

Pat looked quickly at the roof, he was sure he was being watched. But when he looked up nothing was there. He tried not to react to the fact the Guiniss sign in the bar was flickering, hoping the young mechanic had not noticed he would have to look into this later . “So” he began “think there is hope for her” he asked.

[alex]

Alex followed Beer Guy into the parking lot eagerly. He was promising a challenge, and she just had to make sure she lived up to it. Not that there was really any doubt. She was ridiculously overqualified to work on any car. Well, maybe not the flying variety. She'd have to make one of those sometime. She wasn't, however, expecting the scooter before her. It was a good thing he gave permission to laugh, because there was no way in hell Alex was keeping it in. "Damn," she commented, impressed. "This thing was running this morning?" Well, she considered, he never did say car. And this certainly needed the work.

Kneeling down by the poor scooter, Alex dug out her laser pointer. It was her special one--ridiculously large power cells, green and red modes, and an adjustable laser intensity. Great for pointing out things of interest, lighting dark spaces, and melting titanium. Could do some nasty things to people, too, if it was turned up all the way. She set the beam wide and low, using it for illumination. One of these days she'd get around to carrying a real flashlight, too. She peered into the scooter as much she could, without fully opening it up. "She's in surprisingly good condition, actually. Better than the shell looks. Still, it definitely--huh." She broke off her train of thought as her light flickered. That shouldn't happen. She had charged it just two weeks ago, and there was no way her work was to blame. She tapped it against the scooter, and it returned to normal. Better.

"Anyway, where was I? Oh right. There's a few things that could be the cause, or will just make it break down again in a month or so. Probably better to get to them all now." There was the light again. What the hell?