all my friends know the low rider (open)

[acuerdo]

CHARACTERS: Robbie Reyes and You
LOCATIONS: The Garage and Elsewhere in Town
WARNINGS: None at the moment but should that change, I will edit.
SUMMARY: An Open Catch All Log. Closed Starters in the Comments. If you would like a closed starter, or if you want to run something by me, as always, I'm available on plurk or discord (heatwave#1853)

[maybe you've seen the flyers up around town advertising the 19.95 cuddlebuck oil change special or heard the ecclectic mix of music from somewhere down the road. perhaps you need a new battery or maybe you're interested in some custom work — lights, exhaust, body work, or paint. whatever your reason for making your way to the garage today, you'll most likely find a shirtless robbie reyes with his head under the hood of some car. even though summer is quickly coming to a close, cadelle's warm weather hasn't let up, and the air conditioner is sadly out of commission.

maybe it's all that time spent with his roommate, but robbie's likely humming or quietly singing along as he's focused on diagnosing a problem. if he doesn't immediately notice your arrival, just give a shout. he'll be with you before long.

just... give him at minute to grab a rag and clean off his hands. no one wants a greasy handshake, right?]

Comments

[acuerdo]

You probably would. Is that a terribly disappointing idea?

[he's not displeased by the suggestion of going driving and finding that secluded location they'd visited just after the earthquake. robbie gives her hand a squeeze after making a show of thinking about it. ] A night with you in my car again? Sounds pretty sweet.

[recoined]

Good, ( is her only response, a warm smile a clear indication of how pleased she is at his agreement. they'll have a good time. there's no question of that, really. they always do, curled up together in small spaces, taking advantage of free time in the easiest possible way. but this will be different, too, and she can't help but feel a little excited about that. a picnic dinner, blankets and pillows spread out on the back bench seat, soft sounds of the radio playing — a little more intimate this time, maybe.

she's under no delusion that the windows won't fog up while they're out there, but... it won't be the only thing happening, and the realization pulls those butterflies right back up into her belly, giddy and excited.

kimberly lets the discussion drop for the time being, choosing instead to focus on completing the rest of their frames; they trade off one after the other as quickly as the pins reset, eager competition driving them through until the last frames complete. at the end of it, their scores are split, barely a few pins between them. it hardly feels fair to call it one way or the other.

from the bench, peering up at him from where she's bent over to untie her shoes, she offers, ) Call it a draw?

[acuerdo]

[as things tend to be with them in many other venues, they're quite evenly matched. the scores are close. there's no landslide victory. he watches kim begin the much welcome process of removing their bowling shoes and follows suit.

he's slipping on his well-worn skate shoes when he finally offers a reply.]

Yeah. Let's turn in the shoes and look for some creme brulee for you.