Sam and Alison in the garage

[x-cannonball.livejournal.com]

Sam is out in the garage changing the oil in his truck when Alison comes back from a shopping trip. There is some vague flirting and casual fluffy discussion, and they're both a little awkward in places due to mutual attraction that they're both totally clueless over. Oi. :)

Sam whistled a snatch of a Clint Black song to himself as he puttered
around under the hood of his truck. It was past time to change the
oil, and while he was at it, couldn't hurt to just check the state of
everything under the hood. He wiped a hand on the beaten jeans he
kept around just for when he was working on the truck and lay back
down to slide underneath.

The sound of the sports car coming up the drive way echoed in the
distance, although it didn't take it long to enter the garage,
steering neatly into place in the usual parking spot. After sliding
out, Alison reached inside to pull out a few shopping bags before
closing the door with a cheerful whistle. The keys jingled lightly in
her hands as she started towards the door leading into the mansion.

Sam figured that whoever the driver of the sports car was (and his bet
was on one of the ladies, from the rustling of the shopping bags), if
they needed him, they'd let him know, so he continued puttering away,
whistling idly as he drained the old oil from the engine.

Between the sound of her heels on the pavement and the crinkling of
the bags, Alison heard whistling resonating through the garage, echoes
bouncing ever so slightly. She knew that whistle. After only a
moment's hesitation she diverted her path, heading towards the back of
the garage instead, circling the truck in the back to lean into sight
of its owner. "Hey there!"

Sam barely managed to avoid hitting his head on the undercarriage of
the truck, though he did drop his wrench in surprise. "Hey, Al," he
responded. "Wear out the magstripe on your credit card yet?" he
teased.

Alison snickered, resting the bags on the floor before leaning on the
side of the truck, skirt swishing lazily around her thighs. "There's
not even a scratch on it yet and I've had it for over a year. How
wrong is that, huh?"

She eyed the wrench, noting that some of the oil was spread on it, and
gave Sam an entirely unapologetic look. "Had a manicure. Will not risk
it." She winked in something of an apology, grinning cheerfully. It
had been a good day.

Sam chuckled. It never failed to amuse, how one minute Al could be
kicking butt and holding her own with any of the males, and then she
could turn around and be so very feminine. It was one of the things
he lo... liked about her. He leaned over to retrieve his wrench, and
recapped the valve before sliding back out, wiping his hands on a
dirty rag. "Glad to see ya so happy and cheerful," he said with a
smile.

Oil and skin and the lighting and that was very much with the unfair.
Eyes flicking back to his face, Alison kept the smile steady however.
"It was nice to get out," she admitted, even if she had used the
inducer. "I've been staying more locked in here lately. Figured I
should work on that – and I usually go shopping with Lorna, but she
was busy." With Alex. Alison shook her head, rolling her eyes in
amusement.

Sam nodded. "Ah noticed she and Alex seem to be doin' better again.
Ah hope they've managed to fix whatever was makin' em both so
miserable," he said, not looking to gossip, because that would be
rude, but just concerned for the well-being of friends.

"They've worked it out," Alison nodded, sighing in mock relief. "Shiro
and I were very pleased with this." And that was enough said about
people who had broken up getting back together again, she decided
abruptly. "Just usual maintenance or problems?" she asked, peeking
under the hood.

"Usual maintenance. Ah realized Ah hadn't changed the oil in a while,
so Ah figured Ah'd do that and check to see if anythin' else needed
fixin'," Sam replied. "But she looks to be purrin' like Mr. Marko's
kitten." He patted a possessive hand against the front bumper.
"That's mah baby." He paused for a moment. "Actually, Ah was
thinkin' about askin' Cyclops if Ah could help out with drivers' ed,
seein' as he made that post lookin' for volunteers," he said
thoughtfully.

"That's a good idea. You'd be great with the more nervous kids," she
answered automatically. And then frowned at him sternly. "And was that
a crack about my driving skills, mister?" She planted both hands on
her hips, tapping her foot and waiting for his answer none too
patiently. An act, but hey, she was having fun still.

Sam attempted to keep a straight face, but it only lasted for a few
moments before it dissolved into a case of the chuckles at the look on
Alison's face. Sam knew her well enough to know she was putting up a
front, but it didn't stop a fleeting thought about how beautiful she
was when she was cranky. "The joke was just beggin' to be made, Al,"
he said.

He looked good like this, she reflected idly, satisfied for some
obscure reason. "It was not. My driving is impeccable. I aced the
advanced driving classes and you know it." But a smile was tugging at
her lips as well and it was all more show than anything else. And the
spot of engine oil on his cheek was staying right where it was.

Sam snickered. "Ya only managed to pass the advanced driving class
because ya managed to find some hidden well of self-control. Ah've
been on the road with you, Miss Alison Blaire, don't think ya can fool
_this_ country boy."

A near feral glint appeared in her eyes and she grinned wickedly. "If
they can't take the heat, they can stay off the road," she purred. The
advanced driving classes had been fun and she remembered them
only too fondly. No police officers to annoy her endlessly. Nearly
free rein to do what she wanted. Pure fun.

Sam stretched and chuckled. "Me, Ah think you're just lucky that state
troopers aren't immune to the Alison Blaire Googly Eyes of Doom." Of
course, not many people were. Especially not Sam. If she turned them
on him, he expected that he would be liable to melt into a small
puddle of country-boy goo right there on the garage floor.

Instead, she just made a face at him, sticking her tongue out briefly.
"Nyah!" She leaned down to pick up her bags, before giving him a
jaunty wave. "Well, my and my googly eyes of doom are going to try on
this new skirt. I'll leave you to the truck and the icky oil." She
winked at him, playing up the part of the fashion plate to the hilt.

Sam barely managed to restrain a strangled noise at watching Alison
leaning over. He shifted slightly. "Uh, see ya later, Al," he
managed before scurrying under the truck again to hide the dazed
expression on his face. He was _definitely_ going to need a cold
shower when he finished in here.