Daryl frowned and ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair as he surveyed the engine of the crapped out Camaro before him.
"The fuck have you done to it now, Jimmy?" he said to thin air as he tried to work out what the hell was wrong with the car this time.
Jimmy Trickett's Camaro ended up in the Dixon's repair shop at least twice a month. It was the biggest piece of shit in town, and Daryl had to wonder why Jimmy didn't just cut his losses and get a new fucking car.
He groaned and grabbed a socket wrench, leaning over the engine bay and getting to work. This was more often than not the only way to figure out what was wrong with this particular car. Take eveything apart and try and find the broken thing. His brother knew it, which was why, every time the Camaro came through the doors, the task fell to Daryl. As far as Merle Dixon was concered, he had better things to do with his time.
As if reading his brother's thoughts, Merle chose that exact moment to appear around the corner.
"You finally up, huh?" Daryl asked, unable to keep the accusatory tone from his voice.
Merle cocked an eyebrow.
"Don't you cock a fuckin' attitude, boy." he told his baby brother. "You wasn't the one with some hot ass bouncin' up and down on your piece all last night, was you? I'm fucking wrecked."
Daryl rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, my heart bleeds for ya, man." he told his brother sarcastically. "You gonna help me out here or what?"
Merle shook his head, not surprising Daryl for a second.
"Sorry baby brother." he said, his tone contradicting his words. "I got-"
"Other shit to do." Daryl finished for him somewhat bitterly. "When don't ya?"
Merle narrowed his eyes.
"What did I say about that attitude, boy? Check it, now. Else you gonna end up chokin' on ya teeth."
Daryl scoffed, knowing his big brother's threats were empty. Since they were kids, Merle had always been there. Even after their mother died and their piece of shit father lit out for a better life, Merle had taken his brother under his wing and kept him looked after as best he knew how. There was no way Merle would ever do him harm.
"So what you got on today, then?" Daryl asked, cocking his head towards his brother as he went back to work on the Camaro.
Merle sighed.
"Jason quit." he said simply, causing Daryl to stop what he was doing once more and turn to face his brother.
"You fuckin' serious man?" he demanded. "That's bullshit, we can't run this shop with just the two of us!"
"There's still Mikey." Merle pointed out, causing Daryl to snort scornfully.
"Yeah, useless as tits on a fuckin' bull, that boy is." he remarked.
Mikey was only seventeen, and was their unofficial apprentice. They paid him a pittance and, in return, the kid barely ever showed up for work. And when he did, Daryl wished he hadn't. Every instruction just seemed to go in one ear and blow straight out the other.
"Don't worry yourself, boy." Merle told him, opening the bar fridge they kept in the garage and pulling out two beers. "I got someone coming in today. We'll see how he goes."
Daryl straightened up once more and wiped his sweaty brow on his bare forearm, sticking the socket wrench into the pocket of his grease-stained jeans. He turned to his brother and accepted the beer he was being offered, leaning against the car and taking a deep swig.
"Who you got?" he asked, curious as to which piece of scum from the local bar Merle had dug up this time.
"Ace Hatlin." Merle replied as he leaned up beside his brother.
Daryl frowned.
"Never heard of the guy." he said simply.
"I ain't either, but I was talkin' to Jase down at the bar last night. When he quit he gave me the name and got in contact with the guy. Set up for him to come down and show us what he's got. Apparently he just blew in from Atlanta, lookin' for a job."
Daryl nodded absently and opened his mouth to ask what time this new guy would be here, when he was interrupted by the clearing of a throat from somewhere behind him.
The brothers turned around to find a pretty girl leaning against the frame of the garage door. She had long, dark hair that hung in loose curls to her waist. She had deep brown eyes set into a soft, round face with a button nose and full, pink lips. She was wearing what had obviously been an old Motorhead shirt at one point. It hung from one of her shoulders and it had been cut down to reveal her midriff, fraying material escaping the garment onto her toned abdomen. Her long legs were encased in Daisy Duke style shorts, and bikers boots that ended mid-calf.
Daryl watched as his big brother's face lit up. He rolled his eyes. Here we go, he thought. Another girl about to fall victim to Merle Dixon. Daryl honestly had no idea how his brother did it. He certainly wasn't the best looking guy, and he treated women like shit, but he always seemed to have them falling at his feet.
"Well hello, sugar." Merle drawled, his mouth stretching into a wide smile. "How can I help you this fine mornin'? Havin' car trouble?"
The girl cocked half a smile.
"No." she told them, her southern accent evident, though nowhere near as strong as Merle's. "Jason Bird called me last night, said y'all might have a gig for me down here. You Merle?"
The brothers' jaws dropped.
"You're Ace Hatlin?" Merle demanded.
The girl nodded.
"Yup."
Silence prevailed for a few moments in the garage. Merle looked outraged, while Ace simply stood there looking bored, as though she had been expecting this. A couple of times, her brown eyes locked with Daryl's baby blues and she shot him a small smile. He looked away quickly, keeping his face impassive.
Finally, Merle spoke.
"Wait here a sec." he told the newcomer before turning on his heel and stalking off into the tiny office he kept at the back of the garage.
"Look man, you either got a job for me or ya don't! I don't got all day!" she called after his retreating back, recieving no answer as he slammed the door.
She sighed and turned to Daryl.
"He on his rags?" she asked, exasperated.
Daryl bit back a laugh, not meeting the woman's eyes.
"I... uh... I'll go see what he's..." he trailed off, somewhat pathetically.
Daryl Dixon never did know what to say to a woman. At least, not without a few beers in his system. He quickly turned on his heel and followed Merle into the office, leaving Ace standing by the door, thoroughly confused.
"I don't give a fuck, man!" Merle was screaming down the phone at who Daryl could only assume was Jason. "You sendin' a fuckin' girl into my shop for a job ain't no fuckin' joke!"
Daryl watched as his brother fell silent, not looking happy in the slightest.
"Yeah, whatever ya say, man." he conceded finally. "But if this don't work out, it's on you."
And with those final words, he slammed down the phone and looked up at his brother.
"Jase says she fixed his bike up for him a couple of times while he was in Atlanta." he told the younger man. "Claims there ain't no better motorcycle mechanic in the state."
"What about him?" Daryl asked with a chuckle.
"He leaves for Texas tomorrow. Got a better offer." Merle said regretfully. "He swears up and down this girl knows her shit, but I ain't buyin' it. The fuck kinda girl knows as much as a man about motorcycles?"
Daryl shrugged.
"Couldn't hurt to give her a chance."
Merle shot his brother a venomous look.
"What? You got some other brilliant mechanic shoved up your ass?" Daryl defended himself. "Cause if you don't, it don't look like we got a whole lotta choice, brother."
Merle sighed and ran a hand through his hair.
"Alright, fine. I'll put her to work, but you keep a fuckin' eye on her." he agreed grudgingly before his face split into a grin. "Who knows, baby brother? Ya might even get this girl to go to bed with ya! She looks the sort who's into desperation."
Daryl grimaced, and shrugged off the heavy hand Merle clapped down on his shoulder as he walked past him and out the door. He quickly follwed his brother back into the garage.
Ace was exactly where they had left her, leaning against the garage door, her arms folded across her chest, an impatient look twisting her features.
"Alright you, over here." Merle demanded.
Ace gave a triumphant smirk as she stood up and crossed the garage to where the brothers stood.
"This is the motorcyle mechanic's bay." Merle told her. "This here Harley belongs to a friend o' mine. Pull it apart, figure out what's wrong with it and put it back together by the end of the day, and you got yourself a job."
She gave a curt nod and moved over to the bike, dropping to her knees beside it and grabbing the toolbox sitting near the rear wheel.
"You right to hold down the fort here, baby brother?" Merle asked Daryl as they watched her get to work. "I gotta zip into town, pick up the new gas tank for my bike."
Daryl nodded.
"Yeah, I got it." he said, turning to go back to the Camaro.
His brother caught his arm.
"That can wait." he told him in a low whisper. "Watch her."
Daryl shot a glance at Ace, who was hard at work taking Johnnie's Harley apart.
"Alright." he told Merle.
His brother shot him half a smile and gave a nod of farewell as he left the garage.
Daryl grabbed another beer from the fridge and pulled up a stool in the motorcycle bay, sipping from the bottle as he watched Ace work. Minutes passed in silence and, before he knew it, she had the bike in pieces before her.
"You got a name?" she asked suddenly "Or ya just gonna sit there and stare at me all day and not say anything?"
Daryl jumped, taken aback by her blunt tone and take-no-prisoners attitude. He fought to keep the blush out of his cheeks, but he was sure he failed. Not that it mattered. She hadn't once taken her eyes off the task before her to turn and look at him
"Uh... Daryl." he said finally, feeling like an asshole.
She didn't reply for a few moments, busy checking over each individual part on the ground in front of her.
"You Merle's brother?" she asked eventually.
"Yeah." Daryl replied lamely, having no idea what else to say.
"Guy seems like a jerk." she stated matter-of-factly, finally turning around.
"He's alright." Daryl insisted, coming to his brother's defense as he always did. "Just gotta give him a chance."
Silence fell again, but only for a few moment until it was broken, this time by Daryl.
"You figured out what's wrong yet?" he asked her, taking another swig of his beer.
"Yup." she replied. "Ain't nothin' I can fix, though."
Daryl raised an eyebrow.
"If you can't fix it, ain't exactly gonna inspire Merle to give you a job." he pointed out.
She turned back to face him, a small smirk playing on her lips.
"All I meant is that it ain't nothin' mechanical." she clarified. "Somebody pissed in the gas tank. Fuel's contaminated. No wonder this bike wasn't goin'. Gas tank just needs a cleanout, and maybe some new rings. I checked the valves, and they're fine."
Daryl laughed in spite of himself. Johnnie Sims was an okay guy, but he found it difficult to keep his fly zipped. Other guys wives and daughters were all his to-do list consisted of, and it wasn't the first time he'd gotten his gas tank pissed in as a result, nor would it be the last.
"Sounds about right." he said, still grinning. "Alright, wash that tank out and get that bike back together before Merle gets back."
He put his beer bottle to his lips and drained the dregs before standing up and crossing back to Jimmy's Camaro.
"How'd you figure out the tank had been pissed in, anyway?" he called over his shoulder. The alcohol was beginning to take effect, and his confidence was beginning to rise.
"Don't take a genius. One whiff of the gas tank told me that wasn't gas."
Daryl chuckled to himself as he took the socket wrench out of his pocket and bent over the engine bay of the Camaro once more. He heard Ace begin to flush out Johnnie's gas tank before sitting back down next to the bike to change the rings. The time passed quickly and, before long, Daryl heard Merle's bike pull up outside. His brother's voice carried over to them, along with that of another and Daryl could only guess that Merle had brought Johnnie back with him to check on Ace's progress.
"How's it hangin', baby brother?" Merle crowed as he entered the garage with Johnnie waddling along behind him as fast as his short, fat legs could carry him.
"A little to the left. Needs some adjustment." Daryl replied, forgetting for a moment that there was a female present.
"Jesus H, Merle!" Johnnie exclaimed. "You got a fuckin' girl workin' on my bike! You taken leave of your damn senses!?"
Merle ignored his friend as he crossed to the motorcyle bay and knealt down next to Ace as she finished bolting the gas tank back on.
"You figure it out, Princess?" he asked, his tone dripping with condescension.
Ace grabbed the oily rag from over the handlebars and stood up, wiping the grease from her fingers.
"Yup." she replied, standing her ground and looking around Merle to Johnnie. "This your bike?"
Johnnie merely nodded.
"Well, as pretty as your chrome cap is on your gas tank, I'm gonna recommend one with a lock. Someone siphoned you and swapped your fuel out with piss, man." she told him simply. "I flushed it out and replaced the rings. Just gotta fill her up and take her for a test to make sure she's running right."
Johnnies's face flushed beet red, while Merle struggled not to look impressed. Daryl watched carefully from his bay. If Merle didn't give the girl a job after this, he'd have something to say about it.
"I thought that might be the problem." Merle admitted reluctantly after a moment. "Just wanted to see if you'd pick it up. Good job, I suppose. You want work, you got it."
Ace glanced at Daryl over Merle's shoulder, and he shot her a congratulatory smile. He liked the girl. She didn't talk much and she knew her way around a bike. It had to count for something.
"Thanks." she said. "When you want me to start for real?"
"Right now." Merle replied. "You know cars?"
Ace shrugged.
"A little. Bikes are my strong point, but I know enough about cars." she told him. "Why?"
"Get over there and help Daryl out. That fuckin' thing's in here all the damn time, and we never know what the hell's wrong with it. Two sets of hands will get it sorted faster than one."
She nodded and made her way around him to where Daryl stood at the hood of the Camaro.
"C'mon, Johnnie." Merle beckoned his friend into the office. "I got a bottle in the back with our names on it."
Daryl watched his brother go before turning back to the car, where Ace was already bent over with a socket wrench. As he turned, he couldn't help but stare at her rear end. He was a straight, hot-blooded male, after all. He bit his lip when he noticed how her shorts rode up when she bent over the car, the curves of her ass on show.
"Found it!" she proclaimed, making him jump for the second time that morning. "Whoever changed the oil last didn't screw the sump plug back on properly. It's leakin'."
Daryl sighed.
"That'd explain why Jimmy said the whole fuckin' thing just seized up on him." he said, more to himself than to her as he bent down next to her. "C'mon, lets get some fuckin' oil in this thing so he can come get his piece of shit outta my garage."
Short first chapter, but I hope someone's diggin' it. I've got this posted in a couple of other places as well, and I'm really anxious to see how it does here. I'd love some reviews, especially those with any pointers/tips/constructive criticism. As a writer, I endeavour to do my absolute best on every project, and it always helps when people point out things I could improve on! Let me know what you guys think!