The skimmer bay was alive with sounds of machinery echoing along the halls; the reverberation of an occasional hum of a crystal convertor, the trill clicks of a hand wrench against bolts, the shuffling of fabric as the young mechanic shifted beneath the heavy skimmer.
When the doors slid open and closed and footsteps approached him, Junko slid away from his work on his back and looked over his choice of equipment before turning to the half apologetic half eager face of Finn. Almost reluctantly he asked, "How is she?"
Junko shrugged, "The steering system has been sheered in half and most of the circuits are fried from the explosion. It'll take a while to fix, and I'm gonna have to disassemble your spare again." He suddenly adhered an amused grin, "How did you do this, Finn?" He gestured to the gutted convertible, a sad sorry state and the small tinker in Finn cringed at the sight of it.
Still, he grinned at the Wallop, flashing his customary finger-twin pistols and characteristic grin. "It's a talent."
Junko rolled his eyes, leaned on his back with a new wrench in hand. "Almost as talented as your guitar playing?"
Aware of everyone's distaste in his ingenuity, the sharpshooter suddenly possessed a flat look. "Oh, funny guy, huh? Well I suppose a proper analogy would curb closer to a certain Wallop's culinary arts."
The insinuation wasn't hard to follow, but it was strange hearing it from a supposedly not well-read idle teenager. Junko couldn't help the countenance that formed next: deeply dumbfounded.
Finn smirked. "Didn't see that one comin', did ya?"
"Not from you." He resumed working.
Everyone knew the marksman spent more time than anyone at the radio. But Junko was the few among the inhabitants who was aware that, besides listening out for certain attacks on undefended terras or commentators on his favourite sports teams, there were times when Finn couldn't do anything but listen to what was on. News, music—parts of books or recent discoveries—it made a well-rounded ideology.
Of course, he didn't flaunt it.
"Do you think we could stop by Terra Tasty on our way to the Skyside Shanty?" Junko suddenly asked.
Finn was about to give another smart-ass reply before someone said from behind, "Sorry Junko, that's on the other side of the Atmos." Piper greeted them both with a brief smile. "How's it coming along?"
"I've had easier tasks," Junko answered.
What does she care about my skimmer? Finn kept his thought to himself, thinking them unnecessary, but the impulse undeniable. Unknowingly he glared at the girl and she almost glanced back—but he evaluated the state of his skimmer again before he could be sure of that.
"I've got to say Finn," she commented, "You're an excellent shot—especially when your skimmer's the target."
This time, he flat out glared at her and she only laughed, heading towards the decks.
"How is it she always gets the last word?" Junko joked.
Finn smiled evenly and knowingly. "How else? It's a talent."