When she pushed the doors open, she was slightly unnerved to find him watching her with that same expression. "You all right?" She asked.

He grunted, then replied, "Don't know why all of you are being so nice to me. I don't deserve it. After all, this was all my fault." He replied, gesturing to his injuries and cringing at the resulting pain.

"We couldn't have just left you to die. That's cruel." The pair were silent for a minute, then Foxy spoke up again. "You said that this was all your fault? How?"

"I started the fight with those tuners."

"The DRH?"

"No, a different gang. Not these morons."

Foxy's expression darkened when he called The DRH morons, but she didn't say a word about it. "What were you all fighting about that they beat you up this badly?"

"My being a bus, a gas guzzler, and the lowest of the low."

"Who told you that?"

"I did, when I got out of the orphanage I was placed in."

"That's awful!"

"You think that's the worst of it? Try keeping enough money on tire to get fuel every week and a coffee every few weeks. Try having no place to call your own, and no steady job because no one wants a bus working for them."

Foxy was speechless, opening and closing her mouth soundlessly. She hadn't expected this much fury from the bus when she had entered.

"Yeah, you heard correctly. So don't sit there and tell me that it's 'awful'. What you should've said was 'every day sounds like a living hell to go through.', because that's what it feels like. A living hell." The bus looked down at her, the one muddy, dull brown eye that was functioning watching her for a reaction, his frown deepening.

"Who are you?" She asked after a long silence.

"Bus. Just Bus."

"No, I meant for real."

"Bus. I was never given a proper name, so I named myself as soon as I was sure what I was."

"Well Bus, you've convinced me."

"Of what?"

"That you need a place with plenty of coffee, a good home, and cars who don't judge you."

"When did I ever say that?"

"You didn't. The way you explained your life, it sounds like you need a home. I've got the perfect one in mind."

"Yeah? And where is this 'perfect home for a worthless being'?"

Foxy gave him a gentle glare. "You're not worthless, and you're in the clinic of said perfect home."

"I find that hard to believe."

"I figured you would. That's because Doc likes to keep these curtains closed. Me, on the other hand…" With that, she pulled up the blinds with the cord, letting the light filter in. "There. Now take a look for yourself."

Bus took a quick glance out the window, then returned to his own dark, depressing thoughts.

"Look again. This time, I want you to tell me what you see."

He gave her a glare, which she returned. He sighed after a glaring match, then looked outside. "I see… lots of buildings. Cars over at the one that looks like a gas station. A giant rock formation behind the building at the end of the road. A giant tower of tires. A statue in front of the building at the end." He looked to her again, an eyelid arched. "Are we finished here?"

"No. You touched upon it, but that was it. Those cars? They're all welcoming. They're also drinking plenty of coffee. They're also happy." That last sentence seemed to touch a nerve with Bus as he gave her a small snarl, paired with a growl. "Go ahead and growl at me. I really don't care. In fact, I'll growl right back. Hell, if you really make me mad, I know plenty of German curses."

He blinked once, confusion settling into his features slightly. The snarl faded, and he looked down at her with a slight peak of interest. "German curses? What do German curses have to do with anything?"

"They're useful for hurling at anyone that makes you mad, and you can't beat on them. I just prefer German since I'm mostly German mixed with Polish and Hungarian, and I don't know much Polish."

"And you didn't try to kill me why? You've got the perfect opportunity."

"I wouldn't kill you. Heck, you could probably flatten me without trying."

"Great, another reason I'm hard to like. I'll flatten anyone that tries to do anything."

"Oh, stop. I didn't mean it like that."

"That's what it sounded like."

"I'm sorry. I really didn't mean it like that."

Bus grunted, then looked to her again. "So, what are you again? I mean, I see ears and a tail, so you've got to be some sort of animal, but I've never come across one that could talk. And curse in German." He asked, arching an eyelid slightly.

"I'm not just any animal. I'm a human. It's an otherworldly version of a car, I guess. Except we've got cars that don't talk, or move unless the humans want them to. I've got ears and a tail because I came up with… an alter ego, if you will, and it's a fox with human characteristics. The legs look like a human's." She gestured to her jeans. "The arms and body structure are like a human's." She demonstrated this movement by cracking her spine, bending over backwards. "The only thing that's different is we've got ears, a tail, and paws or whatever. I don't have paws for two reasons. One, it looks sort of silly. Two, I think it would be a little hard to pick things up if I wore paws all the time."

"So, you pretty much think of yourself as a fox-human hybrid thing?"

"No, that's how it would be drawn out. I just thought having ears and a tail would make it easier for the others to pick up on my emotions. That, and I needed some sort of camouflage to blend in at races, even if it's a pretty flimsy disguise."

"Interesting." He replied, even though it didn't seem too interesting to him at all.

"Most cars find it a bit more… intriguing, to say the least…"

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not like any other car."

"Yeah, I sort of figured that out."

Doc rolled into the clinic, carrying a can of oil and covered in a layer of dirt. He blinked in surprise at finding Foxy and Bus apparently talking freely.

"Doc, you're covered in dirt."

He blinked again, then looked down at his hood. "Yeah, that happens, Foxy."

"You look like you've been rolling in it." She gave him a teasing grin, an eyebrow arched.

He just waved a tire at her with a roll of his eyes and rolled past the two, going to his garage.

"He's no fun to tease anymore now that he's used to it." She grumbled, and heard something she thought she'd never hear out of Bus: a chuckle.

"Could be why he's no fun."

Foxy looked at him in confusion.

"As in, 'you tease him too often'?"

"Yeah, I guess so. He's retired from racing."

"HEY! What did I tell ya about usin' that word?!"

Foxy giggled as Doc's defensive shout came from his garage. "What word?" She taunted, giving Bus a grin. He chuckled again, enjoying this more than he thought possible.

"That 'r' word!"

"Racing?"

"No! Retired!"

Foxy's laughter rang through the clinic and his garage, and he scowled, setting the can down on a counter in a free space as he grabbed an old rag to get rid of the dust and dirt that covered his frame. He reentered the clinic a few minutes later, having gotten most of the dirt off.

"Why don't you like that word, Doc?" Foxy asked, trying not to grin. She knew the answer already, and just wanted to tease him.

"Because it means 'old'! I am not old!"

Foxy didn't respond, and instead just began smiling, trying not to laugh.

"I'm not!"

"I'm not laughing at that." She replied, seeing that he had dirt going in a line up and over his hood, right in the center.

"Huh?" He looked down and noticed the strip. He sighed, then went to grab the rag again.

Foxy exploded with laughter, tossing her head back.

"Come on! It ain't funny!"

"Yes it is! You look like you tried to give yourself a brown racing stripe!" She squealed, still giggling.

He grumbled, then tossed the rag at her. "Fine. Then ya do it, since ya think it's hysterical." He replied, and she shrugged.

"Okay, no biggie. If you wanted me to do it, you could've asked ages ago." She replied nonchalantly, wiping the dirt away on his hood first.

He glared at her, but said nothing.

She started with his roof next, swishing the rag this way and that to get rid of the stripe. Finally she got down to his trunk, and that was when the dust caught up with her. She sneezed once, the force of it sending her flying backwards, where she landed on her rear end.

Doc began laughing at her, and she gave him a glare.

"Cut it out!" She exclaimed before promptly sneezing again, managing to shoot herself back a few feet. This only made him laugh harder, and even Bus was chuckling from his spot on the lift. She sneezed again, and it sent her backwards into the wall.

"Yer done now." Doc told her, still laughing slightly.

She gasped, feeling the need to sneeze again.

Doc began laughing again at her facial expression, her mouth wide open, tongue curled up and one eye squeezed shut. She sneezed once more, looking and sounding like a horse as she sneezed downwards, shaking her head at the same time.

"Bless ya, Foxy."

She sniffled, then shook the rest of the dirt out of her hair. "Thanks, Doc." She stood up, then tossed the rag onto his hood. "Your stripe is gone." She replied, earning a look before he turned and went to put the rag away, shaking his hood and mumbling about 'crazy humans' and how he managed to get stuck with one that was so taunting. Foxy smiled fondly as she listened, knowing that he found her highly amusing. "Now, where were we?" She asked, looking at Bus.

"Dunno. So, you're really a human?"

"Yeah, I'm a human. Why aren't you more surprised?"

"They sing about humans all the time in the stuff I like."

"What types of songs?"

"Don't Fear the Reaper, AC/DC, that sort of thing."

"Ohhhh, you're a classic rock fan! So am I!"

"Really? Favorite song?"

"Definitely Moneytalks or Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap."

"I like you. And that's saying something, since I tend to either ignore or hate everyone."

"I'm honored." Foxy replied, giving him a smile.

He watched her intently for a minute, then he slowly matched her smile, looking completely out of his element.

Foxy giggled, and the smile was gone in an instant.

"What's so funny?"

"You."

"Me? I'm boring and depressing and aggressive. I'm not funny."

"No, you're definitely funny. Not aggressive or boring." She replied, walking over to his side. "Hmm…" She began walking around to his right side slowly, and continued to his back. She completed her slow circuit around him by coming up his left side and stopping in front of him. "You're pretty badly damaged, apart from what we had to fix just to get you to wake up and be somewhat competent."

"I figured, given the fact that I can't move without a bolt of pain going straight through a tire or whatever."

"Hmm…" With that, she was underneath him on a crawler, oblivious to his eyes widening. "Well here's your problem!" Her voice came out from underneath his front, and he sighed with relief. "Your axle's bent! Man, those thugs really did a number on you."

"That's from years ago, I just never got it fixed." He replied hesitantly, and she rolled out to look up at him, still on the wheeled board.

"Why not? Ohh right. Never mind." She gave him a sorrowful expression, then returned to her previous spot.

He was unnerved by her nonchalance at being underneath him, and remained still, unsure what her intentions were.

"Where's Foxy?" Doc had just entered, and was now looking around the clinic. He took in Bus' stiff, unsure expression, and chuckled. "She does it to every car that comes in here. You've got nothin' to worry about."

"Oh yes he does! There's plenty of things wrong here from his fighting!" Her indignant voice sounded from underneath Bus, making Doc chuckle. "Hey, Doc. that is you, right?"

"Yeah, who else would it be?"

"I dunno, Sheriff trying to sound like you to screw with me?"

Doc chuckled again, then asked what she wanted.

"A wrench, and the socket set."

"A wrench. A wrench. There's over twenty wrenches here, and ya want a wrench. Not one wrench, but A wench. I ain't a mind reader, kid. I thought I trained ya better."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry! I'm not sure which one I'll need. How about… one of every medium-to-large sized wrench? I'll have to eliminate which one works, and which ones don't."

Doc chuckled, then passed her a wrench.

There was a pause, then she rolled out, shaking her head. "Too small."

He handed her another, and she darted underneath Bus again.

"Hmm…" Was heard, then an exclamation. "This one!" She called, making the two males chuckle.

"Glad to help, Foxy."

"I should be saying the same thing to you, Doc."

"Darn right ya should."

"Oh, go talk to Sheriff. I'm working, and listening to you laugh at me isn't helping."

"Ya sure?"

"Yes, I'm completely sure. I know where everything is by now."

"All right, ya know where I'll be.."

"Yes, I do, goodbye." She replied, making Bus and Doc chuckle.

Doc left shortly, and Foxy continued working. "Jeez, what did they do? Roll you over and beat you up from the bottom up?"

Bus made a noise, and Foxy rolled out. "I'm serious. Did they?"

He gave her a look, as though saying, 'What do you think?'.

"I'll take that as a yes." She sighed, then went back to work.

She continued working for the rest of the day, and only stopped when Doc chased her out, telling her to go get some sleep or a coffee. Reluctantly, she went over to Fillmore's for some sleep, and Doc watched to make sure she wouldn't try sneaking back in. "She's got plenty of will to work, it's gettin' her to stop that's the problem." He chuckled, seeing Bus watching the doors with a confused expression.

Doc went to bed shortly after, but Bus remained awake for a long time, thinking over the day in his mind, and how he had acquired his first real friend.

It still puzzled him, how he had made a friend so quickly, and without wanting to. Most cars ignored him, some even attacked him, but not her. She was different. Completely different. She seemed like she wanted to be around him, to talk to him, to help him. This was what puzzled him. he had been in an orphanage from the time he was a few hours old until he was ten, and even then, he wasn't treated with kindness, just because the car that ran the orphanage had too many children to take care of there. He remembered the day he ran away, not looking back once at the dull, gray, faded and run-down building that had been his place of living for ten long years. From there, he had lived the nomadic lifestyle, seeing the rest of the country, and how cold and heartless every car was becoming. His attitude had quickly changed to reflect that, and if a car wanted to fight him, he would fight, no matter if he won or lost. He did it to prove that he didn't care, that he was just a hollow shell, that he didn't care if he lived or died. He had come extremely close numerous times, but had hid out until the pain went away. After that, he had moved on, heading to another town, where he would do the same thing all over again.

He emerged from his thoughts gradually, and sighed, trying to fall asleep. It took him a long time to fall asleep, as it normally did. Too much thinking, and worrying, and planning, and… and… Whatever else there was that kept him awake, he couldn't tell, because he began to drift into a doze, the quiet of the clinic drastically different then the noises of the other cities he had been in. His doze deepened, until he was finally in a deep sleep, something that rarely happened to him. He had taught himself how to doze lightly, to avoid being ambushed and attacked by any car that would try to destroy him, since he was a gas-guzzler. At last, all was silent in the clinic, and throughout the town.

All that remained was the lone yellow traffic light, the middle light flickering on and off, on and off, on and off.

For those of you who have been asking about why Foxy thinks of herself as a Fox, and similar questions, I hope this answers your questions. :)

So, we get to find out more about Bus' life before Foxy and Doc found him. Seems like he's had it pretty rough. and even at the orphanage. The real reason he escaped when he was ten wasn't because the orphanage was overflowing with children, it was because the owner wasn't paying him any mind, although he assumes that it was his fault.

So, will Foxy be able to win Bus over, or will he disappear, just another being who thinks he's worthless to the world? Find out next chapter!