A/N: Another short establishing chapter. I hope you, as the reader, will begin to pick up on little inconsistencies with Cam's character - if I'm doing my job right. I dropped in some hints in chapter 1 & 2, and a subtle note in here. All will be revealed in good time! And I do promise chapters will begin to run a lot longer.

Reviews would be lovely.

The door jingled.

"Oh, um, hi there. Can I help you find anything?" A young, bookish girl looked up shyly from behind the counter, adjusting her wire-rimmed glasses as she spoke. The frames seemed entirely too large for her face, and Cam didn't think they were honestly the most attractive style, but damn if she didn't have a cute smile to make up for them.

"Nah, just browsing," he replied.

"Okay, sure. My name is, um… Katy. Let me know if you need anything."

"Sure thing, darlin.' Name's Cam, nice to meet you." He smirked silently at the furious blush that rose up on Katy's cheeks, especially when he threw in the little name. Cam liked to imagine he was something of a modern day Jimmy Cagney – maybe even Burt Lancaster or James Dean – all swaggering with his imitations of the classic macho men of American cinema.

He walked over to the paper section, admiring the ornate covers of spiral-bound books begging to be filled, and the slick surfaces of packages of looseleaf sheets. Everything was sorted by weight and purpose. Watercolour, oil, pencil, acrylic. Cam selected a small sketchbook, matte black cover, and moved an aisle over to find some pens.

Calligraphy pens were his favourite because of how an imperceptible flick left or right transformed the flowing line. He knew there were probably other art supplies better suited, but he'd grown up sneaking his mother's writing pens and sketching with them. She'd always yelled but never really meant it. She framed his drawings and put them on display all over the house, proudly naming the artist whenever guests asked.

The sketchbook fell to the counter with a satisfying leathery plop. Two pens clinked together on top. Cam shuffled them towards Katy's register and looked at her expectantly. She held his gaze, brown eyes wide and nervous, seemingly uncomprehending.

"How much do I owe ya?" He smirked, again. Cam knew he probably drove people crazy with that self-satisfied grin, he'd been told so in fewer words before, but he couldn't help it. Katy's face flushed a deeper red than before – Cam hadn't really thought that possible – and she stuttered a reply that wasn't actually words as she entered the prices on the stickers into the till.

"That'll be $15.75," she mumbled.

Cam slid a twenty down. As she placed his items in a small plastic bag, he examined the receipt. Katy had taken twenty five percent off his bill.

He accepted his change and dropped it all into a jar labeled 'Tips'. Cam left with a casual, 'see you around.' He could practically hear the blush rising up on her cheeks again. The door jingled as it closed.

Teller-Morrow was bustling when Cam arrived to check on the status of a certain beat-up old Ford. Yesterday the only garage staff had been Opie and Juice – he already had their names memorized after hearing them once – and Gemma in the office. Evidently that'd been a quiet day, compared to this.

He spotted them immediately. Opie was handing over the keys to the same silver Camry he'd been working on before to a stooped old man who attempted to pat Opie on the shoulder, but only really reached his elbow. Juice was feigning hitting another man – grey goatee and scarred cheeks – with a large wrench, both of them laughing.

Gemma's distinctive high heeled boots were clicking his way, and Cam noticed – not for the last time – how she seemed to tower over him even though he was still an inch taller.

"Truck's got a few issues," she explained. "Opie can go over it with you, but I'm just warning you, it ain't gonna be cheap, darlin.'"

Cam shrugged. "Haven't really got a choice."

She gave him a look of understanding and pointed over to Opie, who was in the process of gently closing the driver's side door for the stooped old man and nodding goodbye.

Cam strode over, hoping he looked confident, and trying to hide the grin that threatened to crack his face in half. He introduced himself and shook Opie's hand, who led him over to a bay where his truck was parked.

" – several issues –"

Attention was something hard to keep a hold of – Opie smelled like sweat already, even though it was only ten am, and deodorant that was probably marketed as being alpine fresh. Charming was a fuck of a long way from any ski hills, that was for damn sure. A mechanical scent hung heavy in the air, though Cam wasn't certain whether it was just the shop or the grease and motor oil that streaked Opie's blue work shirt. Perhaps both.

" – clutch is blown –"

Fuck, he was perfect. Everything Cam wanted to be and everything Cam wasn't. Those arms looked like they could pick his skinny body up and break him over a bent knee.

" – two weeks delivery –"

Opie's eyes were a curious mix of greens and golds and browns, surprisingly gorgeous spheres that didn't seem to match the gruffness of the rest of him. His nose was slightly bent at the bridge. Cam wondered if someone had broken it in a fight – he wouldn't be surprised if the other guy came out of it far worse than just a busted beak.

" – almost be cheaper to buy a new truck –"

The mechanical terms rattling around, names of parts and suppliers and problems, still weren't registering. Cam knew he should be listening but instead he was simply nodding along, just often enough to keep Opie talking.

" – and Gem can set you up with a payment plan if it's gonna be an issue."

Cam was in the middle of admiring the way the tattoo on Opie's neck ate up into his beard and wishing he could grow one when it registered that Opie had stopped talking.

"Um, what?" he said stupidly.

"I was guessing this is going to run you about eight hundred, and Gem can set you up with a payment plan if you can't pay that in full," explained Opie.

Eight hundred was about five hundred more than Cam had to his name right now – it was definitely going to be an issue. The bulge of bills that normally seemed so prominent in his back pocket suddenly felt feather-light. "Yeah, okay. I'll talk to Gemma about it. Thanks, man."

Opie shook Cam's hand and walked off, already focused on the next customer. Cam sighed. It was easy to pretend in his head that he could fit in here, but in reality, men like Opie wouldn't give him the time of day unless it was counting towards their paycheck.

Cam stopped in at the office before leaving the lot, paid up the seventy-five for the tow and forty for the inspection, and informed Gemma he'd have to use to the payment plan for the rest of the truck repairs.

Later that night, as Cam lay in Adelaide Park again, he wondered how far he could get from Charming in two weeks time without paying the promised eight hundred bucks. He didn't like to cross a man like Opie, and definitely not a woman like Gemma, but Cam was good at escaping searching eyes.