Bend and Break

The last few days, with a couple of bad races behind him, Falco had become noticeably withdrawn. On one day he'd been absent from the hanger entirely, which was unheard of. Now, as Slippy prepped Flying Fox for the race, Falco walked over to where Fox was waiting in the sunshine outside.
"This is a dangerous course, Fox." Falco said, standing with him, arms folded. "Especially turn five. You can take it fast in the sim, or when you're on the course on your own, but the track is short, everyone will be bunched up. Take it at a crawl. Someone's bound to fuck it up, be ready to get out of their way."
Fox raised an eyebrow at him. "Noted."
"Don't piss about. Get this one wrong and they'll be scraping you off the walls. Focus on getting to the end. You'll probably pick up points just for finishing."
Fox opened his mouth to say something, but couldn't quite think of a response. Slippy came over to them. "All set Fox."
"Right..." He said, the faintest hesitation in his voice. "Thanks Slip. See you at the finish line, Feathers."
Falco watched him go, frowning.

They took their places at the start line. Falco's poor previous races meant that Fox was close enough to him to be able to see into Runner's cabin. As the final seconds clicked down he tried to give Falco a thumbs up, but he was absorbed by something on his cockpit display. The lights changed, the barriers released them, and Fox shot forward. He was momentarily surprised when he surged past Blue Runner, he didn't have long to think about it though. The racers all bunched together as they stormed into the first corner. Fox and his company of racers got through unscathed although it was close, there were barely feet between the ships' wingtips. They jostled for positions, Fox was briefly in third, before being pushed back again. He swung out of turn four, then, almost before he could think, turn five was on him, a sharp narrow bend to the right. At the speeds they were travelling, it looked almost like a right angle. Up ahead, two racers were battling for position. Time seemed to slow down, they were so absorbed in their battle that one of the pilots anticipated the turn too late. Fox watched as the control surfaces on their pale green ship moved, but it was obviously too late. The ship slowed hard, but not enough. It slammed into the wall, sending pieces of metal and plastic flying out in all angles. The ship it had been fighting with rocked as it was sprayed with shrapnel. Fox had to stand on the breaks and throttle back hard to avoid being caught in the aftermath of the crash. He made it around the corner, but Flying Fox shuddered, its engine stuttering, objecting to the sudden loss of power.
Fox's comm cracked with an unusual signal. "I warned you, McCloud."
In his side cameras Blue Runner accelerated past him, as Fox struggled to regain control and momentum. Fox pushed Flying Fox forward again, towards the next obstacle.
"You don't fucking listen."
"Falco, get off this comm. You're distracting him." Peppy said, with real anger in his voice.
"I know." Falco said. "It's the only way to get him to slow down."
Fox realised it then, that he'd unwittingly backed off. He was so used to Peppy and Slippy speaking to him he didn't need to process the words; he could tell by the tone alone what they wanted. When Falco spoke, he had to pay attention, and that meant slowing down. Up ahead, two racers vying for a place took a corner badly, one smashed into the wall, and the other, close behind was taken out by a piece of its wreckage.
"Crap!" Fox said, turning Flying Fox to avoid the carnage. If he'd been going any faster, he'd have flown right into the crash.
"Jeez be careful." Peppy said.
Fox throttled back, a few racers whined past him, but he settled to a speed which he knew he could complete the course at, keeping well clear of the other racers. Even so, the race was a tough one, he broke out in a sweat, his hands slipping on the controls. His heart pounded in his chest. If he'd had time to think, he might have wondered if he was in over his head, but as it was, everything he had was focused on the route in front of him.

Ahead, Falco was now in the lead and free for the moment to take the course how he wanted, at least until he started lapping the stragglers. Season leader, The Dark Panther had taken one of the early corners of the race with too much confidence and damaged its engine. Its pilot was now flying the course at a snail's pace, being lapped by everyone, but it looked like they would finish. Falco just had to hang on to the lead for another three laps. As he swung into another turn, illuminated lights on the track guided him to bypass the tight chicane on an alternative route. That was a bad sign, a track change meant someone had crashed and hadn't been able to clear the course. Snatching a moment to glance at his displays, he saw that of the fifteen racers who had started, only eight were still operational. The track was a carnage of wreckage and damaged barriers.

Runner was cruising up a rare straight, Falco glanced down to adjust a setting-bang! He jumped, instinctively hitting the breaks. Runner began to vibrate. A low unsettling rumble at first, which travelled up through the seat and the control column into his hands and set his beak on edge. An alarm was beeping at the edge of his concentration. He'd either hit a piece of wreckage, or something had broken. Or both. The vibration continued getting worse, loud enough to rattle the cockpit displays. He crossed the start line for the last lap, frantically dividing his concentration between the displays and the course, desperate to see if anything could be done.
"Come on old girl." He willed the ship. He was still in first place and he'd be dammed if he was going to give it up without a fight. "Hold together a little longer."
The vibration intensified; the controls were becoming sluggish. The last thing he needed on a course like this. He swung the ship around the corners, taking them with the gentlest line he could manage, if not the fastest. The vibration reached a level that was almost deafening, evening out. Then as he entered the last corner something significant broke, and Falco lost control.

Had Falco left audio the connection to the Star Fox team open; he would have been able to hear Slippy screaming at him to stop, that the control surface on Runner's right wing had been almost sheared off by a stray piece of wreckage. That it was hanging on by a slither of old, worn metal and plastic hydraulic piping. In fourth place, Fox could hear all of this. The shriek in Slippy's voice, the quieter, but more unnerving note of fear in Peppy's as he spoke over the top of him. Up ahead he could see Runner's blue tail fins as it swung round a corner, its right side spraying hydraulic fluid across the track. Then, something broke off, spinning back and past him in a blur.

There was a screech of tearing metal, and abruptly, the vibration stopped. All in the same moment, Falco registered that the controls had gone so light as to be almost useless, that the engine was outputting un-equal thrust, and that if he didn't do something, he was going to crash. The last corner swung hard to the right. The damage to his ship was on that side, and the engine was sending all of the power to the port on Runner's left side. The airbrake pedals were stiff and only semi responsive. Without really thinking, he floored it. The thrust on the left side pushed Runner's nose round to the right, and Falco stood with all his weight on the airbrake pedal, whatever was left of it engaged and he managed to throw Runner round the corner. He crossed the line, still in first, more sideways than anything, and slowed almost to a halt.

There were no celebrations as Falco coaxed Runner into the hanger with the aid of a couple of tug drones but mostly through sheer force of will. It was a hollow victory. He knew there'd been injuries and Runner had taken significant damage. Anything he won on the race would go on repairs. He noted with relief that Flying Fox was following him towards the hanger, still running and apparently unscathed. As he shut the engine down, it clunked to a stall rather than winding down smoothly, Slippy ran up to Runner and sprayed fire-retardant coating on its right rear quarter. Auxiliary power dropped out with the engine, and Falco had to unlatch and force the cockpit open manually. He stood up and looked back at Runner's wing, the frame was intact, but a section of the control surface was just... gone.
"Are you alright?" Peppy asked, standing looking up at him.
"A little spooked, but ok." Falco said, jumping down.
When he hit the ground, he found his legs suddenly uncooperative. He staggered. He put his hand out and caught himself on Peppy's chest.
"Steady." Peppy said, grabbing his arm.
At that moment, Flying Fox reached the hanger. Fox jumped out as the engine whined into silence, pulling his helmet off. His face, as much as it could be when covered in fur, was ashen.
"Are you ok?" Fox asked, running over.
Falco looked him up and down. "I'm fine. Are you? It must have looked worse from where you were than it felt."
Fox glanced at Runner's damaged wing. "You couldn't hear us, could you?"
Falco realised that Peppy was still gently holding his arm. He stepped away slightly. "What, why would I be able to hear you?"
Fox shook his head. "That was some flying on that last corner."
"Yeah. Looking at the damage, I'm not really sure how I did that. I need a coffee, anyone else want one?"
"Got anything stronger?" Fox chuckled as Peppy nodded.
"Sadly not." He said, heading over to his kitchen.
"Coffee then."

Alone together, team Star Fox exchanged looks of both dismay and annoyance. Behind them, Runner sat on its landing skids slightly lopsided, leaking hydraulic fluid on the floor, hunkered down like a wounded, bleeding animal.
"He's going to kill himself." Peppy said, more to himself than them.
"That's looking increasingly likely, yes." Fox said, heading over to where Falco was making the drinks, his footsteps echoing against the floor.
"I hope he doesn't." Slippy said.
"Yeah, me too."

In the corner, Falco was waiting for the kettle to boil. There were three mugs out on the counter. Falco was leaning heavily against it, rubbing at the feathers on the back of his head, trying to rub the helmet marks out of them. The kettle boiled as Fox approached and Falco poured the drinks.
"Why did you do that?" Fox asked.
"Do what?" Falco said, handing him the mug.
"Help me, I thought you hated me."
Falco tsked softly. "Hate's a strong word McCloud. I don't hate you, you're not worth that much effort. I'm indifferent about you, but I like Slippy and Peppy, and they'd be upset to see you harmed."
"You could have killed yourself today."
"I didn't." Falco shrugged. "Racing's dangerous. That's just the reality. If you haven't got the stomach for it you should withdraw."
Fox paused, watching as Falco walked on and perched on Flying Fox's wing with the others, handing Peppy his drink. A queasy feeling swirled around in his stomach, Falco seemed not only indifferent to him, but also to his own survival. On another level he felt strangely hurt by Falco's words, a feeling he was both surprised by and struggled with. He looked down at the chipped mug. Why should he care what Falco thought? Then, he remembered the shriek in Slippy's voice and the quiet fear in Peppy's. Fox swallowed hard, his throat was suddenly tight with the same strangling lump that had gripped him as he'd watched Runner shatter on that last corner. They had all been terrified. And Falco had no idea. Worst of all, even if he did, he might not care.

The three of them called off in the hangar the next day. Fox had left his jacket there, and had failed to bring a spare down from Great Fox when he'd packed. While they were collecting it, Slippy wandered over to the other side. Falco was working on Runner, the radio on in the background as usual. The ship's right wing had been stripped back to the airframe, all of the damaged control surfaces were off and Falco was in the process of removing the hydraulic line to a point it could be repaired from. There was a distinct smell of the hydraulic fluid in the air. Falco's head popped out from under the wing as Slippy approached.
"You know that stuff's an irritant right?"
"Yeah." Falco slid out from under the ship and stood up, rubbing his back. He was wearing a stained boiler suit with more than a few holes in, but it would at least give his arms some protection.
"You've been busy." Slippy said, gesturing at the ship. "Were you here all night?"
"Yeah." Falco sighed. "I got a few hours kip though."
Slippy examined Runner's wing, while most of it was ready to begin the repair process, one of the panels on the underside was still in place that he would have expected to have gone.
"The support beam is all warped." Falco said, following his gaze. "It's too tight for the mechanical wrench and I'm not strong enough to get it off on my own... I lost my temper trying last night. I'll have another go later. If not, I'll have to cut it off and re-weld it."
"That'll create a weak point."
Falco sighed. "I know but if I can't get it off, I don't know what else to do. I need her ready for the next race, in time to do some practice laps."
Slippy tilted his head on one side. "Fox is strong, I bet he could do it."
"Fox isn't going to want to help me."
"Sure he will." Slippy said. "It'll give him a chance to show off."
Falco laughed slightly and shrugged a bit.
"We're going into town to do some shopping, you wanna come with us? Have a break for a bit."
"Sure, I need to go in and buy some parts. I'll walk with you as far as that."
"Great!" Slippy said, glancing across at Fox and Peppy, who were stood at the front of the hanger, waiting on him.
Falco went over to his corner taking the boiler suit off and Slippy was relieved to see there didn't seem to be any new bruises this morning, at least not anywhere he could see. Falco pulled his coat on and headed out.
"Lets go then."

Falco led them through the backstreets on a shorter, quieter route into the city.
"You've been here a while then?" Peppy said as they walked along together. Fox and Slippy were a few paces behind them, arguing good-naturedly about something.
"About three years all told." Falco said. "Mind your feet." He nudged Peppy slightly so that he didn't step in an enormous puddle. "Pavement's not so good back here."
Above them, Milwalk City's housing blocks crowded out the light. Strands of washing hung above them, strung across between the buildings, blowing in the wind. This was where the legion of staff who supported the city's racing and tourist industry lived and worked. The streets were quiet now, the main rush of people over for the day. Just as Peppy was starting to feel thoroughly lost, they appeared between two shops, out onto the main Highstreet.
"What were you guys wanting in town anyway?" Falco asked.
"Fox needs to buy some winter clothes." Peppy rolled his eyes. "That's it really. I think Slippy needs some stuff for one of his projects but I dunno, I don't ask because I probably won't understand the answer."
Fox and Slippy caught them up, blinking in the sudden brightness after the grimy backstreets.
"Hey look, that fountain is almost exactly like the one at the top of Corneria Grand." Fox said.
"Bit less clean though." Slippy commented.
Falco chuckled. "Huh, least no-one's thrown soap powder in it today. The bubbles were blowing into the shops the last time I was here."
Slippy and Fox both laughed. Peppy shook his head and looked at his comm.
"Shall we all meet back at the fountain about 1?" Fox and Slippy nodded at him. "Slippy, try not to get lost huh?"
Slippy pouted. "I'll be fine."
"See you later guys." Peppy said, as he and Fox headed off in the direction of the clothing district.
"What do you need Slip?" Falco asked, hands in pockets. "I need some parts, but I can do that later, figure if we're here I can always take you to where you need to be." He smirked a bit. "Put Peppy's mind at rest so you don't get lost."
Slippy recognised the playful note in Falco's voice. "Honestly he worries about everything. I need some parts too, so I'll just come with you. Don't really need anything else. I'll just waste my money if I go window shopping."
Falco shrugged a bit. "I dunno if the place I go will have what you need."
Slippy smiled. "It's just basics, c'mon."

Falco led Slippy along another rat run of small backstreets, heading towards the dirtier edges of the city centre. Eventually they came to what looked like a junk shop. Falco went inside. The place smelt of metal and engine oil. At the back, a personal transport was being worked on by a burly looking mechanic. A rough looking man sat in the corner glared at Slippy, and he stepped a little closer to Falco.
"Whada ya want Lombardi?" A man in stained overalls said from behind a counter.
Falco ran off a list of parts from memory in response. The man glared and slumped off into a storage area. Another big, dirty man came in, cursing under his breath between taking puffs from a cigarette.
"What da fuck you lookin' at slimeball?"
It was so rare to see anyone smoke, it had caught Slippy by surprise, he lowered his eyes. Falco gave the man a look that might have killed someone smaller, and he slunk off and sat on one of the few grimy seats that served as a waiting room. Falco took hold of Slippy's arm, and pulled him a little closer to himself.
"Got no hydraulic lines," the man in the stained overalls said as he came back. "Least not that'll fit your wreck. Phil's got some over at his place. Your skinny ass can't carry all that shit, you want it delivered tomorrow?"
"Yeah, but don't take the piss with any out of area charges again."
The man behind the desk smirked and chuckled in a way Slippy didn't like. "What's your prissy little friend want?"
Slippy went to speak but Falco cut him off. "Prissy friend is above this shithole. I'll take him somewhere where he won't have to repair the parts before he fits 'em"
"Don't be a choosey beggar, you cocky shit."
Falco checked a readout and waved his hand over the scanner to pay the bill. "See you later Coal."
"Try not to bin it on the next race."
Falco headed out and Slippy followed close at his side. "Oh, Coal it was almost like you cared."
"You won't be buying if you're dead."
"That was... interesting." Slippy said as Falco led them back along the side streets.
"Take no notice of them. They're big, smelly and they'd sell their own mothers for fifty credits, but they're harmless." Falco said. "I'll take you to get the parts for Flying Fox now."
Slippy didn't answer, he looked around. They passed a few more small shops. Falco glanced into a few of these, but they kept moving. He took them down another side street, and they emerged into a wider road, lined with showrooms selling low and mid-range ships and all of the associated stuff.
"Most of the racers use this one." Falco said, leading Slippy into a bright showroom. A pristinely dressed young man came over and greeted them.
"All yours Slip." Falco said, and wandered off.

The parts ordered, Slippy found Falco drinking a cup of coffee, sat in the waiting area, flicking through a sales magazine. The saleswoman had obviously decided everything was out of his price range and was ignoring him.
"All done?"
Slippy nodded. "Yeah, delivered tomorrow afternoon. I think we might have been going to the beach, but I'll come down."
Falco put the magazine back on the rack. "Don't do that, I'll be there. I'll take your stuff in."
"You wanna come with us?"
"Ugh no thanks. We're not big lovers of the water Avions, besides I have too much work to do."
"Not even to get out of the cold? It's so grey and miserable here."
Falco laughed. "Well it is the autumn. It gets quite hot in summer, and freezing in winter. This isn't cold. Anyway, Peppy won't want me dragging along."
"I don't think he'd mind."
They wandered back through the main streets now, heading back towards the fountain where they were to meet the others. They walked slowly, looking into the windows of the various shops.
"We're only going because Peppy wants a break from the track, and Fox gets bored easily. I like the water but I'd be content to stay and watch the training laps and work on Flying Fox." Slippy chuckled. "But then I'm weird."
Falco smiled. "You're not weird, just dedicated. You've found something you love and I envy you that."
Slippy glanced across at him. "Oh come on, I've seen your face, you love the racing."
"Sure, I love the racing, I just don't love the fight to keep it going." Falco sighed and Slippy kept quiet, not wishing to interrupt him. "It's a constant struggle."
"It must be hard, on your own."
"Tell me about it. I'm so tired." Falco said, as they reached the fountain again. "I don't understand Slippy, what are you doing here?" Falco asked, sitting down on the wall. With Falco sat, their eyes were almost level.
"What do you mean?"
"Racing, competing. You've got training simulators and Arwings. People die in these races, Slippy, all the time. Peppy obviously cares about Fox, why is he letting him do it?"
Slippy shrugged. "It was what Fox wanted and Peppy thought it would be good training. My brother was sorting mail in his office when he was killed. Lots of things are dangerous."
Falco rubbed his hand through the feathers on his head and his voice took on a softness Slippy hadn't heard before. "This is all so... pointless. Why... if he loves him, doesn't he stop him."
Slippy looked across at Falco, and he wasn't really sure if they were talking about Fox anymore. "Are you alright?"
"Yeah." he said with a slight shake of his head. "I just think Fox is insane."
"If you think it's that dangerous. Why are you doing it?"
"I've never found anything else I'm good at."
"You're good at mechanics, where did you learn all of that?"
"Books, online, just by doing it. I had no choice, I had to learn fast, getting someone in to do the repairs for me was just unsustainable."
"Where did you get Runner from?"
Falco glanced at Slippy, uncertainly then sighed. "The guy I bought her from just wanted rid of her. She was in one piece but not flying. I garaged her, repaired her, and converted her to be a racer."
"Did you do all that on your own?"
"Pretty much. When I first arrived, I did repairs and maintenance for Corneria Canix so I learned a lot from their engineer. I got them to list me as their reserve pilot, which meant I could take the ship out on tuning runs round the courses. Unfortunately, I got good, quickly. I was running faster laps than their pilot by the end of the second season, which of course pissed him off, so they dumped me. They paid me a reasonable wage so I had enough to buy Runner." He sighed. "No one will touch me as a mechanic now, they all think I'll sabotage their ships. I'm a dick but I'm not that much of a dick."
"I don't think you're a dick." Slippy said with a laugh.
"Well you're the only one, but thanks."
"You're just not the sociable type." Slippy said with a shrug. "That's ok."
Falco frowned. Something about Slippy's comment hit home with him. It had only been through watching Team Star Fox and having them around, that he'd really realised how lonely he'd become. He would miss them terribly when they left.
"Here come Fox and Peppy." Slippy said. "I hope Fox has bought another coat."
"Or some brains..."
Slippy laughed. "Do they sell those here?"
"Dunno, but if they do they'll be out of my price range."
Slippy waved as they approached. Fox had a bag from one of the mid-range clothing retailers on the main street, Peppy didn't have anything, except the remains of an ice-cream.
"Isn't it a bit cold for ice-cream?"
"Never!" Peppy chuckled. "On that note, I can't be bothered cooking. Where shall we go to eat?"
"You've lived here for a few years." Slippy said to Falco. "Any recommendations?"
Falco shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I tend to eat at home."
"You must know somewhere." Fox said.
"Well... there is one place, you might not like it, it's not fancy or anything."
"All the better, I can't stand that pretentious nonsense, its dark where it's going." Peppy said.
Falco laughed and got up. "C'mon then, I'll show you."

Falco led them off the main Highstreet of Milwalk city, down some side streets lined with the smaller independent shops selling a huge array of items, second hand clothes, herbal medicine, pawn shops. It was undoubtedly the poorer side of the city, but the streets were bustling with people still, young families, children, the everyday backwaters of the city, away from the tourist restaurants and high-end shops. Eventually Falco led them down an even narrower side street, and pushed his way into a small restaurant. A buzzer went off as he opened the door, announcing their presence. The smell of cooking meat assaulted their senses the moment they entered.
"Falco my man!" A huge vulgarian behind the counter said, looking up. The white stripe down the middle of his black face was dirty with the smoke from the grill he hovered over. "Long time no see! We thought you was dead, except we see you racing."
Falco laughed. "Hi Morris."
"You brought some friends!" Morris said cheerfully. He came out from behind the counter, wiping his hands on a towel. "Introduce me then!" He said, giving Falco a gentle shove.
Falco introduced them each in turn, and Morris shook their hands. He showed them to a table in the corner, and three of them sat down. Falco hesitated.
"Sit down, little one." Peppy said. "You'd better stay, we'll never find our way back without you."
"Little one?" Fox said, laughing loudly. "Are you blind Peppy."
Peppy shrugged and smirked. "Well, tall one doesn't have the same ring to it."
Falco plopped down next to Slippy and Morris brought them menus.
"You hear from Katt?" Morris asked.
"No. Not recently." He grimaced a little. Katt had worked at the pub when she'd been on Karasa, she and Falco had lived together, until she'd left with her boyfriend, it had been the best thing for her, they'd reasoned. They had emailed or talked weekly to begin with, then monthly, then her contact had trailed off. Falco hadn't heard from her for nearly a year. He hoped because she was happy, he feared it was because she wasn't.
"She's having too much fun being wicked without you!" He laughed.
"I hope so."
"What is all this?" Slippy asked, looking at the menu.
"Meat on a stick, basically." Falco said. "You just order the ones you want. Hope no-one is a vegetarian."
"Hell no." Fox said with a laugh.
"It's the sort of street food I used to get back on Avion. Order whatever you like, it's all good."
"What you drinking?" Morris called.
"Four beers?" Peppy asked.
"Not for me, three beers and the usual, if you can remember what that was." With the amount of repairs Runner needed, Falco would have to work tonight, he needed to be sober for that.
"Of course. Coming up."
Morris brought the drinks, and Peppy ordered a mixed platter for everyone. When it came, Falco didn't think he'd ever seen so much food. Certainly he hadn't here. There seemed to be mountains of it. He picked up one of the sticks. He pulled at it with his beak, enjoying the sensation. This sort of food suited his physiology, and was difficult to get in most places. Eating with the Star Fox team was a messy, rowdy affair. Fox and Slippy squabbled over their favourite things, Peppy refereed, and Falco just sat and watched, fascinated.
"Eat some more, before Slippy does." Fox said, jabbing him in the arm with the end of one of the sticks.
"Yikes! He's like a machine." Falco said, taking another of the bigger offerings dipping it in a sauce. He was actually hungry for a change.
Slippy stuck his tongue out at him and poked him with the end of one of his sticks.
"What is this? Poke Falco day? Leave me alone you pair of bullies!"
They both laughed loudly at that. Falco scowled playfully and put his arm round Slippy's shoulder, pulling him into a headlock, and rubbed his knuckles across the top of his head.
"Get off! Get off!" Slippy squealed.
Falco let him go, as Fox descended into laughter. "Don't think I won't do the same to you McCloud."
"Like to see you try, Feathers."
"Eh, you're too far away." Falco said, sitting back, going back to his food.

Falco watched them. The three of them chatted and argued and teased each other good naturedly. Falco picked absently at the rice and vegetables Morris had brought out to accompany their meal. Feeling always on the outskirts of their world, but wishing he could break in.
"Sixty credits for your thoughts." Peppy said, watching him.
"I was just wondering how many more of those Slippy could eat without exploding." Falco said.
Peppy laughed. Fox and Slippy were currently engaged in a mini sword fight with their discarded sticks.
"He certainly has a healthy appetite."
Falco picked up one of the few remaining items, the others hadn't really touched them, but they were one of his favourites, the meat was rarely cooked and came apart in fleshy strings. He pulled at it absently. A thought hit him with the force of a brick wall at racing speed. Stars he was going to miss them when they left. Slippy had become his friend, Peppy was so kind as to be almost otherworldly, and even Fox was beginning to grow on him.

A while later, with the plates cleared away, the four of them got up to go.
"Bye Morris!"
"Don't be a stranger now, Blue."
Peppy paid the bill for all of them with a wave of his hand. Slippy and Fox took no notice of this, they were engaged in a conversation about their favourite hoverbike racer.
"Thank you." Falco said as they went outside.
"Thank you for joining us." Peppy said, smiling. "It was good to have your company."
"Do you have a favourite hoverbike racer?" Slippy asked, interrupting them.
"Not really, I don't get time to watch. I used to have a bike on Avion though. Stars I miss that thing."
Fox raised an eyebrow, possibly impressed. "Peppy won't let us have one. Flying death-traps apparently."
"Oh they absolutely are." Falco said, leading them back towards the race yard. "Friend of mine came off one, killed outright."
Falco carefully left out the bit about how they'd been running from the police at the time.
Peppy winced. "See!"
"Must have been fun though!" Fox said, "Uh, up until that point."
"Oh, it was... Closest thing to flying we could get. They aren't so bad now with all the safety kit. I didn't even have a helmet on the day Wintu died."
"That's one hell of a risk to take." Peppy said.
"Didn't really think about it at the time." They were now back on the street leading towards the race hangers. "Well I'm going back to the hanger to do some more work, so I guess I'll see you guys later then."
"Slippy said you needed a hand with something." Fox said. "May as well do it now. If your parts are coming tomorrow you can get started in the morning then."
"Oh..." Falco said, surprised. "Yeah, ok thanks."
Slippy gave them a wave, and he and Peppy turned off down the street. Fox and Falco headed for the hanger in a comfortable silence.

There wasn't much room under Runner's wing. Fox slid under, tools in hand and Falco wriggled under next to him.
"Which bit am I undoing?" Fox asked, squinting.
Falco leaned across him to point. "Sorry...Those two bolts there."
Fox reached in and began working on the bolt. "What are you apologising for?"
Falco shrugged. He was very aware how nice Fox smelled, of warm fur, clean clothes and lavender, and that he on the other hand, hadn't had a shower for a couple of days, had been wearing the same jumper for a week and that all that was lightly marinating in hydraulic fluid. Fox got the tool round the first bolt and strained against it, he grunted and it didn't move. Fox tried again and Falco put his hand up to brace the panel. With that, the bolt began to turn. Falco's arm was now in Fox's way, he paused, panting, resting his head back onto Falco's shoulder instead.
"Sorry." Falco said, using his other hand to try to take the weight of the panel. Fox just laid there for a moment.
"I said I'd help you. Why do you keep saying that?" Fox asked, a note of annoyance in his voice. Falco didn't respond. He didn't like imposing his body on other people. That tended to be something they did to him. Fox squirmed a bit, bracing against the bolt, and it came loose. The panel shifted and Falco took its weight. Fox grinned, and pushed the bolt out.
"That's one." He shifted further under Runner, his shoulder and head against Falco's side. Falco now had half the weight of the panel, so couldn't move out of his way. Fox started on the second bolt. He grunted, paused, then tried again, and the bolt came loose. He shoved it out, it landed on the ground beside them with a light clank. Fox sighed, panting slightly, and laid back, resting his head on Falco's chest. For a while, he just stayed there. It was a weird moment for Falco, although it lasted only a few seconds. Then, Fox shifted and wriggled out. Once clear of the wing he took the weight of the panel and Falco shimmied out behind him. Together they pulled the panel off Runner.
"Thank you..." Falco said.
Fox nodded. "We're away for a couple of days again, see you when we're back."
With a swish of his tail, he went out.

He jumped awake, startled by a presence near him. Someone was stood at his sink, filling his kettle.
"I'm making you one too." Peppy said. "You were out of milk but I bought some.
"What time is it?"~
"About half ten." Peppy got some mugs out of Falco's cupboards. "Slippy is about to start angle grinding, so I thought I'd better try to wake you up."~
Falco glanced across at his computer. He'd been running diagnostic tests on Runner's repairs. He'd set them up first thing, and laid down for what he'd thought would be a five-minute break, only to wake up several hours later.
"Slippy said it had finished, so he started the second cycle of tests for you." Peppy shrugged, pouring the drinks. "Hope that makes sense to you."
"It does." Falco swung his legs out of his cot, and pulled a hoodie on.
Peppy came over and handed Falco a drink, sitting cautiously on the cot next to him, which squeaked in protest. If it were possible, it looked like he'd lost more weight.
"You look like shit."
It had been a rough couple of days. "I think I'm starting a cold."
"You got time to take a break?"
Falco sipped his coffee. "Not really. I went out and did a practice run last night, but it was dark by then. I need to do some more to make sure nothing's going to shake loose."
"Any insights into the course?" Just for a moment the cot tipped them together and Falco's arm rested against Peppy's shoulder, he lent some of his weight against him for a while, then somewhat reluctantly shifted away. That cry for help again, that always went unvoiced.
Falco shrugged. "It's not like the last one. Relatively straightforward, there's plenty to trip a rookie up, but nothing worrying from my perspective."
Peppy smirked. "Any advice for a rookie?"
"Tell him not to lose focus because the track is simple on plan. He still needs to learn it, and not let his attention wander. On a track like this one, it's always the easy corners people bin it on, because they've under-estimated it."
Peppy nodded. "Thank you, I'll warn him."
"Nice time at the beach?" Falco asked, warming his fingers on the mug.
"Yeah, you could have come with us."
Falco smiled a little. "Thanks, but I'd never have got the work done if I had. Another few good races and I might get second or third for the season."
Peppy sighed and sipped his coffee. "I'll settle for everyone in one piece at the end."
"That would be good too, yeah."