It was a little known fact that the towering apartment building in 'Fix-It Felix Jr.' had a basement workshop. And even lesser known that its superintendent, who was gifted with a magic hammer, actually used it from time to time.
But Tamora knew.
Smiling, she leaned in the doorway, having just come down the stairwell to find it propped open. Beyond the smell of old lumber was the more familiar scent of oil and machinery. The sergeant paused to take it in, and reopening her eyes, found that Felix had stopped what he was working on to look at her.
"Hi," he smiled, happy he'd caught her in that brief moment.
"Mmm, smells like a fresh Cy-bug kill in the morning," Tamora said, letting the slight embarrassment roll off her shoulders.
"Does it?" the handyman chuckled, removing a pair of safety glasses from his face as she approached his workbench. Already standing on top of a stool, he seized the opportunity to kiss her cheek.
"Mhm," wanting a little more, she briefly captured his lips. "What are you working on?"
"Oh, just cuttin' some keys. Lotta new ones to be made on account of East Niceland opening up soon," he sighed, plopping a freshly cut copy into a box on the table. Tamora watched as an idea dawned on the handyman's face. He smiled up at her, clearly up to something.
"Would you like to try it?" he asked.
"Looking to pass off the work, are you?" Tamora scoffed, then laughed as Felix played up his innocence. "Sure, I'll give it a whirl."
"Great!" the handyman grinned, pulling out and twirling his large ring of keys. How he kept track of them all remained a mystery to the sergeant as she watched him flip through and select the one he wanted.
Tamora leaned in as Felix placed the key he'd selected into the left hand slot of the cutting machine and turned a knob to tighten it down. Grabbing a box of blanks, he held it up to his lady.
"Pick one," he said.
They all looked the same to her, tiny and golden. To humor him, she did a little digging before pulling one out. He instructed her to place it in the right hand slot of the machine, and she mimicked what she had watched him do tightening the knob on the front.
"Perfect, now put these on," he handed her a spare set of safety glasses and flipped a switch. "Watch your hands."
The machine hummed to life, the cutting wheel starting to spin. Gently Felix advised her, talking her through the steps and occasionally guiding her hand with his. Slowly but surely, she was cutting her very first key.
"Beautiful!" he spoke reverently as he turned off the machine and removed the piece she just cut. "Now all that's left is to smooth it out. I'll do that for you since you're not wearing your gloves."
He turned back on the machine, and she watched him curiously as he ran the key's edges along the deburring brush. Once he was happy with his handiwork, he once again flipped the machine off, and blew off the dust.
"Perfect," he said as he looked it over.
"Yeah?" Tamora couldn't help but feel some pride. "So who's key is it?" she asked, not really expecting the handyman to slake her curiosity.
"Yours," he said so simply that she thought she might have misheard. "It's to my— our apartment, if you'll have it."
Tamora blinked as Felix tenderly placed the key in her hand. Slowly her mind started going blank, unsure of what to do; what could she possibly say?
"Tammy?" Felix brushed his knuckles against her forearm, the sensation reeling her back in. "You with me?"
She nodded, looking down and realizing that at some point she had clutched the key to her chest alongside her Dog tags.
The handyman continued to run his hands slowly up and down the lengths of her arms, a bittersweet smile crossing his face when she managed some eye contact.
"I'm sorry if that was too much," he said.
She shook her head. "Don't. Don't be sorry," she insisted, pulling him into a hug.
Fully coming back to the world around her, she opened her hand to look at the gift she'd been given. No. The gift she'd been cleverly tricked into giving herself.
"Pretty slick, Pint-size," she chuckled.
"It was too good to pass up," she could feel his smile as they still held on to each other. "I love you, Tammy Jean. At the end of each day, I want you to have someplace where you can feel safe and free to be yourself…I'm hopin' that place can be with me."
"Always has been," she reassured him. "I love you too, Fix-It. I think I'll hang onto this for a while."
"Good," he spoke barely above a whisper, kissing her neck.
"Careful," she warned him, his touch having sent a wave of goosebumps along her skin. "I don't think you have any idea just how good you smell right now."
"Oh, but what if I do?" this time planting his lips on her shoulder. Cheeky.
"Then going home will just have to wait," Tamora murmured as she pushed the handyman down onto the workbench.