Disclaimer: I don't own anything OC related.
AN: Sorry about the fluff. Thought we needed some Ryan/Sandy bonding, and not in a squick way. And I know nothing about cars except what I learned from Google and various male friends over the years who revel in my stupidity.
"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Sandy broke the silence in the car as he pulled onto the freeway.
"The best meeting I've ever had with my P.O," Ryan smiled, glancing at him from the passenger side. He pulled off his button down shirt he was wearing for professionalism and tossed it in the back, more comfortable in his white t-shirt.
"Hopefully, it'll be your last meeting with any P.O," Sandy said, reaching across and patting Ryan on the shoulder.
"Three months with no trouble, I'm pretty proud," Ryan replied.
"And you're officially off probation. Your slate is officially clean now, kid. How do you feel?"
"Good. I feel good."
"I guess that's about the extent of your feelings on the whole subject, then?" Sandy teased. He was used to the quietness of the teenager and it was refreshing considering his own son was a hyperactive babbler.
"Thanks," Ryan said, meeting Sandy's gaze for a short moment. "I couldn't have done it without you."
"Sure, you could. But you probably wouldn't," Sandy laughed.
The BMW made a grinding noise suddenly as it started to jerk. Sandy pulled it to the side of the freeway and as soon as it sputtered to a stop, smoke began to pour from under the hood.
"That can't be good," Sandy muttered.
"You want me to take a look?" Ryan asked, already stepping out of the car.
"I have AAA, but…"
"Pop the hood," Ryan instructed, already at Sandy's window.
"From inside the car?" Sandy asked, confused.
Ryan gave him an amused smile. "Sandy. There's a little lever, down near the floor…"
The door to the gas tank popped open.
"The other one."
"Oh…"
"Thanks," Ryan grinned, walking around to the front of the car.
"It's smoking, are you sure you should be…" Sandy asked, getting out and closing the door behind him.
"You don't know anything about cars?"
"I'm from the Bronx, we took the subway. I can drive cars and look at cars but I don't know anything about how they work," Sandy admitted.
Ryan managed to find the catch and raised the hood. Sandy stepped back instinctively as the smoke rolled out.
"When's the last time you put water in your radiator?" Ryan asked. Sandy uncovered his eyes and saw Ryan leaning over the engine.
"You have to water it?"
"Yes, Sandy. I can't check it when it's this hot…" Ryan said, stepping back. "But I think you probably need to call AAA."
"It's bad?"
"When's the last time you took it for a tune up?"
"It's a BMW. For the price we paid, it should stay tuned," Sandy replied.
Ryan let out a rare laugh. "Where's your phone?"
Sandy returned to the door and pulled the handle. "Oops."
"What?" Ryan asked.
"Is your window down?" Sandy asked.
"You didn't…" Ryan joined him by the window and saw the keys in the ignition. "Sandy."
"I'm sorry, I didn't think the doors would just lock like that…"
"I bet your phone's in there, too, right?" Ryan asked.
Sandy nodded.
"Great."
They each turned their head to see how far they were from the closest exit. When they didn't see anything in that direction, they glanced in the other direction.
"Surely, someone will stop for us…" Sandy said quietly.
"Really? You think?" Ryan gave him a small smile to show that he wasn't angry. The car had finally stopped smoking and he walked past Sandy to peer into the engine again.
"Of course…" Sandy said.
"Two men stranded on the side of the road. Maybe if you pull up your pants leg a little, you know, show a little leg…" Ryan muttered.
"Well…"
"Do you have a spare key? Like under the bumper or something?" Ryan asked, one of his eyebrows raised.
"You're making fun of me."
"No, I'm not. I'm hot. I want to go home," Ryan said, but Sandy saw the smirk on his face.
"I don't have a spare. Kirsten has the spare key on her keychain. And I think Seth has one…"
"Okay, so, we'll improvise. We need to get into the car…"
"You're going to break into my car?" Sandy asked.
"Do you have a better idea?" Ryan replied evenly.
"Well…we could wait for someone to stop."
"It's, like, 95 degrees out here, Sandy, and you're in a suit. I can promise you that no one's going to stop," Ryan said.
"Whatever happened to good Samaritans?"
"Yeah, I think they all died out," Ryan said, studying the engine closer. Sandy tentatively went to his side and peered over his shoulder. Ryan glanced at him. "It's not going to bite you."
"I don't believe you," He replied seriously.
"Okay. Let's get the car unlocked before I have to get dirty," Ryan sighed. He walked around the car examining the window. "This one's cracked."
"It's broken? Kirsten's going to kill me…" Sandy hurried to his side.
"Why don't you relax? This isn't a crisis…" Ryan was trying to get his fingers inside the small opening of the window.
"My car bursts into flames and my only form of communication is locked inside…"
"Your car is not on fire. It overheated. All we need is to get into the car so I can get that bottle of water…" Ryan pointed through the window. "And top off the radiator enough to get us home."
"So my car is thirsty which made it catch on fire," Sandy stated.
"Are you channeling Seth?" Ryan smirked. "Listen, make yourself useful. See if you can find me something long and narrow to slide in this hole…"
Sandy stared at him before turning a lovely shade of crimson. "I am channeling Seth…" He turned and started searching the shoulder of the freeway for Ryan's tool.
He had taken several steps away from the car when he heard Ryan curse.
"Fuck!"
"Ryan?"
Ryan was shaking his hand, agitated. "Fucking luxury car…sorry," He apologized.
"What happened?"
"Pinched my fingers. Did you find anything?"
"Still looking…" Sandy spotted a car antenna in the ditch. He carefully stepped down to get it and promptly fell on his ass. He glanced back to see if Ryan had seen him fall and was relieved to see Ryan focusing on the window. Until the car horn blew and Ryan turned and started to laugh.
"We are not talking about this later," Sandy mumbled, reaching the antenna and pulling himself to his feet.
"Perfect!" Ryan smiled, accepting the bent antenna and sliding it into the window. Within seconds, he'd manipulated the lock and he pulled the handle to open it.
"Good job."
"Really?"
"Uh…no. I mean, thanks for getting the doors unlocked and promise that you'll never do it again," Sandy recanted.
"That's what I thought," Ryan laughed. "Why don't you call AAA and I'll see if I can get the car running."
"A plan. Nice." Sandy retrieved his phone and made sure that he had the keys before joining Ryan by the front of the car.
Ryan's face was twisted in disgust as he looked over the filthy engine. "Sandy, you really should take better care of your car."
"It is very…dirty…"
Ryan responded by pulling off his shirt. Sandy stared at him.
"It's hot. I have to unscrew this cap, hopefully, it's cool enough and won't spray hot water on me…" Ryan said as he used the shirt to unscrew the radiator cap.
"What?" Sandy asked.
Ryan gave him a patient smile. "It's okay. See?" Ryan held up the cap. He peered into the engine. "Now. Can you pop your trunk so I can see if you have any antifreeze?"
"Antifreeze? This is California, why would I…" Sandy started.
"I'm going to pretend that I still have respect for you as a man. Go to the trunk and see if there's anything in bottles. It's not a big deal if there's not, but it'll help," Ryan laughed.
Sandy stuck his tongue out at Ryan, playfully, but he was really relieved that his foster son knew what to do.
Finding nothing but a spare set of swim trunks and a tire, he turned to close the trunk when the convertible screeched to a halt in front of the BMW.
"Need a ride, stud?" A female voice called.
"Uh, no thanks. We got it," Ryan responded.
"You sure?" A blonde called.
Sandy slammed the trunk closed and the carload of girls pulled away.
"I thought you said no one would stop," Sandy teased.
"Well, it's not like they would've been much help," Ryan replied.
"Why?"
"They were wearing Gucci. You think anyone wearing Gucci would touch this engine?" Ryan muttered.
"I'm not. And I'm only wearing Ralph Lauren," Sandy conceded.
Ryan glared at him as he poured the bottle of water into the radiator. He leaned down and checked below the car. "No leaking. That's good. Did you call AAA?"
"I thought you were fixing it? Who needs AAA when you're around?"
"Thanks. Start the car," Ryan laughed.
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Sandy walked into the kitchen first and Kirsten was immediately alert. "You guys…Sandy, what happened?" Kirsten kissed his cheek and immediately turned his body to examine his backside.
"What?"
"Dad, you have grass all over your ass…" Seth chimed in from his seat at the counter.
"Seth, don't say 'ass', and are you sure?" Sandy asked, spinning to try and get a better view of his ass.
Ryan entered with his shirt only half buttoned.
"I can see Ryan's nipple," Seth stated, slightly stunned.
"Seth, don't say 'nipple'," Kirsten scolded.
"I can't say 'ass', I can't say 'nipple', what, is the FCC here?" Seth glanced around suspiciously.
"That'd just mean you couldn't show it," Ryan said, sitting down beside Seth.
"True. But what's up? You leave to meet your P.O. and you come back shirtless…"
"I'm wearing a shirt…"
"Ah, yes, but you are flashing the anatomy a little, like, where's your layers?"
"The car's dead. Ryan tried to fix it," Sandy explained.
Ryan rolled his eyes. "The car is not dead. Sandy just doesn't know how to take care of it."
"Did the oil light come on again?" Seth asked.
"There was no water in the radiator. It needs a serious tune up."
"Sandy can barely change a tire," Kirsten laughed.
"At least I can make macaroni," Sandy muttered.
"Macaroni won't leave you stranded in the middle of nowhere in your evening gown," Kirsten replied.
"Score one for mom," Seth laughed.
"So I don't know cars, it's nothing to be ashamed of…" Sandy defended.
"You just went down, like, three notches on the masculinity meter, Dad…"
"What? I have AAA, why would I ever need to know about cars?"
"Don't worry, Sandy, you're married, you don't have to be masculine anymore…" Kirsten teased, squeezing his waist.
"So, I guess the next question is, when is Ryan going to teach his brother here about cars?" Seth asked.
"What? No…" Ryan protested.
"Come on, I don't want to be a wuss like Dad…" Seth responded.
"That's a good idea, Sandy. Maybe Ryan could teach you some basics, too," Kirsten smiled.
"He doesn't even know what antifreeze is for," Ryan muttered.
"Antifreeze?" Seth questioned.
"It's coolant, for the engine," Kirsten told them with a smile.
"Come on, man, you can totally teach us…" Seth urged.
"I don't think I have the patience…" Ryan said.
"Hey, Dad taught you to play golf, I taught you to skateboard…"
Kirsten burst into giggles despite Ryan's glare in her direction.
"Not really good examples, Seth," Sandy smiled.
"What? Why?" Seth feigned confusion.
"Because, Ryan broke three windows in Julie Cooper's house and he busted the skateboard in three pieces against those steps you were trying to make him skate down," Kirsten reminded.
"Okay, bad examples, but man, you so owe us. Please. Help us defeat the Cohen curse of being 'girly men'. Please."
Ryan sighed and wouldn't look at Seth.
"Please. Come on…" Seth whined.
"You guys don't even have any tools…" Ryan muttered.
"I'll make a call," Kirsten smiled.