A/N: Well, I missed the Monday upload. Sorry! Jeesh. I'm terrible at these upload commitments :P Enjoy!

Chapter 2

Andy sighed in bewilderment as he began piling the rest of Gabriella's belongings back into her bag. He nodded in approval of the library copy of Moby Dick that he put into her denim bag that was fraying and was stained with grease and oil. He supposed that if she was a true mechanic, that part was inevitable. He didn't know what his dad would think, but so far, Gabriella had certainly made an impression. Perhaps a confusing one, but at least she seemed serious about her job.

"Hey, who's that?" a voice asked.

Andy stood up and brushed the knees of his overalls down. He smiled at his father, Troy Bolton. With greying hair and a few wrinkles around his eyes and forehead, his body was succumbing to the cruelties of time. Still, Andy wasn't an idiot. He knew that women still found him attractive. He was willing to bet that his father could be eighty, living in a nursing home, and the old grannies there would still be smitten with him. It wasn't just his father's looks that made women, of all ages, flaunt themselves at him. It was the confident air about him, his ambition and determination to succeed.

Andy gestured to where Gabriella was pacing back for outside. "You'll meet her in a minute. What was the call out about?"

Troy laughed and rolled his eyes. "Kels had a flat tyre. Jase was at work. So, I changed it for her. We need to order a replacement for her spare."

Andy nodded and reached in the pocket of his overalls for a pad and pen, jotting it down as a reminder. "Was she alright?" he asked as he put the pad back into his pocket.

Troy smiled and nodded slowly. "Yeah. I think she is. We mostly talked about you, actually."

"Why me?" Andy exclaimed. "I know she's my godmother and I love her, but even so. Why me?"

Troy shrugged. "Why not, sport?" he asked. He ruffled his son's hair as he wandered past, towards the table and picked the maths textbook up. "Did you get much studying done?"

Andy frowned as he righted his hair. "I told you when I was thirteen not to call me that," he grumbled as he took the textbook off of Troy. "And, yes, I started revising beloved logarithms."

Troy quirked an eyebrow. "And in English for your dear old father..."

"Never mind," Andy muttered as he threw the book aside.

"Did that applicant for the new job turn up? He never got back to me, confirming or denying that he'd be here," Troy exclaimed.

Andy gave a nervous laugh. "Oh, you'll find out soon."

Gabriella wandered back in, pushing her mobile phone into her back pocket. "Sorry about that," she murmured.

Andy saw the way that Troy scrutinised her. He knew that Troy wasn't a bad man. But, he had no clue how his father would react. "Dad, this is Gabriella, the applicant for the job. Gabriella, this is my dad, Troy Bolton."

Gabriella gave a bright smile and held her left hand out; he noticed there was a shaggy, moth-eaten rag wrapped around it, similar to the one in her hair. "How do you do?"

Troy shook her hand tentatively. "Hi. I'm Troy. You're the applicant?"

"Would it help if I introduced myself as Mr Montez?" Gabriella asked, defiantly crossing her arms.

"I'm sorry about that," he muttered but Gabriella detected some reluctance.

"Those are words. It's not an apology." She sighed, and lifted a hand to brush her bangs away from her eyes. "Look, if I wasn't desperate for work, I wouldn't have turned up today. But, here I am. So I'd appreciate a little bit of respect."

Troy glanced at Andy and then threw his hands up, as if he was helpless. "I'm sorry but you're not what we're looking for." He stepped past her and headed towards the back office.

Without considering the consequences, Gabriella marched after him and stood in the doorway with her arms folded. "You're wrong."

"Excuse me?" Troy asked as he began searching in a filing cabinet for something.

"You might not be looking for someone like me, but I'm exactly what you need. For no other reason than to stop you being a sexist bastard. Women are just as capable as men to be a mechanic. It's no reason to refuse me of a job," she exclaimed. She shrugged. "Besides, you must want me because you asked for an interview. So, logically, I sort of figured out that the only reason you're rejecting me is because I'm a woman. You can't deny that."

"But," Troy protested, "You took a call before the interview. It was rather rude, actually."

Gabriella's anger drained from her face and an icy coldness replaced it. She looked so cold and still, that someone would've mistaken her for a statue. "Yes," she said curtly. "I took a phone call. It was private and I have no right to apologise for it."

"Would you take private calls whilst on the job?" Troy asked.

"Only from that number," she muttered. "I don't care about other calls."

Troy stared at her for a moment. "Alright. You have one chance to prove that you're a good mechanic and you know how to fix a car. That Renault out there," he pointed over her shoulder to the car in the workshop, "has two problems. You have to solve both before the day is over. If you can do that with no mistakes, you're hired."

Gabriella nodded solemnly. "Deal."

Andy felt someone appear next to him and looked away from the thrilling chapter on quadratic equations to quirk an eyebrow at Troy. "What's up?"

Troy was silent and instead looked over to what they could see of Gabriella. It wasn't that much, mostly just her knees. The rest of her was hidden by the engine, on one of the creepers. In the silence, the only sounds were those of the outside world and the quiet tinkering of Gabriella's work. As reluctant as he was to admit it, there was something about the scene in front of him that made Gabriella seem just at home. She was comfortable. She was happy. She was just...natural.

"Why don't you like her?" Andy asked quietly.

"It's not that I don't like her," Troy murmured. "It's just alien. Andy, this town isn't that big. I've never come across a woman like her before."

"Are you going to hire her? Because you should. She's obviously good at the job. And she likes logarithms so I vote yes." He smiled at Troy.

Troy sighed and watched as Gabriella came out on the creeper from underneath the car. She stood up and inspected the engine of the car. She had oil smudged on one cheek and her white shirt was now rather black. But, still, that just proved how much at home she was. It seemed like the picture would be incomplete without her. He watched her wipe her hands on a rag and a look of pride and satisfaction crossed her face as she shut the bonnet.

Troy wandered over and folded his arms. "How long did you say you'd been doing mechanical work?"

Gabriella shrugged as she stuffed the dirty rag into the back pocket of her jeans. "Since I was about fourteen or fifteen. My dad was a mechanic and I always hung out in his garage so he taught me from a young age."

Andy laughed. "I know how that feels."

Troy shot his son a mock glare. "Anyway, I'm impressed. I haven't met many women in this town that can change a tyre, let alone change the fan and the oil pan."

Gabriella quirked an eyebrow and folded her arms. "Are you admitting that you were wrong?"

"I'm saying that you're hired. Isn't that enough?" he muttered.

Gabriella smiled widely and shrugged. "I'll take what I can get."

Troy nodded slowly. "Alright. 9:30 tomorrow?"

"Alright then." She headed over to where her bag was still discarded on the floor.

He watched her as she took out a packet of, what seemed to be, make up removal wipes and her compact mirror. She delicately wiped the cheek with the oil on, then wiped the rest of her face and threw the wipe into a nearby bin. She was different; an anomaly in the small town that was Scarborough. With an estimated population of fifty thousand, it was no Hollywood. Movie stars weren't in residence and it was probably the place to live if a crime-free life was desired. But, still, the female population were, quite frankly, still obsessed with the cosmetic appearance just like every other female in the world. None of them would be willing to have oil on their face. But, still, he was amazed to find that, despite Gabriella wiping her face down, nothing changed. She evidently wasn't wearing makeup. Perhaps that was logical considering her job as a mechanic. But, there was something about the way that she moved that hinted that she knew that she was naturally attractive, and Troy wouldn't be surprised if she went without make up on a daily basis.

He wasn't sure how this would work out. Troy had his opinions and Gabriella had hers. She was just as, if not more, stubborn as he was. But, he could credit her for standing up for what she believed in. The only thing they could do was take it one day at a time. Hopefully, the tension between them would subside and she would be a regular employee and, hopefully, a friend. He'd found over the years that a small business such as his own only functioned as it should when everybody was friends. It would never work if he and Gabriella clashed too much. But, he wasn't willing to admit that a part of him wanted them to get along, if only because she was clearly a good and dedicated mechanic.

Andy shook his head to himself at his dad's obvious denial of how much their business was in need of Gabriella. And, more importantly, Troy was denying how much he needed someone exactly like Gabriella. "Hey, are you busy tonight Gabriella?"

Gabriella had just managed to untangle her knotted vines of earphones and looked up at Andy. "Tonight? Why do you want to know?"

Andy shrugged and flipped the page of his book. "Me and dad were going to a local pub tonight. I'm bringing my best friend with me. You can come with us."

Gabriella slowly stood up and pulled her bag onto her shoulder, iPod in hand. "As much as I'd love to be around three men who will probably spend the evening slagging off women mechanics, I don't think so. I have much better things to do with my time."

"Three men?" Andy exclaimed as he shut his text book. "No. You misunderstood me. My best friend is a woman. Steph. You won't be alone."

Gabriella looked between the two Bolton men. "Well, maybe she can help me out and help me understand the both of you."

Troy rubbed his forehead. "You really don't have to, you know. If you've already got plans, that's alright."

Gabriella shrugged. "I was going to spend my Saturday night having a Harry Potter marathon, complaining about things they missed from the books and having a Chinese takeaway." She faltered. "I didn't realise how dorky that was until I said it out loud. No, I'll come. If that's okay."

"Of course it is," Andy reassured. "We're meeting at The Duchess at about seven-ish."

Gabriella nodded. "Okay. I'll meet you there."

Troy waited until Gabriella had walked away until he glared at Andy. "Give me one logical explanation as to why those words just left your mouth."

Andy shrugged. "She needs to know that we're not complete Neanderthals. Steph will talk to her and convince her that we're not sexist bastards."

Troy frowned. "You, my friend, have been around your Aunt Taylor way too much."

Andy grinned in response. "Well, it was either that or I become more like Uncle Chad."

"Okay, you win," Troy muttered.

"It won't be that bad," Andy consoled. "It'll be fun."