A/N: Hey, kids, this chapter has lots of swearing! Like, actual swearing! Just a heads up before we dive into the mind of our favorite boy genius.

Trust me when I say there are few sights more depressing than an empty workshop.

Maybe that's the engineer in me talking. If you ask Amy, I was someone who was "born with a wrench in hand", which, by the way, must've been hella painful for whatever poor vixen birthed me (probably why she dumped me off as an infant, but that's neither here nor there). I've trained myself to see the world as one full of machinery, both simple and complex. I deconstruct and reconstruct things in my mind. Chances are if I don't know you very well, I won't be listening to you as much as I am thinking about how to better improve your phone, or your watch, or even your car. As such, workshops are a personal nirvana, full of possibilities, projects, and challenges to overcome.

So when that workshop is empty, it feels…awful. It feels hopeless, like an empty world where nothing can be done to make things better. Melodramatic, perhaps, and it's something I'd never say to Silver and Blaze, who have seen empty hellscapes devoid of hope, but it's truly how I feel.

"Remind me why Rotor keeps this place open on Saturdays?" asks Wave.

"It's just a slow day," I responded.

"Must be a hell of a coincidence that all of our 'slow days' are on Saturdays," she huffs. "What was it again? 'Two is a coincidence, three is a pattern'?"

"Sounds about right," I shrug. I'm not really in the mood to argue, partly because I know she's right, but also because I have a lot on my mind already. "We're still getting paid, so I guess it's not all bad."

"Nah, just mostly." As she finishes her thought, a timer goes off, trilling electronically until she taps her phone. "Times up, finally." From behind her counter, she pulls out a magazine with an elaborate looking motor on it, and begins reading. "Tails, if by some miracle a customer comes in, you're in charge."

"Leave it to me." We often take "shifts" on slow days, so that Rotor never catches us both being idle at once. We've only been caught once, but trust me, even one lecture from the walrus shaves years off a Mobian's lifespan. He's a brilliant mechanic, but he can be a sanctimonious bastard sometimes.

I shake my head. Don't be a brat, I scold myself. This place is paying your rent, so suck it up. I get off my stool and start pacing the workshop slowly, examining each shelf carefully. In my head, I tell myself I'm doing some form of inventory, making sure everything is where it should be, but really, I'm trying to keep my mind busy. Most Mobians peg me as a thinker, and they're right, because when I have nothing to do, my mind goes into overdrive. Normally, that's good- most of my best ideas came to me during a lazy stretch of boredom. But given what's been on my mind lately, I'm in no hurry to brainstorm.

It'd be a lot easier to distract myself if we had a single stinkin' customer, but that's not happening anytime soon.

"Shelf A looks good," I mutter to myself, continuing my effort to "work" myself out of a funk. I study Shelf B, going item by item, one at a time. "Shelf B looks…the same as it does every day." I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Why did I think this would do anything to help?"

That pause was a bigger mistake than coming into work today, because as soon as I closed my eyes, the thoughts I've been trying to stop came flooding back in a distressing deluge.

What if she's into someone else? That was the case last time, and that was crushing.

What if I say something, she wouldn't want to be friends? At the very least, she's great to be around.

What would Vector do if he found out? You've seen that 'gator, he can rip Badniks in half! You're built like a balsa plan, he'd probably be able to throw you across the county line from here…

Nevermind that shit, what about Vanilla? That woman's scary in an entirely different way.

Ooh, wonder what she's wearing right now?

"That's a new one. Eugh, gross…no, not her, the thought is gross. Well, not the thought of her, she's nice. Well, not 'nice' in that sense, just, urgh-"

"Tails?" I look up to see a quizzical Wave arching an eyebrow. "What on Mobius are you doing?"

Oh no, please don't tell me I've been thinking out loud. I thought I broke that habit years back after the trouble with Lanolin…

I blink. "Inventory?"

"Pretty sure inventory doesn't need you mumbling to yourself like a lunatic."

"It's how I keep track of things?" Wait, why was that a question? Miles Prower, you may be a genius, but you can't lie worth a damn.

"Mm hmm." She rolled her eyes, turning her gaze back at the magazine.

This is gonna be a long day. Mission 1- don't think about her. Mission 2- keep your damn mouth shut. I sigh. At least the second will be easy. Wave isn't much for small talk-

"So, who's 'nice?'"

I wince, hanging my head in defeat. But she sure does love ragging on Mobians. I bet if I look up, I'd see some smug smile plastered across her beak.

"You really gotta stop talking to yourself, dude."

"I know," I groan. "It's just…not a good day for me. Or a good stretch for me in general."

"In a rut? I've been there." She paused. "Is this because of girl troubles?"

Oof, straight to the point. She may be a swallow, but she bites like a shark. "W-what makes you say that?"

"Well, during your ravings, you said 'she's nice,' so I figured there's a girl on your mind. Pretty simple math."

I wince again. "You sure know how to hit the nail on the head, Wave."

"Thanks."

"That wasn't meant to be a compliment."

"I'm taking it anyway."

"You make it sound like a power move."

"Which it is. Come on, Tails, I thought you were smarter than this."

I sigh. "Okay, Wave, you got me good. Can we stop talking about this now?"

"Are you kidding?" She dog-ears one of the pages in her magazine and tosses it back into her area. "There's finally something interesting happening on a Saturday, I'm not letting this go."

"Wonderful…"

She leans in with a mocking grin. "So, what's the name of our lucky lady?"

"Why should I tell you anything?" I grumble back.

"Because it'd feel better to get this stuff off your chest, I bet."

"What are you, a therapist?"

"You're not answering my question, Tails."

"And I'm not going to. Sorry to disappoint. Guess we're back to a regular, boring Saturday."

"Alright, then I'll just guess our winner."

I groan again. "You're really not going to drop this?"

"Nope," she laughs. "Hmm, lesse…oh, I bet it's that lemur girl. She's a bit old for you, but you seem like a boy who's into older women."

"Okay, A) Kiss my ass, and B) Tangle's practically engaged to Whisper."

"Swing and a miss, huh? How about the cat? She's got a nice look to her."

"Blaze is actually engaged to someone, so no."

"Yeah, you're way too much of a 'good boy' to be a homewrecker. Umm, oh, what about Surge. If Fiona is any indication, you're really into bad bitches-"

"Let's not talk about Fiona," I growl. "Let's never talk about Fiona." I normally don't get this mad, but given the field day Wave is having at my expense, I think I can give myself some slack. Bringing up Fiona was a low blow, and I have half a mind to bring up her own partners if she doesn't lay off…

"Oh, right, you said she's nice. That definitely doesn't describe Surge. Guess the third time's not the charm."

"Too bad, that's strike three" ,I huff." Now shut the hell up so I can do my job." I begin turning around, heading to the back so I can cool off.

She scoffs. "Damn, dude, sorry."

"Feh."

There was a tense silence over the workshop. It was thick enough that you'd need a power saw to even chip at it. I try to keep that image in my head as I go back to examining the shelves. The image of metals and other materials being cut into usable parts float into my mind. They begin rearranging themselves into all sorts of shapes and forms, each for a specific job, each to fulfill specific needs. After the seventh or so, my fists unclench, and my breathing returns to normal. A new thought enters my head:

Man, I'm a dick. I got really defensive for no reason. Better rebuild this bridge ASAP; it'd be dumb to lose a friend over this.

Sighing, I turn back to the front of the workshop. "Wave, I'm sorry."

She looks up. "Huh?"

"I, uh, got really pissy when you were just kidding around. And for that, I owe you an apology."

"Oh." She stops, a weird alloy of confusion and remorse melding across her face. "It's okay, Tails. For what it's worth, I'm sorry too. I kept pushing, even when it stopped being funny."

I smile awkwardly. "It's okay, Wave. We'll make it up somehow."

"Guess we were both dicks, huh?"

I chuckled. "Guess so." I put my hands up in front of me like I'm reading a sign. "Come to Rotor's Workshop! We're all dicks!"

Wave burst out laughing. "Oh man, imagine if we actually put that on our sign!"

I laugh along. "Then we'd get even less business. Or someone would sue us for 'indecency' or something."

She smiles "Ah, you're alright, Prower. Sorry for burying my beak in your business."

"It's alright, really." It's my turn to pause. I rub the back of my head, trying to think of what ways to make it up to her. No customers means I can't really take care of the shop while she relaxes. Last I checked, her Extreme Gear didn't need any tuning she can't do herself. I could ask about a separate tune-up, but last time I asked, she said she could handle upgrades herself. Come one, Tails, use that head of your's…

'You must really like her, huh?"

"Wha?"

"Sorry, not trying to start this up again, but…you really got riled up when I started ribbing you. Most Mobians don't get that defensive about someone unless they really like them."

"You really think so?"

"Just speaking from experience." She shrugs. "Sorry to keep digging like this."

I let what she said stew for a while. "No no, you're right. I," I shuffle a bit, uncomfortable, but knowing it has to be said, "I really do like her."

"Really on your mind?"

"She's monopolizing it."

"I'm guessing that's why you were doing inventory in your head?"

"Yep. If I'm not doing anything, things get…complicated."

"Well, you can talk to me. My relationship may have been…"

"Train wrecks?"

"'Dumpster fires' is more accurate, but yeah. Anyway, listen, I'm all ears."

"You'd really do that?"

"Hey, gotta spend our time doing something," she jokes. Leaning in, her expression changes from sly to serious. "So, you're into her?"

I start fidgeting again. "Yeah, but," I look to the ceiling, "it's complicated."

"Quantum computing is hard. Crushes usually aren't."

I sigh. "Yeah, well, for me it's kinda the opposite…"

A/N: First Tails chapter is done. Keeping with our timeline, he's 18, and trying his hand at independence. Hopefully I can explore that more in future chapters.