Fender Bender & A Tender Member

Grilled ham-and-cheese sandwich. Creamy tomato soup. Baked potato wedges. Strawberry lemonade.

Certainly not a high-class feast, or a planned out series of dishes, but satisfying nonetheless. Having only eaten a light breakfast and being too 'busy' earlier, John had a great appetite when he  settled into the restaurant booth for a belated lunch at four in the afternoon. When at last the meal was set before him, Monty had to restrain himself from what would have been a ravenous devouring of the sandwich, a greedy guzzling of the soup and lemonade, and an avaricious gobbling of the potato wedges. Ultimately, he found a satisfying pace that fulfilled the necessity for politeness and the desire for quick consumption.

After paying the bill with his limited supply of cash, John stepped out into the parking lot and began making his way to the rental car, contemplating the after-dinner mint lightly held between his fingers. Briefly reminded of Mister Creosote's gastric explosion, John popped the mint into his mouth, lightly gnawing on it as the peppermint flavor floods his mouth and throat. In a moment of coincidence almost comedic, he fished the keys from his pocket and looked up in time to see the navy blue SUV back out and bump the white compact in a less than gentle manner.

It took half an hour to talk things over with the driver, complicated by John's lack of insurance and money, as well as the fact that the compact was a rental. In the end, the middle-aged man who was undeniably at fault gave John his insurance information and informed him that he would cover the damages.

"You should go see Andrei. He'll fix it up, and Avis won't even notice anything went wrong. You can find him at.."

And so Monty found himself at the repair shop in question, standing in the lobby and feeling like an idiot.

Andrei was having a Good Day.

He was hunched over a table lit by a bare filament, surrounded on all sides by bits and pieces of junk, cast offs from car repairs and the local scrapyard. The walls of the workshop were either leaned on by stacks of the scrap, or supporting large sketches and diagrams of mechanisms, circuits, components. With his only jobs for the day being simple patch work - straightening a bumper here, tending a cracked exhaust there - he had the day more or less to himself. Reaching to his left, he took up a torch, sending up a spray of sparks as he brought it to bear on his Project.

It had been a while since he'd been free to work on whatever took his fancy. He'd moved to this country barely a year ago, and was already gaining something of a local reputation as a top-notch mechanic, the guy who'll take a car anyone else would call a write-off, and give it back better than new, and at a good price at that. But the current focus of Andrei's attention had little to do with cars - as he finished the weld, he took the component, blew on it, scuffed it on his jacket, and wedged it onto the end of a home made receiver for a gun. But something didn't quite fit. Andrei shook his head, and reached for the mallet. He raised it above the above the table, but before he could strike the last piece in, a buzzer and a light signaled the shop door opening - a customer. With a disappointed sigh, Andrei took one lingering, longing gaze at the Project - he was so close! - but moved out of the workshop and into the small lobby.

"Hello! Welcome to Markovic Repairs, what can I fix for you today?"

"Well, my compact got dinged up a bit in the parking lot, and since it's a rental..." John's words faded into silence as a quirk in the man took his attention. Behind the friendly smile, wisps of disappointment and excitement drifted, ignored by the man at the moment, but fresh. Monty nearly cocked his head, confused for a moment both by himself for picking up on it passively, and by the man. Pushing his curiosity aside, he continued.

"Sorry, am I interrupting something? It's just a fenderbender, and the guy told me to see Andrei about it."

Andrei did a double take, before relaxing and smiling again. "It's no problem my friend, I was just working on a, ah, pet project. But work comes first, you know? Let's go take a look at your car."

With that, Andrei went to the door, holding it open for the other man. Once outside, he gave the car a quick look, his attention drawn straight to the crumpled front bumper. "Well, that'll be a quick fix. Oh, one moment." With that, he cracked open the bonnet, appraising the engine. "Hah, as I thought. The scoundrels at the rental companies, they like to let their cars run into the ground. They just don't know how to treat a machine! I'll also tighten up the engine block here, don't want you to be driving a subpar vehicle, right? Won't charge extra either, consider it a... welcome gift, yeah?"

It was John's turn for a double take, the empath not stunned by the offer, but the sincerity and friendliness of this Andrei.

"Hey, man, thanks. I appreciate it." Monty managed a smile, half-baffled though he was. In the years since he discovered the extent of his ability, he had not met anyone so honestly nice. He found, as a rule, that most people wore a friendly facade in new company out of respect and obligation, rather than a genuine desire to be genial in a stranger's company. Few were exceptions, and John was not among them himself, but the mechanic made them look like assholes, put bluntly.

As Andrei set himself to work, John stood idly by. Perhaps cutting off Markovic before he could speak, perhaps not, Monty spoke up himself. "So, what's this pet project of yours? If you don't mind me asking, I mean."

Andrei was all too happy to chat about his current obsession. He talked animatedly, though he did not take his full attention from the rental's engine compartment.

"Hah, glad you asked! You see, I work mainly as a mechanic at the moment, but have also had some training as a maker of guns, right? So, lately I was having this really cool idea-" he paused as he yanked a pipe from the engine block, replacing it with a hose connecting it to some other device that John was pretty sure was not there before. "this cool idea to scratch build a shotgun with semi, or even full auto capability, using gas driven revolving clips to load it!"

Andrei straightened up, satisfied with his work on the engine. "Here, I'll show you what I've got so far." He disappeared into a back room, emerging with the receiver. As he passed the car, he gave the front bumper a swift kick, almost as an afterthought. Miraculously, the dent popped straight out.

Is he really already done?

John glanced between Andrei and the car as the mechanic walked away. He did say 'work comes first', and Monty wasn't getting the vibe that he'd deviate from that statement. The man returned quickly, holding what seemed to John at first to be a mangled piece of metal. As Andrei drew closer, however, the telekinetic could see that it was definitely a part of something, though beyond his limited knowledge of firearms and the mechanic's explanation, John himself knew nothing of its internal workings or whether it was quality work.

At the same time, though, he did. Unless the Russian was just fooling John, he was a one-of-a-kind mechanic, an engineer to the core.

"I'm afraid I don't know much about machines myself. Could you walk me through it?"

Taking a deep breath, Andrei prepared to unleash a flood of information onto the unsuspecting customer.

"Alright, so, this gun has a six chamber cylinder design similar to a revolver, but utilizes spring clamps instead of solid chambers, unlike your typical revolver. See? that's this bit here. The mechanism is a short recoil operated toggle joint system, kinda similar to the Luger P08, or the Borchardt C-93."

Andrei pointed out the specific parts as he described them, his finger jabbing at the gun's workings as his eyes gleamed with excitement to explain his design.
"After a shell is fired, the barrel and toggle assembly, both locked together at this point, travel rearward due to recoil. The toggle strikes a hook that rotates the cylinder, causing the knee joint to hinge and the toggle and breech assembly to unlock. At this point the barrel stops its rearward movement, but the toggle and breech assembly continue moving due to momentum, bending the knee joint, extracting the spent shell from the chamber and ejecting it. The toggle and breech assembly subsequently travel forward under spring tension and the next shell from the cylinder is loaded into the chamber."

He let out the last of his breath, before giving a quick laugh. "So, uh, your car! I'll give that corner a quick wipe and buff out the scrapes, and it'll be better than new. Not a big job, so don't worry about needing to pay too much."

And just like that, they were done. All of it had taken less than ten minutes, during which the rental was supposedly improved, the dent was fixed, and John was shown the workings of an interesting, scratch-built shotgun. At the front desk, Monty pulled out his wallet, unsure whether he'd have enough cash to cover it, or whether he should use his credit card. Rather than guess wildly, he looked up from his wallet to Andrei.

"How much will it be?"

"Well, uh, considering the relatively minor extent of the damages, and the man-hours put into repair of the vehicle... This'll set you back one-hundred and forty five, including the tax." Andrei chuckled, before continuing.
"It feels like thievery for such a simple job, but a man has to eat, no?"

The mechanic kept fiddling with his shotgun, unsuccessfully trying to fasten the revolving cylinder into place. Giving up on getting it done by hand, he scrabbled around on the workbench, grabbed a convenient spanner, and gave the resisting cylinder a solid thwack, knocking it cleanly into place.
"Ha! Nailed it!"

"Small price to pay for getting back on the road quickly." John handed over his credit card, watching as Andrei swiped it once. Replacing his card and pocketing his wallet, he thanked the mechanic once again and moved to the door.

"Good luck with your project."

"Enjoy the rest of your day." Just before John stepped out, Andrei called out again. "Uh, sorry, I never got your name!"

Monty stopped in the doorway, halfway through. Holding the door open with his arm, he turned to Andrei. "Oh, right. It's John."

"Andrei Markovic. Pleased to meet you!"

"Of course, and you."

John stepped out and quickly got the car started again, driving out of the garage and into the parking lot. His mind was focused back on work, the brief time spent locating Markovic's garage giving him a chance to recover from the slowing effects of a full stomach. As he waited to turn out of the parking lot, Monty tried to think of a way to snag himself a proper geneticist, the unanswered calls and uninterested receptionists lingering on his mind. Lost in thought, he missed not just the first few gaps in traffic, but several long periods where the road was completely clear.

Honk.

John jerked in his seat, startled as the horn of the car behind him tore him from his thoughts. In that same instant, however, he came to a realization. He began to pull out of the parking lot, but turned harder than necessary, barely managing to get the nose of his car back into the parking lot through the other lane. The other vehicle drove on, and John parked his compact in front of Andrei's workshop again.

He pushed the front door open and stepped up to the desk. Andrei wasn't there just yet, but it only took a moment for him to make his way from the back.

"Hello! Welc-- Hey! John! Back so soon? Another bumper buster? Ha!"

"How would you like a job?"

-FIN-

This story continues In The Lab: On the Desk & Against the Walls.