fixing the damn machine {Waycca}

A slew of curse words fell from Dean’s lips as the wrench he had been holding slipped from his grasp and fell onto his head. He was lying on the floor of his classroom, underneath his precious motorbike, trying to fix the engine.

Despite his best efforts he couldn’t do much without some new parts and it was just serving to frustrate him.

He stayed still for a few moments with a hand pressed against his brow, where the tool had hit him, hoping that the pain would ease up quickly enough. Though it didn’t seem to be working and he could feel the headache building behind his eyes.

Waycca was bored, as usual, and the sluggish heat of the day didn't help one bit. She sang off tune to herself as she searched for some relief. "Video killed the radio star...blahblahblah, in my mind and in my car," she muttered. Her voice trailed off when she spotted the Muggle Studies Classroom. Grimace replaced with a devious smile, she threw open the door, not bothering to knock and half hoping she'd catch him doing something embarrassing.

What she didn't expect to see was a...motorsomething. A pair of legs were sticking out from under them and she couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Having fun, Dean?"

Dean sat up on instinct, forgetting for a moment where he was and his head connected with the metal of the motorbike.

“Mother Fuck!” He yelled, forgetting that he shouldn’t curse in front of students, as the pain overwhelmed his senses.

Wincing he crawled out from underneath the bike, “What do you want Miss Louise?” he grumbled getting to his feet, still pressing a hand to his seriously abused cranium.

Waycca slapped a hand over her mouth to try and keep from bursting out laughing, eventually settling for occasional giggles. "Ahh. Watching you get hurt is honestly so comical. You've made my day better already," she said, walking over to his desk and perching on the edge of it. "Does there always need to be a reason? You can't just settle for my adorable self dropping into shine a light of joy on your life?"

He gave her a dry look and pulled open a desk drawer looking for some painkillers.

“So you were bored and decided to burst into my classroom and cause me more pain than necessary is that right?” he asked sourly placing two capsules in his mouth and swallowing them with a sip of the cold coffee that was perched on his desk.

“Shouldn’t you be doing homework?”

Watching him with a smirk on her lips, she replied, "The pain part wasn't planned. Just a happy bonus."

She pouted at him with her arms crossed over her chest. "Why would I do homework when I can see your bright and smiling face?" Ooh, this was getting more fun than usual. He seemed a lot moodier today, which suited her just fine. "Anyway, what's with the motor...the machine?"

“Motorbike,” he corrected stiffly, “Don’t touch her, she’s my baby.”

The 1960 Harley-Davidson bike had been pretty much abandoned in someone’s garage and Dean had purchased it for a very low price considering that it was a very popular American model. It was actually almost back to pristine condition, as soon as he got the parts he needed it would be ready to ride.


“I’m repairing it,” he explained, taking another sip of the cold coffee, “Then I can avoid the modes of transportation that might just leave me without a limb.”

"Mm, yes. The lack of doors seem much safer," she mused, looking it up and down. "I bet you just got it for catching all the ladies' eyes. Calling it your 'baby' is definitely gonna get that taken care of. Extremely attractive." She did rather like the way it looked though - much cooler than her aunt's mini couper(one of the only Muggle cars she'd been in).

“Hey, it’s much better looking then some newer models,” he insisted folding his arms across his chest, "And if you must know, I actually got it for street races."

He shrugged, "Its a rush, and as you can see, I never got it road worthy before coming here."

Waycca raised an eyebrow, intrigued at the mention of street races. "Really, now? Dean McCoppin racing. On a motor...uh...bike!" She really needed to remember that, or else she'd embarrass herself while trying to mock him. And that would the defeat the purpose entirely. "Dean McCoppin, street racing champion, wins the world cup for the third year in a row! And the crowd goes wild!"

He chuckled. "it doesn't work like that, they're held at night, on urban streets and there's no trophy. They're technically illegal and pretty dangerous."

He pointed to the media shelf, hidden slightly by the bike, "Think Fast and the Furious," it was the best comparison he could offer, the movie had over dramatized a lot of the details but it was still the easiest comparison.

"Ooh. Bad boy Dean now, huh? Breaking laws and bones," she grinned, standing and circling the bike to get a better view of it. "Taking risks and becoming a gangster. I learn more and more about you everyday and I must say I am loving it."

"Yeah, Yeah, I'm a horrible influence, better alert the parents, I'm teaching their kids how to break muggle laws..." He started sarcastically, he paused "That might actually be a good lecture topic," he muttered.

"I am disliking how much you're getting out of me, you know too much and I may have to kill you before I leave."

She came to a stop in front of him and raised an eyebrow. "Good luck with that. I'm secretly a ninja trained in the mountains - well, not so secretly anymore - and it is my job to take out thugs like you who corrupt the mind of young people," Waycca replied, managing to remain deadpan. "Also, what's this I hear about leaving? Nope, not gonna happen. I'm stashing you under my bed; you are my only source of technology and I have not yet watched enough movies involving men in spandex."

"I haven't left yet and you have more than enough time to watch those movies, the school year has barely started," he commented seating himself on top of the desk.

"And only on the off chance that my dad takes a turn for the worse would I leave earlier."

"Yeah, but what if I want to watch them four or five times in a row to get the gist of them? At three hours each that's, like, fifteen hours a session," she conceded. She rather liked that he'd sat down, as she didn't feel quite so short now.

Waycca blinked at the mention of his dad. She might be learning more and more about him, but she still didn't know much at all about his family. "Well, I very much hope that doesn't happen."

"If you sit and watch fifteen hours of movies I'm going to get hell from your other teachers," He could just imagine Belle and Miranda, for example, chewing him out for introducing the students to the mind melting qualities of motion pictures.

"Speaking of your other teachers," He looked over at the teen perched on his desk without a care in the world, "Don't you have homework you should be doing?"

"Don't you have homework you should be assigning? How do you know I haven't already finished all of it anyway? Since I'm, y'know, super smart and cute and awesome. Not to mention my enduring modesty," she conceded, smirking at him. "What, you'd rather me be doing boring work than sitting here making friends with the Muggle Studies professor?"

He looked at her blankly, "You are a very, very weird teenager," he commented, "I mean, how many kids actually want to spend time with someone twice their age."

It was very odd considering teens usually sought out people their own age, not that he didn't enjoy the girl's company when she appeared, but it was strange and he honestly didn't know what to make of it.

Waycca furrowed her brow, rather caught off guard by that. "I dunno. You're...not like the other adults or whatever. You're actually kind of fun," she muttered, shrugging a shoulder. It wasn't like she had many friends her own age anyway - there was Molly and Akasha, but she didn't even know them that well yet. "If you're not planning on murdering me with an axe, why should you being, like, almost thirty matter?"

"And how do you know I'm not planning on murdering you with an axe?" He asked with a smirk.

"And trust me it matters, try and see it from someone else's point of view, I end up looking like a cradle robber!"

"If anything you'll run over me with your fancy modes of transportation - or maybe not, considering how messy that would get the tires," Waycca grinned, heaving a sigh.

"Hm. Yeah, and I probably end up looking like a naive skankasaurus. Doesn't mean it's true. Since when was other people's point of view worth a shit?"

((Going to bed!))

he shook his head, amused by her choice of words, "Sad fact of life for you Miss Louise, the opinions of others do actually matter."

Dean downed the last of his cold coffee, wincing at the residue at the bottom of the cup that indicated it had been sitting for far too long before he drank it. Thankfully, though, the combination of painkillers and caffeine had helped the pounding in his head.

Waycca frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. "Matter is a strong word, sir," she said, using a word she said only with the strongest tone of sarcasm. He hardly ever called her by name, only Miss Louise. Not that she could complain. "So, what? You saying you don't want my wonderful company anymore because of what people might think?" She highly doubted that was Dean's train of thought, but she decided to exert the little effort to ask anyway.

"I wouldn't say that," Dean replied, "Besides if I did you would probably annoy the life out of me just so you could prove me wrong."

He thought he had a pretty good idea of the girl's personality by now, and she definitely struck him as the type of person who would want to do something even more when someone said that she couldn't.

((I swear! I can spell some pretty damn complicated words and the one that always gets me is 'definitely'! WTF))