Chapter Text
Bilbo Baggins wasn't handy. At all.
She was absolutely terrible at fixing things, which often led to her calling calling a repairman to fix whatever she had broken or whatever Melkor had broken while he was busy terrorizing Sauron, her Doberman. That cat was a menace, but she couldn't take him back to the pound since she didn't have the heart, and she was ninety percent sure he would claw her face if she tried. She had gotten to a point in her life where she appreciated her face, thank you very much-
Anyway, now she was getting off topic. Where was she?
Oh, right.
She couldn't fix anything to save her life, like that one time she tried rebuilding a bookshelf to store some of her pamphlets and booklets about foreign places and vacations around the world. She had taken her hand off of the shelf for a split second, hardly thinking it mattered that only one side was nailed down. With a nail between her lips and her glasses buried in her brown curls, she had picked up her hammer and the loose shelf swung and promptly whacked her on her forehead like a clock's pendulum. She had to call Bofur to fix that, and he almost had to call the doctor for the bleeding cut on her head.
She still had the scar and, despite it being secured by Bofur, she still avoided that damned shelf.
Now, her father, Bungo Baggins, was another story entirely. If he hadn't passed away quite some time ago, she would have called him to fix all the repairs her house needed. Belladonna Baggins nee Took was still alive and well in their comfortable flower shop of Bag End, but she wasn't the best at fixing things. Or using her cellphone correctly.
As Bilbo looked under the hood of her yellow Bug, she couldn't help but think that the amount of smoke slowly leaking from the mechanics was not right. She wrinkled her nose in annoyance and checked her watch, realizing she was late for work already. She quickly debated what the better choice of actions was: a) run to the bookshop and be fifteen minutes late instead of five, also including exercise, or b) get into the possibly dangerous car, drive to work in less than ten minutes, and take the disapproving look Balin would give her.
So she chose the lesser of the two evils that did not involve exercise, but involved possible death. It was better than exercise, anyway.
The car ride went as smoothly as it could with whatever unknown ailment that had taken hold of her Bug, though her fingers clutched so tightly to the wheel that her knuckles were white underneath her nut brown skin. She slammed the door, trying not to stare at the thin puffs of smoke creeping out of the front, and walked briskly into Fundinson's Bookshop.
The shop had been her source of income for the past three years ever since she had quite literally bumped into Balin and found out that he was a childhood friend of her mother. Fundinson's had hit harder times due to the rise of e-books (which no one could mention without Balin blanching) and the better coffee shops around town. Their tea actually tasted like tea and not the gross water Bofur insisted was a "spiced blend."
Well, at least their chairs were comfortable and their books were well-stocked.
"Late night, Bilbo?" asked an all too cheerful voice, and she jumped, swearing under her breath once she saw the grinning face of Bofur. His black hair was drooping in his eyes as usual, his short ponytail skimming the plaid button-up of his shoulders. "Don't worry, Balin's out getting coffee along with Nori. I'll tell him you were right on time."
She sighed with relief, sending him a tired smile. "Thanks, Bofur." He doffed his furry eared hat in a playful manner and plopped it on her head, covering up her messy hair and overall doing her a favor. Used to wearing his hat, she adjusted it and took her place behind the cash register as he began moving boxes of new shipments.
"You look stressed, Billie. Something wrong?" he asked, signing the slip from the delivery man and kicking the boxes inside with little care.
Didn't bother to close the door either, she thought with a sigh. The hot summer breeze washed in, the sound of passing cars and civilians only adding to the cranking of the air conditioning system. If she weren't so exhausted, she would have chided him for being so careless and letting the warmth in, but today she just rested her chin in her hands.
"There's something wrong with the Bug," she said mournfully, and Bofur let out a low whistle.
"Again? That's the second time this month," he remarked, and she nodded, knowing all too well how old her car was, but she refused to get a new one. She would have to get a loan from her mother or the bank, and if she got a cheap car, the condition could be terrible. "So, did it break down again?"
"No, it was working when I drove here... kind of." She scrunched her face together thoughtfully. "It was so weird. There was all sorts of white-"
"Do you smell smoke?" Bofur asked suddenly, effectively interrupting her, and for a moment her brown eyes were blank. Then they widened to the size of dinnerplates as she heard the familiar whirring of her car, the smell of the smoke oozing from the hood earlier reaching her nose, and she ran outside.
"No, no, no!" cried Bilbo as she pushed past the small throng of passersby to her Bug.
A few people walking past had stopped in their tracks to look at the white smoke pouring in large amounts, mouths open and then closing abruptly as they tried to escape the slight odor by jogging away. She groaned and began to bat away at the smoke, steam fogging her glasses, as she and Bofur yanked open the clip. White fumes billowed out and they coughed, covering their mouths and nose with pieces of fabric until the smoke finally faded away to a more manageable stream.
Bilbo stared at the smoking car for quite some time before speaking, the witnesses to her car's "death" finally moving on to their business.
"Maybe it's better this way," she said and realized she'd have to take the bus. "Nevermind. I hate my life."
Bofur shot her a look.
"Ah, don't say that. You have a wonderful life," he said, though he looked somewhat hesitant as he examined the mechanics of her car. There was a slight frown playing at his lips, a crease between his dark eyebrows as he experimentally began poking around.
"What the hell did you do to this thing?"
She shrugged. "Hell if I know. It just- it just threw a fit, I don't know. I just don't get it. I mean, it's eight years old-"
"That explains a lot," he snorted and then waved her on when she glared at him half-heartedly.
"As I was saying, it's eight years old, but it's always been in perfect condition." He raised his eyebrows at her and she wrinkled her nose anxiously, eyes flicking towards the smoking whatever and only adding evidence that contradicted her statement. "Okay, okay, it's always been in decent condition."
"Decent?" he repeated disbelievingly and she huffed, crossing her arms across her red shirt.
"Fine, it's always been in working condition. Happy now?"
He shrugged, rubbing his hands across his jaw and finally shoving them in his pockets as the light breeze blew his dark hair. "Just peachy, I am. You know, Billie, acceptance is the first step to admitting you have a problem. Or rather, your car has a problem. You don't take very much good care of it. Honestly, I'm surprised it hasn't exploded sooner-"
"It didn't explode," snapped Bilbo and waved vaguely had the thinning smoke. "It just- just decided to release a little fumes, that's all.”
"That's what you call a little? It might as well caught on fire!" His amusement began to fade as he looked back at the car, beetle black eyes grim. "But seriously, you need to take this to the mechanic or something."
She groaned, taking off Bofur's hat from her curls and burying her face in it. They stayed out in the hot outside for a few minutes, though it felt longer with the humid air suffocating them, until they heard heavy footsteps slapping against the sidewalk. Bofur turned, sending a small wave to their boss while she continued mourning the loss of her money and car, her face still burrowed in the cool fur of the hat.
"Good morning, Bilbo," Balin said cheerfully, then stopped short once he saw the smoking car, nearly dropping the tray of iced coffees in his surprise. Nori, coming not far behind, whistled once she saw the Bug. She took a long drag on her latte, as if there was hard liquor in its milky contents, and patted Bilbo's shoulder comfortingly.
"I see that the Bug's life has finally been squashed," she said sagely and laughed at her own bad joke. Balin raised his bushy white eyebrows at her, moving cautiously closer to the car. It sent out one last puff of white smoke before sputtering and finally silencing.
"It's over," she sighed. "It's finished."
"How long has it been like this, Bilbo?" he asked her and she shrugged.
"Dunno. According to some people, I severely neglect my car-" cue direct look at an oblivious Bofur.
"Well, it's true," he defended himself, kicking the Bug's tire with his Timberland boot. He stroked the yellow sides, a melancholy look on his face. "Look at this poor thing. Have you been abused by the mean lady, Buggy?"
Nori began to laugh and Balin had to hold Bilbo back from tossing an iced coffee at her coworkers. Bofur then put his ear to the hot metal, a thoughtful expression on his face as he pretended to listen to the car's woes. "What's that, Buggy? Bilbo even puts her dog and cat in you? Tsk, tsk, what a horrible owner. And the cat scratched your leather seating? That bastard-"
"Alright, that's enough you two," Balin scolded, pushing them away from the car and slamming the hood down. "Unless you'd like to have a memorial service for the blasted thing, then you all need to get working. Our summer holiday sale is beginning today and we have a lot to do, so move along."
"Why, Mr. Balin, I think a memorial service is a wonderful idea," said Nori with a wink and Balin blinked, her charms washing off of him like water on a duck.
She stopped by the shop's door and saluted the Bug with her steaming latte, face comically serious as she downed her styrofoam cup in reverence. Bilbo rolled her eyes, snatching up her tea from the tray and entering the shop.
"Nori Reese, you are lucky you're dating my brother," said Balin in a somewhat threatening manner and Bilbo couldn't help but crack a smile despite the loss of her car still being fresh, and the loss of the money it would take to repair it even fresher. Then he turned to Bilbo, looking pensive.
"You know, Dwalin knows a nice auto shop," he said and took a napkin from the coffee tray, pulling a pen from his pocket and scribbling down a number. "He's beginning to work there part time ever since he was injured on a case. I could even try getting you a discount."
"Really?" she perked up, her smile widening as she displayed the OPEN sign on the window. "Do you think you can do that? I'd be very grateful, Mr. Fundinson."
"Anything for you, dear," he said with a wink that reminded her of a doting grandfather, and Bofur and Nori audibly began grumbling about playing favorites as he dialed up Dwalin and made arrangements to have Bilbo's Bug looked at on Saturday.
Two days of taking the bus or walking.
At least it wasn't a full week.
* * *
Thorin Oakley was the handy-man in her family. She had to be since it was her new job as a mechanic. Frerin had gotten the smarts and skills of a writer; Dis had gotten the healing hands of a nurse (along with the surprisingly hard punches of someone who had boxed her whole life); she had, in turn, received all the knowledge of fixing just about everything.
Her father, Thrain, had taught her all about tools and what to use to correctly fix things from broken shelves to corroded mufflers. Dis and Frerin had never been interested, so she didn't have much of a choice in the matter, but she enjoyed it, especially when she would give her father's faded blue muscle car, Minty, a tune up.
"Jack of all trades, master of none; certainly better than a master of one," Dis had said to her cheerfully as she balanced a wailing Kili on her hip and pried gum out of Fili's blond hair using peanut butter and her bare, sticky hands.
At the time, Thorin had been bouncing between jobs and had lost all hope of finding a suitable workplace where she could see herself working at until she got a house instead of a flat.
That was until Dwalin had told her about Irons Mechanics & Auto Repair. Thorin and he had been talking idly over coffee, the former glaring into her dark mug, now cold, and the latter staring at her with a look of mild annoyance. Finally, Dwalin had sighed and slapped a business card of the repair shop on the table.
"What's that?" asked Thorin in a grumbling tone of voice, cheek smushed against her hand as she didn't take her eyes off of her coffee. Soon it was swept out from under her and being loaded with sugar as Dwalin slurped it down noisily. Disgusting, he was. "What was that for?"
"No more coffee, nothing else for you to stare at moodily for the next fifteen minutes," he replied and took her chin in his hands, snapping his other hand in front of her pale blue eyes. He pulled from his pocket a small white card. "Now, pay attention. See this, here? This is the the ticket- no, not ticket. The key to your success. This little card is going to get you a job." He banged his hand against the table, looking pleased with himself. "What'd you think of that?"
"How came you by this?" she asked suspiciously and he sighed.
"It's a business card, stupid. They give them out literally everywhere. You're supposed to read it."
Thorin picked up the flimsy card, eyes narrowing to read the tiny print. "Well, it is certainly little," she said thoughtfully after a good long silence and was fairly sure Dwalin was about to take back the card and never invite her for coffee again. "Fine, fine, I'll check out the shop. But I'm not even that good with cars. Haven't worked on a car in years."
"Then you can practice. Work on your da's old car, for crying out loud." A smile quirked across his lips. "Didn't he have a name for that old thing? It was a horrible greenish blue or whatever."
"Minty,"she answered, tucking the business card in her jean pocket and wrapping her gray scarf around her neck to fight against the cold. "Fili and Kili came up with that name, so shut it. As if you haven't named anything precious to you something stupid." She stood up, grabbing her heavy bag that Dis fondly called her 'Auntie' Bag and a grin crept up on her face. "You know what? Scratch that. You still do."
Dwalin mumbled something inaudibly, sweeping up his crutches and sunglasses despite it being rather cloudy outside. "I do not. I'm not five, Thorin, I'm thirty-seven. And so are you, so it's about time you've stopped calling an old car Minty."
She scoffed, holding the door open for her childhood friend. "Oh, please. Dain and your boys back at the precinct told me you named your nightstick and taser 'Grasper' and 'Keeper'. Is that a metaphor for your ways with women?"
She ducked his playful swing, but was unable to stop herself. It was like she could feel herself being annoying, but couldn't fight it; almost like Kili, really. "Do- did you name Nori's boobs, too? Oh my God!"
Once she bobbed out of Dwalin's reach, she had quickly felt herself lose her balance and land flat on her bottom. Long story short, Dwalin laughed so hard he almost fell himself, Nori's boobs did not have names (she found out the answer after ratting on Dwalin, and Nori laughed so hard that she spilled her coffee all over her lap), and she had gotten herself a new job.
The interview had been short, with hardly any talking. Thorin liked that, and had been set to work immediately on a car to prove her skills. The gas pipe had been busted and, thanks to her practicing on Minty and transforming that prehistoric creature into a shining car worthy of a showing, she was able to fix it within ten minutes.
She got the job the second she was finished.
The next month of working in the shop didn't include as much activity as she had originally expected. Well, for her, at least. The other mechanics were doing just fine with their steady influx of customers. There were even walk-ins, but the customers would take one look at Thorin's decisively feminine figure and walk in the direction of another mechanic; even if said mechanic was already working on something, or wasn't even good.
Ah, sexism at its finest.
Like that Thranduil O'Phor who had stolen her client right from her fingers. He was mediocre at best at repairing, yet he had gotten the job and kept managing to steal her customers. Plus he was pretty and managed to stay perfectly spotless no matter what. She was sick of cleaning the messes the other mechanics made, of mopping the bathroom floors and refilling the oil tanks. She wanted to actually work on a car, even if she was just changing tires. By the fourth stolen customer, she had nearly snapped her wrench in half.
Thankfully, Dwalin had had to listen to her grumblings and decided to spend the day with her, so he stopped her from slamming Thranduil's platinum blond head into a Cadillac. Bastard. She had that handled. Admittedly, she would have gotten fired, but still. Officer Friendly just had to make an appearance.
He sometimes gave her his own clients for her to practice. However, that day he hadn't had much to do except watch Thorin and tell her she missed a spot of oil on the floor. She settled for glaring murderously at him each time since he had a lame leg and she would only get in trouble for harassing a disabled person.
When she saw Dwalin hobbling over on his crutch with his mobile in his hand, she had no idea there was a possible job opportunity in store for her. The mechanic just refocused on looking for any problems with the Pontiac that had been brought in, even though there were none and she was positive that the old owner was delirious. His car was perfectly fine. She slammed the hood, taking a large and heavy wrench from Kili's hands before he could do anything stupid with it.
"Kilian Oakley, I told you not to touch my tools," she said quietly, arching a thick eyebrow at her eight-year-old nephew. He frowned, though it came out as more of a pout with his young face, and he raised his doe brown eyes at her. "No, no, don't give me that look."
"Aw, come on, Auntie Thorin!" he whined loud enough for Fili to hear, and he turned off the sound of his hearing aids to block out his brother's ranting and the loud clanging of the shop. He sent his aunt a slight smile before burying his face back into his comic book. "You're not doing anything with them, so why can't I use them?"
"I am doing something with them," she said and Kili shot her a disbelieving look.
"What? No, you're not," he said, crossing his arms across his chest.
She smoothed out his shirt, flicking his nose playfully before putting her tools back in her box. "Yes, I am."
"Okay, now you are, but you weren't before." He waited until her last wrench was placed in the box. "And you aren't now since you're all done." He clapped his hands together, rubbing them excitedly as a goofy grin overtook his face. "So, can I play with 'em?"
"Someone's still using it," Thorin said quickly.
"What? Who?"
"The ghost of the- the garage."
There was a brief moment of silence including Kili staring at his aunt and his aunt staring right back at him. Finally, his confused face twisted in a frown and his brown eyes blinked. "That- that- is there actually a ghost in here?"
"Yes," she lied and pushed back his longish brown bangs. "How about we look for it when it's my turn to lock up in four days? And we can tell Mum all about it after her shift at the hospital?"
Kili nodded enthusiastically. "Does that mean that you're going to sleep over? Mum doesn't get back until midnight on Mondays. That means we'll have to stay up, and you can sleep on the couch while we watch movies."
"Don't see why not," Thorin replied with an indulgent smile that she quickly wiped off her face when a worker passed. She had managed to maintain a facade that made most of her coworkers avoid her at all costs, and she liked that facade, thank you. She'd keep it for as long as possible. However, where her nephews were concerned, it was hard for her to control herself and not strap leashes on them and tie the handles around her arms.
"How does a superhero movie sound?"
"Awesome! I've got a good one."
"Let me guess," she said, covertly looking at his Tony Stark T-shirt as she wiped the motor oil staining her hands on a dirtied rag. "Is it... Iron Man?"
"How'd you know?"
She snorted and caught sight of Fili waving to Dwalin, who was attempting to make his way across the large shop. She sighed, catching his mind numbingly determined expression as he tried maneuvering on his crutches, and walked over to him to save him the trip. He blushed, shifting his crutches.
"I could've made the walk, you know," he muttered and glared mutinously at his leg. "Hate these damn things. Can't wait until I can get rid of them. Oin says I might need a cane after therapy, but that's better than clunking around with these ruddy- oh, hey Fili," he finished, catching himself once the boys had walked over.
Fili, turning on his hearing aids, waved hello with a bright smile and Kili gave a gap toothed grin.
"So, is there anything you needed to tell me?" asked Thorin, turning back to Dwalin after sending a fond look at her nephews.
"Oh, nothing important," he replied, voice lightening and almost teasing. "Just that you're going to owe me a couple of drinks 'cause I just got you a new client. Again, nothing important, but-" he shrugged, a smile on his face. Thorin blinked blankly when Kili let out a whoop, shaking her tattooed arm.
"You did it, Auntie!" he told her. "You've got a customer!"
Fili's smile widened and he enunciated as clearly as he could, "Congratulations." She found herself smiling softly and signed thank you to him before looking at Dwalin. Then she laughed and bumped her head gently against his, something they had done since they were little and he had inadvertently slammed his head into hers at school.
"As I said before, you'll owe me some drinks," reminded Dwalin and she frowned at him. "But you can buy 'em after your client since God only knows what's in your bank account." He gave a dramatic shudder to get a laugh out of the boys. It worked, but also got a punch to his shoulder out of Thorin.
"So, what am I going to fix? Who's the client?" she asked as calmly as she could, not wanting to show her excitement too much.
"Honestly, don't even know. Balin said there's something wrong with 'er Yellow Bug. Was smoking and sh- stuff. Among other things. Along with a weird noise, he thought the thing was possessed. And the client-" he laughed. "Funny little thing. I've only seen her once or twice before since she's friends with Nori. Looks like a nice lady, but probably doesn't know jack about cars. I'm sure you'll like her," he added, voice oozing with sarcasm.
* * *
With the help of Nori, Bilbo was able to call a pickup truck to drive her Bug to Irons Mechanic and Auto Shop. As she rode in the passenger seat of a rather skinny man with lank dark hair and huge, pale eyes, she couldn't help but feel every bump and jostle as they drove. She kept looking in the rear view mirror, feeling her stomach dip every time the Bug was jolted. The way it was haphazardly set up, it was almost as if it was being dragged. At the fourth bump, she gave a low moan of fright.
Seemed right that Nori would give her the shadiest driver in town.
The driver- Smeagol, according to his nametag- looked at her with his overly large eyes and gave her an encouraging smile. Her stomach turned as she saw the yellowed, even blackened numbs of his missing teeth. "Don't worry, Mis-s-s Bagginses," he told her. "We'll be at the mechanic soon and then he can fix your carses. Your precious carses..."
He trailed off, murmuring to himself a bit, and Bilbo practically jumped out of the car once they rolled up to the short cinderblock building of Irons Mechanic. She hastily grabbed a few pounds from her jacket pocket and handed it to him, maintaining a safe distance as the driver unhooked the car with the help of some of the workers at the garage. They were able to push it inside, opening the large automatic door, and she lagged behind as they hooked it up.
She felt a burst of heat coming from the inside of the shop and felt warmer once she entered. She winced as the sound of drills and metal clanging assaulted her ears and she walked over to where her car was, feeling herself frown once she saw no mechanic in sight.
Oakley, Balin had said the mechanic was named. She checked every name tag of each passing mechanic, not even noticing the woman behind her checking out her car. Tapping her foot impatiently, she pulled out her phone to dial Balin, see if this Thorin Oakley had taken a sick day, when she heard a voice speak behind her.
"So, this is the Bug," the woman said and she turned around a little too fast, slamming her hip against the metallic edge of a rollable table. Biting her lip in pain, she looked down at her Oxfords and couldn't bring herself to look the woman in the eye for fear that she was laughing at her.
"Looks more like a taxi than a car," she continued on in a mutter, seemingly oblivious that Bilbo was there. But as she flicked her icy blue eyes towards Bilbo, extending a grime covered hand, she knew exactly that she had purposely ignored her the first few seconds. She didn't take it as her eyes wandered to her new name tag.
Thorin Oakley. Great.
She wasn't exactly what she expected.
The mechanic was tall, towering at possibly over 5'11, therefore making her client hardly up to her bicep. Striking features, beautiful but not classically, with what might be considered too much of a hooked nose, sharp cheekbones, and thick, arched eyebrows that were slightly heavy over her pale eyes. Her hair was the well kept locks she had always dreamed of, an ebony black and wavy.
In short, she was one of the most immaculate creatures Bilbo had ever had the pleasure to see.
"Are you the bookshop worker?" she asked, snapping her attention back. "Boggins, right?"
"Baggins, actually," Bilbo corrected and was going to wave but decided it would only make her look more awkward. "That's... my car," she trailed off lamely, clasping her hands behind her back and fighting the urge to just run away.
She felt like she was being x-rayed under her blue gaze. She cleared her throat, forcing a smile. The mechanic remained stony faced. "So, do you think that you could see what's wrong?"
Thorin grunted so she could only assume that meant yes, and rolled up her sleeves before lifting the hood of the Bug. Bilbo could feel her eyes widen once she saw the array of tattoos on both of her arms. She had never really been interested in tattoos, but Thorin's were nicely done and, she dared say it, attractive. There were lots of symbols and writings that she thought looked like Hebrew on her right arm. The black ink was bold on her pale skin and created a shocking contrast. On her left arm were dark blue and purple flowers, iris, and detailed raven's feathers.
"So, what'd you say was going on with your car?" asked Thorin, jolting her from her observations.
"Er, there was-" she gestured vaguely at the hood of the car "-smoke. This white smoke."
"Was there any signs of sputtering?"
"Sputtering?"
"Yes. I assume you know what sputtering is?"
"I know what sputtering means!" said Bilbo waspishly, feeling her cheeks heat up in embarrassment as she saw the faint smirk flitting across the mechanic's thinly curved lips.
"Good," she replied calmly in her rough voice. "I'll need to investigate the inner workings a little more closely..." she trailed off, rolling up her sleeves to her biceps and dirtying up her hands even more. Black oil stained her skin. "Hm."
"Hm?" repeated Bilbo. "What's 'hm' mean?"
Thorin looked up at her, her eyebrows raised in what might have been amusement. "You're a jittery thing, aren't you?"
"Lady not a thing," she corrected, and Oakley nodded, an apologetic look crossing across her face. Maybe the sausage fest around her was starting to get to her head and cause her to spout nonsense. "Now can you tell me what's wrong with my car?"
She nodded, eyes flickering to Bilbo and then to the yellow exterior of the Bug. "There's smoke coming from the valve cover gasket-"
"So what's that mean?"
"I wasn't finished, Ms. Baggins-" Bilbo felt herself involuntarily shiver at the somewhat icy tone, and let the mechanic continue without interruption with a vague wave of her hand. Thorin circled around the car, keen eyes calculating. "You're burning gas- and yes, that's not very good. Were you able to drive in it?"
"Only for under ten minutes," she said with a shrug. "Then it went all... odd. So, how much to repair it? Are you able to start immediately?" She began digging around in her purse before stopping, noticing Thorin scuffing her boots against the concrete floor.
"I could start in a little while, it's just that the repair costs are really pricey."
Her eyes narrowed. "And just how pricey, Th- Ms. Oakley?"
"Three or four."
"Hundred?" Her heart sunk.
"Thousand, actually," She looked slightly guilty as Bilbo's jaw dropped, her hopes of a repair for her beloved Bug scattered in the wind. "I- ah, sorry."
"Fine, it's fine," she brushed off with a nervous, not quite sane laugh. She leaned against the passenger door heavily and Thorin closed the hood, hovering close by hesitantly. She moved against the car right next to her, her grimy hands wiping themselves on a blackish rag. She smelled like leather and the strong oil from her car that made her stomach turn nauseously.
"If I may, could I give you some advice?" she asked cautiously and Bilbo nodded. "You should just get a new car altogether. No offense, but your car is kind of old. Even if you find the money and I repair it, there could be more problems in the future. Broken muffler, coolant leaks, especially given the heat wave lately."
"Hm," was all she said in reply.
"Hm," echoed Thorin, a smile beginning to tug at her lips. "So, what're you going to do?"
Bilbo frowned, eyebrows drawing together in thought. "Guess I'll just have to get a new car. Try finding something cheap."
"Something cheap that actually works, you mean. Trust me, it's the worst when you get a bargain for a car and end up breaking down halfway from the dealer's. There are some good car dealers in town, just avoid Smaug's place. He's a right-" she stopped herself, coughing. "He's too pricy and not the nicest of blokes."
That managed to draw a little laugh from her. "Yeah, it does. Thank you anyway. If I get a shitty car, then I guess I can always come to you again."
"Oh?" There was badly suppressed excitement in her voice. She must not have gotten many customers.
Bilbo shrugged as nonchalantly as she could with a pretty woman right next to her. "Why not? Oh! I'll need to pay you for the advice and inspection, right?"
"It's fine," Thorin said quickly. Her customer raised her eyebrows quizzically. "Trust me. You're one of the only customers to treat me with some respect or give me the time of day. So... it's fine." Bilbo ended up giving her enough money to buy a small dinner, ceasing her protests as she shoved the money into her pocket.
"Thank you again, Ms. Oakley," she said. "Hopefully the next time we bump into each other, it won't cost me four thousand dollars. Goodbye."
"Goodbye, Ms. Baggins."
She shrugged her satchel across her shoulder and walked through the large, loud garage wondering if she would have to return there if her new car was as shitty as she thought. Part of her didn't mind. Even if the garage was humid and noisy and some of the mechanics weren't the nicest of people. Even if as she exited she was nearly pushed to the ground by two over-excited children yelling to see their 'Auntie'.
* * *
Thorin turned off the lights of the shop, the white light fading and replaced by an eerie darkness. The garage was creepy without the light streaming in from the door, or the loud sounds that she had become accustomed to. She heard a rattle of a steel table, the wheels rolling followed by a small crash. She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose and using her cellphone's light to guide her way towards her sheepish looking nephews.
"Sorry," said Kili with an embarrassed grin.
"I thought I told you two not to fool around in the garage," she said disapprovingly and they began picking up the wrenches that had tumbled to the floor.
"Sorry, Thorin," said Fili and she sighed before taking their hands.
"Come on, we need to get home," she said, feeling Kili begin to swing his arm excitedly. "We've got a movie to watch, right Kili?"
"Right!"
"Is it Iron Man again?" asked her older nephew.
"Duh! What else?" asked his brother.
"Okay, but I know every single word in that movie. And that's saying something since I need to go mostly by the closed captions." Kili giggled and Thorin lifted him onto her shoulders.
"Wait, what about the ghost in the garage?" he asked after a gasp of realization that he forgot to look as the doors clanged shut behind them. "Auntie Thorin, what about the ghost? We never got to look for it!"
"What?" asked Fili, confused.
"Ghost," repeated Thorin for him. "I told your brother that there was a ghost in the garage."
He looked to his aunt, then his brother, then back to his aunt and signed, "And he believed you?"
She gave him a hard look followed by a quick nod. "We'll look for the ghosts another day, alright Kili?"
"Promise you won't forget this time?"
"Promise."
She could faintly hear Fili trying to muffle his laughter as they opened Minty's faded blue doors. She was driving barely fifteen minutes when her phone began to ring. Dwalin's grumpy face was displayed on her cell, and Kili picked it up. He balanced the phone between his cheek and shoulder, nodding at something Dwalin was saying.
"Kili, can you give me the phone?" she asked and he hushed her.
"I'm being your secretary, you should be thankful," he replied and placed the phone against his chest so Dwalin wouldn't hear. "Dwalin wants to know if you'd be interested in checking out some cars with Nori."
* * *
Since Bilbo was busy the next few days what with the bookstore's sales, Nori was able to sell the Bug. Originally, she foolishly thought that her friend had taken it to a dealer's, or even a junk yard. But no, she sold it to some inventing nutjob named Radagast who owned an abundance of pets along with an abundance of broken down cars. Bilbo, upon finding his colorful website that looked to her as if she was on drugs, was horrified to think of her car in such a person's care.
"Relax, Bilbo," her co worker had said soothingly to her as she rang up a customer with frizzy gray hair buying medical books. "You got a decent amount of money for it, enough money to be able to purchase a semi-shitty car instead of a fully shitty car. You should be grateful- thank you, sir, that'll be £29.02."
"What was that, lassie?" he asked in a louder than necessary voice. "You're gonna have to speak up."
"£29.02!" said Nori loudly.
"What?"
"£29.02!" she shouted and a few of the customers waiting in line began to grumble. Eventually, she just showed him the neon numbers displayed on the screen and he paid. "Can't believe he's Dwal's doctor."
Bilbo laughed as she restocked books closeby. "Really? I can't believe I haven't even met your boyfriend."
Nori stiffened before shooting her a playful glare. "He's just shy, is all. He's very cautious around new people. Doesn't want to be judged."
"Well, no one wants to be judged," said Bilbo. "I bet he's a catch. You gush about his lots. From what Balin tells me, you two are mad for each other." Nori's melancholy smile widened and she leaned over, punching her shoulder playfully. "Do other people not see it?"
"They just see that Dwalin doesn't have an Adam's apple, actually," she said quietly as so the old lady she was ringing up wouldn't hear. Bilbo froze.
"Oh, Nori, don't tell me you've had to deal with people acting like-"
"Pricks? Yeah, quite a few," she replied and shrugged, forcing a crooked grin. "Anyway, it's fine. I already knew before Dwalin told me. He was scared I wouldn't like him anymore. But I do feel like a male on some days and a female on the others, so you can say I'm a good match for him."
Bilbo laughed. "And I bet that you're a very attractive couple, no matter what. Especially in those leather jackets you so love."
"Pfft, Dwalin and I could look good in potato sacks, my dear friend."
They shared a laugh before a rather rude customer snapped her fingers at them. As they locked up at the end of the busy day, Bilbo shrugged on her light jacket.
"You know, I've been looking into some dealer's, and maybe you and Dwalin can help pick one out with me," she suggested and Nori looked at her, sending a muffled reply since her keys her dangling from her clenched teeth. "Sorry? Could you repeat that? Maybe without the keys stuffed in your mouth."
Nori spat out the keys with a satisfying puh! "I said it'd be cool. Dwalin could really get out of the house and stop being surrounded by all those broken cars-"
"To be surrounded by slightly broken cars?" asked Bilbo with a laugh.
"Well, at least he'll just be taking it easy. It's nerve-wracking whenever he tries working on a car with that leg of his. I'll ask him when I get home, alright? He's babysitting Ori right now since Dori's been busy at the teashop ever since he got promoted to manager..." She continued talking about Dori's new position and this and that, but Bilbo could only think about the money she'd have to spend on a new car.
Hopefully it would be worth it.