Work Text:
Vex’ahlia slowly cruised down the line of well-dressed men and women, subtly ogling them as she pulled up to the head of the line. Yes, she thought, she could work with him. Hair prematurely white, even accounting for the furrow that seemed permanently etched in his brow. But handsome, with a certain nobility to his posture. And she liked someone with a little experience to them. Made the conversation more pleasant. She rolled down the window. “Going my way, stranger?”
“As long as where you’re going is the Pentagon,” he said agreeably, and when she nodded and unlocked the passenger door, he hopped in, tossing a small duffle bag at his feet.
“Sorry, only room for one,” she called apologetically, and rolled the window back up as she drove off.
“Indeed!” The white-haired stranger noticed the very large dog in the backseat for the first time.
“Trinket gets so lonely if I leave him alone for the day,” Vex explained. “But my boss is very understanding, so every day is bring your pet to work day. Sadly, he doesn’t count for the HOV lane,” she quipped.
“And where do you work?”
“Same as you. Procurement, civilian employee. Dreadfully dull but it pays the bills, and I’m quite good at it. You?”
“Defense contractor.” He smirked, but punctuated it with a self-deprecating eyeroll. “I’m literally a rocket scientist.”
“Does that line work?”
“No. No, it does not.” The stranger sighed and adjusted his fine wire-rimmed glasses. “Although, between work and my various side projects, I don’t have much time for romance.”
“Side projects?”
“I tinker, a little.” Then, he added: “And I’m trying to gather information on Senator Sylas Briarwood.”
Vex raised an eyebrow. The Senator and his wife were one of the most feared power couples on Capitol Hill. “Quite the hobby.”
It was then that smoke began to billow from under the hood of her car. Hissing swear words so Trinket wouldn’t hear, she pulled over to the side of the road. “Blast it, I’ll have to call AAA. And my boss.”
“Do you mind if I have a look?” The stranger was already getting out of the car. She gestured for him to continue and popped the hood latch. She rolled down the windows for Trinket and hopped out just in time to watch her hitchhiker unbutton and remove his shirt to reveal a surprisingly built set of arms and torso for a so-called rocket scientist. He then produced a small toolbox from his bag, and set to work. She watched, entranced, as he fiddled and tapped in what was, for her, sufficiently advanced science, to borrow the phrase. Down, girl! She cautioned herself. Just because some handsome doofus with a good job happens to fix your car doesn’t mean you have to swoon over him. Especially if he turns out to be the sort of sociopath who likes building weapons of mass destruction. She glanced back at Trinket, who panted cheerfully in the backseat. Trinket was usually a pretty good judge as to this sort of thing. He liked the rest of her friends. Well, except for Scanlan, but that was because Scanlan didn’t like Trinket for some reason.
On the other hand, she mused as she watched him put away his tools and wipe grease from his hands, nothing says you can’t at least buy the man a drink later. “I just realized - I never told you my name. Please, call me Vex.”
“Well, since we seem to be good enough friends for you to trust me with the engine of your car, you may as well call me Percy.” He finished packing up his things and, fortunately for her, left the shirt off, letting her ogle him in just the sleeveless top for a little longer. Until he cooled down, she supposed.
“In that case, Percy,” she continued as she got back behind the wheel. “Do you mind if I buy you dinner later? Repair work is certainly above-and-beyond the usual expectations for this sort of thing.”
The stranger - Percy - blinked, and adjusted his glasses. “I - Yes, that would be lovely, thank you.” She got the sense that he would have liked to bow if he wasn’t seated.”
“Excellent? Shall we say the Iron Hearth, 7:00 pm?”
“Lovely,” Percy agreed, and shared a smile with Vex as she pulled into the HOV lane.