Work Text:
«Where did you even learn that?»
Pearl lays on the ground, head under the engine of your motorbike. She peeks out, wiping a drip of oil from her cheek, and smiles.
«Years of practice» she answers. She then goes back to swing the wrench where it's needed.
She’s been fixing it since thirty minutes now, and all you’ve done has been sitting on the bench, arm crossed, and stare. There is something thrilling in watching Pearl work – maybe it’s the way she moves her hands, or how her eyes shine, or how her body bends a little.
Maybe it’s because she decided to help you the very moment you told her that your bike was giving you problems, that it stopped again in the middle of the road. She gave you a long confident talk about her knowledge of human’s technology, and she said something about having built a spaceship, once. You’re not sure if she was flirting, or expecting a cheesy line about stars in response – but she did appreciate your amazed look.
You keep watching her, and wonder how on Earth can this girl be able of working on an engine laying at the edge of a sidewalk, with a box full of tools that has appeared almost magically next to her.
«I can fix the basic things» you say, because you’ve known her for just a week but you were supposed to be the cool, mysterious, hardcore one, and here she is fixing your motorbike like it’s nothing. «You know, a flat tire or whatever. But the engine… I would have spent all my money to a mechanic if it wasn’t for you!»
«It is no problem» she answers, and you watch a little too closely as drips of oil fall on her cheeks and her – you still aren’t certain about what she’s always wearing on her forehead, and you feel like it would be impolite to ask. «We can’t risk for you to be left without a transport in the middle of the road. Safety first».
You can’t help but snicker, mocking, but tenderly mocking.
«Says the one who got chased by the cops».
Pearl’s body has a little spasm at your words, and she hits her forehead against the engine. You’d worry she got hurt, but she slides away from the motorbike and raises herself to sit showing no sign of pain. She’s only blushing, you can see it even if the oil slightly covers her cheeks.
«That-» she stutters, and you keep smirking and oh, she’s adorable. «That was a simple recall of the times I was a dangerous criminal wanted by the law».
«You were wanted by the law?» you parrot, and raise one eyebrow, unconvinced. «For what? Illegal cuteness?»
Pearl blushes harder, and it seems to you that her cheeks fall more on a shade of blue than on a shade of red, but you wouldn’t bet on it. She bites her bottom lip, looks away, and when she looks back at you she’s suddenly smirking.
She winks, and for a second you’re glad you’re already sitting.
«You’d be surprised of all the illegal things I’ve done in thousands of years».
You snicker again at the clear exaggeration, and Pearl appears satisfied. You enjoy her little smile before she lays down again, going back to work.
That girl is strange, you think as you keep staring at her. You can’t tell how old she is, and that is only one of the mysteries that hang around her. Maybe that’s why you’re so interested – you like mysteries, you like girls, and you sure like mysterious cute girls with a sweet voice and high knowledge of space and motors.
You also will never believe at her flaunted criminal record without seeing it. That girl is too adorable to be a criminal.
«Done» Pearl wakes you up from your thoughts, and you stare as she gets up and puts her hands on her hips, proud. «It shouldn’t give you any more problems. I also took the liberty of adding something – not much, but you’ll see that the speed has now considerably improved».
You get up and move next to her – she stirs, as if she doesn’t know how to act, and stands still. You shoot her a glance and smile, reassuring.
«So it goes faster now?»
«As I said».
«So I can come visit you more often».
Pearl gulps. She smiles back.
«If you wish».
You will have to ask her about her house one of these days, where she lives, where she works. You know that she maybe babysits – she has talked about a boy named Steven various times, and she seems to care about him very much. For now, however, you’re content by stroking the saddle of your bike and look at her hands twisting the wrench between her fingers.
«Would you like to go for a ride?» you offer, and you wink. «To check how fast it goes».
Pearl blushes, and this time you’re fairly sure her cheeks are blue. Drawn by the phenomenon, you cup her cheek with one hand, wiping away the oil. Pearl goes still and the tool slips from her hands, it falls on the ground and the metal echoes as your fingers gently graze her skin, her chin, her lips.
You’ve never been more aware of your lip piercing than now.
You retreat your hand, worried to have made her uncomfortable. You’re probably blushing, too. You scratch the back of her neck and hop on the motorbike, trying to regain your cool. You take your helmet, wear it, and grab another that you hand Pearl: you’re glad to see that she doesn’t appear as still as before.
«First time riding a bike?» you ask.
Pearl hesitates for a moment, but then takes the helmet and stares at it, confused or maybe uncertain.
«This kind, yes» she answers. «I owned a tandem bicycle, however».
You try to hold off – she seems serious and still hesitant you don’t know if she’s worried or uncomfortable or doesn’t like you – but you burst out in a laugh.
«Where did you even get a tandem bicycle?» you’ve only seen those in museums.
«Oh, they were extremely common in the middle eighties» Pearl looks up from the helmet and smiles, and her eyes are blue and shiny and you’ve never seen anyone look this happy and at ease talking about history of bicycles.
Pearl tilts her head and stares at you, and before you can wonder why, she twists the helmet in her hands and puts it over her head. She struggles a little on the buckle, but not enough for you to ask and help her. She then gets on the bike, right behind you – you get distracted by the way her leg elegantly moves. She looks around, holding at the saddle.
You turn the bike on, the motor rumbles, and Pearl has a sudden jump and hugs you, grasping at your shirt. You’re only sad that you can’t see her face.
She mumbles something against your back and starts to retreat her hands, but you grab one of hers with yours and turn around as much as you can, smiling.
«No. Keep them here. You’ll have to hold on if you were truthful about the speed».
«I – I was» she answers, maybe only a little offended, and does as you say: she holds you, and all the questions you have can be delayed.
When you rush, the bike is fast, but your heart is faster.