paradisalogs | it's so much better in the sunlight

Who: Spike Spiegel, Once-ler, Anne Boleyn and OPEN
What: Fixing Cars
When: Backdated to December 21st, afternoon
Where: Stepford-land
Rating: PG

Expectations are always such a mood killer.

This time of year tends to be stressful anyway, so there's no explanation needed as to why Spike's not spending his afternoon with his spouse. Honestly, he's never fit in with the perfect family setting, which could account for why he tends to add to his wife's stress instead of fix their issues with his wit and charming personality. According to her, all their problems tend to revolve around his lack of ambition -- this time because he missed a day of work, because he found the concept so boring that he slept right through it. (Like they'd ever fire him anyway. That just doesn't happen in this town.)

So he's doing what he usually does when he needs some air and doesn't want the neighbors getting nosy; he's working on his car.

It's not any big deal, as far as he's concerned. She usually gets over it in time for dinner. Like clockwork. At the moment, he's content to bob his head to the music playing from a nearby radio and tinker in the garage with something that he's been meaning to get around to. And really, he can't think of anything else he'd rather be doing for the holidays.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Once raises his head from looking at the car. He'd been joking, but a little light vandalism never hurt anyone, right? And it'd make the day go by a whole lot quicker.

"Not especially."

That smile of his resurfaces and he gestures for him to close the hood. So what if the noise it's making alerts the neighbors when they're making their getaway? The risk is half the fun.

"Let's get going then."

And they can always blame it on someone else at the end of the day, anyway. Shifting the blame is a great bonding exercise. Once closes the hood with a grin.

"Awesome! We can think of a good cover story for mom on the way."

Maybe something involving sick children or...something.

Like he needs a cover story. Only if the heat gets involved. He walks over to the driver's side, only calling back over his shoulder.

"She's a little preoccupied. I doubt she'll even notice we're gone." Or she'll notice and say nothing. She's still steaming from his last bright idea, so the timing couldn't be better.

Once doesn't miss that, and gives his father a side eye as he gets into the passenger side.

"What did you do this time?"

"Nothing." Although he's avoiding his gaze when he says that. It's not a lie though, he literally did nothing and got in trouble for it. Make sense of that one. "It's Saturday. She's doing laundry."

Like all housewives do. They're as normal of a family as the next house, so there's no need to over-analyze these things.

When he starts the car, 'that sound' he'd been talking about seems to rumble up from the engine. It's ignored so he can pull out in peace. He's hoping his son knows enough not to point it out when he's already formed such a brilliant escape plan.

Once doesn't point it out, but the soft frown and the crane of the neck show he really wants to find the cause of that sound and Make It Stop. Still, the desire to spend quality time with a family member overrides that, and he sits back in the seat.

Seems some things never really change.

The plan to ignore it works all the way to the driveway, when there's a sudden shuddering followed by a choking sputter, then silence. Spike narrows his eyes when the car stops moving and aggressively turns the key again. And again.

One more time...

"Maybe I should have called first."

Once winces a little at the pained noises the car makes as Spike tried to make it move.

"Uh...maybe I should take a look."

That seems like a reasonable idea, but Spike doesn't move. Either he's trying to remember if he left something loose, or it jogged something else in his mind.

Like how odd it is that the car works fine when he takes it to work, but the second he starts getting ideas...

"It's fine. Don't worry about it."

Once is not good at leaving things be, especially mechanical things.

"Are you sure? I mean, it should only take a few seconds..."

Not fast enough. He hates it when his motivation gets dashed when he's right in the middle of something. Besides, if the theory is right...

"Don't you have a car?"

Once frowns a little confused.

"Yeah, I think I...have one?"

Maybe because his father should probably know if his son has a car. It's hard remembering things when you're distracted. Either way, he nods and opens the door.

"So let's take that one."

"Yeah...okay."

He distractedly gets out and then...pauses.

"I don't remember where I...parked it."

Does he even live in this house?

Does it make him a terrible person if he would have to think that question over? Once always was easy to overlook.

"Having fun without me?" He should be proud, right? Or angry. One of those.

"...Not the sort of fun you're implying, no."

Seems even in magical Stepford land, Once can't get any.

Whatever reaction he's supposed to be having at that first bit of news, the second part throws him off even further. Spike leans against the roof of the car, hand on his hip as he borders on a sympathetic look.

"That's too bad. I'm sure it'll work for you someday."

This was getting awkward. So awkward.

"...Yeah, thanks a lot for that."

He scratches the side of his nose, contemplating things Once doesn't want to hear, then nods and stomps out the remainder of his cigarette.

"Well, that leaves us with this heap." Reaching back inside, he pops the hood. Never say he never gave Once a break.

Once brightens up at that action, finally able to move away from a possibly dangerous and uncomfortable topic and instead being able to focus on his one true love.

"She'll stop being a heap in three seconds flat."

He smiles again. Sometimes it's good to be so easy to please. While he gets back to it, Spike walks over to the radio, turning it up again.

"Take your time."

it's so much better in the sunlight

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