For the few of you keeping up with this, I'm sorry for the wait.

. : Right Place, Right Time : .

Chapter 3

The narrow stairwell was filled with the sounds of evening traffic and the rhythmic tramp of boots. The heavier they got, the more he was out of breath. Not so much for the climb 3 flights up but more that and having to argue with the demands screeched from the phone at his ear.

"I told ya it wasn't urgent!" He stopped on a stair. Walking and talking and thinking was just a bit too much to do all at once. "I need to take care of this one. I said I'll get to the rest — Well I don't care, ah'right? Let me do my job how I wanna do my job."

He earned himself a click from the other line.

Muttering complaints, he pressed the phone into a pocket in his bag and finished the last bit of his trek, the tools clinking and jingling with each step.

Under a worn brass plaque marked "301", he knocked. Immediately the door opened and his brow knit. It just swung open on it's own or...

"Mommy!"

His gaze dropped to see a little girl scamper away.

Without anyone to object, he peered in and then stepped in, hiking his pack up his shoulder. The sounds of the tv greeted him along with an intermittent voice and a few clacks of what sounded like a spoon on the edge of a saucepan. He wandered further inside.

"Mommy," the girl was repeating, tugging on her mother's shirt as she stood there in front of the stove.

It occurred to him that he didn't know her name.

"Emma I already told you." She cradled the phone between her ear and shoulder. "You wanted mac and cheese, I can't make it unless you wait."

"Can't really blame her..."

A grin slid across his face when she jumped in surprise.

Picking it up, she stood there in silence and tucked a stray strand behind her ear. "I have to go... I'll call you back."

The child wandered out to the living room, leaving the two alone.

"I uh.." Mai set down the spoon and drummed her fingers across the counter. "Had to ask the neighbour for water... I thought you said you couldn't get to it 'til tomorrow."

Well that had been true when he'd told her originally... He shifted his pack off and dropped on the floor near a wall, metal inside chiming loudly. "The other job for today fell through."

Job as in jobs.

Fell through as in forcibly rescheduled to the following day.

"Oh," her dark lips formed the sound.

She looked different, all made up. Tired. Though, he knew that had nothing to do with all the paint.

Wiping a palm across the back of his jeans, he offered a hand. "You know, I never caught your name. It's Joseph by the way, Joe if ya like."

She shook his hand. He just seemed like the type... "How about Joey?"

"That works too. Though you'd be the first..."

"I'm Mai."

"Mai," he repeated and smiled. "I'll get out of your hair for now."

"Oh that's okay, I'm almost done. I'll let you have the kitchen."

In a moment she did, disappearing on into the living room with a bowl in one hand and a juice box in the other.

It was a quick job, he thought, flashing the coppery new fittings a grin before he shut the cabinet.

As it happened, she walked in just then. "I was going to ask how things were going... You're done already?"

If only for the awe on her face, he hesitated. When was anyone ever impressed with what he did..? "Yeah... Usually it takes a while but the parts fit in real well and everything this time around."

That said, he began gathering up the odds and ends scattered over the kitchen table.

"You don't have to go." She was quick to add more, "I mean.. Are you hungry? It's almost seven."

"Don't worry about it," he said. "I was gonna catch some take out from the place next door."

Just then, Emma flew in with a squeal and grabbed his hand, leading the way into the living room.

"Emma-" Mai was silenced when Joey shot her wink.

And, to her pleasant surprise, she was soon left to play spectator while the pair leaned on the coffee table, scribbling away.

"Here, here!" Emma was pushing her papers in front of him.

"Alright let's see..." He screwed up his face in exaggerated concentration. "Okay I got nothing. What is it?"

"It's a butterfly!"

"Oh." He smiled at her. "These are the wings right?"

Emma nodded several times.

"So you like butterflies, huh?"

"Nope!"

Dramatically, he threw up his hands and sighed, making her laugh. "Then why are you drawing 'em?"

She pointed at her mother.

"Ah." He grinned and glancing from Mai to her daughter. "So mom's the one that likes 'em."

"Yeah."

This said, it was back to scribbling.

In another hour, Emma was out like a light, curled up on the carpet.

Mai had only just gotten up from the couch when Joey had already scooped Emma up from the floor.

"Oh my god," she breathed in surprise, quickly offering her own open arms. "I got her."

Carefully, he handed Emma over.

Mai tucked her in and shut the door quietly, soon wandering back to the living room.

"You never ate, did ya?" he asked.

"No..." she trailed and shot him a confused look.

On one side of the kitchen table were metal pieces and tools yet to be packed.

On the other was a half dozen cartons and containers, gaudy red designs stamped on the sides.

The two of them sat near this end, her dabbing at the corner of one eye amidst laughter and him storytelling, with all the grand gestures for doing so.

"No, no see," Joey said, "he didn't even know so he just rounded the corner—"

"And there it was," Mai finished, laughing.

He nodded and laughed all at once, unable to add any more to the story.

After a long moment, mirth faded into ease.

The pair exchanged small smiles.

"Thanks for the takeout, by the way," Mai said. "You didn't have to."

"It's just from the same place I'd already planned to go." He shrugged. "Thought company might be better than a silent apartment."

So he lived alone.

"What do you do exactly?"

"Just this. Fixin' stuff." It seemed as if he'd say more and she let him. "Keeps the lights on at least."

From the living room, voices from the tv murmured.

Absently, he chased a bit of rice around on a paper plate.

"I don't know how people do it." She gestured to the wood bits in his hand.

"Chopsticks?" Ah it's easy." He pulled his chair closer and turned his hand around to show her. "Try it."

Snapping apart a new pair, she sat as clueless as ever. "Okay what am I doing here?"

"One like this," he said and gestured. "an' the other one like this."

Mai huffed in annoyance and frowned at her hand. Well it looked right but it felt weird. "There's no way you can eat like this!"

Laughing, he freed his hands and took the troubled one of hers in the both of his. "People've done it a long time," he told her and moved her fingers around the wood.

"I..." Her attempt to ignore the warmth of his hands was floundering. Somewhere in her ears was the low thrum of her own heart. "It still feels weird."

He glanced up and caught her eyes. "It'll work, just try it."

Withdrawing slowly, she reached for a dumpling. And he was right, it worked.

"Hm," she hummed thoughtfully through a mouthful.

"See, I told ya."

"Still feels weird. I'm probably doing it wrong."

"Lemme see... Well ya' could do it like this..." he reached to move her fingers once more. Only, this time he stopped almost as soon as he began. A brow knit, he took the chopsticks from her and set them elsewhere, turning one of her palms up.

Too late, she realised why; he was running fingertips along the still-mending cut there. And suddenly he was as serious as he was quiet. "What happened?" Before she answered, he figured it out. "Happened yesterday, didn't it?"

The words were stuck in her throat. He was touching the mark carefully. It seemed forever that he did and then, all too quick, he withdrew his hands.

Over the quiet, she heard him suck in a breath only to let it out in a sigh.

Then came a sense of conclusion lest the ease of the night carry on.

"I should get going."

Mai began closing cartons and snapping lids on plastic parts. "Take some with you," she said and talked on when he prepared to object, "you bought it anyway, I don't need the guilt."

"Only a little," he argued. "I don't have space for more than one."

But she wouldn't hear of it.

Door shutting behind him, he chuckled and trekked on down the stairs, a few cartons in hand.

. : End 3 : .

Apologies this one was short but I've got to get back to updating or I'll just keep putting it off altogether...

As always, reviews and such are much appreciated.