Title: Scenes of Other Worlds
Author: Cypher
Fandom: Static Shock (of course)
Summary: What if the Big Bang never happened? What if super heroes weren't the norm?
Spoilers: Minor ones for Future Shock
Rating: R, for mature scenes in some worlds
Warnings: This chapter, some swearing, flirting...mention of blowing things up.
Disclaimer: I don't own Static Shock, DC (or some subsidiary of it) does. I'm just borrowing the characters and settings to flex my creative muscles.
Distribution: Ask and thy shall recieve.
Author's Notes: Richie is good with his hands, and that's part of what inspired this chapter (that, and the fact that I haven't mentioned the gas station yet). Also inspired by the AU Challenge table prompt: Writer's Choice (yes, I know, but it fit the AU world and it was too good to just...ignore). Enjoy!

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"Hey Gear! Haul your ass out here!"

"I'm busy!"

"Doing what?"

"Your mother! Now shove it, Adam!" Richie heard a growl. "It can wait five minutes!"

"I got a foreign car here! That's YOUR area of expertise!"

"Just get what's wrong and I'll look at it in a minute!" He was rebuilding an engine for Christ's sake!

"It's some fancy big shot that wants help now!"

"Tell him the garage will blow up if I leave what I'm doing!"

There was a pause. "Rich…"

"I'm not mixing fuels again!" He muttered, "Jesus, blow a hole in the roof once and you're branded for life." A few minutes later he had reached a breaking point and sat back, pulling off the latex gloves. He didn't get much time to work on his own engine designs, and he hated when he had to be interrupted. Sighing, he stood and headed for the front of the garage.

The funny thing about this situation was HE was the boss. He'd found this abandoned gas station when he'd been a teen. He spent hours after school tinkering with auto parts, killing time so that he wouldn't have to go home to his wreck of a house. After high school he got a job, went to community college, and after a couple years made an offer on the place. Now he owned it.

It wasn't anything fancy, and he wasn't raking in the moola--hell, he practically lived in a rat hole--but it's what he wanted to do with his life. Fixing cars paid the bills, and trying to create more efficient vehicular parts and cleaner fuel was just a hobby. He'd taken a few courses--still did when he had a little extra cash--and was known around the neighborhood as an honest, decent guy to take a car to.

He spotted Adam immediately as he entered the small shop. Adam was older than him by a couple years, and had appeared on his doorstep shortly after he renovated the place. The guy was only asking for minimum wage and a chance. Richie gave it to him.

So what if Adam had a criminal record for stealing. As long as he was in the black at the end of the month with enough extra to live off of, he didn't care if the ex-con stole from him. Considering the quality of merchandise, the guy probably needed it if he was willing to steal the crappy junk food. Adam had served his time, and Rich needed help. And thus far, the guy had kept his life turned around.

"There you are." Adam jerked his head towards the door. "The guy--Mr. Hawkins--is outside. Says to meet him out there." The man stretched forward a bit. Richie was always amazed at how agile the guy was. "So what're you working on?"

"Another engine design."

Adam shook his head, sat back, and pulled out a magazine from under the counter. "You got too many projects, Rich."

"And you've got too few." Pulling out a fresh set of gloves, he headed outside. Hawkins…he went to high school with a Hawkins for a year or so. That'd been one of the students transferred to the high tech school. His father had always been disappointed he didn't get invited there--he cut THAT thought trail off before it got too far.

He could see why Adam called him. The ex-con knew the basics of car repair, but this was definitely an import, higher quality than the streets of Dakota usually saw. The car, however, was entirely disproportionate to the man standing next to it. Mr. Hawkins's hair was a mishmash of dreadlocks, and he wore worn jeans and a shirt. But then, how would he know how the rich lived, or thought for that matter.

Putting on a small smile, he snapped on the gloves. "Mr. Hawkins, what seems to be the problem?"

Mr. Hawkins grinned widely, making him look years younger than he probably was. "Virgil, and the problem is the professor thinks I'm his personal slave rather than his assistant."

Ah, so it wasn't Mr. Hawkins--Virgil's car. "Well, what seems to be the problem?"

"He says it's the brakes, and to replace the oil, rotate the tires, and check the battery while you're at it." Virgil stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "He said a few other things, but I figure you'll check all the basics, right?"

"Always do." It was one reason his clients kept coming back. He didn't charge them for ALL the work he did, just what they asked him for. He enjoyed the work. Near-mindless tasks freed up his mind to think up new fuel equations and auto parts. "Hood popped?"

"Yep." Virgil watched him as he lifted said hood. "Do I know you?"

"I think we went to high school for a year."

"You mean before I transferred?"

"Yeah." Richie was starting to enter what Adam called his 'automated response' phase. He listened to the customers, vaguely processed what they were saying, and regurgitated concise responses. Why? He was otherwise engaged doing preliminary surveillance of the vehicle.

"Some memory you got there."

"Comes in handy." He could already tell the professor hadn't taken as excellent care a car of this caliber needed. Overworked without enough maintenance.

"So you know who I am, you are…?"

"Richie." He checked the water level and shook his head. "Foley."

"The guy in there called you Gear."

"He found me playing around with shift gears once." Well, actually, it was about once every couple weeks. It was Adam's version of teasing him.

"They call me Static."

"Uh huh."

"Because I play with electricity all the time."

His mind was now preoccupied with estimating how long it would take to do all the requested work, and about how much it would cost. "Uh huh."

"And I have the ability to make people stick to the wall just by hugging them."

"Yeah--what?" He blinked and looked at the black man. It took him a minute to process that Virgil was just trying to grab his attention. "Oh, sorry. Just doing…" He sighed through his nose and shut the hood. "Electricity, you say?"

"Yeah. I work at the Alva Research Lab in the electromagnetic physics department."

"Huh, interesting." Richie glanced at the car. "When's he need it by?"

"He wants it by today." Virgil's arms crossed, hands sliding automatically into the armpits. "When can you have it done by?"

"Probably tomorrow, at the earliest." Assuming no one with a more dire need came in. "Thursday, more likely."

"Oh, he'll love that." Virgil's grin turned into a smirk. "Think you could drag it to Friday? He's been riding my ass all week and this would be some nice payback."

"Assuming I got started right away, probably not." Richie smirked as well. "But darn it all, you came JUST as I was heading for a long lunch."

"Well gosh darn the luck." Virgil glanced to the garage. "So this your place?"

"Yep."

"Looks cool."

"Cool? What are you, sixteen?"

"You'd think so to hear my peers talk."

Richie opened his mouth to respond, but Adam's voice stopped him. "Hey, Gear! You got smoke coming from the workshop!"

"Oh shit!" He jogged towards the station, looking over his shoulder. "I'll be right back!" Okay, so he hadn't been mixing fuels, but he HAD been burning an experimental one. Of course, he'd forgotten all about it.

"You and your memory-"

"Shove it, Stretch." He ducked into the backroom and headed for the work table. No major fire, just a Bunsen burner blackening a test tube. He shut off the gas, opened the window, and used tongs to set the ruined tube into the sink. Well, that was one experiment ruined. Fortunately, he had notes, he'd just have to remake the mixture, repeat the experiment…

Crisis averted, he shook his head and returned to the front, where Virgil was leaning against the counter. "Sorry about that."

"So that blow up comment earlier wasn't just to ignore me."

Adam snorted, and Richie felt his cheeks turn a bit red. "Dangers of working with gas."

"More like an easily distracted mind."

Richie poked the magazine Adam was reading. "Don't you have stuff to restock?"

"Nope."

"Then why don't you move Virgil's car into the garage bay." Richie raised an eyebrow at Virgil, who promptly pulled the keys out and placed them on the counter. "And get the reg info."

Adam made a sour face, but set the magazine down, grabbed the keys, and did as Richie said.

"Cheerful sort, ain't he."

"He's not half bad." Pulling a stool out, he took a seat and began typing on the computer. "Let me get you the initial estimate for him."

"No rush. He thinks I'm gonna be here all afternoon until you finish."

"Not unless you're staying till Friday."

Virgil raised his eyebrows. "Well, I dunno your policy on sleeping with clients, but if the bed's big enough…"

Richie's fingers slipped on the keyboard, accidentally telling the command prompt to back-up all files. He wasn't worried about the fact that he essentially locked himself out of his system for twenty minutes, mainly because he was staring at Virgil's amused face. "What?!"

"Course, I've never slept with a mechanic before. If I have to share mattress space with a big wrench, we might have a problem."

Richie felt his mouth move, but no sound came out. This seemed to amuse the black laboratory man even more, as shoulders began shaking while laughter poured out of the--he had to admit--attractive lips. After a minute, he found his voice again. "Well, no big wrench, but there might be a screw or two you have to deal with." This caused Virgil to laugh even harder, head lowering to the counter. "Course, I'm not cheap."

Virgil took a moment to compose himself, raising himself on his arms. "Oh? I heard you had the lowest price in town." The man said it with a straight face, but Richie could tell the laughter was barely being contained.

Richie was tempted, very tempted, to follow through with the next innuendo, but he DID have work to do. So, he'd make it simple. "Szechwan Court. Seven pm. Tonight. You're buying."

Virgil raised his eyebrow, but the man held out a hand. "Coffee at my place afterward?"

Richie shook it. "Will there be chocolate?"

The grin on Virgil's face was positively lecherous. "White and dark."

"Then definitely coffee at your place."

Virgil retracted his hand. "Catch ya at seven." The brown eyes raked over him. "Wear something…"

"Sumptuous?"

"I was gonna say sexy, but that works." Virgil waved and headed for the door, still grinning. "Seven tonight."

Richie continued sitting on the stool, only remembering after the man was out of sight that he hadn't printed up the initial estimate. Ah well, he'd bring it to dinner tonight. Now, if he could just stop smiling and focus on his work again…

Adam re-entered and took the other counter seat, glancing at Richie. A groan issued from the man's throat.

"What?"

"You've got that 'I'm gonna get laid tonight' grin again." Adam sighed theatrically. "How many holes are you gonna put in the roof THIS time?"

"Hey, Francis was NOT responsible for the explosion!" Yeah, he'd been a wee bit distracted by the idea of running his hands over the red head's body… Virgil wasn't as well built, but there was definitely a subtle sensuality about the man that caught his attention…

"Oh God, you're thinking of it right now! I can tell!" Adam shuddered and got back up. "I'm gonna go hide the chemicals. Try NOT to crash the computer," he glanced to the screen, "again."

Richie made no promises, but he did pull his hands away from the keyboard. Just in case.