"Less a rest break, more an ER visit."

They begin wiping at the greasy underside of the engine, hoping that they won't find that the damn thing's rusted through.

Mal reappears shortly, engine-less and wiping his hands on his pants.

"If'n we'd stopped just then, she'd not be the one having the ER visit."

"You must lead an interesting life, Mister... didn't catch your name?" They toss him a socket wrench and point to a bolt on the other side of the bloc.

"Mal. An' you?"

"Bel Forth - you can call me Bel." They stick out a greasy hand, made greasier from absently wiping it on the same rag they'd been using to clean the bottom of the engine block.

He has a firm handshake, but isn't trying to cause them injury with it.

"What brings a girl like you to live in a place like this?"

"Not a girl."

"Huh?"

"Think of me as more of an experience."

"I know a guy as calls himself Mister Universe," Mal muses.

"I'm the person who's gonna nurse your girl to health, let's leave it at that. As to why I'm here, well, I like the quiet. Ain't a bad place to set up shop, not many folks pass through here but the ones that do tend to have the most interesting problems. Had a fella in last week who'd been breathing antifreeze for a week, busted line. Surprised he was at my place and not a hospital."

"Sound of it, you get your fair share of adventure."

"We manage. How about you, stranger? Mysterious packages for mysterious customers sounds like quite the exciting life."

"More'n is rightly healthy."

They nod. "You gonna put that wrench to use?"

"Wouldn't wish to interfere with a lady's profession."

"I already told you, not a lady. Now help me strip this block or I'll be here all day." They turn back to the engine and take their own socket to the other side of the shaft.

He will assist in rendering the block nude, under their capable instruction.

They lean under the block squinting with the flashlight for any sign of leakage. Finding none, they nod with satisfaction and start walking out back, thumbs hooked in their belt loops. "Coming with?"

"Sure. Where we off to?"

"My backyard, aka the junkyard. You better hope we find a compatible engine we can strip for timing belts, or I'll need to improvise."

"An' wouldn't that be novel."

He follows.

"Less than I'd hope."

Their backyard is filled with the chassis of several automobiles in varying states of disrepair. Most are up on blocks, and several have the hoods popped open, displaying insides that are refreshingly straightforward for anyone who's had to deal with modern cars. Surrounding them is a ring composed of various engine blocks, driveshafts, body panels and stacks of tires. There's even a stripped down tractor. Clearly, they've been collecting for quite a while.

Bel walks over to the first of the open hoods with a tape measure and begins fiddling with the belts.

"Ooh."

He sets about circling the yard, vulture-like, peeking under hoods and poking at things.

They're not having much luck - understandable, given the age of the truck involved. They move over to a larger vehicle, some kind of pickup that has a grille up to their shoulders and hop up on the bumper to twang the timing belt. They contemplate it for a moment before discarding it as well. They're having a wonderful time.

"See anything you like back here?"