He unloads tools and supplies from the cart, carrying them in the door, then leaves the partly-empty cart parked right outside the door where they can see it at a glance.

"No guard today either," he observes. "We usually get one, working this end of the city. Eh well, most people know better than to bother me when I'm working. Yell if you see someone stealing from the cart."

And with a shrug, he gets to work, first helping her finish clearing the rubble and then starting in on rebuilding the frame of the stairs.

She'll gladly cut lumber to size and start fitting things into place. That frame will be rebuilt before too long. Do they have a ladder or something for when it gets higher up, or are the stairs not wrecked high enough to need one?

Ross does produce a ladder when they get that far. It's a big, sturdy thing - well, it would have to be, to hold his weight.

In the late morning, as it's getting toward lunchtime, a long-eared grey rabbit-man pokes his head in the door. "Hey!" he says. "Hey, Ross! Hey! Finally fixing up those stairs, huh?"

"You're late," Ross grunts. "C'mon in. Frank, this is Sable. Sable, Frank."

The rabbit-man finally sees that there is a second worker in here. "Oh, hey, newbie! Hey, newbie! Good to meetcha!" He clambers in around the cart half-blocking the door, unslings a clanking satchel from his shoulder, and goes where Ross points to help them fit the next beam into its place.

Excitable, but endearing. "Hello Frank. Good to meet you as well."

Each beam gets cut and fitted into place, firmly attached to its neighbors when needed. Pleasant enough work.

"How long have you been working maintenance with Ross, Frank?"

There's a faint whiff of alcohol on Frank's breath, but his hands are steady and his work is competent.

"Oh, since forever," says Frank. "I'm practically a veteran."

"Two years," Ross says mildly.

Frank gives an awkward half-laugh and bends more closely over the bracket he's attaching. "See? Practically a veteran. Practically."

Well, that's adorably dysfunctional. Nothing that growing up in New Orleans didn't leave them well used to by now, though. "Two years is quite the respectable stretch of experience."

Maya picks up the next beam and fits it into place when everyone's ready.

"I like to think so!" Frank agrees quickly, as Ross helps steady the beam and take some of the weight. Ross is really an invaluable presence on this kind of fairly hefty construction project.

He really is. And once it's steadied, it can be attached to its cross beams. Little by little the frame rises higher.

Ross calls lunch break before they've quite made it up to the next floor, but they're definitely getting there. From the vantage they've been working at, it's possible to see that the next stretch of stairs is only slightly more intact than this one, and at the end of those where there should be a top floor level with the top of the walls outside, there mostly... isn't. This is likely to be a multi-day project, even with all three of them working on it.

Lunch turns out to be a sackful of round buns filled with a savoury vegetable medley, and Frank is very excited about them. He scarfs down almost half as many as Ross, which is a pretty respectable amount. Even after those two have had their fill, though, there's enough for Maya to have a filling lunch and save plenty for later.

"Ah, that's the stuff," Frank sighs, stifling a belch and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. "Your hubby's the best baker in town."

"Nah," says Ross, amused. "He's good, but his girlfriend is better."

Frank flaps a dismissive hand. "Cupcakes," he scoffs. "Fiddly little pastries. Give me a good loaf of bread any day. Any day, I say!" He belches again, and this time misses the chance to cover his mouth.

She enjoys the vegetable buns with a calm smile, and saves some leftovers for dinner with Torok.

"These are quite delicious. I'm curious to try his girlfriend's cupcakes, however. All sorts of things can be delicious."

She eats another bite, then adds. "Also, I find the fact that relationships like yours are so casually accepted quite a relief. In the world I previously lived in, they really were not, by most people."

"Huh!" says Ross, surprised. "Relationships like what?"

"Anything other than heterosexual monogamy got funny looks. The approved standard was one man and one woman, no other partners. There was more recent acceptance for two men or two women, but two men marrying each other and one of them also has a girlfriend? That would get you some very disapproving stares, and in some areas it was illegal."

She shrugs. "I'm very glad to leave that world behind."

He shakes his head slowly. "Can hardly believe it. What a world."

Frank pipes up, "Not that you don't get funny looks."

Ross raises his eyebrows slightly.

"Well I just mean," falters Frank. "I mean, because he's—and you're—"

Ross shakes his head again and sighs. "Different folk," he explains to Maya, since Frank evidently won't. "Some people, old-fashioned, think it's fine to dally where you want but you got to settle down like with like. My ma caught a lot of that, a cowgirl with a half-satyr kid. I don't get it as much, but somebody left the crew over it, few years back. Soon as she met Ernie and saw he had scales."

"Really?" gasps Frank.

"'fore your time," sighs Ross. "I don't talk about it much."

Frank shakes his head in amazement.

She shakes her head. "My old world did not have people with animal traits, but there was discrimination about skin color, and it was similarly frowned upon for people of sufficiently different skin tones to settle down together. People always find ways to be cruel and judgmental, given a chance."

"Leaving the whole crew..." murmurs Frank, still shaking his head. "Really!"

"Really," says Ross, with a short nod. He dusts off his hands, takes a swig from the big jug of water in the cart, and offers it around. (Frank chooses to partake of his hip flask instead.)

Maya gladly has a drink of the water. It's quite nice. And then it's time to get back to work. That frame won't construct itself, will it?

It will not!

Together, the three of them get the whole arc of stairs between ground floor and mid-level floor framed up solidly and ready for actual steps to be installed. Frank clambers up the bare wooden beams to start clearing the rubble on the next floor while Ross and Maya handle installing those steps, and by the time they catch up to him, he's got the place in good enough shape that they can start framing up the next section (while Ross hauls the wreckage and salvage down the newly finished stairs and into the sorted piles on the ground floor).

Little by little this tower becomes functional again, and she's delighted to see it. Once they're on the second floor, she can start getting new beams into place again, and attaching them securely to the wall and their cross-beams.

Frank chatters while he works, gossiping about people Maya has never met, puffing up proudly and bragging of his great skill whenever he does an especially good job with something. He tones it down once Ross is back from hauling all that stuff downstairs.

Maya is calmly and warmly interested in anything discussed, even if it's framed in an excessively boastful way. Some people need their ego fluffed. "Is there anywhere you two would recommend to purchase tools?", she asks when the conversation dies down.

"My cousin's got a little shop, back of Salt Street," Frank offers, "'s where I get all of mine, good solid stuff at a decent price, even without the family discount."

"Mm," rumbles Ross. "I buy from Sylvie's, on Treasure Street. Higher price but you can't beat the quality."

"Thank you both," she replies with a smile.

"I'll show you to my cousin's anytime!" Frank adds. "He's just a few doors down Lemon Lane, real easy to find, real easy. But you know, with you new in town, can't be too careful."

She nods. "Indeed, always better to be careful." She does not commit to any particular time to seek out Frank's cousin. Sylvie's seems like the better option, frankly: buy good tools that will last a long time, in their opinions. Torok may hopefully have found Salt Street already. Actually...

"And Ross, could I prevail upon you for help finding Sylvie's if need be?"

Ross shrugs slightly. "After work?" he suggests.