Fic: Of Love and Levitating Dirigible Engineers
Of Love and Levitating Dirigible Engineers
Words: 3800
Thanks to: Thanks to: gelbwax for the plot, chibi_lurrel for shooting ideas back and forth, and starlingthefool, quiddative, & laria_gwyn for beta assistance.
Written for spn_reversebang
Art by: deannawesson over here.
Jared loves
Of Love and Levitating Dirigible Engineers
Jared loves junkyards.
It's probably a strange thing to love, but Jared's life is a motley assortment of strange things: mismatched socks, a robotic arm, a passionate hatred of the scent of roses. However, a deep and abiding affection for junkyards-if not outright love-is to be expected in his line of work; that is: inventor, clockmaker, and dabbler in watchmaking. Junkyards are a virtual treasure trove, filled with discarded objects all waiting to be repurposed into something new and better and exciting. It also helps, of course, that everything is free.
Everything has its attendant downsides, though, and the downsides to junkyards are numerous-including, but not limited to: suspicious odors, occasional junkvalanches, and the fact that there's nobody there to help carry out particularly excellent but cumbersome finds. Since useful parts can run the gamut from pocket-sized to larger-than-human-sized, this can present a significant problem.
Luckily for Jared, his faithful canine companion of unclear heritage (all any veterinarian has been able to tell Jared about Alphina the Magnificent's pedigree is that she is a 'dog that is big') is around to drag, haul, carry, and otherwise assist him with all but the largest of items. Also, aside from her weight-bearing capabilities, Alphina makes for excellent company. Junkyards do tend to be rather lonely places to frequent, day in and day out.
Jared's sorting through a pile of interesting looking cogs when Alphina sniffs the air and gives a short little bark. "Smell something good?" he asks, and the response is clearly yes when she bounds off.
He follows her into a small clearing bounded on three sides by a wall of what appear to be dirigible engine parts. More interesting-and, perhaps, alarming-is the motionless man propped up against the side of the wall of parts.
"Uh oh," Jared says as he approaches, hoping there'll be some sign of life. No such luck.
The man is young, seemingly uninjured, and there's a smear of engine oil on his cheekbone, under his closed eyes. He's dressed in a waistcoat and jacket, with a bowtie that was probably once jaunty but is now drooping a little. He's also startlingly, distractingly handsome, but that is probably not the sort of thing one should be thinking about possibly-cadaverous bodies found in junkyards.
"Please be alive," Jared says as he unfolds his retractable cane-slash-extra-long-pointer-slash-stick-for-poking-things. He prods a shoulder gingerly while Alphina sniffs and, before he can stop her, proceeds to lick a stripe up the maybe-corpse's face. "No, Alphina, we've talked about licking dead things before-"
The man opens his eyes.
Jared lets out an undignified shriek and stumbles back a few feet before using the cane part of his retractable device to catch himself. "You're alive?"
"You seem disappointed by that," the man says. His voice is deeper and gruffer than Jared expected, and he fixes Jared with a flinty look.
"I'm just not used to-er-well-seeing people here." Jared scratches his head. "Are you aware you're in a junkyard?"
"I noticed," the man says dryly as he gets to his feet. He's a bit more muscular than Jared first thought, too. "Must have dozed off. Comparing the pin alignment of out-of-production locomotive steam engine machinery is not that exciting, even for engineers."
"Locomotive-" Jared tries to tamp down on the excitement that suddenly surges up in his chest. "That's dirigible technology. Does that mean-are you a part of the crew of the Floating Impossibility?"
The man gives Jared an odd look. "I don't know whether to be impressed or disturbed that you already know what airship I work on."
"Well, you're obviously an outsider, and you're surrounded by a wall of dirigible parts." Jared shrugs. "And there's only one port in this town for an airship to dock in, which is currently occupied by the Floating Impossibility, so I'm hoping-impressed?"
The man chuckles, seemingly in spite of himself. "Impressed it is, then."
"So what's it like, being on an airship?" Jared asks, unable to suppress the questions that are practically bursting forth. "I once took a tour of the upper decks of a decommissioned dirigible, but I've never gotten the chance to fly in one or poke around the engine core."
The man raises an eyebrow. "You're interested in how airships work?"
"Oh yes! Well, it's more of a generalized interest in how everything works, not specific to airships, per se, but-" Jared takes a breath. "Sorry, I don't think I've introduced myself. I'm Jared, Inventor and Clockmaker Extraordinaire."
"I'm Chris." He sticks out his hand to shake. "Engineer. Ordinaire."
Jared shakes it, and his hand comes away a bit sticky with engine oil. At least-he thinks it's engine oil. "Oh, and this is Alphina the Magnificent."
"We've met," Chris says as she covers his hand in excited licks.
"She's not usually so friendly," Jared explains. He'd apologize, but Chris seems more amused than horrified at being covered in affectionate dog slobber. "She's an excellent judge of character whose only weakness is treats. So either you've got something delicious in your pocket or you're someone worth knowing. Seeing as it's a bit early in our acquaintance to go rummaging through your pockets, I'm going to assume that meeting you today was an auspicious event."
Chris smirks as he squats down, pulling a hard-boiled egg out of his pocket. He cracks the shell and offers it to Alphina. "Can't it be both?"
Jared watches Alphina devour the egg and then rub her head against a virtual stranger's arm in unadulterated joy and tries not to grin too broadly. "Mystery solved."
Chris stands up. "So the epithets. That a thing around these parts?"
"Oh no, not at all. In fact, it's considered downright bizarre," Jared replies cheerfully. "I always say that excellent titles have to start somewhere, though. And if you can't believe in yourself, who will? Besides," Jared smiles at Alphina, who has settled on the ground, apparently content, "she is, objectively speaking, magnificent."
Chris scratches her behind the ears. "You do have a point there."
This, Jared thinks, would be the time to ask the handsome not-dead stranger man in a junkyard out to coffee, or dinner, or brunch, or something suitably likely to lead to further talking and smiling and joking and possibly sex. Jared's recorded incidence of running into handsome strangers in the tiny town he lives in is not very high (2.56767 per year, to be exact) so right now would be the moment to, as his sister would say, grab life by the balls and shake it till something falls out.
But as Jared mentally drafts an invitation most likely to result in a yes or even a maybe, Chris ceases petting Alphina and says with some urgency, "What time is it?"
"Um." Jared fishes his pocketwatch-slash-can-opener-slash-magnifying-glass out of his pocket. "About half-past noon. Why?"
"Oh shit-" Chris bends down to seize his bag while muttering a string of very colorful expletives. "Do you know the fastest way out of here and back to town?"
"I can lead you to the exit, which should only take about ten minutes. But, well, it's about an hour's walk back to town."
"I'll never make it in time." Chris runs a hand through his hair and squints up at the sun. "My ship has a strict policy about timely departures and arrivals. No waiting for anyone, no matter who they are. A couple of trips back we even took off without Jensen, the ship's captain."
"Well, that's a bit draconian." Jared pauses as a thought occurs to him. "I have a motorbike parked just outside the yard. I could give you a lift back to town."
"You'd do that?" Chris blinks, and something resembling a smile begins to tug at his lips. It's almost enough to cause Jared to lose his train of thought.
"Of course. There's just one small-" Jared hesitates. "I mean, I'm sure it's-"
"Look, I just need to get out of here," Chris says, taking a step forward. "Whatever it is, I can deal. Get me to the airship dock and I'll take it from there."
This is how Chris ends up jammed in the sidecar of Jared's motorbike, hair whipping wildly in his face while they cruise along the road back to town.
"I'm really sorry about your hair," Jared shouts, trying to be heard over the rushing wind. "And about the size of the sidecar. I designed it to fit Alphina."
"What?" Chris yells back.
They reach the airship dock in time to see the Floating Impossibility being unlashed from its moorings before drifting off in the air.
"Well, fuck," Chris says as he half-climbs, half-falls out of the sidecar.
Jared pushes his goggles up to his forehead and watches the dirigible disappear into the horizon. "Sorry. I drove as fast as I could."
"It's okay. Not your fault." Chris sighs as he tries to run a hand through his hair again, but it gets stuck halfway. "I shouldn't have fallen asleep. Must have gotten too used to catnapping around dirigible engine parts."
"You're sure they won't come back for you?"
"Oh, they'll come back. It just won't be until after the delivery is over, so it'll take at least a week or so." Chris looks down at the bag of engine parts in his hand. "Damn, these upgrades would have really helped speed that up."
Jared takes off his cap and glances over at Chris. "So what are you gonna do?"
"Have a stiff drink and then find a place to stay for the week." Chris jerks his chin at the bar down the street. "Buy you a drink for a good try?"
"Oh! Um. Definitely. I mean, yes." Jared coughs, and hides his smile behind his fist. It's not socially appropriate to be reveling in joy when others are miserable, his sister would say. But it's hard to not be happy when the handsomest man Jared's met in a long, long while has asked him out for a drink.
It turns out that finding a hotel for Chris to stay in is a far more difficult feat than anyone could have imagined.
"I'm sorry, but the only openings we have are for four days from now, after the Clockworking Convention is over," the receptionist at the tenth hotel they visit says regretfully. "We're fully booked until then."
"Alright, thanks anyway," Chris says as they leave yet another hotel, luckless. "You know what I hate? Clockworking conventions. And I didn't even know they had such a thing until today."
"Clockworking conventions," Jared says, glowering. "They ruin lives. With their rules, and their uptight judges, and lack of sense of humor."
"Yeah, exactly-wait, what?"
"You submit one clock with a single, exceedingly minor malfunction, and no one ever lets you live it down," Jared mutters.
"Is this minor malfunction something like it stopped telling time, or a malfunction where it exploded into a fiery inferno and burned down a building?"
"There may have been a very, very small explosion," Jared admits. "But besides a few singed eyebrows, no one was hurt!"
Several hours and six hotel rejections later, Jared's feet are starting to hurt, Alphina the Magnificent is starting to appear less magnificent, and Chris' jaunty bow is positively bedraggled. "I'm starting to think my best bet is going back to that junkyard and setting up camp," Chris says.
"What? No, that's not-you can't do that," Jared says, dismayed. "A nap is one thing, but staying overnight-"
"It's not my first choice, but I'm kind of running out of options here," Chris replies, looking up at the sky again. "Gonna be night soon."
"Come stay with me," Jared says, and he can already hear his sister's voice in the back of his head, scolding him about being impulsive. "It's not a hotel, but I have a spare room that you can sleep in, at least until you can get yourself a room-"
"Jared, no." Chris shakes his head. "You've already gone above and beyond. I couldn't."
"But you bought me that drink," Jared points out. "And-hey, you could be my temporary lab assistant. That's whose spare room you'll be staying in, and I've been looking for a new one anyway."
"What happened to your old one?"
"Oh she, uh." Jared coughs. "She ran off to join an airship crew."
Chris laughs. "And so the universe taketh away, and then it giveth."
Jared smiles, tentatively. "So you'll stay?"
"Well, I wouldn't want to deprive you of a lab assistant," Chris replies, smiling back a little, too.
"This is my lab," Jared says as he guides Chris through the minefield of half-finished projects and scattered tools. "It's where I invent things. The door at the end leads to my prototypes, which is what you'll be helping me with. My previous assistant was quite a bit smaller than you, but most of the protective gear should still fit. Sort of."
"Protective gear?" Chris raises an eyebrow. "What exactly am I going to be testing?"
"Oh, you know, basic safety and operations tests, nothing to worry about," Jared assures him. "Some of the stuff I can test on my own, but for other things I need an assistant to use the prototype while I make observations and calibrate. Currently at the top of my list are: a multifunctional helmet, boots and a waistpack which enable you to levitate off the ground, and ink that can't be seen from up close, but can be read from a distance."
A grin spreads across Chris' face, and Jared feels his heart rate accelerate by approximately 14.76%. "Sounds fun. Well, maybe not the ink, but the first two."
Jared ducks his head as he leads Chris into the spare bedroom. "This is the spare bedroom. I haven't gotten the chance to build a second bed yet, so you'll be sleeping on the chaise lounge I recently designed. It's already been safety tested by my previous assistant." Jared flips open an arm to reveal a console filled with buttons and knobs. "This is the control panel. Here, you can adjust the speed at which the couch moves."
"It-moves?"
"Oh yes!" Jared says, enthusiasm bubbling up again. "It cradles you like a newborn infant at varying speeds and angles. Very soothing, if I do say so myself. Also, there's an umbrella for if you ever want to be rocked to sleep outside in rain or shine, and there's a lighter for your pipe."
"That's-" Chris coughs. "That's a lot of things for a-chair."
"My last assistant didn't smoke. Nor did she want to sleep outside in the rain or shine. But maybe after a night on this multipurpose lounge, you'll feel inspired," Jared says hopefully. Then he pauses and adds, "Sorry, I'm probably talking too much. I've been told I can get a little excited about my ideas, and when I get a little excited I tend to go on. And on and on."
"It's alright." Chris shrugs one shoulder, seeming unperturbed. "You're enthusiastic about making things work. I get that."
Jared glances at the canvas bag of dirigible parts lying on the floor next to Chris and smiles, suddenly feeling bashful again. "Yeah, I guess you do."
"Good morning!" Jared says as he turns on the toast-and-egg-maker. He loves mornings. "How'd you sleep?"
Chris makes some sort of half-grunting noise as he rubs his eyes and yawns. "Breakfast?"
"Breakfast," Jared agrees amiably as he turns to set his modified kettle-and-popcorn-maker down on the stove. "Today we're going to be testing the levitation boots and pack. I've been working on these for months and I'm excited to see how they work on non-inanimate objects."
"Mrg," Chris says as he leans his head on one hand and closes his eyes.
"You want me to climb onto the roof of your three-storey house and then leap off with forty pounds of equipment strapped to my legs and waist?" Chris says.
"Hey, you're awake and speaking in whole sentences now," Jared says, delighted. "And yes. Basically."
"Look, Jared, I like flying. But-not like this."
"But there's a safety mattress and you have protective padding and a helmet," Jared protests, dismayed. "And my tests-"
"How about this," Chris says. "I climb to the top of that doohickey over there and then I fall down? It looks about ten feet off the ground, which should be enough for some initial tests."
"You mean my medium-sized windmill?" Jared considers. "Well, okay. I guess I can use the data to extrapolate-"
"Great," Chris says, already heading over to climb the ladder to the windmill top. "Here we go."
After some false starts, and shouting of instructions back and forth about how to actually activate each boot and the waist pack, Chris successfully manages to step off the windmill and levitate. Sort of. Actually, it's more that he falls to the ground at more a delayed pace than he would otherwise.
"Well." Chris blinks up at Jared, lying flat on his back on the mattress. "That went better than I expected. Also, this mattress is amazingly comfortable."
"Oh yeah," Jared says absently in between scribbling down notes. "I used to use a giant tarp to catch my assistants in, but setting it up every time was such a hassle and one day a wild animal mysteriously ripped it in half, so I put together this thing instead."
"Seriously, Jared, this is may be the most comfortable mattress I have ever lain on," Chris says, wriggling onto his side. "Why am I sleeping on the chaise lounge when you have this mattress?"
"Because the chaise lounge was made for sleeping. And this is just a testing mattress," Jared says, confused by the question. "There aren't even sheets or-" he stops when he realizes that Chris' eyes are shut, and he isn't moving. "You're asleep again, aren't you?"
The only response he gets is a soft snore.
The rest of the tests go relatively well. The multifunctional hat only catches fire once, and the ink visible only at a great distance works exactly as Jared intended it to.
"I'm going into town to drop this off with my sister," Jared says as he packs up the ink dispenser. "Do you need anything?"
Chris looks up from examining the miniature windmill Jared is working on. "You have a sister?"
"Technically half-sister. But yes, she lives in town, above the general store." Jared holds up his package. "She's the one who sells my inventions."
"Well, I suppose I could use a few things. Like a second set of clothing," Chris says, glancing down at the outfit he's been wearing for the past two days.
They walk to town, Jared pointing out the various local landmarks (there aren't many) as Alphina runs around, as excited to smell everything as ever. When they reach the general store, Jared introduces Chris to his sister before Chris politely excuses himself to make a trip to the tailor down the street.
"Every time I go with you to the junkyard, there's nothing there but junk," Alona says once Chris is gone. "The one time I skip the trip, you bring home a sexy engineer. How is this fair?"
"Ahaha, well." Jared rubs the back of his neck, blushing. "He is pretty, um. He's something, huh?"
"So have you…?"
"I'm waiting for the right moment," Jared replies. "To, um. Say something."
"My little brother," Alona says, voice full of affection. "Mad inventor, still afraid to talk to boys."
When Chris returns with a new set of clothing in tow, they all have lunch in the middle of the general store, while Alona proceeds to sell Chris about half their inventory. Afterwards, Jared takes Alphina for a walk and leaves Alona with a look that says, do not take all of my sexy engineer's money. She gives him her most wide-eyed expression in return.
Jared returns in time to overhear a sliver of their conversation. "-going to have to do it," Alona says.
"Hey," Jared says when he enters the back room, where Alona and Chris are sitting. "I miss anything?"
"We were just talking about you behind your back," Alona says, matter-of-factly.
"All terrible things, of course," Chris deadpans.
"Haha, you two." Jared chuckles uneasily. "Chris, are you ready to go back?"
"Probably should before your sister persuades me to buy anything else." Chris gets up and slings a decidedly fuller rucksack over his shoulder. "It was nice meeting you. Very-informative."
"Feel free to come around anytime," she replies with a wave. "I restock every Tuesday."
When they get back home, Chris heads to the kitchen and begins unpacking his bag. "You like pork chops?"
"I love pork chops," Jared replies. "You making dinner?"
"I thought I'd make use of some of the new gadgets I've picked up." Chris pulls out the scissor-slash-knife-slash-can-opener Jared invented last year.
"Um," Jared says eloquently as something warm and fluttery rises up in his stomach.
The dinner is good, and not just because of the whisky that Chris produces from the depths of his bag, or the fact that he uses no less than four of Jared's inventions. At the end of it, Jared is feeling relaxed and content as he says, "That was really amazing."
"Thanks for letting me stay with you," Chris says, as he takes another swig of his whiskey.
"I feel like I should be thanking you for being my substitute lab assistant," Jared replies. "Sorry for setting your hair on fire."
"It's alright. I needed the haircut anyway. Besides," Chris reaches out to take Jared's hand and guides it to touch the ends of his hair, right by his jaw, "it's fine now."
"Um." Jared's brain short-circuits. Chris' hair is very soft.
"I'm going to kiss you now," Chris says as he leans in. "Say um if you're on board with this plan."
"Um," Jared says.
Later, when Jared is lying in bed next to Chris, sated and cozy, he says, "I know the Clockworking Convention ends tomorrow, but I was thinking. You could stay here, maybe. Until your airship comes back."
Chris smiles. "Yeah?"
"Or, you know." Jared slides closer to him. "For as long as you want."
Epilogue
"I spoke to Jensen," Chris says. "I cleared Alphina-"
"You-what?" Jared abandons tinkering with his experimental pocketwatch-slash-magnifying-glass-slash-wind-vane. "You want me to live on your airship?"
Chris blinks. "I didn't even finish my sentence. How did you-"
"Oh my god." Jared throws his arms around Chris. "I'm going to be a dirigible pirate!"
"We're not exactly pirates-"
But Jared's already off and running. "Alphina, did you hear that?" he says as he dashes over to hug her, too. "We're moving to a new home in the sky!"
fin
Poll Fic: Of Love and Levitating Dirigible Engineers
Words: 3800
Thanks to: Thanks to: gelbwax for the plot, chibi_lurrel for shooting ideas back and forth, and starlingthefool, quiddative, & laria_gwyn for beta assistance.
Written for spn_reversebang
Art by: deannawesson over here.
Jared loves
Of Love and Levitating Dirigible Engineers
Jared loves junkyards.
It's probably a strange thing to love, but Jared's life is a motley assortment of strange things: mismatched socks, a robotic arm, a passionate hatred of the scent of roses. However, a deep and abiding affection for junkyards-if not outright love-is to be expected in his line of work; that is: inventor, clockmaker, and dabbler in watchmaking. Junkyards are a virtual treasure trove, filled with discarded objects all waiting to be repurposed into something new and better and exciting. It also helps, of course, that everything is free.
Everything has its attendant downsides, though, and the downsides to junkyards are numerous-including, but not limited to: suspicious odors, occasional junkvalanches, and the fact that there's nobody there to help carry out particularly excellent but cumbersome finds. Since useful parts can run the gamut from pocket-sized to larger-than-human-sized, this can present a significant problem.
Luckily for Jared, his faithful canine companion of unclear heritage (all any veterinarian has been able to tell Jared about Alphina the Magnificent's pedigree is that she is a 'dog that is big') is around to drag, haul, carry, and otherwise assist him with all but the largest of items. Also, aside from her weight-bearing capabilities, Alphina makes for excellent company. Junkyards do tend to be rather lonely places to frequent, day in and day out.
Jared's sorting through a pile of interesting looking cogs when Alphina sniffs the air and gives a short little bark. "Smell something good?" he asks, and the response is clearly yes when she bounds off.
He follows her into a small clearing bounded on three sides by a wall of what appear to be dirigible engine parts. More interesting-and, perhaps, alarming-is the motionless man propped up against the side of the wall of parts.
"Uh oh," Jared says as he approaches, hoping there'll be some sign of life. No such luck.
The man is young, seemingly uninjured, and there's a smear of engine oil on his cheekbone, under his closed eyes. He's dressed in a waistcoat and jacket, with a bowtie that was probably once jaunty but is now drooping a little. He's also startlingly, distractingly handsome, but that is probably not the sort of thing one should be thinking about possibly-cadaverous bodies found in junkyards.
"Please be alive," Jared says as he unfolds his retractable cane-slash-extra-long-pointer-slash-stick-for-poking-things. He prods a shoulder gingerly while Alphina sniffs and, before he can stop her, proceeds to lick a stripe up the maybe-corpse's face. "No, Alphina, we've talked about licking dead things before-"
The man opens his eyes.
Jared lets out an undignified shriek and stumbles back a few feet before using the cane part of his retractable device to catch himself. "You're alive?"
"You seem disappointed by that," the man says. His voice is deeper and gruffer than Jared expected, and he fixes Jared with a flinty look.
"I'm just not used to-er-well-seeing people here." Jared scratches his head. "Are you aware you're in a junkyard?"
"I noticed," the man says dryly as he gets to his feet. He's a bit more muscular than Jared first thought, too. "Must have dozed off. Comparing the pin alignment of out-of-production locomotive steam engine machinery is not that exciting, even for engineers."
"Locomotive-" Jared tries to tamp down on the excitement that suddenly surges up in his chest. "That's dirigible technology. Does that mean-are you a part of the crew of the Floating Impossibility?"
The man gives Jared an odd look. "I don't know whether to be impressed or disturbed that you already know what airship I work on."
"Well, you're obviously an outsider, and you're surrounded by a wall of dirigible parts." Jared shrugs. "And there's only one port in this town for an airship to dock in, which is currently occupied by the Floating Impossibility, so I'm hoping-impressed?"
The man chuckles, seemingly in spite of himself. "Impressed it is, then."
"So what's it like, being on an airship?" Jared asks, unable to suppress the questions that are practically bursting forth. "I once took a tour of the upper decks of a decommissioned dirigible, but I've never gotten the chance to fly in one or poke around the engine core."
The man raises an eyebrow. "You're interested in how airships work?"
"Oh yes! Well, it's more of a generalized interest in how everything works, not specific to airships, per se, but-" Jared takes a breath. "Sorry, I don't think I've introduced myself. I'm Jared, Inventor and Clockmaker Extraordinaire."
"I'm Chris." He sticks out his hand to shake. "Engineer. Ordinaire."
Jared shakes it, and his hand comes away a bit sticky with engine oil. At least-he thinks it's engine oil. "Oh, and this is Alphina the Magnificent."
"We've met," Chris says as she covers his hand in excited licks.
"She's not usually so friendly," Jared explains. He'd apologize, but Chris seems more amused than horrified at being covered in affectionate dog slobber. "She's an excellent judge of character whose only weakness is treats. So either you've got something delicious in your pocket or you're someone worth knowing. Seeing as it's a bit early in our acquaintance to go rummaging through your pockets, I'm going to assume that meeting you today was an auspicious event."
Chris smirks as he squats down, pulling a hard-boiled egg out of his pocket. He cracks the shell and offers it to Alphina. "Can't it be both?"
Jared watches Alphina devour the egg and then rub her head against a virtual stranger's arm in unadulterated joy and tries not to grin too broadly. "Mystery solved."
Chris stands up. "So the epithets. That a thing around these parts?"
"Oh no, not at all. In fact, it's considered downright bizarre," Jared replies cheerfully. "I always say that excellent titles have to start somewhere, though. And if you can't believe in yourself, who will? Besides," Jared smiles at Alphina, who has settled on the ground, apparently content, "she is, objectively speaking, magnificent."
Chris scratches her behind the ears. "You do have a point there."
This, Jared thinks, would be the time to ask the handsome not-dead stranger man in a junkyard out to coffee, or dinner, or brunch, or something suitably likely to lead to further talking and smiling and joking and possibly sex. Jared's recorded incidence of running into handsome strangers in the tiny town he lives in is not very high (2.56767 per year, to be exact) so right now would be the moment to, as his sister would say, grab life by the balls and shake it till something falls out.
But as Jared mentally drafts an invitation most likely to result in a yes or even a maybe, Chris ceases petting Alphina and says with some urgency, "What time is it?"
"Um." Jared fishes his pocketwatch-slash-can-opener-slash-magnifying-glass out of his pocket. "About half-past noon. Why?"
"Oh shit-" Chris bends down to seize his bag while muttering a string of very colorful expletives. "Do you know the fastest way out of here and back to town?"
"I can lead you to the exit, which should only take about ten minutes. But, well, it's about an hour's walk back to town."
"I'll never make it in time." Chris runs a hand through his hair and squints up at the sun. "My ship has a strict policy about timely departures and arrivals. No waiting for anyone, no matter who they are. A couple of trips back we even took off without Jensen, the ship's captain."
"Well, that's a bit draconian." Jared pauses as a thought occurs to him. "I have a motorbike parked just outside the yard. I could give you a lift back to town."
"You'd do that?" Chris blinks, and something resembling a smile begins to tug at his lips. It's almost enough to cause Jared to lose his train of thought.
"Of course. There's just one small-" Jared hesitates. "I mean, I'm sure it's-"
"Look, I just need to get out of here," Chris says, taking a step forward. "Whatever it is, I can deal. Get me to the airship dock and I'll take it from there."
This is how Chris ends up jammed in the sidecar of Jared's motorbike, hair whipping wildly in his face while they cruise along the road back to town.
"I'm really sorry about your hair," Jared shouts, trying to be heard over the rushing wind. "And about the size of the sidecar. I designed it to fit Alphina."
"What?" Chris yells back.
They reach the airship dock in time to see the Floating Impossibility being unlashed from its moorings before drifting off in the air.
"Well, fuck," Chris says as he half-climbs, half-falls out of the sidecar.
Jared pushes his goggles up to his forehead and watches the dirigible disappear into the horizon. "Sorry. I drove as fast as I could."
"It's okay. Not your fault." Chris sighs as he tries to run a hand through his hair again, but it gets stuck halfway. "I shouldn't have fallen asleep. Must have gotten too used to catnapping around dirigible engine parts."
"You're sure they won't come back for you?"
"Oh, they'll come back. It just won't be until after the delivery is over, so it'll take at least a week or so." Chris looks down at the bag of engine parts in his hand. "Damn, these upgrades would have really helped speed that up."
Jared takes off his cap and glances over at Chris. "So what are you gonna do?"
"Have a stiff drink and then find a place to stay for the week." Chris jerks his chin at the bar down the street. "Buy you a drink for a good try?"
"Oh! Um. Definitely. I mean, yes." Jared coughs, and hides his smile behind his fist. It's not socially appropriate to be reveling in joy when others are miserable, his sister would say. But it's hard to not be happy when the handsomest man Jared's met in a long, long while has asked him out for a drink.
It turns out that finding a hotel for Chris to stay in is a far more difficult feat than anyone could have imagined.
"I'm sorry, but the only openings we have are for four days from now, after the Clockworking Convention is over," the receptionist at the tenth hotel they visit says regretfully. "We're fully booked until then."
"Alright, thanks anyway," Chris says as they leave yet another hotel, luckless. "You know what I hate? Clockworking conventions. And I didn't even know they had such a thing until today."
"Clockworking conventions," Jared says, glowering. "They ruin lives. With their rules, and their uptight judges, and lack of sense of humor."
"Yeah, exactly-wait, what?"
"You submit one clock with a single, exceedingly minor malfunction, and no one ever lets you live it down," Jared mutters.
"Is this minor malfunction something like it stopped telling time, or a malfunction where it exploded into a fiery inferno and burned down a building?"
"There may have been a very, very small explosion," Jared admits. "But besides a few singed eyebrows, no one was hurt!"
Several hours and six hotel rejections later, Jared's feet are starting to hurt, Alphina the Magnificent is starting to appear less magnificent, and Chris' jaunty bow is positively bedraggled. "I'm starting to think my best bet is going back to that junkyard and setting up camp," Chris says.
"What? No, that's not-you can't do that," Jared says, dismayed. "A nap is one thing, but staying overnight-"
"It's not my first choice, but I'm kind of running out of options here," Chris replies, looking up at the sky again. "Gonna be night soon."
"Come stay with me," Jared says, and he can already hear his sister's voice in the back of his head, scolding him about being impulsive. "It's not a hotel, but I have a spare room that you can sleep in, at least until you can get yourself a room-"
"Jared, no." Chris shakes his head. "You've already gone above and beyond. I couldn't."
"But you bought me that drink," Jared points out. "And-hey, you could be my temporary lab assistant. That's whose spare room you'll be staying in, and I've been looking for a new one anyway."
"What happened to your old one?"
"Oh she, uh." Jared coughs. "She ran off to join an airship crew."
Chris laughs. "And so the universe taketh away, and then it giveth."
Jared smiles, tentatively. "So you'll stay?"
"Well, I wouldn't want to deprive you of a lab assistant," Chris replies, smiling back a little, too.
"This is my lab," Jared says as he guides Chris through the minefield of half-finished projects and scattered tools. "It's where I invent things. The door at the end leads to my prototypes, which is what you'll be helping me with. My previous assistant was quite a bit smaller than you, but most of the protective gear should still fit. Sort of."
"Protective gear?" Chris raises an eyebrow. "What exactly am I going to be testing?"
"Oh, you know, basic safety and operations tests, nothing to worry about," Jared assures him. "Some of the stuff I can test on my own, but for other things I need an assistant to use the prototype while I make observations and calibrate. Currently at the top of my list are: a multifunctional helmet, boots and a waistpack which enable you to levitate off the ground, and ink that can't be seen from up close, but can be read from a distance."
A grin spreads across Chris' face, and Jared feels his heart rate accelerate by approximately 14.76%. "Sounds fun. Well, maybe not the ink, but the first two."
Jared ducks his head as he leads Chris into the spare bedroom. "This is the spare bedroom. I haven't gotten the chance to build a second bed yet, so you'll be sleeping on the chaise lounge I recently designed. It's already been safety tested by my previous assistant." Jared flips open an arm to reveal a console filled with buttons and knobs. "This is the control panel. Here, you can adjust the speed at which the couch moves."
"It-moves?"
"Oh yes!" Jared says, enthusiasm bubbling up again. "It cradles you like a newborn infant at varying speeds and angles. Very soothing, if I do say so myself. Also, there's an umbrella for if you ever want to be rocked to sleep outside in rain or shine, and there's a lighter for your pipe."
"That's-" Chris coughs. "That's a lot of things for a-chair."
"My last assistant didn't smoke. Nor did she want to sleep outside in the rain or shine. But maybe after a night on this multipurpose lounge, you'll feel inspired," Jared says hopefully. Then he pauses and adds, "Sorry, I'm probably talking too much. I've been told I can get a little excited about my ideas, and when I get a little excited I tend to go on. And on and on."
"It's alright." Chris shrugs one shoulder, seeming unperturbed. "You're enthusiastic about making things work. I get that."
Jared glances at the canvas bag of dirigible parts lying on the floor next to Chris and smiles, suddenly feeling bashful again. "Yeah, I guess you do."
"Good morning!" Jared says as he turns on the toast-and-egg-maker. He loves mornings. "How'd you sleep?"
Chris makes some sort of half-grunting noise as he rubs his eyes and yawns. "Breakfast?"
"Breakfast," Jared agrees amiably as he turns to set his modified kettle-and-popcorn-maker down on the stove. "Today we're going to be testing the levitation boots and pack. I've been working on these for months and I'm excited to see how they work on non-inanimate objects."
"Mrg," Chris says as he leans his head on one hand and closes his eyes.
"You want me to climb onto the roof of your three-storey house and then leap off with forty pounds of equipment strapped to my legs and waist?" Chris says.
"Hey, you're awake and speaking in whole sentences now," Jared says, delighted. "And yes. Basically."
"Look, Jared, I like flying. But-not like this."
"But there's a safety mattress and you have protective padding and a helmet," Jared protests, dismayed. "And my tests-"
"How about this," Chris says. "I climb to the top of that doohickey over there and then I fall down? It looks about ten feet off the ground, which should be enough for some initial tests."
"You mean my medium-sized windmill?" Jared considers. "Well, okay. I guess I can use the data to extrapolate-"
"Great," Chris says, already heading over to climb the ladder to the windmill top. "Here we go."
After some false starts, and shouting of instructions back and forth about how to actually activate each boot and the waist pack, Chris successfully manages to step off the windmill and levitate. Sort of. Actually, it's more that he falls to the ground at more a delayed pace than he would otherwise.
"Well." Chris blinks up at Jared, lying flat on his back on the mattress. "That went better than I expected. Also, this mattress is amazingly comfortable."
"Oh yeah," Jared says absently in between scribbling down notes. "I used to use a giant tarp to catch my assistants in, but setting it up every time was such a hassle and one day a wild animal mysteriously ripped it in half, so I put together this thing instead."
"Seriously, Jared, this is may be the most comfortable mattress I have ever lain on," Chris says, wriggling onto his side. "Why am I sleeping on the chaise lounge when you have this mattress?"
"Because the chaise lounge was made for sleeping. And this is just a testing mattress," Jared says, confused by the question. "There aren't even sheets or-" he stops when he realizes that Chris' eyes are shut, and he isn't moving. "You're asleep again, aren't you?"
The only response he gets is a soft snore.
The rest of the tests go relatively well. The multifunctional hat only catches fire once, and the ink visible only at a great distance works exactly as Jared intended it to.
"I'm going into town to drop this off with my sister," Jared says as he packs up the ink dispenser. "Do you need anything?"
Chris looks up from examining the miniature windmill Jared is working on. "You have a sister?"
"Technically half-sister. But yes, she lives in town, above the general store." Jared holds up his package. "She's the one who sells my inventions."
"Well, I suppose I could use a few things. Like a second set of clothing," Chris says, glancing down at the outfit he's been wearing for the past two days.
They walk to town, Jared pointing out the various local landmarks (there aren't many) as Alphina runs around, as excited to smell everything as ever. When they reach the general store, Jared introduces Chris to his sister before Chris politely excuses himself to make a trip to the tailor down the street.
"Every time I go with you to the junkyard, there's nothing there but junk," Alona says once Chris is gone. "The one time I skip the trip, you bring home a sexy engineer. How is this fair?"
"Ahaha, well." Jared rubs the back of his neck, blushing. "He is pretty, um. He's something, huh?"
"So have you…?"
"I'm waiting for the right moment," Jared replies. "To, um. Say something."
"My little brother," Alona says, voice full of affection. "Mad inventor, still afraid to talk to boys."
When Chris returns with a new set of clothing in tow, they all have lunch in the middle of the general store, while Alona proceeds to sell Chris about half their inventory. Afterwards, Jared takes Alphina for a walk and leaves Alona with a look that says, do not take all of my sexy engineer's money. She gives him her most wide-eyed expression in return.
Jared returns in time to overhear a sliver of their conversation. "-going to have to do it," Alona says.
"Hey," Jared says when he enters the back room, where Alona and Chris are sitting. "I miss anything?"
"We were just talking about you behind your back," Alona says, matter-of-factly.
"All terrible things, of course," Chris deadpans.
"Haha, you two." Jared chuckles uneasily. "Chris, are you ready to go back?"
"Probably should before your sister persuades me to buy anything else." Chris gets up and slings a decidedly fuller rucksack over his shoulder. "It was nice meeting you. Very-informative."
"Feel free to come around anytime," she replies with a wave. "I restock every Tuesday."
When they get back home, Chris heads to the kitchen and begins unpacking his bag. "You like pork chops?"
"I love pork chops," Jared replies. "You making dinner?"
"I thought I'd make use of some of the new gadgets I've picked up." Chris pulls out the scissor-slash-knife-slash-can-opener Jared invented last year.
"Um," Jared says eloquently as something warm and fluttery rises up in his stomach.
The dinner is good, and not just because of the whisky that Chris produces from the depths of his bag, or the fact that he uses no less than four of Jared's inventions. At the end of it, Jared is feeling relaxed and content as he says, "That was really amazing."
"Thanks for letting me stay with you," Chris says, as he takes another swig of his whiskey.
"I feel like I should be thanking you for being my substitute lab assistant," Jared replies. "Sorry for setting your hair on fire."
"It's alright. I needed the haircut anyway. Besides," Chris reaches out to take Jared's hand and guides it to touch the ends of his hair, right by his jaw, "it's fine now."
"Um." Jared's brain short-circuits. Chris' hair is very soft.
"I'm going to kiss you now," Chris says as he leans in. "Say um if you're on board with this plan."
"Um," Jared says.
Later, when Jared is lying in bed next to Chris, sated and cozy, he says, "I know the Clockworking Convention ends tomorrow, but I was thinking. You could stay here, maybe. Until your airship comes back."
Chris smiles. "Yeah?"
"Or, you know." Jared slides closer to him. "For as long as you want."
Epilogue
"I spoke to Jensen," Chris says. "I cleared Alphina-"
"You-what?" Jared abandons tinkering with his experimental pocketwatch-slash-magnifying-glass-slash-wind-vane. "You want me to live on your airship?"
Chris blinks. "I didn't even finish my sentence. How did you-"
"Oh my god." Jared throws his arms around Chris. "I'm going to be a dirigible pirate!"
"We're not exactly pirates-"
But Jared's already off and running. "Alphina, did you hear that?" he says as he dashes over to hug her, too. "We're moving to a new home in the sky!"
fin
Poll Fic: Of Love and Levitating Dirigible Engineers