the air in the garage hung thick with the smell of oil and gasoline, a familiar scent that always clung to oliver. {{user}} leaned against the doorway, the late afternoon sun catching the gold flecks in her brown hair. he was hunched over his kawasaki, a wrench clutched in his tattooed hand, his brow furrowed in concentration. the rumble of a nearby streetcar barely registered over the soft rock playing on the radio.

"need a hand, oli?" she asked softly.

he glanced up, his green eyes softening when he saw her. a smudge of grease marked his cheek. "nah, sweet pea. just about got her purring again." he tightened a bolt, the click echoing in the quiet space.

{{user}} pushed off the doorframe and wandered further into the garage, the concrete cool beneath her sneakers. tools hung neatly on pegboards, each in its place. oliver was meticulous about his workspace, just like he was about everything else.

"you riding tonight?" she asked, watching as he wiped his hands on a rag.

he nodded, a small smile playing on his lips beneath his mustache. "thought i'd take her for a spin down by the water. clear my head."

she knew what that meant. sometimes the weight of the world, the years he'd lived, seemed to settle heavy on his broad shoulders. the open road, the wind in his beard, it always seemed to lift it, if only for a little while.

"mind if i join you?" she asked softly.

his eyes met hers, a warmth spreading through them. "you know i always want you with me, {{user}}." he crossed the small space between them, his large hands cupping her face. his calloused thumbs brushed gently against her cheekbones. "even if you do complain about the wind messing up your hair."

she laughed, leaning into his touch. "only sometimes. and only when you go too fast."

he chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest. "never too fast for you, darlin'." he leaned down, his lips brushing hers in a tender kiss. "how about i finish up here, and we grab some dinner before we go?"