RP: Motorcycle Angst
Date: December 27, 2004
Characters: Hermione Granger, Roger Davies
Location: The shed behind 35 Alpha Lane
Status: Private
Summary: Roger attempts to fix his recently acquired motorbike. With mixed results.
Completion: Complete
So, it was cliched. Roger could concede to himself that it was an oft-used male stereotype.
But he'd never used it before, so sod it. This bike was being a bitch. He was going to give it a female name. Men didn't run all hot one moment, then cold the next. With men, what you saw was what you got. There weren't all these hidden issues that you didn't sign on for. You didn't replace the wheels, rotate and balance them just to try and start it and find out that the ignition was faulty and the sodding fan belt missing. And now that he'd found a fan belt, he couldn't get the bleeding thing on properly. He was starting to wonder if the effing engine even needed a cooling system. Surely it was cold enough, for now, to skip that step?
Whatever. He was going to call it Lucy. He'd known a Lucy, once upon a time. And she'd been almost as ornery as this bike.
It was a nice bike, though, he mused. He'd known when he'd first seen it that she was the one. And when he got it fixed-- by some means or other-- he would shine it up, replace the headlights, poilish the chrome. She'd be beautiful. That was why he so frustrated now. He was antsy to take her out on the road. He wanted to learn how to ride, so he could drive her to his heart's content.
If only Lucy, here, would cooperate, he'd be home free. He straddled the bike one more time, tried the ignition again. Nothing. Looking around him briefly, he crouched beside the bike and turned his attention back to the engine and pulled out his wrench and removed the fan belt again. Now that he'd established it was called Lucy... maybe while he worked, he could try to use some of the lines that had worked on the real Lucy. Couldn't hurt, and if he were talking, maybe then he wouldn't be able to hear the bike mocking him in the silence of the shed.
"Come on, love," he murmured, adjusting the radiator cap with a gentle hand. "You know you want to."
Characters: Hermione Granger, Roger Davies
Location: The shed behind 35 Alpha Lane
Status: Private
Summary: Roger attempts to fix his recently acquired motorbike. With mixed results.
Completion: Complete
So, it was cliched. Roger could concede to himself that it was an oft-used male stereotype.
But he'd never used it before, so sod it. This bike was being a bitch. He was going to give it a female name. Men didn't run all hot one moment, then cold the next. With men, what you saw was what you got. There weren't all these hidden issues that you didn't sign on for. You didn't replace the wheels, rotate and balance them just to try and start it and find out that the ignition was faulty and the sodding fan belt missing. And now that he'd found a fan belt, he couldn't get the bleeding thing on properly. He was starting to wonder if the effing engine even needed a cooling system. Surely it was cold enough, for now, to skip that step?
Whatever. He was going to call it Lucy. He'd known a Lucy, once upon a time. And she'd been almost as ornery as this bike.
It was a nice bike, though, he mused. He'd known when he'd first seen it that she was the one. And when he got it fixed-- by some means or other-- he would shine it up, replace the headlights, poilish the chrome. She'd be beautiful. That was why he so frustrated now. He was antsy to take her out on the road. He wanted to learn how to ride, so he could drive her to his heart's content.
If only Lucy, here, would cooperate, he'd be home free. He straddled the bike one more time, tried the ignition again. Nothing. Looking around him briefly, he crouched beside the bike and turned his attention back to the engine and pulled out his wrench and removed the fan belt again. Now that he'd established it was called Lucy... maybe while he worked, he could try to use some of the lines that had worked on the real Lucy. Couldn't hurt, and if he were talking, maybe then he wouldn't be able to hear the bike mocking him in the silence of the shed.
"Come on, love," he murmured, adjusting the radiator cap with a gentle hand. "You know you want to."