In the Garage

by Lex Spork Tenou


Haruka was dressed in her old coveralls. They were worn, torn in various places and heavily stained with years of accumulated grease and oil. She leaned over the engine, trying to see where the problem was. A low whistle pierced the air, nearly causing her to hit her head on the raised hood.

"Ara, cutie, where you waiting for me?"

Haruka was so shocked that she actually did smack her head on the hood. With one hand clutching the back of her whining head, she extracted herself from the car's engine.

Michiru stood before her in her full glory. The shorts she wore could barely be called such. She had on a kerchief shirt that looked like it had been made with actual handkerchiefs. The smooth expanse of her stomach was exposed, along with the long gracefulness of her legs and arms.

Haruka could just about swear that her jaw was wide open and her chin was scraping the ground. She knew for damn sure her eyes were practically glowing with desire.

Michiru stood framed in the doorway of the garage for a moment longer before entering.

The only sounds that could be heard was the barest whisper of Michiru's bare feet across the floor under the strains of Jill Sobule in the background belting out "Karen By Night" and the occasional gasp as yet another mechanic in the garage beheld the sheer perfection of the beauty that was sauntering towards the grease, sweat and oil covered Haruka. The bongo drums could be heard in everyone's heads as they watched Michiru's hips sway back and forth.

Haruka still stood with her hand on her head, her mouth open and her eyes blazing with desire.

Michiru finally reached her and slid her arms up around Haruka's neck, pulling her head down for a long, slow, steamy, ask-no-questions-take-me-now-and-be-richly-rewarded kiss. Haruka's arms wrapped around Michiru almost by reflex

Michiru pulled back after a breathtakingly long amount of time. The rich smells of sweat, oil and grease filled her nose. Underneath that was the smell of Haruka, which blended in near perfection with the other smells.

"You're nearly finished with this aren't you, my love?"

Haruka nodded dumbly, entranced by the smoldering depths of her lover's eyes.

"Then you want to take me home now don't you?"

Haruka nodded again, more earnestly, and leaned down for another deep kiss.

Michiru pulled back, panting.

"Let's go home." Haruka followed Michiru out of the garage, a hand on the small of her back as though she were leading her out. At the door of the garage, Haruka stopped and turned, facing the mechanics who remained.

"What the hell do you think you're looking at?" The low growl filled the room. The mechanics averted their gazes as quickly as humanly possible. No one wanted to annoy the volatile racer, much less anger. The racer's cold rage was well known through out the tracks. There was even a legend about a mechanic who had made the mistake of trying to steal a kiss from the racer's girl.

The legend said it had been a nice funeral. For all fifty million pieces of him.

They walked out of the garage, and a collective sigh went up.

"What the hell did Tenou ever do to get her?" the whispered question was spoken almost reverently.


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