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From outside, there's a sick rumble of a motorcycle that is in need of some work. Steve Rogers cuts the engine early and coasts into the main entrance, limping to the finish line. When he comes to a stop, he pulls his aviator sunglasses from his eyes and hooks them upon his exposed shirt that lies under his brown bomber jacket. He's tried to fix some of this himself, but it just isn't working. He got a tip from a friend at Frank's Tavern that this Joe guy was a pretty good mechanic.
*
At the sound of the sickly bike, Jo Kelly peers out from under the chevy she's currently working under. Her hands grab the underside of the chassis and she hauls herself out, the wheels of the cart she's laying on squeaking. She rises, dragging a rag from her pocket to clean her hands before heading for the front of the shop.
*
"Hi there," Steve says as he nods to the bike. "I'm wondering if I can find Joe. A friend told me about this place and I was hoping he could take a look at my bike before the weekend, if at all possible." Jo may or may not recognize Steve from the news, either old or new. He's recently part of the disbanded Avengers team and decently well known. "Nice garage you guys got here," he says absently.
*
"I like it," Jo says, her smile somewhat lopsided at the man's words. Words she's heard more times than she can count. "Yeah, Old Joe's not around, right now. But let's see what you've got, anyway. I can tell you how long it'll take." Without quite waiting for the man to follow. She does recognize him — from more than one source, truth be told. No matter, though. She's not in the habit of pressing people unduly. She steps lightly around the bike, looking it over with a critical eye. "It been making that chugging sound long?"
*
"It just started this morning when I was heading up from Midtown. Couldn't figure it out and thought I'd better get it looked at. Tried to take a look at it, but I'm not the best with the wrench," he admits. "Been workin' here long?" he asks, a bit worried about how much the fix is going to cost him. Recently fired, and all that.
*
"Couple of months," Jo replies with a smile. That's about how long ago the 'sold' sign went up on the property. She crouches down beside the bike, now, and runs a friendly hand over it. With an expert twist of her wrist and thumb, she moves part of the motor casing away and peers inside. "Hmm." Her lips purse as she begins her examination. Seems she does, in fact, know her way around the machine. "Yeah. This shouldn't take too long. Looks like it's either a clog or maybe a bad connector." She stands up, letting the casing fall back into place. "Can probably finish it later this afternoon. Just as soon as we're done with the chevy." She lifts her chin towards the back, where the fin of an older model chevy can be seen. "Won't be more than $75, I think, unless it's more than it looks."
*
Steve breathes a sigh of relief, "That's a lot better than I was expecting. You mind if I stick around here and wait?" He takes a look around the garage, gauging the area for whether there's a reception area for guests to wait, or if the mechanics just want them to hit it and come back later.
*
There are a couple of worn, vinyl chairs near the counter with the cash. They're not in bad shape, though they've seen better days. They're certainly suitable for waiting in, an unlikely to dirty clothing, which does bespeak a certain care given to the place. "Sure," Jo says, flashing the man a smile. "Might be a bit of a wait, but feel free." She starts retreating to the garage proper, though her voice carries as she continues to speak. "Looks like your bike's seen some wear, though. You had it long?"
*
"Bought it used, when I got back to New York. Needed something that would be mobile enough in the city, but something that was still fun to drive. Didn't want one of those bugs, or anything like that." Steve groans a bit as he takes a seat and crosses one jeaned leg over the other.
*
Jo lowers herself back down on to the flat cart and grabs a couple of tools before she pushes herself back under the chevy. "Can't blame you," she says. "I keep a '55 Triumph in the back for jaunts around the city. Whole lot easier to maneuver through the cabs that way." She's not a fan of taxis, really.
*
"Not a bad idea," Steve replies. "You lived in New York long? You said you only been around a few months," he calls out after, continuing the small talk. "Seems like traffic is pretty bad in this day and age." He leaves out the part about what it was like in the 30s.
*
He doesn't need to add it, in any case. Jo remembers well enough. "Gets worse every year," she agrees. There's a bit of noise as she wrestles with part of the chevy's exhaust system, but nothing that sounds dangerous or threatening. "Yeah, I only moved back to the city three or four months ago. You? This is your hometown, isn't it?" Yeah. He's recognizable to her. "Or, near enough?"
*
"Brooklyn," Steve says with a chuckle. "So there's not anywhere else in the world I'd rather be. Still, it's changed a lot." He just assumes she knows, now. He can't even take a walk without being stopped, so he's getting more and more used to it. "Did the city draw you back, then?"
*
Jo makes another couple of adjustments to the chevy's exhaust before sliding out from beneath it. "Seemed like a good time to come back," she says, glancing towards him with another smile and a light shrug. Again, she wipes her hands on the rag and then moves around to the driver's side of the car. "Busier than I remember, though." Less horses, too, though she doesn't mention that. Reaching into the car, she gives the key a twist in the ignition. After a moment, the starter turns over and the motor flares to life. The car sounds smooth and there doesn't seem to be any backfiring or other indications of an exhaust problem. This is good! She smiles at her success and turns the car off shortly thereafter.
*
"Sounds like you got that one running," Steve says. Apparently he's abandoned his seat on the leather chair and is now leaning out over the space that looks into the garage. "Automobiles were still such a new thing back when I was a kid. We never had one. I didn't even really drive until I got into the service."
*
Jo chuckles at that. "Yeah, that doesn't surprise me." She pulls the keys from the ignition and straightens, heading back to the front room to join him. Or, more accurately, to pull the paperwork on the chev and update it, pinning the keys to the clip board. "Nowadays, they're pretty much indispensable, it seems. Transit isn't bad, I suppose, but the car is king." She slides the clip board away and looks up to the man with a smile. "How about we pull that bike into the bay?"
*
"Sounds like a plan," Steve doesn't waste any time. Rather he almost skips over to the motorcycle and straddles it. Then, putting his feet flat on the ground, he pushes it with far more ease than is normal into the bay. "I probably should have gotten her looked at before I bought her, but I was honestly just in a pinch."
*
Jo crosses into the bay and picks up a few tools from around the chevy. She puts them into a metal box on a rolling cart and then pushes it towards the bike as the man settles it in place. "There's nothing wrong with buying a fixer-upper," she says. "It's the lemons you gotta look out for. But, I think this one'll be okay with a little TLC."
*
"When it comes to fixing motorcycles, I'm afraid my emotional expenditures are going to be lacking. Not for lack of effort, of course," Steve says with a smile before putting down the kick stand. "How'd you get into cars?"
*
"More or less by accident," Jo says smoothly, crouching down beside the bike and removing the motor casing again. "I've always been fascinated by how things work." A playful smile touches her full lips. "And boys' toys were always more fun than dolls." Even if she did have to bully a few of them to be let into the club. With careful, practiced movements, she begins disassembling part of the motor to withdraw what she believes may be the troublesome part. "An old maintenance bay soldier took pity on me and showed me a trick or two." Way back in WW1, actually, but never mind.
*
That was straight up 50 years ago, almost. This gal doesn't look a day over 30. "You mean World War II? What kind of outfit were you hanging around? Spent a lot of time." He watches her, hoping to pick something up along the way.
*
Jo does have WW2 experience, too. And got a several new tricks there, so she smiles. Her math skills aren't lacking, however, and even twenty years ago would make her to 'young' to have known much of the war beyond the homefront. At least, as far as everyone here is concerned, that is. "I lived near one of the training camps in Jersey." A beat. She flashes a light grin. "Darling of the maintenance crew. I guess they figured it would keep me out of trouble." Carefully extracting the part, now, she takes it over to a work bench and starts cleaning and examining it under slightly better light.
*
"Did it?" he asks about keeping her out of trouble. "I had basic at Camp Lehigh, so I have some Jersey experience. Which is almost always a bad experience, am I right? Although it sounds like it was alright by you."
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Jo spends a few moments working on the part, cleaning it and effecting some sort of repair to it with a variety of her tools. Then, she returns to the bike to reinstall it. "Jersey's always an adventure," she agrees. "I visited Lehigh once or twice." Another beat while she begins reassembled the motor. "Tagged along with Mack. But, I think you were already overseas by then." Or on USO tours. Whichever. Truthfully, she was probably in Canada or France at that point.
*
"Seems like a long time ago now. Everything does," Steve says ominously. "That would have been pretty cool—hanging around as a teenager with all that excitement going on. You wouldn't have been much older than Bucky was…" His voice trails a bit sadly and his face darkens just a bit.
*
Jo knows that look. She's lost more than a few friends along the way. Enough that she tends not to make deep friendships, anymore. Although, in war, that's almost impossible. "Well, yes. I'd say the war was the most exciting time I had in recent memory." She closes the motor casing finally and gestures to it. "See if she purrs," she suggests.
*
Steve reaches down and starts her up. It's immediate. The thing sounds brand new. "Wow," he says with a smile and goes so far as to give it an extra rev. "Just like new." He reaches into his wallet, digging for cash with which to pay her.
*
Jo looks pleased, taking a moment to wipe her hands again before she accepts the cash. "Sounds like," she agrees. "If she gives you any more sass, just bring her back. I'll take another look." She looks around the shop for a moment and then gives the man a light shrug. "Always nice to have a decent fellow to chat with while I work, in any case."
*
"Yeah, it was nice meeting you," Steve adds as he reaches for her hand. "Steve."
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A bit of amusement dances through her eyes as she returns the handshake. "Jo," she replies, again flashing that playful grin. "Nice to meet you, too."
*
"Jo," Steve says with a smile. "Guess I found the right Jo," he chuckles a bit before he gives the motorcycle some gas and heads out.
*