Chapter Text
Chica knew when she made bad choices. Most times it's a silent voice in the back of her head telling her so. It often sounded like Bonnie. It told her not to eat all that junk food the night before a performance that she was super nervous for. It told her not to do the dance move that made her break a bone since she wasn’t ready for it. And it told her not to buy the piece of junk that she was currently driving right now.
The piece of junk that just broke down on her way to work.
Maybe she should have listened to that voice. Stupid Bonnie and his stupid wisdom beyond his years.
But, she had more important matters at hand, such as how the heck is she supposed to get to work now! She really needed to make money. She had an apartment to pay for! A dance studio to save for! And classes for college that did not come cheap!
She supposed that she could always ask Freddie for money, but he had adopted a kid now and she would never want to burden him with splitting money from the little munchkin. She could also ask Foxy but she hadn’t seen him in years. And Bonnie, he’d already offered to help her with bills but she declined since he had his own life to save for. Besides, she wanted to do this herself.
She was tired of being called their tag along. Tired of the jeers of being a pretty face with no brain, no ambition. Coasting on her friends' coattails, some would say. The Glamrock Animatronics’ little girlfriend others would say. Both of which were stupid. Do any of those people even know how hard it is to shred a guitar the way she did! She was just as talented as the boys! And she wasn’t even straight! Ugh, stupid stigma against fem lesbians.
But that was why she couldn’t ask her best friends in the whole wide world for financial help. She was determined to show that she could make her own success. And she did always want to open a dance studio at some point of her life and getting a couple degrees under her belt sure did make navigating the business ownership world slightly easier.
Maybe she could ask one of them to give her a ride for a while until her hunk of junk could be running again. Or maybe she could ask her favorite coworker! He was only a couple years younger than her and even though he looked so intimidating, she got him to open up to her a bit. He’d probably be cool with it, especially since he also worked there and she could help pay for gas. And there was always the bus! It got her around town before buying the rust bucket on four wheels and it can get her around now!
Wait, she paused, I’m getting ahead of myself. I maybe should call in and let them know I can’t make it today. I should also maybe call a tow truck to take me to a mechanic.
After the calls were complete, she searched up mechanics nearby, scouring the internet for the nearest place that has relatively positive reviews and affordable prices.
Huh, this place looks promising! Lone Wolf’s Automotive and Body Shop, here I come!
~~~~~~~~~
Nearly an hour and a half later, she rolls into the car lot of Lone Wolf’s.
After they park her car down on one of the spaces, she hops out of the truck. “Bye! Thank you so much for your help Mr. Jeremy!”
“Ehh, it was no problem, little lady. Good luck on getting that thing repaired.”
“Thank you! Take care!” She waves him off and turns to the open garage behind her. “Welp, time to get you fixed.”
She walks into the office and sees a lady behind a desk typing away. As the door shuts behind her, it jingles the little bell above it, alerting the lady at the desk. She looks up from her desktop with owlish eyes behind large, almost comical glasses and smiles.
“Ah you must be the Miss Chica on the phone earlier! How delightful to meet you. I’m Maple.” She extends out a hand for Chica to shake.
Chica reaches out herself and offers a grin of her own. “Likewise! Anyways, do I speak to you about my car or…?”
“Oh heavens no,” Maple chuckles. “I just keep the books in order and answer the phone. No no no you’ll want to talk to our head mechanic for a quote for the repairs on your car. She should be in the garage. She’s aware that you would be coming but she might be listening to music on her headphones and it’d be best not to spook her.”
“Understood. So I just go through this door?” Chica asks, pointing to the door leading to the garage.
“Yup!”
“Wonderful! Thank you.”
She enters the garage which was surprisingly empty. She always figured that mechanic shops would be full of workers, moving around tools and tires and whatnot for cars. Huh, whatever. She weaves through the many shelves and stacks of tires, in search of this mysterious head mechanic when she hears singing.
“Pretty like a car crash ~ Ugly as a lullaby ~ ya really wanna try it ~~”
Well this head mechanic definitely has some vocal cords on her at least. Now if only she could just–
As she rounds the corner of a car is when she sees her. Oh. OH. Oh wow. She is really really really pretty. Almond colored skin, practically golden eyes, and wild gray hair with an electric green streak in the front. She had piercings on both ears and a few small tattoos scattered on the exposed parts of her arms. And what arms they were, all trained lean muscle that Chica would not mind having wrapped over her shoulder. And it should be illegal for anyone to look that good in grease covered coveralls but here was proof that that law hadn’t passed yet. And she obviously was a skilled mechanic from the way her eyes trace over the engine of the truck in front of her and the way she flicks her wrist while holding some kind of wrench. And wow that voice.
“Experiment on meeeeee~~ dun dundun dun dundun~~”
I would NOT mind doing that pretty girl.
She was very aware that she still needs to talk to this girl but most of her mind melted and having those gorgeous eyes trained on her now would definitely be a disaster.
“-- way too much to handle~~ bitch, I’ll never be a good exa-”
Suddenly those eyes flick up and see Chica standing there. And thankfully Chica’s first response was something sensible.
“Hi!” Followed by a tiny wave and small smile.
“Mierda! Uhhhh.” The pretty mechanic pauses her music and takes out her earphones. “Fuck um. Hi. Hey. I’m-I’m sorry, I just noticed you. You must be Chica, right?” She wipes her hand on the small towel she has and offers a hand out to her along with a wolfish grin. “Name’s Roxanne.”
Chica reaches out and shakes. “A pleasure to meet ya, Roxanne!”
Maybe that clunker wasn’t such a bad choice after all.