Yard, 33 Apocalypse, Friday Morning

[bitten_notshy]

Don't ask where Jack got his bitchin' leather jacket, or the motorcycle he worked on while he wore it. What was important was, they looked awesome. And as for the grease on his hands, that was just another tool to get his pompadour more firmly in place.

He hummed a Bill Haley tune to himself as he polished the bike's chassis. As soon as his ride was fixed, he was going to be zapping through Fandom like a bat out of h-e-double hockey sticks.

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[not_a_whiner]

"Well, hello there!" Kaidan said heartily, pushing in through an invisible picket fence that didn't technically even fit with their claustrophobic European setting. "The bike seems to be coming along nicely!"

He, for once in his life, did not have a pompadour. Frightening.