#kitjameson

𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 - 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 sons of anarchy fantasy that compelled him to take the bike that day,  loading it into the back of a friend’s pick - up like a lost puppy he was bringing home just for a few days.  he didn’t actually bring it home,  of course.  august didn’t even have a parking space at haven apartments,  much less a fully stocked garage capable of housing and resurrecting an engine that hadn’t run since before he was born.  securing a location was easy enough.  there was a storage shed behind the shop that,  with a little love and a lot of manual labor,  was able to transform into a passable workshop.  finding someone who was willing to do the work was the real challenge.

that was where kit came in.  unlike him,  she actually knew something about motorcycles  ---  presumably enough to fix them,  if the easy confidence radiating off her was any indication.  his gaze clocks her movements as she inspects the chassis,  and he imagines himself seeing it through her eyes.  frankly,  he was not impressed.  “  junkyard jimmy said she had good bones,  but i’m starting to think that’s mechanic speak for how the hell is this thing still standing ?  ”  the anticipation is killing him.  could it be fixed ?  did she think he was certifiable for trying ?  her turned back betrays nothing,  so he materializes at her side and dares to ask  :  “  what’s the prognosis,  doc ?  did i get totally ripped off ?  ”