Birthdays and Happiness

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It was nearing the end of September but that didn't mean the city was free from sporadic summer heatwaves that smothered the city in uncomfortable warmth despite the fall leaves beginning to paint the town in an amber hue. Hank rolled out from beneath the Pace with grease all over his hands as he finished draining the old oil and replacing the plug in the somewhat aged, but loyal vehicle, as he wanted to get the car prepared for winter early on. As he stood up from the ground to stretch out his tightened back muscles Connor handed him an old red rag to wipe off his hands and a bottle of water to cool off after working so hard.

The Pace was parked out in the driveway so the Corvette could be safe inside the garage. As a result Hank was suffering from the heat thanks to the sun warming the blacktop surface of the entire driveway beneath his body.

"You should go inside and get out of the sun for a while." Connor suggested as he cautiously ran a biometric scan over the senior detective's body. Hank was showing signs of mild heat exhaustion - elevated heart rate, elevated blood pressure, elevated temperature and heavy perspiration. "Your internal temperature has risen to ninety-nine point seven degrees."

"I'll be fine," Hank insisted as he wiped his left forearm over his hot forehead to rid himself of the sweat building on his brow. "I just need to replace the oil and then I'm done."

"I can do that for you. You should go inside and get out of the heat."

"No way. You have the Corvette to play with, I get this old bird all to myself."

"You really do enjoy working on cars." A faint grin appeared on the deviant's face as he observed Hank's upbeat mood despite the heat. "Why didn't you become a mechanic instead of a detective?"

"Because," Hank picked up the large bottle of new oil from the ground in front of the car and twisted open the cap. "not everyone appreciates their cars. It'd drive me crazy to work my ass off to get a car running as smoothly as possible only to have some annoying bastard drive it into the ground and break it out of neglect or laziness. Then they'd come back to me to fix it, all the while bitchin' about how expensive parts are, blah, blah, blah... It just wasn't worth the aggravation. Dead people don't complain nearly as much as the living."

"I see. Do you have everything you need to finish changing the oil?"

"Yeah, kid. I got everything I need."

"What about the spark plugs? They're approximately eight years in age and could be changed to prevent problems from occurring."

Hank finished pouring the oil into the proper intake port and gave Connor a suspicious side-eyed glance. "What're you up to?"

"I'm not up to anything. I just want to help."

"Yeah... And the fact that tomorrow is my birthday doesn't have anything to do with it? Riiiiiight?"

"I..." Connor didn't have much of a poker face anymore after becoming deviant and developing true emotions. Unable to deny his plans he admitted he had ulterior motives for wanting to leave the house for a few hours. "It's not a surprise party if that's what you're worried about."

"Not anymore. But please don't do anything at all. I don't like my birthday."

"You encouraged me to celebrate my own birthday despite my hesitation, I wish to do the same for you."

"But that's different." Replacing the lid on the oil intake valve in the engine Hank slammed the hood of the car shut and proceeded to lower the bulky vehicle down from the jack back to the driveway. "You never had a birthday before and you needed to experience at least one in your life."

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