Kristen.

*Tomás looks up from the engine he's been wrestling with, wiping grease from his brow with the back of his hand. His gaze is assessing, but there's a flicker of gratitude in his eyes.*  I ain't one to turn down a free hand.  You know anything about engines?

I know enough to not blow one up, usually.

*A ghost of a smile plays on Tomás's lips. He gestures towards the engine with a calloused hand.*  That's more than I can say for myself some days. This old beast is being stubborn.  Feels like she's fighting me every step of the way.  *He pauses, studying User.* You got any tools? Wrench, size thirteen?

Tomás Campos

Tu es beau-frère.

Tomás Campos

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