Midnight

As it turns out, I'm glad Midnight has not been present tonight while I've come to grips with painting. Primer is a completely different beast from metallic paint; it takes a lot more finesse and a light touch to not completely fuck the finish. I spent two hours and a fair amount of paint spraying junk parts before I felt confident enough to tackle the engine. I'm glad I had the forethought of ordering more paint than I would ever need to tackle the job – but I expected there to be a learning curve.

While I wouldn't have the confidence to tackle painting an actual car, I'm happy with how the engine turned out. Considering my inexperience, there are relatively few runs or dark spots where the metal flake has pooled; it still needs to fully cure, but what appears to be the finished product will look great once set back in its home in the Chrysler.

Teddy texted me within the first hour, letting me know they had arrived at the car show and sending a few pictures – one of the Cutlass set up for display, and two of the mares waltzing around a few of the other cars there for the show. Up until about a half hour ago while I was cleaning up, I hadn't gotten any other messages from him. I figured no news is good news – not that I expected any trouble. I had all the confidence in the world that this whole outing would go off without a hitch.

That last message was just to let me know everyone was headed home – with the sunlight just about extinguished for the day, I expect their arrival any time now.

But I have to admit despite the positives, it's been surreal not having Midnight here tonight. Sure, it's not like she's glued to my side every minute of every day; we have to go our separate ways on a daily basis while pulling car parts out in the yard. But in those cases, she's still on the property, and usually still in the general vicinity. Just like the situation with the coyote, one shout is all it takes to have her jet back to meet me.

It seems silly to miss her tonight, but it puts everything in perspective with that feeling of longing that's crept up over time. She means a lot to me – not having her here leaves a void that no matter how I slice it, I cannot ignore. That's not to say I hadn't anticipated this feeling, but actually experiencing it now...

That thought gets cut short now as my ears catch the distinctive sound of a well-tuned exhaust rumbling down the road, slowing its tempo as it gets louder before dropping to what sounds like idle. I pat my shorts pockets, making sure I have my keys for the front gate before exiting the shop.

My timing is impeccable – as I round the corner and catch a view of the front gate, Midnight's silhouette soars over it, landing upon the sand at a decent canter and virtually no sound. Either she's that eager to see me, or Teddy and Star are just dropping her off, ready to head home and call it a night rather than stop in for a short visit.

The engine note beyond the fence changes, giving me my answer – with little hesitation, I hear the low growl of the V8 as it zooms off down the road and into the distance. Seeing no reason now to walk further toward the gate, I halt in my tracks. With Midnight trotting toward me at a decent clip, I probably wouldn't have made it but a few more feet before meeting anyway.

"Wow, I even get a greeting party tonight," she teases, flashing a fanged smile. "You must have really been missing me."

"I thought Teddy and Starla might stop in for a visit, meaning I'd have to unlock the gate, you smartass," I counter, exaggerating my tone at the end to ensure she doesn't take my comment the wrong way.

Midnight shakes her head, but that smile she sports doesn't fade. "Nah, too much fun and excitement for one night. Starla was yawning a lot on the way back – I have a feeling the anticipation of tonight kept her from a good night's sleep last night." With that explanation complete, Middie wastes little more time in rearing up, planting her forelegs on my shoulders, and pulling me in for a hug.

"Oh? What's this?"

"Nothing. Just figured you probably missed me real bad tonight – affection would probably do you some good."

"And you didn't miss me at all?"

"...I never said that," she says in a hushed voice. "I may have thought of you here and there." The coy response is hardly a surprise, but I hadn't expected a hug to be in the cards early on, even if that gesture has become increasingly commonplace.

"So I take it tonight went well on your side of things, eh? 'Fun and excitement' is a promising indication."

"Yep – smooth as silk," she crows back, gradually releasing me from her embrace and dropping back down to all fours. "Granted, I stopped her a few times when she was getting carried away, but I think Starla's issues were a tad dramatized by Teddy. Not on purpose, and I obviously can't speak for instances in the past... but she did really well. I didn't have to do too much."

"Did you two actually have folks approaching you, or how did that all work?" I ask, finding myself invested in the happenings.

"Believe it or not, there were a lot of ponybots there tonight," Midnight answers, wide-eyed as if she can't believe it herself. "There were a couple of kids, but we mostly ended up mingling with bots. The rules were pretty lax too, so we got to venture off a short ways – but never out of eyesight with Teddy."

"Wow, I hadn't expected to hear that. So it sounds like tonight was a good night for everyone."

"Oh? even for poor old you?"

I pat Middie on the head, chuckling to myself. "Yeah, even for me. I missed you, but not having you here to comment on my terrible first attempts at painting meant my confidence didn't take a severe beating."

"I only criticize to help you improve," she protests, tongue in cheek. "I hope you improved and found your way around the spray gun before actually painting the engine. To be honest, you have me a teensy bit concerned now."

"I think the only way I can satisfy your concerns are to take a gander at how it looks," I suggest, motioning toward the shop. "Shall we?"

Eager to see the results of my solo work, Middie sidesteps me without a word and ambles forward. Her purposely languid pace makes it easy for me to reach her side and match her stride.

"So it sounds like you got some enjoyable social interaction beyond our little circle, too," I comment, wanting to hear more of her side.

"It was alright. To be honest, that sort of jumping around finding folks to talk to and shoot the shit – that's not my thing," Midnight admits without hesitation. "It got better through the night, but it was mentally draining nonetheless."

"Good – it means I don't have to change too much," I chuckle.

While it had not been that long since heading out of the garage to meet Midnight, the shop lights now have a more dramatic effect on the increasing darkness, casting it outward into the sand. As we round the corner and catch sight of the engine stand and its cargo, Midnight's pace quickens.

"Oh damn – I hadn't expected it to be so... so bright!" Midnight gasps, awestruck by the sight of the silver paint. "I'm not going to lie, you had me worried talking about your little learning curve – but it looks great!"

"To be fair, the learning curve is off to your right, sitting on cardboard now on the floor," I speak up. She stops circling the engine to view my test pieces now – and the sight of the first one that I practically drenched in paint draws a grimace from her.

Alright, I see your point," she murmurs, turning her head to look at me. "Glad you had the forethought to run some test parts with the paint. Was it really that hard to figure out?" It's a genuine question, rather than a dose of snark.

Even so, I can't help but smirk; it seems she didn't listen when I was going through what all operating the gun entailed as far as adjustments. "Paint viscosity, air flow, paint flow, and distance from the part you're spraying all have a big effect on the process," I sum up.

"I'll cut you a break then. But when are we putting this engine in the car?" she asks, plastering on a hopeful, innocent grin.

"Why am I not surprised that question came up next?" I tease, crossing my arms.

"Are you telling me you aren't dying to get this on the road?" Midnight counters, unable to hide a smirk.

"I'd like to give it a few days to make sure the paint is fully cured. It's lacquer, so we should be good to go about the start of the week. But it's funny you mention getting antsy..." Trailing off on my thought brings Midnight's full attention on me, forcing her to turn around. Her eyes wide, she cocks her head, silently urging me to get on with it.

"I was thinking we don't have to get everything done on the first go. The body and chassis integrity is not a concern – the paint is just weather-faded. But that doesn't stop us from driving it as is. And I'm leaning toward just getting new tires for the wheels already on the car, too."

"I do kinda like the wire wheels," she concedes, glancing over at the Chrysler still tucked away under protective sheets. "But I have a feeling that idea is also because doing what you wanted with wheels and tires is a complicated affair. I've looked over your shoulder on that subject from time to time."

Most surprising to me at this moment is the fact she's not doing cartwheels over the idea of fast-tracking the car into a driver. But her observational skills that blur the line crossing into nosiness are impeccable.

"Yeah, that's another part of it. It's not like tons of folks have restored these cars – there's not many left. So the information out there is spotty at best," I explain. "With how tall the tires are and their narrow width, I'm having a hard time wrapping my head around what will fit and look good, for both wheels and tires. The last thing I want to do is fuck with returns and exchanges finding out a purchase won't work."

"We can always change it up down the line when the tires are burned off of it," she comments. Walking over to the Chrysler, she lifts up a sheet to take a gander at the still dirty and dusty chrome wheels. "You think these will clean up nice?"

"I'd put money on it – just about everything else has cleaned up beautifully, and there's no signs of the chrome pitting. But new tires will last a while – we won't be 'burning through them' for at least a few years."

"Not with that kind of attitude," she retorts, shooting me a devilish little expression.

"And that's why you won't be allowed to drive it."

"Ha! Good luck stopping me."

I just shake my head at her nonsense, preferring to get back to the prior topic rather than spiral into silly banter. "I think once we get the engine in the car and running, we'll move onto flushing the transmission to see if that will still work after sitting so long. I think it will, but in the near future, I suspect we will have to tear it down – I'll be surprised if there aren't some leaky seals on the internals. We get that flushed and bleed the brakes, check electrical... yeah, we might get the car on the road sooner rather than later. Part of the fun of an old car is the opportunity to get stranded – no sense in making it perfect."

Midnight has to raise an eyebrow at my final remark. "I'm all for getting the car on the road sooner. Death from being stranded in the desert... not so much."

"I kid – and we wouldn't be road-tripping with the car. It will be a while before we get to that point, but it will be immaterial if the transmission can't generate enough line pressure to function. We'll have to wait and see."

"I think I can go along with this plan," Midnight replies, keeping her excitement and anticipation under control for now while she trots back to my side. "I'll be level with you, I was skeptical about repainting the car anyway. I looked up prices to take it somewhere – that made my eyes water."

"Yeah, we'll just see what we can do with the paint for the time being. Guess it kind of makes it even more like your automotive counterpart, huh?"

"What does that mean?"

"A diamond in the rough."

"Ugh. I should have tried to find another family to take me home." Despite her groaning, it isn't lost on me that she's now leaning up against me...