"Stay on target, young jedi." Harley winked and nodded back towards the bar area.

Deke took a deep breath and glared.

"Okay, oh wise one, just how do I pull this off without appearing to come out of nowhere with only one thing on my mind."

"What are you talking about? She knows you. You went to school with her, and you've been coming here just about every week since before she started working here. You know, if this was some other girl, you wouldn't be coming up with half these problems."

"It ain't that simple."

"It is exactly that simple," Harley took a drink of his coffee than set it back down, "and you need to quit stalling and get your butt over there. The way that skinny trucker at the end of the bar is eyeballing her, he's going to make a pass at her soon. And if he does, she won't be in the mood to hear anything on that topic from anybody else for a while."

Deke looked over to where his partner indicated. A thin, man with greasy hair and the words "Leaping Larry" printed on the back of his wide, western style belt, stared at Stacey with almost open lust.

"Aw crap."

"On the other hand," the larger young man continued, "he's got to be making her uncomfortable, leering at her like that, so you would be a pleasant change if you act now."

"I'm on it."

Deke was up and moving before he had time to consider any further contingencies.

As much as Harley could irritate him on topics like this, he never doubted for one second his friend knew exactly what he was talking about. He secretly thanked heaven he had the other man's advice to rely on. Of course, it would be a lot easier if he also had Harley's looks...and his muscles...and his easy manner...and his almost scary ability to be so much where he was at any given moment that the right move always seemed obvious. Hell, if he had all those things going for him he would be in a good mood all the time too.

Focus, stupid! You only get one shot at this!

"Hi, Deke! What's up?"

Stacey's smile lit up her elfish face as he reached the bar, and Deke's stomach threatened to turn into water. Her blue eyes sparkled with a cheerful life that infected the world around her, reminding the young man it wasn't only her looks putting her in a league of her own. She possessed a bright disposition coupled with an exuberant blend of mischievousness and honest warmth most men could only dream of finding in one girl.

Men with a lot more going on for them than he did.

Stop it, Deke! Stop it! Just talk to her!

"Hey, Stacey," Deke shrugged and slid into a nearby stool. "I'm just hanging out, drinking coffee and talking to Harley."

"Ah, I see."

He found himself staring stupidly at the empty bar in front of him and realized he had left his coffee cup back at his booth.

A quick glance back at his table showed his cup sitting where he had left it. It also revealed Harley had left the table as well, and had just seated himself by "Leaping Larry" and engaged him in conversation. It looked like his friend intended on running interference to make sure his attempt at asking Stacey out wouldn't be interrupted.

Okay, Harley. I take back every mean thing I ever thought about you. You're alright.

Then he also realized the other result of Harley's intervention.

The lack of a cup meant Deke hadn't come over here to get a refill, and his friend's simultaneous move made it look like they had a coordinated plan. His intentions couldn't have been more painfully obvious if he had been wearing a sign around his neck with large block letters reading "Get ready, Stacy! Here it comes!"

He fought the urge to swallow and returned his gaze to the girl in front of him. She still smiled and looked at him inquisitively.

Well, she ain't running for the back, and she hasn't already started laughing, so I guess that's something. At least she's going to be polite about this.

"Yeah," he sort of half laughed, "Okay, I guess I actually wanted to ask you something."

"Sure." She tilted her head with a curious glint in her eye. "What is it, Deke?"

Okay, you can do this.

"Well," he gathered his will and pressed onward, "Harley and I are going out to the lake next week to try out his old boat. I was just wondering...if...if you would like to come hang out with us at the lake."

He sincerely hoped that hadn't sounded one tenth as lame in her ears as it did in his.

"Hmmm..." Stacey stroked her chin and glanced back down the bar where Harley and Leaping Larry talked. They had a napkin on the bar in front of them, and Larry was pontificating about something he had drawn on it. The girl studied the pair for a couple of seconds before returning her attention to Deke.

"Soooo...." she fixed him with an evaluating eye, "we're talking about just you, me, and Harley out at the lake?"

Doh! Deke, you idiot! What girl is going to feel comfortable with a setup like that! Think fast, you moron!

"Oh! Harley would bring somebody too...of course. Heck, I should have said that up front...I mean...sure...it would be...." His mouth had already started trying to salvage the situation while the rest of him still tried to catch up. "That is...if it's cool with you."

He wasn't exactly thrilled with the job it was doing.

"Ah," Stacey rested her elbows on the bar and nodded in satisfaction. "So we're talking a double date, then."

Deke noted with disbelieving hope the idea seemed to appeal to her. Was he actually going to pull this off?

"Uh, yeah." At this point, the only thing he could think of was to just go with it. "Exactly!"

She considered him with a half smile for a second or two longer, then it spread to its full brightness.

Holy shit! She's going to say yes!

"That sounds like it could be fun..."

It was all he could do to keep his jaw from hitting the floor. Stacey Collins...yes, that Stacey Collins...was about to agree to go out on a date with him.

"...so who is Harley's date?"

Once again the mental train lurched to a stop, and Deke spent a frozen moment staring at the girl.

"Huh?"

"The other girl?

"Oh...uh...Harley's date?"

"Yes."

"Oh...uh..."

Stacey rested her chin in her hand and raised her eyebrows at him.

"Doesn't Harley have a date?"

"Well...actually...not yet."

"Hmmm..." She looked down the bar to where his friend still had the trucker occupied. "I wouldn't have thought Harley to be the type to have trouble finding a date."

"Oh...well..." He thought fast. "He's only been back from the army a few months. He's just been kind of settling in. You know how it is."

"Ah, I suppose that makes sense."

Deke held his breath, trying to figure out if Stacey was buying any of this and whether he had a date with her or not. She continued to look down the bar, apparently deep in thought. Then a certain calculating gleam came into her eyes.

"Okay, Deke." She turned back to him with a warm smile. "A day at the lake sounds like fun. But we do need to get poor Harley a date so he won't feel weird...and I'll have another girl to talk to."

"We?" Deke queried, now torn between joy over Stacey's acceptance and dismay over the twist of events it led to.

"Yep. But that's okay. I know just the girl."

"You do?"

"Uh huh. I'm thinking Marisa." Stacey looked inordinately pleased with herself about something.

"Marisa? That Marisa?" He gestured over to where the other waitress was bringing Doc Sutherland another coffee.

Marisa must have heard something because she looked back over at him sharply. Stacey flashed the other waitress a brilliant smile and wriggled her fingers at her, causing the raven haired beauty to give her a puzzled look before going back towards the kitchen.

"Sure. Marisa would enjoy a day at the lake. If Harley will take her with him, I'd be happy to hang out with you guys."

"Really?"

"Sure! You don't think Harley will mind, do you?"

Not if he knows what's good for him.

"Nah. I can't see Harley objecting to something like that."

"Great!" she chirped and stood back up. "Your job is to see to it Harley asks her out tonight...and I'll see to it she says yes. This is going to be fun!"

Deke could only stare at her for a second in helpless wonder.

Then a smile of his own slowly grew to answer hers.

Oh crap! I love this girl! Okay Mr. "Trust me". You're now in this with me, so you can just put your money where your mouth is.

Nightfall Buddha Boy.

"How deep is your love...How deeeep is your love. I really need to leeeearn... "

Gary "Buddha Boy" Norville's high pitched voice rang off the white painted cinder block walls of the Textro's shower. In the steamy confines of the room, his huge white body glowed like a pale moon in the mist.

"Okay, Buddha Boy," a voice drawled from the other end of the room. "That's the last song I want to hear a fat guy singing while I'm sharing a shower room with him. I'm out of here."

Gary giggled like a school girl.

"You ain't my type, Red! Besides, I got a date planned for tonight anyway."

"Lizzie ain't a date, Gary," Red Tex noted, "She's a transaction."

"Ha! You're just mad because she charged you the same for those two minutes as she does for half an hour."

Gary laughed again as Red Tex Collier turned off his shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. The lanky redhead pulled his hat from where he had hung it on a protruding soap dish and squashed it down on his wet locks before walking out with all the bow legged dignity he could muster.

"Hey!" he yelled after the departing figure, "Don't forget to leave that cologne on the bench. I'll get it back to you later!"

Buddha Boy couldn't hear Red Tex's mumbled reply over the sound of the shower, but knew the guy was good for it. Red Tex was good people. The big trucker giggled happily and returned to the business of methodically cleaning every inch of his massive, fish-white body.

He had no illusions about his appearance, and had long ago accepted his fate to be forever single. But while his options were reduced to the women who worked the asphalt at truck stops across the US, he still approached each encounter with all the hygienic care of a first date. Gary figured if a lady was willing to endure his gargantuan bulk, the least he could do was smell nice for her.

So, before each encounter he went through his ritual cleansing.

He always brought a little stool into the shower with him so he could sit down and start with his toes. The large trucker would then clean toe by toe, the tops and bottoms of each foot, the ankle, and then work his way up inch by inch from there. Each crease of fat was lifted and scoured clean, and every nook and cranny sponged with care. His head and nether regions got the same treatment. He had long ago undergone a procedure to remove all the hair on his head and body, unwilling to tolerate even the moderate amount of dirt that could hide in such growth.

And he always sang through the entire procedure.

His voice made him a natural for songs by Andy Gibb and the Bee Gees...and he occasionally mixed those in...but his true favorites were those by Hank Williams Jr, Johnny Cash, and Marty Robbins. The only problem was him singing any songs by those artists was guaranteed to send an entire locker room into hysterical laughter, so Gary always kept his song selection tailored to the circumstances at hand.

The singing got him through what was otherwise a slow and painstaking process, but in fifteen to twenty minutes Buddha Boy was the cleanest human being within a fifty mile radius. Satisfied that no possible odor remained to offend even his own delicate sensibilities, he turned off the shower...and stopped in mid-reach for the towel at the sounds coming through the wall.

He had chosen to bathe near the wall seperating the shower room from the mechanics garage because it featured a long steel bar at waist height to make it handicapped friendly. And while he didn't exactly count as handicapped, he figured he was close enough not to get too picky about it.

Now he stared at the wall in surprise.

Just over the clatter of an automatic air compressor, he could make out a scream.

It was faint, and whoever was doing it was drawing in short lungfuls of air between each one...but there could be no mistaking the sound. A rattle and a couple of thuds sounded through the wall as well, giving the impression of somebody thrashing in distress. Images of somebody with his arm caught in a fan belt pulley flashed across Buddha Boys mind, or maybe wounded by a power tool. There were a lot of ways to get hurt in a mechanics garage. Whatever was happening over there...somebody was in trouble.

"Hey, Red!" Gary called out, "Do you hear that?"

The other trucker didn't answer.

"Red! Can you run over to the garage? I think somebody is hurt over there, and needs help!"

Further silence indicated Red must have already gotten dressed and headed up to the truck stop. That left it up to Buddha Boy to deal with the emergency.

Gary grabbed his towel and did a fast waddle towards the shower room exit, leaving his stool behind. If somebody was really in trouble over there, then he couldn't afford to take the time to dry off and get dressed. A far better solution would be to get to his cell phone in the locker and call Red Tex back to the building. The other man could size up the situation and either render aid or get help long before Buddha Boy could get dressed.