MV. /Ark/ Base and Tyler's Scrapyard. Saving Lives Part 1

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Dallas: *currently working on modifying the firewall of a truck he bought for cheap from a guy in town. Already got the engine out with Jake's help the other day. Intends to beef up the engine and frame in order to make the truck into a tow truck for the shop as a gift to Lisa and Rodney*

Raoul: *grunts and drops the part he was tinkering with* This ain't gonna work, Dal.

Dallas: *frown* What part was that?

Raoul: The distributor. One of the heads is scrap too.

Dallas: Add 'em to the list. *has been keeping tally of the parts that he'll need to buy replacements for on a legal pad he asked for nicely from supplies* I'm glad I was able to get this thing for cheap... Means we can spend more on getting good parts for it.

Raoul: *snorts* There's another truck just like it at the yard.

Dallas: Yeah, I'll go talk to Tyler soon...

Raoul: *walks over and slaps his older friend on the bum* Stop puttin' it off 'n go get those parts already. I've run outta stuff to do.

Dallas: *squawks at the swat to his butt* Alright, alright. Sheesh. *will work on extracting himself from the engine compartment after turning off the cutting torch*

Raoul: *offers him an envelope*

Dallas: *blinks and reaches for the envelope* What's this?

Raoul: Next payment for that V8 they're holdin' for me. *half-grin, dark eyes dancing mischief*

Dallas: *laughs and moves to get Raoul in a loving headlock*

Raoul: *lets himself be caught, but then pounds Dallas in the ribs with a fist* You even know what I'm talkin' about?

Dallas: Do I need ta? *grin, noogie!*

Raoul: *pound pound pound!* Aston Martin!

Dallas: *surprised squawk, lets Raoul go*

Raoul: *lands and laughs* 1973 Aston Martin V8. She looks like scrap, but I can fix her.

Dallas: That is gonna be one sweet ride when you're done.

Raoul: Yup. Mom'll love it.

Dallas: You're gonna give it to Denver? Why not keep it for yourself?

Raoul: *snorts as he gets to his feet and dusts himself off* I don't drive, man.

Dallas: Ah. *small nod. Won't pry into that. He has friends from his old unit who don't drive either, for various reasons*

Raoul: *picks up envelope* You dropped somethin'.

Dallas: Right. *reaches for the envelope*

Raoul: *gives, and also gives a swat upside the head*

Dallas: *awks and laughs* I'll be back soon.

Raoul: *walks over to the truck and sticks himself under the hood* Yeah, sure. Whatever.

Dallas: *affectionately* Brat. *will head to where he parked his black GTO. Is soon heading for town*

little redhead: *sitting on the shoulder of the highway, hugging her knees and sobbing as she shivers. Has no idea why the world's so cold or how she got here, but she knows she's going to get a beating when Letitia finds her. Both for running away and for messing up her clothes*

Dallas: *surprised sound when he spots the little redhead. Will pull over just up the road, park the GTO, and get out carefully once there's a clear spot in traffic. He'll then move to approach the child, getting his cell phone out as he walks*

little girl: *sobs are quiet- the grief of a child who is never heard but often disapproved of. She doesn't hear the approaching footsteps* *and that dark stain on her white dress is blood*

Dallas: *quietly* Miss? Are you alright?

little girl: *startles and looks up, her big blue eyes wide... and concussed*

Dallas: *soothing sounds as he moves to crouch* Easy... You're safe. *cell phone out, will call Doctor House* I'm calling a doctor...

girl: *confusion shows on her little face. This man looks young... but she knows him* Papa?

Dallas: *surprised* Er...

little girl: *so much hope* Papa, don't y'u know me? T's Della.

Dallas: *gently* My name's Dallas... *gentler* But you can call me Papa if you want to.

Della: *hopefully, and only half understanding him in her haze of pain and confusion* 'S Mama 'n Debbie with y'u?

Dr. House: //What's up, Dallas?//

Dallas: *to Della* They're at home... *to Dr. House* I need a medical assist... *will use his phone to send a video of Della*

Della: *holds out her arms, speechlessly asking to be held*

Dr. House: //She's concussed. Bring her to the infirmary. I'll let Rachel know.//

Dallas: *to Dr. House* Will do. MacKenzie out. *will move to gently and carefully lift Della*

Della: *cuddles and makes a quiet hiccough* Didn' intend ta soil mah dress, Papa. Ah'm sorreh.

Dallas: *soothingly, as he moves to bring Della to the GTO* We'll get it cleaned up, just as good as new.

Della: *sadly* Blood don't come out, Papa. Miss 'Tisha'll be angreh. *small figure is going limp as relief at finding a loving face lets her relax*

Dallas: Miss 'Tisha will have to deal with me. *butt on the hood of the GTO, will PINpoint back to the base*

Della: *gasping as they arrive in front of the barn. Her body stiffens, then shakes and goes limp*

Dallas: *cuss, will hurry Della down to the infirmary. Yes, another PINpoint trip*

Ratchet: *hurries to meet him, then takes the child and scans her quickly* She's got a skull fracture. *gentle hand on the little head, using magnets to carefully move the piece of broken bone back into place* Brain lining's intact.

Dallas: *quietly* Her name is Della.

Ratchet: *absently* She's you.

Dallas: ... *sounds like he's just been suckerpunched* She thought I was her Pa...

Ratchet: *soft, absent chuckle* You look just like him.

Dallas: She said something about someone named 'Tisha being mad at her...

Ratchet: She can be as mad as she wants. *moves her hand from the child's head and brings her over to the nearest table*

Dallas: *quietly* I told her 'Tisha would have to go through me first... Will Della be alright?

Ratchet: *snort* *sadly* 'Tisha'd have to come through time and space to do it. And I can't tell yet, but she's got good chances.

Dallas: *quieter* Exile?

Ratchet: I'm pretty sure. I do know she's not from this era. They don't make cotton cloth like that anymore, and she hasn't got any modern toxins in her tissues.

Dallas: Any idea when she's from?

Ratchet: *looks at the dress, and then starts unbuttoning the worn shoes, which are too small for the little plump feet* Before the Civil War.

Dallas: ... Scrap.

Ratchet: *moves Della as little as possible as she unfastens all the tiny buttons on the back of the dress. Tosses it after the shoes and then starts on the petticoats*

Dallas: Let me know when she wakes up. I've got to finish running an errand...

Ratchet: *gives him a hip bump* Go ahead. I called an assistant.

Little Denver: *peeking into the infirmary. She made a dress for her big doll, but it turned out way too big, and she didn't have the heart to tear out the stitches and start over, because it's a very pretty dress otherwise* *perks as she sees Dallas. Will scoot into the room and show him the pretty dress!*

Dallas: *soft chuckle* You did a good job making that, Denden.

Little Denver: *ducks her head and blushes slightly* Thank you, Dallas.

Ratchet: *looks over* Aww. Pretty. Do you have the night dress too?

Little Denver: *looks to Aunty and nods* Yes. I brought.

Ratchet: *grins and holds out her hand* Here, let's put that on this little Dallas.

Little Denver: *scoots closer, will offer the nightdress to Aunty* *slight headtilt as she sees Della* Is anozher Dallas... But is girl?

Ratchet: *more grin* Yup. A little girl Dallas. We call her Della.

Little Denver: *thinking this over now, will nod to show her understanding* Della is hurt?

Ratchet: *softly* Yes. Della's like you, only not because of Papa.

Little Denver: *lips press thin for a moment, then she's scooting to get a blanket from where Uncle Russell showed her*

Ratchet: *glances at the Dallas hovering in the doorway* You might have an argument about keeping her.

Dallas: *quietly* She'd still be family.

Ratchet: *chuckles* Yeah. Weren't you going somewhere?

Dallas: *blink* Oh. Right. *PINpoints back to the GTO*

Lisa: *eeks and gives him a wall-eyed look* Don't do that, Dallas! *had been wiping bird spot off the pretty black car*

Dallas: *wince* Sorry, Lisa.

Lisa: *chews fast, but realizes she can't get rid of the fudge fast enough* You know I'm jumpy, and Roddy's working on something finicky right now, and what if he jumped too and broke something? That wouldn't be fun, because he'd have to start all over again... *yeah, she's talking slow*

Dallas: He's fine, right?

Lisa: *listens and chews* *frown* He's laughing at me.

Dallas: Then he's fine, and you can kick his butt later for laughing at you.

Lisa: *frowns and chews and finishes wiping the spot* This fudge has toffee in it.

Dallas: *chuckles* I'll have to get some if there's any left when I get back.

Lisa: *chew chew CHEW* *frustrated sound*

Dallas: I'll see you later, Lisa. *will get into the GTO*

Lisa: *gesture that shows more frustration, and then a wave*

Dallas: *once more heads for town* *will soon arrive at the junkyard and park where he won't have to worry about his car* *walks to the gate* Hey! Tyler! You in?

Tyler: *from somewhere inside* That you, Mac?

Dallas: Yup. Came to get some parts and bring ya something from Raoul.

Tyler: *calls again* Full or partial?

Dallas: Partial.

Tyler: I'm in the bus.

Dallas: *enters the junkyard and heads for the bus*

Tyler: *actually has the door of his bus closed today. And his keyboard's not clicking in there*

Dallas: *will knock on the door of the bus*

Tyler: *comes to open the door. And lo, the usually stolidly placid man looks pale and is checking over Dallas' shoulder*

Dallas: *worried now* Something wrong?

Tyler: *slight startle and gives him a look even more spooked than the one that Lisa gave him earlier* No! *more quietly, trying to look calm* No... no. Nothing's wrong.

Dallas: ...Okay, then. *will offer the envelope* This is from Raoul.

Tyler: *takes it, and then startles and shoots a look toward the east*

Dallas: *startles and also looks to the east, one hand going to his hip holster*

Tyler: *swallows and gives himself a shake* *hesitantly* Mac?

Dallas: *watches toward the east for a few moments more before relaxing as nothing appears to be wrong. He'll turn his attention back to Tyler* Huh?

Tyler: ...Were any of your robots here last night?

Dallas: ... One, they're not my robots, and two, no, I don't think so.

Tyler: *heels of his hands to rub his eyes* I'm losin' my *beep* mind.

Dallas: ... I could ask the ones that're also cops t' come investigate, see if something's up?

Tyler: *lowers hands and looks at Dallas uncertainly. Is very plainly scared*

Dallas: They'd be able t' arrest anyone causin' trouble...

Tyler: *takes out his phone and fiddles with the screen before turning the device and showing Dallas what looks like a blurry Sasquatch image*

Dallas: ... Okay, so I call the Wreckers. They've got a few bigger people who'd be able to restrain a threat.

Tyler: *shaky breath* You think that's really one?

Dallas: It's big, whatever it is. The Wreckers'd be able to encourage it to set up shop somewhere else, at least.

Tyler: *looks toward the east again* *quietly* Okay. Now I can quit being gutless. *shoulders straightening*

Dallas: *reassuring smile* Gimme a few to set things up... In the meantime, can you check your fancy database to see if you've got these parts for a (year and model) truck? *offers the legal pad*

Tyler: *points to a pickup across the drive* They brought it in because of a broken axle. Raoul checked it out three days ago.

Dallas: Sweet. I'll go raid what I need, and call the guys, then. *much grin*



Continued here