"I mean... I do really like this stuff, that's not even a technopath thing, that's mostly a me thing.  But it's okay if you don't?  I have friends that really like music and, and food, and they- don't get mad that I don't care so much?"

Blaze looks at the floor, twists her fingers together. "I- don't know how to do- this. I- never had to. Before."

"And that's just fine, you're never actually gonna need this, most people don't fix their own microwaves.  Cars maybe, once you're- uh-" she skitters a few steps to one side and back again- "I mostly just- thought you might be bored?"

She shrugs a little. "I- used to. It? Sort of. I- good at. Keeping myself distracted."

"Well, that's- good, I guess- tell you what, I'll get this finished up an' then I'll set you up with a guest account on my laptop, then you can do whatever.  All right?"

She nods slowly. "I- yes, okay?"

"Okay."  She produces a screwdriver from a compartment under her seat, fastens the magnetron in place, and puts the back cover back on.  "Let's just get this over to the counter, then-"  She edges up close to the table and tips the microwave onto her lap with a grunt.

"Um, I could- help?" Blaze offers, although she isn't entirely sure how she would go about helping.

"Nah, you sh- I've got a built-in cart."  She pats the arm of her chair.  "You could doublecheck there's nothing in the way, I guess?  It goes next to the fridge."  She heads in that direction, a bit slower than usual.

Yes! Blaze can do that! Even if it is pretty much clear.

Cassie telescopes up so her knees are level with the counter and carefully scoots the microwave onto it.  "There!  Now you can have hot food whenever an' you don't need to wash a pan."  She flashes Blaze a smile and clatters off toward the van.

That gets a shy, perplexed smile, and Blaze hovers a little uncertainly.

Cassie returns shortly, pulling a laptop out of a Definitely Grown-Up Business Briefcase.  "Mmkay, guest account, guest account..."  She balances it on her knees and types a bit, frowns briefly and chews on a fingernail before typing something else, and finally turns it around and offers it to Blaze.  "There you go, guest account.  I don't have any headphones, so uh... if you watch a video I'll hear it, but also I don't expect I'd mind."

She takes it cautiously, and very, very carefully. "Thank you?"

"You're not gonna break it by accident, I reinforced the lid- oh hey, I think there was a Bill Nye about electromagnetism?  Want me to see if I can find that?  He's got, like, a whole job an' production values behind explaining things to people, probably do a better job at it."

"-Oh. Yes! That would be- good."

(And it meant she didn't have to tell Cassie that she wasn't entirely sure how to use a computer yet. Or that she couldn't read.)

Cassie retrieves the laptop and sets it on the counter to pull up the video.  "So, uh- I'm probably not gonna get too sucked in, but just so you know in case, if something happens and I don't come out of it don't shake me?  If yelling doesn't work you have my permission to throw things."

She nods, a little wide-eyed. "I- understood."

"Aaaaaand I should change before I work on something with moving parts."  She brushes some dust off her skirt.  "You all set?"

She nods. "I- yes, ma'am. Thank you."

Cassie collects some more durable clothes and takes them to the bathroom, then settles in among the spoils of the high school machine shop.  Three broken lathes become two working lathes and a neat pile of spare parts; a hydraulic press just needed a good cleaning and new fluid.

Blaze meanwhile curls up with the laptop and becomes thoroughly enthralled by Bill Nye.

After a couple of hours, Cassie looks up from the guts of a bandsaw and calls across the room, "Hey, you oughta plug that in soon!"

Her immediate thought is 'What did I do? What did I not do?!' and she goes still for a moment before-

-before actually processing the tone. And it wasn't angry, it wasn't demanding anything.

She looks around. "Um, with what?" she calls back, voice probably only just audible to Cassie.