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starr-fall-knight-rise · 2 years

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Heat Trap

https://www.patreon.com/empyreaniris?fan_landing=true

https://starr-fall-knight-rise.tumblr.com/post/182501791735/master-post

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jzEIdDAB4omdO2JcQVMObfrhLJ5kX4ONmSsLypM1ks0/edit?usp=sharing.\

When the door to the shuttle opened, it did so with a blast of heat, not dissimilar to the kind of heat one would get from opening an oven. The air was dry, and tainted with the smell of sulfur and smoke. The sky above them was dark, but the world before them was a wash in red as a massive river of rolling lava flowed past them and down into a small canyon. The sound was incredible: an immense roaring, like the call of a thousand beasts fighting continually to the death.

Adam didn’t even try NOT to compare the planet to Mustafar.

It was a creepy volcanic planet with serious villain vibes.

Even Sunny noticed the similarity, and he could feel her giving him a sidelong glance from the corner of her eye. He had to fight himself not to turn on the Darth Vader voice again, but resisted as best he could.

He was here on official business, Unfortunately, it would be unbecoming to emulated the dark lord of Evil, no matter how objectively awesome he was. Adam had even been adult enough to avoid wearing a cape, even though capes were a perfectly acceptable item of clothing on arcadia, as far as he knew they were even in fashion.

All his mother’s doing.

She had single handedly brought them back through her Arcadia fall collection, which took a lot of its inspiration from Drev and spartan costumes. Decorative armor was all the fashion on Arcadia right now.

Adam himself was still partially armored, and where he wasn’t he wore a heat resistant black bodysuit.

With all his resources, it hadn’t taken too long to track Noctus here. The underground rumor mill was rife with information, and he was more than willing to follow. This had brought them to Morzen, a classically volcanic planet that put places like Earth and Anin to shame. The entire world was covered in rolling lava flows that never seemed to cease. On first glance that might have made the planet completely uninhabitable, but the existence of cool lakes at the poles and seasonal rainstorms created an environment that was surprisingly rife with life.

Many of the planet’s animals had adapted to the extreme heat of molten rock, which to Adam wasn’t as impossible as it might once have seemed, after all, one of his best friends could survive in the vacuum of space.

From where he stood on the deck of the metal refinery’s landing pad, he could see a distant herd of firewalkers, their long spindly legs churning through a knee deep lava flow as they made their way towards the horizon.

Morzen was a planet surprisingly ripe with natural resources, including sulfur and metal mining. This metal refinery boasted a massive heat resistant churn that loaded molten rock into a centrifuge, which then spun the molten metal to separate it into its components, pulling the natural metals from the rock. Or at least that was how he understood it. From there the metal was then cooled and refined while the rock was released back into the lava flow.

Morzen diamonds were also particularly expensive, when considering some of their unique properties. Despite asteroid mining companies having their own synthetic diamond labs, in order to line their drills, they would still pay out the nose for Morzen diamonds, a fact Adam was going to have to look into more closely.

As of now they stood on the upper tier of the Morzen refinery, over a main lava flow, and the heat was so intense, he could feel his entire body tingle with sweat. It was only the cool air being blasted into his face by his helmet climate system that let him stand here for any length of time.

As far as the others went, Sunny seemed unperturbed, while Red, Ramirez and Maverick were well on their way to melting,

Luckily for them the attendant arrived just then.

The Rundi was wearing a specialized metallic heat suit, and its bureaucratic nature didn’t take long to sniff Adam out where he stood at the front of the group. It bowed as was their custom, “Admiral….. Or is there another title you might prefer.”

He caught a brief thought from Sunny that wondered if he was about to ask to be called Lord Vir, and smiled to himself behind the faceplate of his helmet, “Admiral will do.” he reached a hand back motioning to his wilting friends, “Perhaps there is somewhere more comfortable we can speak.”

The Rundi nodded quickly, morning them forward over the hot metal catwalk, and down a set of stairs along the side of the building.

Lava bubbled and rolled below them.

It’s over Anakin, I have the high ground. Adam thought to himself as the door at the base of the catwalk opened and they were ushered into a small decompression chamber. The room was stiflingly hot, and Adam wondered briefly if the Rundi had simply lured them into an oven, but that was not the case. A red light blinked on over the door and then flashed green, filling the compartment with cool clean air.

The sigh of relief was audible.

The Rundi glanced over at Adam nervously as they stepped into the facility.

It was only with his limited use of telepathy was he surprised to find that the Rundi found him imposing, even frightening.

It was an unusual experience.

But not an unwelcome one.

Adam had secretly been practicing his “menacing walk” there wasn’t really anything menacing about it, but it was fast, strong and goal directed, and he thought it made him look purposeful.

He opened up his mind to the rest of the facility following the thought process of the other workers, and creating a map of where he wanted to go. Before the Rundi could even speak, Adam took his first step, sweeping down the hall with long strides, forcing the Rundi into an awkward half walk half jog to keep up.

“Admiral I-”

He held up a hand, “Your assistance is no longer required.”

The rundi faltered, unsure, “But I-”

“That was an invitation for you to leave.” he finished, and the Rundi, stunned paused and let him and his entourage pass. Ramirez jogged to catch up with him, “Dude, really/”

“Don’t ruin this for me, Ramirez, I never get to be menacing.”

The eye rolling was palpable on the air, but he ignored them, and kept up the pace. The SE suit may have been keeping him upright, but it was also loud, and his footfalls were heavy on the metal floor beneath him. The facility around them was mide, and lined in pipes. A wall ran to their left, lined in doors, while a catwalk opened up onto the refinery floor below them, where chemical vats simmered and bubbled. Facility workers in heat resistant uniforms stood at their stations, though from here the cool air was rather pleasant.

Adam could hear the people watching him, and even felt a few of them scamper away towards their master, intending to let Noctus know they were coming no doubt. The rundi that had been sent to meet them had been instructed to stall for time.

But Noctus wasn’t going to get any time.

They exited the refinery part of the facility, walked down a wide set of stairs passing into what must have been the rock bed of the planet, the walls on either side morphed from steel into stone, which although carved by sentient lifeforms, was clearly part of a system of natural tunnels which branched off at odd and unusual angles from the center floor.

The walls had been ground smooth, and chisels had been used to carve decorative patterns into the stone, which was then highlighted in golden paint. The effect was impressive, even more impressive when the corridor itself was partially lit by heat resistant lava tubes, running along the upper side walls, carrying with it the molten metal down to the refinery.

It was an impressive atmosphere.

And Adam found himself immediately jealous.

Though he wouldn’t have mentioned that to anyone.

Along with the carved walls came plush little couches and tall elegant statues.

The floor here was made entirely from dark volcanic glass.

His footsteps were loud, echoing down the hallway as he walked, and at the end he approached a wide set of double doors.

He didn’t break stride as he marched towards the doors, only praying that they weren’t locked as he reached out both hands and shoved the doors inward. Luckily for him the door s were not locked, and they both slid open rather easily. He kept walking leaving the doors open behind him as he swept into the room.

Noctus it seemed had fashioned himself a little kingdom in the time after his prison break.

Once upon a time the Tesraki smuggler had been one of the biggest in the business, a household name, but it seemed that laying low suited him well, and the room they stepped into was nothing but black marble and volcanic glass. The room itself was square around the central floor and on three sides a set of two or three stairs rose up onto the outer edges of the room. The ceiling was supported by blac marble pillars three for each side of the room, and there upon the raised platform, Noctus sat on one of his many couches, eating a bowl of, clearly, imported anin coiltree berries.

The dark-furred tesraki turned his head slowly to look up at them, eyes falling on Adam as he came to a halt on the open palace floor.

His ears flicked in amusement, like a dog or a cat.

“Admiral, it’s been a while, the last time I saw you….. You had significantly more organs.” The tesraki gave him what amounted to a rather sinister grin, which was unnervingly human for what amounted to a talking Kangaroo.

Clearly someone had been keeping him apprised of the situation.

“You haven't changed in the least, Noctus. Still a sniveling coward.”

Noctus sneered, “Coward is just a fancy term idiots use to make themselves feel better for not having a working sense of self preservation.” He took another berry from his bowl.

“Banter aside, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit. You see I am incredibly busy right now.” he licked the berry and its juice from his fingers and adjusted dhis cushion, “I have very little time you see, and it seems you did not book an appointment.”

“I don’t need an appointment.” Adam stepped forward, “What I need is answers, answers that you are going to vie me one way or the other.. And if our sense of self preservation is as good as you say it is, you might as well make things easy on yourself.”

The look Noctus gave him was one of nonconcern as he took another berry passed between his lips.

“Go on then.”

Adam held out a hand to red, who, in turn, slipped one of the glowing orange vials into his gauntleted palm. He held it delicately between finger the thumb, holding it up to the light, “Want to go ahead and tell me what this is.’

He sensed the change in atmosphere as soon as the Tesraki saw the vial, and he was given only a split second to react, as the floor dropped out from underneath them, and a wave of heat rolled up into the room.

A blast of anima Energy was enough to knock Ramirez, Maverick, and Red some ten feet back and onto the steps. Sunny, he grabbed by the arm and hurled bodily to the other side, here she skidded over the stone coming to land in a pile of plush cushions. Adam was the only one who didn’t make it, dropping downward towards the rolling lava flow below

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cruzzramirez · 6 months

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Day 4 - Crack!ship AU

Pit Stop Cars (2006)

Montgomery ‘Lightning’ McQueen/Bessie Ramirez, Emily Ramirez, Other Swynlake Town Residents, Fix-It, Alternate Universe, Hate at First Sight, Small Town Setting, Forced to Work Together, No Beta We Die Like Me, Basically A Cars (2006) Rewrite

“Aw man! You’re letting him work with Bessie?” said the local mechanic and tow truck driver. Accent thick, smile crooked as he glanced between the lawyer and defendant. “I’d give my left leg to do that.”

“Bessie?” scoffed the defendant, handcuffs clanging against the table. “Who’s Bessie?”

“Bessie Ramirez meet uhh…now what was your name again?” asked the mechanic.

“Lightning McQueen,” came the grumbled reply from the man slumped over in the seat next to him. Bessie sat behind her desk opposite the pair of them. She blinked at the American accent. It wasn’t something completely unheard of in this town, but it was interesting to her.

“Oh right! Knew it was something fancy like that. Okay! Bessie meet Mr. McQueen here, Mr. McQueen meet Bessie. She’ll be supervising you as you fix Main Street as your community service for tearing it up in the first place.”

Bessie smiled at Matthew and then to Mr. McQueen. “Hello, it’s-”

“How long is this going to take?” McQueen said. Bessie’s smile dropped in an instant.

Ah. So this was going to be one of those jobs. Alright then. She gave herself a moment to mentally prepare herself.

“Well, seeing as you pretty much carved a canyon down the whole stretch, it’ll probably take us about….five days.”

“Five days!” McQueen exclaimed, body straightening up in his seat, no longer bunched up in the corner trying to push himself as far away as possible. He was leaning forward, eyes wide, “No! No, I need to be in London right now! You can’t keep me here! I need to get on a plane so I can get back to California-”

“Well if you want to get to London so bad, then quit complaining and start working,” Bessie said, eyebrows raised, waiting for him to start arguing. When he didn’t she nodded, satisfied with this, and then stood and turned to Matthew. “Alright, I’ve got it from here.”

“Good luck, Bessie,” he smiled and winked at her as he stood, too. She wrinkled her nose at him.

“You coming over for tea tomorrow?” she asked as she escorted him to the door.

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” he said and then left her alone with this…Lightning McQueen character. He had gone back to sitting in his chair like he was a secondary student in the headmaster’s office. Bessie turned to assess him again with his bad first impression under her belt. He was wearing what she assumed used to be a bright red track suit. It was dirty now, the white stripes that ran up the side of his legs and down the sides of his arms were tinted brown. The cuffs of the sleeves were fraying, the right one torn pretty bad as his hand was bandaged up. His face seemed to know nothing but the glare he had been wearing since he was escorted into her office, and it had dirt on it, too. And his shoes looked like he’d been running for miles in them.

“So,” she started, leaning back against her desk, “all that racquet last night that had the whole town waking up, I take it that was you?”

He shrugged, not looking at her.

“Right. Okay then,” she stood. “Come on, let’s go.”

Bessie went home after her day from hell and fell face first onto the sofa, the cushions bouncing her slightly. She groaned into the pillow she pushed her face into. At the feeling of being able to let her real emotions out, she reached up to grip the pillow tightly with one hand and then start slamming her first into it with the other.

“Bessie?” came the sound of her mother’s voice making her jerk her head up. The woman was looking at her with amusement. “What are you doing?”

Bessie sighed, pushing herself up to sit properly against the back of the couch.

“Bad day?” her mother asked, coming to sit down next to her.

“The worst!” Bessie exploded, having to stand up and pace with all the frustration that was inside of her. “I got stuck with this-this-! This complete narcissist of a man. He’s the one that made Main Street look like it does right now, and for his punishment the Board decided they were going to make him fix it. Instead, all they’re doing is making me suffer for it by babysitting this arsehole.”

She made another noise of frustration, fingers curling tight against her palms.

“Oh, dear. I’m so sorry,” said her mother. “How long do you think it’ll take?”

“Forever!” she cried, arms gesturing wildly. “Because he’s an idiot! I could have told him everything we needed to do today and he could have gotten the first stretch done, but noooo! No, he wanted to try to escape. As if he wouldn’t have gotten arrested anyway for using magic outside of the town limits. It took, like, three hours for him to go get lost in Enchantra and the police to go fish him out before he got himself killed. Ugh, if only.”

“Bessie!”

She winced at that tone and stopped her pacing to sigh heavily, rubbing a hand at her forehead. Bessie walked back over to the sofa to sit back down. “Sorry. I didn’t actually mean that. I’m just…he’s just so annoying! All he’s concerned about is getting to America for some stupid race.”

“Race?”

“Yeah. You know about the Magick Grand Prix?”

Her mother frowned for a moment before a minute amount of recognition passed over her face. “Isn’t that what you used to watch in university?”

“Yes. George had tried out and made it, remember?”

“Ah! Yes! That’s right, that’s right.”

“Anyway,” Bessie sighed, pulling that pillow she’d been abusing before into her lap to hug for comfort. It formed against her perfectly, the soft fabric soothing as her fingers ran across the back of it. “I guess this last race he’s done was a tie between him and two other blokes, so they’re having a final race in London next week.”

“How did he wind up here, then?”

“I don’t know and I don’t care,” Bessie shook her head and then leaned back. “I just want him gone.”

Her mother chuckled at her before pulling her into her arms. Bessie rested her head against her mother’s shoulder, letting her soothe a hand over her hair. She may have been a fully grown woman at this point, but this was still one of the greatest comforts she’d ever known. Slowly, she felt her anger and frustration melt out of her.

“It’ll be alright, dear,” said her mum. “You’ll get through this. Once he’s done his time, he’ll be on his way and you’ll never have to see him again.”

Bessie snorted, looking up at her mum. “I sure hope so.”

The second day was worse than the first actually, because she had to spend the whole time around Lightning McQueen whereas yesterday, at least he’d given her that grace period for the three hours he’d disappeared into Enchantra. Today the imbecile decided that he didn’t need to listen to any of Bessie’s instructions! No! Because she hadn’t been doing this for years now! All the roads in Swynlake didn’t look as nice as they did because of her! The sidewalks weren’t smooth and well put in because of her! Not! At! All!

Instead he’d taken matters into his own stupid hands and decided to do the whole road using his magic to get it done. Bessie had almost, almost, thought to be impressed when he’d come running to tell her that he had finished already. He’d been sweating and panting, looking like he had actually put in effort. But, after only the slim time she’d had to know him, she hadn’t let her hopes get up too high.

And what a good thing, too. She stared, horrified at the road he presented her with.

“No need to thank me,” he grinned, still breathing a little heavy. “Just have to let the people in charge know and I’ll be on my way.”

The road was, if anything, worse than it was before. Now instead of a giant cavern of zig-zag seperating the concrete, the asphalt on top was creating the opposite effect. It was bumpy and rough, uneven in every way imaginable. Even some of the original damage was still visible, barely filled in.

“It looks awful!” she said.

“Well,” he shrugged. “It just matches the rest of the town.”

Bessie snapped.

She was known around town for being a very composed individual. Nice and lovely, someone that people could come to for a level headed answer. She was a very reasonable person. After all, she was the daughter of Emily Ramirez, who had been wise from a young age and had only gotten that much more as she had grown older.

On that day, her reputation may have taken a beating from everyone hearing her go off on this man in the middle of town. But she couldn’t help it. He’d insulted her hometown, the place that had raised her and so many others, that offered protection for those that were othered by the whole country.

After she had finished yelling at him and had him cowering under her glare, she finished with, “You are going to tear this up and you are going to start all over!”

“What!”

“Did I stutter?” she asked and he had the good grace to not try to start an argument. “I’ll bring you the tools you need. And because you decided to waste the whole day, I guess we’ll have to go into the night with this.”

She heard him groan as she turned on her heel.

Into the night they did go, as it had taken him all afternoon and evening to tear up the heinous shit he had thought would be his ticket out of town. She had to set up the lights while he was doing that, listening to him cry and complain to himself as he went. And if she’d thought that was bad, having to hear him just plain go mental that night had…well, actually it had been pretty entertaining. As much as she had wanted to go home, watching him take his anger out like this was like some sort of weird vindication for her. Knowing that he was suffering as much as she was, if not that much more.

At one point she had called his name and he turned too fast and slipped, falling on his ass into a leftover puddle from the rain that had briefly fallen the day before, and she couldn’t help but to laugh.

“Oh, you think this is funny, Bessie?” he had yelled, the sound of it echoing off the shoppe fronts.

Bessie had smiled in the face of his glare and shrugged. “Yeah, actually. It’s pretty funny.”

At around 11 o’clock, when his yelling had settled down, his movements got more sluggish, and they’d run out of asphalt, she’d told him it was time to call it quits. The stretch of road he had managed to get done, and done properly, had turned out…incredibly well. It was smooth and sleek, she knew just by looking at it that it would dry to near perfection.

They’d locked up all the equipment and turned off the lights. She was supposed to walk him back to the hotel, where he was staying while being here, when she heard his stomach growl.

He frowned at her, because she’d been staring, and self consciously went to defend himself, “I haven’t eaten in-!”

“No, I- I know, I know. That’s my fault,” she said and really did feel bad. She hadn’t even thought about it, too pissed off about the whole thing to remember that he was still a person. Despite believing himself to be a god, he did need all the basic things that everyone else did. Like food. She hadn’t eaten either. “Come on.”

“...but the hotel is that way,” Lightning said, pointing.

“I know,” she rolled her eyes, not stopping. “I’ve lived here my whole life.”

She felt a woosh of air hit against her back and then he was suddenly walking right beside her. “Then where are you going?”

“You’re hungry, right?” she asked. He nodded. “Well I am, too. So, unless you want to go back and live off of the complimentary chocolate they leave on your pillow, then you can come with me to get something to eat.”

He allowed them to walk in silence the rest of the way to Chippamunka’s, which was always the answer to any late night cravings. She ushered him inside, telling him to have a seat in one of the booths while she went to go greet the waitress that was on shift up at the counter.

“Bessie!”

“Hi Helen,” she smiled, leaning her elbows onto the counter’s surface. “How’re you tonight?”

“By the looks of it, better than you,” said the waitress. She was an older woman, older than Bessie’s mum, even. The rumors went that she worked the night shift at Chippamunka’s just because she wanted to. She was supposed to be retired but got bored of that and picked up a job simply because she could, not because she needed to. She had been there ever since Bessie had been a kid, always a comforting presence to find in the dead of the night when she had been in need of a pick me up. Especially when she’d still been going to university, which had only been last year.

The older woman’s eyes shifted to the other party in the diner. Bessie turned to look, too.

Lightning McQueen had a menu between his hands, reading over it with interest. He was still in that same red track suit, which looked very worse for wear now. Below, his leg was jostling rapidly. The two woman turned back to look at one another.

“I heard you really gave it to him earlier today,” Helen said, raising an eyebrow and Bessie hid her face in her hands.

“I don’t even remember,” she said, dragging her fingers down until they were pressing into her cheeks. “I blacked out, I was just so angry.”

“He a handful?”

“More than,” Bessie sighed.

“Well,” Helen said, leaning forward to peer around Bessie again. She assessed the man again, then tilted her head a little, eyes softening, “at least he’s nice to look at.”

That made Bessie bark out a laugh. She reached forward, patting Helen’s arm.

She returned to the table with two waters, sliding one across to McQueen. He caught it and picked it up, downing it all until the ice was pushing toward him and hitting him in the nose. McQueen slammed the cup down, wiping this mouth with the back of his grimy sleeve.

“Thanks,” he said, leaning back. Bessie merely nodded, reaching for a straw to unwrap and stab into her water. She took a few sips before thinking to ask, “Do you know what you want?”

When Helen came around, McQueen had pretty much ordered half the menu. Bessie had thought he was just being dramatic, but had been baffled to watch as he cleaned every plate that was brought out to him.

“Wow,” she blinked when he had finished off a stack of pancakes. “You were really hungry.”

“High metabolism,” he said. “From the magic.”

“Right,” she nodded.

The walk across town to the hotel felt…awkward. At least to Bessie. Glancing over at McQueen, he seemed perfectly content. Or maybe he was just very tired. But that was why she felt awkward about this whole thing, because now she had seen this. Seen him get tired and be hungry and smile at Helen and thank her every time she brought him something and be polite. She had seen him be quiet. Be...a person, not just the hot shot persona he put forward all the time or the angry, slighted victim that demanded he be listened to.

Now she felt guilty for everything she had said today and for making him work all that time without a break. And, now, for not apologizing for any of it.

She didn’t want to, was the main thing, too scared that if she did admit fault to anything that he would use it like ammunition when he was himself again. Because she didn’t know which one was the actual Lightning McQueen.

“Alright,” she said, as they approached the hotel. “See you tomorrow.”

Bessie turned to leave.

“Wait!” he said, making her stop and turn to look at him. His eyes were moving to look around them. She frowned. “You’re…you’re going to walk home alone?”

“Yes.”

“In the dark?”

“I mean…yeah,” she said, wondering why he was pointing out the obvious but acting like it was all very- oh. Oh. Bessie pressed a smile to her face. “I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

She turned around and started walking again, “I’ve lived here my whole life, I’m pretty sure!”

Her mother was sitting in the kitchen, a pair of steaming mugs sitting on the table. Bessie joined her without saying anything, just sinking into the seat and kicking off her shoes before reaching for the mug her mum was pushing toward her.

“How’d it go today?”

“Terrible,” Bessie sighed. She took a sip of tea. “But the last few hours…were better.”

“Oh?”

Bessie nodded. Then shrugged, “We’ll see how tomorrow goes.”

And tomorrow went about as well as the last few hours of the previous night. At least now McQueen seemed to understand there was no work around to the situation he had gotten himself into. No one was going to help him, he had to help himself, and to do that he was going to have to fix the road that he broke, and do it correctly.

Bessie helped when she was needed, leveling and bringing more asphalt when it was necessary. She moved the cones to block off the road the more he moved down it, and opened up the part that had finished settling. She had been right, it turned out beautifully, almost too much, since it made the portion right next to it, that wasn’t bad at all and didn’t really need fixing, look like it did.

At the height of the day, when the sun was peering down from right above and the slight breeze of the morning had died down, she’d come down to see that McQueen’d taken off the track suit jacket, down to the no longer pristine white color that it used to be. He looked gross, quite frankly.

And at the end of the day, when he had finished the next stretch and she wasn’t going to stay another full night out there, she watched as he went to pick up the jacket only to find it covered in dust and grime. His head tilted back to look at the sky, letting out a loud sigh that was more of a groan.

“They have washing machines at the hotel, you know,” she said as she was talking him back to the Tipton.

“I know,” he replied, looking very sadly down at the ball of fabric between his hands. “I don’t have any quarters for them.”

Oh. Right. She had watched him pay with a card yesterday at the diner. Bessie paused, looking down at her watch to check the time. It was only 6:00pm. She could spare an hour.

“Come on,” she said.

This time he didn’t question where they were going, just followed beside her as she walked him into one of the clothing shoppes.

“Hey, Bessie!” smiled one of her best friends, Jerome Cassidy. He’d been working in the shoppe since he’d been old enough to apply and had never wanted to do anything else. He eye’d Lightning McQueen, having gotten the 411 on everything about him from Bessie’s point of view over a few phone calls.

Feeling the scrutiny, McQueen lifted his head to smile and wave.

“Hey, Jerome,” she replied back. “You have anything in his size?”

Jerome hummed, stepping closer to McQueen to circle around him. McQueen’s eyes followed him, shoulders lifting slightly. It made Bessie have to bite back a smile. Jerome stopped in front of McQueen, resting his index finger against his cheek, the rest falling under his chin. “I think I have something that could work.”

“Perfect.”

McQueen stepped out of the dressing room in a new pair of boots, jeans with a belt, and a dark green flannel shirt, still buttoning the last few before looking up at Bessie and Jerome. He frowned, letting his arms fall flippantly at his sides. “I look like a lumberjack.”

“You wish,” Bessie scoffed. “We’ll take it.”

She smiled as she watched McQueen reluctantly pay for the clothes, and then pout as she forced him to throw out his tattered tennis shoes. As they stepped out of the shoppe she started off in the opposite direction of the hotel. Now, he felt the need to ask where they were going.

“My house,” she said, attempting nonchalance. Like this wasn’t a big deal. Because it wasn’t. Except it was, because she didn’t want him to know where she lived or for him to meet her mum or to look at anything in her place of refuge and comfort from the world. “So you can clean your clothes.”

“Mum!” she called as they stepped inside. Bessie went through putting her things in their place, muscle memory. Her jacket hung on the rack by the door, her shoes kicked off just underneath it. Her keys went on the little table against the wall on the other side of the entryway and next to them her purse.

“In the kitchen,” came her mother’s reply before the woman herself appeared in the doorway. She had an apron on over her skirt, flour dusting her skin. “I was just making- oh. Hello.”

Her eyes had shifted from her daughter to the man standing behind her, still by the door.

“Mum, this is Lightning McQueen,” Bessie said, keeping her voice pleasant but widening her eyes at her mother so that she would know. Her mum caught on and smiled, wiping her hand off on her apron, and approached McQueen.

“How do you do, Mr. McQueen?” she greeted, holding out her hand to him. He fumbled for a moment, tucking the ball of dirty clothes he’d been carrying under his arm so he could take her hand and nod.

“Good. And you?”

“Just fine, thank you,” she replied. “I’m Emily.”

“It’s very nice to meet you…Emily.”

Yeah. Bessie regretted everything about this.

“We’re just here so he can wash his clothes,” Bessie explained.

“Is that what those are?” her mum asked, looking at the bundle he’d tried to hide. “My goodness! No wonder. Well come on in, we’ll get you all sorted out. Lightning was it?”

He nodded.

Bessie led him into the kitchen, opening the door to the washing machine for him to chuck his things in. It didn’t occur to her until after she was pouring the detergent into the cap of the bottle why he was acting so squirrely about the clothes, trying to keep them out of sight and like a forgotten piece of the situation despite them being the whole point. She caught a glimpse of one of his socks and realized his underwear was in there somewhere.

Back in the shoppe Jerome had asked, very loudly since McQueen was in the dressing room, “Do you want boxers or briefs?”

Bessie smiled to herself, shaking her head as she leaned down to pour the detergent across the clothes. That’s where she caught a glimpse of a different fabric among the dirty red track suit and white undershirt. It was a red, too, but with a print of the number 95 in an orange-y yellow ombre duplicated across it. Bessie rolled her eyes and stood back up to shut the door and turn it on.

She turned around to find her mum was putting McQueen to work. He was standing at the kitchen counter, a potato in one hand and a peeler in the other, getting the skin off.

“When you’re done with those, the carrots are right here,” her mum said.

When she looked over to Bessie they shared a silent conversation behind the man’s back.

Bessie opened her hands in distress, shaking her head.

Emily waved a hand at her daughter.

Bessie moved her hand in a sharp line in front of her neck, over and over, shaking her head more fervently.

“You’re staying for dinner, aren’t you?” asked Emily. McQueen turned around, making Bessie drop her hands quickly and stand up straight.

“Oh. Um,” he glanced between the two of them. Bessie was trying communicate with her face that he needed to say no. This seemed to make him smile, turning on whatever he thought was charm as he smiled at her mother, “If you don’t mind.”

“Well-” started Bessie,

“Of course we don’t mind!” Emily said.

And that’s how Bessie was, once again, sharing dinner with Lightning McQueen. His clothes were hanging up in the back room on the clothing line to dry. He’d been insistent on doing it himself.

It was a simple meal of meat and potatoes, but it was wonderful all the same. Bessie wished she could have enjoyed it more, if not for her mum grilling McQueen after every bite.

It’s where she learned that McQueen was from California, which probably explained his complexion. And attitude. Or maybe that just had everything to do with his upbringing.

It was where she learned about how he got into the sport, how he trained, why he liked to compete, and of course, all about the race that he was trying to get home to. Which led him into the story of how he accidentally came to Swynlake and ruined the street.

It was actually…scary. A biker gang had run his driver off the road, dragged him out the car, and were trying to hold him up. He’d gotten away, using his speed. But anywhere in the middle of nowhere was scary when you didn’t know the land and it was night, no light to be found. Bessie hated that she felt sympathetic to the story, frowning as she moved her potatoes around on her plate instead of eating them.

“Is that why your arm’s all wrapped up?” asked Emily.

He nodded, looking down at it. “Yeah. I…kinda made a mess when I got here.”

“No kidding,” Bessie snorted, looking up when she felt her mum swipe at her. “What? He did!”

“And he’s cleaning it up now. Aren’t you, Lightning?”

“Trying to,” he agreed. Then he nodded toward a flyer that was sitting on top of the stack of mail in the middle of the kitchen table. “I’ve seen those all over town. What’re they for?”

“Oh! That’s for a little event the Town Hall is putting on. It’s a fundraiser for a local youth sports league. They’re trying to go to nationals this year,” Emily explained. “They do these things often in town. They’ll have food and music. Everyone comes out to support one another. It’ll be fun! You should go!”

“I don’t think he’ll be here that long,” Bessie cut in for him, already reading the reluctance on his face.

“That’s right. You have that big race. What was it for again?” her mum asked, sending McQueen off onto another tangent about something called a Piston Cup and someone named Dinerco.

Bessie was putting on her coat and shoes at the door, listening to her mum insist that McQueen take a box of food back with him in the kitchen. She’d gotten him a bag to put his freshly cleaned clothes into, along with the food and a few cookies for desert.

He came out into the entryway alone and stopped when they made eye contact. McQueen took a few steps closer, nodding to the door, “You don’t have to walk me back.”

“It’s my job,” she replied, pulling her hair free from under the collar.

“It’s late. You’re already home,” he continued to argue. “I can walk myself back. It’ll take me all of ten seconds.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, obviously suspicious. McQueen raised his hands in mock surrender, the bag her mother had given to him hanging off one of his thumbs. “I’m not going to run away again. I’m almost done with the road, anyway. I’m just saying, there’s no need for you to get out again.”

Bessie continued to stare at him, trying to find any indication that he was lying to her and plotting his escape plan. When she seemed to find only sincerity, she nodded slowly. “Okay…okay, but only if you call as soon as you get there.”

“Deal,” he said. Bessie stepped over to her purse and handed him one of her business cards. He saluted her with it, smiling, and then walked out the door.

She hadn’t even got her coat hung back on the hook before the phone was ringing.

The next morning Bessie was getting McQueen set up to start working on the road when Deliah came running from up the road, looking all in a tizzy.

“Bessie! Bessie!”

“Hey, what-?” Bessie had to catch Deliah by her shoulders before she crashed into her. “What’s wrong?”

“We just-!” Delilah took a second to breathe. “We just got a call in the office. The forest path by the river is under water. We need someone to go out there and put the precautions up before someone goes walking down it.”

“Oh. Well is Trevor-?”

“He’s out by the farmlands today, remember? The cows-”

“Ah, I totally forgot. Um, okay! Well, then, can you watch him while I head out there?”

“Sorry, Bess, I’ve got to-“

“The secondary parking lot. Right,” Bessie finished. She made it her mission to know what everyone in the office was doing, never wanting anyone to feel like they were forgotten or like their projects were unimportant. She pressed her lips together and looked over at McQueen.

He returned her gaze for a few seconds, and she was waiting for him to protest and argue and throw a hissy fit about how he needed to finish the road and that this wasn’t fair to him. And it would be true, it wasn’t fair. But his shoulder drooped a little and he sighed.

“I’ll go with you,” he said. “The quicker we get it done, the quicker we can get back.”

“Thank you,” Bessie said, earnest. He just nodded and gestured at her to lead.

They had to go back to the office for her to get the supplies she needed to block off the footpath. Or at least to the point where if anyone did go around the warnings and gates, they couldn’t come back to sue the town for negligence or whatever else. McQueen helped her put it all in the little buggy before he plopped down in the passenger seat.

Bessie always liked going out on the Enchantra trails. For the job or just for the fun of it. On days like today, when the sun was manageable in the shade and the made breeze from the ride was cooling her skin, it was one of the best things to do. Getting to see the lush greens of the leaves in their summer bloom alongside all the vibrant flowers was something she would never tire of, no matter how many times she made this trip.

She’d glanced over at McQueen as they got closer to the river, the water clearer than usual and sparkling against the sun’s light. Expecting to see him with his arms crossed over his chest, sitting like he had that first day in her office, closed off and reluctant to be there.

Instead, he was sitting up and looking out at the scenery. One hand was holding the top of the buggy as he leaned closer to the edge of it, the other laying flat on the seat to hold himself up a little bit. His eyes were wide, mouth slightly agape as the corners were curled upward. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

Huh. So, even someone like him could be softened by the wonders of nature.

She didn’t know why, but she felt the need to keep looking over at him.

One time, she found that he was looking over at her, too.

She stopped looking after that.

Once they got to the point on the path that diverged, one leading down closer to the river that was going to be under water, she parked the buggy and hopped out.

“How can I help?” McQueen asked.

“Stay here for now,” she said, pulling out her bigger boots. “I’m going to go look at the water for a second. Just to see what sort of clean up we’ll have to do.”

“Maybe I could-“

“No,” she shook her head. “If you got hurt before your big race, you’d never forgive yourself.”

Bessie could feel his eyes on her as she walked off down the path and had to force herself to keep looking forward instead of checking over her shoulder. It didn’t take her very long to get down there, only venturing far enough to see it, not going anywhere near the edge of the water. She didn’t have anything like a career altering moment to get to in the next week, but she wasn’t going to get swept up in the water for being an idiot. It was pretty, though. Seeing the water rushing over itself.

“Wow,” came a voice beside her, making her jump and turn, ready to attack.

“You-!” she yelled as soon as her brain recognized McQueen standing there next to her. Bessie turned to look up the path, where she had left him, and then back to where he was standing. “I told you to stay put!”

“I got bored.”

“Ugh,” she rolled her eyes.

“And this isn’t even that dangerous. It’s just…beautiful.”

Bessie, reluctant to have this kind of moment with him, snorted. “What? They don’t have things like this in California? I thought you traveled around all over, anyway.”

“Well sure. We’ve got mountains and waterfalls and all of that but I…” he frowned, his hands finding the pockets of his jeans to shove themselves into. “I don’t really have time to go do this sort of thing.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, feeling the snottiness of her tone falling away. Bessie glanced out at the river, “You can’t even go for a walk?”

“No. I have to train and travel, and when I’m not doing that I’m filming things for my sponsor or going to events for them. Or I’m meeting fans and doing interviews so I keep my PR up and even have fans to support me. Or I’m meeting with my team to go over strategy, or marketing, or whatever else. It’s always go-go-go. I never get to just…slow down.”

“Sounds awful.”

“It’s not. I mean, it can be, but, I love racing.”

“You didn’t even say racing in that whole terrible description,” she pointed out.

“Well, that’s just the stuff I have to do to be able to race and even have a chance at winning the Piston Cup.”

“Are you sure about that?” she asked. “Seems kinda pointless if all you have at the end of the day is just a trophy.”

When he didn’t answer she turned, heading back up the path to get started on blocking off the path.

“What about you?” he asked when he caught back up. “You ever think about leaving the small town life? Trying a city on for size?”

“No,” Bessie smiled. “I mean, I’ve thought about it, of course. I think everyone that grows up here has their moments of thinking about a life away from it. Some go do that, some return, and some of us stay here.”

“You don’t want to leave? Just to see what’s out there?”

“I’ll travel when I have the money, sure. But this place is my home,” she told him. “I know the people here. I like my job, keeping the foundations of it in place for everyone to come and go as they please. It’s where I belong.”

He hummed at this but didn’t try to argue anymore. They walked in a comfortable silence the rest of the way back.

It didn’t take them too long to get everything set up, but she sort of side tracked them when she accidentally kicked dirt up onto his chest as he was leaning down to hold a stake steady as she hammered it into the ground.

It made her giggle.

He frowned, looking up at her. “Why is it that whenever I get something on me, it’s always your fault?”

This had then turned into a little dirt throwing war that ended with her winning when he called, “Uncle! Uncle!” after getting a handful of dirt down the collar of his shirt.

They packed back up and rode back to town. He worked for a few hours that afternoon until the sun began to set. She offered to turn the lights on and move them further down so he could continue into the night but he shook his head.

“That’s alright,” he told her. She shrugged, and started to gather the tools to go put them away. “Hey, I can put this stuff away. You can go ahead.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” McQueen smiled. Bessie found herself smiling back, pleasantly surprised. Hey, maybe all it took was showing someone a slice of nature. “Thanks for letting me tag along today.”

“You were doing me the favor,” she said. “Alright well…I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yes you will,” he nodded. “You have a good night.”

Bessie went home and found it weird to realize today had actually been okay.

The next morning she walked out to Main Street to find that it was finished. The whole thing. From top to bottom, it was covered in a nice, clean, smooth layer of asphalt. She walked down it until she reached the end of the road, a little past the Tipton’s entrance. She couldn’t believe it. Bessie looked to the sides, finding the lights sitting on the sides of the road.

He must have worked all night to finish it.

Which meant…

Bessie jogged over to the hotel and asked the front desk if they had seen him.

“The sheriff checked him out earlier,” Sharon, the concierge, said. She gave Bessie a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, Bess.”

“That’s okay,” she said. It’s not like she cared.

She walked back outside, taking a breath for herself in an attempt to convince herself that she was fine. Who needed a goodbye from some idiot anyway? It totally fit who he was as a person. Running away from everything. She was stupid to think-

“Bessie! Hey!”

She blinked, turning her head to watch Lightning McQueen come jogging across the street. He was back in his, still tattered but mostly clean, track suit and with a sheen of sweat on his forehead and neck. Which she was not looking at. At all.

“Uh, hi,” she said, her confusion in her tone and all over her face. “What’re you still doing here? You should be getting a plane back to California right about now, shouldn’t you?”

There was only two days left before the race, and as far as she was aware, a trip back to America wasn’t exactly the fastest thing in the world. It wouldn’t take him the whole two days, but she didn’t think stepping off a plane right onto the track would be advisable.

“Well, I wanted to take a few laps around the paths this morning,” he said, which would explain why he was so sweaty and breathing hard. “And I also wanted to say goodbye.”

“Oh,” she said. “Well…bye.”

“No! No, I mean, you know, properly. And I wanted to thank your mom, too. Her cookies? So good.”

Bessie had no idea what to say to this, so all she did was stare in reply.

“I have a few things to do today. People to see, places to go,” he said. “So, I’ll meet you at your office when you’re off. Sound good?”

She found herself nodding.

“Alright, see you!” he waved.

“But you don’t…” she started, watching him dart off to enter the hotel, “...have a room anymore- okay. Sure.”

Bessie made it back to the office, sending a few people that were in to go pick up the lights, and then got started on the paperwork for the finished road. She and Trevor headed out to the forest path to see how the river was treating it and decided that they better keep the signs up for another day because while the water had gone down, it was still pretty slippery. She kept herself busy until Lightning was knocking on her door at the end of her day.

He was back in the clothes he’d bought in town, smiling brightly, “Hi.”

“Hi,” she echoed.

They stared at one another for a long moment before she cleared her throat, “So, uh, you said you wanted to say goodbye?”

“Yeah, I figured, you’ve taken me to eat twice. It’s about time I returned the favor,” he said. “Can I take you somewhere? I passed by that Chinese place by the university earlier?”

“Imperial City? Uh, yeah, sure, we can go there,” she agreed.

“Great.”

The walk across down was weird to say the least. People passed them by, saying hello to both of them. By name. Like they knew him or something. And weirder, he called them by name! As if he knew them, too!

“Bessie! McQueen!” the mechanic called as they passed him getting into his truck.

“Hey, Matt,” Lightning replied. “You going tonight?”

“Of course. Bessie, save me a dance!”

“Uh…okay?” Bessie agreed, watching Matthew wave out the open window of his truck and drive off. “Save him a dance?”

“The fundraiser?” Lightning filled in for her.

“That’s tonight? Wow,” she shook her head at herself. “I feel like this week as been-”

“A total blur? Yeah, I know what you mean.”

To her surprise, the meal wasn’t as painful as she thought it was going to be. Their conversation was pleasant and nice. She found herself answering the questions he asked without her usual snark. She was honest, like she wanted him to know since it seemed like he was actually interested in hearing what she had to say.

He made her laugh. She made him laugh. They got into a bit of an argument over grass and terf, which had somehow come up in conversation, and then left.

Bessie felt like she was buzzing as she walked beside him toward her neighborhood. Then, it suddenly hit her, that the night was coming to a close. This was it. This was a goodbye, after all, and after he had dropped her off at home and had a conversation with her mum about who knew what, he would leave. And he would never come back.

She hated how disappointed she felt about that.

They approached the corner that Town Hall sat on, the music from inside carrying out into the street where the large doors were propped open. People were all walking toward it, like moths to a flame. She was getting ready to step off the curb to cross the street when she felt his hand grab onto hers. Bessie followed the line of his arm up to his face.

He looked nervous, the crease of his brow anything but the confidence he liked to wear everyday. She furrowed her brow at him, head moving to one side in a silent question as to why he was delaying them.

“...want to dance?” he asked, turning slightly toward Town Hall. Bessie glanced over at the entrance, then back to him. She smiled and then nodded.

Lightning led her inside until they were on the dance floor. She expected it to be awkward, but it wasn’t. Maybe because he didn’t seem all that concerned with the people around them, or with anyone but her, so it made her feel comfortable enough to let go. For one song, and then another, and another, until the transition from one to the next didn’t even register until the rhythm slowed down and he was pulling her by the hand closer until he had a hand on her waist and hers was resting on his shoulder.

She sighed, gathering up the courage to look up at him and found he was already looking at her, eyes soft and smile even softer. It had her blushing.

“Lightning-” she started.

“Monty,” he said.

“What?”

“My name,” he said, “It’s- well, it’s Montgomery, but, you can call me Monty.”

“Oh,” she smiled and laughed, airy. “So your parents didn’t actually set you up for this god complex? You got that all on your own?”

“They’re not completely innocent,” he replied, falling into rhythm with her teasing almost as easily as they were stepping in time together to the music.

“Sure,” Bessie said, then swallowed. Her fingers tightening in the fabric of the flannel on his shoulder, “Monty.”

“Lightning McQueen!” someone called and Bessie rolled her eyes, leaning forward to bury her head into his chest because she thought it was just Matthew or something, rolling up just in time to ruin the moment.

But then the music was drowned out by the sound of people calling his name, and Bessie looked up only to be blinded by flashing lights. There were suddenly so many people talking at one time she couldn’t even make out one word from the next. The crowd of people, cameras and microphones, pushed toward them. She felt his grip on her hand tighten. Then someone grabbed her other hand, a shoulder pressing passed her.

“Hey!” she protested, trying to keep her hold on his hand. “Monty!”

“Bessie!” he replied. She watched as he flinched under the blinding lights of the cameras. One of them knocked against her temple, making her lose her grip on him, and suddenly he was in the middle of the pool as she was pushed to the edge.

She didn’t see him leave, didn’t get to say what she wanted to. Didn’t even get to say goodbye. He was just gone. Everyone had come out onto the Main Street, the asphalt he had poured and smoothed over under their feet, as they watched a barrage of cars leaving the town. The night colored in the red of their tail lights.

Bessie went home.

“Hey,” her mum greeted her. “How was your day?”

“It was…good,” she smiled.

“Mr. McQueen leave?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “He wanted me to tell you he said thank you. For dinner. He liked your cookies.”

“Oh, how sweet,” her mum said, pressing a hand to her chest. “We’ll have to watch his race this weekend.”

“Yeah,” Bessie agreed. “We should.”

Everyone else seemed to have the same idea about the race, basically bullying the owners at the Deer to put the Magick Grand Prix race on all their televisions. A good crowd had gathered, ordered their drinks and food, and settled in to watch as the three finalists took to the track. Bessie held her breath as she watched the cameras get a close up on Lightning McQueen, the announcers talking about how he had been missing for a week and that everyone had been happy to find him again. Rescued from some no-where town in England.

“Hey! That’s us!” Matthew grinned from where he was sitting beside her in the booth she and her mum had claimed. Bessie shook her head, picking up her pint and hiding her smile behind it. The race felt long and torturous, every lap around the changing course felt like an hour when it only took a few minutes.

At one point, the Chick Hicks character had ankle tapped McQueen, sending him plunging off the side of a high up obstacle. Everyone in the pub gasped, their breaths kept hostage in their lungs until the camera showed a hand reaching up over the edge. Then McQueen’s face, and other hand, until he pulled himself back up. Then everyone was cheering.

Bessie wasn’t, though, because he wasn’t getting back up. He was just laying there. He looked okay, but from just a camera view, who the hell even knew? She bit down on her lip, waiting.

McQueen rolled over onto his stomach, getting up onto his hands and knees. He reached up to swipe a hand over his face, then pulled away to look at his palm. She couldn’t tell what he was looking at. A scratch? Was something stuck in here?

The camera cut over to the other two racers, who had slowed down as they tried to figure out how to jump over some big cavern in the middle of the course, and then it was back on McQueen. He was picking up a handful of dirt for some reason and standing. Then he proceeded to rub it between his hands, and off on his uniform, until it was dirtied.

“What the hell is he doin’?” Matthew asked, leaning closer to her. Bessie shrugged, but smiled.

McQueen started running again, and when he got to where the other racers were, he didn’t slow down. Instead he sped up, and decided that he was just going to go over the giant gap in the course.

By some miracle, he made it across, and continued on. He was a lap down, though, so he had a lot to make up for.

“Look at him go!” Matthew said then whistled through his teeth. “Oh man, looks like he’s back in it!”

The race continued. One lap after another, until the final one was up. All three were beside one another, neck and neck and neck at this point. They all looked tired, but it seemed like McQueen had the edge of youth on his side. Or maybe it was something else that made him look so determined.

Again, though, it seemed Chick Hicks wanted to play dirty because as soon as he was right behind the other racer, the one in the turquoise uniform, everyone was stumbling. McQueen was off screen as the man in turquoise fell forward, hands out in front of him. But he just kept tumbling over himself, as the part of the course was a large down hill. Down, down, down, he rolled until everything flattened out again. But by the time he’d stopped, he looked awful. Beat up, face bloody. There was no telling what state his limbs were in.

Chick Hicks kept running.

McQueen, who had apparently managed to keep his feet, and had pulled out in a very large lead, had stopped. Right at the finish line and turned around. Chick Hicks crossed the finish line, being deemed the winner.

But no one was paying him any attention. Even the cameras were all focused on McQueen as he was picking up the racer in turquoise, which Bessie was hearing to be named The King. And she had thought Lightning McQueen was a showboat of a name.

He slung the man over the back of his shoulders, and carried him toward the finish line. He walked backwards across it, so that The King crossed it first, and then was able to hand him off to the paramedics that had finally made it onto the course.

Everyone in the pub erupted into cheers and applause. The night continued on with celebrating the little celebrity that they had all come to know over the course of a few short days, and who had left his mark right in the center of town.

Bessie went to sleep concluding that the day had gone better than she expected. It was tomorrow she was worried about.

Nothing happened. She went to work, got a call about a pothole that would need to be repaired, and continued on. As always. That’s just what the people of Swynlake did. They continued on.

It wasn’t until the day after that did she get a phone call from someone with an American accent.

“Hey! Is this Bessie Ramirez?”

“Yes, how can I help you?”

“I’m Gerri Peterson with the California Gazet, we were wondering if you could do an interview with your time with Lightning McQueen and-!”

Bessie hung up. She got a few more phone calls like this. The tenth one she answered it by saying, “Piss off, you vultures!” and hung up.

She wanted to stop answering her phone altogether. She would have to look into getting a new number later.

“Hello. Yes, this is Bessie Ramirez. No, I am not going to be interviewed,” she answered her phone as she was walking home that afternoon, tired and annoyed now.

“That’s good to know,” said a familiar voice. She blinked, pulling the phone away from her ear for a moment to look at it, as if that would help her brain decipher if this was real or not.

“Uh, hello?” she asked.

“Hi, Bessie,” and yes. It was Monty.

“Hi,” she replied. “Um, not to be rude or anything but…why are you calling me?”

“My agent told me that everyone’s been contacting people in Swynlake. You especially since my community service was apparently a public record and since you were the one overlooking it, your name was on the document. I wanted to say sorry,” he said. “Those people are vultures.”

She huffed a laugh, “Yeah. I know. I could barely deal with them for a day. Can’t imagine how you’re holding up after what you pulled the other day.”

“You watched?”

“Of course,” she said. “The whole town did. Well, most of us, anyway. At least that’s what it felt like.”

“What did you think?”

“I thought it was very boring,” she smiled and it grew when she heard him laugh over the line. “But it sure did pick up in the end.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you.”

“Matthew loved it.”

“How’s he doing? I was going to call him after you.”

“He’s good. Same as ever. He’s started a petition to rename Main Street after you.”

“Really? You know, I always said he was the smartest person in that town.”

“He has his moments.”

She walked a few more steps, stopping on the corner of her street in Tortuga. They simply sat in the silence for a few more moments before Bessie knew she had to say something.

“Well. I guess this is goodbye.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said in an instant.

“Yes. It does,” she said. “You have your busy life and I have my quiet one. I wouldn’t make it a day in your world, and you’d get bored here. We both know it.”

“But-”

“No buts. We had a good couple of days. That’s all. You can call me whenever, alright? So, I’ll talk to you sometime. Sound good?”

“No.”

She smiled. “Very well. Goodbye, Monty.”

“I’m not saying it,” he said and she felt her heart squeeze. “Not yet.”

“Whatever you say,” she said. Bessie hung up, phone clipping shut between her fingers.

It wasn’t until a month later that the office got a very peculiar phone call about a new resident needing their sidewalk repaved.

“What? But that’s in the Tortuga Neighborhood. No one there needs anything repaired.”

“I don’t know. It’s just what the caller asked for. You want me to go take a look?”

Bessie side, letting her head fall forward on her desk. She knew what sort of person was probably moving in and hated the idea of them already. She picked her head up, “No, Trevor. I’ve got it.”

She walked there, taking the brisk winter air in to settle the annoyed heat that had been blooming in her chest at the thought of his call. What kind of uppity person was this? Needing their sidewalk repaved when it was, no doubt, perfectly fine! Bessie knew these things! She would have been the first one to ask the new resident if they wanted something filled in!

She stepped up to the house, eyes glued to the pavement. And wouldn’t you know it, it looked perfectly fine.

Oooo, she was in for one with whoever was inside that house.

Bessie marched up the walkway, and knocked.

And wouldn’t you know who opened the door but Lightning McQueen. She took a step back, her anger melting at such a surprise.

“Wha-? What the-? “

“Let me explain,” he said, following her as she kept walking backwards down the front lawn. “Bessie, wait! Where are you going?”

“I don’t know!” she said. “I can’t-! Why are you here?”

“I bought a house!” he said. She whipped around, eyes looking from him up to the house and then back again.

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No, you didn’t!”

“Yes I did! I can show you the paperwork!”

“No, you didn’t. You can’t just buy a house. Not here.”

“Why not?”

“Because!” she blurted, all the emotions she’d been keeping inside of her for the past few months spilling out now that he was here and he was saying he bought a house. “You’re not someone who settles down! You’re someone who travels around and who doesn’t have any down time! And because if you bought a house that means you think something is going to happen and it can’t because you’re- you have races to go to. And you train all the time, and you have people who follow you around like a pack of rabid wolves trying to get the lowdown on what kind of coffee you drink in the morning so they can write some weird article about it. Because you’ll get bored here. You’ll get bored of me. And I’m not going to be the reason you miss out on things and opportunities because you love racing and you’ll resent me, and then you’ll leave and I can’t- I can’t do that again! We knew one another for a few days. You can’t just- you can’t do this!”

Monty closed his mouth that had become ajar over the course of her big fat rant, wanting to interrupt her but having no way in until she had finished. But by then he needed to regroup, so his mouth shut and he breathed in deeply. She shrank as he came forward, watching as he tentatively reached out to take her hands.

“Okay, um,” he said. “Look, I get it. I do. And I’ve thought about this. It’s all I’ve been thinking about actually, since you hung up on me. Which, ow, by the way.”

She winced, “Sorry.”

“I know it’s a lot. Believe me, buying property in another country was a big headache, but I couldn’t not do it. I don’t know what happened to me here. You’re right, it was only a few days, but I met my best friend here, some really great people, and you,” he said. “I’m not going to stop racing, but I don’t want to burn out while I’m still in my rookie days. So, I bought this house to have a place to call home. Somewhere I can come back to and have some peace and quiet. You do know there’s such a thing as an off season, right?”

Bessie made a face, sheepish, before ducking her head. Monty chuckled. He released a hold of one of her hands to touch her chin, gently lifting her head up to meet his gaze.

“You’re serious about this?” she asked.

“I am,” he replied. “So, now that that’s settled. Would you wanna go on a date with me?”

Bessie groaned and squeezed her eyes shut against her embarrassment for how brazen he was, pulling away from him, but only far enough away that both of their arms were stretched, hands holding one another, and then she reeled herself back in. Bessie peaked one eye open, “Yeah, alright.”

“Good,” he said, grinning something beautiful. She sighed, taking another step toward him. “And for the record, Bess, I’d never get bored of you.”

Epilogue:

“Bessie,” came Monty’s voice from the other room. She hummed in response, standing in front of the stove, watching the soup simmer. “Bessie! Bessie get in here!”

She dropped the spoon she’d been holding and ran, panic immediately filling her up to the brim at the sound of his insistence. She stopped herself on the back of the couch, “What? What-?”

“Look!” he said, arms opened and eyes trained in front of him. Bessie turned her attention that way, watching as Cruz was stood with her little hands bracing herself against the couch. Her eyes were focused on her dad, mouth in a determined line. He flapped his fingers, “Come on, Cruz, I know you want to. Come over here.”

Bessie didn’t move or say anything, not wanting to break the moment with it.

Cruz turned herself, movements clumsy. She had one hand against the sofa seat now, fingers digging in to the fabric. One of her feet stuck out in front of her. Then the other one. She let got of the sofa and tilted a little to far forward, but she caught herself. Her arms were held out from her, reaching out toward Monty. He didn’t say anything, just watched as she crossed the short distance, basically carried by the momentum of her weight, until he caught her in his hands before she could face plant into the carpet.

He hoisted her above his head, laughing, and then lowered her until their noses were touching. Cruz giggled with delight. “I knew you could do it!”

Bessie rounded the couch to join. Monty let Cruz down to sit on the floor between them so Bessie could dote on her, too.

“What a chip off the block, eh?” he said, rubbing the little girl’s back. “I’ll have her ready to get on the track in no time.”

“Okay, calm down,” Bessie shook her head. “She’s not even a year yet!”

“Gotta start early, babe!”

She rolled her eyes, putting her palm against his cheek and gently pushing him away from her. Bessie stood, going back to make sure the soup wasn’t boiling over. From in the kitchen she could hear him talking to their daughter in a hushed tone, “Don’t listen to her, kiddo. You’ll be the best one out there. Cruz Ramirez-McQueen has won the Piston Cup! And the crowd goes wild, aahhh! Aaahh!”

Bessie laughed quietly to herself.

#swynwrimo #this was supposed to be short. got too invested!!!

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