NationStates Jolt Archive

NAIS Exhibit, Levle 1

The needed lights would be back and installed within thirty minutes, as the plush hotel accomodations the Top Gear heavies and their crews had been put up in were at the Tres D' Or. And the concierge having been apprised by a quick phone call would have porters from the hotel deliver the lights immediately.

"Any more questions?"

"Yeah did you know the furror over your upcoming challenge race has crashed three different websites forums?" The askeer was a tall scruffy looking journalist out of Cats Keep. "What have ya got that makes you think you're going to win? Or in other words show me the beef!" Those around him kinda chuckled at his words.

All eyes turned towards the gleaming gold Skyline that shown under the specially done lighting. Some kinda jumped at turned to look at where what really did sound like gun fire had come from. NAIS and Psychosis were not that far apart and the report had echoed and indeed amplified no little bit.

The cheering carried clearly as did Ryan Fortier's shout of "Thats how a fast car sounds!"

The Keepian journalsit looked back at Harlan and drawled "Well? Going to show us?"

Verona Exhibit, Level 2

"If you would be able to start the car please miss."


Chantal turned the key and was pleased at the quiteness of the powerful engine. Once Jason had closed the door - she'd set it for automatic clutching system- at the cue from the simulation put the Portia in gear. Chantal'd been driving her Dominator for a few months now and found the Portia a much more comfortable drive. The seat hugged her much more comfortably.

Charli brightened inwardly as the Cats Keep newsie asked his questions, his nearly impertinent tone makeing her grin slightly. Maybe she'd get the information Ryan wanted without ever having to personally interact with Harlan. But she let little other that semi interest show on her face as she watched the action. Ryans little revo splosion had had her starting ever so slightly, but she was pleased by the sounds of a happy crowd coming from the Psychosis exhibit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the 'perfect expo tourist' looked over Red Moon Customs cars, a tall man watched disretely from the front of the Tanaaran Royal Vehicles exhibit. He smiled slightly, though he'd never seen that face before. His heart knew who it ws but he wsn't going to infringe upon her rare free time. If she wanted to spend some of it with him she would. But he wouldn't blame her if she didn't. The last couple of years hadn't been easy on either of them.

Aeris had lead the group that had rescued him from Hell, and he wasn't sure if she'd ever realize how much her unreserved love for him had helped during the long bleak months of pain filled reconstruction and rehabilitation of his devestated body. The years of unrelieved torture - the Hell continuium's time flowed differently and he'd been its denizens unloving and endlessly inventive hands for over five years by their time - he had undergone had hurt his mind - for they had stripped him of all his hard learned mental defenses and all but erradicated his core personality, altering it to something that in no way resembled human. It had taken all of her Angelic powers to restore any of him, and he still woke often disoriented and dangerous.

They had done as bad to his body- twisting his very DNA into a horror equally unrecogniseable. And were it not for the Tanran Empire's fantastic medical technology, he'd not have survived. Once they'd undoine the genetic damage, they ultimately had to regrow over eighty percent of his body. While he was sound now, his new body was fit and atheletic, he would never again stand the shock of combat as a Cadreman, for this body could not tolerate augumentation. Momentarily he grieved for what he had lost, but thanked the Divine for what he had not, namely the woman he loved with all his heart and soul. He watched her inspect the cars there and then he had to turn away to answer a question.

Verona Exhibit, Level 2

"If you would be able to start the car please miss."


Chantal turned the key and was pleased at the quiteness of the powerful engine. Once Jason had closed the door - she'd set it for automatic clutching system- at the cue from the simulation put the Portia in gear. Chantal'd been driving her Dominator for a few months now and found the Portia a much more comfortable drive. The seat hugged her much more comfortably.

The simulator was reasonably realistic appart from the fact that it was a never-ending long straight road, perfect for "letting the car rip".

Different styles of terrain would pass by but not what the road would remain perfectly straight and level. Chantal was as free as she liked to open up the throttle, whether to have a nice relaxing drive through the country side or whether to truely test out the capabilities of the car.

Red Moon Customs

"Most welcome, but no Pettimore begs for mercy. It's our family stubborness, just like cream it rises to the top" She shook her head but there was no sting in her voice.

Rowan wasn't in heels and so stood only five foot six in her sketcher's but she wore the tight fitting low slung jeans and the cropped tee well. She hadn't felt like dressing up. She hadn't gotten enough sleep for that.

"I don't mean to be rude, but did you bring this for all of us or just specific people in mind?"

Rowan (http://www.atddm.com/rowan.jpg) flashed him a dimple revealing smile and handed him one of the bags. "No they aren't for any one specifically. I figured ya'll be hungry and these Bazel burgers smelled so good that I figured if I couldn'a resist; y'all couldn't either. After all its food and your male" She teased. "There's a variety of sodas and the beers are Shiner Blonde and Shiner Hefeweizen, outta a little Texas brewery that makes beer the old way- small batches and lots of tlc."

Lance gave a slim smile as she teased them, and then informed them of their drink options. Opening the cooler, he looked at the beers, choosing the Hefeweizen after a moment of thought. As he opened it, he listened to his son speaking.

"Hey, these are pretty good!" he declared, chewing his food with his mouth open. Lance just shook his head and discreetly caught his son's attention with his hand making a closing motion. It was not lost on him, and promptly, he shut up and finished eating.

Lance redirected Rowan's attention, "I'm glad to hear that Willow's coming along well enough. If she's got any of the personality you've got, I don't think it'll be long before she's walking out of the hospital, either with, or without her doctor's blessing."

__________________________

The woman with long, wavy blonde hair sensed someone watching her, and knew who it was instantly. In the days following the escape from Hell, she had been required to exert much of her abilities in order to save what little sanity he had left and had buried deep inside. She had to traverse the mind of the man she loved, and she had seen the horrors constantly replayed over and over in his mind. Great pity, and love had flowed from her, and little by little, nightmare by nightmare, they had been neutralized and forgotten. However, there were some things she had not been able to neutralize. Such things only exemplified the sheer horror of unrelenting destructive ill willpower. He would never know just how she had managed to save him, for that was a secret she would keep to herself. The price she paid had been terribly taxing, but it was a price she would have taken again if she were required.

Moving her way past Lance, she complimented his work, and indicated quickly that she would be keeping an eye on his upcoming productions. Then, she was gone from sight, having slipped through the crowds like only her kind could.

A gentle brush of a hand on the man's wrist, and then she was gone again. He would turn, and find no one, but he would look around of course.

By the elevators, she stood patiently, her attention on a flower display in between two of the elevators. She turned for moment, waiting just long enough for him to see her come-hither look, then pushed the button to call the elevator. She entered the car and stepped to the left while turning about.

Verona exhibit Level 2

While Chantal was a not much better than an average driver, skill wise, she adored speed, and thus mashed down on the gas pedal, taking the Portia to the cars limits quickly. She looked over at Jason and gave him a wide smile. "But Jason you'll have to show me later if it can handle other than a straight- away." She kept her voice down so that it carried just to him. Chantal then raised it so that the watching crowd could hear what she said next

"It shifts like a dream, and is very responsive! This will be a car that can handle more than just boring in city stop and start. I wouldn't mind driving this for a multi hour trip." And in Tanaara that was a norm seeing how large the country was.

The car seemed to realise the peddle was going down to the metal and had the gear shifting put into an "Automatic racing" mode, more sedate forms of driving the gears would be shifting differently.

As the speedometer turned to the left it quickly approached the "max" of 220km/hr however with the adaptive speedometer it changed to reflect the current speed, 240., It displayed 260 and 280, but 240 was where the speed generally hovered around.

"we'll we're now coming up a city. And the speed limit comes into effect." On the computer simulator a 100km/hr sign poped up. It was a white sign black numbers in a red circle. Standard Bazalonian signs

The Speedometer changes the so called needle is off the charts 180 is the maximum given, "Now, we don't want to break the law so if, you mind slowing down to the speed limit."

Harlan all but rolled his eyes at the Keepian reporter. He shrugged and looked at May, who returned the gesture.

"Well," Harlan started, "I know that most of the time, tossing up a back fire, from an engine obviously running so rich its just robbing any form of power throughout the band, is not considered 'showing us what you have'. I can make any one of these cars pop off like that with little work, just over rich the fuel system. If thats what you consider impressive, I'm sure one of our comedy shows would enjoy featuring what vehicles you have access to."

James chuckled as well. "Or you could just put a spark plug in the tail pipe."

Harlan just shrugged. "If you want, I'll pop the hood of the Skyline. No big deal for me. Though, I doubt you'll be able to see what you think you should. Mr. Fortier may have you all convinced that shiny things mean its faster. However, people who drive real fast cars thing otherwise."

David almost reluctantly strolled away from the Le Mans car, and popped open the hood on the R34. Save for a simple, carbon fiber air box, it looked bone stock.

"There, happy?"

Rob turned over the handling of the Tasnaaran Royal Vehicles over to a relief docent in record time and with long strides just managed to catch the elevator. Once the doors closed fully he swept her up in his arms.

"Bright day to you Beautiful" He murmured while sweeping her up in his arms and kissing her gently. "Now lets see, what do I owe you so far for dating me?

Very few people realized it but Rob earned no salary as Heir, and when he became king it would be the what his mother recieved, three hundred and sixty five aurics a year. His salary in the Tanaaran military was adequate but not munificent, and that his waht he used for living expenses, though those weren't great, as the Tanaaran militray much like the Imitoran military provided nearly every thing he needed at no charge. His wealth had come from the canny, carefull investing of his twenty years in the Tanaran Cadre. They did pay very well, and even though in this reality he had been serving with them less than the space of a year, time flowed differently in Shadow and Hell. His enlistment totaled thirty years between then, and his retirement from the Cadre has been as much mandatory as medical. So that untouched salary and many bonuses had been managed into a tidy fortune. He had the fifty million to wager, but not as comfortably as some.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"There, happy?"

Charli moved around while David Harlans attention was on the reporter who didn't seem phased by Harlan's scorn.

"Oh absolutely. I think the beef is over at the Psychosis stable" In fact the reporter looked quite happy, and just gave the Imitoran a cheeky grin.
Charli did not know it, nor did Harlan, but the Keepian had just throroughly read his mind, scanning everything that the Imitoran was activelythinking about. Passive surface scans could only be detected by another psionic. Once that was done he faded back into the mass of reporters who took full advantage to start asking Harlan questions about other aspects of his display. Though many did focus on the upcoming duel of speed.

Charli wondered if Harlan had a ringer on the display, and concluded that he must have. From her vantage point she couldn't see anything unusual about or around the engine, nor, since he hadn't opnened the door see inside enough to note if there was any tell tales within. She groaned inwardly. She'd have to stick around and try and question Harlan. Something she would take no pleasure doing. But Ryan had asked her to get the information and she would do her best. She waited for the press of reporters to east, but they didn't seem to be and she drifted over to the Italian restraunt to linger over a cup of coffee, sitting in the 'outdoor' patio and watching the activities about NAIS and the exhibits closest to them. That did not include Psychosis thought.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'm glad to hear that Willow's coming along well enough. If she's got any of the personality you've got, I don't think it'll be long before she's walking out of the hospital, either with, or without her doctor's blessing

"Oh she's got plenty of her own. It comes with having been a Colonel in the Airfarce." Rowan grinned at Lance.

Once Josh had finished the hearty burger and the fries, she looked at Lance and grinned once more "Old man, I'm stealing Josh here for a few hours."

She looked over at Josh and explained. "We're doing a cook out tonight and I'd like a man opinion of the steaks and how I look in a new swimsuit. I apparently forgot to pack mine and the surf out there is just too pretty to pass up." She winked at him and pretended to not watch his reaction. Yeah, she was older than he was, but she figured not enough to matter.

[QUOTE=Tanaara;13214253]
"Bright day to you Beautiful" He murmured while sweeping her up in his arms and kissing her gently. "Now lets see, what do I owe you so far for dating me?"

Allowing herself to be swept into his arms, she returned the kiss as she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on. She giggled softly as he asked his question. Her eyes met his, and he watched as she willed her physical appearance to return to the Aeris he knew. Auburn hair replaced the blonde hair, and her ears beneath the hair grew more pointed, but not terribly noticeably. She smiled softly, turning her head to nestle against his chest and listen to his heartbeat for a few moments. She murmured, "Just you, dear."

She then leaned over to look around him, a hand snaking past him to push one of the buttons for the floor she wanted. She had arranged a room not too conspicious, but not downright shoddy either, to be reserved in her name alias, Teresa Buonarroti. Together they stood there, waiting patiently for the elevator to rise to the floor, she in his strong embrace, and he with his head resting gently atop hers.

The doors opened, and she pulled away, holding onto his hand with one of hers. Her free hand fished a keycard from a hidden pocket, and within two minutes, they were passing the threshold.

Inside the room, she released his hand and ran her hands through her hair several times to straighten it out. She smiled at him as she did so, and moved to a balcony. Seven floors below them, the expo bustled with high energy, and the sound of various cars revving and idling drifted up to them. She turned inside once more, locking the sounds out and made her way to where Rob had remained standing watching her. She blushed slightly, "You all right?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Once Josh had finished the hearty burger and the fries, she looked at Lance and grinned once more "Old man, I'm stealing Josh here for a few hours."

She looked over at Josh and explained. "We're doing a cook out tonight and I'd like a man's opinion of the steaks and how I look in a new swimsuit. I apparently forgot to pack mine and the surf out there is just too pretty to pass up." She winked at him and pretended to not watch his reaction. Yeah, she was older than he was, but she figured not enough to matter."

Lance just chuckled as Josh's face clearly betrayed his thoughts. Josh wiped his hands on a napkin, tossing it into a nearby trashcan, and looked over at his father and his friend with the best smug look he could conjure. His friend looked dismayed, envious even, but he was polite enough to know to not barge in and demand his desire to go as well. He instead returned the smile to Josh and turned his attention to a teenager who was carelessly touching anything and everything he could about one of the cars. He approached him, a frown on his face.

Lance just gave Rowan a knowing look, laughing to himself as Josh appeared ready to go like a greyhound out the gate. To Rowan, he replied, "Keep him in line..." he looked now to Josh, "bastard that he is." He grinned as Josh glared momentarily before quickly adopting the smile he had a moment ago, just as Rowan looked at him again.

It had been a short time later when the Top Gear commotion had passed. Harlan and Doc's interview had gone off without a hitch, however, the news and one of their usual stunts cut into Ryan's interview, and it would have to be done at a later time. It didn't bother Ryan much, he had other things he needed to handle, and he could wait another month or so for the interview.

Doc and Tim handled customers, and Ryan could be spotted shaking a few hands and handing out business cards. Little time was spent in total focus on the Supra, and more so on the over all services that Psychosis offered.
___

Rays paid close attention to the Balzonian offering. The car had its impressive points, but it was still to pedestrian for him. Though he could see it having a few buyers in Imitora.

He quickly found a representative for the car as Chantal continued her test drive, and began to pester him with questions.

"What are the motor options? Can I get it with a Do It Yourself cog swapper? Drive train options? What is the recommended fuel type? Can it run boost? What about other after market support? Is the automatic still stuck with a torque converter, or is it a SMG or DSG unit?"

One of the many import firms in Imitora was owned by Rays, and while it served more as a front than anything, he could still make a few bucks on the legit side of the operation.
___

Harlan answered a few of the questions concerning his race with Ryan, but focused mostly on the Le Mans car. It was the main point of his display, the legitimate side of racing. However, he was glad when the crowd began to disperse, and could focus more on the sales side of things.

He had a number of customers focusing on his Ferrari offerings, and as the Vice President of the Imitoran Ferrari Club, he was more than happy to discuss what they had to offer.
___

Hoot stepped out of the cab, paid, and made his way into the hospital. Like most Imitoran warriors, he was not a fan of hospitals. They forced him to admit his mortality, something Imitorans didn't do regularly. However, he had to be here for now, and could make it to the show later. He had plenty of assistants back at the display informing potential buyers on what New Owl actually offered.

He made his way to Willow's room, and slipped in, just at first to take a look. "How ya doing?" he asked, not expecting a response.

"You all right?"

How Aeris had found out that there were a number of hotel suites tucked discretely away at the airport concourse itself, Rob had no idea. They weren't advertised, the Omni Air Hotel wasn't even officially open or listed s being IN the concourse. But he didn't really care. He just shook his head and smiled at her.

Rob wrapped his arms about her, his heart and soul content "I am suddenly perfect, and my life all but complete now that you are here."

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to one of the comfortable chairs and sat with her in his lap. They frequently didn't see one another save in passing for days- both had demanding job that required long hours. "So love, tell me, are you enjoying the Expo?" He nuzzeled her hair, gently inhaling her unique scent. He relished these often too rare quiet times together, when they could sit and just talk about anything and everything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Charli waited until many of the reporters had drifted away to watch the Top Gear interview of Doc. Charli realized now that she had made an error in thinking the main interview would be Harlan. He'd been interviewed alright about the Lemans car, but it wasn't going to be the signature centerpiece. That it was Ryan and Psychosis made her happy, but she then realized that that wasn’t going to happen. With a heavy heart and a very real disinterest she made her way over the NAIS exhibit.. she made her way over to where Harlan was watching the last of the verbose customers leave – those that were left were just looking, not asking.
"'Scuse me, Mr. Harlan. I'm not a reporter but I do have a question for you. I'm on the net a lot, and know some stuff about cars from being drafted by my brother. That Skyline is supposed to be “hot to trot” according to your boosters on line, but that engine doesn't look anything like what my brother’s did after he got it finished. So what makes you and your people so certain you’re going to win? I got a look at the Supra, and it looks a lot like my brothers did.” Charli named off some of the obvious upgrades to the Supra, and waited for Harlan to answer as she took a close look at the Skyline, being careful not to touch. She noted the standard two turbos all but hidden in the engine compartment, and inside she noted the diagnostic reader but nothing really out of the ordinary. She began to seriously go with her first thought, Harlan had a ringer.

How Aeris had found out that there were a number of hotel suites tucked discretely away at the airport concourse itself, Rob had no idea. They weren't advertised, the Omni Air Hotel wasn't even officially open or listed s being IN the concourse. But he didn't really care. He just shook his head and smiled at her.

Rob wrapped his arms about her, his heart and soul content "I am suddenly perfect, and my life all but complete now that you are here."

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to one of the comfortable chairs and sat with her in his lap. They frequently didn't see one another save in passing for days- both had demanding job that required long hours. "So love, tell me, are you enjoying the Expo?" He nuzzeled her hair, gently inhaling her unique scent. He relished these often too rare quiet times together, when they could sit and just talk about anything and everything.

Aeris sighed contentedly as Rob held her close. She had missed his touch, having not seen him in almost six months now. She tilted her head slightly, letting more of her hair fall against his face as he inhaled softly. She loved how his arms held her tight, yet ever so gently.

"The expo is nice. It's a treat to see what different people are coming up with. I did pass the Imitoran display earlier, and it's the same as always. Their cars are top of the line, fast and furious...and their owners full of themselves."

She scoffed slightly at this, but soon added in, "However, they're good people, and good friends and allies."

She sat up a little bit, turning herself until she faced him more. "However, I found out you were here, and well...my schedule cleared up." She gave him a mischievous look and equally mischievous sly smile.

"How ya doing?"

Did anyone get the name of the mountain that flew into me?" Willows voice was faint and rusty sounding - her throat was raw from the tubes that had been down it.

Willow turned her head slowly. She was on a self controlled morphine driop but she was using it spareingly, perhaps too spareingly - she ached all over and had no memory of anything after the plane landed at the Military Airfield. Lance Freeman, and the race, was temporarily at least, gone from her memory.

"I'm mad at you...I think" She tried to glare at Hoot but with one eye hidden behind massive black and blueing she knew it probably didn't take. "You don't write , you don't call, not even a card at Christmas."

Then her fasle humor drained away, and she asked him with real apprehension. "They say some people died, that a plane dropped an engine on us. It...It wasn't my fault? I didn't lose control or something?" Her tone and the look in her eyes begged for reassurance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Keep him in line...bastard that he is."

Rowan gave Lance an amused look, her bright eyes twinkling. "I don't care about his legal standing. He's in good company. Come on Josh, but don't trip over your tongue " She said with a straight face "At either the girls or the cars"

Seeing the well hidden but still slightly noticible dismay on Jason's face she wanted to reassure him, but she wasn't quite sure how. She'd invite him out tomorrow. She wanted to get to know both of them, but having them around her together might lead to rivalry. Better to get to know them one on one and then decided if she wanted to spend time with either of them. Then it came to her. Rowan waited until he dealt with the touchy teen and the walked over to him. "Jason, I don't think I could handle both of you at once. But will you take a raincheck for tomorrow?"

Not waiting for his response, but she hoped he could tell it wan't a tease, she scooped up her purse. Rowan fished for her keys as they headed off to where one of the Pettimore cars was parked. "Here you get to drive, I'm going to enjoy the view!" She had the location of a well recommended food market programmed into her PDA, but she wanted to find a bathing suit first and the hottest boutique around was where she intended to head.

Rays paid close attention to the Balzonian offering. The car had its impressive points, but it was still to pedestrian for him. Though he could see it having a few buyers in Imitora.

He quickly found a representative for the car as Chantal continued her test drive, and began to pester him with questions.

"What are the motor options? Can I get it with a Do It Yourself cog swapper? Drive train options? What is the recommended fuel type? Can it run boost? What about other after market support? Is the automatic still stuck with a torque converter, or is it a SMG or DSG unit?"

One of the many import firms in Imitora was owned by Rays, and while it served more as a front than anything, he could still make a few bucks on the legit side of the operation.

The Verona representative on the floor slightly smiled at the man who obviously knew alot about cars.

"The Verona Portia is still in the final design stages, what we have on display is the concept version that proves some of the new features and initiatives that will be going into the production models. Our aim with the Portia is to provide a very much personalised driving experience, and as such there will be a wide range of options both in terms of the engine and after-market add-ons. As to what exactly will be available is still being determined and customer input would be very much welcomed. On the precipice between a car that adapts itself to you as well as you personallising the car. The recommended fuel will be the standard fuel blend used in Bazalonia an unleaded fuel with a 94 Octane rating, the after market support is still in consideration and will depend on the tests that we will perform on the final models, however it should be better than our normal as one of the things that our engineers are focusing on is reliability, and I believe the Portia will use a Direct-Shift Gearbox."

Despite the marketing speel interwoven in the reply and the fact that the final design of the Portia was still being determined, it was a concept car after all. It was clear that the information was drilled into him before the unvealing.

Verona Exhibit Level 2

"Now, we don't want to break the law so if, you mind slowing down to the speed limit."

Chantal gave Jason a smile and let up on the gas pedal, letting the speed drop down to the level required. She was glad that save on a few - a very few - roads Tanaara had 'suggestions' not limits.

As she looked over at Jason she caught sight of Rays peppering an associate with question. As quickly as was realistic she braked the Portia and thanked jason in a voice that carried to the onlookers and exited the Protia. She complimented the smooth handling and and responsiveness of the car for the crowds benefit. Then she tucked her arm though Jason's elbow and under the pretense of having his assist her off of the platform the Portia sat on advised him about Rays "He's one of the Psychosis's owners henchmen. I think he's part of the Yakusa. Becareful of him" Chantal whispered in his ear and was careful not to stare at the Imitoran.

"However, I found out you were here, and well...my schedule cleared up

He agreed, as irritating as Imitorans could be, they were good allies, good friends. Then he smiled at the look on her face and laid a playful kiss exactly on the tip of her adorable nose.

"I'm glad it did. Aeris, though we have to stop meeting like this. people will say we're not serious about one another... We are aren't we?" He asked with a palintiveness that was only half joking.

"I'm not the best husband material around, but what's say we give it a try. Aeris, please... marry me." He was utterly serious as he gazed into her lovely eyes.

He knew he wasn't good husband material. Even now the many hats he wore made for eighteen hour plus days, and took him travelling hither and yon. He often ended up at unscheduled meetings in the middle of the night, to say nothing of the nightmares that often wrecked his sleep. He never spoke of the phantom pains that racked him, the body's primitive rememberance of what had been done to him, and made it all he could do not to show it outwards.

He held his breath as he waited for her answer. He knew that there would have to be so many things to work out, so many accomodations each of them would have to make, but he thought they could make it work, could have a good marriage, a happy -if not entirely stress free- blending of theri two lives. But those were thoughts for later. Right now he was concentrating solely on her saying "yes"

Rays paused for a thoughtful moment, and then with just a touch of flair snapped a business card out of his jacket.

"Rays Garrett. I run Juiced Imports. Decent sized Import and Export firm, deal mostly with the more exotic end of our two and four wheel desires. Aprilla, MV Agusta, Ferrari, Lamborghini, mostly Italian across the board. I think we may have a market for a vehicle like the Portia in Imitora. Once it gets past the concept stage, give me a call."

On the card was the day phone, the secondary line, the fax, and his email for the Import Export firm. "We can work something out."

With that, he slipped off into the crowd, off to fry some bigger fish. That bigger fish being a casual lunch with Piero. It was nothing more than a friendly get together, but of course business would most likely come up. It always did.
___

Harlan took good stock of Charli. While he didn't know off hand who she was, she gave off a familiar vibe, a feeling. He could tell he knew her from somewhere, but just couldn't place it.

Harlan looked back at the seemingly stock engine bay of the Skyline, and then smiled back at Charli.

"Oh, Mr. Fortier would have you convinced its all about shiny parts and flashy loud things. But in reality, its all much much more simple."

He observed as Charli all but stuck her head into the engine bay. She would notice the turbos, snug in their resting spots as they should be, a heat shield for the down pipe, and little much else.

"The key is right here," he said, tapping the stock ECU cover. "Its smart tuning that keeps these cars going fast. You can take anything you'd like from big turbos to stroker kits to nitrous, but at the end of the day, all that matters is how the ECU handles it all."

Charli let herself look blank for a long second, then recognition dawned over her face "Oh that thing. When my brother got his laptop stolen all the stuff on it was wiped. He swore vilely for weeks"

She furrowed her brow slightly "Okay lets see, it's used for variable cam timing, for one, and low pressure adjuster?" She was careful to sound like she was dredging up old memories. She just hoped she was being very convincing.

She laughed and blushed slightly "Sorry driving fast is fun, but I'm not too mechanically inclined. She pulled her hair back rather than let it hang in her face as she looked in the engine bay once more. "Thats a lot of engine to snuggle in there but my brother's 350z is even more confusing."

She stood up and took a few steps back. Getting a good, long, over all look at the Skyline. Then she approached the drivers side window and cupped her hands around her eyes, blocking hte glare of lights - but careful not to touch the vehicle.

"Among other things, yes," Harlan responded. "And your brother is in a 350?" he shrugged. "Those VQ monstrosities are all over Imitora. Hardly deserves the image of a Z car. They got rid of the smooth and flowing nature of the engine, and just shoved the biggest V6 they could find in there. At least he has boost on it."

There was no love lost for Harlan on the VQ35DE motor. He felt it lacked the refined, purposeful nature of the previous Z cars, and instead was just a drag racer for the Fast and Furious crowd.

"Wont find much in there," he said as she moved towards the window. "Just the basic monitoring equipment for the tune, and a boost controller."

Charli half shrugged and again stepped back "Just wondering if you'd stripped the interior. His first "customed"...Her fingers made quote marks around the word "...car was a Z-31 that he had a custom installed RB25DET 2.5 Liter, Twin Cam, Turbo engine taken from a R33 Skyline. He was stationed at Yokota Air Base." She snorted "Of course he lost it in a race before I ever got to see it in person."

Charli looked a little embarrassed "Thats kinda why I wanted to see your Skyline's motor. He spent tons on that car and just loved it, least ways according to all the letter and phone calls. He swore it was unbeatable." She looked at the Skyline "This is a nice looking car though. That show wax costs a fortune doesn't it? He always bitches about how much for how little"

"Here you get to drive, I'm going to enjoy the view!"

Josh caught the keys tossed to him, and he keyed the button to unlock the doors. Slipping behind the wheel, he watched as she got in, and then suddenly realized his mistake. He hadn't opened the door for her. Damn it. he cursed himself, putting the key into the ignition and turning it.

He reversed out of the parking spot, and shifted into gear, moving along soon enough.

_______________________________


"I'm not the best husband material around, but what's say we give it a try. Aeris, please... marry me." He was utterly serious as he gazed into her lovely eyes.

Aeris thought she was imagining things when he slipped that question in, but the look on his face confirmed for her that he had actually said it. He had actually put himself out on a limb, on a hope and a dream. She smiled broadly, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer for a passionate kiss. It held for several long moments before she pulled back and looked him in the eyes again. She spoke, "Quite the memorable location," she gave him a smirk, "...but I suppose it matters little to the affairs of the heart."

She nodded softly, her voice clear to his ears, "Yes..."

He lost himself in the kiss, aware of almost nothing else but her. His heart started to drop as she spoke of the location...

"Yes..."

Robert was on his feet, with her still securely cradled in his arms, in the blink of an eye and spinning around as he kissed her exuberantly. "Aeris I can't promise to always make you happy, but I will promise to try."

Then he sat her down on the edge of the bed and dug in his blazers inner posket for a small envelope, ever so slight carry worn, and went to one knee to hand it to her. I've carried this for some seven months now, every day moved from blazer to sport coat to formal jacket and back again."

The small envelope wasn't flat, it bulged suspiciously. When Aeris opened it a large lump of raw gold, several rough stones, a note card and a piece of some sort of legal paper slid out.

Verona Exhibit Level 2

"Now, we don't want to break the law so if, you mind slowing down to the speed limit."

Chantal gave Jason a smile and let up on the gas pedal, letting the speed drop down to the level required. She was glad that save on a few - a very few - roads Tanaara had 'suggestions' not limits.

As she looked over at Jason she caught sight of Rays peppering an associate with question. As quickly as was realistic she braked the Portia and thanked jason in a voice that carried to the onlookers and exited the Protia. She complimented the smooth handling and and responsiveness of the car for the crowds benefit. Then she tucked her arm though Jason's elbow and under the pretense of having his assist her off of the platform the Portia sat on advised him about Rays "He's one of the Psychosis's owners henchmen. I think he's part of the Yakusa. Becareful of him" Chantal whispered in his ear and was careful not to stare at the Imitoran.

Jason took her hand, "Ladies and Gentlemen, would you please thank our lovely test-driver for this afternoon." A round of applause eminated from the crowd that thronged around, using the opportunity he whispered "I'll make sure I keep an eye on it."

As the applause died down "Thank you, but if you would be able to stay up here for just for a bit longer" Jason said to Chantal, loud enough so everyonewould be able to hear. "I need a second volunteer, do I have any takers?"

Rays paused for a thoughtful moment, and then with just a touch of flair snapped a business card out of his jacket.

"Rays Garrett. I run Juiced Imports. Decent sized Import and Export firm, deal mostly with the more exotic end of our two and four wheel desires. Aprilla, MV Agusta, Ferrari, Lamborghini, mostly Italian across the board. I think we may have a market for a vehicle like the Portia in Imitora. Once it gets past the concept stage, give me a call."

On the card was the day phone, the secondary line, the fax, and his email for the Import Export firm. "We can work something out."

With that, he slipped off into the crowd, off to fry some bigger fish. That bigger fish being a casual lunch with Piero. It was nothing more than a friendly get together, but of course business would most likely come up. It always did.


The representative smiled "Thank you Mr Garrett. I'll pass this on for you."

He lost himself in the kiss, aware of almost nothing else but her. His heart started to drop as she spoke of the location...

"Yes..."

Robert was on his feet, with her still securely cradled in his arms, in the blink of an eye and spinning around as he kissed her exuberantly. "Aeris I can't promise to always make you happy, but I will promise to try."

Then he sat her down on the edge of the bed and dug in his blazers inner posket for a small envelope, ever so slight carry worn, and went to one knee to hand it to her. I've carried this for some seven months now, every day moved from blazer to sport coat to formal jacket and back again."

The small envelope wasn't flat, it bulged suspiciously. When Aeris opened it a large lump of raw gold, several rough stones, a note card and a piece of some sort of legal paper slid out.

Picking up the items as they fell into his open hand, Aeris studied them, instantly recognizing the stones as precious stones, of extreme rarity even. Stones that were highly prized by her people. She looked up at Rob again, a slight surprise on her face, "These stones haven't been found for over three hundred years in any of the known mines...and yet you've got-" she held the blue stone up to his gaze, "-perhaps the largest one I've ever seen..." She had switched inadvertently to her business-like mind, and suddenly she stopped, looked at Rob and smiled warmly at him. Her hand lowered and she nodded.

"You've been holding back this long to ask me? Rob...I would've said yes seven months ago..." She laughed softly as she saw his expression, and caressed his cheek with her hand. Then, she picked up the parchment he had laid aside, reading the script with ease. The gold and stones had been certified by the highest qualified appraiser, and Aeris was sure the elf had tried to get the location out of Rob. Such was the affection of the elves for such rare materials. She read the note next, and was pleased to see an offer to craft the materials together into jewelry worthy of her status and beauty. She made a mental note to thank him for this.

She pulled him up now, wrapping her arms around his torso, kissing him again. She looked into his eyes, just wondering how she had fallen in love with him. The sacrifices they had already given each other was only the tip of the iceberg she realized. She hoped she would never have to reveal the rest of said iceberg...but for him, she'd do it without a doubt.

"Don't worry Josh , I already know your dad raised you in a garage." Rowan chuckled as she read Josh's expression perfectly.

"Here you go, directions to our first stop." She handed him a page with a map and written direction. It wasn't that far, on the mainland and north a bit to one of the finest swim wear boutiques about. Rowan had called ahead and they'd have a selection of things ready and waiting.

Relaxing in the seat as Josh proved that his dad had taught him a thing or two about driving she asked "So what's life like in a place where majick works and you have elves like out of Lord of the Rings?"

~~~~~

After they'd parted from the kiss Rob looked at Aeris seriously "Love, seven months ago I'd just been standing on my own for a month. I was in not shape to pick you up and hold you or even go on to one knee. Then less than a month later ...as you said we haven't seen one another in six of thsoe months. "

"I wanted to make sure to present you a husband- to- be with some semblance of the ability to dance with you at our wedding.
He turned the conversation to the gold and the gems, not wanting to dwell on the dificulties of his rehabilitation "The valley lies half in Tarlachia, and half in Tanaara. I panned the gold out of the small river that flowes through it as well as the gemstones. It's part of my wedding present to you."

Harlan kept a close eye on Charli. "Indeed. But its worth it."

He didn't comment on the supposed brother's car, but he knew well of the plethora of swaps available for Nissan products. He still couldn't shake the thought that he knew her, and if he did, he would damned sure find out who she was. He was positive beyond a doubt that he knew who she was, and he turned away briefly, watching his own mark question Ryan about his Supra.

Then it hit him.

"So, Miss Firewalker, anything else I can answer for you?"
___

Hoot chuckled at Willow's comment.

"I wanted to write, but you know the deal. Going to strange and amazing places, meeting knew and exotic people. Killing them. Just got swept back up in the game, had to help some friends set something up, things like that."

He looked down at her and smiled at her concern. "Don't worry, an engine fell off a plane, bounced off your car. Nothing you could have stopped."

"So, Miss Firewalker, anything else I can answer for you?"


Charli snorted,in semi unamusement, hiding her disappointment. Well she'd never claimed to be an actress. The 'brother' was one of Willow's friends from when she had been stationed in Japan at Kadena. Charli had met him later when he'd become a smoke jumper and gotten assigned to a crew working out of the base where she was Lead. She'd heard all the tales of his racing and sad loss.

"Nope, but then again you wouldn't tell me the truth if I asked, so why risk repairing your shabby reputation." She didn't raise her voice and there were very few people about to here them. Charli looked at David Harlan shaking her head slightly "You know the reason you bad mouth Robert Fortier at every chance you get is because you know deep down inside that he loved the game, that he was better than you. And you? You don't love anything but yourself and aren't fit to hold his coat. And that makes you less -not only less than Robert Fortier, but a hell a lot less than Ryan Fortier." The distain was clear on her voice and her eyes were dismissive.

But unseen in her hand was a ball of heat. If David Harlan laid a finger on her he'd end up ever so very dead. Dismissively she turned away. She didn't want to spend anymore time in his presence than she had to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Don't worry, an engine fell off a plane, bounced off your car. Nothing you could have stopped."

"They told me that but I wasn't sure they weren't joshin' me. Last thing I remember was the plane landing." She swallowed trying to keep tears from her eyes.

It was better to be a little angry maybe "But you know not having you there jus' threw our Friday night Poker games off something awefull, no one to lose so regularly." But her lips curved in a faint smile. "Sides if you had been ther you could kept the Outlaws from buying Rowan that half million dollar monstrosity." She hurt to much to even think of chuckling but the impulse was there.

"And I missed you a bit too. Felt strange flying without you hanging out the door shooting trolls."

Verona Exhibit

Thank you, but if you would be able to stay up here for just for a bit longer

"Why certainly." Chantal replied taking her cue from Jason. She gave the crowd one of her patented award winning smiles.

"I need a second volunteer, do I have any takers?"

Chantal stepped aside to let a twenty something with heavy glasses and a determined look jump up on the display stand with a loud "I volunteer!" His accent pegged him as British. He gave Chantal a goggle eyed look but she ignored him, moving aside a few steps so that she didn't block the crowds view of the car.

***********
Elsewhere, one of the Baronesses D' Racul's men of business was finalizing a deal for the purchase of a Bugatti Veyron Pur Sang. The Sultan might have number one, but she would have the last one made, number five.

"Don't worry Josh , I already know your dad raised you in a garage." Rowan chuckled as she read Josh's expression perfectly.

"Here you go, directions to our first stop." She handed him a page with a map and written direction. It wasn't that far, on the mainland and north a bit to one of the finest swim wear boutiques about. Rowan had called ahead and they'd have a selection of things ready and waiting.

Relaxing in the seat as Josh proved that his dad had taught him a thing or two about driving she asked "So what's life like in a place where majick works and you have elves like out of Lord of the Rings?"

~~~~~

After they'd parted from the kiss Rob looked at Aeris seriously "Love, seven months ago I'd just been standing on my own for a month. I was in not shape to pick you up and hold you or even go on to one knee. Then less than a month later ...as you said we haven't seen one another in six of those months. "

"I wanted to make sure to present you a husband- to- be with some semblance of the ability to dance with you at our wedding."

He turned the conversation to the gold and the gems, not wanting to dwell on the difficulties of his rehabilitation "The valley lies half in Tarlachia, and half in Tanaara. I panned the gold out of the small river that flowes through it as well as the gemstones. It's part of my wedding present to you."

Josh simply gave Rowan a cocked smile, "Life with magic and elves...not much different than usual. Tarlachians just have a unique way of life is all. However, our elves are a strange race to me. They make no sense. I mean, come on...every living thing on this earth should die eventually, but to live indefinitely? Smells off to me, if you ask me."

He maneuvered the car around another slow driver, gunning it as he came alongside him. He didn't bother to look over either. He was too interested in Rowan anyway. "However strange they are, they are useful for dealing with things humans don't normally deal with. Like the demons."

His eyes lit up as he looked over at her, "I gotta say though...those dragons that live in the mountains...they're incredible to see in person. Just...magnificent! I thought they were just stories until I saw them for the first time in the Dark War. After that point, I realized my error and have since come to believe other stories recited to children."

#####################

Aeris gave Robert a sly look, "You panned these yourself, and yet you could hardly walk?" She gave him a teasing look, "Why Robert, you're just Superman, aren't you?" She chuckled softly, looking again at the gems. They really were beautiful.

She gave him a soft smile, her heart full of happiness, and for once, she had completely repressed all of her usual million thoughts running through her mind, simply to enjoy this time with her lover. She walked over to a wall, laid her hand gently against its surface, pushing a perfectly unnoticeable panel of the wall aside to reveal a radio. She turned it on, spoke a quiet word, and instantly, soft music began to emit from the hidden speakers surrounding the room.

She turned to him. Her expression was soft, patient. Her smile alluring, and her eyes ablaze with the life she possessed. "Come," she cooed, "Dance with me."

"I think it would get boring, living forever. We have to walk on, to go through the doors, and experience other things. My cousin, Jonnie Lea, she's the Mountain's priestess, but her majick is slow, attuned to long term effects on living things." Rowan replied

After that point, I realized my error and have since come to believe other stories recited to children."

"When we decided to come to the Expo we looked the region up and got as much information on the countries here 'bouts as we could. The Dark War lasted a decade didn't it? And Demons? I think human evil is bad enough!" She shuddered, then turned her thoughts to dragons. "I think I'd be just awestruck to see a dragon."

Roawn took note of the way Joah handled the car and silently approved. "So, what are the nightclubs like in Tarlachia? Do they hire live acts often?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No dear, I'm not superman, not any more. I used a grav chair most of the time, did a huge amount of very voluable cursing, cried some and hated my life for a time." He said that with a degree of equamnity that surprized even himself. It had been a bad patch in the long, and mostly painful rehabilitation.

He was glad that Aeris hadn't seen him at the time. He put those thoughts aside as the music began to play.

Dance with me."

"Always and ever my love" He said softly as he crossed to where she stood and took her into his arms. He didn't have quite the fluidity he'd had at eighteen but he was better than he had been not that many months ago.

"Dance with me, I want to be your partner-Can't you see the music is just starting? Night is falling, and I am calling. Dance with me" He sang softly in a low voice, his lips kissing softly across her cheek and nose, finally claiming her lips.

He whirled her gently around the room, letting the music take them away. They danced for some time, flowing with the music and eventually reverent hands began sliding her clothes off to leave them puddled on the floor, a trail that led to the waiting bed...

Verona Exhibit

Thank you, but if you would be able to stay up here for just for a bit longer

"Why certainly." Chantal replied taking her cue from Jason. She gave the crowd one of her patented award winning smiles.

"I need a second volunteer, do I have any takers?"

Chantal stepped aside to let a twenty something with heavy glasses and a determined look jump up on the display stand with a loud "I volunteer!" His accent pegged him as British. He gave Chantal a goggle eyed look but she ignored him, moving aside a few steps so that she didn't block the crowds view of the car.


"Thank you, sir. If you would like to hop inside the car and make whatever changes you'd like to the seat, perhaps the radio, and ever else you can find inside. He's a key for you."

As the man entered the car the car seat and other items that the barroness might have changed would return to their factory default settings.

Harlan glanced over to the Psychosis display where his own mark was chatting up Ryan about the Supra. The DJ on the other side had chosen to mix some rock into the rap mix, and now the speakers around the Psychosis display blasted Avenged Sevenfold's Almost Easy.

"At least he has some taste in music," he commented off hand. He turned back to Charli, and just shook his head. "Next time your boyfriend decides to send you over here, make sure he sends someone who knows about cars. Since you totally seemed to just miss everything, its a built Nismo Z2 block bored out to a full three liters with twin HKS T67 turbos and juice. Lots of juice. Our last time out on the rollers saw 1200 at all four wheels."

He snapped a cell phone out of his pocket, checking what his little spy had picked up. "And it looks like Ryan is just continually falling short. Just a three liter block with an eighty millimeter spinner? C'mon, he can't be serious in bringing that out, can he?"
___

Hoot laughed. "Yeah, it was nice to have someone to talk to while shooting shit. And as for Rowan, well, there's no accounting for taste."

He grabbed a seat next to the bed, spun it, and dropped into it rather ungraciously. "At least everything went back to normal. Well, as normal as things tend to get."

Charli had known that Harlan would ignore what she had said about him. His ego wouldn't let him respond, it was better to ignore the truth than try and defend against it. She'd stopped and half turned back.

And it looks like Ryan is just continually falling short. Just a three liter block with an eighty millimeter spinner? C'mon, he can't be serious in bringing that out, can he?"

"He's dead serious" Charlie said firmly as she moved back over to the R33 and looked interestedly into the engine bay once again. Inwardly it galled her to not just give him the finger and a flip remark- she just knew that like most asshole Imitorans, Harlan would just think poorly of her for not acting like an asshole herself - but if she could get more information out of him it would help Ryan.. "Okay so you say have juice. You're either lieing or you've got it camoflauged." She inspected the engine and other components as closely as she could "Where?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"At least everything went back to normal. Well, as normal as things tend to get."

"For people like us there's normal?" Willow tried to joke, but she didn't want to laugh. "So been doing anything you can talk about? I've heard talk of a really hot place in Imitora, does customed BMW's..something 'bout an old Owl come home to roost"

"I think it would get boring, living forever. We have to walk on, to go through the doors, and experience other things. My cousin, Jonnie Lea, she's the Mountain's priestess, but her majick is slow, attuned to long term effects on living things." Rowan replied

After that point, I realized my error and have since come to believe other stories recited to children."

"When we decided to come to the Expo we looked the region up and got as much information on the countries here 'bouts as we could. The Dark War lasted a decade didn't it? And Demons? I think human evil is bad enough!" She shuddered, then turned her thoughts to dragons. "I think I'd be just awestruck to see a dragon."

Roawn took note of the way Josh handled the car and silently approved. "So, what are the nightclubs like in Tarlachia? Do they hire live acts often?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No dear, I'm not superman, not any more. I used a grav chair most of the time, did a huge amount of very voluable cursing, cried some and hated my life for a time." He said that with a degree of equamnity that surprized even himself. It had been a bad patch in the long, and mostly painful rehabilitation.

He was glad that Aeris hadn't seen him at the time. He put those thoughts aside as the music began to play.

Dance with me."

"Always and ever my love" He said softly as he crossed to where she stood and took her into his arms. He didn't have quite the fluidity he'd had at eighteen but he was better than he had been not that many months ago.

"Dance with me, I want to be your partner-Can't you see the music is just starting? Night is falling, and I am calling. Dance with me" He sang softly in a low voice, his lips kissing softly across her cheek and nose, finally claiming her lips.

He whirled her gently around the room, letting the music take them away. They danced for some time, flowing with the music and eventually reverent hands began sliding her clothes off to leave them puddled on the floor, a trail that led to the waiting bed...

Josh listened as Rowan chattered on, before finally returning to another question. To this, he replied, "Yeah, there's nightclubs around the country, but usually within the larger cities. They have a tendency to remain out of the smaller locales because of low business. A few are brazen enough to attempt though, but eventually they either dry up or move on. Live acts are common, but you'll find such to be more common in general public locations. The arts, in all forms, are favored, and it's a sure bet that at any of those locations, you'll find something you've not seen before. However, that's not my thing, to be honest. I prefer the mechanical oils over aesthetic oils."

He gave Rowan a grin as he pulled into the parking lot of their destination.

##################

The music had continued playing throughout their intimate time together, ranging from soft jazz to the latest songs and artists of various genres. Aeris had on occasion and with a flick of her finger, skipped a song or two in favor of something more aesthetically pleasing. Currently, there was a musical score that was playing softly, an ancient tongue intertwining words with notes, telling the story of the painting of the skies with the stars.

She looked up now at Rob, having settled against him with the sheets pulled up partway. His arm nestled her head, and his hand rested upon her side, gently atop her ribs. She returned her attention up to the ceiling, which had changed to look exactly like a night sky, and every bit appearing as real as the real thing. Constellations lit up slightly as the song named them one by one, a story of ancient lore, a story of passion and turmoil, of war, and peace.

"Rob...I want to tell you something." she said quietly, "As of three months ago, our deep space intelligence community has been showing a great interest in a galaxy called V838 Monoceros. I've ordered an investigation into the possibility of life-sustaining planets in the system, and so far, we've been getting some positive responses. However, we won't know for sure until we get an actual expedition set up and out there."

She held her hand out, and he watched as the specified system was pulled into closer view in the surreal vision upon the ceiling. It was almost as if they were in space itself. She brought the image to zoom a bit more, and now he could see a few planets captured by the deep space telescopes.

A distanced tap of her finger, and the planets in question were lit up, "These planets are in our interest."

She looked up at him now, "I'd like to send out an expedition, but I want your people in on this too. This galaxy has shown preliminary high levels of materials hard to find here on Earth, and even substances we cannot identify at this time. I'd like to pair Tanaaran intelligence and technology together with our own so we have the best range of everything relevant to work from."

She looked into his eyes now, "And if the expedition goes well, I'd like to visit the colonies and see for myself these new worlds. And...you're coming with me, whether you like it or not." A playful smile grew upon her face as she failed to contain it behind the serious look on her face.

Verona Enhibit

"Thank you, sir. If you would like to hop inside the car and make whatever changes you'd like to the seat, perhaps the radio, and ever else you can find inside. He's a key for you."

"Like Wow This is like comfy" The twentysomething gushed in an artificial California accent that drew a chuckle from the crowd as he took the key Jason offered him. He set about moving the seat and adjusting everything he could find, a look of intense concentration on his face.

Chantal had discretely rolled her eyes at the youth's antics, thinking that the crowd far more enjoyed seeing a good looking woman that some smelly tourist, but she just kept an appreciative smile on her face and pretended to look interested.

"I prefer the mechanical oils over aesthetic oils."

Rowan sighed inside, but kept a smile on her face as she exited the car. ""Ah well I was just curious"

She waited for him to get the dorr into the boutique which was filled with a dazzaling array of exotic and designer swimwear, all tastefully displayed.

A sale lady hurried up to them and Rowan advised her that she had called earlier.

"Oh yes Ms. Hickok, plese come this way. We have the body double holograph ready for you." The sales lady looked over at Josh and all but sniffed "Young man if you'll go sit over there" She waved to a pair of uncomfortable looking chairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And if the expedition goes well, I'd like to visit the colonies and see for myself these new worlds. And...you're coming with me, whether you like it or not."

Rob started to chuckle. "And here I was going to ask you if you'd like a really out of this world honeymoon. We just got given a bit of payback in the form of retired and converted Tanaaran BattleCruiser.So, by fortuitous chance, we have a suitable ship available." He tickled her ribs ever so gently, then pulled the covers up so she'd be warm and snuggled her to him.

"Gladly will I go with you, as by the time we get back, mom will be more than ready to give the throne up. She's ready now really, but she won't begrudge us a proper honeymoon.

Harlan gently slid in between Charli and the Skyline.

"Sorry, but you already took your look. To bad you couldn't spot it. Maybe you'll see it in action at the race."

Carefully as to not upset the detail, he lifted the hood up off the hood stand, and lowered it closed. With a gentle downward push, it clicked closed solidly. He gave it a quick rub with a cloth in his rear pocket, and just shrugged off Charli.

Moments later, another woman approached the display, and handed David a piece of paper.

"Three liter blocks, light internal work. HKS 272s, an HKS T77, spool juice and nothing more. Open exhaust, and as we heard earlier," the girl chuckled at Ryan's hard rev, "a painfully rich tune. Race interior, running on street tires instead of some nice grippy types. At least they are Bridgestones."

Harlan nodded, and looked back at his own Bridgestone track tires. "So he brought a knife to a gun fight. That set up can't possibly be making more than a grand at the wheels," he laughed.

"Nope," the girl said. "Last dyno run was putting about 1050 at the wheels, give or take."

Harlan nodded, then took one look back at Charli. "Tell him I said good luck."

"Tell him I said good luck."

Charli had hoped to get more, but when she didn't she was only minorly disappointed. So asshole here Can resist bragging. Damn! She hid a disgusted look and began to make her way out of the exhibit. Sher paused a second listining to the report on the Supra, then continued on out.

Once she was at the Psychosis display she sought out Ryan. "Sorry babe, but I didn't get much information. Harlan recognised me." She passed on to him what she had gotten though, ending with "He says it has juice, lots of juice, but that engine looks all but bone stock to me. He claims it's all in the ECU."

Verona Enhibit

"Thank you, sir. If you would like to hop inside the car and make whatever changes you'd like to the seat, perhaps the radio, and ever else you can find inside. He's a key for you."

"Like Wow This is like comfy" The twentysomething gushed in an artificial California accent that drew a chuckle from the crowd as he took the key Jason offered him. He set about moving the seat and adjusting everything he could find, a look of intense concentration on his face.

Chantal had discretely rolled her eyes at the youth's antics, thinking that the crowd far more enjoyed seeing a good looking woman that some smelly tourist, but she just kept an appreciative smile on her face and pretended to look interested.

As the man finished making the changes you could see the car seats, the mirror, the position of the steering wheel and many other little things.

"Okay, thank you, That should be sufficient. IF you would like to come out now I'd like to perform a basic demonstration.... Uh.. Miss, if I could borrow that key for a second."

"I prefer the mechanical oils over aesthetic oils."

Rowan sighed inside, but kept a smile on her face as she exited the car. ""Ah well I was just curious"

She waited for him to get the dorr into the boutique which was filled with a dazzaling array of exotic and designer swimwear, all tastefully displayed.

A sale lady hurried up to them and Rowan advised her that she had called earlier.

"Oh yes Ms. Hickok, plese come this way. We have the body double holograph ready for you." The sales lady looked over at Josh and all but sniffed "Young man if you'll go sit over there" She waved to a pair of uncomfortable looking chairs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"And if the expedition goes well, I'd like to visit the colonies and see for myself these new worlds. And...you're coming with me, whether you like it or not."

Rob started to chuckle. "And here I was going to ask you if you'd like a really out of this world honeymoon. We just got given a bit of payback in the form of retired and converted Tanaaran BattleCruiser.So, by fortuitous chance, we have a suitable ship available." He tickled her ribs ever so gently, then pulled the covers up so she'd be warm and snuggled her to him.

"Gladly will I go with you, as by the time we get back, mom will be more than ready to give the throne up. She's ready now really, but she won't begrudge us a proper honeymoon.

Josh grudgingly took a seat where he was directed, picking up a nearby magazine to flip through it. It was mostly a clothing magazine. Turning it over to view the cover, he shrugged a moment later, tossing the magazine back where it had been. He could hear the women talking amongst themselves, and honestly, he felt very out of place here. He looked longingly toward the door for a brief moment.

################

Aeris smiled as Rob informed her of the ships. She smiled again as he drew the sheets up further for her benefit. As she lay there, she had a thought. "Rob...let's choose one of those ships and make it our personal craft. A fortress-castle transport, with all the comforts of home built right into it."

She looked up to him to see his expression and hear his thoughts.

It wasn't that many minutes later that Roawan waltzed back out. "There the hard part is over. They'll have the hologram programmed in just a minute or two." She explained how the holographic body double worked. "It saves me trying on suit after suite. We can see how they look and I only try on the few that look the best on me. It'll be a lot quicker" She reassured Josh.

He may not have had much expereince shopping with the ladies, but Rowan gave him a quick lesson. When the holographic figure of her appeared she whiked through nearly a hundred outfits in just a few minutes. She had very definite ideas of what she liked. She was short and busty. Rowan looked for suits that played up her very nice legs, and down her bust - but not too much.

Then she tried on the five she liked best, modelling them for Josh and discretely making note of his reactions.

It wazs just before five when they left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A fortress-castle transport, with all the comforts of home built right into it."

Rob laughed "Wait till you see the Falling Star. He had the 'Diplomat" and Flag Ship upgrades already, and now done as a 'Ambassadorial First Contact' Explorer Starcraft, he's the height of luxury. The main AI has chosen the male gender." In a sleepy voice Rob went on explaining all about their new ships.

Then a yawn caught up with him. "Mmm, sorry love but three hours of sleep last night didn't help much, and I've been up since six a.m." He couldn't hide another yawn. It was nearly five p.m.

Ryan nodded. "Don't worry about it then. I'll deal with it when it comes time to deal with it. Most likely be more negotiations, more shit talking, and more show offs before then."

He looked back at the small crowd his display had pulled in. No where near the size Harlan's had, but good enough for him for now. He had plenty of wait list customers back in Imitora, these would just be add ons to the list.

He gave Charli a quick kiss on the head as Doc waved him over to the Cobra. "I gotta go babe, meet and greet and see what other tuners are here. Heard HKS has one hell of a booth. You don't need to come if you want, mostly business stuff. Trading business cards and such. We'll talk later," he said, moving off towards Doc.
___

Hoot laughed. "Yeah, you could say that. New Owl Customs. We do mostly one off jobs, working with BMWs and Porsches for the most part. We work it like Gemballa and Ruff. We take the chasis, then do our own engine and body work. But I'm working behind the scenes with a friend, well, sorta friend, to start up something else. A bit more production minded."

He grabbed a water pitcher off the side table, and poured out two glasses. He was sure they had something rigged up for Willow for her to drink, but he could hold the glass for her in case they hadn't.

"So, how are things in your neck of the woods?"

Trading business cards and such. We'll talk later,"

"Don't forget you're taking me to dinner tonight" Charli called after Ryan with a smile. She chatted with the other Psycho's at the booth for a bit then visited with the Pettimores a few booths away, getting an update on Willows condition. It was almost five in the afternoon when she headed back to the hotel to change out of her touristy outfit. She definitely wanted to be in something nice for the evening out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Thanks" Willow said as Hoot helped her with the water. She had an I.V. going but she was still thirsty and dry mouthed. Listening to Hoot talk about what he was doing she realized how much she had missed him.

"So, how are things in your neck of the woods?"

"Real quiet these days. The Fed's leave us completely alone most of the time until some damn politician who doesn't know the reality of it tries to get pushy and throw their supposed weight around." She grinned at him. He could guess how such things ended.

"But just a little bored some of the time though. I guess I'm just not cut out to find gobs adventure in being an international outlaw"

Verona Exhibit

"Okay, thank you, That should be sufficient. IF you would like to come out now I'd like to perform a basic demonstration.... Uh.. Miss, if I could borrow that key for a second."

Reluctantly the young man climbed out of the car, obviously disappointed that he wasn't going to get to test 'drive' the car. Slowly he moved off to one side so he could see what was going to happen

Chantal handed 'her' key to Jason with another dazzling smile, turning to watch him more closely, as he took it and moved to the Portia, it's rich paint gleaming under the display lights.

It wasn't that many minutes later that Roawan waltzed back out. "There the hard part is over. They'll have the hologram programmed in just a minute or two." She explained how the holographic body double worked. "It saves me trying on suit after suite. We can see how they look and I only try on the few that look the best on me. It'll be a lot quicker" She reassured Josh.

He may not have had much expereince shopping with the ladies, but Rowan gave him a quick lesson. When the holographic figure of her appeared she whiked through nearly a hundred outfits in just a few minutes. She had very definite ideas of what she liked. She was short and busty. Rowan looked for suits that played up her very nice legs, and down her bust - but not too much.

Then she tried on the five she liked best, modelling them for Josh and discretely making note of his reactions.

It wazs just before five when they left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A fortress-castle transport, with all the comforts of home built right into it."

Rob laughed "Wait till you see the Falling Star. He had the 'Diplomat" and Flag Ship upgrades already, and now done as a 'Ambassadorial First Contact' Explorer Starcraft, he's the height of luxury. The main AI has chosen the male gender." In a sleepy voice Rob went on explaining all about their new ships.

Then a yawn caught up with him. "Mmm, sorry love but three hours of sleep last night didn't help much, and I've been up since six a.m." He couldn't hide another yawn. It was nearly five p.m.

Josh was astounded at the clarity and obvious high technological advances the hologram Rowan showed in detailing her figure and the seemingly millions of outfits possible. The few she did choose after sorting blindingly through the holo'd clothing, he found himself approving, some more than others for their reasons.

However, as much as he had strangely enjoyed this time with Rowan, he wanted out. He wanted to feel the comfort of a car's rumbling beneath his feet again. As they got into the car, he looked over at her, "Where to now, nav?" He gave her a quirky smirk.

##############

Aeris patted Rob on the chest as he apologized and was dozing off despite his efforts to remain awake. "Sleep...you need it." And in a quieter voice, "Falling Star...I like it..." she smiled softly, watching him as he relaxed and his facial features loosened their trained tension. After several moments, she wrapped an arm around him, kissed him on the cheek lightly, and fell asleep beside him.

Some time later, she woke up, finding him still sleeping, his snoring light, though she suspected it was deeper normally. Releasing herself, she slipped silently from the bed, hardly making an indication of such by her movements. She dressed herself, and sat at the edge of the faux balcony doors, looking downward while she brushed her hair. It was time to return back to the main events, to traverse the displays like every other tourist.

A gentle kiss on sleeping Rob's cheek again, and a hand covering his for a brief moment before a trimmed rose appeared beneath his hand, atop a room key. Then, she was gone from the room, making no sound.

Verona Exhibit

"Okay, thank you, That should be sufficient. IF you would like to come out now I'd like to perform a basic demonstration.... Uh.. Miss, if I could borrow that key for a second."

Reluctantly the young man climbed out of the car, obviously disappointed that he wasn't going to get to test 'drive' the car. Slowly he moved off to one side so he could see what was going to happen

Chantal handed 'her' key to Jason with another dazzling smile, turning to watch him more closely, as he took it and moved to the Portia, it's rich paint gleaming under the display lights.

Jason sat down and it seemed whatever the man previously altered reverted to the state it was in when he entered it, it was purely to show that it indeed acted as Jason was making it out.

"As you can see everything has reverted to it's previous saved state, and ready to be driven once more by the owner of this key." A microphone had been hidden somewhere in the car and it linked into the sound system. So that everyone would be able to hear him. Hopping out again, he smiled at Chantal before returning the key to her. "Thank you, As you can see the Portia is a car for the individual no matter how many people may actually drive it, before we finish up. I'd like to congratulate our two volunteers. They will each be receiving a special Concept edition of the Portia, only 5 will be made before the production model, the other 3 are still up for grabs and will be given to various lucky people at some point throughout the convention. Please have a clap for them."

Jason's grin was wide, he knew this was going to happen and Chantal, was the perfect option, she looked pleasing to the eye and she obviously knew what was most important. She deserved this.

As Charli made her way down the hall way towards the suite, she would notice a small gathering of men. Some were well dressed, some not so much, but all had that look of unsavory origins. They gave off the very distinct air of security or otherwise, but not on the government side. However, it wasn't to be unexpected. It was one of those not so well known, but well assumed, facts that Imitora played in the mud with the worse of them.

Entering the room, she would find the door needing no push to close, Spence, one of Ryan's military counterparts stood on the other side. He pushed it closed for her, and gave her not quite an upset look, nor disapproving, but somewhat exasperated. He was dressed very well, one of his favored custom tailored suits. However, the classic lines of the business jacket was broken by his modified CAR-68, wearing a 7.5inch barrel in a super shorty conversion. It wasn't as much a combat rifle as it was a bullet hose first contact weapon, laying down as much of its deadly 6.8mm as possible when the shit first hit the fan.

Following around the suite to the main meeting room, Charli found Ryan sitting at a table with four other men, as well as a younger blond. He looked up at Charli briefly, then went back to the obvious business situation at hand. He to was dressed equally as well as Spence, but not in one of his comfortable going out suits, but instead one that looked decidedly of function before form. Strapped quite visibly to his hip was the Nazgul 1911. The female was dressed in a tasteful blouse and skirt, with a jacket doing well to hide an FN FiveseveN in an over the shoulder holster.

"So, like I was saying," Ryan went back to the men, "the deal stands as it always has. You stay out of this, theres one fifty in cash up front. Plus intell as we get it. You turn in some names that lead somewhere we get you more cash, and more intell. Rory will vouch for the intell, as will Giuseppe. They've both been found asses out of jail thanks to what we can get you."

"But," the woman cut in, "if we can trace any actions back to you, Ryan here will personally take Spencer and some of their friends, hunt you down, and do things so unspeakable to you, that even the Algerians would shudder." Her voice was sweet and soothing, but her tone deadly serious.

"Deal?" Ryan asked. There were nods across the table. "Excellent then. You'll find the money and just a taste of the info we can provide sitting up front with Spence. I apologize for making this meeting so last minute, but such is the nature of our operations. And everyone," Ryan said, waving over to Charli, "I'd like to introduce Charli Firewalker."

The men stood, some giving her an approving eye.

"Charli," Ryan spoke, going around the table, "this is Rory O'Devenry, pIRA; Giuseppe Aldo, La Cosa Nostra; Ibrahim Al'Davar, Hammas; and Juan Ramirez Ortega of the Columbian Cartels."

The men, from the dock worker dressed O'Devenry to the painfully expensive custom suit of Aldo all offered a brief nod, then stood from the table. Most of the men just nodded towards Ryan, but Rory stopped for a moment.

"Aye, we owe ya one out of London now. We were out before the blues and twos even got close. That was good on ya. Anytime you or that Spence boyo come to our end, we'll have ya covered. Pint on me." As he moved out the room, he gave Charli an approving nod, and then slipped out.

The blond began packing up her briefcase, and checked her FN. "I'll make sure they get out ok. You need anything else?"

"No thanks Lay, just get me what you can ASAP."

"No prob hun, I'll make sure we have a team or three ready to roll on any word we get. Chances are we'll make all of this go away long before this little car show here is even close to over."

She too made her way out of the room. Ryan stood, looking up at Charli. He took the disc he had received from Mercy earlier in the day out of his suit pocket, and tossed the jewel case on the table.

"Were you planning on telling me about this?"

Charli felt her heart drop as she saw the penthouses current guest list. She had hoped that Ryan's military 'hat' wouldn't crop up durin g the show, but it looked for all the world like it had. Spence's look of exasperation had her mentally thowing up her hands as she couldn't think of a single reason for him to be upset with her, save for maybe coming back to the hotel at an inconvient time "Well if thats the case why didn't Ryan call me" She muttered to herself as she headed in the direction the man had indicated.

Ryan's outfit promised even less for the two of them having anything approaching a romantic dinner.Damn it I hate this, I hate him being in the damned military. The bloody government cost us five years of hell, me thinking he was dead, him running every scabby op they could thow him on. She tamped down on the rage with every bit of self discipline she could muster, and managed polite, non commital smiles at the men he introduced her to.

"No prob hun, I'll make sure we have a team or three ready to roll on any word we get. Chances are we'll make all of this go away long before this little car show here is even close to over."

The womans words turned Charli's thoughts in a completely different direction

Is some one gunning for Ryan? Someone deciding to make it personal, and tracked him down Her thoughts spun like tires on black ice, now fearful for the man she loved with all her heart and soul.

Were you planning on telling me about this?"

Sho looked at the case and back up at Ryan her face a study in bewhilderment. "What?" Her voice carrying all the confusion she felt, totally lost now.

"Where to now, nav?"

"I figure we have time for a drive before we buy steaks, so why don't you let her unwind oh " She waived airly up the coast "that away."

She kept the conversation light as they tracelled up the coastal highway. There wern't many beaches, mostly the mountain rolled dow and into the sea. What beaches there were though were pristine with black volcanic sand.

"So, what do you do besides cars?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rob stirred in his sleep as Aeris left, his subconscious aware that she'd left, but for once it didn't thow a nightmare up at him. He dreamt of catching a falling star instead.

Ryan shook his head.

"Ya know, you can't just keep hiding this shit from me. I know you don't like my government, my military, my job, whatever. But as far as we are concerned, you've lived in Imitora long enough to damn near be considered a citizen. So we can offer better protection than a bunch of Tennessee hill billies can. Ya got Hoot telling me that the Pettimores are running interference, and now Mercy gives me this disk about more hitters coming after you and you have a damned fighter escort chasing you down."

He sighed, picked up the jewel case, and pocketed it. Spence walked in, and took one look around. The super short carbine hung from the Chalker sling limply, and he pocketed his hands.

"No Russkies?" he asked.

"Nah," Ryan said, shedding the jacket, "We had an incident a few years back in Aubania, they tend not to be to friendly towards us any more."

He turned back to Charli as he started unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the slim fit Kevlar vest. The jacket had clunked to the table, the MP5K strapped into the right breast side was a nifty invention that ONI had found particular use for.

"Listen, I know, you don't trust any of us. But flat out fact is, no one can play this game like we can. CCRT is a proactive unit. We don't wait, we hit them first. You can't just sit back and not tell me shit like this. If I know about it, I can do something about it."

Thrown off balance, and feeling guilty that Ryan knew so well how she felt about things - she thought she had hidden it so very deep - Charli got angry, her voice rising just enought to let it show, as her eyes flashed. "Ryan, the Pettimores watch my back when I'm in the States cause they owe me. They're local but not a bunch of hillbillies, almost all of them are exmil." She was defensive about her friends and felt that Ryan was unfairly dismissive of them. "And what? I'm supposed to haul a group of Imitoran antiterrorists around with me when I'm fighting forest fires? Oh that would just go over great! Your work is dangerous, and I accept that. I worry when ever you go off. People shoot back at you it's a natural part of the job. I wouldn't ever ask you to give up a job you love."

"You've always accepted that mine is dangerous too ...I thought " Her voice cooled but was exasperated and yet guilty too "And yeah the last fire was definitely arson, set to keep me in the Ststes just a little longer, and someone took a shot at me. They missed." Her voice went cold "And the fire got them." Reminding Ryan very obtusely that she was not without her own ability to protect herself. "Iit's dangerous playing around in wild fires, you never know which way they're going to run."

"Look I didn't say anything 'cause I didn't want you worry more, but I was going to tell you tonight. I'm not going back to the States again." She paced in a small circle, sad that one of the things she was going to tell Ryan tonight, something that part of her knew would please him - or she had thought that it would, got spoilt by all of this crap, simply amazing obsession crap

"But I know nothing about fighter escorts. I didn't fly most of the trip, I caught z's and no one said word one to me. ...More hit men?" Her voice rose incredulously as that registered.

Charli closed her eyes for a long second and when they reopend they were as hard as her voice "That does it." She left the conference room without a word, heading for a small sports duffle that went ever where with her, and had for years. Three steps out she stopped and slowly turned around coming back in to the room, catching and holding Ryan's eyes.

"Ryan I do trust you. His name is John Rainbird. Apparently he's my real father" When she'd found out she'd absolutely, positively known exactly how Luke Skywalker had flet.

"So, what do you do besides cars?"

Josh kept his attention forward while he answered her question. "Well, I'm also finishing up a degree in mechanical engineering as well. Much as I like cars, I want to move into the military sector, have a hand in building the latest war craft and whatnot, rather than just good old muscle cars."

Seeing that there was yet another open stretch of black sand beaches, Josh turned off the road, rolled the car onto the grass next to the beach and parked the car. Looking over at her, he gave her a smile,

"Come on. I'm curious to see if there's a difference between the black sand here and the white sand back home."

“Sit down Spence, please. I’m going to tell you a story, one that less than ten living people in the whole world know. Back in the late fifties it became fashionable in certain sectors to try experimental drugs out on college students.” Charli watched as the Brit settled into a chair. She didn’t need to look at Ryan, he’d heard this part.

“Well my mother’s parents were poor college students, orphans actually with no close family. – They met during the ‘clinical drug trial’ stage they had been paid to take part in.”

The Brit nodded he knew how it had been worked, but not that such experiments had begun so early on.

“They experienced some ‘weird shit’ but tried to ignore it, go on as a family. Eventually they had a child, my mother Chalene, nicknamed Charle. But they were different - the drug had activated their mutancies - and Charle even more so. They moved from place to place to hide, but apparently the government entity kept an eye on them, and when they figured out how different Charle was they came to collect them. My grandmother was killed by their fumbling attempt. My grandfather and Charle got away for a time but then The Shop, as they called themselves, managed to catch them. They kept my grandfather mostly drugged and my mother mostly believing that they were hiding them from the actual bad guys. But as my mom goit older she figured out the truth. My grandfather died using his power so my mom could get away. When she did she got really lucky and found some people who would shelter her, and help her stay hidden. They were people who were different and knew about staying hidden. She spent her life learning to hide, and moving from group to group, never staying anywhere too long.”

Charli shuddered mentally to think of what might have happened if her mother hand inadvertently stumbled upon an enclave of the Strange Folk.

Now she looked up at Ryan, for he hadn’t heard this part, she hadn’t known herself until only a couple of years ago.

“Mom didn’t know it but the man who had been her main ‘keeper’ while she was in the Shop’s hands wasn’t exactly normal himself. He was obsessed with my mom.” Charli swallowed hard

“Nor did she know that John Rainbird had a son, also named John and this son inherited…was conditioned to…” Charli was shaking her head, eyes blank, looking inward “ …trained to have that same fixation. He hunted my mom and when he found her he played this role he’d taken on to the hilt and seduced her, got her pregnant and then let her think he was dead, killed, by some of the Shop’s agents as they tried to capture her.”

“My mom spent her life loving a lie.” And Charli’s voice was thick with cold icy fury, and she closed her eyes, holding back the tears, tears not for herself but for her mother. Did Ryan have any idea of the gift she was giving him? And she knew that he did, that by giving him this information, allowing him give her the gift of freedom...

Ryan watched as Charli left the room, all but storming out. He looked on at Spence, his look confused and questioning. "So?" he trailed off.

"Don't look at me mate. I'm divorced six times over. Twice in one year at that."

Ryan nodded. "You can't keep away from our Imitoran girls can you?"

"Nah mate. And that Layla bird, we might be looking at divorce number seven. I like to preplan."

Ryan was about to turn after Charli when she came back out into the main room.

Ryan I do trust you. His name is John Rainbird.

Ryan nodded. "See, not so hard."

He then allowed Charli to give her spill all to Spence, as well as the rest of the story he hadn't heard. He nodded at the important parts, taking note of what little description Charli gave of Rainbird and the rest of the story. He treated it like he would treat any brief. He may have at some time had a clue to how much it took for Charli to give it all up, but at this time he wouldn't think it much.

After she finished her story, the room sat in an almost tense silence. Then, in a way only a Brit could, Spence finally spoke up. "So, I take it this isn't one of those human interest pieces we'll be seeing on BBC1? Sky would hold it, I bet."

Ryan laughed. "Well, I'll keep on eye on Fox News. They usually have the best devastation footage. You're heading back with Layla, right? Get her the info, see what we can find. I'm sure we can get something up and running to make him go away. Shouldn't be to hard."

Spence nodded. "Right that then. Don't worry girl," Spence said, standing and grabbing the case for his rifle. "You got ex SAS, Imitoran military, and this nut job here," he said, signaling Ryan, "protecting ya. I'm sure everyone who needs to die will do so shortly."

Come on. I'm curious to see if there's a difference between the black sand here and the white sand back home."

Rowan looked at him with a cocked eyebrow. It was late afternoon, and the sun had all but set in the west, and the winter wind was blowing off of the water. "Sure if you don't mind freezing your feet off, that water has to be cold!" She laughed and popped the door open. It really wasn't as cold as it would get later, only in the middle sixties, but she remembered how cold it had gotten last night at around two or so. Positively chilly.

"So, I take it this isn't one of those human interest pieces we'll be seeing on BBC1? Sky would hold it, I bet."

That startled a bark of tense laughter out of Charli, then she buried her face in her hands.

"Well, I'll keep on eye on Fox News. They usually have the best devastation footage. You're heading back with Layla, right? Get her the info, see what we can find. I'm sure we can get something up and running to make him go away. Shouldn't be to hard."

She didn't respond to that, but looked up briefly as Spence took his leave, giving him a brief, grateful nod at his last comment.

Once he was gone she stood up, her shoulders slumped, and she felt tired beyond belief. "I'm going to go rest a bit Ryan" Charli said softly as she headed for the bedroom.

Ryan nodded. He understood how she must have felt, and stood after her.

"That works fine. I have to get back to the show anyways, have to check on some displays, make sure everything is going good."

He watched her off into their bed room, then quickly changed back into a tee shirt and jeans, and found his way back to the expo and display. He left a note for Charli to just meet him at the show, he could change their. The reservations were for nine pm, which would give Ryan plenty of time to have a quick meeting with any potential customers.

Charli stepped out of the penthouse at about eight forty five, dressed in casual travelling clothes and her large carry all over her shoulder. The butler followed with the luggage she had brought in the day before. Her eyes were red behind the over sized sun glasses she had found somewhere and her hair pulled back into a tight pony tail.

She tucked a folded bill into the butlers hands "Thank you for calling me a cab"

He looked at her, his face troubled. He'd seen plenty of scenes like this before, but tonight just felt wrong, from being hustled off by the quietly dangerous Brit earlier to the mute sadness he felt from the young lady now. "I hope you get everything right." He said softly as he watched the elevator open and helped her set her bags with in.

"I'll be just fine. I'm good at surviving" She said dully, but managed a small smile for him as the doors closed and the elevatere took her down to where the cab waited. Only it wasn't there jusat yet and the doorman promised to wave to her when it arrived, if she'd wait in the lobby.

Verona Exhibit

a special Concept edition of the Portia, only 5 will be made before the production model, the other 3 are still up for grabs and will be given to various lucky people at some point throughout the convention. Please have a clap for them."

The crowd whoopefd and hollered, and clapped, many clearly envious.

Chantal had this momentarily unbelieveing look that vanished beneath a blinding smile, then she gave Jason a big kiss on the cheek. And did something she hadn't done in some time.

"Jason isn't it? Well Jason this is wonderfull, and so very exciting. I've never had anything like this happen to me before. So thank you, and Verona Motors, so very much. This is a lovely car, and I'll highly recommend it." She gave him an even warmer smile. Then Chantal looked about, searching the area around the Verona exhibit a moment before finding it and once she did -she gestured to one of the large standing signs near the entrance, drawing the crowd's attention to it. "However, as you may know, part of this reason that this Automotive Eposition is being held is to highlight the International Children's Fund. I know that, at the auction, a unique concept car like this will fetch a very high price. I would like to donate the one you are so gallantly offering me in mine and Verona's name"

"Of course, Verona would be happy to support you in your very generous donation. Miss?" prompting Chantal for her name.

Come on. I'm curious to see if there's a difference between the black sand here and the white sand back home."

Rowan looked at him with a cocked eyebrow. It was late afternoon, and the sun had all but set in the west, and the winter wind was blowing off of the water. "Sure if you don't mind freezing your feet off, that water has to be cold!" She laughed and popped the door open. It really wasn't as cold as it would get later, only in the middle sixties, but she remembered how cold it had gotten last night at around two or so. Positively chilly.

Josh gave her a look, "It can't be that bad really. Besides, I'm not planning on swimming..." A strange look crossed his face for a moment, "unless you've got other plans on that." He chuckled.

Bending down as they arrived on the beach, he took a handful of the sand, thoughtfully felt it between his fingers and let it fall to the earth again. He withdrew a small container from a pocket, ignoring the thought in his mind that questioned just why he had one there. Taking some of the black sand, he filled the small container, sealed it back up and stood up again. He looked over at Rowan, "Dad'll like seeing this." he explained.

Verona Exhibit

Of course, Verona would be happy to support you in your very generous donation. Miss?"

"Chantal. Chantal d'Racul, from Tanaara. And thank you Jason.." She started to say something more but the British man suddenly stepped up on the other side of jason and announced in a loud and agressive voice that the one he'd won would be a gift to "me mum 'cause she never has had a new car before, and she deserves it!"

That brought a round of applause and good natured laughter from the crowd.

A voice called out to Charli from not to far away as she dropped into the seat. It wasn't much of a sentence, but more of an "Oi, you", belonging to Spence. The expat Brit dropped across her in the chair, and gave her a once over.

He didn't quite smell of, but had the look that he had been drinking, a good bit of gin. He didn't do vodka in his martinis, he preferred them done correctly. He gave her another look, and shrugged.

"I see Ryan's gone all out. What, reservations for a McDonald's or such?"

"Hon, in the winter I swim only in heated pools." She grinned "and not on the first date."

She watched him take a sample of the sand. Nodding when he said he thought his dad would like it.

"It is a lot different than the normal sand colored sand back home." Rowan too dipped down and collected a small handfull of the glietening ebon sand. "It feels different. Very fine, not coarse at all. And I bet at noon it really sparkles too."

She looked west, up into the bulk of the island. "These are all volcanic islands, like Hawaii. I wonder how active they are"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rob looked at himself in the mirror and watched his lips curl up in a satisfied smile that was half disbelief and half relief [i]She said yes! Yes! She's willing to marry me warts and all...and they're a lots worse than just warts but she's still willing she said yes![i] He snorted at his own internal giddiness and finished combing his hair.

A few minutes later he was on the phone - sercurely encrypted - passing the good news on to his mother. With her congratulations ringing in his ears he strode out of the concealed suite with a bounce in his step, intent on finding his half brother.

Charli was more lost in though than not and gave a small jump when Spence appeared out of seemingly no-where.

"I see Ryan's gone all out. What, reservations for a McDonald's or such?"

Charli half shrugged. "I don't know" She was doublly glad of the dark glasses now hiding her eyes. She hated that someone she knew might see and guess how miserable she was- especially Spence at the moment after the earlier ugly revelations God's what does he think of me? Is that why he's been drinking - thinking about his best friend's mutie girlfriend?. Hoping that he would just go away she didn't say anything more. It's stupid and egotistical tho think it's about me, but Goddess some of the things I've seen people do after learning that someone was other than a 'normal' human...The cab is taking it's sweet time. I still have to go say good bye to Ryan and then get to the airfield to catch the flight Charli was not looking forward to seeing Ryan again - that was a dagger in her heart- but she refused just to sneak away. She couldn't stay, but a vanishing act or a 'Dear Ryan' letter were not her way.

Spence waved over one of the waiters of the near by bar, and kicked his feat up on the table between Charli and him. "Right mate, get me another gin and tonic. Keep 'em coming too."

He turned his attention back to Charli, leaning back in the leather seat.

"You don't know where the reservations are? Well that can't be a good thing. Ryan coming to get you or are you meeting him somewhere? I can call and find out if you want," he offered.

At that moment, Layla walked over. She gave Charli a friendly nod, but was more there to talk to Spencer.

"Turns out we have a technical issue. The equivalent of a CEL on a 747. They are looking into it now, but we may be here for a few more hours. I'll come and get you when I get the call we are good to go, but I'm gonna head over to the show, take a look at whats there. Need anything?"

Spence shook his head. "Enjoy it. Say hi to the guys for me."

He looked back at Charli. "Now, where were we? Ah yes, dinner. Need me to find out for you?"

Charli nodded to Layla, not really paying attention to her, or what she was discussing with Spence

"Now, where were we? Ah yes, dinner. Need me to find out for you?"

"What?..No, no thank you Spence, but I'm not going. I'm leaving." She didn't know why she told him. It just kinda came out, slipping around the ache in her throat. Her shoulders slumped and she looked over towards the bellhop but he was busy with someoneelse's luggage. Her few pieces stood off to the side in the waiting area.

Verona Exhibit

Of course, Verona would be happy to support you in your very generous donation. Miss?"

"Chantal. Chantal d'Racul, from Tanaara. And thank you Jason.." She started to say something more but the British man suddenly stepped up on the other side of jason and announced in a loud and agressive voice that the one he'd won would be a gift to "me mum 'cause she never has had a new car before, and she deserves it!"

That brought a round of applause and good natured laughter from the crowd.

"Good for you, please ladies and gentlemen if you would give another round of applause for our winners, and remember there are still 3 other cars to be won. Please keep your eyes and ears out. You never know where you might find one."

If anyone was paying attention to the BazaBurger stand nearby, some organisational things were happing the paper they use to wrap the burgers in were being changed, they'd now include cryptic hints to the location of a key to the special concept edition of the Verona Portia.

Spence would seem to Charli either totally wasted, or well clueless. He gave her an off look, and shrugged.

"Leaving eh? Just not enjoying the show, to much business?" He was honestly curious trying to figure out what was going on. "Or is it something else? Your giving off that quite miffed vibe women tend to give off. Or something like that. Care to chat?"

"Or is it something else? Your giving off that quite miffed vibe women tend to give off. Or something like that. Care to chat?"

"Charli gave him a sad smile and shook her head slightly "I'm not mad, not even miffed. Just tired of ..hell I don't know. Ryan doesn't seem to have a clue how hard earlier was for me. And keeping things from him? So I hadn't come running to him with the fact that yet again some one tried to do something or other to me while I was in the States. I know it's "Injun Country" and while it's not really home..it's kinda the closest I had for a long time. ...I know I'm not any good with relationships. And maybe I try to do too much for myself, but I thought Ryan wanted a strong, able to take care of herself woman..." She broke off her shoulders slumping.

"I could take care of my father, I'm not without resources, but I don't think Ryan even realiazes how hard it was for me to give it over to him, to let him take care of it for me...'Was that so hard/" hell yes it was hard. Try getting Ryan to talk reasonably about his father. Thats a grenade!" She took a deep breath, and continued.

"I spent five years with my memory wiped, fighting though to get it back. I thought he was dead. I wanted to die and couldn't and he waltzes back into my life after five years of him doing what he likes to do best and he never once tried to get in touch with me...that son of a bitch abandoned me into hell of five fucking years." Her voice was all but inaudible, and it was filled with pain and bewhilderment "I don't think he really cares about me, I'm just convienent."

Spence just nodded.

"Obviously, I'm pretty much the last person to go to with relationship advice and such. I've failed six times, but at least I know why, and admit it, so I think I have the ability to speak on the topic a bit."

He took a long pull from his drink, then went back to Charli.

"I can't speak for those five years, I didn't start tailing around with Ryan till the end of such, after he asked me to do some door kicking with him. Some CIA types or stuff on the wrong side of the line. Not really sure what the entire situation in itself was, Ryan only told me part of it. He had to keep his head low for a good number of reasons, and they all made sense to me. I know he spent most of that time looking for you, but from my understanding a few so called "friends" were less than forthcoming with information, or just trying to play games for some ass odd reason.

"And yes, I'm sure he wants a girl who is somewhat independent, but he also wants someone to depend on him. He needs someone to make him feel like he does something for them, more than just makes them feel good or such, but actually does something. And I'll use his example, The Pettimores. I would bet all the cash I had he feels like you go to them for everything and just leave him in the dark. You have problems or something, and instead of coming and talking to him about it, you up and off out to the States and leave him back home to try and figure out whats wrong.

"The issue I see is that you two are far to secretive for your own good. Now on this, I have to take Ryan's side. We do things that we flat cannot talk about. We go places we aren't supposed to go and do things we aren't supposed to do. And the way the Imitoran military operates about it, its not just you or other spouses or girlfriends or significant others. If you are not on the operation, or directly involved in it, even if you are on the teams, you don't know about it, and thats they way they have to work.

"And this is why he so loves being in the military. It gives him that sense of purpose, the whole "he needs to be doing something for someone." Thats why he stays involved. And this is his fault, much like mine. I had all of my relationships fail because they were secondary. Before he met you, all he had was the running and gunning. And he lived for it. It was first in his mind, and it was all. This is something he's going to have to learn to handle. He'll need to learn how to split his need to be in the military with his relationship with you. He can, and he will when given the chance."

The waiter came back with another drink, and Spence hurriedly took another pull, and a handful of bar nuts. "Simply, you have two people who are too damned alike to have that needed difference in a relationship. Ryan needs to come around, and you need to be much more open with him. He needs to find away to still be involved with the outfit, keep up his participation levels in what he does best, and you need to start going to him with more of your problems. He needs to come to the understanding that he can't just treat your relationship like a military operation, and you need to understand that he comes from a very long line of people who do only one thing well, and that is fight war. He needs to figure out a way to not look at the relationship as something that can be planned out like an operation. There are no go codes, no infill/exfill points, no central and secondary targets, nothing that require any doors to be kicked in."

Spence took another pull, cleaning half the glass of the gin and tonic mix. He idly studied the lime for a moment, and finished his thought.

"You want my advice on it?"

Charli pulled the shades off and looked at Spence with complete disbelief.

"He thinks I go to the states to get the Pettimores to take care of my problems? I go to the states for pay, to fight wild fires. Maybe at the end of a call up I stop by to visit for a day or two so I can collect my last paycheck in person and get it cashed easier that I can in Imitora. But go to the Pettimnores for everything...oh Ryan" She sighed and murmured mostly to herself "I'm sorry love.'

She gave Spence a wry half smile. "Please Spence. Goddess knows I need it."

Spence nodded, and began to again idly study the lime in his gin and tonic.
___

Ryan was waiting, somewhat impatiently, for Charli. They were going to miss their reservations if she didn't arrive soon, and that was with the way Ryan drove. He had changed, sort of, into a decent button down and black slacks. The rest of his suit was sitting in the back of the Audi S6 he had procured.

He took the opportunity to do a quick once over of the display set up, making sure late night customers who showed up after he had left would have no problem maneuvering around the display and finding the information that they need.

Doc walked up slowly, taking a look around, focusing on the Viper he had revealed earlier. "I dunno man, she can be late at times, but this is a bit beyond her."

The large man looked up, spotted someone moving over fast, and sighed. "Your brother is coming," he said, pointing to Rob, moving across the floor at a quick step.

It was indeed Rob approaching, glad to find that he'd managed to catch Ryan still at the Expo. He had tried to slow down but he found himself too happy to bother with caring how he might ought to appear.

"Hey Ryan. How did things go today? I saw all the Top Gear stuff about. Did your interview go off?" He asked as he crossed the Psychosis exhibit.

"Take tonight off," Spence said, matter of factly. "Let Ryan go out tonight, clear his head out, and do some thinking. I'll have someone set up some reservations for you tomorrow night at an equally nice place. If you just go back to him tonight an apologize or such, he wont realize anything was wrong. Like all men, he will see that there was a problem, he will see that the problem was fixed, and he will forget it. And in another year, this exact same situation will pop up again."

He finished the drink, and then his theory.

"Don't leave, stay here. I'll talk to Ryan, I'm heading that way anyway, and handle getting him and the boyos a room for the night. Take the night easy, get yourself a nice diner, kick back, watch a movie or something. He'll spend the night out with the guys, they'll tell him how they see it, and I know how they see it. Go meet him tomorrow at the show, and everything will be perfect. Trust me on it."
____

Ryan took a quick glance over his shoulder at Rays moving back into the display. He had been handling his own business for the most of the day, but had spread a few rumors that his Evo would be out on the streets later that night, looking for a few 1/4 passes with the so called fastest.

Ryan turned back to the approaching Tanaaran, and leaned back against a display post.

Hey Ryan. How did things go today? I saw all the Top Gear stuff about. Did your interview go off?

Ryan shook his head. "Nope. Technical difficulties. Some lights and sound stuff over heated or something. They got Doc's Viper at least. What ya need?"

What ya need?"

Rob's smile went even wider. "I've got to be the luckiest man in the universe. Aeris said Yes!" He moved a little closer and lowered his voice slightly. He wasn't certain how Ryan would react to the request he was about to make. He and his half brother weren't the best of friends but he had a lot more respect and admiration for Ryan than most knew.

"Ryan I'd be honoured if you'd be my best man."

"Whose Aeris?" Ryan asked, looking back at his half brother.

"I'ma have to say his fiancé," Doc chimed in.

Ryan looked at Doc, and Doc at Ryan.

The two exchanged a series of shrugs, nods, and head tilts. Many had often said that Imitorans could communicate with each other just through not more than body language, and this seemed to confirm. What few knew was that Doc and Ryan had served together long enough that they could easily tell what the other was thinking. The looks did convey a conversation as they debated the point.

Ryan looked back at Rob. "You probably couldn't handle an Imitoran Bachelor Party."

"Don't look like it," Doc chimed in.

"Only one way to find out," Ryan finished. "Yeah I'll do it."

"Who's Aeris?" Rob feinged wide eyed surprize. "Don't tell me you've forgotten the most beautiful woman in the world? You know Tarlachia, Empress, Hell and back again for the fun of it?" His voice joking but with a serious undertone. Then he laughed and asked "What's an Imitoran Bachelor Party? Invading a small country?"

_________________

Trust me on it."

Charli heaved a deep sigh. I'll give it a try Spence. I don't want to leave but I don't feel that I can stay. I don't have a problem with him keeping operational secretes, thats never bothered me, and I don't hate him being in the military. I loathe the damn government and his thinking that it is the best thing in the world. It was the damn government that started this whole fucking mess and it was Ryan and I who paid for their lies and cover ups." Thinking back over that roused her anger again. Her voice was low so that it didn't carry past him, but it was hard and cold and filled with a venom he'd never heard in her voice before. Then the anger just drained out of her like a punctured balloon.

"And I want him as my husband. I want to have our child, or children, but he doesn't want any of that. And that hurts"

Ryan shook his head calmly. "Well, for starters you gotta be able to polish off a fifth of jack in under an hour, and from there, we just go."
___

Spence shook his head. "We'', I can't debate that point because I wasn't there for any of it. But if Ryan has such positive feelings on it, then I'm sure he has a good reason. He'll be the first to call anyone on anything he thinks is BS."

Spence took another handful of the bar snack.

"You can leave if you want, but depending on where you go, I wouldn't count on him to come after you. He knows you despise the government, and if you leave to go anywhere but Imitora, he won't be able to make that choice. He can't just turn his back on something thats been a major part of his life since he hit puberty. And I don't seem him leaving you at all anytime soon. He just needs to hit that time in life where he is ready for it. He spent the majority of his youth in the military. He's what, thirty five? Yeah, hes not old, but this is the first time he's ever had the free time to live a normal life again. Just give him some time. He'll come around when the time is right."

Well, for starters you gotta be able to polish off a fifth of jack in under an hour, and from there, we just go."

Rob replied honestly. "Ryan you know how I was when you found me. I haven't had more than a glass of wine or two since then. There's no way I could do that. I learned a hundred and one ways to look like I'm drinking more than I actually am, but a fifth of Jack? I don't think I could spoof you. " He chuckled unbothered by admitting to his lack of ability in that field.

Robert Ryan Fortier Hexx had survived five years in Hell, he had nothing to prove to any one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Charli shook her head in frustration "Spence this is Not some sort of game to me, me running to make him chase after me, or to have to choose. I just don't know how to make it work. I just feel like I'm in some sort of limbo." Her shoulders sagged "Spence I've never asked for anything from Ryan. I thought if you had to ask for it then it wasn't freely given. I've never asked him not to do anything either, even when I would have given eye teeth that he not do it. I've never nmade demands on him. I've tried to be unclingy, unpossessive, as unobtrusive in his life as possible, so that if he spent time with me, or did things with me it was because he really wanted to, not 'cause he felt he had to or would be 'punished' "in the dog house" if he didn't..." Her voice trailed off. "I guess I just can't do anything right. And even that sounds like whining"

Kids often see things that adults over look and as the afternoon wore on more and more kids were begging their folks for yet another Baza burger. Not only were they tasty and moderately priced but the kids were collecting all the clues they could and by six p.m. a number of them had formed into impromptu teams searching the exhibition- all nine freely available levels and the hanger exhibits as well with a thoroughness that a bomb search squad would find enviable.

They found three lost wallets, seven cell phones, one wedding ring, countless earring pair halfs, and caught a pick pocket in the act. That last earned the team three hundred dollars reward to split between them, but not the Verona Portia Concept key. Though more than three quarters of the families of the sleuthers had broken down and agreed to come back the next day.

The various journalists had caught on to the hunt and had asked for interviews with Jason. A very enterprizing video team from Japan had decided to make an documentory of what they had taken to calling the 'Childrens Dream Car Hunt, and were following the various 'teams' about.

One of the custom bumper sticker printing kiosks in the sub level approached Jason about printing some of the clues on their products, offering to donate a portion of the profits to charity.

I hunted high and low for a Verona Portia: Here's clue #..............................................

"She was decent," Ryan said back to Doc.

"Well, you'll have to at least try. Tradition and all."

None of the group had noticed two men approach, and take interest in the display. One was dressed somewhat formally, taking a wondering look around the Psychosis exhibit. The other wore a dress shirt, but jeans and a TRD windbreaker. Both were older, but not elderly, Japanese men, and seemed to be overly examining what Ryan had to offer.

The one in the TRD jacket approached Rob, and gave him a careful eye, and then turned to Ryan.

"Excuse me," he spoke, in clear yet slightly broken English, asking Rob. "Is this man Ryan Fortier?"
___

Spence shrugged. "Well, I've given you all the advice I can give. At the end of the day, when the sun drops out, and its just you out there in the dark, you have to make your own call."

A chirp rang out from Spence's pocket, and he pulled it out, hitting talk.

"Yes love?" There was a hold, and he nodded, as if the phone could transmit the movement. "Right then. I'll have a cab pick me up, meet you at the airport."

He snapped the phone shut, and scribbled something down on the bar napkin. He handed it to Charli, and stood, waving over one of the bell men.

"Its my phone number. Think about it. If you want me to call Ryan, give me a ring and I'll it all sorted out before you have your phone hung up. If you want to go talk to him, you can do that to."

He stood, and walked out the front door to a waiting taxi.

Psychosis Exhibit

"Is this man Ryan Fortier?"

Rob didn't recognise either of them, but he replied in fluent Japanese that indeed "Yes, this is Mister Ryan Fortier of Psychosis Motorsports." He gave the older gentleman a properly respectful bow, observing the man carefully but discretely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Before Spence's cab was out of the long drive way his phone was ringing. "Yes Spence, please call Ryan." was all Charli said.

Slowly she stood up and headed out of the lobby. Spence had suggested cleaing her head. She knew best how to clear her head. After directing the bell man to take her luggage back up to the penthouse she headed out to the garage where the Grand National waited

The man bowed to Rob, then Ryan, and then turned to the other who stood further back. The conversation was quick, too the point. The man who stood back, older by some years than the other but still looking young for his age, extended a hand to Ryan.

"Mr. Fortier, my name is Shoichiro Toyoda. I was told that you may have on of my cars."

Ryan stood, all but dumbfounded at the man. He had never been much a fan of Toyota beyond the Supras, finding them somewhat boring, pedestrian affairs. Rarely did he find himself working on any other of the sporty Toyotas or Lexi, but the Supras were his choice.

"Uh, yes, Mr. Toyoda. I believe we might."

"May I?" he asked, signaling over to the vehicle under the sheet.

Ryan nodded, and walked over with him, giving one hard pull on the soft sheet tarp. The black MkIV (http://us.st11.yimg.com/us.st.yimg.com/I/titanmotorsports_1977_260576855) that sat under it gave off an aura of nothing more than pure, raw, strength. It sat low on the fifteen inch Bogart wheels, the massive slicks on the back and custom low resistance tires on the front kept it from looking out of place with the smaller kicks. The body kit was the ultra rare TRD wide body set up, and painted numerous times in a high gloss metallic black. The bumper was pitted with a small sample of rock chips, dings, and nicks. Signs that unlike most of the show cars here, it was actually driven.

Shoichiro gently laid his hand against the side, trailing it along slowly and gently. The man with the TRD jacket just stood back, his eyes somewhat teary.

Ryan took but another second till he figured out who the second man was. "When you put the idea for this car together 15 years ago," he asked, "did you have any idea how much of an icon it would become?"

He just smiled, and shook his head. Ryan fished the keys out of his pocket, and handed them to Shoichiro. The elderly Japanese man looked up, question, but Ryan just nodded. Toyoda tossed them to the man in the jacket, spoke a few more words of Japanese, and slipped into the passenger's seat. The man with the TRD jacket took the wheel, and Ryan stood back.

One of the reasons he had selected the area they had for the display was ease of access to pull the cars out, and this was one of those times. He watched as the black Supra rolled slowly out of the display hall, the attendants closing the door behind it.

The Used's Pretty Handsome Awkward chirped out from Ryan's pocket, and he pulled out the cell phone, snapping it open, and answered in few words. He was silent for a few moments, then a minute, then several more. He nodded as if receiving instructions, then snapped the phone shut.

"Charli's not feeling to hot, she's just gonna take the night off. Looks like we're on our own tonight," he said to Doc, and disappeared for a few minutes. He returned to Doc and Rob making small talk, but was out of the suit, and into a more comfortable shirt, one of the ever popular in Imitora Affliction brand shirts, a pair of well worn jeans, and his Puma driving shoes.

Doc looked out the entrance where the black Supra had just pulled out. "So I take it we are taking the blue Toyota. Or do you want to roll out in the Viper?"

Ryan half nodded. "I'll take the blue car, you get your white Viper going, and we'll call Rays to get his Evo out." He turned and looked at Rob. "You coming or what?"

You coming or what?"

"Sure" Rob replied as he headed over to the Royal Tanaaran Collection. He had a quick quiet discussion with the assistant manager on duty which ended with the man apparently giving way and pulling a set of keys out of a locked box. Some of the cars were moved to make exit room for one that had been placed unobtrousively in the rear of the display.

"Hey Ryan I wanted to drop this off with you and see if you could make it do what it's really supposed to do. It has the twin-supercharged engine, but I think it really can do what it's hype says it can with better under the hood."

He grined wrylyand quoted "And the Lord said: "Let there be a supercar. A car one part Lamborghini, one-part 1990s Camaro, one-part Supra, and one-part F22 Raptor. And let this awesomeness be clothed in matte-black carbon fiber. And from its bowels shall shriek the mighty wail of turbocharged and/or supercharged rare-alloy sanctity. And all the other exotic car makers shall know its name. And lo, Vector sprang forth from the Earth."

"We got given this when the family finanical managers bailed them out earlier last summer. It's supposed to be capable of two thousand horsepower. I haven't had a chance to drive it, or even seen it run. This might be it's first and last flight so to speak"

It's matte black carbon fiber body wasn't the prettiest of things, but the VECTOR WX-8 Hyper-Tech Performance Vehicle (http://jalopnik.com/cars/la/blasting-from-the-past-vector-avtech-wx8-321943.php) might have some real potential.

(OOC: Well, trying to get back into the whole thing. Re-introduction post for now, and a very short one at that.)

VLT Exhibit, 2nd level of TMZIA

Even when the exposition was open, people were still at work on the VLT stand. While the exhibit itself may be finished, the classic cars still required a lot of work on one of their first trips abroad. Mechanics of the Van Luxemburgian Classic Preservation Fund and the Grand-Ducal Garages walked around the vehicles, wiping dust and greasy fingers off the vehicles. Even while the vehicles were protected by a ring that surrounded their parkings spots, people, especially children, still managed to get past the barriers and touch the cars.

Meanwhile, Maximillian Mayer still sat at the bar, sipping from a glass of orange juice. His salesmen did the job for him, and there was little left than relax and look over the stand, to see what happened there.

On the other side of the exhibit, the emergency vehicles had been installed once again, with their crews busy cleaning it, while they had the chance. However, since the vehicles had been opened up to the public, like any other vehicle on the VLT stand (except for the classic cars, ofcourse), they were continuously interrupted by people getting in and out of the vehicle, hampering their ability to clean some mud out of the cabin of the firetruck.

In other words, all went well on the VLT stand.

Ryan gave Rob a harsh look.

"Speak another good word about that car or that car company, and your on your own tonight."

Doc just laughed. "They convinced you to help bail them out of trouble? I though you royal types were supposed to be smart. I'm surprised the thing even runs!"

"Yeah," Ryan finished. "We'll work it. It may come back looking like an RX7, or a Supra, or a Viper or Corvette or something, but it'll be plenty fast. Assuming you guys could handle the Imitoran concept of a fast car." Ryan just shook his head giving the Vector one more look. "Ok, seriously, what are you bringing?"

Rob threw back his head and laughed. "I thought that would get you all going. And hell the Hexx family finances are interwoven in so much, every where, I didn't know a thing about it untill they off loaded it, and I nearly gagged. I'd like to foist it off on someone who deserves it."

The Hexx family as a whole were the wealthiest in Tanaara, and though few knew it, Mercedez was the wealthiest of them all, though she had placed all her funds in a blind trust so no one could accuse her of using her prosition to enrich herself further. She didn't need to do that - she owned over eighty percent of Hexx Arms and Munitions, the foremost supplier of police and military goods in the nation if not the region.

"No, while I doubt it, it's quite in the speed class of y'alls, I'm driving this tonight."

One of the exhibit attendants rolled up in car that officially wasn't on the market yet. A dark blue, not out until later that year, 2009 Lotus Esprit Turbo.

"Lotus was willing to sell me the first car off of the rollers. They even let me watch it being built." It was obvious he really felt attached to the vehicle. "I had them ship it over from home last night. Ryan, you want me to put my money where Harlan's big mouth is, this car I can wager, I own it." His smile was cold and the storm blue of his eyes had gone very dark. Then his eyes lightened. "But what say we use the vecshit to give Harlan a fit first.?"

Kids often see things that adults over look and as the afternoon wore on more and more kids were begging their folks for yet another Baza burger. Not only were they tasty and moderately priced but the kids were collecting all the clues they could and by six p.m. a number of them had formed into impromptu teams searching the exhibition- all nine freely available levels and the hanger exhibits as well with a thoroughness that a bomb search squad would find enviable.

They found three lost wallets, seven cell phones, one wedding ring, countless earring pair halfs, and caught a pick pocket in the act. That last earned the team three hundred dollars reward to split between them, but not the Verona Portia Concept key. Though more than three quarters of the families of the sleuthers had broken down and agreed to come back the next day.

The various journalists had caught on to the hunt and had asked for interviews with Jason. A very enterprizing video team from Japan had decided to make an documentory of what they had taken to calling the 'Childrens Dream Car Hunt, and were following the various 'teams' about.

One of the custom bumper sticker printing kiosks in the sub level approached Jason about printing some of the clues on their products, offering to donate a portion of the profits to charity.

I hunted high and low for a Verona Portia: Here's clue #..............................................

It was with amusement that Jason watched as the children discovered the clues and went about trying to find them. It would propably take a childs imagination and lack of assumptions for them to actually find the key, but no one had found it yet.

The media attention was exactly what he and the rest of the team at Verona were hoping for, Jason was happy to see and talk to anyone that approached him from the children running, to the Japanese crews following them to proper and formal interviews.

As for the stickers, he was open to the idea, but he did have an agreement with BazaBurger with regards to the display of clues, and as such it would require alteration to such agreement, if he could find the CEO of BazaBurger which was somewhere in the exhibition centre. Then there was a good chance that he could start doing the bumper stickers.

Frederick Davidson, the aforementioned CEO of BazaBurger had made his way to the Psychosis exhibit, just looking over what was on show there.

"Whether or not they're active, I don't want to be here when they blow." Josh commented, "I've heard people and volcanic activity don't exactly get along very well. Kinda like my buddy and his wife. She's tearing him apart with scathing comment after another." he chuckled at the comparison, although it was a bit true sadly.

Placing a gentle hand on her lower back, he turned her around gently until they faced away from the car, but not toward the ocean. Rather, she would see that he wanted to simply walk with her. And so, he began to walk, his hand having fallen back to his side again.

"So, let me ask you something. Did you ask me out because of my good looks, or because I just happen to be striking that Captain Morgan pose? You know the one-" he raised his left foot, planting in on an invisible barrel while his fists were put to his sides."-like this." He gave her a smile, his eyes laughing.

."-like this."

Rowan threw back her head and laughed, a full rolling laugh that belied her small stature as she walked along next to him. She looked up and spoke honestly. "No, not at all. I wanted to get to know you, away from your dad. And he may be a wonderful dad, and I do like him, but he's a little lacking in the sweetness catagory. I like men who are men, but with a sweet side to them."

She kicked the sand lightly, looking down now. "I also grew up a military brat, from families that have, despite our general contempt for governments, have generations of military service under our belts. But I'd like to meet men who are a little different."

Rowan explained further "I'm a singer, I make a very good living in the night clubs and a couple of independantly discs to my name. Nothing gone gold much less platinum, but still steady sales...and some times my family gets a little smothering. I'm the youngest of my generation, all but the youngest period.. Only Jonni Lea's and David's kids are younger than me and they're the next generation."

Ryan and Doc looked at the Lotus. It was a decent looking car, but nothing either of them had been all that interested. It had potential, everything did with the right cash. But then, it wasn't something either of them would go wild over picking up.

"Its ok," Doc said, tugging the keys out of his pocket. "Slow, but ok."

"We'll just have to stay out of boost," a new voice added. Rays moved up behind the group silently. His Mitsubishi was waiting outside, ready to go. "He rolling with us?"

Ryan nodded, pulling out his own keys. The blue Supra had been off the stands for a while now, and was sitting outside along Rays' Evo. All that needed to be moved was the Viper Doc had been showing off. The Cobra was fast enough, but if Doc really wanted to put the hurt down, the twin turbo'd, TH400'd Viper would really do it. Sitting on massive drag slicks, with a proper stall conversion, it would run deep into the seven second range. If he had to, a quick night of wrenching would out the interior, and six's were on the edge.

"So where are we gonna head to?" Ryan asked, twirling the keys around his index finger.

"I asked around earlier, found out where the midnight club does most of their runs. Good top end high way stuff, some drag runners. Maybe a few sport bikes I can scare the shit out of with my grocery getter," Rays laughed.

Doc just nodded. "I'll see you guys out front."

Willow and Hoot had reminesced, chatting about this and that, catching up on things. Willow was very glad to see him, she had always felt comfortable around him. She liked the fact he'd ever only judged her by what she said and did, not by the hellions that were the rest of her family. He had done a lot of things he couldn't talk about and she respected that - he never made her feel as if he were being evasive, or superior. Though he was a hell of a man. But eventually her eyes drooped close, much against her will as she fell asleep on him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rob didn't really care that they judged the car slow- he wasn't a speed junky, he liked a car that handled with the amaxing agility and responsiveness that the Esprit did. He wasn't going to make an issue of wagering the car but he find Harlan tomorrow and see if he wanted to 'sweeten the deal'. He'd always known that Imitorans had really perfected the art of being utter assholes, but some times they still amazed him. Harlan and the Sultan were probably destined to be bosom buddies, and that Rob could care less about

He slid behind the wheel of the Lotus and guided it decorously out of the concourse, pulling in beside Ryan's blue Supra.

Earlier that day

Ryan was just returning back from a meeting that some would say was marginally important. Of course, many would argue it was of more importance than most would understand. Psychosis was known more in the Supra/Viper/Porsche rings of Imitora. The 2JZ, Mopar V10, and Porsche Flat 6 were the main play ground for the group. Ryan claimed he could tune anything, however, but had also secretly sent a not so small sum of cash to another Imitoran tuner, Angry Triangle Tuning, to have a well done FD3S show up in his garage upon his return.

However, there was one car he would not be dead last in picking up. MINE'S already had theirs, but it was just twisty bits. It would say much in the Imitoran tuning scene when Ryan rolled out the first high power R35 before NIAS, the Skyline tuners in Imitora, could. It could be said that the meeting had gone well, and both the French and Japanese representative had been most open to Ryan's proposal. By the time he returned from the auto show, there would be a well balanced built FD3S in his personal driveway, and a 2008 GT-R in the Psychosis driveway.

However, it had been back to business. The people with too much money and too much time had begun to swamp Doc. His own twin turbo kit was a hit. Of course, anything offering single digit quarter mile times on a full interior, with the ability to turn down the boost and run lower grade pump gas that was common outside Imitora was bound to be. Very few nations outside the auto culture of Imitora considered 98 RON octane "low grade".

Ryan was wandering around his own display, in between the tarped car, Rays' Evo, and a Suzuki Hayabusa on hand, when he noticed the Balzonian doing much of the same. He quickly brushed off his sport coat, worn casually over an un-tucked crimson button down and jeans. Running a hand through his mop of brown hair to straighten it the best he could, he moved over towards Frederick, albeit in a professional and calm manner. He wasn't a used car salesman.

Ryan extended his hand in a friendly way, and smiled at Davidson.

"Hi, I'm Ryan. Can I help you with anything?"
___

That Night

Ryan toyed with an invisible knob somewhere in the compartment of the Supra while they waited. A few taps on a screen mounted against the center console, and he rolled down his window, sticking out his arm, and giving Rays the thumbs up. In response, a quick punch of the throttle, and the Mitsubishi barked out a flame, slamming against its rev limiter.

Ryan laughed, and rolled up his window as the red Viper rolled down a loading ramp and up with the small group. Rays slipped out of the Evo, and did a quick run to the other three cars, making sure he had all the right cell phone numbers. Last thing he wanted was to leave anyone to be separated.

Of course, that would be of the simple act of not paying attention. While Rob's car was the slowest of the group, none of the other members had any plan of taking much higher than their usual cruise speed of around 115. It was a good speed for them, let them have fun in traffic whilst scaring the locals, and also allowed what scenery they cared to watch be observed.

Ryan and Doc wouldn't exactly be lost either. The blue Supra was capable of speeds well past the second century mark should need be, and could find itself revving into the stratosphere. Doc's Viper, despite being equipped with a drag built TH400 was perfectly capable of cruising at comfy highway speeds. That, plus the twin turbos and the dual stage nitrous kit provided the Viper with the most horsepower of the group, as well as matching torque that put down enough foot pounds to reverse the earth's natural spin.

Rays was down on power on both Doc and Ryan, but AWD, a properly sized turbo, meth injection on a built 4G63, and the beloved Anti Lag system kept him up nicely, and actually put his quarter mile time at a bit faster than Ryan's mid nine second pass. The blue Supra was still sitting with the stock displacement 2JZ, and unlike the Black, Boosted, and Bad Ass MkIV that had been loaned out to the President of Toyota and the head of the MkIV design program, it just didn't have the needed torque provided by the 3.4L Stroker Motor. Both the Evo and the blue Supra would run in the nines, at least for fun. When Rays really wanted to put the hurt down, a flip of a switch on a boost controller, and a quick activation of a 125 wet shot of nitrous, and the little two liter four banger would make quick work of sport bikes and exotics. But then, Ryan was fully convinced that with a perfect launch, the Black Supra could easily hit that magical seven second pass on the six speed DIY cog swapper.

Rays checked his belt one more time, a quick look at the A pillar and steering column gauges, and then eased off the clutch and on the gas, leading the group out of the parking area. A few of the locals had followed in, and it didn't bother Ryan, Doc, or Rays much. The more the merrier. They just hoped that they could keep up at go time. Doc quickly fell in behind Ryan, who was tucked in just behind Rob in the Lotus. Rays kept pace up front, and a local sport bike group rounded out the rear of the local additions.

OOC: Harlan and Hoot post tomorrow

Earlier that day

Ryan was just returning back from a meeting that some would say was marginally important. Of course, many would argue it was of more importance than most would understand. Psychosis was known more in the Supra/Viper/Porsche rings of Imitora. The 2JZ, Mopar V10, and Porsche Flat 6 were the main play ground for the group. Ryan claimed he could tune anything, however, but had also secretly sent a not so small sum of cash to another Imitoran tuner, Angry Triangle Tuning, to have a well done FD3S show up in his garage upon his return.

However, there was one car he would not be dead last in picking up. MINE'S already had theirs, but it was just twisty bits. It would say much in the Imitoran tuning scene when Ryan rolled out the first high power R35 before NIAS, the Skyline tuners in Imitora, could. It could be said that the meeting had gone well, and both the French and Japanese representative had been most open to Ryan's proposal. By the time he returned from the auto show, there would be a well balanced built FD3S in his personal driveway, and a 2008 GT-R in the Psychosis driveway.

However, it had been back to business. The people with too much money and too much time had begun to swamp Doc. His own twin turbo kit was a hit. Of course, anything offering single digit quarter mile times on a full interior, with the ability to turn down the boost and run lower grade pump gas that was common outside Imitora was bound to be. Very few nations outside the auto culture of Imitora considered 98 RON octane "low grade".

Ryan was wandering around his own display, in between the tarped car, Rays' Evo, and a Suzuki Hayabusa on hand, when he noticed the Balzonian doing much of the same. He quickly brushed off his sport coat, worn casually over an un-tucked crimson button down and jeans. Running a hand through his mop of brown hair to straighten it the best he could, he moved over towards Frederick, albeit in a professional and calm manner. He wasn't a used car salesman.

Ryan extended his hand in a friendly way, and smiled at Davidson.

"Hi, I'm Ryan. Can I help you with anything?"


If there was anything that Frederick was it was thorough, one didn't get to be the CEO of a multi-national company by being lazy, he had done his research.

"Nice to meet you." Frederick extended his own hand and shook Ryan's hand once, a strong "I understand that Imitora has higher levels of octane in your fuel, than is available at home. What options are available and how much of a difference will the difference in octane levels make to performance?"

"

VLT Exhibit, 2nd level of TMZIA


The Van Luxemburgians would quickly notice, especially after noon on this opening day that the number of children inspecting the vehicles with unnerving thoroughness was unusually hig. When asked they discovered that there qwere two seperate groups, though there were a few cross overs. The first was the local equivallent of the American girl and boy scouts - this particular troop were mostly the children of the HeadQuarters Fire and EMS department personell and they had come to see the new equipment 6that their parents would be using shortly.

They were full of questions about the equipment. They listened to the answers and proved to be disciplines and very knowledgeable for their ages - they ran from roughly ten to about fourteen.

The other group wasn't such a pleasure to have around. They crawled all over the vehicles and asked lots of question but they also scooted under the vehicles and asked questions like "Have you seen any weird people from Bazalonia about?" or "Are you working witht he Bazalonians?"

They seemed to be searching from something though none were very forthcoming as to what. It was nearly seven p.m. before one young girl told them about the key hunt.

Rob followed Rays easily settling in behind him and head of Ryan. He didn't think he'd race tonight, he'd have more fun watching, and betting on his brother and the others. No, the Expo was putting on a well advertised rally over the next week and he thought that the Lotus would be perfect for handling the mountainous terrain here in these islands that were so like those of Japan, though on a slightly smaller scale. He'd been informed that the Japanese concerns were going to be entering the rally as well, with some of their more legendary drivers.

But he put that out of his mind, relaxing to enjoy the Lotus's superb handling as he wove in and out of traffic following Rays. The first part of the drive was a nearly new five lane either way straight-away that if they stayed on it would take them to HeadQuarters, the capital city. But once they got west of Liberty, the small city that had grown up to handle the major naval port and the International Aurport, they'd turn right - heading some ten miles north to Old Landing Road. It wasn't a road really, but a pair of parallel runways that were no longer used save in emergencies. They were both inter connected with several taxiways, and built to withstand the pressures of heavily laden bombers. They were also close to ten miles in length, perfect for what they needed, with good lighting systems.

The locals had long figured out how to tap a portable generatior into the lights, both the runway marker lights and the towering over-heads. They'd even rigged a light bar and timing trap.The government just looked the other way, as long as regular inspections showed the unused strips were still safe for vehicles. And no one did anything stupid. The locals all knew, and weren't shy about informing outsiders that if you got yourself killed or had to be Life Flighted out their hangout would vanish.

There was a larger than normal turn out - every one who could make it was therfe, and the girls were making sure that they got noticed as much as the cars did. A nearly carnival air was about and there were tubs of iced brew, an impromptu bar, a hot sound system, and cars of all sorts from the laughable to the stupidly fast were about. Ages ranged from just got their liscense teens to some of the TMZ's deadly serious 'quiet men' - people in Ryan and Doc's own line of work. and older. And there were any number of visitors from the Expo as well.

."-like this."

Rowan threw back her head and laughed, a full rolling laugh that belied her small stature as she walked along next to him. She looked up and spoke honestly. "No, not at all. I wanted to get to know you, away from your dad. And he may be a wonderful dad, and I do like him, but he's a little lacking in the sweetness catagory. I like men who are men, but with a sweet side to them."

She kicked the sand lightly, looking down now. "I also grew up a military brat, from families that have, despite our general contempt for governments, have generations of military service under our belts. But I'd like to meet men who are a little different."

Rowan explained further "I'm a singer, I make a very good living in the night clubs and a couple of independantly discs to my name. Nothing gone gold much less platinum, but still steady sales...and some times my family gets a little smothering. I'm the youngest of my generation, all but the youngest period.. Only Jonni Lea's and David's kids are younger than me and they're the next generation."

Josh gave Rowan a look, "Military brat? I couldn't have guessed." Naturally, he was sarcastic, but at the same time, she might have sensed a dislike for anything to do with the government. He had had too many run ins with the cops, and so far, most of them were just pompous assholes with nothing better to do than chase him around the southern realm of Tarlachia.

He thought about her singing, and stopping suddenly, he turned to her. "Sing something then. I'd like to hear you." He gave her a reassuring smile.

Rowan needed no encouragement to sing, it was a part of her soul. There was a throaty growl to it that could not but make one think of smoke filled rooms, the flash of a knife, the smooth fire of whiskey as it hit the belly. It was a voice made for torch songs, jazz and blues coming from a body that didn't seem big enough to contain it.

However she chose on of her international favorites. Hall om mig ( http://youtube.com/watch?v=SpyRZayFGug)...

Translation (http://www.freewebs.com/hallommig/)

I understand that Imitora has higher levels of octane in your fuel, than is available at home. What options are available and how much of a difference will the difference in octane levels make to performance?

Ryan nodded. "Yeah, we get a good spread, and it makes life about a hundred times easier when it comes to tuning. Pump gas is measured on RON standards, and we run 96, 98, and 100. Also, many stations can get C16 race gas out of the pump. A few more than a handful will let you do your own blends."

"Our government is actually not all that involved in business and such, not very regulating at all. However, they require all refineries in the nation to run at a 100% efficiency level. Failure to at least hit 90% usually nets very large fines, which are then given out to the refineries hitting their efficiency and production numbers. It nets us not only much much higher octane fuel, but also keeps prices low. 100 RON costs just around $2.10 a gallon."

"We also have special deals with some of the larger oil corporations, the biggest being with Shell."
___

The drive was quickly turned from a standard cruise to something a bit more exciting with the presence of the Imitorans. Rays and Doc vied for position up the highways, swerving in and out of traffic in order to get to the location at the best possible time.

At one point, Doc took the lead, and Rays and Ryan fell back. It took but a few moments, and the blue Supra and black Evo were far back, out of sight of most of the racers. Yet seconds later, they came back, roaring down an open straight, the Evo trailing the Supra by a marginal number of lengths, fire burping out the exhaust pipes with every shift as they rocketed towards two hundred plus mile per hour speeds.

It was just around an hour later when the large cruise rolled into the parking area beside the run ways. It was big, and the presence of many a show car of course brought out the wannabes. People who would, no doubt, be paying Ryan and Doc's bills for long periods of time after. Doc would use his usual tactic of picking on guys with girlfriend's or wives present, they were usually the last to turn down anything. Honor and all.

Ryan would just hang back, and let challenger's come to him. It was the way he always operated. Rays wasted no time, and he quickly made his way to the line of cars waiting to get drags in. A flip of a switch activated the Evo's anti lag, the car becoming louder instantly. Another switch clicked up the dump pipe, or screamer pipe, as the wastegate pumped excess exhaust gas directly out of the car. And a final switch opened out one last cut out, just mid way between the front and rear axles. He was ready for any takers at this point, and was looking to pull in some big money.

A moderate clapping was heard as Rowan finished. Josh stood there with a smile, nodding in approval. "I can see why you're making good money doing what you do. I'm sure it beats working as a waitress." He chuckled, "I wonder though, have you sought international connections for advertisement of your voice? I have a few friends who have connections to the right people in the right places to at least get you known in at least half of the region alone."

He shrugged, "Not to put any pressure on you, but if that's what you're looking for, you only need to ask. I'll make a few calls and it'll be in place because those guys owe me for the work I've done on their cars."

He looked out to the waters lapping the black sanded shores. "And on that note, I think my stomach is about to do one of those Alien things...explode from the inside out, snarling and eating my flesh. And, there's only one way to satisfy such a monster as that." He laughed, looking back to her to await her answer.

___________________________

Somewhere in the crowds, Lance stood with his arms crossed and his eyes seeking out the racers. It was a good match, but he had a strong feeling that the Imitorans were playing around with their opponents. The distant roar of engines, carried by the wind, met his ears and he knew immediately that they were only getting started.

He smiled to himself.

Rowan smiled. "I wouldn't know if it beats working as a waitress, as I never have. When the money's slow - many of the resorts don't do the winter thing, I teach skiing, or tend bar, but I mostly act as dealer in high stakes poker games. Yes, the oh so very illegal sort."

She turned with him to head back to the car. "I've got copies of my diswcs, if they want, it'd be nice to have a wider audience, but it's not on my critical list."

And on that note, I think my stomach is about to do one of those Alien things...explode from the inside out, snarling and eating my flesh. And, there's only one way to satisfy such a monster as that."

She laughed with him. "Lets go find the best steaks the locals have to offer. With a crisp ceaser salad and a big baked potato I'll be happy as a hog in a wallow."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Doc was easily able to find the coterie of young men with wives and skirts to impress, and knowing that they didn't dare turn him down in front of the ladies - they pooled their funds coming up with nearly 5 K and brought out their two best -they got bitchslapped by the Imitoran Serpent.

Their losses got them roundly hooted at.

Elsewhere a pair of Ferrari's sat with a tight knit group about them, and across the way a quad of Classic American Muscle sneered back at them

Rob had wandered around a bit, taking in the cars, but ignoring one group in specific. Eventually he wandered back next to Ryan. Standing so that he was facing Ryan, he kept his voice low. "Other than one or two independants I know, and those from Imitora, theres going to be only one group to try and make trouble for you. Valhalla Motorsports is our equivallent of Hoot's custom work and NAIS. Viktor Helwulf's (http://www.atddm.com/ro.jpg) damn good, or was, I don't think he's personally tuned anything in about three years, but he has more money than Rays to throw at things.

Indeed if Ryan had gone to look over the Tanaaran's set up at the Expo - it wasn't all that far from his exhibit - he would have probabaly been impressed despite himself. The Valkyra wasn't a Dominator, she was a lady, not a testosterone fest. And while she probably couldn't quite match one, in the right hands she would give a poorly driven Dominator a run for its life.

And her 'brother' the Thor, would definitely match and possibly exceed a Dominator, and it still rankled Victor's hyper competative soul that the 'damned Imitoran' had gotten his out first

]http://www.atddm.com/ccb1_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/ccb1.jpg) ]http://www.atddm.com/ccb2_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/ccb2.jpg) ]http://www.atddm.com/ccb3_small.jpg (http://www.atddm.com/ccb3.jpg)

http://www.atddm.com/cc12br2_small.jpg (http:/www.atddm.com/cc12br2.jpg) http://www.atddm.com/cc12br3_small.jpg (http:/www.atddm.com/cc12br3.jpg)

Rays had done little in the wya of work to quickly dispatch a handful of challengers. With a bit more boost and tuning, the Evo could likely make ease of race against all but the well built purpose dragsters. So far, he had seen nothing tonight.

To this point, Doc had been in the same boat. The measly five grand he had pulled was laughable, gas money as he had called it. The Viper had nowhere near opened up its full potential, Doc launching, and racing, soft against a group of ten and eleven second cars.

The two met up early in the night to discuss the situation. They had expected a bit more in the way of competition, at least something they would need to launch hard against. However, it hadn't come. Instead, they made plans to drive the point home. The Imitorans were in town, and here to race. The two split, Doc walking over to the group of Ferrari owners, Rays the muscle cars.

Ryan, on the other hand, maintained he rearward position. He simply observed everyone else running, and save for the occasional sport bike, saw little that would make him want to use the gas. While no where near as old school, as it were, as Doc and Rays, he still held a level of prerequisite before wasting the gas. A few of the Imitoran tuners and privateers that had shown up had gathered around Ryan, and the group began, as always, to talk shop. There was talk of new products, new racers, new cars. A few of them joked about, and one or two had made a challenge and went off to race. One of them, who also knew Ryan from his other job, was in charge of the group from Angry Triangles who would be building Ryan's FD. The two chatted when Rob came up, and turned over the information.

Ryan shook his head. "Always has to be a pissing contest. I'll be right back Steve."

Ryan made his way over to a group who seemed a bit more into show than go, introduced himself, and then asked to borrow the car. Just for a few seconds. When they obliged, he clamored on top of the hood, and then, much to the owner's dismay, onto the roof.

"Excuse me," he said, loud enough to be heard over the cars not to far off, and the music that had slowly started to level out in volume. "I'm sorry to interrupt your little car show here. Its not bad. Not great, but not bad either. I just need to ask you all a question. An associate of mine has informed me that someone named Vikktor Helwulf or Beowulf or Kitty Kat or something along those lines, is a mite bit miffed that I released my super car before him. Further, I believe he may be worried about the length and girth of his penis compared to mine, as he is, supposedly, gunning for me. Well, I need you all to do me a favor, and let little Victoria know that I'll be here for a good bit tonight, and if he wants me to look over any of his rides I'll be glad to do so for him. Thanks!"

Ryan smiled, offered a quick wave, and then leaped down from the roof of the car he had chosen to make the announcement from. He made his way back over to his own car, and shrugged.

"Fuck man," Steve said, crossing his arms. "You really know how to make new friends!"

Rob was trying hard to stiffle his laughter. "Ryan, I know you truly don't give a shit, but I ought to let you know that he's the Baroness's long time lover, reputable word has it that he's hung like a bull, and wants to marry my mom."

"And here he comes, a bit too angry to be his usually formal self I think" Rob turned away to flash Ryan a smirk.

Indeed the older gentleman - looking maybe in his early forties, but easily older than that with Prolong available to those in his economic set. Strode over with the long legged atheletic grace of a fencer or gymnast and the arrogant bearing of everything Imitoran's hated in an aristocrat.

"I am Viktor Helwulf and I believe that it was I, and my cars that you were insulting." He raised a hand and the Valkyra rolled over, one of his professional drivers behind the wheel.

Ryan, I know you truly don't give a shit, but I ought to let you know that he's the Baroness's long time lover, reputable word has it that he's hung like a bull, and wants to marry my mom.

Ryan chuckled in return. "Yeah, but in the morning, no matter who you are, we all put our driving shoes on one at a time. Well, not Rays, but he wears his like slippers and never tightens them, but thats different. And besides, you know they cut nuts off bulls and serve 'em up at festivals in Colorado?"

I am Viktor Helwulf and I believe that it was I, and my cars that you were insulting.

Ryan shook his head. His very air was that of everything Imitorans despised. As if he had bought his position, not earned it. Imitoran's had a saying about it, that it must be so hard being born into a ruling position, and not winning it.

"I think he thinks he's better than us," Ryan said back to Steve. "Lets just show this ponce ass wannabe how much better than us he is." Ryan strode over towards Viktor and the car.

"I agree," Steve said, stepping past Rob. "Lets just show him how much we do honor him and his position in life."

Steve came up from behind Ryan, swirling the cup of Starbucks he had picked up, and watched the car roll up slowly, driven by a professional driver. "Whats that matter bro, to much of a bitch to drive your own car?"

A collective "ohhhhh" rolled out of the crowd.

Ryan held up his hand, silencing Steve. "Now now Steve, we can't be so crass. We might hurt his feelings. Victoria, its a pleasure to meet you. Mind if we take a look at the car?"

Viktor begrudgingly let the two get closer. Ryan went check out the engine bay, Steve the interior. With the hood up on the mid engined car, Ryan leaned in close for a good look. His hands coming down on the fender emitted a spin tingling crunch. Ryan moved his hand to the side, and pulled it away, dragging out an equally painful sound.

"Ah shit, sorry man, forgot I had my keys in my hand," he faked, looking at the long series of primer deep scratching on the fender. He pocketed his keys, and leaned over the edge, peering into the engine bay.

Steve, on the other hand, took a good look at the interior. He crawled, rather haphazardly, over the upholstery, pulling and scuffing the leather. Oil and grease that spotted his jeans from earlier work on his shop's drag car now were transfered to the carpet. As he crawled back out, he clipped off the top of the Starbucks cup, and let it spill over the seat.

"Oh, shit man. My bad. Sometimes you just make mistakes," he apologized, emphasizing the last three words as he gave the coffee cup three hard shakes.

The two Imitorans stepped back. "Well, I guess it looks ok, but nothing to write home about."

Victor knew that those had been no accidents and his voice was coldly clear and carrying.

"Trust the Imitoran's to be so lowclass and pety as to damage a man's vehicle and try and scoff it off as an accident."

Many in the crowd agreed with him, considering it rather punkish of Ryan and Steve to damage a car liike that. Many turned away, ignoring the two Imiutoran's, going back to their own groups to mingle.

TMZ hadn't been a country long, and it's car culture was nothing anywhere near Imitora's but they all took pride in their cars.

"Leave it to a Tanaaran to be to stupid to understand sarcasm," Steve quipped back.

"No, Steve, he's right," Ryan said. "Lets apologize." He turned to the trained driver. "Sorry man, I was being stupid."

The driver looked at him funny, and shrugged. "Its not my car," he said.

"Wait, so if it isn't your car, but your driving it, then whose car is it. If it doesn't belong to the person driving it, then that means this car doesn't have an owner," Steve laughed. "Oh wait, thats right, leave it to a Tanaaran to not have the balls to drive their own car!"

Another collective "ohhh" piped out from the crowd. Ryan and Steve shrugged.

"Just another wannabe super car," Ryan sighed, walking away. Steve followed.

"Thats it man?" Steve whispered. "You've torn down people half of what he is."

"Exactly," Ryan said. "He's your standard punk ass. He wants everyone to pay attention to him, but he'll never admit it. I saw the engine bay, the car is a piece. I'd put any of my Supras up on it any day. It looks flashy. If he wants to pull this professional driver bull shit, then Rays can call up his dinner buddy, Herr Schumacher. And I ain't talking 'bout Ralph, either."

Steve nodded. "We need to get Mike back to Imitora for another cruise and track day. I swear, you could put that guy in a Civic and he'd run circles around any car out there."

The two returned to their earlier perch, and someone who had run up with a tire tote was waiting for them. Ryan looked at Rob, and grinned. "Hope your ready to step up," he said, taking the large nylon bag.

Steve made his way over to one of the rotary Mazda's his crew had brought, and clamored to the roof. Once again, an Imitoran interrupted the lull in the crowd. Even the few they had turned off with their stunt would want to pay attention to this.

"'Scuse me. I need ya'lls attention. My bud Ryan and I have a little event we'll be sponsoring. Nothing big. Once a month back home, the tuning houses all get together and run a midnight madness. A way to give back to the community, if you will. We'll, Angry Triangle Tuning and Psychosis Motorsports will be doing so, right here, right now. Its the same way we run it back home. One round knock out, quarter mile drag. No clocks, no timing lights, no burn out boxes. You get up to the line, flagger drops his arms, you go. First one to the headlights down there wins. You line up, you race, you loose, you leave. You win, you head to the back of the line and get ready to roll again. Its a thousand dollar buy in. You fuck up, you miss a shift, you hit the nitrous wrong, too bad. You wanna buy back in, its two grand. Third buy in is your keys."

Ryan walked up to the car, and tossed Steve the tire tote.

"We'll be keeping the cash in here. Same with the keys. My boy Kevin here will be holding the bag. He has a bolt on RX8 with the plate 13RNSYS. He's slow, so you don't need to worry about him running." He fished a wad of bills out of his pocket, and dropped it in the bag. Ryan tossed up a similar wad, and it two went it. "We already have two grand on the line. But we are gonna sweeten it up a deal."

Ryan pulled a set of keys out of his pocket, and dropped them in the tote. "Keys to my 'Vette. C5 Zed Oh Six with a New Owl Customs Four Fifty Four V8, dual stage nitrous. Seven hundred ponies at the rear wheels. Torque to match."

Steve then tossed in his own set of keys. "1994 Eunos Cosmo, 20B-REW three rotor, mild street port, custom twin turbo set up. Its got a slush box, but makes one hell of a high way cruiser."

It took only moments before every Imitoran in the crowd stepped forward, dropping in their cash. Doc and Rays held back, they had their own fish to dry. Still, it totaled fifty thousand dollars, plus two cars. If it played out anything like it would in Imitora, they would have at least one hundred and fifty thousand before the first cars lines up. By the end of the night, the grand prize total was usually several sets of keys, and several hundred thousand dollars.

Steve turned to the crowd one last time.

"Remember what they used to say at Woodward. Money talks and bullshit walks."

He then turned and headed for one of the rotary powered Mazdas his crew had brought.

Rowan smiled. "I wouldn't know if it beats working as a waitress, as I never have. When the money's slow - many of the resorts don't do the winter thing, I teach skiing, or tend bar, but I mostly act as dealer in high stakes poker games. Yes, the oh so very illegal sort."

She turned with him to head back to the car. "I've got copies of my discs, if they want, it'd be nice to have a wider audience, but it's not on my critical list."

And on that note, I think my stomach is about to do one of those Alien things...explode from the inside out, snarling and eating my flesh. And, there's only one way to satisfy such a monster as that."

She laughed with him. "Lets go find the best steaks the locals have to offer. With a crisp Caesar salad and a big baked potato I'll be happy as a hog in a wallow."

Josh smiled, "You're my kinda woman, steaks and potatoes. Not that whole," he flung his hands up somewhat daintily, "I'm a vegetarian" crap."

The car revved to life, and moments later, they were peeling out into the road again. Soon enough however, they came upon a steakhouse and pulled in.

Once inside, they had eventually made their order, and were sipping their drinks of choice. Conversation had been comfortable. Rather, it felt like a meeting of friends than a date, but then again, that was how Josh was perceiving it. He couldn't say the same for Rowan.

"High stakes gambling eh? What's the usual buy in?"

Victor smiled at the Imitoran's obliviousness. One man couldn't drive two cars, and Victor had both the now damaged Valkyra and the Thor here. So of course one hired the best available and let them handles the less of the cars. He hadn't been about to let the damned Imitorans get a look at the Thor.It'd be a waste of time to challenge the uncouth ass to a duel so Victor just signaled tothe driver and headed off to where he and his compatriots had set up, not looking back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hope your ready to step up,"

"Put in for two" came a feminine voice that spun Rob around

"Mom!" He exclaimed happily, sweeping his mother up into a brief hug. Looking about he saw Sinjin sliding out of a Dominator and into the Orion driven by Khadri. And he also saw the Hexx beside the deep crimosn Psychosis beast and frowned. "That's..."

"It WAS" Mercy interupted with an entirely too evil grin "The Crown confiscated it as abandoned. And here toss these into sweeten the pot." She handed him the Keys to the blood hued supercar.

She turned to Ryan and gave him a smile "Looks like fun tonight but you'd better warn your friend, he's going to eat those words about Tanaarans not having the balls to drive their own cars."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rays headed over to the Classic American Muscle to find that up close was much different than at as distance. The foursome were Team Foxtrot XRay, one of seven TMZ teams that were part of the newly formed FTR-ORSCA ( Fatal Terrain Regional -Outlaw Racing Street Car Association.)

"We hadn't planned on racing tonight, might blow our accreditation." One siad regretfully. "Ron Capps is coming down next month to give a special course, and we've already paid for that."

"But boy could we use the money." One of the youngest he was only in his mid twenties while the others were in their mid thirties - they were all part of TMZ's Special Ops unit- looked regretfully over at the line that had formed at the sports bag as nearly sixty non Imitoran's had clustered around to toss in their buy in.

Rays just shook his head.

"Accreditation? I came over here looking for a race with you, not a bunch of babies who are worried about a piece of paper. Of course, I should have expected as much. Seems that no matter where I go, no one can race an Imitora. To scared."

He turned away as he heard the younger speak up.

But boy could we use the money.

Rays spun on his heel. "Well then, lets run. I'll match whatever any of you put down dollar for dollar that my Evo is faster than what any of you put up."
___

Looks like fun tonight but you'd better warn your friend, he's going to eat those words about Tanaarans not having the balls to drive their own cars.

"Well," Ryan shrugged, "Steve has been racing as long as any of us, and he has always seen it to the contrary. Of course, I guess he's always open to seeing to the opposite."

Kevin walked up, and took the cash and keys, dropping them in the tote. He went back to collecting the money being handed out by cars lining up. A black Porsche 930 Turbo rolled up to him as well, dropping in a wad of cash, and then headed to the lines.

"Well fuck me," Ryan swore under his breath. "Matty is coming out tonight. Shit, we are in for a treat."

He turned from the Tanaarans, offering a wave, and headed over to the blue Toyota.

The brap brap brap of Steve's bridgported single turbo rotary pierced the night air as it rolled up to the line. The drag car waited off to the side, only to come out later in the night for the one on one high dollar runs.
___

The word made way quietly but quickly through the crowd about a possible wild ass rumor, dirty lie, or internet half truth. Whether it had started as a comment about a comment or other wise, it was unknown. However, it would be made information back to Helwulf and his crew that if a dual was wanted, the challenge would be accepted.

Ryan did nothing to quell any word that the Imitoran would gladly teach the Tanaaran a lesson that involved a supersonic hunk of metal right between the eyes.

Well then, lets run. I'll match whatever any of you put down dollar for dollar that my Evo is faster than what any of you put up."


"Who knows but on any given Sunday...We'll take ya on." The oldest - and least spoken until now said quietly. He was the team leader and official mother hen of the group to boot. He knew just about to a dollar what each of his guys had in their bank accounts. "We can cover ten large each." It was more than most of then would be comfortable with but wouldn't leave any of them broke And he was the one that knew that his men were getting year end bonuses shortly.

"I'm Jeff Wanatabe, and you're Rays Garret, one of the Imitoran's out causing trouble" But his lips held a small smile and there was not sting in his voice, just amusement. "You guys are a hoot."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mercy gave Rob a wink and headed over to the Hexx as Rob just shook his head with a smile. His mother would make some lucky man a handfull of a wife, if she could find some who didn't get assassinated on her.

He slid behind the wheel of the Lotus and rolled up to then end of the growing line behind the Porsche, and Mercy falling in behind him..

"Yeah," Rays replied, smirking. "A real hoot. Not being afraid to race with out a piece of paper saying its ok to do it."

He took a look at the group of muscle cars. Besides an Impala that looked quick, nothing all that special really set him off. They had the track cars out, but he shrugged off those. Some people went nuts over big block V8s. Rays was putting out the same, if not more, horsepower than the big blocks present, with four cylinders, two point three liters, and one turbo. That, and like most Imitorans, he just looked at the cars as toys for track weenies.

"Alright. Ten a piece? Makes forty by my count. I'll bite. Who wants to loose first?"

Rays was talking big, but he had earned it. The motor sitting in the Mitsubishi was based off the AMS 1000hp set up that had first rocked drag strips but a few years back. Air came flowing in through a Psychosis built, resonance tuned carbon fiber intake. That incoming air was then compressed to fifty two pound per square inch through the Garrett Ball Bearing GT45R Turbo. That air was pumped into a Psychosis Motorsports built 2.3L Stroker 4G63, supporting a Cosworth high flow head and HKS 272 bump sticks. AEM handled the fuel flow with 1000cc injectors managing to feed the chambers with all the go juice it needs. Also being plumbed into the cylinders was a methanol injection kit to keep the combustion mixture nice and cool, while bumping up the octane of the already super stable C16 tune. The air was kept cool by a custom AMS front mounted intercooler, with full stainless steel hard piping through the engine bay. The combustion mixture post spark was excavated through a stainless steel exhaust manifold, and then came to one of two options. For regular street driving, it went through the wide open four inch titanium exhaust, tipped with an Apex'i universal muffler that Ryan had padded for tone control. For this race, a three inch electric cut out would dump the exhaust no more than two inches past the front axle.

The entire system was controlled, like all the fast ones, by an AEM Standalone engine management computer, and boost pressure and the Air Fuel ratio were both monitored by AEM gauges. Boost pressure was controlled by a 50mm TiAl wastegate, hooked up to a true screamer pipe. Preventing surge was an HKS SSQV, vented to the atmosphere. Needless to say, the car was loud.

Power got put through to all four wheels through a carbon fiber driveshaft, and beefier axles held up to the sudden stress. The six forward gears were handled by a Shepherd Racing fully built transmission. Forward motion was handled by the buddy club light weight wheels holding on to super sticky Micky Thompson ET Streets. With all the above working in true precision, the Evolution spun the rollers to the tune of one thousand and fifty four all wheel horsepower. For those who cared about slips, it traveled the length of the quarter mile in just over eight and a quarter seconds, coming to that quarter mile mark at around one seventy five.

It was legitimately fast.

The interior was nothing to write home about, Rays had a garage full of Ferraris, a custom turbo'd Lexus, and a Range Rover for all of that. However, the interior hadn't been too worked over. The stock seats had been left alone, yet the rear seats had been tugged, and a piece of fiberglass kept the contents of the trunk in there. The radio, and therefore speakers, had all been tugged out, with tasteful carbon fiber cover ups sitting in their place, keeping the holes concealed. Rays had also had the A/C pulled, but the car rarely came out during the day, and wasn't his daily driver, so it had been fine for him. Otherwise, it was stock. Save for a custom front bumper to hold the larger FMIC, the outside was much the same, along with a paint matched Carbon Fiber hood.

"So, we have ten miles of runway here. They can have their midnight madness run, and we can find ourselves somewhere nice to roll."

"So, we have ten miles of runway here. They can have their midnight madness run, and we can find ourselves somewhere nice to roll."

Jeff nodded down towards the far end, but to the parallel runway. "Step into my kingdom said the spider to the fly" as he slid behind the wheel of a powder blue AMX.

The Impala might look fast but the AMX was their hold out piece and was every bit as fast as Rays Evo, or so Jeff hoped. What he especially wasn't sure of was his driving skills against the Imitoran.

One of the others roared ahead, A classic GTO in the traditional 'big bad orange' sent first to 'get some things ready'. Sedately the rest of the group - the Impala, a GNX, the AMX and Rays - puttered past the Midnight Madness staging area and on to a taxiway and down to the far end of the western runway, as more lights came to life at their destination. Revealing a small bowser truck, staging lights, timing boards, an ambulance and a couple of battered hmmvvs. Rays might note that there were markings at the fourth and eigth mile marks, as well as the full mile.

Once there Jeff sauntered over to Rays Evo. "I think you'll smear us, but why don't you take on Danny and the GNX first - or since the runways wide enough what about all five of us at once? Ten is asleep in the 'lance I can wake him up and have him be our starter"

'No I'm awake the damn goat howling up woke me." Said an American accented voice in the night. Jeff looked up and over towards the ambulance and shrugged a small apology. "Thats what you get for sleeping on the job. Noisey neighbors."

The unseen man just laughed "Yeah I'll flag for ya if you want."

"Man," Rays said, slipping out of the Evo, "you must really want to make this quick if you wanna go five wide."

He gave a quick look over the line of cars, and shrugged. The AMX might be quick, if it would start when it hit the line, and the GNX could be a might bit fast. Still, it was little for him to worry about. Most track racers were far to concerned with pegging the tree, and weren't to worried about the big end. Most of the outlaw class he saw were running on drag trannies that did all the shifting for you, leaving him little to worry about in the top end of the race. Down low, well, he wondered if any of these guys had seen what an eight second all wheel drive car launched like.

He reached into the car, and flipped two switches. The first activated the electric cut out, dumping the exhaust gas instantly out the four inch stainless steel down pipe. The second activated the AEM initiated anti-lag system. Suddenly, the already aggressive idle turned into the sound of the car at mid throttle. The tach would show the same, as fire popped out of the cut out every other second.

Rays just smiled, and walked around to the back of the trunk. The anti-lag was hell on the turbo, but he would make continuous boost, and see the full 52psi all the way through the race. Opening the trunk, he dug around for a few seconds before coming up with a rather plain brief case.

"Yeah, your boy can flag us. And who holds the money?"

"Ten this is Rays Garrett, Rays this is Travis Tenkiller (http://www.atddm.com/tnt.html)." Jeff introduced the newcommer. "And no, we don't have to do it all at once. Take Danny" That was the GTO "and Henson" That was the GNX "first, and then we can do me and Paul.

"Yeah, your boy can flag us. And who holds the money?"

"I can do that, if you'll let me put my haul up." A tall busty blonde (http://www.atddm.com/punkin.htm) called out as she strode into the lit area, a large and obviously heavy white sack held out at arms length in one hand and a long crook ended pole in the other. Her accent too was American, but not the western of Ten's, no this was southern but not the mountain southern Rays had heard from the Pettimores, but rich as peach cobbler Georgian steel magnolia and moonlight in the garden of good and evil.

"I shoudda known you'd be out here if Ten were here O'Dare." Jeff muttered with a frown.

"Hey I'm keeping your asses from getting bit and doing the local ecology a favor." The knockout - even with her hair pulled back into a barely restrained, wrist thick ponytail, and hidden in a heavy coat, jeans and thick soled knee high hiking boots, one could she she had a figure built like a showgirls -

"And making yourself a small fortuen for free." One of the other guys - Henson- grumbled.

O'Dare walked up to the grumbler and offered him the sack. "Here, twenty five grand, and it's all yours" Her smile was pure evil.

Henson, a broad shouldered thirty year old with many a black ops under his belt backed up so fast he all but fell, his face going pale. "Ah.... No!" He yelped.

"Damn straight." The woman replied cheerfully as she turned towards one of the battered hmmvvs. "Be right back to hold your prize money." She called towards Rays.

Opening up the back of the nearer hmmvv she deposited the bag into a sturdy container and locked the vehicle back up again. She disappeared around the far side as Henson continued muttering under his breath. But that stopped abruptly as the sound of a motor engaging washed over them.

"Ah...fuck no" Jeff muttered as he recognised the engine by sound alone....It was an eerie sound amid the distant ruckus spewing from midnight madness back down the way. The faint idle of a Mustang that just doesn't sound quite right. When the white '95 Mustang drove around from the far side - where the bulk of the hmmvv's had hidden it it appeared to be a Cobra. "Shit thats where Pale Ryder disappeared to..."

"Freaking liar! He didn't wreck it, he lost it in that damn poker game." Henson and Paul said nearly in chorus, with nearly identical looks of disgust on their faces.

"Hell maybe we ought to back it against mister big and bad here." Danny of the GTO suggested.

"Hell no, I''ve never seen her drive." Jeff sighed and shook his head as the 'Stang pulled up off to one side and Punkin slid out from behind the wheel.

Forward motivation for the white 'Stang coupe came from a 260ci V-6 that used a factory Ford 3.8L cast-iron block. With a slight 0.030-inch overbore and a factory 4.2L crankshaft -3.74-inch stroke- the combination yielded an impressive displacement of 4.3 liters. An upgrade to Crower rods and Wiseco pistons was made once the guys at Sexton Racing in White House, Tennessee, balanced and blueprinted the rotating assembly and then buttoned up the short-block with a main girdle and matching stud kit. A custom-ground hydraulic roller now nudged the 12 valves 224/230 degrees at 0.050 at an undisclosed total lift. The Scorpion 1.72 rockers work with LS6 springs and Manley valves that span 1.840 and 1.575 inches across their stainless steel faces.

The stock lower intake manifold was ported and a custom sheetmetal upper plenum built to mount the Accufab 75mm throttle body. Mega-mondo 83-pound injectors got stuck with electrons by the original EEC computer with nothing more than a DiabloSport tune and a Pro-M blow-through meter. Centering around a Turbonetics T72, the custom turbo kit features ceramic-coated mild steel pipes that funnel all the exhaust energy into an 0.84 turbine housing. A 3-inch downpipe runs along the passenger side and into a Hooker Max-Flow muffler of equal size. A custom liquid-to-air intercooler, which uses two cores, is located within close proximity to the throttle body for enhanced turbo response and neat underhood appearance. When all these hard parts are called to task, this sucker cranks out 638 rwhp and 648 rwtq on race fuel and 30 pounds of boost. On pump gas and just 20 pounds of boost, the engine still makes 530 hp and 600 lb-ft at the wheels.
To build up boost on the line and to get to the ground as efficiently as possible, a C4 with a 4,000-rpm converter is used. This helps with driveability and has made this Mustang infinitely more reliable at that power level. A Gear Venders overdrive was put in and so the fuel mileage in the mid 20's range."

The street/strip nature of the car dictated a suspension that can handle the abuse of day-to-day driving and make those quarter-mile sprints as effectively as possible. To accommodate those needs, a QA1 tubular K-member with 175 lb/in coilovers wrapped around a pair of Lakewood 90/10s work wonders to shed weight off the front and to transfer what remains to the 8.8 that's packed with 3.31 gears, 31-spline Mosers, and an Easton diff. UPR double-adjustable upper control arms and solid lowers keep this Pony running straight and true no matter in what direction the steering wheel is pointed.

The only thing that shows the car is fast is the sumped tank and the cage.

Rays gave little in the way of attention to Punkin. It wasn't an insult, she just wasn't his type, and usually never let the more tender gender interfere with his racing. Of course, her Mustang was nice enough sound wise, though with those SN95 Mustangs, one could never be sure. After all, a bolt on SN95 GT would run into the low fourteens on a good day, but most of the serious fast Mustangs were SN95s.

Rays shrugged. "I'll race anyone. If she has the cash, she can run."

He clicked open the brief case, and pulled out the money in cash. "Forty thousand." He handed it to O'Dare, and walked back over to the Evo. It had been idling long enough so that everything was sitting properly at its operating temps, and he eased off the clutch and up to the starting line. Each time he let off the gas, the bark of flame and popping exited out the electric cut out, the anti lag keeping the turbo at spool.

The Goat and GNX lined up next to him, each giving a proper quick burnout, nothing more than a quick spin to clean off the tires. At least they knew well enough to not do a full smoker, and burning off the warm end of the rubber. It wasn't needed on the street.

The American flagger moved up, and checked to make sure each was ready. The locals kept the gas on, but Rays seemed to rev way high. He was holding the motor at the four thousand mark, and with good reason. There was no such thing as slipping the clutch or feathering when it came to launching a car like his.

The two muscle cars took off with excellent launches, but the Evo was something different. Some had commented that watching a truly fast All Wheel Drive car was a thing of beauty. Some even borderline religious. Even if it were hyperbole, it was not something to scoff at. Even though it was light, either of the locals big blockers roared off with a bit of spin as the rear rubber fought for grip. The Mitsubishi did no such thing.

Rays eased off nothing. He dumped the clutch, just lifting his foot off letting it out as fast as it would engage. At the same time, he mashed the gas down, hard. The Evolution rocketed forward, no wheel spin, but off like a bullet. The rear end squatted ever so slightly, and it was gone. At just over the eight second mark, Rays made little work of the two other cars. Although well built, the GTO was a ten second street car, and the Buick in the nines. At these speeds two seconds was an eternity, and damned near a zip code.

The Evo crossed the end line first, with a good distance between his car and the Buick, and ever more with the Goat. With little fan fare or sight, the Mitsu rolled around in a lazy turn, and eased back up to the starting line.

"I'm hoping that you and Paul are at least in the eights to make this a bit closer."

Punkin had laid the briefcase on the hood of the 'Stang and rested an elbow on it as she watched the three line up. Like the others there she hollered at the lauch. Had to admit it was a heart pumper but she liked other pasttimes better.

Jeff just could do nothing more than wrestle with sheer envy.

I'm hoping that you and Paul are at least in the eights to make this a bit closer."

"It'll be close between you and me." he reassured Rays. The AMX and the Impala were waiting, as was the flagger. The two who'd lost had sworn in anger but they were really more interested in watching Rays launcn than bring pissed.

"Maybe we ought to go to Imitora for a few lessons" Danny laughed ruefully

Lance watched as the first race was completed in seemingly no time. He had observed the muscle cars naturally, yet, he knew that the Evo was built better. To the Imitorans, faster was better, at all times. He turned, pulling out his cell phone. It dialed, and a few seconds later, he spoke quietly. The call completed, he turned his attention to the mustang, noting the change in its pitch.

He turned his attention to the next race lining up to shoot, grinning as he saw the cars burn out momentarily. He like the Imitorans, liked how they religiously treated their cars, and respected their knowledge regarding them. He knew enough, but nowhere near the quality and richness of information that the Imitorans knew.

He pulled an envelope out of his pocket, and made his way to where Punkin stood near the starting line. He nodded to Rays, "Rays, See me when you're done. I've got a proposition for ya."

Jogging up to Lance, Jason halted, glancing once to the woman before looking at the Evo. "Nice..." he commented as he saw it up close. Granted, its secretive internal organs were closed off to view, but he had seen the race only moments before. He listened in on the ensuing conversation about this next race.

"High stakes gambling eh? What's the usual buy in?"

Rowan was relaxed, enjoying the good meal and the good company immensely. She'd never been big on dates, but this didn't really feel like a date, more like old freinds who hadn't seen one another in a while.

"The minimum is a hundred large, but with D.C. just a hop skip and jump away thats pocket change to those folks. I deal, watch for cheats, and provide really good secuirty, luxury surroundings, good food and a top class bartender. I refuse to provide 'companionship', but if they bring their own, whatever makes then want to play cards. And the big draw? I let them smoke." Rowan chuckled. "And they know if they bring drugs even once they'll never be allowed back again."

She pulled a small sliver flask out of her purse. "Try this, though I'll warn you it has a real kick."

From the distance the group stood back, the flames and sparks licking out the tarmac from the open exhaust were clearly visible. The Evo idled away, popping off bits of excess, unburnt fuel as Rays waited for the next to racers to line up.

It was different this time, in staggering. Rays kept off to one side, letting the two locals race side by side. Again, he brought the motor up to speed, easing the tach around the forty five hundred rpm mark, and held it there. He forwent any formal burn out, just holding the throttle right where he wanted.

Ten took his spot in front again. This time, Rays would give them a good show.

Most drag racers did the same thing, going on the hands or wrists. Some were smart, and looked at the elbows. Rays had soft launched last time, but this time the Imitoran was going to give the locals a true and proper beating. He kept his eyes focused square on Ten's shoulders, his HIDs lighting up each movement clearly.

There was the slightest flinch.

In the time it took Ten's hands to catch up with his shoulders, Rays was already clean off the clutch and hard on the gas. The wheels gave nary a chirp as all four gripped down on the concrete, hooked, and propelled the Evo forward. The Impala fell back with little work, the AMX holding to the slightest car length.

Rays hit each shift hard, banging the stick into place, forgoing any idea of easing the clutch. He didn't put on the extra stress of a no lift shift, he didn't need to with the Anti Lag. Even with his foot off the gas and the clutch disengaged, the motor kept sucking in gas as if it were at throttle, the excess gas combusting early, and flowing out the near permanently open exhaust valves, keeping the turbo spooled. Each shift was met with an appropriately large ball of flame exploding out from underneath the Mitsubishi.

The Impala was of little match. It was a seriously fast car in the high eights, but in this level, a tenth of a second was more than eternity. The AMX fought hard, struggling to keep its nose at least matched up to the back bumper of the pocket rocket, fighting to keep forward momentum matched.

It was of little match. The wailing of the massive turbo charger and the force fed motor would make one thing that it wasn't an engine driving wheels, but a propeller pulling the car forward. Just a shade over eight seconds later, the Evo literally slammed forward across the line, all but pulling the tarmac with it. A close inspection would show that at the launch line, small pieces of the tarmac indeed had gone with it. The AMX was close, but not first. It crossed the line a heart beat and a hair more than a car length back after the Evo. The Impala trailed by another three.

The Imitoran did nothing but offer a small grin to himself, and flip closed the exhaust cut out, and disengage the anti lag. He circled around, and lazily let the Evo roll back to the starting line at a leisurely pace.

Rays stepped out and pocketed the keys to the Evo, even though it still ran. The turbo timer would let fresh oil get into the system before letting the car shut down. It took all of ten seconds before the Mitsu was quiet.

"Close enough. To bad no checks in the "V" column. Maybe next time."

"Close enough. To bad no checks in the "V" column. Maybe next time."

Jeff was fairly philosophical about it. "I think we're just glad we aren't facing off with you all the time. You ever thought of doing a class, or a seminar?"

"Well bless my soul!" Was Punkin's comment as she watched the launch and shaking her head. When Rays came over to collect his winnings She introduced herself "Mr Garret, I don't think we got introduced proper. I'm Punkin O'Dare."

She too was interested in hearing if he taught. And would he drive the 'Stang and tell me what he thinks of it? she wondered to herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Willow looked at the Red Moon logo on the key chain and frowned. It meant something but she had no idea what. The number was one she certainly didn't recognise, it was nothing in the US or Canada, or Japan, or Britian. Those she knew. And the address was one she certainly didn't know either. It wasn't in a country she knew any one in...or did she. Something kept niggling at the back of her mind.

She'd gotten the nurses to help her sit up, propped up with lots of pillows and now few clicks of the morphine pump. She slowly reached for the phone and dialed the number on the keychain.

Rays nodded.

"Yeah. I have a seminar you could say. Every Saturday from eleven pm to about three am, main parking area of I121E out of Northampton. Best way to learn is not by reading or watching, but by doing."

"I can't take credit for those launches, its an all wheel drive car. Its what they do. And the car itself is built well. The driving part? Well, practice. That, and I had a good teacher."

Rays offered only sage like nod, before collecting the money and turning away. "Miss O'Dare, the pleasure is mine." He offered a polite bow, and accepted the winnings graciously. He made it about half way back to his car, when he turned and placed the briefcase on the ground.

"Mere pennies to the pound. All I wish to take away from this is a good and honorable fight." He left the money on the ground, making his way over to Lance.

"You rang, Mr. Freeman?"
___

Hoot didn't want to leave the hospital, but he knew he had too. Rules were rules, and the Marine in him wouldn't have otherwise. Recon or not.

He made his way first back to the Expo, checking on cars, speaking with potential customers, and showing off some of his driving skills around an auto cross course that had been set up. He even offered a few demo drives in a Porsche he had customized. However, at the end of the day, even he couldn't stay away from the races.

He hadn't brought any of his "fast" cars, save for the single M3 that was waiting for its driver. Instead, he rolled up in one of his Orions, the heavily customized sedan based on the BMW 7 Series. His of course, had a few more go fast bits, including a remapped ECU, ITG Filters, and slightly more open exhaust. He wouldn't be partaking in the races himself, and instead decided tonight to just watch.

"Nope, we can't take that money - We didn't win it. Though if you don't want it we'll donate it to Orphas Fund in your name. We do thank you for letting us watch some kick ass launches." Jeff Wanatabe replied as his team nodded in agreement.

"But next year we may see you in Imitora. I'd say sooner but we're going out on a contract in a week." The Spec Ops team leader and his team would not make that rendevous. They would die in intense city fighting in a nation that would betray them - figuring mercinaries had no real value. The result of that betrayal would be a very thorough glassing by TMZ of said nation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Midnight Madness

Mercy and Rob had won their first two races, but the odds that they would come up agains one of the Imitorans were becomming less and less - and the Imitorans were wiping all their competetors, Particularly the black Porsche 930There was a fair number of people buying back in, though no one was dumping pinks in yet.

"High stakes gambling eh? What's the usual buy in?"

Rowan was relaxed, enjoying the good meal and the good company immensely. She'd never been big on dates, but this didn't really feel like a date, more like old freinds who hadn't seen one another in a while.

"The minimum is a hundred large, but with D.C. just a hop skip and jump away thats pocket change to those folks. I deal, watch for cheats, and provide really good secuirty, luxury surroundings, good food and a top class bartender. I refuse to provide 'companionship', but if they bring their own, whatever makes then want to play cards. And the big draw? I let them smoke." Rowan chuckled. "And they know if they bring drugs even once they'll never be allowed back again."

She pulled a small sliver flask out of her purse. "Try this, though I'll warn you it has a real kick."

Lifting the flask to his eyes, Josh gave her a smirk, "Last I checked, it was still illegal to do this in America." He lifted it and poured a small amount into his throat.


And shook his head. "More power to ya though." He settled the matter with another sip from the flask.

*****************

"You rang, Mr. Freeman?"

Lance met Rays arrival with an outstretched hand, in his opposite hand, he held the envelope, but this stayed at his side. He surveyed the man a moment, as he spoke, "This might come as a shock to you, but although I have established myself in the muscle car class quite well, I want to satisfy my curiosity. I'm looking for a custom made car, the best to be made. To give definition to the word 'fast', and kick ass doing it. I don't care what era vehicle or any of those details. I just want to see what Imitorans can make when money is no issue."

That said, he handed Rays the envelope. Inside, was also a letter, a bit more formalized than what he had just spoken. Wrapped in the folded letter was a brief bank statement that showed a lot of zeroes. Clearly, Lance held a rather sizable account; the result of his saving and investment options, as well as income from his business and the winnings from the occasional race.

More power to ya though."

Rowan smiled. "Well we aren't in America last I looked, and according to the information package on TMZ it's not illegal here. So why weapons of war? Why not new medical devices, or starships, or rings of telepathy?" She asked, her tone light but honestly curious as well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Willow looked at the phone with a bewhildered frown, never having heard a 'Not in Service' message quite like that before. Then looking at the key ring again, she realized that she had misdialed the number. She didn't care for being on strong pain meds, though she well knew how useful they were. Most people didn't realize that pain actually harmed the healing process, and could short circuit the brain, but being fuzzy in the head just wasn't that fun.

She had depended all her life on her senses being as sharp as possible and this floaty sensation was not one she liked. Carefully she dialed the number again, making sure it was correct this time and was rewarded with it actually ringing on the other end. She wondered who would she reach.

However neither the Tanaarans or the Imitorans had yet run against the local badest of the bad. Much to the locals disappointment they'd been the ones facing of a snorty little track terror that regularly ran in the low 7's. It was an unassuming looking 1970 SS Chevelle that had been extensively modified and was considered the local 'reigning king".

It's owner and driver rarely raced any more - he was a large and jovial Polynesian that had been - as his commanding officer joked and he belly laughed at - had been hired as part of their tank division - "not to drive a tank but to be one"- he was big and burly but surprizingly agile. He stood over six foot seven and was a solid three fifty five of pure muscle. He'd stopped racing mostly becuase it made him feel bad to make others feel slow. But Joe'd been called by too many of his friends to say not to them, and was enjoying himself immensely.

Whats under the hood...

GM Bowtie Pro Stock Block started its run through a complete tear down and inspection, cleaning the block and looking for any damage that may have been hidden. Into the boring machine, it was now going to get a .100 overbore bringing the cubes up to 565. After an align hone, decking, and installation of new receiver grooves were machined, the block was on the table for its assembly. A thorough inspection of the 4340 forged crankshaft revealed no damage and it was polished and rebalanced with the rest of the reciprocating assembly and was first to go into the ready to build block. Sitting on the Clevlite 77 bearings the crankshaft had the billet Main caps torqued down. The Manley Super 70 billet rods were mated to the new JE full floating Nitrous pistons that had received vertical and lateral gas porting and the rings installed that are one of many secrets to keeping cylinder pressure at it's highest under large nitrous loads. The solid roller Cam of unspecified grind (of course) was slid into its place and a double roller timing chain was added to the front with a heavy duty cam walk button. Why no belt drives or gear drive you ask? Seems as though the money and uses for these have their benefits on other engines, but not this one. It will need no "on the spot" cam adjustments from a belt drive as this is a proven combination over the years, a gear drive simply isn't as forgiving on a nitrous engine either. The heavy duty oil pump and pickup were the finishing touch as a new Moroso Aluminum Competition Eliminator series Oil pan was tightened down finishing off the short block with a Billet SFI balancer.

The heads also were given a thorough going over - The Dart 360 Series head had already been ported and polished but with the new overbore and the extra time they had some more areas to pull out power from them. The exhaust side received the most attention and more flow was found immediately because of the larger bore that was there now all the characteristics of these heads changed to enhance both sides. The rest after the clean up was typical of just refinishing the seats and checking the straightness. They are then bolted down using newer and thicker Corteco Copper gaskets, and ARP studs. Filling the bronze guides is a new set of 2.30 Manley Titanium valves on the intake side and 1.95's on the exhaust wrapped by Comp Cams Valve springs, retainers and locks. Above all of this rests a new set of standard ratio full roller Crane Gold series rocker arms, held in check with a Crane stud girdle. Motioning the rockers is a set of Crower roller lifters and Comp Cams pushrods, all this cool stuff gets covered by a set of custom sheetmetal valve covers.

Now with the complete long block finished the combination is starting to take shape, The Edelbrock Super Victor / Wilson CNC port matched intake was put on the top of the engine with a full dual stage nitrous array of NX Shark foggers flowed by Jeff Prock at Applied Nitrous Technologies. Fuel will run through braided steel lines from a single Product Engineering pump and regulators from Holley, also supplied by Applied Nitrous Technologies, feeding a Pro Systems Holley 1150 dominator. The MSD Pro Billet distributor will get it's commands from an Aerospace crank trigger, MSD digital 7, and relay the spark through Crane 11.4mm Pure silicone wires to the Autolite AR133 spark plugs firing this huge charge of fuel and nitrous. Cleaning out the gases from the crank case and relieving pressure is taken care of with an Aerospace 4 vane billet vacuum pump. A full 16 volt system will trigger the Mini Starter to fire the mix, with a remote CSI water pump cooling things down and sending the spent fumes through a set of custom stainless steel headers that exit the heads at 2 1/4inches, step up to 2 3/8ths into a 5 inch collector and custom 6 inch outlet mufflers.

How it gets to where it has to go is the job of the Trans Specialties power glide. It features a 1.80 first gear and straight cut for maximum power handling on a Vasco input shaft with a Pro mod clutch drum containing 10 clutches. The Gearator front pump will add the fluid it needs in the environment of 1,500hp at this point and all is let loose by a Trans Specialties Big Dog Converter off the Trans brake.

The body has added capability to handle all the power that can be thron at it and six second times with a car of this weight. The 25.2 chassis is built from 1 5/8 .083 Chromemoly tubing throughout and is formed as a stand alone design.. The double frame rail is custom and similar to a Pro Mod in design. The front frame rails were the biggest concern and much consideration was taken into placement.

All of the pedals were custom made. The steering column and seat height were custom set and the engine had been mocked up and set to the specific height. The center transmission tunnel and drive shaft cage was large, in the fact that most of the tubing surrounding these components is the center that will transmit most of the force throughout the chassis and the forethought into making transmission changes and converter swaps had already been put into the design. The double frame rail design makes the chassis that much stiffer in the fact that "Flex equals horsepower loss" and the wheelbase is somewhat long - as with the stock 112 inches there will be a good bit of leverage transmitted to the rear tires to help plant all the power and carry the tires just inches off the ground while it still maintaining a comfort level and stability to keep it straight under acceleration.

The new CNC 9 inch housing had the axle tubes and Jerry Bickel 1/4 inch thick 4 link brackets, and extra bracing has been added to the assembly in a special jig that Joe has designed himself that housed the Strange Engineering Billet Ford 9 inch carrier and Spool that has proven itself under the extreme loads of 2.300hp plus Pro Mod power- he'd found that the 3.6 inch brackets were prone to failure under the massive amounts of horsepower and stress generated by his heavy car. Custom front 4 link brackets are used for the desired traction and handling aspect and were one of his own specialties and Koni double adjustable shocks provided the range of adjustment needed to sort this car out quickly and easily.


With a poor tune and overly worn wheels it did 7.78 and 178MPH. In tune with the proper gas, proper tires and it ran well into the low sevens, and could do even better.

Rays took a look at the envelope, and nodded. "I don't really build anything. Not my forte. I'm just an importer with alot of money and enough friends to get a car like mine built."

He looked back at the Evo, now sitting alone, resting in a calm light shined on from a runway lamp. It was almost photogenic.

He folded the papers gently, and stuck them in his back pocket. "I'll pass the info on to the right people, who'll get in touch with you."

With that, he bid Lance farewell, and moved quietly over to the Mitsubishi. With all the cutouts closed, and the more conservative tune in act, the car idled back over to the side lot next to the the Midnight Madness races. He would handle Lance's request as soon as a few Imitoran tuners present were free. It may have taken a while, but he could wait.
___

Not but one car in front of Rob's Lotus was the black Porsche. The 930 idled lazily, the only real evidence it had been modified at all was the single three inch, slant cut exhaust that was similar to the muscle car crowd. The builder had no choice with the rather unique turbo set up. Off course, proper sizing and placing let on nothing that the motor sitting over the rear axle of the Porsche wasn't the stock factory engine.

The car in front of Rob, a rather menacing looking '02 Camaro on slicks that had been wheel lifting all night stopped as it rolled up to the starting line. The window dropped, as did the window on the Porsche. An object of sorts was tossed across the open air, and the Camaro rolled off to the side, pulling away. The heavy idle of the Chevy pony car quieted as the flagger urgently waved Rob up to the line.

The Porsche gave off a single rev, and whilst there was no flame, the distinct scent of fuel wafted up from the exhaust pipe. The noise created from the motor was interesting at best from a Porsche, but then again, with the propensity of Imitorans to find a way to pull six hundred plus wheel horsepower out of damned near anything, even Rob couldn't be surprised.

There was most likely a single turbo, and yes, Imitorans quickly did away with catalytic converters and resonators and mufflers, but even a box six wouldn't be that loud, would it?

Rob shook his head, he'd seen the Porsche run and knew that unless fortune favored him, he'd get beat, but he didn't really care. He could buy back in for two grand and have more fun. "Ought make sure Ryan gets along side that...is that an V8 under there, it doesn't sound like a normal Porsche."

He also wanted to see the classic Chevelle roll a few more times. It had something interesting under the hood. But for now he let the world fade away, watching the flagger get ready. Rob did good launches, maybe not the best, but far better than merely acceptable and the Lotus liked him. And liked to run- hot, straight, and true.

Rowan smiled. "Well we aren't in America last I looked, and according to the information package on TMZ it's not illegal here. So why weapons of war? Why not new medical devices, or starships, or rings of telepathy?" She asked, her tone light but honestly curious as well.


"Weapons of war? Well...look at the history of our people. That Dark War did a lot more than just destroy just about everything we held dear. It's changed our national mentality to be in a constant state of readiness. We were caught quite unaware, but we'll be damned if that happens again."

He handed the flask back to Rowan, "Can't blame us though. Even though its been a number of years now since that war, I remember it when I was younger. I remember being forced to hide day and night, always wondering if we'd even see the sunlight again, breathe free, fresh air again."

He looked away, as if he were looking unto an unseen horizon. "Maybe someday, we'll be more focused on more peaceful projects..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I'll pass the info on to the right people, who'll get in touch with you." Rays informed Lance as he folded the papers and pocketed them.

Lance gave him a nod, knowing that Rays wouldn't cheat him out of his money, he'd find the right people, the best people for the job. Just then, he heard the tunes of a rock song coming from his pocket, and he extracted the cell phone. Looking at the display on the cover, he saw that it was a relayed call from the shop. He popped it open.

"Red Moon Customs. Lance Freeman speaking."

"Red Moon Customs. Lance Freeman speaking."

Ah, must be one of Johni Lea's contacts.Willow thought. "I'm sorry for disturbing you Mister Freeman. I guess my cousin left a set of keys here without realising it. But she's not here for me to ask, and I was just trying to track down where the keys came from. Once again I'm sorry to have bothered you." That was about all she could get out, it did hurt to to any for long. She'd liked the sound of his voice, though. Maybe she had over heard him and Johnni Lea speaking, or been introduced, and that was why the name seemed familiar. She'd have to ask her cuz if she was buying or selling to this Lance Freeman.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maybe someday, we'll be more focused on more peaceful projects..."


Rowan shuddered at the images his words had brought "It lasted ten years didn't it? I can understand why you'd want to help contribute to the future defense of your country. War really alters ones mindset."

However it wasn't a conversational topic so Rowan picked up the menu and quickly perused the desert selection. "Want something to finish the meal off with? The white chocolate lava cake with rasberries sounds good."

"I'm sorry for disturbing you Mister Freeman. I guess my cousin left a set of keys here without realising it. But she's not here for me to ask, and I was just trying to track down where the keys came from. Once again I'm sorry to have bothered you."

Lance was surprised to say the least that the voice he heard was Willow's. At first, he was silent as she finished apologizing, but he soon answered. "Willow? Willow, do you not remember the race? The accident? Anything? Those keys, I left for you..."

He looked around himself, just wondering what to do if she had indeed lost her entire memory of the whole incident. Someone would have to break it gently to her, tell her just why she was in the hospital. Someone like Rowan... he thought to himself. He'd call his son later, see if he was still with the girl and let her know that way.

#######################

Josh turned his head back to her as she made her dessert suggestion, a smirk upon his face, "Geez woman, is this dinner going that badly enough you're trying to subtly kill me with clogged arteries?" He gave a light laugh as the expression on her face registered.

Waving his hand to brush that aside, he nodded, "Sounds great." Another smile.

"Willow? Willow, do you not remember the race? The accident? Anything? Those keys, I left for you..."

"No I...I don't remember the race, they told me what happened but I don't remember...You...Lance...You were the one I was racing against? Was I mad at you over something? Oh this is making my head hurt...Please, could you come see me. Please?" Williow hated that she couldn't remember, that the was a large dark area that was jagged and jumbled and hurt to try and see into.

She could here engines, with the snarl of power and speed about them. "You're at some races or other, I can hear them in the background...and if I have your keys...I'm going to hold them for ransom!" She felt oddly pleased with herself for coming up with that notion. Maybe there was something to be said for being drug addled after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Roawn gave him a look. "You look young and healthy. Surely one half of a small desert isn't going to give you a heart attack." A distinct eye roll accompanied it.

"However it sounds like you've taken far too many cues from your father..." She joshed back at him "They do say though that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree..." Then her tone turned gently serious, as the next question was definitely going to be prying.

"He and your mom splitsville?"

The request was considered for several seconds. Lance wanted to stay and watch the races, but he couldn't bring himself to tell her he'd see her later. The races were one thing. He wasn't involved in them directly, whereas Willow was on the phone with him.

"I'll be there shortly." he informed her, "Just take it easy, all right? I'll see ya in a bit." With that, he clicked the phone shut and pocketed it. He turned and began to walk away from the race toward his own car; the newest Grand Am he had brought along with him; only a few hundred feet away. It rumbled to life, and within minutes, he was making fast time to the hospital.

######################

"Hey, you make it sound like my dad's an uncultured, blue collared guy. He is cultured...in his own way." He gave her a frown, though he knew she was only prodding at him. Her next question however brought silence from him.

"Split? Hah, I wish." he muttered, looking away from her.

"I'm sorry Josh, I never menat you dad was uncultured, he just likes to tease and josh around..." Rowan apologised. "And I don't consider you uncultured at all.

"Split? Hah, I wish."

Rowan sat silent for a second, then her voice was even softer. "I'm sorry Josh, I ...it's just he didn't act attached around Willow earlier, before the race."

"Oh Goddess, I'm glad Willow doesn't remember the race or anything that happened just before it. She'd be mortified at flirting around with a married man. She's a widow, and her husband was murdered by a jealous idiot. Thought he was fooling around with his wife when all Cargo had done was stop to help a stranger change a flat tie in the middle of a storm."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Willow hung the phone up slowly, wondering if Lance was as nice in person as he sounded over the phone. She felt bad, in a way, for pulling him away from the races, he obviously was more than just a onlooker. She'd apologise to him when he arrived, as well as thank him for coming,.

She wondered why they had been racing- none of her relatives had mentioned that, but then again they might have. She had been slipping in and out of post anethesia sleep and might have been told but simply didn't remember being told.

Josh turned to look back at her, "That's because he's not been married for a long time." he studied her for several long moments, his inquisitive eyes keeping her silence. "Mom died from overdosing on some sniff. I was only four at the time. I don't even really remember her, except her face."

He looked away as the waiter came to the table and took the dessert order before disappearing again. He didn't look back until a few moments after that. His face was calm, collected, as if he were not worried or disturbed by this conversation, which was true for the most part.

"Willow would do him some good you know. He's had a few girlfriends in the past, but they didn't last. It's not good for him to be alone. He gets all moody and whatnot when that happens, although he does work off a lot of that steam by working on the cars."

#############

This time, Lance entered the hospital through the main entrance, walked down the hallway and passed by some of the Pettimore gang still milling about as they awaited the release of Willow from the hospital's care. He nodded to them, then walked to the door leading to where she rested.

She had closed her eyes while waiting for him, and when he saw her like that, he halted himself at the foot of her bed, watching her. She looked peaceful, almost entirely serene even, though he suspected the drugs were partly to blame. He simply remained there, watching her, waiting...

"I'm sorry to hear about your mother." Roawn laind her hand lightly on his , her voice filled with compassion "I've never minded pot, but stronger drugs? I loathe them. Johnni Lea and Three nearly came to open war until he backed down and refused to deal them, or allow them in our territories at all.

"Willow would do him some good you know. He's had a few girlfriends in the past, but they didn't last. It's not good for him to be alone. He gets all moody and whatnot when that happens, although he does work off a lot of that steam by working on the cars."

"I've always believed that people weren't meant to be alone - we, by our very natures don't do well when winging it solo. Love is something we need, no matter what gender, or how many wh chose to have a relationship with. And yeah Williow been alone too long too. She and Hoot semed to have something building" Here Rowan shrugged philosophically."But it never seemed to come to anything and then he up and disappeared back to Imitora. and she was alone again. Oh she has tons of friends in the Outlaws, and lots of work to keep her busy, but it's not the same, if you understand what I'm trying to say."

She felt he did, but didn't like to presume. "She and Cargo never had children. Incompatible genetics. But she did a great job of raising me. I was my folks 'change of life, totally unanticipated" gift, and they were killed when I was just a few months old and she was twenty two."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It seemed like only seconds that she had closed her eyes, drifting in the warm cocoon of the morphine. Then something alterted her and she opened her eyes to find a man she had no memory of but some how recognised.

"Lance ... Freeman?" Hald question half statement as she struggled to sit up in bed, wincing a little in pain. The doctors ahd said that if they had a hospital bed, and a pair of private nurses arranged, and would cover his fee to come out and check on her daily, he'd allow her to be checked out tomorrow. The Pettimores had no problem with that, money was no object.

The flagger caught Rob's attention, making sure the Tanaaran was ready. He gave each car a few seconds to get up in the rev range, and just as he saw the right moment, he dropped.

Rob took off with a near perfect launch, with just the tinniest bit of wheel spin to ease on the transmission, a light chirp as he rocketed off the line. He slammed through second perfectly, clearing the gear well in the lead.

That was when he realized the Porsche hadn't launched. A quick glance back saw the headlights of the 930 rip skywards as the weight dropped on the rear wheels. The M/Ts sitting on the ass end gripped with no spin, the turbo spooled up, and the Porsche completed all three -it's: Sit, Shit, and Git.

By the eight mile mark, the 930 was ripping past the Lotus with ease. The motor sitting over the rear wheels roared with dominating authority, the two turbos wailing a banshee wail. Each shift urged a hard, loud brap, and a two foot long flame spitting out the single tail pipe. The nitrous was well audible, too.

Matty crossed the finish line a good quarter track ahead of Rob's Lotus. It was fast, but not a drag monster. The Porsche was. It was an odd choice for a car, but then again, when the owner also claimed the keys to one of the super rare COPO Camaros, a blown 2006 Goat, a custom order 2009 Camaro in order to be drop shipped to his chosen speed shop Stonewall Motorsports, and straight line built C6 Zed Oh Six, he wanted something out of the ordinary.

A seven liter Chevy LS7 with two remote Garrett GT turbos, a 200 direct shot of nitrous, in a race built motor wasn't super out of the ordinary, at least in Imitora. When stuffed in the back of Porsche 911 of 930 vintage, it was. Add in one of the most complex and advanced cooling set ups possible, and it was downright out of this world. Even Ryan, Steve, and Harlan, upon their own personal first viewing of the car, had tipped their hats to Stonewall.

Rob's smile was sheer admiration, and a good part envy, but he still prefered his Lotus. When they got back to the staging area, Rob pulled aaside to stretch his legs, toss two grand into the bag, then went over to congratulate the driver of the 930.

"Can I ask -what's under the hood? That was as pretty and impressive a win as I've seen all night." He said appreciatively then continued "I have a very strong feeling that you and the Chevelle are going to end up the last two standing, and I also wanted you to know I'll buy the blood red Dominator off of you if you end up winning."

The man who slipped out of the Porsche (http://www.altmanphoto.com/keith_richards_portrait.jpg) as it rolled to the back of the line stood, stretched, and leaned back against the car.

"Right mate," he spoke popping his neck, and reached into the car, pulling on a latch, and popping open the rear trunk. He looked rough, a bit beat up, and rugged. More so than most Imitorans, at least.

He walked around the back, tugged up the trunk cover, and held his hand out to the motor.

"LS7, two turbos, nitrous, lots o' power there." His words were soft, not the normal boisterous voice of an Imitoran, most likely because he spoke little. When he did, people listened. Of course, most of the time it was out of fear more so than respect.

"Whats about you?"

"Whats about you?"

Rob gave a low appreciative whistle. "Nice!! Yes every bit of power you'd need I think..and that cooling set up in an eyebrow raiser."

He took a long appreciative look at the Porsche's set up and then opened up the Lotus. "Just what came from the factory. This is their very first production car and I've only had it a month. I'm thinking of asking Ryan to do a little on it, make the top end not so slugish."

The BMW V8 varient sat pretty as a picture amid the various other parts, and the car was absolutely immaculate. "This is one of the most agile and responsive cars I've ever driven." Rob couldn't help boast a bit. "Not the fastest in the world but that's not what I'm after."

However something about the man made his "danger sense" kick in, and he was more than half glad when a shout from his mother caught his attention. Though Rob knew dangerous men enough - his half brother being a very prominent one and Rob was not slouch in that department either, this was a different sort of vibe

"Scuse me, mom calling." He excused himself and headed over to the Hexx. Mercy had just won her run, but now she held an encrypted phone in hand and was frowning. After a brief conversation with Rob, she handed him the telephone and pulled away, her escorts in their not suburban subruban's trailing discretely but protectively after her.

Rob looked over and made eye contact with the discrete man standing in the shadows with a brief case in his hands. The "not a suburban" suburban lurking behind him might have looked innocent enough, but it was loaded to the gills with armed and armored shooters, and was directly uplinked to Myriad.

Sliding the phone into an inner jacket pocket Rob walked back over to the Lotus, glad to see that others had pulled around him, and some one else would be facing Matty. He made a mental note to ask Ryan about the man later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Punkin had followed the others back down to the Midnight Madness racing. She may have had no idea how to launch a car for racing, but did know how to drive one fast - she had driven more than a few getaway cars, and she had a good reputation Stateside as a transporter, though the fact that she wouldn't haul drugs limited her some what - but papers, cash, small high tech objects - she'd sped them all across the country and delivered on time with no imperial complications tailing her.

She liked the way the massive turbo had sounded - turning heads as the v6 roared the ten miles back to the other area in hair raisingly little time. But she wasn't sure she really wanted to find some one to teach her how to race the Stang, or just sell it to some one who'd appreciate it. Which didn't seem to be the TMZ'ers- or maybe it her they just didn't appreciate. But that didn't bother her much.
She was here on a job which would net her about twentyfive million, and she was making more quietly on the side. The hmmvv back at the other end held nearly a mil in rare snakes. She liked snakes, they were far more honest in their motivations that most humans.

Ocean's 11 may have been movie fiction, but the Seven C's were alive and well and theri works were always highly profitable. She just wondered who her contact was to be. That was the one bit of information the others hadn't gotten to her yet, and that was a little worrisome. That and the fact this was an region she'd never worked in before, but really all TMZ was was a refueling point for an aircargo transport.

Matty just shrugged. "What suits you then mate," he said, gruffly, and shut the trunk. He slipped back into the Porsche and turned back in line. It wasn't much longer before he made quick and light work of a big block Camaro of sorts. Ryan had gone through his second buy in, his high nine Supra dropping to a drag built Mustang running in the lower eights. He wasn't upset at all, his two Supra's were more top end cars than anything, and he hadn't brought any of his seriously fast 1/4 mile killers.

He two stepped away as Steve went up against seriously quick Audi, and managed to nose out the Autobahn bomber. Ryan walked over to Matty, spoke a few words, then shook his hand and walked off. He had no problem watching the rest of the races, he wouldn't be putting the Supra up tonight. It would run some other time.

Rob fell quickly to the big Polynesian's '70 Chevelle, and retired for the evening. He pulled in next to the not suburban suburban and spoke to the supergrade holding the football for a moment. He'd stopped for a second and watched Ryan speak to gruff Imitoran, Matty, for a moment before returning to his conversation.

Punkin had watched a few runs and asked around a bit before walking over to where Ryan stood near the Supra. "Scuse me are you Mister Fortier? I'm Punkin O'Dare and I was wondering you'd be willing to do a little bit of work tonight. Every one I asked gave you rave reviews."

Ryan gave her a bit of a nod to her question, and then looked back to the strip. Steve went down for the first time. It didn't look like he would buy back in. Steve and Ryan and been more or less the catalyst to get the races started. They had no intentions of breaking out the big dogs and really pushing it.

He turned is attention back to O'Dare.

"Sorry, not tuning tonight. Just wanted to get a few races in, but I can give you a card if you want."

Punkin nodded agreeablly. She was in no real hurry "Thanks I wasn't wanting a tune, thought. I don't know much about race cars and I won that one over there" She pointed toward the white 'Stang "and I was hoping to get an professional, paid, appraisal on it. Not that the people here probably wouldn't give me one but I won it offa one of them, and they're none too fonda me right now."

Back down at the far end the local team finished writing out their checks and giving them to the team leader Jeff. They weren't too badly upset. The money, totaling eighty grand was going to a good charity. Jeff was going to make sure it got into the organizers hands tonight even if he had to roust them ou of bed. To this group that much moeny was a considerable responsibility.

"Ten, ride with me on this delivery, I want an outside witness on it."

"Sure, if you'll let me buy you dinner afterwards." The American replied with an approving nod- "Thats all of you apes. How about the Truluck?" That proved to be satisfactory to all and they agreed to meet there in roughtly ninety minutes.

Ryan shrugged. "Sure thing. But your not gonna like it if your talking 'bout that Stang."

He pushed himself off from his post on his car, and waved Doc over. The Viper tuner followed him over to the SN95 'Stang, and popped the hood. It was a detailed look, giving each component more than a once over, checking installation tolerances, mounting conditions, and the like. Steve focused on the interior. Both dropped to their stomachs to check the under carriage, noting any road damage, loose parts, and off creaks. The standard push test followed, with Ryan and Doc each giving their weight to compress the suspension to check for rebound.

One last walk around to check the body, and the two conversed for a few short moments.

"Well. SN95 Mustangs aren't to hard to come by these days. The work has been done, thats for sure, but its to much of an off swap to make serious tuners look more than once for the CID factor.

"I'd pull it for twenty, at the most. Hell, even then your lucky."

Doc nodded. "Not my deal, really. I could find you a buyer though, in the eighteen to nineteen range. You'd be hard pressed to pull more than twenty, twenty five for it."

Punkin just smiled wrily, more amused that upset. "Well thank you very kindly gentlemen. He thought he could do a good poker face with a piss poor hand."

She opened the Stang's driver side door, reaching in to grab her pocket book. "Now how much do I owe you?"

Before any one could answer her, a small group of twentysomethings, ill-kempt, smelling that way as well,in torn and faded TMZ fatigues rolled up. One of them carried a good sized cloth sack that squirmed and mewled "Hey you want to buy some snake chow O'Dare?"

"I've told you no, and I ..."

"You pissy bitch!" One of the sneered cutting her off in mid sentence "Just you wait"

"Oh blow it, never mind." The speaker snarled and the group headed back the way they came mutteringly angrily among themselves.

Punkins eyes were cold and hooded. "Scuse me gentlemen, I'd ask you to watch Sam for me but I don't think you'd be willing." She commented as she tossed her messenger bag back in to the car and shrugged off her coat. Seemingly she wore a series of wide off white and amber belkts about her waist, but then the richly textured leatehr moved...on it's own...

There were multiple reasons she'd been wearing the heavy coat, not the least was to help keep her body heat in so the nearly twenty foot apparently albino cobra (http://www.atddm.com/Naja.jpg)wrapped about her waist and over her shoulder would stay warm.

Sam raised his considerable length up and looked around for the reason for the disturbance. But he calmed under Punkin's touch and allowed her to unwrap him from about her torso and set him on the drivers seat atop the coat. Closing the door she sprinted after the pechuchos and caught the bag carrier by the shoulder, whirling him about.

"You really should've let me finish, so as to remind you of what I told you last time." She snatched the bag out of his hands and turned away from the group, never hesitating, but moving briskly back the way she had come.

Josh looked over at Rowan, his demeanor changing suddenly. It was almost as if he were putting his mental walls back up again. "What is this? A meeting of orphans?" He gave a slight chuckle, but Rowan could see he wasn't too comfortable talking about his past. The truth was, he didn't really want anyone to know about it. Things had happened that he felt were meant to remained buried. Skeletons in the closet that should remain as they were.

He gave her another smile, "Thanks though. I appreciate your concern, and I do understand where you're coming from as well." He let his hand turn over slightly to take hold of hers, holding it a little tighter. He looked her in the eyes, the smile still there as they shared a moment of silence between the two of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Lance ... Freeman?"

Lance nodded, planting both hands on the bed frame. "Yes. It's me. You look like shit since the accident. When I looked in my rearview and saw your car...I thought you were dead..."

He moved around to the side of her bed so that she could get a better look at him. "Clearly, you've got angels on your side. Either that, or you've got just enough damn luck."

Thanks though. I appreciate your concern, and I do understand where you're coming from as well."

His comment about orphans meeting had taken Rowan aback. Josh had seemed welcoming enough and his sudden turnabout had her silent for a moment as she wondered if she had said anything inadvertantly insuklting or touched a nerve. Mentally she shrugged, every one had their hang -ups and if she'd just blown any friendship or potential relationship between them...

Then his next words and actions confused her further, but she smiled as their eyes met. Closing her hand a little more tightly about his, she tugged him closer and leaned in to give him a kiss, her lips heading toward his cheek.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Clearly, you've got angels on your side. Either that, or you've got just enough damn luck."

"Angels? Not likely" Willow chuckled softly- trying to do anything in a loud fashion just hurt too much. "I think it's just pilots luck, not destined to die by aircraft, even one I'm not flying."

She waved toward the bedside chair "That way I can see you better." She could turn over just enough on her rightside to be comfortable.

"Now what in the clear blue were you and I racing about. I like a good fast car, but I'm not hooked on racing like some of my kinfolk" She asked curiously.

Ryan shrugged. He had to admit, this was the first time someone hadn't accused him of low balling or cheating money. Very few people understood how little a car was worth, and often it was a heart breaker. No one liked hearing that the ride they had spent well over fifty thousand worth of work usually came out to be less than that on the resale market. He had recently sold off a ten second supercharged Lightning to fund his FD build from Steve. With a new blower, full bolt ons, tune, spray, suspension work, and interior make over (it was a Ford, after all), he had barely been able to move it for thirty thousand.

And he didn't charge for an appraisal, either. Most people who came to him for one usually ended up going somewhere else for a second opinion, only to find it usually lower than his. He at least took the concept of work put into it into the price.

"No charge, our treat," he said. He and Doc watched her storm off after dropping the snake, and shrugged at each other.

Doc just turned back to his Viper. He had been eying up a Cobra that seemed much like his, and it would be fun to spin his tires in anger for the first time. The Viper had seen plenty of highway and street tuning, but had yet to be raced. However, Doc had practiced, and he was more than ready for what the Viper would do at a launch.

Ryan followed with a bit of lag, watching Steve finally get knocked out for the second time by Matty in the Porsche. He returned back to the area where most of the Imitorans were standing, and leaned back against his Supra, watching the races.

Punkin didn't give the guy a chance to decide if he was going to hit a girl. She placed the bag down behind her and out of the way.

Stepping forward she slid a pair of black matte rubber wrapped sticks, about the diameter of a roll of quarters, from their carrying cases on the back of her belt. Punkin really liked snakes, for what she had just unsheathed were called Asps.

Better known as 21" spring loaded steel tactical batons.

And she put the far end of her righ hand one into the thug's grimmace. He reeled back with a cry, spitting blood and teeth.

"Who's next?" She inquired sweetly.

Josh noticed when she took a tighter hold on his hand, then leaned in to kiss him. Just as her lips were about to touch his cheek, he turned his head suddenly, surprising her as her lips met his full on. He let it hold for several seconds before pulling away, a slight smile on his face.

"Oops. Clumsy me."

###################


"Now what in the clear blue were you and I racing about. I like a good fast car, but I'm not hooked on racing like some of my kinfolk" She asked curiously.

Lance looked down, having seated himself already in the empty chair. It squeaked slightly as he shifted his weight, something that was common in pretty much any hospital he had ever been in. When he looked back up at her, he had a serious look on his face.

"Well...I challenged you to a simple race, since we both had similar cars...Trans Am's to be exact. You could have turned me down, but you just didn't. Seems like I got under your skin...something I suspect isn't a common thing to happen with you."

He looked out the window next to him as he leaned back in the chair, "I almost feel like it's my fault that you got hurt...but then again, getting creamed by a falling jet engine isn't exactly a common occurrence."

He looked back at her, "So, I decided that because you lost your car, I'd give you mine." He could see her working several thoughts through her mind at this, but he spoke before she could, "I'm not taking the car back either. I left some paperwork that tell you the car's history on the front seat. You'll see everything I've done to it to keep it in top shape. You'll also find that this car's got a roll cage, something you obviously didn't have in yours."

He shrugged, "They say lightning doesn't strike the same place twice, but there's nothing about additional jet engines..."

Oops. Clumsy me."

Rowans voice was breathy "Oh I seriously doubt that .A rather brash gambler maybe, but clumsy? Nevah" And as she hadn't let go of his hand yet, leaned in and initated the second kiss. Her lips were soft- and while the kiss became - with slow deliciousness - far more than just friendly, it was without inviting further liberties ...just yet.

When at last the kiss ended she sat back in her chair, her eyes dreamy and her cheeks flushed "Oh my " she murmured half to herself, then blushed pinker, but without looking away from Josh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"They say lightning doesn't strike the same place twice, but there's nothing about additional jet engines..."

"Lance...that wasn't my car. We were going to deliver it to it's new owner here at the Expo. That was a half million dollar car!" She tried not to laugh, she wasn't intending to hurt his feelings - and laughing hurt like hell too boot at the moment.

She'd not had a sweeter gift since she'd lost Cargo, and it touched her deeply. "Oh Lance honey, I wasn't laughing at your gift, it's a wonderful gift, but...but...I just can't accept it."

She becconed him over, and as he leaned forward in the chair, she took his hand and let him feel the tears rolling down her cheeks.

The fight, unfortunately (or quite possibly very fortunately based on your perspective), went unnoticed to Ryan and Steve. To them, street fights at the street races were common place, and until a piece was drawn, the usually went off with one person being beaten down and walking off.

That, and as loud as it was, an Asp against a face wasn't nearly as loud as the Timmzian Chevelle that had just rocketed down the impromptu strip against another local car.

A few Imitorans had moved over to watch, but most stayed back. Punkin had started the fight, they would let her finish it as well. One or two were more interested in her physical form, and a few more in the Mustang. Very few were intimidated by the snake, but then again, very few were even close to the car.

Three rushed Punkin and two managed to get in close enough to land blows to her torso, but while they hurt, they damn well didn't stop her. She had learned long ago how to roll with the punches, and if she was just a street fighter, she was a good one. The left asp came in hard on the closest one kidneys- she knew what to do with that extra reach when some one though they'd gotten inside said reach. The other one dropped as the butt end was hammered ruthlessly against his temple.

"Somebody get the damn kittens and keep em safe" Punkin snarled as the rush had made her almost back up far enough to stumble over the wiggling twisting bag.

One of the Imitorans watching stepped forward, snatched the bag back, and then placed it off to the side. One or two had contemplated getting involved, but decided against it. It was considered bad form, and Punkin looked like she had enough of a handle on things. They would let her finish the fight.
___

Hoot took a long look around before settling over near the rest of the Imitorans. Many had simply finished their racing for the night, not having been kicked out of the Midnight Madness, but having no real urge to continue pushing their rides. A few had been dropped from the racing, but many simply hadn't bought back in. There were a few serious rides still lined up and running, but most of the Imitoran examples had been toy cars and fun weekend rides.

Without the extra worry, Punkin spun in a series of blows that were far more intimidating that seriously damaging. A few punches - and a well swung chain, but that she'd managed to tangle and remove that from play very quickly - had gotten through and she'd be sporting some bruises tomorrow, as well as a swollen and slightly bleeding split lower lip. However the remainging gangbangers had gotten far worse then they'd managed to dish out.

There had been five of them originally and by the time the off
duty TMZ MP's had decided they ought to break things up only two had been standing, and they had been none to steady on their feet.

Punkin had backed off when the MP's stormed in, and quickly retracted the Asps. She'd waited arms crosssed her chest watcdhing as they'd not so kindly taken the two standing off of their feet.

"You going to arrest me?" She asked.

"No, this batch of scum is known, has warrents out on them, so no charges, and you were just defending yourself five to one.. But Jeezus Punkin, not with this many witnesses about." The middle one of the trio shook his head tiredly. He'd just lost his second buy in to Matty.

It was getting very chilly out, the winter wind coming in briskly off of the ocean,and many were drifting away to near by diners, bars and restraunts.

"Make a thousand dollar donation to the Timzee SPCA and we'll call it golden." the senior most of the three added, as he began cuffing the five.


Punkin nodded and sought out the man who'd pulled the bag of kittens aside. "Thanks. Those assholes keep finding and taking still nurseing feral kittens. I'll never find their mother" She groused to herself as she opened the bag and lifted out a kitten, cuddling the tiny creature carefully. Thanking him once again she headed back over to the Stang, then altered course to where Ryan, Steve and Doc stood chatting among themselves.

"Thanks for the treat, I appreciate your time and effort....and you wouldn't know any one who'd like a kitten?" she joked. She discovered that there were four tiny tuxedo kittens, fluffy as could be with china blue eyes. They were maybe a month old, and totally fearless, now lieing quietly in the bag, looking up with wide eyed couriosity.

Oops. Clumsy me."

Rowans voice was breathy "Oh I seriously doubt that .A rather brash gambler maybe, but clumsy? Nevah" And as she hadn't let go of his hand yet, leaned in and initiated the second kiss. Her lips were soft- and while the kiss became - with slow deliciousness - far more than just friendly, it was without inviting further liberties ...just yet.

When at last the kiss ended she sat back in her chair, her eyes dreamy and her cheeks flushed "Oh my " she murmured half to herself, then blushed pinker, but without looking away from Josh.

Josh just kind of hung there in a bit of a dreamy stupor as she sat back. Blinking at last, he sat back as well, just smiling. Simply smiling. Yeah...that was good... he thought to himself as he watched her blush all the more over his gaze.

He held up a hand, "Ya know...I'm not sure I quite got your message there...I think it's vitally important that you let me know again."

The smile was mischievous...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"They say lightning doesn't strike the same place twice, but there's nothing about additional jet engines..."

"Lance...that wasn't my car. We were going to deliver it to it's new owner here at the Expo. That was a half million dollar car!" She tried not to laugh, she wasn't intending to hurt his feelings - and laughing hurt like hell too boot at the moment.

She'd not had a sweeter gift since she'd lost Cargo, and it touched her deeply. "Oh Lance honey, I wasn't laughing at your gift, it's a wonderful gift, but...but...I just can't accept it."

She beckoned him over, and as he leaned forward in the chair, she took his hand and let him feel the tears rolling down her cheeks.

Lance felt the tears running down her cheek and onto his hand, and he simply let it be. He was silent, thinking. "Then give them mine. I'd hate for you to default on your deal simply because of a race I initiated." he said quietly, "Either that, or I'll give it to one of the Imitorans."

I think it's vitally important that you let me know again."


"Hmmmmm, and I think it's vitally important we go see how well we dance together." Rowan's dimples flashed ashed, and Josh might swear later that she winked...but maybe that was just something in her eye, for she briskly caught the waitstaffer's eye and in seconds had taken claim of the check.

She paid cash and left a sizeable tip, and neither of them needed a doggy bag.

Mere minutes later she was on the the cell phone trying to locate a good dance club, while Josh wheeled the car out of the restraunt parking lot.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"No we won't be giving him your car. It may be the worlds nicest car, but he wanted that one specifically. It was insured so don't worry about that. Look, Lance, please, it is in no way your fault that a jet engine bouced me about. Things fall off airplanes more often they the industry wants known about. Just a bit of the mountain hit close to home."

She lay back silent for a moment, not hiding the fact that she had activated the morphine pump. After a few seconds Willow continued, more quietly this time

"Look if you want to be on the side of the angles, donate the value of the car to the charity the Expos is helping. Those kids could use every penny that can be hauled together." Her tone, and the look in her eyes was pleading, and the light kiss she placed on the back of his hand was very soft.

Doc and Ryan both politely refused. Ryan already had a Calico (Kahlua) and an Australian Shepherd (Cream) that had a hard enough time getting along together. Mostly it was the cat's fault, but the dog wasn't always innocent either. Cats didn't like being herded like sheep. Doc, on the other hand, was allergic to most animals, so he was out as well.

Steve shook his head as well. "Nah, me and the wifey are trying to get our own right now. Don't think she'd appreciate it much if I showed up with a cat."

The night continued on as the racers began to filter out, heading off to what ever they had planned next. It had been less than another hour when only two cars were left: Matty's Porsche, and the Timzian's Chevelle.

As he rolled up to the line, the Imitoran did a quick check. He had enough pressure left in the bottle to get the full effect of the shot, and not run out on the big end. The Mikey T Street Slicks, tucked in under the massive German fenders, still had plenty of grip left in them, and were just right and warm for the occasion. He had less than a quarter tank of the C16, but it only helped drop weight. The boost gauge, A/F gauge, and oil pressure and temperature gauges were all stable, showing the car holding full pressure and maintaining an optimum Air Fuel Ratio throughout the run.

He left the car running, but stepped out, giving it a once over, and then the Chevelle.

Ryan pushed himself up from his lean on the Supra, and followed by Steve, walked over slowly.

"Well mate, lookin like we may have ourselves a bit of a run here then. Whats say we make it a bit more interesting?" Matty's look was stoic, unmoving, and generally looking for something more than a quick run.

Rob had wanted to step in on the altercation, and would have had the lady been getting the worst of it. He relaxed back though as she emerged mostly unscathed. The kittens were cute but he wasn't looking for one right now, though he'd keep them in mind and ask Aeris tomorrow if she wanted one or more. He liked cats over dogs as he generally felt he didn't have enough free time for a dog.

Punkin rewrapped Sam about her and pulled her coat back on, leaving the kitten in the warmth of the Stang. She wanted to see the two last men standing run so while she hung back she moved in close as all those remaining were doing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Well mate, lookin like we may have ourselves a bit of a run here then. Whats say we make it a bit more interesting?"

Joe gave him a big smile, as he slid from behind the wheel and offered his hand for a shake -"Joe Ohnoagain" Yes he know his name drew laughs -the TMZ sergeant never met a man he couldn't find some good in, and made friends easily. "Yes I think I'm going to have to be on my toes for sure." He had faith in the car - he'd done all the work himself, putting in a lot of time - his pay was decent, but the car and his other expenses never let him end up with much in savings.

"What sort of more interesting?" He asked. Joe didn't stop smiling, but inwardly he worried a little bit. He knew how good the Porsche was and he hoped that the driver didn't want to do something like a high dollar add on.

Matty gave the Chevelle one last once over. It would be nice in his collection, stick it with his older rides. Of course, it could also make some money on the open market. Modified cars didn't pull in much, but modified classics always went for a good chunk. It wasn't that he needed the money, he just liked it.

"Right then. Titles and a hundred large. Plus the bag. Make a good catch. Someone would be going home plenty more wealthy than when they came. Make us really push the cars, too."

Like most Imitorans, Matty would gladly race for slips, and adding cash was usually customary.

"If you need the cash, I could always loan it to ya," Matty finished with a wicked looking grin.

"If you need the cash, I could always loan it to ya,"

Joe sighed to himself. He had no idea what he'd do with a Porsche if he won, and losing the Chevelle ...he'd risk that but he in no way had a hundred grand, and he damn well wouldn't borrow it from some one he was racing against.

Though the grin probabaly meant it was a tease...or he hoped it did. "I can't do the money," he explained, "I just don't have it. Whats in the bag ought to be enough - isn't that Dominator, and a couple of other sets of keys in there?"

Matty's grin raised Punkins hackles slightly. He walked the same side of the street she did, but she'd be body parts he was a lot roughter than she...and men like him often needed a coimeuppance especially from thier own kind.

She stepped forward "I'll toss in a bit to see this run go off."

Matty nodded at Punkin. "Right then, looks like you have your self a sponsor then. For the cash, 'least. You game for the car?"

Matty's tone wasn't quite forceful, but had a tinge of "I know I'm gonna kick your ass" in it. It wasn't cocky, but as if he were saying a simple fact.

He turned to Punkin, and reached into his jacket. He flicked out what looked like a business card, mostly with basic address and phone. "Make the check out to this addy if'n you don't have the cash love. Bouce it, and we have issues, right?"

He turned back to the Chevelle driver. "So whats about the wheels? Willing to put the slip up as well mate?"

Punkin took the card with her own wicked grin "The check won't bounce, but we can make it half a Mil if you'll take it in equivallent merchandise" Sam was back asleep and not at all visable under her heavy coat.

"So whats about the wheels? Willing to put the slip up as well mate?"


Slowly Joe nodded. "Yes I'll put up the slip. And miss Punkin don't you go getting that man dead."

Punkin just looked innocent. "If he has the balls" was her only comment

Matty shook his head. "No, Punkin O'Dare, I won't take snakes. They don't sell well, and I don't have place for them. They are on your hands now. I'll take the money."

Matty turned back to the Chevelle driver. "Good then."

He turned one last time, and met eyes with Ryan. "So, you gonna hold us on this one. Think I owe ya anyways."

Ryan nodded, and took the bag. He walked up a good ten feet in front of the two cars, and gave each one a look.

"Alright," he said. "You two know the rules. First one to hit the marker wins. You fuck up, its game over. No buy back for the last race, no buy rounds. You loose, you loose, simple as that. Either ya try to run with keys, I'll find ya and make sure you give 'em up straight."

Matty nodded, and slipped into the Porsche, letting it roll forward towards the starting line.

No, Punkin O'Dare, I won't take snakes. They don't sell well, and I don't have place for them. They are on your hands now. I'll take the money."

Punkin's eyes sharpened. How the hell did he know about. If she had been a cat her ears would have been pinned flat for a second. Then she laughed softly.

"Okay, but men today have no damn balls. Cash after the race...if you win" Her voice was soft, with a hint of challenge.


"You two know the rules. First one to hit the marker wins. You fuck up, its game over. No buy back for the last race, no buy rounds. You loose, you loose, simple as that. Either ya try to run with keys, I'll find ya and make sure you give 'em up straight."

Now Joe did roll his eyes as he slid behind the wheel. He had no intention of running anywhere save out infront of this strager with the flat eyes and no apparent zet for life. He had the sad feeling that if he lost, the chevelle would just go in a garage somewhere and sit.

Like the Porsche every system in the Chevelle was in perfect trim, all the guages reading at optimum, the sound of the motor music to his sharp ears. She felt eager to run, and so was he. He let every thing else fall away, nothing mattering now but the launch and the quarter mile after it.

It wasn't long before Rowan had located several dance clubs only about forty minutes from the restaurant. Josh drove fast, but for the sake of the fact that he didn't know the roads nor the habits of police, he maintained an even speed of five over. Perhaps later, he'd go faster.

"Let me ask you something." he asked as they rode along, "What kind of dancing do you prefer?"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


"Look if you want to be on the side of the angels, donate the value of the car to the charity the Expos is helping. Those kids could use every penny that can be hauled together." Her tone, and the look in her eyes was pleading, and the light kiss she placed on the back of his hand was very soft.

Lance nodded finally, just tossing his hands up in the air after she kissed one of them, "All right, fine. I'll do that. I'll bet there's some sort of auction or something that I can toss the car into."

Matty made the first roll forward, inching up to Ryan. He eased the Porsche forward up to Ryan’s knees, watching the other Imitoran’s hands as he measured it out. He stopped when Ryan gave him the signal to do so, and let the V8 idle away calmly. Ryan then did the same for the Chevelle. He stood in front of the classic muscle car, moving one hand in a circular motion, as he waved the Chevy forward, the other hand cautioning to make the movement slow. When the big car was just an inch from his knees, Ryan held up both hands to stop, and backed away.

He stood back a good yard or two from each car, in between them. It would give him enough time to nose dive if either came his way, which was a very real possibility. It had nothing to do with driver skill, but when putting down the numbers that these cars did at the wheels, the car went where it wanted to go, plain and simple. No human being was going to tell a thousand plus horsepower, or nine hundred plus foot pounds of twist where it was going to go. You only suggested.

Ryan first pointed to the Porsche. Matty revved once, let the boost build, and let off, the HKS SSQVs whistling as excess boost pumped away from the throttle body and into the atmosphere. Before the tach fell down to idle, he gave it the gas again, bringing the revs back up, and holding them where he felt sufficient for the launch. Next was the Chevelle. The big block rumbled then roared, shaking the frame of the car as it pushed to dump its power. The two engines echoed through the night, bouncing sound off the concrete. A number of onlookers had to cover their ears. Those standing close by could feel the combustion process resonate in their bodies.

Ryan held his hands above his head, and in the short time, the world stopped moving for the two drivers. The sound of turbos and pistons and transmission gears fell silent to heart beats and pulses. The entire world fell away, disappearing so that the only chunk of earth was the one thousand three hundred and twenty feet that lay out in front of them. That, and the room to park it. The first thing in each driver’s mind was winning, the second was “always have a place to park it”. When running seven second passes, no one wanted to run out of real estate.

Ryan dropped his hands, and all of that stopped mattering.

One

The Chevelle’s launch was more than violent. The space shuttle launches paled in comparison as every bit of horsepower and torque dumped out through the rear slicks and onto the pavement. The nose tore skyward, first the left, then right, wheel ripping from the ground. The tires hardly spun, just snagged pavement, and went. The hole shot was clearly his as it roared forward.

Matty’s Porsche, on the other hand, had a launch befitting a car that had the engine hanging over the ass. The weight was already at the rear, and the tight chassis kept the front wheels on the ground, even though the suspension was full decompressed up front. It was an interesting site as the entire body, but not the wheels, rose. The wheels spun just a touch to much, and Matty took a quick second as the Chevelle rolled forward. He slammed through first as the sixty foot passed.

Two

The Chevrolet had to fight to keep its front wheels planted straight, the lack of weight on the front wheels pulling the car off from the main line. He had room to go either way, but it would suck away precious thousandths of a second that in this race mattered. The lumbering all metal frame looked oddly light as it speed forward and away from the Porsche

Matty slammed through second, never coming off the throttle in the shifts. He would hold it out as long as he could, keeping the revs up and the boost building. The large Garretts were close to full spool now, and the Porsche nimbly pulled forward. As the tachometer neared red line in third, the computer began calling for the nitrous.

Three

The two cars ripped on, tearing chunks of asphault with them as the pounded the concrete. From behind, they seemed to be accelerating away faster than the aircraft that used the run way, on to their own take off. Each shift from the Porsche burped out flames that licked at that ground, leave traces of carbon spots on the run way. The Chevelle jumped as the power poured on, the rear end squatting as the driver peddled to keep the car straight. The slicks barked and squealed as they caught full grip, straightened out the Chevelle on their own, and powered it forward. However, the 930 was starting to catch up.

Four

As the Porsche rounded out third, the computer called for a full nitrous, and the turbos were wailing at full spool. The sound emitted from the twin turbocharged and sprayed 427 at full tilt had no words to match. Nitrous oxide dumped into the motor, along with the overly compressed air from the twins. At full tilt, it quickly ended the pull of the Chevelle. The half car lead was quickly replaced with a door and door match as the Autobahn beast screamed forward, pulling in the muscle.

Five

The A Body fought on, ripping forward towards the quarter mile marker. Still holding what little lead it held became harder and harder by the inch. Each rev, each mile per hour, each roll of the wheel saw it falling back. Nitrous sprayed through the motor as it tore at its mounts, pulling the heavy weight with it. This was no endurance race, no long end run. It was a no holds barred run to the end sprint. The Chevelle was one hell of a sprinter.

Six

The crowd stood back, watching the two titans battle it out for that last eight, last sixteenth of a mile. There had been a slight gasp as the tires on the Chevelle caught full traction and rocketed forward, a hush as full boost and full spray hit the wheels of the Porsche and the tail end squirreled out. The hollow, echoing sound of the vee eights wafted off in the distance, the sound disappearing as fast as the tail lights down the quarter.

Seven

Steve had been waiting at the far end, the head lights of his car marking the end of the run. He watched with careful eye the entire (and all to short) time as the two cars rocketed towards him. He heard every shift, every exhaust pop, every tire squeal, every bit of spray, every ounce of boost as the road warriors screamed towards the finish line, the beam of his headlights. And he stood stunned as the seven second mark clicked by on his watch, and less than half a heart beat later, the two cars came rocketing by.

The two drivers rolled down in speed, letting gravity, and a very careful modulation of the brakes, slow their steeds. Steve had snapped open his cell phone, hit the speed dial then two, and spoke easily.

“Matty by a nose.”

From his distance just a quarter mile away, he could see half the crowd erupt into cheers, and the other half slowly and quietly step back.

“Yeah,” he responded into the phone. “Hell of a race. We’ll need to bring your T/A next year."

Joe finally realized he did indeed need to breath, that those seven seconds had been the longest and shortest in his life. His days and hours in the din and blood of combat less real than this.

His big hands gentled the Chevelle about and took her slowly back down to the starting line where the crowds waited. Patting the dashboard lightly one last time, remembering fondly all the hours he'd sweated and cursed over the build... "You be a good girl for him just as you were for me. He'll treat you right" Though he knew that was just his hopeful nature.

He climbed out, bringing with him the small handfull of items that were his, and nodded to Matty "Was a good race, a fun race. You''ve got a hell of a car there. Thanks for letting me race against you" He left the Chevelle running, letting the engine cool down gradually. He wouldn't harm the car even if it ws no longer his.

The big polynesian was a favorite with all the locals, because of that inate kindness and good sportsmanship. He accepted their condolences with good grace, but quickly squashing any comments about 'invaders' and other venemous remarks. "No it was a fair race, a great race, I was priviledged to take him on. He's a good driver, the Porsche is lighter, better sprinter"

Matty stepped out of the Porsche as it rolled to a stop. He pushed past those congratulating him, some expecting, some disappointed.

Was a good race, a fun race. You've got a hell of a car there. Thanks for letting me race against you

Matty just shook his head. "Nada mate."

He walked over to the Chevelle, and gave it a good long once over, both inside and out, before reaching in, and clicking it off. He left the keys in the ignition, and waved over someone who looked to belong with him, part of a crew.

"Right then. Take it to the 'port. We'll load it up in the morning, take her home then. Stay the night here."

The other man nodded, climbed into the driver's seat, and rather adeptly pulled away from the airfield.

Ryan walked over to the Porsche driver, and handed him the back. It jingled with the keys and money bouncing around, and he smiled. "Perfect then. You wanna help move me new cars?"

"Negative Ghost Rider," Ryan chuckled. "Sides, you got plenty of your boys with you to move the new wheels. Gonna move 'em when you get back home?"

"Good chance that. Could make some decent cash off them."

He tossed the bag into his Porsche, and finally made his way over to Punkin.

"I'll be taking the money now," he smirked.

I'll be taking the money now,"

"Give me half a mo, and then you can give me a ride up to my 'bank'" Punkin said cooly as she indicated the barely visable mass of hmmv's and such at the far end of the other runway.

She moved over to Joe, talking low with him, then shaking her head when he apparently protested vehemently. Handing him the bag of kittens, after pulling two out and tucking them carefully in the capacious pockets of her heavy coat. She then tossed him the keys to the Stang, her voice too low to hear the words clearly but the tone was adamant. Even his continual protests apparently made little matter her and she walked back to Matty a satisfied look on her face.

That vanished when she got close to the Imitoran crime lord. "It took me a minute to figure out who you are and to make a guess as to how you knew of me. I didn't think you came out of your hole for candy money ...so, to my bank?"

What kind of dancing do you prefer?"

"No I'm not big on 'country and western', not really, though it's fun from time to time. I'm a good ballroom dancer but most people aren't interested in that nowdays. I like it where about half the tunes spun are good for dancing slow and comfortable."

She wasn't dressed for ballroom dancing either, and she hadn't brought anything suitable. Nope a casual club, where the music wasn't too loud would do nicely.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"All right, fine. I'll do that. I'll bet there's some sort of auction or something that I can toss the car into."

Willow chuckeld wearily, her torso beginning to ache despite the morphine "Yep there is, you can ask Rowan - she's donating that ridiculous half million dollar 'Cuda she got given as a birthday present."

She let her head droop back against the pillows, no longer fighting to sit up. " and truly Lance don't worry 'bout the car. If it had been one of my choppers, that'd be another story, far harder to replace." Her eyes closed of their own accord. She struggled to stay awake, but she'd dialed in more morphine a few minute before and now it was dragging her under...

Matty shrugged, slipping into the driver's seat of the Porsche. He didn't bother opening the door for her, instead he simply reached over and unlatched the bar holding it locked shut. Once she had settled in, a quick slip into gear took the 930 rumbling over to the waiting area where Punkin's setup waited.

The car slowly rolled to a stop, and the Imitoran waited as Punkin stepped out, did what needed to be done, and came back with the money. He took it from her, not bothering to count it, and simply placed it in the passenger's seat.

He looked up at her, and smirked. "Don't hate me because I'm faster love."

Before she could reply, a quick slip of the clutch had the Porsche off and moving towards the exit gate, and off into the open night.

The night passed pleasantly for most. Joe found solace in seeing to the needs for the kittens Punkin had sentenced him to care for. Josh and Rowan danced the night away. Charli drove for a long time then went back to the penthouse and didn't fall asleep untill dawn was well and truly underway. Willow slept, dragged under by the morphine, dreams troubling her as her subconscious played and replayed the race.

Victor and Chantal laid planes for revenge, and the night crew at the TMZIA worked frantically to make sure the venue was ready for the neaxt says visitors.

Ryan and company found a diner, found a bar and managed- miracle of miracles- found a motel to doss down it- it was a far cry from the luxury of the penthouse.

"Don't hate me because I'm faster love."

"Hate you? I pity you...asshole" Punkin yelled after him before turning to do one last check on her stock and drive off in the other hmmvv. Though if things went well for her, in a few weeks she'd be contacting Matty though cutouts and buying the chevelle. Joe'd find it in his driveway one morning.

The unfortunate part about the best wishes we hold is that often times, they never come true. The Chevelle was to become a personal favorite of Matty's, who found the engine work almost good enough to stay with. However, while the body was in perfect condition, he just found the under hood piece not to his liking, and soon he would have the Chevelle shipped off to Stonewall for some more work, replaced with an in house built version of the ZZ572. The motor that Joe had built was, unfortunately, parted out amongst the Imitoran racing community for other projects. Matty used the money earned off that endeavor to purchase the second Corvette ZR1. He had no problem letting Mr. Ressler take first delivery. He had met the man, and he was a true Corvette connoisseur who deserved it. Number 002 would be found in a Matte black, with glossed over Hyper Black wheels, and a custom alacantra accented interior.

Shortly after the race, the Imitorans finally made their way out of the air base and onto public highways, where the urge to go fast once again took over. The highways became the new battle ground as the Imitoran cars took over in their true domain, the top speed run. Many Imitoran's had built drag cars, and just as many some fun rides for rolls in the twisties. However, it was here that Ryan and crew took charge. Speeds reaching well past the first century mark, and often going into the seconds, became the norm for the next several hours.

And they did find a bar. And in Imitoran fashion, they crashed it, finally being forced out around five in the morning. A few had retired much earlier to catch flights or be at the convention early the next day. However, the Psychosis crew, as well as many others, took their time in sleeping till early afternoon.

What kind of dancing do you prefer?"

"No I'm not big on 'country and western', not really, though it's fun from time to time. I'm a good ballroom dancer but most people aren't interested in that nowdays. I like it where about half the tunes spun are good for dancing slow and comfortable."

She wasn't dressed for ballroom dancing either, and she hadn't brought anything suitable. Nope a casual club, where the music wasn't too loud would do nicely.


"Ballroom dancing? My God, I'd feel like a cat in water in such a place." Josh commented somewhat to himself, but just loudly enough for Rowan to hear him. Looking over at her, he nodded with a smile, "So, a typical club it is."

The engine roared as he sped toward the club's location. It wasn't long before they were striding through the doors, after having momentarily had to show ID to the bouncer. Leading her with her hand in his to the bar, he order a pair of shots just to start off the fun.

Handing hers to her, he raised his own, "To a beautiful woman who chose to go out with a car freak." A wink before he downed his shot.


######################


"All right, fine. I'll do that. I'll bet there's some sort of auction or something that I can toss the car into."

Willow chuckeld wearily, her torso beginning to ache despite the morphine "Yep there is, you can ask Rowan - she's donating that ridiculous half million dollar 'Cuda she got given as a birthday present."

She let her head droop back against the pillows, no longer fighting to sit up. " and truly Lance don't worry 'bout the car. If it had been one of my choppers, that'd be another story, far harder to replace." Her eyes closed of their own accord. She struggled to stay awake, but she'd dialed in more morphine a few minute before and now it was dragging her under...

Lance watched as she passed out once more. Her mouth hung open slightly, tongue as well, and this, he gently pushed back into a more respectable manner. Standing, he remained at the side of her bed, watching the injured woman sleep as her IV's steadily dripped with soft plinks.

Running a hand through her hair for a moment, he chortled softly, "When you're well enough to be released, I'll personally give you a ride home." He glanced at her lips, dry as they were, and wanted to kiss them. Leaning forward for a moment, he paused as conflicting thoughts raced through his mind. Finally, he straightened back up and turned to the doorway just as a nurse came in to do her rounds. He spoke quietly to her, "I know I'm not family or anything, but would you do me a favor and call me when she's released by the doctor?"

He handed her one of his business cards.

Twenty days later the Automotive Excellence Exposition ended most satisfactorily. Other than the deaths ensuing from the catastrophic event of an airliner losing an engine in mid flight there were only minor injuries, such a sprained ankles and such. The auction garnered a whopping fifty million total for the orphans, and no one found the keys to the other Verona Dream Concept Cars, but all had a fine time looking for them. And the film made by the Japanese crew that followed the children about won several awards for best documentry...And Bazza burger's were the hit food sensation and their out of country franchies expanded wildly as a result...

TMZ got their new police and emergency vehicles and are very pleased with them, and will happily recommend VLT to any whom ask.

Willow was released in to the care of a private doctor several days after her surgery and the Pettimores moved her into a hotel suite set up as a hospital room. She was up and around ten days after that, if moving slowly, and tireing easily. She has kept up casual contact with both Hoot and Lance.

Rowan dated both Jason and Josh equally but never seemed too attached to either of them. She did mention to them that she might set up a tour of clubs in Tarlachia, if she could get people interested in her music...

Joe built a new seven second car, one he felt was even better, and the three kittens are now large, lazy and well loved...

Punkin's snakes ended up on the proper airplane and served their purpose. With several million now in off shore accounts she owns a small, very private island in the Bahamas, where she entertains from time to time. And with wise investments is getting ever richer. Sam has a huge terrarium to slither through but Punkin handles him regularly, and that seems to make the old cobra very happy. He's never struck at her. The two kittens, like their sibling back in TMZ are fat and sassy.

Viktor Helwulf did end up challenging Ryan Fortier, and getting fatally shot for his presumption, though Ryan took a round as well. And due to that, the race between Ryan and Harlan never happened, though Ryan looked very handsome when the next weekend the crew from Top Gear and interviewd him exclusively, and extensively...

Ryan and Charli, any resolution of their personal issues ...that remains a mystery..

Chantal is still around and plotting revenge, which she is very good at...