A/N: Found this on my hard drive. Not much to say about this drabble. It's sort of a warm up I did before I started writing Smoke Gets in Your Eyes. Which is a much larger fic of this pairing. This doesn't actually fit in that continuity, Vespa aside, it's own little stupid thing.
The Texan's stomach lurched as they haphazardly sped around another tight corner. He had given up trying to tell Spy to slow down, last time he tried the man just snorted and sped up sending the little Vespa careening through another narrow alley.
He should never have tweaked the engine, he thought to himself as his lunch threatened to come up as the little scooter practically seemed to leap down a steep hill. He never should have touched the contraption, he should have left well enough alone. He should have left the Vespa where Spy had left it, dead on the floor or his workshop.
But he hadn't left it alone when the Spy had come in sadly wheeling the poor broken thing asking for help, looking as sad as a child whose pet had died. The Texan could never say no to a challenge, or the look on the Frenchman's face. So stupidly he had taken the scooter and promised to do what he could. Outside the thing looked fine, all clean and polished, but the inside hadn't been properly maintained for what looked like ages. But that was Spy for you, as long as it looked good he probably didn't think about what was going on inside. But after cleaning out ages of built up muck, changing some wires and spark plugs, flushing the system and replacing the oil the Engineer had managed to resurrect the machine and make her run better than she ever had before. The delighted look on the Spy's face as he cranked the engine had been ample reward for all the work he put into it. Foolishly pleased with himself got into the sidecar when Spy decided to take the thing on a test drive.
He really should have known better he reflected to himself as the scooter bounced its way down yet another hill and the scenery around him passed by in a blur. The Frenchman seemed to have thrown caution to the wind and cranked the machine as hard as it would go. He didn't notice the fruit stand until it was too late to turn. Furiously he gripped the brakes but he couldn't defy the laws of physics as the little scooter continued its descent down the steep hill, gathering momentum as it went. The Spy rapidly began swearing in three different languages as he tried to turn the scooter, only to succeed in putting the little vehicle into a skid but not slowing or preventing their impact in anyway. Gritting his teeth the Engineer cursed his stupidity as his life and an assortment of fruit flashed before his eyes. He really should have known better.