New fandom, new story :D

I was on my way home from a recent racing event and this random idea popped into my head. Cars has always been one of my favourite Pixar movies and after re-watching the movie I was inspired to write some Fanfiction. This is my first time writing the Cars characters so I'm sorry if they seem a little out of character. Also they're humanized, just to make the story flow a bit easier.

Cars © Disney/Pixar

Chick just couldn't understand it.

It was all going to plan, everything was in place and the odds were in his favour. He should be up on that podium now surrounded by paparazzi, he should be the one with the oodles of devoted fangirls screaming his name, he should be the one with his name on the piston cup. As always though fate seemed to have decided that Mr Hicks didn't deserve a win that day and he was doomed to continue to live in an old racer's shadow.

However on this warm Saturday afternoon that wasn't what was bothering him. Okay, he was ticked off by the fact that the King had upped him again but that wasn't the main source for his frustration. Today's trigger for his ticking time-bomb temper was currently wandering around the pits being followed by a slew of eager reporters and camera crew, stopping every once in a while to answer whatever questions were tossed at him.

"How can he remain so god damn serious all the time?!" Chick glared at where Strip Weathers 'the King' had yet another microphone shoved in his face. Instead of telling the nosy reporter to shove off like some of the less sociable racers the King kept his usual calm demeanour and answered the keen reporter's questions. Then another member of the media crew holding a large camera stepped forward asked for a photo of the new piston cup champion. Again, he obliged, showing the same level of patience and control. Chick scoffed and turned the other way.

If it was him in the King's position right now he certainly wouldn't be calm and reserved. He'd be loud and obnoxious. What else could you expect? It may not be a big deal to those old boys who have a slew of titles to their name but for those of a different league winning the Piston Cup is a pretty big deal. No, scratch that, a HUGE deal. If it were Chick out there the champagne would be popping and everyone would be off to the bar to get plastered after a show-stopping win.

Yet, curse the racing gods, it wasn't him. By mere thousandths of a second he had been piped to the post by an old man and a hotshot rookie. For the (what was it now, forth? Fifth time this season? He had stopped keeping count) Chick was left to gather his pride in the shadows while the upstarts lapped up the fame. Despite the blows to his ego Chick was not totally enraged by this though. Let the King and McQueen enjoy their little victories, he'd bounce back even more ruthless than ever come the next round.

What was getting under his grill was the King's constant politeness. He didn't boast about his victories or bang on about his fame. He was a modest racer and held respect for all those he competed against, be them rookies or seasoned drivers. Chick had never seen the guy brag to the cameras or trash talk another driver. In fact he was almost the contrast to Chick.

Chick was, to put it delicately, a cheat and a braggart. He wasn't afraid to play dirty and was willing to take risks to get what he wants. That's not to say he was a total psychopath. He had morals, they were just a little more twisted than your average racer. But at least he had the liberty to smile every once in a while. Evan if it was more of a malicious smirk, he had the general look of someone who knew how to have a good time.

Watching Strip milling about from his perch atop a spare Goodyear Chick's patience finally snapped. "Damn it, I'll make that guy look happy weather he likes it or not!"

So slipping amongst the camera crews and news reporters Chick began to tail Strip through the pits. It was easy to remain unseen, considering the crowds of people all vying for attention from the racing veteran. The adoring chit-chat made Chick want to rip his ears off but he remained sedate as they meandered between tents toward the party on victory lane.

A large stage had been set up on the tarmac to provide a raised area for interviews and to keep the racers safe from excitable fans and camera crew. Darrel was waiting eagerly for the three champions to arrive so they could get a few words from the top three finishers. Lightning was already there, waiting behind the screen and rocking on his heels in impatience. His face lit up when he saw Strip approach and he respectfully dipped his head to the older racer. Chick rolled his eyes. Little kiss-up.

Knowing that he was required as well for the presentation Chick strolled up the steps to the back of the stage. He pulled himself up to his full on-the-short-side height and tried to walk with as much importance as he could muster. So what if he came third? Didn't mean he couldn't show a little grandeur. Lightning smirked as he joined them backstage.

"Heya Chick, recovered from that photo finish yet or are you still half dazed?"

Normally Chick would re-buck with a snarky remark but today he had more important things on his mind then bating with the young rookie. An irate scowl was suffix enough. "Put a shock in it rook, we all know how close I was to kicking your bumper today."

Lightning's smile only widened as he waved a playful finger at Chick. "Close, but not quiiiiite close enough."

Forget those more important things. Chick was just about ready to smack him one when Strip took it upon himself to play his regular job of peacemaker and stepped between the two rivals. He fixed them both with a stern glare. "Quiet children. Need I remind you the consequences of fighting at the trackside?"

Lighting's grin immediately faltered. Memories of a particular nasty scrap with Chick in the pits came back to him and he looked at the ground sheepishly. Chick merely tossed his head, opting to ignore the two racers until he got the interview over with.

A short time later Darrell sent a call backstage and trio were invited out to talk about their latest race. Strip stood in the centre of the three, with Chick on his left and Lightning on his right. Darrell stood in his regular flame-printed suit and smiled in greeting as they took their places. He took out a microphone and made his way over to Strip.

"So tell us Strip, what's it like winning another Piston Cup?"

Strip breezed through the questions as easily as the ones thrust upon him in the pits. Lighting was a little more restless, replying with his usual cocky attitude and swagger. Chick, despite fuming on the inside, put on a blustered show of bravado, basically blowing his own smoke. He finished with his most charming grin and declared that everyone better prepare for the 'Chick era'. What can I say? He's an egomaniac.

Satisfied with the interview Darrel thanked the three for their time and instructed them to stay for a few last moments. "Alrighty boys if y'all could just pose for a few shots for the papers and we'll let you get back to your teams to celebrate." He gestured to the hordes of photographers gathered around the base of the stage and moved to the side to allow the three racers some room.

This is my chance. A sly grin slowly crept its way onto Chick's face. He proceed to act casual, crossing his arms and flashing a confident smirk. McQueen gave a thumbs up and Strip took on a more serious look. Chick slowly counted the seconds in his head.

Hold up…now!

Just as the cameras were about to snap away Chick slung his arms around the King's shoulders and using two fingers pulled his cheeks into a goofy smile. Strip, surprised by the action, was unable to throw the other man off and was forced to struggle as the scene was broadcast to every racing network in the world.

A collective gasp went up in the stadium. Here was the one of the most respectable racers of the current series, the King no doubt, looking downright silly on live TV. It was enough to bring a giggle to any of the watching spectators.

Back on stage Darrel's jaw dropped; Strip's eyes bulged; Chick sniggered uncontrollably; Lightning looked as if his spare tires had just grown wings and flew away. No one attempted to rescue poor Strip for they were either too busy laughing or stuck in a stupor to be of any use.

After a few minutes Chick finally decided he'd got his point across and released the racer from his grasp. Strip immediately broke away and rounded on him, his eyes wide in surprise more than anger.

"What in Petty's name was that?!" If he didn't feel so embarrassed maybe he'd remember his own advice about starting pit fights. Chick merely shrugged his shoulders, the most innocent angel-like expression on his face.

"Just help'in you lighten up a bit. Seriously man, learn to smile every once in a while. It suits ya, you know."

With a final wink Chick turned on his heels and headed back to his trailer, leaving behind a very red-faced Strip. Lightning was the first to approach him, giving the racer a cautious poke on the shoulder.

"Hey Strip, uh, you alright there?" The racing veteran was glaring at the screen that Chick had disappeared behind, his eyes carrying an uncharacteristic dark glow. It was only a brief stint however, and soon enough Strip shook it off and retained his regular posture. He turned to Lighting with a friendly look, forcing a note of cheerfulness into his voice.

"I will be, son. As soon as I get the chance to return Chick's favour."

And there we go. I wasn't intending for this to be Strip/Chick but sometimes my shipping heart runs away when I'm writing so I'm sorry if it comes across like that XD Next chapter we see Strip get his revenge (oh dear...) and delve into headcannon carnage.

Please review with what you thought and thanks for reading :)