Speed Racer
Chapter Un: A Reason for Victory
Some things in the story have been modified from the movie for a better story line. Thank you.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. No matter how much I wish I did.
Trixie whooped and jumped into Speed's arms as he stood in front of the Mach 6 with his arms out wide to catch her. Her slippered feet padded across the tiles of Victory Lane as she raced toward him. She got first place too, beating Spritle, Pops, Mom, Sparky and Chim-Chim. He craned his neck toward her and she bent her head down. Their lips met just as the finale of fireworks for his win went off and the crowd went wild as their intimate moment filled the big screen of the stadium. Speed pulled away and they both looked toward the camera, their smiles looking down over the fans.
Spritle and Chim-Chim got there next, hugging Speed after he set Trixie down. As they stepped back, their overalls brushed against each other and the little boy and the monkey looked at each other. Speed's tight, white, leather racing suit stretched and crinkled as he hugged Mom Racer and then Pops. "I'm proud of you, Son," Pops said, patting Speed heavily on the back, "…still proud."
Trixie couldn't stop smiling as she watched Speed spin around and air hug the crowd, who went wild all over again. She followed a drop of sweat all the way from his hairline to his jaw line, the salt in it glistening, before it fell to the tiles below Speed's feet. As it splashed onto the red and white, the sounds and lights dimmed for Trixie, suddenly sounding distant and unreal, like someone had turned the volume down on the T.V. as she left the room. She blinked slowly, hearing her own breath all of the sudden. Something was wrong.
She looked up, at first only seeing Inspector Detector. Creasing her forehead by bringing her eyebrows nearly together she saw someone standing beside him. She gasped, it was Racer X, but as she looked again, he seemed more familiar than the driver who had showed up at Speed's house last year to ask him for his help in the Casa Cristo. She brought her tongue over her bottom lip, as it felt very dry at the moment, and then brought it between her teeth, like she often did when she was worried. Racer X's hands were on the glass in front of him, as they always stood up at the top of the stadium, in that room Trixie had been in only once, and even from here Trixie thought he looked pained. He seemed as though he wanted to reach out and embrace Speed, but why would he feel so strongly toward Speed, especially as another driver who would want to win races. He must have felt her watching because, eyes wide, he turned to look at her.
Just then, as he opened his mouth in a gasp that was silent to her, if not everyone, she felt someone tugging on her arm. She'd know it was Speed's hand around her wrist anywhere, and she reluctantly brought her head down, her eyes following suit, last, and it hurt her heart to pull her gaze away from who she was sure was more important than he'd ever let on. "Trix, Trix, what's wrong?"
"Nothin'," her voice was distant, slow and distracted. She couldn't focus on his face and that upset not only her, but Speed as well. She shook her head a little, wondering why Racer X's reaction to Speed affected her so much. Maybe he respected Speed, maybe he looked down on him as a little brother. Trixie gasped, a hand flying to her mouth, her skinny fingers covering his red lip-sticked mouth.
Speed suddenly looked very concerned, "Trix, what is it?" But this time he got nothing out of her except a head shake. "Trix…"
"SPEED RACER!" a big hand came down between Speed's shoulder blades in a supposed-to-be-affectionate way. He winced, but didn't let go of Trixie's wrist, nor did he turn around. He gave her a pleading look with his eyes and she nearly forgot about Racer X as those beautiful pools of blue bore into her. She felt her face relax and he gave her the smallest of smiles. "Racer, young man, you're an amazing driver. I want you-" But Speed wasn't listening, he was still staring at Trixie, though it didn't make her uncomfortable as it would've with anyone else. She stared back for a moment before Pops interrupted them, a hand on Speed's shoulder, spinning him around.
"Decline politely, son," he said. Speed opened his mouth, but no words came out.
"No thanks, Bozo," Spritle growled, pointed a fat finger up at the sponsor. "No. Thanks."
Mom motioned for Speed to go into the locker rooms, so they could head home. With his hand on the doorknob, the door itself ajar already, Speed looked back at Trixie, just before disappearing inside, and their eyes met between the twenty feet now between them and he didn't smile, instead, his mouth was set in a thin line and he raised both eyebrows at her and Trixie knew that if he'd been standing right next to her, he would have whispered the words We'll talk about this later right in her ear.