A/N: Hey guys; I'm trying something different and thought I might post it. I've already been told it wasn't my best work but I still wanna toy around with it. Lemme know what y'all think, and maybe some reviews would be nice, too.
Thanks y'all, and Stay Gold. :]
Disclaimer: I don't owe claims to the characters, I just gave them a new lease on life.
Chapter One: Let's Hear It For The Boy.
Laurel cupped a hand over her eyes while she surveyed the scene in front of her. Greasers filled the narrow two lane street, completely blocking it. All that could be heard was their gawking and a faint hint of music. Laurel moved through the crowd with some difficulty and tried to make sense of how word of the race had traveled so fast. It was really the one time one could see all outfits and their girls come together. Including her own.
It was true: in just a few short minutes she would be riding shotgun during a drag race that two greasers were competing in. They were playing for pinks, but Laurel was convinced that the boy she was riding with was going to win. Judging by the way the car looked and sounded when he pulled up, revving his engine to show off, Laurel was positive he had the race in the bag. She almost felt cocky about it while she listened to the bets being placed. She knew the one she'd be driving with tonight; Steve Randle equally and was ready for the race.
Stepping deeper into the crowd, Laurel hitched her thumbs into the pockets of her thin denim jacket and glanced around coolly. She skimmed the people who stood in front of her wondering where the guy was they were suppose to be racing. When a heavy hand came down on her shoulder, she damn near screamed but fought the urge by biting back on her lower lip. Turning slowly, she saw Two-Bit wearing a wide-eyed grin.
"There you are, Laur. Steve is looking for you." He stated, matter-of-factly, ushering her back toward where the cars were on a par, nose-to-nose.
"Is it time to go already?" She asked, grinning back. The feeling of shock washed away and replaced with wild and blinding excitement. It was an adrenaline rush every time she sat at his side because Steve never lost. The speed made her crazy, and secretly she knew Steve enjoyed watching her. Why else would he continually keep her in the car?
Two-Bit led her back to the gang, "Yeah, and Steve is looking for his good luck charm." He answered. There was something comical in his voice but Laurel couldn't pin point what it was that made him sound that way. Or maybe, he was just excited. She sure as hell was.
When she was in sight of the gang, Steve's eyes locked on her. A cocky grinned overcame his dark facial features and before she could register it, he was hauling her back toward the car with a firm grasp on her hand. "I almost thought you was wiggin' out on me." He teased. He earned himself a pout from Laurel, who sauntered behind him while they headed to the car.
"Never." She answered, climbing into the passenger seat with an amused grin to match his. "I'm kinda insulted that you think I'd leave you hangin' on Judgement day." She said with faux hurt in her eyes.
He tried his best to hide the smile that was threatening his lips.
x x x
Laurel leaned into the fabric of the seat and listened to the engine hum. The floor boards rattled under her feet each time Steve stepped down on the gas pedal. The guy next to him mimicked him. Laurel was sure he was trying to be intimidating, and it was to no avail. It only made him seem desperate. Black smoke clouded the air and caused some of the onlookers to cough and choke. Laurel laughed at their reactions but her face fell straight when Sylvia took her stance, arms held in the air.
In one hand she clutched a red scarf; with a smug grin on her face. Steve laid the pedal down, flinging gravel and dirt. Laural glanced at Steve, but his eyes never left the strip of drag in front of him. Laurel slid over and rested her hand on his knee as an earnest form of encouragement for what it was worth. She knew Steve would do just fine; she had complete trust in him.
Steve remained silent, only offering her a nod in return. She couldn't have asked for more. She didn't want to break his concentration.
Sylvia's arms dropped to her sides and Steve released the break. The car lurched forward and picked up speed at an at astonishing pace. Laurel rippled with laughter and gave Steve's knee a playful squeeze. He grinned at her, "When I win this, you wanna go down to the Dingo? Maybe celebrate with me some?" He asked.
Laurel glanced over, and noticed the rival vehicle, a 1954 Impala was gaining speed quickly. Now, that couldn't have that, could they?
"Steve, he's gaining." Her voice was huskier than normal with warning.
Steve's eyes traveled to the rear view followed by a steady stream of curses when he pushed the accelerator all the way to the floor and put his car into third gear. He couldn't lose this race; he spent too much time and put too much effort into fixing up this damn thing.
The impala quickly faded out of sight again and Steve draped an arm around Laurel's shoulders. "So, how 'bout that burger?" He asked.
"Watch the road, buddy, race ain't over, yet." She said, venom in her voice.
He frowned, his eyes looking back at the impala. Looks like he was going to have himself a new car. He beamed with pride as they crossed the finish line leaving his challenger in the dust. He should've known better than to play with the big boys. Served him right. Besides, a nice profit could be made off that junker if someone showed it some love... And; knowing how to drive never hurt anything.
Steve skid the car to a halt and glanced at Laurel who was laughing wildly in the passenger seat with her hand still on his knee. Something about the way she looked right now was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. She was beautiful, elegant, classy, and she knew the score for what it was worth. Steve appreciated that while he lingered there, watching as she tossed her head back in wild outbreaks of uncontrollable laughter.
It wasn't long before the driver side door of Steve's royal blue 1949 Chrysler flew open and he was hoisted out of his seat. Laurel's laughter came to an abrupt end when she noticed his absence. Climbing out of the open door, she breathed contentedly to find Soda standing there beside Steve. He wore his signature grin that would make any girl weak in the knees.
"Didn't know ya had it in ya." Said his opponent, offering out his hand. Steve took it and shook it firmly. Laurel's eyes lingered on the male clad in a stained white shirt and cuffed jeans. He almost looked like he used a whole bottle of grease on himself. He looked to Steve sheepishly, although he had to be pushing twenty years old. She thought she recalled seeing him hanging around with Tim Shepard's outfit; although she'd be damned if she could recall his name.
Steve smirked his signature smug grin and winked down at Laurel, "Anything is possible with my good luck charm." He remarked, "Now if you excuse me; I gotta go collect my earnings and I'm takin' Laur to the Dingo." Steve stomped away and Laurel couldn't help it when she swung herself into the driver's seat and glanced up at Soda. "Not to shabby." She offered coolly.
"Kid can drive." He offered with a shrug, and turned back to go in search of the others. Laurel sat in the driver's side of the bench seat for a moment, reflecting on what Steve said. Maybe he was right; maybe she was his good luck charm. She was fine with that so long as she could still hang around with him. She genuinely adored his company as much as she hoped he enjoyed hers.
He bounded back toward the car, hardly paying attention while he counted the cash he gathered and Laurel felt that was the perfect time. Raising to her feet, she took a few steps on unsure feet and sprung on him. The two tumbled back into the mud. The crowd took a step back in unison and stared down at the pair like they each had four heads. Laurel roared with laughter. Steve didn't find it amusing at all.
"The hell?" He demanded, sitting up right and glaring at the blond who laid on her back beside him, still laughing. Although she offered no real explanation Steve felt his heart skip a beat. It was one of those smiles. The same smile that won his heart so long ago; even if he refused the say-so. He wasn't suppose to feel this way; not about Laurel. She was the groups little sister. His little sister. It was flat out wrong to think of her in that matter, and yet he still wanted her laying in his bed.
x x x
Steve sat in the booth across from her at the Dingo, picking at what was left of his food and eyeing hers every so often. She had nibbled on a few things but had no real interest in eating what was in front of her. Steve, as usual, had purchased enough to feed a small army. An army of him, Laurel thought with a satisfied grin.
"Y'did real well, tonight." Laurel said after a moment. It was a daring attempt at conversation on her part. He caved.
"I always do good, so long as I got me my good luck charm." He answered.
Laurel stuffed a fry into her mouth and grinned at him, "What makes me good luck?" She questioned after a moment.
Steve leaned back in his seat and folded his arms over her chest, "What doesn't make you bad luck?" He contradicted.
Laurel considered the question for a moment, while Steve basked in the glory of a small victory. He was already cocky from winning the race and the Impala, and now he even shut Laurel up. Tonight was proving to be better than he ever even had the chance to expect.
"Anyway," Laurel muttered once it kicked in just what he was doing, "I think I ought'a on my way, I got work tomorrow."
Steve groaned. How'd he know she was going to pull this card? She was always working or at school. He only really saw her on the weekends, and even that was a sometimes thing. He hated the way her job tore her away, but he had to admit, he'd never seen her happier. In honesty, he wasn't exactly sure how he felt about her job. He just knew she was happy, and that was what counted. He just didn't see how anyone could be happy working in a place like the bowling alley down town. Socs high tailed it in and out of their all the time. Although; in retrospect he dealt with the socs a lot at the DX, too.
"Wanna ride?" Steve asked, glancing out the window at the impending darkness. The street lights had kicked on, casting an harsh yellow light across the pavement. He knew regardless of her answer, however, he was going to take her home.
Laurel snorted and as if on cue answered, "Do I have much of a choice?"
Steve was pleased with her reaction and pulled out the wad of winnings, placing a ten on the table before standing up and wrapping an arm around her neck. "'Sides, y'know ya wanna side a little extra time with me."
Laurel answered him by rolling her eyes while he pretended not to notice, leading her out with his arm around her. Maybe it sounded sinister, but Steve liked the idea of making it look like he was her property. He loved the idea of intimidating the others. No one bothered to touch what they thought belonged to Steve Randle, and those who tried were dealt with rather quickly. Back when he'd been dating Evie, he nearly killed a guy over her. Word traveled fast through Tulsa, although the story varied according to who you spoke to on the manner.
Steve's favorite but far-fetched tale was that he attempted to hang the poor guy from the DX sign because he caught him copping a feel at Evie. He never corrected the rumor, either. He liked it better when people feared him.
Laurel glanced at him, but he didn't meet her gaze. Instead, he pulled the passenger door open and when he was sure he was safe inside, he rushed to his own side of the car and slid into the drivers side. With one swift flick of the wrist, the engine ignited and growled to life. Steve wasted no time throwing the car into verse and pulling into the main drag's traffic.
They barreled down Front street and took a turn to Columbus Ave, his arm snaking along the back of the seat. With Laurel's house in sight, Steve eased the breaks and turned the wheel slightly until the car lingered at the curb. Glancing over, Laurel felt a bit uncomfortable. It was almost like Steve was waiting for something to happen but she had no idea just what it was he wanted.
"Thanks for the ride," She offered, climbing out of the car and shutting the door behind her.
Steve only offered her a smile. She stepped back and watched as he sailed away from the curb, sighing. Sometimes, she just didn't understand. It was like he was waiting on a miracle to happen but she never had the slightest idea what it was. Turning, she looked her small house over. It definitely looked like it belonged on the block. The porch sagged and in some spots the wood was rotting away. The paint had flaked away, leaving exposed dark wood.
Sighing, she shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other and hitched her thumbs in her pockets, heading up the steps. They gave under her weight and creaked loudly. It wasn't a shock to find no one home. She liked it better that way. That way there was no one to yell at her for being late. She could slip in and fall out before her father got in. Pushing the door back, she was greeted by empty liquor bottles littering the floor and the smell of cigarette smoke lingering in the air. The smell never left. The air even had a hazy appearance to it.
Sliding through the front door, she flicked a light on to better take in her setting. The furniture was old, ratty, and out dated but it was better than nothing. She only wished her old man would make an effort to clean up after himself now and then; but she knew it was no use. He never heard anything she said, so she just stopped trying all together.
Making long strides, she pushed through the living room avoiding the discarded bottles and down the hall way to her bed room. Stepping inside; she was more than relieved to find a clean area to relax in. Sitting down on the bed, she kicked her worn tennis shoes off and fell into the comforter. Rolling over on her side; Laurel forced her eyes shut and let out a loud yawn. She was going to be asleep before her father got home, and she was sure of that.