Disclaimer: I do not own Speed Racer. Any song lyrics that pop up in my stories belong to the original artist singing the songs. The OCs that appear belong to me. If you wish to use them, please send me a PM and we'll work something out.

Author's Note: After much re-reading of my own material, I have discovered this particular story arc is lacking in some of the details department. I am currently going through and adding a few things here and there to enhance the story so it doesn't feel so rushed to me. I hope everyone enjoys. I also want to take a moment and thank Oriana1 and GoldAngel2. If it had not been for their initial reviews to how incomplete this story felt to them, it never would have grown into the story it is now and the story arc it's created would not exist. Thanks, ladies. I appreciate your kind words and your encouragement.

The sun had not risen yet when a pair of deep blue eyes unveiled themselves to the world. Their owner, Greg "Speed" Racer, yawned as he woke up and rubbed the sleepiness out of his eyes. With a groan, he buried his face into his pillow. For a moment, he couldn't figure out why he had woken before his alarm clock went off. After all, he had set it for seven and it read 5:01 A.M. Greg frowned to himself as he stared as his clock.

'The race isn't until Saturday . . . Can't be that . . . I know I have to practice but not until Sparky gets back from Philadelphia and he won't be back until eleven . . . so why did I wake up before my alarm clock could go off?'

It took his sleep-addled brain a moment or so to get through the haze, but, when it did, he leapt out of bed, a huge goofy grin on his face. Sparky and Trixie were coming home today and he had a surprise for each of them, a very special gift in mind for Trixie.

'I can't believe I forgot something this important,' he berated himself as he grabbed everything he wanted. 'Especially after all the preparations I went through yesterday.'

Yesterday had been an adventure unto itself. The easy part had been washing the Mach Five at the end of the day but the rest . . . He wanted his car to sparkle and shine, to really look its best when he asked Trixie a very important question. Speed also wanted to look his best for the love of his life and to really impress her. He had visited at least ten jewelry stores before he finally found exactly what he was looking for, five different clothing stores before finding the right shirt to compliment his brand new suit, and it was just so he could surprise Trixie once she arrived home. Once the day had finally ended, he had gone to bed, only to have sleep elude him. Speed figured he probably managed to sleep a total of four hours before he awoke again.

Within moments, Speed had showered and dressed, donning the new black suit jacket of velvet he had commissioned five days prior. The jacket had been hand-tailored from the finest black velvet, not something he would wear normally but a special occasion called for a special outfit, and the pants were fitted to his specification. Speed had even tucked a blue velvet box tucked snug into one of the pockets. It was overkill, he knew but he could not help it. Every time he thought of Trixie and imagined her reaction to his surprise, he smiled and felt jumping around like a loon. He knew that this was destined to be the happiest day of his life.

Around 9 A.M., Speed arrived at the small café he and Trixie had agreed to meet at. The last four hours had been spent rehearsing and imagining her response. His heart had been racing since the night before and his hands trembled. He had always been nervous and excited before a race but not quite like this. This was something more. What he had to say to Trixie promised to change their lives forever and in a very good way. With the box still snug in his pocket, Speed fidgeted with the napkin, folding and refolding it until Trixie finally arrived.

He smiled when he saw her, noting that they had dressed rather similarly. She wore a tight-fitting black dress, and it accented every inch of her body. The mere sight of her stole his breath away.

"Hey, Trixie," he breathed.

"Speed," she nodded curtly as she sat down. He failed to notice that she did not smile in return. Indeed, he started talking, barely able to contain his excitement.

"I waited for you so we could order together. There's something I need to tell you and something that I want to ask . . ."

"That's nice, Speed. I have something I want to tell you, too."

"Oh? What is it?" He wanted to surprise her, but he felt he could a few minutes longer to ask her. She would not be expecting his gift or his question.

"Speed . . ." Trixie took a deep breath then blurted out, "I don't want to see you anymore. Ever."

"What?" He blinked, stunned by her statement. Surely he had not heard that right.

"I don't want to see you again," she repeated.

Speed sat there, his eyes blinking. His excitement, his happiness, his dreams . . . all had been dashed with a simple statement. A hollow void filled the pit of his stomach.

"Why?" he managed to whisper. The fiery glare she gave him made him want to shrivel up and disappear from her sight. Hell, he wanted to disappear from the face of the planet, never to be seen again. Her gaze left him feeling cold and speechless.

"Because," she hissed, "I saw you. I saw you in New York, you . . ."

"New York? But I wasn't in," he started to protest but she cut him off.

"Save it. I don't want to hear it. Take care of yourself, Speed. I hope you and that floozy have a nice life," she snarled. She then stood up and left.

The sharpness of her words sliced him to his soul. He felt himself bleeding though there were no physical wounds on his body. Why was she leaving? How could she have seen him in New York when he had been home while she vacationed in New York? What had he done to cause her to be so cold and callous that she would not even listen to him? He sat there, trying to think but his mind had gone blank yet reeled at the same time. Speed could not understand anything, and a shiver stole across his spine, traveling into his stomach. Slowly, ignoring the looks the patrons were giving him, Speed headed for the door . . .

* * *

"Speed?"

Speed looked up but barely recognized the speaker. After he had left the café, he had driven around aimlessly until he had come to a stop at the racetrack. Now he sat behind the wheel of the Mach Five, wondering where he had gone wrong with Trixie and how she could have seen him in New York when he had not been there in months. He blinked a couple of times, and his friend's form no longer looked as blurry and nondescript.

"Sparky?"

"Yeah . . ."

"What time is it?"

"Around one," came the reply.

"Oh . . . How was your trip to Philadelphia?"

The question was a forced one but he did not want to bring Sparky down with his news of Trixie leaving him. If he did, he feared he would break down and burden his friend with something no one should have to endure. He did not want to do that, even though he knew he could talk to Sparky about anything. The last thing he wanted to do was put Sparky in the middle of Trixie breaking up with him.

"Good," Sparky nodded. "What were you doing there, though? I thought you were going to stay here while Trixie and I went on vacation."

"I wasn't in Philadelphia," he stated, blinking. "I've been home, waiting for you guys to come back."

"I thought I saw you there," Sparky frowned. "At least, the guy looked like you. He was talking to another guy with a beard and they were looking under the hood of a car. They just looked so buddy-buddy, like he asked the other guy to be there . . . It made me rather mad to see that."

"It wasn't me . . ."

"Huh . . . anyway, the trip went very well. I was offered a job as head mechanic for an aspiring racer . . ."

"You were?"

Sparky nodded.

"What did you say?"

"I . . . I said I'd have to think about it but then I saw that guy and . . ."

"Oh . . ." Speed felt his chest constricting tighter and tighter until he could not breathe. His world had already started to crumble when Trixie left him and so coldly at that. Now it was crashing, and there was nothing he could to prevent it. "I see . . ."

"I'm sorry, Speed . . . if I hadn't thought it was you, I wouldn't have agreed to work with him. Maybe I can work for the both of you," he offered. "You know, be kind of freelance . . ."

How Speed managed to smile was beyond him but he did it.

"That'd be kind of tricky," he pointed out. "Not to mention counterproductive. Especially after the season ends and starts all over again. What happens if we end up racing at the same time? What would happen then? I don't want to put you in a position where you'd have to choose between me and him, you know?"

"I know," Sparky agreed. "I'll talk with him, see what I can arrange. I don't want to abandon you. You're my best bud."

"Thanks, Sparky."

Speed fell silent, resting his chin on the Mach Five's steering wheel. He knew Sparky would try his best to work for both teams, but it would prove to be counterproductive in the end. For starters, the other driver's sponsors would not allow it, and neither would Pops. A decision would have to be made by Sparky sooner or later, and he did not want to rob his best friend of what appeared to be the opportunity of a lifetime.

"You okay, Speed?"

"Hmmm?"

"You look kind of down. What's up?"

"Nothing," he answered quickly. "Everything's fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Speed nodded. Sparky did not look like he believed him but did not press the issue. Fortunately, his best friend spared him from saying anything more or from trying to convince him to practice. His heart was not into racing or into practicing. He simply did not care at that moment.

"How about we skip practice today?" Sparky suggested. "You look like you could use some rest."

Speed just nodded and paid no attention as Sparky said farewell then left. After a few moments, he started the engine . . .

* * *

The Mach Five chose the destination. All he had done was start engine, as usual. Time meant nothing as he drove. He thought he had stopped once or twice, possibly to fill up and use the bathroom, but he could not be entirely sure. All he did know was that, when he finally did reach a destination, he had parked the Mach Five somewhere and walked around until he stopped outside a huge, ornate basilica. He only knew of one basilica in the U.S. and its home was in Philadelphia.

He stared at the building as people walked by him, their business keeping them from asking him anything or saying anything. Tour trolleys drove by him, often stopping to show people the very building he gazed at with dull and lifeless eyes. All he needed was to go inside, find a way to get to the top. A quick jump and it would be over for him. Yet Speed couldn't bring himself to go inside and find his way to the top.

'There must be a reason why I'm here. But what? What is it?'

He simply did not know.