Challenge- single character, object.
Set in mid or end of season 1.
Lee Stetson drove his silver Corvette every day. It was a quiet, smooth ride; Lee was fond of drawing his fingers along the dashboard, checking his digital oil pressure gauge, and revving so that his green RPM graph would illuminate and rise in synchrony with his pedal push. This was his call -and -response with his loyal four-wheeled partner.
Some days, Amanda, his not-quite-partner, rode along with him. On those days, the air in the car would change. When she was in the passenger seat and he was a two feet away from her, he felt sparks crackling between them. They often spoke cordially at first. Here's the assignment… here's what Billy needs you to do… Amanda would nod and ask a few practical questions. Lee had begun to predict and eventually dread the how long will this take- because I have to get back for… question. He would quickly lose patience with her around that issue. At first it just struck him as unbecoming a dedicated government agent. Then he began to feel a personal pang of pain whenever her look of "concern about time" faced him. He had invested some energy into taking her to Ned's to share his after-hours life with her- at her request, too. That after-hours life was soundly rejected every time he saw that just don't want to be late for… look. He had to admit- it hurt. She clearly wasn't interested in planning the time to spend with him. During the ride, he would end up blurting out some belittling comment about what she can and cannot handle. Then her voice would take on a mono-tone, her parting words as she swung the passenger door closed were accompanied by a forced little smile. But she always left something behind….
Amanda's scent wasn't dominating; it was, especially after racing around with him on a job, pronounced when she sweat. Charming and persistent, like her personality, the mix of understated perfume and Amanda-ness had been embedding into the leather seat during the numerous occasions she had spent leaning into it. The smell remained long after she had gone, as if to reserve her spot. She sort of stayed with him as he drove alone home. Only occasionally did her fragrance compete with those of one of his black book connections. Those perfumes were usually pungent , supposedly "sexy", and straight out of a racy Dior advertisement. His nose would always search for Amanda's presence again when he returned to his car the morning after a date, completely subconsciously.
Another day, another quiet ride. Lee inhaled deeply, picking up the air from the passenger seat and inadvertently triggering a series of images of Amanda in his brain. It's good for me to have her around, isn't it? Lee thought to himself, his head half-cocked towards her seat. The Vette made no response, as if to agree silently. He shook himself admonishingly out of his day-dream and revved up again, focusing on the green lamps of his RPM indicator and fighting hard to turn away from Maplewood drive.