A/N Okay, okay, I stalled on my other story and this one popped out of nowhere. I welcome comments suggestions, reviews, etc. I'm calling it done, but it feels like it mightn't be, so you never know!

Kinship

Chapter 1

It was and had never been a spoken thing. It just was. They'd known each other as long as they could remember, and once they got past those awkward early adolescent squabbles, it was secured. For almost 40 years, the two had been best friends.

Lewis, as the man who had procured the car, got the honor of driving her first. A 1970 Chevy Monte Carlo, it looked like an old man's car by today's standards. But Bobby and Lewis knew better. What was under the hood was what mattered. This car was solid muscle. Both grinned like schoolboys as Lewis hit the interstate. Given a nod of encouragement, Lewis gunned it for the hell of it.

They were smart enough to back off after a few miles. No reason to risk an expensive ticket. They had plenty of miles to go; plenty of highway between here and Chicago.

They planned to drive it in two days. Bobby had a week off, and Lewis could take as much time as he needed. The plan was to drive until they tired the first day, then finish the trip the next.

They didn't talk much the first hour, except to gush about the car. Finally, after a pit stop and a bag of chips, Bobby took the wheel. "You barely have to touch the wheel," Bobby said as he passed a car like a Nascar driver.

"I know. My guys did a great job with her."

"Your guys? You didn't work on this baby yourself?"

Lewis shrugged. "I've been… busy."

"Give it," Bobby prodded.

"Her name's Sarah," Lewis said, as his cheeks reddened.

Bobby smiled. "And Sarah is…?"

"Hot."

They both chuckled.

"She's a realtor. I was looking for a summer place, and well… you know."

Bobby nodded approvingly. "How long?"

"4 months."

"Long time for you."

"She's pretty busy. We don't see each other more than a couple of times a month. Until last month." Lewis sucked down half of his soda. "She moved to the city and well, I let her stay at my place while they were… remodeling her new apartment."

"Lewis!" Bobby smacked his friend on the leg. "Good for you!" He grew quiet as they traversed the next few miles. "If things are moving along, why didn't you… you know, ask her on this trip?"

Lewis looked over at his friend. "Elaine would kill me if I came without you, Bobby. You're the brother she never had."

Bobby looked confused. "You're her brother, Lewis."

"Yeah, but you're nothing like me, man."

Alex Eames was spending the weekend with her family. Her nephew Nate, now 8 years old, had asked her to teach him to play chess. They sat on her sister's patio, the board on the glass table between them.

"I don't know why you want me to teach you this, Nate. It's not really my game. Unless you just want someone easy to beat."

The boy smiled. "Aunt Alex, if I play with Uncle Bobby, one of two things would happen: either he would think so much between his moves that the game would never end, or he'd stomp me in the first two minutes and that would be it. With you, I stand a chance."

Alex smiled proudly. "More than a chance, I'd say," she muttered as he removed her bishop from the board.

"Do you know why the pawns strike diagonally, even though they move straight?"

She shook her head.

"Because they're supposed to be, like, knights from way back when, with big shields in front of them. They can't strike forward, because the big shield is in the way, so they hold their lances sticking out to one side." He raised his eyes to meet hers, his head still hunched over the board. "I read about it."

"That's really cool, Nate. You'll have to share that with Bobby."

"Why didn't he come?" Nate asked.

"He's on a trip with his friend. Lewis's sister is getting married."

"Where?"

"Chicago."

"That's a long way."

Alex smiled. "They're driving a cool car. I'm sure they're happy." As she sacrificed her queen to her nephew, she recalled how Bobby had talked incessantly about the Monte Carlo on Friday. He was happy just thinking about that car; by now he would be full-out in a drunken euphoria.