A/N: fourth chapter. There is a slight time gap intended between the cuts; something like one or two days.

Enjoy!

The Female Nine Year Old National Criminal

"You?" Vanellope asked, a look of confusion painted all over her face so obviously Candlehead actually felt kind of pitiful. "You're going to help me make a kart?"

She shrugged, trying to brush off the mental nagging, the constant loop in her mind that said you're getting into trouble, there's no backing out, you can't undo this, you're breaking the law. "I have th' tools, th' knowledge an' the will."

"But… Why?" She looked so puzzled. Was it really that hard for her to believe there was someone out there willing to fight with her?

Candlehead bit her lower lip, her own daringness meeting her own not-daringness in an awkward clash that built a storm in her innards. "Well why not?"

Vanellope had no answer, she just slowly shook her head and stared at her in disbelief.

The mint girl felt so painfully awkward. Her mind wrote several sentence beginnings to no avail. She had a mental stutter, trying to somehow break her confusion to make her focus on the topic at hand.

She wished she hadn't been as blunt as she was. "alright then, stop givin' me fool eyes an' let's get to the plannin', shall we?"

The glitch chuckled. "You're serious," she said, her speech slower that usual. "You're doing this for real."

"I never said I was jokin'."

The mint racer wasn't sure where her smug responses were coming from. She sometimes thought, in sleepless nights, that there were sides to her that she had no idea existed until they manifested, and that she was dumb enough to not even fully know herself. Facing situations was her way to discover more sides to the multi-faceted tridimensional form that was her own being. This daring, snarky, adventurous side was something new.

"I can't believe it."

I can see it all over your face, girl.

"Focus, V'nellope. Makin' a kart isn't like a nice stroll in th' Town Square Park. We gotta plan it super well, or we'll be in trouble if th' King finds out."

"We? Sounds like too much people to me. That guy wouldn't want you ta help me out."

"We," Candlehead repeated. "That guy doesn't want me ta help YOU out."

The other girl seemed to be finally assuming that no matter where she went, Candlehead would put her back into place. Maybe there is nothing to do but trusting her.

"Now," the mint girl said, snapping her out of her brief reflection . "We gotta get back ta plannin', ye?"

Vanellope sat down in front of her, her expectation for whatever came next growing by the second as the reality of what was going on finally sank. It didn't seem like a senseless lie that would end in torture anymore, but something actually legit. She wished someone—someone other than Candlehead— could pinch her, just to fact-check it wasn't some construct of her mind or a dream. "What have ya got in mind, pal? I hope you do have something, maybe something smart, after the map incident…"

"That was sumthin' else!" The other one replied, embarrassment rising to her face in a matter of seconds. She would have thought they were allies now. "I've had much more time ta think this over." She actually was kind of ashamed at how well she had thought everything out, based on her observation and the tools she disposed of. She was sure that, more than brainstorming, this session would be more about her explaining her plan. "How much time d'ya think I've been watchin' you?"

"I dunno. I just found your kart one day, and other days you were just so obvious. I'm not shocked, not after that one night—"

"Will ya stop remindin' me of that?!" she interrupted, flustered. "Okay, th' point is, I've been watchin' ya since June last year!" She tried her best to ignore Vanellope's weirded out look, her face that said 'stalker' all over. "Dun ask. The real point is, I've somethin' planned out."

"Yeah, okay," Vanellope said, her look of distrust not vanishing. "But I hope ya didn't see me use the potty—"

"VANELLOPE! Please try to— Try to pay attention ta this thing, will ya?!"

The glitch laughed, obviously finding joy in her flustering. She wondered if this was some sign that she was warming up, or just a low-scale revenge for… Everything.

"Okay, so here's the thing," Candlehead started, finally summoning her attention.

"First, we gotta make some rules that I have ta tell ya."

"Okay," Candlehead said, a paper sheet placed on the floor and between them. "I am a racer an' what we're doin' is really dangerous, but ye have much potential, so we're gunna have ta make rules so it's nice for the both of us."

Vanellope nodded, ignoring the disappointment echoing inside. It was obviously not going to be so easy.

"Rule one: no goin' to the kart bakery. It's glitch-proof. Yer forbidden there an' every move you make there is recorded and I can't keep up with makin' some excuse for a whole kart. We're makin' this ourselves. No kart bakery."

She took the pen she had brought and scrabbled on the paper NO KART BAKERY.

The glitch bit her lower lip, but ultimately agreed. That meant they would not have a real kart, an official, race-licensed vehicle. Still, it was better than nothing. "Okay."

"Rule two: Your kart won't be exactly like ours. Ya were makin' peddle powered machines, an' the blueprints we make are goin' to be for a kart with peddle power. It can have an engine and so, but you're not gunna have the pedals and thingies our karts do. Too dangerous. I'm gonna help you with all that thing of plannin' how to mix peddles with engines."

Again she wrote, this time NO GAME-LICENSED-LIKE KARTS.

The other girl sighed. Yes, sure, Candlehead could not be as friendly as she expected. You're still not supposed to exist. What she's doing… it's just good will.

"Rule three: You won't be a racer unless you earn it."

Okay, now that made her snap. "Whaddaya mean I won't be a racer?! Then what is this whole business for? Decoration?!"

"Calm down," was the stern reply. "I'm gunna get you inside a Random Roster Race. If ya win, ya'll be a racer. That's up to you, jus' like it's up to us, every day, in the Random Roster Race. And rule four: You gotta learn to handle that glitch. Glitch once in a true race, and we're done for. It ends. Bye. Game over."

The glitch gulped, recoiling slightly at the stern reaction and the end warning. It was truly dangerous. She guessed she'd have to practice controlling it on her own. She had been capable of handling it to her own advantage after nine years of coexistence with it. Maybe, if she tried hard enough, for her dream, she'd be able to make it bend to her will under the pressure of races.

"Okay," she accepted, mildly intimidated.

Candlehead wrote YOU WILL EARN YOUR PLACE and CONTROLLED GLITCHING on the paper and handed it over to Vanellope. "These are our rules. Remember them."

"I've been leaving for a while now, so Taffyta and Rancis and all th' others probably don't think it's suspicious. So 'm gonna come help ya here after I'm done with the races an' some days when I dun make it into the Roster.

The first thing we have ta do is blueprints, but you obviously know only th' basics, so really, when we think about it step-by-step, the first step is ya learn a bit about what yer goin' to build."

"Okay, there she is." She pointed over to the Ice Screamer, stopped and willing. She pulled a toolbox out of the kart's rear and dropped it next to Vanellope, opening it. Various wrenches of diverse sized and miscellaneous tools were stored inside. "Every racer has one o' these box babes. But since ya dun have one, we gotta share mine." She smiled, and just then, she popped the front of the kart right open, exposing the engine.

She couldn't help but smile at Vanellope's face as she peeked over thecomplex machinery, staring at it as if it was something sacred. Her eyes practically sparkled as she took in all the detail of the candy parts, looking over and over and over at every bit.

It took a a while for the candle expert to pull out the engine, but once she had it in her hands, it was much easier to explain. "Okay, so you see this little thingamajig?" she pointed at a little gear and set it in motion. "That's the point o' the whole thing, makin' the little thingamajig spin. Yannow why? B'cuz the thingamajig sets this little other thingamajig in motion." She stood up and guided Vanellope to the now-split-in parts Ice Screamer—she did have to move a lot to remove the engine—, and pointed at another small gear in the rear axle. "R'member the chain I had ta pull out to get th' engine out? Well th't chain connects the two thingamajigs, so when one moves, the other moves too, and since the engine is strong, the spinnin' goes very fast. An' that's how karts work, that's how they move an' go fast."

She walked over to the front axle. "These wheels do nothin'. They might as well not spin, but then th' kart wouldn't move, so they're very loose an' when the back wheels spin, these follow. But these are attached to the steering wheel," she traced the whole connection with her finger. "So when ya steer, these follow the direction of yer steerin' while the back wheels always go straight. So, puttin' it easy: Back wheels move the thing, and front wheels control the direction. Didja get all that?"

Vanellope nodded, taking in all the information. "Can we split the engine out?"

"It's too complicated," Candlehead said. "It'd take hours ta put it back, an' I usually dun dig on it unless something needs fixin'. But dun worry, that's the one part we don't gotta make blueprints for."

"Why not?" the glitch asked, sitting down and moving the small gear, touching the whole engine all over in interest. "Where will you get the engine from that isn't the kart bakery?"

"R'member I said I had the knowledge? Let's say I… Kind of know how to use a lawnmower engine as an engine for a kart."

Vanellope looked up. "You're for real? How do you even know that!?"

She stifled a giggle and scratched the back of her head awkwardly. "I've tried lots o' stuff, but I don't tell anyone."

"Why not? I'd die to know all these tricks if I was a racer."

Candlehead tried to not let that part get to her too bad. "B'cause no one ever asks."

The glitch was silent for a few seconds in reflection. "You… don't have exactly the best reputation over there, do you?"

Candlehead's eyes fell, she smiled, but the smile was nothing but an empty gesture of her mouth. "I was programmed with low AI. I'm not a good racer by default, 'm very clumsy, I forget everythin' all the time, I'm no good at leadin'… I even have a coded weird speech pattern. That's why I talk weird. An' I guess they dun look any further than that. I had ta force myself to learn an' remember and try and move with my two left feet. 'S great effort to learn everythin', an' I sort of have a fame of bein' an idiot with them."

She sighed. "But there are good things ta that. They never suspected me, not even when I came to watch you. They jus' thought I was doin' weird things an' left me alone. It's a double-edged sword."

Vanellope said nothing back, merely staring at the floor and twiddling her thumbs, slightly uncomfortable. "They're always jerks."

"Taffy's my friend," she answered, thoughtful. "Rancis is my friend too. But they dun like to look at my drawings or read my stories… They like th' cupcakes, though. And they always take care of me…

"I guess 'm jus' not like them. Maybe it was my AI or… something."

Awkward, heavy, almost painful silence fell over the scene.

Candlehead was the first to pop it with a fingertip. "Anyway, I forgot to tell you that the engine works with hot diet cola extracted from springs spread over Sugar Rush, and that what it does is get into the engine through a tube, where it is combusted…"

"So after you learn what you gotta learn, we can get started with the actual thing. Ya can help me make blueprints for what you want the wheels an' the exterior to be like, an' I'll solve the inner problems like the engine stuff."

Candlehead peered over the drawing. "If yer gonna use cake like me, make sure the dough is really consistent because cake's really soft. 's a tough material for an exterior. The one part I dun like of the Ice Screamer. May I suggest cookies?"

"But cookies have to be baked to make the shape of a cover, " Vanellope said, "and you said no bakery."

"Good point," she replied, still looking at the drawings. " You know what I think would make a cool kart? Candy cane. We just gotta saw a section off the trees and hollow it. I have th' tools for all that. And it's resistant."

Vanellope looked up. "I like your idea." She took her improvised pencil and started sketching in yet another sheet of paper, using the candy cane idea. "Though the kart will end slightly thick."

"Rancis' kart is very thick, but it still can move quite well. Ya should be fine."

The glitch shrugged in silent and continued drawing while Candlehead went back to disassembling the engine, sacrificing her lawnmower. "Vanny, did ya—"

"Vanny?"

"What, didja just want me to call you Vanellope von whatever every time I wanna call you? That's a mouthful!"

"It's von Schweetz," Vanellope corrected, frustrated. "At least I have a last name." she started sketching out wheels. Cookies seemed to be resistant enough. She didn't like donuts; they seemed too fragile, too prone to breaking, and too soft. Cookies were far more solid, even easier to find in the Junkyard.

A loud clank echoed as the lawnmower moaned in complaint at the removal process. "Hey, I know my creators weren't th't creative, but I can't help m' name, " she said, and added a slightly sad "just like my AI."

Vanellope looked further down, not at the drawing anymore, but at her own legs below the drawing board she had borrowed from the mint racer. In a way, they were both outcasts, even if what Candlehead had to face wasn't nearly as brutal. There was no point of comparison, but Candlehead wasn't fully accepted in her peer circle, either. She said they all treated her like a friend and tried to understand her, but the muttering about her accidents and her racing skills and other things behind her back was incessant. She wondered why, why would this benevolent and multi-talented girl be ignored because of…

Because of something in her code, just like you.

"Vanny?"

She snappedback to reality. "Yeah?"

"Can I call you 'Vanny'?"

She laughed. Silly thing, you. "You already did. I see no problem."

The lawnmower's frame creaked. The engine was loosening. "Good."

Vanellope turned her attention back to her sketches: If there was something their encounters always centered on, it was conversation and awkward silence in a permanent loop, until the moment their meetings ended.

"Hey," she called, after the needed while of silence cut only by the noises of the lawmmower and the pencil against the paper.

"Hm?"

"Aren't you sad to sacrifice the lawnmower?"

She laughed. "I could go to jail for this. Helpin' out any potential permanent damage to the game, like an unpluggin', is Game Treason of the highest caliber. You can get yer code deleted for this stuff. I can be thrown in the Fungeon because everyone says you can cause permanent damage, but 'm still here. The lawnmower means nothin'."

Vanellope lost her concentration once again, the pencil drooping to her side. Yet she's still here. "Why… Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me if everyone says it's wrong?"

Candlehead tossed the lawnmower aside and wiped her forehead. The sun was strong in Sugar Rush, and its heat—stronger at forest clearings—, mixed with the exercise, had gotten to her eventually.

"Well," she started, "I know 's dangerous, and all th't stuff, but I saw you plannin' karts an' fighting so bad for yer dream and you jus'… Looked like you had the potential. I feel you'd be a good racer if you didn't have the glitch thing. You could say I have faith in ya." She chuckled after that, taking a deep breath and returning to the lawnmower.

The apparatus finally gave in, and she dropped it next to herself. "Th' powerhouse for yer kart. Come look at it."

Vanellope put the drawing board aside and moved over to the engine, observing it with curiosity. "Well, whatever you said. I'm leaving this one on your hands."

"Trust me, 's gonna be fine." She patted it, content with the result of her work. "As I was gonna say before, Vanny, didja see the paper rolls I brought? Ya should. Those are blueprints. I had to stay up late," she giggled, "but I managed to solve our main dealie. I found a way to connect peddles to th' engine so you can impulse it with each push you give. Ya jus' leave that to me."

The other girl smiled, staring at the motor with hopeful eyes.

"Now," the mint racer continued, "we need a place to move this thing to. Yannow. Like a place to store th' kart parts."

"Yannow what the good thing is? They aren't gunna notice and I can shrug them off easily while we gather the materials and so."

"Where are you going with that saw?"

Candlehead abruptly stopped the kart. I'm going to the forest with that saw to cut down a candy cane tree that we're going to need to make a kart for the Glitch. Nothing of your business, friend.

She froze in the seat, unable to make up an excuse in such a short amount of time. Taffyta was already approaching her, and she was sweating cold. Think. Think. Think of something.

"Seriously, Candles, you've been leaving places for a long time now, but you never bought anything like that with you. What exactly have you been doing for more than half a year?"

Taffyta hopped out of the Pink Lightning, the exact way she had actually managed to approach her fast enough to ask about the saw, and put her forearms in the door of the Ice Screamer.

Candlehead drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. She had nothing.

"You haven't been going with us when we go for the Glitch, also. Candlehead, I don't know what you're doing, but that's Game Treason. King Candy told us a long time ago. Have you forgotten all about it?" Her tone was legitimately riddled with concern and compassion. "I don't want my best friend in jail because she has been doing her own… unique things. Leave that saw aside. We have to go push her back today. It looks that whatever she has planned, she has advanced in it. Please come with us and stay out of trouble."

The cake racer bit her lower lip. "When are you going for her?"

The strawberry girl sucked on the lollipop a little. "Right now, that's why I was looking around for you. I'm sure your little cabin in the woods can wait. We have to go. You have to go."

A chill shot up the other girl's back. No. Please not right now. She shuffled uncomfortably in her seat. There was no time. No time to tell Vanellope, so she wouldn't wait for her eagerly. No time to explain that she still had to camouflage between the racers before it all occurred. No. She'd had to betray her then and there, with no reason whatsoever.

It was all fun and games until reality came to slap her in the face, and it was sure to give her a regular slap.

There was also no excuse to say no to her best friend.

"Alright. I'll get back to workin' after we're done with this."

Taffyta's expression of concern softened in relief. "I'm glad. Please don't give us that kind of scare. We worry about you, even if you're a little weirdo, you know."

And with that, she got up in the Pink Lightning. "I'll meet you at the forest edge, if you don't follow me, that is." She revved up her engine and shot one last glance towards the cake kart. "I won't go without you. I don't want you having problems."

And so, she was gone.

Candlehead felt like she could throw up that instant. That was nausea, actual nausea, as she recognized she had been bonding with the other girl and how dangerous it was, as what she was about to do finally sunk in with all its consequences and as her mind played imaginary flashes of Vanellope's reaction when she attacked out of the blue.

She checked under the seat. At least her personal first aid kit was there. She had a mean to redeem herself.

Maybe shrugging them off isn't going to be as easy, she thought, remembering her speech to Vanellope the day of the agreement. We're going to have to plan something for this stuff.