A/N: Naturally, what kind of fic by me would this is if there wasn't any SlyCarm action in it, eh? Enjoy! Oh, and there is absolutely nothing related to this fic and Talladega Nights, its just a coincidence that they take place at the same speedway.
Sorry for the long ass update, finally got a new connection so I can now use the internet as long as possible; homework has been wearing the hell out of me, and I've been having trouble on how I should do this chapter. So R&R big time!
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Rolling Thunder Talladega Super Speedway-1500hrs"You're gonna win… you're gonna win…" Murray inaudibly muttered to himself.
He gripped hard on the wheel, the leather of his gloves squeaking from the strain. He had gone through the drill hundreds of times, but never was he more edgy than the moments before the race. It was hard mask his instincts, in fact, he felt much more comfortable taking the tight turns and close quarters of driving through city back streets while being pursued by multiple police cruisers, much like the botched Cairo heist. In fact, he treated racing exactly like a police pursuit.
There was the wave of the flag and the vans took off, Murray surprisingly taking fifth place by the first turn. Now it was only a matter of time.
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Paris, France-Sly's Apartment-1600hrs"You can do this…I can do this…" Sly said to himself, fixing the tie on his suit. "…I CAN'T DO THIS!"
When it came to flirting with Carmelita, he was just fine, but now he was on a formal date with her, and he was as nervous as hell. Whenever he looked into the mirror, he looked like he had gone through hell, no matter how many times he had fixed up his hair, or ironed his shirt, or shined his shoes. At one point he accidentally got a drop of shoe polish on his hand and took another shower.
"Please let this go well," he said to no one in particular as he took his seat behind the wheel of his car.
Carmelita was just as nervous. She didn't even notice that the three dresses she tried on was really the same one. She had been used to Sly's flirty remarks, but now she was on a date with him, of all the things she thought wouldn't happen, she wasn't so sure about some things. Almost every woman at the office had been turned on by Sly's performance at the bank robbery; after all, since when had a single cop taken on five guys armed with AK-47's using just his go given fists and feet? Probably never. There was a knock on her apartment door and she quickly straightened her dress.
"You're late," she said as she opened the door.
"Stopped to pick these up," Sly said, holding out bouquet of flowers. "For you."
Carmelita gave a silent gasp as she accepted the flowers. Of all the guys she'd dated, he was the first one who actually pitched in the money for a decent, if not beautiful, bouquet of flowers. "They're beautiful."
"Like you," Sly added.
This made Carmelita blush heavily, and she was given no other choice but to head into the kitchen to get the flowers water and recompose herself.
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Police Ball-1700hrsThe Police Ball was held at the Hotel Grande, just outside of Paris. A roadway led to a half-tunnel underneath the building and branched off into an underground parking lot. Hotel Grande was as the name suggested: big and grand. Nestled into the hillside, most of the rooms were given a gorgeous view of the valley, especially the ballroom. The ballroom itself was a two story room that took up most of the main floor, just below the lobby, and had a long walkway spanning the full width of the room, allowing the best view of the valley. On it's clearest day, one could see for miles.
People were mostly talking, with the exception of those dancing out in the middle of the ballroom. And several stopped to stare in awe as the two partners entered the room and headed for a table. Two guys talking stared silently when one finally broke the silence and said, "Pay-up, they hooked up." The other guy ended up pulling out a wad of cash from his inner jacket pocket and handed it to the first.
"When your toes are long an jagged enough…" Sly muttered. "…that you swoop down on a lake and catch a trout with them, it would be a good idea to say no to the open toes shoes."
Carmelita realized that Sly was looking at a woman who was wearing open toes high heels and sure enough, her toes were horrible looking. She gave a muffled laugh, but it caught Sly's attention.
"Do it again," Sly said.
"Do what?" Carmelita asked, confused.
"Smile," Sly said a smile forming on his face. "I don't think I've seen you smile like that before."
Upon breaking the ice, the two began to talk. Sly hadn't had a conversation with her like this since when he was being moved after defeating Clock-La. Meanwhile, a pair of eyes gazed at the two in malice.
Dexter Smyth was the jackass of Interpol, and also one of the biggest ass's around. He quickly stopped a waiter who was quickly going towards the couple for any drink requests. He quickly stuck a fifty euro note in the waiter's jacket.
"Whatever he asks for, put this in his drink," Dexter said, slipping a small thing of eye moisturizer.
"Sure thing sir," the waiter said.
A few minutes later, Dexter decided to crash the couple's conversation, setting his drink down.
"Hey if it isn't the ringtail and his partner, the hotter than hell Carmelita Fox, may I say you look lovely," he started.
"Go away Dex," Carmelita growled.
Right then, the waiter reappeared and settled Sly's drink next to Dex's. Unfortunately, Sly had ordered the same drink that Dex had.
"Look, I'm just here to ask if you'd leave this loser and get it on with me," Dex said, taking a swig of his drink.
"Beat it Casanova, go seduce yourself!" Carmelita growled.
"Me and Miss Fox are busy," Sly interjected. "So if you don't mind, why don't you just leave us alone, and return to whatever nudie mag you were 'one man banding' to in the bathroom."
"You think you could talk that way about me?" Dex yelled, attracting attention from a few people. "It may have happened once, but let's get this straight…" Suddenly there was a loud groan from his lower stomach and he became twitchy. "Wrong drink," he strained to mutter as he clutched himself. "Hold that though and stay right there!"
Dex ran off, heading for the bathrooms. Sly simply chuckled.
"I saw him tell the waiter to slip the eye moisturizer in my drink," Sly chuckled. "Judging by how fast it kicked in, he'll be doing a 'Marathon Dump'."
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Talladega Speedway-1800hrsMurray managed to win several small battles for first place. But still, now he was on the last lap and now he was in second place. He was nearing the final turn and the driver ahead of him was countering his every move.
"Come on!" Murray grunted. "Get out of my way!"
Suddenly, the car ahead of him had a blowout. The pressure from it was great enough to send shards of half-melted rubber towards the crowds, but never made into the stands. The windshield of his van cracked as Murray struggled to avoid the spinning out racer ahead of him. The van ahead reeled around and plowed into the concrete pylons and swung back out into the middle of the track.
"JESUS!" Murray yelled as he literally split bent the wheel from the tension in his fists.
He swung his van around, causing it to fishtail into the other van. The two vehicles made contact, and Murray's was bounced back into alignment with a little more than just a fender bender. Though he could hardly hear it from his adrenaline fueled deafness, the crowd was cheering as he made it across the finish line, and ready for his victory lap.
By the second turn of his victory lap, things went wrong. Out of nowhere, three black Nissan Skylines pulled onto the track, boxing him in. Two to the side of him came down on him hard.
"Sonavabitch!" Murray grunted. "Try this dumbass!"
He stomped on the brake, causing the third Skyline to rear end him, effectively stopping the guy while the other two skylines slammed into each other. Murray quickly turned the wheel so that he was turning toward the garages in the middle of the track. The windshield immediately turned to Swiss cheese as gunmen with Clarions opened fire on him. Murray brought his beloved van around, broad siding a car and effectively turning the car's opened door into a projectile as the van turned it into a Frisbee and slammed into a gunman's knees, breaking both of them.
"So long jackass!" Murray yelled as he floored it.
Murray made just to the outside area of the complex when an unseen skyline t-boned him in the rear, causing his van to swing about. The swing was too much for the onboard weight distribution system and the van flipped and slammed into a parked car.
Stumbling out of his trashed van, he started to flip it back right side up. He just managed it when he felt a painful pinprick and fell to the ground, slowly losing consciousness.
"My baby," Murray whispered absentmindedly, and passed out.
"Pathetic," Emile said, blowing on the barrel of his dart gun. "Take the van too!"
An eighteen-wheeler pulled up and two men came out, attaching a line from the winch in the trailer to the van, while others shackled Murray up and threw him into the trailer too.
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Hotel Grande-1830hrs
"Here's to absolutely nothing," Sly said, holding up a glass of champagne.
"To nothing," Carmelita giggled, clinging her glass with his.
Tonight, they thought was the perfect night, as they sipped their champagne and gazed out at the stars, oblivious to what had been happening a ocean away.