AN: This has never happened before. It is such an amazing feeling to be able to delete a memo of writing you did nearly six months ago because you actually made it to the chapter it's meant to appear in...

There were no misconceptions that season as far as who would be taking the 1952 Piston Cup home. Even Alex couldn't put up a front to the fact that #51 had only lost six times so far in the entire season, and if he hadn't won, he'd still been in the top five every time.

So had Alex, but a single win opposed to twenty-seven was not going to cut it.

Normally the cup was presented just after the last race, but seeing as this year was a little different, with the added event of some fund raising banquet, there were a few changes coming around. Which meant he'd have to sit there with a polite expression on his face while the biggest award in the sport was handed to the one person he couldn't stand.

He'd been asked a few times why he didn't like Jesse Hudson and every time the answer changed. The kid was a nobody, a know it all who came from nothing. He didn't deserve to be on the track. A ruffian who'd struck it lucky after approaching some motor company.

Maybe he should scratch from tomorrow's race.

No, that would look petty.

It was one of the few times the entire Piston family was under one roof. He paused briefly in the hallway and backtracked a few steps to look through the open doorway of his sister's room.

"What are you doing?"

Emily looked away from the full length mirror and eyed him briefly over her shoulder. "Deciding what to wear for the banquet."

"It's a week away."

"Less than a week actually. You might be able to just wear a suit and tie but that's not exactly going to cut it for me."

"Is this what you do all the time? Play with shoes and dresses."

She kicked off the heels she'd been debating over and stalked toward the door to stand in front of him, leaning against the door frame with her arms crossed. "If you're allowed to primp and preen all week for a race, just so you can sit in a car and lose, I think I can take a little time in considering what I'm wearing to a formal event."

She did feel a little bad at how his ears turned red with embarrassment as he glared down at her, having at least a six inch height advantage, but she still stuck her head around the doorway when he turned away and stalked off down the hall. "Good luck tomorrow, Alexander."

It was probably a good thing he hadn't scratched, at least he could claim two wins for 1952. Didn't change the outcome concerning the Cup, though.

It was a new and foreign feeling to be put up in such extravagant accommodations. They hadn't had to put a dime forward, as anyone who had sent an RSVP by a certain date were handed their reservations and receipts, paid for by Mr. Edward Piston.

It might have only been for a weekend, but free was free.

Ruth came up behind her twin and wrapped her arms around his neck from behind. She looked over their reflections in the mirror from over his shoulder and patted his cheek a little rougher than necessary. "Look at my little brother! He looks like a movie star!"

Jesse pushed her arms away but smirked at her comment. "Should I go to those open auditions they were talking about on the radio."

"No."

"No." He continued to grin, meeting her eyes through their reflection. "Why not?"

"I'd never see you again. They'd love you." She leaned against him and batted her eyelashes mockingly. "With those blue eyes you really would be a Hollywood star."

"And die penniless when they turned brown."

"Jesse!"

"Just a joke."

"Well I didn't find it to be very funny." She patted his shoulder affectionately and kissed his cheek before turning to leave the small bathroom. "What time are we leaving?"

He checked his watch. "Twenty minutes?"

She hesitated and backtracked to stand behind him, looking past his shoulder to look intently over her reflection.

Jesse hooked her elbow with his own and dragged her attention away from any attempt of self criticism. "Relax. You look beautiful and I'm sure you'll be the envy of all the girls there."

"You have to say that..."

"You're right, I do." He raised a brow as they left the room to meet the others in the hotel lobby. He tossed the key to the room up in the air and caught it with one hand before putting his arm around her shoulders as they headed down the hall. "Henry paid me twenty bucks."

They were kids from the sticks, backwoods moonshiners and dirt track roughnecks who'd been polished up and thrown in to some provided Rolls-Royce convertible, afraid to touch anything for fear of breaking it and walking away from the event with an enormous price tag lingering over their heads. It was obvious to see who was comfortable in the setting of the large reception hall and who was not.

"I bet those are real crystal glasses." River muttered when they found their table.

"You so much as touch one, and so help me-" Lou hissed in reply.

"What? They won't notice a few missing by the end of the night."

The Hudson siblings took one side of the table, Ruth and Joan sitting between the brothers while the rest of the crew took up the other side. Junior leaned on his elbows and clasped his hands in front of his face, looking toward the front of the room. "You know they're gunna make you go up there, Hud."

"I am not going up there." Jesse muttered, side-eying him critically before pulling the intricately folded napkin from the wineglass in front of him. "If I have to, Henry has to."

"No." Smokey cut in quickly. "My name's not on it."

They had no idea what to expect, the most formal events they'd ever been to being weddings or funerals, and it wasn't like they attended those on a regular basis. No one at the table was paying much attention when the schedule for the evening was announced, they were more interested in the cost of the table linens and wondering if the gold linework on the plates was real or just metallic paint.

"The sport's not popular enough for real gold yet." Smokey whispered as he turned back to the table.

"Why are there five forks." River started again.

"They expect you to walk off with four, obviously."

"I am never going out in public with any of you again." Lou pinched the bridge of her nose before looking pleadingly toward the other girls.

"Yeah but it was a nice ride, though. Wasn't it?" Junior smirked.

Much to everyone's enjoyment, Jesse had been forced to weave his way through the maze of tables to accept the season's Piston Cup. He was certain he didn't know half of the people in attendance and they didn't know him. It was a networking opportunity for Mr. Piston, to show colleagues who had as much money as he did that yes, this is a thriving sport, invest in this and you won't be sorry.

The kid who'd spent his last five dollars on the gamble of his life now stood at the front of a room filled with more money than he'd seen in his lifetime. The Fabulous Hudson Hornet was a title recognized to those who didn't know Thomasville from Fireball Beach, and while they didn't know the first thing when it came to racing, they recognized the face of the twenty-one year old kid who graciously accepted the piston shaped award from the admins at the podium. While he'd grown accustomed to attention on the track, a room of over two hundred breaking in to applause was a surprise and he mouthed a quick thank you before hustling back down the few steps, but not without a grin and look toward his table where he'd met both his sibling's gazes quickly.

With the ceremony and the pomp and circumstance out of the way, the rest of the evening was theirs to enjoy. Jesse had been a little surprised when Joe Moore came around to the table to offer congratulations before offering to take the Piston Cup off his hands. It made sense, there wasn't room on the table and keeping it on the floor next to his chair made it difficult to do much.

Ruth slapped his shoulder with the program in her hand, having finally gotten a chance to look it over. "You didn't tell me Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin would be here."

He stuttered briefly and looked at her wide eyed. "I...didn't know that was a big deal to you-"

She sighed and shook her head sarcastically. "You're such a boy."

Mingling wasn't difficult, but when most of those their own age seemed to be involved with their own cliques it did get a little tricky at events like this. Emily wasn't about to have her ear talked off by someone twice her age who thought they knew more about racing than she did. Granted, she didn't know everything, but she was sure she knew more than the majority of those in the room, save the teams in attendance of course. They would obviously be the experts. Especially team #51.

She stood with her future sister-in-law, and while she wasn't old enough to drink herself, she kept Beatrice company near the drink counter. They both turned at the same time at a shrill but pleasant sound coming from near the back of the room. Unsurprisingly, the group previously in question had discovered the phenomenon of getting a wine glass to sing. With four different glasses lined up, the water level of each just slightly different from the next, a few of the boys from that table were having themselves a grand time in experimenting with their new found talent. Emily pressed her mouth in to a thin line, if only to keep from grinning or outright laughing at the helpless look on some of the girl's faces at the table.

"At least someone's enjoying themselves."

Emily looked toward her questioningly. "You're not?"

The older girl only shrugged one shoulder. "I guess I was expecting to see more of your brother this evening."

She made an effort not to roll her eyes. She wasn't getting involved with that. As the younger sister and sister-in-law to the couple, she wasn't going to have her evening ruined over something trivial. With a low sigh, she picked up her glass and attempted a grin before excusing herself. She'd rather spend the evening stuck to her father's side than listen to Bea complain. She did see her brother briefly as they crossed paths to different ends of the room, but she didn't turn to see if he was joining Beatrice or not.

"I don't believe we've ever met."

Ruth looked away from the table of extravagant desserts and stilted conversation with some Piston Cup administrator, she couldn't remember their name, to see Alexander Piston to her left.

Oh.

This should be good.

"No, I don't believe we have, though I recognize you." She smiled politely.

"Oh? Well there's only so many names recognizable in Piston Cup."

"I do try to keep up." Ruth replied vaguely.

"Alex."

"Well I knew you weren't Jesse."

She bit back a smile at how hard he had to fight back a look of offense before shaking his head. "No, certainly not Jesse Hudson." After a moment, and realizing she wasn't going to elaborate, he redirected. "And your name?"

"Ruth."

"Beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

She'd be flattered if she didn't know who she was talking to.

"Who are you here with?"

"Oh, my brother is floating around here somewhere. He's rather popular."

She could tell he figured she meant someone in administrations, because why else would she be stuck attending one of these things. She was just a silly little girl who wanted to meet some celebrities, right?

Right.

She glanced back at him with a polite grin before turning her attention back to the options of confections in front of them and realized the person she'd been speaking to had moved on. She could hold her own, but would have preferred to not even need to on an evening that she was supposed to be celebrating her brother's success.

"You have incredible eyes."

"Thanks, I get that a lot." Jesse drawled as he cut in to the conversation, a protective arm crossing between the two as he set Ruth's glass of wine down.

She looked up from the table and watched with a grin as realization dawned on Piston's face. He looked quickly between the two of them and stuttered.

"Hold on, you're-?"

"I told you I was here with my brother."

"Why don't you go compliment your fiancée's eyes." Jesse muttered as the two of them turned away. Ruth had grabbed her drink quickly and looked back at Alex with raised brows, mockingly scandalized.

She allowed Jesse to lead her away from the table. "I can handle myself you know. I don't need little brother to come to my rescue."

"I wasn't rescuing you, I was telling him off."

"What's the difference?"

"There's a big difference."

She rolled her eyes before realizing they were nearly back to their own table. "I didn't even get to choose a dessert."

"I can get it."

She pinched him through the jacket material and he pulled his arm away from her quickly with a sour expression. "I can get it myself, Jesse Aaron."

"Fine." He slid in to his seat at the table and watched her as she set her wine glass down. "Bring me back something, to pay for the bruise that's gunna leave."

"You're such a baby."

He only watched her expectantly and grinned when he knew he'd won.

When she did return, she paused a few tables away to just watch the group for a moment, ignoring any looks of confusion she may have received for standing immobile with a dessert plate in each hand. River and Junior were animatedly describing something that was worth sharing, she couldn't hear exactly from where she was. Lou had obviously been unfortunate enough to sit through the same story one too many times because she appeared to be patiently waiting for it all to be over. Jesse was leaned back in his chair with his hands clasped behind his head, listening with a look of amusement. Henry had only returned to the table shortly before Ruth had, setting a small plate in front of Joan who looked up at him with a quiet thanks.

She grinned faintly, closing the gap between herself and the group and nodded in acknowledgment when Jesse thanked her.

Unable to read her expression at first, he shifted in his chair and let his hands fall to his sides with a faint look of concern she knew all too well. He murmured. "Alright?"

"Yeah." Ruth grinned as she took the seat beside him. She commented quietly before they both turned their attention back on the unfolding story. "I'm perfect."

AN2: Jesse's comments on his eyes come from the Paul Newman quote.

Also...this fic is just about halfway finished now.