Once again, not many ideas, but I hope you enjoy anyway.

Of Francis and Fillmore

1948

Three years. That was how long it had been since the war ended. Nobody who was there would ever forget that moment. There had been a mixture of relief that it was all over; mourning for those lost; trauma over what they'd been through and a series of other emotions that they couldn't even begin to identify. The soldiers were shipped back to the United States, thanked for their service and sent on their way.

For a lot of them, there was a lot of uncertainty as to what they were supposed to do now. One of them in particular was a Jeep whom most knew simply as Sarge. He had been highly respected as a soldier, having both saved and taken many lives and received many medals, including the Grille Badge of True Metal. He got that one for towing a tank to safety during the Battle of the Bulge.

After being sent back to Washington D.C. and he'd been discharged, he wasn't sure of what to do next for two reasons. First of all, he knew, by his make and model, that he was destined to serve his country. All of his hard work had been for what he'd just been through. His father was extremely strict on him, constantly reminding him that he was going to be a soldier one day and he'd better act like it. Now, he just couldn't imagine himself doing anything beyond that. Being a soldier was all he knew.

Second of all, he had never been the same after everything he'd seen and done during that horrific war. Nothing could have prepared him for it, not even his father. He just didn't think he could ever live a normal life. Sometimes, loud noises would remind him of the bombs and gunfire he'd heard. Sometimes, he'd see someone who reminded him of yet another friend he'd lost in battle. He was beginning to think he'd made a mistake living in a big city. Still, he knew he was one of the lucky ones. He was alive. He hated PTSD, but he had to take it as a sacrifice he'd made. After all, to him, there was no bigger or better honour than serving his country.

One day, he parked there in his home, not really doing much of anything. He just stared up at the photos and newspaper articles on the wall, all relating to the war. Now that he'd just cleaned the place (force of habit, really), his daily plans were finished. He had just been informed the day before that he would be evicted soon if he didn't pay the rent. The landlord had been pretty nice about it for so long, but was beginning to get impatient.

"Two more weeks", was what he'd told Sarge. "Two more weeks and you're out."

That would be fine with him; Sarge had been thinking about getting away for a while. He wanted- no, needed- to find somewhere much quieter to live with a much slower pace, but where? The only quiet, small town he knew was his old hometown of Propwash Junction, Minnesota, but he didn't feel like going back there. He hadn't heard from his old man lately and didn't think he could ever face him again. Anyway, even if he didn't care about being evicted, Sarge knew that his money- and his luck- would eventually run out. He knew that he had to get a job, but what could he possibly do?

The answer came to him on this particular day when he reluctantly decided to check his mail. It was mostly bills, but at the very bottom of the pile was a letter, addressed from Arizona. Curious, he glanced at the name on the return address and his eyes widened in recognition. The name was Francis Donovan. That was the name of a soldier he'd rescued during the war. He'd had to carry him for several miles to a medical tent. He hadn't been able to see Francis again before Sarge was sent back to D.C., but he'd heard that not only had Francis managed to make a remarkable recovery, but he'd also fallen in love with the nurse who'd helped him. Now, it was nice to hear from him again.

Dear Sarge, it read,

It's been a while since I've heard from you. I bet you weren't expecting to hear from me either. I got your address from Private Wheeler.

Anyway, I'm writing for two reasons. First of all, I never got the chance to thank you for saving my life. Words will never be enough, so I'll just say thank you. I am truly grateful.

Second of all, I would love the chance to thank you in person. Would you consider coming to visit me in Radiator Springs? It's a small, quaint town in Arizona on Route 66. I think you will like it. My address is on the envelope. Let me buy you dinner or something.

Yours sincerely,

Francis John Donovan

Admittedly, Sarge had been about to throw the letter in the trash and forget all about it. He wasn't in the mood for socialising with anybody or even going outside.

However, he was quick to change his mind when he saw his landlord outside, about to knock on the door and surely demand the rent one more time. Well, he did say he needed to get away. What harm could come from it? In fact, if it really was a quaint small town, then maybe it would actually do him some good.

Without thinking about it for another second, Sarge was out the door and on his way to Radiator Springs, Arizona.

Sarge's first impression of Radiator Springs was a good one. It really was a quaint small town with only a few small businesses lined up along one street. There were only a tyreful of cars driving on the main road.

I like it, Sarge decided.

"Sarge!" Francis called out, waving.

"Francis!" Sarge called back.

"It's good to see ya!" Francis declared.

"Likewise."

"Sarge. Long time no see!"

Sarge's eyes widened as a woman with blonde hair and brown eyes approached. He recognised her instantly.

"Nurse Katherine?!"

"Yes", she confirmed. "Were you not expecting me?"

"Not really", Sarge admitted.

"We're engaged!" Francis announced.

"That's great!" Sarge managed a smile. "Congratulations!"

"What about you, Sarge?" Francis wondered. "You got someone special in your life?"

"I- No. Not yet."

"Oh. Well, let me introduce you to everyone."

This task took only a matter of minutes. There were the town's founder, Stanley and his wife, Lizzie; their best friends, a human couple named William and Alice, who turned out to be Francis's parents, and their other two children, Peter and Ethel; Peter's wife, Susan; Doc George McIntyre and a couple of business owners. Only about fifteen residents in total. Not only that, but Sarge found that he liked every single one of them. They were the nicest people he'd met in a very long time.

"You weren't kidding when you said this was a small town", Sarge remarked.

Francis shrugged and smiled. "I know. It's like one big family. So, you like it here?"

"Like it? I could move in tomorrow", Sarge responded with a small laugh.

However, Francis looked at him completely seriously. "Why don't you?"

"What?" That question completely surprised Sarge.

"I'm serious!" Francis insisted. "You could stay with me and Kath till you get your own place. You could up a store here…"

"What kind of store could I have?" Sarge wondered, talking to himself more than Francis.

The human man shrugged. "Anything you want. Stanley says we need all kinds of businesses here. And Kath is thinkin' of openin' up a school here. Make the town more family friendly."

"I don't know", Sarge replied doubtfully.

"Why not?" Francis questioned.

"It's a big decision. I'd have to think about it." Sarge never did anything at the spur of the moment. He always thought things through in a logical way.

"Take all the time you need. Whenever you're ready, the offer stands." He looked Sarge deep in the eyes. "I hope you do stay." And he sounded like he meant it.

Not that he would have ever admitted it, not even to himself, but Sarge was actually kind of touched that Francis wanted him to stay so badly. "I'll think about it", Sarge informed him finally. "Now, come on. I've been waitin' for that dinner you promised."

Dinner was just as relaxed and friendly as everything else about Radiator Springs. The residents conversed about their days; movies, sports, politics and just about every other topic under the sun. Even when they disagreed, there was no hostility or raised voices. They all seemed so respectful of one another. Plus, even though nobody knew him and were probably much more comfortable with each other, they all made sure that Sarge felt included. He was asked all kinds of polite questions about where he was from and what he had done with himself after leaving the army.

"We've all been looking forward to hearing more about the man who saved our boy's life", William informed him with a small laugh.

Sarge had answered all of their questions with equal politeness, stating that he was originally from a small town in Minnesota, not unlike Radiator Springs, with the exception of cornfields that surrounded the town instead of deserts and that most of the population consisted of aircraft. He also mentioned that he had been living in Washington D.C. since leaving the army and he hadn't done much with himself since then. He described, in general terms, how difficult adjusting to civilian life had been and the townsfolk were genuinely sympathetic.

"I guess I'd better suck it up, though", Sarge had admitted. "My money's running out, so I need to get a job."

"You know, you could always work here if you wanted", Stanley offered. "Maybe start your own business? Radiator Springs is an up-and-coming town. I think in a year or two, business will be boomin' here."

Sarge smiled. "You're the second person today who's offered me that. It's tempting. I'd have to think about it."

"By all means", Stanley assured him.

For the first time in his life, Sarge didn't need long to consider it. Normally, he would take days, maybe even weeks, to consider all of his options and write a list of pros and cons for each. Now, he didn't see any point in it. Already, he knew what he wanted to do. For once, he was letting his emotions guide him rather than logic.

"Why not?" Sarge announced after a matter of minutes. "I guess I've got nothing to lose."

Francis grinned. "That's the spirit! You won't regret this! I promise!"

"So, Sarge, what kind of store are you thinkin'?" Stanley wanted to know.

Once again, it didn't take him long to think about that. "I still got some supplies from my time in the army. I think I might start an army surplus store."

So, he did. He stayed with Francis and Kath for six months while he got his building constructed and then, Sarge's Surplus Hut was open for business. Luckily, Stanley was right. By the early nineteen-fifties, business was booming in Radiator Springs. More and more new residents rolled into town looking for work and Sarge liked all of them just as much as he liked the original residents: a new sheriff and deputy, who were very protective of the town; a cool Chevrolet Lowrider, who frequently changed colours and started a paint shop; two quirky Italian cars with an obsession with tyres, racing and Ferraris and they started- what else?- a tyre shop. Sarge was quick to become friends with all of them.

Of course, his best friend was Francis. He seemed to be the only one who understood Sarge and how he felt about just about anything. One day, in 1954, it was the ten-year anniversary of when Sarge had saved Francis's life. On that day, Francis insisted on buying Sarge dinner again, but they also got together to talk about all of the unspeakable horrors they'd seen in the war, all the lives lost.

"Do you think it'll ever get easier?" Francis wondered. "I've spent the last ten years thinking that it would, but it hasn't."

Sarge sighed, thinking about that for a while. "I don't think it'll ever go away", he announced finally, "but I think, with the help of our family and friends, life will go on."

"You're right", Francis agreed. He was silent for a moment before adding, "You're a great guy, Sarge. I don't think I could talk to anyone else about this kind of stuff."

"Neither could I", Sarge admitted, not wanting this moment to get mushy or sentimental. "Nobody else has been through what we have."

"No", Francis agreed. "You know, you're a great friend, Sarge. A really great friend."

Yep. It was definitely getting mushy and sentimental. "Likewise."

1960

"Oh, no…" Sarge groaned, catching a glimpse of what was coming down his driveway. It was a Volkswagen van, a younger model, it seemed. He was decorated with bright colours and Sarge found that he couldn't look directly at the van. Worse than that, all of the decorations were all things related to peace and love. A hippie. The bane of his existence. He didn't really care for their carefree lifestyle. Or the way they smoked whatever they could get a hold of. Or the amount of trouble they get themselves into, protesting about just about everything.

Knock, knock!

Sarge refused to answer; maybe he'd think that nobody was home.

"Hello?!" a deep voice called out. "Is anyone in there, man? I know you are. I just saw you."

Reluctantly, Sarge opened the door and found himself face-to-face with this hippie van. "What?"

"Hey, man. My name's Fillmore. I'm gonna be your new neighbour, so I-"

"New neighbour?" Sarge repeated. He had to be kidding.

"Yeah, man. I think you know my friend, Ramone? He said this town was a great place to start a business. And it's close to nature. I don't think there's a better place for me to start my organic fuel business."

"If by nature, you mean dead trees and wild coyotes, then yes", Sarge muttered.

Fillmore just laughed. "You're funny, man! I like that! Well, I better get goin'. I got some organic fuels to sort through. I'll see you around."

Sarge groaned once again. This had disaster written all over it.

"Come on, Sarge!" Francis shook his head in amusement at Sarge's vivid description of his horrific new neighbour. He lit a cigarette and smoked it. "It probably won't be as bad as you think it'll be."

"You don't know how bad I think it'll be", the army Jeep deadpanned.

"Come on!" Francis repeated with another laugh. "It's all about positive attitude."

"I am positive!" Sarge grumbled. "Positive that nothing good can come from this!"

"Hey, Sarge!" the new neighbour called out, waving. "Ramone said you were gonna show me around!"

"He did?" Remind me to kill Ramone later.

"I really appreciate that, man", Fillmore went on. "Let's go."

Sarge groaned. "Fine. Let's get this over with."

Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. Of course, Sarge still wasn't happy to have a hippie around town. In the few reluctant conversations they'd had, the Jeep had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. Nine times out of ten, he failed. His opinions on everything were just so stupid in Sarge's opinion and he wouldn't hesitate to let Fillmore know it.

Even so, for whatever reason, Fillmore seemed to like Sarge. Although, why was a mystery to him.

"You're a good friend, man", Fillmore kept insisted. "A real good friend."

Sarge would hate having to admit it to anybody, even himself, but he found that he was starting to get used to the hippie. Francis had been right; it wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Not that he ever expected Fillmore to be a close friend of his (Francis would always be his best friend), but he could tolerate him. However, one day, everything changed...

1968

Life in Radiator Springs had taken a turn for the worse. An Interstate had been constructed close to the town, so now, traffic bypassed the town instead of going through it. Business, which had once been going so well, had come to a complete standstill. Like everyone else in town, Sarge was concerned, but even with most of the residents rushing to move out, some remained confident that things would go back to normal soon.

"In the meantime", Flo had declared, "we'll just have to learn to live with less and focus on what's important: family."

So, those who chose to remain did just that. The close-knit family in Radiator Springs seemed to become much closer. However, Sarge really started to feel the impact of things on another empty, quiet day at Flo's…

Francis, Sarge's closest friend, had just arrived at Flo's and ordered a coffee, but it was clear that he had other things on his mind.

"Guys?" he began uncomfortably. "I have some big news."

Everyone looked his way.

"I have... been offered a job at a hospital in Chicago", he announced. "I'm going to take it."

"What?!" all of his kids exclaimed immediately. "No! Dad, we wanna stay!"

"That is out of the question", Francis insisted. "I'm not getting any work here and I'm trying to raise six kids! I need to take this job!"

"I suppose your family is what you need to think about right now", Lizzie admitted with a sigh. "We'll be sorry to see you go, but we wish you luck."

Sarge couldn't believe it. He just couldn't believe it. His best friend, the one who had encouraged him to stay in Radiator Springs was leaving?! How could he do that?

"How could you do that?!" Sarge snapped at him after the town's other doctor, George McIntyre, had arrived to announced that he, too, was leaving.

"How could I do what?" Francis wondered innocently.

"Don't give me that!" Sarge shot back angrily. "How could you leave? Just 'cause things are a little tough! You served in the army, for Chrysler's sake! I never thought you could be so selfish!"

Francis was shocked. That was the only way to describe the look on his face. "Selfish?!" he repeated in sheer disbelief. "I got six kids, no money and a chance to make some money! I'm a little confused! Could you please explain what part of that is selfish?"

"Don't get sarcastic with me!" Sarge grumbled.

"Well, if you want the truth, the only thing I'm upset about leavin' is you!" Francis shouted. "But if you're gonna act like this, then maybe I should just go!" With those final words, he stood up and marched off.

Gradually, everyone dispersed; they wanted to be prepared just in case, by some miracle, customers- or, at the very least, a customer- would show up. Finally, only Sarge and Fillmore remained.

"That was not cool, man", Fillmore began.

"What?" Sarge demanded, still sounding pretty angry.

"You know", Fillmore insisted. "The way you just talked to Francis. If you were really his friend, you'd be more understanding, man. You know he's not leavin' to be selfish. He's just gotta think of his family. Maybe you're just disappointed to see him go. He is your best friend, after all. So, you should want him to be happy."

Sarge hated to admit it, but Fillmore was right. Heaving a loud sigh, he left the café to talk to Francis.

Needless to say, Francis wasn't all that happy to see Sarge there. "What? Did you come to give me another lecture about how selfish I am?"

He was about to close the door when Sarge put his tyre in the way.

"No! Wait! I've been doing some thinking and… I'm sorry. I was just disappointed, that's all. You're my friend. And you know I want you to be happy, right?"

Francis smiled. "Fillmore talked to you, didn't he?"

Sarge narrowed his eyes. "What makes you say that?"

Francis didn't answer. "Two of you should spend more time together. I think he could be a good influence on you."

"Never!"

Francis just laughed. "Well, just give it some thought for me. You're still gonna need some friends when I'm gone."

"All right", Sarge agreed reluctantly.

"And you ain't gettin' rid of me entirely", Francis went on. "Don't forget to write or call. I know it won't be the same, but you know…"

Sarge, who normally didn't like getting mushy, couldn't help smiling as he held out his tyres. "C'mere, you son of a gun!"

He was too embarrassed to ever tell anyone what had just happened between them, but Fillmore sensed something had happened by Sarge's smile. "All good, man?" he asked.

The Jeep, unable to speak, had just nodded. "Thanks, hippie." And he meant it.

2001

Sarge hung up the phone and stared off into space. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. He would've thought he'd be used to hearing this now. In a way, he was. Still, this one was the exception. Nothing could have prepared him for this. Shaking his hood, he headed over to Flo's. He wasn't sure he was ready to tell everyone when he wasn't ready to believe it himself, but he knew they'd probably find out sooner or later. He figured it would be better for everyone- even him- if it was sooner.

"Everyone?"

Immediately, all of the townsfolk looked up from whatever they were doing. There was just something about Sarge's voice that got their attention.

"I- I got some bad news", he began quietly. "Kath Donovan just called me. Francis passed away early this morning."

At that moment, there would've been a stunned silence and there was, apart from a long, loud, shrill scream from Fudge, followed by her banging her hands on the high chair. She was probably wondering why Luigi had suddenly stopped feeding her. He'd left the spoon hovering in the air in shock. So, he shushed her and spooned some more food into his almost-eleven-month-old daughter's mouth.

"How? What happened?" Sheriff wondered.

"You know how he's been unwell these last few years", Sarge explained. They all knew. He and Kath had sent letters, so they all knew that Francis had had a heart attack almost twenty years ago. Four years earlier, he had been diagnosed with a rare form of blood cancer. He'd survived both, but each one had left him much weaker. "Pneumonia killed him."

Once again, everyone became silent.

"I can't believe it." Flo shook her hood in disbelief. "He was a great man."

"I know", Sheriff agreed. "It's so sad. He will be missed."

There was yet another silence as they all thought about just what a great man he was and how much he would be missed. Once again, it was Fudge who broke the silence.

"You okay, man?" Fillmore wondered once Luigi had carried Fudge off to change her diaper.

Sarge sighed. "I think so. I guess it was kind of a shock and I feel like I've lost a friend. Even though I haven't seen him in over twenty years." He'd come to visit Francis in Chicago after his heart attack when Francis was fifty-four; the man had been seventy-seven when he died.

"I know, man", Fillmore had assured him. "If you ever need anything, I'm here."

Sarge tried not to let it show how choked up that comment had made him. "Thanks, hippie." Once again, he meant that. Fillmore had proven himself to be a very great friend to have. He was always willing to talk whenever Sarge needed. Not that Sarge had ever told him he needed to talk. The hippie van just seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to that. Sarge truly was grateful to have Fillmore was his friend. He'd just never gotten the nerve to tell him that.

I'll tell him, Sarge kept promising himself. Some day.

Not even a week later, Sarge found himself in a church in Chicago. He was surrounded by members of the Donovan family: Francis's children; sons-and-daughters-in-law; grandchildren and even one great-grandchild. And Fillmore.

That was right, Fillmore had offered to come with him. He hadn't known Francis anywhere near as well as Sarge, or most of the other residents of Radiator Springs, had, but he was there to support his best friend.

After several of Francis's kids and one of his grandkids, Francis John Donovan III, had made speeches about what a great father and grandfather he was, Sarge faced the large group of people gathered in that church.

"I first met Francis during the war", he began. "I carried him several miles to safety after he was injured. I didn't see him again for three years, but when we reunited, he became my closest friend. When he left Radiator Springs, we kept in touch, but we weren't as close as we used to be. I- I've missed that and I am honoured to have served with Francis."

After the service, everyone took turns going up to the casket to pay their respects. When it got to Sarge's turn, he was glad Fillmore had moved aside to let him have a moment alone. After Francis left, Sarge had been thinking that he would never find a good friend like that again. True, Fillmore wasn't exactly like him, but he didn't have to be. He was just as good a friend. Sarge never thought he would've admitted it, even to himself, but he was grateful to Fillmore for being his friend.

Life goes on, Sarge reminded himself. He was sad to be letting go of Francis for good, of course, but he couldn't wait to see what the future had in store for him and Fillmore.

"Goodbye, my friend", he whispered as he turned away from Francis for the last time.

If you've seen Planes: Fire and Rescue, you've probably noticed the photo of Sarge on the wall in the Propwash Junction firehouse. Now, I have an explanation for that.

As you may know from other stories' author's notes, I've finally finished this story. It took me ages to come up with something for Fillmore and now, he's up next.