OK Number 17 - Outdriven

There was a shout of "Best of luck!", or something to that effect, and undoubtedly several other words of encouragement that attempted to cross the garage towards Rivalz as he departed the pit lane, however much of these words were lost as the Californian driver floored the throttle out of the slot, accelerating out of the gap with an animal ferocity, depositing seams of rubber about the tar in parallel lines. The engines may not have either the technical credentials or the absolute performance as those Kallen drove for her day job, but for the life of her she could not say that these were anything other than the most spectacularly loud, dramatic, and quintessentially American in how they went about their pursuit of speed.

With speeds around the oval reaching two hundred miles per hour, beyond a Grand Prix car, Kallen did not disapprove of this approach, as she listened to the V8 build up to 12000 revolutions per minute around the track, as the seven hundred kilogram slingshot wound itself up, building momentum into the oval as it prepared for its qualifying run.

"Twenty pounds he beats you with this session!"

Kallen almost didn't hear Gino's proposal, such was the volume around the ovular colosseum, which internally refracted the roar as Rivalz began to swing back around to the pit straight, however she just about caught the offer, before roaring back "What's that in real money you pom?"

She could hear the arithmetic grind away in Gino's head, before he replied "About two thousand two hundred Yen and change!"

Kallen, leaning against the wall, gave the wager a moment's thought, before shouting back over the barrier to the Brit standing behind her "Done!"

As Gino chuckled, Kallen shook her head and could only think 'Now watch him go two seconds faster just to spite me...'

In spite of what may appear to have been a sour aside, more borne of an appreciation for irony than anything else, Kallen was thoroughly enjoying herself in America. Jet lag aside, everything about the buzz about the area suited her more boisterous approach down to the ground, and temperatures being a damn sight lower than Texas didn't hurt either. Since touching down and meeting with Rivalz and an inebriated Gino, her experience had been overwhelmingly positive, with Rivalz proving to be the most earnest human being on planet Earth, and Gino being a constant source of amusement.

Though Kallen doubted she was enjoying himself as much as Gino was, as no matter how much he cried at the royal wedding, Kallen retained a suspicion that he was a secret American, having a suspect appreciation for the finer elements of a half-pounder and speaking a few decibels louder than the person next to him. Not that Kallen minded; he kept pace with her, and was plenty capable of taking much of Kallen's ribbing, and returning it in rapid fire kind.

However, it was hard to hold a discussion, no matter how cutting, as Rivalz zoomed past, on the second of three warm up laps to build a rhythm, before his Qualifying run would begin. He would have three laps, over which his speed would be averaged giving him a Qualifying position.

"Don't bottle it Cardemonde, I've now got money on you."

Kallen, who caught the comment likely intended to remain beneath the breath of its agent, laughed, and replied "Who would win, Rivalz Cardemonde or four left handers? The world waits and watches."

"It could be worse, three right handers certainly stumped you fairly well."

Kallen winced as she caught the jab, moments before Rivalz streaked past, beginning his first lap into the banked corner, twisting at his wheel to arrest the cars sideways movement, settling it into the outermost lane to preserve as much speed as possible.

However, as impressive as his ability to preserve momentum was, Kallen still took objection to Gino's sly reference to the night before, where she had gotten lost driving them from the airport to the hotel, having spent three hours scurrying about Florida trying to track down their accommodation.

Indignant, Kallen replied "At least I could drive us, you were only standing upright by the skin of your teeth! You could hardly walk."

"I could have walked to the hotel faster than you drove us in all my drunkenness." he boasted in reply, as Rivalz, out of sight, chucked his car into the second corner, wrenching the car into the apex and allowing it to slew out wide on exit with almost all the speed preserved. In spite of this, Kallen was now invested in her conversation with Gino, and turned to answer his challenge.

"You fell asleep within sight of the hotel room you dope, a quick walk would have sent you out cold."

Gino laughed, and dismissed this rather devastating point with a humoured "There's no worries, you'd have given me a lift to the hotel anyway."

"Hah!" Kallen barked, immensely amused. "Awfully presumptuous of you. Leaving you behind would have done away with a good chunk of the competition for Sunday, now wouldn't it? I should have left you at the airport!"

"As if either of us could ever hope to stand up to Rivalz." Gino sardonically remarked, at once dismissive and cautioning. He seemed aware that Rivalz, who was one of the last to do a Qualifying run, had a grippier track with so much rubber now deposited on the racing line, meaning he could well steal a good starting position at the death of things. In any case, as the blue haired driver rounded the final bend, Gino continued "Eyes on the prize, he's coming back around."

Kallen turned back around to watch Rivalz sprint down the main straight, hurtling fiercely down the straight like an arrow, falling and falling towards the ground, finding its mark with enough velocity to puncture the air around them, the car literally booming past them on the finish line, sending a victorious echo through the drome.

That said, engine noise was no indicator of speed, and so the crowd pivoted towards the big screens who presented the laps average speed, which would determine his starting spot among the top nine.

"Two hundred and... one point two! That's... fifth! Provisional fifth but… That's higher than you!"

The blonde sitting behind Kallen began to laugh raucously, as the Japanese teen rolled her eyes and noted that it was "Higher than you as well, you dope."

Gino seemed to hint at a nod, before pointing a finger, and in a lawyerly spirit, mentioned that "There isn't two thousand Yen on my grid spot.", smugly escaping Kallen's retort.

She stared at him blankly, before replying blankly with a great suddenness "You think you're funny?"

"No, but everyone else seems to. You're hiding a fierce grin yourself."

Kallen recoiled, however just as she prepared to protest, she realised that she was indeed amused on some level by his Socratic faux-innocence, his falsetto, obfuscating words at once disingenuous and impressive in their audacity. Stunned, Kallen took a moment to reply, blushing as she thought up a response to counter him hastily.

"I... I'm simply pleased for the success of a friend! I'm just happy Rivalz is doing well. You on the other hand are simply profiteering, you filthy capitalist. Do you care at all for what is, and likely will remain the greatest achievement of Rivalz's racing career? For shame Gino. For shame."

It was off the cuff, and Gino was quick to jump on it, scoffing "His greatest achievement? What happens if he wins the race? Fifth is nothing to sneeze at on this grid."

Huffing, Kallen sighed "I've learned to not make bets, if nothing else.", shaking her head as Rivalz eased the car down, slowly winding down his speed. Gino and Kallen sat in the sun, letting off steam as they waited for Rivalz's return, something a now grumpy Kallen was suddenly a lot less eager to meet. Smug, Gino noted "I'm glad to have provided this anti gambling PSA. Truly, who says I'm a bad influence?"

"I am not going to dignify that question with a response."

Gino laughed, as Kallen continued "Moreover, if we're talking about who the faster one of us is, at least I beat my teammate last year."

The Brit winced, visibly shook by that aside, before feigning injury, and replying with crocodile tears "Harsh."

"Live by the sword, die by the sword."

"How much did you say you owed Gino?"

"Do not fucking speak to me."

Kallen's snap was uttered in far more jest than both the words and the tone implied, her voice having dropped an exasperated octave and adopted a more tired note. Meanwhile, Lelouch, ever blithe, laughed at this and planted himself on the sofa next to her, only pausing briefly to holler over the buzz of the gathering for a refill of his drink.

"I still…" Kallen chuckled, as she finished her whiskey, gripping the neck of the bottle by its top and letting the mass hang below her wrist detachedly, "...cannot believe that that dumbass somehow won the goddamn Daytona 500… Starting fifth, and gets the fucking mother of all starts..."

"You're telling me…" Lelouch chuckled, one hand extended into the invisible distance to reach for a glass of champagne, returned by a waiter of saintly patience. "I may have had some competition in my team this year if I hadn't jumped ship."

"I certainly hope that wasn't your intention for leaving me all alone Lelouch." entered the familiar lofty voice of Rivalz Cardemonde, affected with an even taller pitch that seemed to mock any idea of genuine grievance. "I'm just now getting into gear, and you run? Poor show."

"It's called moving up in the world Rivalz, you should try it at some point."

"I suppose, although moving up to the top step of Daytona sated me somewhat."

Kallen turned to finally look back at Rivalz, who was conducting his end of the conversation from some ways behind them, craning her neck to catch a glimpse. He was dressed quite well for what was a pre-race weekend party, with the drivers having decided to relax a bit before trying to cut one another up on track for the first race of the year in Australia. Pre-season testing had come and gone, with the Rebellion car looking seriously competitive, if somewhat unbalanced, with a propensity for massive lateral instability under transitions into mechanical load.

Outside engineering circles, massive lateral instability can be described as a tendency to spin a lot. However, Kallen at the very least had been buoyed by the teams one lap pace no matter the consistency. The Rosenberg had had significant aerodynamic upgrades, and had been solid as a rock. Unfortunately for Rivalz, whom Kallen realised she had been spent an unfortunate amount of time staring at in her distraction, the Ashford car had not made considerable progress, and had been liable to experience sudden unexplained wing stall in testing.

However, this was not Kallen's primary concern with regards to Rivalz at this present moment.

"You've still got that bloody smug smile on your face three bloody weeks later."

Rivalz shrugged, before laughing "It's the one thing I'm likely to get over you, you bet your ass I'm not letting go of this, with you or Gino. No matter how many championships ye get, you'll never live down being beaten at Daytona by Rivalz Cardemonde."

"Ach, don't be like that Rivalz."

This interjection came from across the bar, with Gino Weinberg inserting himself headlong into the discussion having heard the tail end of Rivalz' self-deprecating joke. Marching across the room with legs longer than the Great Wall of China, he maneuvered himself up and over a table and chairs between himself and the conversation of interest before sitting opposite Kallen and Lelouch, which finally forced Rivalz to move forward past Kallen's couch and join what had become a makeshift circle. Satisfied he had sucked all the oxygen out of the discussion, Gino began his anticipated opine.

"You beat me as well, and over five hundred miles of tarmac that isn't an accident. Don't beat yourself up man, you kicked ass. You don't have to make it a punchline."

"Yeah, yeah." Rivalz chuckled, waving dismissively before Gino underlined the point with some gravity injected into his voice, emphasising "I don't want to be hearing any more of that from you."

"Yes dad..."

This understated wit sent the whole group into a fit of laughter, as Gino, in what Kallen could only take to be a credit to him, adopted the moniker with a jovial pride. It was entirely typical of Gino to be a bit overbearing, but Kallen was quite impressed by the man's wholesome streak, which was rare in such a competitive profession. It was particularly noteworthy given that, as Lelouch was now just pointing out, the new regulations had been distinctly unkind to the Camelot chassis, which had forced them to expand their midsection in a way which made the car immensely soft and draggy.

"I may want to get used to finishing behind Rivalz, unless you've turned the car around since winter testing, eh?"

Gino's cheeks inflated, before he breathed out softly to communicate his masked frustration, mostly put on for show, amusing the panel, all of whom were used to chasing down the dominant Camelots and eager to milk in the Schadenfreude.

"It's been an interesting winter." he admitted, before continuing "I think we may want to take a breather year, not sure we're going to get the top prize this year."

"A breather year?" Kallen laughed incredulously. "What, is the team going on a sabbatical? Are ye on a gap year?"

"Is Camelot just taking a one year company retreat?" Lelouch contributed, before looking both ways and whispering "Can I join?"

This was well received, and there was a pause for raucous laughter and the consumption of alcohol. All present in the lounge were drivers, and while all were partial to one form of drink or another, all were required to drive in Free Practice the next morning, and so as Kallen finished her bottle of whiskey on her third gulp, she lamented her inability to ask for a refill. Lelouch, on his second of two glasses, was taking his time, clearly eager to make his supply last, while Gino had finished his allocation hours ago. However, as Kallen, in her moment of pause, surveyed the crowd, both near and afar, she noticed there was one notable absence.

"Where in the world is Kururugi?"

This clearly amused Lelouch, who explained "The guy has a professionalism fetish. He's probably getting a good nights sleep before practice, he always hated late night social events. It's a shame, because he's great craic once he lets his hair down, but he sets a high standard on himself."

As Kallen mulled over this information, Lelouch looked briefly pensive, before asking to the room at large "Who's Suzaku's new teammate again? Odysseus retired, who'd they drag in?"

Rivalz shook his head, before laughing "Typical of you to forget anyone outside your little bubble. It's Marrybel Glinda, the lass who won GP2 after Kallen ran off in the early part of the season."

Nodding, Lelouch continued without a beat "Oi, Glinda, where are you? Glinda? Need to ask you something."

It was not at all subtle, but it was past midnight and Kallen suspected all of their respective capacities for subtlety were fading. It certainly achieved its objectives, with the surly Canadian eventually wandering over to the canal that had formed in the center of the room, albeit with no degree of urgency, before asking "T'was it you wanted?"

Kallen was unsure where Lelouch was taking this, however all was made plain when he asked "What is your comrade Suzaku doing with himself on this fine evening?"

Huffing, the Canuck responded "Burying himself under the car; he wasn't happy with the setup, and was playing around with the anti-roll bars when I left. Haven't heard news since ten, and he was still there."

"Whew…" Lelouch chuckled. "He'll go full kadōshi in a few years, that's intense."

The joke was dark, and not as well received; indeed, its only saving grace was how close a friendship Lelouch and Suzaku were known to have. If they had not had that repertoire, the slight souring of the mood may have been more severe. Feeling some obligation to bail her teammate out, she asked "Has he always been this industrious?"

Lelouch nodded, explaining "He's got something of a complex it has to be said. Always feels he needs to work harder to keep up with the curve, even though he's got plenty of natural pace."

While Kallen could agree to this based on her experience, Lelouch paused unnaturally, as if contemplating adding more, before he seemed to decide against it. Curious, Kallen let it be, but made sure to follow up later. Over the rest of the evening, Gino continued to bring significant levity, which contrasted well with Lelouch's more cutting style of humour and made the evening significantly more enjoyable once the whiskey ran dry. Rivalz at one point asked about Nunnally's surgery, which caused Lelouch to brighten considerably.

"Oh, yeah! She's not quite able to see yet, but we're knocking on the door. A few weeks, and she'll be able to come and see the races!"

"And be disappointed in sight as well as sound."

"Sod off Rivalz."

It was meant in jest, and proceedings continued much in the same vein until the wee hours of Friday morning. However, once the drivers began to turn in, Kallen made sure to pursue Lelouch out the door, as he began the short walk across Melbourne to the hotel, booked out en masse by the team. The night was chilly, with the clear Australian sky retaining little atmospheric heat. The sky was vivid, filled with millions of stars that lit up the scene as they walked out of Albert Park. Eager to make use of their privacy, Kallen asked from behind "Hey, Lelouch, do you have a minute?"

Lelouch kept walking, not bothering to turn his head, but he responded "Is it about Suzaku?"

Kallen blinked, before chuckling. Typical of Lelouch to try and stay one step ahead, almost able to read minds. Shaking her head, she replied "Indeed. You stopped yourself in the middle of the sentence. I get that he's your friend, strange as that seems even now, as different as ye are, but what was it you were going to say?"

Lelouch stopped walking, hands sat in his pockets, before taking in a deep breath. Still faced away from her, she saw the cold vapour of his breath rise up above the top of his head, leaned back and up. He took a moment, before beginning.

"You know, Suzaku and I met long before Formula Renault. His father was the Japanese ambassador to France, lived a fairly affluent life in the south. He went to my school. We couldn't stand each other- he actually beat me up about a week after we'd first met. Thing is, as we soon discovered, we had one fairly significant thing in common."

"Motorsports."

Kallen saw the back of Lelouch's head nod in response. "Thing is, for all that can be said about my family kicking us out, Suzaku hasn't had the nicest time of it either. He's certainly never been bereft of money, but his father had been perpetually disappointed in his sons lack of interest in so called serious subjects."

"Had?"

"Genbu Kururugi passed away when he was fourteen. It did quite a bit to him. He still feels the need to prove himself, to justify his career choice, to make the whole endeavour worth everything he's put himself and his father through. He's gotten better. He helped me out when my siblings and I were homeless, and I've helped him get through tough times in his life. He's got a fierce driving force in his belly, and is more consistent than the tides."

Lelouch finally turned back to Kallen with a dark look.

"The Rosenberg is within touching distance of us, if Winter Testing is anything to go by. If you want to take him on over the course of a season, you're going to need to find out why you drive. Head to head…"

He sighed, before turning back away.

"I can only wish you luck."

~Eth0