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There is a place you can touch a woman that will drive her crazy. Her heart...

—Melchor Lim—

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"Concentrate…" Cruz heard Storm mutter to himself.

If she was still a trainer, Cruz would have liked coaching Storm. He was a hard worker. If he wasn't in the Copperfields then he was at Willy's Butte trying to ace that sharp turn, but he always spins out of control. Like just now, Storm dangled on the ridge, just barely keeping himself from going head first into the cactus pit.

Cruz drove up behind Storm. "Still trying?"

"Doing," he corrected her arrogantly.

Cruz mentally rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say..." she parked herself to the side to watch.

"Do you know where Mater is?" Storm asked suddenly, trying to sound casual about it and failed.

Cruz couldn't help but tease him. "Miss him?"

"Tch," Storm scoffed. "He still owes me a race and I haven't seen him around for a couple of days."

Cruz shrugged, not alarmed at all since Mater's absences were usually work-related. "Dunno, but I imagined he had a hauling job that took him out of Carburetor County."

"Oof!" Storm reversed from the ledge only to back into a carter. "…this is hardly a setback," he muttered sheepishly, not meeting her eyes.

The yellow coupe nodded. "Of course," she agreed with him. Although her reply was sincere, Storm must have thought she was mocking him by the narrowing of his shades.

"Argh! I thought I had the technique down pact this time!" he vented. "Level with me, Ramirez! What exactly do I have to do?"

Cruz blinked. "What do you mean?"

"What's the trick, the formula! Tell me already so I can calculate how to beat it!"

Cruz shook her head. "It's not something you can put into a formula, Storm. It's all about learning to move by instinct and skill alone."

He blinked slowly, apparently not understanding what she said.

Cruz drove up beside him. "Here, I'll show you," Cruz grounded her tire into the dirt. "Like this, you must embrace the track."

He sent her an incredulous look. "…excuse me?"

"Let the road steer your tires as you ride along the track. Hug it like... um," She paused to think of an example. "Oh! like how you would embrace a friend."

Strom sent her annoyed look.

"Not me!" Cruz decided to try again. "More like how you would embrace a girlfriend or your lover... ...um, lovers as in plural-"

"Just what kind of guy do you think I am?" Storm demanded, taking offense. "I'm not dating any cars!"

"You're... not attached?" Cruz blinked. Jackson, despite his dark persona, was a very attractive car. It seemed a bit strange to think he was somehow still single.

"No, I am not. I got more important things to do like winning championships than wooing fangirls. Now please get out of my personal life!"

"Right! Sorry! But as I was saying: Embrace! The trick is to curve and flow with the path. And that's your problem!"

Strom scoffed. "I don't have a problem-"

"You do, Storm!" Cruz retorted. "You want to dominate everything! You don't like giving up control at all!" His features slacked, her words sinking in. Hopefully not in a bad way. But just in case, distraction! Cruz started to bounce on her tires. "It's a game of give and take!" she sung to a beat.

Jackson's jaw dropped. "…You got to be kidding me…"

"Nope! You cannot take controoool... you just gotta give!" she continued to sing to the tune of the Supremes. "You gotta trust this track no matter how steep it gets-"

"Stop singing!"

"Alright!" Cruz laughed. "But you get my point though, right? If you ever forget, remember the song!"

"Tch," he mumbled grumpily. "As if I can get your voice out of my head..."

"Time to meet it, greet it and defeat it!" Cruz encouraged him. "Now stay put and watch me!"

Cruz drove back to a good distance and then accelerated, speeding towards the cliff. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Storm gaping with reluctant awe as she effortlessly glided around the sharp turn. On the return, Cruz slowed down and swiveled back around.

"Just how did you learn to skid like that?" he marveled.

"I picked it up by watching Mr. McQueen. When we got caught up in a Demolition derby he told me to "Turn right to go left"," Cruz chuckled at the memory. "When I asked what he meant, all he explained was that I had to "Break it hard and let it loose"."

"That makes absolutely no sense whatsoever," Storm stated decisively.

"Tee-hee! It didn't make much sense to me either at the time, but I kept watching him. I learned so much in a short matter of time…" Cruz's face fell suddenly. "…which is not fair…"

"How is it not fair?"

She sagged down sadly on her tires. "I was the one who was supposed to be training him… not the other way around. Mr. McQueen should have won the Florida 500, not me."

"And you feel guilty about that?" Storm realized with disbelief.

"A little," Cruz admitted. "It was his last shot and he gave it away to me…"

"Well, you shouldn't feel an ounce of remorse," Storm stated. "McQueen was yesterday's rubber and he knew it. But you had the potential to do something. That's why he gave his number to you."

"…" Cruz didn't say a word about it. She rode over to the edge of the plateau to look out over the horizon. Nothing to be seen but the vast blue sky with a few straggling clouds. In the valley below were some tumbleweeds rolling about in the wind. "You know who invented the skidding technique?" she asked out of the blue.

Storm huffed, no doubt annoyed by her changing the subject. "No, who did?"

"Rivers Scott. His opponents were always faster and larger than him. Scott used it to his advantage. He skidded around his opponents like a raging river on tight turns to take the lead, hence his nickname."

"What was his name before the technique?"

"Oh," Cruz perked up at his question. "Are you curious now?"

"A little," Storm admitted.

"Well, his real name is Wendell Oliver Scott. I hope you can meet him one day."

"In the afterlife…?" he wondered.

"No, in Thomasville, silly!" Cruz laughed.

"Wait… he's still alive?" Storm blurted.

"Yeah, I was surprised too!" she confessed. "Every single one of the Piston legends!" Her smile fell. "…except for Mr. Hudson. C'mon, let's go again."

They did some more practice laps. Slowly Strom was making some progress. On the final lap, he began to skid across the inside instead of hitting the brakes.

"Break it loose! Break it loose!" Cruz chanted. "Alright! Good job! You'll be mastering this in no time!"

"Was there any doubt?" Storm scoffed. "I am the best of the new generation after all."

Cruz rolled her eyes. "And you're so modest about it too."

"Just stating a truth," Storm replied, completely unabashed. "But thanks for showing me how it's done, teach."

"…Wait," Cruz hit her brakes. "…what did you just say?"

Strom glared. "Don't push it, Ramirez," he growled.

Cruz laughed. "It's just quite a shocker! I hope my ears don't deceive me...?"

Storm appeared to be unamused, but he indulged her anyway. "Thanks for showing me how to skid," he repeated. "Hope you heard that one, I won't be saying it a second time."

"You're welcome, Jackson-"

"Hamilton here!" chirped Cruz's personal assistant.

"Huh?" Cruz muttered distractedly. "What is it?"

"You have a visual call from Racelott, Chase. Miss. Ramirez."

"Oh, it's Chase? Then proceed, Hamilton."

A little screen extended from her grill and up popped a small screen showing a neon green painted racer. "Yo, yo, yo! What's up, Bumblebee?" he greeted.

"Hi, Chase!" Cruz grinned widely at her friend. "I'm doing great. How are things going on your end?"

"Just chilling at my homestead of New Jersey. How-" he broke off in mid-sentence when he noticed the car parked right behind her. "Is… is that Jackson Storm? He's actually with you?!"

Cruz glanced back at Storm. "Yeah… why?"

"Whoa, whooooa, WHOA!" Chase hooted. "There were rumors going about him leaving town with you but I didn't believe it till now!"

"Rumors?" Cruz blinked. This didn't sound good. Especially if cars were passing around the wrong type of gossip.

Storm gnashed his teeth. "Yes, Racelott," he demanded menacingly. "What kind of rumors?"

"Eh, n-never mind that for now!" Chase quickly dismissed. "Listen, the reason why I called is that I was elected by the bros tell you about Cam Spinner."

"Oh, how is Cam?" Cruz wondered. "Is he out the hospital yet, or do we have to send another flower bonnet?"

Chase suddenly looked depressed. "Naw, Spinner is getting out in three days… besides… I doubt he'll want visitors…"

"What do you mean by that?"

"Spinner's done, Cruz. He got canned today."

Cruz gasped with horror, but Storm didn't even blink. "I'm amazed he lasted long as he did," he commented dryly.

"But why?!" Cruz begged to understand. "Cam's stats were amazing! He-"

"Who cares about stats when he keeps costing the sponsors money without wins?" Chase retorted, shocking Cruz into silence.

"Cam wrecked at the Florida 500, the very first race of the season and then wrecked again in the last race as soon as he got back!" He shook his head sadly. "Cam's sponsor assessed his racing history with the cost of his repair bills and downtime. They decided it would be more cost effective to cut Spinner lose."

"..."

"... are you still with me, Bumblebee?"

"This... this is just so terrible! How is Cam taking it?"

Chase's eyes fell. "Not well at all…"

"Can he get another sponsor?"

"Doubtful. My homeboy couldn't even land himself in the top twenty last year… even that veteran racer McQueen finished in the top ten before he retired… why would anyone want to back Cam when they can pick out another potential champ from the pool?"

"But it's still not fair!" Cruz insisted. "Racing in the Professional League was Cam's dream! What will he do now?"

"Cam just needs little time off and some soul searching, but he'll be fine. Perk up, Bumblebee, please?" Chase pleaded. "I hate seeing you distraught!"

Cruz forced a smile upon her lips. "I'll try. Thanks for telling me, Chase."

"No prob. I still got several calls to make, chow!" he hung up.

Cruz sighed sadly. "Well… that was heavy…"

"I'd say," Without sympathy, Storm recited the old saying, "Once you crash, you can't go back."

Cruz glared at him. "That's a cruel thing to say."

"It's the truth-"

"It's not!" Cruz exclaimed passionately.

"Then name one," he dared her. "What racer has led a successful career after a major crash?"

She couldn't think of one off the top of her head. "A racer is not done after a crash happens, there's a lot left in them! It's the world, cars like you, who don't give them a chance! Now, if you excuse me, there is a carwash and a nice pint of Mobil with my name on it."

Cruz turned to drive away, but Jackson called out, "H-Hey, wait! Maybe you can convince me otherwise!"

Okay, this time her ears really were deceiving her. "…excuse me?" Cruz asked, looking back at him. She twitched at what she saw. Jackson was smiling. Actually smiling. It was not the smug, self-assured smirk of triumph he used for the press, it was gentler. The corners of his mouth curled up, showing his pearly white teeth.

"Let's talk about that over dinner at that new place, El Monto's," he offered charmingly. "Just the two of us. It'll be my treat."

Did... did he seriously just asked her out?

Cruz gulped, her water pump began to overheat. "J-Just the two of us…?" she couldn't believe it.

Storm chuckled as he rode closer, obviously liking the effect he was having on her. "Yes, I want to spend some alone time with you, Cruz."

"…as…?" she asked quietly.

"I would like to explore that," he replied smoothly as a new freshly polished hubcap.

"Ah… ha… I…" Cruz flustered. "…a-are you for real!?" she shrieked out, much to her embarrassment.

"I've grown to like you, Cruz," he confessed. "You know, as in the like-like you."

Was she dreaming? This certainly felt like a dream! 'Wake up, Cruz! Wake up!' she chanted to herself, but nothing vanished. "On my Manufacturer, this is real!" she muttered aloud. Storm sent her a weird look. "I-I'm flattered, Jackson, but I doubt this even appropriate!"

Storm looked unconvinced. "But aren't we both consenting adults?" he questioned. Cruz reared back a couple of feet. At her action, Storm veered his eyes away looking disappointed. "Then we go as friends," he regened. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable-"

"A little late for that!" Cruz squeaked.

"Then you won't be going-"

"I-I didn't say that!" Cruz exclaimed before her brain could catch up. "It caught me unprepared is all! Just, um, just let me clear it with my crew chief, okay?"

Storm's entire face darkened. "Do you really have to get your crew chief's approval just to go out with a friend for a pint of oil?" he asked, incredulous.

"It's for the best, I don't want him getting the wrong idea if we are alone together!" Cruz exclaimed and then waited.

Cruz expected Storm to start getting pushy and manipulative at this point. She was ready for that. That is what the old Storm would do after all, but the response she got was pleasantly unexpected: a graceful nod.

"Alright, I'll be waiting at Flo's if you're still coming."

"Oh…" Cruz blinked with amazement, secretly impressed by his behavior. "…um, okay!" she brightened, unable to keep a grin spreading across her cheeks.

Since he didn't have an internal phone, the fastest way to find Lightning was to ask Mrs. Sally. While home in Radiator Springs, Lightning never strayed too far away from his "Blue Jay".

Cruz drove up into The Cozy Cone's front office. Sally was sitting at the front desk managing endless paperwork. Cruz winched just watching her. She hated jobs that required parking the brakes and pushing paper.

"Hi Mrs. Sally!" she greeted her cheerily. "Is Mr. McQueen around?"

"Oh, evening, Cruz! He's in the musk shield."

Cruz raised a shadebrow. She never knew why Sally called the late Doc Hudson's garage that. It never smelt musky to her. "Okay, thanks!" as she rolled around to leave, Sally called out, "Wait, wait a second!"

Cruz put her gears into reverse. "What is it, Mrs. Sally?"

"You are practically glowing!" Sally told her.

Cruz raised a skeptic shadebrow. "I… I look pregnant?" she wondered. The only cars who received compliments like that were expectant mobiles or cars that had just gotten a fresh wax and shine.

"Oh no, no!" the Porsche laughed. "And you better not be!" she added jokingly.

"I'm not!" Cruz swore. "I've never been with another car like that!"

"Anyway, what I meant is that you look happy! Just what happened, today?"

"Oh, it's... it's Jackson," Cruz admitted shyly. "He wants to take me out to El Monto's... no, Mrs. Sally don't give me that look! We're going as FRIENDS only!"

"Yeah, okay," Sally replied with a wink. "Then I wish you well on your friendship date, Cruz, but good luck trying to persuade Stickers to let you go if that's what you want to speak with him about."

Cruz froze. She wanted his approval at first, but now she realized it will be an unavoidable fight. Maybe she should renege and sneak away with Jackson. No! What was she thinking? She couldn't do something like that.

Sally came out from behind the counter. "Hey, it'll be okay," she soothed her. "If you can get through Lightning, then I will keep him preoccupied this evening without fail, alright?"

"How will you do that?"

"Heh, he," Sally chuckled merrily. "Let's just say I got a surprise for him!"

"What is it?" Cruz wondered.

"Lightning deserves to know first, but you will know in a little while," she promised. "Now get going! Everything will be fine!"

But it wasn't fine...

"Mr. McQueen, I'll be alright!" Cruz insisted for the tenth time. "It's just one pint!"

"But it's with Storm!" he rebutted.

"I'm aware of that," Cruz rolled her eyes. "Thank you Captain Obvious…" she muttered under her breath.

Lightning narrowed his eyes. "What did you just-"

"Listen, Mr. McQueen, I just wanted to let you know, so please stop being so paranoid!"

"I am not paranoid! I am concerned and rightly so! Storm slammed you against a wall! You remember that, don't you?!"

Cruz frowned. "...why are you bringing that up? That was such a long time ago Mr. McQueen!"

"Did he ever apologize for it?" he challenged.

Cruz fell silent. No, Storm hadn't, but that was behind them now. Storm has reached out trying to be friends with her and she was glad for his friendship. He's still had some issues, but he was slowly changing into something for the better. Now their friendship could be possibly going in another direction. She wanted to explore that.

"Trust me on this kiddo, don't let your guard down around Storm. He's up to something!"

"Up to what?" Cruz demanded, completely frustrated. "Except train, he hasn't done anything!"

"Don't you think it's weird for him to suddenly befriend you out of the blue?" Lightning insisted. "And now he's taking you out on a date? It's suspicious if you ask me!"

"Taking me out? We're not dating Mr. McQueen! I am just getting a pint of oil at El Monto! I'll see you in a few, alright?" Cruz turned to leave the shed when she heard Lightning call out to her.

"Cruz!" he pleaded one last time. "Don't go!"

"But… I want to go…" she whispered. And she drove off. Simple as that.

Feeling numb, Cruz rode down to Ramone's House of Body Art shop. Luckily, the Chevrolet Impala low-rider was free of customers at the moment. "Mr. Ramone, I need a favor…"

"It's just Ramone," he reminded her. "And what can I do for you today?"

"I would like to get a quick wax. I am going out… with … with a friend."

"Ohhh a friend, eh?" he asked with a glint in his eyes. "Does this friend happen to be Storm?"

Cruz couldn't meet his eyes. "I… I just want to look nice, alright?"

Ramone winked at her. "Girl, I got you! You don't have to say another word, Ramone is going to fix you up nicely! Come on into the color room and put these on your tires!" He tossed her some wheel coverings.

"Wait, you're spraying me down?" Cruz asked confused. "But I only asked for-"

"It'll look better than a quick wax and it will only take a few minutes. I will spray you with a temporary gloss, alright? It will wash off in a couple of days. Promise!"

Cruz grinned. "That's perfect! Let's get started then. I got a date to keep—I-I-I-I mean my rendezvous, NO! I mean I can't keep him waiting! AGH!" she was turning into such a wreck. "Ah-ha…ha… j-just ignore me, alright? Forget I even said those things!"

"Suuuuure I will," Ramone chuckled Ahh, it's poetic, really, young love~" the telephone ranged in the background. "Oh, let me get the phone first! Just hang tight for a second, dear." He drove out the room.

Cruz blinked, feeling stunned. "…Okay…" she slipped on the wheel covers Ramone had given her.

Was Mr. Ramone serious when he said what was between her and Jackson was love?

'Is that what love does… cause division?' Cruz thought sadly. Remembering Lightning's objection to Storm. Mr. McQueen was turning into a father figure these past few months and disobeying him never sat right with her. She was raised from childhood to always obey her parents.

And now look at her.

She had betrayed her mother by quitting her secure job as a trainer and now she is betraying Mr. McQueen by being with Storm. Is this what you did when you love someone? That you are willing to break the hearts of the ones you love for something or someone else you loved even more?

As Cruz contemplated this, Ramone returned. "Cruz…" he drove back into the garage with a solemn look on his face. "…you may have to reschedule that date of yours…"

"Why?" Cruz panicked. "Just who was on the phone?"

"It was my client, Otis," Ramone's face looked pensive as he continued, "He's a lemon who wanted some auto work done by yours truly. So, Mater was supposed to drive up to Northern California to have him towed here to my shop."

"And?" Cruz asked urgently, the pit of her tank began to roll something fierce.

"He was supposed to be here today for an appointment, but According to Otis, Mater still hasn't even shown up…" Ramone explained, growing visibly more concerned. "…that isn't like him… and with that gang driving about, what were they called again? Oh, yeah, the Nut and Bolt Flickers-"

Cruz snorted.

"This isn't a laughing matter, Cruz! They are in an underground parts trafficking ring who are on the FBI's wanted list! If they got their hooks on Mater, they would sell him for scrap!"

Cruz gasped in horror at hearing this. She hurriedly threw off the brown-papered wheel covers. "I'm going to get Mr. McQueen! He'll know what to do!"