Hey everyone

Hey everyone…. I'm terribly sorry for the long wait for this chapter…getting through the end of senior year and moving in to college was way more hectic than I thought it would be. But I'm finally settled, and I had a phone call from one of my dear friends yesterday telling me that I'd better post or else.

Again, terribly sorry. I hope this chapter starts to make up for my (inadvertent) negligence.

Random Fact: Greensboro, NC has more Quakers per capita than Philadelphia, PA. Who would have guessed that?

Btw, this chapter is dedicated to my friend Bella. You know who you are…

Love always, Shail


"Oh boy," said Sparky. "Here we go. All right, all right. But only because Emma asked. It all started when I was five…"

"What started when you were five?" asked Spritle. Sparky sighed. This was gonna be a long breakfast. And why did this story have to come up in front of the most incredible girl he'd met in years? She was beautiful, sweet, kind, and she certainly knew her way around a garage. That much was certain by the masterpiece that she drove. If only she would let him look under the hood…

This line of thoughts was quickly interrupted by Spritle repeatedly poking his arm, begging to hear the story that Sparky had begun to tell.

"Sparkyyyy," he whined. "Finish it! You barely started!"

"That's because you keep interrupting him," quipped Trixie. "Go on, Sparky. We're listening."

"That's what I'm afraid of," he mumbled, so quietly that no one could hear him. Or so he thought.

Emma had heard this, and she didn't quite know what to make of it. From what she knew, granted it wasn't much, Sparky seemed to be pretty laid back, so whatever had happened must be pretty embarrassing for him. She gently squeezed his hand, and was extremely surprised when he looked up and blushed slightly before squeezing back.

"Might as well get this over with," he began. "When I was about five—"

"You said that already!"

"Spritle! Let him talk!"

"Fine…"

"All right. When I was five, I started to really get into cars. I mean, I had always sat with my dad to watch the races, especially Thunderhead, but I had never really had the idea of being a mechanic until I saw Tracy McGee on TV that year. She was the mechanic for Tucker Gauges."

"I remember her," said Pops. "Tucker is one of the only honest companies left."

Sparky nodded. "Anyway, all of a sudden I wanted to be just like her, and I got obsessed with cars, and how they worked. I started building little models, mostly out of scrap I found lying around."

"I don't see what's so important about model cars," said Spritle, still miffed that he didn't know exactly why this dumb story was being told in the first place.

Before Pops could lose his temper, Emma stepped in and gently said, "He's getting there, Spritle." Sparky looked at her gratefully. She smiled back, and he had to concentrate not to forget what he was talking about.

He remembered where he was in the story, and he winced. This was the part he hated. He glanced at Mom and Pops, and started again.

"I know you two know this, but the others might not. I, well…I didn't have the greatest relationship with my dad. He…he thought the whole mechanic thing was a total waste of time. Two months into my model phase, he told me that it was a useless career and I'd never amount to anything in it anyway. Said I wasn't smart enough. I wanted to prove him wrong, so I decided to make a model car that moved. I tried the whole battery thing, but I couldn't get it to work. Didn't want to accept what he said, though."

Here, he paused again, and Emma noticed his fists were clenched, like these memories were actually hurting him. They probably were. She should know, having experienced something extremely similar only a few weeks ago.

"Jeez, Sparky, I had no idea," said Speed.

"It's all right Speed." He shook his head a little, as if to clear the bed memories, and resumed his story.

"After the batteries, I realized I had to seriously think this one out. Eventually, I decided to use the sockets in the living room to transfer the electricity into the car wiring."

Here, everyone at the breakfast table winced, and Mom gasped. "Sparky, oh honey, you could have been killed!"

Sparky was touched, as he always was, by Mom's concern, as well as the rest of the family's. "I'm still here, aren't I?" he joked. "Anyway, I was trying to use a wire to transfer the electricity, and my dad walked in to watch the news just as I had the wire, and my fingers, in the socket." More gasps.

"He turned on the light to watch the news, and…well…you can probably guess the rest."

"The rest of what?" asked Spritle. "Hey, I was good, wasn't I? I didn't say nuthin' since the last time I interrupted!"

In the face of this flawless logic, Sparky couldn't help but crack a grin. "Spritle, this whole thing started because Speed and Emma wanted to know where my nickname came from."

"Oh yeah…what nickname?"

Sparky paused, then winced. Spritle hadn't been in the garage. He'd have to say his name again.

"Spritle, Sparky is my nickname. My real name is Wilson…Wilson Sparkolomew." He bit his lip, waiting for the barrage of laughter that was a certainty.

Spritle frowned slightly, then shrugged. "Okay."

"Okay what?"

"Okay. If that's your name, then that's your name. Nuthin' I can do about it." He suddenly looked panic-stricken. "Can I still call you Sparky?" he asked with urgency.

So completely happy to not be ridiculed, Sparky grinned. "Of course you can."


THREE HOURS LATER…

Still in the jeans and shirt she'd come in, Emma was in the garage, lying on a skateboard, underneath her car, explaining exactly what was wrong. Pops and Sparky were on either side of her, similarly on skateboards underneath Emma's car, and mentally taking notes.

Pops was taking mental note of the car: what was wrong, how they could fix it, and how to make it better than it was when it came to their capable hands.

Sparky was taking mental note of Emma: how she looked, how she sounded, how she smelled… He knew it was kind of a low thing to do, but he knew Pops was listening to her, and he also knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would never be this close to her again.

Regardless of the fact that Speed already had a girlfriend, Emma would likely be attracted to him. Sparky had seen it over and over again. And even if she wasn't like those other girls, girls who looked like Emma never paid any serious attention to guys like him.

Then again, said a little voice in his head, girls who look like Emma are rarely decent mechanics, and rarely drive cars like this one.

Emma was saying something. Sparky decided he should listen.

"I know you guys said you would fix everything for me, and believe me, I trust you both, but I really do insist on helping you."

Pops stepped in before Emma went any father. "Don't worry. Believe me Emma, if it was my car, I'd insist on helping too. Not just for personal reasons, but there is definitely something to be said for fixing your own car. You want to know every inch of this car, and we fully understand and respect that. Don't we Sparky?"

Sparky nodded. "Course. I wouldn't let anybody else touch my car. Especially if I drove this masterpiece."

Emma smiled. She loved it when people appreciated her car for the incredible machine it was.

Pops looked at the two young people in front of him. Even if they couldn't sense it yet, he could. There was real chemistry here, and one of these days it was going to spark a reaction. He smiled, shook his head, rolled his eyes, and quietly left the garage to let Sparky talk to Emma alone, something he hadn't had the chance to do yet.

"So…" said Sparky, dimly aware that Pops had left the garage, leaving him alone with Emma, "Where'd you get this car anyway?" He figured this was a safe topic.

She smiled. "I won it. Won it at a very lucky hand of poker."

Sparky whistled. "I wish I had that kind of luck. This thing's amazing."

"Yeah, it used to be a stockcar. Kind of obvious, with the number of the side, huh?"

Sparky looked, and sure enough, there was a large number 43 painted on the side, beneath the starting edge of the spoiler, outlined in red that matched the body's light blue painter perfectly. Whoever designed this car really was brilliant.

While he had been admiring the car, he'd been moving closer to Emma, as she'd been stationary, standing on the floor with one foot resting gently on her skateboard, one hand resting on her car. He hadn't realized how close they were until he turned his head to look at her and there she was, not more than ten inches from his face.

She looked at him, smiling awkwardly at her, and she smiled back.

I must be absolutely crazy, he thought. Or dreaming. Yeah. I've got to be dreaming. Oh well. Long as I'm dreaming, I might as well go for it.

He leaned in a little. So did she. He leaned in a little more. So did she. They kept leaning, their faces inches, centimeters apart. Then…

The door to the garage suddenly banged against the wall as Speed came into the garage, looking for Pops.

The noise was enough to distract Sparky and Emma from themselves, and Emma's foot slipped from the skateboard. She expected to find herself flat on the concrete, but Sparky's strong arms had caught her before she fell.

"Oh, sorry guys," came Speed's apologetic voice. "I was just looking for Pops. I'll let you guys get back to the car. Unless you're finished already…" he trailed off, and went back in the house, completely unaware of what he had interrupted.

Sparky awkwardly helped Emma back to her feet. She unnecessarily dusted off her jeans, and Sparky stammered out an attempt to ask her if she was all right. She assured him that she was.

"Thanks for catching me."

"S-sure. N-n-no problem. Do you want to…" He wasn't sure what to do.

"Go back in the house?" she asked, even though she would rather stay in the garage with Sparky.

Sparky sighed. He knew he wasn't dreaming. He should have known that he wouldn't have actually gotten to kiss her. Life never worked out for him that well. Still, it had seemed like she wanted that kiss as much as he did. Well, maybe not that much.

He abruptly realized that Emma was awaiting an answer from him. "Yeah," he sighed. "We should probably go back in. They might send someone looking for us, and I don't know if my reflexes are good enough to catch you again."

She just smiled that crazy smile of hers that made him go weak in the knees. "Oh, Sparky." She grinned. "I have faith in you. I know you'd catch me." She quickly leaned in and gave him a brief hug before quickly heading for the garage door and going in the house, leaving Sparky standing in the center of the garage, and very confused, and with only one thought in his mind: what on earth had just happened?


Second chapter done!

So much for the almost kiss…and so much for how the Sparkster got his nickname.

Don't worry, there will be a kiss in there somewhere…one that actually qualifies for a kiss. I promise.

Til the next chapter…R&R please!!

Happy trails,

beanie