Surprise! Two chapters in a night. :)

Enjoy!

The rest of the week rolled away and Friday was brought in on the tires of hope and anxiety.

Chick paced back and forth in the back lot where the big rigs parked, as Sam sipped on a can of oil after a long and exhausting drive. He watched his friend turn around and around, treading the same tracks back and forth, a look of intensity on Chick's grill and in his eyes.

"Where is she?"

Patiently, Sam replied, "She's coming, Chick. She said she'd be here, and she will."

"What if she had second thoughts or something?"

"Have you ever known a Weathers to bail on something?" Chick grunted in grudging agreement, so Sam went on. "Exactly. Georgia will be here."

Sam had no doubts as to whether or not she would make it; his concern was that she wouldn't make it in time to see Chick before the race. He didn't show it, though - he wanted Chick to feel as reassured as possible. Races already made Chick a wreck mentally, and he didn't need this kind of added stress. Sam wondered if it would do the Buick some good to get over to the sponsor's tent. Sam liked having the company - he felt honored that he was one of the few vehicles Chick counted on as a friend - but hiding out back here made the stock car look worse in Malone's eyes.

"Chick, you really should go out there to the sponsor's tent..." Sam started hesitantly.

"Why? I don't like any of them at all."

It was so blunt that Sam felt like laughing. "Not even the pitties? You used to like them."

Chick shot him a glance, but didn't say anything. Sam sighed internally, thinking to himself, Races always get him in a mood like this. Where are you, Georgia?

"Please, Chick. Save face. The more you do what they expect, the better it will turn out for you."

Chick stopped pacing and looked up at the big rig. Ugh, he's pleading with me now. The Buick immediately felt guilty at his impatience towards Sam, but expressed it through an exasperated sigh and a 'fine'. He relented, albeit with an air of frustration, and said goodbye to Sam, who wished him good luck. He thanked him, though curtly, and feeling ashamed and irritated at the same time, he drove away quickly to avoid the big rig's maybe-possibly-slightly-offended gaze.

He emerged out into sunlight, dragging himself down the line of tents. He passed the Dinoco tent, and hopefully lifted his eyes to see if Georgia was there, but she wasn't. He had the vague fear that she wasn't going to show up, and he felt dejected. He thought he saw Tex catch his gaze for a moment but Chick had looked away so fast and wasn't about to turn back to check.

There were few cars at the sponsor's tent, which was common, and the pitties were mulling around cracking jokes with one another amiably while the crew chief spoke with first Stamose and then a yellow beetle that Chick didn't recognize. He turned towards the pitties, putting his back defiantly towards the aide, and was thinking of going over to talk to them, but they didn't even seem to notice him.

So he sat there, feeling extremely out of place, looking up at his face on the banner atop the tent.

Do I really look like that? Damn, I'm getting old. I need to do some work on the mustache. Chrysler, I hope McQueen wasn't actually serious about my 'stache. But that's McQueen, what do I care what he thinks?

Chick became aware that there was a sudden rush of cars in his general area, and they were all talking in excited murmurs. He directed his attention to Stamose and the beetle, the aide looking so incredibly pissed off that Chick wanted to laugh and the beetle smiling in a little rueful way that didn't sit with him right.

"What are you looking at that's got you so pissed, Stamose?" Chick asked, rolling towards him.

The beetle turned and gave him that same nasty little look. "Your girlfriend and that gaudy tailfin."

Chick's smirk disappeared immediately.

"What?"

His eyes snapped up and sure enough, there was Georgia in all her Plymouth-era glory, tailfin glinting coquettishly in the sun, her eyes flashing animatedly but her grill set in a polite smile. She wasn't looking at Chick; instead, her gaze was locked with the aide's, and while Stamose was openly glaring, Georgia was killing him with a purposeful, bitter brand of politeness.

She looked as if she would go to war with that aide and win, and in that moment Chick thought she was the most attractive woman he had ever seen, tailfin and all.

Chick openly stared at her, watching as she flicked her eyes away from Stamose to land on him.

"I'm sorry it took me so long," she started as she rolled up to him. "I hope I'm not too late."

"No, you're good," Chick answered, admiring her. Cameras were flashing, and the Buick could still feel the hateful gaze of Stamose. He thought he heard someone comment that it was 'the Georgia Weathers - yes, The King's daughter' - but he had never cared less than he did now. "I didn't know you were into the whole fashionably-late garbage or whatever."

"It's hard to have a body like this and not make an entrance," she said under her breath. Chick knew that she was referencing her tailfin and her unmistakable make and model, but he felt his hood get hot and had to steady himself. He thought he saw a glimpse of the teenage car he had met so many years before, still youthful and vibrant, and it made her shine even more.

"Yeah," he agreed. "That was definitely some entrance..."

She winked at him, and then said, "When's the race start?"

Chick scrambled for an answer. "20 minutes. I've gotta get prepped here soon, you know... Get de-briefed, harass McQueen." He could feel the gaze of his crew chief and the pitties on him and the Plymouth, and it made him feel incredibly powerful. Here he was, boldly with the baby blue Georgia Weathers, all her attention focused on him. She didn't even bother with the cameras and the ever-growing group of on-lookers.

"Are you gonna win today?"

"Hell yeah," he found himself saying. Georgia grinned, her entire face lighting up.

"I know you've got it in you, man. Prove them all wrong. And hey," she started, lowering her voice to a gentle, genuine tone that made him feel as if she was speaking only to him with disregard to anybody else, "no matter what happens, I'm still gonna be in your corner. And I'll be waitin' for you when you get back. I was gonna give you somethin' special before the race, but I'd rather not give it to you in front of all this mess." She gestured to the paparazzi that was forming. "It was for you, not them."

Chick felt a rush of fondness for her, but the cameras made him shy away from displaying it.

"Thanks for the cheesy speech," he said, nodding, but by the look hiding in his brown eyes she could tell what he meant.

"Good luck, Chick," she said, smiling. And she waved, and he waved back, and as she was turning to leave he saw the look in Stamose's eyes and he had to milk it, so -

"Georgia!"

She turned and looked at him, one eyelid raised questioningly, still smiling.

"Give it to me afterward?" He said it loud enough so everyone within a few feet, including the aide, could hear.

"If you win, yeah," she answered.

"Count on it."

Georgia drove away, feeling as if she might scream.

She could see the way he was looking at her - any car could, and it gave her chills. She had nearly strutted in there, swooped Chick up, and then disappeared again, and she felt a silly rush of happiness and pleasure, partially because of the way Chick looked when he saw her, partially because of the look of pure fury on Stamose, and partially because she felt like she was home again.

So many times she had been to the tracks with Strip and Tex, her mother watching from the press boxes. Georgia got a front row seat to her father's races - when she wasn't of course gallivanting around in the tents sneaking quarts of oil and eating and talking to the Dinoco crew, as well as any pittie who happened to cross her path. Georgia hadn't been here for a long time, however; nearly seven years!

She went straight for the Dinoco tent, and when the crew saw her they flocked towards her, forming a group and chattering like old friends who had been separated for lifetimes. The older crew members had thought it would be Georgia they would be servicing, and the younger ones all hoped that one day she would suddenly appear on the scene and be their racer.

Of course, today was not the day, and they all knew that day would never come, but she was here nonetheless, bringing the essence of Strip Weathers with her.

"What are you doing here?" the crew chief asked, his headset in his truck bed since he did not currently have a racer.

"Got invited to come and thought I'd drop in." She smiled.

The pitties all looked at one another conspiratorially. "Really?" remarked the chief, seeming vaguely surprised.

Georgia narrowed her eyes. "Are you planning somethin'? Dad was acting the same way before I left..."

"Us? No, it's not us you have to worry about," the chief said.

"But Tex is another story," a pittie added.

"Is that a hint?" Georgia asked, laughing a little.

"Yes, Georgia, it's a hint. Go find Tex! Go, go!" The crew chief shooed her in the right direction hastily, an excited expression on his grill.

So the Superbird drove around the entrance to the tent, weaving her way between rows of cars who either gave a wave or thought she was an un-numbered Strip Weathers. She looked for the golden glint of her uncle, or for the bull horns that decorated his hood, a comfortable feeling of contentedness settling in her tank. She had forgotten how nice it was to smell a race stadium.

The baby blue Plymouth found Tex Dinoco parked in a corner of the sectioned-off Dinoco area, talking to a few cars who were most likely sponsors of the sponsor, and she patiently watched the Cadillac work his magic, charming the bumper off of the big shots and their lady friends, raking in more credit for the fuel company and largest and most prestigious racecar-sponsor label known in the racing world.

After a few minutes Tex noticed her and said his goodbyes to the couples, before calling her over. "Georgia Rian! It's about time you showed up."

"Hey, Tex."

The Caddy started right in. "Strip's been tellin' me that you and Hicks've been goin' together."

Georgia flushed a little. Was he going to be the one to lecture her? "Yeah?"

"Mhm." The sponsor settled back on his tires, eyeing her. "And since the day you come off the assembly line, I ain't ever seen you take a shine to any car like you have to Hicks. Now, my judgment on it prob'ly wouldn't please you, but that's not yours to worry about. What I think you should worry about is the cars around him. His sponsor is notorious for being brutal, and he doesn't like interference."

Georgia suddenly felt her tank get heavy as she remembered the encounter with Stamose earlier in the week.

"If that's true, then how worried do you think I need to be if his aide threatened me?"

Tex's eyelids rose in surprise, his grill parting slightly, and then it changed suddenly to a glower. "Damn it." He sighed. "I don't know if now's the best time, because of that, but what I really wanted you here for was to make you an offer."

It was Georgia's turn to be surprised. "An offer?"

The Coupe de Ville nodded once. "I want you to be Dinoco's official recruiter."

The Plymouth could hardly believe it. "Huh?"

"You heard me, Georgia. I know it's a tall order, but you're good with cars. If you can see the good in Chick Hicks - who frankly, you have the right to hate - then you can weed out the right racer for Dinoco. We need to get back on the map."

"I thought..." She trailed off. But I failed. I could never be what Dad was. If I can't do that, then how can I be what Tex is?

Tex reached out to nudge her tire. "Think about it Georgia."

For the first time in a long time, she struggled for words. Talking about this was not her forte; she had been vague with Chick and had only told him the details he needed to know to understand that she could relate to him, and even then it was slim.

Because the truth was, it was still hard. Despite Strip's encouragement and lack of disappointment, she felt very much like a failure. What she had been groomed to do, she had not done.

Georgia felt a wave of emotion sweep over her, and she chose her words carefully. "Tex, it's taken me so long to come to terms with not being able to be a part of this world. Sometimes I can't..." She paused. "Sometimes I can't be in my own house without feeling it. I know that racing is always going to be part of my life, but I'm not sure that I want it to be part of my life like this. If I get involved again, I'll be opening a wound that I'm not sure ever healed." The feeling that she had returned home was still there, but now the Superbird wasn't sure that she was happy with it.

"I know. But think about it, like I said. You don't need to rush into a decision. I just think that since you know the ins and outs so well - and because you've failed - you would be able to help some car like you." The Cadillac suddenly leveled his gaze with hers. "And I think it'd make your daddy real proud."

Georgia felt like she'd been hit by a semi. She looked at him scrutinizingly, her frame suddenly tensed. He's playing me. He knows how I feel, and he's playing me.

She at once wanted to tell him no, that she was not and would never be interested in the offer. But she had never said no to her father or her uncle before, and she remembered why she had always felt so intimidated by the golden Cadillac. He was smart, and he knew how to get what he wanted, and he had no shame playing her need to make Strip proud. He never had.

She waited for him to retract. But he did not. Tex did not move, did not say another word. But he knew that his words had hit her in the right place.

Georgia felt her anger turn to helplessness. He had pushed the right button, he had asked her to do something and brought the question of Strip's pride in her into it, and she felt like a teenager again. A teenager with no choice, no out. No options but to agree, or risk disappointing the cars who most mattered to her for the second time. She didn't see how she could say no now, how she could have ever said no, because she had never said no before.

"I'll do it."

But she hated it.

Tex grinned, relaxing. "You sure are Strip's girl. He'll be proud of you."

"Thanks, Tex."

But in that moment, Georgia felt betrayed, and she wondered why she couldn't be more like Chick and say no whenever she wanted.