Team Satomi conducted the first of their daily strategy meetings that evening.

Andrei and the team's three pilots discussed strategy for their first race of the season against Sledge Mamma the following weekend. In his usual laid-back manner, Andrei pointed out several key traits that Sledge Mamma liked to employ during their races. Mark then presented the telemetry data on the newly updated mechs. He made sure to emphasize the newly added pieces which would aid in down force and overall stability of the mechs. Takeshi, Liz, and Amy then discussed a strategy combining both their new abilities and how to counter Sledge Mamma's.

Eventually a consensus was reached and Miss Satomi closed the meeting out by wishing everyone a safe weekend and the team performed their usual send-off cheer before the meeting dispersed.

"Hey Mark!" Takeshi called out before leaving with Liz and Amy.

"Yeah?"

"Will we be able to take the mechs onto the track next week?"

Mark nodded. "I think so. I'm planning on making the final spec runs early next week, so I'm going to need you take them out anyway."

"That's great. I'll look forward to it! Have a good weekend!"

"You too!" After Takeshi and the others took their leave, Mark began to gather up the materials with which he had made his presentation on the mechs.

He felt something jab him in the shoulder. In response, he turned and found himself face to face with Miss Satomi. "I'm sorry to hold keep you here longer Mark, but could I have quick word with you?'

"Of course."

They retreated into the hallway bordering the meeting room and Miss Satomi closed the door to give them a sense of privacy. "I was very impressed with your presentation," Miss Satomi began.

"Well, thank you."

"I really wanted to thank you for all the hard work I know you've done during the off-season," she continued. "You've probably had more to do than I have," she added lightly.

"I wouldn't necessarily say that," Mark responded cheekily.

"But I certainly would."

Mark held up a hand. "No thanks are necessary, Miss Satomi. I'm just doing my job."

"I know. Everything for the sake of the job," Miss Satomi echoed. She got serious. "But I also wanted to make sure that you weren't taking the situation too lightly."

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone around here is really optimistic about the start of the new season and I just get the impression that we could underachieve somewhat. You know, treat the season like a pushover and assume that we're going to win just because we have the last two seasons."

"I can understand that," Mark conceded. "But you don't have to worry about me, Miss Satomi."

She smiled. "You know you don't have to call me that, Mark."

"What?"

"Miss Satomi. You know my name and I don't mind if you call me Michiru. We've known for how long…five years?"

Mark was taken aback. "Really? Has it been that long?" He realized that it had. He'd been with the team and working for her for the past five years. "Okay then…Michiru. But like I was saying, you don't have to worry about me not taking my job seriously. I know it may be easy to jump to the conclusion that since we've won the last two championships we'll be able to win again this year just by doing what we've always done. That's why I spent so much time updating the mechs during the off-season."

She nodded in response. "That's what struck me about your presentation. You've been very aggressive with the updates on the mechs."

"I chose to go in that direction with the design and maintenance because I know the other teams will be stepping up their own designs in an attempt to catch us. I wanted to be sure that we were still one step ahead of all the rest of them."

"And just because I worked my ass off, please excuse the language, during the off-season, doesn't mean I'm about to slack off once the season gets going. I'm still planning on spending many long nights here in the shops preparing for the races, making sure the mechs are in top condition, and also to make sure that no one tries to break into this place."

"Hopefully we won't have that problem this season," Miss Satomi added darkly.

"Plus," he added, "I knew that the new sponsors you got for us were going to be expecting the maximum from us. I kept that in mind too while I was working all this off-season. I couldn't let you down after all you did for the team."

"Wow, that was nice of you." He was puzzled at her remark. "To think of me in a situation like that."

Mark colored slightly. "Oh. Well…how could I not?"

"What do you mean?" Miss Satomi asked, her interest piqued.

Mark paused, trying to find the right words. "Well…it's not that hard to understand really," he began, attempting not stumble over his words. "After everything you've done for the team over the past few years, keeping us together even when the money wasn't exactly there and when we otherwise would've been at each other's throats. You pretty much kept the team from imploding just as we started to gain momentum in the IG-1. After all that…how could I not be dedicated to someone like you?"

It was now Miss Satomi's turn to have her cheeks turn red. "Oh…I…I never knew you felt that way, Mark."

"It's not just me," he quickly added. "The entire team thinks of you like that. Everything you've done, everything you still do for us…it makes all the…shit that we've been through seem like a walk in the park. That's what makes us…all of us so grateful to you. We owe you so much…Michiru."

Miss Satomi's smile was bright enough to light up a room. "Thank you, Mark. I really needed that."

He smiled in return. "Any time."

"I have some work to do," she said. "You know…to make sure the team doesn't go under before the start of the season."

He chuckled. "All in a day's work, huh?"

She nodded. "Have a good weekend, Mark."

"You too, Michiru."

She walked around him and started down the hallway, leaving him standing by the closed doorway. He went to open the door to the meeting room to collect his materials, but before he did so, he turned and watched her leave.

Something about her just made him keep watching her. The ways her high-heels clicked audibly against the floor. The way her black hair seemed to sway as she moved. Even just the professional way she carried herself as she took her leave. For some reason, he couldn't take his eyes off of her. It wasn't until she disappeared around a corner that he tore his gaze from the spot where she had been.

What the hell was that about? he asked himself.

He then recalled the conversation he and Takeshi had had earlier during the day. Takeshi's words repeated themselves within the confines of his mind.

Takeshi was right, Mark admitted sheepishly. She turned my head.

Andrei was the only other member of the team still in the meeting room when Mark reentered. He began to gather up his papers and other materials when he heard the man's deep voice over his shoulder. "Hey!"

"What's up, Andrei?" Mark asked.

"Nice job today," said the former ace pilot known as Rocket G. "I was really impressed with all the work you've done on the mechs."

Mark smiled. A compliment from a legend like Andrei was worth a hundred by anyone else. "Thanks. I plan on only doing more as the season progresses."

"Yeah, well…don't overwork yourself, alright?" Andrei said.

"I'll be sure not to. Even when I've had to pull an all-nighter to get the mechs ready for the next race I didn't over stress myself."

"That's good. At least we know we have one person that isn't burdened by stress."

"You mean you get stressed out?" Mark inquired.

Andrei shrugged. "Sometimes."

"How do you deal with it then? The stress that is?"

Andrei considered the question. "Do you want to know what I do now, or what I used to do?"

"I guess now," Mark answered.

"Then that's easy. I go home, sit down in my easy chair, and have a nice, long, heart-to-heart talk with my wife."

Mark chuckled somewhat. "That seems like an effective to deal with stress."

"You have no idea," Andrei responded. "After all those years, just to be able to spend time with Jane and my daughter is enough to make me happy. It really helps when you have someone else to talk to in tense situations."

Mark had to nod in agreement. Once again his conversation with Takeshi came to mind. He realized how much he would like to have someone to talk to in stressful situations, to share his feelings with.

But, that was just wishful thinking on his part. Instead of remaining fixated on that subject, he gathered up his belongings, bid Andrei goodbye, and went back to the shop to close up for the weekend.

Half an hour later, Mark strolled out of the team's headquarters in street clothes, having changed out of his grease-stained overalls, and headed for the adjacent parking garage where his car waited.

The weather had gotten worse since he had arrived that morning. Now instead of having the sun peek through the openings between the clouds, the clouds dominated the entire sky, not leaving a single window of opening for the sun to shine through. The air smelled of moisture, indicating that it was going to rain soon. And judging by the dark grey of the clouds overhead, this wasn't going to be a simple drizzle.

Mark's car was located on the second floor of the garage, a simple four-door black sedan that was worth a little more than market value. It did not exactly fit with the casual way he carried himself, but even he had room in his life for a few luxuries.

He tossed his carrying case into the backseat and sat behind the wheel. As he closed the driver's door, he ran through the weekend tasks that he had to take care of. Being at the shop all the time didn't leave much room for social activities, so his off weekends were usually spent around his apartment fixing things and running errands. It was not all that unlike what he did here.

I may actually have some free time this weekend, he realized after going over his schedule in his head. Maybe I'll go see a movie…nah, there's nothing I want to see.

I could go to the park and hang out there. But what the hell would I do…sit around and watch all the happy couples…

Mark stopped himself mid-thought. He was thinking about relationships again. All it had taken was one conversation with Takeshi and suddenly he appeared to be fixated on the subject.

I don't want to think about that now, he told himself. I've got too much to do…too many responsibilities. Now where's somewhere I can go…

It when then that Mark realized his car had failed to start.

He tried turning the key, but once again the engine failed to start. He tried it numerous times, over and over again. Oh come on…he complained inside his mind. Eventually, after about the tenth try, Mark slammed his palms against the steering wheel and unbuckled his seat belt.

He raised the hood of the car and peered at the engine inside. He checked everything he could realistically check in his current state: oil level, plug wires, battery. He couldn't find the problem.

Mark closed the hood with an ugly thud. A mechanic of his skill and stature, who worked on machines a hundred times more complex than this, couldn't figure out what was wrong with a simple car.

He then heard something else. It was faint, but he eventually was able to identify it as a dripping liquid.

At first he thought it had started raining, but when he looked outside the garage, it was not. Then Mark squatted down and looked underneath his car. It was here that he discovered the source of the sound.

Damn. Fuel line ripped. A stream of gasoline was leaking from the car's undercarriage, pooling on the asphalt in a puddle of brown slop. That was what happened then.

With the fuel line ruptured, his car couldn't run. And he couldn't just patch up the line; he needed to get more gas and refill the tank, but there nearest gas station was a long way off. He couldn't go into the team building and find gas there either. The mechs didn't run on gas and he couldn't just siphon some out of one of the team's supply vehicles for his own personal use either.

Realizing that he had no other alternative, Mark called a tow-truck.

It was another twenty minutes before the truck arrived. Mark inquired where the driver would be taking his car he found out that it was being taken to a shop ten miles in the opposite direction from his apartment. When Mark stated that he could simply do the job himself at home, the driver stated that his protocol stressed that he had to take the car to a shop and that moving it back to Mark's home was out of the question.

Despite pleading the driver, Mark eventually gave in and allowed the driver to take his car to his shop.

Once the truck and his car departed, Mark made his way back down to the lowest level of the garage and came across an even more demoralizing sight. It had started raining.

Actually, raining would be an understatement. Water was coming down in torrents, soaking the ground to the point where the water was standing in many areas.

His apartment was only about a mile and a half away and with city transportation nowhere in sight, nor any sign of the rain stopping any time soon, Mark realized that he had no choice but to walk home. Reluctantly using his carrying case as a make-shift shield from the downpour, Mark set off for home.

The rain fell in sheets all around him, soaking his clothes and making them stick to his skin. His glasses fogged up due to the moisture in the air and he was suddenly longing for his overalls once again.

It didn't help that the cars that occasionally passed by on the road beside him threw up a deluge of water that only made the situation even more undesirable.

Thunder boomed in the distance although he hadn't seen any lightning. Just the fact that the thunder had sounded indicated that lightning was in the area, which made seeking shelter under a nearby tree out of the question.

Mark soldiered on, the situation deteriorating with every step he took.

And now, as if to make the scenario even more undesirable, an unseen car was honking at him. The high-pitched noise rattled his ear drums and echoed inside his head, causing it to ache. He glanced down at his feet. He wasn't at all close to the road, which made the driver's actions even more dumbfounding.

"Mark…!" He thought he had heard someone call out his name, but he brushed it aside as merely the rain.

The car honked again. Now he was getting agitated. Some idiot thought that they could take advantage of his situation and make use of their car horn. Well they weren't going to get the pleasure of a negative reaction from him. He kept moving forward, trying to ignore the approaching car.

"Mark!" It wasn't until he heard his name being shouted only a few feet away that he turned.

"Mark! What the hell are you doing?" Mark was shocked to discover that Miss Satomi was the driver of the car. Her face, unobstructed by a window, was one of concern.

Mark had to yell in order for her to hear him over the rain. "My car broke down! I had to get it towed!"

"Where are you going?"

"My apartment! It's about a mile away!"

"Get in. I'll drive you!"

Mark started to walk to the passenger side of the car, but stopped himself. Would it be right for him to accept this?

"What's the matter?" Miss Satomi asked.

"I…can't."

"What?"

"I can't ask you to do that, Miss Satomi," he said.

She leaned her head out the window, the rain beginning to drip on her face. "You don't have to," she said softly. "Now get in, before you get sick."

Her voice was soothing, almost inviting. Mark suddenly couldn't refuse her.

"Alright!" he sighed. "You're the boss!" He slowly made his way to the other side of the car as the rain continued to fall around him.