Baby You Can Drive My Car

Homelander stood in the middle of Lot 49 at Vought Tower, watching the headlights approach him. The lot was a good three-quarters of a mile from the Tower, which was why Ashley had selected it as the site of his first driving lesson. The lot was completely empty right now, which made sense as it was three in the morning. "It's better from a security standpoint," she'd told him after she'd set up the lesson. "Plus, you won't be nervous if nobody's there watching except me."

"I don't get nervous," he told her. She gave him a look that he couldn't read and repeated, "Lot 49, three o'clock."

Ashley pulled the vehicle into a parking place nearby and got out. She wore jeans, Nikes, and a New York Dolls T-shirt with a pair of red high-heeled shoes as the central image. It was the first time he'd seen her in anything other than business wear. It looked good on her. "So you still want to do this?"

He nodded. "I want to learn how to drive. I should have been able to drive years ago when I was a teenager."

"Did Vought say no?"

"Stan Edgar did. He said I didn't need to know how to drive since I could fly anywhere I needed to go much faster than any car."

"Flying isn't very discreet, though." Was she thinking he wasn't very discreet? He had a remark on the tip of his tongue about her fucking Adam Bourke in the men's room at the Dawn of the Seven premiere, but she didn't give him a chance to use it. "I can see why he wouldn't want you to do it. Driving makes you independent and I'm sure that's the last thing he wanted."

He'd never thought of it that way before. "That's an interesting idea." He took another look at the car she'd arrived in. It was a generic Kia Optima and it bothered him because it wasn't a car that seemed like Ashley's style. "When did you get your car?"

Startled, she looked back at the Optima. "Oh, this isn't my car. I'm not teaching you to drive in my car. This is a rental."

"Why don't you want to teach me on your car?"

She hesitated, obviously choosing her words carefully. "My car has a stick shift and that can be confusing for new drivers. I wanted to teach you on an automatic transmission so you don't have to worry about the clutch and shifting gears all the time." It wasn't a lie, but Homelander didn't think that was all there was to it.

"What do you drive?"

"Not sure I want to tell you. I think you might laugh."

His brow furrowed. "I figured you drove something like a Mercedes or a Lexus. You don't?"

"No, those are boring cars for generic executives. I wouldn't have one of those."

Homelander got tired of her evasion. "What do you drive, Ashley?"

She pressed her lips together and let out an irritated sniff. "A 1973 Ford Mustang Mach 1."

That was a surprise. Homelander looked at her with a little smile. "Is it yellow?"

Ashley's lips thinned even more. "Yes, it is."

"So you drive Eleanor."

That surprised her. "You watched Gone in 60 Seconds?"

"The original, not the Nicolas Cage version."

"Will wonders never cease," she said. "Not really. H.B. Halicki bought a few 1971 Mustangs for Gone in 60 Seconds and retrofitted them to look like 1973 models because it took a while to get financial backing for the movie. And what he had were Sportsroofs, not Mach 1s."

It explained why she wasn't offering up her own car for his driving lessons. "I'd never have thought you were a gearhead."

"Probably because I'm not. Do you want to get started?"

Still feeling the lingering remnants of amusement that Ashley had a classic muscle car, Homelander got behind the wheel of the Optima. Ashley slid into the passenger seat. "Seat belt," she told him.

He snorted. "There is no way anything could possibly happen to this car that could damage me in the least. Did you forget I'm effectively invulnerable?"

"Not for a second, but you need to put it on anyway."

"And why is that?"

"Because it's the law."

"Even in this empty parking lot at three in the morning."

"Yes. Plus, you need to develop good driving habits, and that's one of them."

Well, she had him there. With a put-upon sigh, he took hold of the seat belt and fastened it. Ashley smiled and fastened her own. "Okay, the next thing you want to do is check the mirrors, rearview and the side mirrors, to make sure you can see what's behind you."

The rearview was fine because he only had to reach up to adjust it, but the side mirrors irritated him until Ashley pointed out the controls. He gave her a dirty look which she didn't seem to notice. Maybe he should have gotten someone else to teach him, but she was the only person he felt comfortable enough with to expose his ignorance in this area. It annoyed him.

She fell silent for a second, then sighed and said, "You can start the car now."

He twisted the key in the ignition and the engine came to life. Then Homelander turned on the radio and a flood of auto-tuned teenage pop filled the car. Ashley reached over to switch it off. "When you're learning, we shouldn't have the radio on. You need to concentrate on the mechanics of driving. Once you've learned, you can have the radio on as much as you want."

"You are such a killjoy," he told her. "I think you just don't like the music. What kind of music do you like?"

Ashley indicated her T-shirt. "Late Seventies East Coast punk, although there are some West Coast bands that are okay, like X and the Dead Kennedys, and some British bands like Siouxsie and the Banshees and the Fall."

"Uhhh—yeah." That was even more surprising than her muscle car. How much was there that he didn't know about Ashley?

An awkward silence fell before she got back to the task at hand. "I'm sure you know this, but the pedal on the left is the brake and the pedal on the right is the gas."

He gave her another dirty look which she ignored. "Yes, I do know that."

"Good. On the gearshift they have the gears marked. Right now you're in Park. You want to shift into either Reverse, if you're backing out of a parking place, or Drive. Since there are no other cars here, you can shift into Drive. When you're shifting from Park into Drive, press down on the brake pedal and then shift gears. Once you're in Drive, let up on the brake pedal gradually and press down on the gas slowly. If you need to stop the car once it starts moving, press down on the brake pedal. I know you can stop the car by putting your foot through the floor and dragging it on the pavement like Fred Flintstone, but I'd consider it a personal favor to me if you didn't do that."

Just to rile her up, he asked, "Why, didn't you get insurance on the car?"

"As much as they would sell me. I just don't know what they'll think if the car comes back with a foot-shaped hole in the floor."

"You should stop worrying so much about what people think."

She ignored that. "When you're ready to go, make sure you press down on the gas slowly."

"How generous of you." Homelander shifted the car into Drive and the car jerked forward. Ashley's hands shot forward to brace against the dashboard.

"The gas! Easy on the gas!"

He took his foot off the gas completely, feeling embarrassed. The car continued forward, slowing by the second. Ashley took her hands off the dashboard and leaned back against the seat. Her heartbeat pounded with the rush of adrenalin. "Take it easy," he told her. "There's nothing for us to hit in this parking lot. You need to relax."

"I'm sorry," she murmured as her pulse began to slow. "Once you get a little driving experience, you'll do fine. You won't even think about any of this, just like the rest of us. You'll be able to do this on autopilot."

"You shouldn't get so tense, Ashley. You know we're going to have moments like this when you're teaching me."

"Yeah, I should have dropped a Xanax earlier."

"Do you take those often?"

"Only when dealing with you."

He didn't expect to feel hurt at that, but he did. "Am I really that bad?"

Ashley picked up on the undercurrents in his voice and put her hand on his wrist. "It's just that I don't know what to expect out of you from one minute to the next. One moment you're screaming and threatening, the next you're…" Her voice trailed off.

"I'm what?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Friendlier. Nicer. Like you don't want to kill me every thirty seconds."

This was a little dangerous. Nobody had ever figured out that there were two of him in his head, but it seemed like she was on the edge of a realization. What would he do if she took the clues she had and put them together? She couldn't prove anything anyway, but it might be an annoyance. He decided to try distracting her. "I don't want you taking drugs, Ashley. The last thing Vought needs is a drug-addicted CEO."

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "You don't really have a lot to say about it, sir."

Was she trying to distract him now? "You don't want to go there, Ashley. You'll do what I want or else."

"I guess this is the part where I'm supposed to ask, 'Or else what?' Hate to disappoint you, but I'm not asking."

"Why not?"

"I remember Blindspot. The answer's crystal clear."

Homelander felt a little horrified about where the conversation had gone. "I hope you don't think I'm going to hurt you."

Ashley kept her gaze directed straight through the windshield. "Why don't we just get back to the driving lesson?"

"Have I ever hurt you physically? Even put so much as a bruise on you."

"No." She continued not to look at him.

"And I'm not going to. You should know me well enough by now to realize I won't do that to you."

"Why not?"

Good question. He wished he had an answer for her other than he didn't like the idea of her being hurt, in pain. In fact, thinking about her being hurt made him angry. If anyone ever touched her, he'd rip them apart with his hands, the way he'd done with the SWAT team at his cabin the day Becca died. "You're…useful to me," he hedged. "I don't want to have to train a new CEO when you're just what I want."

"Might be worth it to have a backup," she said. "Maureen might be good for that."

Homelander looked over at her and saw a little smile quirking the corners of her mouth. "Oh, please," he said. "Maureen could never fill your shoes."

"She's scared shitless of you. That's a start."

"But you aren't. Not really, anyway. You were, for a long time, but now your heartbeat's steady most of the time when you talk to me and I can't smell your fear."

Ashley looked at him curiously. "I didn't know your nose was that sensitive. Do I wear too much perfume?"

"Oh, no," he told her. "I'm used to normal levels of perfume. You're fine."

"If you need me to roll the window down, that's okay."

"Ashley, I said your perfume is fine. I like it. It gets me hard." Jesus, where had that come from?

She slewed around in the seat to face him, her mouth open. "What?"

"Uh—you heard me." Nothing to do now but brazen it out.

"It's…flattering…that you would say that, no matter that it isn't true. Let's get back to driving. Just take your foot off the brake and put it on the gas lightly and we'll go around the parking lot."

Homelander kept his foot where it was. "What makes you think it isn't true?"

"Everything I know about you?"

"Maybe you don't know as much as you think you do." He was starting to get irritated again.

"Yeah, maybe I don't. Do you want to end the driving lesson and go back to your apartment?"

That's what you'd like me to do, he thought. "No, I think we can do the circuit of the parking lot, if you can avoid pissing your pants every time I step on the gas."

"I'll do my best," she said. Had he heard irritation in her voice? "Please don't step on the gas hard just to teach me a lesson."

"You're the teacher here, Ashley." An idea occurred to him, a funny way to get even with her, but it wasn't time for that yet. Because his idea had improved his mood, he did what she said, controlled his strength with the brake and the gas, and they'd done five circuits of the parking lot before she told him he could stop the car.

"Do you want to try backing the car up? Just put the car into Reverse and make sure you're using the rear and side mirrors when you do it." Homelander backed the car up with no problem. She gave him a genuine smile and said, "That's very good, sir."

Her compliment gave him a lift and he smiled back. "You're a good teacher."

"Okay, you can try parking now. In an empty lot that's not much of a problem. All you need to do is keep the car inside the lines. Parallel parking can wait until much later." After Homelander maneuvered the car for a minute to get it straightened up in the spot, Ashley got out of the car to check its position and gave him a thumbs-up before getting back in. "Like I said, no trouble."

Homelander suppressed his grin. "Good. Now let's try parking."

Her brow furrowed. "What are you talking about? We just did it."

"Afraid you're wrong there, Ashley. I didn't get the teenage experience of driving, and I certainly didn't get the teenage experience of parking."

He saw her realize what he was talking about. "You mean to tell me you want to make out in the back seat of the car?"

"Yup." He couldn't help but grin at her now.

"With me."

"Yup." Ashley's mouth opened, but nothing but inarticulate sounds of confusion emerged as she tried to compose a reply. "Look, you need to stop worrying. We'll just make out for a little while and then you can take the car back to the rental agency with no foot-shaped holes in it."

"Let's not put any dick-shaped holes in it, either," she muttered.

"Why, Ashley, was that a risqué remark? I never would have thought you could make one of those." He was enjoying himself more and more every minute.

"Are you trying to get even with me because I irritated you before? I'm sorry I did that. I didn't mean that I needed drugs to handle you. It just helps me be more relaxed so I don't freeze up when you threaten me."

"Well, I was, but now I do want to make out with you. I've never been in the back seat of a car with a girl, doing normal things. The back of a limousine doesn't count."

"It's bigger," she said. "More comfortable. I've never done it myself, but I'm pretty sure screwing on the floor of a limo is more comfortable than fumbling around in the back of a Kia Optima." Was she joking with him a little? Ashley didn't joke with him.

"You know it's just talk, right? I wouldn't really hurt you."

"Because I'm useful to you."

"No, because I like you. You're the only one I can come to for things like this. Do you think I'd ask anybody else to teach me something I don't know?"

Ashley thought about that for a minute. "I suppose that's right."

"Just imagine Maureen trying to give me a driving lesson."

That made her laugh, and he felt better at the sound. "And imagine you asking her for a make-out lesson."

"That wouldn't happen, Ashley. You're the only one I want to make out with." Did he detect some arousal on her part? This was even better than when he'd just planned to embarrass her. "If you make out with me I'll stop talking about it."

"I doubt it," she said, but she was smiling.

"Come on, Ashley. You already told me you didn't think I could get hard for you. Let me prove you're wrong."

"Making out in the back seat usually didn't end up with going all the way. In fact, the boy usually had blue balls at the end of the evening."

"Killjoy."

"You said that already. But I'll be honest with you—"

"Good. I like that."

She tilted her head and gave him a look that he'd classify as smoldering. "I am a little curious."

"About what?" he asked, just to see what she'd say.

"About you. What you're like in that way."

Don't fuck this up, he told himself. "Only one way to find out." He put the car into Park, turned off the ignition, got out on the other side of the car, opened the rear driver's door, and climbed into the back seat. "Come here, Ashley."

"Did you say please?" But she was almost laughing now.

Homelander was inclined toward indulgence, now that he was sure he'd get what he wanted. "Please come here, Ashley."

She popped the rear passenger door open and slid in next to him. The door closed with a clunk, and they were on a different plane now than when they were driving. Homelander put an arm around her shoulders. "Is this how we start out?"

The smile still hovered on her lips. "Yeah, it can start this way."

He couldn't help but smile himself. "Then what?"

"Let's say you're the quarterback of the high school football team and I'm one of the arty kids. You've asked me out and we've seen a movie, and you've brought us to the local Lovers' Lane, presumably to try scoring because the arty girls are easy, or so you've heard."

"I don't like that story, Ashley. Tell me another one."

"Okay. You're one of the arty kids and I'm the head cheerleader. I've just broken up with my boyfriend, the high school quarterback, and I'm going to make out with you to get even with him."

"I don't like that story either."

"Everybody's a critic. Okay, you're the quarterback and I'm the head cheerleader and this is the first time we've gone parking, even though we've been dating for months."

"Better," he said.

"I could never be the head cheerleader, though. I wasn't popular enough, or cool. I cared too much about everything, and the heart of cool is not giving a shit."

"We can both be arty kids if you want." If he'd been the quarterback, Maeve would have been the cheerleader, and maybe Ashley would have sold pot to the cool kids in between painting, or sculpting, or dancing, or making weird little movies. Who would have been her boyfriend in that universe? Not him, that was for sure.

"Okay. I've been dancing since I was five years old and you like to make big sharp metal sculptures with a blowtorch in your garage. I kid you that they all look like alien war machines and you laugh. We've known each other since we were children, but this is the first time we've gone out. I've had a crush on you for a long time, but you've never noticed me before this."

"Can I help with the story?"

"Sure."

"I had to raise myself because my mother took off and my dad was too busy working to have time for me. Your mother started asking me over because she saw I had no supervision and I became part of the family after a while. Both your parents liked me, and they thought I saw you as a sister, but I never did, not even when we were little. I'd had a crush on you for years but I never thought you'd be interested in me. I asked you out because I saw you dancing and you were so beautiful I couldn't help it—the words just slipped out."

"And I said yes."

"And you said yes." He leaned in and kissed her, capturing those soft lips that he only now realized he'd spent a significant amount of time thinking about. Her mouth opened under his and he slid his tongue inside. She tasted like cherry Coke. Ashley's hand came up and rested on his cheek as her head fell back on his arm. When he broke the kiss, he said, "That's a good start, right?"

Her eyelids fluttered open. "That's definitely how you'd start a make out session."

Homelander found himself oddly reluctant to take things further. Maybe it was the glimpse of a normal reality that she'd given him, with him on a stepladder in his garage behind a welder's mask and an acetylene torch in his hands, Ashley in dance gear and a wicked smile at the door of the garage, calling him in for dinner at her house. The membrane between them and that reality was so thin he could almost see his other self, the gangling teenage boy, the coltish girl, and then it was gone.

He let one of his fingers move over her cheek. "Can we just sit here and talk for a while?"

Ashley nodded. "That's what you'd do if the car was parked outside my house. My parents would still be up because I wasn't home yet. They'd know we were outside in your car—if we'd dated for any length of time they'd recognize your car—and they'd give us some time before I had to go in. When they thought it was time to go in, they'd start flashing the porch light at us."

"What would we talk about?"

"Anything. Everything. School, friends, family, movies, whatever you want."

"Can we just sit here without talking?"

"Sure." He thought she'd sensed the mood that was on him and tried to flow with it. Gently he moved her so her head rested on his shoulder and her arm was around his waist. I didn't have a chance, ever. The thought came to him and then slipped away. "You did a good job with the driving, even if I teased you a little bit."

"Thanks." The admission didn't lift his mood much. "I would have asked you out if I were an arty boy and you were an arty girl."

"I would have said yes," she told him. That did ease the melancholy, and they stayed in the back seat of the Kia Optima, not saying anything, in each other's arms, until the sun came up.