City Slicker

~Cars ©PIXAR~

~Chicagoan streets 0330 Hours~

The fog was thick, but Finn managed to maneuver through it easily, humming the same French tune from earlier that night. The buildings around him were practically invisible behind the wall of chilled vapor, and less than a block away he could hear the lapping of water over by the docks. A foghorn bellowed in the distance.

Fog lights activated, the spy car observed his surroundings—or what he could see of them. His humming echoed forlornly through the street, bouncing back in a rather portentous fashion. The night sky was only partially hidden above him, the stars wholly obscured by smog and other chemicals in the atmosphere. Despite it all, it smelled like imminent rainfall.

Finn finally reached the alley he was seeking, and the beeping of his internal computer silenced at the same time his humming did. A figure could be made out in the shadows of the lane.

The Aston Martin broke the tense silence with an easygoing smile. "Well, it's been a while since we met. How have you been, old friend?" The stranger didn't answer or react to having even heard him. "Hm...Still refusing to speak, I see," Finn contemplated. "Well, I only wished to thank you for looking out for my partner and the private eye. You didn't have to."

The figure shifted their tires, as if embarrassed. Finn smirked. "You know, there's no need for you to hide any longer."

The stranger froze again, stonily silent.

Finn sighed. "You know that it's true. Yet you continue to act otherwise." The distinguishably smaller car prepared to back out of the opposite side of the alley, when the Aston Martin's next words stopped him. "You could go home. I know that you are well aware of that more than anything else. There may not be anyone there waiting for you, but it'll be better than hiding in shadows for the remainder of your life."

The figure shuffled his tires again, uncertain. He still didn't speak.

The spy car heaved a sigh. "You always try to make things difficult, don't you?"

A chuckle. The mystery car's cab shook lightly, containing the laughter. Finn blinked momentarily, before allowing a smile, and finally laughing along with the stranger. A moment later, he exhaled heavily again.

"So this is it, old friend? You intend to go about your life in shadows still, never speaking nor showing yourself?" The smaller car remained stony again, and Finn slowly shook his front end, eyes downcast. "Well have it your way."

The Aston Martin prepared to turn, and drive back to his comfortable hotel room, but he paused, glancing back. "I bid you adieu, old friend….I hope that we meet again. And you owe me nothing for the rescue from Morocco."

~Mater's Downtown Office, 0930 Hours~

"Hello, Mater?"

Lieutenant Lightning McQueen peeked out of the creaking lift, trained eyes scanning over the hallway. It seemed to quiet….usually, the police car would hear the tow truck's loud mutterings, the voice of a new client, or the radio turned to the oldies station when Mater thought he wouldn't drop by. And currently, not a single one of those sounds filled the hall.

The cruiser cautiously crept out of the elevator, its over-all unsteadiness no longer worrying him. There were no signs of a struggle, he noted, and everything was still in the same place as before, from the pristine, faded and threadbare rugs, to the dried and withered plants along the window sills.

He finally reached the double doors that led into his friend's office. Resisting the urge to swallow, Lightning pushed them open. He was met with the tow truck at his desk, as per redundancy, looking over photos, files and his daily newspaper. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hey, bud," Mater greeted without looking up, appearing rather oblivious to his best friend's past fear.

The lieutenant grinned at the private eye's familiar and calm salutation, rolling further into the room. "Hi, Mater. Um, I was wonderin', I saw you leaving the building yesterday, and I thought—"an unfamiliar, but noticeably female voice interrupted him from behind.

"Ah, Mater, I meant to ask—oh! Pardon me."

Lightning swiftly reversed and turned to see a pretty and curvy Jaguar looking back at him with equally stunned eyes. She paused in the doorway, now hesitant. "Um, Mater," she began in a soft British accent. "Who is this?"

The tow truck still hadn't even looked up. "McQueen, Miss Shiftwell. Miss Shiftwell, McQueen," he introduced absently.

The Jaguar, or Miss Shiftwell apparently, furrowed her brow, her confusion only growing further. But Lightning had begun to grow a sly grin across his bumper, not even bothering to properly announce himself and his appellation correctly. He was solely focused on the fact that Mater was moderately docile for once, and had a woman (and a very beautiful one at that), with him. In his home.

"Don't even think 'bout it, Lightnin'," Mater interrupted, before the lieutenant could voice his thought, eyes never leaving his newspapers. "She's…a client. Nutin' more."

The cruiser rolled his eyes, but backed down. "Alright, alright. But you do know that Sally's never going to let you live this down."

"Who says she gunna find out?"

Holley watched in mild amusement at the friends' exchange, before returning to the task at hand. "Mater?" she repeated after a moment, drawing the tow truck from his imminent quarrel. "We have to go meet Finn, remember? There was something that he needed us to attend to."

"Oh, yeah," the private eye realized, rising on his axles. He drove around his desk and turned to the cruiser. "Sorry, bud. Duty calls."

"Wait, Mater!" Lightning called after a moment, the tow truck stopping in the doorway. "What have you gotten yourself into now?" the police car continued solicitously.

Mater shrugged. "Ain't nutin' fer ya ta' worry 'bout. Miss Shiftwell 'n Ah 'ave got it under control."

"Yeah, but Mater—"

"We've gotta go, McQueen," Mater reminded, shifting a tire. "Ah'll um…gitta hold a' ya once this is over." The tow truck quickly drove out of the room with a final glance to his best friend, and Holley paused uncertainly before following after him.

As the doors closed behind them, Lightning sighed, lowering on his shocks. His gaze flickered over to the private eye's desk, where a picture frame lay atop the mountain of newspapers, a familiar Chevrolet smiling back at him.

A heave of air escaped him, and he looked heavenward. "What're we going to do with him, Doreen?"

~Across from the Radiator Valve Resort, downtown Chicago, 1000 Hours~

"A stakeout. That was the big emergency Finn called us for," Mater grumbled, scuffing a tire into the carpet. "An' here Ah was expectin' something excitin'."

Holley sighed, but failed to keep the amused smile off of her bumper at the private eye's childish pout. "It can be a bit tiresome, but it is required for a mission such as this."

Mater groaned. "But why're we's in the buildin' 'cross from the hotel Axlerod 'n Tex are gunna git ta'?"

Her patience thinning slightly, the Jaguar said, "Because, that is the purpose of our job. We aren't supposed to be seen—technically, we don't even exist. This was the best vantage point available. Now please, watch the entrance."

The private eye sent her what could've almost passed for a dirty look, only for the fire in his eyes to die a few seconds later and he decided to sulk. He turned to look out of the long, tinted windows in front of them a moment later, resigned.

Holley had opened her holo-screen by then, pouring over pages and files of information, surveillance videos of the hotel across the street, and both criminal and subject profiles. She knew that it was more technologically advanced than Mater had ever seen, but the tow truck pointedly avoided her gaze. The spy's mind eventually began to wander (but she wasn't about to admit that the tow truck had been right in saying stakeouts were the least exciting thing she'd experienced in quite some time), focusing instead on the picture stored in her memory banks. Holley would've retrieved it if it wouldn't attract the private eye's unwanted attention. So she resorted to using her own, sharp recollection.

She remembered that something had been behind the Chevrolet—as she wouldn't be able to search her background without pulling up the image—a logo perhaps. But without the photo, her musing would prove useless. Although she did know one thing—whoever was in the photo was close to Mater. Perhaps even that handsome lieutenant knew…..

"Not that it is any of my business, Mater, but why were you so austere towards Lieutenant Lightning McQueen?"

The tow truck blinked once, shifting his bewildered gaze towards the Jaguar. "How'd ya' git his full name?" he questioned, instead of answering.

"I searched his profile," Holley admitted.

"'course," Mater grumbled, looking back out the window.

"You didn't answer my question," the Jaguar stated matter-of-factly. Her temporary partner exhaled deeply, eyes falling to his hood.

"McQueen 'n Ah 'ave known each other fer years," Mater finally said, his fedora tipping lightly over his windshield, observing the faint sunlight that reflected off of his vintage paint. "He's mah best friend."

Holley nodded softly, "I saw that you two went to the police academy together….but only he graduated." She sent the private eye a meaningful glance. His brow furrowed.

"Ah know whatcha' thinkin'. An' no, Ah wasn't kicked out…Ah left."

The Jaguar startled, "You l-left? But you could've become Captain, or even the Deputy Chief of Police with your smarts! I mean, why would you ever…." Holley gradually trailed off as she noticed Mater's narrowed gaze, directed out the window again, as if he was trying to burn a hole through the glass. There was a definite pain underlying the anger radiating off of him. "Why…did you leave?" she asked after a moment, calmer.

Mater remained silent for a few tense seconds more, before he sighed heavily again, cab sagging. "Sometimes…there are…complications, and circumstances tha' we can't 'void or stop….and we jist hafta' keep movin' forward. Even if it means leavin' some things behind."

And then there was silence.

Holley had the nagging feeling that all of this had to do with the picture of the Chevrolet, but she knew that bringing it out now would be disastrous. There was no way she could ever ask Mater about it…there was the chance that he could quit the mission, as he had been given the chance before, and they would lose the best private investigator in the state, and the one that knew of every seedy tavern and filthy corner that criminals hid themselves… and… he was starting to grow on her.

So there was nothing more to do than remain quiet.

~ Chicago International Airport, 1030 Hours~

"My my, lovely day in the Windy City, ain't it, Sir Axlerod?"

The Range Rover sent his rival an appraising glance before smiling. "Indeed, Mr. Tex," he agreed proudly, rolling down the ramp from the large luxury airplane. He met the Cadillac at ground level. "What time did you arrive though?"

Tex Dinoco grinned brightly beneath his horn hood ornament. "Arrived at nine 'n the mornin', Miles. Couldn't wait to leave and get this presentation over with."

"My thoughts exactly," Sir Axlerod affirmed, driving forward. The Texan followed, their entourage of bodyguards lingering around them.

"So you've given up the ridiculous folly of havin' some sorta' "Grand Prix" to show off yer fuel, haven't ya?" Tex inquired curiously at the Range Rover's side. He didn't notice Miles grounding his teeth before answering.

"Yes. This "folly" of mine has been long put to bed. I only wish to lean the presentation in my favor by honest means."

The Cadillac nodded approvingly. "Good ta' here, son. Honesty's the best policy, after all." As the elder car chuckled at his quip, Sir Axlerod rolled his eyes irately. He very nearly sighed in relief when they entered the large main building where they would meet the rest of their escorts. Miles turned towards their current bodyguards.

"I believe that will be all, chaps. We can take it from here."

The Range Rover's guards complied immediately, but those of Tex Dinoco were more hesitant. With a meaningful glance from Sir Axlerod, Tex nodded as well. "It's fine. Go 'bout yer business 'till we meet at the hotel." The bulky bodyguards nodded, still uncertain, before driving away. Miles followed them with his clear eyes for a few seconds before driving further into the structure, the elder car at his side having continued speaking.

"—honestly, as if I can't take care of myself! I may be old, but I'm not 'bout to be recalled just yet! It's not as if I'll be assassinated in the next five minutes, especially after the War ended."

Miles couldn't keep the haughty grin was his features anymore. "Quite right, Mr. Dinoco," he assured, and in the darkness of the great room, cars of all models began to surround them, stances menacing. "Kidnapping is much more our style."

~Lobby of the Radiator Valve Resort, 1100 Hours~

The lieutenant noted that his menacing front was normally quite the opposite.

He could instill fear in criminals like no other, of course—everyone knew of the various exploits of Lieutenant Lightning McQueen, all the drug lords he'd revealed, the crimes he'd busted, and the multitudes of villains he'd caught that had led to him receiving his current position. But apparently, this was limited to hotel concierges, who had never heard of him, and thus had no respect for him. Lightning was forced to pull out his badge for the snippy Kurtis Bonneville, before rolling further into the resort. On the other side of the room, was his target. The silvery Aston Martin.

"Ksst…ciao, McQueen!"

The lieutenant jumped, and hid behind a group of tourists when the sound caught the British car's attention. Cursing lightly under his breath, he activated his radio. "Damn, Formula One. What do what, Francesco?" Lightning demanded crossly, peering around the crowd to make sure the Aston Martin hadn't left.

The Italian car gasped, as if the comment had been a physical blow. "Ksst…Why, can't a car call his amico?"

Lightning's brow furrowed, gaze remaining on the British car across from him. "I wouldn't really call us friends, Sergeant."

Francesco huffed on the other line. "Ksst…Do not-a bring rank to this, McQueen. Sheriff has been-a pestering me about your whereabouts for the past-a two days. If you don't-a report to the station tomorrow, he's going to search for you. And when he does find you, it will-a not be pretty."

"I need to find Mater, Francesco. I don't know what he's gotten himself into this time, but it's far worse than anything else he's mixed himself up in. I think it has something to do with the Big D case."

The Formula One laughed. "Ksst…you always worry for that-a incompetent tow truck. Let him fend for himself, for once."

Lightning felt himself become hot under the hood in response to his lower-ranking colleague's words, but managed to reel in the emotion at the last minute, speaking through gritted teeth. "He may not be much, Francesco, but he's my best friend. And I won't have you bad-mouthing him."

"Ksst…fine, fine. But don't say that I didn't warn-a you," Francesco chanted in a sing-song tone of voice, before signing off. The lieutenant was met with the sound of static, and he let out a long sigh. The Italian car had arrived from Ellis Island nearly three years ago, and had neatly instated himself in the Chicago Police Department. He'd been fighting for position of lieutenant for practically a year, and Lightning had long seen the Formula One as his rival.

Shaking his front end, the lieutenant returned to the task at hand. The Aston Martin was still there, so he rolled out from behind the large group and headed in the British car's direction. When he was only a few feet behind him, the slim car spoke condescendingly. "Well, it's about time you confronted me, Lieutenant."

Lightning blinked, rolled back in surprise. Stealth had never been his forte…

"So, what do you want?" the Aston Martin continued, turning to look at the cruiser with an eyelid raised.

"Well," the lieutenant hedged, before straightening himself. "I want to know what Mater has got to do with this whole thing. Firstly, he nearly always tells me about his cases, and I do my best to help in any way I can." A complete lie and Lightning knew it. The British car apparently did as well.

"We both know how untrue that it. This Tow Mater is a rather reserved fellow, and is not one to try and attract attention to himself. He hardly tells you of any of his cases, and you are resorted to going to his various sources on news about his location and situation." The elder car regarded him levelly. "Now, Lieutenant McQueen, why did you really come to find me?"

The cruiser sputtered for a moment, before sighing. "Okay. First off, who are you? How and why did you come into contact with Mater?" The Aston Martin exhaled, looking around the lobby.

"Well I suppose you deserve the right to know…" he drew himself up. "My name is Finn McMissile, and I work for a branch of the MI6 known as C.H.R.O.M.E. My partner, Miss Shiftwell, who I believe you've met, went missing little over three weeks ago while on recon, and I feared the worst. An old friend of mine and I found out about Tow Mater in the newspaper ironically, and from word of mouth. With his help, I was able to locate my partner."

"But then why is he still here?" Lightning demanded.

Finn sighed. "My apologies, but I don't have clearance to tell you. We require Mater's help though, and I cannot promise that he will come out unscathed."

"But what's the purpose of the mission?"

The Aston Martin paused. "I will say only this—the safety of the country and possibly even the world is at stake and the lives of many if everything goes according to the villains' plans. We will do our very best to stop it, but I suggest that you and your men stay out of our way."

"What?" the cruiser choked. "You tell me all that and then just assume that I'll sit quietly by as the safety of the people is put at stake?"

"Yes."

Lightning blinked again. "Yes? Well no dice, there's no way—" a familiar voice over the Aston Martin's radio silenced him.

"F-Finn! They've taken them—Sir Axlerod and Tex Dinoco have been kidnapped!"

A/N: Wow...honestly, I didn't think I'd update this quickly... :T

Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this! I made a small reference to WWII from Tex, seeing as how this story is probably/technically based in the late forties. And just who is the myster car?

And yes, I was watching Cars 2 again, when I realized "Hey...I haven't put Francesco in yet!" So ta-da! I managed to squeeze him in :D

Reviews are love :)