You know, I'm not really sure what to say about this one. The request was Harlock/Zero in a Speed Racer AU for the prompt frost, so that's...a thing. The first few this year aren't very festive, but I'll get to the holiday ones later.

Harlock always won. It wasn't because he was a better driver than me. It was because Tochiro had inhuman skills when it came to building cars. Not to say Harlock wasn't a good driver, because he technically was in his own absurd death-wish sort of way.

But that didn't make him a good person. He was an ass.

At the end of another second place finish, I opted to stay in the car while Harlock presumably trounced his way around the winner's stage. With my forehead pressed into the steering wheel, I basked in the drone of the car's heater. Every window was fogged over with a mist of condensation. Today was too cold for a race, but there had to be a natural disaster before the officials would even consider cancelling. The track wasn't made with the foresight of icy weather, and the slick roads made for a death trap of a race. Over half the competition spun out.

As the pit crew worked on packing up, I dozed off against the steering wheel. The passenger door slamming shut jolted me awake, a blast of icy air coming along with it. As I sorted out who and where I was through shaking my head and blinking, Harlock barked a laugh. "There is a big red imprint across your forehead, you know," he snickered.

I turned to glare my disapproval of him, rubbing at the dent the steering wheel left. "Why are you in my car?"

His eyes wandered as he considered the question, frowning. "Your door was unlocked," he decided with a shrug.

I would have to remember to keep that locked from now on. "If you're going to gloat, I'd prefer you got it over with," I said.

A grin crept onto his features. "I would never. After all, silver looks better on you than gold. And with all those crashes today, I'm just happy you're not dead." His hand came down to smack my shoulder as if congratulating me on surviving. I wasn't sure how happy I felt about it, but I wasn't going to argue with him on it.

He bit the tip of his glove to pull it off, just above his middle finger. As he reached out toward my front window, the glove dropped to his lap. Like any child in a car with frosted windows, he began tracing his finger through the mist to carve out some picture. I didn't quite trust his artistic decisions. "If you draw dicks on my car window, Harlock, I swear to God."

He laughed, always bright and short like some sort of trickster. "I'm not that immature, Zero."

Debatable.

He did draw an arrow pointing to me. The tail led to the words he so carefully wrote backwards so they were readable from the other side. "2nd place! Almost like a winner!"

"Thank you," I said, with all the enthusiasm of an almost winner. In return, I took off my glove and drew an arrow to him with the label of "1st place asshole." He snickered, probably because he knew I was right.

Between our new titles, he traced out a lopsided heart with an arrow sticking through it like the ones couples carved into trees. "1st & 2nd" went in the heart, Harlock smirking as per usual.

"About as much as I love crashing into walls," I muttered.

"Everyone loves crashing into walls," he said. "You ought to let me drive us out to a nice, secluded spot-"

"You're not driving my car," I said before he could finish whatever perverted fantasies were filling his head. I was more concerned with the safety of my car, anyway. Harlock's reckless driving was like putting a 10 year-old at the steering wheel.

He jotted down more beside my arrow so that "Almost like a winner!" was concluded with "Except not fun."

"Well if we can't have sex, the next best thing is getting breakfast," he said. "I want pancakes." Considering the stars hanging in the sky, I guessed he wanted one of those 24-hour breakfast joints. They always seemed a little seedy, but it was hard to complain with breakfast at ten o'clock.

I started the engine back up with a roar and flicked on the defrosters. "I think pancakes are better than sex," I said. Without his seatbelt, Harlock leaned himself across me to write my exact words on my window.

He was grinning when he plopped back into his seat, so proud of himself. "Now everyone will know where your heart lies."

"Thank you," I said again as I pressed the button to roll the window down and wipe away the message.