Hi everyone! Chapter 2 is here. This is the chapter where the feeeeelings start. Sorry this one is quite long!

'Ugh,' said Luigi, spitting on the ground. 'Paparazzi.'

Cruz shook her hood as they accelerated away. 'Second place isn't so bad,' she said to the Italian car.

'You're a much better sport than I was at your age.'

Cruz jumped. She hadn't heard Lightning's engine over the commotion. 'What do you mean?'

His blue eyes flicked towards Jackson's trailer. It looked like the IGNTR racer was getting an earful from his crew chief. 'I was a lot like him at that age.'

Cruz frowned. 'Really? I guess I shouldn't be so surprised. You were always a bit big-chassised.'

Lightning scoffed as he cruised next to her. 'What you said to him the other day really hit him. You know how I know? I was in the exact same position once.' Lightning chuckled to himself. 'Before I found Radiator Springs, I was a "one-man team".'

Cruz laughed. 'I watched your interviews when I was little. You were so different in your rookie year compared to later. I guess friends make all the difference.' The clouds hanging over the sky looked like they were painted by Bob Rust. 'I didn't have many friends until I met you. But I guess I went the other way with confidence.'

'Yeah.' He looked sheepish. 'Never doubt yourself, all right?'

They bumped tires as they pulled into the stadium café to get gas. 'When I was a kid watching your interviews on the TV I remember two Miatas appeared and flashed their headlights at you. My mom banned me from watching races after that. I had to sneak out to watch them.'

Lightning choked on his fuel. 'I remember that. Don't tell Sally that I do.'

Luigi had disappeared off somewhere with his 'friend' Guido, so it was just them at the café, until Mater frantically waved while trying to wend his way through the crowd. 'McQueen. Miss Ramirez,' said the tow truck, accidentally slapping a station wagon in the windshield with his hook. The station wagon gave him a dirty look and honked his horn.

'Please, Cruz is fine.'

'All right, Miss Cruz. Sorry I'm late. Got lost on the way back from the bathroom. You know, I drove past Jackson's trailer. Dadgum. He was getting' a talkin'-to. Dunno why though.'

Cruz edged forward like an impatient car at the lights. 'What was his crew chief saying?'

Somethin' about being obsessed with you, Miss Cruz. Not concentratin' on winning, just on beating you. Wait, how'd you know it was his crew chief talkin' to him?'

'Looks you've got fans too, Cruz,' said Lightning.

She needed some coolant because it was getting way too hot in the café. 'We don't even like each other. He pushed me into a wall.'

'I'm not telling you to jump his fenders.'

Cruz was saved from her engine overheating when the Subaru who had interviewed her earlier rolled up to their table. 'Hey. Sorry if my question about Danny made you uncomfortable,' she said. 'They kind of pressure me to ask questions like that.' Her brown eyes darted around. 'I'm Pearl Brakeless. Reluctant journalist.'

Cruz chuckled. 'You're forgiven. You really ought to do an interview with Storm.'

'Guy ran off to his trailer as soon as the race was over.' Pearl waved her wheel at a black Toyota Corolla. 'That's my boyfriend. He works for IGNTR.'

The Toyota barged his way through the traffic to join them. 'Name's Moo.'

Pearl kept glancing around.

'Are you looking for someone?' asked Cruz.

'I ran three amber lights on the way here. Is that a crime here in the States? Do you see any cops?'

'You said Moo works at IGNTR?'

'Yep,' said Moo.

'Do you deal with Storm a lot?'

'I shouldn't say this about him, but I'm going to say it anyway. I can't stand Storm.' The black car had a pleasant Malaysian accent. 'Everything is about him. He kicks the other cars off the simulator so he can train more.'

'What a jerk,' said Cruz. 'Mr. McQueen gets me to train on a dirt track. No need to kick anyone off those.'

'I love some off-road driving,' said Pearl.

'Mater here says McQueen is obsessed with me.'

Mater had gotten distracted by a Volkswagen beetle flying around but spun around at the sound of his name. He hit the same station wagon with his hook, earning another longer honk.

'Obsessed with beating you,' said Moo.

Cruz didn't know why her engine dipped at that. 'He's a strong rival.'

'I give it a couple of years before he retires. He wants to win, not come second.'

Cruz found herself wondering what she'd do if Jackson did retire. Swervez and Clutchslip were good competition, but she didn't care a great deal if those two beat her. Of course, she wanted a Piston Cup to decorate her shelf, but more than that, she wanted to be happy. And seeing her friends happy made her bubble with joy. But with Storm, it was personal. She wanted his competition. Winning against him made her feel good.

Jackson Storm didn't know what was happening to him. His wiring was all so tight, too tight… how could he loosen it? His breathing came so fast that it hurt his undercarriage. Cruz was right. He should have been driving home right now because he didn't belong there. They were already calling the race cars to get ready for the qualifier. Where did the time go?

What was wrong with him?

If you're not going to bring your A game, you should pack up and drive home. His bolts tightened at Ray's words. Jackson hadn't even bothered to respond to Ray during his rant, which had only angered the pickup more.

Fine. If this is what Ray wanted, he'd go home. Cars zoomed past, shouting at each other across the field. He swerved without indicating like a BMW, almost colliding with a flash of yellow.

'Hey, watch it.' Then a few seconds later, 'Are you all right?' Cruz seemed far away. 'Storm?' He was vaguely aware of the former trainer following him, but all he wanted was to get away. He was going to make a fool of himself again. It occurred to him that this was exactly how he'd made Lightning feel, and it made him a little sick.

'Jackson. What's wrong?'

He reversed to face her. 'You were right, Costume Girl. I don't belong here. I'm going home so you and Danny can have your little party on the track. Enjoy.'

'Jackson…' Her eyes turned a golden shade in the Los Angeles sun. 'I should never have said that.'

'No. You were right. I never wanted to be a racer anyway. I don't care for racing. Only winning.'

Her eyes went wide. His breathing had slowed a little now. 'You're good competition, Jackson. It wouldn't be the same without you. Please don't quit. Come race us, and we'll celebrate together after.'

'So that you can rub your victory in my face? Forget it, Costume Girl.' Oh, he'd make her regret condescending to him like that.

Jackson ended up placing second in the qualifying, which did nothing to improve his foul mood. But talking to Cruz had ended the crushing feeling in his engine. He sat alone in his trailer watching a film while the other cars celebrated, or whatever it was they did after qualifying. His mind kept wandering back to the gold car. She didn't look like the other race cars, and she always stood out on the track. His first instinct upon seeing her had been to laugh at how out of place she looked among the modern race cars. He'd stopped laughing when she overtook him at the last second and snatched the victory that was meant to be his. Ray hadn't said much – he'd lost one or two races to other next-gens the previous year, and no car could win every race. But when it had happened ten more times, Ray had started taking issue. Second best. If this didn't improve, he would end up washed-up like that television host, Chick Hicks.

The next race rolled round. He took his place behind Cruz, always behind Cruz. At least her bumper was a better view than Danny's. He scolded himself for thinking that.

'How are you feeling today, Jackson?' asked Cruz.

He should have never shown his weakness. The audacity to bring it up in public like that, pretending to care. 'I'm. Fine.' He revved his engine. And just like that, he wanted to win.

Lap 45. He was still behind Danny and Cruz, but Danny started skidding out. He remembered the simulator from last week and swerved to the side, narrowly missing Danny. Cruz slowed too, concerned for her friend.

That was her weakness. Jackson breezed past her. He could hear her on the mic to Lightning, telling him how worried she was over precious Danny. It hadn't looked bad. He was sure Danny would be fine.

Cruz didn't get back on her game until the last two laps. She tried to perform her classic 'overtake him at the last second', but he was having none of that.

No. Ignore her. Who cared what Cruz Ramirez was doing? He certainly didn't. He focused only on keeping to his line. Last lap. Concentrate. Ignore the yellow car in his vision.

He realized he had crossed the finish line and had driven another quarter of the lap. He turned and drove back to where the interviewers and photographers were already crowding.

'How does it feel to finally end your losing streak, Mr. Storm?' asked a silver Hyundai who he recognized as a famous reporter named Blade.

It took a few seconds for the realization to set in. He collected himself and remembered who he was supposed to be in the public eye. 'It comes naturally to me. Cruz gave me some good competition, but…' Cruz was driving around in circles with a stricken expression on her windshield. She stopped to ask an ambulance what happened to Danny, but the ambulance barged past her.

'Excuse me,' said Jackson to Blade as he moved past. 'Cruz,' he called. The yellow car turned to look at him. His victory felt hollow now. 'Is Danny okay?'

She looked at him. 'I'm surprised you care.' She turned away and drove off.

'Cruz–'

Cruz rolled into the hospital room. Danny lay on four jacks. His green-grey eyes opened when he saw Cruz. 'How'd you get in here?'

'Told them I was your cousin,' she said. 'How are you feeling?'

'I'm great, man. They gave me this oil that made me feel like I was a plane.'

Cruz chuckled. 'Are you going to be okay?'

'Yeah, man. Doctor said I won't be able to race for two weeks though.' Cruz had never seen the purple car let anything get him down for more than a few minutes. 'You won for me, right?'

Cruz frowned. 'Storm won.'

'No big deal. You'll win next week. Make Storm feel like he's got it in the bag then snatch it away from him.'

Honestly, all Cruz cared about was that Danny was safe. The press had tried to ask her how she felt about losing to Storm today, but she had no desire to answer trivial questions like that when she didn't know if her friend was all right.

'All right, you two,' said a nurse who was rolling into the room. 'Visiting hours are over. He'll probably be discharged tomorrow.'

Cruz nodded and waved her tire goodbye. Now that she had seen Danny in good repair, her conversation with Jackson came back to her. I'm surprised you care. Maybe she shouldn't have said that. But she'd thought he was mocking her. Now she wasn't sure. The IGNTR car had been behaving outright odd lately. Or rather, he was acting normal, but for him it was odd. Lightning would say he didn't deserve her sympathy, but she'd been relieved when he appeared at the track today. Maybe she'd been too harsh. It was hard to know with Jackson.

The city lights glowed a comforting neon, beckoning her to enter the casinos and late-night shops. It occurred to her for the first time that she had the money for it now. But she ignored the bright colors – she wanted to use that money to travel in the off-season. There was so much she wanted to see, and for the first time everything she wanted seemed to be in reach. She finally got to dream big.

Lightning. That's who she should ask for advice. But he'd have an axis-jerk reaction to anything regarding the car who had ended his career. It wouldn't be fair to blame him for that.

Mater. He'd be the only one who wouldn't work out that she was talking about Jackson.

Lights were still on in Mater's motel garage, which was the largest any of their entourage had taken. Cruz knocked on the door with her tire.

A crashing sound came from within. 'Wait a minute. Ow! Come in.' The door opened. 'Miss Cruz. Whatcha doing here? At this time? What time is it?'

'I need your advice.'

'Aw, well you always know I'm here to give advice. I give great advice.' The rusty truck reversed into the wall. 'Shoot.'

'Let's say you had a friend… well not a friend exactly. This car was a total jerk, then he started acting nice. What would you think?'

Mater got lost in thought for a moment. 'Well, I guess I'd think he was pretendin'.'

'What if you thought this car was only acting this way because he'd had a rough time?'

'Wait a minute. You're not talking about Mr. Storm, are you?'

Cruz jolted. 'No! No. Why would you think that?'

'Ooooh. Ramirez is in love with Mr. Storm,' he sang.

'Who said anything about being in love? I didn't mention it.'

'Why you actin' so concerned about him now, hmm?' Mater laughed to himself as he reversed into the wall again. 'Shoot. These motel garages are too small.'

'Not a word to Lightning about this conversation, Mater.'

'Secrets are always safe with Mater. I used to be a spy, you know. Anyway, Miss Cruz, if someone was really confusing me… you know what I'd do?'

Cruz rolled forward like she was at an intersection with a bad view. 'What?'

'I'd go ask them what they meant.'

She ruminated on Mater's words as she retreated into her own garage. He might not be the smartest tow truck out there, but sometimes the simplest solutions were the best ones. I'll go see Storm tomorrow.

Late night resolutions never seem so great in the daylight. Her tires shook and she scolded herself for being so shaky. He couldn't say anything worse than what he'd said the first time she raced against him. You don't belong here.

Maybe she'd go round and make him apologize. If he didn't, at least she'd know that her worry was misplaced and that he didn't deserve it.

It wasn't hard to find the motel Jackson and his crew were staying at. Chase Racelott, who was staying at the same one as Cruz, had pointed her in the direction. Seeing the black hauler poking out from the garage made her so nervous that her check engine light came on. Nope, she told herself. No backing out.

'Gale, right?' she asked the huge truck. Gale's demeanor intimated her much more than Mack's. It was easy to forget Mack's size when he was so gentle, but Gale made her shrink back.

Her worries were instantly dismissed when the truck spoke in an even tone. 'That's me. You're Cruz Ramirez. Big fan.' She lowered her voice. 'Shouldn't have said that.'

'Where's Jackson?'

'Where's Jackson?'

'Oh. I think he's in his garage. Jackson! Friend of yours wants to speak to you.'

Cruz cringed at the loudness of Gale's voice. 'Actually I–'

'Friend?' The sleek black car drove out of his garage. 'Cruz?'

'Jackson. I, uh… I wanted to check up on you.'

'I'm fine.' The door to his garage started closing.

'Wait.' She zoomed towards him and he paused the door. 'I'm sorry I snapped at you yesterday.'

Jackson laughed.

Of course he laughed. At least it confirmed her suspicions. That gasshole didn't care for anyone but himself.

'Can I just ask you one thing, Storm?'

'Of course, Ramirez. Anything for my biggest fan.'

'Did you actually care when you asked if Danny was okay?'

He paused and in a voice lower than his engine, he said, 'Yes. I did.'

People always told Cruz that she was too optimistic, but she didn't think the shadow passing over his steel grey eyes could be faked. 'Are you feeling better?' she asked softly.

His eyes darted towards Gale, but the hauler had her headphones on. 'Yeah,' he said. 'I don't know what came over me. Not a word to anyone, Costume Girl.'

She chuckled at the nickname. 'Rumor has it that our roles have been reversed. Who's my biggest fan now?' She grinned.

Jackson gave her a blank look.

'It's the talk of the track, Jackson.'

He pulled a lever and the door closed. She sighed. At least she'd made some progress. Progress, she asked herself. Progress towards what?

Two victories in a row. He wasn't a washed-up race car like Chick Hicks, after all.

'Good work today, Jackson. Keep this up,' said Ray from atop his podium.

Cruz was chatting with her crew team. Jackson had said she'd looked good the first time he saw her racing. He hadn't meant it as a compliment, but he hadn't been wrong. She looked even better in her Dinoco getup. It was difficult not to look her way whenever she smiled.

'Jackson?' asked his crew chief.

'Just a minute,' he said, making his way to the Dinoco team. Lightning, who had come down from his podium, drove between him and Cruz. 'Great driving today, Ramirez.'

Lightning narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth, but Cruz spoke up first. 'Thanks, Jackson.' She drove around Lightning like he was an annoyingly placed tree in a parking lot. 'Good driving yourself. Don't get complacent though.' She winked and reached out a tire.

He looked at the tire, unsure of how he was supposed to respond.

Cruz retracted it. 'Right. See you next week, Stormy Boy.' She and her entourage moved out.

He stayed in place. Stormy Boy? He should be focusing on next week, not on Dinoco's racer. He sighed as he watched the lot of them driving away. Costume Girl and all her friends. He wished he knew what that was like.

The next week ended his lucky streak. Cruz held a lead for most of the race, and he couldn't catch up. Maybe he needed a new pit crew. Cruz's were something else. Couldn't IGNTR afford someone better?

This was also the week Danny came back, but he mustn't have been in top shape, because he came in near the back of the pack. The purple car should have stayed in hospital rather than making a fool of himself.

'Wow, Jackson.' He jumped, his suspension bouncing. The yellow car smiled at him. 'You really kept me on my wheels.'

He found himself staring at her lopsided smile for a moment. How was she always so bright, like a sunflower?

'Some of my friends are coming to celebrate Danny being back. You in?'

'What?' He shook himself. 'Yeah. I'd like that. Where?'

'Old Brooklyn bar called Teddy's Towbar and Grille. I better see my favorite Stormy Boy.' She revved her engine and sped off, leaving tire marks on the track.

No one had invited him out since… Since he was a kid. He didn't care a great deal for the loudness or the crowds, but if Cruz was going to be there… He shook himself again. Why wouldn't she invite him out? He was the only real competition she had.

Cruz hadn't been kidding about the bar being old. It made Lightning McQueen look positively modern. He rolled in like it was his mechanic's shop, although his oil felt like it was about to boil.

'Storm!' called Cruz.

Chase Racelott scowled. 'You invited him?'

'I didn't want him to feel left out.' Cruz's face fell. No wonder old McQueen took pity on her. Those eyes could convince anyone of anything.

Danny sipped his alcoholic fuel. 'If she vouches for him, he can stay.'

'It's your celebration, I guess,' said Chase, still glaring.

'You want a drink, Storm?' asked Cruz.

Actually, a drink might make him feel less like a slow car cruising in the left lane. Their eyes followed him to the bar. 'What's the strongest thing you've got?' he asked the bartender.

'You need ID before I can give you anything.'

He backed away. 'I'm surprised you don't recognize me.'

'You're one of those next-gen racers. All look the same to me,' said the old Cadillac. 'Strongest we've got is the Clutch Burner. Three shots of that and you'll be driving like Lightning McQueen when his friend Fillmore came to visit. I'm not sure that fuel was unleaded, if you get my drift.'

'You know McQueen?'

'Of course I do. Everyone knows McQueen.'

Jackson pretended his ego was as pristine as his paintjob as he reversed towards Cruz. 'Costume Girl,' he whispered. 'I'm only 20.'

'What?' She laughed. 'Turned 21 two months ago. I'll go.' She rolled up to the bar. 'Give me a shot of Clutch Burner. Two, actually.'

The other race cars stared as he downed one shot, then two, then three in quick succession, but had the good sense not to say anything. He'd always thought of himself as the leader of the next-gens. He was the first, and he was the best. The other next-gens wouldn't have had their big breaks if it weren't for him paving the way for a new type of car to dominate the Piston Cup.

Twenty minutes later, the shots were starting to make their way to his engine. His perfect vision blurred a little. He focused on Cruz. Because she was the brightest car, and therefore the most logical to focus on. Obviously.

'Storm, we're hitting up a club,' said Danny. 'You coming?'

'What? Oh yeah. I'm coming.'

'I hope I don't get a DUI,' Danny muttered.

'IDs, please,' said the doorjeep. The other cars rolled in, leaving only Jackson outside.

'I'll pay you $300 to let me in,' he said.

'No.'

'$500.'

The Jeep looked around to make sure no one was listening. 'Okay.'

The club was decorated in Jackson's colors, black and blue, and the techno music shook his tires. He watched the DJ for a few moments, a green Lamborghini who looked like she'd had too much 'organic' fuel. Other cars danced to the bass, flashing their headlights and yelling.

A car bumped him from the side. He turned to snap at them but saw a smiling yellow car. 'I got you a drink,' she yelled over the din.

'Wow. Thanks, Costume Girl.'

The drinks reached their full potency a few minutes later. Things were spinning. He misjudged his tolerance. His nonexistent tolerance.

'You okay, Stormy Boy? You want to get some fresh air?'

'I'm fine.' The flash from someone's headlights lit up her eyes. Chrysler, those were pretty eyes. He snapped his thoughts back to… he didn't know what, actually. 'Cruz,' he said, his speech a little sluggish like a bad automatic gearbox.

'What was that? I can't hear you.'

'You look good, Costume Girl.' He laughed. 'You look great.'

'I really can't hear you, Storm. Let's go for a drive outside?' she shouted loud enough that other cars turned to look at her.

He was used to seeing her bumper while they raced and he'd always admired it, but he hadn't gotten the chance to concentrate on it like this before. He laughed again, stopping when he realized how quiet it was outside.

'What were you saying?' Cruz was driving straight. She must have been much more sober.

'Nothing. Wow, I've never seen the city lights like this.' They pulled up to the edge of a bridge that looked over the city.

'Yeah. Isn't it beautiful?'

'Thanks for inviting me out tonight, Cruz. It means a lot to me.' He rolled closer to the Dinoco car.

'I thought you could use a friend.'

'A friend?'

'Yeah, Jackson. A friend.' She extended her tire and this time he bumped it. He waited for her to whoop and cheer like she usually did after she bumped tires with Danny, but she only smiled.

He was surprised to feel the warmth of tears threatening his windshield. 'You have no idea how much that means to me, Cruz.'

'Not calling me Costume Girl anymore?' She bumped against his side. 'Let's go back before the others wonder where we are.'

Notes:

Drunk Jackson = best Jackson. Writing asshole characters is SO FUN