AN: Another short one, but just trying to get back in to the swing of writing. I have to go to bed, if there's any glaring mistakes I'll have to edit later.


Lightning sat on the porch beside him, mentally kicking himself for not taking the opportunity of for once sitting alone with Doc to get a chance to talk to him. Really talk to him.

He chewed on the inside of his cheek and worked up the courage to say something. Any conversation had directly revolved around this upcoming shine run, but that's not what Lightning was there for. He was there to talk to the one person he was suddenly most afraid to...

How did you talk to someone you knew so well, but had no idea who you were? How did you talk to a twenty-something version of the mentor you met when you had only in your twenties?

The very idea of time travel gave him a headache, and here he was, dabbling in it...

The silence that stretched became too much, and glancing up, Lightning commented on the first thing that caught his eye.

"Where did you get those?"

The silver mirrored aviators, that seemed to be as iconic to the image of Jesse Hudson as the navy blue racing jacket, reflected brightly as he glanced up to acknowledge Lightning's question.

"Get what?"

"The glasses." He gestured to the pair hiding the kid's eyes.

They'd been off limits, at least in an unspoken sense when Doc had been his crew chief. Just like the Hornet, or the jacket, they weren't to be touched.

Jesse looked away again, and he held back a groan at the undeniable sense of those walls going back up. How was he ever supposed to talk to him if he couldn't find a safe topic?

They were just sunglasses, right? Not nearly as expensive as a modified Hudson Hornet, or as personal as a homemade racing jacket. How could a kid who had left his life behind him in 1955, with the clothes on his back and a car, feel the need to keep something as simple as a pair of sunglasses?

Before his little adventure back in time, Lightning had poured over every article, magazine, newspaper clipping, interview and documentary on RSN. Doc always had those sunglasses, whether they were tucked in to the visor over the steering wheel, most often being worn, or hooked over his ear in a way that would have looked ridiculous on anyone else. They were just an accessory...

"They were my dad's."

Lightning looked up sharply to see that he'd taken them off and was staring down at them, turning the aviators in one hand and watching them idly before shifting and cleaning the lenses with his shirt.

"Each of us kept something of his personal effects...these were just an extra pair he always had lying around. Gave 'em to me before he left."

Lightning stared at him, surprised he was actually getting an answer, and also trying to digest what he was being told. Left, as in...?

Jesse glanced up at him sidelong, catching the uncertain expression and raised a brow. "The war?"

"Oh..."

That was something he'd never really thought to ask. In all the conversations he'd ever had with Doc, he'd never really asked about his family. Not that that information had really been offered, but when did Doc voluntarily share anything anyway?

"He had more than one pair?" The question sounded ridiculous even as he said it.

Jesse looked up from where he had placed them on the table. His eyes expressing the fact that he didn't know why he was sharing any of this information. It really wasn't anyone else's business.

"He was a pilot."

That could open up a whole new slew of questions, and even as Lightning pushed back the ten or so that immediately came to mind, he decided that was enough of that topic for the time being. He was lucky enough that any of those questions had been answered at all.

Of course, getting ahead of himself, and not even thinking, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind in the silence that followed.

"You ever think of having kids?"

His face flushed in embarrassment immediately, and he chanced a look in the other's direction to see he was just as surprised that a question such as that had been asked, between two near strangers.

Jesse side-eyed him pretty hard in obvious confusion before seeming to mentally shrug his shoulders. "I dunno, maybe eventually."

"If you had a son-" He couldn't believe he was doing this...

The sun had fallen just enough to be able to reach under the protection of the porch. The aviators he now wanted to know so much more about, were firmly in place as Jesse slouched in the chair that obviously belonged to him. His place at the table. He regarded Lightning with a raised brow, chair tilted back on two legs.

"What does anyone want their kid to be like? Just like them? Who wants a carbon copy of themselves."

"You wouldn't want them to be like you?"

"That's a loaded question."

That's a Doc answer. Lightning took a deep breath, not expecting that to hurt.

With a sigh, he actually took a moment to consider it, glancing up when Lightning spoke again.

"I mean. You'd want them to race, right?"

"I'd want them to do whatever they wanted to do. Not just do what they think I want."

"But if they did race-"

Jesse's eyes narrowed briefly and he wondered if somehow he was saying too much, but there was no way anyone in 1952 could know that he had actually been born in the '80s...

"Then they should race as long as it made them happy."

"What if they weren't any good?"

There was a startled huff of laughter in response. "I don't see that being the case."

"What if they wrecked..."

Silence fell over the two and he realized he was beginning to say too much. Jesse might not know where the questions were stemming from, but they weren't the usual generic questions from a curious fan. Hesitating, he ran a hand over his face and looked out over the yard.

"What if they wrecked and never thought they were good enough anymore."

He finally did look across the table, swallowing heavily at the look he was being given. Sure it might have been an expression five decades younger, but it was still rather intimidating when directed toward him.

"Then I would have done a pretty lousy job as a father allowing them to think that I was more worried about a career."

He'd wondered often what Doc would have thought of him stepping back from racing, not that he was out of the scene entirely, but being a crew chief wasn't driving. He hadn't been pushed out of the sport, but he still wasn't on the track either.

Just like Jesse wouldn't be in a few years...

He needed to end this conversation before he gave himself away. If he continued any further, he may just have to spill everything. He'd never been any good at hiding anything from Doc...

As soon as the moment had started it was over, shaking his head and muttering. "No...you'll be a great father."