Perfect Strangers (Sebastian Vettel)

33: Monza

A/N ok just want to say that the calendar is following the original calendar from this point and any results after Belgium are fictional as that's when I caught up with this season. So after Monza will be Russia, Singapore, Japan, USA, Mexico, Brazil, Australia, Saudi Arabia and Abu Dhabi.

Lucie smiled at Antti as he handed her a set of green ear defenders. 

"Excited?" he asked her.

"Very," she admitted.  It was race day and Seb was starting from sixth on the grid after a great qualifying session the day before. 

"He will do good," the Finn said.  "He's confident.  He's happy you're here."

Lucie blushed.  She really liked Seb's trainer, and his Press Officer, Britta.  They'd both made her feel at home over the last few days.

It really had been the experience of a lifetime. Joel was going to be so jealous when she told him all about it. Especially how she'd met the McLaren drivers.

She'd met Daniel more than once and got on great with him, despite the Australian constantly teasing her and Seb over Kimi catching them in the act.

The only thing she would change about her stay was the Wednesday. Both she and Seb had been ill. They'd had bad stomachs and Seb thought that it was the food they'd eaten on the Tuesday night.

So because of that, and because of Seb's schedule,  they still hadn't found a time to be intimate. Seb had admitted he was frustrated and couldn't wait until after the race so they could enjoy each other before Lucie had to head back to the UK on Monday.

She was still no closer to deciding whether to take a chance on a relationship. She knew how hard it would be on both of them. She couldn't just follow him around the world and it really would be very difficult to maintain any relationship. She knew she had to make a decision soon, but first there was the race.

The red lights came on one by one. Lucie held her breath. She was tempted to close her eyes but couldn't bare to not watch.  The lights went out and the cars shot forwards. 

                                       ***

The race had been one of the most bizarre races most of the spectators had ever seen. Not one, not two, but three drivers had retired whilst leading the race. For the second race in a row!

First of all Lewis Hamilton had retired after a power unit failure, then Valtteri Bottas had made a mistake and gone off at the Parabolica, damaging his car, and then Max Verstappen had done exactly the same thing nine laps later. 

This left Charles Leclerc leading for Ferrari in their home race.  Seb was in second, six seconds behind,  and Daniel was in third. 

Ten laps from the end Charles' Ferrari began to slow.  It became obvious that he had some kind of problem.  Seb was gaining on him, fast!

Everybody in the Aston Martin garage began to sense that there was a chance for the win.  Britta slipped her arm through Lucie's, smiling at her.  Lucie smiled back. 

Two laps to go and Seb was right behind Charles.  The Tifosi had already started to celebrate, setting off red smoke flares.  Now they realised that the victory might be snatched from their grasp. 

They crossed the line to start their last lap.  Seb was in DRS range.  He pulled out and steadily edged in front of the scarlet Ferrari.

The garage erupted.  Everyone was ecstatic.  Was this going to be Aston Martin's first win? The mechanics jumped up, one of them grabbing a German flag from one of the shelves. They ran to the pit wall. Then he rounded the Parabolica, crossing the line to win the Italian Grand Prix.

Britta pulled Lucie into a hug. Antti wrapped his arms around the pair of them.

"Let's get to Park Ferme," he said. They raced down, following the mechanics.

Antti and Britta pushed to the front. They tried to drag Lucie with them but she refused, not wanting to cause any speculation over her identity. She hung around at the back of the euphoric Team.

The red Ferrari of Charles Leclerc arrived back first. He climbed from his car, his shoulders slumped. His mechanics welcomed him warmly. His team principal shook his head, disappointed.

Then Seb pulled up to the number 1 board. Within seconds he was out and standing on the front of the car. He raised his finger in his infamous victory salute. Then he jumped down and launched himself at his team, hugging each one at the front.

He felt emotional tears bubbling up. He had won again. After nearly two years he had won. And at Monza, in front of the Tifosi, overtaking their hero a lap from the end. That must have hurt Ferrari. Binotto must be spitting mad. He grinned, feeling a little smug.

He looked around, searching for Lucie. He couldn't see her. Where was she?

He took his HANS, helmet and balaclava off, handing them to Antti.

"Where's Lucie?" he asked.

Antti leant and spoke into his ear. "She stayed at the back. She didn't want to cause any speculation or raise awkward questions."

"I need to see her. After the podium. After the interviews. Bring her to my room once I'm done."

"Of course."

Seb went to get weighed, then headed to be interviewed by his old friend/rival Jenson Button.

"Sebastian, congratulations! What a drive. When did you begin to think you could win?"

"Well, my engineer told me Charles had a problem. I knew there was a shot. I never gave up. I feel bad for Charles but I'm just so happy for my team. This is for them. They've been amazing all season."

He answered a few more questions before heading to the podium. What memories this place held. His first win had been here 13 years ago. He gazed out over the sea of red gathered below. He'd always dreamt of winning here for Ferrari but it had never happened. Now he had won for Aston Martin.

Otmar joined him to collect the constructors'trophy. Charles and Daniel followed. Seb patted Charles on the shoulder.

"Unlucky Charles."

"Thank you Seb. I am pleased for you. You deserved it."

"You two are so doing a shoey," Daniel said.

"No way," Seb said.

"Fuck off ," Charles said.

The German national anthem played and Seb felt a tear roll down his face. This time last year he hadn't known if he'd ever win again. He'd been heartbroken and unsure of how things would go at Aston Martin. Now here he was, on the top step and the woman he loved was stood down there somewhere watching him.

The British national anthem began to play for the team. He looked at his team and then he saw her stood with Antti. She had the biggest smile on her face. His Lucie. His love.

Next the trophies were given out and then the champagne was sprayed. He took a massive gulp of it. Now all he wanted was to get all the media bullshit out of the way. He wanted to see Lucie. He had to hold her. She was the only prize he wanted.