Belonging to the Iceman

The Calm Before the Storm

Alain finally arrived home to a very furious son.

"Did you have fun in Australia, Dad?!" Nicolas snarled, "What the fuck were you trying to achieve?!"

Alain looked shocked, even horrified "Is that any way to speak to the man who gave you life?" He growled back.

Nicolas scoffed and walked away from Alain "I can't believe you would do that behind my back! Think you can play matchmaker and fix everything going on between Shantelle and me! What? Just because you won four world championships you think you're the smartest man on earth? You're nothing but a FUCKING SNAKE!" He had turned to face Alain again and his voice had risen to a yell, a furious yell, even a bellow. "You know, maybe Senna was right all along?" 

Alain found his voice "You leave Ayrton out of this! Don't be a coward and bring a man that's been gone for twenty-one years into this!"

"Why shouldn't I?" Nicolas snarled, determined not to back down "he was always right you know? You were a coward! In 1989 you ripped the Championship...HIS FUCKING CHAMPIONSHIP from his hands when you went crying to Jean-Marie Balestre!"

"And this is coming from a 'rookie' who has two Grand Prix's to his name and ONE Pole Position in what, just four Grand Prix's?" Alain snarled back. "Oh, you could teach me SO much Nico! Please enlighten me as to how you will win a World Championship in your very first year? Oh dear, that's right, you don't have a single one to your name!"

Nicolas gave Alain the nastiest look he could and snarled "You see, THIS is why EVERYONE loved Senna, Prost...you were the villain! They hated you! And you know it! And yet because you thought you were such a fucking genius, you are nothing but a snake, a coward and someone that can't keep his nose out of other PEOPLE'S BUSINESS!! LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE! SHANTELLE DOESN'T WANT ME!"

Alain looked as if he was going to burst into tears at any given moment, Nicolas had never treated him like this, he respected his children and in return, they respected him.

Finally, he spoke, "If you can't trust your flesh and blood, then who can you trust, Nicolas Jean?" His voice was full of sadness, even sobs.

Nicolas gave him a nasty look and snarled "Speak for yourself, Papa!" And he was gone, out the door.

The aging man cried for hours, then finally picked himself up off the floor, got his jacket, keys and phone and headed down to the garage, his pride and joy, his Rolls Royce waiting for him.

Easing himself into the driver's seat, he waited for the electric garage door to open, the purr of the engine was music to his ears.

Driving along, he could just smell the faint scent of Shantelle's sweet perfume, and it brought the tears, harder than before.

He didn't know where he wanted to go but soon he pulled into a little old bar, on the outskirts of the city.

"Ah Bonjour Alain!" came the voice of an old school friend of his from behind the bar "what will it be?"

Alain sighed and sat down at one of the old barstools "The strongest drink you have my friend!"

"Something bothering you Alain?" Jacques asked, placing a very aged Scotch down in front of the Professor.

"Just my son Nicolas, knowing absolutely everything when I apparently know nothing!" Alain said, taking a sip of the Scotch, it burned his throat and made his head spin. "You know I don't know where he gets that temper from?"

Jacques gave him a look and said "You Alain, he gets it from you!!"

Alain sipped the Scotch again, getting used to the effects it was already having on him. "Since when have I ever lost my temper, Jacques?" He asked