Driving Miss Catherine

Australia

Kevin tapped his foot against the railing he was sitting on. His head was hung and he stared blankly at his red shoes. 'Red,' he thought with a sneer. 'A color I never thought I'd wear on the track.' He sighed and lifted his head when he heard his name being called. He hopped off the railing and followed his physio back to the caravans for a pre-race massage. Turning a corner, he was still staring at his shoes, and ran smack into someone.

"Oh my God, sorry-" she started

"No, its my fault...hey," he looked over the girl he'd just run into and a thousand distracting thoughts he didn't need ran through his mind. "That color really looks good on you," Kevin finally said.

Cat looked down at her red Ferrari polo and matching red shorts. "Thanks! It's so nice to wear shorts in the middle of the winter! Gotta love this Australian weather." She started to continue walking but stopped to turn back to a still gaping Kevin. "Didn't you come in second here last year?"

Kevin blushed; it was probably just from the heat, or at least that's what he told himself. It certainly wasn't because Cat's shirt was unbuttoned enough to clearly show off her Ferrari bikini top. He stopped himself from wondering if she was wearing the matching bikini bottoms under those short, low riding shorts, and shook his head back into focus. "Yeah, well, I came in third, but Ricciardo got disqualified, so I was bumped up to second." He concluded with a shrug, trying to seem modest, yet he really wanted to brag to her. He wasn't the bragging type, but something about Cat made him want to show off a bit. He mentally resigned as he reminded himself that Cat's boyfriend had four world championship titles and that his meager second place win could not stand up to that. He lowered his head and avoided her cheerful stare.

"Sweet," she nodded, not fully understanding. "Maybe you can do better this year." She patted him on the shoulder as she walked around him and continued walking toward the garage. He couldn't keep his eyes from following those red shorts, and mentally slapped himself. Taking a deep breath, he made his way to the the caravans, although at this point, he would need much more than a pre-race massage to get his head back in focus. Maybe a cold shower. Or a bucket of ice water to dump over his head.

Across the paddock, Kevin's teammate was noticing the same outfit on Cat, but with a different outcome. Seb slapped her butt as she walked by, earning him a shocked, girlish, gasp from Cat. She smiled and hid her face behind her clipboard.

"Sebastian, I have work to do," she tried to say seriously, but failed and ended up giggling.

"Cat, come here," he said and pulled her into a tight embrace. "You can't wear that kind of thing around here, you'll distract the mechanics." He whispered into her ear.

"Oh really? Just the mechanics?" She kissed his cheek and drew out of the hug, trying to get back to the checklist on her clipboard.

"Is that 'Ferrari Red' lipstick you're wearing?" He asked, wiping the smudge off his cheek.

"It is. It came with the bikini I'm wearing, and this shirt, and shorts, and this other pair of heels that I didn't want to wear, so I wore some filp-flops I already had. I'm not really a high heels kind of girl," Cat scrunched her nose as she showed off her footwear.

"I still think they look just as sexy." Seb replied.

"Hey, none of that," Cat stepped back and put her index finger over Seb's lips, stopping him. "I need you to win this race for me."

"You want me to win?" He laughed incredulously and his mood changed in a flash. "Cat...."

"What? A girl can hope, right?"

"Don't get your hopes up. I haven't raced in a year, and it was this race that ended things for Kimi, so," he shrugged, and added quietly, "I wouldn't expect much. You saw how qualifying went. I'm three places behind Magnussen, and I'm not used to this car. This track... I have history with this track, and I can't-"