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Freeriding	By : DodgeSuperBee Category: +1 through F > Cars Views: 1717 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Cars, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Curtis coasted over to a table at the Strip Joint, setting down a tray of drinks for his rough-hewn friends. Chrissi was prancing across the stage, fully aware of his presence, and Tommy Joe was out of earshot at the back of the crowd, having enticed Mater and Doreen to join him.
“I had a little of that last weekend,” he said smugly, waving a tire at the Jaguar. The other trucks around the table laughed gruffly, while one pickup narrowed his eyes critically.
“She ain’t exactly known fer turnin’ guys down, but I’m havin’ trouble believin’ ya,” said Harrison. “Everyone knows what ya done to her boyfriend a few years back and yer tryin’ to claim she was willin’ to forget about that?” He snorted derisively, but Curtis just leaned back on his tires with a wide grin.
“Oh, she was more than ready to let bygones be bygones. I threw some flattering words her way and the next thing you know she was just begging for me.”
“So what’re yer motives? Don’t tell me ya ain’t got any.” Curtis smiled even wider.
“Let’s just say I think Tommy Joe has had his place in the sun for years now. It’s high time he took an early retirement and let someone else share the spotlight. She might just unwittingly help me with my plan, and when I’m up on the winner’s platform, it sure wouldn’t hurt to have a stunning Jag by my side.”
“Positively evil,” Harrison said, as Chrissi made her way through the crowd. She grazed Curtis’ side temptingly, and a quick glance at Tommy Joe revealed he had no clue his girlfriend was doing anything more than collecting tips.
“Tomorrow night. Here, after the races while Tommy’s occupied,” the Jaguar whispered to her newest lover. He rubbed against her, tucking a bill against her sideview mirror.
“Sure, we can meet here, but then I’d rather go to my place. Maybe you can give me a private show.” Her pleased expression showed no hint of suspicion.
* * *
When Chrissi finished her act, she rolled offstage into the dressing room and was surprised to see Doreen there.
“Oh, you finally decided to try cruising onstage? Do you need to borrow any glitter paint?” Chrissi quipped, but her friend frowned.
“No, I’ll save myself fer Mater’s eyes. He asked me to come back here and keep ya safe from a certain bronze-colored pickup that might be courtin’ ya fer all the wrong reasons.”
Chrissi blanched. “Oh, he told you about that, did he?”
“He sure did, an’ he felt pretty awkward bein’ forced to stick around while ya carried on with that truck. Maybe it was Curtis’ idea, but ya coulda spoke up an’ refused.” Chrissi couldn’t look Doreen in the eyes as the pickup continued. “Ya kin have any truck or car ya want an’ damned if ya don’t know it, but ya never shoulda tried fer Mater. I know yer not really attracted to him, ‘cause ya had yer chance at him when I was away an’ he was alone fer all those years. If ya’d really wanted him, ya two woulda got together then but ya never did.”
Chrissi had been genuinely surprised when Mater turned her down. No one had rejected her advances before, let alone a battered truck who she had assumed would be eager for affection from anyone who would have him. She had only come onto him for the purpose of gaining his silence, and if he had taken up her offer she knew she would have scarcely been able to get through the ordeal.
“So the funny thing is, Mater still cares about ya as his friend and he don’t wanna see Curtis hurt ya. I’ll bet Mater’s yer only male buddy who ya haven’t nailed.” Chrissi blinked at this, for Doreen was right a second time. The Jaguar had never been overly impressed by the El Camino’s intellect, but she certainly had a good grasp of what was going on now.
“But he cares about Tommy Joe just as much, an’ he’s worried that Curtis’ll try to run him down outta pure spite at the next demolition derby.”
“You’re right, Doreen. I’ve come to realize that staying with both of them is a conflict of interest.” But how do I tell Tommy that we’re through?
* * *
After the races the next night, Tommy Joe stewed unhappily at the V8 while Mater tried to cheer him up over his disappointing loss. He’d blown a tire early in the race, a new tire strangely enough, and could only watch as the rest of the competitors charged past. Mater hadn’t placed either, but his rival Curtis had come in second and had gloated endlessly.
Chrissi, meanwhile, had finished dancing at the Strip Joint and was now teasing Curtis into a trancelike state. She made her way across his living room until she was breathing against his bumper.
“So that’s your first reward for placing in tonight’s races, and perhaps you’d like to collect your other reward as well?” He smiled at her sassy invitation and moments later, they had thrown caution to the wind and she lay panting beneath him.
If this had come with winning all along, I don’t think I ever would have lost a race, thought Curtis, I only wish I had slashed that hillbilly’s tire a little deeper so he would’ve veered off the course.
* * *
“So you’ve been trying for nearly a year,” Doc murmured, poring over a medical text. He’d already asked a relentless barrage of personal questions, and Mater had answered most of them for the couple. The tow truck glanced over at his wife, knowing that she’d rather be anywhere else at that moment than in the Hudson’s office. She sighed and pretended to be interested in the framed diplomas hanging on the wall.
“Unfortunately these things aren’t always easy to figure out,” he warned, “if there is a problem, there’s just as much a chance of it resting with the husband as with the wife. In your case, I know you’re both healthy overall, though perhaps a little older than most first-time parents. Ideally you’d best be referred to a fertility specialist, though the options there are…not inexpensive.” He inadvertently cast his gaze on Mater and Doreen’s cheap paint jobs and scuffed, patched tires, feeling a twang of guilt for doing so. The Hudson didn’t want to emphasize their poverty, but he hated to send them naively off to the clinic, only to have them be shocked at the prohibitive cost involved.
“How much does it run?” inquired Doreen. Doc paused before locating some pamphlets from a nearby specialist and reviewed them with the couple, who were visibly crushed. Most of the prices quoted were more than they earned in a year.
“There ain’t even no point in goin’ to this place if we kin’t afford anythin’,” Mater said glumly, then added, “I s’pose it’s me an’ not Doreen who’s havin’ the trouble, anyway. Don’t ask why, I just feel it.” His wife took his tire in her own, and Doc silently debated whether he would be stepping beyond his bounds if he suggested less favorable options.
“If it is the male factor,” he told them as gently as possible, having made up his mind, “there’s also the low-tech option of surrogate fatherhood.” Doreen winced and Mater looked surprised. “Of course, choosing to go ahead with that requires a lot of thought and you’d have to find a willing surrogate as well as be ready to accept children who aren’t related to their father biologically.”
“We’ll, uh, think about that,” said Mater, with a faraway look in his eyes. The Hornet nodded.
“I would hope you would,” he said, “it’s not something you’d want to enter into lightly. But if you do decide that’s your best route, it…wouldn’t cost anything, really, and wouldn’t require visiting the clinic.”
Doc watched as the couple left his office, both deep in thought.
* * *
Tommy Joe arrived home and rushed breathlessly to his sleeping room, only to discover it empty. Chrissi should have been back from work hours ago... He called for her, impatient to find comfort after his time at the café had failed to ease the disappointment over his loss. When no answer came, he was quite sure he was alone in his house.
Oh no… he thought, as he spied the note on his bed. Before he’d even picked it up, he knew it was going to bear a message he didn’t want to hear. He’d suspected for a while that Chrissi had found a new lover she’d found it necessary to be secretive about, for she had refused to reveal any details about where she’d been going late at night while she’d never hesitated to do so in the past.
I’m sorry, but it’s just not working out anymore… Those words from the page stung the most, and the racecar crumpled the paper and threw it as far from himself as he could.
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Freeriding