Request: ♧
Paddock Walks
George Russell's very adventurous and curious daughter goes too far from home but makes friends with someone new.
The paddock at Imola was buzzing.
Cameras clicked, engines hummed in the background, and crew members scurried around with laptops, tire warmers, and espressos in hand. Amongst the chaos, one small human was on a top-secret mission — one that involved invisible maps, snack recon, and a grand sense of purpose.
Her name was Y/n Russell.
Three years old.
Full-time explorer.
Part-time snack thief.
And currently... completely, utterly lost.
It had all started innocently enough. George had brought her along early that morning, while Carmen was busy sorting out some last-minute ideas to keep the small girl busy. Y/n, ever the curious soul, had been holding George’s hand — until a glittery, spinning wheel cap caught her eye.
She followed it.
Then a butterfly.
And by the time she realized her tiny feet had wandered a little too far, the tall white garage walls all looked the same… and Papa was nowhere to be seen.
Instead of crying, Y/n did what any tiny adventurer would do: she adjusted her sunhat, hugged her bunny plush tight, and kept walking.
That was when she heard it.
“Leo, come on! Not into the McLaren motorhome again—!”
Around the corner, a short-legged dachshund came barreling toward her, ears flapping like flags. Behind him, a very breathless and mildly distressed Charles Leclerc jogged after him, sunglasses pushed up on his head, a leash flailing in his hand.
Leo screeched to a halt in front of her, sniffed her shoes with great enthusiasm, and promptly plopped down beside her like they'd been best friends for years.
“Uh…” Charles blinked. “Bonjour?”
Y/n looked up at him, blinked once, then declared with complete confidence:
“I like your dog. He’s sausagey.”
Charles stared. Then laughed. “Merci. I think he likes you too. Are you... alone?”
Y/n nodded cheerfully. “I’m lost. But it’s okay. I was finding snacks.”
Charles crouched down. “Ah… and where did Papa go?”
“Dunno. But I think he’s tall. Like, really tall. With big hair.”
Charles snorted. “Okay, that narrows it down to... one person. You must be George’s little one.”
Y/n gasped. “You know my Papa?!”
“I do. And I think he’s probably looking for you right now.” Charles gently took her hand. “Shall we go find him together?”
Leo barked in agreement.
So, the new trio — Charles, Y/n, and the now nicknamed “Sausagey” — began their slow parade through the paddock. Charles waved off every confused look from team personnel as they passed.
“Leclerc, you okay?” asked Lando, watching him shuffle past with a toddler and a sausage dog.
“Saving a Russell,” Charles replied like it was a military op.
Y/n waved proudly. “I’m the Russell!”
Soon, they turned a corner and spotted George frantically speaking with a staff member, Carmen close by with wide, worried eyes.
George turned just as he heard, “PAPA!”
A small rocket of pink crocs and energy launched at his legs.
“Y/n!” George dropped to his knees, scooping her up into the safest hug imaginable. “Where on Earth did you go? We were so worried!”
“I was with Sausagey and Cha Cha. We were looking for you!” she said brightly, nuzzling into his shoulder.
Carmen reached over and pulled them both in. “Oh, sweetheart. You gave us a heart attack.”
Charles smiled. “She’s a very capable co-pilot. We went on quite the adventure.”
Y/n wiggled in George’s arms and pointed at the dachshund. “Can we get a Sausagey too?”
Leo barked once, like he agreed.
George groaned. “Don’t start with her, Charles.”
“I didn’t,” Charles said innocently. “She named the dog.”
Later that day, a candid photo would surface online of Charles carrying Leo under one arm, holding Y/n’s tiny hand with the other, the three of them mid-laugh as they walked through the paddock.
The caption?
“Charles, Sausagey & their newest teammate.”
George reposted it with:
“The Great Russell Rescue: Thank you, @charles_leclerc — and Sausagey.”
And from then on, Charles never corrected anyone when they called Leo “Sausagey.”
Because as far as one tiny Russell was concerned… that was his name.
And just like that, my work is done.
I need to lock in and do my work. School's back in session on Monday. I LOVE BUT HATE SOUTH AFRICAAAA.
That's Gang Gang out!!!♡
