Warnings: Kissing?? Mentions of bacon cooking? If that counts as a tag?
Word count: ~500
A/n: okay what THE FUCK. I HAD THIS IN MY DRAFTS EARLIER TODAY, THE ASK WAS READY TO BE ANSWERED AND THEN BAM! POOF! ITS GONE?? HELLO??
Anyways, I had this ready to be posted but when I checked (and double, and triple,) it was GONE. I cannot receite the request either for the life of me, just know it asked for More Niki Lauda fluff content
It was rewritten like 3 different times because I really got stuck on this one. Also, I'm working on the Iceman (Top gun) req I got a bit ago, so expect that hopefully by next Saturday?? Meanwhile, I've been trying with that Michael Schumacher fic, too, but I am strugglingggg. I'm hoping to have that one out this month, too??
Early morning light paints the house in a golden hue, spilling through open windows while a gentle breeze wafts through an open window.
There's sizzling on the stovetop, food in the pan cooking slowly. Niki has his back to you as you enter the kitchen.
He turns his head to look at you when he hears you or senses your presence. His face is caught in the direct line of light from the window, highlighting every dip and curve of his face.
His scars are most prominent like this. When he has no hat on. No racing balaclava on. When it’s just him– his skin and flesh exposed to your eyes.
The stovetop has attention again, and his face turns away.
You approach him from behind, feet tiptoeing across the floor tiles. Once in distance, you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him from behind.
Niki seems surprised, his body going mildly taught as he turns to face you. There is a smile on his lips, but the rest of his face is pulled into a bit of a quizzical look.
You smile back at him, eyes tracing the contour of his face with affection. Slowly and tenderly, you lean forward to place a kiss along his shoulder. You don’t say anything. He doesn’t question. Gingerly, you lift your hands up to cup his face when you get that high. Your fingers run along his skin as you follow one of the many scars dappled along his skin. Without a word, you press your lips against his skin, placing more kisses along his face.
At his face, you start at his jaw, placing a few soft and lingering kisses along his jawbone. With dedication and determination you work your way up to the corners of his mouth.
“What are you doing?” He mumbles finally, his eyes watching you as you pepper his face and body with your lips.
Your lips feel like an angels touch against his skin– each gentle press against an individual scar feels like its healing some part of him. Niki is a shattered piece of stained glass, and your golden touches aim to glue the pieces back together.
“Loving you,” you mumble, pausing your motions to reply.
He sighs when you continue, his eyes fluttering closed. He’s giving off the impression he is annoyed with your affection– yet the way he remains where he is without another word of protest tells you otherwise.
For a few minutes you continue the assault before the smell of singed bacon brings the two of you back to the present. He’s apologizing softly to resume cooking, pulling away. But its the promise he makes of ‘later, you have my word’ that has you content to wait, knowing that when he is finished with cooking, you may resume.
(Working) Summary & Title: Niki Lauda, the rookie starting his career requests the help of a mechanic, Margot Lancaster who has a buried past that he’s seemed to uncovered.
Pairing: Niki Lauda x femme!OC (mechanic)
Word Count: ~4K
A/N: UPDATED CHAPTER. Still a little rushed, but I don’t want to leave anyone hanging any more! Also, don't fight me, I used some lines from Grey's Anatomy. It's my comfort show. Hope you enjoy! Thank you.
I hummed as I continued my work, not bothering to ignore my incessant colleague anymore, "If you're going to insult me, at least sound like you mean it. Try again."
"What do you even know about a car? You're butchering it."
"Oh? You too now?" I didn't bother looking up as I heard another join in, "More the merrier."
"I suggest you watch the way you talk to us."
"Or what?" I questioned with a slightly bored tone, pulling out the parts they had just put in for added instigation. I had decided only moments ago to voice my thoughts as they came after weeks of comments being made just loud enough for me to hear. It was always under the breath, in passing, or to each other within earshot just so I could know how the men I worked with felt with having me in charge this season around. So now, when I was met with a staggering silence, I only pushed further, "Another tip boys, if you're going to threaten someone at least have the decency to follow through.
"Listen here -
"I'm all ears."
"You better watch yourself," He said yet another unoriginal threat, trying to grasp at anything to rattle me. Then he dared to say the one thing that was a guarantee to truly piss me off, "Niki won't be able to protect you forever."
This was exactly what I wanted to avoid. My back was still turned to them. I picked up my tools and used the towel from my waistband to clean them, placing them aside one by one, taking my time counting to ten as an attempt to calm down. I looked up at the ceiling hoping there would be some type of explanation written to as why these men were are moronic as they were. Stretching my neck slightly on each side, I turned around to face the so-called hotshots. However, once I got to ten I realized there was only one thing that could be done.
"Fine, can you please help me then?" I pretended dully.
He gave a little scoff, then a look to his friend for reassurance. He rubbed his chin slightly, before throwing up a hand as if saying what the hell, taking a few steps toward me. Before anyone could stop me, or even realize what I was doing, my fist made contact with the man's nose eliciting a satisfying crunch and hiss of pain from me as I pulled back sharply. The room erupted almost immediately, everyone going to the aid of the man now on the floor in shock.
"You bitch!"
"Get up," I said lowly.
Despite my calm stature, I was getting ready to deliver another blow if needed. The rest could see this and sprung forward to hold me back just in case I decided to bolt forward again. There were about five different languages going on around me, but I knew everyone understood what my intentions were. I didn't fight the arms that were holding me back because I was satisfied by getting at least one hit in. One that caused the man to stay huddled on the ground with a small group around him to help him up.
However, their grips slackened when Niki came storming in shouting, "What is this?"
"She attacked me!"
I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Everyone was calm again, using the silence as a coping mechanism to Niki's anger. All hands were to themselves at this point and I had even taken a seat, waiting for the long-winded lecture we were probably going to receive from Niki. However, the man who I never bothered to learn the name of was still recovering from my blow, now stood in front of me with an accusatory finger pointed into my chest. Within seconds, like rapid-fire, we were back at each other's throats. As we began to squabble again, Niki became the physical barrier between us as we spat at each other. At this point, I'm sure my words weren't coherent just fueled by months worth of pent-up anger.
"Enough!"
I could feel the steam coming out through my ears at Niki's words, "I don't need you-
"Go wait outside!" He bellowed, practically pushing me towards the door. I had finally seen his eyes and recognized the fire in them.
As I walked out he kept the same volume, yelling in German to the rest of the people. Although my feet carried me forward I wanted nothing more but to run back in there and really let loose. But I knew better. I was content that I got my point across one way or another. However, I hadn't felt done yet as I sat down on the curb, waiting for Niki to come out. I wanted to leave, but the desire to wait for him exceeded that, and that in itself infuriated me beyond belief.
It didn't take much longer for Niki to come striding out with the same force as he just had, "What was that!"
"Nothing I couldn't handle," I looked up at him fiercely, but somewhat level-headed. I had almost reveled in the fact he was having this type of reaction.
"Clearly you could not handle that."
"It was under control."
"Under control?" He was now yelling, one hand on his hip while the other gestured violently in the air, "You have broken that man's nose."
"What? " I looked at him, taking in his serious expression, understanding what he wanted me to do, "...You're not asking me to apologize, are you?"
He gave me a slight look that said yes. I blew a raspberry at him, which he didn't appreciate, but there was no way in hell I would apologize for my actions.
"I can't have you-" He stopped for a moment, looking at my face debating on how to follow, ultimately correcting himself, "Can't have your hands be indisposed. The car-
"Right, the car," I almost spat, getting up to leave altogether, but Niki grabbed my elbow, forcing me back to him. But especially back to finish the conversation.
He looked at me for a moment, then let go to look down at my reddening hand. He glanced at me then to the side a couple of times before settling, his expression softening briefly as he asked me, "Are you alright?"
"I want to go home," I pulled my arm back and crossed my arms.
He nodded his head yet again, "Take the rest of the evening off."
"No, home, I want to go back to London."
"Margot-
"No," I seethed, shutting him up, "You don't get to try to understand what it's like to be the only woman on a team full of men." He was taken aback by my statement, but I only continued, "Men who think I can't do what they do. Because I'm a woman, I have to give an explanation as to why I know these things. Because when you're a woman you can't just know and God forbid I can do something better than them on my own!" I let out a bitter laugh. Then, pushing his shoulder slightly I said, "You have to be connected to a man. Don't you get that?"
He knew better than to answer. I was deliberate with my words, taking my time to really flesh out what I wanted to say. There was zero urge to cry, yell, or do anything but get my point across.
"I'm tired, Niki. I'm really tired. I don't have the energy to be shy, to be meek, to explain myself to you or anyone else. I'm not going to change the way I speak or hold myself just because...just-
"Think about it, and I mean really think about it," I tapped the side of my head for emphasis, "If I were a man talking this way, acting this way, I would go down in history for being that- that son of a bitch that you wish you one day could be. No, you strive to be. If, if I were a man punching him we'd probably grab a beer in an hour and laugh about it. But what do I get? I get reduced to the bitch who got lucky enough to land a sucker punch on him. And, and over the years the story would change to that he let me hit him. He let me. Isn't that just so kind?"
"I will never be the bigger person because I shouldn't be expected to. I stand here doing my job minding my fucking business but I am still approached simply just because. I'm not going to sugarcoat shit to protect a man's ego. I'm not willing to conform to what you think you want me to be."
It was silent. The only thing that could be heard was my heavy breathing and the annoying drip of some pipe that needed fixing. I held Niki's eye contact, refusing to be the first to break. His expression was blank and neutral which in turn only pissed me off more. I wasn't sure what reaction I wanted out of him, but I wanted something. That fire in his eyes was gone.
"Are you done?"
"Walk away before I hit you too," I hadn't missed a beat, it was like my mouth had a mind of its own waiting for the perfect opportunity to say this to him.
He started to walk away and once he was almost out of sight so did I. It hurt me a little that he hadn't chased after me, but it fueled my rage even more. I didn't have a destination in mind, I just wanted to be anywhere but here. After not making it very far, I heard a soft hum of a car pull up next to me. I knew exactly who and what it was without looking up. I continued to walk, but then there was nowhere more for me to walk. So I watched as Niki leaned over and opened the passenger side's car door.
"Get in the car," He spoke calmly, but firmly, "We're going for a drive."
I stared at him and he stared back. He couldn't possibly think I would get into the car after all of that.
"Please."
It was the first time I had ever heard him say that word. I wanted to strangle him, but I wanted to be close to him. I was angry, I was angry at him, I was angry at the situation. I wanted nothing more than to be away from here. So, before I gave myself a chance to say no, my hand already reached for the door handle.
I was surprised I hadn't burned through the car seat with the amount of anger that seeped through my skin. I think he was uncomfortable with my anger. He could handle it if it was directed towards him, but when it was an overall upset, he didn't know what to do. So, to make it easier for both of us, I leaned my head against the window to watch the scenery go by.
He was tapping on the gear stick as if he were thinking, each tap a new thought that matched the gear he was in. It was starting to get on my nerves, but I knew if I started talking again, I'd start to regret what I'd say. So, I channeled my frustration into my own tapping. With my non-throbbing hand, I started to tap my knee. It only stopped when Niki had stopped it. He had taken my hand in his. He was toying with it the same way he toyed with tools when he was thinking. He was always thinking. But it seemed like his thinking had stopped.
He kept one hand on the steering wheel while the top of his other wormed its way under my palm, effectively placing his hand on my knee. Then with our fingers slightly entwined, he placed them both onto the gear shift, as if he was teaching me how to drive manual. It was only then I tore my eyes from the scenery and looked down at our hands blankly, not quite registering what was happening. Then, my eyes floated up to his arm, until they landed on his side profile.
His eyes were trained on the road like they always were, surveying the plain, but he sent me a fleeting look before repeating his unanswered question from before, "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," I croaked out a whisper after I made sure his eyes were back on the road. Looking down at our hands again, I started to feel that bubble of anger again. I went to pull my hand away, but his fingers flexed up to keep it in place.
"Did he hurt you?" He glanced at me again, his voice quiet, which was unlike him. It was almost as if he was dreading my answer.
"No."
"Good," He secured his grip on my hand before shifting into a different gear.
After some time passed, I let the weight of my hand completely relax onto his, becoming his second skin. We had driven far out into the countryside and the sun was starting to set. I had no idea where we were and I wasn't too sure Niki did either. Regardless, the drive continued. The winds of the roads acted as a cradle, rocking the immediate tension away.
But as life goes, we couldn't just drive forever. Soon enough, he pulled up to the hotel to let me out. This time he let me pull my hand away, but I had wished he kept it there. I thought about staying and keeping it there, but it was time for this eventful night to come to an end.
"Margot," He called for me as I stepped out of the car. His accent dripped off of my name like honey.
"Niki," I turned around, looking through his now open window. I said his name like a warning, it was his turn to know better than to say something he'd regret to me because that would have been the last straw.
"I know this," He pointed into the car, referencing our drive, "Doesn't solve the problem, but I...I hope it helps alleviate it."
"Goodnight, Niki."
"Goodnight, Margot."
---
"Good morning," Niki announced in a booming voice, gaining the attention of everyone in the shop. I knew what was coming and I could feel it in my gut that the once calm atmosphere would never be the same, "Mr. Wagner is no longer on our services, so while we look for a replacement, I am going to need everyone on their toes."
In a very Niki-like manner, he expected his announcement to be all and that everyone would follow suit no questions asked. However, this statement this early in the morning caused a few eyebrows to raise.
"You fired him?" One person spoke up immediately, "He was the best here!"
"He was a pig," Niki shrugged his crossed arms simply as if solving that man's gripe, "Any other questions?"
"It's because of her isn't it?" Another further insinuated, throwing his thumb back in reference to me, "She's the one who hit him."
"And you?" Niki said taking a few steps forward, standing tall to coming almost nose to nose with the man due to his affront, "What did you do to help the situation?"
"What?" He scoffed, taking aback by Niki's response.
"Do you wish I repeat myself?" Niki practically seethed.
"It was between them," Stepping down slightly the man only shrugged trying to backtrack before things really turned sour, "That's all that I'm saying."
"Tell me this then," Niki put a finger into the air, it was a trap for this poor man who was now in the jaws of the predator, "Should I question your abilities the way you have done to her?"
"Enough, Niki," I interrupted him, getting annoyed by the whole thing, "I don't need you protecting me-
"I'm not," Niki was firm in his response, looking at me with the same firmness, "You're suspended for the week."
"Niki, come on," The man tried to reason, but Niki's expression was unwavering, "Just suspend Wagner, we actually need him."
"Out," Niki jutted his thumb, already turning his back on the man and facing the rest of us, "Anyone else?"
"You can't go firing people because she came tattling crying to you-
"Out," Niki repeated himself and was ready to say it to whoever else said something next.
"For fuck's sake Niki," I openly complained hoping to diffuse the situation, but my own anger overtook like a wildfire, "This power is going to your head-
"Stop talking before you regret it too," Niki warned me slightly.
"May as well add on another week to my suspension," I challenged him, thinking I was ready for whatever he could throw at me, but I needed to beat him to it "Better yet, I quit."
---
The witching hours were always kind to me. No one else was here because no one else wanted to be here. That's why I was jumping the fence with my toolbox to look over the car hours after people had left and hours before they would arrive. I tried hard to leave the nights events behind. I thought about getting drunk to really forget about them, but I couldn't sit still long enough. I needed to tinker, I needed to fix, I needed to see how those hooligans manhandled my work. I was quiet as I made my way into the garage. The emergency lights were on, dim enough for me to make out a figure sleeping softly in the corner. I froze slightly, afraid it was a guard or perhaps a dead body, but once the thought passed and I got a closer look it was less than surprising.
Niki's body was slumped, the most relaxed I had seen it in this environment. He must have been exhausted to fall asleep in such a place in such a vulnerable state. But it wouldn't last long now that I was here, he knew it was coming the moment he decided to stay here. I hit my foot against his, waking him up with a slight jolt. With a sharp intake of breath, he regained consciousness.
"Go home."
"I knew you'd come here," He said groggily, breathing out deeply and warmly, "However, I did not think it would be this late."
"Go. Home."
"Home for me is Austria," He looked at me intently, the dark circles under his eyes prominent in the yellow light. I knew he'd rather be sleeping now, but I also knew sleep couldn't find him with the way we had left things. "In my hometown, Vienna, my family is famous for one thing, business," He spoke over me effortlessly, knowing I wasn't going to fight any further than I had to, "My grandfather was a businessman, my father, too. So when they heard I wanted to race cars for a living, they had a few things to say. I decided to risk everything."
"Was it worth the reward?"
"Absolutely." He didn't stutter, but he took a thoughtful pause, "We're both stuck here...In this-this world. You of all people know once you enter, you don't truly leave."
"I can leave whenever I want to."
"Then what are you doing here?"
"I-" I looked at him as if he had the answer. It was repetitive at this point, the cat and mouse game I was playing with myself. Telling myself that from the start I didn't want to to this, but continuing. I couldn't even call it an ebb and flow, it was right in my face. I was lying to everyone around me and lying to myself. I was here with a motive, one that was clear as day, but one I struggled to even admit out loud, "To prove a point."
"You say that," He held up his finger characteristically, his slumber shaken off in an instant as he stood to meet me,"But your point is getting lost and you're letting these petty comments dictate-
"I don't need a lecture on toughening up," I butt in with my own hand, "Don't worry, I have thick skin."
"Skin is not a very tough armor, Margot," His hand fluttered to find my sore one as he continued, "It is soft and easily broken."
"Seriously, Niki?" I pulled away, crossing my arms to hide my newly bruised hand.
He nodded his head, brushing off my rejection, "Look at what is has made you do. You have forfeited, so now we have both lost."
"How selfish of me..." I mused rhetorically. I was looking at his fully now. He was being sincere. But I was quick to cross my arms, not wanting to accept Niki's vulnerability, "What are you doing?"
"What do you mean?" His eyebrows furrowed.
"I mean Niki," I started frustrated, "You called me every day, you've-you've got me back into this, you're holding my hand, then now I get a lecture, what are you doing?"
"This isn't the first time you've expressed your desire to leave and you've never failed to take an opportunity to tell me," He noted smoothly, "You're intentionally volatile, a liability nightmare, and now you ask me what I am doing?"
"Any more compliments you want to throw my way?"
"You need to get your priorities straight."
"That's rich coming from the one who thought it would be a good idea on top of all of this to try and kiss me."
"So now you want to talk about that?" Niki retorted, "When it's convenient for you?"
"Maybe I'm not the right risk for the reward you're so desperately looking for."
The air went still. Niki had become apart of the game. But it was hard to tell who played the role of the cat and who played the mouse. There was it point to our argument, I wasn’t even sure what our argument was over. It was just an excuse for us to talk, to be there together occupying the same space. Now, as the air went still between us I took in a deep breath. Then another. We stared at each other through exhausted eyes. No matter how tired we both were, he was willing to wait me out and I only had so much fortitude left in me. My arms were crossed and my feet were planted, I was practically shaking to keep myself together.
"Margot-
"Give me a minute," I held up my finger to his as went to step forward to fully assess the damage. I did everything I could to keep the tears from falling. I was doing a fantastic job at keeping them at bay as Niki stepped forward.
"I can't do that," He denied me firmly, with a soft shake of his head.
"Niki, please." My voice broke in desperation.
This time, however, he simply pulled me to him. It was entirely unreasonable and entirely spur of the moment and entirely something I should not have done. But I could only hold back so much as my arms clung to his body, pulling him to me further.
(Working) Summary & Title: TBD - I wrote this on a whim and might take down tbh
Niki Lauda, the rookie starting his career requests the help of a mechanic, Margot Lancaster who has a buried past that he’s seemed to uncovered. (This is crap I know)
Pairing: Niki Lauda x femme!OC (mechanic)
Word Count: ~3K
A/N: Not sure that this’ll be anything/be read, but I just watched Rush again and the result was sitting down and writing this in one go. So pardon the lack of proof reading and enjoy! Also, I’m not a mechanic and I know close to nothing about cars, so take everything with a grain of salt.
Inspired by @mypoisonedvine‘s Niki fic and the overall lack of Niki fics! Let’s give Niki some love!
Master-list
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
--
It was pouring the first time we met. The rain was unforgiving, but I’ve come to learn that was just how London rain was. At the same time, it was never enough. It was never enough to rid that strong petrol smell that invaded my nose and crept through the rest of my body. The sound of it was comforting though, a heavy patter created against the open garage that ricocheted slightly to cause a light spray to cool me down the atmosphere. There was a dull static still coming from whatever radio station was left on by the others hours ago, but with just me here, all of it seemed right, exactly how it should be.
That was until a harsh, heavy accented voice cut through it all, like a record scratching to a stop, "You're doing it wrong."
"Shop's closed," I glanced from beneath the hood, not bothering to entertain the man who had strolled in.
"If you wanted to destroy the car, you have succeeded," The voice continued, as he came to stand near the car, but not close enough for me to stop what I was doing. I kept my eyes trained on the open car in front of me, hoping he'd go away. This wasn't the first time I've received unwarranted criticism, especially not the first from a man. Usually, though, it was one of my boss's buddies who'd come looking for him late at night that just had to stop off at my station to 'teach me a thing or two'. But I knew tonight was already going to be different, "You need to drain the oil first, that way-
"We open back up at eight," I cut him off, now elbow deep into the car, feeling my way down blindly. Then, reaching into my side pocket with my free hand, I pulled out my flashlight, the dull yellow garage lights only helped so much. Holding it over where my fingers were, I saw the issue, the obstruction. Without hesitation the man took a few steps further in hopes to see what the light was illuminating. I don't blame him, I'd be curious too especially if I made an incorrect accusation. I didn't need to drain the oil first, the oil wasn't even apart of the equation. What was, was the end of a broken stick that had lodged itself between the metal parts halting any other repairs I would have to do.
He kept quiet, obviously thinking about his next move. He walked over to my station, picking up a tool I couldn't make out in my current position. However, he came back over turning it in his hand a bit to say, "You're a very hard person to find, Margot Lancaster."
My grip on the stick falter, but I was lucky he couldn't see my hand. I momentarily froze, the surrounding sounds halting for just a brief moment before I found words, "It's almost like that's the point."
There was no point trying to lie to him. These days, I still went by Margot, but Lancaster was so long forgotten, I had forgotten. Anyone who looked at my embroidered boiler suit would know me by Margot Banks. Banks could be anyone or everyone. Banks helped me blend in. The fact that I was a woman caused me to stand out enough, I didn’t need a name attached to do even more damage than it had.
"And you?" I continued, trying to regain the same grip I had on the stick, but struggling, "Someone I should know?"
"No, though, I am someone you should get to know," He responded honestly, then stuck out his hand for me shake, "Niki Lauda."
"Hold the flashlight," I pushed the metal into his outreached hand, which he took quickly, replacing it with the tool he'd been toying with.
Niki Lauda. It clicked now, I knew who he was. I kept up with that section in the newspapers, I have for a few years now. He was a rookie from Austria who had bought his way in. Turning the socket in my hand I couldn't help but internally laugh a bit, he knew exactly which one I needed, before I had to ask, the 1/4 inch socket wrench. It would allow me to loosen the bolt and nut enough to pull the stick out. He held the light above me, allowing me to pull the stick out in one go and tossed it to the side while I tighten the bolt back in place.
"So, what do you want?" I asked, knowing that was the only reason he'd be here.
"I'm here to offer you a job," He stated with an unwavering confidence, something I was now realizing was something he had a lot of, "Well, a contract."
"Already have one of those," I answered with a sigh, standing up straight so my back could let out the satisfying pop is was begging for. I had more work ahead of me, but I knew this interaction had shot my concentration, so I'd leave the rest for the morning. Walking away from the car, I pulled my rag from the chair near my station. I expected him to follow my lead, but instead he started to strip off his jacket and began rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. I watched him for a moment as I used the rag to wipe the grease from my hands as best I could before asking, "What are you doing?"
"Fixing a mistake."
"Right," I mumble sarcastically, turning away from him completely. I'd let him have his fun while I packed up for the day.
"I've been looking for someone to be my eyes and ears, someone to think for me. I have an opening on my pit crew that I want you to fill," He noted as he continued to tinker around with the car, rhythmic sounds of cranking following his actions, "You'd be my right hand man...woman, when I pull up during a race..."
He continued explaining the roll he wanted me to fill. It was stereotypical and straightforward. I had to admit, it was well thought out, but not something I was interested in. I've heard the pitch enough times to know what he wanted and what he expected if I accepted his offer. So, while he went into detail, I organized the splayed out tools that emitted soft clinks as I toss them into my toolbox. I untied my boiler suit from my waist and slipped my arms through, adding a layer of protection from the rain I'd have to walk through to get home. Then, finally, I grabbed the backpack that practically held my entire life and slid it over my shoulders before I turned back towards Niki.
I knew exactly what he did to the car without looking at it. I hadn't done anything wrong to the car, I had just done what he wouldn't have done to his car. Closing the hood, he now leaned agaisnt the car looking at expectantly.
"So, what'd you do?" I nodded my head towards the car and handed him a fresh rag for his hands.
"I made it better," His blunt tone showing again, "Should go faster now."
"I'm sure the teacher who drives this will give you many thanks," I made a mental note take a look at his handy work in the morning, "Have a good night, Mr. Lauda."
"So?"
"So what?"
"Do you accept my offer?"
"I like to take my time, work out the kinks," I attempted to explain this time, rather than entirely dismiss him, "I don't like to be rushed. Thanks for the offer, but I'm not the person you're looking for."
"Fine, take that part out," He gave a firm nod of his head, he placed his hands in his pockets, "No pit crew, just apart of the team."
"Really, I'm good," I held up my hand as he followed me outside. I could tell he didn't like being told no, but he held his composure for the moment.
"I'll pay you double what you make now," He yelled over the rain and the sound of the metal door coming to close.
"My salary is just fine."
"Triple."
"No."
---
"Banks!" I could hear my name echo throughout the garage. I was tempted to ignore it, but the chorus of oos from the others around me caused me to listen for it again, "Margot!"
I stared sadly down at the sandwich in my hand that I had only just taken out of its bag. In my moment of hesitation a glob of jelly had already fallen onto my jumpsuit. I groaned at the fact that it had now stained it despite it already being irreversibly dirty. It was the principle of the situation. Standing up, I flicked the glob onto the ground know that with my luck, I'd be the one to slip on it once I came back.
"Don't touch this," I pointed a finger at the couple of guys next to me before mumbling, “Bunch of vultures.”
Walking into the cool building, I had prayed I wasn’t in trouble for working too much overtime again. I had hoped it was another costumer, an extra assignment, or, wishful thinking, a promotion, anything other than a reprimand. My wish was granted, but a wish from a genie never went according to plan.
"Margot, do you know who this man is?" My boss’s gruff voice was like a slap to the face due to his zero volume control. I looked between the guest and my boss, annoyance clear in my expression. I kept my mouth shut, knowing better than to answer the rhetorical question, "This is the Niki Lauda, our newest client."
He had no idea who he was. He was just like that. Someone could come in and if they were confident enough, he'd be sold. So it’s unsurprising that when a young racer comes in offering him money, he’d be kissing the ground they’d walk on.
"He's taken the liberty of changing the tired of Mr. Hudson's car for you-
"How kind," My boss was clearly too distracted by the driver in his presence to scold my sarcasm. But it didn't pass Niki as he gave me a pointed look, "So, what can I do for you gentlemen? I was just about to go on my lunch break..."
"He's entered the Formula Three Race-
"We don't do race cars."
"We do now," He slapped my arm with a thunder of laughter, causing me to cringe, "He's looking to hire a few extra hands for his pit crew."
"I want to see what I'm working with," Niki finally spoke, "All hands are appreciated."
Bullshit.
"I want you to show him around," My boss assigned me.
"I'm sure Tommy would much rather do that," I suggested honestly, already backing away towards the door, "He knows a lot more about racing that I do."
"I requested you," Niki stated, holding my gaze.
Chewing the inside of my cheek, I looked at him trying to figure out his angle. Once I got fed up with our staring contest, I turned on my heel and gestured for him to follow. Everyone's eyes were on me and our mysterious guest. It wasn't often a well dressed racer came around looking to put together a pit crew, so all of a sudden everyone was on their best behavior. Niki already knew his way around from the previous night so he had beat me to my workspace.
"What are you working on?" He asked peering over the car, eagerly.
"My lunch," I said, resuming my position on my chair, happy my sandwich was left untouched.
"Other than your lunch," He gave me a glare from the side, poking and prodding a few things.
"Nothing," I shrugged, being purposefully difficult, two could play at this game, "I'm on my lunch break."
"The race is tomorrow," He said, pulling away from the car to stand in front of me, arms clasped firmly behind his back, "I've already got my eye on a few people here to join me."
"See that guy right there," I pointed with my pinky to Tommy, who had been pretending like he wasn't eavesdropping this entire time, "He's one of the good ones."
"And you?"
"I'm on my lun-
"On your lunch break," He finished my sentence frustrated, "You've said. Will you attend?"
"Can't."
"If it's work you're worried about-
"No, I know what you're trying to do," I shook my head, seeing right through him. He wasn’t exactly subtle, showing up during daylight, but he still wasn’t accepting my answer, "It's my day off and I have plenty of grocery shopping to get done and if I don't get there early, they'll be out of the things I want."
"It's at 3, you have plenty of time to make it."
I told myself fervently I wasn't going to go. I had no business seeing a rookie. But it was too late my body had taken me to the track, binoculars in hand. I was tempted to push myself to the front, but I had enough self restraint to sneak up to the announcers booth area to see the entire track before me. It wasn't anything fancy, nothing compared to a Formula 1 Race. There was a small wooden picket fence that kept the fans on the small grassy hills as they cheered on the drivers and white tents that held the up and coming socialites.
Looking through my binoculars, it only took me so long before I found Niki. He looked different than the last few times I saw him. He no longer looked like a normal man that could be looked past on the street. His light blue outfit now looked like a second skin to him, only building up the anticipation. He belonged on the track.
The announcer started to countdown and suddenly the cars were off, that familiar hum and burning rubber smell began. Niki was being strategic, not gunning for the front, but working his way lap by lap to the front up until the last lap where he was hot on the tail of Hunt, the current name in the lead on the scoreboard. The two of them left the other competitors in the dust, not even bothering to look back for them.
Finally, after faking Hunt out, Niki got ahead. I could feel a bubble of excitement start to form in my chest as they were coming closer and closer to the finish line. I was praying he would stay in the middle, not allowing anything to get past him. He had it in the bag. He knew what he was doing. But that's when Hunt got aggressive and made contact, causing them both to spin out and the crowd to roar.
"Come on, come on," I begged to myself hoping Niki would restart before Hunt had the chance to. It was up to luck at this point. Well, it was really up to those responsible for the car before hand. If things were done right, Niki’s car would start and it would only take him a second to face the right way and finish the race. However, luck was not on Niki's side as I saw smoke start to leave from the car. He was done, left in the dust of Hunt’s car. I was almost as furious as Niki was getting out of the car and ripping off his helmet. I thought about going down there to chew out the officials, but I left before I overstayed my welcome, "Fuck."
---
"That was your line, you had that corner."
"I know."
"If you hadn't braked, you would have crashed," I spat harshly front beneath the car, "What an asshole. I mean, desperate times call for desperate measure, but how desperate are you?"
"I know."
"Who does he think he is, anyways?"
"James Simon Wallis Hunt."
"Fucker," I mumbled, my temper getting the better of me.
"What colorful language," He hummed, as I heard him flip the newspaper that no doubt covered the race, calling Hunt the next best. He had guts, I’d give him that, but it was a stupid move, a cheap shot.
"Oh, please, don't act like you're not pissed off," I scoffed as I rolled out from under the car to see Niki sitting in the chair, "I saw you when you got out of your car."
"So you went?" He asked, folding down the newspaper just enough to see me.
"Don't flatter yourself."
"You miss it," He turned the conversation onto me, bringing the newspaper down to his lap to reveal the entirety of his face. Even though it came out as sort of a questioning tone, I knew it was a statement. A statement I was avoiding telling myself.
"You’re not mad," I copied his tone. I couldn't believe he wasn't more upset than he was acting now.
"I was," He stated simply and I believed him, but his tone told me he was thinking, plotting. I started to laugh lightly, knowing what was coming next. He had gotten me to talk about it. He had gotten me to talk about something I had hoped I'd never talk about again.
"I'm still not joining you," I said sitting up further, bringing my knees closer to my chest and reaching for my canister full of water.
"A P160 that weighs 600 kilos.”
"Ok," I followed, taking a swig of water.
"What do you think?"
"Heavy," I raised my eyebrows in consideration, going in for another sip before saying my conclusion, "Shouldn't be that heavy."
"Has a V12 engine," He explains further, tucking the newspaper under his armpit, now crossing his legs to lean forward, "Horse power getting 450."
"Should be at least 490, but needs to be 500," I said screwing the cap back onto the bottle, to say , "Sounds like a shit car, don't bother with it."
"What would you do?"
"Come on," I looked at him, but his expression didn't change, "Fine, the engine needs to be 20 kilo lighter...replace the exhaust system."
"Barely made a difference," He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest as he brushed off my suggestion.
"Are you using magnesium parts?"
"This is why I need you."
"No it isn't,” I pointed at him with a slight smile, “Because I know you've already thought of that, haven't you?"
"I have," He stated forthright.
"How much faster was it?"
"Two point three seconds."
I eyed him for a few seconds. The words I’m impressed almost left my mouth, but I stopped myself and frowned, “I’m retired.”
(Working) Summary & Title: Niki Lauda, the rookie starting his career requests the help of a mechanic, Margot Lancaster who has a buried past that he’s seemed to uncovered.
Pairing: Niki Lauda x femme!OC (mechanic)
Word Count: ~3K
A/N: This is a semi-FILLER because ironically enough my car broke down and I’ve been stranded at my cousins apartment. VERY long story short, I left my phone in the tow truck and just got it back and wrote this on it so please mind the errors lol. Anyways, this chapter is inspired by the fact I wish Niki could fix my car, it has nothing to do with that, but still. Enjoy!
And if you want to be tagged let me know :)) (I hope I got everyone, since I’m on my phone, I didn’t have the og list from my laptop, so bug me again if I missed you!)
Inspired by THIS POST (go take a peek, you won’t regret it!)
"Don't act so surprised to see me here," I smiled when I saw Niki approach me, then asked a rhetorical question, "I work with the team don't I?"
I truly tried to stop the smile from spreading even further on my face. However, it had been a few weeks since the last time I'd seen Niki. With the mark of 1975 racing season officially over, that entailed the winter break. The break was intended for rest, recovery, and some off-season training, however, this time was also reserved for a mountain of charity events. I had always hated the in-between, the impatient waiting before I could properly feel the rush again. I knew Niki related to this like no other. This was our element and it was hard to leave it behind even for a day.
"I stood up Clay last time," I answered sincerely this time, crossing my legs in my seat at the bar to create some room for Niki to stand, "Didn't really have the heart to do it to him again."
"Such a people pleaser."
"It's called being polite," I countered as he just rolled his eyes away from me.
It was partially me being polite, however, the drive could be found in my curiosity about the event itself. I'd been invited to a handful before, as Martin Lancaster of course, but every time I'd decline, never show up, and for some wasn't even invited. Regardless, I'd never been able to fully indulge in the championship life no matter how much I wanted to. So when Clay offered to take me as his plus one, I tried to be as blasé as possible when in reality I was buzzing to attend the brunch. I knew I wouldn't enjoy it, all the podium places schmoozing and giving speeches about the 'toughest season yet' and the wealthy teams showing off their drivers to the people rich enough to attend hoping they'd write a hefty check. That's exactly why I became the fly on the wall near the bar, experiencing the world I'd once been a part of from an intimate distance as if crossing it off a bucket list.
"You look...strange," Niki's bluntness pulled me back to his demanding presence.
"Niki, you have such a way with words," I blinked a few times, feigning amazement to cover my insecurity under his gaze, "Truly, it's awe-inspiring."
I knew I looked different and I didn't need Niki to tell me that. Him making that comment only fueled the self-consciousness I felt on the way over here. I couldn't remember the last time I wore a dress, let alone something as feminine and floral as this one. It was brunch-appropriate and oil-stain-free, something that would help me blend in, but it felt so strange and foreign on my body.
"You look strange," I started the conversation again lamely. He too was dressed more casually, but he looked good as much as I'd hate to admit. But he looked strange in this setting, not quite belonging in the same way as the others. The difference between our strangeness was that he did this to himself on purpose. He didn't want to be here and he would never actively choose to be, but I knew it had to be contractual of some sort.
"You prefer my other suit?" Niki asked. His tone took the same form as my previous rhetorical question, however, there was a hint of something new in it that I decided not to question, but to argue.
"No-
"I wasn't asking," His eyes were nowhere but on my own.
"Then you have some assumptions," I started to glare slightly. For some reason, one that was still a little hazy for me, Niki had been acting different since his win and my drunken night. I expected the days, even weeks following to be awkward, angry, bitter. They were anything but. Niki was more curious now, overall more thoughtful and lighter in his spirit. I chalked it up to his win, anyone in their right mind would be like that after a win. But now, as Niki carried this win with him, he was proving it wasn't just that.
"Are they wrong?"
"Severely."
"Shame," He flirted softly, then gestured towards the bartender behind me for a drink of his own.
I took it as an opportunity to study his expression a little closer than usual. He even looked surprised at his words impulsivity. I took a small sip from my drink to stop myself from revealing any of my own secrets. I almost threw the entire thing back, but I wouldn't let myself get caught in the trap of bottomless mimosas. When Niki finally received his own drink he took a few steps forward to receive and to thank the bartender. I thought he'd take those same steps back, but he remained within a short arms reach of me. He sipped what looked like water, ever responsible of him, and surveyed the area around us in our secluded corner. He began shifting his weight on his feet, back and forth, once again, shuffling forward slightly. These few steps were no longer in the realm of my personal bubble as he burst it with a few more steps. I couldn't help but start to get confused about why he had gotten so close, especially since I thought he would have left me to sit alone at the bar by now.
"Niki, you're starting to smother me," I said pushing him back slightly by the shoulder, the touch automatically making me feel awkward. I added a light flit of laughter in an attempt to seem less stiff with my statement, "I can barely reach my drink without hitting you with my arm."
"I am not trying to," He squirmed slightly, coming even closer than he had if that was even possible, "Only trying to give the caterers room when they pass."
"Whatever," I mumbled, trying to lose his attention before he saw how his proximity made my face warm.
But I was too late, he had already seen how my cheeks tinged pink. So before he could say anything I went on to complain.
"Niki, you're doing it again," I fussed as he was starting to block my view of the emcee of the event, "How am I supposed to see what's going on?"
"Don't worry I'll tell you if anything interesting happens..."
"You're not even facing the right way! Now move," I tried again to laugh at the situation and once again moving to physically push him but only being met with resistance, "What, wait- Are you blocking me on purpose?"
"No."
"Lying isn't your strong suit, Niki."
"Fine," He caved after a few beats. Annoyed with himself he continued to explain, "Those people are looking over here.."
I glanced over his shoulder and sure enough, there were a group of tabloid vultures ready to find any roadkill. I frowned a bit, shrinking behind Niki's body again for the moment. I remained confused as to why Niki was acting so cryptic about it, "Alright, so let them look, we can't control their eyeballs."
"I'm not sure that you want those people to know that you're here," He pointed out, "They've already begun spinning a story."
My mind wasn't preoccupied with whether or not they would know who I was, at this moment I couldn't care less as I was too focused on how when Niki was talking I could feel his warm breath next to my ear and on my neck as he leaned over to grab my drink to hand to me without asking. However, the thought of thinking I'd be written up as Niki's arm candy was another thing.
"I'm going to go say something," I started to get up from the high chair, but Niki refused to move. He blocked my legs from even thinking about swinging down to the floor.
"There's no need." He went as far as to reach for my legs and gently push them back to their previous position.
"What does that mean?" I searched his face for an answer. I was quick to find one, "You already said something and that's why you're over here."
"Something like that," He brushed his nose as if it covered up his response. His arm came to rest behind my chair now, practically encircling me and excluding me from the outside world.
"And let me guess, by doing so you've made it worse." His silence answered my previous statement, "Seriously Niki?"
"It wasn't my intention..."
"Then what was?" I asked him but he just let me continue with my next comment, "And here I thought you wanted to keep me company."
"Sorry to disappoint,” He gestured with his hands, but the one behind me brushed my shoulder slightly.
Niki was an intentional man, everything thought out and if it wasn’t, still level-headed. It wasn’t hard to recognize his behavior patterns, he knew what he was doing. His touches were brief and fleeting, but they were there. Experimenting and learning how I would squirm under it. He was testing the waters with me, completely unafraid of exploring waters that he didn’t know the depth of.
"Don't you want to know which team will receive the most funding? Enzo won't be happy if it's not Ferrari,” I shivered as his hand left me.
"No," He answered readily, "All that affection, all those smiles, is a sign of disrespect."
"Disrespect?" I couldn't help but laugh which caused a small smile to appear on Niki's face, "You know what Niki? This is probably the first thing you've said that I agree with."
He gave me a look to tell me he thought I was just entertaining him.
"I'm serious. You're right, all the fake smiles, don't get me started on the charities they pick," I scoffed at the idea of the cherry-picked event, "Fuck dying children, you know?"
"Maybe I should call those reporters over." His lightness was back in an instant.
"Niki don't look at me like that!" My face burned in what I thought was embarrassment, but I knew better than that, "Not 'fuck dying children'. I'm not heartless...It's more like...'fuck, the dying children'..."
"Because that makes it so much better."
I was feeling a warmth in my chest that felt strange yet familiar. Niki was different today and him being different made me different. Again, to his advantage, he had nothing to worry about since he had already won and he was in that sweet spot of time where he had a break before starting the next season. But today it seemed like more than that. Something more than he wasn't telling me. Something more I've been trying to avoid. But the sun hit a little warmer today than before making it that little bit harder to disregard.
"I should go find Clay." I avoided Niki's suddenly heavy gaze.
"I'm sure he's missing your company," Niki made no effort to move, and for the first time neither did I.
"I think I could get away with one more drink."
"Another mimosa?"
"Please."
---
"Welcome back!"
Niki didn't have a second to react before the massive bottom of champagne was poured down his back by the Ferrari team. As fast as they did it, they ran off in case Niki decided to angrily charge after him. If they knew him any better they would know he'd just stew with anger, which he was already getting a jump start on.
"Don't look at me like that," I put my hands up in defense, at Niki's solid glare, "I didn't know they were going to do it."
It was my idea. I was afraid if I fessed up, we'd stop talking again and that was the last way I wanted to go into the new Grand Prix season. We needed to be on the same page, but I was still going to have my fun. I laughed as he continued to wipe the sticky liquid from his eyes. While he complained, I took the opportunity to grab one of the towels from the stack for him to dry off with.
"This is not funny," He objected once again as my laughter didn't stop, "I have only just arrived and-
"Here," I threw the towel over his head and started to ruffle his hair through it. This unexpected action for both parties caused Niki to stumble forward slightly, bumping into me. The light touch reignited my laughter once again, another wave of entertainment to ride.
"Margot," I thought I could hear a laugh starting to break through Niki's voice as he said my name. Then he grabbed my wrists to stop my actions. I ruffled his hair one last time and wiped his face gently before fully revealing it. Only then did I start to pull back the towel, could I make out the real reason he said my name.
My actions slowed down exponentially, the towel still in my now nervous grip. If I let go, I wasn't sure I could trust myself enough to know what I'd do next. Niki, though, seemed to be one step ahead of me, trusting himself a bit more in his actions. His grip on my wrists was still firm as he pulled me forward by them, causing the air we breathed to mingle. A once humorous moment quickly turned into something much more intimate than it intended to be. It was always a look here, a glance there, a something I thought I had looked too far into that I brushed off. But now, while Niki's hooded eyes flickered between my own and my lips I knew we were on the same page. When he started to lean in a bit further, our lips only a centimeter away from each other, that's then when I snapped back into reality. I pulled my hands back to my chest so I could create some distance between Niki and me, it all becoming a little too much for me to handle.
The butterflies and the blush caught up to me as I walked around the car to make as much distance between us as I could. I couldn't look up at Niki, but I could still see him standing right where he was. I refused to look up so I found comfort in the only thing that could provide me comfort.
"I came in a few days ago, to get started on your car," I was surprised I even had a voice, "The new parts came in, so your tires should be better than your last, and I'm still waiting on the alternator, but we've got time, and uh, and you, you uh were going to kiss me..."
I trailed off with a quiet, nervous sigh. I knew I'd be met with silence, so I dared to glance up at Niki. He too was avoiding my gaze. He used the corner of the towel the wipe across his mouth as if wiping away our nonexistent kiss. Before I had the chance to look away, his eyes locked with mine.
"I was."
"Don't," I looked back down at the car.
"Why not?" He shrugged, not seeing the problem.
"Why not?" I repeated his question with a dry laugh, "I didn't even want to do this," I pointed to the car now, "But here I am. So I'm definitely not doing this." I pointed between him and me now. I looked at him, already regretting my words. His expression looked guilt-ridden, "Niki-
"You don't need to do this," He took a few steps forward to the car, "I'll rip up the contract, it's the start of the season anyways."
"No, you're not going to mess this up," I knew he hadn't meant it as an ultimatum, only responding to my comment, but I wanted him to know where I stood and that I wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon, "I just don't do racers. You guys are nothing but bad news-
"You taught yourself how to drive you taught yourself how to do all of this you got yourself to first place don't you ever want someone there to acknowledge your accomplishments?" Niki asked his question over me. His response told me he was well prepared for this conversation. Clearly, something he's already given thought to.
He was starting to know me a little too well for my liking, he knew exactly what u wanted as if he read it from my diary.
"You are not that. You don't want to be that," I tried to reason, "You just think that you want this because of my....position...I'm a girl who fixes your car, I may as well bring you a beer."
He gave me an amused look as if saying don't flatter yourself. It was a bit ironic since he and I were pretty on par with each other. However, this wouldn't be the first time someone was attracted to me purely out of the fact I fit into a main, stereotypical male fantasy; women and cars. I was just another commodity that they wanted. I refused to put myself in that position after everything I had been through, no matter how much I wanted to.
"It's just misplaced feelings you're feeling right now so please, just-" I couldn't finish the sentence anymore, "Look, go get yourself cleaned up, I'll start with the car and..."
"And what, huh? Pretend that we weren't both leaning in for the same thing?"
"Yes."
"Margot."
"Niki."
"Don't say my name like that."
"Like what?"
"Like you hate me, hate this," He was now at the car. I hadn't even noticed the steps he had taken to get here, "Because you don't-
"Don't,” I held up my hand as a warning, “Make something out of nothing.”
"Nothing...right," He inhaled a quick short breath through his nose to act as if he was unbothered.
But I'd never seen him so bothered before. At least not like this. Sure he'd be bothered by some of the FIA rules or the errors people would make, he would be bothered though but now he was upset. His hand was running through his hair, his usually collected mannerisms now frazzled, and his stance slightly awkward and unsure of what to do next. I tried throughout the break to bury anything Niki related and now with him standing in front of me, I knew I had messed up. I had jinxed myself. I had put myself back at square one.
"Now, go clean yourself up and I'll get the others to help fit you to the cockpit."
(Working) Summary: Niki Lauda, the rookie starting his career requests the help of a mechanic, Margot Lancaster who has a buried past that he’s seemed to uncovered. (This is crap I know)
Pairing: Niki Lauda x femme!OC (mechanic)
Word Count: ~5.3K
A/N: I’m going to loosely base the timeline off of the movie, but it’s more inspired if anything. I’m touching on Margot’s background (hope it’s not confusing) but it’ll be explained better/fully next chapter. Thank you to google translate for the Italian and google for things about cars. I think this whole thing was better in my head, but it’s setting up some good stuff! So stick around if you’d like :) And most importantly, thank you to all of those who read and enjoyed the last part!
I’ve also made a playlist that I listen to while I write this, so if anyone is interested hit me up. (I used talking head lyrics in this one lol) and I’m still figuring out tumblr, so if you want to be tagged, let me know.
Inspired by @niki-fucking-lauda‘s post (it’s cute, check it out!)
Master-list
Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
–
"I thought you had forgotten about me."
"I had some business to attend," Niki stated in a matter-of-fact manner.
"Races..." I corrected him, as I joined him at the break-room table, "Admit it, you missed me."
"These are the terms," Niki ignored my teasing, instead sliding the package of papers towards me. They were secure in a yellow envelope, but anyone could see that there was a thick stack of papers within.
"You really don't know how to take no for an answer," I laughed lightly. He kept his hands neatly folded in his lap, waiting for me to open the envelope and view the papers. I reached to feel the heft of it, then leaned forward to bring it towards me. However, before I actually opened it, I made sure to say, "Don't get excited, I'm only looking."
Niki had been in London for just shy of three months, but hadn't once stopped by. I knew he was interested in moving onto bigger and better things so I didn't think I would hear from him after I had declined his offer, but that was just wishful thinking.
He was determined to pester me, no matter the form of communication. He had started to call me after a handful of his races. He wasn't looking for praise, but for me to point of his flaws. Then, not soon after, it was more than just the occasional call about a race, it turned into an almost daily occurrence. Inbetween races, he wanted to know more. He wanted to know how I would increase traction while driving on a wet track, what I knew about said tracks, or simply start with if I had any interesting cars in the shop lately. However, he was more interested in telling me how I could find more interesting cars if I had joined him.
Niki had called so frequently the others in the shop started to call it the Lauda Line. It didn't matter if I was neck-deep in work or the time of day, once that double alteration was yelled I knew I had to drop everything to answer it. At first, I ignored it, not caring how much it rang. But I couldn't ignore the calls for too long, not for a lack of trying, but because the rest of the ship, my boss especially, didn't appreciate the constant interruption. Niki was a persistent man and he wanted it known. His tenacity led to where we were now, sitting across each other in the cramped storage closet that was more or less used as a sort of break room. Why he was still in London was beyond me, when I knew he had more pressing matters elsewhere in Europe.
"You're Formula 1 now?" I questioned, as I flipped through the first few pages where it said he was newly signed to the BRM Formula One team. I couldn't help but think about the retro-pay I deserved.
"I am."
"You move fast."
"In my line of work, that's the only way you can."
"Funny," I snapped my eyes up at him so he knew I wasn't humored. Skimming through the conditions, it was nothing less than expected. It was standard. Standard pay, standard living stipends, standard expectations of a mechanic, some added benefits that came with attending races, conferences, and, of course, the parties. It was comical the way the papers hinted at certain liabilities, "Pen?"
He looked at me dumbfounded, surprised by my simple compliance. By the look on his face, I could tell he expected more of a fight. After composing himself, he pulled a pen out of his blazer and handed it to me. Then, skipping to the last page of the agreement, not bothering to review the ridiculous regulations, I wrote on the dotted line. Turning it back to the first page, I gathered the papers and tapped them against the table making sure they were in line before sliding them back to Niki the same way he had for me. He tried not to seem too eager as he went to the final page to see my signature for himself. I watched his eyes search the page, running down until it landed at the bottom.
"What is your issue!" He asked, truly at his wit's end. He clearly was not expecting to see the letters N and O written boldly and underlined instead of my name, "I am doing you the favor."
"And what favor is that? Hmm?" I questioned, snatching the papers up to wave them in his face, "All you're trying to do is poach me. There is nothing in this for me."
He blinked a few times in frustration, then handed me the pen and paper again, "Fix it."
"What?"
"Make them your terms," He used his chin to gesture to the papers, "Isn't that what you want?"
I thought I finally had him, the final straw to get him off my back, but he was too far committed to let me go that easily. My leg was bouncing up and down impatient to leave, but then the pen found it's way back into my hand and I had already begun the correction process. As I did, I mentioned, "I won't go to the races."
"Fine."
"I mean it," I looked up at him for all intents and purposes.
"As do I."
"Hmm..." I concentrated now on the fine print of things. I refused to have a 'clause' be my demise, "and I won't watch them either, won't listen to them, and won't even read about them until I hear about it directly from you."
The lack of response matched the confusion on his face, "What do you mean?"
"You find me wherever I am after the race and tell me, to my face, how it went. I want it from the source," I emphasized my point to make sure he understood the seriousness in my words.
"Done," He agreed with a simple shrug.
"However," I scratched out an entire section, the pen's ink now fully covering the page, "I want to see the tracks beforehand."
"I can arrange that."
"Now, I would work for you. The same way you would work for me. You and me, we'd be a team. Fifty-fifty. You do whatever you want to do and I will do the same. I won't sign to a team, a sponsor, or any of that nonsense, that's your business," I said intently, before repeating myself to make sure I was as clear as I possibly could be, "But you and me, we're a team."
"You would still be working with the team."
"With the team, not for the team," I emphasized, writing that down as it's own bullet point. Then I went ahead and tore out the final few pages that concerned the pit crew and race regulations.
Taking a few minutes, I finetooth combed through every page before I felt content enough to finally push it back to Niki.
"Now, if I were to agree, this is what would be more acceptable." I glanced up at the clock, my fifteen-minute break over, "Read over this, find me after work, and we'll talk more about it."
"You're setting me up for failure," He said knowingly, standing up, "I'll arrive and you will just tell me no. How do I know I'm not wasting more time?"
"Always the optimist," I stood, following suit as he held open the door.
"Realist."
"I'm a tease, but that would just be cruel," I smiled and shook my head, "I get off at 5."
As punctual as any Austrian, Niki had met me fifteen minutes before the end of my shift, not daring to waste any time to finish our discussion. I gathered my things while he waited for me leaning against his car.
He looked like he wanted to get to the point, but I cut him off before he could, "Take me to the track, I want to show you something."
For a driver, he was being incredibly patient, not something I thought I'd encounter. I wanted to make my decision at the track and he seemed to understand that. Arriving, it felt strange to be there without the natural chaos that came with an actual race. There were a few people here and there walking about, most likely on their way out for the day, leaving the perfect opportunity for Niki to do what I wanted him to do. Before I could have the conversation I was to have with him, I needed to see him drive naturally. I wanted to see him in his car without the adrenaline, pressure, or influence of a title looming over his head. I just wanted to see him drive.
"Go again," I yelled over the hum of his engine as he slowed down next to me.
Niki only stared me down through his helmet and held up his hands in disbelief before his muffled voice said, "I have already gone around ten times!"
If I was being honest, I lost count of how many times I asked him to go around the track. It had to be more than ten, but I could tell Niki was trying to keep his cool, continue to be patient with me. Yet, his desire to indulge me was wearing thinner and thinner with each lap.
"Again," I patted the car, "Last one, I promise."
Instead of immediately running the lap again, he pulled off his helmet and pulled up the balaclava from around his head just enough to say, "That's what you said the last time."
I tried to assure him, "I'm serious this time. Last one."
He pulled the cloth and helmet down over his face again, not without sending me a slight glare. Then he shifted into the correct gear and sped off once again. This time though, he was getting careless, wanting it to be over. That twenty percent chance speech he had given me going up a few percentages. The only thing standing between him and the metaphorical finish line was me. He was fed up and I could see that as he drove a little less calculated than he had been.
I hadn't expected it, but I was starting to get stage fright. When it had first happened to me it was more of an initiation ritual that I didn't see coming. So to be the person who knew what was going to happen made my heart beat a little faster with each shaky step I took onto the asphalt. I made sure that he was at the farthest point from me, the point where he wouldn't be able to see my new position. I remember the first time I was in Niki's position. I was cocky, a know-it-all, that thought running pointless laps was a waste of time. So with each one, I challenged myself to go faster and faster each lap around until I was force braked so hard I spun out of control and gave myself a concussion.
So now, on the other end, I started to question my position. If I stood he would see me the moment he hit the apex of the turn, if I sat it would take him only a second longer, but if I laid down...Taking in a deep breath, going vertebrae by vertebrae I laid down on the warmth the track held onto from the day seep through my shirt to my back. I was sure I was making it up in my head, but it felt like time had slowed down. The birds flying above of me in my left peripheral looked as though their wings barely cut through the air. But when I heard Niki turn that corner, time had continued faster than I remembered it could. Closing my eyes, I took in a few shallow breaths in preparation. The sound of the car approaching became louder and louder, drowning out the pounding of my heart until it came to a screeching stop.
My eyes shot open and met the clouds that had barely had time to move. Automatically I sought out the birds to see if they had passed while I stayed in my position, back against the ground. I could hear the engine turn off and there were only a few calm seconds before I Niki scrambled out of the car yelling, "Are you crazy!"
"Did you feel that?" I asked a bit breathlessly, tilting my head back to see him, truly snapping back to reality.
"Do you have a death wish?" He asked, ripping off his helmet to scold me further, "What were you thinking? I could have hit you!"
"But you didn't," I said with the same provocation as my previous comment.
"What was that?" Niki asked, clearly still flustered over the situation.
"I'm trying to get you to see my point," I responded, finally getting up to be at the same level as him, “The point you’ve been ignoring.”
"I see your point," Niki nodded his head in anger. I could see the sweat that had built up on his hairline, "It's clear you're trying to scare me off! It is not going to work."
"Really, I'm not," I insisted, shaking my head. I began to walk down the track he had just driven on, "Come, come look at these."
He ran his tongue over his lips, searching for words to respond to my strange, borderline cryptic behavior. However, after a quick internal battle, he begrudgingly walked over to next to me, clearly still fuming at the situation.
"This is a reminder that it can all be taken from you like that," I snapped my fingers instantaneously, "You learn to forget. But my job is to remind you that rug can be taken out from underneath you at any moment. Do you understand the gravity of that?"
He looked at me with wild eyes as if saying that's what all this was for, but then he nodded his head regardless.
"No, don't just nod your head..." I stressed, probably looking insane as my hands kept fiercly gesturing toward the tire marks, "I need to hear you say it."
"I understand."
"No, you don't," I shook my head further, "You, you need to mean it."
"Margot, I understand." We both went quiet while I took the chance to read his face. I needed to know just how serious he was about it as much as he needed to see how serious I was. He looked at me and then up into the sky breathing out the breath he was holding, letting out any grievances he still held onto, then looking back down at me to ask, "You said your job?"
I tilted my head to the side, trying now to be as blasé as possible as I shrugged my shoulders, "I put in my two weeks."
---
"Everyone," Niki's Austrian accent boomed throughout the garage, gaining the attention of all it's inhabitants, "This is Margot Lan-
"Banks," I spoke over him, stepping ahead of him slightly with my hand already stuck out to greet people. Meeting new people was never a strong suit of mine. There was always this anxiety that I built up in my head that would manifest through a slightly flushed face and nervous hands that needed distracting. It always felt good to keep my hands busy, but shaking other calloused hands at the moment wasn't the ideal distraction.
Niki shot me a confused look, but continued his introduction, "She will be working on my car for the foreseeable future."
"Clay Regazzoni," The next person had met my hand, one that was a bit more welcoming than the others, "Pleasure to meet you."
"Likewise," I shook his hand, "Sei Italiano?" You're Italian?
"Ovviamente! Parli italiano?" He asked in his native tongue. Of course! You speak Italian?
"Non bene," I laughed slightly, "Sono un po 'fuori allenamento." Not well, I'm a little out of practice.
"Non preoccuparti. Puoi esercitarti con me, a meno che questo qui- " Don't worry. You can practice with me, unless this one over here-
"Margot," Niki interrupted us as if on cue, using his head to tell me to follow, "The car."
I sent Clay a small smile as a goodbye before trailing after Niki with my personal toolbox in hand. On the way over to his car, I couldn't help but think about the list of things Niki expected me to get done today. He was very clear with me that there was no time to waste, as we've already wasted too much time. However, standing in front of his team car, I knew his list would have to wait until my list was completed. Before he could protest, he was pulled into a conversation with the what looked to be a sponsorship manager, most likely talking about what other horrendous thing they'll add to the car will be.
Just glancing at the car, I could see how Niki had gotten his people to do what he wanted, but in turn they absolutely butchered it. It looked rushed and clumsy. He had smart ideas, but the execution was a bit lackluster and sloppy, creating unnecessary, avoidable risks for what was needed.
"Clay!" I called out to the other side of the garage, "Viene qui un momento." Come here a moment.
I wanted to know what the team's car was supposed to look like and I knew his car would be the closest thing to the original. I needed to know the baseline to build it from the bolts up. I should have known that inviting over a talkative Italian meant that I'd really have to decipher my own mystery. After exchanging some pleasantries I started to wonder how long Niki would be gone. By looks of the conversation he was roped into, I had enough time to start the first thing on my list.
So while Clay helped me practice my Italian, I started inspecting Niki's car. I had learned Clay grew up in Porza, in the Canton of Ticino, part of the Italian-speaking region of Switzerland. He was friendly and welcoming, I already knew the name of his childhood dog, Enzo, and how he would always run away to his childhood crush who happened to look a lot like me. His flirtations, unbeknownst to him, were reaching a dead end. Because throughout the conversation, I could feel Niki's eyes follow my every move, ignoring the person talking to him. At first, I didn't mind it, thinking he just was watching me work. But as my conversation continued with Clay, I realized it wasn't that. Even though he was across the room I could see he looked upset. Angry almost. clearly, his current conversation bothering him enough to scowl over in my direction as he kept an eye on me.
Not long after, Clay too was roped into the conversation and I was left to my own device for the better half of the day, but so far no one who I had met at the beginning of the day even remotely offered me any help. Instead, they all brooded in the corner, as if waiting until I was finished to undo my hours worth of work. If I was thinking fairly, I don't think I would be all too pleased to watch the new person undo work months in the making. The minute I stepped away from the car I knew they'd swarm to it, not letting me get an inch in anylonger. So, the only resolution I could come up with was to muddle through it all in one go.However, the repercussions of that led to me burning the same part of my arm over and over. The first time was a stupid mistake I made while I was removing parts. I assumed the engine would be in the back, like most race cars, so when I reached in blindly the heat of the engine got me. The times following, was just out of pure laziness and frustration of the crammed pieces I was pulling apart.
Hissing again as I touched more hot metal, I could hear the few men behind me chuckle. Of course. There was always an issue. That's why I was always given the busy work, the simple fixes, the oil changes, engine cleaning, checking tire pressure, changing the air filters, anything that no one else wanted to do. So now, when I finally got my hands on something good, of course I'd have to endure the sniggering and overall lack of faith put in me. So be it.
If Niki saw them now, with idle hands, he'd be out for blood. I wanted blood. Taking a breath to refocus, I continued to work on Niki's requests. He needed a cooler cabin for starters. I tried running the pipe on the outside by the rocker panels along the sides that way they wouldn’t directly under the Niki. That would also help with a mid or rear engine, keeping the fumes and exhaust heat out would making it a lot easier once it all happening behind him. I had lost track of time trying to finagle the gas flow inside the system so it would be kept away from anything that would react badly as I shuffled things around something so simple could end up being the trickiest piece of the puzzle . I intentionally started from scratch, pulling out each piece one by one, rearranging everything, just to change it all again. It had become hours of trial and error before Niki had returned.
"Here."
"Hmm?" I hummed, not quite breaking my concentration enough to really acknowledge Niki's presence.
"Eat."
"I will in a moment," I sat on the ground with my legs crossed while I rewired some circuits.
"You said that an hour ago." Did I? An hour ago? I didn't even remember him coming back in.
Discreetly, I glanced up at the clock to see what time it was before saying, "There's really no hurry, I'll eat in a while."
"And your blister? Are you going to wait until that get's infected?"
"I wasn't," I hummed, standing up to move onto the next part of my experiment. Carefully, I clicked the circuit back into its place saying, "...but now, out of spite, I think it's a given."
"You are no good to me if you can't work."
"You'll have to get that on a plaque for me," I joked, without pulling my hands from the car, "That way when I really want to feel inspired, all I have to do is look up and read it."
"The others said you won't let them touch the car," Niki ignored me and addressed what he really came over here to say. Probably send by the others.
"Of course they did," I snorted, "At this point, I don't want them to. I'm too..."
I trailed off, refocusing more on the car and less on my surroundings. I walked around the side of the car, starting it again to see how things responded while it was running. When I saw that the circuit still weren't lighting up in the correct order I shut it down to try again.
"I do not have time for drama," Niki said like an annoyed father who was dealing with bickering teenagers.
"And you think I do?" I had no desire to entertain how I really felt about the so-called team.
"Then, tell them what to finish, and take a break before you become a lawsuit."
"It's not that simple."
"Make it simple," He said, but I only gave him a look, "Fine, I'll go make it simple."
This got me to stop, he knew that it would. So as he went to walk towards them, I said, "Don't...I'll eat the apple, but then you have to finish this how I want you to."
I started to take off my gloves like a truce. Noticing this, Niki came in my direction to switch places. However, before he did, he held out the apple, "A deal is a deal."
I swiped the apple from his hand and slumped onto the stool near the car. After rolling the apple along the side of my pants, I brought it up my mouth to take a satisfying crunch. I breathed out through my nose as I chewed and looked around the garage. The useless crowd of men, continued to look on, now with smug smirks on their lips. I had lost our nonexistent battle, I had passed the baton to Niki.
"You have changed everything," Niki said once he looked at the car. Then, he looked at me. I was positive grease littered my arms and face as earlier the towel soaked with sweat and oil became useless, "There is nothing in the car. Where are all the parts?"
"The trash," I continued to crunched on the apple obnoxiously, my frustrations obvious in each bite.
"You were supposed to fix it," Niki pinched the bridge of his nose, "Not throw everything away."
"This is fixing it," I said through a mouthful of food, "Your structure was all wrong-
"You eat like a cow," Niki said as he looked further into the car, "How am I supposed to focus with all that noise."
"The same way I did while Clay was talking to me."
"He's keen on you."
"I know." I groaned slightly, turning the apple to the other side, "He very...talkative-
"Annoying," Niki said at the same time.
"You aren't much different," I noted, before lulling my head to the side, "You haven't stopped talking to me since you got here, so be nice."
"Why?"
"Why not?" I clenched my jaw, before raising an eyebrow, "He's the only one here that thinks I'm not going to destroy the car if I touch it."
"That is not true," He tutted softly, starting to become more focused on finding his missing exhaust pipe.
"You're right, those boys over there have been nice enough to let me have the car all to myself," I spat sarcastically. I knew what he meant by his statment, but I couldn't help but bring attention to it again. Especially when the culprits were looking me dead in the eye.
"I prefer it that way," Niki stated. I realized, then, that would probably be the closest thing to a compliment from him.
---
"It's terrible, drives like a pig," Niki concluded after his first test lap.
"Oh, you can't say that," Ferrari's head mechanic whispered, looking to the side praying no one else heard him.
"Why not?" Niki asked, pulling off his gloves and helmet.
"It's a Ferrari!" His arms went up in stereotypical Italian exasperation.
"It's a shit box. It understeers like crazy, and the weight distribution is a disaster," He said, being heard clearly as his balaclava rests on his forehead. He gestured around him, “ It's amazing, all these facilities, and you make a piece of crap like this."
With hands-on his hips, the guy started to form an expression, but Niki was first to mock his attitude, "Huh?"
Niki wouldn't just accuse Ferriari for being crap if he hadn't truly meant it, but I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the exchange. During it, I sat next to the owner of the team. He was a kind old man who only knew Italian. A very wealthy man who had an affinity for cars.
"Cosa ha detto?" the old man asked. What did he say?
"Niente di importante..." I shrugged. Nothing important.
"Margot!" Niki beckoned me to the car. Pushing myself up from the chair next to the older man, I strolled over to Niki as he hoisted himself out of the car. "We need to fix the understeer and come up with something to help the weight distribution, it's shit."
"I heard," I said as I squatted down to take a look for myself. I knew I wouldn't feel it the same as when it drove, but it helped when trying to figure out how to maneuver things, "I'm not sure I can do much about the understeer without making the car illegal. Illegally though, I can do a lot."
"Certainly not," He said not appreciating my humor, "Pull the car in while I talk to him, then we'll address this."
It felt strange to get back into the car. It was like muscle memory the way I lowered my body into the cockpit-like seat. The garage was less than a few meters away, I would barely be driving the car, I could push it if I truly felt like it, which in hindsight I wish I had done. Starting it up, I slowly drove it to its place and practically ripped my body out the minute I had parked it.
The Italian weather was no longer the only thing making me sweat. Come on, get a grip. In an attempt to calm myself, I went through the steps of what I was going to do. See where the engine is housed, work on aerodynamics, put exhausts on the sides for aerodynamic design and weight considerations. Simple. Familiar. My hands were at my sides, twitching slightly any time I thought of touching it. Taking in a deep breath from my nose, I let it out through my mouth. I repeated this for a few minutes, thinking if I waited long enough, my body would respond. But anytime I went to reach out, I drew in another prolonging breath.
"Ora che facciamo parte della Ferrari, cosa ne dici se prendiamo una bevanda per festeggiare?" I jumped slightly at the sudden voice. Now that we're part of Ferrari, what do you say we grab a drink to celebrate?
"Sto bene grazie," I cleared my throat as if I was clearing my thoughts. I'm good.
"Siamo a Fiorano ormai da una settimana! In realtà qui il sole non è come Londra. C'è così tanto da festeggiare!" Clay tried to ooze his Italian charm but it wasn't working in his favor. We've been in Fiorano for a week now! there's actually sun here not like London! There is so much to celebrate!
"È stata anche una settimana in cui mi hai chiesto di uscire." I poked fun at Clay's antics, trying to lighten my own mood. It's also been a week of you asking me out.
"Funziona ancora?" He gave me a grin. Is it working yet?
"Cosa ne pensi?" What do you think?
"Come on Niki, tell her that she should grab a drink with me to celebrate," He switched to English as Niki went to brush past the two of us only to get caught in Clay's web.
"Celebrate?" Niki laughed slightly, before saying, "What is there to celebrate exactly? She doesn't drive a car. She is not apart of Ferrari. She has already declined your offer. She has work she is behind on. Must I continue?"
"Thanks, Niki," I mumbled sarcastically.
"Is that it? You won't go without him," Clay looked between the two of us, then changing his tune, "Fine, we all go! A friend of mine is having a thing this weekend, it'll be perfect."
"I'm not the social type," I said, hoping to excuse myself from the invitation, "You two enjoy yourselves."
"And you think he's the social type?" Clay pointed to Niki, "Dai, non puoi lasciarmi con lui!" Come on you can't leave me with him!
"Socialization, it's a distraction," Niki pointed his lips down and brushed him off confidently.
"Fine then, you and me, bellissima," Clay turned towards me again, "Agree to this one time and I won't ask you ever again."
"Clay," I said his name, paired with a come-on look.
"You two are all car car car, never fun fun fun," Clay threw up his hands while he complained, then held up a singular finger, "One thing, all I'm asking of you."
"Fine," I sighed, knowing agreeing would be the only way I could be left alone at the moment.
"I'll go." Niki agreed to something I never thought he would. He had his hand on his hips while the two of us gave him a look of disbelief which he only waved off with a hand before getting back to work.
