Oxterionn: Of Love and Fast Cars

After nearly an hour of getting her hair pulled and pinned and curled, and having her eyes poked with mascara, Kat was finally able to put on her dress and look in the mirror. She had been fitted for the dress several weeks before and had already forgotten what it was supposed to look like, so she was genuinely surprised when she stood in front of the mirror and saw a beautiful princess staring back at her. She looked like something out of a Disney movie, and Kat loved it.

"Tres belle, you just need a prince charming," Mlle. Charlotte said with her thick French accent as she admired Kat in the mirror.

And then, as if on cue, Gibbons knocked on the door gently and informed Kat that her ride had arrived and was waiting for her. Still caught up in the idea of the beautiful dress, Kat half expected to see Red driving a horse drawn carriage. However, when she emerged from the front door and began descending the marble steps, she found Red standing next to a different shiny black car: a Rolls-Royce Phantom. He opened the back door for her, like a proper chauffeur, and put on his black hat before getting in the driver's seat. He may not have been a prince, but he sure looked nice when he dressed for the part of chauffeur.

"Wait, you're on the wrong side," Kat said with a twinge of terror in her voice.

"Yes, this is a British car, your father had it imported from his home country and he insisted it 'look proper.' I don't mind though, I'm used to driving on this side of the car," he smiled back at her in the rear-view mirror and she slowly relaxed, realizing there was actually nothing wrong. "You look very beautiful tonight Miss Katherine, if I may say that."

Kat found herself blushing, and it surprised her. She got compliments often enough, but they were normally cordial, polite, conversational pieces; she'd never actually considered the thought that someone thought she looked beautiful, or even mildly attractive. "Thank you, and don't call me that," she laughed and he smiled back at her.

"You look like Cinderella. You know, when she went to the ball," Red glanced back at her in the mirror again and she bit her lip. This was the second time someone had called her a princess, and it only reminded her that she did not know who her prince charming was for the night.

But she would meet him soon enough, for Callum Knight was already at the ball. His mother, the European diplomat, had talked him into coming because he would get to have a beautiful young girl as a date, and that was something he liked: beautiful girls. He watched the cars as they came up the driveway and stopped in front of the grand staircase that led up to the entrance of the ball, watching for his date.

Someone nudged his shoulder and pointed to a car that had just come around the bend. "That's her father's car, she's in the one behind." His eyes quickly shifted from the white limo that apparently held her father, to the black Phantom that followed it. As the limo drove away and the black car took its place at the foot of the stairs, he walked to the top of the short flight of steps to wait for her. The driver got out of the right side of the car, which was a bit of a surprise, but he thought nothing of it. He was focused on the girl emerging from the back seat, and he completely ignored the chauffeur standing next to her opened door.

"Are you my date tonight?" She asked as she gathered herself after getting out of the car. She looked up at the man dressed in a white military uniform and he nodded. "I guess I've found my prince charming after all." She laughed and began walking up the steps toward him. But after climbing two steps, she tripped. She was only three steps from the top, so her date moved closer to help her, while at the bottom of the steps, her driver rushed forward to catch her. However, all Kat noticed was the man in white catching her before she almost fell flat on her face. Red slowly walked back to the car and, after taking one last glance at Kat and her date, he climbed in the driver's seat and quickly drove away. He tried not to, but he caught a glimpse in his rear-view mirror of the pair gliding off toward the ballroom, arm in arm.

- - -

Charlie Morris: Where to start... despite being a World Champion Formula 1 driver, he never seemed to take the sport seriously. He had a different girlfriend each time he switched teams, which could be as often as every season depending on how badly he messed up his working relationship with the team boss. Or how many times he crashed, which was probably too frequent. Or how many times he just decided not to race because it was 'too hot.' Okay, that only happened once, but Charlie was not like other drivers, and that was not necessarily bad. He had his good races and his bad races, like any other driver. He could be a sore loser, and an even worse winner. Regardless of the outcome of a race, he could most likely be found in a club or a bar or anywhere else alcohol is served. In conclusion, he was not exactly a role model.

Charlie was the kind of guy that made you wonder if he had an illegitimate child (or two) out there that he did not know about. Perhaps conceived in a slightly drunken adventure after winning a race, or even the World Championship. Whether or not these alleged illegitimate children existed, there was one person who had looked up to Charlie ever since he saw a F1 race on his grandpa's television one Sunday afternoon. This kid imagined Charlie was the dad he never had, and knew he wanted to be just like him when he grew up. Every time his dad missed a birthday, or Christmas, he thought 'Charlie's racing and couldn't make it.'

Oh yes, ten-year-old Red McLaughlin had convinced himself that British Formula 1 driver Charlie Morris was his father. When you have only met your real dad a few times at a very young age, it is easy to imagine he could literally be anyone.

Red soon got over this affliction when he realized thirteen years is not a suitable age gap between father and son, but this did not stop Red from looking up to Charlie as a father-type figure. He wanted to race, just like Charlie, and took every opportunity he could get to sit behind the wheel of a go-kart. Sometimes he would just hang around the track until the manager felt bad for him and let him take a few laps for free. He was an adorable ten-year-old boy with an infectious personality, and he learned from Grandpa that you can talk your way out of (or into) almost any situation. He soon spent most of his free time at the track, sometimes on it, sometimes helping fix the karts, or just watching. Red had caught the racing bug, and it was only getting worse.

* * *

For the first time since he started his new job, Redington felt like a chauffeur. He was the invisible person who got the occupant of the car from one place to another. He sat in the Phantom, with the engine off, absently sliding his gloved hands over the smooth leather steering wheel. He pictured them over and over, walking up those marble steps. 'I don't even want to know what they're doing right now,' he said to himself and closed his eyes, letting his head tilt back against the headrest. Sudden images from that frightful race several months ago flashed through his brain, and his eyes shot open. He blinked a few times to clear his memory of the flames and pieces of burning car. 'I need to go fast, I need to race,' he said irritably as he sat up and started the Phantom. 'But not in this car,' he thought and drove off into the night.

After the formal introductions were over, the rest of the night could begin. The 'fun part,' as Kat's date called it. They were seated at a table far away from her father, which Kat enjoyed, but very close to the bar, which her date enjoyed. She had yet to see him without a glass of scotch in his hand, his perfectly gloved hand. As she admired his white gloves, she had a faint glimpse of a memory from that evening of a black gloved hand helping her out of the car, but other than that she had no thoughts of her driver at all. And how could she, with an actual prince charming next to her all night? She glanced back up at him in his impeccable white uniform, his perfect jawline, and bright blue eyes.

"Would you like anything else to drink?" He asked and she politely declined. She looked down at her untouched glass of champagne and decided to take a sip, even though she did not like it. She scrunched up her nose as the bubbles tickled her throat.

"You don't like champagne much?" Her date laughed. "Why don't I get you something else?"

Kat thought about it before declining again. "I really shouldn't, I'm supposed to be on my best behavior for my dad's colleagues, impress them or something..." Kat trailed off and changed the subject before he could try to offer her any more alcohol. "So, Callum, you're a Lieutenant in the British Navy? What's that like; do you get to fight pirates or anything exciting?" Kat tried to laugh in a polite girly kind of way and smiled. Her image of the British Navy apparently came from Pirates of the Caribbean.

"Please, just call me Cal. And no, no pirates," he laughed and set his glass down for the first time that night. "It's a nice job. I still haven't gotten used to being called 'Lieutenant.' I've just been promoted recently, and I have no idea why, because I'm not particularly fantastic at being a sailor, and I did not have very high scores at university," he sighed, and sounded slightly resentful of that fact, "but now I get to go to fun events like this, and meet beautiful American heiress' like you."

He smiled, and his perfect, white, shining teeth almost dazzled Kat into forgetting that he had just called her an heiress. She was not really an heiress, not yet at least. She still lived at home and had everything paid for with 'daddy's credit card.' She hated being one of those girls, getting labeled as 'the rich girl' before she even had a chance to prove herself, and now her prince charming had done just that. Her face must have been showing these feelings, because he instantly tried to retract his statement as if his life depended on it.

"I mean you're like, um, American royalty or something, you're upper class, and smart, and educated- you said you were studying something like science, what was it..." he tapped his gloved fingers on the table as he frantically tried to cover his tracks and prove he had actually been listening to her and not just admiring the way her low-cut, periwinkle dress clung to her midsection.

"Environmental engineering." Kat replied in a flat tone.

"Exactly. Environmental engineering; it was on the tip of my tongue, I just couldn't quite remember. So how did you get into that field?" he asked, and Kat dove into the usual explanation she gave to everyone who asked. No, she was not pushed into it by her father. Yes, she was aware that there were not many girls in engineering. Yes, the environment had been a huge passion of hers since she was young. And no, she did not just do it because caring for the environment was 'popular' and 'trendy' or anything else like that.

"So what did your dad want you to study instead?" he asked, now looking genuinely interested. For the first time that night Cal was feeling attracted to Kat-the person, instead of Kat-the potentially large amount of money he could have access to.

"Business, like he had studied, but I'm not very good at that," Kat sighed and Callum nodded in agreement.

"I completely understand. I kind of got pushed into the Navy by my mom, because that's what my dad had done. He died when I was so young that I kind of idolized him, and I wanted to follow in his footsteps, but..." he leaned forward and his face drew in, lined with seriousness. "I sometimes feel like I'm in something way over my head. I'm pretty sure I've only gotten promoted because of my mom's influence, or because my father was an important Admiral." Callum stared into his glass while Kat watched him thoughtfully and wondered if this is what he told all the girls.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be rambling about stuff like that," he sat up and looked a little embarrassed as he self-consciously ran a hand through his perfect blond hair. "I don't even know why I told you, I guess you're so easy to talk to." He laughed nervously and looked at Kat, taking in her soft brown eyes for the first time. She may seem plain at a first glance, even all dressed up as she was tonight, but she had a quiet elegance about her that Callum couldn't ignore. She unfortunately inherited her father's English features, including dull brown eyes, and even duller brown hair. But she had her mother's delicate nose and cheekbones, which she was thankful for. However, there was something about her tone—whether it was the subtle naiveté, or the way she was not immediately interested in him—that drove Cal to find out more, and unwind the mystery behind this girl.

"Hey, do you want to step outside for a minute, get some fresh air? It's kind of stuffy in here, with all these old people," he laughed and stood up. Kat sighed and reluctantly got up after him. He held out his arm for her, and she draped her thin, gloved hand around his elbow, letting him lead her outside. He held the big glass door to the balcony open for her and let it close behind them, blocking out the bustling noise of the ball. It suddenly felt so much more intimate, just the two of them alone on this big, empty, balcony. He leaned against the railing and set his ever-present glass of scotch on it. Kat copied him (minus the glass of scotch) and carefully surveyed the well-manicured landscape below.

"How far up do you think we are?" Kat asked as she leaned over the balcony far enough to see the ground clearly.

"Maybe six meters?" Callum guessed after trying to gauge the distance. Kat looked down over the edge of the balcony at the garden far below.

"I'd love to be down there, walking in the garden, instead of up here," she gestured back toward the ball still thriving behind them.

"Yeah?" Callum got a mischievous grin and took her hand. "Then let's find a way down there." They slipped back through the big glass doors and skirted around the outside of the ballroom until they found what looked like a service exit for the caterers. Kat giggled as he helped her down a back staircase into a part of the estate they were obviously not supposed to be in. After trying a few doors, Callum found one that opened and pulled Kat through. She laughed as they appeared in the beautiful garden she had been admiring a few minutes ago from up on the balcony. Taking one last glance up toward the ball, Kat and Cal disappeared into the hedges of the garden to get lost in its twists and turns.

After exploring nearly the entire garden, Callum and Kat found a bridge over a little fish pond. They walked to the center of the bridge and looked over the edge of the railing at the fish swimming among the lily pads. Kat could not decide if they were koi fish or not, though Cal was sure they were.

"I'm a lieutenant in the navy, trust me," he joked and she laughed. "You have a lovely laugh, Kat. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"No, I don't think so," she replied hesitantly, having never actually been told that before. She smiled shyly and looked down, hoping he would not see her blushing. He carefully placed his thumb under her chin and slowly pulled her face up.

"You don't need to hide; you're beautiful," he smiled as she blushed even more. "Now, you must know that, at least. You probably see yourself in the mirror every day; you must know how beautiful you are, right?" He laughed as she started to shake her head and blushed some more. "Then that means you haven't been told enough. Girls who know they're beautiful hear it every day, but girls who are truly beautiful, like you, will always blush when they hear a compliment like that."

She turned her head slightly and her hair fell away from her face, exposing her cheek. Taking this hint, Cal leaned closer to her, and paused centimeters away from her face. He could see her heart beating faster and her pink, flushed skin. He quickly moved in those last few inches and kissed her cheek tenderly. As he pulled away she turned slowly to meet his gaze. Suddenly, and without much coordination, she jerked forward and kissed him before the moment was lost, wrapping her arms around his neck. Kat was not sure what had gotten into her, but she did not fight it. Just as Callum was beginning to respond to it, he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Katherine!" Her father's coarse accent shocked her back to reality. It was so different than Cal's refined Downton Abbey-esque accent. Callum immediately stopped and turned around. He braced himself for some kind of verbal or physical response from her father, but he was not even looking at him. Instead, Kat's father was watching her closely and he seemed mildly pleased.

"We've been looking for you, you can't run off like that." He scolded her like she was a child and grabbed her hand. "Come on, let's go."

"I'm terribly sorry, sir," Callum apologized, although he was not a bit sorry. Sorry, perhaps, that they had been interrupted so soon, but otherwise he was remorseless. However, he knew he had to get on Albert's good side, so he flashed an 'embarrassed' smile and tried to look regretful.

"Albert, nice to meet you," her father brusquely introduced himself, only glancing at Cal long enough to make eye contact, before turning back to Kat.

"But dad!" She protested as he pulled her through the garden, Callum not far behind.

"Nope, I've already called your driver, you're going home." He practically pushed her around the corner of the house and onto the gravel driveway. As they were walking toward the marble steps, where just a few hours earlier Kat had tripped and fallen into Cal's arms, they heard the sound of screeching tires followed by the unmistakable sound of a car sliding on gravel. They all tensed and held a collective breath as they waited for whatever was coming around the bend. Callum protectively moved a step closer to Kat and kept a close watch on the approaching car.

Headlights illuminated the decorative trees that lined the driveway and it became apparent that there was a car heading down the drive at impeccable speed. Kat's father tried to pull her back a few steps, but she stayed where she was with a smile twisted on her face. She knew exactly who this was, and she knew he would not hit them.

The black Oxterionn came around the last corner and into view of Kat, Callum, and her father. Red pulled the car up to Kat and stopped shortly, splashing gravel several feet away from the tires. He dutifully got out of the car, with a smirk on his face, and nodded to his employer.

"Good evening Miss Katherine!" He called to her as he opened the door for her. Kat giggled as she slipped into the car, and Red tipped his hat at a shocked Albert before getting back into the driver's seat. He revved the engine several times and took off into the night, leaving as quickly and immodestly as he had come.

"Bollocks!" Albert swore as the car sped out of sight. He chuckled tiredly and shook his head. "This is what I get for hiring a race-car driver to be my daughter's chauffeur."