Dixie could see the frustration etched on Nicky's face as he wheeled the Team 76 motorcycle into the garage and angrily put the kickstand down, climbing off the now-silenced bike and practically leaping off the machine.

He yanked off his helmet and gloves and Dixie could see him having a heated conversation with Cade before storming out of the garage, leaving his equipment behind. Dixie set off after him, and saw him look right and then left out of the garage area, and then focused on a throng of reporters swarming around Rossi's garage, who was also testing on the track prior to qualifications the following afternoon.

Dixie could practically read Nicky's mind and ran to put herself in his path, his long strides eating up the ground. "Don't," she said by way of greeting, putting her hand on his chest to stop him.

He looked down at her with a grim expression. "Move."

"No."

"Dixie, I'm not in the fucking mood," he growled and she shoved him harder with her hand, keeping him in place.

"Don't go talk to the press right now," she said, her tone low but authoritative. "I know you want to bitch to someone who will listen about the crappy ride, but don't go talk to the press. You'll regret it."

"How do you know? And how did you know what I was going to do?" Nicky shot back, his eyes still locked on the reporters.

"This ain't my first rodeo, remember, cowboy?" Dixie said. "Don't dog your team to the press. They'll get it together, so just blow this off or the press will blow it out of proportion."

"I can't," Nicky said, but he reluctantly turned away from the throng and began walking towards the infield.

"Sure you can," Dixie said easily, falling into step with him. "Can I ask you a question?"

"I guess," Nicky said sullenly.

"Are you having any fun?"

"Am I having fun?" Nicky echoed, sounding annoyed.

"Yeah, are you having any fun today?"

"Um, no," Nicky said evenly. "No fun here. Why?"

"I think you need to find some fun," Dixie said, completely serious. "I've been back with the team and you for days now, and I haven't seen you have any fun, or be even remotely happy to be on the bike even one time. Is your ankle hurting that badly?"

"No."

"Is your helmet squeezing your head too tight and depriving your tiny pea brain of oxygen?"

Nicky bit back a grin, wanting to hang on to his previous anger. "No."

"Well, then..." Dixie said as though she'd made a grand point. "You need to find some fun, because you sure as hell aren't doing it on the track, and if you ride like that in quals or in the race, you're going to be in the litter and you know it. You need to get your head on straight, cowboy. Like, now."

Nicky stopped and looked at her for a long moment, his eyes searching hers. After several seconds Dixie squirmed uncomfortably. "You're either plotting my demise or..."

"Can you be ready in an hour?"

"Ready for what?"

"To find the fun," Nicky said with a sly grin. "You suggested it, so you have to follow through in helping me find the fun."

"I would like to stress this fun should not be illegal or immoral in any way," Dixie backpedalled and Nicky laughed.

"Just be at my coach in an hour," Nicky said, looking happier now. "One hour, and don't be late!" he called over his shoulder, jogging into the garage area again.

**

"I thought this wasn't fun for you," Dixie said dubiously, fifty nine minutes later when she walked up to Nicky's coach and found him astride a black and red Honda street motorcycle.

"No, getting beat going around the track by other riders while on a piece of crap bike wasn't fun. Riding on German roads with lax speed limits and with a cute, albeit slightly kidnapped, girl on the back? Hell yeah, that's fun, so hop on, trainer," Nicky said, handing her a helmet with pink and black swirls on it.

Dixie was glad she was already wearing jeans and sturdy shoes, but noted that she didn't have a leather jacket handy. A few seconds later, Nicky handed her one of those and she laughed out loud. "Who the hell did you boost the equipment from?"

"One of the mechanics brings his road ride to every race, and his girl comes to almost every race too and they like to go riding at night after the day is done. She has the flu and is back home, and he needs to tune the shit out of my engine before quals or I'll kick his ass, so we made a deal for the day. This is mine, and the gear is yours," Nicky said with a grin. "Wanna get out of here and get lost?"

Dixie smiled and nodded, pulling the helmet over her auburn locks. "Let's avoid race speed for a while, yeah?"

"Yeah, right," Nicky said, flicking the visor down on his own helmet. "Let's have some fun."

**

Dixie actually hooted out loud as Nicky sped past another car, weaving expertly in and out of traffic on the autobahn, their speedometer registering higher than Dixie would have felt safe doing on her own, but on the bike with Nicky in control, her arms around his waist, she felt... free.

Giddy, even.

She had actually, literally felt the tension melt from Nicky's shoulders and back as they had navigated away from the infield and through the security checkpoint with no one the wiser as to who was leaving the track on a regular street bike with a girl on the back.

Within minutes, the pair of them were on the autobahn, under a sunny sky with light traffic, no agenda and absolutely no where they were expected to be until at least the first qualifying round tomorrow.

Communicating solely with hand gestures, they happily sped along for several hours, until Nicky finally found an exit and turned onto a winding, two lane road. They cruised along, a river on one side, full green trees on the other, the smell of the country around them as they leaned into turns and zipped along the straight bits. Eventually, Dixie signaled that she was thirsty, and Nicky nodded, steering them into a gasthaus on the side of the road, it's gardens lush and with picnic tables scattered all around the property.

Dixie was still grinning as she tugged the pink helmet off and unzipped the leather jacket. "That was..."

"Yeah," Nicky agreed, himself with a wide grin as he took off his own helmet. "Something to eat and drink?" he asked, strapping the helmets onto the seat for them both.

"Sure," she said easily. "Get me whatever you're getting."

"Easy enough," he said, striding into the pub and returning to find her at the furthest picnic table available, situated across a grassy meadow nearest the wild gardens at the back of the property . Nicky carried the tray laden with hefty sandwiches and two small beers, as well two bottles of water over to where she sat, looking out at the view of the fields around them.

They dug in hungrily, soaking in the sunshine and not needing to talk until they were both fully satiated.

"This is fun," Nicky said, sipping his beer and looking at her. "Are you... are you having fun?"

"Definitely," Dixie said with a smile. "It's been a long time since I've gone that kind of speed on a bike."

"Were you scared?" Nicky asked seriously, hoping to God he'd never made her felt afraid or unsure.

Dixie thought, and then shook her head. "Not even once. I think because it was you, you know?"

"You figure I know what I'm doing, huh," Nicky said teasingly.

"Yes, that..." Dixie trailed off, knowing she was wading into dangerous territory. "And I trust you."

"About that..." Nicky said, sitting up straighter, and Dixie silenced him with a waved hand.

"We don't have to do this. The last few days, working together again and talking like civilized humans, it's been nice. Let's not..."

"Fine, let's not except to say this... I don't trust a lot of people in my life, and the women in it even less, but I trust you, Dixie Colson. And you have to know that by now," he said, his tone completely serious, his eyes locked on hers.

She nodded, her eyes soft. "I do, and I know how hard that is for you, but I really do know it now."

"And I'm... my feelings for you haven't' changed. Yours might have, and that's okay, but mine haven't, but if you want me to knock it off and leave us the way we are, just say the word. I'll respect whatever, however you feel about..." Nicky trailed off, not sure what else to say, insteading choosing silence.

Dixie deliberately kept her mouth shut, and he gave her a small, shy half smile.

"But I know you're still scared of something," Nicky prodded and she nodded slowly.

"Soon," she said, the only answer she felt she could give. "Okay?"

"Okay," he said easily, looking out at the fields again, a smile playing about his lips.

Dixie wondered if the other people at the gasthaus could see the sparks she felt were flying between the two of them. Every gesture, every brush of their legs, every time their eyes met, it was like a lightning bolt between shooting between the two of them.

Who would have thought a cowboy from Wyoming could twist her up this way and make her feel like this?

They continued to drink their beers, the conversation dipping and dancing, covering the future of the ranch and ranching in general, Cade and Jackie's long term over-under chances, Malcolm Gladwell's books and the chances of the Cubs ever making a world series.

It reconfirmed for Dixie what she already knew – underneath the shy exterior, Nicky was well read, informed, opinionated and surprisingly funny.

It also reconfirmed for Nicky what he already knew – she was just as witty, sparkling and entertaining as he'd thought, but he thought she looked even prettier today with helmet-hair and pink cheeks than he had ever seen her.

And when she smiled at him...

The sky began to sink into the western sky and they both reluctantly agreed they should be returning to the track and to reality. Nicky bussed their table, then gently took Dixie's hand as they walked slowly back across the meadow to where the motorcycle was waiting, his thumb tracing a pattern against her skim. He climbed on the bike; she followed, and snugged herself against his back, her arms twining around his waist. He gunned the engine, and they both were still smiling as the road disappeared underneath them again.