My Brother's Best Friend Ch. 02

"A FIREBIRD!" I sit up and immediately cover my mouth. Shit, that was so rude.

"Don't worry Kitten. I'm awake." Shawn sighs in the dark and pulls me back down and into his embrace.

"Someone's working on a car...or something." I mutter.

I can almost feel his smile.

"Maybe we should go check it out." Shawn kisses the place right below my earlobe. A small sigh escapes my lips.

"No way. I'm staying right here with you." I turn in his arms.

The car revs again even louder this time and I swear, it's not at Chad's and we don't have any other neighbours. I look over to my monitor on the side of my bed, find my mouse and move it slightly. The screen comes alive.

"Shit it's 10:35 in the morning." I yawn.

"We slept a long time." Shawn sits up and stretches, giving a big yawn. "God I could really use a coffee."

"I could make you an espresso. I've gotten real good at it now." I tell him, laying my hand on that taught stomach and gently stroking him.

He takes my hand and kisses it and then puts it right back where it was.

"I'd love that." he nods.

Then that insistent engine again! This time ROARING and not letting up!

"Ok what the hell." I mutter, throwing my legs over the bed. "Fucking Patrick, I swear!" it has to be him. "What a jerk to be working on his jeep at this time on a Saturday!"

Shawn just chuckles and leaps out of bed with such grace, I swear he's about to execute one of those insane forward flips I've seen him do, seemingly with zero effort.

"Here." he comes around to my side of the bed, pulling me up with both hands. "I wanna see what the commotion is."

"Shawn...my family!" I suddenly realize. "If they see us come down the stairs together..."

"You leave that up to me Birthday Girl." he says softly and pulls me into a kiss.

Another rev and another.

"Ok this is getting ridiculous." I say, only slightly pulling away from Shawn's lips.

"Come on." he takes my hand and leads me to my door, opening it we walk down the hall together and I take a deep breath as we descend the stairs.

Mom and Dad are in the kitchen, sipping coffee and staring expectantly at the stair case. I turn 100 shades of red when we come down them, my hand in Shawn's.

"Well well well....if it isn't the birthday girl. At last." my dad says. Coming over to kiss my cheek. He looks over at our hands, fingers laced together. Shawn's dwarfing mine, and he smiles.

"Shawn." my dad nods up at my lover, my boyfriend.

"Mr. Jaxton." Shawn nods back.

Dad practically spits his coffee into his cup.

"Mr. Jaxton?" Dad starts to laugh and once he starts he can't stop. And soon I am laughing and Mom and Shawn.

"Shit." Dad runs a hand through his auburn hair, the same colour as my brother's, just Dad's is now flecked with grey. "You haven't called me that since you were 7."

"It seemed appropriate, under the circumstances, Sir." Shawn replies. Bringing up our joined hands and kissing mine.

"Yes...this is quite a development. Sir even! HA! You hear that Krissy?" he looks over his shoulder.

My mom is smiling softly. Her eyes are warm with a hint of amusement. Wow, they are taking this so much better than I thought they would!

And then that engine again!

"Well who the hell could that be?" Mom stalks over to the front door and throws it open.

The full light of the June sun comes beaming in, almost blinding me. Shawn pulls me forward and we follow my mom and dad out to the foyer.

Out in the driveway is Patrick. He's sitting in the driver's seat of a magnificent black Trans Am Turbo! 2nd generation. 1981. T top! It's incredible! He's revving the engine! He looks to be enjoying himself.

'What a shit!' I think to myself. 'He goes and gets himself my favourite vintage car! SAME YEAR EVEN! Ugh...jerk!'

Patrick stops revving the vehicle when he sees me in the doorway, his smile is huge and he cuts the motor. Taking the keys with him as he steps out of the car.

"Bout damn..." and then he sees Shawn. No shirt, standing beside me, holding my hand.

"Uh...Shawn...buddy....what are you doing here?" he walks up the driveway, burning a hole in our joined hands with his eyes. I try to pull away but Shawn holds me tight.

My brother Pat isn't short, but Shawn towers over all of us in the doorway. Pat glances from me to his best friend to our hands and over to our mom and dad. A myriad of emotions playing over his features.

"Hay Pat." Shawn says, reaching up to rub his shoulder with his free hand, somewhat awkwardly.

Patrick meets Shawn's eyes and stares into them. No expression. Just this stare, for an excruciatingly long moment. Shawn doesn't look away, in fact his eyes are just as hard. And then Pat smirks. And then the smirk is a smile, a knowing smile. He looks down at me and shakes his head.

"So, you finally asked her out." he says quietly, nodding to Shawn, emphasizing the word finally.

My parents and I all let out the breath we didn't realize we were holding.

"Hell of a time to do it man!" Patrick punches Shawn's arm, laughing.

Shawn grins and grabs Patrick in a one handed hug, quickly releasing him.

"I would have asked you and your parents' blessing but..." he trails off.

"But we don't live in the 1300's?" Patrick finishes with a smile and a shrug.

"Little Cat." Pat smiles down at me.

Shawn releases my hand so I can hug my big brother.

"You're not mad?" I whisper in his ear.

Patrick kisses my cheek, "Nope." and then he smiles, huge. "I'd rather you be with this big lug than any other asshole guy in this fuckin' town!" he elbows Shawn in the side.

"Patrick watch your mouth!" Mom exclaims.

"Sorry Mom. For real though...Shawn's my best friend. And a stand up man." he glances up at Shawn and lays a hand on his shoulder. "But if he hurts you...I'll kill him." he grins at Shawn, all teeth.

"No fuckin way. Never." Shawn mutters looking down at me, "Sorry Mrs. Jaxton." he looks over apologetically at Mom.

"Mrs. Jaxton?" she laughs, looking over at her husband, who shrugs and smiles at his wife.

"Shit..." Patrick gasps, remembering something. "Here. Happy Birthday baby sister." and he kisses my cheek again as he holds out a set of car keys with a big Firebird emblem on the tags.

"What?" I stand there, mouth open, staring at Patrick. Then past him to the gleaming, shining, ultra black trans am in the driveway. It has a black matte firebird on the hood. Noticeable but not in your face. "1981. Second generation. Turbo." I whisper. "Damn T top!" I sigh.

"Your favorite." Pat says, pushing me forward.

"She knows cars!" Shawn grins, as he and Patrick usher me over to heaven.

"He's...beautiful..." I whisper...gliding my hand along it's curves.

"He?" Patrick wrinkles his nose.

Shawn bumps my brother's shoulder with his, "Everything is a he. Remember? Even her ponies." he reminds Pat.

"How the hell do you remember stuff like that from our childhood?" Pat remarks back, eyebrows raised.

"It was the best time of my life Pat, our childhood. Well, until now." Shawn swings his eyes back over to me as I am stroking this car like it's a cat.

It's so dark, I didn't know they made paint this black and this glossy. It's not original but I couldn't care less. Especially considering how dang beautiful the paint job was. A master craftsman did this. No doubt about it. Kripes, I bet my family paid a mint! That matte black screaming chicken on the hood, contrasting with the glossy black of the rest of the body, looks slick as shit. DEFINITELY not original. And again, I love it so much I don't even care.

The interior is for sure original. Yet it looked brand new, like the car was made 2 years ago. Not 40 years ago! Tan leather. Exactly what I always wanted. As much as I love black, it's all I wear after all, I also like not roasting to death in the California heat. How in the hell did they find such a perfectly preserved interior? The tan looks great against all that gorgeous darkness. Timeless. Sexy.

I glance over at my 1991 Ford Thunderbird. The body was a mess of patches badly needing to be ground down. It was red. Not really my colour but it was all they had at the used car dealership Dad took me to when I got my license. Still, I rebuilt the engine myself. And did most of the patching. Dad helped me put a whole new transmission in there and we fixed the front wheel bearing and hub assembly together. I'm sure there was an axle shaft or two that I replaced as well. I had every intention of wrenching on that thing until it looked new again. I figured cars are kinda like computers: chassis, power supplies, engines. How hard could it be? Two years later and I've learned more than I ever thought possible!

I drift into a memory of that day in used car lot:

"Your first car should be a piece of shit." Dad explained. "You're still learning. You're going to make some mistakes. You don't want to make mistakes in your dream car honey. Even just scratching up the door, you know. You'd be so upset with yourself. Besides, when you do get your dream car it'll be that much better. You'll have a basis for comparison. You'll appreciate it more. Be patient. Trust your dad ok? Have I ever steered you wrong?" he jokes, grinning, showing that winning Jaxton smile. No kidding Mom fell for him.

"Funny joke Dad." I mutter. "Ok. I'll just be grateful I'm getting a car at all!" I exclaim, not wanting to be a brat about this, turning away from the blue 1979 Pontiac Firebird 3rd generation. "Thanks."

"Thatta girl." Dad says hugging me, kissing the top of my head. "That's my baby."

"So, was it everything you dreamed it would be?" Dad's right behind me, breaking me out of my reverie. He hugs me around my shoulders and kisses the top of my head.

"You planned all this?" I whisper, laying my chin on my dad's big, burly hands. Rock climbing hands, machinist's hands.

"Well your mother and your brother were there every step of the way." Dad tells me. "And Shawn." he adds, glancing over at him.

"But yea, it was totally Dad's idea, Cat." Patrick puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezing me, letting me go just as quick.

"Daddy..." my voice cracks, and then I start to sob. I've always been an ugly crier.

"Awww....honey..." Mom puts her arms around me and Dad. "Baby bear..."

"I turn in Dad's arms and sob into his shirt.

"Damn, I thought she'd be happy." Pat says, dashing away a tear, trying to make a joke.

Through tears, I peek around my dad, Shawn's eyes catch mine and they're glassy. But he looks away.

"Damn this is emotional." Shawn says at last, looking back at me, fighting tears. He's failing. Two slip down his cheek.

I sigh. And so does Dad.

"Ok enough of this bullshit." Dad says, holding me at arms length now, wiping his eyes on his shirt. "Get in. Let's go for a rip, as you kids say."

"Right now?" I ask, almost jumping up and down in excitement, wiping my face, still kinda crying.

"You betcha, getcher shoes on. Honey, you coming with us?" Charles looks at his wife expectantly as she closes her housecoat tighter around herself, pressing the fluffy collar to the corners of her eyes.

"Charles, I'm not even dressed. Take the boys. I don't know about Shawn but Patrick and you can sit in the back." Mom says, drying her eyes.

"It's pretty cramped back there." Patrick laughs. "Hell, I don't care let's go!"

I'm already in the house, running into the laundry room, tearing off my sweaty hoodie and pulling on one of Pat's t shirts, folded neatly on the dryer. I don't even care about my pajama pants but I'll die in the summer heat with that hoodie on.

I round the corner and grab my wallet with my ID, the sandals of my dad and brother and slip on a pair of my skateboarding shoes and then remember...Shawn...his shoes are still on the back porch. I head into the kitchen to grab them and there he is, pulling on that white t shirt from yesterday.

"I hear you, little Kitten." he turns, a wolfish grin on his face. "You gonna show me your skills? Pat's been telling me that you've been a bad kid, while we've been away at university." he cocks his head to the side. "Really Feline? Going with your dad to the illegal racing track?"

"Uh..." I stammer, standing there with my family's sandals. "Pat's a gossiper." I laugh.

"Liar." he comes over to me and pulls me into him. Fuck, he's strong.

"What made you so interested in cars?" he asks, laying a sweet kiss on my forehead. I grab his hand and lead the way out of the house.

"I dunno. Dad got me that piece of shit Thunderbird and it needed a lot done. I only work part time at Luna Coffee Bar. I couldn't afford the mechanics bills." We're standing in the foyer as Shawn pulls his Chucky T's on and laces them.

When he stands he takes my hand. "I've never met such a cool chick." he says, looking sincerely into my eyes. In the sunlight, I can see flecks of blue and black and light green in them.

My turn to laugh. "Cool is the last word I'd use to describe myself. Come on Shawn! Let's go, let's go!"

"Ok ok!" he laughs as I insistently pull him behind me, skipping over to my new car. Patrick and Dad are already in the rear seats. Just barely. I smirk, handing them their shoes.

"Dad should really be shotgun." I say, looking over and up Shawn.

"He'd never fit honey. We barely fit. Get in!" Dad says, giving the come hither sign.

I look down at my right hand with the keys to this magnificent beast. That Firebird emblem looking fierce and beautiful. A terrible sense of naughtiness comes over me.

'O I'll show you skills Shawn. Then you can take me on that bike ride and show me yours.'

I look up at him again. He kisses my cheek and heads over to the passenger side.

"Honey! Get in!! What are you waiting for?" Dad's impatient voice.

"I don't know!" I laugh and I don't even open the door, I vault over it Dukes of Hazzard style and slide into the soft, tan leather seats like I'd done it all my life.

"Shit!" all three of them say at once.

"You've done that once or twice." Shawn chuckles.

I don't tell him that was my first time. Lots of first times in the last 24 hours. I think I've just watching him and my brother at gymnastics practice so much, maybe a little of their athletics has rubbed off on me over the years. Either that or I'm beyond excited and can't contain myself. Yea, probably that!

I slide my hands over the steering wheel. Damn but he is in pristine condition. No aging. No cracking or yellowing anywhere. Someone had this in a museum! I glance down at the stick shift. Now THIS was custom.

"Dad?" I question.

"Don't ask me Feline. Ask..." Dad trails off. He clears his throat and laughs. "Ask your man there."

I blush like crazy when I look over at Shawn, because Pat is right in my peripheral vision behind his best friend and he's smirking over at me.

"You like it? Pat and I went to a car show and yea, there it was." He lays his hand on mine and brings it over to the stick, it makes a click sound and Shawn pushes down hard, giving it a twist sharply. The pommel makes a pop sound, I feel it loose in my hand and pull up.

"Holy shit!" I exclaim, covering my mouth.

The pommel is made of blown glass. Textured where it needed to be, for grip. Inside the clear glass is a black cat with blue eyes, sitting, with it's tail curled around itself, looking very satisfied. At it's feet lay fish heads with bones attached and birds' skeletons. I smile.

"The bodies of your enemies." Shawn nods. "Like in those RPG's you like to play."

"The cat is me?" I laugh. Fuck is this ever cute. Cute and clever. I don't know what to say.

"Duh!" Pat chuckles from the back.

The most impressive part of the pommel is that attached to the underside, where the locking mechanism is, is a blade. A dagger in fact. About 5 inches long. I don't need to check the edge. I can tell. It's deadly sharp.

"So no one fucks with my girl." Shawn whispers, taking my hand and making a slashing motion with it. Then he places it back into the stick shift housing and presses down, twisting the pommel back into position with a click. "Button's on my side." he brings my index finger down to the spot. I press it, it makes a click. I try the motion myself, press down hard and twist. It comes loose! I replace the pommel again and lock it. The click is satisfying.

"Damn." I smile and then I turn in the drivers seat and hug Shawn so tight. He kisses the top of my head.

"I love it!" I say, way too loudly. "You guys are the best. ALL OF YOU! Thank you! So much!"

I turn to every man in my car. My eyes threaten tears again.

"Baby Bear, we're gonna roast to death if you don't start the car and take us somewhere!" Dad says.

"RIGHT!" I turn in my seat.

"Hope you have your seatbelts on cuz...well..." I put the key in the ignition and close my eyes. He turns over immediately. Roaring to life with a vengeance. I sit for a minute. Listening to the motor, listening to the timing. He's running like a top. Perfect. I can't hear a single thing missing. Is there a motor that is probably brand new under that hood? Rebuilt to perfection, at the very least. Judging by the odometer mileage that reads 260. 260 miles???

I gun the engine once. "Oh that's satisfying!" I exclaim and the men in my car laugh.

Then I press the clutch, let the e brake off, take my shiny pommel in hand and throw it, expertly, into reverse.

I peel out of the driveway and onto our small street of two houses, braking fast. Then I clutch, stepping on the accelerator and I slam my new ride into first gear, and we take off, tires squealing! Shawn punching the air and yelling YEA!

I take my guys on a crazy ride up into the foothills. I know just the place to maybe do a couple donuts to impress my boyfriend with. Boyfriend...

I glance over at Shawn and my brother as they smash their knuckles together over the head rest of the passenger seat. Congratulating each other on a job well done. Fuck, I have the best family on the planet.

Dad tells me to take a left at the fork. He doesn't know that's the way I was going anyways.

"Show Shawn and Pat what you've learned." Dad nods at me in the rear view mirror.

I smirk and take the corner stupidly fast, clutching and tapping the breaks like Dad taught me, smoking my tires as the guys yell and laugh their asses off. I brake.

"WHOA!" Pat says, amazed. "Shit Sis..."

I throw my car into reverse again and back up and do a 360 in the middle of the road. Then I clutch, gas and shift us forward again back down the way we came.

Shawn's elated and tells me I'm amazing.

I glow under his praise.

Then I take them to the abandoned highway down the side of the foothills. The place where illegal street racing happens. Drifters I guess you'd say. The curvy road is covered in black tire marks from all kinds of burnouts and races.

Dad gets the guys to get out of the car and takes them to the make shift stands on the side of the hill.

"Giver hell honey." my Dad kisses my cheek.

I am free! Just me and my trusty steed. He needs a name. Gotta find a name for him. Nothing cliche or obvious...

I race down the road a far ways and stomp the clutch and brake, spinning around 180 degrees. I hear Pat and Shawn yelling.

I sit there. Revving this gorgeous car's engine. Just...listening to him purr. Stroking all the places I didn't want to in front of my loved ones.

And then I decide to give my family and my boyfriend a show.

"Ready boy? I know you're not exactly the kind of car that is traditionally used for drifting but, just this one time ok? Then I won't ask you for awhile."

"Let's do this." I whisper, pressing in the clutch, shifting into first gear and revving the engine getting it up to at least 800RPM. Then I dump the clutch and immediately press on the brake and my tires start screaming and smoking out the whole place, then I pop the brake and I'm fired forward like a damn rocket.