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Chapter Text

2022 would be Beth’s fifth season in Formula 1. Her contract had ended with Williams, and Mercedes offered a new one, for one season only on a do-well-and-get-a-new-one kind of basis. 

Lewis met her in the hangar at Heathrow, where his jet was stored. Beth handed off her case to a flight attendant, and followed him up the stairs. 

“What did you get up to this break?” Lewis asked, as they sat down. They were going to Bahrain a week earlier than required, though it was almost expected, so everyone could be well-rested and timezone-adjusted before the first race of the season. Of course, training and gym sessions had started weeks ago, but there was something comforting about the fact that they would start to see the other drivers before being in the paddock on testing day one. 

She needed to be away from home, anyway. And since she’d told Mercedes when she would be arriving, her schedule was beginning to fill up.

“Oh, not a lot, I avoided anything to give the PR team a bad start to my contract,” Beth grinned, and Lewis sighed, chuckling to himself. “Where do we stay in Bahrain?”

“There’s this hotel I love, it’s like 5 minutes away from the track; it’s popular with loads of the drivers, so we’ll probably run into the Ferrari or Red Bull guys there too.”

“We’ve got a lot of press to do tomorrow,” Lewis’ manager said, sitting down across from the two of them, as they were an hour out from Bahrain. “Annabelle is meeting us there,” he said, referring to Beth’s manager. He ran through the schedule, listing interviews, activities and games they were being signed up for. 

Some were optional, and others weren’t, because the whole grid had to do them. Grill the Grid was one of them, which Beth had missed the previous year. When they both refused the Lie Detector test, the request was denied. 

“At least one of you has to do it.”

Lewis looked at her, a cheeky smile on his face. 

“Yeah, okay, I’ll do it, seniority rules and all that,” Beth groaned. “Just let it be known I really don’t wanna do this.”

***

Beth debated whether or not to head to the hotel restaurant for breakfast, trying to decide if she wanted to deal with other people so early in the morning. But it had been a while since she’d interacted with so many people, so before there were shit loads of cameras in her face, she should probably get used to it again. 

She put her headphones in, and headed downstairs and into the restaurant. Unfortunately, Lewis wasn’t there, that would have been easy. But Carlos waved her over, and she took the empty seat next to him, facing Charles.

“Morning,” she said,  and a waiter appeared, pot of coffee in hand. 

“Good morning,” Carlos said, and there was something in how he couldn’t sit still that betrayed his excitement for the season. His energy was palpable, and they chatted animately about the day, and the race weekend not too far away. Charles, still half-asleep at the table, made barely any noise, just observed. 

He started to wake up and join in once he had a couple of espressos, turning into the usual Charles she saw at the track. Evidently, he wasn’t much of a morning person. Carlos had endless energy, and they talked about the circuit, the calendar, the sprint weekend coming up. 

As they ate, she caught the glances at them from others in the restaurant. She ignored the judgement, but she couldn’t ignore some of the looks she was getting from Charles. Max had said over the winter break that Charles had broken up with his girlfriend, but Beth didn’t date. She never had, focusing all her energy on getting into Formula 1, and then keeping her seat and progressing. 

Lewis walked into the restaurant, and made his way over to their table, but didn’t sit down. “Morning guys,” he grinned. “Beth, you ready to head out?”

“Yeah, just a second,” she said, downing the remainder of her coffee. “See you at the track later, yeah?” she said to Carlos and Charles. They both nodded, and Beth could feel their eyes on her as she and Lewis walked out, and down to the parking garage underground. Maybe she looked different from last year, or maybe something about her in a Mercedes team shirt gave them a little more to look at. She’d dyed her hair since last year, switching out the brunette for blonde - maybe that was just a surprise and that’s why they stared? 

Feelings and speculation aside, time to get her head in the zone for almost a whole day of media and interviews. 

***

They went for their interviews and Mercedes press filming the next day, and Beth was carted off for the lie detector video.

“Good luck,” Lewis said, clapping her shoulder. “Give them hell.”

She smirked, waving at him as she walked away. She got hooked up to the machine, wires connecting her to the machine. 

“Let’s do the basic questions first to set this up. I need yes or no answers,” the interviewer said. She nodded. 

“Is your name Bethany Sanderson?”

“Yes.”

“Are you 22 years old?”

“Yes.”

“Do you drive for Mercedes?”

“Yes.”

The operator of the lie detector machine, Danny, was nodding, and Beth smiled as the camera zoomed in on her face. 

“Are you happy with your Mercedes contract?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” she replied, still smiling. 

“And now for the longer answers,” the interviewer continued. “Since 2018, you’ve had three teammates, and now about to have a fourth. Who has been your favourite teammate?”

“So far, George Russel, I think. With Pierre it was very competitive, almost too much so for one team. George and I at Williams, it was more about the team, and being the best we could be to try and get into the points.”

“Where do you anticipate Lewis ending up in your rankings?”

Beth raised a brow. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out.” Danny shook his head, looking at the lie detector. “I anticipate it being a good year, and a good team pairing,” she tried again, and the machine seemed to like her answer this time. 

As the interview went on, she started to figure out the machine, and the kinds of questions being asked of her. It wasn’t the standard interview, it was designed to be invasive. Designed to push her and give the fans the kind of answers they wanted. 

“Are you currently looking for a relationship?” 

“No.”

“Anyone on the grid interest you in terms of a relationship?”

Beth laughed. “No, definitely not.” 

“She’s telling the truth,” Danny confirmed. 

The interview went on, and whilst she was trying to guard herself and her answers, she had a good time. 

“And, the final question,” the interviewer said, putting down his notecards. “Did you, at any point, lie during this interview, and we didn’t catch you?”

Beth raised a brow. She paused, drumming her fingers on the table. “Yes,” she smirked. Danny nodded, the machine telling them she was telling the truth. She winked at the camera, then started stripping the pads from her body. 

She left the interview room, pulling on her hat, and found her way to the next set of interviews, where the whole grid was sitting around one table. Beth was the last one to arrive, and slid into her seat beside Lewis. 

“Okay, as a heads-up before the cameras turn on,” someone shouted, and all the drivers quieted down. “We are playing never have I ever. We will read out a prompt, and you all have two cards in front of you. Hold up, I Have if you have done the thing, and Never if you have not. It’s easy enough. We want to see everything, so please feel free to react to others if they shock you with their answers or call them out if you think they’re lying.”

Beth rolled her eyes at Carlos, and he grinned back. 

“Okay, let’s start easy. Never have I ever posted a topless selfie.”

A lot of the drivers said I have, and when Carlos tried to change his answer, Beth scoffed, and pulled her phone out, brows raised. 

“Ay, vale, okay,” Carlos grumbled, and Lando elbowed him. 

“You must have, no?” Pierre asked Beth, and she pulled a face. 

“No, the press would have a field day with it. Bikini, yes, tits out, no.” 

“Bethany, please, the camera,” the interviewer said, and she put up a hand in apology. The others tried to conceal their laughing. 

“Never have I ever regretted a haircut.”

“Ay everyone, no?” Carlos grinned, and almost everyone held up I have. Only Charles and Beth held up Never. 

“Really?” Max asked, raising his brows at Beth. 

“Nah, I didn’t ever cut my hair until I was 16, and then it’s been like this since pretty much,” she replied, and then she looked at Charles. “You?”

“My mum cuts my hair,” Charles smiled. “Could never be unhappy.”

Beth stopped paying attention properly after a while - a full day of incessant questions and silly videos filmed for the F1 fanbase was tedious, and she knew anything she said could be clipped into gif or become a rumour. She’d had her fun with the lie detector, and now needed to behave. 

Once they’d finished the game, Beth and Lewis were sent to their garage - finally - to begin the meetings about the car and the season. She knew most of the other teams had more press, but the benefit to working with Lewis Hamilton was that he didn’t want to do press, and therefore Beth had less than normal too. 

They went together to get food from Mercedes hospitality, and chose a table in the corner. 

“You happy with the how the car’s been?” Lewis asked, and Beth nodded. 

“Yeah, I mean it’s got power, the engine feels good compared to Williams last year, so hopefully, I can do better and get a podium this year.”

Lewis raised a brow. “You didn’t have a podium before?” 

Beth shook her head, smirking a little. “You don’t have to act so surprised. I don’t know why Toto wanted me so badly either.”

“I can see why - you drive that car like it’s the one you’ve always been driving, despite how different it must be.”

“I didn’t know if they were going to have me, it all happened so late,” Beth admitted, and she suddenly remembered the conversation they’d had four years ago. 

“Why? You must have been talking about this for a while before the end of the season?”

She shrugged. “We had all these conversations about ensuring I would keep the FIA and the stewards off my back; I think they were concerned about whether I was going to be a safe decision or not.”

Lewis shook his head in disbelief. “Is it because of the protesting, right? The FIA have been coming at me about it, but fuck them. They can’t stop you.”

“Toto’s not seen my helmet yet,” she grinned, and Lewis laughed. They had fallen into such easy friendship so quickly, but they both knew it might not last once the season got going. But, depending on how the actual practice session went, would see what sort of the competitive relationship they would end up having. Beth had watched how his 2016 season had gone, whilst she was in F3. Seen the competition ruin a friendship. She’d managed to have a good relationship with him so far in her F1 career, but she was also never fighting for the top spots, moreso fighting just to be in the points whilst at Williams, and she’d been so young, so overewhelmed whilst at Toro Rosso. 

The press had certainly forced her to grow up quickly

“Good. Never let any of them silence you.”

After lunch, they headed to the garage, getting ready to get into the car, and out onto track. Rumour had it around the paddock that Williams hadn’t brought their car, that it was still being built. 

She got warmed up, stretching out, and she started the same pre-drive routine she’d always had. She did all the things in the same order, tying her shoes the same way and doing everything left first, and then right. It was tiny little routines like that which helped her focus. 

Someone handed her helmet over, and she grinned at the sight of it. She had the women’s rights symbol on the helmet, a pride flag, and across the back of her helmet read end discrimination. She pulled the helmet on, and got straight into the car. 

“Radio check, Beth.”

“Loud and clear, ready to drive.”

“Let’s get as much out of this car as we can, learn as much as we can please.” 

Beth drove like hell around the circuit, pulling everything she could from the car, and though there were a few small technical issues, overall, the performance was good. She performed in the top five, with Charles, Max, Lewis, and Carlos. 

They debriefed as a team after, fixing a couple of balance issues, but they had run out of time for that day’s testing session. 

“We’ll regroup tomorrow, everyone in the garage at 10:30 please,” Toto said, calling everyone’s attention. “Beth, Lewis, got a second before you leave?”

The two of them followed Toto into his office in the back of the motorhome, and Lewis snagged two bottles of water from the table on the way past. As they sat in his office, he passed one over, and Beth smiled. 

“Okay, honestly, opinions on the car today? No diplomacy, straight to it,” Toto said, and Beth took a drink from her bottle, looking pointedly at Lewis. 

Lewis rolled his eyes at her. “I don’t think it’s as balanced as 2020, and the corner speed is difficult, but it’s something we can work on over the next sessions.”

“And Beth? First time in the car on a track, what are you’re thoughts?”

“Felt pretty good today, but I don’t know what you’re other cars have been like, of course. Compared to the Williams, it’s a beautiful drive, the handling feels alright. Little stiff on the gear change I think, but it should be alright.”

“Totally honest, we’re happy with the performance today overall. We’ll work on it, and we’ll be better tomorrow.”

They both took that as a dismissal, and headed back to their driver’s rooms. Beth got distracted by her phone, as all the notifications started popping up as she turned it on, all the twitter and Instagram pictures from today. She changed from her race suit as she read through some of the posts, and then the comments caught her attention. Most were positive, just about being glad Formula 1 was back after the break, but there were enough hateful ones to catch her eye. 

Lewis knocked on her door, and she called for him to come in absent-mindedly, scrolling through the comments, standing in her underwear in the middle of her driver’s room. 

“You really should ignore social media,” he said, unfazed by her lack of clothes. “There’s always going to be people who try and put you down. It’s not worth it, just let PR handle it.”

“Also,” he continued, plucking her phone out of her hands, “you probably shouldn’t have let me in without you wearing anything. I know a reporter would have hell to pay for sneaking into a garage, but I wouldn’t put it past them.”

“Oh shit,” Beth laughed, trying to shake her mind away from the comments. “Sorry mate, wasn’t thinking.”

“Babe, you never have to apologise to me, alright?” Lewis gave her a cheeky, one-sided smile. “Let’s get out of here, yeah? Get some food, maybe watch a film or something tonight?” 

She smiled, before pulling on her jeans, and buttoning her team shirt. 

“Let’s go, I’ll drive,” she offered, and Lewis quickly handed over the keys. As they got into the car, and the doors shut, no more cameras, Beth turned to him. “How are you doing? Being back, after last year?”

Lewis stared ahead, but he was tapping her fingers against his knee, giving away his anxiety. “Yeah, it’s a bit - I mean, there’s a lot of emotions, you know?”

She started the car. “Lewis, I’m not a reporter, alright? You don’t have to guard your words around me.” She backed out of the space, and started towards the exit. “If it’s something you don’t want to talk about,” she said quietly, “there’s no pressure. But if you do, I’m here.”

“It’s just difficult,” he started. “I deserved that win, that championship. But there was something dodgy going on behind the scenes, and I was so angry at the FIA for allowing it.” She put a hand on his knee, still looking ahead at the road. “But it’s a new season, and I’m trying not to think about it, even when I see Max’s car with the number 1 on it.”

“Yeah, it’s rough,” she said, and as they pulled up at some traffic lights, she looked at him. “But you just gotta come back harder at him. Get the championship you deserve.”

“And I will,” Lewis stated. “We’ve got a long season ahead of us, there’s plenty of races to win.”

They sat in comfortable silence until Beth pulled the car into the hotel’s underground parking. 

“I think I just need to sleep,” Beth said, as she shut off the engine. “That Mercedes drives so differently to the Williams, it’s much more physical, and I’m exhausted.”

“Fair enough,” Lewis said. “Get yourself a hot bath and some food, and then sleep. You’ll feel much better tomorrow.”

“Cheers, babe,” she said, and got out the car, grabbing her bag from the back seat. She tossed the keys back to him, and he caught them smoothly. “Head to the track together tomorrow?”

Lewis nodded, and they agreed a time for him to come to her room. Beth headed up to her room alone, and as she was soaking into a hot bath, she couldn’t get Lewis off her mind. 

***

Chapter Text

Qualifying: Beth Sanderson P5, Carlos Sainz P3, Charles LeClerc P7, Lewis Hamilton P2

Beth was happy enough with P5, for her first qualifying in this new car. Her and Lewis sat through the joint driver briefing, then were shepherded towards the press by their PR teams. 

Someone interviewed Lewis first, and Beth stood off to the sidelines, listening as they spoke about the race, his performance, his hopes for tomorrow. Press was the worst part of the job, but there would be no getting out of it, especially now she was driving alongside Lewis at Mercedes. 

“Beth Sanderson!” The interviewer called her over, and she took Lewis’ spot, forcing a smile. “Enjoy your time off?”

“Yeah, it’s nice to decompress, but I’m always ready to get back on the track.”

She glanced behind the camera, seeing Carlos and Charles watching her interview, both sweating, but smiling. 

“There was a rumour going around over the holidays - anything to comment about it?”

She quirked an eyebrow. “And what rumour would that be? There’s always rumours flying around, I don’t keep up with it.”

“About you and Lando Norris, of course! Fans seem to think there’s a relationship there.” 

Beth was suddenly mad. This idiot of an interviewer hadn’t questioned Lewis on his relationships, or fan rumours; they’d only spoken about qualifying. 

“Are you going to question Lando about this too? Did you ask Lewis about about his personal life? Does that script of yours tell you to ask LeClerc or Sainz or Magnussen about any of the rumours about them?” She kept her tone friendly enough, but her eyes was sharp, and the interviewer seemed uncomfortable at being called out. 

“I-I…” he trailed off, when she held up a finger to stop him. She took the microphone out of his hand, and he was too stunned to resist. 

“What other questions have you got for me on that script? Can I guess?” She pretended to think. “Something about my fitness schedule in preparation for Mercedes, something about how do I get along with Lewis, and, if you were really trying to annoy me, something about my racesuit, and does it fit, did Mercedes have to get one made specially, and the best question of all - what do I wear under it.” 

The interviewer was bright red, and Charles’ and Carlos’ faces had gone very serious as the interviewer didn’t seem to have an answer. 

“If you have any questions about qualifying, or the new car, or anything else you would ask the men, I’ll come back.” 

Beth walked off, putting her earphones back in as she walked through the paddock, back to her driver’s room. She was summoned by the engineers a little later, discussing the car, and any minor adjustments they were going to make, and that’s where Charles found her. They all stopped speaking as the red-clad man walked into the Mercedes garage, and someone quickly minimised all their screens, not to give anything away. 

“Can I speak with you, Beth, please?” 

“We’re not done here, Beth,” the lead engineer piped up, but she shook her head. 

“Look, lets do everything we’ve talked about, and nothing more, alright. Phone me if you find anything major.”

She beckoned Charles to follow her to her driver’s room, and closed the door behind them. He stuck out in his red in this room, comprised totally of blue and white. 

“That interviewer was such a dick,” Charles said quickly, getting the words in before Beth could say anything. “You placed higher than me and he spoke of nothing other than the race tomorrow with me.”

Beth sighed, shaking her head. “I know; I’ve been dealing with the shitty interviewers for years, and I thought it might be different at Mercedes, but apparently not. Lewis in the spotlight as he deserves, and me just here to perpetrate the drama on the grid.”

“Chérie, you can’t accept that,” he said firmly, stepping forward, and gently tilting her face upwards to meet his eyes. 

“I’m not; I’ll just have to win, and get their attention away from my tits and towards my skill.”

Charles laughed, and hugged her. 

“I’m not gonna help you on the track, but I might have another way to help,” Charles said as he let go of her. “But it’s a surprise.”

Beth shot him a glare. “That’s not fair, dude.”

Before Charles could respond, there was a knock at the door. 

“Bethany?” Carlos’ voice came through the door, his accent rolling through her name. “Can I come in?” 

“Yeah, it’s unlocked,” she called back, and Charles rolled her eyes. 

“That interviewer was a total cabrón…” he trailed off as he saw Charles standing behind her. “You saying the same thing?” he asked Charles, and Charles nodded. 

“He’s got a plan that he won’t tell me - Carlos, help me out here,” Beth asked, and Carlos raised a brow, a mischevious smile on his face. 

“Charles, need some help with that plan?” Carlos asked, and Charles grinned. The two Ferrari boys seemed to communicate in some sort of silent language, frustrating Beth intensely. 

“We will see you tomorrow, cariña,” Carlos said, and Charles winked at her. 

“Try to trust us a little bit, and get some sleep before tomorrow.” 

With that, they left her driver’s room, and she growled a little in frustration. If there was anything she hated, it was being left in the unknown. Beth enjoyed control, not surprises. 

But she knew how stubborn they were going to be about this, so instead of harrassing them for more information, she tried to forget, and instead got ready to leave the track and go back to her hotel room. 

There was a knock at her door as Beth was drying her hair. Lewis popped his head around the door, and came inside on her request. He was also ready to head back to the hotel, and had come by to collect her, seeing as they were staying in the same place. It was common for teammates to stay in the same hotel, but for ease, but Beth could already tell that the press would make it into some sort of story. 

Let them - it would be this or some other bullshit story anyway. 

“I just saw your interview online, you alright?” 

She shrugged, turning off the hairdryer. 

“Yeah, same old shit, just felt a little argumentative today. Should we go? I’m exhausted.”

They were shuttled back to the hotel by Mercedes, and when she got into her room, she crashed out almost immediately.

***

Beth got into the paddock earlier than was expected, avoiding any cameras that would show up later. Head in the game - starting at P5 was fine, and wouldn’t it be something for her first race with Mercedes to be on the podium. 

She was so focused on the race, and as she got into the car, nothing had ever felt more right. Driving for Mercedes, with Lewis as her teammate - this was going to be a good season, she knew it. 

Bahrain Grand Prix: Beth Sanderson P3, Carlos Sainz P4, Charles LeClerc P6, Lewis Hamilton P1

Being on the podium was thrilling, and spraying Lewis and Max with champagne wasn’t something she was going to ever forget. 

When they cleared out, trophies in hand, their management shuttled them off quickly to change and shower, before heading to the press panel waiting for them. Today’s panel was with all the drivers, on a huge stage seating them all. As they were entering, and taking their seats, Beth caught Charles’ eye, and he winked at her. 

The questions started with Lewis, having won the race. It was all the usual stuff for him, and for Max, and then it was her turn. 

“Beth, it’s your first podium ever. How does it feel to be the first woman to ever be on the podium?”

She tried not to roll her eyes. Of course it would come back to gender, as it always did. She lifted her microphone, but someone else started speaking first. 

“First time on the podium is an amazing feat,” Charles said, looking pointedly at the reporter who asked the question. “I don’t think gender makes a difference, no?”

Beth secreted away a smile. Was this his plan?

“Beth! Did you have any issues today with your car, when you lost a couple of places at the beginning? Or maybe your racesuit?”

“Vale,” Carlos started, “I lost a couple places too, finished one place lower than I started, and my clothes had nothing to do with it.”

Beth tried to keep her expression neutral as every sexist question was answered by another driver. They were all piping up, taking the heat away from her, and pissing off all the reporters as none of them got a single answer out of Beth. 

“Before we move on,” the FIA press coordinator said, pointing at one final reporter who hadn’t said anything yet. Beth didn’t like the look of the guy, the smug expression on his face, like he was going to try and get on her nerves so much she’d answer herself. “Last question for Sanderson.”

“Sanderson, we all know this sport is very taxing on the body. Is this your career for life, and if so, how do you plan on having children?” 

Beth was stunned, and her eyebrows raised. “Excuse me?”

“This is unacceptable,” Max responded. Beth glanced at him, and could instantly tell from his stiff posture that he was fuming. “Why do you have any right to ask?”

Beth reached over, and put a hand gently on Max’s shoulder. He paused, and she nodded. It’s alright, I can handle this twat.

“Firstly, whether or not I want children is my decision, and not for public knowledge. Secondly, my body is none of your concern, my reproductive health even less so. And finally, if not a single one of you has a fucking question for me about the race, then I’m done here.

Beth stood up, and walked off the stage, and as she did, every single other driver did the same. Charles caught up to her, and walked tightly to her side, and Carlos joined her other side. “Everyone’s going to leave, and go back to their hotels now; let’s get out of here so we can talk properly.” 

Beth followed them both willingly, and it turned out they were at the same hotel as her and Lewis were staying in. Finally out of the range of cameras in Charles’ hotel room, Beth found the words she was looking for. 

“You did that for me?” 

“You are an excellent driver; you deserve to be treated exactly the same as the rest of us.” 

Beth smiled, and her eyes flitted around the room. Charles blushed on seeing the mess he had left here over the past few days. 

“This is a kind of chaos I didn’t expect from you,” she commented. “So many surprises this weekend.” She moved closer to him, standing on her toes to reach up to whisper in his ear, “how could I surprise you?”

Charles cleared his throat, and Beth smirked. She grazed her lips from his ear, down his jaw, and she swore she couldn’t hear him breathe. 

“Tell me to stop if I’m wrong,” she murmured into his skin, but he would do no such thing. 

She kissed him, and that snapped Charles back to reality, of what was happening here. His hands left his sides, and roamed her body, freely feeling her through her clothes. 

“Ah, mon chérie,” he moaned, as she cupped him through his trousers. 

“Too many clothes,” she murmured, more to herself than to him. She began unbuckling his belt, and he froze. “Cha?” she said, taking a step back. “Babe, we don’t have to have sex if you don’t want to.” 

He stayed still, eyes glazed over, then shook his head. 

“I want to,” Charles replied, “but not here, not like this. I don’t want to feel like you’re just doing me a favour because of what happened today.” 

Beth raised a brow. “Okay, Charles. Not today, and not in Saudi, because we both know what the rules are like there. Australia.”

He nodded, “Australia.” 

She turned around to leave, and Charles watched her go. Right before she opened the door, she turned back around. 

“Just so we’re totally clear, Charles, I don’t do relationships on the grid. It’s messy, and ruins focus on the championship.” Charles nodded faintly. “You can tell me at any point that that isn’t what you want, and I swear, we can be friends, same as before.”

Charles ran a hand through his hair. Casual hooking up wasn’t his thing, but with Beth? Maybe it could work. 

“Looking forward to Australia.” 

***

Chapter Text

When Beth and Lewis were an hour out of Saudi Arabia, they were both given their rules and regulations update for this location. Beth’s had an extra page, basically telling her that if she didn’t want to go to jail, she should only go to the track, garages, paddock and hotel. 

“This is such bullshit,” Beth said, leafing through the rules. 

“I really don’t want to have to bail you out of jail so early in the season though,” Lewis replied, one brow raised. “Just try for one weekend, please.” 

She sighed. “Alright then. But just so you know, I get grouchy when I have to follow stupid rules.”

“Warning received,” Lewis laughed. 

***

Qualifying: Beth Sanderson P7, Carlos Sainz P6, Charles LeClerc P2, Lewis Hamilton P3

Carlos approached Beth’s motorhome after qualifying, as she had been quick to leave before any press could happen. He knocked gently. 

“Cariña?” he called, and she opened the door, ushering him inside quickly. 

“My press team think it would be best if I do the bare minimum this weekend, not create an incident where I could be arrested just for being a woman,” she said by way of explanation at her absence. “So, I’m confined to here, the hotel that I only get to travel back to once Lewis is done with press, and the garage. It’s shit.”

“Ferrari are too busy with Charles right now to notice that I’m not there,” Carlos said. “What shall we do to pass the time?” 

“You helped Charles organise that stunt at Bahrain, didn’t you?” she asked the question that had been burning in her mind. She didn’t know how Charles could have pulled it off alone with such little time and perfect execution. 

“Maybe I did, but it wasn’t for Charles,” he replied. “It was for you, and for every other woman in this sport. No one deserves to be spoken to like that, to be asked those questions on camera.” 

Beth smile, moving to the fridge, and she threw Carlos a bottle of water. He caught it smoothly, and started drinking. 

“Fuck, it is hot here,” she said, nonchalantly. “I hate these silly motorhomes too, like, why can’t I just stay in the driver’s room? I’ll be out of trouble, with air conditioning.”

Beth started to take off her racesuit, and Carlos blinked. 

“Your racesuit is different to mine,” he said, trying not to focus on her body underneath. “I mean, asking about it in a press conference is bullshit, especially when you got podium and that’s so much better to talk about, but it is built differently.” 

Beth grinned. “Wanna see what’s under my racesuit, Carlos? Answer all those interviewers questions for yourself?” His eyes widened, and she sauntered over to him across the small space, standing right in front of him. “Or maybe, I wanna see what’s under yours.”

Carlos pulled her down so she was straddling his lap, mouths colliding. It was quick and hot and passionate, out of Beth’s control - nothing like her kiss with Charles. But she could barely think about Charles as Carlos had his hands all over her. 

Beth ground her hips down against his, swallowing the groan that escaped the Spaniard. 

“Wanna fuck you,” he managed, as she continued to tease his through his clothes. “Joder, I - Beth-”

“Shush, baby, someone will hear you,” Beth murmured into his ear. “I want you too, but you’re going to have to wait. What hotel you in tonight?” 

It took Carlos a minute to recall, his brain so sex-addled, but it wasn’t the same as Beth, not even close enough they could make something work. 

“Beth, I don’t want you to stop,” he said, as she moved off him. 

“I know, baby. We can’t have sex, but I know what we can do.”

She moved quickly around the motorhome, shutting all the blinds, and locking the door. 

Then, she was on her knees in front of Carlos, pushing his legs apart. 

“Ay, díos mío,” he said, his hand in her hair. She unzipped his trousers, and took out his cock, already hard and leaking. “You drive me loco, cariña,” he moaned, confusing the languages, but Beth knew exactly what he was saying. 

When she took him in her mouth, she wasn’t shy or hesitant, only beautiful and enthusiastic, like he was the best thing she’d ever had in her mouth. Carlos was trying not to make too much noise, but with Beth seated at his feet, sucking him off, he couldn’t help it. 

He was almost there, already, trying to make this last as long as possible in case it never happened again, but his control was rapidly draining. 

“Ay, Carlos,” Beth said, her Spanish accent perfectly rolling over his name. He almost came at the sound of her speaking his language, but managed to stop himself. “Cállate, por favor.”

Then she took him back in her mouth, and he was almost there. 

“Bethany,” he moaned quietly, “I’m gonna-” But he couldn’t get the rest of his warning out before he was shooting hot ropes of cum down her throat. Carlos watched, dazed and in awe, as she swallowed everything, and then sat back on her feet, equally dazed. 

When he had recovered from his orgasm, she was already on her feet, checking her hair in the mirror. Carlos had managed to tear most of it out of the braid she kept it in for racing, but she didn’t care. 

“Since when can you speak Spanish?” he asked, the only question he could come up with. 

“Hace cuatro años, más o menos.”

“Hablas como una española. Tú acento es perfecto.”

She turned, and winked at him. Then she glanced at the clock. “You probably should go - Lewis will be here soon, and I promised I would stay out of trouble this weekend.”

“I’m trouble, ah?” Carlos joked, but pulled his clothes back on. “I’ll see you tomorrow, cariña.”

He left, and Beth started to unravel her hair. Not ten minutes later, Lewis showed up. 

“Well, you didn’t miss anything. Everyone hates it here, and most of the drivers left early anyway. I didn’t even see Sainz at all.” 

Beth grinned. “Well, I’m ready to be out of this shitbox. Can we go?” 

***

Lewis knocked on her door in the morning, and she called him in - She was just pulling on her tracksuit as he walked in. 

“You’re in a better room than me,” he commented, a little put out. 

“Maybe Mercedes love me more than you already,” she joked, pulling her hair out of the loose plait she slept in. 

They carpooled together to the track, and when they were pulled into the briefing room, the PR team did not look happy. But, there was no anger directed towards Beth herself. 

“The FIA has reminded us that all drivers must complete their post-qualifying interviews, specifically naming you and Sainz,” Annabelle, Beth’s manager, said. “But they were not happy in general after the Bahrain walk-out, so I’m not entirely surprised we were called out on this. Whatever happens in the race, wherever you finish, you have to do the standard press.”

Beth sighed, but also wasn’t surprised. 

“Anyway, let’s get ready for this race, and we’ll talk afterwards about press. But, Beth, please behave. You know what this country is like.” 

Beth and Lewis split up, finding their trainers to get race-ready. 

Saudi Arabia Grand Prix: Beth Sanderson P4, Carlos Sainz P6, Charles LeClerc DNF, Lewis Hamilton P2

As Beth heard over the radio as she pulled into the P4 spot, that Charles hadn’t finished the race, that was all she could think about. About finding him, and making sure he was okay. She would have heard about any injuries forcing him to retire, so her mind wandered to the mechanical failures that caused a driver to retire. 

She sped through all her interviews, giving all the answers they wanted to hear, watched Max, Lewis and Lando on the podium, then disappeared into the crowd to find Charles’ drivers’ room. But he had already left, as one of the Ferrari engineers reluctantly informed her when she said she wouldn’t leave until she was told. 

As she was leaving the Ferrari garage, she ran into Carlos. 

“You looking for him too?” he asked, and she nodded. 

“He’s not here,” she supplied, and Carlos sighed. 

“He does this - disappears after a bad result. I probably won’t see him until Australia either.”

Carlos patted her shoulder then headed to his driver’s room. Beth returned to Mercedes, looking for her phone in her room. 

Beth Sanderson:
Are you okay? Do you wanna talk about it?

Please just tell me you’re okay. I’m worried Charles

Charles?

Charles LeClerc:
I’m fine, just need to sleep it off. See you in Australia.

Beth Sanderson:
Okay, babe. See you there. 

***

Chapter Text

Beth flew to Australia as soon as she could, after her commitments back at the factory to work on the simulator. She hoped Charles might have done the same, but it was unlikely, and even moreso that she would be at the same hotel. 

She texted him regardless. 

Beth Sanderson:
Hey babe, wondering when you’re getting into Melbourne - wanna grab some food one night before practices start?

Charles LeClerc:
Getting in quite early, will be there on Friday 1st

Beth smiled - he was going to be early, almost a week before the race. 

Beth Sanderson:
Where you staying?

Charles LeClerc:
Wherever Ferrari booked - I’ll find out

He followed the message with the hotel name, and Beth smirked. Sheer luck had landed them in the same hotel, but she wasn’t about to waste that time. She had three days before Charles would arrive, and she didn’t know who else might show up early - Carlos maybe? She knew Lewis was stopping in Sydney before arriving here on Wednesday before the race.

***

Friday rolled around quickly, with Beth in a haze of working out, eating and sleeping. She found her phone after a particularly gruelling workout, to see a notification from Charles. 

Charles LeClerc:
Hey, just checked into the hotel - can I see you? 

Beth Sanderson:
Yeah, just in the gym in the basement

I can shower and meet you somewhere?

Beth was just about to text Charles again, when he appeared next to her. 

“Fucking hell, dude!” she shouted, pushing lightly against his chest. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

He hugged her, and she tried to push away, and he quickly let go, a question in his hurt eyes. 

“I’m sweating and disgusting,” she answered. 

“And this would bother me why, mon chérie?” He brought her back into his chest, and this time, she didn’t fight back. 

Beth shrugged, but pressed her body closer into Charles, inhaling his scent. 

Then her phone rang. She grabbed it from her pile of stuff, and looked at Charles apologetically as she answered. 

“Sanderson,” she answered. 

“Just checking in,” Harriet, her personal trainer, said. “Still spending a shit-ton of time in the gym?”

Beth pursed her lips. “Maybe.” 

“And still not eating enough? You know if you drop your weight too much then you can’t drive.” 

“Harriet, I know this. I’m just having a bit of a week,” Beth said, very aware of Charles next to her, who was doing everything to seem like he wasn’t listening, but so close, he must have been able to hear her. 

“All you have to do, Bethany, is follow the diet. We’re only two races in, don’t start all this again.”

“Fine, fine. Need me for anything else? Otherwise I’m gonna go.” 

She heard Harriet sigh through the phone. “One last thing. Fucking your way through the grid is alright when you’re not nearing the top of the grid. Not anymore. Do like everyone else and hook up with someone random.”

“Thank you, Harriet.”

Beth hung up on her. 

Charles raised a brow. “Fucking the grid, huh?” 

“What, a girl can’t have a little fun?”

Charles grinned, and then suggested they go and get some food, maybe see a bit of the city before any tabloids figured out that they were here early. 

“I’ll go shower, but come up to my room in like 20 minutes?” she suggested, and Charles agreed. 

***

“Come in,” Beth called as there was a knock at her door. She was just drying her hair, and Charles entered, wearing a pair of slacks, button-down shirt and sunglasses pushed up on his head. 

She put the hairdryer down. “Now I feel like I have to change,” she said, raising a brow. 

“Why would that be?” Charles asked. 

“Well, you look amazing, and that’s hardly fair if I look like shit,” she replied, glancing down at her leggings, hoodie and trainers. 

“You’re beautiful, mon chérie,” Charles replied quietly, crossing the space between them. “Doesn’t matter what you wear.”

He knelt down next to where she was sitting on the floor in front of the mirror, and took her hand. “I promise you that.” 

Beth couldn’t help herself when she leant forward and pressed her lips to his. When he stayed still, she pulls back, unable to meet his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to assume…”

He cupped her face. “Don’t apologise for that, ever. You just caught me off-guard.” He pulled her closer to him, until she was almost straddling his lap. Then he kissed her. 

Charles kissed her slowly, like he had all the time in the world. Which, for them, when he had at least four days before other drivers and their teams started showing up in Melbourne, that was basically as much time as they would ever have. 

At some point, Charles’ lips left her mouth and made their way down Beth’s neck, hands trying to pull underneath her top. Meanwhile, Beth had her hands on his belt, trying to wiggle it out the way. 

“It’s a bodysuit, baby,” she murmured, standing up and beckoning him towards the bed. She threw the hoodie over her head and slung it into some unknown corner of the room. Charles slipped his shoes off, and pulled his shirt over his head. 

Clothes were thrown in all directions, and then they were falling into bed, Charles lying on his back and Beth over his hips, grinding down against him, and swallowing his groans as she kissed him. 

There was nothing slow anymore. 

“Wanna taste you,” Charles managed to say against her lips, as she raked her fingers down his back. He kissed slowly down her body, and Beth wove her fingers into his hair. He smirked a little as he found her drenched, wetness glistening in her folds. 

“Stop stalling,” Beth breathed. “Charles, ple-” she cut herself off with a moan as Charles tongued at her entrance. 

He gripped her thighs, holding her down as she shook with pleasure. This was better than she’d imagined, as she’d spent a fair bit of time over the last few weeks thinking about how this might go, since she left his room in Bahrain. 

Pleasure rippled through her at every swipe of his tongue, and she couldn’t be certain at how long it was before she felt the tell-tale tightness in her stomach, and the waves of euphoria broke over her. 

Charles, looking up at her with shining lips and glazed eyes, kissed up her body, meeting her mouth as the orgasm faded. With one arm, she wove her fingers into his hair, kissing him fiercely, and the other, she threw out blindly, fumbling in her top drawer for a condom. When she found it, Charles took it off her, and rolled it on. 

“Please, Charles,” she murmured. “Don’t stop now.”

He pushed himself inside, moving slow enough that it’s torturous, and Beth has to bite her lip in order to stop herself from begging. He murmurs something in French so low that even if she understood the language, she wouldn’t have known what it was. 

“I-oh Beth, putain, you feel so good,” he gasped, burying himself fully inside her. 

“Charles, if you don’t start moving now, I’ll-”

He laughed, sound so rich and deep. “No need for threats, darling.” 

He began to fuck her in earnest, setting an unyielding pace until they were both a trembling moaning mess. Beth, still high from her first orgasm, quickly reached her end, and could feel herself clenching around Charles. 

“Beth, come for me, baby,” Charles managed, and that was all she needed, as she came, Charles’ own orgasm following not long after. 

As Beth lay with her head on Charles’ chest, there was something she couldn’t get off her mind. 

“What happened in Saudi Arabia, Cha?” 

Charles sighed, and shook his head. “I don’t know, some sort of mechanical failure and I lost the gearbox. I was so angry on the day, I just had to get out.” 

She propped herself up on her elbows, trying to guess how much it had actually upset him. Charles was so good at controlling his voice, but never with his eyes. They told her all the truth she needed to hear. 

“Baby, I’m sorry that it happened like that, but this race should be good, no?”

“Yes, hopefully,” Charles said, and Beth knew better than to ask if they’d fixed the issues. Team secrets and boundaries were set in stone, no matter the circumstance. 

They went quiet for a while, just enjoying each other’s presence. 

Then Beth’s phone rang. She kissed Charles before getting up off the bed, and following the noise. 

“Sanderson,” she answered, and a very familiar Spanish voice answered. 

“Hola, cariña,” Carlos’ voice came through the phone, and Charles raised a brow. Carlos?, he mouthed.

“Hola, what’s up?” she asked. 

“I just landed in Australia, and well, I’m outside your hotel room.”

“I’m not in my hotel room,” Beth lied, and looked, stunned at Charles. “How do you know which one is mine anyway?” 

Carlos chuckled into the phone. “Lewis may have told me, and I know you’re lying. I can hear you through the wall.” 

Beth staggered a step towards the pile of clothes, and threw Charles’ shirt and trousers at him, pointing at the door. 

“Carlos,” she whispered at Charles, cupping her hand over the phone. “At the door.” 

Charles got up, and started putting his clothes on. 

“Give me a minute,” she told Carlos, before hanging up. She could hear his laughter through the door. “Fuck,” she hissed, pulling on her leggings, then throwing the first hoodie she could find over the top. She ushered Charles into the dressing room, and headed to the door. 

“Carlos,” she greeted, opening the door, but leaving her body in the way, blocking most of his view into the room. 

“Bethany, have you got someone in here with you?” he asked, smirking. “You have sex hair.” 

She glared at him. “So what if I do?”

He pouted at her, and then asked, “Do I know them?”

She didn’t answer immediately, and he laughed. “I do know them. Him or her? Or, someone on the grid again?” Carlos was wildly making his own assumptions, but Beth was denying very little. “It is another driver! Beth, I thought I was the only other driver in your life.” 

Beth chuckled. “You don’t listen to any of the rumours about me, do you? According to the press, I’ve slept with the majority of the grid.” 

“Esteban?” Carlos called, pushing gently past Beth, even as she tried to protest. “Pierre?” Carlos turned back to her. “Lando?” he asked, eyebrows raised. She shook her head. “Where is he?”

“Carlos, why are you being like this? This is none of your business.” 

She grabbed his arm before he could continue a search through her room. Then his eyes narrowed on the floor, to a pair of shoes. 

“Charles, huh?” Carlos murmured quietly, and Beth sighed, nodding. 

“Charles, where are you hiding?” Carlos shouted, and the Monegasque walked out into the main bedroom, brows raised at his teammate. 

“Carlos,” he said, “you’re in Australia early.” 

“That’s what you say. After nothing after Saudi Arabia, I’m in Australia early? Ay, qué cabrón, amigo.” 

The two Ferrari drivers stared at each other, neither breaking down, but Beth stepped between them. “Let’s not argue. I need to eat, either of you want to come with me to get something?” 

Charles’ eyes snapped to her, and nodded. “Yeah, mon chérie. I’m here.”

“Yes, I could eat,” Carlos added. “But, cariña, you might want to put some more clothes on rather than get caught by cameras.” 

Beth glanced in the mirror, and saw exactly what Carlos meant. The lack of underwear beneath her leggings, nothing underneath the thin hoodie, meant a picture in some Australian tabloid wouldn’t do anything good for her reputation. 

“Thank you,” she said, pulling the hoodie over her head and ignoring the intakes of breath behind her as she strode towards the dressing room where all her clothes were. She put on a lace crop top under a leather jacket, and a pair of black jeans, though still nothing underneath them. Maybe that would be a nice little surprise for one (or both) of them later. 

Dinner was fun, but as always, going out with other drivers during race season meant many limitations on what they could all eat. But they made it work, and had a couple of drinks too. 

When Charles excused himself for the bathroom, Beth turned to Carlos. 

“¿Él es bisexual, o no?” she asked, in quiet, rapid Spanish. [is he bisexual, or not?]

“Ay, no sé, es posible,” Carlos shrugged. “¿Por qué?” [I don't know, it's possible ... why?]

“Quiero los dos al mismo tiempo, ¿es posible ahora?” She winked at him as Carlos’ eyes widened, then glanced around the room. [I want the two of you at the same time, it is possible now?]

“Hablamos más tarde, vale,” Carlos said as Charles returned to the table. [we talk later, ok?]

“Why do you two always look so guilty?” he asked, and Beth just shrugged, and winked. 

“We were just discussing the fact that I’m not wearing any underwear,” Beth said, taking a sip of her drink.

“What game are you playing, huh?” Charles asked, eyes wide. “Don’t tease me like this in public.” 

“I’m going to pay the bill, and go back to my room. You should join me,” she said, looking between both of them.

Neither of them needed to be told twice.  Charles seemed to have little resistance to the idea, and as they waited at the curbside for taxis, Beth turned to him. 

“Are you alright with this? With him, too?” Beth asked quietly, though she wasn’t fooling Carlos into thinking they weren’t discussing him. 

Charles wet his lips, and glanced at his teammate. Carlos met his eyes, a little hopefully, and Charles smirked. “I am more than alright with this.” 

They left the restaurant in two different taxis - the Ferrari guys in one, and Beth in the other. She got in hers first, giving Carlos the second key to her room, and the two of them stood waiting on the curb. 

She got into her room, ditching her shoes and bag on the floor, before sitting on the edge of her bed. Her mind wandered as she waited for the two of them to get in, and just as she heard their laughter coming down the corridor, her phone rang. 

“Sanderson,” she answered, without glancing at the number, only holding her hand up to the two excited Ferrari drivers who had just entered her room. “Yes, this is she.”

Charles and Carlos paused, as she listened to the call, unable to hear what was going on. 

“Thanks for keeping me updated,” Beth replied, her voice neutral. “Yes, tell her I’ll call her tomorrow. Cheers Doctor.”

“Are you alright?” Charles asked her, and Beth shrugged. 

“Yes and no. I don’t want to think about it,” she replied. “Any ideas for a distraction?”

“If you’re sure,” Carlos said, crossing the space between them, and waiting, for Beth’s nod, and then he kissed her. Charles materialised at their side, giving them a few moments as his patience runs its course, before he’s grabbing Beth by the waist and pulling her towards the bed, Carlos following. 

Clothes are quickly stripped, and just as they’re about to remove underwear, Beth stops them. “Are you sure?” she asks, looking between the two men. She didn’t know if they’d thought about this, about the fact they’d have to be so close to each other for the remainder of their time together at Ferrari. 

“I’m sure,” Carlos said huskily, eyes trailing over Beth, and then equally over his teammate. “Charles?”

It takes Charles a second to find the words. “Yes, I’m sure.”

They fall into bed together, skin pressing together as they discover each other’s bodies, discover the new dynamic of the three of them together, in one bed, admittedly a very large bed that easily accommodates them all. There’s no initial awkwardness as they try and figure out what happens next, only fumbling to get closer and closer, each chasing their own orgasms. 

Even as she was being fucked by Carlos, she couldn’t help but notice how the two men interacted with each other - like this was nothing new, like they were totally comfortable with each other’s nakedness, arousal, sharing a girl like this. But, risking asking questions, and turning the lust-filled moment into something else wasn’t worth it, and she let the thought eddy out of her mind as an orgasm ripped through her. 

As they fell back into bed, all fully spent, Beth was the first to find her voice. 

“You both surprised me tonight,” she said, smile tugging at her lips. “Maybe you could surprise me again soon?”

***

Qualifying: Beth Sanderson P11, Carlos Sainz P3, Charles LeClerc P1, Lewis Hamilton P4

“Don’t touch me,” Beth said as she left the garage, and Lewis was at her side. 

“Okay, mate, it’s P11, it’s not the end of the world.” But he shrugged it off, ignoring her dismissal - first driving season in one of the top teams was always stressful, and every mistake felt like it could cost a contract renewal. 

Beth put her headphones in, and kept her head down, collecting herself through debriefs before going out into the paddock and facing press. Yes, P11 wasn’t her worst result ever, and it wasn’t the worst place to start, but she could have so easily been higher up, if not for that stupid mistake messing up her time. 

“Result today isn’t ideal, Beth, anything to say on the car’s performance maybe, or what caused you to miss getting into Q3?” One interviewer asked, and she shrugged. 

“To be honest with you, mate, my last flying lap of Q2 just wasn’t good enough - I was hitting the corners at the wrong angles, the wrong speeds, all of those things being my fault, and nothing to do with the Mercedes itself. So yeah, not the best place to be starting, but hopefully I can finish in the points on Sunday.” 

The interviewer smiled at her honesty, then asked, “does it concern you that more finishes like this could cost your chance at a second year with Mercedes?”

Beth tried to keep her face as neutral as possible, but she wasn’t sure if it was working. “Well, we’re only on the third race of the season, and this is only qualifying. Do I think that consistently not scoring points would cost my chance with Mercedes, yes. But we’re nowhere close to that. I’ve finished in the points for both previous races with them, and nobody knows where I’ll finish tomorrow for certain. So, I guess, we’ll see.”

“Thank you, and we’ll leave you alone now,” the interviewer said, and she handed back the microphone. 

Charles intercepted her before she could make her way back into the garage, and she smiled at him. 

“Want to get some food once we’re all done here?” 

Beth sighed, shaking her head. “Nah mate, I just need to sleep, focus on the race tomorrow.” 

Charles nodded in understanding. “P11 isn’t that bad,” he assured her, and she gave him a flat look. 

“So you’d be happy with a P11 start?”

“No, but this is your first season for Mercedes. You don’t have to be perfect every time.” But even as Charles said it, he knew it wasn’t exactly true. And he also knew how pissed he would have been at a P11 start here. 

“Please, look, I’ll see you later, alright?” she said, walking away. 

Australian Grand Prix: Beth Sanderson P4, Carlos Sainz P6, Charles LeClerc P3, Lewis Hamilton P1

Climbing up steadily through the race was good, meant some of the tension in her body could leave. She was still a Mercedes-worthy driver. She watched Lewis, Charles and Max on the podium with her engineers. 

“Congratulations,” Beth said, hugging Lewis, despite the fact he was soaked in champagne. 

“Wanna go out and celebrate?” 

“Yeah for sure, just got to sort my shit out before we leave.” 

Lewis grinned. “Alright, I’ll find you in a bit, okay?” He disappeared off for more interviews. 

At the Mercedes after-party for Lewis’ win, both drivers disappeared at the same time, though no one noticed. Lewis was well-known for sudden disappearances at parties, and Beth was the unpredictable one. 

“This is so risky,” Lewis said, as Beth pulled him into one of the private rooms upstairs, that she’d sweet-talked the key of from the manager. “If we get caught…” he trailed off, as Beth raised a brow. 

“You’ll be fine, and my reputation is already shot to pieces.”

Lewis pulled her into his chest, kissing her forehead. “Baby, don’t think like that.”

“Then distract me until I forget,” she murmured into his chest, and he didn’t have to be asked twice. 

For them, sleeping with each other hadn’t been about anything other than releasing tension, either good or bad, after races. He knew her rule about dating the grid, and also, his life away from the racing meant he wasn’t prepared to be in any sort of long-term relationship. 

It was a quick, rough fuck, but they knew each other’s bodies so well that they knew how to make the other orgasm. On a night like this, where Beth needed a distraction, Lewis was perfect. And when Lewis wanted nothing less than to be the centre of attention at a win party, Beth was perfect for him. 

“Can I ask,” Lewis started, as they were putting their clothes back on. “What’s going on with you and the Ferrari guys? Carlos never stops staring at you, and Charles, well, he’s never been the best at hiding his feelings about something.”

Beth smiled, kissing Lewis’ cheek. “I’m just fucking them; I told them where I am with relationships, so if they’re getting too attached, that’s not my fault.” 

“I’m not here to judge, but I would say they’re too attached, just from what I’ve seen across the paddock.”

They returned to the party, and Beth returned the key, with $400 alongside it, to the manager. She winked at her, before joining back into the fun. 

***

Chapter Text

***

Someone in the press department had caught wind that she worked briefly as a chef, and dragged her into another challenge video, with drivers from other teams. She didn’t know what was going on until she was in the room with Carlos, Charles and Lando, in some sort of cooking challenge. 

“Oh, we are screwed,” Lando said, as she walked in. “Beth’s got this already.”

“Hi, Lando, how are you?” she asked, brows raised, and he giggled. 

Someone introduced the video concept, and the cameras started. Charles and Carlos introduced the video, and then Beth and Lando joined the screen. 

“What are we actually cooking?” she asked, and they were given a card. “Bolognese?” she asked, and smiled. 

“Mate,” Carlos said to Charles, “The Italians might disown us if Beth is better.”

They all moved back to their benches, and Beth pulled on the white and blue Mercedes-themed apron, tying it at the front. 

“Ah, see, proper chef,” Lando said, pointing to her, where he’d tied his papaya apron at the back. 

“Just mind your fingers,” she teased, and picked up the knife they’d given her. Testing the blade with her finger, she looked around the side. “Ah, hold on,” she said, and Charles and Carlos turned to look at her. She moved over to the table at the side, off camera, and picked up the sharpening steel. 

“Okay, we’re good,” she said, walking back to her station whilst sharpening the knife. The competitive edge was just fun, and Beth was enjoying putting on a bit of a show, especially at something she was actually good at. 

“Mate, we are going to win,” Charles said, as Carlos gave him a defeated look. 

Beth started on her vegetables, working her way through the dish, freaking Lando out at one point as she continued chopping the onion whilst staring him dead in the eyes. He couldn’t stop giggling for a few minutes, which caught on and delayed the filming. 

When they finally focused, and Beth finished cooking early, she wandered around, generally interfering and annoying the other three. 

“Ah, babe, leave me alone,” Charles said, at one point, not thinking about the camera, and Beth flicked him in the head. 

“Oi, who you calling babe?” 

Charles laughed, a little forced, but relieved that Beth had tried to cover up his mistake. She was definitely not ready for the world to think they were dating. They probably would anyway, and there was likely nothing she could do about it. But she’d tried to stop it, and could now only hope for the best. 

It was definitely going to get clipped, Beth’s response cut out and replaced by something else. 

As the challenge finished, Beth crowned winner, they headed out, Beth making her way to the Mercedes garage

***

Saturday morning was a bit of a whirlwind. The weather was dreadful, the track full of standing water, and there were no signs of the rain letting up. Third practice was cancelled, and all the drivers were stuck in the garages, hoping that if the rain let up, they would be allowed out onto the track for qualifying. 

Beth and Lewis sat in the back of the garage, watching everything that was going on, as the anxiety in the room was spiking. Delays stressed Beth out, and her was bouncing her leg incessantly. 

“Ugh, I can’t sit still,” she snapped at nothing, standing up and shifting her weight foot to foot. 

“I can see that,” Lewis remarked, brows raised. She glared at him, with a little smile on her face. 

“I hate this, the waiting. I want to be driving, rain is rain,” she complained, and looked out the garage into the rain. She knew she was wrong - this kind of rain is dangerous, but her impatience won out. 

“Then do some exercise or something, watching you move like that is stressing me out,” he said, and she pulled off her fireproofs. She put her headphones in, and starting to stretch out her body. Lewis watched in fascination as she dropped into splits. Beth was lost in her own world, not paying attention to the engineers in the garage who stopped what they were doing to watch. 

Lewis stood up and gave her a little more space, going over to chat to Toto. 

“She’s crazy,” Toto remarked, and Lewis nodded. “Good crazy, though, right? Not the kind of crazy that’s going to lose.” 

Lewis smiled. “She’s one of the good ones.” 

“So long as she doesn’t tire herself out before qualifying,” Toto said, gesturing over to her, when she was against the wall, doing handstand push-ups. 

“Ah, she’s one of the young ones. You’d never catch me doing that pre-qualifying,” Lewis joked. 

She pushed herself down, going into box splits, when Toto shook his head. “I can’t watch her.”

He went over, and she pushed herself up to her feet. Lewis didn’t catch the words exchanged, but Beth seemed to argue back a little, and when Toto put his foot down, Beth nodded, sitting on the floor. 

An hour later, the rain stopped. The track was still wet, and the decision was made to begin qualifying anyway, as more rain was forecast later on. 

As Q1 started, they all pushed, but the track was so wet, cars were slipping and sliding all over the place. As Beth started her first flying, she spun out on the third corner, just gently kissing the barrier. 

“Fuck’s sake,” she said over the radio. “Sorry guys, not liking these tyres.”

“Copy, box box, we’ll go for another flyer in a minute.”

She made the move, going back to the pits. The wet tyres were difficult to manage, and Beth had less experience with the wet weather tyres, having never had them during her karting years. She couldn’t afford to buy two sets of tyres for every race, on the off chance there was going to be rain.  

Beth pulled out for another lap, needing to not end up out in Q1. She pushed as hard as she could, focusing on the tyres and the car, just scraping a decent time for her lap. 

“That’s P13, Beth, you are in Q2.”

“Thank fuck,” she muttered. “Can we talk about tyres when I’m not on this radio?”

“Understood. Get back to box, and we can discuss.”

Beth jumped out the car, something unusual from between parts of qualifying. 

“I hate wet weather tyres. I can do better in the normal ones,” Beth protested. “I can manage it better, it’s what I know.”

Toto shook his head. “Beth, we cannot. The track is wet, and the rain could start at any time.”

“Please, can I try one lap, and if I’m wrong, we’ll change them back for the second?”

Toto paused, looking to Michael, her race engineer. He shrugged. “One lap and maybe? Is it worth a risk?”

“I don’t know, are you sure?” Toto asked. 

Beth nodded. 

“Okay, one lap; if you are lower than P8, we put you back in the wet.”

She grinned, and ran back to the car, and watched as they changed into the softs. As Q2 started, and she pulled out, there was a little less traction on the car. But, this was what she was used to. She’d stuck out previous grand prix races with the rain with normal tyres during driving for Williams. 

When she started her outlap, she had the voice come through. 

“Are you sure? We can’t afford a crash.”

“I am on it.”

“Let’s go for flying then.”

She pushed the car to the limits around the track, and the corners that had tripped her before were more manageable, when she knew the tyres. 

“Was it enough?” she asked, the second she crossed the line. “Was I right?”

She could hear his smile through the radio. “That’s P2, Beth, P2.”

“Excellent.” She boxed, waiting to be allowed out again. One more chance at a good lap with the tyres how she wanted them to be. Beth made it into Q3, finishing P5 of Q2. It was within what Toto had required of her, and she was grinning under her helmet. 

The track had mostly dried by Q3, and Beth had her tyres ready, determined to do the best she could. 

Q3 went smoothly, and Beth’s final lap began as the rain started pouring again. But she pushed, and as the other drivers had the same tyres as her, Beth had her confidence back over them. She knew she could drive in these tyres. 

As she crossed the line, she waited for someone to tell her where she was. 

“That’s P1 currently. P1, but we are waiting for the others to come in.” 

She continued driving, keeping as far out of the way as she could whilst the others were finishing their best laps. 

“Okay, Verstappen finished behind you, still P1. You have pole position!”

Qualifying: Beth Sanderson P1, Carlos Sainz P11, Charles LeClerc P4, Lewis Hamilton P5

She pulled into the pit lane, putting her car into pole position spot, and climbing out. Max was next to her, in second, and Sebastian behind him in third. 

Seb climbed out his car, and went over to her, clapping her on the shoulder. 

“That was bold, I’m impressed,” he said, as they walked together into the weigh-in. “The only one not to take the wet tyres out.”

“I’m more comfortable with the car without them,” she replied.

“I would say be careful, but you got it right,” Seb said, before they were shuttled off into the media pen. 

***

It was still raining the next day when they all arrived on track. Beth groaned as the news came out about the delay, and instead of being in the garage, she went to her driver’s room, to try and keep her mind off the race. 

Lewis knocked on her door. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” she replied, tapping her leg out of frantic energy. 

“How can I distract you?” he asked, leaning back against the wall.

She shrugged. “I don’t know, mate, I just hate waiting.”

Lewis clicked the lock shut. “I could have an idea.”

She raised a brow as Lewis walked over to her, straddling her where she was sitting on the sofa. She met the gap between them, kissing him softly. 

“How long have we got?” she mumbled into his lips, as he was tugging at the zips of her fireproofs. 

“I don’t know,” he replied. 

“You really don’t want to go into a race with a raging hard-on,” Beth teased, and Lewis raised a brow. Beth giggled. “I guess it’s already too late.”

Lewis stood up, and pulled off his fireproofs, and Beth removed hers. “Stay quiet,” Lewis reminded her, and laid her back on the sofa, pushing straight into her. She gasped, and Lewis captured her lips with his, muting her moaning as he started moving. They kissed messily as they fucked, and they were both so frantic and fired up with adrenaline, that it wasn’t long before Lewis could feel himself tightening, the release so close. 

“Beth, I’m gonna-” she cut him off, a hand over his mouth, as she clenched involuntarily around him, and he moaned into her hand, spilling himself inside her. As he came back to his senses, bliss fading, his eyes widened. “You didn’t finish.”

Beth shrugged, and Lewis pulled out of her, putting a finger over her lips. “That’s not right, I’m going to make that up to you,” he said, moving down her. But then both their phones rang, and they knew what it was instantly. Their little bubble burst, and they both stood up, pulling their race clothes back on. 

“You owe me one later,” she winked, and she and Lewis ran down the corridor and into the garage. No one outwardly said anything, though Beth had the anxiety as she climbed into the car that everyone knew what had just happened in her driver’s room. She had no evidence, but all the fear. 

“Final chance for wet weather tyres,” Toto said, leaning towards her in the cockpit. She shook her head. 

“I’m good, I’ll drive like this.”

“If you slide too much or lose speed, I’m doing it anyway,” Toto warned her, and she nodded, pulling her helmet on. 

The rain started again lightly as they were running their formation lap, and Beth pulled into the P1 spot. 

“This is going to be fun,” she told her race engineer, and then the lights were flicking on, one by one. 

She had an excellent start, retaining her position and pulling away as someone behind her skidded across the track, taking a couple other cars off into the sides. Beth couldn’t afford to consider who may have been knocked out the race as she focused on how the car felt around her, trying to understand what her breaking and corners needed to be like. 

“Who’s behind me?” 

“Verstappen, 2.7 behind, then Lewis, 3.1 behind you.”

“Heard.”

Beth pushed and pushed, and the rain continued, keeping the track wet even as lap on lap the cars dried it out. 

“Box box.” She was told half-way through the race, after she complained her tyres were dead. She pulled into the pits, and had new tyres put on, and the second she pulled away, she knew what they had done. 

“Did you put wets on?” she asked, as she rejoined the race, a little behind Max. There was silence, for a moment too long. “Did you put wets on without telling me?” 

“Yes, the call was made, you need the traction.”

“Fucking hell, at least tell me if you’re gonna do that!” 

“Team decision was made-”

“Am I not part of this team then?” she argued, slinging the car around the corner. She hated these tyres already - her whole knowledge of the circuit she had built up in the previous thirty laps was now useless. “No more talking.”

“Beth, let’s focus now.”

She didn’t respond, now concentrating twice as hard to figure out the best lines to take with these tyres on, and how the car felt totally different on the straights, and then corners were totally new. 

“Verstappen is 2.6 in front, you’re losing a little on him. We need a bit more speed from you else Lewis is going to catch you.”

“Heard,” she snapped. “Please, no talking. I’m concentrating.”

She held her position for a few more laps, but the gap between her and Max was growing steadily. Lewis was right behind her, but she was trying desperately to hold second against him. 

“Team orders, let Lewis past. He is faster, let Lewis past please.”

Beth swore viciously down her radio, but pulled to the side, letting Lewis take second. 

“LeClerc and Perez behind, LeClerc is 5.4 seconds off.”

“How many laps?”

“Ten, ten laps to go. Try and keep the gap between you and LeClerc.”

“Heard.”

Beth pushed as hard as she could, but was still taking the corners too slowly, and she couldn’t shift out of the mind of regular tyre response. The gap between her and Lewis grew, and the gap between her and Charles shrunk. 

“Last lap - LeClerc is 1.3 behind.”

“Fucking hell,” she muttered. She drove defensively, holding him back and using the water on the track to her advantage to obscure his vision, and she crossed the line, just in front of him. 

“That’s P3, Beth. Well done. Excellent job today.”

Imola Grand Prix: Beth Sanderson P3, Carlos Sainz P6, Charles LeClerc P4, Lewis Hamilton P2

As Beth drove her final lap, and pulled into the 3rd place position, she couldn’t bring herself to celebrate with the others. She clapped them both on the shoulder, and left, heading inside to weigh-in. After, her helmet was taken by someone, and she was shuttled straight out for press. She waited with Lewis as Max was interviewed first. She couldn’t bring herself to say anything, but Lewis knew from her eyes that she was mad. 

She’d given up P2 for him, and Lewis hadn’t been able to take that top spot away from Max. 

“What happened, you were so far ahead to start with,” he asked quietly, covering his mouth with his hat. 

“A team decision was made without telling me. I found out I was getting wet tyres as I left the pit lane.” Her tone was short, clipped, and whilst Lewis didn’t understand her aversion to those tyres, he could understand the frustration of the lack of communication. He was called over to interview before he could come up with a response, and Beth just waited, Charles coming up beside her a few minutes later. 

“Nice one, on the podium again,” he smiled, and hadn’t seen her anger. 

“Yeah well could be better,” she replied, and made her way over to the interview as she was beckoned. 

“How did that go for you? Sounded tense on the radio for a while there.”

“Well, we had a couple of issues, as I’m sure you saw, but since I am yet to speak with my engineers or the pit crew, I don’t really have a lot to comment. I didn’t see the data, but I could feel the car.”

“Regardless, a P3 finish is very good, a strong weekend for the team on points.”

“For sure, and it’s good for the team in the constructors if we can keep up this kind of behaviour on the race day, but I mean, I’m still new to Mercedes, so it’s natural we have a couple of kinks to figure out.”

“We won’t keep you from your podium, congratulations.”

She forced a smile and walked away, heading for the driver’s cool down room. She pulled out her hair from the braid, and put it in a ponytail, tugging it through the back of the third place cap.  

“You drove well,” Lewis reminded her. “Rain’s a tough one on everyone.”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” she replied, putting a smile on as they were called up to the podium. “It’s done now, can only learn for next time.”

Lewis nodded, and put a hand on her shoulder. She shook her head ever so slightly, and he instantly let go. Beth walked out onto the stage, trying her hardest to match the enthusiasm of the crowd as she took her spot at third, and accepted her trophy. 

They watched Max take the stage, and sprayed the champagne, and Beth tried to be pleased that two Mercedes were on the podium, and she was doing well in her first season with Mercedes. But she was angry with the team for making that decision without telling her. It could have been her first win. She showered in her driver’s room, and headed into the tech room, taking her seat at the desk and rewatching her mistakes of the race. It wasn’t long before Toto called her into his office. 

She bit her tongue, waited for him to speak first. To see how this conversation was going to play out. 

“We should have told you,” Toto conceded. 

“Why did I need them anyway? I was holding first, I was holding my gap to Max.” 

“The rain got heavier, we didn’t want to have to pit you twice.”

Beth sighed. “I don’t need wet tyres, I never used them before this weekend. Never had to.”

“So you said, but driving a Williams and driving a Mercedes are two very different things,” Toto reminded her, and Beth held her tongue, hearing the double meaning in his words. Push me too far, and you’ll be back in a Williams.

“I just want to be told. Asked my opinion would be great, but told at minimum.” 

Toto nodded. “I wanted to also say, we shouldn’t have switched the two of you out there. If at the end, you’d been closer, we would have switched you back.”

Beth shook her head. “You actually think Lewis would have given me that place back? It’s not in his nature; I could see I was failing with those tyres, and the grip changes threw me off, that’s why I let him past. He wouldn’t have done it.” She paused, glancing out over the analysts. “Can I get back to it? I need to finish watching my replays.”

“Just head out, get some rest; we’ll go over it back home Tuesday.”

She nodded, and left, without saying a word. 

***

When she got back to her hotel room, she wasn’t in the mood for company, but apparently, that was out of her control. Lewis was already at her door, and she’d run into Charles in the lobby, who insisted that he needed to speak to her. 

“I don’t understand why you were so angry,” Charles said, as Beth entered her room, closely followed by the two men. “You finished on the podium, your second of the season.” 

Before Beth could reply, there was a knock at her door. Lewis let Carlos in, and she sighed. Carlos took in Beth’s stony expression and Charles’ confusion and paused. “This is not a celebration?”

“I was leading that race,” she said, staring absently out the window. “I was good on those tyres, and the team chose to change to the wets without telling me. I was coming out the box before they said anything. Everything I’d figured out about Imola in the rain was useless and I couldn’t catch him back up.”

“Your issue with wet weather tyres is insane - better traction is always a good thing,” Lewis argued. 

“You can shush,” she said, glaring at him. “The team told me to switch places, because Lewis could catch and overtake Max.” She shook her head more to herself than any of them. “The data showed I had more control over the car on the tyres I chose. I could have done it.”

“And you could save shunted straight into a fucking wall!” Lewis almost shouted, his anger finally getting the better of him. “Don’t you understand? The team put you in those tyres because nobody wanted to see you in an accident. If they hadn’t done it, and you’d have crashed, they would have been criticised that they were in the wrong and it was their fault you crashed.”

“I guess we’ll never know.”

“Fucking hell, you are so stubborn,” Charles cried. “Lewis is telling you it was stupid, can’t you accept that?”

“You’re telling me you never get angry when your team makes a decision you disagree with?” she retaliated. 

“Not when I know I could have crashed.”

“I wouldn’t have crashed,” she insisted. 

“Ay, cariña, you don’t know. But there is a reason every other car out on track had wet weather tyres on,” Carlos tried to explain. 

“Every other car was behind me for the first half of that race!”

“You are acting like such a spoilt child; I’m sorry that Mercedes were trying to keep you in one piece,” Lewis scoffed. 

“Get out,” she said, not looking at any of them. When no one moved, she just waited, not saying anything else. The silence stretched on, and the men glanced between each other, not knowing how best to continue this conversation. 

“Beth, come on,” Charles tried, and when she turned around, she had tears forming in her eyes. 

“You know what, I’ve been called every name under the sun, and maybe they’re all right about me. Slut. Whore. Bitch. A pathetic attempt at equality in Formula 1.” She walked over to where Lewis was standing, staring at him. His anger had softened, but hers was still strong. “But don’t you dare insinuate that I’ve had everything in life handed to me. Don’t you fucking dare.”

She took a deep breath. “Get out.”

***

Chapter Text

“I was wrong, okay?” Lewis said, as she walked past him in the garage, barely acknowledging him. She’d been avoiding being at the simulator at the same time as him, changing her schedule around so they couldn’t be at the same meeting. 

She paused. Turned back to face him. 

“Driver’s room,” she told him, and continued walking. He followed, and the second she closed the door behind them, he was full of apologies. She held up a hand. “Lewis, we both said shitty things. I wasn’t mad about the fact you finished higher than me, it wasn’t fair for me to react like that.”

“And I know you’re not spoilt, I never should have said it.” Lewis grabbed her hand and squeezed it. “Beth, I was angry at the team too, they shouldn’t have done that, but in the heat of the moment in the race, I couldn’t argue.”
 
She nodded. “I know.” Beth pulled him into a hug, and he reciprocated. “At least there shouldn’t be any rain this weekend, right?”

Lewis laughed, and she pulled away from him. 

“This is true,” he responded. “But drive like hell anyways, yeah?”

“Oh, of course. I’m determined to get what I could have last race. Either 1 or 2 for me.” 

Lewis nodded, and then they were both called out to warm up for practices. 

As she warmed, she was tiring quickly, brain a little foggy and a little lethargic. But as soon as she was in the car, adrenaline carried her through. She gave the car a good run, getting good data for the weekend. She carried herself through Saturday too, head in the game, focusing on training, and try desperately hard to ignore how tempting it was to go to Lewis’ or Charles’ or Carlos’ hotel room each night to think about something other than racing. 

Qualifying: Beth Sanderson P5, Carlos Sainz P6, Charles LeClerc P4, Lewis Hamilton P2

She completed all her post-qualifying interviews, though her temper felt markedly shorter than usual. She went through all the data, trying to find weaknesses, and where she could change her line, get better corners. She worked on it, and going through everything until Toto found her still in the garage, and sent her home to sleep. 

“Let us do our jobs, and you do yours, which is making sure your body is ready for the race.”

She smiled, and nodded, leaving the race mind at the track, and trying to relax. But she ached from the day, and found it difficult to fall asleep that night.

Miami Grand Prix: Beth Sanderson P2, Carlos Sainz P5, Charles LeClerc P3, Lewis Hamilton P4

Beth finished P2, her best result so far this season. So, why she wouldn’t get out the car was a mystery to her engineers, to Lewis, and to the two Ferrari men who had come over to congratulate her. 

“What’s up? Aren’t you thrilled?” Carlos asked, and she threw her gloves at him. He blinked at her, without comprehension. Max, the race winner, came over, seeing the crowd her car was attracting. 

“Beth, did something go wrong?” Lewis asked gently, but she ignored him. Maybe it was unfair of her to expect them to know what was going on, but nothing in her mind was clear. “Are you hurt?” 

“Just get out the car - have your tantrum later about not being first,” her lead engineer told her, his impatience winning out. Charles was still watching her with those analytical eyes, trying to figure her out like a puzzle. 

“Fuck. You. All.” She growled, hoisting herself up out the car, without turning back around to see the mess her period had likely made all over the car. As she stood up for the first time in over two hours, she could feel everything running down her legs, into her shoes, and maybe even leaving a trail behind her. 

“Ay, you’re bleeding! What happened?” Carlos asked, jogging a few steps after her before pulling up short. Beth didn’t turn around, only put her middle finger up over her shoulder. Yes, she would probably be fined for that, but she didn’t care. Someone came up behind her, and she threw her elbow back, only for them to catch it. 

“Calm down, I’m trying to help,” Max muttered in her ear, “Keep walking, and we’ll get somewhere without cameras before this is all anyone remembers about today.”

With a face like thunder, she and Max made it through the Mercedes garage without any incidents, and to Beth’s driver room. 

“I’ll wait here,” Max said, when she turned back to him. “They can’t do podium trophies without one and two.” 

The gratitude on her face said everything she wanted to, and Max nodded. 

She cleaned herself up, changed into a new racesuit, and considered throwing the other one in the bin, but stuffed it into her bag to get cleaned herself. She didn’t need any of the staff to be involved in washing her bloodied clothes. 

Max was waiting when she was done, and, in the privacy away from the cameras, she kissed his cheek, softly. 

“Thank you, Max; I think you were about the only one there to understand.”

“It’s alright. But let’s not keep them waiting any longer.” 

Back out in the paddock, they were both instantly called into interviews, and everyone wanted to know why they disappeared. Max looked to her for the answer. 

“I started my menstrual cycle during the race. Next question please.” 

Every time someone probed her for more information, she answered the same, refusing to let that be the only thing anyone spoke about her best yet Formula 1 result. 

And then they were on the podium, Max in first, Beth in second and Charles in third. She barely looked at Charles, until they were soaking each other in champagne, and everything felt right. 

As the adrenaline wore off, the cramps kicked in. And when Carlos was waiting outside her driver’s room after all those interviews she had struggled through, she had all the energy to fight it out with him, whatever he was going to say. 

“¿Estás bien, cariña?” Carlos asked, [are you alright, love?]

“No, no estoy bien. Everything hurts, Carlos, and this is all anyone is going to remember about today, and fuck, you know what’s worst?” She asked, as he stood there, blinking at her, waiting for all her to get all her anger out. 

“It was Max who helped - not you, not Charles, not Lewis. I thought we were closer than that.” 

“Cariña, please, don’t be like this,” Carlos tried. “I’m sorry but I didn’t know what was happening.”

All the fight and argument left her all at once. 

“Look, it’s fine. But I’m in pain, and I really want to be alone now.” 

Carlos tried to take her hand. Beth didn’t resist, but made no move to hold it back. “Can I at least get you back to your hotel?” 

She nodded, a little defeatedly, and beckoned him inside the room. He was already dressed casually, having finished interviews earlier than her. 

“I’ll be just a minute,” she told him, and Carlos nodded, pulling out his phone. By the time she was changed and ready to leave, where she had left one Ferrari driver, there were two. 

“Charles,” she said, tonelessly. “What do you want?” 

“I’m sorry I did not see what was happening,” Charles started, “and I’m sorry I left it to Max to be the one to help you.” 

“Okay, great,” she replied, without inflection. “I’m leaving now, Carlos, you coming or not?” 

“Sí,” he replied, clapping his teammate on the shoulder as they both walked past him. Carlos texted Charles less than a minute later. 

Carlos Sainz:

Don’t stress, I am only getting her back to the hotel. She does not want company tonight

Charles LeClerc:

Thank you. See you tomorrow for briefing.

As Charles left her driver’s room, he ran into Lewis. 

“Hey mate, what’s up? She alright?”

Charles nodded. “She’s gone back to the hotel to sleep it off, but was pretty pissed at us.” 

They kept talking as they walked through the paddock, heading for the exit. 

“I just didn’t think - she’s told me before she doesn’t get her cycle during the race season,” Lewis said, running a hand through his hair. 

“What did you think blood running down her legs was? Just be thankful Mercedes doesn’t wear white anymore.” Max asked, falling into step beside them. “Regardless of what you thought it was, she needed a reaction from one of you, or Sainz, rather than for you to stand and stare.” He glanced around. “Where is she, anyway?”

“Already gone, wanted to be alone,” Lewis supplied, and Max sighed. 

“And you believe her? Mate, do you know anything about women?” Max paused, looking like he was trying to figure something out, without all the information. “I’m guessing you’re all fucking her, but is one of you dating her?”  

Charles and Lewis looked at each other, and Max shook his head, as if the answer was going to be too complicated, and he didn’t actually care. 

“Anyway, whoever, go to the store, buy chocolate, ice cream, pain killers and let her know that despite how stupid you were earlier, you do care.” 

With that, Max walked off, taking out his phone and answering it. 

Lewis and Charles looked at each other. “You know which room she’s in?” Charles asked, and Lewis nodded. 

“Let’s go then.”

***

As Carlos and Beth reached her hotel room, she was exhausted. 

“Can I do anything, cariña?” Carlos asked, as she rummaged in her bag for her keycard. “We can watch a movie, or something?” 

“Sure, but I’m probably gonna fall asleep soon anyway.”

A couple of minutes after they were settled on the sofa, there was a knock at her door. Carlos smiled up from his phone, and jerked his head towards the door. 

“For you,” he said, and she groaned, moving from her comfortable spot to answer the door. When she answered the door, and Lewis and Charles were there, all her favourite snacks, ice cream and a new hot water bottle in their arms, she burst into tears. 

“Fuck, that wasn’t supposed to upset you,” Lewis said, and she pulled them both inside. 

“I’m not upset, just hormonal,” she explained, “I was so fucked early, I’m sorry for being a bitch.”

Charles put the things down on the coffee table, and pulled her into his arms. “Mon cherié, we understand. We just want to help.”

She nodded into his chest. “Thank you,” she murmured. She hugged Lewis, then curled back up on the sofa. Lewis filled the hot water bottle for her, and Charles sat next to her, running a gentle hand over her leg. When she had to run to the bathroom to throw up, Lewis was right behind her, holding back her hair and rubbing soothing circles on her back. 

“Come on, bed,” Lewis persuaded, “Try and sleep through some of this, babe, yeah?” 

She nodded, and allowed herself to be put to bed, but didn’t let go of his hand. 

“I’m going to be going back home tomorrow,” she managed to say. “But thank you for this.” 

“Do you want someone to stay?” he asked gently, but she shook her head. 

“You should come to Spain early,” she said instead. “My house, I’ll send you the address, come over whenever.”

“Yeah, babe, I will,” Lewis replied, and kissed her head. “Get some sleep, okay?”

She could hear them all moving around in her room, but she was asleep before anyone tried to say anything else.

***

Chapter Text

A few miles from the circuit of Barcelona-Cataluña, Beth owned a house. She loves it, one of her first F1 seasons bought her this house. And when they race here, she often has a party, either before or after the race. Mostly after, since then they can all let loose a little, have less stress for the coming weekend. This time, she had a party scheduled for the Sunday night, to celebrate whoever would win the race, but also had a smaller affair scheduled, on Wednesday, for just her, Carlos, Charles and Lewis. Lewis was the unpredictable one, she didn’t know if he was going to show up. 

Carlos had come early, he had been staying with her the night before - both of them went to Spain as soon as the Miami GP had ended - Carlos for family, and Beth for her sanity, as she rode out her period. Race season made her unpredictable, and when she was unpredictable, she never knew how long a period might last. Anything between three days and two weeks. But by Wednesday morning, she was done with it, and was ready to have her boys over. 

“I didn’t know you could cook,” Charles commented, after Carlos let him in, and they both found Beth in the kitchen. 

“She’s been in here all day, wouldn’t let me near.” Carlos reached for something she had laid on the counter, and she slapped his hand with a spatula. Carlos made an indignant sound, and Beth raised her brows, lifting the knife she had in the other hand. “Point taken,” he grumbled, sitting down at the island. 

“What makes you think I can’t cook?” she asked, turning her gaze to Charles. 

“I do not know, I just never thought about it,” he replied honestly, and she smiled. 

“I worked any job I could get to pay for my karting,” she said, “anything from washing dishes, to filling in for a chef, to working a shop, a bar. Anything to earn enough to get my through the costs of it.”

“So, what is Chef Sanderson cooking for us tonight?” 

She grinned. “So I have specific things for everyone - I spoke to your guys dieticians, making sure I was following what you could eat.” She slid a notepad across the counter: each of their names had a dish attached, the caloric intake from it and any notes they had given her. “Wouldn’t want anyone to not qualify for the weekend because of my cooking.”  

Charles came around the island, and kissed her. “You thought of everything, mon chérie,” he whispered. Carlos watched them, feeling his trousers suddenly more constricting than usual. 

“No sex before dinner,” Beth said, pointing at Carlos with a spatula, as if she could see through the table. 

“That’s an interesting rule you got there,” Lewis said, walking into the room. “You left the door unlocked, and I recognised those cars in the driveway.”

Charles moved away, a blush creeping up his cheeks. 

“This is a nice house,” Lewis added, eyes wandering around the room. Charles slid back into his seat next to Carlos, and the Spaniard grinned, shoving him playfully with his elbow. “You’re cooking?” Lewis asked, and then nodded his approval as he caught sight of her scribbles about diets. 

“Honestly, why does no one expect me to be able to cook?”

“Because, typically, Formula One drivers have very little talent outside of racing,” Lewis said bluntly. “It’s a very well-earnt stereotype for the majority, and I bet, you ask most of the drivers to cook, and they can’t, or can’t do much, because they spend so much time not at home.”

“Okay, well, I worked my arse off in kitchens to pay for karting, so I know how to cook,” she replied, shrugging as she turned back to the stove. 

She forced a smile back on her face as she turned back to them a couple minutes later, at a point in the meal where she could leave it alone for a bit. 

“How are you doing?” Lewis asked, as she tossed him a bottle of sparkling water. “Miami was rough.”

“Fine now,” she smiled. “Period’s done, will most likely show up again at some other inconvenient point, but I’m no longer in pain.”

“Good,” Lewis said. “I’m glad you’re okay.” 

They fell into silence as Beth grabbed herself a drink, before suggesting they sit in the living room. 

“Why’d you move here?” Charles asked. “I just assumed you lived in England.”

Beth shrugged. “I like it here - in England, everyone knows who you are, there’s nowhere you can go without publicity following. Here, I can go into town, and unless it’s race weekend, no one knows who I am, and I can live a normal life. As soon as I was 18, I moved out here - I rented a flat in town for a while, then as soon as I was clear of debt, I bought this place,” she said, glancing around the room. 

“Can we get the tour?” Lewis asked, and she nodded, standing up. 

As they walked around the house, she pointed bits out to them - the converted gym downstairs, her 2020 gaming set-up when she’d been stuck here alone, all the top-floor bedrooms she didn’t use unless it was race weekend or holidays. 

“Fuck that hotel, I’m staying here,” Lewis said, as he saw the entire corridor of unused bedrooms. He started opening doors, and Charles and Carlos joined in, trying to bag the best room, when Lewis reached the final door of the corridor. 

“Babe, why is this one locked?” 

She waved them off. “It’s just my office, work-related stuff.” 

“Can we see?” Carlos asked, and Beth shrugged. 

“Guess so, most of it is old stuff, Toro Rosso and Williams-related strategies,” she said, when Lewis raised a brow. 

All the walls were covered in papers, or had be written on, all about her strategy to get signed with a better team. One wall was old races, following Mercedes, Red Bull and Ferrari from the outside, trying to figure out what the drivers had over her. 

Beth had forgotten how many of Lewis’, Carlos’ and Charles’ races she’d kept. There was a healthy scattering of Max and Sebastian on the walls. 

“Now, I swear, this is less stalkerish than it looks,” she laughed. “I just wanted to know what you had that I didn’t.” 

“You have it all,” Lewis said, eyes trailing around the room. “You always have, and now you just have the car to match it.” She grinned. 

“Okay, well, choose a room, and get your stuff moved here,” she said, before wandering off back downstairs, leaving them to fight it out for the best rooms. 

***

At some point during the night, Beth ended up sleeping on the sofa in the living room, the opposite end of the house from where the guys were sleeping. But she kept waking up, hot sweats or cold flashes; something was unsettled in her mind, and sleep felt impossible. 

She got up, and went to grab some water, walking around in the dark on muscle memory. Then the light turned on, and-

“Fucking hell,” Lewis exclaimed, a hand on his chest. “What you doing creeping around in the dark?” 

“This is my house, I know where everything is, I don’t need the lights,” she replied. Then she got a closer look at him, “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, fine,” he said, waving his hand. She set down her glass, and walked over to him. She took his face in her hand, pulling his gaze so it was meeting her eyes. 

“You’re not alright,” she stated, and this time he didn’t argue back. “So I’m going to give you a few options. You can tell me to fuck off and mind my own business, and I will. You can want company, but not talk about it. You can want to talk about it.” She smiled softly. “What’s is going to be?” 

“The second one,” he murmured, and she nodded, grabbing a bottle of water out the fridge for him, before dragging him by the hand to the sofa. 

“You sleeping here?” he asked, and she pulled the blanket over them. 

“Yeah, sometimes,” she said. “These sofas are really comfortable.” 

“Why buy a house here? I thought you’d buy something in England, honestly.”

She sighed, shrugging. “I used to have a flat near Newcastle, but I barely used it. Winter break I’d spend more time with family or on holidays, and during the summer, who would want to be so far north I might waste my whole summer with rain?” She smiled, nudging his shoulder. “You can stay here whenever you want, I’m here most of the time, or visiting friends.”

Lewis rested his head on her shoulder, and she laced her fingers with his. 

“Do you wanna watch a film?” 

“Yeah, okay,” he replied, and she turned on the TV, sticking on the first thing that came up on Netflix. 

They stayed quiet for a while, watching the film, and Beth could feel Lewis’ breathing evening out, like he was falling asleep. She heard footsteps behind her, and then Charles was sitting next to her on the sofa. She put a finger to her lips, trying her best not to jostle Lewis. 

“What is this?” Charles whispered, pointing to the TV. 

“I don’t know, just some random Spanish film that came up.” She looked at him, then tried to take his hand, but he pulled back. “Are you alright?” she asked gently, and he shook his head. 

“No, I am not ok, but it looks like you have your hands full with Lewis,” Charles said, standing up. “I’ll go.”

“Cha, no,” she said, and he stood in front of her, looking down. “Tell me what’s wrong.” 

“Goodnight, Beth,” he said, leaving the room. Beth barely had time to process what was going on with Charles as Lewis started to move around in his sleep, crying. 

“Hey, baby, I got you,” she whispered, hugging him tightly. He woke up, and she stood, still holding his hand. “Come on, let’s go to bed.” She led a half-asleep Lewis to her bedroom, and closed the door. He started taking his clothes off, and Beth caught his hands, before he got any further than taking off his shirt. 

“Sleep,” she said firmly, but Lewis appeared to have other ideas. He kissed her, and she kissed him back, pulling him towards the bed. His hands were everywhere: under her top, trying to pull her clothes off. It was rushed, messy, and whilst the two of them were very familiar with rushed -efficient- sex, Lewis was always strategic with his hands, all his movements, really. Never like this, with so much fumbling and uncertainty. 

She stilled his hands, pushing him so he was lying down in the middle of her bed. Beth straddled his waist, pinning his hands by his sides with her knees. 

“This is not me saying no, but are you sure?” she asked gently, and Lewis couldn’t look her in the eyes. “What is going on with you, baby?” she asked, climbing off his hips, and lying down next to him. 

“I don’t know,” he whispered back. “I just can’t sleep anymore without something bad waking me up.”

“You know you can always talk to me - I don’t care what time it is. This job is so stressful, everyone has to decompress somehow.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Lewis murmured. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be helping you - I’m older, more experienced, been with Mercedes for ages.” 

“You’re not asking, I’m telling you that it’s fine,” Beth insisted. She put a finger over Lewis’ lips as he tried to protest further. “Baby, you’re exhausted, we should be sleeping, okay?” 

Lewis pulled her into his arms, a blanket over them. 

“Thank you,” he whispered into her hair. 

***

When Lewis woke up, it was calmly, and the other side of the bed was empty. He grabbed for his phone, but couldn’t find it - of course, he didn’t start last night in this bed. 

Beth walked back into the room, beaming when she saw him moving about. 

“Oh good, you’re up,” she said, passing him a mug of tea. “How did you sleep?” 

“Better,” he smiled, and she sat down on the edge of the bed. “What time is it?” 

“Nine-thirty ish,” she said, and Lewis raised a brow. “Yeah, that’s pretty good going, no?” 

She put her tea down, and Lewis followed suit, before pulling her onto his lap, and kissing her. 

“I’ve been thinking,” Lewis said, as he was unbuttoning her shirt. “We should do something today, with the guys too.” 

“You’re thinking about Carlos and Charles as we’re about to fuck?” Beth teased, her hips grinding down against him. “Maybe I should tell them that, Carlos would be so excited.”

Lewis’ shock made her laugh. “I’m only joking,” she assured him, pulling her shirt over her head. She pushed him back against the pillow. “That’s your decision baby, and feel free to tell me I’m taking this too far and to fuck off.”

She leant down and kissed him again, smiling to herself as she could feel his cock under her. 

“Someone’s excited this morning,” she murmured, “Clothes off, Sir Hamilton.” 

“I could get used to you calling me that,” Lewis said, giggling as they both threw off their clothes then fell back into bed. 

“Oh, of course,” she murmured, “Sir Lewis, please, fuck me,” she teased, and ran her hand up and down his length. “Jesus, that actually turns you on, doesn’t it?” 

Lewis turned his face away, suddenly embarrassed, staring at the wall. Beth took his face in her hands, and turned him so he was facing her. “I’m only teasing, babe,” she said, kissing him. “You’re adorable when you’re embarrassed, but, I’m not gonna call you Sir all the time,” she said, in the way where she’d set her boundary. “Not whilst we’re fucking anyway. Maybe just to get at you in interviews or when you least expect me to.”

“You never have to,” Lewis insisted, and Beth shrugged. 

“I’ll have to take you by surprise instead,” she replied, and clambered on top of him, straddling him, as she gently lower herself onto him, clenching involuntarily as he filled her. He moaned, then flipped them, Laying Beth down on her back and bracing his arms either side of her head. 

“You know, we don’t often do this in an actual bed,” he remarked, sliding in and out of her lazily, even as Beth dug her fingers into his back, unable to show the same level of restraint as Lewis as she tried to stifle moans. 

“Too. Much. Talking.” She punctuated each word with a kiss, and Lewis smiled, capturing her mouth again as he set an unyielding pace, Beth shifting around him and moving her legs so he could go deeper, crying out at the feeling of being stretched by him. 

She was so almost there, when Lewis stopped, and Beth whined. 

“Make the most of the bed, right?” he winked, somehow still having so much control over himself. 

“You dick,” she managed, the high of her almost-orgasm fading. Beth moved quickly, without Lewis expecting it, so he couldn’t fight back. She moved, leaving him in the bed and her standing next to it, and he shifted over to her, not understanding what she was doing. Beth was feeling manipulative, and pulled him over, sinking to her knees in front of him. 

“Beth,” Lewis said, as he realised what she was doing.  His next words turned into a groan as she took him in her mouth, sucking him off for all she was worth. This was the first time she’d done this with him, like some next level in their intimacy. Beth barely let herself consider the idea of all the lines she could be crossing, only hearing his noises and knowing he wasn’t unhappy with her. She looked up at him through her lashes, and he bucked his hips involuntarily, cock bumping against the back of her throat. 

“Shit, I’m sorry-” She cut him off with a sinful moan, the sound going straight to his cock. He might have been the one teasing her earlier, but she was in control now. 

As soon as she felt him stiffen further, body locking up in the way she knew his did when he was close to orgasm, she pulled away, watching as Lewis almost came but didn’t, falling back on the bed, cock red and leaking. 

“Two can play at that game, Lewis, don’t forget,” Beth smirked, standing up. “Now, fuck me properly, will you?” 

Lewis quickly obliged, dragging her into the bed, and burying himself in her quickly. Rough was how she liked it, and she moved her legs until he was inside her to the hilt. She moved her leg to resting on his shoulder, out the way so she could feel all of him inside her. She moaned at the fullness, and he moved quickly, thrusting in an out, their moans mingling in the air, each other’s sweat slicking their naked bodies. 

She was quickly close to her climax, and as she came around him, he continued to fuck her, drawing out her orgasm, and as she moaned, Lewis couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He thrust inside her for the final time, and came inside her, all his muscles relaxing and his eyes slipping closed. 

Lewis pulled out of her, and wrapped her in his arms, holding her close. 

“You never cease to amaze me,” he whispered. 

“Oh baby,” she murmured, snuggling into his chest. They stayed there in silence for a while, and Beth was so almost asleep again when her phone rang. 

“Oops,” she said, as she read the caller ID. “I was supposed to log into the simulator this morning.” 

She climbed out of bed, and quickly dressed. “Make yourself at home,” she said, “I gotta do a couple hours of Barcelona circuit, then the rest of my day is clear.”

“Okay, love, have fun.” 

Beth grinned, before heading straight for her simulator room. Mercedes had upgraded her setup, and it was almost as good as the factory. She put her headphones on, and lost herself to the racetrack.

***

Lewis entered her simulator room four hours later, to find Beth still fully engrossed in the practice. She caught his reflection in her screen, and didn’t say anything, just finished the run she was working on. Then, as she crossed the line, she turned around to him, and pulled off her headphones. 

“I am so sorry, what time is it?”

“Just after two - you need to eat something,” he insisted. “Carlos and Charles are cooking, but I don’t know how well this is going to turn out.”

“Okay, I’m coming, I’ll just shut this all down.”

After they’d all eaten, they all headed down to the gym, and completed their usual training requirements. At the end of every work-out Beth did a flexibility session too, keeping all her muscles and joints limber. She did her split stretches - box splits, front splits and, her personal favourite, standing splits. 

“That is very strange,” Carlos remarked, lining all his weights back up in the racks. 

“Gymnastics was my favourite form of exercise to make sure I was the right size for karting. It’s just fun,” she replied, flexing her toes as they were above her head. She brought her leg back down. “Lifting weights bores me, so I’d rather use my own body where I can.”

“Looks a little painful,” Charles remarked. “Anything else you are good at? Or just racing, gymnastics and cooking?”

“Well, I’ve got plenty of talents, but I’d rather surprise you gradually by revealing things later,” she teased, and Charles rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. God, she could lose herself in that smile, the one that met his eyes, that she so rarely saw when they were racing these days. 

Ferrari’s strategy was fucking them both, and whilst neither of them liked it, Carlos could better deal with it. Charles blamed himself for everything, even when it was clearly not his mistake, and his eyes lost that light she could see now.  

As his competition, she wanted to win, whatever it takes, and an advantage of a rival team making poor strategy decisions was something to capitalise on. 

As his friend, she hoped Ferrari wouldn’t fuck up again this weekend.

***

Chapter Text

They drove together to the track on Friday morning, in Beth’s Landrover. The suspension was shit, and driving from her house down the dodgy lanes meant they were all bouncing around. Everyone was laughing though, and Lewis had his hand on her knee. 

“Fuck’s sake,” Beth muttered as she was about to join the main road, and a Guardía car pulled her over. “This is going to be fun.”

“Documentos, por favor, y los pasaportes-” the officer paused, as he took in the faces in the car. “¿Estais de la formula uno?” [Documents please, and passports ... You are from Formula One?]

“Sí,” Carlos said, “vamos al circuito de Barcelona-Cataluña para el practico ahora.” [Yes ... we are going to the Barcelona-Cataluyna circuit for practice now]

“¿Te gusta una foto?” Beth asked, and the man started fumbling around for his phone. [would you like a photo?]

“We’re going to be late,” Lewis murmured lowly, and Beth shrugged. 

“Be glad we’re not being arrested,” she returned, and Charles secreted away a smile. 

The guardía officer found his phone, and they all smiled for the picture. He waved them on their way, and Beth rolled the window back up as they joined the motorway. 

“Does this car have all its paperwork?” Charles asked, and she glanced at him in the rearview mirror. 

“Yeah,” she replied, a little too confidently. “It just may or may not have expired whilst we were in Saudi.”

“Ay, díos mío,” Carlos said, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to drive tomorrow, at least I have insurance on the rental car.”

“Oh, come on, they wouldn’t have actually arrested us,” she laughed, and then glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “Oh shit, we are going to be late though.” She stepped on it, and they arrived into the car park just in time, their managers waiting for them. 

They were quickly shuttled towards the media pen, barely having time to stop off in their respective garages to drop their things and change. 

“What time do you call this?” Max teased, looking at the four of them walking in. 

“Ooh, sorry boss,” Beth said, brows raised, then her face broke into a grin. They were all called into interviews, and Beth lost herself to the press, and the speculation about the race ahead. 

Beth headed towards the Mercedes garage, Lewis not far behind her, as she went to change and warm up for practice. 

The two sessions of the day were relatively normal - there were no crashes, no mechanical failures for any of the teams, no suspect weather to bring out a yellow flag. 

As she got out of the car after FP2, she headed to the media pen. Most of the drivers were to the left side, chatting with the English-speaking reporters, and Carlos, Checo and Fernando were on the right, with the Spanish reporters. She wandered around, stopping off for each scheduled interview. 

“¿Cómo estás?” she asked, sidling up next to Carlos, a little while later. “¿Buena práctica?” [how are you ... good practice?]

“Era interesante,” Carlos replied, with a grin. “¿Y tú?” [it was interesting ... and you?]

“La coche está muy rápida pero es un poco desequilibrado,” she replied, glancing at the cameras, and the stunned faces of the Spanish reporters. They continued Carlos’ interview together, both answering the questions, and chatting conversationally. [the car was very fast but a little unbalanced]

“¿Dónde aprendiste español, Beth?” the reporter asked.  [where did you learn Spanish?]

“En Argentina,” Beth answered shortly, face tensing slightly. Carlos’ media manager led them away, and Beth slipped out of the media pen before Carlos could say anything. He glanced around, and only saw her back, as she headed away from the cameras. He smiled at her turned back, before allowing himself to be dragged into another interview. 

*

As they all got back to Beth’s house, another car pulled into the drive behind them. Beth didn’t move, but as the figure got out the car, she recognised him. 

“Max?” she said, as she got out the car. 

“So this is where you live?”

“You know, you could have just asked if you could come over, rather than stalking me,” she smiled. 

“Why do you live here?” Max asked, as Beth let them all inside.  “I mean, house is nice, but big for one person, no?”

“Yeah, I had to get out of the UK as soon as I was 18, and I had no money, so Spain was a pretty good option at that point. I love it, and yeah it’s a big house, but I don’t mind the empty space.” She didn’t add that the empty space was the opposite of her childhood, and that was why she loved it. 

She let them all inside, ditching her bag on the hallway floor. 

“I’m going to shower, make yourself at home,” she said, heading off down the hall and leaving the four of them to wander into the living room. 

“She acting strange?” Max asked, sitting in one of the armchairs. 

“Why do you think that?” Lewis asked, heading for the kitchen. 

“Just never seen her so happy during press before,” Max replied. “It’s weird.”

Carlos laughed, looking up from his phone. “She’s happy and you find it odd?”

“Not that she shouldn’t be happy, just the press is usually pretty difficult for Beth.”

“She just loves this circuit, being at home whilst she’s here,” Lewis smiled. “It’s the same most of us are going to feel in Monaco next week. Being in our own space and not a hotel.”

Charles had left the men in the living room, caught up in his own mind as he always was at his teammate’s home race. He ended up outside Beth’s bedroom, desperately hoping she might understand. It wasn’t that she wanted Carlos to do badly, and of course, they would be in Monaco next week, but he wasn’t in his normal mindset. 

He knocked tentatively on her door. 

“Come in,” she called, and Charles pushed the door open, glancing around, eyes falling on Beth, half-dressed, sitting on the edge of her bed, laptop open in front of her. The oddness of her, clearly distracted by something work related whilst she wore very little clothes, had him snap out of his bad mood. 

“What’s up?” she asked, glancing at him and flashing him a smile, before returning her attention to the computer. 

“Just checking in,” he sat on the bed, and Beth shut the laptop with an apologetic smile. 

“Michael sent me some of the data from today, just reading through their assessment,” she explained, and Charles nodded. She bumped her shoulder against his. “Charles, is something wrong?” 

He was uncharacteristically quiet, and Beth waited patiently, knowing that sometimes, he got so caught up inside his head that he found it difficult to form the right words. 

She reached over, and took his hand in hers, interlocking their fingers. 

“It’s always difficult here, with Carlos,” Charles said finally, trying to articulate his thoughts without sounding like he hated Carlos. Because he could never hate Carlos. 

“Difficult how?” 

“We have to be so careful around the home races, and it shouldn’t matter, but strategy-wise, it’s difficult to stick to the plan around home fans,” Charles said, and Beth placed a finger over his lips. 

“Babe, I love that you want to talk to me, but please be careful with the details,” she whispered. “I don’t need to hear about your race strategy, okay?”

Charles’ eyes widened, as he frantically tried to think of what he might have already given away. 

“You’re all good, Char, you didn’t say anything,” Beth assured him. “You’re just good at oversharing your strategies sometimes.”

He nodded slowly, but Beth’s mind was spinning, even as she tried not to decipher what he had been trying to say. That Ferrari was worrying about the fan’s reaction to their strategy, rather than fixing all their issues? Home race was home race, but it wasn’t more important than the Constructor’s championship. 

So, to stop herself from exploiting information from an obviously-vulnerable Charles, she kissed him, pushing her laptop away and twisting her fingers into his hair. He pulled her closer, until she moved into his lap, pressing their bodies closer, as close as they could be while still in their clothes. 

Beth’s fingers found the hem of Charles’ shirt, lifting it up, their lips breaking, only as she took his shirt off, slinging it to some unknown corner of the room. Neither of them made any move to take off any more clothes, and Beth’s hands roamed over Charles’ chest as they just kissed. 

“Beth, I need to talk-” Max’s voice carried towards them, and he opened her door, halting in place. Neither Beth nor Charles moved, startled, as if they’d forgotten there were other people in the house. “Ha, okay then,” Max said, eyes averted as he walked backwards out of the room, and shut the door carefully behind him. 

With red and swollen lips, Beth jumped off Charles’ lap, but she couldn’t help but smile.

“Fuck, it’s like being a teenager all over again, do you remember?” 

Charles laughed. “Yeah, when we were in F2 together, biggest rivals, who got caught making out by a couple of engineers.” He smiled wryly. “Couldn’t get away with that now, not in public. We’d be sold out to the media within minutes.”

“Oh yeah, can you imagine?” Beth shook her head, smiling. “We should go and eat, and focus on the race weekend, yeah?”

Charles nodded, and Beth pulled on some clothes, throwing Charles’ shirt back to him. 

***

They headed to track in two cars the next day - Carlos drove his hire car, and Max his. Beth rode in with Max, scrolling absent-mindedly through twitter, watching the world’s reaction to her interviews the previous day. 

“You really should ignore what people say,” Max commented, glancing briefly at Beth, eyes glued to her phone. 

“It’s mostly harmless, quite good, really,” she replied, but turned her phone off nonetheless. “Less than fifty percent creepy, sexualising or hateful.”

“Your benchmark is quite high,” Max remarked, but shrugging, added, “I don’t know what my socials even look like these days. That is what your PR and social media managers are for.”

“Eh, I can handle it,” Beth said nonchalantly. 

“Okay, sure,” Max conceded, knowing she was too stubborn for her own good. But, she didn’t look at her phone again, instead staring out the window.

“So,” Max started, a couple of minutes later. “You and Charles?” 

Beth shot him a glare, but she couldn’t stop from laughing a little at Max’s expression. 

“I owe Daniel fifty euros now,” Max grumbled, and Beth whacked his arm. “What? I was so sure you wouldn’t be sleeping with him, but apparently Daniel knows you better than I do.”

“Danny got lucky,” Beth rolled her eyes. 

“Nope, I believe that would be Charles.” Beth blushed a little, laughing quietly. 

“Yeah, I suppose Charles did.”

“Just,” Max said, turning to her as they hit a red light. “Be careful with him, alright? He’s a sensitive guy.”

“I know, Max. I told him upfront what I could give him, and he agreed.” Beth lost herself in those thoughts, wondering if Charles hadn’t thought it through, if she was going to hurt him, as they approached the track. 

“Good luck, yeah?” he said, as he parked the car. 

“Cheers, Maxie. Good luck to you too.” As Beth got out the car, she pulled her headphones on, and headed to the garage. Time to focus. 

***

Qualifying: Beth Sanderson P4, Carlos Sainz P6, Charles LeClerc P2, Lewis Hamilton P3

“Rumours have been running around that you and some of the other drivers are staying together,” the interviewer said. 

“Yeah, I have a house near here,” Beth replied, forcing a smile. “Not a permanent residence, but it’s nice around here.”

Beth dodged the other questions about them staying together, and diverted them back to talking about the race. 

“Starting P4 is pretty good - are you excited for the race tomorrow?”

Beth nodded. “Yeah, it’s looking like it’s going to be pretty good, obviously there’s a few in front of me to begin with, but as always, I’m confident in the car, in my team and my ability to drive.”

“And do you believe Mercedes will keep you and Lewis in equal priority? Hamilton and Verstappen are very close in the top.”

She paused, weighing her words. How antagonist could she be, without getting in trouble with her PR manager?

“It’s difficult to predict and prioritise this early in the season, obviously Lewis wants to win an eighth championship, but every drivers wants to win a championship, right?” she smiled, and this time it wasn’t forced. “I don’t know what will happen in a race until we’re racing, but if you have a crystal ball around, I’d love to see.”

Just the right amount of smiles and charm to get away with dodging the question. She headed around to all her interviews in the media pen before escaping and returning to the Mercedes garage. She had her strategy meetings, then the team meeting about the cars with Lewis, before they were released from duties for the rest of the day. 

She hung about with Lewis, chatting with the engineers about anything other than the race tomorrow, doing their best to distract themselves as they waited for Charles, Carlos and Max to be finished with their days. 

When they all returned to her house, she cooked with Carlos, trying to distract herself from the race. After they ate, Max brought out a pack of cards, and they played, until gradually they started dropping off to go to sleep. 

***

“Beth, you’re not supposed to be fighting!” Michael told her down the radio half way through the race, as she was keeping close on Lewis’ tail, looking for an opportunity to overtake. 

“But I’m faster - he’s just defending really damn well.”

“Do not fight with Hamilton!” Michael insisted, and Beth conceded unhappily. A few more laps passed, Beth keeping as close to him as she needed for DRS, but Carlos was catching up to her. 

“Does me not fighting with Hamilton change if I’m going to be overtaken by Sainz?” she said, readying herself to overtake. 

“Leave Lewis in front,” Michael ordered. 

“How can I defend behind and not attack in front?” she asked, unable to regulate the anger in her tone. “This is bullshit order - if Hamilton isn’t fast enough, why you sacrificing both cars?”

“Fine, clear for overtake,” Michael conceded. 

As soon as those words hit her ears, Beth manoeuvred her car, heading past Lewis on the first section she could. Gaining speed down the straights, she increased the gap between herself and Lewis, though she caught a glimpse of the two of them behind her, wheel to wheel trying to gain the upper hand. 

“Tell me who comes out on top,” she said to Michael, and she pushed, widening the gap between her and the fight. 

“Verstappen 2.3 ahead,” Michael told her instead. Beth grinned underneath her helmet. Time to catch up. 

As she closed the gap, the exhilaration of racing filled her veins. She loved this, as she was fighting with Max at the front of the grid, as he tried to defend his position. 

“Final lap, Beth, close it out.” 

They drove wheel to wheel around almost the entire track, so close she almost lost it, almost took off his front win trying to change and cut the driving line. The tension was there, the crowd going wild as they approached the final straight towards the line. 

“That’s a P2, Beth. Only a hundredth off.”

“Shit, okay. Let’s take a look at the data, see where I fucked it.”

The radio stayed quiet as she completed the final cool-down lap, and pulled her car into the 2nd-place spot. She spotted Max, and when he smiled at her, she couldn’t help but smile back. Yes, she might be second, the first loser, but she was also fighting for the wins, and keeping up pace with a world champion who had a better car. 

“Good racing at the end, no?” she said, pulling off her helmet. 

“It was exciting for sure,” Max replied, his own helmet hanging loosely from his fingertips. “You got stuck behind Lewis for ages,” he said, pointing to the screen in the cool down room. 

“Team orders work in his favour,” she said, with a small shake of her head. “Maybe in your too, I might have beat you given one more lap.”

Barcelona-Cataluña Grand Prix: Beth Sanderson P2, Carlos Sainz P3, Charles LeClerc P4, Lewis Hamilton P5

Carlos came into the room moments later, grinning. 

“Felicidades, Carlos,” she said, “Home race, with a trophy.” [Congratulations, Carlos]

“Gracias, Beth,” he replied, “Lewis está despacio hoy, no?” [Thank you ... Lewis is slow today, no?]

“Sí, la estrategia fue muy mala para él. Pero, está bien para mí,” she grinned. [Yes, the strategy was very bad for him. But, it is good for me]

Max rolled his eyes as he glanced between the two of them. It wasn’t surprising to him that she spoke Spanish so convincingly that she could be Spanish - since they had karted together, as they overlapped the age categories, she’d always been one to learn new things outside of racing. Languages were no exception. 

Beth glanced to the cameras that were trained on them, before turning to the replays. Watching a nasty scrape between Lando and Esteban. And it wasn’t long before they were shuttled upwards to the podium. 

Spraying Max and Carlos with champagne on the podium in Barcelona was amazing - the energy of the crowd was huge, and she loved this feeling. Like being on top of the world - the only thing to make it better would be that one step higher, that first place win. 

This year would be her year, she could feel it in her bones. Beth Sanderson was determined to win a race in F1. 

***

Chapter Text

Monaco was full of glamour, as always. As she arrived, at the last possible moment due to an inopportune event with a brand, fans were everywhere, from the airport to the hotel. Charles had invited her earlier, to join him at his house, but Mercedes had already booked her a hotel. 

When she finally made it to the hotel, she ran into Carlos in the same corridor. As two of the few drivers not to live in Monaco, it wasn't surprisingly that they were at the same hotel. 

"¿Hola, qué tal?" Carlos smiled at her down the corridor, taking a suitcase out of her hand.  [hello, how are you?]

"You don't have to," she protested, but Carlos just gave her a look. 

"Cariña, we employ people to help with this, to move things or the hotel does it for us. You don't need to do everything alone." 

Beth shot him a look, but since he was smiling, she must have misread the slight undercut of annoyance in his tone. 

"I don't mind to take my things, its not like its too many bags," Beth firmly replied, pausing outside her hotel room. She pulled the key out of her bra - pocket-less outfits were less than ideal and she had been meaning to buy some new clothes for ages now - and readjusted her breasts, making sure she wasn’t about to fall out of her top. She also tried not to notice how Carlos' body reacted next to hers. Carlos followed her inside, and Beth forced her eyes away from him, trying desperately hard not to notice the bulge in his trousers. She scanned the room, ditching her bags in the middle of the floor. 

Carlos stood somewhat awkwardly the whole time, willing himself to calm down. He was reacting like a fifteen year old boy, for fucks sake. Just from such a small action, and his endless fantasies running wild in his mind. 

"I need some good recommendations for food, any ideas or should I call Charles?" Beth called from the bathroom. 

"I'm not sure, maybe try Charles or Lando, they'll know better than me," Carlos replied. He bit his lip to hold back a groan as Beth came out the bathroom, wearing only her bra and underwear. She clearly thought nothing of it, she had always been like this, but something in the air today was making Carlos' level of control much lower than usual. 

She started to open the suitcases, looking for something to wear, but Carlos couldn't just stand here anymore. She beat him to it, though. 

"You're insatiable," she said, without looking up. "Were you turned on before you saw me or is it that easy to catch your attention?" 

Beth stood up, still only in her underwear, and Carlos couldn't help the gaze her stared at her with. Looking up and down her body, drinking in the sight of her curves and physique. 

"So highly strung you can't form any words?" Beth teased, and Carlos stepped forward, only a few inches between them. 

"I can form words," Carlos returned, brow raised, trying his best to be convincing. "Pero, prefería besarte." [but I would prefer to kiss you]

"Vale, luego me besa," Beth murmured, and he did exactly that. He pulled her closer, their bodies pressing together, and Beth could feel exactly how much he lacked control. [okay, then kiss me]

As their lips met, Beth had her hands under his shirt, running her fingers over the planes of his abdomen, up the muscles in his back. She wouldn't go lower and cut this short. Whatever he said, control was something he was low on. 

She pulled at his hair, moving his head to the side and she pressed a line of kisses down his jaw. She unbuttoned his shirt, discarding it somewhere on the floor. 

Carlos was willing his body to calm down. They were kissing - just kissing for fucks sake - and he could feel everything as if his skin was electrified. He palmed himself through his trousers, willing his control to last longer, when Beth grabbed his wrist. 

"¿Creo que es mi trabajo, no?" She asked with a secret smile. Carlos groaned at the mischief on her face.  [I think that is my job, no?]

"¿Vas a estar difícil, Carlos?" Beth purred, and Carlos froze, her voice, that voice, that Argentinian accent dragging through the syllables in his name, driving him right to the edge. [are you going to be difficult, Carlos?]

He attacked her lips with renewed determination, fingers fumbling at her back with her bra, as Beth slowly unlooped his belt. He left her bra to fall to the floor, a chuckle leaving him as a credit card and lip balm also fell. 

His attention fell on her perfect breasts, and his mouth soon followed. Her ran her fingers through his hair as he worked magic with his tongue. 

She dragged him back up to her lips, pressing her body against his, his hard length visible in his trousers, and Beth teased him a little, cupping him from over the top of his clothes, and he moaned into her lips. Beth kept up her ministrations, just light teasing as they kissed.  

He groaned, tense body slumping, and Beth's face, blinked through surprise, a perfect little o forming in her mouth. Even as she tried to school her face back into neutrality, Carlos caught her look. 

The realisation of what just happened hit him. He came in his pants like a teenager, and Beth, had been shocked. He was shocked, not understand why he'd been so worked up today. He immediately pushed her away, putting space between them, and headed for the door. 

"You can't go out there looking like that," Beth managed, her voice hoarse. Carlos froze, catching sight of himself in the mirror. Shirtless, and he'd stained his trousers - fuck! Beth flicked open her case, and produced a pair of sweats that he recognised as his own. As she handed them to him, he jerked away from her touch, and promptly locked himself in the bathroom. Beth had made him come in his pants just from some kissing and her naked body. 

He really needed to get a grip of himself. And to not face Beth, that look of shock and disgust in her eyes as he'd failed to control himself long enough to even be inside her. 

She knocked on the door. 

"Carlos, there's nothing to be embarrassed about," she said, voice soft. "Please come out and we can talk?" 

He didn't trust himself to answer, and didn't want her to lie to him, to tell him its okay. When it really wasn't. 

When he opened the door, Beth was dressed in some shorts and an oversized top, that could belong to Charles. 

"Carlos, please," she tried again, but he mumbled some excuse about a PR appearance, and fled her room. 

*** 

Carlos left her room abruptly, not that she was surprised. She'd tried to assure him that she didn't care, that it happened to everyone, but she also wasn't surprised that he wanted to leave. He'd barely been able to look her in the eye. 

She'd leave him alone for a few hours, she decided, whilst getting dressed. Black jeans, heeled boots and her Mercedes team shirt, as she now was in back to back PR events and meetings until dinner. She met Lewis in the hotel lobby, and headed out. She laughed as Lewis winked, pointing at the electric scooters. 

"Best way to travel in Monaco on a race weekend when half the roads are blocked," Lewis said by way of explanation. And so that's how they did, laughing and weaving around cars until they reached the paddock entrance. Flashing their IDs, Beth and Lewis were met at the gates by their managers, and shuttled towards their first item on the agenda. 

Beth was loving the energy of Monaco. She spent hours and hours with fans, in a way that usually wore her down, but here it didn't. Charles had so much attention, and she didn't envy him, but she was loving it moreso than the previous years, now she was in a top team, and in the running for the championship. 

There were so many videos to film for, and panels to sit on, that Beth just let herself be walked around, heading from one place to another. When she reached the final panel, she glanced at the list of who she was with. Mick, Max, Fernando and Carlos. As Carlos reached the side of the stage, he stopped, swearing under his breath. Fernando glanced at him, brows raised, bur Carlos didn't look at him, only focused on the ground in front of him as they were called out. 

Carlos deliberately positioned himself so he wasn't sitting next to Beth. Whether or not she noticed, he was unsure, but as he'd had the whole day to stew whilst doing his press, not creating the best impression of himself for the fans. And sitting next to her in a room full of journalists whilst he was trying to hold back all of what he needed to say? Disaster waiting to happen and then she truly might hate him. 

So he sat closest to the interviewer, whilst Beth was sandwiched between Mick and Max. 

He could barely pay attention in the interview, and Fernando had to nudge his shoulder when someone asked him a question and he was so spaced out he didn't hear them. 

Beth did her best to ignore the way that Carlos was acting. 

"Beth, there's been rumours about an upgrade package for the Mercedes, any insights for us?" 

"Well," she started, picking up her microphone, "the cars constantly evolving, so we're always adjusting it, but as always,  any upgrades we get, I have faith they'll improve the car and our speed." 

"There's pictures of you and Lewis this morning travelling together, any comments?" Someone else asked her. 

"Is it unusual for teammates to get to races together?" She shot back, brow raised. 

"When he's not in the same hotel?" The reporter responded. 

"I don't think I understand what's going on; he brought those electric scooters as a bit of fun. You're trying to make a story out of nothing," Beth answered, and knew she'd have hell to pay for her tone. She was supposed to be polite and professional, no matter what bullshit they started spewing. 

Beside her, Max was stony faced. He hated this as much as she did, the double standards, and he had much less patience. 

"We're here to race, not to be grilled on our personal lives," Max bit out, not disguising any of his annoyance. 

She shot him an annoyed look. She could practically already see the headlines of some story of their relationship, and his defensiveness being seen as not just from a friend, but a partner. 

"Carlos, you and Beth were seen quite close during a lot of the last race weekend, and spent a lot of the race fighting each other. Anything to say about the constructors battle with Mercedes, and how close you two are in the points?" 

Carlos looked at her for the first time, and she was looking back at him, a small smirk on her lips. 

"Competition is always fun, when you spend so long fighting someone and come out on behind, it's not a good feeling, and you always go into the next race with a particular car you want to beat, to prove yourself." 

"I agree," Beth echoed. "But I'm not going to let him catch up so easily this time." She was grinning, competitive edge sparkling in her eyes, and for a moment, it was almost a normal interaction. Then Carlos broke eye contact, staring at the floor as he put his microphone down. 

Normal moment gone. She caught the rustling of whispers throughout the journalists, and tried to resist rolling her eyes. And just like that, there was another story. 

She ignored him as they left the stage, and he tried to catch her, but instead Beth wad chatting to Max, as he promised to show her some of the better and less known places to eat at some point over the weekend. She didn't notice when he stopped following them, but if he was going to act like a child on stage in front of reporters, then Beth didn't want to talk to him. 

Carlos broke away from them as Charles found him and almost dragged him into the garage. And then straight into his drivers room, locking the door behind them. 

"What is going on with you today?" Charles asked, surprisingly softly. "You're all distracted and acting strange." 

Carlos ran a hand through his hair. Was this something he wanted to talk to Charles about? 

"I'm fine, just tired," he excused and Charles raised a brow, clearly not believing him. 

"If you say so, but I saw how Beth was ignoring you, something happened." 

Carlos' skin crawled. He knew he'd upset her, but for it to be visible from outside? 

"It's nothing," he reiterated. "Can you just drop it, por favor." 

Charles held his hands up in surrender. "Okay mate, no questions." But Carlos didn’t move, didn’t do anything, just stood there, lost inside his own thoughts. HIs face was so sad, so distraught, and Charles couldn’t stand it. He’d seen Carlos in so many ways, seen his anger after a bad race, seen his joy at a podium, and seen his blissed-out expression as he’d orgasmed. And yet, there were still these boundaries between them. 

He caught himself wondering what Carlos’ lips felt like. One of the last lines between them. But Charles couldn’t force himself to move, to act on that desire. Not when Carlos so clearly wasn’t feeling like himself, for whatever reason, whatever had gone down with Beth. 

Charles just stood there, hoping that somewhere in Carlos’ brain, he knew he wasn’t alone. 

* 

Qualifying was tricky - Beth's first lap of Q3 wasn't where she wanted to be, the time at a P6, and in the middle of her flying lap, a red flag was pulled. Beth stopped a couple of metres in front of where the track was blocked, sighing heavily. She'd been on track for the front row, purple sectors so far and the blockage caused by Checo and Carlos had ended Q3 prematurely. 

She was frustrated, but was careful not to take it out on anyone. Max came around behind her car, having also faced the same issue and his temper was much less controlled. 

She returned to the pits having been sat stationary in the car for so long, and headed straight for debrief. Starting sixth was hell for Monaco, but they always planned for every eventuality. 

Qualifying: Beth Sanderson P6 Carlos Sainz P4, Charles Leclerc P1, Lewis Hamilton P3

As she was released for the night, Charles found her, about to leave the paddock. 

"Congrats on pole," she said, smiling at him. She was happy for him, to be starting pole in his home race, but her own botched lap time was still a little sore. 

"Thanks," he said, and glanced around them. "Can we go somewhere less public?" 

"I shouldn’t," Beth admitted. "Don't need another news article about the fact I'm dating someone. Already had rumours about, Max, Carlos and Mick so far this weekend." 

"Really? So many?" 

"Grasping at straws about what to say about me these days, since I don't do anything for them to really write a story about." 

"Nothing?" Charles raised a brow, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. 

"Don’t," she said, warning in her tone. "Just don't. I'm happy you're on pole Charles but I'll see you tomorrow." 

She left him alone, slipping away from her security team too as everything was crashing down on her. They were in Monaco, racing capital, Mercedes had new upgrades for the car, and the only thing anyone could say about her was about her potential sexual partners. Only when she left the paddock did she realise how stupid it was to be here alone. The weight of her sex was shit, and she was second guessing everything, wondering if she should return to the paddock when Max came up beside her. 

"What are you doing alone?" He asked, brows raised in concern. He took one look at her face, and grabbed for her hand. Beth flinched away, feeling the hundreds of cameras around them. "Beth, come on. You're seriously going to walk alone back to your hotel right after qualifying?" 

"Maybe," she muttered. "It would make a change to write about, I guess, if something happened." 

"Get in the car," Max said, gesturing to the one waiting behind them. "Don't give me any of that crap. I'll drop you off at the hotel, its on my way home." 

Rationality made her give in, and get in the car. She just knew it would be everywhere tomorrow. That was part of the life, and hadn't got to her this much for years. But it only seemed to get worse now that she was past the stage of being a rookie, and there were more eyes on her now, being with Mercedes. 

Max, as promised, just dropped her off at the door and left, no more questions, and Beth went straight to her room. She answered fan questions on her Instagram stories, as requested by Annabelle, studiously ignoring all the relationship questions. She ate her dinner, provided by Harriet. She ignored as Lewis called her, as Charles texted her. As Max called her. 

She fell asleep early, only to wake up a few hours later. When she did, she rolled over in bed and picked up her phone. It was only midnight, and she scrolled through her texts. One from Max, again trying to make sure she was alright. One from Charles, asking if she wanted to go and eat after the race tomorrow. One from Lewis, asking if she wanted company tonight. And the most recent text, from Carlos. 

I'm sorry for earlier, can we please talk? I don't want to go into a race with things unsaid. 

Beth sighed, but clicked the call icon. 

"Cariña?" He answered, picking up on the first ring. "I didn't think you'd want to talk to me." 

"Well, I agree that racing with things unsaid is a bad idea," she replied, staring at the ceiling. "Carlos, I wasn't annoyed about what happened on Thursday. I would never be annoyed about something like that." 

There was a long silence. "Can we talk in person?" He asked quietly. "I don't like not being able to see you." 

Beth blew out a breath. "No sé, tesoro, the press are just so on me at the moment. You coming to my room at midnight or vice versa is risky." [I don't know, baby]

"Please." His voice broke on the word, and Beth couldn't tell him no. He hung up, and she knew he'd be on his way. Two minutes later, a soft knock at the door, and Beth opened it straight away, waiting for him. 

She took his hand once the door was locked, and they climbed into her bed, Carlos needing a little more persuasion than usual. 

"I could never be angry at you for being attracted to me," she murmured, cupping his face. In the half-light of one lamp, she could only see the shadows on his face. 

"But i-" 

She hushed him. "Carlos, listen to me. I don't care. I love that I drive you crazy, its what makes this fun. How when I say your name in the accent, I just about tip you over the edge." 

Carlos stayed quiet for a long time. 

"I wish you hadn't left," Beth continued. "Stayed and we talked about it then, rather than you thinking I was upset for two days." 

Beth pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek. 

"I was annoyed," she added, squeezing his hand, "that you weren't able to act properly in an interview and now there's a load of new rumours going around that we're dating, and that I’m breaking your heart." 

Carlos' mouth fell open. “I didn’t know,” he managed. “I hadn’t seen them.”

“Yeah, that’s fair enough, but whatever happens off the track, you can’t let it affect anything on the track or in the paddock. You know I get caught up in this bullshit really easy, if you did the same thing about Charles then no one says anything or cares. But because it’s me,” she said, and swallowed, “and because I’m a female driver.”

“Cariña, I am so sorry,” Carlos managed. Pulling her into his chest and wrapping her in his arms. “I’m sorry if I’ve ruined your weekend.”

“It’s not your fault,” she replied wearily. “The industry is so male that a female driver is a miracle and therefore is all the journalists want to talk about.”

“What can I do to help?” He asked, “por favor, dime que te ayudo.” [please, tell me how I can help you]

“I don’t know,” she said, close to tears. “they're  never going to stop, so I guess I just need to get used to it.”

“Cariña, they will say what they are going to say, it doesn’t matter the consequences. If they say we’re dating, does it matter if we are seen together? Us having or not having sex will not change their rumours they’ve started.”

“Are you saying we should have sex?” Beth whispered, shifting in his arms to face him. 

“I always want to fuck you,” Carlos replied, “but if you’re not sure, you need some space, I can be patient.”

“Can you though?” She giggled, and Carlos stiffened under her. She ran a hand along his torso. “I’m sorry. I won’t bring it up again.”

She shifted again, this time so she was gently straddling him, and kissed him. 

“I can’t promise,” she said between kisses. “that I won’t turn you on. I can’t promise that I won’t use the fact you find my accent attractive.”

Beth pulled his shirt over his head, and Carlos quickly did the same to her. He flipped them, lying her down on her back, as he removed the remaining clothes from her body. He kissed his way to her body, pinning her with hands. 

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against her skin. “And you drive me crazy.” He kissed down her stomach, then moved onto her inner thighs, trailing his lips over her skin. 

“Por favor, Carlos, me tocas,” she whispered. [please, Carlos, touch me]

“¿Quieres hablar mi idioma?” he asked, his eyes soft and hopeful. [you want to speak my language?]

“Sí,” she replied simply, running her fingers through his hair. “Siempre quiero hablar contigo en tu idioma. Es más …” she trailed off, shrugging. “Importante para ti, fácil, significativo, erótico,” she added, winking. [yes ... I always want to speak to you in your language. it's more ... important for you, easy, meaningful, sexy]

Carlos pulled her closer to him, kissing her fiercely. And though not many more words were spoken, it was Spanish, their shared language, as they shared their bodies and orgasms, until the exhaustion of qualifying forced them to stop, falling back into the bed with satisfied smiles, and Beth already closing her eyes. 

Carlos crept out of her room at 2 am, conscious of the race schedule, and Beth’s concerns about the paparazzi. She’d fallen asleep with him at her side, but they’d not talked about whether or not he was going to stay. So he left, a note scrawled on the pillow next to her. 

It was too late to be staying up before a race, he knew that. But somehow he hadn’t been able to stop himself, even as logic kicked in. 

He fell asleep quickly back in his room, and woke up feeling as if he’d slept for ten hours, rather than five. He was up and ready early, and considered knocking on Beth’s door, until he saw the security cameras, and heard the sound of thousands of fans outside. So he headed to the paddock, seeing Lando on his way in and chatting amicably with him, both of their adrenaline running high. It was kind of true for everyone – the morning before a race was not a social time. 

They were stopped by fans, signing endless autographs, and at some point, the noise quieted down. Then the screaming began – excited, hollering, and Carlos turned, Lando not far behind, to see what all the fuss was behind them. 

Beth was the cause of their attention. She was wearing tight leather trousers, accentuating the curves of her ass, and a lacy top that looked more like what she usually wore under her clothes, Carlos thought. And the shoes – black Louboutins, that made her taller than Carlos. She usually was reserved in how she dressed, but apparently not today. It was hot, distracting so, and Carlos had to pull his attention away and turn back to the fans thrusting paper in front of him to sign. He was silently glad for the looser trousers he had chosen that morning, but Lando was giving him a knowing look. 

Beth slid her sunglasses on. If the press wanted something to talk about, she’d give them a story.  She signed a few autographs, but the crowds were again distracted by the arrival of Charles. Beth took the opportunity to leave, heading for the garage. She arrived in the Mercedes space, to see Lewis already there, just chatting with Bono. He caught sight of her, and she could see from here how his breath caught and he lost track of the conversation he was in the middle of. She just walked away, heading to her engineers, and Annabelle raised a brow. 

“If they’re going to talk, I’m going to be in control of what they say,” Beth said, and Anna grinned. 

“Nice going,” Michael said, unable to keep the smile off his face. “Now, get changed and warm up, okay?”

Beth saluted, and headed into her drivers room. When she got there, Lewis was waiting for her. 

“You’re distracting today,” he said bluntly, crossing the apace between them as she locked the door. “and taller,” he said, looking up to meet her eyes. 

“Todays for making a statement,” she said, her only explanation. Even as Lewis pressed her for details, she wouldn’t say anything else. 

“are you alright though? With all this bullshit press? I saw something saying we were dating yesterday.”

“I’m trying not to let it bother me,” she said honestly, kicking her shoes off. “It’s not like any of its true, and they don’t have anything other than random speculation.”

“so you decide to come to the paddock in lingerie?” Lewis asked, though there was no judgement in his tone. 

“Well, I’m not ashamed of my body, and I’d rather they talk about that than involve anyone else and make my worth only as good as theirs. At least this way, I’m being judged for being me, not being someone else’s.”

Lewis acquiesced, though he turned around once she started taking her clothes off and changing into a race suit. 

“What did you tell me at Imola? Don’t want to go into a race with a raging hard on?” Lewis said, voice a little deeper than usual. 

“Babe, I turn you on no matter what I’m wearing,” Beth laughed, and Lewis couldn’t argue with her there.

She pulled on her fireproofs and tied them around her waist.  

“look, we got a race to focus on,” she said, tapping his shoulder. “I need to warm up and Harriet will be in here in a second.”

“Okay, see you later?” He said, and left the room. Harriet was in right after him, and she set to work, and Beth almost forgot all about her clothes. 

She headed out onto the starting grid, finding herself next to Lando as they tried to dodge some of the reporters. 

“Nice outfit this morning,” Lando grinned. “think someone liked it in particular. Or two red someones.”

Beth laughed. “Maybe they did, but it was just for me. No one else.”

“Wear it out tonight - yes, you have to come,” he insisted, getting the words in before Beth had the chance to protest. “It’s Monaco, we always go out.”

“Yeah I suppose we should celebrate,” Beth grinned, and Lando’s face dropped. 

“It’s your fucking birthday, isn’t it?” When Beth smiled tightly, Lando groaned. “Jesus, you always do this. I take it no one else knows either?”

Beth shrugged, playing with the helmet in her hands. “Only if they remembered, but I doubt it.”

She was watching as Lando’s eyes lit up, and it took a few seconds before she realised his excitement. “No, absolutely not. Don’t you dare.”

Lando just laughed, dragging his helmet on and heading for his own car. 

“Fucker,” she muttered to herself, and headed for her own car. 

As the lights went out, and the race began, Beth lost herself to the car. Let her instincts guide her, find any opportunities for overtaking that this track allowed, and optimising her race. And when the radio came through that she was in the podium places, she didn’t question it. 

And as she crossed the finish line, the radio came through. 

“That’s P3, Beth, P3. Well done, good one.”

“Nice job guys, great race. What’s the order?”

“Hamilton, Sainz, you, Leclerc, Perez,” Michael said. “Verstappen DNF.”

Monaco Grand Prix: Beth Sanderson P3, Carlos Sainz P2, Charles Leclerc P4, Lewis Hamilton P1

The podium and interviews passed in a blur, and Lando found her before she could escape from the track. 

“Don’t even think about running away,” he said, brow raised. “Celebrating, remember?”

“What are we celebrating?” Lewis asked, as he came up beside them. 

Lando sighed. “Someone here appeared to neglect to mention it was their birthday.” He shot Beth a look, and she winced. 

“Birthday?” Lewis repeated, looking at Beth. “Jesus, why didn’t you say? Shit, sorry, I didn’t know.”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, I don’t care. Lando has decided we’re going out, coming with?” 

“Yeah, for sure,” Lewis replied. “Text me the details.” Beth nodded, and she headed off with Lando, who insisted they get some dinner before their evening out. 

“Let’s get ready to party, Monaco-style!”

***

Chapter Text

A few hours later, after  night had fallen, they were all at Lando’s choice of nightclub. Apart from Charles and Lewis. Lewis, she knew, had some appearances to make for the team, but Beth had played the birthday card, getting out of the formal dinner with Mercedes investors. And Charles - she hadn’t expected him to show up, not really. Not after the disaster she’d discovered that had happened in the Ferrari pit lane. Double stacking the race leader? 

If her team ever fucked up like that, she sure as hell wouldn’t be going out and hanging out with the other drivers that night.  

They partied the night away, her, Lando and Max getting absolutely fucked up in the process. Carlos was watching her from another crowd of people, and he kept meeting her eyes, though gradually throughout the night, she stopped watching him back. 

Lewis showed up, and it wasn’t difficult for him to find a very drunk Beth at the bar. She was with Daniel and Mick, and Carlos was clearly heading for her. Lewis looked up to see Lando and Max behind the DJ, barely staying upright. 

“You’re here!” Beth said, pushing herself off the bar, and hugging him tightly. “Congrats on the win today, babe.”

“Thanks, and happy birthday.” He leant closer to her. “I’ve got a surprise for you later, if you’re not too drunk.” 

Beth found his eyes, raising one singular brow. “I don’t like birthday surprises,” she shouted over the music. “Too many bad memories.”

“Maybe we can make a good one?” Lewis suggested slyly in her ear, and Beth’s lips twitched up into a smile. 

“We can’t be seen leaving together so soon after you arrived,” Beth returned, a glimmer in her eyes. So, they mingled around with the rest of the drivers, and Beth continued to drink as shots of colourful liquid were handed to her. 

She joined Max and Lando behind the DJ some time later, and they danced together, the three of them very drunk and uncoordinated, and eventually Daniel joined them, taking one look at Max, and calling them a taxi. He coaxed Max away from the party, and though he didn’t want to leave, Daniel easily handled him. Beth watched, almost jealous, as Daniel kept his arm around Max, moving across the floor and out towards the door. Jealous, not for Daniel’s touch, but for the way neither of them gave it a second thought. Didn’t think there would be articles and speculations the next day about if they had gone home to have sex. 

“You look sad,” Lando shouted in her ear, snapping her focus back to the present. “Come on, it’s your birthday! You got a podium in Monaco.”

“Oh Lando, if only life was that simple,” she said, shrugging. “If racing didn’t come with the judgement of the world, then life would be easy.”

“Why do you care?” What filter Lando usually had for his words was gone, and he’s never been particularly tactful to begin with. “Beth, they’re going to say whatever they want to say, twist things however they can to make a bit of money.” He snuck a hand around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

“Lando,” she said gently, but she didn’t move. 

“Beth, let loose. Don’t care about the press.” Lando gave her a lopsided grin. “Would they write a story about this?”

“Let’s be real, they’d write a story about the fact we’re the only two drivers up here.”

Beth could feel Lando’s closeness, could feel his rapid heartbeat through where their chests pressed together. His arm was still around her, and Beth’s heart stuttered a little. Something about the combination of being in such a public place, so close to him, but with no way to know if anyone could actually see them. 

“So why care?”

“Why indeed?” Beth mused. “Fuck it,” she muttered, leaning in to close the distance between them. 

It was a quick, messy kiss, and as they broke apart, she could see Lando’s lips twitching a little. As if he was trying not to laugh. His silent laughter set her off, and Lando’s arm fell away from her, they were both cracking up. 

Each time one of them stopped giggling, they looked to the other, and it was just that to set them off again. 

Eventually, Lewis found the two of them, just about calming down, though he could see something weird was going on, and they were both very, very drunk. Beth’s eyes were a little glazed over. 

“Lewis, babe,” Beth said, stumbling over towards him, tripping on her own feet, and he caught her before she could hit the floor. 

“You need to go to bed,” he said, raising a brow. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

She forced herself to stand up straight and walk alone, crossing paths with Carlos, who went to find Lando. She and Lewis made it outside and into a taxi; Beth was trying to keep her eyes open, but she was just so damn tired all of a sudden. 

“Wake up, Beth,” Lewis said, shaking her shoulder. “We’re home.”

He helped her out the car, guiding an arm around her, to help her inside. 

“This isn’t my hotel,” she murmured faintly, looking around her. 

“It’s my apartment,” Lewis replied, and they went inside, and made it up the stairs without Beth falling over. She curled up on his sofa, and Lewis knelt in front of her, unlacing her boots. “Come on, darling, real bed please.” But she protested, wrapping her arms tightly around herself, shaking her head. So Lewis hooked his arms around her, and picked her up, carrying her to his bedroom. Despite herself, she nestled her head into his chest. 

He laid Beth in his bed, and she started fumbling with the buttons on her leather pants. Lewis caught her hands. He turned, grabbing a t shirt for her, and helped her change. His shirt wasn’t as long on her as he wished it was - he could see the red lace of her underwear peaking out from under the hem. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, as he ditched his jeans and shirt, climbing under the covers next to her. 

“Why are you sorry?” he asked, reaching out to brush her hair out of her face. 

“You said you had a surprise, and I ruined it.” 

Lewis smiled. “I also said you couldn’t be drunk, and you were already drunk when I told you about it.” He kissed her forehead, and she shifted in his arms, pressing their bodies together. “We’ll do it later, alright, babe? Just sleep now, okay?”

*

Beth woke up to the smell of coffee in an unfamiliar apartment. She had hazy memories of the night before, but she padded into the kitchen, to find Lewis, pouring coffee. 

“Morning, babe,” Lewis said, turning and pressing a mug into her hands. “How’s the head?”

Beth smiled, shrugging. “Honestly fine. Though the memory is a little … incomplete.” 

Lewis sighed. “Oh, imagine being young and without a hangover.”

She set her mug down, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close. “Thank you, for - you know.” She looked away, a blush rising up her neck. “Looking after me, making sure I was okay.”

He kissed her softly, his hands firmly on her waist. When they broke apart, he just rested their foreheads together. “Anytime, darling.”

When Beth started running her fingers down his chest, tracing the muscles in his abdomen, Lewis smiled. When her fingers gently traced his waistband, her touch caressing his cock through the fabric, he tensed, bringing their lips together again. She snaked her fingers under the band of his underwear, wrapping her hand around the hard length of him. 

“Beth,” he moaned against her lips. She moves her hand up and down, relishing in the sounds Lewis is making, before he grabs her wrist. 

He’s breathing heavily as he leads her back to the bedroom, shedding the tshirt she’s wearing on the way, leaving her in the damn red lace bodysuit. He finds himself unable to do anything but stare at her, taking in all her curves and beauty. She climbs onto the bed, beckoning him to follow her. And, who would possibly say no to Beth?

Certainly not Lewis. 

He followed willingly, just drinking in the sight of her, clad in red lace that accentuated every single inch of her perfect body. 

“Quit staring and get over here,” Beth said softly, her voice undeniably an instruction. Lewis, feeling compelled to follow, crossed the bed and straddled her legs, joining their lips in a desperate kiss. 

Her fingers found their way to his waistband again, slipping underneath, and Lewis moaned softly. 

“Too many clothes, baby,” she murmured, and Lewis eagerly shed the layers, his cock standing at attention. She turned around, and Lewis untied the corset strings of the red lace, pushing it down and slinging it into some unknown corner of the room. 

He caught her lips again, hands roaming over her skin, and down, until his hands were on her thighs, pushing her legs apart. He slid into her, gasping at the pressure, and Beth wrapped her legs around his hips, allowing him deeper. 

Lewis bit his lip, trying to hold himself back. Whilst yes, this was far from the first time they’d fucked, and now it wasn’t even the first time in a real bed, unlike Spain, he’d been hit with a wave of embarrassment at the noises he made. 

“Oh, Lewis, don’t stop yourself on my account,” Beth murmured as his pace faltered, bringing her thumb up to his mouth to unhook his lip from his teeth. She shifted suddenly, turning them so Lewis was lying down, Beth still embedded on his cock as she watched him in confusion, trying to figure out what had suddenly just changed. 

He can’t find the words to explain. 

“Baby, let me hear you,” Beth instructed. “I want to hear you.”

Lewis’ eyes widen. Beth smiles, shifting around and surprising Lewis at the new friction. He moans loudly, unable to help himself - she took him by surprise, and he wasn’t ready to stop himself. She leans down to kiss him. 

“Beautiful, baby. Absolutely beautiful,” she says into his lips. The she starts riding him in earnest, enjoying every single noise that Lewis makes, them going straight to her core and pushing her further and further to that edge. 

Lewis made the best noises, and as she loves the little whimpers, and the way his moans get deeper the closer he gets to orgasm. That’s how she knows that he’s close, not by anything he says, and they reach their precipice together, falling over the edge, together. 

Beth gets up first, grabbing a cloth to clean them both up, Lewis with eyes half-closed and a vaguely fucked-out look on his face. She ditched the cloth back in the bathroom, and climbed into bed next to him, her head resting on his chest. Lewis automatically pulled his arm around her, and her closer into him. 

They stayed silent for a while, enjoying the closeness and the warmth. 

This is so easy, Beth thought, it feels like I could do this all the time. 

She banished the thought for now. It wasn’t the time to be thinking about the future - she needed to be thinking about racing, and getting her first victory. Not a potential relationship that might ruin her career. Career first, always. 

*

“What are you going to do after Formula One?” Beth asked, shifting in bed onto her stomach, and lacing her fingers with Lewis’. This part - the after - didn’t happen very often. Usually, they fucked and then had to disappear off for their responsibilities as drivers, or were avoiding a press nightmare by being seen in leaving the same hotel room in the morning. 

She got to stare at the patchwork of tattoos he had, tracing the outline with her fingers. 

“I’m not sure, I’ll always have Team 44 and my brands,” he stared with unseeing eyes out the penthouse window. “I haven’t thought about what to do after I stop racing.”

He reached towards her, brushing hair out of her eyes. “I’ve got a few years left - I will reclaim the championship that was taken from me.”

Beth smiled. “I know you will, Lewis.” She didn’t need to say anything else, she just traced the tattoos on his chest again, as he lost himself in his thoughts. 

A few hours later, when phones started ringing, she had to haul herself out of bed. Beth kicked herself into action, wishing she had other clothes here to wear, rather than risk being seen in the same outfit from the day before. Lewis answered his phone, walking into the other room, but not before grabbing her a towel from the cupboard and throwing it at her with a grin. 

She showered, and when she reentered the bedroom, smelling like Lewis’ very expensive-looking shower gel, he’d left her a selection of his clothes, that weren’t obviously his clothes. Something she could get away with calling her own, if she ran into any cameras. A t-shirt, sweatpants, jeans, a hoodie, a button-up shirt. She smiled softly, running her fingers over the fabrics. She chose the sweatpants, the t-shirt, tying it in the front, and stared at her feet, cursing the fact that she’d worn those heels the night before. 

Beth padded through to the kitchen, seeing Lewis sat at the table, staring out into a sea of paperwork. She wrapped her arms around him from behind, kissing the top of his head. 

“I’m going to go, babe, alright? I need to pack, and my flight’s in a few hours.” Lewis twisted in her arms, nodding, and a grin spread across his face at her outfit. 

“I’ll return them at the next race.” Lewis shook his head. 

“Nah, don’t bother. I like it better on you.” He tugged her down for a kiss, running his fingers through her hair. “I’ll see you around at the factory at some point. Your birthday gift is going to be a little delayed, I’m taking you on a little trip in the summer break.”

Beth narrowed her eyes. “Way to up the tension, Lewis. I’m not good at being patient.”

Lewis smirked, and just gave her an innocent shrug. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and find out.”

***

Chapter Text

Beth’s performance at qualifying was atrocious, at best. She was knocked out in Q1, placed 18th. She was angry with herself, since she knew she had not placed that low since her first season with Williams but her mind was anywhere but the race. Which was a dangerous thing to happen when driving a multi-million-pound car at incredibly high speeds. Especially around a track that had no room for error. 

Beth ignored the engineers as the car was pulled into the garage, handing off her helmet to the first person she saw, and walking away, to her driver’s room. She closed the door, locked it, and sat in the corner, sweat plastering her hair to her forehead, but unable to force herself into the shower. 

She tucked her knees up to her chest, still in the fireproof racesuit, and let her mind run, through everything she’d been thinking about in the car, when she should have been getting into Q2. 

***

Qualifying: Beth Sanderson P18, Carlos Sainz P2, Charles LeClerc P4, Lewis Hamilton, P3

“Where is she?” Lewis asked over radio the second he returned from Q3, having placed third. “What went wrong?”

No one had any answers, so he headed to Beth’s driver’s room as soon as he was out the car, to see Carlos and Charles at the other end of the corridor, concerned expressions on, despite their good results. When they reached her door, Carlos knocked gently. 

“Cariña, are you here?” 

She didn’t respond, but they could all hear the sound of movement through the paper-thin walls. 

“Please, Beth, are you alright? Crew said you left without speaking, or going to briefing.”

When Beth didn’t answer again, they spoke quietly to each other, deciding what the best course of action was. Carlos’ impatience won out, and he tried the handle - locked. 

“Open the door, cariña, else I will break it. And then Mercedes are going to want to know why.” 

“Jesus, okay!” Beth shouted, wrenching the door open. She was half-way out her racesuit, shirt off underneath leaving her only in a bra, with the suit arms tied around her waist. Her eyes were red, and there was a bandage around her bicep. 

The three men stared at her, and she raised a brow. “What?”

“What happened?” Lewis said, forcing himself to meet her eyes. “You never skip briefing.”

“You’ve not been yourself all week,” Charles added. “Is something wrong?” 

Carlos was looking intensely into her eyes, and Beth looked away, unable to find enough air for her lungs. She turned around, holding up a finger to the guys behind her, before throwing up in the bin. 

“Oh cariña.”

“Fuck, are you alright?”

“Chérie!”

When she stopped, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, before sitting on the floor, back against the wall. 

“I hate this place,” she murmured, so quietly, they barely heard her. “Everything this reminds me of - being on that track, in the pits, the paddock - it all.”

“Why, darling?” Lewis asked, sitting down next to her. Charles sat on her other side, and Carlos knelt in front of her. He tried to take her hand, but she flinched back, trying to scramble to her feet. Carlos rocked back, noting the fear in her eyes. She was the stable one, the most affectionate, hugged all the drivers after the races, and something had her freaked out with such a small touch. It sent a chill through Carlos - that fear wasn’t directed at him, he knew, but it was definitely fear. 

Beth swallowed heavily, but couldn’t stop the tears as they came silently, dripping down her face. 

“Do you remember last year, here, all those rumours about me?” 

“About you and Mason, that engineer at Haas?” 

“I never dated him, but,” she said, voice suddenly steady. If not for the tears, they could be discussing race tactics, “he raped me in my driver’s room at Williams.”

Three outraged noises emerged from the men around her. Lewis stood up, pacing around the room. 

“My manager advised me against pursuing it in court, because it would have affected my season, and then maybe the offer from Mercedes would have been rescinded,” she continued. “I hate everything this place reminds me of. I can’t focus on the race when those memories keep coming back to me.”

“Chérie,” Charles murmured, still sat next to her. “May I hug you?” 

Beth smiled softly, and nodded, folding herself into Charles’ arms. He squeezed her tightly, and she couldn’t stop crying into his chest. 

She pulled away as she heard the door open. 

“Carlos,” Beth said, standing up. “Where are you going?”

He was so mad he couldn’t see straight, couldn’t translate the words he wanted to say. 

“Voy a matar este hijo de puta,” he said, and Beth put a gentle hand on his chest. [I'm going to kill that son of a bitch]

“Ay, no, Carlos,” she replied. “Por favor, te necesito aquí, no allí.” [no, Carlos ... please, I need you here, not there]

“Pero, mi cariña, ese cabrón-” [but, my darling, that bastard-]

“Carlos, si quiero castigarse, luego, será.” [Carlos, if I want to punish him, then I will]

Her eyes had hardened, and Carlos knew he had to keep his temper in check. Lewis and Charles glanced at each other, neither understanding what they were saying. Whilst Charles knew some Spanish, he couldn’t keep up that quickly and when Carlos’ pronounciation was slurred by anger. 

“You speak Spanish,” Lewis said, brow raised. “That’s news.” 

“Yeah, I learnt. I didn’t say any of that to illicit some sort of reaction or desire for revenge from any of you. Heard?” 

They all nodded. “Also, I don’t want to talk about the race tomorrow. But, I would like to not be alone, if anyone would like to come back to my room - nothing sexual, just company.”

The three of them nodded again. 

“Okay, can we go then?” 

They left the track in convoy - the Mercedes drivers and the Ferrari drivers, both headed for the same hotel. In the car, Beth leant her head on Lewis’ shoulder, and he squeezed her hand. When they arrived at the hotel, she tried to put the distance between them, but Lewis wouldn’t let her, walking so close their shoulder were almost touching. They had just made it to her room, when Carlos and Charles caught up with them. 

As they got inside, Beth’s phone started ringing. First it was her manager. Then, trainer. Then various engineers started up. She launched the phone across the room. 

“Good one,” Carlos grinned. 

“I don’t want to hear from anyone about how shit my performance was today or be given grief for not doing my press. Honestly, I could have crashed out so many times because I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Are you going to be able to race tomorrow?” Charles asked, concern furrowing his brow. “If it’s too risky-” But he couldn’t finish that sentence, didn’t have any reassurance he could give. Every race was important, unmissable. 

“It will be fine,” she assured him. “Can we not talk about the race? Please,” she added, as she saw the look exchanged between the men.

Lewis sighed. “Okay, babe. I believe you owe me a rematch at cards, right?” 

She grinned, grabbing the deck of cards from her bag. She and Lewis started explaining the rules to the other two, and they sat on the floor around the coffee table, Lewis shuffling the deck. 

They played a few rounds, then switched game, where Carlos and Beth were on one team, and Charles and Lewis the other. Carlos and Beth were discussing tactics in Spanish, and at one point, Carlos glanced at Charles, who seemed to be understanding at least some of what they were saying. 

“Ay, más rápido, Bethanie, a Charles nos entiende.” He deliberately said that slow enough for Charles to keep up with, and the other Ferrari driver glared at him. [quicker, Beth, Charles understands]

“Can I just ask,” Lewis said, putting his cards down. “Where did you learn to speak Spanish like a native?” 

“I would also like to know this,” Charles said. 

“Me as well, your accent is perfect.” 

Beth exhaled, smiling faintly. “One of my mother’s ex-partners, actually.” Beth put her cards down, and started fidgeting with her fingers. “He said it would be shameful to never learn something like a different language when my sport is so multi-lingual. So, he took me to Argentina, and told me not to come back until I’d learnt the language and earnt enough money to fly home. It took about four, five months or so. My mother went mental, broke up with him, but he had told her that I was at some exclusive no-contact mental health retreat to decide if I actually wanted to be an F1 driver.” 

“Fucking hell,” Lewis said, eyes wide. “When was this?” 

Charles’ mind was whirring as he tried to figure it out, how long ago, but Beth answered before he could. “I was 15. It was the year before I got my F3 contract.”

She put a hand on Carlos’ shoulder, as his eyes flashed rage. “If you get angry about every shitty thing in my life that got me here, we’re going to be here a long time, and you’ll probably have an aneurysm. I’m all good, no one died, and that fucker is in prison for life for some other crime.” 

“But, cariña, I-”

“No, Carlos,” she replied, her voice rolling through Carlos’ name in her Spanish accent. “I know what you’re like, I don’t need a fiery latino fighting my battles for me. I can do it myself.” 

Beth glanced at the clock. “Fuck, it’s late. You guys should be sleeping, for the race tomorrow!” 

“Don’t you mean, we all should be sleeping?” Charles asked pointedly. “You’re racing tomorrow as well.” 

Beth shrugged. “Semantics.”

Lewis raised his brows. “You only say that when you’re lying, for the record. Beth, you have to sleep.” 

“And I’m sure I will,” she said, “but I can’t turn my brain off and just stop thinking about it.”

She looked around at the three of them. “You should all go, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Lewis conceded, pulling her into a hug. “Be strong,” he whispered, “he can’t touch you anymore.”

She squeezed his hand as she pulled away, and Lewis left to go back to his room. 

“I don’t want to leave you,” Charles said, “You don’t have to be alone tonight.” 

“And it’s not fair for you not to get enough sleep before race day. It’s too dangerous, and the guys at Ferrari would kill me.” 

“I don’t care,” Carlos replied. “I care about you.” 

“Tesoro,” she whispered. “You need to go, I will be fine.” 

“I do not believe you,” he replied, taking her face in his hands. “Please, Beth, tell me how I can help.” 

Her eyes misted over, but she held firm. “If you hurt yourself on the track tomorrow, I could never forgive myself.” She kissed him softly, then pulled out of his grip, knowing she had convinced them finally. She went over to Charles, and folded herself into his arms. 

“You know why you have to go, right?” she asked into his chest. 

“Agree to disagree, but yes, if it is what you want, I will leave.” 

She pulled back. “Thank you,” she said, kissing him. “I will see you both tomorrow, okay?”

***

“These brakes are shit!” Beth shouted down her radio, during the race. “T1 through 5 suck right now!”

“Okay, we’re on it,” her engineer Michael replied. “Heartrate is high, are you okay?”

She laughed wryly, yanking the car gracelessly around a corner, spotting Lando Norris in front of her. “I am going 200 with shit brakes, it’s fucking stressful.”

Beth managed to overtake Lando, bringing her into the top 10, by lap 36. It was a difficult track, but at least she was in the points now. 

She gained on Ocon, passing him and Ricciardo shortly after, until she was in 8th. Better than an 18th where she started, but Ricciardo was still right behind her, ready to take it back. 

“Nothing in the data wrong with the brakes,” Michael told her, and she almost growled. 

“I am driving and the brakes are wrong!”

“This is why we do briefing after qualifying,” he snapped at her. 

“Fuck you then, I’ll get a podium with these shitty brakes, and then we can brief about that later.”

She turned the next corner, to find Bottas ahead.

“Box box,” a different engineer said into her ears, shocking her. “Pit stop.” 

As she came out of the pits, she was back in 9th, still just about in front of Ocon. 

“Bottas, then Ricciardo in front,” the new engineer said, and Beth couldn’t focus on placing their voice. She was taking in too much information, just blindly trusting the voice in her ear, as she tried to keep up her pace without ending up in the wall. 

She followed their advice, taking so many risks she could only hope she wouldn’t exceed track limits and end up with a penalty. 

Beth climbed her way up the grid, overtaking Carlos on lap 49, making her way into third place. Only two left in front, but she thought there should have been three left. Charles, Max and Lewis. One of them had fallen behind, or had to retire. But she didn’t know which. 

She saw Max next, a few seconds ahead of her, and the likelihood that she would catch up was minimal. But with Carlos on her tail, there was still a game to play in the last two laps. 

“Congratulations on P3, babe,” the engineer said as she crossed the line of the 51st lap. She’d pushed so hard, Carlos only a few milliseconds behind her, and now, she was coming up on the first turn.

“Fuck, brakes!!” she shouted, before going straight into the barrier. 

***

Carlos pulled his car to a stop a few metres behind where Beth’s was embedded in the wall. 

He climbed out, watching closely for her movements, before seeing her pull herself up with the halo. 

He went over, and helped her out, but she batted his hands away. 

“I’m fine,” she managed, pulling her helmet off, and the balaclava underneath it. “Just in shock, a little.” 

She staggered a little, not able to move in a straight line. The other drivers slowed down around them, and Carlos waved them forward. Everyone was concerned, but Beth didn’t need more people crowding around her. 

“Carlos, I’m gonna be sick,” she choked out, before turning away and throwing up all over the track. Carlos grabbed her sides to stop her falling over. 

When she straightened up, Carlos still was holding her, and they made it back to his car. 

“Let’s get back and get you checked out,” Carlos said, dragging her over to his car, and climbing in, with Beth side-saddling the halo. “Can you stay there, or should we wait for a medic?” he asked as an afterthought, and she just motioned for him to go. 

They finished the lap slowly, the space for P3 left empty, as Max and Charles came over, helping her to stand. 

“What happened?” Max asked, hoisting her arm around his shoulder. 

“Shit brakes, data not reading right or something, I don’t know,” she replied, as he pulled her towards the standby ambulance. 

She spotted Lewis come running out of the Mercedes garage, headset still on, as she suddenly placed the voice that had coached her through the latter half of the race. 

“I’m fine,” she insisted, as someone tried to pull an oxygen mask over her face. 

“You are not fine,” Charles said firmly. “You hit a barrier at 130.” 

“170,” Lewis corrected, glaring at her until she left the mask on her face. 

“I am fine,” she said, muffled by the mask. “Yo, Charles,” she said, grinning. “Congratulations.” 

Charles couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face. 

“Go celebrate, I’ll be there soon,” she said, and the paramedic nodded. 

“By some sort of sheer luck, she probably will be. But I need a minute alone with her.” 

The guys all left, with promises to come and find her if she didn’t show up for the podium. Beth finished with the medic, having somehow passed concussion tests, then wandered slowly towards the Mercedes garage. Lewis’ car looked as if it had been sat there for a while, whilst her spot was empty. The car was likely somewhere out on the track still, wherever she had crashed it. 

She was directed by her manager to where Charles and Max would be waiting before the podium celebrations, and when she walked in, Charles instantly wrapped his arms around her. 

“You scared me, mon chérie,” he murmured, lips concealed by her hair. 

“I’m honestly fine, just a little shaken up. Do you know what happened to Lewis out there?” 

“Mechanical failure in lap 4,” Max replied, “made it to the pits but couldn’t get going again.” 

“Shit,” Beth said, sitting on the floor, instead of the chair provided. “What a fucking weekend.” 

“Can we just talk about P18 to P3?” Max said, grinning. “No one expected you to be able to do that, especially this circuit.”

“Well, given the proper motivations of proving other people wrong, anything is possible,” Beth grinned, starting to unpin her hair. 

“Alright, podium time,” the FIA representative said, as they came into the room. “Let’s go.”

Baku Grand Prix: Beth Sanderson P3, Carlos Sainz P4, Charles LeClerc P1, Lewis Hamilton DNF

After the podium, and the interviews, Beth was getting a little light-headed. As she, Max and Charles left the stage, they headed back to their driver’s rooms to collect their things, and Beth’s vision went spotty. She grabbed the closest thing to her - Max’s arm - to try and stop her from falling, but everything went dark. 

**

She woke up on the floor, a few minutes later, head in Charles’ lap. There was a medic at her side, measuring her blood pressure, and Max was at her other, watching her for any signs of movement. 

“Fucking hell, welcome back,” Max said, and Beth looked up to find Charles’ concerned eyes searching hers. 

“What happened?” she asked, “why am I on the floor?”

“Dehydration, exhaustion, potential late-onset concussion from the crash,” Charles listed off, and she reached over and squeezed his hand, whilst trying to make herself sit up. 

“Stop moving,” Max said, a hand on her shoulder holding her down. “You’re lucky you’re not in an ambulance right now on the way to the hospital. 

“I have to agree,” the medic said, unhooking her arm from the blood pressure monitor. “I think likely you had adrenaline getting you through and then after the podium, when you can finally start to relax, you had nothing left, so passed out.” 

“Well, I’m all fine now. I need water and sleep,” Beth said, sitting up slowly. “I’ll drive back to the hotel, and -”

“Uh, no!”

“Absolutely not.” 

Both Max and Charles protested instantly. “You are not driving when you could pass out,” Max continued. “Someone can drive you, we find Lewis or someone else who’s at the same hotel. Okay?” 

“Okay, fine,” she conceded. “That’s probably sensible.”

The medic interjected: “You should not be alone really. If you pass out again, you should have someone there with you.” 

“I don’t need a babysitter,” she said sharply. 

“Someone with you, or hospital,” the medic replied, with no room for argument. 

“Fine!” she stood up, with Max’s help, and walked away, back to her driver’s room to collect her things. Max took her bag off her, and linked an arm through hers, but she wasn’t under any delusions as to why. 

“I’ll come with you,” he said, even as she started to protest. “No, I’m not taking the chance that you end up having a little too much fun with one of the others, and then passing out again.”

Beth glared at him, but allowed herself to be led to Max’s car, and driven back to her hotel. 

“You know you drove so well, right?” Max said, as Beth queued up the race on her laptop to watch from the outside. 

“With room to improve, obviously,” Beth said. “P3 is fine, but not perfect. Also, that crash at the end, could have been a DNF if it was one lap earlier. I don’t like that chance.”

Max sighed. “Okay, sure, we can watch the race.”

Beth pulled a blanket over herself as she sat in bed, laptop at the end, with the race just starting. Max got into the bed next to her, and noted as she watched the introductions, all the different shots of all the garages. He knew she was a little sneaky, and he suspected that Charles and Carlos might give away more information to her than they meant to, but Max no didn’t doubt that she gleaned some of her information from these broadcasts. 

“Are you staying overnight?” Beth asked him, as all the cars drove out into the formation lap. 

“Yeah, if you don’t mind. I’d rather you weren’t alone, after a crash like that.”

“Okay,” she agreed, then they lapsed back into silence. They got half-way through the race, and as Beth listened to the commentators speak about the fact Lewis was speaking to her through the radio, when Max paused the race. 

“You should sleep; everyone on your team is analysing this race, you don’t need to do this right now.”

“I drove into the fucking wall, Max, that’s nothing that my team can tell me,” she replied, looking up at him. 

“You had faulty brakes,” he fired back, and Beth clenched her jaw. 

“I should have made it around that corner.”

“God, you’re stubborn,” Max sighed. “Okay, you want my opinion? You should have made it around that corner at the end but you didn’t hold your line properly against Sainz, so couldn’t. You should have caught up to me in those last two laps - you had better tyres on than I did. At the least, you should have had a better gap between you and Sainz. That bit we just watched, you should have been able to get a better line to pass Ocon, and you enabled DRS way too late on the previous lap, costing you time before you could catch up to Bottas.”

Beth nodded, “I appreciate it, I’d rather honesty, because otherwise you don’t learn.”

“Heard loud and clear,” Max replied. “Can we please sleep now?”

She finally conceded, and got up, taking a quick shower before dressing for bed. She fished around in her case, throwing a pair of men’s shorts at Max. 

“Who do these belong to?” he asked suspiciously. 

“They’re mine, I’ve washed them since I last wore them, but sleep in jeans if you really want to.”

He laughed, shaking his head as he walked into the bathroom. 

Beth was curled up asleep by the time he was out, and he climbed into bed next to her, gently moving her laptop away as to not wake her. He settled down next to her, and as exhaustion crept in, fell asleep shortly after. 

***

Chapter Text

“We’ve booked it all out, there’s no cameras once we get inside,” Lewis persuaded her, and Beth sighed.

“Who else is going to be here?”

“Some of the drivers, but no engineers or anything. It’s just going to be a bit of fun,” Lewis promised her. “Even if you fall on your arse loads, no one will care.”

“You think I’m going to fall?” she grinned. “I’d be more concerned about Charles, honestly.”

“Fighting talk, this is fun,” Lewis smirked. “Come on, let’s go.” 

They entered the ice rink without too much fuss, and Charles, Carlos, Lando, Max, Pierre and Daniel were already there. 

“I’m glad you came,” Beth said, nudging Max as she walked past. “Didn’t think you would.”

“You asked me to,” Max replied, grabbing a set of skates from the rack. “That’s what friends do, right? Do they know you can skate?”

“I haven’t told them; we’re going to have a little fun with it.”

Max grinned, and she grabbed a set of skates. 

As the drivers were starting to get onto the ice, Beth hung back a little, tying her shoes as slow as possible. 

“Come on, get on here!” Carlos called, at her. “Don’t worry if you fall, Charles fell over already.”

Beth sighed, taking off the guards and stepping out onto the ice. She took a little lap around the rink, and pulled up, stopping in front of Lewis. 

“Of course, you’re good at this as well.” Beth winked. “Did you ever train at this properly?”

“Yeah, for a few years when I was little before I started karting and whilst one of my mother’s boyfriend’s was funding it. But I kept up with it during the winter breaks more recently, taught myself everything again.”

“Show us something then,” Carlos said, and he pulled Charles up from the ice again. 

“I’m a few months out of practice,” she said, but took off flying, building up speed and trying to avoid the other drivers who were crashing about everywhere. 

She turned, setting up for a jump, and launched herself, into a double loop, landing it with barely a wobble. 

Max whistled, impressed, and she turned to them, sketching a little bow. She skated over to Charles, as he fell over again and this time, dragged Carlos down with him.  

“Surprising that you’re not so good at this,” Beth said, grabbing his arm, to stop him falling again. “It’s mostly about core strength.”

“And balance,” Charles said, his face red. “Which I appear to not have.”

“Well, I can teach you. My balance wasn’t ever something I could keep up, and so whenever I go back for winter breaks, I have to basically learn it all again. I still can’t land a triple jump, and I’m basically too old for figure skating now anyway, so I don’t think I’ll ever get it.”

She held Charles’ arm as she showed him how to move on the ice, and when he started wobbling, she placed a hand on his stomach. “Keep tension here,” she said, “just like the race. Balance is much easier with a rigid core.”

Max skated over to them, and then pointed into the stands. “Look who’s here.” 

She glanced to where Max was pointing, and a smile broke out on her face. 

“How did you know?” she asked Max, handing Charles to him, to stop the unbalanced Monegasque from falling over. “Jackson!” 

Beth skated over to where an unfamiliar man was joining them on the ice, and Lewis, across the ice, raised a brow at Max. They barely spoke, but he’d told the Dutchman that Beth would want him here, even if Lewis didn’t particularly. But the way her face had lit up, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. 

“It’s been forever,” he said, picking her up and spinning on the ice, as Beth squealed. 

“You gotta come to the race, now you’re here,” Beth said, as he set her down gently on the ice. 

“Ready to skate?” Jackson said, and Beth followed his lead, matching his pace as he did a skill, and she copied it, shakier and less graceful, but she completed them nonetheless. Carlos whistled at her spin, and Beth grinned. 

Then Jackson upped it a notch, turning to jumps. His favourite jumps were axels, the ones that Beth couldn’t really do. Jackson did a double axel, and Beth tried to follow, but misjudged herself, and tumbled to the floor. 

“Shit,” she said neutrally, standing up, but she’d grasped the attention of everyone. 

“Come on, you’re not going fast enough,” Jackson said, as he skated ahead of her. “Aren’t all you drivers about like speed is the limit and moving as fast as possible?” he goaded her. 

“Story of my fucking life,” Beth muttered, and started, giving herself more space to gain momentum. Jackson grinned, tracking her movements as she set up for the jump, but she bailed at the final second, popping the jump. 

“Ay, díos mío,” she muttered, and started again, ignoring how she had the attention of all the drivers around her. 

Beth tied her hair up a bit tighter as she skated out into the rink. “Don’t be alarmed,” she said to the men around her, and started to pick up speed. She set up for the jump, something she’d never landed before, lifting off the ice, rotating and-

Slammed into the floor. 

“Fucking hell,” she muttered, and Jackson looked on, on brow raised. 

“Jesus, stop,” Lewis said, skating over to her. “Why are you doing this?”

“It’s alright,” she said, hauling herself up. “I want to learn, to be able to do this.”

“Yeah, but you don’t need to,” Lewis said, shaking his head. 

“You’re a driver, not a skater,” Charles added, skating shakily over to them. “If you keep doing this, driving is going to be hell.”

“It’s alright, I know my limits,” she insisted. “I’m trying to learn something new.”

“Actually, I don’t think you do,” Max said, joining the conversation. “You routinely push too far to the point of stupidity.”

Jackson skated over smoothly. “All good, Beth?” She nodded, shooting a look at Lewis who was about to object. 

“Yeah, fine, let’s go again.” She skated off, not waiting for Jackson, but knowing he’d catch up to her anyway. He did, as she knew, and did the jump before her, showing her again the technique, with a confident smile on his face. She set up, turning herself, and caught someone in the corner of her eye, directly in her line, and pulled up short, ending up on her ass. 

“What the fuck, Max?”

“You have to stop. What if you break your arm or cut your leg open, and can’t race? Is it worth it?” 

She stood up. “I don’t take kindly to be told what to do,” she said, “especially when you’re the one who invited Jackson here.”

Jackson skated over to join the discussion. 

“You didn’t tell me you were having such a hard time with jumps,” he said, his eyes soft. “Why not? I know you’re racing this weekend. Why let me push you so hard?”

“Maybe because she cannot admit when she cannot do something,” Carlos said, slowly making his way towards them with Charles next to him. 

“I can do it, it’s just been a while,” Beth protested. “Jackson, I’m not that bad, right?”

Jackson raised a brow. “You’re arrogant thinking you can maintain in a sport you spend about four weeks practising a year. The reason I can do this is I spend almost every day training, the same way you do. Just because I went go-karting with you a few times each winter break doesn’t entitle me to drive a F1 car.”

As he finished speaking, he skated around the outside of the rink, everyone watching him. As he built up speed, and set up for his jump, Beth sighed. Jackson landed his quadruple axel, and she ignored the whistled of approval and awe from the other drivers around her. But, she silently conceded, knowing that Jackson was right. She wasn’t a figure skater, she’d barely wanted to do it, even when she was really little and it was the best part of her life. Then, Beth had discovered go-karting on a school trip at age 7, where she’d met the first two friends she’d ever had - Maria Longford and Lando Norris. After that, skating was out the window, and karting was her new love. 

She had to remember that. 

Beth skated over to Jackson, who was almost off the ice. 

“Where are you going?” she asked, all too aware of their audience, who were trying their best to seem like they weren’t watching. 

“You’re free to make your own mistakes, Beth, but I won’t have you insulting me and my sport.” He wouldn’t look at her, just slid his blade guards onto his skates as he stepped off the ice. 

“I wasn’t thinking, Jackson, I’m sorry.” She sighed. “I know how hard you work for your achievements, and I wasn’t trying to say it is easy.” 

“Good,” he said, raising a brow at the guys on the ice behind them. “They’re a little protective, aren’t they?”

Beth laughed. “Yeah. I’m the baby of the group, always pushing just that little bit too far, and making an idiot out of myself.”

She reached a hand out to him, “Come on, let’s just have some fun. No more jumps for me, or trying to do things I can’t.” She glanced over her shoulder, as Jackson took her hand, lacing their fingers. “We could just laugh at the fact none of them have any balance?” she suggested, and Jackson laughed, nodding. 

“Yeah, I’ve seen four-year-olds skate better, but sure, Beth. Let’s just have some fun.”

***

Qualifying: Beth Sanderson P1, Carlos Sainz P8, Charles LeClerc P3, Lewis Hamilton P5

The stubbornness of proving them wrong about the fact she had pushed too far during the ice-skating put Beth in pole position for the race start. Everything hurt as she laid in bed that night in the hotel, but it was worth it. Carlos came out the bathroom, and sat next to her. 

“You’re in pain, no?” he asked.

“Maybe,” she replied, not opening her eyes. 

“Come on, hot shower to relax those muscles,” he said, pulling at her arm. She groaned, and rolled off the bed, and Carlos led her to the bathroom. 

“Tesoro, I hurt way too much for sex,” she warned him, and Carlos nodded. 

“Yes, I know, I’m just here to help.”

She nodded, and he started unbuttoning her shirt, as she undid her jeans. 

“If you tell Lewis or Max about this, I will be very upset,” she told him, as she turned on the water. 

“Ah, come on, I tell no one. Let me help, cariña,” Carlos protested. Beth nodded, and he stripped, stepping into the shower with her. 

As they stood under the water, muscles relaxing, Carlos grabbed a bottle of shower gel. 

“Why do you skate?” he asked, turning her around so he could soap up her back. “So competitively too. I don’t understand.”

Beth moaned softly at Carlos’ hands working across her back, massaging the tension in her shoulders. “I guess  it’s,” she started, but couldn’t finish. “I don’t know why I care so much. I mean, I’m too old for competitive skating anyway, and it’s never been something I actively wanted to compete in. I just happened to find it before I found karting.”

“Too old?” Carlos asked. 

“Well, skaters at the olympics and stuff are like 18 at most,” Beth explained, and she knew she was being a little dramatic. “I’m 23, and obviously not at that level.”

Carlos’ hands stopped moving. “23?” he repeated, and Beth turned to face him. 

“Yeah, why is everyone surprised about this?” 

“You’re like 5 years younger than me,” he worked out, brows raised. “And yet, I would never have known. You’re basically the same age as Lando.”

“Yeah, tesoro, that’s how that works,” she murmured, shoulders finally dropping as the hot water worked to release her tension. She dropped her head onto Carlos’ chest, and closed her eyes. 

“Next time I try and do something that stupid right before a race weekend, remind me of this,” she said after a few minutes silence. 

“Vale, cariña, vamos,” he replied, pulling her out the shower and wrapping her in a towel. Beth dried herself off, and picked up Carlos’ t-shirt, pulling it on. 

“Sleep,” Carlos said, as he pulled his underwear on, towelling his hair off, before lifting Beth off her feet and carrying her to bed. In her exhaustion and pain, she couldn’t protest, and allowed Carlos to put her into bed. 

“You’re staying,” she said, and he answered despite the fact she wasn’t asking. 

“Sí, cariña. There's a race to win tomorrow,” he replied. 

She curled up, and he pulled her into his chest, and they both fell asleep, dreaming about the race tomorrow. 

***

“God, I feel terrible,” Beth said, as she was dressing the next morning. 

“You have to know which fights to have,” Carlos said, still lying in bed. “One where you repeatedly end up on the floor of an ice rink might have been a bad choice.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Yeah, be as smug as you like.”

“No, not smug. Just right,” he replied, smirking a little. “Ay, come on,” he said, as she threw her shirt at him. 

“Take it back,” she said laughing, as she ran at the bed, jumping on it and pinning his hands down. 

“Don’t look at me like that, cariña,” Carlos said lowly, choosing his words carefully. 

“And why’s that?” she asked, one brow raised. 

“Because I can’t be held responsible for what happens next.”

She grinned, and shifting so she was straddling him, sitting on his hips. “And what do you think is going to happen next, tesoro?”

“Maybe nothing, because we’re going racing soon,” Carlos said, his voice low. “But, maybe something, because we’re only people.”

He sat up, locking their lips, as she ground her hips down into him. He gasped into her mouth, and she pulled her shirt off. Carlos, already conveniently shirtless, was tugging at her shorts, and she climbed off him, shedding the rest of her clothes. Carlos ditched his own underwear, reaching around in the bedside drawer. 

“Shit, cariña," Carlos whispered, looking at the bruises marring her sides. He pulled her gently in for a kiss, moving them as he distracted her until Beth was lying back in the bed. He trailed kisses down her, from her lips, down her neck, and sucked gently on her nipples, until Beth was writhing underneath him. 

“Carlos, please,” she managed. “Stop playing.” 

He came back up to her face, kissing her slowly, smirking a little into her lips at her desperation. Beth arched her back, and wrapped her hand around his cock. 

And now it was Beth’s turn to smirk. 

“Vale, vale, cariña,” Carlos said breathlessly. 

As he slid inside her, they both moaned. An it turned into a messy, lust-filled fuck, both of them chasing their orgasms, trying to fuck out the tension of the race day. They finished together, Carlos shouting unintelligible Spanish, and Beth murmuring in a mixture of languages that Carlos couldn’t make out. 

“We’re going to be so late,” Beth laughed, a few minutes later, after they caught their breath. 

Carlos rolled over onto his stomach, running his fingers through her hair. “Ay, I don’t care.”

She sat up, kissing him swiftly, before getting out of bed. “Can’t be late for the race, tesoro.”

Carlos groaned, as she walked into the bathroom and she shut the door. He sighed, staring at the closed door, before slumping back down on the pillows. 

*

They made it to the track with plenty of time, and intentionally split up before any cameras were around. No need to start any rumours circulating, though it probably wouldn’t be long before something new was said about her. Every few days, someone tried to spin a story out of nothing, mostly relating to her dating life, and it was suffocating, but she was trying to stop it from ruining her life. 

Jackson was in the Mercedes garage when she arrived, a few cameras already in his face, recognising the Figure Skating Olympic Gold Medallist. 

“So, this is what you drive,” he said, with a smile. “Reckon I could do it.”

She shot him a look. “Okay, I deserve that, but seriously, don’t touch my car.”

Jackson held his hands up, smirking. “Of course not, but cheers for the invite. This is fun.”

“This is my world. Have fun - I gotta get ready,” she said, leaving Jackson with Toto and Michael, and heading for her driver’s room. 

*

“And that’s the chequered flag, Beth, it’s a P4.” 

She swore quietly, and then turned her microphone back on. “Okay, we’ll debrief after I get out of media.”

“Yes, okay.”

Canadian Grand Prix: Beth Sanderson P4, Charles Leclerc P6, Carlos Sainz P7, Lewis Hamilton P1

Beth pulled into the pit lane, and left her car, not speaking to anyone as she weighed in, and made her way to the Mercedes garage. Jackson grabbed her arm, but she shook him off, shaking her head ever so slightly. 

“What happened?” he said, following her. 

“Fucking Lewis fucking Hamilton,” she cursed, throwing her helmet across the room, as Jackson shut the door. “What a cunty thing to do. Block me at the corner, and take my fucking front wing off so I get shoved to the back of the pack after such a long stop, and he doesn’t even get a fucking penalty for it.” 

Jackson was staring at her, and put a hand on her shoulder. 

“You still got fourth though,” he said carefully, recognising the anger smoldering behind her eyes. “You did so well to make it up from the back of the grid.”

“It wasn’t enough though, was it?” she said, sitting down heavily on the massage table. “Not fast enough, am I?” she laughed wryly. 

There was a knock at the door, and Michael walked in without waiting to be invited. 

“Get your ass up, now.”

Beth sighed, and stood. “I just needed a minute. Why didn’t Lewis get a penalty?”

Michael shrugged, but then his face tightened. “You know why, don’t make me say it. Let’s go and we’ll talk about it after they get back from the podium, please.”

“Just a minute, and I’ll be out.”

Michael nodded, and left, and Jackson raised a brow. 

“What did he mean, you know why? It’s a bit ominous.”

Beth shrugged, not wanting to voice that thought aloud. “Look, I need to go to media. But can we get food later, once I’m done? Unless you don’t want to hang about.”

Jackson just smiled. “I’ll be there. Go get the press over with.”

She sighed, and headed off into the garage, before someone else came looking for her. Passing through media in a blur, and ignoring everyone, she moved back to the garage and sat in the briefing room. Lewis took the seat opposite her, freshly showered after the champagne celebrations. She was still in her race-suit, a blank expression plastered on her face. Lewis tried to catch her eye, but Beth pulled her headphones on, staring at the screen on the data replays. On all her overtakes as she made her places back up the grid, from eighteenth, up to fourth. 

“Okay, let’s keep this short,” Toto said, gathering everyone’s attention. “Congratulations Lewis on the win, and the team on that incredible stop with Beth, it’s not often we do the front-wing swap in an actual race, it was in good time. Beth, great job making up the places and good points for the team.”

She stared resolutely at the screen.

“How did the set-up feel today?”

Lewis looked to Beth, to see if she wanted to speak first, but she remained quiet. “Well, it was pretty good, a little more understeer towards the end of the race than is ideal.” 

The engineers around were taking notes, hanging onto Lewis’ every word. 

“Beth?” Toto prompted. 

“Yeah, it was good, appreciate the job everyone did with the front wing replacement. Straight line speed was a little lacking on my set-up, so maybe we tend towards the other for next race.” She didn’t look at Lewis once, just allowing the meeting to keep going around her, barely saying anything unless directly spoken to. 

“Right, we’ll see everyone at the factory on Tuesday please for Silverstone prep.”

Beth was the first out of her seat, and to her driver’s room, closing the door and stripping her race suit off. It was only a minute before there was a knock at the door. 

“I’ll just be a second Jackson, and we can go,” she called, and the door opened, Beth, with her back to him, just laughed. “Eager, much? Just because you see me naked before dinner, doesn’t mean you get-” she turned, and sighed. 

“Nice one, could have told me it was you.”

Beth pulled her clothes on, ignoring the way Lewis was tracking her movements. 

“Sorry, wasn’t trying to mislead you,” he said quietly. “You pissed at me?”

She raised a brow. “You take my front wing out at the first corner, no penalty and I end up at the back of the grid, whilst you win the race.”

“I’ll take that, yes, we got too close and it was my fault but it’s not my fault about the penalty.”

Beth shrugged. “Done now, isn’t it? 

Lewis tilted his head. “Come on, we’re going to be like this?”

Beth tied her shoes, and threw all her things in her bag. “What do you want?”

Lewis didn’t say anything for a moment. Beth sighed, and tried to push past him out of the room, but he caught her arm. “Please, don’t run away right now. Talk to me. I know what happened, and I’m sorry I hit you, but it’s not my fault that you ended up 18th after the pits, or that I didn’t get a penalty for it. But, Beth, we gotta keep on and off track separate.”

Her jaw ticked. “Fine. I’ll be over it by tomorrow. But today, I’m asking you for space.”

“Okay, love. I’m going.” Despite his win, and that he should have been so excited for the celebration, he bit his lip, just waiting a few seconds more, waiting to see if Beth might change her mind. She turned back into her room, throwing her things together, ignoring him. In her mind, it was for the best, otherwise Beth couldn’t trust herself not to say something she would regret. 

Lewis left, albeit reluctantly, and Beth wasn’t far behind, catching up with Jackson in the garage. 

“Let’s go,” Beth said, linking their arms. “What should we eat?”

“I can’t stop thinking about you in a race suit,” Jackson admitted, as they made their way to parking. “Very sexy,” he whispered, lips hidden by her hair. 

Beth grinned. “Room service it is, then.”

Jackson squeezed her hand, and they left the paddock, and headed for Beth’s hotel room. 

***

Chapter Text

As she arrived at the paddock for media day, she was called into a meeting with Lewis, and both their trainers. 

“So we’ve had a little issue with the weight of the car, something we found out after the last race, on the Monday,” Toto started. “There’s been an investigation into the car, but there’s nothing wrong with the actual car. So there’s an issue with driver weight.”

“Under or over?” Lewis asked.

“You’re both a little more under than usual, but Beth, you’re very under.”

She swallowed. “How much?” 

“Well, you know it has to be 80, and we’ve had sand bags in the car before to bulk the weight, but you were too far under.”

Beth’s trainer stepped in, as she watched Toto struggle for the words. “Beth, your weight loss over the last few races has given the FIA, and us, doubts that your body is in good enough condition to race this weekend.”

“What, why would you think that?”

“Since Monaco, you’ve lost too much off your pre-race weight. You’ve not gained back anything you’ve lost during races.”

Beth stayed silent, drumming her fingers on her knee. She caught the look exchanged between Toto and Harriet, and winced. 

“I can gain it back,” she assured them, a little frantically. “You can’t take me out of my home race. Has my performance been an issue in the car?”

“You were almost disqualified from last week, and didn’t even know it,” Toto replied, and Beth looked at the table. 

“Test me,” she insisted. “Test my reflexes, my endurance, everything today, and give me until France to get my weight back.”

“If you fail a single test, I will put a reserve driver in for the weekend. Nyck is already scheduled for first practice. Lewis, you’re going to have to fill in for the FIA press conference,” Toto said, and he nodded. Lewis had sat quietly observing the conversation, as his worry spiked. “I don’t need another Maria Longford.” Beth stiffened, though Lewis didn’t know the name. 

“I’m not Maria,” she said shortly. “Leave her out of it.”

“Who?” Lewis asked, but Beth just shook her head slightly, and Lewis didn’t push the issue. Harriet started laying out the tests they were going to do, and though Lewis was released from the meeting, the way Beth looked at him, silently begging with her eyes for him to stay, kept him in his seat. 

Lewis followed her to her driver’s room after briefing, and as Beth was changing into her racesuit, he looked closely at her, and could see what Toto had been talking about. She was thinner, her custom base layers looser than they should be, than they were at the beginning of the season.

“Are you alright?”

“Just fine,” she replied shortly, zipping up the fireproof suit. 

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Stupid question.” 

She grabbed her hairbrush, and turned to the mirror. “Want to talk about it?” he asked her, watching as she ran the brush through her hair. 

Beth stayed quiet, and Lewis came up behind her, a hand on her waist. Her hands shook a little, and he took the brush from her hand, continuing to run it through her hair. He didn’t force her, push her too quickly, and just gave her the time she wanted, to sort through her thoughts. 

“I always used to forget to eat, when I was karting,” she whispered. “I was so busy, so stressed, that between trying to work anything I could to get the money to pay for it, and hoping to fuck I would be good enough for it to pay off.” 

“It took some of the other parents at the tracks bringing me food, reminding me to eat after a race, even if I was their kid’s rival.” Beth smiled wryly. “I was the kid at the track with no parents, or a mum that didn’t care enough to even watch, or stay the whole time.”

“I just forget to eat when it’s busy and stressful,” she said. “And this year, with Mercedes, it’s been stressful, like trying to prove myself every race that I can win, and the gap - it’s just not close enough.”

Lewis stayed quiet for a moment, continuing brushing her hair. Beth wasn’t intimidated by the silence, just entirely comfortable in Lewis’ presence. 

“How can I help?” 

She sighed. “You can’t. I need to get my head in the game, focus on racing and keeping my body healthy enough to race.”

He put the brush down, and wrapped his arms around her waist. “You don’t have to do this alone, Beth.”

She leant her head back on Lewis’ shoulder. Tears fell down her face, and she let them, just finding Lewis’ hand, and lacing their fingers together. They stayed silent for a while, until there was a knock on the door. 

“Beth, we need to get started to be ready for practice,” Harriet called through the door. “Get these tests done.”

They untangled their arms, and Beth wiped her eyes. She forced a smile. “At least I get out of media, right?”

Lewis laughed. “Yeah, baby. At least you get out of media.”

*

Lewis did not get out of media. His attention was elsewhere, as he dealt with enough interviews and reporters that Mercedes fulfilled their media requirement with only the one driver. It tested his patience a little, but giving Beth the privacy she needed to focus on being race-ready was worth it. Even as the other drivers were asking him where she was, and why the last-minute change of driver for specific group interviews and videos. 

The most awkward conversation was with Lando as Lewis failed to realise how well he actually knew Beth. 

“You’re volunteering extra time with reporters?” Lando asked, as they walked down the paddock. “Where’s Beth today?”

“Migraine,” Lewis said for the millionth time today. “The team wanted to give her some time to recover before the racing starts.”

“Oh, rough,” Lando said with a sympathetic smile. “I’ve got a gap after this one, I’ll go and check in with her.”

Lewis shook his head. “Nah, she just needs rest, man. Don’t worry about her.”

Lando raised a brow at the older man, but didn’t say anything else as they walked down to the interview. Just before they got there, Lewis stopped him. 

“Do you know who Maria Longford is?”

Lando’s face fell, his jaw tight. “Migraine, huh?” Lando shrugged Lewis’ hand off his shoulder, playing nervously with the rings he wore. 

Lewis forced a laugh. “What? Yeah, she wasn’t feeling great this morning.”

George rounded the corner, one brow raised at the missing British driver in the quartet that had been scheduled for the interview. They were pulled into the interview before Lando could turn around, and even George picked up on the tension between Lewis and Lando, so the likelihood the camera did was high. 

When they were let go, Lando made a quick exit, Lewis following him, and leaving George behind, just as confused as he’d been at the start of the interview. 

“Lando,” Lewis said, jogging to keep up with him, ignoring the stares of the people in the paddock around them. 

Lando said nothing, his jaw tight, as they approached the Mercedes and Mclaren hospitality units. His mind had been working overtime during the interviews, unable to focus, and George had prompted him multiple times that someone was talking to him. His mind was consumed with Beth, remembering the scared little girl she had been on track, too thin, and too likely to pass out at the end of a race from dehydration and exhaustion. And her friend, their friend, who had never made it out of the illness, was Maria Longford. Beth had let herself be helped, had seen the detrimental effect it had on her racing and put an end to it. 

Or so Lando had thought. Every so often, she slipped back into it, but now, when they were in the racing cars of their dreams, he couldn’t believe he had missed it. When it was more important than ever. 

Before he could go inside the Mercedes unit and find her, he stopped, and grabbed Lewis by the arm, leading him down the gap between the units, to as close to privacy as they were going to get at Silverstone. 

“How bad?” Lando asked urgently. Lewis blinked at him, and Lando rolled his eyes. “Stop playing dumb, Lewis. It doesn’t suit you. Can you tell me, or not?”

Lewis shook his head. “It’s not my place, Lando. You need to talk to her, but not here, not now. It attracts attention she needs to avoid if we make it out of this weekend with minimal rumours.”

Lando was torn - how much did he care about starting rumours in favour of checking in and helping her? 

“Fine,” he shook his head, staring past Lewis and at the people wandering past. “Just …” he paused, as if trying to find the words, “-check on her, for me? Tell her I’ll be around at the end of the day.”

Lewis nodded. Lando hesitated, before heading out, and into the Mclaren motorhome. 

Sighing, Lewis headed inside to see Beth, to find her room empty. Knowing she was probably still being put through the paces of testing her strength and responses, he waited for her. His next interview, the last of the day, thankfully, wasn’t for another couple of hours. 

But she didn’t appear; he couldn’t really hold it against her. She didn’t know he was waiting, and she had to be stuck in meetings and training. All the eyes in Mercedes were on her this weekend, hoping that she would be driving and doing the best for the team. And Lewis knew he had to do the same, that the pressure was high enough that the team needed the best from them both. 

He reluctantly headed off to another interview, before joining the briefing room about the weekend ahead. She wasn’t there, and when Bono caught him staring at Beth’s empty seat, he nudged Lewis’ shoulder. 

“She’s gone to rest back at the hotel. Harriet’s with her. Focus on your weekend, Lewis.”

Lewis nodded. “Did she- is she going to…” he trailed off, not sure if it was his place to ask. To be checking up on her, but they were teammates after all, and a reserve driver would affect their strategy. 

“She’s driving this weekend, and the team have a plan to get her back to normal,” Bono explained, and the tension in Lewis’ chest lessened. “She’s been briefed already about the weekend’s strategy.”

Lewis nodded, and straightened, as Toto walked into the room, finally allowing himself to focus on his race weekend, and stop worrying about Beth, just for a little while. 

**

The drivers piled onto the parade truck, waiting to be taken around the track on race day morning. Beth stood with Mick, Lando, Daniel and Seb, ignoring the way Lewis was watching her. Silverstone is a special weekend for him, well, for her really too, but he wasn’t paying attention to the thousands of people here to support him. Lando was loving being at Silverstone, and George, on the other side of the truck, was chatting with Alex, and waving. 

Silverstone had been a place that she loved. A track she loved to race at, somewhere she adored the energy of, and gaining points at. Maybe she wouldn’t quite define it as a home race - Barcelona felt more like her home race, and technically, half her parentage was unknown, so, if she wanted to, she could find out, and change. But, Silverstone was a place that she loved. And a circuit full of excitement that she loved to race on.

“How aren’t you loving this?” Lando asked, nudging Beth out of her daydreams. Except she wasn’t paying attention, and she stumbled back into Daniel. His arms went around her automatically to steady her, and Lewis, across the truck, stepped forward, as if to move to her. Carlos, next to him, followed his line of sight, one brow quirked at her closeness to Daniel. 

“Are you alright?” Daniel whispered to her, fingers clamped around her waist. “Need to sit down?”

“I’m good,” she replied, but Daniel still didn’t let go, unconvinced. “Just a little light-headed, that’s all.”

Seb stepped closer, blocking them from view from the other drivers. “Are you fine to drive? If you pass out in the car-”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Trust me, Toto wouldn’t let me drive if he thought it was too risky. Too expensive for the team.” She forced a laugh, but Seb just narrowed his eyes, and Daniel still didn’t let go. Lando was just watching her in a quiet way, and she knew, she couldn’t lie to him. Not when he knew her so well. 

“You gotta look after yourself,” Seb said gently. “Mentally and physically, you know?”

Daniel’s arm moved, around her waist, tightening a little, and she twisted, looking at him as he hesitated, words waiting on his tongue. Fear worked its way into her, knowing what he could feel under her clothes, the thinness that shouldn’t be there, but she just hugged him, her hair concealing as she whispered into his ear, “Please, Danny, don’t say anything. I’m working on it.”

Daniel’s expression was one of concern as Beth pulled out of his arms, standing up straight, and plastering a smile to her face. She wandered away, ignoring the sets of eyes burning into her back, and joined Max and Charles, chatting about sim racing, and losing herself in the racing talk. About half the eyes on the truck were watching her, but Beth did what she knew best how to do after only driving - ignore unwanted attention. And Charles was oblivious to how she was using him and Max as a distraction. 

**

This time, Lewis couldn’t stop Lando from entering the Mercedes motorhome and heading to Beth’s driver room. She was getting ready for the race when Lando walked in without knocking, Lewis right behind him trying to subtly stop him without attracting attention. 

Beth was half-way into her race suit, the arms tied around her waist, and Lando, stopping so suddenly Lewis almost walked into him, tensed at the sight of her. 

“Why are you doing this?” Lando asked, and Beth just stared at the floor. 

“I didn’t mean to,” she whispered, and Lando crossed the small space, wrapping his arms around her. She rested her head on his shoulder, face turned towards his neck, and Lewis could see her shoulders shaking under Lando’s embrace. 

Lewis backed out of the room, shutting the door carefully, and headed to his own room. There was still a race on, but he struggled to get Beth out of his mind, to tamp down the sudden jealousy he had of Lando, for knowing her so well they could communicate without words. And Daniel, he’d known something, Lewis was sure of it, the way he’d steadied her, and kept her upright on the truck. 

He changed into his race suit, letting the world around him melt away as he focused on the race. 

**

Silverstone Grand Prix: Beth Sanderson P5, Carlos Sainz P1, Charles Leclerc P7, Lewis Hamilton P2

After leaving the car in park ferme after the race, she raced over to Carlos, standing surrounded by his team. 

“Está ganador de carrera, Carlos!” she said, as she tugging him into a hug. “Felcididades, tesoro.” [you're a race winner, Carlos ... congratulations, love]

She had to resist the urge to kiss him, to run her fingers through his sweaty hair and instead just held him for as long as she could, feeling his body shaking in her arms. And then she’s dragged in one direction and him in another; she goes straight to the media pen to get it over with, and then returns to watch with her team, Lewis on the podium, but she’s watching Carlos. The relief on his face at his first race win. She wished she could stay, could celebrate with him, but she owes Lewis her time. Her explanation. She’ll make it up to Carlos soon. 

Beth smiled softly as Lewis handed his trophy to Toto, before heading to his room to shower off the champagne. She followed, knocking gently on his door, and Lewis ushered her inside. 

“Do you want to talk?” Lewis asked, and Beth bit her lip, sighing. 

“Maria was my best friend for a long time,” she started, without preamble. “We were the only two girls at the go-karting track, and it felt us like against the world. She started losing weight to go faster, to give herself the edge over me, because she wasn’t as good. Everyone could see it, and Lando tried to help us both, when I started doing the same thing, just to match her.”

Lewis stayed quiet, just holding her hand, waiting for Beth to continue. He didn’t want to interrupt, to take over her thoughts and stop her from talking. 

“After I won the under 12’s European championship, Maria couldn’t handle it and stopped talking to me, would see me as her competition, just because we were both girls and the likelihood of two girls getting F3 sponsorships was so low, we  had to be better than the other. She passed out in the kart in the final round of the under 14s, and crashed into the wall.” Beth exhaled raggedly. “She was so underweight her heart stopped multiple times. Our competition, it was killing her to try and beat me. So Lando persuaded her to quit karting, to get some help.”

“She’s still in treatment, but it’s horrible, Lewis. Every time she gains enough weight to leave, she starts back up with trying to lose it, and ends up right back where she started. And I - I can’t see her, because I remind her of everything she’s lost to the illness, and it sets her off.”

Beth stops talking, and Lewis waits for a while, to see if she’s just trying to find the words, but, no, she’s done talking about it for the day. 

“None of that is your fault, love,” Lewis says, squeezing her hand. 

Beth nodded, and in a small voice, asked, “can I stay with you tonight?”

Lewis smiled, kissing her hair as he stood up. “Of course, love. Let me shower, and we can go?”

She let go of his hand, pulling her knees up to her chest and rest her chin on them. Lewis takes the fastest shower of his life, and Beth barely registers as he returns to the room, naked, and dresses in street clothes. She’s already ready to go, having less interviews than him earlier. 

They leave the paddock, and Lewis drives, which is strange in and of itself, because she always loves to drive them around. He doesn’t comment, just takes them to the hotel, and as he promised, they stay together all night. Even when the nightmares surface, he’s there to help, to soothe, to calm. 

**

Carlos shut his door, finding a moment of peace around his team. There was a knock at his door moments later, as he’d barely managed to get the sleeves of his race suit off. 

“Ay, díos, un momento,” Carlos called, expecting his manager at the door. 

The door opened anyway, and Carlos turned with a brow raised, and words on his tongue, but they died as he saw Charles in his doorway, leaning against the frame. With his hair tousled from the race, helmet lines marring his perfect face, and eyes filled with pride. 

“Congratulations,” Charles said, “your first win, it’s amazing.”

Carlos grinned. “You said that earlier, remember?”

Charles tilted his eyes down. He stepped into the room, and shut the door softly behind him. Carlos watched as Charles moved towards him, trying to ignore the way his heart jumped. He had seen everything of his teammate. Seen every possible iteration of Charles’ mood, but this, this gentle happiness, the pride settled him on edge. 

“I wanted to say it again,” Charles said, “and I wanted to tell you when we were alone.”

“And why’s that?” Carlos asked, one brow raised. 

Charles exhaled softly. “You don’t know?”

“Mate, I-”

“Don’t call me mate,” Charles interrupted quickly. “I can’t have you calling me mate when all I can think about when you were on that podium, spraying champagne everywhere was your lips.” 

A small smile spread over Carlos’ face, and Charles’ cheeks tinged pink, as he looked away from the Spaniard. Carlos reached over, hooking his finger under Charles’ chin, bringing his eyes back up. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, hermoso,” Carlos said gently. “You never have to be embarrassed with me.”

The sincerity rang in Carlos’ voice, and Charles couldn’t stand the distance anymore. He stepped closer, and his arm snaked around Carlos’ waist, as Carlos cupped his face. 

“I think,” Charles started, and watched as Carlos darted his tongue out, wetting his lips. 

“Don’t think, don’t analyse, just act,” Carlos said, “Hermoso,” he added teasingly. 

Charles closed the gap, their lips barely touching at first. Charles wove his fingers into Carlos’ hair, tugging him closer. Tongues clashed, and bodies pressed together, as the barriers between them fell away. Charles moaned into Carlos’ mouth, and found his way underneath Carlos’ shirt with his hand, fingers running over the hard planes of his abdomen. 

Carlos tensed suddenly under Charles’ touch. 

“What is it?” Charles said, pulling back, but only slightly, hands moving to Carlos’ hips. “You - you don’t want -”

Charles stepped away, muttering to himself in French. Carlos could barely understand, picking up only a couple of words. 

“Stop,” Carlos said, grabbing his shoulder. “Don’t go.” 

“Was - was it just for Beth, in Australia?” Charles asked, without looking at him. 

“No,” Carlos replied instantly. “Not just for her. But Charles, I’ve not - I don’t know -”

Charles laughed softly, smiling. “Why do you think I know anything more than you do?”

It was rare for Carlos to be the nervous one, and Charles the confident. He reached out to the Spaniard, his hand on Carlos’ waist. “We move so fast, all the time, maybe it is time to slow down, eh?”

“Yeah,” Carlos said, looking at the floor. 

“Come to my room later, if you want to. No pressure,” Charles said, tilting Carlos’ chin up gently until their eyes met. “Enjoy your victory party.”

***

Chapter Text

Beth was still trying as hard as she could to put the weight back on, to make herself eat so much of what Harriet threw her way she thought she’d throw up, and then turn it all into muscle in the gym. No cardio, all weights - her least favourite bit. 

She was training with everyone. She and Lewis went to the gym after being at the Mercedes HQ and running the simulator. Beth met with Lando and Alex to go with them in the mornings she had a late start in meetings and press. Carlos had stayed in London for a few days after the grand prix, and she dragged him out of bed, hungover, to the gym. 

She was making progress though, and at the end of the first week of the three-week intensive course she was doing, she was on track to be in the right place by France. And, thankfully, there had been no rumours that she was underweight, that she might be on the verge of losing her seat. 

She flew alone to Austria, having left at the last possible moment to be on time for practice 1. She’d been given a free pass out of interviews and media with a fake illness, so she could focus on her weight and her health and be in a good position to go into the Red Bull Ring. 

As she hit the garage on Friday morning, she was ready and focused, knowing she had put in as much effort as she could. Annabelle shuttled her straight to the weigh-in as soon as she was dressed in her fireproofs, knowing she wouldn’t be able to focus on any press or interviews until they had their answers if this was working. She waited in line with the other drivers who had just got in. She chatted with Pierre and Alex, as they waited, and when Beth was called up, she had half a mind to ask to not have an audience. No need for anyone outside their team to know how close she had been to not racing at Silverstone. But that would attract questions, and she wanted no focus on her. 

She stepped on the scales, and was handed a slip of paper. She looked to Annabelle and Harriet, both of whom were smiling. Beth sighed with relief - one less thing to worry about this weekend. They headed back to the garage, and Beth walked around her car, examining it from the outside. They’d just put a new upgrade into it, and it would hopefully be good enough for a double Mercedes podium finish. 

Beth headed out into the pit lane, making her way towards the crowd of drivers all standing around and chatting. 

“Buenos días,” she said, and they all smiled. She boosted herself up to sit on the pit lane tyre barrier, glancing at the sky. “Looks like it’s going to rain.” All the drivers looked up, and her assessment was accurate, the sky was dark and stormy-looking, and Alex groaned. 

“Extra stops and safety cars,” Lando said, downcast. 

“You were always good in the rain,” a woman’s voice said, breaking through their group. As everyone turned, Beth got a clear look. 

“What are you doing here?” Beth didn’t pay attention to the man behind her mother, only tried to understand what she was doing here. 

“Can we speak, Bethany, please?”

“I’ve got a race weekend to think about, Mother,” Beth replied, jumping down from the barrier. “Why now? What’s your agenda this time?”

Beth’s phone started ringing before her mother could come up with an answer. 

“Sanderson,” she answered, and paused. “Okay, on my way.” She looked up, ignoring her mother and turning to the other drivers. “I’ll see you all on the track.”

Beth sailed through FP1 and 2, not going the fastest of the grid, but getting all good information about the car and the tyres. The rain started at the end of FP2, and continued as they approached evening, still in the garage analysing the data and making adjustments. 

She and Lewis went out to get food after they were done, and were met by Charles, Carlos and Lando. 

“What happened earlier, with your mum?” Lando asked after they’d ordered food. “Looked pretty intense.”

“Your mum’s here?” Lewis asked, raising a brow. 

Beth played with her glass. “She’s - we have a strange relationship,” she started, nodding at Lewis. “She’s always been more interested in her most recent boyfriend than in me, or any part of my life. The last four times she’s phoned me, she’s asking for money, and that’s over like eight months. Today was the first time I’ve ever seen her at one of my races since being F1.”

“That’s shitty,” Lewis replied, drumming his fingers on his knee to try and keep his anger at bay. He was getting increasingly more protective as her past had started to come out, and as she’d been unable to manage her weight. He was the more senior driver, and should have been doing a better job at helping out his teammate, but the lines were so blurry, he could never tell what was normal, or what would put them both in the headlines. They could spin a story out of anything. 

“It is what it is, I don’t need her, I’ve proved that,” Beth shrugged. “I’d bet she’s here either for money or because she’s getting married again, and wants me to meet whichever arsehole she chose this time.”

“Maybe the guy’s alright this time?” Lando tried a positive spin, but Beth shook her head. 

“Statistically unlikely. Whilst I lived at home, until I was 15, she brought home a total of 9 men, at least, 9 that I can remember. There was creepy, thief, violent, pedophile, thief number two, rapist, violent, rapist and the one who ditched me in Argentina. She’s nine for nine with shitty men.” Beth counted them all off so casually, and the four guys around her were stunned. Lewis collected himself from his shock first.

“Well, we can be your family, Beth,” Lewis said, and Charles nodded instantly. “If your mother was putting you at a young age in situations with those kinds of people, she doesn’t deserve your time, money or affection.”

Beth chuckled. “I lost the affection a long time ago, just never expected her to show up at a race. Anyway, she’s not worth talking about anymore.” They took that as a clear sign to change the subject, and Carlos was quick to fill the silence.

“I was thinking, to have a week holiday during summer break, at my family beach house,” Carlos said, and Charles grinned. Clearly they’d been discussing this before. “Invite everyone, their partners, have some fun, eh?”

“Sounds amazing,” Beth replied, and Lando agreed.

“Party at the Sainz,” Lando grinned. 

“Would be fun, but I’ve gotta check in with family over the break, got brand deals and shit to do,” Lewis said apologetically. “But maybe I’ll swing by for a night if I can.”

Their food all arrived, and the conversation fell into comfortable silence as they ate. They returned to their hotel - all of them had ended up in the same place this time around - and Beth stopped, Lando walking into her, as she spotted her mother in the lobby, arguing with the receptionist.

“She’s my daughter, why can’t you tell me her room number?” Mary Sanderson was saying. 

“Stop hassling the staff, Mother,” Beth said, as the poor receptionist was almost at the point of calling security. Beth smiled at the receptionist. “Do you have a spare conference room we can use for a few minutes?”

As the receptionist nodded, grabbing a keycard and walking down the hall, Lewis grabbed Beth’s arm. “Do you want backup, or us to go?”

“Stay,” Beth managed, though Lando had already disappeared. 

“McLaren were phoning him,” Carlos explained, as he saw Beth looking. She nodded, then turned and followed her mother. 

“Why are they here?” her mother asked, gesturing to the three men behind her. 

“They’re the family I found, and the family I chose,” Beth replied, “they stay.”

Her mother didn’t argue with Beth’s no-nonsense tone, and instead sat on the edge of the table. 

“What is it that you need from me?” 

“I can’t come to my daughter’s race without wanting something?” 

“You never have before,” Beth replied, and she wasn’t angry. Just exhausted, tired of the same arguments going around in circles every time she saw Mary. “I send you a paddock pass every year, and you choose not to use it. You know, you remember that first one, when I’d just signed with Toro Rosso? I paid for that one - I was in so much debt at that point, and had finally made it into F1, and I still bought it for you. You didn’t use it once.”

“I was in the States that year, you know that.”

“I raced in Miami, you were living in Miami!”

Beth took a deep breath, and felt Carlos behind her, stepping forward and putting a hand on her shoulder. 

“Me quieres ayudar?” Carlos murmured, and Beth shook her head. [Do you want me to help?]

“Mother, why are you here? No more games.”

“It’s family business,” she said, and Beth shrugged.

“Okay, well if it’s truly not that important, I guess I’ll see you around.”

“I’m getting married,” Mary burst out, as the four of them had turned to leave. “John’s good, I swear it. He’s kind, and earns his own money, and loves me.” 

“When?” Beth asked. 

“July 31st,” she replied. “I want you to be there, I want you to meet John.”

“I’m working,” Beth said bluntly. “In Hungary, which you would know, if you actually gave a fuck about me. But you didn’t, and you don’t, so congratulations.”

“Bethany, please-”

“No, I know what you’re going to ask. You probably need money for the wedding, and the answer is no. You probably think I can just take a weekend off, which I can’t, even if I wanted to.” Beth sighed. “Go home, Mother. I have nothing left to say.”

Beth turned around and walked out, her three men following her. They all took the stairs up to her room, and as soon as they got to her door, they found Max waiting outside. 

“Lando called me, are you alright?” Max said, closing the distance between them and pulling her into a hug. “Mary’s here?”

Beth nodded into his chest, and Lewis pulled out his spare key for her room, letting them all inside, rather than risk this interaction ending up on the internet. 

“Guys, I’m fine, really,” Beth assured them, as they all watched her closely. “This isn’t the first time, nor will it be the last, that she fucks up.”

“She seriously scheduled her wedding for a race day?” Charles asked, and Beth shrugged. 

“Mary knows nothing about this sport. She doesn’t care to, only that I have money should she need it for whatever she wants.” 

They lapsed into silence, and Beth sat down on one of the sofas. They all followed suit, Carlos sitting next to Beth. She leant her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes. 

“How did you ever get into karting?” Charles asked. “I mean, on your own when you are young, it is almost impossible, no?”

“Difficult, on the money side of things, but the rest was fine, I mean, I was doing it for myself. I drove because I wanted to, and I taught myself everything I needed. Why do you think there’s a room in my house with so many of your old races? Teaching myself, analysing all the reasons.”

Carlos stretched his arm around her. “And look where you are now. Driving for Mercedes in Formula 1.” 

“Hard work pays off,” Beth smiled, and she glanced at the clock. “Shit, it’s late, we should be in bed!”

They all got up, and Lewis hugged her, reminding her softly about the meeting they had in the morning. Beth didn’t need to hear anything else, only feel him against her. Max hugged her next, whispering into her hair.

“Anything at all tomorrow, you find me, okay? Any shit Mary tried to pull on you, I’m there.”

She smiled at him, and he headed off, leaving Beth with the two Ferrari drivers. 

“We can’t be tired going into qualifying,” she reminded them gently, reading their reluctance to leave. “I’m really not in the mood for anything more, okay?” 

“We know,” Charles said. “But we can stay anyway?” 

Beth nodded, pulling them both into her arms. “I - you want to sleep here?” 

They both agreed, and Beth went to her cases, pulling out some clothes for them. 

“These look familiar,” Charles said, eyebrow raised. Beth giggled. 

“What can I say, I prefer your clothes,” she said. “They’re much comfier.”

Carlos stripped off his shirt from today and threw it at her, and Beth laughed at his eagerness. She pulled it on, and the men changed out of their evening clothes. She climbed into bed, Carlos on her left and Charles on her right. 

It felt right, and it felt safe, with her boys beside her, and even as she was drifting off to sleep, the thought fucking terrified her.

***

“Who let her into the garage?” Beth asked, as she came out her driver’s room, to see Mary standing and chatting with some guests of Mercedes. 

“Not sure,” Michael said, “think Toto was chatting to her earlier though. Beth, you need to focus on warming up.”

Beth stared at her mother, as Mary hadn’t noticed her entering the garage. “I’ll be outside.” She wasn’t in her fireproofs as she joined the pit crew’s exercising, just getting herself ready for the final practice session. She stopped paying attention, and someone threw a resistance band to her - warming up with the crew wasn’t something she did often, only when she was getting too distracted alone and needed some accountability. 

“Tell me something,” Mary said, standing right behind her. Beth whirled around unsettled, as her mother grasped her wrists, pinning her arms to her side. “Are you that slow on track as well, or did you just forget the things I taught you?”

Beth pulled one wrist away, and shook her head. 

“Mother, we’re probably on television at the moment. How about we don’t do this?”

“Fine, remind me why we don’t speak. I tried to teach you how to defend yourself, and now, posh girlie is too high and mighty for her mother because there’s a camera around?”

Beth shook her head at the floor, in disbelief. “Are you serious? All I’m saying is I can’t have some warped self-defence session with you on live TV five hours before qualifying.”

She turned away, joining back in trying to ignore Mary, but she had other ideas. Mary turned, then spun down, sweeping Beth’s legs out from under her. Beth’s head hit the tarmac with a thud, and she groaned, but was on her feet quickly. 

“What the fuck?” Her mother started to throw punches at her, and Beth blocked and dodged, barely having the time to think about what the team was doing around them. They’d all stopped to watch, as had other pit crews down the lane. 

She wasn’t trying to fight, Beth didn’t want to fight her mother, she wanted Mary to leave. She couldn’t do this, not on TV, not before qualifying. Her head was throbbing, and she was just trying to protect herself. 

“You should be stronger than me, the whole athlete thing,” Mary said, as Beth batted her fist away. “So you’re not trying; it’s pathetic.” 

Beth tried to put the distance between them, but Mary grabbed the end of her braid and tugged, putting her daughter into a headlock. 

“Come on, Bethany, look around you! All these men, you actually trust any of them? Have you ever had a team who haven’t touched you, or fucked you without you wanting them to? Why the fuck would you trust anything after your experience?”

They’d attracted quite the crowd, and she could see as the Ferrari engineers tried to hold Carlos and Charles back. Could see her boys so desperate to reach her. Lando was sprinting down the pit lane, fear in his eyes. He was one of the few people who had seen her do this before, trackside at one of their junior karting events. 

“Mother, don’t make me do this,” Beth said hoarsely. Mary’s grip only tightened, and Beth snapped. She broke her mother’s hold easily enough, all her supposed training coming back to her. But instead of letting Mary win, Beth just backed up, Lando appearing at her back. Mary lunged for her, and Beth felt Lando find her hand, squeezing her fingers. 

Finally, security appeared in force, pulling Mary away before she could get to Beth and escorting her out of the pit lane and away. Beth, unable to even look at Lando, ran into the Mercedes garage and to her driver’s room, but as she rounded a corner, she ran straight into Lewis. 

“Hey, what’s the rush?” Lewis asked, smiling, before he took in the state of Beth, and the tears running down her face. He pulled her into his arms, cradling her head, and she hissed in pain. Lewis’ hand had spots of red on it as he pulled back, and his heart started racing. 

“Baby, what happened?” he whispered, but as it became clear Beth couldn’t - or wouldn’t - form the words, he called for a medic. Held his hand against the back of her head to try and stop the bleeding a little as they waited. 

A medic was over a minute later, and Beth sat on the floor as he checked out the back of her head. 

“You’re lucky - it’s just a small scrape, and you don’t appear to be concussed. How’s your pain level?” 

“3,” Beth said, trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible. The medic gave her some advice and left, and Lewis helped her up, heading to his driver’s room with his arm around her waist. 

Lewis sat on the bed, pulling Beth onto his lap and she nestled her head into his chest. 

“What happened?” he asked softly. 

“Mary happened,” Beth managed, hiccupping as she tried to hold back her tears. “Some lesson about self-defense that I forgot from when I was a kid, and that turned into a fight.” 

“Oh, darling,” Lewis said, pulling her tighter into his chest. 

They stayed still for a while, as Beth cried and Lewis held her. Her mum had been a problem for a long time, but never so publicly as to call everything out in the pit lane on TV. 

A knock came at the door, and Beth sat up, trying to move out of Lewis’ arms, but he wouldn’t let go. 

“Who is it?” he asked. 

“Toto, is Beth with you?” their team principal asked, and Beth pried Lewis’ fingers off her arm, and sat on the bed next to him. 

“Yeah, come in,” she replied, fingers on the back of her head as she gently probed at the wound. 

“Can you please explain to me why one of my drivers was fighting with a guest in the pit lane?”

Beth sighed. “My mother has a warped sense of the idea of mother-daughter bonding; her ideas include self-defence lessons, public humiliation and shouting about my history with sexual assault on TV.”

Toto couldn’t find the words to respond for a minute, and just stood, processing. 

“I’m sorry, Beth, we’ll put a ban on her ever being here again. And can you race today?”

Beth nodded. “Yeah, should be fine. Medic said I was alright.” 

Toto made a small noise of approval. “Okay then. One hour until practice three. Make sure you’re ready.”

Toto closed the door behind him as he left, and Beth sighed, dropping her head against Lewis’ shoulder. He twisted, and pressed a kiss to her head. 

“Are you sure about driving? Nyck can do it if you need time.”

“I’ll be fine, I need to speak to Harriet,” she said, standing up. Lewis held onto her fingers loosely, looking pleadingly at her. He stood up, and pulled her into a tight hug, kissing her head. 

“Honestly, I’m alright, just a little shaken,” she insisted, stepping back as she felt tears rising to the surface. She blinked them away, and left his room quickly, without waiting for what he would say next. Beth exercised in her room, trying to push away her mother and everything she’d done, whilst attempting to formulate a plan of how she could possibly go to her interviews later and speak to the press. She suited herself up as practice neared, and headed out into the garage, balaclava in hand. Before she stepped out, she put her headphones on, her request from her team for quiet, for focus. Usually, she reserved the headphones for race day on the starting grid, but today, she needed it. 

Practice was smooth enough - Beth put in acceptable times, nothing remarkable, and none of her team would berate her for it. After all, qualifying was the one they needed to focus on. 

She ran over the data after her media requirement was fulfilled, giving short answers and refusing to acknowledge the situation with her mother. When she returned to her room, she changed quickly, needing out of the constriction of her race suit, even if it was only for an hour. She texted Lando, thanking him for his support, when her team had just stood there, and he replied instantly. 

Lando Norris:

I can’t believe she did that again mate

I’m always going to have your back

Bethany Sanderson:

Thank you again. She’s always been a little crazy but today was insanity. I’ll see you in a bit at media?

Lando Norris:

Of course - you want backup on your way back to the hotel, incase she’s waiting?

Bethany Sanderson:

I’ve got my security upped, and Lewis is at the same hotel too, but I appreciate the offer

Lando Norris:

Anytime x

Her phone rang, flashing Carlos’ name. Beth stared at it for a moment, as she decided if she could face speaking. 

“Hola,” she answered. “Cómo estás?”

“Beth, what happened before practice, your mother?” Carlos asked, and Beth knew Charles had to be there with him. 

“Tell me I’m not on speakerphone in the garage, Carlos?” she hissed. 

“We’re alone,” Charles assured her, his voice soft. “Please, baby, what happened?”

“My mother’s all kinds of fucked up, I hit my head but I was cleared by a medic before driving,” she assured them, standing up and pacing around her small room. “I’m fine, I promise.” 

There was a silence at the other end of the line, and Beth could practically see them silently communicating. 

“Can we see you tonight?” Charles was never very good at hiding his emotions, even over the phone. 

“Beth,” Carlos said, as the pause stretched out. “Maybe we just watch a film or something. Just hang out?”

“Okay,” she replied in a small voice. “I should go, I’ve got a meeting.” 

“Vale, adiós, cariña.”

“Bye, cherié.”

As Beth hung up the phone, she wondered if she was already taking this way too far. The pet names and the constant need from both of them to be together - maybe some distance was needed. 

She milled around for the next hour, looking at the data and the replays, watching the other driver’s lines around corners, trying her best to distract her mind and think about only racing. 

“Back in your racesuit, come on,” Annabelle said, clapping Beth on the shoulder. “One more interview before we start qualifying, okay?”

Beth sighed, nodding, and as she was heading back to her room to change, she glanced around, looking for Lewis. He met her eyes across the garage, and raised one brow, in silent question as he continued to chat to Toto. She forced a smile, and turned away. Another attachment, another driver she was too close too. 

***

As qualifying began, Beth put everything into racing. To pulling the most from the car, and tunnelling all her focus into driving. Her style was aggressive, much more so than usual. 

As she pulled back into the garage at the end of Q2, she didn’t get out the car. Her time, leaving her second in the rankings, was more than enough for Q3, but Lewis’ time was better than hers. Beth watched some replays on her screen, ran over her corners, finding the ones she could improve on. 

She was first out on track as soon as Q3 began, Michael correctly reading the anxiety in her actions as a need to get a time on the board. 

“There’s no traffic, you’re out alone,” Michael told her, and Beth barely heard him. She was so deep into focusing on the track. 

“No talking on the flying,” she said, and then crossed the line, beginning her fast lap. Michael watched through the screens, eyes flying over data as she completed her lap. It was perfect, he realised, in every sense. She was on the driver’s line, hitting each corner at absolutely the maximum speed she could without compromising her position. Purple sectors flashed up on all the screens in the garage, and as she crossed the line, the final sector lit up. Her lap time flashed on the screen, and the garage silenced for a few long moments. Then, it erupted into cheers. 

“Beth, that’s a new record on this track. It’s a 1.01.3. That’s amazing!”

Beth grinned under her helmet as she slowed, replying, “Thanks Michael, I’m coming in, okay?”

“Yes, box box confirm,” Michael replied, and she could practically hear his smile. She was pulled back into the garage, and watched on her screens as the other drivers did their laps, all of them unable to beat her time. 

“Are we going again?” Beth asked, and Michael shook his head. 

“We don’t need to - closest time is over a second off. Verstappen was the closest and had his lap time deleted.”

“Are you sure? Shouldn’t we do another, just in case?”

Michael met her eyes. “Yeah, we technically can, but there’s a lot of traffic out there, you probably won’t improve that lap.”

“I want to,” she replied. “Better to try than to sit here waiting for someone to out-do me.”

“Okay,” he acquiesced, and headed back to his station. Someone removed the screens, and they waited, finding the best gap to let her out again. As she went out onto the track, and warmed her tyres on the outlap, she understood what Michael had meant. All nine of the other cars were on track, and not everyone was playing nice. She supposed she might have set a high bar with a record lap time. 

“Lets push like hell, Beth,” Michael said, as she crossed the line, beginning her fast lap. 

And she did, and other drivers were sticking to the rules, getting out the way. 

Michael watched, tense, as she hit the sector one mark, and the screen in the garage flashed purple. She’d shaved two hundredths off her time. And then sector two, hit purple, five thousandths quicker. He tapped his foot incessantly, as he watched, as Beth was on track to break the record again. To beat her almost unbeatable time. 

Suddenly, his ears were filled with rapid, angry Spanish. On the screen, Beth’s car swerved off her line, narrowly avoiding the erratic movements of Sainz’s Ferrari. That had cost her, he knew it and she did too. But she still pushed through the lap, crossing the line with a yellow sector 3. 

“Your first time is still P1,” Michael said, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible. “Only Gasly left to cross the line, and he’s yellow sector 2.”

“Okay, well, that’s good,” she replied, anger still coursing through her mind, and her voice, but Michael was glad she’d switched back to English. She pulled her car into pole position in the pit lane.

Qualifying: Beth Sanderson P1, Carlos Sainz P3, Charles LeClerc P4, Lewis Hamilton P2

“That was amazing! They’re dubbing it the perfect lap,” one reporter said to her as she signed the tyre award for pole position.

“What was the time?” she asked, brow raised. 

“1.01.341,” he said, and Beth grinned. 

“Breaking records is fun, but I just want to win on track, be as fast as possible in the moment.”

“And you did! Best for luck for tomorrow.”

She headed through interview after interview, ignoring the questions about Mary and the scene she’d caused this morning, though most of the conversation was talking about her lap. Lewis met her back in the garage, and insisted on making she she got back safely himself. 

“Please, I’m fine. Would I have kicked your arse in qualifying if I wasn’t okay?” she teased, and Lewis flicked her forehead, one brow raised. 

“Fighting talk, huh? It’s going to be fun starting 1-2 tomorrow.”

“Let’s just not take each other out on the first corner, yeah? That would be embarrassing.”

Lewis laughed, and they sat in the office, ready for debrief. They went over all the usual, and the team were ecstatic about her new record lap time. Lewis didn’t seem to mind that the attention was on her, though she wondered if he’d considered what team orders might be given tomorrow. Whilst him and Max had been battling it out for the driver’s championship, Beth had stayed firmly in P3, and a couple of race wins would see her fighting right at the top with them. And if she couldn’t perform tomorrow, then the team would want Lewis to take that P1 spot. Could she refuse? Would they be allowed to fight properly? It was the kind of plans they mentioned but never confirmed beforehand - it was a take-it-as-it-comes kind of situation. 

They were released for the night, and Beth headed for her room, eager to change out of the fireproofs. As she was about to take off her base layer, her phone rang. Carlos. 

“Hola, qué tal?”

“Felicidades para el position uno. Casi lista para dejar el circuito?”  [congratulations on P1. Are you almost ready to leave the track?]

“Sí, solo necesito cambiar mi ropa y encontrar a Lewis, y después vamos al hotel,” she replied, pulling a shirt over her head. “Dónde está Charles?”  [I just need to change my clothes and find Lewis, and then we will go to the hotel ... where is Charles?]

“Soy aquí,” Charles’ voice joined the conversation, and Beth smiled.  [I am here]

“Nos entendiste?” she asked. [did you understand us?]

“No, he just heard his name,” Carlos teased, switching back to English, for the benefit of the Monegasque. Charles protested, laughing, and Beth couldn’t help but smile. 

“I know some words, but you talk too fast,” he said. “Beth, congratulations.”

“Thank you,” she grinned. Lewis knocked on her door and she beckoned him inside. “Want to go out to eat, the four of us?”

“Four?” Lewis asked, and Beth pointed at her phone. 

“Sounds like fun,” Charles said, and there was another aggressive knock at her door. 

“Bethany Sanderson, you are going to eat exactly what I give you, don’t forget the situation we are in right now,” Harriet shouted through the door. Beth sighed, ignoring as Charles and Carlos exploded with questions. 

“Yes, I know.”

“You cannot lose any weight, else you’ll be out of here before you can argue back. You’ve already had your last chance.” Lewis leant over to her phone, and clicked it off speaker. He said something down the line to them, but Beth wasn’t listening. 

“Thank you, Harriet,” she said, and waited, listening as her footsteps retreated. Lewis clicked the speaker button back on. 

“I’m fine, I’m on the right track in terms of fixing the problem, and under no circumstances can anyone find out about this,” she said, and waited as the silence stretched. 

“Vale, cariña. We can eat, and then come over?”

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Beth admitted. “There a race tomorrow to focus on. I think I need to be alone.” They said their goodbyes, though not without argument and the call disconnected. 

Beth turned away from Lewis, though she was very aware of his presence. She rifled through her bag, finding the clothes she’d worn this morning. He walked over, and kissed her cheek. 

“I’m going to go, alright? Please, love, look after yourself. And call me if you need anything.”

She nodded, and watched as Lewis left her room, slipping his earphones on and turning down the hall towards his own driver’s room. 

Beth dressed in street clothes, and met Harriet in the garage, barely acknowledging the lecture she was receiving for even thinking about breaking the diet. But, she knew Harriet was right, really. She just stayed silent, ate what she was given, and went to sleep. 

She dreamt about the three men, her three favourite people, and wondered when she woke up, about how they all got so tangled up so quickly. 

***

Red Bull Ring Grand Prix: Beth Sanderson P2, Carlos Sainz P5, Charles Leclerc P3, Lewis Hamilton P4

Sharing the podium with Charles and Max was special, even if she wished she’s managed to catch up to Max. She just needed a couple more laps, and it would have been a fight for the win, but the car didn’t have the speed she needed to catch up after the pit stop. But P2 wasn’t enough now. She was in a race-winning car, and all that was holding her back was herself. Her weight, her training. 

She knew she had the talent. That was proven through her F2 and F3 victories and championships. She just needed to focus on her training and keeping her body fit for the job, and then, she knew, there would be a win coming soon. 

***