Work Text:
His Man
by Pirate Turner
He was racing through town when the nails struck him and sent him spinning. "Ouch! Ow! Ouch! OW!" Lightning cried as he flew across Main Street like a blur of a red top. He finally managed to stop just before he hit something, and the laughter he heard made his shiny new coat seem a shade redder.
Mater had been calling after Lightning, terror in his windshield, when the laughter struck his ears. He backed up until he was side by side with the offensive purple car. "Ya put those nails there, Ramone?" he demanded, glowering down at him.
"'Course not, Mater! I can't help it that the look on his face was funny!"
"Was not!"
"Was too!"
"Was not!"
"Was too!"
"I ain't got time for you. I gotta go see 'bout Lightning, but you better be glad you didn't put those nails there 'cause I would've rode all over you and made you wish you'd never been made!"
"Senor, that is something that will never happen," Ramone shot back with an enthusiastic roar of his engine. His life was good, and he wasn't about to let any one mess it up.
Mater ignored Ramone as he sped on to Lightning. "Oh, buddy, you okay?!" he cried.
"Yeah," Lightning managed slowly, sorely picking up first one tire and then another. "But my tires aren't! Where are Luigi and Guido?"
"I think they're already down there at the fireworks show. You know those things sure are sparkly -- "
"I know," Lightning spoke resignedly. "I was heading there when I got into those darn nails. When I find out who put them there -- !"
"Ramone didn't do it. I already found that out, but we'll find out who did do it too and I'll beat him fer ya."
Lightning looked at Mater in surprise. He'd never heard the truck talk about beating up anybody before. "You don't have to do that -- "
"I do too, and I'm gonna do it! They ain't getting away with hurting my man!"
"Your man?" Lightning repeated in increased surprise. "When did I become your man, Mater?"
Mater looked down at the street, up at the sky, around at the buildings and the other vehicles who were all passing them on their way to the Fourth of July celebration, anywhere but at Lightning, and so he missed the shiny smile that lit up the race car's hood. "Well," he paused, running a tire over the pavement as he pondered how best to answer the question that had both surprised and hurt him, "aren't you?"
"Of course I am, Mater," Lightning assured softly, the covers of his headlights lowering partially. "I didn't mean to upset you." He inched forward, swearing silently at the pain that filled his tires, and gently pressed his front bumper to Mater's. "I am your man, just like you're my man."
Mater blushed. "Aw, shucks!"
Lightning pressed gently against him, then forced himself to pull away. "You better go on. You'll miss the fireworks."
"Nah," he replied, turning to look at him. "The view's way better here." He grinned. They shared a smile, a laugh, a kiss, and a silent promise to find the nailer, and Lightning wished, all the while, that he hadn't run over those dreaded nails not so much so that he could have seen the fireworks but rather so that he could have taken Mater to their shared cone and proved to him, once and for all, that he was glad and, yes, perhaps even proud to have him as his man and to be his man.
The End