Can't Shake the Cold

(A Cars 3 based fic)

(I wrote this back in February and thought it deserved proper upload. I haven't written fic in years, but I've always loved cars. Let me know what you think- just remember, this is pure speculation and fun.)

Thomasville. The woods on the outskirts of town. A rainy winter afternoon. Lightning McQueen can see puffs of his own breath as he sits under a sheet metal lean-to, engine off, quietly. He is alone, halfway up the hill to the old speedway where Smokey is waiting to meet him. Doesn't particularly matter now, because of the-

"Lightning! Kid, are you in there?" Mack's grille appears in Lightning's field of view outside the lean-to. "Cruz, I found 'im! Jesus Chrysler kid, do you gotta do this every time it rains?" Lightning scowls as a yellow coupe drives up next to Mack.

"What does the rain have to do with it?" Cruz Ramirez asks the big rig, then turns to look into the low-roofed spot Lightning has crawled into. "Mr. McQueen, we've got to get to the speedway soon. We're already late, and Smokey is a cranky old man. Let's go!" She encourages. Lightning glares at her, silent and pouting.

After a few moments of unproductive staring, Mack breaks the tense silence. "If Mater were here, he'd just tow 'im out." He tells Cruz and sighs. "He's not gonna come out. I can't grab 'im. Can you squeeze in there?"

Cruz thinks for a beat, then says, "I can't grab him, he's stronger than me. Why won't he just come out here?"

Mack tries again and pleads to Lightning, "C'mon, bucko!" In response, Lightning looks away, face set in a petulant scowl.

"Why doesn't he like the rain?" Cruz asks again.

"Ehh, he's afraid of gettin' rusty. Old habits I guess."

For a moment, Cruz looks like she might bust out laughing before she catches herself. Under the sheet-metal, Lightning sends a hilariously offended look towards Mack. Mack continues, oblivious, "Yeah, it doesn't really rain much back home in Radiator Springs, so we don't usually have to worry about him doin' this kinda thing."

"Well how are we going to get him out of there if he's just ignoring us?" Cruz says.

Mack chuckles as he remembers something and replies, "Well, we can try reverse-psychology. That usually works pretty well."

"Hey!" Lightning barks.

Cruz turns to look back into the depth of the lean-to, putting an inquisitive expression on for Lightning (but ignores his outburst), "…I never thought he'd be a reverse-psychology kinda guy…" she tells Mack. "Who figured that one out?" She smiles, amused again.

"Oh, Mater did. That tow truck's had him all figured it from the start. And Doc, of course. Never took a lick of shit from Lightning. An' me too, if I say so myself."

As if he were summoned at the mention of Doc, Smokey appears, driving down the hill towards them. He must have grown impatient waiting. The rusty orange Hudson pickup overhears Mack talking. He stops next to Cruz, blocking the last bit of exit to Lightning's lean-to hideaway. He glances in at Lightning, and says, "I don't know how he put up with you at all. Yer impossible. C'mon out, a 'lil rain won't hurtcha, Rusteze-Boy." Smokey turns back up the hill. "You've survived worse."

Lightning, out of excuses and drawn irresistibly to Smokey's passive-aggressive manner, drives from under the roof, grumbling. "Who says Doc and I got along? We fought all the time. He was an ornery old racecar."

Cruz, feeling brave, responds, "Yeah, that's what you'll be if you don't get your bumper up to that speedway, Mister."

He just rolls his eyes at her, too chilly and mildly embarrassed to argue further.

They head up the hill together.