"Where's Rex?"

In the hanger, Six was the only one exiting off the gunship. Hands in his pockets, he headed towards her in his casual, calculated stride and replied in the same manner.

"He's on a road trip with Noah and Bobo."

Holiday smirked at the fact that Six no longer hassled keeping a tight leash on his ward, not that she minded.

Rex needed his own downtime; he was getting older. He needed to experience the world, outside of white walls and armed escorts. Even though the twinge of overprotection pinched her heart, she wanted him to. There really was no reason she should worry either. Noah was not one to intentionally look for trouble and Bobo would watch over both boys; in his own aberrant way.

"So, no dinner tonight?"

Six shook his head once.

Well, her Friday evening just got cleared.

She was disappointed; the faux-family dinners were becoming less obligation and more indulgence. They were a nice way to relieve the stress of the week, and this week had her on her knees since Tuesday. A break was long overdue.

She accepted the change of plans with an understanding nod, but he was not fooled by the dismayed cluck of her tongue.

He seemed pensive of the action and stared at her shoes as he considered something. He returned his gaze to hers and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

"You hungry?" he asked, eyebrows inquisitively heightened.

Holiday crinkled her nose slightly and waved off his concern.

"Don't worry about it. I'll just grab something from the cafeteria."

"What are you in the mood for?"

She raised her eyebrows at his question and subsequent tilt of his head.

Did Six indirectly offer dinner without persuasion? He was not obligated to feed her, or anything else for that matter. Holiday studied him, though she knew her scrutiny of the rigid man would yield unfavorable results. Years of joint guardianship over Rex with him created a familiarity with his subtle personality, and as time went on, she learned, he broadened his emotional range.

Like now.

His mouth pursed slightly in anticipation of her answer. Together with his tilted head, he mirrored Rex's usual inquisitive expression.

Or, Holiday began to wonder, did Rex mirror him?

Interesting...she'd have to remember to study that later. For now, at least, she answered him through a growing grin.

"Hombre's."

The plan had been Mexican tonight anyway.

A loose smile spread on Six's lips and he nodded in agreement at her choice. "Ok. Are you ready?"

She glanced down at her attire. Wrinkled, disheveled, and worn, she looked how she felt, and she did not want to step into a lively border town looking as such.

"Can I change? I am not walking into Conchita looking like I spent all day in a lab."

Six nodded, whether or not he realized he truly had a say in the matter. He could wear that green suit out camping for all she cared, but she was not spending another minute in this lab coat.

"Five minutes," she declared to his retreating back.

The run back to her quarters was probably the fastest she ever made. It could have been exaggeration or enthusiasm. Probably both, but she dared to acknowledge that the secret thought of spending casual time with him added more spring to her step.

Holiday wasted no time replacing her professional apparel for something much more casual, leaving a trail of clothes from the door to her closet, where she pulled out a canary sundress collecting dust at the very end of the rack.

It had caught her eye several months ago in New York when she'd somehow squeezed downtime in the middle of a mission, but the tides had turned on her and there had never been any time or occasion to wear it since then. Until now.

She grinned as she put it on, enjoying the lively material loosely hugging her frame. Grabbing a cream colored cardigan to cover her bare shoulders, she plunged a pair of sunglasses into its pockets and simultaneously slipped on a pair of boots that topped her ankles as she headed out the door.

When she returned to the hanger, Holiday found Six leaning against the cherry-red body of the roadster instead of the jumpjet, and she stopped mid-stride as she took in the sight. They were travelling in that?

Six followed her gaze and stared at the hot rod, looking perhaps more annoyed than proud of the vehicle, then back at her.

He frowned, a confused expression appearing briefly on his features. "Is there a problem?"

She shook her head, failing to conceal a broad grin as she walked around to the passenger side. Oh no. No problem at all. Ever since he'd driven it into Providence's hanger after that failed unstable nanite assignment, she wanted to ride in it. Weeks had flown by, but he never even mentioned he had it.

Why now? she wondered.

She hoisted herself up with her arms and slid into the bucket seat as Six did the same.

"You remember the way, right?" she asked him. Since they were traveling by land, she calculated the route to Conchita would take them an hour or so.

He nodded as he started up the roadster. In the seat, Holiday felt the jarring shudder course through her body and settle in her belly as the engine's roar reverberated in the base's cavernous main hanger. Every agent, scientist, technician, and mechanic in it tossed an approved glance in their direction as Six pumped the accelerator. Once, twice, three times, for good measure. By the fifth rev, a smirk started to tug at the corner of her mouth.

Was Six actually flaunting his new ride?

The behavior was not indicative to him. From the unshaded corners of her sunglasses, she examined him with slight incredulity. With his abilities, prowess, and skills, he had never once showed the slightest hint of arrogance or cockiness and she searched for it on his face. But even as she did so and found only his modest and reserved expression, Six slammed the gear shift into first and gunned the engines. The roadster's deep rumble rose to a whiny pitch as they accelerated from zero to sixty miles per hour in less than three seconds, and Holiday was blasted back into her seat as they shot out the hanger's mouth and into the desert.

It was exhilarating. One hundred magnificent times better than she imagined.

She couldn't have fully envisioned the grandiose scale of nature whipping past them or generated the pure thrill of travelling at such high speeds mixed with the tiny fear that hitched in her throat at the danger of it all. She shivered, flattening her palms over her knees and gripped them. There was something visceral about it all, something about the engine's violent pulse that stirred primitive urges in her.

All her thoughts narrowed to this moment. No projects, no research, no reports. She was here, mentally, physically, enjoying everything as it came by.

They soon left the shadow of the high mountains surrounding the base, and the sun bore down unhindered on them from the mid-horizon. Holiday didn't mind it at all, welcoming the natural light after all her time bleaching under her lab's artificial ones.

For a while, they stayed on the lonely two-laned road of Route 79, and her excitement calmed as Six maintained the roadster at a steady speed. She finally glanced away from the valley's expanse and rested her elbow on the door, silently observing him.

As with anything he did, he drove with the utmost concentration. Jaw set and eyes straight ahead, Six remained his usual stoic self, but Holiday was determined to find an explanation to his sudden change in behavior, even if it was hidden in the subtle way he handled the car.

Yes, the roadster was the key, she was beginning to learn.

Why had he kept it? And why had he brought her along for a ride?

Holiday suspected there was an underlying reason to it all, but an obnoxious horn put her musings on hold as another vehicle travelled in the oncoming lane and came up beside theirs. The couple riding in the green souped-up hot rod gestured to them.

With a smile, Holiday waved at the bubbly blonde in the passenger seat as the man eagerly pounded out a series of honks from the steering wheel and pumped the gas, edging their car forward repeatedly to signify his intent to race.

She leaned forward slightly in her seat in anticipation, an equally contesting grin plastering her face.

This outing was getting better every second. Already, her excitement was returning and a competitive rush was coursing through her. She knew she didn't look the type, but she was extremely competitive. In her field of work, she had to be, and she always had an urge to triumph whatever challenge was thrown at her. Even if she wasn't at the wheel, she was confident Six could beat this young couple who unfortunately did not know who they were dealing with.

Holiday looked to him now, hoping to gauge his response, but he remained rigid in the driver's seat, tie lapping over his shoulder, seemingly oblivious to the challenge. She nearly despaired at the sight. Did he not ever let loose? Why bother having this car at all if he did nothing with it?

And then, in the midst of her silent criticism, Six shifted into fourth gear, rocketing the roadster forward, and she saw a smirk tug at the corner of his lips.

:::

The roadster responded obediently to his commands, increasing its speed along the road as he pushed the transmission up a notch.

Any other day, he would have ignored the puerile contest, especially since he would already know the outcome, but he would entertain the brash young man today, if only for his passenger.

Oh yes. Her expression had not gone unnoticed. He had seen the glint in her eyes.

She wanted to win, and she knew that he would. If he decided to do it.

As the needle on the speedometer reared up past ninety, he knew it was her smile that had made the decision for him.

He smiled too, a gentle tug that quirked his mouth as they jolted ahead of the green hot rod, and Holiday couldn't resist a delighted laugh once she realized what he was doing.

Their lead was short-lived as the other vehicle reacted quickly enough and soon caught up to them again. Not bothering to glance at his new opponent, Six pressed the gas, keeping his eye on the approaching car in the oncoming lane. It was nearing rapidly, bulleting straight for the opposing couple who continued to test its approach. Instead of backing down like he was forcing them to, the couple sped up even further down the road and veered back into their lane in the nick of time, cutting them off.

Six smirked as he stared at the back end of the green roadster and shook his head.

Interesting. He did not expect such a daring competitor, not from this casual citizen at least. He wondered how far the young man would go. With an ego, a ride, and a young woman to impress, perhaps all the way.

In his peripheral, Holiday pursed her lips at the couple in front of them, unhappy with the turn of events. He didn't waste time for her arched eyebrow directed him, because the car in the oncoming lane just passed, and as soon as it cleared, he drifted across the yellow centerline into it.

He boosted to overtake their opposition again, but as he neared the other car, the sandy-haired man pulled the same maneuver on him and matched their speed to block him.

Damn. Six looked ahead to the other cars in the distance, a grey sedan in front of the green hot rod and red coupe coming up fast in the oncoming lane. He tried to speed up again to get back in the lane, but was blocked again as the competing hot rod pushed forward to close the gap between it and the sedan. Downshifting, he grimaced and reluctantly veered back behind them to avoid the coupe.

The narrow road was becoming much more worn and broken as they hurtled down it and the patter of loose chippings hitting the windshield after being tossed up by the vehicles in front of them was grating and derisive. He gritted his teeth. They had to get out of the turbulent wake.

He jammed the gear stick back and loomed in closer to the hot rod in front of them, gaining on them until only a hairsbreadth separated their bumpers; he was going to slipstream. He kept his eye on the needle as it rose again, preparing to pass his opponent the moment the coupe cleared. When it zoomed past them in the opposite direction, he crossed lanes once more, only to be cut off a third time by the green hot rod. They were stuck behind the silver sedan, boxed in by their opponent now with the full intent to prove that his gritty racer made of reshaped steel was superior to their fiberglass love child of a show car and souped-up dragster.

"C'mon, Six!" There was a competitive edge in her voice now, and he thought he detected a hint of some desperation as well. She needed to win. He could see it in the way she bit down on her lower lip, in the way she braced herself on the dashboard and tapped her knee impatiently.

The green roadster sped up and pulled ahead of the sedan and Six used the opportunity to veer back into the oncoming lane and do the same, forcing their opponent to go into the defensive. The young couple zoomed ahead, determined to block them out.

Six took the blatant challenge. The terrain was flat and visibility on that desert highway stretched for miles. He could see the trio of trucks in a line coming up in front of the green hot rod, and the eighteen-wheeler coming down beyond them. If they were to win this contest, they had to get back in front of their opponent before they reached the trucks and before the eighteen-wheeler reached them.

All it took was a moment for him to lay out all his options and make a final winning solution. His ability to make quick assessments was far more skilled than their opponent's, of that he was quite certain. He took their position, the quickly closing distance of the semi barreling towards them, the conditions of the road, and even Holiday's unspoken confidence in him into consideration. All of them came down to one thing.

Speed.

And with that settled in his mind, Six enthusiastically jammed the gear stick back into fourth and entered into a flat out drag as he pushed the roadster to its very limit. As expected, the young man in the green hot rod reacted slowly to his unexpected action and followed suit, continuing to keep them from gaining.

He paid no attention anymore to the other vehicle's attempts at dominance and focused only on the road ahead. The green hot rod reached the line of trucks, and when he continued past them Holiday began to understand his decision, uncertainty unhidden in her voice.

"Six?"

He glanced at her fleetingly as she peered at the truck looming ahead, catching even the young couple's fearful expressions of his potentially fatal decision.

He clenched his jaw, announcing over the wind, "Hang on."

Six gunned the engine, feeling the massive roar ripple through the roadster as the pedal hit the floor. His hands were steady on the wheel even as the car shook from the sheer velocity, confident this souped-up, frankenstein of a vehicle would hold together. It was made for this.

Or was it?

His lip twitched at the deadly notion. What if he had miscalculated? The eighteen-wheeler drew closer with each passing second and they were only midway past the second truck. A miscalculation would mean death. Six cleared his head of the thought. It was too late for that now. He had to focus and hone in on the moment because their fate now lay on the razor's edge of his reflexes and the four seconds until impact.

One second passed.

They were at the back end of the first semi now. The driver of the eighteen-wheeler approaching wailed his horn.

Two seconds.

He could read the "Mack" on the front of the eighteen-wheeler now. Holiday braced herself with a hand on the dashboard.

Three seconds.

Adrenaline coursed through him, drowning out the truck's blaring klaxon and Holiday's fearful shout of his name, but in the silence, he jerked the steering wheel to the left and brought the cherry-red roadster back into the safety of normal traffic.

Six released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. For a few seconds afterward, they continued down Route 79 and neither of them spoke. He returned to their speed to a much safer rate and glanced again at his passenger. She was still rigid in her seat even as the color returned to her face. He felt a pang of regret when he saw her hand in a vice as she gripped the chair, knuckles whitened from the intensity of it. He hadn't intended to frighten her.

He touched her arm in apology. "You okay?" he asked gently.

Holiday laughed and tucked loose strands of her dark hair behind her ear. "I'm great." She laughed again, and this time it didn't sound as forced. "That was great."

Still, he stared at her skeptically, eyebrows raised and furrowed in concern, and she turned away from him and looked to the distant mountains. After a moment, she relaxed in the bucket seat and dropped her shoulders as she let loose an exhale. She looked at him then, holding his gaze with her piercing and vibrant eyes briefly before tilting her head back even further for another gleeful laugh.

"I'm fine, Six. This is one fine ride you have," she told him, patting the side of the door.

Indeed it was. Six chose to ignore her change of subject and agree with her. This was a fine ride. It was apparent in every single one of its features, from the immaculate paintjob to the custom motifs etched into the dashboard. Someone had loved this car. Not the bandit who had commandeered it, but the genius who had painstakingly crafted and modified every intake valve and cylinder. Six could see and appreciate the intrinsic beauty of it.

It sounded strange, the idea of him being keen to the simplicity of life when only focused on the importance of it, but he understood beauty when he saw it.

Or did he? he mused.

He glanced at Holiday from the open corner of his glasses, smiling at something only she could see as the wind gusted her hair back. He could also agree there were much more beautiful things than cars.

Quite suddenly though, she straightened up from the door she rested her elbow upon and frowned at the upcoming road sign announcing the junction of Route 79 to Interstate 10.

"I think we're lost."

He looked at the road sign as well, unfamiliar with it in regards to getting to Conchita.

He licked his lips. "We're not."

Ignoring his assurance, she turned in her chair, shielding her eyes from the sun to peer into the distance behind them. "We were supposed to take a turn at Piedra Roja. I think we missed it."

Six knew he'd missed the turn, and he stayed wisely silent to her inquiring expression.

Holiday shook her head in disbelief. "This isn't one of those 'Men don't get lost' things is it?"

He thinned his lips at her insinuation to keep from correcting her. Men didn't get lost. They went exploring.

Clutching her temple, she sighed impatiently. "Just stop at that gas station coming up."

They veered off the main road and travelled down a thinner gravel-covered one to the gas station. It was a small, aged building nestled amongst some hills that shielded it from the afternoon sun. There were only four old pumps that saw considerably less use, ignored in favor of the newer brand-name gas companies partnered with franchised restaurants on the I-10.

Six parked near the wooden and tin building where an elderly Hispanic man who smiled politely at them sat on a bench in front of it. He looked at Holiday and she sighed.

"I'll ask him," she said, giving him a generous view of her long, slender legs as she hoisted herself out of the car.

Unknowingly, he trailed them as she walked away, only to guiltily snap his eyes back to hers when she turned around and leaned over the door.

Her eyebrow raised slightly and a smirk played across her lips when she pointed a finger at him. "But I'm still waiting for you to admit that we're lost."

A/n:

Mwuahahaha

Why is Six taking Holi on a spontaneous joyride? Or is it really spontaneous?

Will they ever reach Conchita in time for dinner?

Will Six admit that they're lost?

Find out next chapter!