“Blessed Rain”

By Kellyanne Lynch

7 April 2002, 3:15 – 5:40 PM

Beta Reader: My crew chief, Christy Gordon. [Of COURSE I gotta answer to my boss!!! ; ) ]

Disclaimer: This has been an official presentation of… whoops, wrong disclaimer! Again, I do not know Michael and Buffy Waltrip, nor do I know Kenny Wallace. I don’t know anyone or anything mentioned in this fic, except for the refreshing taste of a cold Budweiser, [odd trivia fact #3398342: having a cold Bud on-hand for the rained-out race today actually inspired the middle of this fic]. I am not being paid to endorse Budweiser; I’m just in a weird mood and am doing so anyway. This story is not true, just something I made up on the fly. Based VERY loosely on what happened today at Texas Motor Speedway.

Summary: A NASCAR fic about Michael Waltrip wanting something to do during the rain delay at Texas Motor Speedway on Sunday

Author’s Note: We interrupt your regularly scheduled story to shamelessly plug other NASCAR fics. Please, if you haven’t been watching the sports section on fanfiction.net too closely, check out my profile and see if you’ve read everything I’ve put up lately. Cause I’ve just been on fire with these fics.

Dedication: To my fellow crew members. And, yes, I have claimed the position of gas girl. If anybody has any disputes, please email me. I will promptly flame any and all stories that you’ve written on fanfiction.net. Of course you know I’m kidding! Hey, I’m willing to share, as long as I get to be the MAIN gas girl! Now I’m just making up stuff.

Rating: PG

* Please e-mail matchbox20orbusted@yahoo.com with questions, comments, theories, complaints, or words of wisdom.

---------------------------------------------------

Icy blades of rain sliced through the fog at Texas Motor Speedway, the only thing penetrating its tyranny over the racetrack. Folks scurried about the grounds of the drivers’ motor court, arrayed in various coloured garbage bags. Some were clutching family sized umbrellas. Michael Waltrip stared after their shadows through a window inside his motor coach, where he sat on his sofa, chin planted in the palm of his hand.

“Man,” he mumbled, scowling at the sheets of water that poured down his window. “I hate rain delays!”

“Why don’t you find something to do?” a voice called from another room. “Maybe watch golf or something.”

Michael wagged his head. Turning toward the doorway, he replied, “Aw, Buffy, I was watching golf all morning, and even that’s lost its charm!” He laid his forearms across his thighs. “Hey, honey, whatcha doing back there?”

Buffy walked through the doorway. Leaning against it, she crossed her arms. “Just reading.” She sighed and raised her eyebrows. “You know, I’m just as bored as you are. I was wanting to see you win today.”

Michael cracked a smile. “Well, I just wanted to race today!” They gazed into one another’s eyes for a moment. Then Michael patted the cushion next to him. Buffy crossed the room and eased onto the sofa beside her husband.

“So where are the kids?” Michael asked. “Still over at Sadler’s coach?”

Buffy nodded. Scratching the base of her skull, she replied, “Yeah. I think they’re fixing to play video games with Elliott and his friends all afternoon. Or at least watch.”

Curling a corner of his lips, Michael shrugged. “Well, at least someone’s enjoying the rain delay!”

A rapping came from the front door. “Hey, Mikey!” a voice cried. “Let me in! It’s raining oceans out here!”

Michael glanced at his wife. “I don’t know. Should we?”

Eying Michael, Buffy wagged her head and chuckled. “It’s open, Kenny!” she called over her shoulder, in the direction of the door. Michael scrunched up his nose.

“Aw, man!” he slapped a hand into his lap. Shaking his head, he added, “I knew I shoulda locked that thing!”

The door clicked, then swung open. Buffy and Michael turned as Kenny Wallace sauntered into the living room area, toting a case of Budweiser. “Hey!” Kenny exclaimed, a huge smile plastered across his face.

Michael narrowed his eyes at his guest. “Are your shoes off?”

“Course they are!” Kenny laughed, raising a red-socked foot. Michael had to lean back to avoid getting kicked in the nose. “I left ‘em over by the door! Hey!” he rushed onward. “Did you hear what Harvick did to DW’s trailer?”

Michael frowned at his friend. Wagging his index finger, he said, “Now that’s not something to laugh about. DW deserves more respect than to have his motor coach toilet papered. Kevin ought to be ashamed of himself.”

“Aw, lighten up, Mikey! Can’t the young guns have a little fun?”

“Not at a legend’s expense!”

Kenny set down the case of Bud on the coffee table and plopped into a recliner perpendicular to the Waltrips.

“Speaking of brothers…” Buffy nodded toward the beers and looked to Kenny. “What’s your brother going to say when he sees you with those?”

“What?” Kenny’s eyes bulged. He squeezed the arms of the recliner before raising a hand to the six-pack. “Junior just gave it to me! Am I supposed to turn down free beer?”

Michael’s eyes widened. “He just gave it to you?”

“Yeah!” Kenny rubbed the back of his neck. “I came by his coach to see what he was up to. We hung around a bit, he was in a good mood, so he’s just like, ‘Here! Take it!’ You know, I like that boy!”

Michael grimaced. “He never gives ME any free beer,” he muttered, wiping his forearm under his nose. “And I’m his teammate!”

“So am I!” Kenny retorted, then gave Michael a side-ways smile. “Well, sort of. But hey!” He butted his head toward the table. “I brought those beers over for you! That way, Rusty won’t catch it in my trailer. So there ya go! Free beer!”

Michael glanced at Buffy, a smile sweeping his lips. He leaned over his legs and grabbed a bottle of Budweiser. “Why, thanks, Kenny!” Pressing the edge of the cap into the table, Michael slapped down and pulled the bottle away. The cap rocketed halfway to the ceiling before falling to the floor. Michael passed the bottle to his wife.

Buffy smiled. “Thank you, sweetie!”

“Sure thing, darling!” he replied as he reached for another beer. He popped the cap and took a swig. Over the bottle, he caught Kenny watching him. The Busch Series driver licked his lips.

“Um, Mikey?” he raised his eyebrows. “You were planning to share, weren’t you?”

Michael stared at Kenny for several seconds, then shrugged and raised a hand toward the beers. “Yeah, I guess you can have one.”

Grinning, Kenny lunged forward. He snatched a bottle and fell back into his chair.

“So, Kenny,” Michael furrowed his brow, and scrunched up his nose. “Why are you hanging around the track if you don’t have to?”

Kenny popped the cap off his Budweiser and took a swig. Lowering the bottle from his lips, he said, “Why WOULDN’T I hang around? Rain delays are fun!”

Buffy started coughing on her last swig. Bolting upright, Michael rubbed her back and looked to Kenny. “You have got to be kidding!”

“No! Course not! What better time to go socialising with all my buddies?” Kenny beamed at Michael. “Hello, buddy!”

Michael laughed. He leaned forward and set his beer on the table.

“Coaster!” Buffy exclaimed. Michael snatched up the beer and slid a crocheted, powder blue circle beneath the bottle.

“Sorry, honey.”

“It’s okay.”

Kenny smiled at the pair. “See why I like coming over here now?”

Shaking his head, Michael chuckled. “You know, you are a funny man, my friend!”

“I hang around with you too much,” Kenny replied, sipping his beer. “That’s my problem! So what do you two have planned for today?” he laid over his legs.

Buffy and Michael exchanged glances. “Well I WAS planning on racing!” Michael replied.

“Didn’t you hear yet? The race is cancelled! Postponed ‘til tomorrow! Man, you’re in the boonies of the motor court!”

“Cancelled?” Buffy asked.

“Yeah!” Kenny stared out the window and beamed at the streams of water assaulting the asphalt. “Ain’t the rain a blessing? Makes you realise who’s REALLY in charge of race day!”

“And you get to play,” Michael mumbled, shaking his head with a smile.

“Yeah, and we get to play! Who’s up for bowling?”

THE END

---------------------------------------------------

A/N: I know this is seemingly a pointless story, but there really was a point. First off, I was bummed there wasn’t a race today. Second, my parents spent the afternoon yelling at each other. So writing this was my way of preoccupying myself with something that made me smile. This was easy to write, and fun too! Hope y’all enjoy it as well!

- dj