Swerve | 𝑷.𝑮.

Part 1

"YOU FRENCH BAGUETTE! SHUT UP!" She shouts back.

Max tackled the two phones out of Francesca's hands and handed them back to their owners, sharing a look with Charles as they were forced to listen to the bickering of Pierre and Francesca in French - Charles was suffering slightly more considering he was fluent in the language.

It was minutes later that Charles was laughing and Francesca was biting her lip to hide her laughter whilst Pierre glared at her. Max and Daniel glanced to each other before turning to Charles and nudging him harshly in the ribs to get his attention, the Monegasque stopped laughing and turned to glare at them both whilst rubbing his side.

"What was that for!?" He asks loudly.

"There are two people here who don't understand French." Daniel says.

"And you decided elbowing me with your pointy arse elbows was the best way to get my attention!?"

"Well you wouldn't reply to your name!" Max defends. "Why are you laughing anyways?"

"She just called Pierre a string bean." Charles mutters, laughing again.

Daniel snorted and Max just shook his head.

"I AM NOT A STRING BEAN!" Pierre shouts.

"YES YOU ARE!" Francesca says back.

"I'M GOING TO CALL RICHARD, CELINE!" Pierre says.

"And that's my cue to leave, bye!"

Francesca rushed back off into the crowds surrounding the paddock, this left Pierre groaning, shouting a few swear words in French and darting off in the direction she'd rushed off in.

"I will never get sick of those two." Daniel says, wiping his tears away.

"They are rather entertaining." Charles adds.

"ENTERTAINING!?" Max gasps. "NO THEIR JUST CHILDISH!"

The poor fans who were dotting the paddock for the Bahrain Grand Prix were left very confused when they noticed the two drivers sprinting after each other through the crowds of people. Their chase did eventually come to a stop when Pierre managed to snag his arm around Francesca's waist once she couldn't get through a rather big group of people.

The Frenchman lifted the British woman into the air and pulled her into a clearing next to the Aston Martin motorhome. He spun her around, gripping her shoulders firmly. Francesca had to tilt her head slightly to see Pierre's face and she couldn't help but snort at the state of him.

He was sweating slightly from having to run around in the mild heat of Bahrain, parts of his hair were stuck to his forehead and his cheeks were red from all the running. He did not look at all happy with the woman stuck in front of him and his eyes only narrowed at her when she snorted and slapped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing even more.

"Celine." Pierre says sternly.

"Yes Pierre." Francesca replies, dropping her hand from her mouth.

"Don't look at me like that!" He gasps.

"Like what?" She asks, innocent smile on her face.

"Like that!" He throws a hand up to gesture to her face.

"Why?" Francesca tilts her head, a teasing grin on her lips. "Do I make you feel things, Pierre?"

Pierre narrowed his eyes again as she fluttered her eyelashes slightly.

"Stop." He warns.

"Fineeeee!" She groans. "Your no fun!"

The Alpine driver rolls his eyes at her as she grins up at him.

Pierre drops his hands from her shoulders allowing Francesca to take a step back from him.

Now, the two had forgotten the garage which they were stood in front of. And along with that, they had forgotten the drivers which were apart of the team.

Fernando Alonso and Lance Stroll were watching the duo from out of the window. The former had a small smirk on his face and was leaning his head on his hand since they were sat at a table, originally enjoying their breakfast, whilst the former had turned entirely in his chair and was watching them with raised eyebrows.

"What do you think she's done this time?" Lance asks his teammate.

"No, the question is what hasn't she done." Fernando replies.

Humming, Lance glances at Fernando only to shake his head when he saw how invested the older man was in the two youngers outside.

"You love drama to much." He mutters.

"Its entertaining." Fernando shrugs. "Seb would love this."

Lance watched with raised eyebrows again as Fernando sat back in his chair and grabbed his phone from the table. There was no doubt that the Spaniard was messaging the now retired German, Lance had been Sebastian Vettel's teammate for two years previously and had heard all about how Fernando and him tended to message about the possible relationships between members of the grid - it could very usually result in Fernando asking Sebastian about his boyfriend, Kimi Raikkonen, which the German never appreciated.

Back outside, Francesca and Pierre had managed to make peace. Francesca had spotted Charles walking along with Carlos and grabbed Pierre by the arm to go and join the two teammates.

"Your friends again?" Charles asks, looking over at them.

"No." Pierre states simply. "I hate her."

"And I hate him." Francesca replies.

"Which is code for I love her and I love him." Carlos whispers to Charles.

Pierre and Francesca shared a look as Charles laughed and replied to his teammate in Italian.

"Oi!" Francesca slaps them both on the arm. "English please - and Charles, you promised to teach me Italian!"

"I changed my mind." The Monegasque shrugs.

"Why?"

"Because then me and Carlos can't shit talk you when your around."

Pierre smirked, Carlos laughed and Francesca took to jumping on Charles' back and hitting him on the shoulder. Charles just moved to grip Francesca's thighs and continued to walk along with his teammate and best friend. When Francesca realised she was not going to get the much wanted reaction out of Charles, she stopped hitting him and settled for wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her chin on his shoulder.

"Comfortable?" Charles asks, chuckling.

"Very." Francesca replies.

He shakes his head, adjusting his grip on her thighs as he jumps her up his back a bit to get her into a more comfortable position as he walked. Pierre had taken to being annoying and was now grabbing pieces of Francesca's hair and pulling them, causing Francesca to keep swatting his hands away, and most of the time, accidentally hitting Charles in the process of doing so causing the Monegasque to threaten to drop her every now and then.

The quartet walked straight to the communal motorhome, not having any form of media duties until later in the day unlike their fellow drivers.

Or like Fernando and Lance, who had been so caught up in the Red Bull and Alpine drivers love life they forgot about their interview they were meant to do with Sky Sports UK...

The second they were inside, Charles threw Francesca down onto a sofa and sat in the chair next to it. Carlos followed suit but Pierre decided to jump on top of Francesca and lay there laughing.

"Your a very comfortable pillow, Celine." Pierre says, climbing off of her.

"Its nice to know you think of me as your human pillow, Pierre." Francesca grumbles. "Now get off."

She kicked the rest of his body off of hers causing him to face plant onto the floor.