Belgium Grand Prix
Doctor Turner didn't know where to look. She had started off looking at you but once Charles started to speak her attention was turned and then Lando chimed in too. Her poor neck was straining with flitting back and forth between the three of you sitting across from her desk.
"I think it is the stress," Lando said as he squeezed your hand.
"I think it is the medication," Charles countered, a familiar argument brewing. "Things started to change after she started taking it."
Dr Turner hummed as she made her notes and prompted him for more as he fell silent. "Changes such as?"
You zoned out of the conversation. The whole appointment was a result of the family meeting they had called and the information was nothing new to you. You were moody, you were tired, you were hungry. Charles had been the one to suggest it was the hormones from the contraception. He had even gone so far as to unfold the very, very large sheet of side effect information hidden in the box.
"-and her weight."
"Thanks, Charles. Love you too," you muttered.
"Not like that, chérie," he said as he turned to face you, cupping your cheek gently. "You are beautiful and I love your body, but you are training a lot harder with Kristian to maintain your race weight and you didn't have to do that before."
That much was true. The team had even stopped putting sandbags in the car for testing since the car was no longer underweight. You had thought your fireproofs had shrunk in the wash when you pulled them on in Hungary last weekend and the sleeves had cut into your wrists. There's skintight and then there's skintight.
"Those were all possibilities we discussed at the time," Dr Turner said with a nod. "They are quite common with hormonal contraceptives so you likely wouldn't find any change with the alternative options like the injection or the rods."
"See, told you this was pointless. I just have to deal with it."
"Or you could stop taking them," Lando suggested.
"Given the choice...you want to go back to condoms?"
"As much as we enjoy the benefits, it's not worth it if this is the cost," Charles answered for the both of them. "Just stop taking the pills for a while and see how you feel."
You sighed with defeat but you accepted the plan with a nod. "At least I'm stressed enough that there'll still be no periods. Yay for me."
Lando snorted a laugh at your sarcasm but Charles didn't find the humour as he shook his head and thanked Dr Turner for fitting us into her busy schedule. It wasn't as busy as yours since you needed to get to Côte d'Azur Airport to catch a ride with Max to Belgium, you and half the grid apparently.
"Well that was a waste of time, and now we need to go shopping for condoms," you muttered as you left her office and got in your car. "Do you think Costco sells them in bulk boxes?"
"I am not buying cheap Kirkland branded condoms," Lando said with a cringe. "Fuck that."
"You also said you would never do dry July but here we are," you pointed out.
"Except for that one night after Silverstone," Charles added as he started the car.
"Doesn't matter, I'm not risking anything less than Durex. I'd rather trust myself to pull out."
You looked at Charles in the rearview mirror before you both broke out in a fit of laughter as you shook your heads at the idea.
Lando was offended.
"Hey," he called as he turned in his seat to look at you. "I could pull out if I wanted to."
"You're lucky you're handsome, because you can't lie to save your life."
"We both know how it is when you hit that sweet spot, mon cher," Charles said as he reached across the gearbox and rested his hand on Lando's thigh. "It's too good to resist staying buried in her."
"I said I could if I wanted to, not that I would or want to."
--
By the time you arrived at the airport, and hustled your way through security, you found Max, Daniel and Pierre already seated on the plane and pointed to other empty seats. "Are you expecting the rest of the grid or what?"
"At the rate you're collecting them, maybe," Max joked.
You laughed and dropped into the seat opposite your brother, kicking your feet up on his armrest. "You can't say shit like that in front of Pierre, he gets far too excited. He might even wet your carpet."
Pierre looked up from his phone and you could tell from the smile on his face that he had been busy texting Kika before he realised what you had said and his lips pouted. "You make me sound like a puppy."
"Nawww, I wish you had that level of obedience, Gasly." Your feet were roughly shoved off the seat and you narrowed your eyes at the culprit as the plane began to taxi to the runway.
"Safety first, zusje, haven't you read the pamphlet?"
"Why would I do that?" you scoffed as you buckled the belt in. Charles was doing the same where he sat across from Pierre and Lando was next to Daniel. "If something happens at 36,000 feet, bracing isn't going to save me. Now, are there any stroopwafels on board this thing or do I have to wait another two hours? I'm starving."
"The last two races have seen a big drop in performance for both you and Lance, and only a few points added to the tally, and now - failing to finish the sprint with that crash. Is this something the team is looking into?"
You wanted to ask if the Sky Sports reporter had a brain cell but took a steadying breath instead and nodded. "Mhmm."
"So what is Aston Martin doing to get back up where you were competing earlier in the season and what are your hopes for the race tomorrow starting 9th on the grid?"
"We are doing what is always done: look at the data, continue the upgrades, and keep pushing. Same goes for the race, I'll try my hardest to make up some places and avoid the gravel. I'm usually good at getting off the start line, the car is great for short acceleration so if I see a gap I'll be going for it. Plus, you know how turn one goes - that might make my job easier if the boys up ahead get greedy."
"Speaking of boys, this time last year you were heading into the summer break looking for love. What's the plan this year?"
"I don't know, maybe I'll take Max's advice and adopt a couple of cats this time." You laughed as Lando and Charles turned to you from their spots in the media pen. "Is that a yes...no...maybe? Oh, that's their 'we will talk about this later' face. I'm going to go now before I get into trouble."
The smile you had been holding onto fell away as you stepped into the Aston Martin hospitality building and you grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before you navigated your way to your room. You almost made it there with no interactions, until your fellow driver caught up and clipped your shoulder as he passed by to his room.
Still annoyed at the reporter, you dropped your hand from the doorknob and turned to him. "What's your problem?"
"You almost had points and you threw them away. That's what."
"I spun out, Lance," you sighed, already exhausted with where the conversation was heading. "It's wet and it's Spa, it's easy to have an accident. It's not like I saw you up there earning any of them."
"It's not my seat that's on the line though," he stated.
"Is that a threat?"
"No, it's just the truth." His lips curved into the pretentious smile you hadn't noticed when you joined the team, but it had become irksome to see grow over time. "My seat is secure."
"If that were true you wouldn't be wasting your time hassling me over whatever issue you've made up in your head." You enjoyed watching that smile fade.
"I don't have an issue with you."
"Then you feel threatened by me," you said with a casual shrug. "It's basic biology, animals attack when they feel in danger."
"You should do something about that big ego of yours."
"It's big like my dick," you said as you turned the door handle and shoved it open, "so choke on it."
"Bitch."
You gasped theatrically as you paused in the doorway. "Lance Strulovitch, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"
"Did I offend you?"
Your laugh started as a tickle in your throat before your lips peeled back and bared your teeth at him. "Sticks and stones, baby, I kind of like it."
Realising he wasn't going to get the reaction he wanted from you, he shook his head and stepped away. "You're all kinds of messed up."
"Thanks for the assessment, Freud." You slammed the door shut before he could give a response and screamed as you threw your bottle at the body that suddenly appeared. "Jesus, fuck."
"Nope, just me," Max chuckled as he rose from the chair that had been hidden by the door. "Nice to see you get along with your team mate too."
"Oh that, that was just a friendly sparring match. Nothing to worry about."
"I did warn you, zusje."
"Yeah, yeah, you love to say I told you so," you drawled as you grabbed your drink bottle from the floor and cracked it open. "Anyway, what are you doing, hiding in here acting like the godfather?"
"Our mothers have been conspiring again," he said with a fond smile. "Family dinner tomorrow night after the race."
"Won't you have a winner's after party planned?"
"I don't think my liver could handle another one so soon."
"Serves you right," you snickered as he opened the door. "Wait, can Pascale, Adam and Cisca come too?"
"I said family dinner, didn't I? They're pretty much your in-laws." He pointed to your table and you followed his finger to see a box overflowing with stroopwafels. "Is that enough or should I get some more for the flight home?"
You grinned as you grabbed one and tore through the packaging, talking with a mouthful. "I thought I was walking?"
"With those manners, you should be." He started to close the door but changed his mind and stepped back in to pull you into a hug. "I'm glad you didn't hit the barriers, zusje. Drive safe tomorrow."
You nodded against his shoulder as you hugged him back.
It was only two days earlier that you ran the track with Pierre in memory of his friend, Anthione, and only five weeks before that another driver had lost his life on the track too. You hadn't been thinking about that when you spun out, it wasn't like it was anything close to what Lando did two years ago.
But your brother would always worry about you.
"You too, Maxy."
Fifth was the best you could do in the end but for once you weren't weighed down by the result.
You sat beside Max, sipping from a glass of lemonade that should have been a gin and tonic, and smiled at the story he animatedly recalled from the race. On your other side was Charles, his dimples deepening as Max praised him for the perfect overtake he had made on Lewis to clench third place. Beside him, Lando was grinning proudly and draped his arm over Charles' shoulder, his fingertips teasing your collarbone.
Your parents lined the other side of the table and you scanned their faces while they were engrossed with the story, not as accustomed to Maxsplaining as you and the other drivers were. No one would have ever thought that the parents of a Red Bull, a McLaren, a Ferrari and an Aston Martin driver would all come together and support them all equally. But there they were. One big happy family.