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Richard scrubbed at his face with his hands, drawing them through his hair and staring wide-eyed at his reflection. Other than big, brown, puppy-dog eyes, he didn’t really feel like he had anything going for him. The middle-age spread he’d teased Jeremy and James for had crept up on him as well and no matter what he did with his hair it still looked ridiculous. Even his wrinkles had gone from being sexy laugh lines to deep immovable creases without so much as a by your leave. He sighed, giving his teeth a last check before turning away from the mirror and feeling thoroughly tired of being himself.
He walked out of the portakabin and headed in the direction of the track, squinting in the early morning sun. They’d gotten hold of the new Ferrari and after very scientifically drawing straws it had been decided that he’d be the one to review it, so he was surprised to see a cloud of tire smoke at the far end of the track. He walked to the start-finish line and waited, arms folded across his chest.
The car roared past him and was off down the track again. Richard hadn’t been prepared for the car to continue, but he thought he’d caught a glimpse of a familiar white helmet behind the wheel of the huge, red super car.
Well, not familiar. This was a new Stig, fresh harvested and home grown, he thought to himself, chuckling at the idea. So really, the helmet wasn’t familiar, just the idea of it.
On the next lap the car pulled up at the line and the engine switched off unceremoniously. Richard rocked on his heels, waiting for Stig to climb out while the car ticked itself cool in the early morning chill.
Stig stretched, rolling his shoulders before he turned away from the car, stopping in his tracks when he saw Richard. The white helmet tilted ever so slightly to the side and he raised a hand in wordless greeting.
The keys caught the sunlight and threw it in a thousand directions as they flew in a perfect arc to Richard, who merely extended his hand to catch them.
He looked down at the keys, warm in his hand, then back up at the Stig, who was still (for as much as one could tell these things) staring at Richard.
New Stig. Maybe New Stig could make a New Richard he thought to himself as he closed the distance between them.