That Blue Gibson

CH 6

Dave and Liz stood together in front of a sprawling dining room table filled from corner to corner with exotic and fancy foods on tiny plates in even tinier portions. Liz sighed a little, hoping there would be something at least filling to eat. "I would probably punch my own mother for a burger right now," she muttered, turning away from the table.

Dave turned to her, "You wanna...?"

Liz only nodded, knowing exactly where he was headed with this.

"I'll get my keys," he said quickly and started for the foyer, but Liz grabbed his arm.

"No," Liz smiled, "It'll be easier if I drive."

*

Dave stood in the driveway staring at the bike in front of him. "So... wait," he started as Liz strapped on her helmet. "This...?"

"Ever ridden in a sidecar?" she asked brightly, retrieving her extra helmet from the luggage rack and handing it to him.

He only shook his head before pulling the helmet on.

"Oh, shit. Hang on a sec, okay?" Liz said and quickly walked into the open, but dark garage. As her legs passed the threshold, the lights in the garage blinked on and she almost crashed headlong into a low slung Ferrari. "Fucking sports cars," Liz grumbled as she dashed inside. She looked around a moment before locating a powder room just to the left of the garage, rushing inside and untying the skirts from her dress. She then headed for the foyer to retrieve her confiscated cell phone.

*

Dave took off his tux jacket and tie, threw them on the hood of the SUV he had arrived in and carefully climbed into the sidecar. What the fuck is this? he thought, mostly about the bike, but a little about Liz. He looked up as she reappeared in the garage, her dress now gone. Her long leather leggings reflected the fluorescent lights above her and she smiled at him as she reached the bike, leaning across him to throw a pile of black fabric in the toolbox at his knees. Her dark hair fell over her shoulder and into his face, giving him another nose full of her perfume. She slammed the toolbox shut walked around to get on the bike.

"Don't wiggle around in there too much or we'll high side," she warned before starting the engine.

Dave only nodded and focused on the headlight's beam in front of them. When they finally made it out of the congested neighborhood and onto the highway, Dave dared to glance over at her. The black of her outfit matched the matte black of the bike and he dragged his eyes down her body, vaguely thinking she looked a bit like a panther when his eyes settled on her shoes. He felt his eyebrows fly up in surprise at the black and white prison-issue Vans, worn down in spots only skateboarders would recognize. She suddenly changed gears, snapping Dave out of his focus and back on the road in front of them. They exited the highway and headed towards a brightly lit In N Out close to the off ramp.

"What do you think?" Liz asked as she killed the engine and unbuckled her helmet.

"I think I want one," Dave replied setting his helmet on the seat.

"It's a Ural, a Russian military bike," Liz explained as they walked into the restaurant. "Two-wheel drive! Though I think they're more made for off-roading and adventure biking than foxholes now."

The restaurant was empty except for the employees and they were back outside with their food in no time. Liz climbed up a picnic table and sat, resting her feet on the bench in front of her while Dave sat next to her, organizing their food between them as Liz watched.

"You're such a dad," Liz teased as he separated out an equal amount of fries.

He laughed and handed her a burger. "I even drive a minivan," he admitted, grinning.