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Driver's High
by Rage
Notes: chat session with Seph while trying to counter a case of writers block awhile back. Finally pulled it out and finished it because I was tired of having it sit around in my WIP folder. Might be or might not be a sequel to "Just Say No", doesn't really matter either way.
Disclaimer: Go ahead. Sue me. All you'll be able to get is some pocket lint.


Tetsuo didn't like helmets.

He couldn't hear, could barely see with the thing on--product of wasting too many days by standing directly in front of megawatt speakers at full amplification in tiny, barely lit live houses. Too much smoke, and dim atmosphere and blinding flashing lights that had very nearly blinded him for real.

That...and the fact that he liked to piss the cops off.

It made for a fun evening.

Tetsuo grinned and tossed his head--long hair flying wildly about in the wind, long legs straddling a strongly rumbling motorcycle--just a man about town, enjoying his ride. She was a Bandit 1200cc, black, snarling and uglier than shit...but she ran like a wild horse, strong and furious. He lovingly dragged his thumb along the handgrip.

She wasn't like those other ones, like the Kawasaki Ninjas or X-11 or those other racing breeds. Those were made for highspeed zooming, their engines and brightly streaking colors blurring together to sound and look more like a giant bug than a motorcycle. Those were _sportbikes_. Tetsu snorted and pushed his weight forwards. Made to be flashy and fast and with the personality of a decapitated chicken.

His Bandit was a true _woman_. Wild, and angry, and just as likely to purr gutterally under him as to buck him off and kill him.

He peeled around the corner, taking the turn like a madman and nearly clipped Mitsui who had probably been walking home from another trip to the doctor. Tetsuo waved a hand over his shoulder, not really caring if he saw or not. He'll laugh at Mitsui when they met up again at a later date.

There are those that say one bike is the same as the next, but anyone knows that you only need hear them--listen to them speak, their growls, hums, buzzing--it becomes painfully obvious what is what. There were those who in their rage and supposed pain buy a bike because of its street cred, just so that they can posture and show to the world that he was the Big Man now. No on would be able to mess with them again.

Those never lasted long. Not because they weren't tough enough, even though that is often the case. It was because they didn't understand. A man may not want to end up where he was, but once he was there, he better damn well find _something _ he could appreciate, otherwise he'd simply be taken down by someone else who cared about things a little more than he did.

A man had to care. He had to enjoy his life, or there really was no reason to fight, and in this life, fighting was everything. Tetsuo raced past a parked cruiser. Flipped the one fingered salute at the cops seated inside. Within moments red lights flashed and sirens wailed along behind him. He banked sharply, swerving to the left and swooped down a side alley.

It was as simple as _listening_. If you paid attention, you could tell that the lone Ninja in a sea of classic road cruisers simply didn't belong. After that, it was a matter of hanging tight until it realised it didn't belong there and left again. Though, Tetsuo mused laughingly to himself, those sports-types did grow on a man.

Tetsuo slowed and pulled to a stop at a red light. Not because of the light, kami knew he never stopped for those, but because of the four boys on a pink Vespa that inched slowly across the intersection.

Now that was...something. He wasn't sure what, but it was certainly something. The familiar looking one squashed between the equally familiar fat one and blonde one waved cheerfully to him. The fourth boy with a bit of fuzz masquerading as a mustache clung on at the back, trying not to fall off and onto his ass, though considering their speed, he wouldn't have hurt anything but his pride (what was left of it) if he did fall. Tetsuo sat back in his bucket seat, confident in the superiority of his less than virginal ride, and waved back bemusedly.

It took two more light changes before the brats finally made it around the block.

He shook his head. Grinned to himself . Waited a few moments longer until he heard the police car _finally_ catch up before he revved the engine and took off again. After all...

It wouldn't be any fun if they couldn't keep up.