<div class="floatleft">(http://i.imgur.com/QG1WmMH.jpg)</div><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><span class="bbc_u">Blaire Simmons</span></span><br/><span class="bbc_u">Location</span>- The Starting line<br/><span class="bbc_u">Date &amp; Time</span>- May 9th, 2006. 9:57-9:59 PM<br/><span class="bbc_u">Tag</span>- Terry, John<br/><hr/><hr/><br/>Blaire stared Terry down almost appraisingly as he turned away to remove his jacket, taking in the shapes of the muscles on his back as his black shirt clung to them and even stealing a glance at his ass before he turned back around and their eyes locked. It was an intense stare, filled with emotions, promises and threats. The way that he took her hand threw the blonde off, her eyes squinting slightly as she scanned him for any hint about his intentions, but he was proving to be a more complicated puzzle to put together than most. Who'd have thought that this guy who seemed like total white trash (albeit handsome white trash) would end up posing such a challenge? Hopefully his driving was as good as his mind gaming. Tonight was a night where Blaire wanted not only to win but also to crush all the best competition, not to swindle a bunch of wannabes like she had on so many other occasions.<br/><br/>She wanted to pull away from the weird handshake, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and vulnerable with Terry's large hand grasping her small and dainty one, but she forced herself to endure it until he let go. She'd come too far to show weakness now.<br/><br/>"Why are you asking me?" she eventually answered his question about Pietro's racer with a question of her own. "I thought this was yuor home turf." Blaire's parting gift to Terry was an attempt to make him feel foolish about not having done his homework for a race taking part in his own self-proclaimed stomping ground.<br/><br/>Walking away from her newly found rival, the blonde got around to addressing John. Blaire was a very mercurial being even at the best of times, and in the moments leading up to a race, particularly an important one, that aspect of her personal was amplified several times over. She could be feeling absolutely zen just like she could be hyperactive or hostile, and tonight she was ready to take on the world, especially after her little chats with Miyo, Pietro and Terry had primed her up. The world included her own friends and teammates if they had the misfortune of attracting her ire, and so far John was well on his way.<br/><br/>In the span of about a minute, he'd managed to arrive extremely late to what might prove to be the most important and defining event of her life, to butt into her conversation to ask about a fucking bathroom and to annoy her with the way that he was ogling Jamie. The last thing probably wouldn't have bothered Blaire had she not already been pissed at him, but since she was, it was making everything else that he did get on her nerves. Hell, she was even getting upset at Jamie for being stupidly hot and dressing up like a slut when five minutes ago she couldn't have been prouder of the girl.<br/><br/>But most of all it was John's questionable level of commitment that had Blaire so riled up. As absurd and unreasonable as it sounded and most likely was, she expected John to prioritize his responsibilities within the team above all else, even his career. She needed drivers that were as hungry and desperate to win as she was, otherwise how could they expect to beat the odds, to beat those rich motherfuckers with seemingly limited resources?<br/><br/>Blaire gave him a look as if she were a detective and John was her prime suspect in a murder investigation, though what she was really wondering was whether or not it was a mistake to bring him into the fold. "The fuck should I know? Change in your fucking car. I've got a race to win, no time to babysit your ass." Blaire would quite possibly regret being so harsh once she'd had the chance to cool down, but that wouldn't be until after the race at the earliest.<br/><br/>She brushed by John and whoever else was in her way and got into her car. It felt good to drown out most of the noise from outside, to be back behind that very characteristic instrument panel that curved around to kind of mimic what you'd expect to see in a fighter jet and to feel the texture of the steering wheel's worn leather beneath her palms and fingers. The Supra growled angrily as Blaire started it up, seemingly projecting its owner's emotional state. Not really, because, it always growled like that, but in this situation it seemed especially appropriate.<br/><br/>The engine was still warm since it had only been sitting for around an hour, it'd be back up to the optimal temperature by the time that the race started in a couple of minutes or so. The idle was perceptively rough thanks to the upgraded racing cams and advanced timing, but not nearly as bad as most of the souped up muscle cars in the area. It had to be drivable on the street, after all. Blaire gave everyone around the Supra about two seconds to clear out before getting it rolling closer to the starting line, but she stopped again a few car lengths away.<br/><br/>Locking the front brakes, she revved the engine up and dumped the clutch to spin the rear wheels into a squealing burnout that covered a large portion of the crowd gathered to the side in which the wind was blowing in white smoke. They loved it, of course, going crazy as if the smell of burnt rubber was the best thing they'd ever experienced. Having warm tires would help quite a bit with the launch, since traction was an issue that came with staggeringly high horsepower, but it was also for the purposes of posturing and letting off steam.<br/><br/>The back of the car broke loose slightly when Blaire finally let go of the brakes, but she straightened it out with practiced eased and rode the momentum all the way to the starting line, coming to a stop in between the white Supra and Eclipse. She couldn't help but smirk to herself as her eyes glanced over to the left at Pietro's ride, wondering if their little chat had played a part in his decision to field himself rather than his ace for the dead start. Blaire had to admit that the move had made her gain a certain measure of respect for the man - it took guts to put yourself on the line like that when you didn't have to - but she also thought that he was being completely stupid. Adriano may as well have been genetically engineered to run this type of race, it was just foolish not to use him when the momentum for the rest of the night was on the line.<br/><br/>At any other time, Blaire might have been disappointed not to have a chance at beating the one who'd spurned her, but this one time it was about the bigger picture, and in that regard she couldn't have asked for a better outcome. If she won this, then she and Lisa would both have pretty good odds in the drag race, and Lisa could be a monster in time trials when she wanted to while John was a bit more of an unknown, never having been race-tested, but his innate talent would hopefully make him a surprisingly dangerous dark horse.<br/><br/>A sweep was definitely within their grasp, but first things first.<em>Come on, come on, let's go already...</em>