Amped Up

Home :Stories by MystikHeather : Silly Fic Series : Amped Up

Summary: The consquences of too much sugar during a rainy race weekend.

AUTHOR: MystikHeather
EMAIL: mystikheather@cryptoffic.com
RATING: PG-13
SERIES: Silly Fic Series
CHARACTERS: Chad Knaus, Jimmie Johnson, Chad POV
WORD COUNT: 1,453
DISCLAIMER: If you recognize it, I don’t own it. I own NOTHING and am affiliated with NO ONE mentioned here. Not the drivers, not the teams, no one. This is all fiction and fun. In other words...NOT REAL, NOT REAL, NOT REAL. ;-)
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“I can’t believe it’s raining.  Again.  For the zillionth time this year.  Maybe more than a zillionth.”

Shake my head and continue to work through my notes, now that qualifying and practice has been rained out and everything I had planned is completely out the window.  Trying to ignore him as he paces through the small coach, back in forth in front of the couch, so much so that I have to move to the bedroom.  Five minutes later and he’s found me there too, flopping on the bed, sending my notes scattering. 

“Jimmie.”  Voice stern, or as stern as I’m ever able to make it around him. 

“What?”

“Go find something to do.”

Watch as he explodes into motion, sitting up straight on the bed, waving his arms around as if he’s swatting at invisible flies. 

“There isn’t anything to do Chad!  In case you haven’t noticed, it’s raining for the quad-zillionth time!”

Glance out the window, where a torrential downpour is soaking everything.  “It’s not raining that hard Jim, why don’t you go over to Casey’s and play video games.”

“I don’t want to play with Casey.”

“Then go over to Jeff’s.  Go over to Elliott’s.  Go over to Kyle’s.  I don’t care so long as you go somewhere and find something to do.  Ok?”  Gather up my scattered papers and head back out of the bedroom and to the small table in the kitchen, trying to reorganize everything. 

I hear him starting to putter around in the bedroom, and what he’s doing I don’t know, don’t care.  I’m just grateful for the quiet as I pick up a new sheet of figures from the last test.  And as usual it’s too good to be true, as suddenly he’s standing in front of me again.

“Why is it raining baby?” 

Stifle my soft groan, head landing in my hands.  “Because it is Jimmie.” 

“But why?  Why does it have to rain today?  Why can’t it rain on Monday?”

“Because if it rained on Monday, you wouldn’t be able to play golf.”  Not looking up at him, setting the first sheet down and trying to get the rest of them in order.

“Then why can’t it rain on Tuesday?” 

“I don’t know Jimmie.” 

“Why don’t you know?  Why can’t you make it rain on Tuesday instead of on the weekend?” 

Shake my head in disbelief, finally just tossing the pen down and leaning back, legs sprawled across the floor, forcing him to back up a few steps.  “What is the matter with you today?” 

“I’m bored.”  His voice like that of the petulant child he’s imitating. 

“I told you, go find someone else to play with.” 

“But I don’t want to find someone else to play with!  I want the rain to stop!” 

Continue to watch him, where he’s standing in the doorway, fidgeting from foot to foot, practically radiating nervous energy.  Narrow my eyes.  “How much sugar have you had today Johnson.”  Growl soft as his eyes widen and he tries to put on the most innocent face that really just proves that he’s hiding something.  “How. Much.”

“Three Amps, a green, a purple and an orange one,” he mutters softly, soft enough that I actually have to strain to here him.  “Junior bet me that I couldn’t handle it.”

“Unbelievable.”  More to myself than to him as I shake my head.  “Junior’s bored and so he leaves me with a sugar-high driver.  Unbelievable.” 

Sigh loudly, arms crossed across my chest, legs crossed at my ankles.  Pinning my gaze on him, eyes narrowed, watching as he fidgets even more.  “So now what am I going to do with you.  Considering that you’re amped up and it’s raining and we’re in this small…confined…space.” 

“Um…”

Wait for the rest of the sentence that of course doesn’t come.  “That’s all you’ve got for me?  Um?  No suggestions at all?”  Sigh again as he simply shakes his head.  “I should make you run laps around the coach lot as punishment.  Teach you a lesson.”

“But Chad…it’s raining.”

“I see that Jimmie.”

“But I can’t go running in the rain.”

Quirk an eyebrow, trying not to grin.  “And why’s that…afraid you’re going to melt?” 

“Yes!  Or at least…get sick or something, look baby…I just don’t want to go running in the rain.”

Nod my head, pretending to go along with him.  “Ok Jimmie…you don’t want to go out in the rain.  Fine.”  Watch him for another long moment as he practically dances from foot to foot, unable to help the soft smile that graces my lips.  As much as he manages to grate on every last nerve every now and then, I swear I could just watch him for hours. 

“Why do you always choose times like these to be full of energy without anyway to spend it?  I think, love, that you do it on purpose.  Something about watching me work just drives you crazy, doesn’t it.”  Keeping my voice soft, teasing, unsurprised by the grin that breaks across his own face.  Proof that I’m right.  Hell, Junior probably didn’t even put Jimmie up to any of this, he probably went over there looking for a way to annoy me.

Push to my feet, murmuring softly.  “That’s what I thought.”  Move over to him, standing about a foot from him, looking him up and down.  “So…just what am I supposed to do with you then…”

“I dunno baby…”

“Shhhh…” Reach up and brush my fingers across his lips, silencing him.  There’s only one way I can think of to burn this energy out of him. He’s had his fun, now it’s my turn.  Hands coming up, brushing my fingers gently down his chest, leaning in and kissing him ever so slightly, pulling away when he tries to deepen the kiss.  No…this is my game, and it’s time for my revenge.

Bend down just so slightly and nibble at his neck, the barest of touches.  Slowly moving forward, pressing him back until his back is pressed against the smooth countertop.  Hands tracing down his chest, lower to tease at his waistband.  Brush my fingertips against smooth skin beneath his shirt, licking my lips at his soft moan.  Feeling him relax back against the counter and moan softly as I continue my teasing touches.  Wait until his breaths are starting to grow shallower, his eyes fluttering closed. 

Suddenly without warning, dance my fingers quickly, roughly across his ribs, tickling him, knowing all of his most sensitive spots.  Holding him against the counter with my hips, following him to the floor as he slides down, attempting to get away from my hands.

Lay my body across his legs and hold his hands up over his head, having him now completely trapped as I use my free hand to hit every single spot until he’s practically squealing.  Finally when he’s breathless, tears of laughter tracking down his cheeks, I kiss him hard, demanding, trying to devour his mouth.  Pulling back at his soft moan, smirking as I climb off of him completely, leaving him sprawled on the floor trying to catch his breath. 

Settle back in my chair at the table, picking up my notes again, eyes narrowing as I spot a set of numbers that doesn’t make sense, starting to dissect him. 

“That…was totally not fair…” his voice still breathless as he starts to climb off of the floor, sitting with his back against the cabinet door. 

“You totally had it coming Johnson.” 

“It’s still raining though Chad.  You didn’t stop the rain.” 

And that’s all that I can take.  I push to my feet, slipping on a pair of flip-flops, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him to his feet.  Not saying a word I drag him over to his own shoes, motioning for him to put them on, not listening to any of his questions and protests anymore. 

As soon as his shoes are on, drag him outside, into the rain, not caring that we’re both soon soaked as I have one destination in mind.  Junior’s coach. 

Step up to the door and pound on it impatiently, glaring up at the surprised driver when he answers the door.  “You gave him sugar, now you deal with him.”  Practically throwing Jimmie inside of Dale’s coach, smirking to myself as I turn without another word and head back to our coach, making a mental note to throw away every single drink that is nothing more than a sugar-fest. 

Change clothes and then settle down in my chair again, wondering for a brief moment what’s going on in Dale’s coach.  Chuckling softly as I think of him trying to deal with my sugar high driver.  “Serves him right.”

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MystikHeather - mystikheather@cryptoffic.com