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Summary: Jeff is not happy with his protégé. Mirror image to Nothing Matters.

AUTHOR: Catw00man
EMAIL: catw00man@cryptoffic.com
RATING: R
CHARACTER: Jeff Gordon/Jimmie Johnson, Jeff POV
CATEGORY: Romance/Angst
COMPLETED: July 12, 2004
WORD COUNT: 4,027
DISCLAIMER: 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. ;-)
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is the mirror image of my fic Nothing Matters which is in Jimmie’s POV. This is Jeff’s story.
AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: This fic is actually inspired by a picture from Daytona victory lane on July 3, 2003. What can I say, Jeff DEMANDED equal time. You can find the pic above.
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After the Pepsi 400 at Daytona: July 3, 2004

What the HELL was he thinking? How could he even think of doing that? Was he even thinking?? Trying to KISS me in front of what…millions of people? Hundreds of cameras. Fans, the crew, the MEDIA who could completely ruin our lives. Is that what he wants? He doesn’t know what blood sucking vultures they can be. He doesn’t know how they can tear you to shreds so easily. I’ve tried so hard to protect him from all of that…and tonight he almost ruined it all!!

He knows I’m mad. He has to or he wouldn’t be walking half a pace behind me. Can’t he understand I’m just trying to protect us. I can’t bear to see him hurt. Oh, I’m used to the vicious rumors. There’s been so many of them. People would just die to know some of them are true. I could handle it. I handled so much of that crap in the last several years I really don’t care anymore. It used to bother me, the boos and the constant slanderous rumors and freaking organizations against me. But that was before I found him, and I’ll be damned if I let them do it to him.

I hear him curse behind me and I spare a glance back. He seems to be lost in thought and I can’t help but wonder if he’s cursing at me. Well, let him curse me, I really don’t care. I won’t have him be tomorrow’s front page gossip. I need to make him understand, I not ashamed of him. Far from it. There is nothing that would make my life more complete than sharing a win with him in victory lane and kissing him senseless. I’m just cynical enough to know it will never happen, and I’d rather have him back at the motor home than not at all.

Oh hell, but when he looked at me in victory lane tonight, I know what he was thinking. I was thinking the same thing. It felt so good to holding him, getting showered in champagne. I thank God every day that he came to me when he wanted to go to Cup. That he’s my team mate and we can get away with being together so much and being so affectionate. But, when he leaned in to kiss me…fuck if he knew how close I was to giving in. I know there have to be incriminating pictures out there now. We were so close. I just hope no one decides to go digging into our business.

I hear him sigh behind me and I just want to stop and take him in my arms and tell him everything is ok. But that would be a lie wouldn’t it. I can’t make that promise, and I can’t get away with holding him in public anymore tonight.

“Hey Gordon, trouble in paradise?”

I look over to see Kevin and Greg talking outside Harvick’s motor coach. I know he’s kidding, but why does he always have to have that sense of humor that cuts so close to home?

“Not anymore than you two,” I say and smile my patented nothing fazes me smile. Not the best of come backs, but I just want to get out of site. Sometimes putting on this fake face is just so hard. Greg calls out a congratulations to us both and I just smile again and wave. I just don’t have time for this tonight. I just don’t want anyone’s eyes on me but his.

Finally I see my coachman up ahead, and I can breathe a sigh of relief. Finally we can get out of the sight of prying eyes, and I can try and make him see how insane his move was tonight. I can’t lose him, and I won’t see him hurt. I just have to find a way to make him understand.

I walk up the steps to my coach and unlock the door. I step inside and turn to hold the door for Jimmie to enter, and that’s when I see him standing at the bottom of the steps with his eyes closed. Well, this is new. Since when does he need an invite? He can’t think I’m that mad can he?

“So are you going to stand outside all night?” I ask him. I swear he’s so cute when he’s unsure of himself. I can’t help but smile as he opens his eyes and climbs the stairs.

Ok, no, I can’t go there yet. I can’t get lost in those deep chocolate brown eyes yet. I have to make him see what could happen if we aren’t careful. I have to make him understand.

“What the HELL were you THINKING Jimmie?!?”

Ok maybe that could have come out better I think, as I see him jump. But, seeing him standing there I realize how everything could so easily fall part. How easily he could not be there. I shake my head and begin pacing the floor trying to find a way to make him realize how bad things could really get. How I’m not being dramatic, but that I just can’t lose him.

I toss off my hat onto the couch and run my fingers through my hair. So many what ifs fill my mind, as well as, so many different ways they could destroy him. I. Will. Not. Let anyone hurt him.

I glance over at him again, trying to decide how to explain the whirlwind in my mind, and… Damn it! He’s making eyes at me. I can’t do this if he’s going to look at me likethat!

“Good God Jimmie, could you stop looking at me like that? That’s what got us into this mess in the first place.”

I really, really shouldn’t be so short with him. But, if he only understood the way I do. I have to make him see. “Jimmie, didn’t you see all those reporters out there tonight, and-and the cameras? They-they were taking so many pictures of us. Of. Us. What if just one-one of them looks at those pictures, if just one person figured it all out and-and decided to dig deeper. We aren’t that careful. If just one person knew about this…” How can I describe what we have? How do you put a word on perfection? “this…thing between us…” I say waving my hands.

Ok so I don’t get points for eloquence. I never have, not like him. His words never get tangled up, no matter how excited he is. I just can never seem to say things just the way I want them. I need him to know how easy it is to get torn apart by all of this. I have a seven year failed marriage to back that up…and I never loved her like I love him. I have to keep him away from it all. I have to insulate him from the world full of people ready to crucify us if they had half a chance. We can’t be too careful, just one little slip and there’s no way the NASCAR world would let us race again. Maybe we could go to F1, somewhere overseas.

Ah, shit I don’t want to put him through that. I don’t want him to lose everything. Me? As if I would care where we were or what we did as long as I have him by my side. But, I know he wants to be a champion. I still swear he’s going to be better than me. But, not if he never even gets a chance.

I stop my pacing to look over at him again. I can’t believe he’s so quiet. Normally I can’t get him to shut up long enough to say my piece. He’s looking away and I can’t help but wonder what is going through that beautiful head of his. I smile at that thought and take a step towards him. We can fix this, he just needs to…

Pain. Pain-filled eyes meet mine as he looks at me. Pain-filled eyes full of unshed tears and anguish I can’t even image… and it’s All. My. Fault. I hurt him. My anger or my tirade or my words or something caused that much pain on his sweet face. I can’t… I can’t deal with those tear filled chocolate eyes accusing me. I was supposed to protect him!

I breathe in to try and find words and there are none.

“Jimmie…I…”

I shake my head. No words can fix this. I. Hurt. Jimmie. Screams through my mind and I have to get out of here. Away from those accusing eyes. Away to find a way to fix things, and take that look off his face forever.

“I’m sorry…I-I’ll be right back.”

I turn and stumble as fast as I can into the kitchen. How could I hurt him? How could I hurt my boy? How could I cause him that much pain. I try to remember everything I said and did since victory lane, but my mind is muddled…it’s too hard to think.

I. Hurt. Jimmie. is all that rings through my head. I have to make thing better. I have to. I can’t lose him.

I somehow make my way over to the refrigerator. I need to fix this. I need to clear my head. I open the door and stare inside, not that there’s much to stare at. I reach out and fumble for a Pepsi on the top shelf and close the door. I open it with practiced ease as my mind continues its assault on my sanity.

I. Hurt. Jimmie. I made Jimmie cry. I. Hurt. Jimmie. I can’t lose him. I can’t… I can’t… I can’t… I. Hurt…

**CRASH**

I pull my hand back from the shattered cabinet door and stare at the blood running off my hand and mingling with the spilled Pepsi I must have dropped on the counter when I ran my hand through the glass and wood.

Funny I don’t feel a thing.

The blood is running off the counter now and down the side of the cabinet. I must be cut bad…so much blood. But the screaming in my mind has stopped…as long as I focus on the red blood, my blood, running down my arm. I should hurt.

“What the hell was that,” I hear him say. But, he seems so far away. I Hurt Him. I should hurt.

“Oh Jeff,” I hear him whisper.

Why does he sound so worried. It’s just blood. We get hurt all the time. I hurt him. I should hurt.

I feel him touch my shoulder. I didn’t realize he was so close. He’s walking me across the room. Why is he bothering? He takes my hand and moves it under the running water and I jump. I felt that. The pleasant numb feeling that washed over me when I slammed my fist into the door is leaving. I look up at him and I’m terrified at what I might find there. I can’t hold is worried gaze. He shouldn’t be so kind to me.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper as I look back down to the sink, to my blood swirling around the drain. Don’t worry about it he says. Don’t worry about it? I hurt him. He shouldn’t be doing this I think as my hand starts to shake under is tender ministrations. He shouldn’t be so kind.

He’s wrapping my hand in a towel now. I guess the blood’s all gone. He shouldn’t be taking care of me like this. I was supposed to protect him. I was supposed to keep him from being hurt.

He guides me over to one of the kitchen chairs and puts his hand on my shoulder for me sit. I fall stiffly into the chair. He shouldn’t be doing this. I look up and met his sweet concerned eyes and it’s just too much.

“I’m so sorry Jimmie,” I whisper as I look back down at the floor. How can he forgive me for what I’ve done?

He’s on his knees in front of me, and I meet his bottomless dark eyes with mine.

“It’s ok,” he says to me.

No, no, no it’s not ok. I. Hurt. Jimmie. I start shaking my head and the screaming starts again. It’s not ok. How can it be ok?

I feel his hand on my knee and I met is gaze again. Such sweet, sweet beautiful eyes. Why is he looking at me so kindly? “It’s ok, Jeff,” he says to me more forcefully this time. I look deep into his eyes and see that he means it. He forgives me. Why, why would he do that?

I nod at him, letting him know I understand. But, I don’t. I look after him as he leaves the room and realize he is truly the most amazing person I’ve ever met. I look around at the complete mess I’ve made and grimace. I’m such a freak. Why does he love me?

I get up and grab a clean towel from by the sink and walk over to survey the damage. Blood is covering the counter and it’s mixed with sticky Pepsi. I shake at the disgust that fills me even thinking about drinking a soda after looking at this mess. I take the towel and try to wipe up some of this gory mess, but all I seem to be doing is spreading it around. This is definitely going to take a cleaner I think, until I feel a hand on my arm.

He’s back with his sweet soft eyes and he’s brought the first aid kit. I really don’t deserve him I think as he guides me back to the chair. He puts another towel on my lap, and I can’t help but think we are definitely going to have to buy some more, because I am not even going to attempt to clean these blood soaked ones.

“This is probably going to hurt a bit, but I’ve got to get all the glass and wood out,” he says to me.

I look down at my hand he has gently laid in my lap and realize what a mess it is. There is glass and wood in too many cuts. I nod at him and watch as he begins carefully picking the glass and splinters from my hand. He is so good to me, I would never have had that much patience. He barely hurts me at all.

But, I see that large piece of glass he’s left for last. I’m feeling it too. I grit my teeth and reach down with my free hand to grip the chair because I’m pretty sure this is going to hurt… a lot. I nod to him when he looks at me to let him know I’m ready. And boy does it hurt. Reminder to self, don’t put your hand through glass. It hurts!

I look down and see that my hand is bleeding pretty good again as he wraps it back up. I can’t believe he is so patient with me sometimes. He could have just took me to the care center and let some nurse do this.

“You didn’t have to do this you know,” he tells me as he turns back to the first aid kit. “You already had my attention.”

I can’t help but laugh at him trying to put me at ease. That’s one of the things I never get tired of is bantering with him. He’s just so good at it.

“You know me,” I shoot back. “I always have to be the center of attention,” I can’t help but tease him. Can we just go back to this I hope? Can we just be us again?

It looks like my hand has stopped bleeding again and he gently cleans it with alcohol. I bite back a hiss at the sting. I will never understand how that always seems to hurt the most. He carefully wraps up my hand, and I realize I have my own Florence Nightengale all to myself. How does he always put me in a better mood?

I look around the kitchen again, and I can’t believe I made such a colossal mess. This is going to be so much fun to clean up. I just can’t help myself as I say, “Hell of a time to fire the maid, huh?”

I knew that would get a laugh. God how I love that sound. I smile at him just as pain shoots through my arm as I move my hand. Ok, not doing that again anytime soon. I see him reach for the pain killers and I know yet again why I love this man. I swear he reads my mind sometimes. I watch him as he gets up and moves back to the sink.

“So, is water ok, or do you want to get mad at another Pepsi?”

Oh I really, really love him. I can’t stop laughing at his sarcasm. He really is the only person I’ve met who’s really always a match for me. “Water’s fine, Jimmie,” I tell him as I watch him fill the glass and come back to the table with the pain killers. He hands me a few and I thank the fact that they are so easy to come by because my hand is really starting to hurt! I guess that what I get for attacking the cabinet.

I toss back the pills and wash them down with some water as I hear him say, “So, you want to tell me what all this is about?” I almost choke on the water as I sit it down and try to figure out what to say. I just want to forget about it all. I don’t want to explain that I was driving myself mad because I’m an insensitive bastard who hurt him.

I get up and walk away from the conversation and pick up the towel I was using before to clean up my mess. Maybe I can get him to drop it I think as I tell him, “I really should try and clean this up. It’s only going to get worse you know.” Lame I know, but worth a shot. Maybe I can just stall.

As I wipe at the sticky mess again I think back on everything I said and when he got so upset. I was telling him about the reporters, and cameras, and what if someone found out about our relationship… wait that’s not what I said. Woah. Surely he knows I was just rambling, that he means the entire world to me.

I turn to him and realize he’s looking away from me again. Oh no you don’t. We’re gonna fix this, and we’re gonna fix this now.

“Jimmie,” I say his name, but he doesn’t turn back to me. Oh he better know better than this. “Jimmie look at me.”

I see him shake is head and hear his sharp intake of breath. Why is he so upset? He has to know I’m not mad at him right? That it’s just the whole situation. I take a step toward him.

“Jimmie, please,” I ask him, but he still doesn’t want to face me. Why is he so afraid to look at me? I know he loves me. He just showed me how much. Why is he so upset? What if he looks at me that way again?

“Jimmieboy, please look at me,” I beg him. I can’t take him turning away from me. What am I doing to upset him so much? I need him to know…

There are those scared pain-filled eyes again. But, I’m not going to run away this time. He’s mine and he’s going to know it. I stammer for the right words but all I can manage is, “Oh God, Jimmie…I…”

Screw words.

I walk up to him and grab him by the back of the neck with my good hand and pull his lips to mine. I try with my kiss to show him everything, to let him know how much I need him and want him. I feel him wrap is arms tightly around me as if he’s going to lose me. I just kiss him harder, trying to reassure him that I’m not going anywhere. Hell, he couldn’t get rid of me if he wanted to.

I finally break the kiss and pull his head down onto my shoulder. I stroke his hair and hold him as best I can with my bandaged hand. He’s still clinging to me as if I’m going to disappear, and I hear him sniff and remember the hurt that was in his eyes.

“Jimmieboy, I never meant to hurt you,” I say quietly but firmly in his ear. “You know how I get.” I have to make him understand why I was so crazy. “I just want to take you, and keep you just to myself so no one else can get to us.” That sounds a little crazy. Damn, I wish I was better with words.

I lean back getting him to lift his head and I look into those endless brown eyes. I always drown when I look into his beautiful expressive eyes. He looks so unsure and scared. I have to get him to understand. I lean forward and touch my forehead to his so he can’t look away.

“You’re everything to me Jimmieboy,” I tell him. But, that not all. He needs to know it all. I make sure he’s looking directly in my eyes as I continue, “You are my life. All of this, the fame, the money, the racing can all go away as long as I have you. I just can’t stand the thought of anything making things hard for us… making things hard for you. I just want to protect you Jimmieboy.”

I keep stroking is hair and his neck and will him to believe me. To see the truth in me. I see his eyes soften, and the pain is gone. I can’t stop now. He has to know it all. I could never go on without him and he needs to know this. I take a deep breath and continue, “You are my heart and my soul… my very being is tied to yours… I swear my soul is connected to yours…”

I can’t stand trying to prove myself with words any longer. I know they never come out right, so I pull my sweet boy into another kiss, but this time it’s all about love. It’s all about showing him everything I tried to say with words is true. He’s my everything. He’s my world. I am nothing without him.

We kiss like that holding each other for what seems like forever. I never want it to end. But, finally he pulls back and touches his forehead to mine again. That’s when I see the storm in those deep brown eyes. But, this time I understand. I know that loss for words. I see everything I need to see in his eyes now, and I know what he wants to say.

“Jeff,” he whispers my name trying to find more words.

“I know,” I tell him. I can’t help but smile at seeing him at a loss for words for once. But, words aren’t necessary. He says it all when he looks at me, just like he did in victory lane. Just like he always does.

“But…I…” he tries again.

“I know Jimmieboy, I know,” and I really, really do. His eyes meet mine again and the storm is gone replaced by more love than I know I have ever deserved. He understands. He knows.

I pull his head down to my shoulder again so I can hold him. I love to hold him. I’ll never let us get so lost again. I’ll do whatever I have to, to make sure he’s always safe with me, the world be damned.

Because nothing matters but us.

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Catw00man - catw00man@cryptoffic.com