The Cowboy Way

(Okay, for those of you who have actually been reading these and for those of you who have been waiting here is the third chapter. Sorry it took so long. I have received a few complaints about the delay and I apologize. Hope you like it. There is a little bit of build up but I hope its worth it for you guys).

* * * * *

Conversation in the BMW was kept to a comfortable minimum, on Ryley's part at least. Britney on the other hand hadn't stopped talking since they had gotten in the car two hours ago. And that was just fine for Ryley. He hadn't been able to take his eyes off Britney who had decided to dress a little risky, just to raise his blood pressure.

She was wearing a pair of skin tight, baby blue stretch pants that hugged every curve God had graced her with. Her shirt was a matching baby blue, button up blouse that wasn't buttoned, but was tied, right below her breasts. The shirt gave the whole world an unobstructed view of not only her incredibly tight and tan midriff with sparkling diamond stud at her navel but also a tantalizing hint of a baby blue Victoria's Secret bra.

Ryley had been drooling since he had seen the outfit. Britney had smiled devilishly at him when she showed him the outfit, her face adorned with scant, baby blue eye shadow and a light pink shade of lipstick. So needless to say, Ryley had been slightly uncomfortable from the start of this excursion.

The purpose of said trip was because Britney decided the best and quickest way to begin to develop her own persona again (to break the confining hold of her last record company over her life) was to buy a car. Apparently some studio executive had thought that America's teen queen shouldn't drive anything other than a BMW, go figure! So now, Miss Spears was in the mood for something rebellious, and Ryley had a good idea of what she needed.

As she had driven by dealership after dealership she had looked to Ryley for confirmation on the make. Again and again he had shaken his head, adjusted his hat and turned to look out the windshield again. Britney was becoming exasperated; he had shaken that cute face of his to Ferrari, Lamborghini, Porsche, Lotus, Jaguar and a good many others. But he had seemed dead set on what she needed and she trusted his judgment: he had been a NASCAR driver after all.

Finally, he motioned for her to take the next jug-handle and go back to the last dealership. Britney did as she was told and pulled into the parking, slightly shocked to see a red bowtie on a forty-foot high pole. What were they doing in a Chevy dealership?

"Are you telling me we passed every Italian sports car maker in southern California for you to take me to a Chevy dealership?" Britney asked as she lowered her sunglasses to look at him.

He smiled, leaned across the center console and kissed her. " Trust me, Britney. No one wants to see you driving a Diablo or a 911. There's something else far sexier, a little more patriotic and a lot more fun than those cars," Ryley explained as they climbed out of the car. " Plus it's a hell of a lot cheaper."

Ryley walked across the huge parking lot, which was filled with row upon row of glistening Chevrolets and opened the door to the showroom. Britney was a step behind him and as soon as she was inside her eyes fell upon an Electron Blue 2002 ZO6 Corvette. Something about the car made her heart race, and God it was her favorite color! She looked around for a salesman, saw several but none of them were making a move to help her or Ryley.

"Ryley," she whispered. " No one's helping us."

He smiled. " They will, why don't you look in the window of this 'vette?"

Britney shot him a curious look, but he just smiled in return. She walked to the driver's side door, leaned over and stuck her head in the window. Ryley watched her ass sticking up to the whole world and then her baby blue thong riding up her hips. He smiled as he heard several sets of feet rush in their direction from the showroom.

"May I help you, miss?" asked the quickest of the four salesmen. His compatriots shot him all glances of jealousy as Britney stood and faced the man.

Immediately all their jaws dropped when they saw who it was before them.

"Oh, Miss Spears, what an honor to have you here," spat out the first salesman.

Britney held out her hand. " Thank you, Mr. . ." Britney began, trailing off.

The man shook her hand, slowly. " Oh, umm . . . Jeff, my name is Jeff."

Ryley watched him shake Britney's hand as if it was his last act on God's green earth. Finally Britney removed her hand from his grasp and smiled, sweetly.

"I want a car," she said, simply.

Ryley lowered his head to hide a smile.

"Yes, you do," replied Jeff, his brain still hadn't caught up to his mouth. " I mean, yes of course. What were you interested in, particularly?"

"Well . . . I really like this Corvette," Britney said, running her finger slowly along the door.

Jeff swallowed. " Well, of course. It's a gorgeous vehicle, 405 horsepower, traction control, race suspension, six speed transmission."

Britney smiled. " I don't know what any of that means."

Jeff smiled. " That means its fast, Britney."

"No it doesn't," Ryley said, straightening up from his position behind Britney.

"Excuse me and you are?" Jeff asked.

Britney smiled. " He's the one that knows what all that means."

"That's right, Jeff. And this Corvette here is fast; I'll give you that. But it's not that fast. It's a fifty-five thousand dollar toy, that's what it is. I don't want a toy and neither does Miss Spears."

Jeff smirked. " And what does she want?"

Ryley took a step forwards. " A muscle car. I know all dealerships keep at least two of them. Show them to me."

Jeff blinked. " I'm not sure I know what you're talking about, if you're speaking about a Camaro, we only keep baseline models here the rest has to be optioned out from SLP-"

"Jeff, stop lying to me, buddy," Ryley said. " Go back to your sales manager and tell him to come out here and have a little talk with me."

"Okay," Jeff said, slowly and a little pissed off.

He turned and walked back to the main office and Ryley could see him talking to a middle aged man wearing a shirt and tie. Britney turned to Ryley, a look of confusion upon her face.

"Ryley, what are you doing? I thought we came here for a Corvette."

He smiled. " There's something better than a Corvette here. They just don't want anyone to know they have it."

Jeff returned, followed by the man from the office. He was a big barrel chested man in his fifties with dark brown hair, a mustache and a mean look on his face. He stopped in front of Ryley with his hands on his hips looking as if he was ready to do battle. He glanced from Ryley, who stood his ground, with his hands on his belt buckle, to Britney who had stepped behind Ryley just in case of a confrontation.

Suddenly the man's face broke out in surprise. " Holy shit," he exclaimed. " I know who you are. Jesus, I can't believe it, I never thought I'd get the chance to meet you!"

Britney was surprised just how happy this man was to meet her but then again you never could take something for its face value. She stepped forwards to shake his hand but was taken by surprise when the man grabbed Ryley's hand and shook it furiously.

"By god, Ryley Hale. I can't believe its really you!"

Ryley shook the man's hand. " It's nice to meet you, sir."

"Oh please, call me Jim. What an honor it is to meet you. What was the problem out here? Jeff said you wanted to see something?"

Ryley nodded. " I know most of the best dealerships keep a fully optioned SS and Firehawk in stock, out of sight. And I was hoping my friend and I could take a look at them."

Jim glanced down at Britney and suddenly a look of understanding crossed his face and he smiled.

"Absolutely, Ryley. You know, I thought that was you from those pictures in the Sun."

Britney groaned. Ryley laughed as he placed an arm around her waist, to the jealous glances of all the salesmen standing there, except for Jim. Jim was talking up a storm and gesticulating wildly as he led Britney and Ryley across the showroom floor and out a back door. Jeff followed close behind as they stepped out into the hot California sun and began walking around the side of the building to the back.

Amidst the rows of Malibu's, cavaliers, S10's and full-size pick-ups was a low profile two-door garage. The cinderblock construction was painted an unobtrusive white and had the overall appearance of being a maintenance shed. As they neared it, Jim produced a set of keys and unlocked a side door. Holding it open he ushered in Britney and Ryley and finally Jeff, who seemed to have resigned himself to walking behind Britney in order to stare at her ass.

Britney coughed, slightly in the hot, hanging air of the darkened building they were in. Her hand kept a firm grip on Ryley's as her eyes strained to see around the interior. Jim could be heard fumbling along the wall, presumably searching for a light switch.

Bright banks of fluorescent lights winked on throughout the building, which meant Jim had found the switch. Jeff approached the center of the room where Britney saw two covered cars sitting side by side. Seizing the edge of the one cover Jeff yanked the cover off, revealing the glistening dark red lines of a 2002 Pontiac Firehawk. Beside her she sensed Ryley's body tense as Jim grabbed the cover of the other car and yanked that off as well.

The Firehawk had been mean looking, an aggressive looking car that would no doubt turn heads. But the second car, with no exterior badging other than an understated red SS on the glistening black paint had an overhanging air of lethality. It's simple, smooth lines, drew Britney to it like a moth to a flame. Her hand slipped out of Ryley's as she placed her fingertips on the fender and walked around the car, a fire seeming to grow behind her eyes.

"She's a beauty all right," Jim said, appearing next to Ryley.

Ryley wasn't sure if he was saying it about the car or Britney. " Yeah," Ryley agreed with a neutral statement.

"It's not just an ordinary Super Sport," Jim continued. " They came with 335 horsepower max. I started a dealership modification program, just like that guy Berger out in the Midwest. Except he maxed at 380, while we were able to get our program up to 425 horsepower, emissions legal! Jeff here didn't want to let on that we really had these because we put so much time and development into them we're always afraid they'll be stolen, so we let on that we have to order the car as a special package."

Ryley gave a low whistle of approval. It was hard enough for GM to make these cars meet California emissions standards while still making over three hundred horsepower, but for this dealership to remain legal and make that much more power was outstanding.

"Ryley," Britney cooed, and both men turned to look. She was leaning on the hood of the car, her long legs tense, her firm stomach exposed and a maddening view of the tops of her breasts managed to draw a groan from Jeff. " I want this car."

Ryley smiled. " Jim, she wants this car."

Several hours later

With Ryley as her coach, Britney had grasped the essentials of working a six speed manual sports car. She was amazed, and physically excited at how well the Camaro held the road, it's tires seemingly grabbing onto the pavement with claws. Only twice had she stalled the car and that was on a hill trying to pull out from a stop sign. Ryley had laughed at her red face, her embarrassment.

Britney had yelled at him playfully, that he should drive, but despite her joking tone the smile had left Ryley's face immediately and Britney realized she had said something wrong. It took a long time for the conversation to pick up again. When it finally did they were sitting at a red light as the sun was just disappearing in the western sky.

"I'm sorry, Ryley," she said.

He turned to look at her, shaking his head. " Don't worry about it. It's just a sore spot," he said with a smile.

Suddenly the air was filled with an absurdly loud drone that Ryley knew belonged to an overly done up Japanese Import. Both he and Britney turned to the left as a Pearl White Supra with a Veilside body kit, and huge rims stopped next to them. The driver revved his motor several times, and Ryley could plainly hear the two turbos spool up and the wicked release of the HKS super sequential blow off valves.

The driver was a white kid in his mid-twenties with a flawless face, neatly trimmed sideburns and the hint of a goatee. Ryley instantly despised him, especially when the kid looked over and recognized Britney. He smiled, exposing flawless white teeth.

"Britney Spears," he called over the drone of his exhaust, which was not quite a match for the rumbling, snarling exhaust note of the Camaro at idle.

"Nice car," he called.

Britney brushed her hair out of her eyes and gave a dry, smiling for the cameras look to the kid. Apparently he didn't see the meaning of the look.

"Is this your boy?" he yelled.

Ryley took a deep breath, cracking his knuckles as he did so. Britney nodded.

"He's my man, boy," she replied.

The kid stopped smiling. " That's a nice car you got there. Wanna see if it can run?"

Britney looked at Ryley and he nodded. " Okay," she replied.

"When the light turns green," he called, then turned to face the light and began revving his motor.

"What do I do?" Britney asked.

Ryley tightened his seat belt. " Keep the clutch in, bring your RPM's up to about three G's. When the light turns green dump the clutch, wait for the tires to grab and then lay into it. You shift when the front end starts to drop but don't take your foot all the way off the gas. Hit your shifts, just like you have been, but quicker. And do not miss your shifts."

"What happens if I miss a shift?"

"Either you just miss a shift by missing the gear or you go down a gear instead of up and when that happens the RPM's will go off the tach and at the very least you'll bend the pushrods, the worst is a couple of pistons move upstairs into the heads."

"Is that bad?" Britney asked.

Ryley simply looked at her and nodded slowly.

Britney turned to look at the light and brought the rev's up in the Camaro. The car snarled at her, vibrations running through the floorboards as the insanely tweaked LS1 spun inside its powerband. Despite all the noise the only thing Britney could hear was her own heart pounding inside her eardrums. Her hands, one on the Hurst shifter, the other on the steering wheel began to sweat.

Suddenly she saw the light turn green and the sound of the white Supra spinning its tires shocked her into acting. She pressed the gas pedal harder and dimly she heard Ryley telling her to stop and then she dumped the clutch. Five hundred foot-pounds of torque suddenly screamed through the clutch, the trans, and the driveshaft, into the rear and to the tires in a split second.

The tires screamed in protest as they spun on the asphalt, throwing up chunks of rubber, asphalt and insane amounts of smoke. Within another half a second the car began to slide forwards and to the right, fishtailing. Britney screamed and twisted the wheel to the right and hit the brake with both feet as hard as she could. Her right foot however slipped off the brake and stamped the gas to the floor. The front brakes locked, but the rear wheels now received a fresh burst of power and spun ferociously, the brake pads burning up in an instant and the car spun around in a wide circle, pivoting as if on a pole on the front wheels, which remained locked.

Suddenly all the noise stopped, the only sound reaching Britney's ears right away was the sound of the Supra in the distance. She looked over and saw Ryley holding the keys to the Camaro in his hand, spinning them idly, a small smile on his face. Britney looked out the side window of the Camaro and saw white smoke coming from under the car and smelled something awful like plastic burning.

"What happened, Ryley?" she asked, turning back to him.

He smiled even wider. " Well, for starters you gave it gas first, not clutch. You let the clutch go at seven thousand RPM's."

"What do I smell burning?"

He laughed as he rummaged through Britney's purse for her cell phone. " That is a combination of your tires, your rear brakes which are fried, definitely your clutch disc waving goodbye on its way to heaven, and if I'm not mistaken you're rear."

"What about the motor?" she asked, looking through the windshield but not seeing any smoke coming from under the hood.

Ryley placed the cell phone to his ear. " Oh that's fine, you didn't make this motor sweat. The problem is, is the rest of the car was never designed to handle this much power. But it will be when I'm done with it."

A voice on the other end of the cell phone reached Britney's ears.

"TJ," Ryley said. " It's Ryley."

An explosion of garbled voices reached Britney again from the cell phone and Ryley laughed.

"Yeah, dude its me. Listen can you come out to Wilshire with your rig? Yeah I need a pickup."

Later that Night

Britney rubbed her arms lightly, the night had grown cold and the warmth of the urban area had been left behind hours ago. She and Ryley had waited for an hour before a glistening black flatbed, with a flame job that Ryley said must have cost six thousand dollars pulled up. A man about the same age as Ryley had climbed from the cab after backing up in front of the Camaro. He had long hair, a goatee and grease stained work pants with a white T-shirt that had an appropriate greasy handprint on the front.

Ryley had climbed from the car and met the other man between the Camaro and the flatbed. They gave each other a big hug, like they hadn't seen each other in years and Britney assumed correctly that this other man was TJ. TJ looked through the windshield of the Camaro and Britney gave him a sheepish "yeah I broke the car" kind of look. TJ then turned back to Ryley and asked him something. Ryley had nodded in reply and TJ looked back at Britney and nodded like he was trying to comprehend something.

So TJ knew who Britney was but had acted like she was a normal girl after she had climbed from the car and he was loading it up. They had ridden together in the flatbed as TJ drove them out of urban LA and onto a quiet two-lane road into a more rural section outside of LA County. After about a two-hour ride they pulled into the driveway of a fairly large and professional looking garage.

TJ had unloaded the car and backed it inside the building. Britney had followed Ryley inside and her eyes glowed with the reflections of the flawlessly polished floor. Rows of gleaming tools and toolboxes filled the garage, interspersed among glistening cars of various makes and models. She could see Ferraris, Lamborghini's, a couple of Lotus's, and other, more classic muscle cars. A GTO was backed into one corner, its hood up revealing the 390 horsepower 389, a '63 split-window Corvette, and two first generation Camaros.

Britney was impressed. She was even more impressed when a veritable army of mechanics came out of a door in the far wall. When they saw Ryley they began yelling to him and slapping each other. They had all crowded around him, giving him hugs, poking him in the ribs and teasing him about his clothes. He had laughed and joked back with them, giving as good as he got. Then they had all noticed Britney and she felt embarrassed and about an inch tall as they devoured her with hungry eyes.

Ryley had introduced her to them and all of them to her. It seemed that this group of men had made up his pit crew while he was on the circuit. TJ explained that after Ryley had been black-flagged the whole lot of them had decided to call it quits too. They had opened up this shop and now spent their time servicing some of the hottest automotive iron on the west coast as well as building purpose built cars for Hollywood, race car drivers and anyone with a large enough bank account. TJ had also explained that they had been responsible for building the '67 GTO that had appeared in XXX that summer.