F1 Driver X Driver

Cat Max

Hello my loves. I have not updated for so long, and I'm so sorry. Here is something to hopefully make up for my absence. It's been in my drafts forever but I'm in study now and managed to finish it. It's not written very well, the ending is rushed and the editing is awful. I swear I will get back to updating and your requests aren't being ignored, they are just being put on hold until further notice. I'm sorry but I'm really struggling at school and boarding at the moment, so when I can I'll update and edit. Thank you so much for all your love and support, your comments really make my day.

Much love Birdy xx

Daniel trudged down the pit lane with Lando beside him. Both their heads were hung low, squinting their tired eyes against the bright Bahrain light that illuminated the pit lane. Their curly heads were a mess, faces a ghostly pale.

"Remind me never to drink again," Lando mumbled as he rubbed his eyes, dragging his hands down his face.

Daniel gave a weak chuckle in response, flinching at his pounding headache.

"Man, I've never seen you drink so much in one night. You were crazy."

"This is why." Lando groaned scrunching up his face.

Both men shared a strained laugh, cringing against the noise and holding onto their throbbing heads. Slowly they continued down the pit lane though their movements were sluggish in character. Silence fell between the two as they trudged along.

After a while Lando lifted his head, his eyes squinting at something up ahead.

"Hey, what's that?" The young Briton inquired. Daniel followed where Lando was pointing, his eyes going wide.

"Mate either I'm still drunk or I'm hallucinating. Is that a cat?" Daniel mumbled, his mouth hanging open as he leaned forward to get a better view. He wasn't sure if he could trust his weary eyes.

"Daniel! It's a cat. It's a cat!" Lando gasped excitedly. Sitting ahead of the two was a small ginger cat. It was sitting happily in its own world right outside the Redbull garage where mechanics and engineers were working on the car, the number 33 painted on the front.

Lando took off, beginning a rather wobbly jog as he rushed over to the unaware cat.

Max padded down the long pit lane. His vibrant blue eyes were fixated upwards gazing up at the stunning world around him. The sky was a dark, dreamy navy colour with billions of little white stars clinging to it like paint to its canvas.

The pit lane, where Max was pottering, too was illuminated.

But rather than huge balls of burning gas up in the sky, it was lit by dozens of street lights and bright buildings.

It wasn't his favourite track, nor was it his favourite city, but there was something about the late-night Bahrain atmosphere that hung around the pit lanes that Max loved.

In his small and fluffy form, Max waddled his way past garage after garage. There were small groups of mechanics, engineers, officials and crew members who were all tinkering in or around the team garages working away at their cars, but Max paid them no attention. He was off the clock with nowhere special to be. So, with his uncommon free time, Max had gone for a much-needed walk.

It was rare for Max to find time to shift, though lately, he'd been finding more and more.

As a child, Max had never been allowed to shift into his animal form, his father too ashamed of what he was. So Max had never really had any practice, and being a beginner at shifting when you are a full-grown adult is painful, to start with at least.

The small kitten that was world champion Max Verstappen made his way swiftly and quietly down the road until he reached the red bull garage. He stopped outside the box, sitting quietly in front of his magnificent car. He eyed the vehicle before he turned his short attention span to watch his team captain Christian Horner. The man was watching the cat quietly, the papers he'd been working on still in his hands. He smiled at Max, nodding his head to which Max tilted his own before Christain turned back to his papers.