Author: Kaia
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Scorching heat, purring engines, leather-clad bodies...do I need to say more?
Copyright: Based on characters from Buffy The Vampire Slayer, created by Joss Whedon. You can find out more about Superbikes and Motorcycle racing in the AMA Superbike Championship website. Oh, and a small shout out to an awesome Rob Reiner's movie: A Few Good Men.
Feedback - Yes, please? Please leave feedback on the Willtaralympics 2007 thread on the Kitten Board.
Thanks: P for putting up with me. The RKT group for the help, support and coming up with rocking ideas. Chris for the kickass banners. Db and Car for letting me abuse her beta-reading skills.

"Former AMA Supersport champion Tara Maclay has embarked on her second full season of the AMA Superbike Championship competition with a resounding victory!" The excited reporter looked straight to the camera as he introduced his guest for the evening.

"You're one of the few women to participate in the world's premier national Superbike Series. Your results prove you to be one of the most - if not the most - successful female racer ever to grace these speedways."

Tara Maclay blushed demurely as she smiled proudly to the camera. "Thanks, Michael."

"It must feel good, right?"

"It feels great, Mike. When I won the Supersport Championship in 2004 and 2005, I realized I was ready for bigger challenges. Then I was contacted by RKT Racing and they made me part of their team."

"That's right, Tara. You were already racing a four-stroke, multi-cylinder motorcycle, but a 600cc engine is very different from a 1000cc."

"It certainly is, and let's not forget the race length!" Tara chuckled.

"Of course, must've taken a lot of training to get used to the extra 40 kilometers."

Michael Jones turned his head around to look at Tara. His eyes rested briefly on her face as they traveled slowly down her seated body, pausing on her breasts and then traveling back up to her face again.

"Not that you need to work-out."

Tara shook her head. 'Boys' she thought, with an amused smile. She was used to this behavior, the AMA, and the Superbike competition in particular, was a man's world, after all.

Tara cleared her throat softly. Mike glanced at his cards and continued: "Last year, some would say, was a steep learning curve for you. How do you think it will help you in '07?"

"I think it's fair to say that I learned a massive amount in '06. Not just the circuits but the routines and lifestyle too. RKT ran a truly professional set-up and I was surrounded by good people right from the start. Yes, it was a steep learning curve and the results might not tell the full story, yet, but it's definitely stood me in good stead for 2007." Tara flashed him her trademark half-smile.

The reporter tried to concentrate on the card currently in his hand. "I remember talking with you before the season started and you said your goal was to narrow the gap between yourself and Spike. At that point it sounded as if you would have been fairly pleased with the result even if you had only ended up taking four or five wins and finishing second in the championship."

"Yeah, I probably would have been satisfied with that. However, my goal was to win the championship, even though I knew that it probably wasn't the most realistic thing in the world. My first year I finished second and there's only one place to go from there," Tara winked.

"Let's talk about Red Flame Motors and their 'Crimson Tide' for a minute. I'm sure you're familiar with the concept?"

Tara chuckled. "Yes, Michael. I'm familiar with the name Willow Rosenberg."

"Then I don't have to tell you she's won the European competition for the last two years and has now joined the American tour."

"Well, I don't know her personally, Michael, but all I can say is that it's always great to face new challenges and that I wish the 'newbie' good luck." Tara raised an eyebrow as her right hand went to her hip while she looked straight at the camera.

"You're cocky. I'm sure your fans love that about you..."

"I'm not cocky. It's just that I grew up listening to American racers say that Europe is where everything's at. So if the European champ wants to compete with us, then I say it'll make us all better riders."

The reporter couldn't hide his amusement. "She's American, you know? A California-native, as a matter of fact."

"Then maybe it's time we remind her of how we do things the 'American' way." Tara grinned at the reporter.

"Is the RKT team the same set-up as last year or have there been changes?"

"We've had a few additions to the pit crew that I think will give us more confidence in the technical area, which is great for me because it means our level of support will be strong. Other than that, the team is very similar to 2006 in terms of staffing and structure, just more experienced. I think we're ready for the task at hand."

"...and the task in hand is winning." He stated, as he turned to face the camera again. "Ladies and gentlemen, the winner of today's Daytona 200, Tara Maclay!" He turned to his guest, extending his hand. "I know you must be tired and on your way to a huge celebration. Good luck next month in Birmingham. Although, I have the feeling that if you keep riding the way you did today, you won't need it."

"Thanks, Mike. Good night." The blonde smiled at the camera and stood to leave as the monitor on her right showed images of her crossing the finishing line first and performing her characteristic 'stoppie' for the fans as the credits rolled in.

"I really don't think you should be smoking here, Spike," the brunette spoke as he made sure the front number plate was mounted parallel to the fork tube. "There's flammable stuff all over the place."

"I couldn't care less what you think, Harris," the blonde said through a puff of smoke. He tossed the helmet he was carrying to his mechanic before zipping up the upper part of his black and white riding suit. "Just do your job and finish polishing the bike already, I have to start my qualifying run in a little while. I saw the newbie on her practice run yesterday and we're gonna have to try our bloody best to keep our place on the start grid."

The mechanic's reply was interrupted by the sound of heavy boots hitting the pavement.

Black leather boots attached to a pair of toned black leather-clad legs were currently walking towards the two men. The two men stopped their rant to observe the topic of their conversation.

The hiss of Spike's cigarette butt hitting the wet ground made the owner of the legs slow her walk and notice the two men looking up from her slim leather-clad upper body to her pale face framed by short, disheveled red locks.

The woman decided to take off her sunglasses just as she walked by the men. She focused her sparkling green eyes on the blonde's blue ones before issuing a flirty wink.

The redhead hooked her helmet under her elbow. She neither changed directions nor slowed her pace. The echo of her heavy boots faded as she continued her purposeful stride away from them

"Jesus Christ on a crutch! Who is that?" Harris asked.

The blonde took a few seconds as to light his cigarette. "That's 'Crimson Tide', Red Flame Motors' new rider and last year's European champion."

"That's the newbie? That is Rosenberg?!" The mechanic couldn't hide his excitement at the sight of the gorgeous redhead. "Damn, Spike. Too bad she's the 'enemy', otherwise nothing would stop me from showing her a good 'ole Harris-time!" He made quote signs in the air with both his hands, as if to emphasize his words.

Spike took a deep puff. "That hasn't stopped me before, and I don't see why it should stop me this time..." He exhaled mostly on Xander's face. The annoyed mechanic chose that precise moment to throw back the helmet to its' owner ...who failed to catch it before it hit the somewhat uncomfortable swelling in his pants.

"I saw her first, Bloody. You'd better stay out of this one," The brunette raised his voice and raised a threatening finger to his team mate.

Spike chuckled. "Like you'd have a chance, oil-boy," he snorted and put on his helmet and got on his motorcycle, eyeing the mechanic. "A woman like that needs more than a couple of kid-tricks to keep her happy. You don't stand a chance..." With that, the blonde rider lowered his helmet visor and started his engine. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a pole position to win," He twisted the accelerator hard, gunning the engine before he sped out of the paddock.

Willow sat lazily on her motorcycle after having positioned it in her assigned place for the start of the qualifying race. She raised her left hand to her head to keep her helmet in place while she tested the communication system. Satisfied that the transmission was clearly audible, she lowered her visor and turned to her crew to give them two thumbs up. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a midnight blue motorcycle approaching the paddock area. The blue rider was looking anxiously up at the electronic board to see the official lap time. The rider's tinted visor was down, but Willow could see a hint of blonde hair escaping the back of the helmet. She let her eyes take in the mysterious rider's body, clad in a leather suit that clung to womanly curves like a second skin.

The rider chose that precise moment to slowly remove her helmet and Willow forced her self to close her mouth when she noticed the silky blonde hair tumbling down, almost as if it were in slow motion. Willow was acutely aware of the light coat of sweat bathing the skin of the woman's neck and she felt her mouth go dry. Suddenly, the rider turned toward Willow. The intensity of the gaze made Willow gasp for air. She blinked several times, comforted in the knowledge that the stranger couldn't see her reaction through her helmet. The adrenaline was shooting through her veins like a big wave rolling in to the shore of Kirra, threatening to engulf her and throw her down on the sharp coral.

The blonde's gaze remained fixed on her and Willow couldn't stand it any longer. She raised her visor and held the blonde's eyes. The darkness in her blue eyes made Willow feel vulnerable, naked and exposed. She closed her eyes to force away the shivers currently running down her spine and moaned softly inside her helmet. Nobody could hear her, she thought. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and willed herself to concentrate: her race was about to start and she couldn't afford to make a mistake that could easily kill her.

The blonde rider jumped into her crew members' embrace when her time results were finally posted. She noticed the logo on the back of the mechanic's outfit and she sighed.

"So you're the 'Blue Tornado'," Willow whispered to herself. "Guess this will be an interesting challenge, after all..."

The buzzer brought the rider back to race. Only a minute left. Willow caressed the body of her black motorcycle, tracing the red flames painted on it with the tips of her gloved fingers. It was her good luck ritual, one she had performed before the start of every race since she won her first podium appearance a few years ago.

She brought the throttle up, holding the brake lever in her left hand. The lights went amber. The moment the bottom light went green, Willow made her engine roar...and was gone in a split second reflex.

"Red Flame added to their AMA Superbike trophy collection today when the series stopped at Barber Motorsport Park in Birmingham, Alabama for Round 2 of the 2007 championship." The commentator relayed, surrounded by the sound of engines roaring as he stood next to the finish line.

"Team Red Flame's Willow Rosenberg obtained her first podium finish in the American championship. Rosenberg, who just entered the competition after missing the season opener, led her team to a stellar first-place result."

The cheers of the crowd made it difficult for the commentator to hear the feedback he was receiving from the studio, so he just kept going. "Despite her absence the opening weekend, the 06 European champion has proved she means business! Without a doubt, we'll see her quickly climbing the ranks in the class title race, where she is now sitting in sixth position. Crimson Tide was followed closely to the checkered flag by Alabama's own Blue Tornado, Tara Maclay, who occupied the first place position throughout the race only to be displaced by the newbie with only 2 laps to go, in what seemed a questionable maneuver by the overseas champ." He nodded to the techie who started broadcasting unedited images of the race that had finished only a few minutes ago.

"Early in the contest it looked as if both RKT pilots would finish in order, but William 'Spike' Sangre crashed out of a potential third-place result while working lap 4. RKT's Charles Gunn snatched his place followed by Red Flame's Faith 'Bikerbabe' Lehane who missed the podium by a mere 0.5 second."

"Because of Spike's misfortune, Red Flame once again dominated the race's top five, claiming 3 of the available spots. The class' current championship runner-up, Liam Fangelus, finished fifth, followed by Rockstar's Oz Osbourne, Buffy S. Summers and , R. U. Finn. That's all for now Michael, we'll get back to you with the winner's impressions," the commentator smiled as he addressed the reporter.

Tara reached the pits and made her tires screech to a halt. She got off her bike and started angrily pacing back and forth, hands on her hips. She lowered the zipper of her leather riding suit before taking off her helmet, throwing it angrily to the pavement. The sound of the fiber cracking as it violently hit the ground alerted Xander, who hesitatingly approached the rider until the blonde looked towards him, halting his movement.

The normally ocean blue eyes were almost pitch dark. The mechanic turned around on the ball of his feet, leaving without a word. Tara failed to push down the bitter taste of bile that rose in her throat as the images of the encounter hit her:

The vibration of her bike's engine pushed to its limit made Tara's heart beat incredibly fast. Despite the noise saturating her ears she felt the distinct change in the air flow around her and she knew someone was getting closer. She looked a bit to the left to see a dark shadow settle by her side. She gripped the handles tighter in anticipation. She lived for these moments, the ones where she felt the adrenalin rush through her brain.

The distinct red flames on the black motorcycle's bodywork gave her opponent away and she thrived on the knowledge that she would get the opportunity to test her skills against the newbie. Her eyes straight ahead, she tried to squeeze the last bit of power left on her engine and smiled confidently, only to realize a fraction of a second later that the mysterious woman had caught up to her and was currently tilting her head in the blonde's direction.

Tara swore she had never seen a more beautiful shade of green but her amazement turned into surprise when she noticed said pair of forest green eyes looking intently at her. Time seemed to freeze for an eternity, although she knew it wasn't possible.

Then, the most unexpected thing happened: the dark figure winked seductively and Tara felt a rush of blood to her head. Suddenly everything went black for an instant and she felt her motorcycle drifting to the right. She opened her eyes just in time to see the gray wall approaching, fast. She was able to tilt the handles to the left to steady the bike's direction, avoiding the contact of her leather pants with the concrete, but not fast enough to prevent the screeching sound of metal scratching cement.

With great effort, Tara was able to avoid losing balance. She aligned her motorcycle with the road and sped forward gulping her fear down as she set her eyes on the tail of the dark motorcycle. The flag signaled only two laps to go and Tara tightened her hold on the accelerator, only to find out that, even after giving it her best shot, the advantage the newbie had on her was more that enough to with the race...

Tara snapped her eyes open and balled her fists. "Who does she think she is?!" she said through clenched teeth. "I'll show her what kind of blonde she's messing with!" She kicked the helmet before straddling her bike, heading for the Red Flame's garage.

Tara found the redhead surrounded by her crew members. She drove her motorcycle close to the gathered people and gunned the engine to get the rider's attention. The crowd parted, leaving her only a few feet away from the target of her anger. The smaller woman had a champagne bottle in her left hand. Below the striking tousled red hair, her suit was unzipped, the top portion hanging casually from her low slung hips. Her skin was glistening with champagne and the wet white tank top she wore clung to her body, the fabric of the sheer, damp garment straining lewdly across her nipples.

Tara's eyes were immediately drawn to the rosy buds under the redhead's top. After a few seconds Willow chuckled, before clearing her throat. Tara's head snapped up, an evident blush covering her cheeks. Then, anger replaced the lusty feelings currently swimming in Tara's blood and she stood as tall as she could facing the redhead.

"I need to talk to you," the blonde took a glance at the crowd before facing the redhead again. She dismounted her ride and walked a few steps bringing her a mere foot from the rider.

"Alone."

The firmness in Tara's voice made the corner of the redhead's lips curl up slightly. She would love to get the chance to tame such a fine specimen.

Willow held the blonde's gaze and proceeded to dismiss her team. "Boys, if you'll excuse us, I need to talk to the Tornado here," she pointed the hand holding the bottle towards Tara. "...alone. I'll see you all at the party."

The crowd dispersed slowly and the riders were finally left facing one another, alone. The redhead took a step towards Tara meeting her eyes. "To what do I owe the extreme pleasure of your visit?"

Tara was fuming. She balled her fists so tight, her nails dug deep into her skin. "What were you trying to do back there? You could have gotten me killed!! I don't know how you do things in Europe, but here we play fair," she hissed, her eyes a raging maelstrom of blue and grey.

"Next time you pull a stunt like that I'm gonna file a complaint," the blonde pointed an accusatory finger, "Are we clear?"

The redhead chuckled.

Tara took a step closer to the smaller woman. "I said, are we clear?" Tara raised her voice. The redhead felt her knees go weak.

"Crystal."

Feeling she had gotten her point across, Tara turned around and headed for her bike. As she straddled it, she noticed the redhead had followed her and was currently looking at the marred paint on the bike's body.

Willow ran her fingertips over the scratched surface, stopping when she reached the soft leather covering Tara's knee. She smiled seductively. "You know," she moved her finger so that it was now drawing circles on the blonde's thigh. "...Seeing that I damaged your, um, ride. What do you say you let me take care of that paint job?"

Tara couldn't believe it. She wanted to be mad at the redhead's teasing but found it impossible to ignore the throbbing she was beginning to feel between her legs. She shook her head and brushed the offending hand away. "Do that again and I'll kick your ass so hard you won't be able to ride anything for weeks."

With that, the blonde was gone leaving a stunned redhead behind.

"This championship suddenly became really interesting..." Willow whispered, taking a final sip of the bubbly liquid in hopes that it would clench her sudden thirst.

Michael Jones' nodded at his crew, letting them know he was ready to deliver his race recap. He watched the camera-man count with his fingers and finally point at him, signalling that he was on the air.

"The Blue Tornado takes over the Suzuki Superbike Challenge in Fontana, California and adds career victory 42 in an intensely competitive duel with Red Flame's Willow Rosenberg. This time, Tara held the hard-charging Crimson Tide at bay by leading every lap. The rivals continued to tear apart their competition, making it clear that close racing was the theme for the day. They easily pulled away from everyone ...except from each other."

The previously recorded footage showed the redhead's bike unsuccessfully trying to find a way past Tara's machine.

"Rosenberg almost had a chance during lap 14 when Maclay had to maneuver to avoid a small puddle, but the Tornado recovered quickly," the reporter informed, his voice trying to convey the excitement of the moment. "After that, Rosenberg had her hands full battling off William 'the Bloody' for second until lap 28 when she got back in tight behind Maclay and followed her across the finish."

"We have the winner's words on her victory," he said looking straight at the camera. Images of a smiling, tanned blonde filled the screen.

"It's awesome. I feel like right now I'm doing the best I can and riding as hard as I can. Red Flame kicked our butts last week and we needed to rebound today. We got off to a decent start and I really hope it was as good on TV as it felt down there," Tara pointed to the circuit. "I tried to get into a rhythm and click the laps away and I ended up with a first place, Mike." The blonde turned to face the camera and flash her trademark lop-sided grin.

"And that she did, Sean. As always, it was a pleasure to see her ride," the camera focused on him as his camera-man signalled they only had 20 seconds of air time. "Maclay came to checkers 9.13 seconds ahead of Rosenberg and 17.2 seconds ahead of third. The championship chase closes to within five points. Back to you in the studio, Sean."

From the distance, Willow watched as the blonde walked back to her paddock. She was mesmerized by the sway of her hips in low-cut, faded jeans and the grey zip hoodie that showed her ample cleavage. The redhead had been about to board the team van back to the hotel when she saw the rider being interviewed by the sports channel. She motioned for her teammates to leave without her. There was something she needed to do before leaving the Speedway. When the redhead reached the paddocks, she was surprised to see Tara mounted on a copper & black Harley-Davidson, adjusting her fingerless gloves.

"You must really love motorcycles. You spend hours on one at work and you ride them for pleasure too?" The redhead stopped within a few feet from Tara, her hands stuck in the back pocket of her black leather pants.

The blonde was dumbfounded to see her rival. It was starting to get dark and she had assumed everybody was on their way to either celebration parties or their hotels by now. She met Willow's gaze and stiffened. She was confused by the mixed signals the redhead kept sending her. She was still angry about her behaviour last week and yet she couldn't help feeling drawn to the smaller woman like a magnet. She knew better than to let her confusion compromise her job, but she had to admit she wanted to submit to the allure of the stranger.

Willow saw the twinkle in Tara's eye and decided to take a chance. She closed the distance between them and when Tara failed to respond to her closeness, she once again placed her hand on the blonde's knee. The blonde leveled her with a penetrating glare and grabbed her roughly by her leather jacket.

"I told you not to do that again," Tara threatened.

Willow felt her stomach tighten with fear and desire. She couldn't read Tara's expression so she responded in the only way she could: she grabbed Tara's hoodie, bringing their faces closer. "What are you gonna do about it, Tornado?"

Tara couldn't think, she was intoxicated by the feel of Willow's warm breath on her face. She tightened her hold on the redhead as she brought their lips together with passionate urgency. It took the smaller woman a second to realize what was happening, but when she did, she brought her hands to the back of Tara's head, urging her closer. The blonde parted her lips to run her warm tongue over Willow's bottom lip, earning a moan from the redhead.

Willow pressed her torso into the blonde as she felt her hands softening their grip on her jacket and moving downwards to grab a hold of her slim hips. The redhead gripped a strong arm and lifted her leg to straddle the blonde on the bike. Once there, Willow wrapped her leather-clad legs around Tara's waist, their bodies melting together as they continued to kiss.

A moment later Tara broke the kiss to look into Willow's green eyes. She needed to feel this woman; to taste her skin. Her lips moved to the red head's chin and from there she started a trail down the pale neck. Tara felt the smaller woman tremble as her nimble fingers lowered the zipper on the redhead's jacket, exposing a black tank top. Her warm hands worked the jacket off Willow's shoulders, revealing a sea of tiny freckles. Tara placed soft kisses on both shoulders before running her tongue back up Willow's neck. As she reached the petite earlobe she moved her hands to the front of the redhead's pants, cupping Willow's heat through the softness of her pants.

Willow threw her head back as strong hands held her intimately. Her body was playing by instinct and she brought her hands down Tara's chest until her fingertips trailed over a pair of hard nipples. The growl in her ear made her buck her hips against the blonde's hand. She stiffened when she felt Tara's hand fumbling with the button and unconsciously grabbed the blonde's wrist, stopping any further movement. Tara pulled back, disconcerted, her heavy panting a testimony to her arousal. Disappointed blue eyes searched Willow's green ones and she was surprised when she didn't find rejection in them, only pure, unadulterated lust.

"Let me do that," the redhead whispered as she brought her hands to her fly. She slowly undid each of the four buttons, her eyes never leaving Tara's. When she was done, she grabbed the blonde's hand and kissed the palm. Then she brought their foreheads together as she dragged the blonde's hand down her chest and past her abdomen, letting it slide under the elastic of her panties. Tara's breath hitched in her chest and she closed her eyes.

"Are you sure?" The blonde asked, her voice a mere whisper.

Willow responded by bucking her hips forward, effectively sliding the blonde's hand further between her legs. Tara moaned as her fingertips contacted the abundant wetness and her left arm immediately embraced the redhead's waist. She pulled the smaller woman closer to her as she began teasing the hard bud at the apex of Willow's sex. Feeling the redhead squirm under her touch was driving her crazy. The moans became louder and Tara inched a bit lower to tease the redhead's opening. Again, Willow's hips bucked forward, engulfing one of Tara's long fingers.

Tara looked up as she withdrew from Willow's core. She bit her bottom lip as she coated the rest of her fingers with the redhead's essence, pressing two fingertips to her opening. The blonde brought her lips to the Willow's ear, licking it softly.

"I'm gonna make you come, Willow." Tara whispered as she slid her fingers inside the warm channel. Willow groaned as she began rocking to Tara's steady rhythm, she knew she was very close...it wouldn't take long. She braced herself as she felt the tension building in her lower belly spread, finally exploding into a multitude of muscle spasms throughout her core. Tara slowed her ministrations, riding the remnants of Willow's orgasm. She removed her fingers when she felt Willow's spasms subside and brought the limp woman close to her chest, kissing her tenderly.

"Are you ok, Will?" The blonde asked as she ran her hands through the redhead's hair. She lifted the smaller woman's chin to look into her eyes. She was treated to a sweet, satisfied smile.

"I feel awesome, and you're perfect, and can we do that again?" The redhead wiggled her eyebrows.

Tara's laughter filled the paddock. "Hold on, stud. First, I recall you saying something about taking care of a paint job?"

Willow blushed furiously and Tara felt her insides melt at the redhead's cuteness. She wrapped her arms around the blonde's neck to kiss her ear. "Take me home, babe. I'll take care of that paint of yours..."