What a Drag

The usual no-owning fanfic disclaimer stuff. This story came about in a feverish blast of creativity from a bunch of Motorcity fans.

The line at the Duke of Detroit's door was weirdly long and feverish. Mike didn't know the details all that much. He'd heard a rumor from one of Jacob's rare customers that The Duke was doing something big, and that it involved a drag race, and that it was open invitation. Everybody meant everybody, too, as a few familiar faces passed him as they reached the front and left the line. Rayon and a bunch of his Skylarks, the Amazons, the Weekend Warriors, those robot-fighting chuckleheads that Texas was involved with once, along with a few folks Mike only knew from the gossip mill like the rich families and the old dude Motorcity unofficially called The Mayor. In retrospect, he probably should have been suspicious when so many people that didn't give a rat's ass about cars were showing up and leaving the line, but he was too excited. Long as the line was, it was moving fast. He'd grabbed Chuck and Dutch because they were around and he hated waiting in line by himself, and despite Dutch's worries that they were in a line for who-knows-what and Chuck's general being Chuck, Mike was certain everything was going to be great.

He was wrong, of course, but he didn't know that yet. He was just psyched to finally be at the front of the line, and he smiled easily for the doorman. "Hey. Mike Chilton and the Burners, here to sign up for the drag race."

"Not race," said the door man. "Drag party. Three days from now. In or out?"

"Drag party?" Mike checked with Chuck and Dutch, who gave him matching shrugs. "You... mean you're inviting people over to watch a drag race?"

"No race," said the door man. He started to scowl. "Drag party. In, or out?"

"Mike, this is feeling a little weird," said Dutch. "Maybe we should go home."

"COME ON, Number 3!" The booming voice made Mike reflexively flinch. Please not him, he was looking forward to just putting in his request and leaving, he did not want to talk to the Duke of Detroit in person. The voice kept coming from every direction, putting him on edge. "You can't just ask! You gotta SELL IT!"

If The Duke excelled at anything, it was "selling" himself. The whole front porch and half of the junkyard erupted in pyrotechnics, sending screams through the rest of the line and one particularly familiar one directly into Mike's right ear. Electric guitars screamed from hidden speakers. The front doors flew open with a bang, enough to ruffle his jacket, and the doorman fell flat onto his face as the Duke of Detroit emerged from the mansion. Arms wide open, feet planted, legs spread, crotch out as usual, the Duke of Detroit was never a man for subtlety. He spoke in a shout as if addressing the whole crowd, even with his shades planted square on Mike. "Oh look! It's the Burners! The tender little lambs have come all the way out for their first big boy parties!"

If The Duke was going to hit Mike, he probably could have tracked him. But Mike never knew where The Duke was going when he made those grand, sweeping moves out of his line of sight. His answer came only with Dutch and Chuck's squawks of protest behind him; when Mike turned, The Duke had an arm each around their shoulders. Dutch was peeved. Chuck looked like he was about to shake out of his skin. The Duke only grinned and pulled them closer. "All these tender little babyfaces! I almost feel like I have to card you! You're what, sixteen, little Mikey?"

Mike nearly snarled. Nearly. He couldn't let on that 'Mikey' was only for- anyway. Mike kept his face stony. "Twenty."

"Oh perfect! Then you're eligible for the big prize!" The Duke of Detroit released his captives to open up one flap of his coat. Inside, rolled into his pocket and stuffed about halfway in, was a blueprint. The paper was unmistakable, and even then, he half unrolled it to let Mike see a tantalizing peek of... something. He couldn't make out the entire thing. "First place in the contest gets the plans for the unlimited power source! Enough energy to power ALL of Motorcity! Or maybe just render it into a little tiny ember under Detroit Deluxe. Any way you want it."

Chuck and Dutch gasped. A shudder went up Mike's spine. That couldn't be! That was something they'd handled over a year ago, dropping the damaged power core into the Motorcity Doom Jump! How'd The Duke get the plans from Doctor Hudson? It had to be a setup. Mike called him out on it. "You're making that up."

"How do you know?" The Duke tucked the plans away. "Who's to say it's not?"

"Because if it was," Mike guessed, "You wouldn't be betting it on a drag race."

"WOW! Okay, Number 3, I take it back." The Duke slammed his hands down on Mike's shoulders and bowed his head down. "The little babies are too ignorant to join the party. Excellent gatekeeping job. You can escort them-"

"All right, stop!" Mike snapped. "What is the contest? What do I have to do to win those from you?"

"Mikey!" Chuck whimpered. "What are you saying?!"

"Oh, dear sweet summer children." When The Duke raised his head again, it was with a wild smirk, and his eyes were peering out from behind his shades. "You win the drag contest. As in the 'dress in drag' contest. As in you put on your best bra and panties, lace up the pumps, slap on a miniskirt and high-tail it up here, dressed to the nines, and the sexiest motherfucker in the mansion gets the plans!"

"OH no!" Chuck wailed and started to leave. "Nononono! No! No!"

"You mean right up here?" asked Mike. "Your mansion. Inside. With everybody else."

The Duke lowered in sunglasses to get in a proper disbelieving look. "Cha?"

"We're in."

"We're WHAT?!" yelled Chuck.

Dutch protested, "What?! Mike, no, Mike- think about what you just said-"

The Duke gave him another grin. "We, Mr. Chilton?"

"All of us," said Mike. His shoulders were set, and his smile was on tight. "We. Are in."

It was a cool moment until he had to hear about it the entire way back to the garage. Chuck only gave him disapproving looks along with Dutch the whole walk back, but oh, once they were all in Mutt-

"We're IN?!" Chuck screamed. "You wanna go up to the Duke of Detroit in stripper clothes, THAT'S fine, Mikey, but WHY did you involve US?!"

"Like, I always thought Chuck was exaggerating when he said you just dragged him into doing crazy shit," said Dutch, "But now? NOW I believe him!"

"Why wouldn't you believe me?!" wailed Chuck. "Do you see what I have to deal with every day?!"

"Look," Mike defended, "It- it just sounded better, okay? I didn't wanna do it on my own."

"You could have STAYED home!" said Dutch. "You could have PLAYED Lazer Swords 3! Didn't we learn this?!"

Mike nearly flinched when Texas's call icon popped up over the dash. "Texas hears yelling and accusations! What happened?"

"Texas?" Mike's eyes went back to the road. "How'd you get on the line?"

In his peripheral vision, Mike saw Chuck's hand falling away from a key screen. "Texas, get Julie! She's gotta hear this."

Julie's icon popped on. "I already heard Texas yelling. What's up?"

"Guys?" Mike did not cower, he was just trying to stay closer to the door than the guys right now. "Can we not?"

Dutch leaned forward and into the call screen. "Oh no! Mr. 'We'-Are-Dressing-Up-In-Women's-Clothing is owning up to-"

"Mr. What?!" Julie's voice nearly cracked into a squeak, while Texas out-and-out started guffawing into the line. "What did you guys do?!"

Mike drove faster just to try and get Chuck and Dutch to scream instead of talk. It just made them talk louder, and it got them back to the garage faster, where Jacob's unbelieving laughter immediately clued Mike into the fact that he'd overheard everything. Great.

Mike did cower a little once Dutch and Chuck got out. "Are you guys mad?"

"No," and then Dutch 'patted' the back of his head so hard that his chin hit his chest.

"Ow."

"If this turns out to be a prank," said Chuck, his voice a weak warble after the hard drive, "I'm not riding shotgun with you anymore."

It was an empty threat, but the idea of it still hurt. Chuck knew where to hit. Mike followed up behind them, tail between his metaphorical legs, until he took the far seat at the counter while Texas and Julie got the end recap of what had happened.

Texas had a stupid dance at the ready. "Tiny got played~"

"Your ego's gonna get you in trouble one of these days," said Julie. "But there's no way The Duke has plans for Doctor Hudson's power cell thingy."

"But... it was so specific," said Mike. He was starting to feel a little terrible over this. Maybe The Duke had played him just to see the look on his face.

"This is that rock and roll guy with the limos, right?" Jacob asked. "I've got a call going in to Hudson now. He'll straighten all of this up for us, and once he tells us it's a false alarm, you can just skip out on the stupid party."

"The Duke's missing out!" Texas tossed his hair and flexed. "Texas was about to rock the muumuu."

Dutch's laughter spilled out of his mouth like bad soup. "Really? Didn't you hear us? It was going to the 'sexiest motherfucker at the party'. You were not gonna win with a muumuu."

Texas only hit another pose, one enough to make the zipper of his jumpsuit creak. "Do not underestimate the Power of Texas."

Chuck took a seat right next to Mike and sat themselves with their arms together. Dutch's scowl tempered off into a hearty laugh and a digression into something else to talk about, and Julie didn't even give it another look. Mike, wind knocked out of him, took a deep breath and let a little more weight fall on Chuck's upper arm.

"I, uh..." Mike sighed again. "Sorry I embarrassed you guys in front of- I mean... yeah. I wasn't thinking. The Duke just gets under my skin."

"More than most other guys, yeah." Chuck spoke quieter, just for Mike to hear. "But you're not alone with him, you know? We have your back, but-"

"But I overstepped, yeah. I'm sorry."

"As long as you know we all love you anyway. If the situation's really bad," Chuck confirmed. "Then we're all behind you, 100%. Even if it involves bras and panties."

That made Mike laugh. Oh man, that would've been a trip, wouldn't it? This would be a fun memory to look back on in the goofy times they'd shared together, although he was a little irked he told The Duke to his face that they would be there. Oh well. Served him right. The Duke would probably spend the whole party tense, waiting for them while the Burners stood him up like the chump he was.

Doctor Hudson's face flashed into view on a comm screen. "Jacob! I can't think- I got your call, but I'm terribly distracted! My lab has been ransacked! The notes- I was reassembling plans for my power core, and they were stolen last night!"

"They were what?!" Jacob wailed. The Burners all crowded the screen, watching in horror as Doctor Hudson panned out the camera to survey the broken and battered lab.

"I thought I could keep them safe by doing them on paper- that way my files couldn't be hacked! But something got in! I don't know how they found out, but-"

"I knew it!" Mike slammed his palm against the counter. "I fucking knew it!"

"You knew what?" Hudson pivoted back into view fast, pale and wrinkled with worry. "Do you know what happened to them?!"

"I do!" Mike shoved forward into the frame. "Don't worry, doc, I'll get them-"

"We..." Chuck put his hand forward, on top of Mike's. Every inch of his voice was dripping with anxiety and regret, but his hand was still there. "We'll get them back for you."

"ROCKIN' THE MUUMUU!" Texas's hand joined the pile. "GO TEXAS!"

"Oh my god, Mike." Julie put her hand in. "How do you get us into these things?"

"What's happening?" asked Hudson, very confused, on the other end.

Dutch covered the whole hand pile with his own. "Okay for the record, all of you? Are crazy. I'm still in. Now that this is actually a thing, we're taking it seriously."

"We've got three days to prepare." Mike took a deep breath. "We need heels. And skirts. Any of you know clothes?"

The thought hit him before anybody could answer him. They needed Claire.

This was going to be a rough three days.