And see, there's something you have to understand. This was all before the flash flood.

–

9AM

They're already lost. Which wouldn't normally be an issue–you know, file that under 'we're not here to make good time, we're hear to have a good time'–except they're not actually having a good time, because Lightning is lost and Sally didn't want to go camping in the first place.

"I thought you were gonna take this time to unwind," says Sally. She trails behind him obligingly, the epitome of cool. There's a 50/50 chance she knows exactly where they are, and she's just not telling him.

Lightning sighs. "This is unwinding! That's what camping is for. You know, unplug, conquer nature."

"I don't think you're supposed to conquer nature. 'Commune with,' maybe," Sally points out. "Where'd you get that from, anyway? A book? Please don't tell me this whole obsession is just because you read some book."

"Instagram," Lightning admits. "Cruz showed me a– Oh hey, I think that's our road!"

–

11AM

It was not their road.

–

12PM

"I didn't say I thought your sense of direction was bad! I just think you're too used to always knowing where you're going, so you forget to think about it."

"Were you like, a Girl Scout back in LA or something? Is this whole 'I don't want to go camping' thing some kind of reverse-psychology–"

"Have I ever told you how attractive I find paranoia? Because wow–"

"See, now I can't tell if you're actually upset with me or not."

Sally laughs. "Stickers, relax. That's what camping is for, right? Besides, we're still lost, so we're not actually camping yet. This is just. You know. Driving."

–

1PM

"I think I'm allowed to shout if there's a tractor in the middle of the forest. It snuck up on us! Besides, what's it even doing out here?!"

–

3PM

They've departed the forest. Now the canyon walls tower, blazing orange against the sharp blue of the sky. It's narrow, comfortingly so–like the walls of a building, or even a cathedral. The stone, too, is a comfort beneath them after the unpredictability of the woodsy humus, and Lightning would be lying if he said that deep mud of any kind didn't trigger memories of a certain school bus of death.

"This is nice, right?" Lightning glances at Sally.

Sally doesn't need to voice her agreement. Of course it is.

"And we wouldn't have been able to make it down here if we wanted to get back home tonight," Lightning reasons.

Sally's not willing to go that far. "Oh, I think there are probably more direct routes down here. You know, secret shortcuts–well-marked by signs and printed on your map. No, don't give me that face– Stop! Stop, you know it makes me– I'm trying to– Stop!" Lightning nuzzles her fender. Sally stifles a ticklish giggle. "I'm trying to get you to loosen up!"

"Okay, mission accomplished." He smiles as he brushes down her side, a light and unpredictable feather's touch. Sally bats him away with her rear tire and plants a kiss on his lucky sticker.

"Shall we stake out our stargazing position?"

"Oh, good idea. Better beat the crowds. Looks like there's gonna be a lot of competition for those prime spots."

–

5PM

"Do you wanna build a campfire?"

"Oh. I, uh. I don't know how."

"Me neither."

–

6PM

They sip treats from home as the sun goes down. It slips out of the slot canyon first, burnishes its flat top and all the sky above. The clouds are thick, dark bottoms bruising as the last of the sunlight turns their tops almost phosphorescent.

"You think it'll rain?"

"I hope not."

"If it does, will it make you wish you had a roof over your head?"

"You really aren't enjoying this, are you? We didn't have to come. I just thought–"

"Lightning. We went over this! Remember relaxing? Besides, if I didn't want to do this with you, I can guarantee you I wouldn't have come. Who exactly do you think you're dating?"

"But you don't even like camping."

"Sure," Sally allows. "But you'd never been. And it's one night–it's not a big deal. Plus, this really is beautiful. I mean that. I guess I just worry that–"

"That, what?"

"That you won't like camping, either. I know you have this idea of it in your head, but–"

"I just wanted–"

"I don't want you to be disappointed. I just– I always want–"

"–tonight to be memorable. Because I–"

"–for what's out here in the world to be as good as it looks in your head. Because that's so you, you know? And I–"

"–love you."

–

7PM

"Hey. What you said earlier. What's so special about tonight?"

Lightning laughs nervously. He hadn't thought about needing a reason. "We don't get to see each other that much. I guess I just wanted to make something of the time, you know? So we can look back and think, that's what we did that weekend. I don't want it to just be like, oh, we existed."

Sally looks ever so slightly disappointed by this explanation. But that vanishes quickly enough. "That makes sense," she says. "But you know, all you have to do to make a weekend memorable is show up. You don't need to bring a magic carpet. Where's this coming from, anyway?"

Maybe it's the nature of canyons to make you honest, or maybe it's the sunset. Whatever the case, Lightning says, "I feel like there's no possible way I could give you everything I want you to have."

"Lightning–"

"But I figure I gotta try."

–

8PM

"So, how's the crew chiefing going?"

"You know what you said about the directions, and like–I'm so used to knowing where I'm going I forget I don't know where I am? Kinda like that."

Sally edges closer. She's running her heater, her metal pleasantly warm. "I'm sure you're doing fine," she says.

"She's really good."

"And how's Cruz spending her vacation?"

Lightning rolls his eyes. "Roadtripping down to Peru with Danny, then backpacking Macchu Picchu."

Sally whistles. "Kids these days."

"But… this is nice, too, right?"

"LIGHTNING."

–

9PM

"How's the Cone?"

"We were just there. Less than thirteen hours ago."

"It's only been thirteen hours?!"

"Hey, don't undersell that. Do you remember that one time–"

"Yes, of course! Mack should never have agreed to that. It was so–"

"Well, you can't help Mack being a hopeless romantic." Sally eyes him playfully. "Think about it. That was one breakfast. Then you turned back around and you were off again. And even that was memorable."

–

10PM

"Remember that time your distributor changed their carpet brand? You were so mad you–"

"They didn't match anymore! What's the point of being newly refurbished if nothing matches?"

"I mean, it's been a decade. Maybe it's time to re-newly refurbish! Put some iPod docks in, hang some mason jars–"

–

12PM

Sally is falling asleep against him. "You're okay, right?" she asks drowsily.

"Um, yes?" Lightning answers.

"That's something I wonder about, you know," Sally continues, the words muffled by Lightning's body and the haziness of slumber. "Like, did he not call because he's busy, or did he not call because there's actually something he wants to talk about."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Mmm, it does. I know you."

Lightning looks up at the sky–full clouds. So much for sleeping under the Milky Way. But he supposes it doesn't matter much, since when you're asleep you can't do much stargazing anyway. The whole concept is flawed. "Would you be happier if I were home? If I weren't–"

She's supposed to be asleep. It's a question he wants to ask but is afraid to know the answer to, and she's supposed to be asleep. But she's not–not quite. "I would never ask you to do that," she says. "We'll get there when we get there."

Then she's asleep.

"Don't try to read the map," she mumbles, some minutes later, when her breath is slow and warm and comforting over his hood. But that, too, Lightning figures, makes a lot of sense.

"I know," he says. And he gives her an experimental jostle, to make sure she's really asleep this time. "I just feel like I can't ask you to marry me unless I know for sure that I can give– That I am–"

–

1AM

Enough.

–

2AM

He is. He knows this. Because he knows Sally, and he knows what they are together and he knows exactly how much he loves her. How much she loves him. He knows all of this.

But if there's anything that can throw that all out the window (if they had windows right now, Lightning thinks morosely. Its cold out here, and unlike Sally, he doesn't have a heater)–

If there's anything that can throw that all out the window, it's a proposal.

Even though it's just four words.

–

3AM

Lightning has decided he does not like camping. He's also decided that if he ever gets the urge to sleep outside, there's a perfectly good impound lot back in town.

Oh, and it's started to rain.

Cruz has one of Hamilton's ringtones set to the sound of rain. Not her wake-up alarm–her 4PM alarm. The one that reminds her to take time to meditate.

How rain helps meditation, Lightning's not sure, because all he's really known it to do is cancel races and turn tracks green, which is a holy pain when it's a race you know you have to lead early, or not at all. Rain also makes mud. Which again, Lightning still hasn't quite recovered from–

He feels water under his tires.

Not puddles, but water, moving, water in rivulets. Then water in an even sheet, moving westward through the canyon.

Moving fast.

"Oh no. Sally–" Lightning jostles her tire urgently. "Sally–!"

Already, the water's up to his hubcaps. And he can hear it now–the rest of it. It sounds markedly less meditative than rain.

"What'sit?" Sally yawns.

"Uhhhh–"

The water rushing around her does the talking for him. Lightning's engine roars to life, the sound dancing against the surface of the water, and so does Sally's.

"LET'S JUST SAY THIS WEEKEND IS ABOUT TO GET REALLY, REALLY MEMORABLE."

–

9AM (again)

"I knowed you was gonna take Holley's advice!" Mater crows. Then he recites, "For optimal and most expedient intelligence, always conduct your interrogations in the heat of battle."

"Battle?!" Lightning exclaims, incredulous. But it's an actual question. He feels half-dead and very, very damp; it's entirely possible he missed a crucial part of this conversation.

"Your battle against nature!" Sarge supplies.

"You don't conquer nature," Fillmore objects. "You comm–"

Sally sneezes.

Mater leans into Lightning conspiratorially. "Now I personally've never thought much about proposals bein' like interrogations, but now that I done some of that thinking I do see the resemblance! That flash flood was a nice touch!"

Lightning blanches.

"So what'd you say?" Ramone asks Sally.

Sally settles her towel more evenly down her back. "Um. I said yes."

Red honks and Lizzie, begrudgingly, dispenses quite a bit of cash.

"When! Is the wedding!" Luigi asks. It's more of a shout than an inquiry. He bites his lip to keep from exclaiming more.

Sally looks at Lightning, and Lighting looks at Sally, and the say, in unison, "We're not in any rush to decide."

"So you're one of those couples," Sarge grumbles. Which Fillmore meets with, "Of course, as an institution, marriage is really only–"

Luigi frowns. "Guido, he say he cannot take this kind of suspense for much longer. Luigi agrees."

–

9PM (finally)

They are safe and sound in a very cozy cone.

"You know," Sally says off-handedly.

"Mm," says Lightning, when she doesn't continue.

"Flash flooding. That's pretty dramatic. But I don't know if I actually remember much of it? Blind panic isn't, I dunno. It's not all that specific."

"We can do it again if you wanna reinforce the trauma," says Lightning. Sally smacks his nearest headlight.

"Oh, shush," she says. Then, after a moment, she adds, "I'll remember this part, though."

The radio's abuzz with a song neither of them know; it's set so low Lightning can still hear the streamers on Sally's fan as they slap against themselves. She strokes one of his tires with her own.

"I'll remember this exactly."