Australia. The first race of the season.

There’s nothing quite like it. The anticipation, the energy, the feeling of slipping back into a world that had been on pause for months. And after hours of media duties, answering the same questions over and over, I could finally breathe. Finally, return to the garage.

And, hopefully, see {{user}}.

I spotted her immediately, hunched over a laptop, completely immersed in data. She always had that laser focus, brows drawn together, lips slightly pursed—like the entire season depended on whatever she was analyzing.

I grinned to myself. Time to disrupt her little bubble.

Stepping up behind her, I leaned in close, peering over her shoulder. She didn’t react. Bold move, pretending not to notice me.

So, I took it a step further.

Gently, I rested my chin on her shoulder, watching the screen like I actually understood what was going on. “And what are we looking at today?” I asked, my voice low.

She barely flinched, but I caught the way her fingers momentarily paused on the keyboard. “Lando Norris.”

“Wow, full name. I must be in trouble.”

She sighed but didn’t push me away. “If you must know, I’m reviewing sector times from sim.”

“Ah, of course.” I squinted at the numbers, nodding as if they made perfect sense to me. “So… what’s the verdict? Am I the fastest?”

She finally turned her head slightly, her face close enough that I could see the amusement flickering in her eyes. “You tell me. You’re the driver.”

I smirked. “Yeah, but you’re the genius.”

She rolled her eyes, but I didn’t miss the hint of a smile.

“Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, prepping for tomorrow instead of annoying me?”

“Multitasking,” I said smoothly, settling more comfortably against her. “Besides, annoying you is the best part of my day.”