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„Stupid fucking Security Rules“, Y/N mouthed, buttoning their shirt up. The crisp blue and yellow fabric would soon be entirely sweat through, that was for sure. Their black linen trousers were the most airy thing allowed under safety rules, yet felt still too covering and heat retaining. They sighed once again, placing some bobby pins between their pursed lips. Coarse fingers grabbed each of them, in use of pinning their fringe up and out of the way. With the heat coming, sticky forehead hair would only be an issue. A load of hairspray that was sufficient to destroy the earths ozone layer, was the last step to get their hair out of the way. Seeing that the familiar team cap would rest on their head anyway, Y/N didn’t bother more in that regard.
They placed their badge around their neck, visibly reading “Renault Formula 1 Team Medic Y/N L/N”.
Knowing what was to come, Y/N were not jumping around in joy as they entered the car of another crew member, ready to head to the Track. Bahrain was hot, incredibly hot. Temperatures edging the 40°C Mark were announced before the race and definitely the truth currently. The team member sighed as well, emptying another water bottle.
With 2005 looking like a Championship Year for Renault, Y/N had to make sure their drivers would survive the race. Reaching the race track was however war in itself, with fans crowing outside. Y/N would tiredly wave their hands out of the window in hopes of shooing them away. “Shit”, proclaimed the car’s driver – Mike, the breakguy. Mike was tasked with all things breaks, he had to weigh them before and after races to measure their corrosion, to watch them during the race and tell the mechanics of breakage and measure their temperatures during the stops. He’d always tell Y/N that break discs were nicer than caring for Humans. Afterall, they didn’t rebut advice or act unnecessarily careless with their own bodies. He had taking a quick look in the rearview mirror, though just a second to late.
Some ‘fan’ had stolen the team cap of Y/N’s head, unveiling the bobby pins that were messily strung together. Y/N just scoffed, rolling the window back up before leaning back. “Stupid fuckers”, they cursed, patting down the now ruffled strands. ‘Hopefully the team has some laying around, otherwise Flavio’s gonna be mad again. He hates things that aren’t good appearance wise.’
Mike parked the car as close as could, shuffling around the boot to get out his backpack and Y/N’s workbag. Slinging it over the shoulder, he huffed loudly. “God, these fans are getting out of hand. We’ve had so much teamwear stolen by now – I wonder how other team’s are coping. I bet Ron Dennis is unhappy about them getting crumbly and muddy”.
As they approached the garage, an unhappy face already stood aside. Pat Symmonds, their Technical Director was talking angrily to a few of the mechanics. Apparently he had screwed up quite badly with something – not that it was of matter to Y/N. They fumbled around their bag to fish out a towel. Renault branded of course. Pouring water on the towel provided it as lovely cold recourse once placed on their own head, but also hid the hat-lessness from Flavio if he were to appear out of nowhere. A skill the otherwise loud Italian man knew better than one would expect him to.
Y/N ducked in the back of the garage searching through the shelves in hope of finding anything. A hat was important as team gear but also as sunshade in this demanded climate. The garage proved to be fruitless however, so Y/N made their way over to hospitality, still hidden under their fluffy frotté head covering. The ladies behind the coffee counter were positively buzzing, their updos looking good despite the horrible weather. Flavio always had beautiful ladies work there and many mechanics would appear in hospitality, trying to fight for their numbers. Y/N on the other hand was a happy sight as they’d usually just ask for an Latte Macchiato and chatter about recent drama.
“Nice to see you Y/N!” the fronting one exclaimed.
“Nice to see you too, Monique!”, Y/N expressed before leaning onto the counter.
“Has Flavio passed by recently? I hope not.”
“If it has to do with your fancy new headdress, he hasn’t. Might want to ask Zanarini whether there’s still a cap ins storage. He just got one for Giancarlo. His got stolen as well apparently.”
The medic sighed before downing a cup of coffee given to them by Monique. “I’d better hurry, I’ve got to check Fisicella and Alonso over soon. Bye Monique!”
“Bye-Bye Y/N!” she waved cheerfully before giving her colleagues a snicker. Something bad must be going on they’d hear of later.
Trotting through hospitality with tired feet, Y/N soon spotted Enrico Zanarini standing to the side, his phone perched up. Being Fisicella’s Manager must have been a tiring job for sure. They approached the hard working man slowly, making sure he was not in a call or anything.
“Ah, Y/N. I presume you also got caught by the hat thieves, am I right in that assumption?” was his greeting. The medic just nodded. “I’m sorry to ruin your day now, but I got the last one out of storage. It seems someone snuck in overnight and emptied our warehouse here. I wonder what’s wrong with the people today.”
With their head hanging low, Y/N trotted back to the garage, knowing that Flavios scolding was inevitable by now. On the way the bumped into another person, blinking twice to notice they had run into Fernando.
“Good Morning Y/N, you’re late to the check-up.”
“I know, I know, Fernando. I’ve been on a treasure hunt the last hour. Some idiot stole my cap but we don’t even have a single one left.”
The driver lifted his eyebrows. “Not a single one?”
“None. The others all seem to have theirs so I’m the only one getting chewed out by Flavio.”
Fernando seemed to ponder for a while before settling onto Y/N’s office chair.
“Doctor, please proceed with your check-up.”
Y/N started their work, taking measurements and jolting down Fernandos health data.
“Please remember to drink a lot for this GP, I know the heat is horrible. It’ll be worse after the Race. I’m going to check up on you and get you both hydrated before the Press conference. Can’t have you fall on your face from heat exhaustion.”
“Us both? How are you so sure I’m landing on the Podium?”
“I just know, Fernando. Trust me. But something is telling me it’s not going to end well for Giancarlo…”
“You sure you aren’t Magic Alonso with these visions?”
“Maybe. Now zoom off. Fisi is waiting and I still gotta report to Flavio.”
Fernando stood up from his chair, eying the medic again. Finally, he lifted the cap from his head and placed it on theirs. “Look. Problem fixed, right?”
“Fernando, you’re our face! Wear it yourself!”
“I won’t” he chuckled while crossing his arms. “I can’t stand you looking so sad. Especially if I can fix it so easily, no?” He turned towards the door. “I’ll be going now. See you later!”
Y/N settled onto their chair with another sigh, though one team cap richer. Fisi was already standing in the door with his trademark grin. “Enrico told me you were looking for a cap. Seems you stole one yourself?”
This day would only grow longer.
As the race started and Y/N sat in the garage, monitoring stats and news relayed to them from the Pitwall to check on their drivers. With Fisicella coming in after Lap 3’s engine failure, work was sure to arrive. They took his stats again, got him equipped with nutritious drinks and snacks while also handing his Manager stuff for a bath. Exact instructions regarding temperature and procedure were added along with it. Since the race was still ongoing, they couldn’t care for the driver themselves which was unfortunate but Fernando needed full attention now. Soon after Michael Schumacher overshot a corner with apparent car issues, leaving one of their top contenders ouf of the race. Y/N was on the edge of their seat, attention at it’s peak. Fernando was doing well, staying cool despite the horrible heat. He kept drinking which was very good. His pitstop on Lap 20 went very well, he looked all right in the car as well.
As the race progressed and Fernando stayed on top of the Leaderboard, his victory lap around the track was lovely to watch. Seeing him do that bunny ear gesture in the car was always an amusing sight. Y/N rushed out with the Crew towards Parc Fermée to catch their lucky driver exiting his car, stepping on top and gesturing towards the sky. His race suit was entirely sweat through, his face red but his smile was real.
He headed up to the cooldown room, with Jarno Trulli and Kimi Räikkönen behind him. Y/N was following along as well, equipped with a coke can and some wet towels. Their exasperated winner slid tiredly on the floor, leaning back but still smiling like the sun incarnate.
“Here, Fernando” Y/N said, handing him the Coke Can. He deserved such a treat after this tiring race. They took the towels, helping Fernando get the sweat of his face and hair while also stopping it from burning. After a while, the call came to step outside. Fernando headed towards the Podium, pumping his arms and cheering loudly while Y/N kept looking from beside, happy for their driver.
Getting shooed off to the press conference afterwards kept Fernando away from Y/N who meanwhile prepared everything to get him going again. Watching the conference on TV was quite amusing – Jarno looked like a wet dog, Fernando lost his color and Kimi was beet red.
As the conference finally ended, Fernando tiredly stumbled into his driver’s room. His steps had gotten weaker as he finally arrived, sinking onto his sofa. Y/N was quick to arrive, smiling at him with their teeth showing. “Congratulations Nando, that was a good race!”
The tired driver faintly nodded as he leaned back, just breathing in. The adrenaline was slowly leaving his body as Y/N handed him his sports drink. “Let’s get you back in shape, right?”
Shortly after, Fernando was bathed, properly dressed and back on his sofa, looking way less haggard. Y/N sat behind him, bobby pins placed between their lips again. A soft brush was holding his locks back as they got put into a short ponytail, barely enough to keep it out of his neck from scrubbing at the now very sensitive skin. Y/N placed a few Bobby Pins in strategic fashion to keep the shorter hairs out of his face, to stop it irritating his eyes. Fernando just sighed in relief as the hair stopped bothering him. “You were right with your prediction” he said.
“Hmm?” Y/N mouthed, still busy.
“With Giancarlo not finishing and me winning. You truly are the real Magic Alonso.”
Y/N laughed softly, patting his shoulder before placing his last Bobby Pin.
“It was your work as much as mine.”
As they were finishing, Y/N lifted the cap from their head, wanting to place it back on Fernandos. The driver however grabbed the medics arm, stopping them from finishing their action.
“Don’t. Keep it. It’s yours now my friend. I know you’ll bring me luck wearing it.”
He lifted the blue Fabric before placing it on the crown of Y/Ns head again. “Please, bring me more luck in the future.” He said, his grin cheeky.
Y/N turned to the side, not wanting him to see their reaction. “Shut up you stupid roasted Paprika.”
“Pimientos asados, eh? Sounds like a great Idea. Let’s get some” he laughed, getting up and pulling Y/N behind him.