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"I'm very proud of you, Marco. You and Albarosa have come so far. I remember when you just met each other at last year's Sepang tests, and look at you now, making an honest bike of her. I hope for good news in 9 or so months, yes?" Massimo winked.
"Children?" squeaked Bez. "Already? I was hoping to enjoy married life with Albarosa for a few years first, just the two of us."
Massimo looked deeply appalled. "Years?! I want a grandchild as soon as possible! God knows Jorge's not going to manage it this year, so it's all up to you."
(Even if Jorge weren't already making eyes at the Yamaha V4, he had no chance of getting past Q1 with his bike any time soon. He hadn't even named her.)
"Take your honeymoon first, of course," said Massimo graciously, "but after that — I can see the t-shirts already. Not 'Baby On Board', but 'World Championship On Board'. We'll use a picture of Albarosa pulling a baby carriage holding the trophy."
Oh.
Bez thought about it: laboring for the title every race weekend with Albarosa from March to November, from Thailand to Valencia. 9 months with his motorcycle, and the fruit of their union — a plaque on the Tower of Champions and the riders' trophy. If only the plaque could have Albarosa's name engraved as well.
And if Bez let himself dream bigger... he didn't think he could handle as many as Marc, but he'd love to have 2 or 3 riders' trophies of his own, all lovingly presided over by Albarosa in their living room.
"I'll do my best to get a championship on Albarosa this year," vowed Bez. He kissed her windshield lovingly. "We'll do everything we can to deliver you the title in 9 months' time."