Leather and Speed - Part One
Title: Leather and Speed - Part One
Author: Tittamiire
Fandom: SG1
Rating: PG13
Word Count: Total about 17,400
Categories: AU, First Time.
Summary: In this alternate universe SG1 are a sidecar racing team at the TT (Tourist Trophy) races on the Isle of Man. Janet, a Doctor there with St John, meets Sam for the first time when things don't quite go as planned. Written for the Sam/Janet Ficathon
Author note 1: I challenged myself to write Sam and Janet with sidecars on the Isle of Man for this ficathon. It was quite tricky and involved changing some nationalities to get it to work in universe. I hope it isn't too OOC for people.
Author note 2: It's rushed, which I apologise for. Life snuck up on me. I beg humbly for apologies and I will get it properly finished, betad and uploaded after the ficathon.
Doctor Janet Fraiser checked that her hair was tied back and not about to come snaking out around her face, checked that her tent was zipped firmly shut against the brisk sea breeze that threatened to bring rain in, again, and finally grabbed her motorbike helmet from the grass outside the tent.
'Matt?' She called at the tent next to hers. 'You 'bout ready?'
'Yeah,' he called from the tent before sticking his head out and blinking at her in the sunlight. 'I'm ready.'
'Then we can leave?' She asked.
'One second!' he called, dissapearing into the tent again.
Janet smiled to herself and went over to her bike. Matt was never on time. Matt was never ready when he said he was ready. However, they'd been friends for years and she was used to compensating for "Matthew time." She put her gloves on the saddle of her bike and put her helmet on while she waited for him.
He crawled out of his tent a minute or two later and zipped it shut behind him before looking for her with the slightly bemused look that was the normal expression for his face. He wandered over to the bike after spotting her and pulled his own helmet on. Janet pulled the cuffs on her jacket tight and reached for her gloves.
'Is just a practice tonight right?' He said as he fastened his chin strap.
'Yup,' Janet confirmed.
'Hopefully nice and quiet then.'
'That's the idea,' Janet said as she finished fastening her gloves. She swung her leg over her bike, stood it up, adjusted her backpack so that Matt could fit on behind her and then nodded to him.
'You know I always feel slightly ridiculous getting on a bike behind you,' he complained as he climbed on.
'And you complain about it every time. You could take the car.'
'I wouldn't be seen dead on four wheels during the TT,' Matt protested.
Janet smiled to herself.
Behind her Matt adjusted something and then took hold of the straps on the side of her jacket that were there to adjust the fit, but served well as handles too.
'Ready,' he said.
Janet started the bike and, after glancing over her shoulder, drove slowly off the grass pitch onto the track around the camp site and then onto the road, joining the many other cars and motorcycles who were probably off to the same practice session, even if not to do the same thing or to exactly the same place.
Janet parked the bike below where the road would be closed and walked up to Ballacraine corner, helmet swinging at her side. There was already a throng of Marshals and a young bobby, evening sun shining off his white helmet, all waiting for it to be time to close the roads.
Janet said hello to the Marshals she knew and nodded to those she didn't, and the bobby, who was new.
Gary and Sharon were already waiting around the corner with the ambulance. It was parked a little way from the junction and they were sat in the back while they waited. Gary was pouring tea from a large thermos.
'Alright?' Janet asked as she elbowed Sharon gently in the ribs until she too had room to sit down next to her in the back door of the ambulance. Matt propped himself up against the wall next to them.
'Aye,' Gary replied. 'Never thought I was going to get 'ere though. Traffic's mental tonight.'
'It is every night,' Sharon asked. 'Me, I just walk and enjoy the sunshine.'
'S'alright when you're only coming a hundred yards down the road. I've gotta get 'ere from Douglas.'
'You need better planning in your life,' Sharon informed him.
Gary handed Janet a mug of tea. She sipped at it. The sun shone straight down towards them, but they were shaded slightly by some trees. It was shaping up to be a lovely evening and, all being well, it would stay quiet.
'Good day at work?' She asked Sharon.
She shrugged, 'Yeah. Be better when we're closed next week. Evening practices are hard work after a full days work.'
'You never do a full days work,' Gary teased as he put the flask down and drunk some of his own tea.
'Aye Aye, Bobby's out,' He said, nodding past the ambulance to the junction. 'Traffic lights off already.'
'He's eager, there's fifteen minutes until the roads close,' Janet said, checking her watch.
Gary shrugged, 'He's new, maybe he just wants to practice directing traffic.'
'We should probably show willing,' Gary said, but not moving anywhere. He was in his late fifties and never appeared to do anything in a hurry unless he really had to.
They finished their tea and then picked the scoop stretcher and response kits out of the back of the ambulance to wander down to the junction with them. The bobby was in the centre of the crossroads directing each direction in turn, getting the junction clear of traffic.
'What ho,' the Chief Sector Marshall called to the four of them. 'Janet, darling, good to see you and your regulars are back for another year I see.'
'Hey up Macca you grumpy old bugger,' Janet said, giving him a hug and receiving a kiss on the cheek. 'How're numbers?' She asked, nodding towards the orange hivi vested Marshals still loitering on the corner until the traffic had stopped and they could set up properly.
'Good Good. You've got Phil and Biggles on rider duty with you if you need them. I hope not. Dave and Wayne have got bike duty, so don't trip over each other.'
Janet nodded. Macca wandered off to go bellow affectionate abuse at a late running Marshal while Janet and the paramedics wandered over to a bench to put their stuff down.
The road was a slightly wonky crossroads. The bikes would come along the straight bit of it and then turn right up at the junction, a bend that was about one hundred and ten degrees, to go hairing up to the next corner. Straight on at the junction was the run off area where bikes who broke down, or who couldn't make the corner, or who were called in for whatever reason, came in. It was where their ambulance sat, ready for if it was needed, and the team of marshals and Janet's paramedics sat in case there was a crash on any of the two hundred metres of track either side of the corner. The other road would fill with spectators, who would also line the hedges along the road either side of the corner too.
At six the bobby had cleared the junction and the roads closed ropes went up. The marshals hurried around, clearing the track and setting up bales and flag points. Janet watched them, picking out Phil and Biggles, both blokes she knew.
The travelling Marshals went round on their motorbikes, checking the course. One of them stopped at their corner and parked his bike behind their bench, he'd watch from here and be ready to go to an incident further along the course if needed. The travelling marshals were all experienced ex-racers who were on hand to respond to any problems. They were good blokes who knew what they were doing.
Janet tugged a ham sandwich from her bag and ate it, enjoying the sunshine. By ten past six the Marshals had done their job and the road was clear and ready to go. At twenty past six the first bikes on their practice laps left the start line.
Three and a half minutes later the first bike had reached them. Janet tugged her programme from her pocket and read through who was running in which classes. There were always the big names of course, they were worth looking out for for obvious reasons, but then down the running there were always some other riders to keep an eye on. Janet liked to watched the newcomers to the event, they often added something, and the female riders. There weren't many of them, but they had their fans. The races were the real spectacle, but Janet liked to pick out the riders to keep an eye on so she could recognise them in the races without needing to frantically look up their race number each time.
So she watched and noted the paintjobs and the leather and helmet colours on those she wanted to and then, by and large she relaxed while the riders came round on their first round of practice. She kept an eye out and an ear out, listening to the mostly 1000ccs, and a few 600s, out but it was the marshals whose job it was to watch for problems and run the course. She and her team were only needed if there was an incident and she would be very happy if all she did for two weeks was watch the bikes and work on her tan.
The solo practice passed without serious incident. A few people went straight on at the corner instead of around it having decided they were going too fast to make the corner. The flag marshal blew the whistle as warning, but none of them passed close enough to them for Janet to worry. She watched them turn in the run off area and get waved back onto the track by Macca.
There was a lull at seven fifty when the solo bikes stopped and then, at eight, the sidecars came out on their practice laps. Janet watched a little more closely. She liked the sidecars, they were interesting and they always had more women amongst the drivers and passengers than the solo riders did.
The riders were on their last lap of the evening when something about the sound of one of the sidecars as it came towards the corner made Janet's ears prick up. She looked up. She marshals were alert, more so than usual. They were mostly experienced marshals and they could tell when something was going to go wrong. She got up from the bench, almost at the same time as Gary, Sharon and Matt either side of her and peered towards the corner, hoping to see the driver of the sidecar save the corner. Unlikely given the speed they sounded like they were coming in with, but she hoped, somehow, that the crew was good enough to save it. They were breaking heavily and there was a chance.
They didn't save it. They were too fast and despite the passenger's best attempts to fling themselves over to the driver's side to weigh it down the sidecar was tipping up towards them. They seemed to hang for a moment in the air and then the fairing on the passenger's side caught and the bike span and nearly flipped up the road in a blur of white and blue leathers and orange newcomers bib, and out of Janet's line of view. She didn't need to see though, she heard the smack and crunch of the rig colliding with the bales along the wall and she was already running towards the scene.
'I've got the passenger,' she called to Gary who was a step behind her.
'Right,' he said, needing nothing more.
The passenger was, invariably, the one who was flung off the bike, the one who was usually the worst injured. The driver usually stayed on the bike where they had some protection from the fairing.
The passenger was in the bales, their feet visible beneath the top bales and not currently moving. The marshals were already at the crash, the yellow flag advising other riders that there had been an incident was waving. This was what Janet did, but bloody hell, every time she wished she could do it without sending her team out onto an active racetrack.
She and the marshal known as Biggles (she kept meaning to ask him what his name really was), lifted the bales off their casualty while Matt pulled open the immediate care case. The bales were, literally, hay bales inside woven plastic sacks and they weren't east to move around, but, with an injured person underneath she threw them around like they were nothing.
One of the other marshals grabbed the fallen bales from them and put them onto the course as a barrier between them and any oncoming rigs. Sure enough, they could hear the next sidecar already. Now that the passenger was clear of the bales Janet moved to their head and looked for their breath fogging their visor. The next sidecar screeched and wobbled noisily past them on the inside of the track a couple of feet from them with marshals frantically waving them to the inside of the track.
The passengers breath fogged and Janet felt a wave of relief. They were mostly on their side, pillowed against the lower bales underneath them. Janet patted them on the shoulder.
'Hello? Can you hear me?'
The passenger twitched as if surprised and moved looking up and around.
Janet reached forward and pushed their visor up. Blue and rather alarmed eyes blinked up at her. There was a second where the passenger seemed to be desperately trying to work out which way was up and then she was getting up, flailing slightly against the bales.
'Right, well, let's get you off the track,' Janet said, offering her a hand to help, sure she hadn't heard her, but talking nontheless. The passenger grabbed it with her left hand and Biggles darted in to help get her to her feet as gently, but efficiently, as possible.
'See if Gary and Sharon need a hand,' Janet told Matt. 'Passenger is okay.'
He nodded and moved up the hill. The passenger cradled her arm against her chest with her other and limped slightly, but she moved off the track. Janet kept at her side, staying between her and the sidecars still coming round only a few feet away.
The passenger glanced back at the mess that was the rest of the sidecar rig, presumably for the driver, but they weren't visible through the bales and the rest of the marshals trying to right the sidecar enough to get at him, or her.
Janet put her hand in the middle of the passenger's back and steered her into the run off area so she could sit down on the bench there and Janet could check her out properly.
'What hurts?' She asked.
'Side, ribs, wrist, shoulder,' the woman said, looking like she was in pain and concentrating on it.
She left the woman's arm and ribs for now, and after further questions about her head and back, decided to take her helmet off, which she did for her, fingers fumbling briefly with the seat belt catch on the strap. She eased the helmet up and off with the passenger's assistance from her good hand and then turned it over in her hand, looking at it the damage on it. There was scuffing and some gouges. Janet knew she had hit her head, but it didn't look extensive. She'd seen much worse.
She put it down on the bench next to the passenger and gave her a slight smile. The woman had a sweaty mess of blond hair that was mostly in a braid. Some of her hair had escaped though and was stuck to the sides of her face by sweat. There was further noise from the track, other than the screech of side cars negotiating the corner, and the driver of the rig stomped around the corner with the walk of the thoroughly pissed off. He was shaking his head.
The rest of the Janet's paramedics were with him, though not supporting him, leaving the marshals to shift the rest of the sidecar rig from the track, which they were doing with some difficulty; the rigs were heavy and damages ones were difficult to wheel.
The passenger relaxed slightly upon seeing her driver walking towards them and finally took her eyes off the corner to look at Janet.
'Just the sore wrist and ribs?' Janet asked, clarifying.
The woman nodded, 'Yeah. I mean, I hurt in other places, but nothing feels like I've damaged it.'
'We'll airmed you. Get them checked out.'
She nodded. Janet reached for her radio and confirmed that Airmed would be needed, but wasn't urgent. It'd allow race control to decide to leave their casualties for later if they needed to. She hoped they wouldn't need to because that would mean someone else had crashed.
The driver reached them and dropped down onto the bench as well. Janet's paramedics dropped their stuff around the bench and, after establishing that the driver was fine and a nod of dismissal from Janet, retired to sit on the wall further down from the bench to quietly frak out at what had happened, chat, and in one case, have a smoke.
'You alright?' The driver asked.
His passenger nodded to him, but also nodded to indicated her arm. 'Sore, going to get it checked out.'
He nodded. 'I need a new helmet,' he said, pointing at it to indicate some of the scuffs. 'Left most of my paint job and a fair bit of my leathers on the road surface apparently.'
Janet glanced him over, seeing the massive scuffs on his leathers where he'd been on contact with the road and noticing, for the first time, the sponsors on both their leathers and helmet. There was only one RAF sponsored sidecar team, which meant that Janet now had names to put to faces.
'But you're alright?' Carter asked him.
'Yeah. Pride dented. Wish I could blame the bike, but that was my fault,' O'Neill said.
'Well we were having a problem with the head gasket,' Carter said. 'We were struggling to keep the pressure up.'
'Didn't mean I needed to do that,' O'Neill said gesturing up the road to where they'd crashed.
'Right, I have a lovely scoop stretcher here for you Carter,' Janet said to her casualty. Carter pulled a face, but stood up. The only way casualties fitting into the airmed was on a scoop stretcher as graceless as it was.
O'Neill removed his own helmet and rubbed his gloved hand through his short greying hair. As Janet walked over to fetch the scoop stretcher he leant in and muttered something to Carter that she couldn't here. The woman smiled slightly in response, as if amused.
Janet lay the stretcher down on the tarmac and gestured to it. Carter, holding her injured arm into her injured side, stood up carefully. Janet steadied her shoulders and helped her lie down onto the stretcher. Carter whinced as she eased herself down into a sitting and then lying position on the stretcher, steadied all the way down by Janet.
'Bit over the top just to get a ride in a helicopter Carter,' O'Neill commented dryly from the bench.
She glared at him.
'Gary, Sharon, Matt, your lifting assistance please,' Janet said as she clipped the straps holding Carter onto the stretcher shut and tightened them over her, patting her on her good shoulder reassuring. 'Biggles, Phil?' She called more loudly. 'Matt, fetch them for me,' she said she she couldn't see either man.
Lifting a stretcher needed several people, even without the need for one person at the head keeping the casualties neck immobilised. Once she had them assembled it was relatively easy to carry Carter to the helicopter landing point around the corner, wait for the pilot's signal and then load her in. She looked uncertain and faintly alarmed, especially as they approached the helicopter. Janet tried to give her a reassuring smile as well as directing everyone over the sound of the helicopter. They slid the stretcher in, the airmedic shut the door, Matt handed her helmet over to the pilot and then they scurried back out of the way as it took off.
While watching the helicopter take off and allowing herself to slip out of incident management mode and back to normality Janet realised that Samantha Carter was really rather attractive. She hoped she would get to bump into her again, though not because of a crash hopefully.
By the time Janet walked back to the corner O'Neill was looking at the sidecar outfit that had been dragged out of the way by the marshals.
'Is it going to be alright?' Janet asked, nodding towards the bike.
'I think it's mostly the fairing,' he said. 'We'll see what we can do tomorrow.'
'Best sit down out of the way,' she advised him. 'In case any other riders make any unplanned stops with us.'
The rest of the practice passed without incidence, which was the way Janet liked it. By the time the roads closed car there was a van waiting to collect O'Neill and the crashed sidecar. Two guys jumped out of it, one of them already loudly deriding him for having crashed.
Janet nodded to him as she walked past on the way to her bike.
Part Two
Author: Tittamiire
Fandom: SG1
Rating: PG13
Word Count: Total about 17,400
Categories: AU, First Time.
Summary: In this alternate universe SG1 are a sidecar racing team at the TT (Tourist Trophy) races on the Isle of Man. Janet, a Doctor there with St John, meets Sam for the first time when things don't quite go as planned. Written for the Sam/Janet Ficathon
Author note 1: I challenged myself to write Sam and Janet with sidecars on the Isle of Man for this ficathon. It was quite tricky and involved changing some nationalities to get it to work in universe. I hope it isn't too OOC for people.
Author note 2: It's rushed, which I apologise for. Life snuck up on me. I beg humbly for apologies and I will get it properly finished, betad and uploaded after the ficathon.
Doctor Janet Fraiser checked that her hair was tied back and not about to come snaking out around her face, checked that her tent was zipped firmly shut against the brisk sea breeze that threatened to bring rain in, again, and finally grabbed her motorbike helmet from the grass outside the tent.
'Matt?' She called at the tent next to hers. 'You 'bout ready?'
'Yeah,' he called from the tent before sticking his head out and blinking at her in the sunlight. 'I'm ready.'
'Then we can leave?' She asked.
'One second!' he called, dissapearing into the tent again.
Janet smiled to herself and went over to her bike. Matt was never on time. Matt was never ready when he said he was ready. However, they'd been friends for years and she was used to compensating for "Matthew time." She put her gloves on the saddle of her bike and put her helmet on while she waited for him.
He crawled out of his tent a minute or two later and zipped it shut behind him before looking for her with the slightly bemused look that was the normal expression for his face. He wandered over to the bike after spotting her and pulled his own helmet on. Janet pulled the cuffs on her jacket tight and reached for her gloves.
'Is just a practice tonight right?' He said as he fastened his chin strap.
'Yup,' Janet confirmed.
'Hopefully nice and quiet then.'
'That's the idea,' Janet said as she finished fastening her gloves. She swung her leg over her bike, stood it up, adjusted her backpack so that Matt could fit on behind her and then nodded to him.
'You know I always feel slightly ridiculous getting on a bike behind you,' he complained as he climbed on.
'And you complain about it every time. You could take the car.'
'I wouldn't be seen dead on four wheels during the TT,' Matt protested.
Janet smiled to herself.
Behind her Matt adjusted something and then took hold of the straps on the side of her jacket that were there to adjust the fit, but served well as handles too.
'Ready,' he said.
Janet started the bike and, after glancing over her shoulder, drove slowly off the grass pitch onto the track around the camp site and then onto the road, joining the many other cars and motorcycles who were probably off to the same practice session, even if not to do the same thing or to exactly the same place.
Janet parked the bike below where the road would be closed and walked up to Ballacraine corner, helmet swinging at her side. There was already a throng of Marshals and a young bobby, evening sun shining off his white helmet, all waiting for it to be time to close the roads.
Janet said hello to the Marshals she knew and nodded to those she didn't, and the bobby, who was new.
Gary and Sharon were already waiting around the corner with the ambulance. It was parked a little way from the junction and they were sat in the back while they waited. Gary was pouring tea from a large thermos.
'Alright?' Janet asked as she elbowed Sharon gently in the ribs until she too had room to sit down next to her in the back door of the ambulance. Matt propped himself up against the wall next to them.
'Aye,' Gary replied. 'Never thought I was going to get 'ere though. Traffic's mental tonight.'
'It is every night,' Sharon asked. 'Me, I just walk and enjoy the sunshine.'
'S'alright when you're only coming a hundred yards down the road. I've gotta get 'ere from Douglas.'
'You need better planning in your life,' Sharon informed him.
Gary handed Janet a mug of tea. She sipped at it. The sun shone straight down towards them, but they were shaded slightly by some trees. It was shaping up to be a lovely evening and, all being well, it would stay quiet.
'Good day at work?' She asked Sharon.
She shrugged, 'Yeah. Be better when we're closed next week. Evening practices are hard work after a full days work.'
'You never do a full days work,' Gary teased as he put the flask down and drunk some of his own tea.
'Aye Aye, Bobby's out,' He said, nodding past the ambulance to the junction. 'Traffic lights off already.'
'He's eager, there's fifteen minutes until the roads close,' Janet said, checking her watch.
Gary shrugged, 'He's new, maybe he just wants to practice directing traffic.'
'We should probably show willing,' Gary said, but not moving anywhere. He was in his late fifties and never appeared to do anything in a hurry unless he really had to.
They finished their tea and then picked the scoop stretcher and response kits out of the back of the ambulance to wander down to the junction with them. The bobby was in the centre of the crossroads directing each direction in turn, getting the junction clear of traffic.
'What ho,' the Chief Sector Marshall called to the four of them. 'Janet, darling, good to see you and your regulars are back for another year I see.'
'Hey up Macca you grumpy old bugger,' Janet said, giving him a hug and receiving a kiss on the cheek. 'How're numbers?' She asked, nodding towards the orange hivi vested Marshals still loitering on the corner until the traffic had stopped and they could set up properly.
'Good Good. You've got Phil and Biggles on rider duty with you if you need them. I hope not. Dave and Wayne have got bike duty, so don't trip over each other.'
Janet nodded. Macca wandered off to go bellow affectionate abuse at a late running Marshal while Janet and the paramedics wandered over to a bench to put their stuff down.
The road was a slightly wonky crossroads. The bikes would come along the straight bit of it and then turn right up at the junction, a bend that was about one hundred and ten degrees, to go hairing up to the next corner. Straight on at the junction was the run off area where bikes who broke down, or who couldn't make the corner, or who were called in for whatever reason, came in. It was where their ambulance sat, ready for if it was needed, and the team of marshals and Janet's paramedics sat in case there was a crash on any of the two hundred metres of track either side of the corner. The other road would fill with spectators, who would also line the hedges along the road either side of the corner too.
At six the bobby had cleared the junction and the roads closed ropes went up. The marshals hurried around, clearing the track and setting up bales and flag points. Janet watched them, picking out Phil and Biggles, both blokes she knew.
The travelling Marshals went round on their motorbikes, checking the course. One of them stopped at their corner and parked his bike behind their bench, he'd watch from here and be ready to go to an incident further along the course if needed. The travelling marshals were all experienced ex-racers who were on hand to respond to any problems. They were good blokes who knew what they were doing.
Janet tugged a ham sandwich from her bag and ate it, enjoying the sunshine. By ten past six the Marshals had done their job and the road was clear and ready to go. At twenty past six the first bikes on their practice laps left the start line.
Three and a half minutes later the first bike had reached them. Janet tugged her programme from her pocket and read through who was running in which classes. There were always the big names of course, they were worth looking out for for obvious reasons, but then down the running there were always some other riders to keep an eye on. Janet liked to watched the newcomers to the event, they often added something, and the female riders. There weren't many of them, but they had their fans. The races were the real spectacle, but Janet liked to pick out the riders to keep an eye on so she could recognise them in the races without needing to frantically look up their race number each time.
So she watched and noted the paintjobs and the leather and helmet colours on those she wanted to and then, by and large she relaxed while the riders came round on their first round of practice. She kept an eye out and an ear out, listening to the mostly 1000ccs, and a few 600s, out but it was the marshals whose job it was to watch for problems and run the course. She and her team were only needed if there was an incident and she would be very happy if all she did for two weeks was watch the bikes and work on her tan.
The solo practice passed without serious incident. A few people went straight on at the corner instead of around it having decided they were going too fast to make the corner. The flag marshal blew the whistle as warning, but none of them passed close enough to them for Janet to worry. She watched them turn in the run off area and get waved back onto the track by Macca.
There was a lull at seven fifty when the solo bikes stopped and then, at eight, the sidecars came out on their practice laps. Janet watched a little more closely. She liked the sidecars, they were interesting and they always had more women amongst the drivers and passengers than the solo riders did.
The riders were on their last lap of the evening when something about the sound of one of the sidecars as it came towards the corner made Janet's ears prick up. She looked up. She marshals were alert, more so than usual. They were mostly experienced marshals and they could tell when something was going to go wrong. She got up from the bench, almost at the same time as Gary, Sharon and Matt either side of her and peered towards the corner, hoping to see the driver of the sidecar save the corner. Unlikely given the speed they sounded like they were coming in with, but she hoped, somehow, that the crew was good enough to save it. They were breaking heavily and there was a chance.
They didn't save it. They were too fast and despite the passenger's best attempts to fling themselves over to the driver's side to weigh it down the sidecar was tipping up towards them. They seemed to hang for a moment in the air and then the fairing on the passenger's side caught and the bike span and nearly flipped up the road in a blur of white and blue leathers and orange newcomers bib, and out of Janet's line of view. She didn't need to see though, she heard the smack and crunch of the rig colliding with the bales along the wall and she was already running towards the scene.
'I've got the passenger,' she called to Gary who was a step behind her.
'Right,' he said, needing nothing more.
The passenger was, invariably, the one who was flung off the bike, the one who was usually the worst injured. The driver usually stayed on the bike where they had some protection from the fairing.
The passenger was in the bales, their feet visible beneath the top bales and not currently moving. The marshals were already at the crash, the yellow flag advising other riders that there had been an incident was waving. This was what Janet did, but bloody hell, every time she wished she could do it without sending her team out onto an active racetrack.
She and the marshal known as Biggles (she kept meaning to ask him what his name really was), lifted the bales off their casualty while Matt pulled open the immediate care case. The bales were, literally, hay bales inside woven plastic sacks and they weren't east to move around, but, with an injured person underneath she threw them around like they were nothing.
One of the other marshals grabbed the fallen bales from them and put them onto the course as a barrier between them and any oncoming rigs. Sure enough, they could hear the next sidecar already. Now that the passenger was clear of the bales Janet moved to their head and looked for their breath fogging their visor. The next sidecar screeched and wobbled noisily past them on the inside of the track a couple of feet from them with marshals frantically waving them to the inside of the track.
The passengers breath fogged and Janet felt a wave of relief. They were mostly on their side, pillowed against the lower bales underneath them. Janet patted them on the shoulder.
'Hello? Can you hear me?'
The passenger twitched as if surprised and moved looking up and around.
Janet reached forward and pushed their visor up. Blue and rather alarmed eyes blinked up at her. There was a second where the passenger seemed to be desperately trying to work out which way was up and then she was getting up, flailing slightly against the bales.
'Right, well, let's get you off the track,' Janet said, offering her a hand to help, sure she hadn't heard her, but talking nontheless. The passenger grabbed it with her left hand and Biggles darted in to help get her to her feet as gently, but efficiently, as possible.
'See if Gary and Sharon need a hand,' Janet told Matt. 'Passenger is okay.'
He nodded and moved up the hill. The passenger cradled her arm against her chest with her other and limped slightly, but she moved off the track. Janet kept at her side, staying between her and the sidecars still coming round only a few feet away.
The passenger glanced back at the mess that was the rest of the sidecar rig, presumably for the driver, but they weren't visible through the bales and the rest of the marshals trying to right the sidecar enough to get at him, or her.
Janet put her hand in the middle of the passenger's back and steered her into the run off area so she could sit down on the bench there and Janet could check her out properly.
'What hurts?' She asked.
'Side, ribs, wrist, shoulder,' the woman said, looking like she was in pain and concentrating on it.
She left the woman's arm and ribs for now, and after further questions about her head and back, decided to take her helmet off, which she did for her, fingers fumbling briefly with the seat belt catch on the strap. She eased the helmet up and off with the passenger's assistance from her good hand and then turned it over in her hand, looking at it the damage on it. There was scuffing and some gouges. Janet knew she had hit her head, but it didn't look extensive. She'd seen much worse.
She put it down on the bench next to the passenger and gave her a slight smile. The woman had a sweaty mess of blond hair that was mostly in a braid. Some of her hair had escaped though and was stuck to the sides of her face by sweat. There was further noise from the track, other than the screech of side cars negotiating the corner, and the driver of the rig stomped around the corner with the walk of the thoroughly pissed off. He was shaking his head.
The rest of the Janet's paramedics were with him, though not supporting him, leaving the marshals to shift the rest of the sidecar rig from the track, which they were doing with some difficulty; the rigs were heavy and damages ones were difficult to wheel.
The passenger relaxed slightly upon seeing her driver walking towards them and finally took her eyes off the corner to look at Janet.
'Just the sore wrist and ribs?' Janet asked, clarifying.
The woman nodded, 'Yeah. I mean, I hurt in other places, but nothing feels like I've damaged it.'
'We'll airmed you. Get them checked out.'
She nodded. Janet reached for her radio and confirmed that Airmed would be needed, but wasn't urgent. It'd allow race control to decide to leave their casualties for later if they needed to. She hoped they wouldn't need to because that would mean someone else had crashed.
The driver reached them and dropped down onto the bench as well. Janet's paramedics dropped their stuff around the bench and, after establishing that the driver was fine and a nod of dismissal from Janet, retired to sit on the wall further down from the bench to quietly frak out at what had happened, chat, and in one case, have a smoke.
'You alright?' The driver asked.
His passenger nodded to him, but also nodded to indicated her arm. 'Sore, going to get it checked out.'
He nodded. 'I need a new helmet,' he said, pointing at it to indicate some of the scuffs. 'Left most of my paint job and a fair bit of my leathers on the road surface apparently.'
Janet glanced him over, seeing the massive scuffs on his leathers where he'd been on contact with the road and noticing, for the first time, the sponsors on both their leathers and helmet. There was only one RAF sponsored sidecar team, which meant that Janet now had names to put to faces.
'But you're alright?' Carter asked him.
'Yeah. Pride dented. Wish I could blame the bike, but that was my fault,' O'Neill said.
'Well we were having a problem with the head gasket,' Carter said. 'We were struggling to keep the pressure up.'
'Didn't mean I needed to do that,' O'Neill said gesturing up the road to where they'd crashed.
'Right, I have a lovely scoop stretcher here for you Carter,' Janet said to her casualty. Carter pulled a face, but stood up. The only way casualties fitting into the airmed was on a scoop stretcher as graceless as it was.
O'Neill removed his own helmet and rubbed his gloved hand through his short greying hair. As Janet walked over to fetch the scoop stretcher he leant in and muttered something to Carter that she couldn't here. The woman smiled slightly in response, as if amused.
Janet lay the stretcher down on the tarmac and gestured to it. Carter, holding her injured arm into her injured side, stood up carefully. Janet steadied her shoulders and helped her lie down onto the stretcher. Carter whinced as she eased herself down into a sitting and then lying position on the stretcher, steadied all the way down by Janet.
'Bit over the top just to get a ride in a helicopter Carter,' O'Neill commented dryly from the bench.
She glared at him.
'Gary, Sharon, Matt, your lifting assistance please,' Janet said as she clipped the straps holding Carter onto the stretcher shut and tightened them over her, patting her on her good shoulder reassuring. 'Biggles, Phil?' She called more loudly. 'Matt, fetch them for me,' she said she she couldn't see either man.
Lifting a stretcher needed several people, even without the need for one person at the head keeping the casualties neck immobilised. Once she had them assembled it was relatively easy to carry Carter to the helicopter landing point around the corner, wait for the pilot's signal and then load her in. She looked uncertain and faintly alarmed, especially as they approached the helicopter. Janet tried to give her a reassuring smile as well as directing everyone over the sound of the helicopter. They slid the stretcher in, the airmedic shut the door, Matt handed her helmet over to the pilot and then they scurried back out of the way as it took off.
While watching the helicopter take off and allowing herself to slip out of incident management mode and back to normality Janet realised that Samantha Carter was really rather attractive. She hoped she would get to bump into her again, though not because of a crash hopefully.
By the time Janet walked back to the corner O'Neill was looking at the sidecar outfit that had been dragged out of the way by the marshals.
'Is it going to be alright?' Janet asked, nodding towards the bike.
'I think it's mostly the fairing,' he said. 'We'll see what we can do tomorrow.'
'Best sit down out of the way,' she advised him. 'In case any other riders make any unplanned stops with us.'
The rest of the practice passed without incidence, which was the way Janet liked it. By the time the roads closed car there was a van waiting to collect O'Neill and the crashed sidecar. Two guys jumped out of it, one of them already loudly deriding him for having crashed.
Janet nodded to him as she walked past on the way to her bike.
Part Two