Hot Wheels
Jul. 9th, 2007 05:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hat_writes_stuffTitle: Hot Wheels
Fandom: Transformers 2007 Movie/Knight Rider
Characters: Second verse, same as the first.
Word Count: I have failed to count. Short, but longer than Nice Car.
Rating: G
Warnings: Still no real spoilers for Transformers, somehow.
Summary: Green light means go go go!
Author's Notes: This time, I can't blame Emily for this one. Instead, I'll blame the boys who really wanted to race. And I'll thank Lyn, because she could think of car songs and what would happen if Kitt needed to go even faster.
Disclaimer: Transformers and all related indicia are property of HasTak and Paramount Pictures; Knight Rider and all related indicia are property of Glen Larson and Universal Studios Television. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is made. A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend.
It was Mikaela, of course, who had suggested they leave the parking lot-- Mikaela was smart that way. Practical. It was one of the things Sam loved about her.
Sam had suggested the overlook-- nice private spot, that overlook. Good memories attached, even if some of them were embarrassing memories. (For Sam, at least. Bumblebee probably cracked up over them.)
Sam wasn't sure who'd started the race.
Okay, okay, so Bumblebee's engine had revved first, sitting at the stoplight next to Michael and his talking Firebird, but until the two cars dropped out of triple digits, Sam wasn't going to ask if Kitt had said something to Bumblebee on some level Sam couldn't hear.
But. There had been a stoplight, and Bumblebee's engine had growled, low and challenging-- and Kitt's had answered.
"What're you doing?" Mikaela had asked.
"I'm not--" and neither was Michael-- Sam looked over at the other driver... well, the other human, anyway, just as Michael looked over at him, bemused.
Engines revved, rumbled.
And when the light turned green, the old Firebird and the new (to Earth) Camaro took off as fast as they could go.
Which turned out to be Ludicrous Speed, incidentally.
Mikaela let out a totally adorable little scream-- the kind of scream that said, very succinctly, what the hell are you doing but oh god I'm having fun!
Sam was less subtle. "Dude, what the hell are you doing?"
The radio flipped on, rolled through static and stations and hit on the Beach Boys--
"And comin' off the line when the light turns green
Well she blows 'em outta the water like you never seen
I get pushed out of shape and it's hard to steer
When I get rubber in all four gears--"
"'Bee!"
They took a turn faster than Sam could have managed, faster than Mikaela could have managed, and Kitt took the lead, despite being on the outside. Michael was laughing, hands totally off the wheel.
This was between cars, then.
Mikaela and Sam shared a look for a heartbeat-- then started shouting, Sam first by a breath.
"Dude, go!"
"He's ahead! Move it, move it!"
"You don't know what I got!" answered the radio, and Bumblebee floored it entirely without Sam's input, chasing after Kitt, now ahead by a nose, now behind, radio skidding over the wild opening laugh from Wipe Out and snatches from this song or that one.
"Man, if there are any cops on this road, we are so busted," Sam laughed.
"Sam, how would they catch us?"
"Like Steve McQueen, all I need's a fast machine!"
They laughed and whooped and cheered Bumblebee on, backseat driving uselessly (like he needed to be warned about potholes he'd avoided fifty times before), knowing that no matter what else happened, it was going to be a short race.
The final stretch of road came into view, and the overlook, and Bumblebee was still ahead. "Blow those old fogies out of the water!" Sam cheered, ignoring the way Mikaela was suddenly laughing at him rather than with him-- hey, they couldn't all be his best material-- and twisting around to look at Michael and Kitt, instead.
He caught a glimpse of Michael reaching up to tap something on Kitt's ceiling, and then Kitt...
... didn't actually transform, but he changed. His nose shifted, lowered, his hood seemed to flatten, something seemed to happen around the spoiler area, and that was all Sam saw before the Firebird blew past them like they were standing still.
Even the radio was dead silent for a beat. Bumblebee's own voice finally broke the silence. "Wow. I want his alt-mode."
"So do I."
"... There is a scary amount of car-lust going on here, guys." Sam looked from Mikaela to Bumblebee's dash. "Seriously."
"-- How are they gonna stop before the drop?" Trust Mikaela to think of physics at a time like this, but it snapped Sam's attention back to Kitt just in time to see him flip the neatest ninety-degree turn he'd ever seen anywhere, stunt driver, Cybertronian, even cartoons, turf and dust kicked up all around him.
When it settled, none of it seemed to settle on Kitt, gently shifting back to his more stock shape. Bumblebee dropped his own speed and unrolled his windows, radio blaring again--
"She's American made, you know what I mean?
Red on black, she's a street machine.
Set's ten inches off the ground with a custom plate
That says I-E-A-T Z28
Trans Am
Trans Am
Trans Am
Highway Wonderland..."
Michael slid out of the driver's seat, laughing openly as Bumblebee pulled up-- Mikaela didn't even wait for him to stop to climb out. "How did you do that? What did you do? Can you do it again so I can see? Holy shit, look at his dashboard!" Mikaela craned her neck (and back and legs and Sam admired his beautiful girlfriend from behind) to get a better look at Kitt's interior-- but she didn't touch. Some cars got to have personal space.
"So basically, everybody's car can steal my girlfriend."
"Sam, that car could steal your car," Bumblebee pointed out, incredibly helpful creature that he was.
"Hey, you kids topped two hundred," Michael told them, still all smiles. "That's not bad-- took us four years to get Kitt past three hundred miles an hour."
"It took Bonnie four years," Kitt corrected. "Miss Banes, you've just been introduced to Ultra Pursuit Mode." Kitt launched into an explanation of aerodynamics and how the slight but dramatic shift in shape allowed for unparalleled speed and control. "Unfortunately, it means Michael can't take the wheel-- his reflexes aren't fast enough."
"He's not that old," Mikaela defended, apparently having followed Kitt's explanation.
"He's that human." Kitt paused for a moment. "I'm being scanned."
"Not that closely," Bumblebee replied, sheepish. "You're purely human technology, aren't you?" It seemed to fascinate him-- at least it caught Sam's attention.
"-- Really?"
"Of course I am," but Kitt's own scanners kicked into high gear, the light set in his prow sweeping back and forth more rapidly. "Michael--"
"You mean you're not?" Michael asked Bumblebee.
Bumblebee, for his part, nudged his door open-- effectively shouldering Sam aside without shoulders.
The 'without shoulders' condition didn't last long, though, as the bright yellow Camaro unfolded and refolded and stretched and shifted until Bumblebee stood on his own two feet. "No. I'm not."
Kitt's scanner stood stock-still, and Michael's jaw hung open a bit.
"You get used to that," Sam told them.
"Good heavens," Kitt murmured, quietly awed. "That was remarkable."
"That's what he does," Mikaela said, smiling as she looked from Bumblebee to Kitt. "You know, besides play around with the radio and save the world and everything."
"Save the world?" Michael echoed.
"Yeah," Sam agreed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's part of that long story."
Bumblebee folded up again, but only to sit cross-legged on the ground. "Be careful, Sam." It was something of a big security risk, but... well, a lot of people had already seen them, and Kitt wasn't exactly street legal himself-- at least, not past the surface.
"You're one of the unidentified machines that did so much damage to Mission City," Kitt said suddenly. "The photos available are of poor quality, but you're plainly recognizable in several of them." Beat. "I'm glad to see you've been repaired."
"Thank you," Bumblebee said, sincerely, though Mikaela had turned to try to see Kitt's interior again.
"You can access the internet from out here?"
"Miss Banes, there's very little I can't access from wherever I am," Kitt told her-- then seemed to notice how Bumblebee had shifted to try to look over Mikaela's shoulder. "Good heavens-- well, all right, have a look, both of you." The passenger door swung open, and Mikaela took advantage of being the one who'd fit to slide in. Bumblebee stopped just short of sticking his head inside, taking in the array of instruments and gauges and equipment with an appreciative synthesized whistle.
"Man, I have seen loaded cars before, but you take the cake." Mikaela didn't quite touch anything, but wanted to. "Are those plasma screens, or LCD?"
"Plasma, of course."
Sam turned back to Michael. "You know, I've got this weird feeling like, even though we both have amazing cars, we're gonna be walking home. I don't know 'Bee real well yet, but I think he's about to ask your car to go for dinner and a movie, or just spontaneously propose or something."
"So where's that leave your girlfriend?" Michael asked.
"Driving. Someone."
"So this long story?"
"... Yeah, okay, while they're drooling all over each other. Lemme start at the beginning-- when I was sixteen, my dad made me a deal: I bring him two thousand dollars and three As, and he'd go halves with me on my first car. It probably shoulda tipped me off that nobody working the used car lot had ever seen this old Camaro-- seventy-four or something, I think-- but like the man said, the car picks the driver, not the othe way around."
Michael chuckled. "That's for sure. Go on?"
And Sam did.
Author's Notes, 2013: I had fun writing this one, and re-reading it to post. Fair warning, although it's tagged 'gen,' there is a lot of half-silly car-lust in this ficlet. (A third ficlet was planned and is half-written, but I never managed to find a good note to end on.)
Fandom: Transformers 2007 Movie/Knight Rider
Characters: Second verse, same as the first.
Word Count: I have failed to count. Short, but longer than Nice Car.
Rating: G
Warnings: Still no real spoilers for Transformers, somehow.
Summary: Green light means go go go!
Author's Notes: This time, I can't blame Emily for this one. Instead, I'll blame the boys who really wanted to race. And I'll thank Lyn, because she could think of car songs and what would happen if Kitt needed to go even faster.
Disclaimer: Transformers and all related indicia are property of HasTak and Paramount Pictures; Knight Rider and all related indicia are property of Glen Larson and Universal Studios Television. No copyright infringement is intended and no profit is made. A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend.
It was Mikaela, of course, who had suggested they leave the parking lot-- Mikaela was smart that way. Practical. It was one of the things Sam loved about her.
Sam had suggested the overlook-- nice private spot, that overlook. Good memories attached, even if some of them were embarrassing memories. (For Sam, at least. Bumblebee probably cracked up over them.)
Sam wasn't sure who'd started the race.
Okay, okay, so Bumblebee's engine had revved first, sitting at the stoplight next to Michael and his talking Firebird, but until the two cars dropped out of triple digits, Sam wasn't going to ask if Kitt had said something to Bumblebee on some level Sam couldn't hear.
But. There had been a stoplight, and Bumblebee's engine had growled, low and challenging-- and Kitt's had answered.
"What're you doing?" Mikaela had asked.
"I'm not--" and neither was Michael-- Sam looked over at the other driver... well, the other human, anyway, just as Michael looked over at him, bemused.
Engines revved, rumbled.
And when the light turned green, the old Firebird and the new (to Earth) Camaro took off as fast as they could go.
Which turned out to be Ludicrous Speed, incidentally.
Mikaela let out a totally adorable little scream-- the kind of scream that said, very succinctly, what the hell are you doing but oh god I'm having fun!
Sam was less subtle. "Dude, what the hell are you doing?"
The radio flipped on, rolled through static and stations and hit on the Beach Boys--
"And comin' off the line when the light turns green
Well she blows 'em outta the water like you never seen
I get pushed out of shape and it's hard to steer
When I get rubber in all four gears--"
"'Bee!"
They took a turn faster than Sam could have managed, faster than Mikaela could have managed, and Kitt took the lead, despite being on the outside. Michael was laughing, hands totally off the wheel.
This was between cars, then.
Mikaela and Sam shared a look for a heartbeat-- then started shouting, Sam first by a breath.
"Dude, go!"
"He's ahead! Move it, move it!"
"You don't know what I got!" answered the radio, and Bumblebee floored it entirely without Sam's input, chasing after Kitt, now ahead by a nose, now behind, radio skidding over the wild opening laugh from Wipe Out and snatches from this song or that one.
"Man, if there are any cops on this road, we are so busted," Sam laughed.
"Sam, how would they catch us?"
"Like Steve McQueen, all I need's a fast machine!"
They laughed and whooped and cheered Bumblebee on, backseat driving uselessly (like he needed to be warned about potholes he'd avoided fifty times before), knowing that no matter what else happened, it was going to be a short race.
The final stretch of road came into view, and the overlook, and Bumblebee was still ahead. "Blow those old fogies out of the water!" Sam cheered, ignoring the way Mikaela was suddenly laughing at him rather than with him-- hey, they couldn't all be his best material-- and twisting around to look at Michael and Kitt, instead.
He caught a glimpse of Michael reaching up to tap something on Kitt's ceiling, and then Kitt...
... didn't actually transform, but he changed. His nose shifted, lowered, his hood seemed to flatten, something seemed to happen around the spoiler area, and that was all Sam saw before the Firebird blew past them like they were standing still.
Even the radio was dead silent for a beat. Bumblebee's own voice finally broke the silence. "Wow. I want his alt-mode."
"So do I."
"... There is a scary amount of car-lust going on here, guys." Sam looked from Mikaela to Bumblebee's dash. "Seriously."
"-- How are they gonna stop before the drop?" Trust Mikaela to think of physics at a time like this, but it snapped Sam's attention back to Kitt just in time to see him flip the neatest ninety-degree turn he'd ever seen anywhere, stunt driver, Cybertronian, even cartoons, turf and dust kicked up all around him.
When it settled, none of it seemed to settle on Kitt, gently shifting back to his more stock shape. Bumblebee dropped his own speed and unrolled his windows, radio blaring again--
"She's American made, you know what I mean?
Red on black, she's a street machine.
Set's ten inches off the ground with a custom plate
That says I-E-A-T Z28
Trans Am
Trans Am
Trans Am
Highway Wonderland..."
Michael slid out of the driver's seat, laughing openly as Bumblebee pulled up-- Mikaela didn't even wait for him to stop to climb out. "How did you do that? What did you do? Can you do it again so I can see? Holy shit, look at his dashboard!" Mikaela craned her neck (and back and legs and Sam admired his beautiful girlfriend from behind) to get a better look at Kitt's interior-- but she didn't touch. Some cars got to have personal space.
"So basically, everybody's car can steal my girlfriend."
"Sam, that car could steal your car," Bumblebee pointed out, incredibly helpful creature that he was.
"Hey, you kids topped two hundred," Michael told them, still all smiles. "That's not bad-- took us four years to get Kitt past three hundred miles an hour."
"It took Bonnie four years," Kitt corrected. "Miss Banes, you've just been introduced to Ultra Pursuit Mode." Kitt launched into an explanation of aerodynamics and how the slight but dramatic shift in shape allowed for unparalleled speed and control. "Unfortunately, it means Michael can't take the wheel-- his reflexes aren't fast enough."
"He's not that old," Mikaela defended, apparently having followed Kitt's explanation.
"He's that human." Kitt paused for a moment. "I'm being scanned."
"Not that closely," Bumblebee replied, sheepish. "You're purely human technology, aren't you?" It seemed to fascinate him-- at least it caught Sam's attention.
"-- Really?"
"Of course I am," but Kitt's own scanners kicked into high gear, the light set in his prow sweeping back and forth more rapidly. "Michael--"
"You mean you're not?" Michael asked Bumblebee.
Bumblebee, for his part, nudged his door open-- effectively shouldering Sam aside without shoulders.
The 'without shoulders' condition didn't last long, though, as the bright yellow Camaro unfolded and refolded and stretched and shifted until Bumblebee stood on his own two feet. "No. I'm not."
Kitt's scanner stood stock-still, and Michael's jaw hung open a bit.
"You get used to that," Sam told them.
"Good heavens," Kitt murmured, quietly awed. "That was remarkable."
"That's what he does," Mikaela said, smiling as she looked from Bumblebee to Kitt. "You know, besides play around with the radio and save the world and everything."
"Save the world?" Michael echoed.
"Yeah," Sam agreed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's part of that long story."
Bumblebee folded up again, but only to sit cross-legged on the ground. "Be careful, Sam." It was something of a big security risk, but... well, a lot of people had already seen them, and Kitt wasn't exactly street legal himself-- at least, not past the surface.
"You're one of the unidentified machines that did so much damage to Mission City," Kitt said suddenly. "The photos available are of poor quality, but you're plainly recognizable in several of them." Beat. "I'm glad to see you've been repaired."
"Thank you," Bumblebee said, sincerely, though Mikaela had turned to try to see Kitt's interior again.
"You can access the internet from out here?"
"Miss Banes, there's very little I can't access from wherever I am," Kitt told her-- then seemed to notice how Bumblebee had shifted to try to look over Mikaela's shoulder. "Good heavens-- well, all right, have a look, both of you." The passenger door swung open, and Mikaela took advantage of being the one who'd fit to slide in. Bumblebee stopped just short of sticking his head inside, taking in the array of instruments and gauges and equipment with an appreciative synthesized whistle.
"Man, I have seen loaded cars before, but you take the cake." Mikaela didn't quite touch anything, but wanted to. "Are those plasma screens, or LCD?"
"Plasma, of course."
Sam turned back to Michael. "You know, I've got this weird feeling like, even though we both have amazing cars, we're gonna be walking home. I don't know 'Bee real well yet, but I think he's about to ask your car to go for dinner and a movie, or just spontaneously propose or something."
"So where's that leave your girlfriend?" Michael asked.
"Driving. Someone."
"So this long story?"
"... Yeah, okay, while they're drooling all over each other. Lemme start at the beginning-- when I was sixteen, my dad made me a deal: I bring him two thousand dollars and three As, and he'd go halves with me on my first car. It probably shoulda tipped me off that nobody working the used car lot had ever seen this old Camaro-- seventy-four or something, I think-- but like the man said, the car picks the driver, not the othe way around."
Michael chuckled. "That's for sure. Go on?"
And Sam did.
Author's Notes, 2013: I had fun writing this one, and re-reading it to post. Fair warning, although it's tagged 'gen,' there is a lot of half-silly car-lust in this ficlet. (A third ficlet was planned and is half-written, but I never managed to find a good note to end on.)
