Jazz peered around the corner cautiously. The pristine hallways looked clear, but better safe than sorry. This mission was important, or so the boss had said. Get the papers, get out without anyone noticing; it was as simple as that. Fumble, and there would be a price to pay.

But the Jazz man never fumbles, of course.

He waited for a few more seconds behind the corner before dashing down the hallway and into a room. Closing the door behind him quietly, Jazz prepared to search for what he'd come for...

Except he was not alone, like he was expecting. There was a couple making out noisily on the desk in the dark, entirely oblivious to the intruder. Jazz groaned, covering his face with a hand. Of all times for Murphy's Law to kick in...

The woman caught sight of him first, let out an earsplitting shriek and started scrambling off her partner. That got the man yelling too. Jazz cringed. The banshee screaming was going to blow his cover and this was supposed to be a simple stealth mission, not some goddamn freak show.

With the reflexes of a seasoned hitman, Jazz whipped out his stun gun and in less than a second had the panicking pair settled. He muttered a few choice curses under his breath as he stowed his gun away. Pity the poor souls had to pick the wrong room at the wrong time. He went to search the cupboards first.

"Jazz, there are men approaching your position. They will be there in less than five minutes."

"Aw crud I just got here man!" the saboteur complained aloud to no one in particular. He flipped through books and flung various trinkets out. Nothing. He bent down to inspect the cupboards.

"Any way you could buy me some time huh? This room ain't exactly what you'd call tiny and spartan."

"I will try my best. Please hurry."

"Tch. You should come here and try it out for yourself," Jazz grumbled.

Nothing in the cupboards either. He moved to the desk and started pulling files and folders from the drawers, rifling through all of them quickly.

An alarm went off somewhere in the building, wailing loudly and echoing in the hallways. Well that should buy him some time alright.

Then the alarm stopped. Jazz jerked his head up.

"That was less than five seconds!" he hissed.

"The humans running this facility are fairly efficient."

"Clearly." Jazz cursed colourfully again and continued his frantic search with renewed vigor.

Not half a minute later, the sound of heavy footfalls from afar reached his ears. Jazz felt an eye twitch. He'd had his share of close shaves before and truth be told, this was nothing. But the feeling of wild panic, the rush of adrenaline, the sudden intense clarity in his mind, it was always so exhilarating. So thrilling. So...

Exciting.

"They are now approximately one minute and 57 seconds away from you."

"Thanks for the heads up," Jazz muttered. He flipped through another file.

And bingo, there it was.

"Got it!" he half shouted, half whispered in relief.

"Then I suggest you make your escape as soon as you can."

"Workin' on it."

Jazz stuffed the documents haphazardly into his jacket pocket and dashed for the window. Just as he was about to leap out however, he stopped and looked back at the unconscious couple. They were still sprawled over each other on the desk like grotesquely posed mannequins. A sudden idea hit him and a grin split across his face; someone had to explain the mess, and Jazz certainly wasn't going to stick around to do that.

He hurried toward the desk and slapped the man's face briskly.

"Hey dude, get up man, c'mon..."

"Ugh..."

Jazz giggled like a maniac and escaped through the window.

Seconds later, another man entered the room and switched on the lights.

And his jaw dropped.

His office was in shambles, the cupboards and drawers were a mess, ransacked, and on his fine mahogany desk – carved and crafted by hand, and imported all the way from Thailand – his secretary was draped all over his manager, and both were half naked no less.

The manager's initial deer-in-the-headlights impression turned to one of pure panic as he desperately tried to shove the woman off him. He paled as his boss's face purpled impressively.

"S-sir! I can explain ev– "

He ducked to avoid the flying projectile aimed for his head.

"GET OUT!"

Outside, Jazz was already close to freedom. After scaling down the building using the pipes, he made a mad dash for the fence and climbed over it with ease. He dropped down the other side without a sound and straightened. Mission accomplished.

A police cruiser was parked at the curb across the street. Swaggering across the street with a smirk, Jazz approached the car and got in.

"... So."

The engine started and the car drove off.

"Yes?"

"It went great, didn't it? C'mon, lemme hear some praise from ya." Jazz grinned at the dashboard. The steering wheel was moving by itself.

"You handled it well under the circumstances, but it could have been done with a little more finesse."

Jazz threw his hands up in exasperation.

"You know what, for a talking car you sure demand a lot."

"I am not merely a talking car, Jazz."

"I know, I know, you're a technologically advanced transport with Artificial Intelligence, learning capabilities, enhanced logic circuits and special programming for tactical strategy," the man recited as he pushed the car seat back and relaxed, putting both hands behind his head.

"Oh and, you are a car that talks, period."

"I suppose one cannot argue with that statement."

"Damn right one can't."

Jazz felt his eyelids closing. It'd been a long night and it was already 4 am. Perhaps just a short nap...

A/N: Really random crossover with Knight Rider. If you couldn't tell, Jazz is the "rider" and Prowl is clearly the super cool intelligent car that talks. I really wanted to go somewhere with this (and somehow bring in Evangelion too) but seeing as I don't have time, it'll stay a oneshot for now. :