Author: Suisan, One Twisted Evilette

Genre: Gen
Characters: See Title
Rating: G, PG13
Warnings: none
Spoilers: Inspired by the Save!Colby Live Journal PicSpam of August 28th - September 1st, 2008

Word Count: 595

Author Note: Assisted, quite adroitly, by the other Twisted Evilette, AmyD.

For a soft body, this one is firm in all the right places. I like to cradle him in comfort, or when he leans up against me, but I do wish he wouldn't use me to dodge bullets so frequently. I don't 'bleed' perse, but if I get one of those projectiles in my radiator or gas tank . . . you're going to know it.

I'm a car with feelings, and what I really like to feel is this one's hands - all over my skin. It usually happens when he takes me home on his days off. Soft, soapy and wet hands all over my chassis. Makes me just purr in delight and, you know, I think he recognizes it too. He's always praising me for 'running so smoothly' after he's pampered me.

He's even figured out that I tend to behave better if my sound system is playing anything but rap. Even talk radio, Larry Elder in particular - is better than that, because every time the Other One drops into the driver's seat and tries to change over the tunes . . . The Colby usually makes sure he doesn't.

"Don't ask why, just accept it, you change the music and she's going to start to act up. Trust me." He knows me so well. "I'll be right back, don't go any where or do anything." He leaves the comfort of my warmth for the slightly colder world outside.

Hmmm-- Evidently, the Other One has chosen not to believe The Colby and changes the music while Colby runs his errand. Time to put the fear of THE Charger into this one. Oh, the music isn't bad, it is not rap, but it's also not what I fancy or what I know The Colby prefers. I am supposed to be in idle mode, but . . . time to sputter and spit.

"What the heck?" The Other One turns down the sound system and I stop screwing with him. The music goes back up. I start to spit and fit again. We dance like this for a few minutes before Colby returns and I stop sputtering, for the meantime, but I'll start up again if I have to.

"Strange." The Other One says as he looks over at Colby.

"What is?"

"You didn't do anything with the spare remote starter while you were checking to see if Mister Penitz was home, did you? Finger it in your pocket or something?"

"No . . . oh, you change stations. What did she do?"

"Started acting like her timing was off-- HEY!"

Ah, see? Now we're back to listening to Talk Radio. Just as we should be.

"Better, Girl?" The Colby asks as he slides his hand across my dash on the passenger side in a loving caress.

I rev my engine, just a bit, only after making sure the Other One didn't have his foot on the pedal in response and give my lowest, sexiest growl.

"It's all right, Girl, no more modern popular rock unless you want it."

"Colby?"

"Yeah, David?"

"You are seriously screwy."

"Man, I keep telling ya, you've got to treat your car like they have a personality and you care for them. Otherwise--" He shrugs as his shoulders and back slip a little deeper into my heated and comforting cushions.

The Other One, David, pulls out into traffic before answering. "You are so blowing smoke up my--"

I didn't mean to do it, honestly. But there wasn't anyone behind me and, well, the emergency brake cable is so close to other controls . . . . .

The End