As soon as he stepped out of the lift into Level 12-B of the Hub, Jack Harkness could hear what he'd come looking for: a faint turbine whine echoing in the vast space of the storage vault, coming from a moving source several rows over. He flicked back the front panels of his coat, tucked his hands into his trouser pockets, and set off after it, intersecting its slow progression at Intersection D-23.
Gwen had described it as a black 1982 T-top Firebird Trans Am with a few modifications, but in Jack's opinion that didn't come close to capturing the visceral impact of the thing 'in the flesh', so to speak. It wasn't merely black: it was a lustrous ebony as bright as a mirror, like a slice of the void between the stars made animate. The rows of Vault lights high overhead struck quicksilver sparks from its curves, and the soft rumbling undertone of its engine bespoke limitless high-octane power.
Except for a slight quickening of the sweep of its glowing ruby scanner, the car ignored him: given that it outweighed him by a factor of about thirty and was heavily armoured, he could appreciate its attitude of indifference. It cruised past him as if he weren't even there, still doing around six kilometres an hour, so he fell in on its driver's side, keeping up with it at a fairly brisk walk.
Up close, the vibrations emanating from it settled into Jack's bones and raised the fine hairs on the back of his neck. He was only a little surprised to feel more parts of himself being awakened than just aesthetic appreciation.
He gave it a count of ten to acknowledge him before breaking the ice himself: "Y'know, when we park a car, we generally expect it to stay where we put it."
Silence. A less experienced man than Jack might have mistaken the lack of speech for lack of thought, but the ruggedly handsome guy in the black leather jacket currently drinking Ianto's coffee upstairs had made it very clear that neither volition nor willpower was lacking in this case. Besides, Jack had learned to spot intelligence a starship length away, no matter how it was packaged, and every tiny detail of this machine screamed the truth of an exceptionally keen mind combined with a distinctive spirit. He gave it a count of five this time before cheerfully trying again: "So what's your name, gorgeous?"
"I am the central processing unit of the Knight Industries Two Thousand," it replied in a dry Boston accent, far too tartly for something that lacked flesh and blood and an endocrine system to be aroused.
Jack cast a scowling sidelong glance in its direction, still keeping pace just in front of its door-mounted mirror. "Bit of a mouthful, isn't it? Not that I generally mind that sort of thing… didn't I hear your driver call you KITT?" The car didn't deign to reply this time, so he continued: "Knight Industries Two Thousand, KITT… makes perfect sense. It suits you." He reached out and patted the machine's hood just in front of the windshield. "You can't feel that, can you?" The car braked sharply. This time the quality of the silence was clear to be read by Jack's killer instincts: "You can feel that."
"I possess a surface-contoured electromagnetic resistance field for the purposes of damage detection and avoidance," the car informed him primly.
"Hmmm. Very nice." He settled his hand again, fully open, and ran it hand further along the hood's curve, taking his time, really feeling it. "Smooth as silk — smoother, actually… warm and soft over curves as hard as steel… Wow. Getting a little bit turned on here…"
"So I can't help but notice." The trace of amusement turned to something much more businesslike: "Listen, whoever you are —"
"Jack." He flashed his best get into bed with me NOW smile. "Captain Jack Harkness."
Which didn't impress KITT. "Well, Captain Harkness, I'd appreciate it if you took your hand off my hood."
"Do I have to?" He pouted just the tiniest bit while running his hand back up the way it had come, as if caressing the shoulder of a particularly discerning woman. "Seriously, you are spectacular."
A beat, full of incredulity. "Did you just…?"
"Flirt with you? Yeah, although technically that wasn't flirting, that was pretty much an outright —"
The car backed up sharply, out from under his hand and three feet back in less than a second. When it spoke again, it sounded profoundly uncertain: "I'm not really sure what's going on here…"
Jack gave it some space, except for his gaze, which was openly admiring. "I like beautiful things. You're definitely a beautiful thing. And I like beautiful things who can feel it when I touch them even more."
"Who are you?"
"Someone who'd appreciate it if you headed back to the bay we put you in, and who's more than willing to help you find a way to pass the time once you get there."
"You're propositioning me," KITT stated, not quite an accusation and not quite a question.
"Yes," Jack said at once.
"Sexually?"
Smirking, Jack fully turned and strolled back in the car's direction. "Yeah. Is that a surprise?"
"A profound one, considering that I'm —"
"Intelligent?" He extended his hand again, letting himself savour the almost living texture of that sleek finish. This time the car didn't retreat. "Crisp and refreshing as a glass of fine white wine? Possessor of a voice that's quite frankly making me a little bit weak in the knees?"
"I was thinking more along the lines of 'not even close to human', actually."
Jack shrugged, reversing the course of his hand, dragging the slightest edge of fingernails over the gleaming finish. He didn't even leave any fingerprints behind. "I don't worry too much about surface details." He admired his own reflection in the car's obsidian hide for a moment, then smiled enticingly at the empty space behind the windshield. "Y'know, we've got some tech upstairs that I'm pretty sure would turn that 'electromagnetic resistance field for the purposes of damage detection and avoidance' into an 'Oh God, that's amazing, keep touching me there, don't stop' field in about ten seconds flat. Interested?"
"I…" Oh, it was thinking about it, torn between duty and Jack's offer to rock its world to the foundations. That was all kinds of adorable and about five different flavours of hot. "I can't. Michael wouldn't approve."
"And you're sure of that, are you?" Jack countered.
"I must admit," KITT said thoughtfully, "that it's one subject that has never come up in conversation before."
Jack kept petting it, leaning over to add the incentive of his other hand stroking the slightly raised ridge of the intake vent on its hood. "Look," he purred reasonably, "I'll tell you what — you get back to Bay 23, I'll nip upstairs and pick up the input modulation conversion unit, and I'll ask your partner for permission to teach you a few new tricks. Hell, I'll even ask him if he wants to get in on the fun."
KITT sounded utterly scandalized. "You can't be serious!"
Which prompted a slow lecherous grin. "If he hasn't looked at you and thought about making you moan his name at least once, he's gotta be dead from the waist down."
"Well… he's certainly not that," KITT had to agree.
"Besides, what's the worst that can happen?"
"He throws you out the nearest window," the car stated matter-of-factly.
"That straight, huh?"
"Well yes, that too, but also extremely protective of my…" A sound that was almost a clearing of its non-existent throat. "… virtue."
Jack shrugged. "If defenestrating me is the worst he's got to offer — been there, done that, survived the trip. Well?"
KITT was silent for several long seconds. Jack, who could be patient when it suited him, waited it out. "You know I can't do anything for either of you in return."
"I wouldn't be too sure about that." He leaned closer, to whisper with his lips almost brushing the shallow curve of its roof: "The input conversion unit includes a couple of cerebral interface headsets. Believe me, once you get the hang of it you'll be able to take us both from zero to sixty as many times as your little silicon heart desires."
"That's zero to two hundred and seventy-four, thank you very much."
"Even better!" Jack said gleefully. "So — you get me and your partner, we get you in return, and I get to introduce you both to erotic experiences you've never even dreamed of. Everybody wins, and nobody gets to sit alone and bored in a parking stall while Tosh figures out how to get you back where you came from. Well?"
"All right," KITT said, and his grudging tone didn't fool Jack for a second, especially when he added in a considerably more silken voice that went straight to Jack's already three-quarters-hard cock: "But don't keep me waiting."
As Jack sprinted back toward the lift, his coat flaring and flapping behind him with the speed of his passage, he happily reflected that there was nothing like a bit of telepathic robot car sex to spice up what had otherwise promised to be a singularly boring dayq.
THE END
