She didn't know a ton about cars, but even she knew this was a nice one. One that had a lot of buttons she was going to want to push.
Tabitha had one hand jammed into the back pocket of her jeans. The other was on the ready just in case she had throw a timebomb at the driver and make a run for it.
Actually, come to think of it, no one was going to be happy she'd given out this address to a stranger. Eh.
But as she peered into the car -- it was talking, friggin' talking -- she didn't see anyone in the driver's seat.
"Oh shit. Oh holy fuck. Oh my God. You're actually a talking car." Sure, she'd been inside the Blackbird, and that was pretty high tech. But this was way different. And better. She was clamoring into the passenger seat without needing a whole lot of encouragement which, in hindsight, probably wasn't brilliant. But Tabby had a bad habit of acting first and thinking later.
She was poking at the dashboard without waiting for any sort of permission to be as nosey as humanly possible. "Tabby. Or Tabs. People only call me Tabitha after I've blown something up. What do I call you? KITT? Mr. Car? Sweet Ride?"
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Date: 2018-07-12 01:04 am (UTC)She didn't know a ton about cars, but even she knew this was a nice one. One that had a lot of buttons she was going to want to push.
Tabitha had one hand jammed into the back pocket of her jeans. The other was on the ready just in case she had throw a timebomb at the driver and make a run for it.
Actually, come to think of it, no one was going to be happy she'd given out this address to a stranger. Eh.
But as she peered into the car -- it was talking, friggin' talking -- she didn't see anyone in the driver's seat.
"Oh shit. Oh holy fuck. Oh my God. You're actually a talking car." Sure, she'd been inside the Blackbird, and that was pretty high tech. But this was way different. And better. She was clamoring into the passenger seat without needing a whole lot of encouragement which, in hindsight, probably wasn't brilliant. But Tabby had a bad habit of acting first and thinking later.
She was poking at the dashboard without waiting for any sort of permission to be as nosey as humanly possible. "Tabby. Or Tabs. People only call me Tabitha after I've blown something up. What do I call you? KITT? Mr. Car? Sweet Ride?"