"I'm sorry," a voice drawled, "but you're really not my type."

Sierra jumped back, staring at the red sports car in front of her with wide eyes. "Did you just talk?"

"Well, of course I did," it - he, from the sound of the voice - answered, his headlights flickering. "Really now, human, what did you take me for? One of those lifeless machines you drive?"

Sierra crept closer. Then, finding her courage, she put her hands on her hips. "No way! I'm not stupid, car. I figured you could think. I just never thought you knew how to talk."

The car's engine rumbled in what Sierra could only guess was an approximation of a snort. "And how, pray tell, did you figure that one out?"

"Easy." She laid a triumphant hand on the car's red hood. "Nobody ever drives you."

The car's engine revved again, but this time it wasn't scoffing. It lurched forward, knocking Sierra off balance.

"Whoa - whoa there," she stammered, crawling backward. "You - you don't want to hurt me."

"The only reason I haven't run you over, skin job, is because it would take forever to clean off the mess."

Sierra scrambled to her feet and edged further away. This wasn't going well at all.

His headlights flashed again. "Keep your hands off me, or I might just change my mind. After all, I'd need to clean myself after you touching me anyway."

Sierra shook her head. That motorcycle of Jack's wasn't nice either, not from the little she could tell. But she didn't think the bike would threaten to kill anyone. Maybe the bikes were the friendly ones?

"But - but look what I brought for you. Polish and - and wax!" She stumbled toward the items, grabbing for them and holding them up.

"Intriguing. But I still don't want you touching me. Just - leave them there, and I won't have to kill you."

Sierra edged closer again. "I don't have to touch you, you know. I've got cloths." She waved it at him. "See? Smooth. And if I put my hand in the middle of it, I can rub you with the wax or whatever, and you won't get any slime from my hands on your paint."

"Hm."

"You're interested." She grinned.

"I might be. But I'm going to have to kill you for knowing about me, either way."

Her grin widened. "No you're not. Then you'll have to find someone else to polish you. And I don't know what thinking cars do when they're not out street racing for fun, but -"

His engine revved again. Sierra froze, but he didn't move toward her. She heaved a sigh of relief.

"Believe me, human. You don't want to know."

Sierra carefully wrapped her hand in the cloth. That was as good as a yes.