"What," Kerry frowned as she stared out at the curb, "is that?"

Kim, leaning hip-slung against the driver's side door of a silver Audi roadster, correctly interpreted the question as rhetorical and said nothing. A navy shirt, open at the collar and rolled up at the sleeves, tucked into faded jeans that embraced long, long legs; Doc Martens, Vuarnets and a canary-eating grin completed the ensemble.

"When you said you were picking up a little something for the weekend, I was expecting groceries, maybe some candles. Bottle of Scotch, even. But not this."

"This, my dear, is a thing of beauty. There's 225 turbocharged horses under the hood. It'll do zero to sixty in just over six seconds and it corners like a mother. And it's all ours until Monday morning." The grin slipped a notch at Kerry's patent lack of enthusiasm. "You don't like it?"

Like a mother what? was on the tip of Kerry's tongue but she caught herself in time. "You know how many convertible-related injuries I see? Not many, because by the time EMS responds, most of the victims are dead. Just ask Alice Upton about the guy who got decapitated –- "

"And they brought him to the morgue in two body bags, one of them really small, yeah, I heard. I also heard he'd been reenacting a scene from 'Smokey and the Bandit.' Somehow I don't think we're in a whole lot of danger of that happening, unless you're a closet Burt Reynolds fan and you just haven't been able to bring yourself to tell me yet."

"Kim, it's March. It's still freezing outside and you're driving with the top down."

"That's why the automobile gods made heaters. Yes, it is March, and yes, it is freezing. Which is profoundly wrong. This is supposed to be springtime. I want to see green leaves and flowers and fornicating squirrels, dammit. I want to go someplace where I don't have to defrost my ass after stepping out to get the mail."

Several vivid ideas for just how Kim's ass might be defrosted popped into Kerry's head; ruthlessly she squelched them and crutched down her front steps, circling warily around the sleek vehicle that crouched in front of her much more conservative sedan. "It looks," she said finally, "like someone took a can opener to a Beetle and then mashed it flat."

Kim smirked. "Okay, now you're reaching. Anything else?"

"Where the hell are you going to put your luggage?" For all her casually-thrown-together-ness, Kim usually packed for even short trips as though she were going to emigrate.

"Already in the trunk. Wasn't planning on needing a whole lot of clothing."

Kerry shivered at the images that conjured up. Whatever her reservations, it would be nice to get away from gray and dreary Chicago, and it wasn't often that their schedules coincided so that she and Kim had a whole three-day weekend off at the same time. Besides... the thing was kind of cute.

"Kerry?"

"All right. But I get to drive."

The smirk fell off Kim's face.

Heh.