Driving Home

“Are you off your nut?” Lisa hissed to James as they shared the back seat of the woman’s car. Billy was driving, and the woman was sitting backward on the passenger seat, glowering at them and fingering the hilt of a bullwhip. “Taking them back to our base?”

“Where they’ll be able to deal with them,” James murmured back.

“But it’s just—_embarrassing_!” Lisa whispered.

“If you’re going to talk, do it so I can hear you,” the dominatrix growled.

“Uhm…” James said. He looked around. “Nice car. I didn’t, um, know there were any Plymouth Dusters still in service.”

“It’s an heirloom.”

“You’re sure they’re in that car?” Sera asked. Her robot mode was straddling Fur’s motorcycle mode, keeping well back. From a distance, they should look like a normal human and bike—she hoped.

Fur’s console lights flickered in an affirmative, and he linked her a zoom image of the rear windshield. James and Lisa were clearly visible in the back seat.

Sera tightened her grip on the handlebars. “Then let’s do this thing.”

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