Fluff!
Since I'm working on way too many fics at once and am having to scare up a little muse for the ones I've started, I decided to give myself a break. I blame this fic on an episode of Star Trek Voyager.
Title: Date Night
Author: Lyn, aka backtothelight
Rating: PG
Pairing: Michael/Kitt
"Kitt!" Michael called, standing in the doorframe. "Kitt, come down here - I've got a surprise for you!" The grin on his face wasn't the goofy, joking grin that he wore so often. This time, it was in anticipation. When Kitt came down the stairs, holding his book with a finger to keep his place, Michael found himself a little worried. He knew Kitt wouldn't understand his reasoning, and he knew that Kitt would give him a degree of grief. After all, it was Kitt he was talking about, and Kitt, if nobody else, had his opinions on things.
"What is it, Michael?"
"I wanted us to go out tonight."
Kitt raised one eyebrow in skepticism. "...All right. Michael, this isn't that much of a surprise."
"You're right," said Michael. "It isn't. The real surprise is outside. But..." But he'd changed his mind. "But I want you to go change first."
"Change? Michael, why? And into what? A suit?"
Michael could hear so plainly into Kitt's tone. Where would Michael take him, he heard, that he'd need to wear a suit? "Nah."
Michael shook his head. "Not a suit. Jeans and a T-shirt. Got any Keds?"
"...Keds?"
With a shake of his head, Michael reached for Kitt's arm and led him upstairs. "Trust me," he chuckled, and nudged him into the bedroom.
It took less than twenty minutes for both of them to be dressed in jeans and T-shirts, Michael with his leather jacket added and Kitt with a windbreaker. "I look ridiculous," Kitt said, muttering.
"No, you... look fitting," Michael grinned. "Come on. Time to go." He held Kitt's hand, tugging him toward the front door. It was after the front door he expected Kitt to protest. And protest Kitt did.
"...Michael, what have you done? You--" He broke off, and Michael knew he was in for it. But his idea was still solid, he still intended to go through with it. He pulled Kitt, as reluctant as he was, toward the car. The car, in this instance, was a 1957 Chevrolet Bel-Air convertible, the top let down, chrome gleaming.
"Trust me, Kitt," he said, grinning, and opened the passenger door for him. "Come on. It's a high school date, back when I was a senior. Back in the day."
He didn't get an answer. In fact, Kitt looked absolutely stormy, but Michael didn't let it get him down. He climbed into the driver's seat and they were soon driving toward the drive in restaurant. It took half the meal of cheeseburgers, fries, and milkshakes to relax enough to enjoy Michael's arm around him. It made Michael grin. He was able to sneak a few kisses in the movie - drive in movie, of course - but he couldn't mistake Kitt's shoulders still being tense, even as he settled throughout the night.
Michael steered one-handed, back and forth down the strip, relaxed as the balmy night air brushed through his hair. "You know," he said as they headed toward the city limits, "this is almost exactly like my high school dates."
"They kept you at arm's length, too?"
"Yup." Michael chuckled and squeezed Kitt's shoulder. "Exactly."
"Would you mind telling me just where we're headed?"
"I pulled a few strings," was the only answer Michael gave. They drove on out of town, through suburbia. Bit by bit, city lights receded, being replaced by glittering stars and moonlight. The night was just getting sweeter and quieter, the further the sun went down. Eventually, he moved his arm from around Kitt to turn the radio on, and Kitt scooted across the seat from him. "You didn't have to do that, you know."
Kitt didn't answer.
It took about twenty minutes of driving for Michael to pull over to the side of the road. He pulled a key out of his pocket and opened a gate that led up the side of a hill. He pulled the car through the gate and closed it behind them, watching Kitt act like he wasn't watching. He'd glanced over his shoulder, watched, then looked quickly around when Michael started back up the incline to the car. Michael tried not to show how smug he was. Yes, they hadn't said much, but the fact that Kitt was so curious was enough for him.
He drove the rest of the way up the hill to a small clearing. The city was in the distance with its traffic and skyscrapers. The sky above was clear and starry, the moon casting silvery light. Soon, the only thing to show of the car was the chrome, lights turned off under the trees. The radio played quietly, an oldies station that made the whole ambience soft. It really did feel like high school all over again. The music, the company, the clearing... He felt like he was waiting for a curfew that would never come.
"Are you ever going to talk to me?" he asked quietly, looking across the bench seat.
"I suppose I'll have to, eventually."
He could only barely hear Kitt, even though the only sounds were the quiet radio, the crickets, and the faint breeze in the tops of the trees. "Come on, Kitt. I know you don't like the car."
Kitt faced him. "You're right. I don't like the car. You take me out on a date in this car?"
"You never had high school. You never had stolen moments. You never got the chance."
"That doesn't explain this car."
Michael exhaled - "I'm coming to that. See... these cars were the original cars for dates."
Kitt wasn't being that receptive. He'd started to look through the windsheild again, and Michael sighed. He scooted over, though, easing near enough to wrap his arm around Kitt's shoulders. Really was high school. "People cruised when I was young. Round and round the strip, listening to the radio, showing off, hanging out with their friends and trying to impress the guy or girl they wanted to date."
"And you tried to impress me with this c--"
"Kitt, c'mon. I'm trying to explain here," he interrupted and sighed. He drew Kitt closer - close enough that he could smell the light soap that Kitt had showered with and just a touch of cologne. God, he smelled good. "These cars are perfect for dating." This close, he kept his voice soft, and under his arm, he felt Kitt's shoulders give a little. "They aren't on par with you... They didn't have air conditioning, they couldn't go over three-hundred miles an hour, and they sure couldn't talk... Yeah, I loved my old Chevy, but not like I love you..."
"But-" Now even Kitt was speaking softer. Michael counted it a success. Lips near Kitt's cheek, close to his ear, hand on his knee... He grinned. "-But you knew I'd hate this car..."
"Oh," he murmured, "I know. I knew. But this car has its good points." Michael's arms wrapped around Kitt's waist, pulling him closer. "And I know you don't think there's anything that could be good about it... But, well... for one, it's a convertible."
"...I'm a convertible," Kitt protested quietly.
Michael kissed his jaw, then up toward his ear and smiled as Kitt leaned against him. "Yes, you are. But you've never had bench seats...."
"No... no, I didn't..."
"And the Bel-Air? Has a fantastically roomy back seat."
"Oh...."
"I packed a blanket."
There was indeed no curfew. Only a night sky and the Flamingos singing, I only have eyes for you...
Title: Date Night
Author: Lyn, aka backtothelight
Rating: PG
Pairing: Michael/Kitt
"Kitt!" Michael called, standing in the doorframe. "Kitt, come down here - I've got a surprise for you!" The grin on his face wasn't the goofy, joking grin that he wore so often. This time, it was in anticipation. When Kitt came down the stairs, holding his book with a finger to keep his place, Michael found himself a little worried. He knew Kitt wouldn't understand his reasoning, and he knew that Kitt would give him a degree of grief. After all, it was Kitt he was talking about, and Kitt, if nobody else, had his opinions on things.
"What is it, Michael?"
"I wanted us to go out tonight."
Kitt raised one eyebrow in skepticism. "...All right. Michael, this isn't that much of a surprise."
"You're right," said Michael. "It isn't. The real surprise is outside. But..." But he'd changed his mind. "But I want you to go change first."
"Change? Michael, why? And into what? A suit?"
Michael could hear so plainly into Kitt's tone. Where would Michael take him, he heard, that he'd need to wear a suit? "Nah."
Michael shook his head. "Not a suit. Jeans and a T-shirt. Got any Keds?"
"...Keds?"
With a shake of his head, Michael reached for Kitt's arm and led him upstairs. "Trust me," he chuckled, and nudged him into the bedroom.
It took less than twenty minutes for both of them to be dressed in jeans and T-shirts, Michael with his leather jacket added and Kitt with a windbreaker. "I look ridiculous," Kitt said, muttering.
"No, you... look fitting," Michael grinned. "Come on. Time to go." He held Kitt's hand, tugging him toward the front door. It was after the front door he expected Kitt to protest. And protest Kitt did.
"...Michael, what have you done? You--" He broke off, and Michael knew he was in for it. But his idea was still solid, he still intended to go through with it. He pulled Kitt, as reluctant as he was, toward the car. The car, in this instance, was a 1957 Chevrolet Bel-Air convertible, the top let down, chrome gleaming.
"Trust me, Kitt," he said, grinning, and opened the passenger door for him. "Come on. It's a high school date, back when I was a senior. Back in the day."
He didn't get an answer. In fact, Kitt looked absolutely stormy, but Michael didn't let it get him down. He climbed into the driver's seat and they were soon driving toward the drive in restaurant. It took half the meal of cheeseburgers, fries, and milkshakes to relax enough to enjoy Michael's arm around him. It made Michael grin. He was able to sneak a few kisses in the movie - drive in movie, of course - but he couldn't mistake Kitt's shoulders still being tense, even as he settled throughout the night.
Michael steered one-handed, back and forth down the strip, relaxed as the balmy night air brushed through his hair. "You know," he said as they headed toward the city limits, "this is almost exactly like my high school dates."
"They kept you at arm's length, too?"
"Yup." Michael chuckled and squeezed Kitt's shoulder. "Exactly."
"Would you mind telling me just where we're headed?"
"I pulled a few strings," was the only answer Michael gave. They drove on out of town, through suburbia. Bit by bit, city lights receded, being replaced by glittering stars and moonlight. The night was just getting sweeter and quieter, the further the sun went down. Eventually, he moved his arm from around Kitt to turn the radio on, and Kitt scooted across the seat from him. "You didn't have to do that, you know."
Kitt didn't answer.
It took about twenty minutes of driving for Michael to pull over to the side of the road. He pulled a key out of his pocket and opened a gate that led up the side of a hill. He pulled the car through the gate and closed it behind them, watching Kitt act like he wasn't watching. He'd glanced over his shoulder, watched, then looked quickly around when Michael started back up the incline to the car. Michael tried not to show how smug he was. Yes, they hadn't said much, but the fact that Kitt was so curious was enough for him.
He drove the rest of the way up the hill to a small clearing. The city was in the distance with its traffic and skyscrapers. The sky above was clear and starry, the moon casting silvery light. Soon, the only thing to show of the car was the chrome, lights turned off under the trees. The radio played quietly, an oldies station that made the whole ambience soft. It really did feel like high school all over again. The music, the company, the clearing... He felt like he was waiting for a curfew that would never come.
"Are you ever going to talk to me?" he asked quietly, looking across the bench seat.
"I suppose I'll have to, eventually."
He could only barely hear Kitt, even though the only sounds were the quiet radio, the crickets, and the faint breeze in the tops of the trees. "Come on, Kitt. I know you don't like the car."
Kitt faced him. "You're right. I don't like the car. You take me out on a date in this car?"
"You never had high school. You never had stolen moments. You never got the chance."
"That doesn't explain this car."
Michael exhaled - "I'm coming to that. See... these cars were the original cars for dates."
Kitt wasn't being that receptive. He'd started to look through the windsheild again, and Michael sighed. He scooted over, though, easing near enough to wrap his arm around Kitt's shoulders. Really was high school. "People cruised when I was young. Round and round the strip, listening to the radio, showing off, hanging out with their friends and trying to impress the guy or girl they wanted to date."
"And you tried to impress me with this c--"
"Kitt, c'mon. I'm trying to explain here," he interrupted and sighed. He drew Kitt closer - close enough that he could smell the light soap that Kitt had showered with and just a touch of cologne. God, he smelled good. "These cars are perfect for dating." This close, he kept his voice soft, and under his arm, he felt Kitt's shoulders give a little. "They aren't on par with you... They didn't have air conditioning, they couldn't go over three-hundred miles an hour, and they sure couldn't talk... Yeah, I loved my old Chevy, but not like I love you..."
"But-" Now even Kitt was speaking softer. Michael counted it a success. Lips near Kitt's cheek, close to his ear, hand on his knee... He grinned. "-But you knew I'd hate this car..."
"Oh," he murmured, "I know. I knew. But this car has its good points." Michael's arms wrapped around Kitt's waist, pulling him closer. "And I know you don't think there's anything that could be good about it... But, well... for one, it's a convertible."
"...I'm a convertible," Kitt protested quietly.
Michael kissed his jaw, then up toward his ear and smiled as Kitt leaned against him. "Yes, you are. But you've never had bench seats...."
"No... no, I didn't..."
"And the Bel-Air? Has a fantastically roomy back seat."
"Oh...."
"I packed a blanket."
There was indeed no curfew. Only a night sky and the Flamingos singing, I only have eyes for you...