"How did I get..." 

         "Don't bother trying to figure that out." 

         "OHMYGOSHtalkingcar! Is there like a bluetooth speaker or something?" 

There was no answer to that as I leaned forward in the seat. No button showed as a calling button so this baffled me to no end. 

         "I guess you could say I have made some modifications." 

         "Like what? A coffee maker? Cause coffee sounds really good right now." 

         "I could drive you to a coffee hut if you like. You'll have to move to the driver's seat though." 

Not turning down the opportunity for coffee, I slid over the middle and into the driver's seat. 

          "Do I drive or what?" 

The voice chuckled. It was a low chuckle, one that would come out of someone who found struggling effort amusing. Who the struggling person would be I have no idea, but I found this chuckle made my spine shiver, but not in a bad way. 

         "I've got you covered." 

And with that the car started driving on it's own, out of the now empty make-shift race track. 

     Seeing the interior I figured that no one really gets in to often. The leather seats weren't worn down by any means and the dials and buttons had no sign of use at all. 

         "Are you controlled by a remote or something?" I mumbled, the car continueing on with it's mission to a coffee shop. I just didn't know what to think. This would explain why the driver never seemed to show up, or collect the prize (it ended up going to second place). We arrived at the coffee shop, the barista slightly on edge when I rolled up. 

         "You a street racer?" 

I answered 'no', getting a wide smile in return. Obviously street racers around here aren't to popular. I ordered, paid, and left. Silently sipping the masterpiece I ordered, the car spoke again. 

         "So, where do you live?" 

         "Apartment building down Hillstring, but you can drop me off at Beckonham street if you don't feel like driving me all that way." 

No answer came out of the speakers as I took another sip of my coffee. 

     Taking off my sneakers, I brought my legs close to my chest. The seat under me was comfortable, and the suspension on the red beauty was flawless, like riding on a cloud, and I loved it. 

-Knockout's POV- 

     I don't know why I offered her a ride to get coffee. She seems to think I'm remote controlled, so I can see her more often that way. She did save my finish back there, how she knew I'm buffered right to left I don't think I'll ever know. She didn't leave any scratches, or dirt, meaning she's had a car before, and took good care of it. So where is it? Doesn't hurt to ask. 

         "Where's your car, in the shop?" 

She stared at her feet sullenly, perhaps I shouldn't have asked, if she starts crying I'll throw her out though. I am just as proud of my interior as I am my exterior. 

         "I don't know." 

Really? 'I don't know'? Must have been stolen then. No wonder she took care of my finish. Well, there's Beckonham, actually, I'll drive straight to her house. 

         "Which house is yours?" 

         "Apartment building, and its the third large prison to your right." 

Ha, she has no idea. 

     She got out after putting her shoes on. She must have realized that she caked my interior with mud, and, like I had predicted when I transformed around her earlier sleeping form, she offered to clean it up. 

         "Could you? I'm afraid I won't have time to do it myself." 

That was the truth. She ran inside, a light shining in one window not to long after she entered. Coming out, her arms were filled with cleaning products, some I didn't even recognize. Taking a towel, she wiped off most of the dry mud, leaving a residue of ick. It was hard not to question her methods. 

         "So," She started, "What's your name?" 

         "Why should I tell you?" 

         "I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours, besides, I have a feeling we'll meet each other again." 

Why she was even talking to me was confusing. So I asked her why, and she gave this answer: 

         "It's not weird for me to be talking to a car, even one that doesn't speak. I'm just glad there's a person who can talk back this time!" 

Wonder how she'd react knowing no 'person' is talking back. Maybe another time. Right now I have to make sure she does a good job with that sponge of hers... Why is the soap pink? That better not stain. Ugh, this is taking forever, and I have to get back before Starscream notices. I think the only part of his name that's correct about him is 'scream'. I can still here his high pitched holler from yesterday. Then again, who cares, he yells at me when I'm doing my work, so she can take her time. 

         "I just realized you dodged my earlier question, now answer it."

        "What if I don't."

         "I won't finish cleaning." 

She sure drives a hard bargain. A name for a good looking interior again? Yeah, that's worth it.

         "Knockout." 

         "Wow, I wish I could rename myself sooner now." 

She accepted it as a name, a real human name? 

         "Mine's (Y/N), though I plan on changing it to something more fitting to a street racer, something rebelious, like Wild Style!" 

         "That's more befitting for a DJ." 

         "Alright fine, how about... Sp... no that one's weird, oh how about Mosquito! Those things are fast! Or Bee!" 

         "NOT BEE!" 

She looked at my steering wheel, a face of confusion and surprise firmly planted. Looking for a way out of questions that I may or may not want to answer, I lied, sorta. 

         "I have... bad history with a certain... racer, named Bumblebee. Buuuuut," I admired my quick thinking, "You could always go for Wasp, or Yellow Jacket." 

The idea struck her as genious, and she chose Yellow Jacket, even commented on needing a yellow jacket to complete it. I chuckled, (Y/N) laughed. It was like a... a... well, not like the gafaws and taunting chuckles heard on the 'Nemesis' that's for sure. 

         "Will you be at the race tomorrow? I'd love to see you again!" 

She caught me off guard, not many can manage that. 

         "I don't think I could disappoint my fans like that." 

         "You have fans?" 

         "Okay, fan." 

         "That's more like it." 

She started drying my seat, leaving nothing but the leather looking as if nothing happened, not a single speck of dirt. (Y/N) really knows how to take care of a car, or rather, me. Wonder what her reaction would be if she knew... Maybe another time. 

         "How about I pick you up tomorrow? You won't have to walk that way, and the next race is a lot farther than last night's." 

         "Will I be able to see you?" 

         "What do you... oh, uh, no. You'll be able to hear me though." 

I thought that would be the deal breaker, but she said 'okay', and that she'll 'see my car tomorrow'. Picking up her cleaning supplies, she left with a smile, and a simple 'goodbye'. I saw the light come back on in the far left corner of the building. I'm definitely coming back, she's the first human to really understand me, and she doesn't even know what I am, or, if we're talking about character, who I am. This shall prove interesting. Perhaps She can be like a dog, or one of those furry four legged creatures humans keep for company, perhaps a... um... a cat? I'll worry about it later. In the mean time, I have to get back before Lord Scream-oh decides to- 

         "KNOCKOUT!" 

To late.