The Fast Lane (Lightning McQueen x Flynn Rider)

3

Lightning's POV

I'd never let anyone ride in me before. It felt weird having Flynn sit in my passenger seat. He kept poking around inside of me. I couldn't see him, but I felt his hands stroke my leather seats and pulling gently on my seatbelt. "Does this hurt?" He asked. "Is it okay to put on the seatbelt?"

"It's okay," I spoke through the radio. "It just kind of tickles."

He kept snooping around, opening up my glove box and playing with the visors. "It is kind of annoying with you poking and prodding everything."

"Sorry," Flynn replied.

We made it back to my place quickly. I am very fast so it was way to get there. I parked myself in my large garage. Sometimes I sleep in my garage so it is nice to have it be such a big room. It is one of the benefits of being super rich.

"Can you get out for a sec?" I asked Flynn.

He quickly unhooked the seatbelt and hopped out the door. "Speed. I am speed." I chanted as a felt the familiar warmth rush through me. I could feel my metal begun to grow and shift back to being skin. I started shrinking into a human-size shape. My hair and skin grew back and my clothes were back on the outside side of me. When the transformation was complete, I looked to where Flynn was standing. His eyes were wide and his skin was pale.

"I don't think I'd ever get used to that," he said.

I led him inside my house. It was more of a mansion. I do a lot of races (both in human form and car form) and they earn me a lot of money. I could tell that Flynn was looking at my trophy case. It went the full length of the wall in the great room and was full of silver and gold trophies and medals from track and car races. My biggest achievements are my piston cup trophies. Those were my favorite races.

"What's that one for?" Flynn asked about a lone first place trophy. My cheeks heated up when I realized what he was pointing to.

"Um, I did a season of dance when I was twelve." My face was probably as red as I am when I'm in car form.

Flynn's face broke out in a mischievous grin. "Please tell me it was ballet."

"It was ballet," I say, looking down at my shoes.

Flynn laughed maniacally and nonstop for twenty minutes. He pulled out his phone and looked up my dance video. That just made him laugh harder. I couldn't understand why, though. Dance is very serious. I cleared my throat. "I thought you wanted to talk about me being a car."

That made Flynn shut up. "Yes. I'm intrigued."