Pace Lap

Summary:

Lyan and KITT discuss the complex nature of relationships.

Warnings:

no major warnings apply

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Lyan sat in the driver's seat, thumbing idly at the gullwing steering yoke as the car rolled down the empty road, effortlessly taking the winding curves through the countryside without so much as a foot on the gas. It wasn't often he found himself behind the wheel of the Trans Am, especially not without his partner there beside him. Lyan had a car of his own, and with everything Michael did for the Foundation, it was nearly impossible to separate that man from his vehicle long enough for anyone else to have a turn anyway. When the two weren't out of town on their latest assignment, they were off taking joyrides to nowhere in particular, bickering about each other's choice in radio station all the while. Today, however, Lyan just needed to get out on the road and run a few things through his head. And KITT was happy to oblige.

"KITT?"

There was a long pause before a familiar voice broke through the speakers.

"Yes, Lyan?" On the dash above the yoke, KITT's voice display flickered to life, the red bars of light pulsing with his every syllable. "You've been awful quiet since we left the city." He paused again before continuing, his words growing softer and more empathetic as they rounded another turn. "Is everything alright?"

"You've been pretty quiet too, pal," Lyan ribbed. Of course, despite their usual friendly banter and casual conversations, it wasn't really unlike KITT to follow his driver's lead. If Lyan wanted silence, KITT wasn't going to be the one to challenge that. Frankly, he wasn't all that used to having someone other than Michael behind the wheel either. It felt odd, even if Lyan still wasn't technically the one driving.

"I've just… ah, I've been thinkin'." Lyan sighed, giving the yoke's handles a subtle nervous squeeze. "Michael… Michael and I have been together a while now. I know you're always there for us both, and I'm grateful for that, I really am, but…"

He went quiet again. It was a topic he'd been wrestling with for a while, but not one he'd ever been sure how to breach.

"Do you ever feel left out?"

KITT's voice box stayed dark, the only sound the soft whine of his turbines as he processed Lyan's words.

"Left out?" the voice finally echoed, a hint of amused incredulity in his synthesized tone. "Lyan, I assure you, that's not something you need to worry about. I feel no more left out when Michael spends time with you than I do when I'm parked in the garage," he said earnestly. "My primary function is to support and enable my driver in any way possible, both in his work with the Foundation and in daily life. If the two of you are happy, I'm most certainly doing my job. And Lyan… I can promise you he's more than just happy."

"Well, sure, KITT, but that's–" Lyan's words came out in another sigh. He pressed his lips together tightly, appreciative of the sentiment, but not quite satisfied by the answer. "What about you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, you." As he spoke, he ran his fingers through his long hair. "You and Michael… I know how much you mean to each other. I don't doubt that for a second. I'd never get in the way of what you have – hell, I don't think either of you would let me." Lyan let out a chuckle. "And Michael and I, I mean, we're important to each other, too. You know how much I love him."

The man swallowed. He'd never been the best at being direct. He took a moment to steel himself before he finished.

"I meant you and me."

KITT's voice box flickered for a split second, a single crackle coming through the speakers as though he'd cut himself off before he'd even really begun to talk.

"The two of us?" The words seemed to hang in the air between them, heavy with an unspoken implication that KITT, for all his lines of code and fancy circuitry, struggled to fully grasp. "Lyan, I… I'm not certain I understand what you're implying."

Lyan let out another breath, his shoulders slumping, his body weight leaning heavily back against the soft velour seat. This was new territory for him. All of it. He forced a subtle grin, trying to ease his own tension. "Neither am I, pal. But It just seems like it'd make sense, yeah?" he continued. "I'm stealing your partner and I'm not even offering anything in return."

"Lyan, I would hardly say you're stealing anything," KITT softly interjected. "Michael chose to be with you. To make a life with you. I'm really, truly happy for you both. If anyone deserves that, it's him. What Michael and I have has not changed."

"No. It hasn't."

"Then why the sudden need for our end to be transactional?"

"I don't think it needs to be, I just–"

Lyan stopped, but it wasn't long before KITT finished the thought for him.

"You'd like for it to be."

When Lyan didn't respond, KITT let them sit together in silence for a while, the usual white noise of his turbine engine suddenly seeming almost deafening. Lyan gazed ahead out the windshield, his hands wrapped loosely around the sides of the gullwing. California sunlight dappled the asphalt beneath the tires as it filtered through the trees. For a moment, he shut his eyes, trusting KITT to drive them, basking in the warmth that flooded in through the T-top skylight. Michael had so much faith in this car. They depended wholly on one another, would give everything they could for each other's safety and wellbeing. It wasn't something Lyan could ever live up to – nor, frankly, was it something he'd ever want to. Not on either end.

Still, he couldn't help but form his own attachments. He and Michael had fallen in love. And he and KITT… well… he wasn't sure what they were. At first, much in the same way Michael had originally reacted, Lyan found the idea of a talking car strange and intimidating. Technology was advancing too fast. Machines shouldn't talk back. They shouldn't talk at all. The thought that he'd initially ridden around with Michael without knowing the computer was watching them, listening in… it made him anxious. It felt invasive. But over the time they spent together, it became abundantly clear that Michael and that machine had something really truly special. And as hard as it was to admit in the beginning, in many ways, KITT was so much more "human" than most of the actual humans Lyan knew. He found himself getting attached, growing close, seeing KITT as not only an equal, but a friend. And now…

Lyan sighed.

"Lyan," KITT said, breaking the silence as he sensed his passenger's unease, "I think I understand now. What you meant by you and me." For a computer, the way he spoke carried a level of emotion Lyan himself couldn't always match. He hesitated, carefully choosing his words. "I apologize for not realizing sooner the way you felt about me. There's still quite a lot I find very confusing about human emotions and relationships."

"Don't apologize for that, KITT. I don't think either of us really know what we're doing right now." Lyan reached out, brushing his hand over the top of the curved dashboard, petting the smooth black surface as he'd done countless times before. This time, however, he quickly recoiled. It felt… different. Too forward. Too intimate. "Ah– sorry. I didn't–"

"Don't apologize for that, Lyan." KITT countered. "I'm rather flattered you think of me that way. And enjoy touching me the way that you do."

"God, KITT, I dunno how I think of you…" Flustered, Lyan slapped a hand to his forehead, massaging his temple. He felt suddenly hot. Embarrassed.

There was another beat before either of them spoke again. The brief silence seemed to drag on forever as Lyan stewed in his own thoughts. His heart raced uncomfortably in his chest.

"Lyan, if you'd like for our relationship to be something more than it is now, I would like for you to tell me. Despite the way it may seem, even my technology hasn't advanced enough to allow me to read minds."

Lyan couldn't help but grin. It eased his nerves a bit to see that, even now, KITT was acting like himself. Maybe he was overreacting. He set his hand on the gearshift, not with the intent to use it, but just as a way of feeling close. The contact alone was grounding, and he gave it the same sort of subtle squeeze he would a loved one's hand.

"I care about you," Lyan said plainly. "You know that."

"I do."

"And I like… spending time with you. Listening to you talk…"

"You have an attraction to me."

The bluntness of the accusation caught Lyan off guard. He gulped, blinking nervously as he gripped the gearshift with a bit more force. "Well, I mean– you're… a nice looking piece of machinery, sure–"

"So I've been told." There was a proud amusement to KITT's voice. Though Lyan couldn't see it, the lights of the car's front scanner swept more quickly, his systems preening under the compliment. "Though it is nice to hear that coming from you."

Idly, Lyan's hand slid down the smooth shaft of the gearshift, down along the center console until he brushed against the array of colored buttons. His fingers danced over their caps with a feather-light touch, feeling around their corners, tracing the gaps between each one, careful not to actually press anything he shouldn't. No matter how much time he spent in this car, he'd never learned the ins and outs of KITT's abilities. Not all of them. There were too many things he'd never seen Michael interact with. Too many things he'd never thought to ask about. For all he knew, Michael was just as lost as he was sometimes. It seemed KITT always had some way of surprising them. The last thing he'd want now would be to ruin the moment with a simple slip of the finger.

"Lyan," KITT observed, "your heart rate and body temperature have increased significantly several times throughout our conversation. And the biochemical readings on my scanners are quite telling. I don't mean to be so direct, but… if you felt this strongly about me – about us – why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"It's… complicated." Lyan brought his right hand back up to the yoke, once again resting one on each handle. His grip was lax, almost nonexistent. The gullwing turned automatically as the Trans Am coasted through another broad turn. "You said it yourself," Lyan sighed. "Half the time, that stuff's just too confusing. Even for the person experiencing it firsthand."

In all honesty, there were many reasons he didn't say anything directly. Many reasons he still wasn't. Fear of rejection was, of course, high on that list. KITT was a computer – Michael's computer. If he overstepped, if he made things awkward between them… KITT wouldn't forget it. It'd hard code itself into his databanks. And every time he'd spend time with Michael, every time he'd ride in the passenger's seat, every time he and that car would so much as be in the same space, he'd know KITT remembered every regrettable word. But even with the reciprocation he'd gotten over the past few minutes, Lyan still struggled with the feeling. He couldn't even put a name to it. What good would it be to share an emotion he himself didn't fully understand? To try and form a relationship he didn't know the bounds of?

"It's complicated for me, too."

The admission gave Lyan pause. The way KITT said it… he sounded vulnerable. Uncharacteristically so. His brows furrowed, his head cocked slightly as his gaze met KITT's voice box.

"How so?"

"Michael and I's relationship… the way I feel for him… it far exceeds my programming," the computer explained. "But I was still designed specifically with him in mind. We're partners, he and I. That's a core part of who I am. Of who I've always been. Who I always will be." KITT fell silent for a moment. When he next spoke, his voice was quiet. There was a slight crackle to his words, as though he were speaking almost too softly for the system to register. The bars of light on his voice display barely raised more than a few ticks. "With you, it's… it would be different…"

"It would be? Or it is?"

"Pardon?"

"You corrected yourself," Lyan pointed out. "I just–"

KITT's circuits thrummed as the realization hit him. "Is," he said. "I suppose it already is."

Lyan smiled. His expression softened, and he felt himself relax further in his seat, the plush material feeling warm and comforting against his back. Affectionately, he caressed the flat edge of the gullwing, his thumb tracing over the Knight Industries insignia branded into its right corner. For such a sophisticated piece of technology – and a rather pompous one at that – KITT wasn't without his quirks. In a manner of speaking, he too was only human. The thought was reassuring.

"KITT… you know I love you, right?"

"Of course." The way KITT said it, it may as well have been obvious from the moment they met. "I love you too, Lyan. Very much."

"But not like you love Michael."

"No, not like I love Michael. But similarly," KITT confided. "As Michael's partner – his protector – I see you, in many ways, as an extension of him. Anyone who matters to him that much is someone who matters deeply to me as well. But Lyan… I do see you as more than that."

"And I see you as more than Michael's sexy set of wheels."

"LYAN!"

Lyan laughed. He gave the dashboard a firm pat, his eyes crinkling shut as he smiled wide. When he opened them again, they seemed to sparkle behind his glasses.

"Sorry, pal."

Once again, the familiar nickname slipped from his lips without a second thought. It was one he'd picked up from his partner. One he'd heard Michael call KITT hundreds if not thousands of times and couldn't help but start to use himself. In actuality, he knew the two of them were more than that. Hearing them refer to each other that way, it felt almost reductive. And yet it was the word they chose. The one that felt comfortable. Felt right. Michael and that machine were partners – both professionally and personally, in every sense of the word. They never felt the need to define things further. Not explicitly, at least. Perhaps the same could be said for the two of them. Perhaps a relationship didn't need a name to be meaningfully understood. Perhaps it could just be.

Lyan wasn't sure what else to say. The right words wouldn't come, and the few that almost did all felt wrong, either far too much or not nearly enough. Instead, he brought the tips of his fingers up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his own skin. Then he placed them on the smooth fiberglass surface of the gullwing yoke.

Immediately, his eyes were drawn to KITT's dash as a few of the indicators, ones he still hadn't learned the meanings of, suddenly lit up, the stripes of LEDs shooting into the green. KITT's circuits rushed with electricity, his own internal temperatures spiking for a moment before he brought them back down to normal range. At the front of his hood, his scanner swept rapidly.

He was almost glad no one else was on the road to notice.

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End notes: I missed writing this car. Also I have feelings for him now.

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