[Story]First times

[Dartz]

A slight rewrite of something else. Retconned Jet and Ford spending time in America in 2017-19... it became obvious it'd be out of character for Ford, and the trigger event on Jets side has been averted by the Highway Star story and Jet finding balance in her life and getting a hobby outside the Panzer Kunst.

So, January 2016, Ford Sierra tries on a new suit.

Ford looked down at her body, at her own reflection in the green armour. It was her first time wearing the finished hardsuit.

“Whoa that feels....” She stopped, her mind not really able to put words to the sensations. She held up her now armoured fingers, looking at her own reflection warped across the battlesteel. She clenched and released her hand... her natural hand, listening to the metal fingers clack-clacking against the steel palm.

“Weird?” Jet finished for her.

“Yeah” nodded Ford. “Hard to describe. It really doesn't feel like it's myself.... if that makes sense.”

Jet smiled softly, “It does,”

“I mean, I know it's me in here,,, but look at me,” she held up her arms, “It should be heavy, but it feels so light.”

So, all those hours spent adjusting the actuators came good.

“It's not binding, or going stiff?”

“Not that I can feel. Maybe if I try walk around,”

Carefully, she took one step forward. The solid-ankle boots matched the source material... the heels making enough room for some light thrusters, bought in from the Forge. A bulge along the back of the calf formed the intake of the engines, giving the lower legs an oddly bulky look, compared to Jet's own.

Ford took another step, looking down at her toes. “It's like wearing stilts,” she mumbled to herself. Carefully, one foot in front of the other, she moved forward.

Tak-tak-tak went her feet on the concrete floor.

“Just be careful,” Jet warned, her voice soft. “You really don't know your own strength.”

Sierra picked up the helmet, turning it over in her hands.

“It feels like.... power steering. All light.... there's no feel or anything. It's like the helmet's made of styrofoam or something.”

It was absolutely and utterly alien. She swung it. It wasn't even there. It really felt like hollow foam, if even that. Grip too tightly and it'd just crumble. What would this do to a human? She placed it carefully down onto the workbench.

“Is this... do you get the same thing?”

“Yeah,” Jet grinned. “That means everything's working fine.”

Moving around still had a strange ethereal quality to it. Everything felt so easy. Armour that weighed over a hundred kilos felt like air. It just wasn't there when she moved. It still pressed snuggly on her body... but it felt far more like an ideal skinsuit that a full set of body armour. Everything was fluid and natural.

Including effortlessly lifting a full axle assembly over her head. She tried some of her tools on for size. An old chrome-vanadium spanner bent like a cheap spoon. It was staggering. It was unsettling. It was marvellously intoxicating. It was safe. It was terrifying. It was a power that suggested anything was possible. She tried to pick up a mug. It shattered as her fingers closed on it much too tightly.

“Fuck,” she said. This was tricky. “Didn't even feel like I had it until it broke,”

Jet sniggered “Welcome to my world.”

Ford grimaced. “A world of cardboard. Everything feels like it's made of glass and eggshells. There's no feeling of how much pressure I'm putting on it. I can barely tell that I'm touching anything.” she paused. She tried another cup, slowly closing her hand around it. Her brow furrowed “This takes a lot of concentration,”

Jet laughed “... Yeah it does,”

Ford scowled at her. “I'd like to have seen how well you did,”

She gave a bashful blush. “There wasn't a doorknob or cup left in my old house after a week,”

Ford's laugh was almost like a bark. It filled the garage and rang off the walls. “Well I guess I'm doing a little better.”

The cup was dangling from her finger.

Jet planted her arms firmly on her hips, throwing herself into a comic pout. “You aren't in the post-wave panick, or having a big explosion of new radio senses and digital stuff going off in your brain at the same time.”

Ford didn't stop laughing. “Y'know you're cute when you do that?”

“I know, that's why I do it.” She spun on her toe, back to Ford, legs split apart planted hard on the ground. With a flick, her red hair arced over her shoulder as she turned her head back to Ford. Drop her right shoulder, cant her hips over ever so slightly shifting her weight to her left leg, snap both wings out and throw Ford the most luscious smirk she could manage. “And I'm dead sexy when I do this,”

She licked her finger, before pointing directly at Ford. Liquid reflections of overhead lights flowed across the polished curves of her armoured body, highlighting a figure Jet didn't often show off.

Ford smiled warmly “Yes, yes you are.”

“I've been taking lessons,” said Jet.

“I love it when you show this side of you,”

“And I love showing this side of me to you,” Jets voice was like velvet. “And only you,” She turned to face Ford with a mischievous gleam in her eye. “And now I can show you the fun side of the rotary polisher,”

A rotary polisher and some CosmoPolish was one of their best kept secrets. Vanity wasn't the only reason Jet's armour was regularly buffed to a thick lustrous shine.

Ford shifted her weight uncomfortably, “I'd rather not. Not with all the plumbing connections the skinsuit needs. It'd just be painful,”

The disappointment on Jet's face was obvious. “But there's just one other thing I've been wanting to do for a long time,”

“What?” Ford looked a little uneasy.

“This.”

Jet's sheer strength startled Ford... her first instinct was to push and fight back. She quenched that fast, feeling Jets arms lock tightly around her back...oddly distant through the armour be still reassuring firm. The battlesteel creaked as it took up the strain, but it held fast. It was when Jet gently pressed the warn skin of her cheek against her own that Sierra finally figured out what Jet was doing.

She was hugging her.

For the first time since they'd met, Jet was really able to hug her.

“I've been wanted to do this for years,” Jet whispered, her voice tickling Ford's ear.

Level with each other, cheek to cheek, the warmth of Jet's face soaking through. The smell of CosmoPolish and metal. The smell of perfume and engine oil.She felt herself relax and lean forward, stepping into the embrace. There was a scratch of metal on metal contact, a jarring shock, as their legs slid over each other. Standing waist to waist, chest to chest, still holding each other. They stood for a few heartbeats of eternity, before Jet gently turned her head, and kissed Ford on the cheek.

She was startled when Ford turned, and met her lips with her own. Soft, yielding. Jet could taste dinner on her lips, mixed with an electric tingle that sent shivers through her body. Her chest felt ready to explode out of the metal breastplate.

Ford was amazed to find how, mechanical, Jets breath was. Oddly dry, with a metallic edge broken by that strawberry chapstick Jet always used to keep her lips from freezing in vacuum.

It was peaceful. It was thrilling. It was their first proper kiss since they'd met. It came to an end far too soon.

There were tears in Jets eyes, trickling down her cheeks. “I've been wanting to do that for so long, but I was always afraid I'd hurt you,”

“It would've been worth the risk,” said Ford with a satisfied smile.

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--m(^0^)m-- Wot, no sig?