Oh, he doesn't need to control his vehicle.

She'll be doing that for him.

" - tr...ol..??"

Okay yeah he's been in this god damned fire engine for fuckin' fourteen hours and so help him he is done.  He's out.  "Thank you ma'am, I gotta, uh, bye!"  He is zooming to find a place he can pee that isn't in an Esperade bottle in the same cab as the coworker he maybe has a crush on.

(Firefighters aren't espers, but they have physical fitness requirements, okay?  Sue him.)

This time, she bothers using backlash.  She kicks a piece of concrete in the road, which bounces off the tire, which in turn smashes the carnapper drone.  "Clear."

There's a bit of a pause, then Flywheel steps a few meters away from the firetruck and starts the process of removing her biking jacket. (It requires taking off her backpack, which she carefully sets down on the ground as she shrugs her arms out of the leather sleeves.)

"Sinkhole, if you're still up for hugging Flywheel for guiding purposes, she's fine with doing that now."

(...for some definition of fine and also perhaps she, but that's not a problem for other people to be worrying about.)

"Sure.  I'll meet her on the side of the road.  She can make as much skin contact as she's comfortable with."  She'll stroll over to the doorway of...a sushi restaurant, apparently.  She hangs her jacket on the doorknob, revealing a dark green tanktop.  And she waits.  And vaguely worries that Flywheel will take that to mean 'strip down to nothing', she might be a naturist or something?  But that's just her brain making nonsense noises at her, instead of actually useful input.

Nope, Flywheel's also wearing a pretty standard guiding tank top underneath her jacket.

She carries it and her backpack over, sets them gently down on the ground, and then turns to face Sinkhole. 

Sinkhole pauses a few moments, waiting for Flywheel to initiate the hug - then chuckles a little.  C'mere, you.  She lifts her tanktop by a few inches, and gently places Flywheel's arms around her waist.  Her own arms go above Flywheel's clothing for the moment.

Flywheel, after a moment, leans into the hug, doing her best to maximize skin contact without making it weird. (Her best is pretty good.)

She's just - going to relax for a little bit.  So much of her experience with guiding is while she has to mud-wrestle her own emotions.  But this was barely any backlash*, and Flywheel is pretty compatible, and she's going to be done with these stupid little carnapper drones soon enough.

In some ways, it's easier than with Pinion.  There's no challenge here.  Just shut up and hold a pretty girl in her arms.  And don't get donked by the motorcycle helmet.  (Despite Flywheel's best efforts, that part is a little weird.  But Carol can overlook that for such a simple guiding experience.)

*it was a mild to moderate amount