Knight Rider 2010
Trapping Knight With A Queen
Written by
Ldydeb
Wednesday. Hump Day. Restaurants and bars full of people celebrating the coming holiday weekend even though the ugly grayish-black clouds ambushed the sun – advancing the thunderstorms that approached from the chilly northwest. The innocent bystanders of this nature's battle tried to escape the streets of Los Angeles, ducking in and out of doorways, before the light summer sprinkle changed to a waterfall-like downpour. Inside KITT, Michael Knight sat comfortably dry, amused by the irritated confusion around him, his hands keeping time with the rhythm of the song on the radio. The day was his…rare time away from chasing the scum of the earth, from the tension of having his life constantly in jeopardy. He planned to enjoy as much as of it as he could, the thought of the bitter-sweet richness of a cold caramel foam bubbling out of the depths of a black-brewed Guinness already teasing and tantalizing his throat. He had spent the morning catching up on some much needed sleep, ignoring any attempts Devon or Bonnie made on the comp-link to get his attention. It was bad enough that he rolled over after making love to the beautiful woman in his dreams only to find himself alone – the bedding on the left side of his pillow still neat and unwrinkled – empty. There has to be more to my life! He complained to no one before getting out of bed. It had taken all his energy to cinch the strap of his link to KITT around his wrist. Out of boredom, he escaped his apartment on the grounds of the Foundation for Law and Government to a nearby fitness club where he earned his current appetite on the weight machines and the running track. He programmed KITT with the route to one of his favorite restaurants, where they were now headed. The memory of the menu in his head, he decided that a nice plump, juicy-red NY Strip with all the trimmings would be a great way to wait out the storm. Unless, of course, the restaurant's daily special appealed better to his appetite.
As was their usual practice, Michael maneuvered KITT into the restaurant's main entrance under a large red and white checked canopy. Slipping into a dark brown sport jacket, He waived off the approaching valet as an outlandishly expensive foreign sports car screeched to a halt. KITT pulled away – narrowly getting hit - to find a safe, out of the way parking space. Michael greeted the hostess at the podium outside the entrance with his reservation. While he waited for her to check on the status, his dark blue eyes caught notice of the valet approaching the sport car's passenger door as it opened. A very delicate bracelet-wearing, feminine hand reached out for assistance. The voice of the driver was easily heard commanding, "Wait for me. I'll take care of you". The driver emerged from the vehicle, again hissing the command, "I said wait for me!" and the keys to the car flew through the air interrupting the valet's motions so that he could catch them. The driver's attitude and stride around the front of the car to the curb announced his arrogance, his self-importance. This wolfish rake smoothed down the sides of his very black, fine linen dinner jacket, making sure his appearance was impeccable, aware his chiseled looks attracted the attention of both women and men. His smile was not one of welcoming and warmth; it only invited people to appreciate his command of his surroundings and good looks. His eyes scanned the entire area. His alert stance, the power in his walk, the strength in his build, and his constant precautionary attention to his surroundings instantly conveyed prior military experience to Michael. This was not a person to mess with and those around him rushed to make sure he remained happy. Michael heard his patronizing instructions to the valet on how to treat and park his car. Finally the man reached his muscular, finely manicured paw down to take the hand of his companion; her deep orange kitten-heeled foot stepping to the ground at the same time. The man noticed and said, sounding like he was trying to whisper but knowing full well he was not, "I thought I sent you a pair of stilettos to wear with this? These do not match your dress. Sometimes I think you try to embarrass me on purpose."
Now Michael, like the other restaurant patrons who'd overheard the conversation, waited to see what the gentleman was complaining about. Michael, however, thought the man showed bad manners in talking so rudely to his companion. Then the woman's head finally rose out of the passenger seat, the remainder of her firm, curvy form meeting her companion on the curb. Michael drew in a long breath. He adjusted his clothing, his shoulders moving to bring in some cool air – his clothes a little too tight due to the warmth of the afternoon. Michael wanted to turn away, but was as captivated as those around him. His ears caught the few soft whistles of appreciation from men and under-the-breath compliments from the women floating through the air. Many were bewildered by the man's disparaging remarks when in reality she was flawless, beautiful. The sleeves of her dress were thin bands that rested over her shoulders and helped to form a low, round neckline that framed a gold chain of sparsely placed deep purple amethysts and orange topazes laid comfortably, yet demurely over her sun-bronzed, full breasts. Her shoulders would have been bare if not for the light, soft and pale yellow sweater draped over them. The bodice of the dress was fashioned in the 1920's flapper style with a drop waist that banded in small dark copper lacy-ribbon trim that rested around her hips. The material of the dress was in two layers. The top layer - soft, filmy transparent silks in multi-shades of orange, purples, greens, and yellows. The skirt of these layers was cut handkerchief style floating in triangles around her knees. The dark orange under-layer made of soft, crinkled satin ended about mid-thigh. It could have been considered a too-short mini skirt if not for the longer layers of silk over the top. To compliment the neckline, the woman wore her thick sun-kissed dark-golden-brown-red hair in a pile of curls pulled Grecian-style to the back and top of her head. The curls wildly cascaded around her neck and down her shoulders in loose ringlets. Her shoes matched exactly, yet she very quietly responded, "I'm sorry. The strap broke as I was putting them on." Her walk up the slightly rising carpeted pavement revealed and hid skin with each step, inspiring many of the men around her to shift uncomfortably. Michael's own thoughts appreciated her unconsciously provocative, yet not-vulgar movements until he noticed no smile, no enjoyment of the situation in her subtly cosmetic-covered, deep jade-green eyes, which evaded her companion and instead looked down in submission. Maybe it was because of his training, but Michael continued to overhear the couple's interaction, though most of their other "audience" had returned to their own conversation while waiting for their reservations to be called.
The man nudged her downcast face and offered, "Oh, what am I going to do with you, dear. Just another sign of how much you need me. Now please don't spoil this and let's go have fun. We'll talk about the other matter later." The two exchanged looks…the man's one of warning, the woman's one of embarrassed fear. She released a sigh and nodded, a very small smile to appease him forming on only her lips. The woman appeared fragile next to the size and build of her companion. Though she was not short, he towered over her and enjoyed being able to do so. The man took possession of the back of the woman's waist, the message of who was in charge and whom she belonged to broadcast to all witnessing their exchange. He guided her towards where Michael waited. The man said something in the woman's ear. She looked from her friend to Michael and then it seemed as if she did not want to comply with whatever the man asked of her. After a few seconds and more words between them, the woman walked behind her companion, shoving her purse in the crook under her arm, and assisted him in making his dark blond ponytail neater. She smoothed it to rest at the back of the neck of his jacket, the action evidence of their intimacy with each other. While she worked, Michael could have sworn her eyes began studying him but her gaze also scanned her "audience" and he realized she was humiliated, agitated. When her task was complete, the man held out his arm in expectation of the woman obediently coming to stand by his side, his lips delicately brushing her cheek, nuzzling against her ear in an appearance of affection. The knowledge that he made her uncomfortable and helpless to stop him twinkled in his cruel eyes. Her face showed very little reaction or emotion except for the continued slight evidence of resignation and embarrassment. She seemed to know that she was dressed to be paraded. Michael and the others forced to watch.
The couple approached the maitre d, while Michael entered the restaurant at the bidding of his hostess. As Michael passed the maître d's podium, this beautiful woman lost her balance. Her hand reached out in panic; Michael automatically taking hold as his other hand instinctively embraced her elbow to steady her before she fell over his foot. Her free hand grabbed onto the podium as she fought to maintain her composure and remain on her feet. Her eyes turned a curious glance to her rescuer. She let go as quickly as Michael caught her and looked back at her companion as he pulled her away. The dirty look shot at Michael clearly shouted Mine! To avoid more problems, the woman decided it was better to dismiss Michael from her attentions though she seemed to want to say something to him. Both the approaching hostess and her companion's hold on her wrist prevented it. Michael felt watched as he continued along the path into the restaurant, listening to the man warn his companion to be careful and her voice again apologizing to him for his uncaring rudeness.
Grateful not have to continue witnessing the spectacle, Michael followed one of the hostesses to an empty booth, which was surrounded on three sides by floral patterned screens to offer privacy. It was located near one of the restaurant's cozy open-hearth fireplaces. As they walked the smell of the fire tried to fill the room with cheerful spirits despite the approaching storms. But Michael only felt uncomfortably warm, the scent of exotic cinnamon and spicy ginger bounced off the hand that had caught her tender wrist and lingered around him. He quickly escaped the stifling feeling of his jacket, setting it neatly on the booth's seat. He made himself comfortable as the hostess handed him the menu, "Welcome to Private Kisses, Mr. Knight. Your attendant will be with you soon." Before the hostess departed, Michael requested her to send over a tall, ice-cold Guinness.
After informing Michael's table-server of his drink order, the hostess returned to the entrance, opening the door for one of the restaurant's male hosts who lead the sports car man inside. The man scanned the restaurant, again desiring all to notice him, his companion following meekly behind. The man reached for the host's shoulder, spoke a few words to him, their hands coming together with the added exchange of promising smiles and a token of appreciation. The host nodded and instructed, "Please follow me". The man stood aside, slightly bowed like a gentleman and motioned for the beautiful woman to walk ahead. She suddenly became very self-conscience and timid, balking at her companion's offer. The Host repeated, "This way, Please." With eye lids a bit lowered and a hope of not calling any more attention to herself, the woman faltered in her delicate steps along the path the host lead her with her companion stalking very close behind. The path led to a booth not far behind Michael's. The woman's stressed and exasperated voice reached Michael's attention, "Damn!" when as she passed, her purse dropped from the crook of her arm. Michael followed her eyes as she quickly scanned the area around her to the spot where the purse had landed…under Michael's table. Though she had hoped no one, especially Michael, was paying attention to her and her predicament, the woman gently left the imprint of her hand on Michael's shoulder, voice surrendering her previous wish of anonymity, "Sir…umm…I beg your pardon?" Her eyes rolled in frustration as she precariously lowered herself to sway on her heels to retrieve her purse, her hand moving from his shoulder to hold on to the edge of the table. Wanting to help, Michael reached down for the item also and they collided into each other. Michael was forced to again catch the woman as she lost her balance and almost landed in his lap. The purse fell back to the ground. Her face turning several shades of pink, the woman returned to crouching on her knees to regain her balance, one hand holding onto the table the other hand gingerly rubbing her head. With embarrassment and a hint of irritation, she murmured, "I am so sorry."
To ease the situation, Michael grinned in amusement and offered, "Here." He reached down again under his table, found, and returned the purse to her while inquiring, "Are you all right?"
Grinning blue eyes met mortified green as the woman tentatively reclaimed her purse with a grateful response, "I'm fine, thank you. I am so sorry…I don't kno…."
"Please don't apologize," Michael laughed, "I rather enjoy bumping into beautiful women. I hope you enjoy your dinner."
Finally her eyes flashed a real smile as the woman shyly giggled at Michael's attempt to flatter and ease her embarrassment. "Thank you." Michael extended his hand to help her rise until she was yanked up via her forearm and elbow by her friend semi-roughly guiding her to continue following the host the last few steps to another semi-private booth within eyesight of Michael's. The gentleman glared at Michael, his hand again taking possession of the woman's waist.
Before the host left, the man, with irritation heavy in his voice, ordered, "I need a vodka martini, very dry, no olives."
The host responded, "and for you, Ma'am"
Before she could respond, the man answered, "The lady (sounding like he meant "slut") will have white wine." His tone again warned her not to contest his decision.
The moment the host had given them their menus and left them alone, the gentleman pounced, "What is your problem tonight, are you trying to ruin our evening together? First you refuse to wear the gift I bought especially for tonight. Then you flirt with a man in front of me. I thought we were here to make things better."
Quietly Selena defended, her face becoming pink again, "And I thought you promised it would not be like this, that you wouldn't embarrass me again. You never said this would be…." Her companion cut her off with his eyes before she could finish. She got the message, but stubbornly asserted, "Well, I was not flirting? My purse fell and I bumped my head while trying to pick it up. You saw what happened."
He looked over his menu and countered, "Yes, you dropped your purse, but what about outside? You drew the attention of every man here, then when you found the one you wanted, you…you got his attention by stumbling over him. So forgive me if I don't believe your dropping your purse was an accident."
The woman whispered, "Patrick, please don't do this. Not here, not now. Don't let…I was not flirting I swear. I don't know what happened outside and my purse did slip. Please, you promised!"
"Selena, why did you bother to take time to smile and talk? And you giggled! I heard you. The smart response over such an embarrassing moment would have been to let the host retrieve your purse, not to throw yourself into a man's lap and then make conversation."
Michael couldn't help but listen to the woman he now knew was named Selena try to defend herself, explaining that she was only being polite; the man at the table was being a gentleman. Their heated discussion lost steam when the server came to take their order. Michael hoped Selena's friend would drop the matter before he caused a scene. The screens surrounding the booths only offered a limited amount of privacy. Michael and a few other patrons from nearby tables witnessed the man called Patrick lay his hand over Selena's as he addressed the server to order from the menu for both of them, without ever asking Selena what she preferred.
Soon after the attendant left, the argument resumes. "You were flirting with him, Selena, even though I do all these things to try to make you happy. I thought we were here to make up, but you insist on making me upset. We both know you don't want me to get upset." Michael felt uncomfortable enough being able to overhear them, but he had to take several deep breaths when the man refused to let go of the woman's wrist, his hand twisting slightly - beginning to let her know just how he felt about the situation.
To Michael's part relief and slight annoyance Selena remained calm and pleaded in soft tones, "Patrick, please let it go. No matter what I say, I'm wrong. I am sorry for upsetting you. People are beginning to stare at us. You wanted to come here, so please let's just eat and get this over with."
From the booth behind, Michael gave up trying not to overhear any more of their argument. He was concerned for the woman being harassed by an obviously over jealous and controlling boyfriend. He felt a little responsible for her and tried not to eavesdrop anymore as they continued to quietly argue. Their voices broke off their duel upon the arrival of their liquor. From his vantage point, Michael watched soft rose lips hiding behind a sip of crystal, transparent gold liquid passing from the wine glass into her throat. The liquid exhibited a slight tremor within the glass until the stem was returned to the table. The delicate fingers of one hand squeezed tightly into her palms, flexing around the glass, before succumbing to the need for another large taste of the heddy elixier. Where the other hand rested Michael could not see. She refrained from looking anywhere but at the wine glass.
Patrick tossed his napkin to the table, drank down his martini, tossed the glass on its side next to the napkin, and scolded, "Well, my lovely Selena, you have managed to do it again. I've lost my appetite and now I want to leave." He stood, threw money on the table, and left without waiting for a stunned Selena.
Hoping to help make amends Michael stood, as Selena sighed and pulled herself out of the booth. Michael reached for her hand in assistance. He was about to speak, but Patrick marched back to get Selena. Before he could grab for Selena's hand, Michael put himself between the couple. Speaking directly to Patrick, Michael offered, "Sir, if I may, I'd like to apologize if I have caused any friction between you and your friend. Only the best of intentions were considered when I helped the lady find her purse."
Selena tried to respond, her voice reflecting her feelings of gratitude and astonishment for this stranger's generous and unexpected actions.
Patrick possessively took Selena's arm to escort her away from the table. He spoke to Michael, condescension in the tone of his voice, "Never mind, Sir, this matter is none of your affair."
Wanting to hide under a table, Selena pulled away from him. Patrick responded by again walking away leaving her to apologize. Taking a deep breath she smiled as if not upset by his actions only her eyes speaking the truth, "I am very sorry to have ruined your dinner too. I..."
Interrupting her efforts to make amends, Patrick returned commenting sarcastically, "Are you coming with me or are you going to stay and chat with this stranger." The couple's eyes met and there appeared a faint hint of fear in Selena's. He walked away angrily pulling Selena roughly and quickly alongside him. She made sure she didn't do anything else to upset him or cause attention to herself.
Sitting back into his booth, Michael shook his head in disapproval while trying to finish his dinner. He couldn't understand how such a beautiful woman could let herself be treated like that. She was obviously afraid of the man and the man took advantage. The woman's image became a snapshot in his memory. He wondered what her smile would look like, clearly seeing how her face would light up. Amused over his wild thoughts, he joked to himself, "Maybe I should have with flirted with her. Then I could save her from that idiot."
For the next half hour, Michael had a hard time trying to finish his dinner. His appetite had lessened as he thought about the fighting couple. He paid the bill and went to find KITT, who waited for him at the end of canopied walkway. As he drove KITT out of the parking lot, Michael related, "Buddy, did you catch any of that scene between that couple?" He began to tell KITT the remainder of the incident when he approached a light about three blocks from the restaurant. As he waited for the light to change to green, he saw the woman still haunting his thoughts huddled inside the doorway of a closed office building. Her efforts to pull her clinging dress away from her legs became an intense lesson in futility. Strands of her hair escaped the pins holding it up to lay in matted, saturated sections down her back. Pulling up to the curb along side her, Michael grabbed his umbrella from the seat behind and went out after her before she could run to the next shelter. Shielding her from the rain, Michael asked, "What are you doing out here? Can I give you a lift or something?"
Feeling a sense of dread about her luck, Selena recognized Michael instantly. Trying to salvage some of her dignity, she refused, "No, thank you. There should be a cab any minute."
The sky lit up with a display of lightning and the sound of thunder simultaneously with a sneeze escaping from Selena's nose. Feeling sorry for her, Michael insisted, "I'm going to give you a ride home, Lady." Ignoring her objections, Michael threw his jacket over her shoulders; gently guided her to sit inside KITT. Shivering inside Michael's jacket, Selena gazed in amazement at the instruments inside KITT. For a brief moment, she forgot being wet and cold. Her curious and fearful eyes scanned the instrument panel, the computer terminal flashing data, and buttons labeled "turbo boost", "Laser". The moment Michael entered the vehicle, she voiced her insecurity, "I don't think I should be in here. What kind of car is this?"
KITT took control of the situation and answered, "Relax, Miss. We're glad to help."
The woman bolted upright in her seat grabbing for the door handle to escape as she remarked in shock, "Oh my God, it talks!"
KITT spat indignantly, "I am not on it, Madame! I am The Knight Industries Two Thousand - a highly intelligent and sophisticated computer. You have just insulted me!"
Still unsure, the woman looked to Michael for help. Becoming referee Michael scolded, "KITT, please be nice for once. This nice lady has had enough problems for one day." Michael observed his companion's frightened eyes apprehensively scoping out KITT. He realized that he would have to do something to ease her fears and help her to feel more comfortable, "Now that you've met my friend, I am Michael Knight. And I hope I wasn't the cause of you getting stranded in the rain? Are you OK?"
Hesitantly, the woman sniffled, "And I am Selena. And I'm fine…well, I will be." With her fear easing the cold dampness of her dress increased to an uncomfortable level. Awkwardly she pulled the jacket Michael had offered her around her shoulders more closely. She let her eyes roam KITT's instruments looking for a mirror. In her mind's eye, she could almost imagine what she looked like, seeing the mascara she felt racing down her cheeks and her hair dripping down her face and neck. She knew she was a mess. Another sneeze forced its way out and KITT adjusted his interior temperature to keep her warm. Her thoughts replayed the argument that got her abandoned in her mind. She was both irritated and thankful that she had not gotten worse.
Michael concluded, "Did he abandon you because of me?"
Selena lied, her words harsh, her tone acidic, "No, what happened was not your fault. And now it is over. I should not have been with him in the first place." She looked toward the window, retreating into herself to stop the thoughts there.
Michael wanted to probe a bit more to make sure she was telling the truth and that she was not being abused in anyway. But he could tell she was still feeling the humiliation of the situation. So, the topic of the how she got abandoned was dropped. Instead he asked for her address and programmed the information into KITT's system. He tried to make their conversation grow out of other things. They found they had many common interests like the same taste in food, music. KITT drove into a small cul-de-sac, then to a two-story at the end of a dead end street, with Selena confirming that the house was her home. As they entered the driveway, Selena let out a frustrated sigh at the site of her maroon convertible's top left down. "This is not happening," poured from her lips from under her breath, her hand holding her head as if in pain. The open interior was slowly becoming a pool of dirty water, floating leaves and other debris, flooded in the storm. Before Michael could stop her, she jumped out and ran up the driveway to salvage her car. She tried to get the top unlatched but it was stuck. Laughing Michael came up at that moment to help her.
Minutes later, the pair had finished their task and stood inside Selena's entrance hall. Water dripped from their hair, their fingers. As Michael stepped through the door, his shoes squished, water gushing out the sides. The denim of his dark jeans clung heavily against his legs with the weight of the water. Selena carried her heels, her bare feet leaving a dirty footprint on the tile. The triangles of the dress gathered in wrinkled, soaked clumps that twisted and hung around her legs. The pair looked at each other trying to dry out and began laughing at their mess. Selena offered Michael coffee and a chance to dry off next to a warm fireplace. When he accepted, she expressed her pleasure and suggested he wait for her in the living room, which she pointed the way to. Then she excused herself and disappeared up a short flight of stairs and into a hallway that went off to the left. Michael heard her footfalls as he followed where Selena's finger pointed. He stepped down into the rustically decorated family room. The walls covered in wood paneling and a floor softly carpeted in rich golden-beige tones. Passing another closed door, he bumped into several bar stools gathered around a two-tiered, mixed gray and red-specked granite-topped lower bar and upper counter combination that also helped to separate the family room from the kitchen, which opened up off to the right. A few steps beyond the counter, sort of making an imaginary doorway, a round wood dining room table surrounded by rolling wood and tan-striped, colored, cloth-seated chairs joined the kitchen and family room. Opposite the kitchen/dining area, several pieces of well-worn furniture stretched out, forming a comfortable conversation area along side of the family room wall. The long red, beige, and brown striped couch with an end table attached to each end butted up to the wall while it's matching large easy chair and ottoman rested a couple of feet in front of a pair of sliding-glass doors that were fashionably-draped in dark olive-green long window scarves over ivory vertical blinds. The doors opened out to a metal roof-covered patio. Finally, two over-stuffed rocking chairs sat waiting near the fireplace that formed the wall that separated the family room from the entrance hall and the remainder of the house.
The room was comfortable and very cozy with its warm, family-oriented tenderness evident in every nook and cranny. In the corner near the fireplace a large entertainment center held a television, DVD player, and all the other electronic toys that make the average American family happy. Michael studied the beautiful artwork decorating the walls and noticed how meticulous everything was placed and taken care of. One painting grabbed for Michael's attention first. It was a family portrait. Selena was younger in it, roughly around 17 or so. She stood beside a tall cheeky smiling man. His eyes were playful, yet the expanse of his gaze was also protective, evidence by the way he held onto a woman who was obviously Selena's mother. In the mother's arms sat a little girl wearing an apricot colored dress and hair ribbons. In front of Selena knelt a seven or eight year old girl with two ponytails pulled back behind her ears. The other paintings in the room were of seashores, mountains, and prairie lands. Some of them conveyed a happy carefree expression, most however expressed a quiet sadness.
Coming down the stairs, Selena halted to observe her guest as he studied her family's portrait. She inquired, "Do you like what you see?"
Michael turned to see that his host had pulled her hair into a ponytail. She had changed into pair of stiff khaki-green army-inspired fatigue pants. The drawstring waistline tied and sat sexily over her hips. She covered a cap-sleeved v-necked, gray t-shirt with a warm, long-sleeved, gray & black flannel shirt, which was left unbuttoned and open as a sort of jacket. The sleeves rolled up to her elbows. The smeared cosmetics had been washed away from her face and she looked more comfortable with her appearance. She stood warily at the entrance of the room, her green eyes questioning and searching Michael carefully. She was obviously protecting her home, trying to decide if she had done the right thing by inviting a perfect stranger inside. Michael smiled, "Beautiful." Selena blushed a bit at Michael's compliment – not intended for the painting. He sensed he might be trying to hard to flirt and retreated back to safety, "The paintings are beautiful. Are you the artist?"
Selena approached Michael. She faced the painting, indicating with her hands, "My uncle painted the one of my family. My sister is responsible for the rest. My uncle let her play with his brushes one day and she hasn't put them down since."
Michael complimented, "She is very good. When was the portrait painted?"
"Ummm... about six years ago... just before my parent's accident." Selena quickly changed the subject, "Why don't you let me dry your clothes while we have coffee."
"But I don't have anything to change into," Michael protested.
"Well, you will catch a terrible cold if you stay in them, Mr. Knight," she scolded in a motherly tone of voice, "Here." She tossed a set of dark blue men's sweats at him and half ordered, "So if you have no more excuses or objections, please follow me." Turning back towards the stairs, Selena led Michael to a door beyond the staircase. She turned on the light, revealing a bathroom behind the door. She informed, "You can change in here. Will you need anything else?"
Michael joked, "Are you always this motherly with perfect strangers?"
Selena laughed, "No, Mr. Knight, just ones who rescue me in the rain."
"Michael" he corrected. When she looked back in confusion, he explained, "You keep saying 'Mr. Knight'. It would please me to hear 'Michael'."
Blushing "Umm…Michael," she stammered, "coffee will be ready soon by the bar when you're ready." Then she closed the door and headed for the kitchen.
A few minutes later, Michael sat down next to the bar, a towel he'd found hanging in the bathroom around his neck. The sweatshirt he'd been provided with was a little large in the shoulders, however, the sweatpants fit comfortably well. He watched Selena working in the kitchen, then turned to study the painting for a moment. Observing Selena again, he inquired, "There are two girls in the portrait?"
"Jasmine is kneeling in front of me…she's the artist of the family. The baby in my mother's arms is my youngest sister Tina."
Michael hesitantly inquired, "I hope you don't mind me asking, but when did your parents pass away?"
Breathing away the longing sadness that usually tried to invade her heart when talking or thinking about her parents, Selena replied, "I was eighteen. It was just after that painting was finished, about six or so years."
"How old were your sisters?"
"Jasmine is fifteen and Tina is ten so that would have made them nine and four respectively." Selena felt comforted and drawn to Michael's inquiry about her family. She sensed he was asking out of curiosity and genuine interest in getting to know her. Something about that helped her to continue, "You know, the social worker tried to split us up and make me sell this house. They said I was too young to raise two children by myself."
Michael concluded, "But you had your own ideas."
Smiling she offered, "What do you take in your coffee?"
Michael answered and continued, "I will bet you took charge the moment the trouble began."
Selena sat down next to Michael with their coffee cups and after placing one in front of him, she affirmed, "You bet. Argued that their reasons for splitting us up weren't good enough. I was working and going to college. Tina could be sent to a day-care center until she started school the next fall. Our financial needs were taken care of by the insurance, which paid off the house; our trust funds; there was enough left from investments and other assets to last for a long time to come. My Aunt Marie finally came to our aid and talked the agency into giving us a six month trial. The rest as they say is history." Selena's thoughts wandered darkly and then as if talking to herself she added anxiously, "You know, I would do just about anything to protect them."
Michael wondered, "Where are they now?"
"I sent them to my Aunt's place for the weekend. My friend wanted to be alone with me and as usual I trusted he would not do anything to ruin it." She stared at Michael for a moment and then smiled, "Then again, I'm beginning to feel very glad that he did." She noticed his clothes piled up on the floor. Gathering them together, she informed, "I'll be right back. I'm gonna go take care of these."
She disappeared into the room just off the kitchen. Michael sipped at the hot coffee until she returned. Selena switched on a lamp by the couch and inquired, "Can we change the subject? I really would rather talk about your car. It is so fascinating, I don't know where to begin asking the questions I have."
"Don't flatter KITT too much, he already has an inflated opinion of himself." Michael's eyes brightened as he talked on and on about KITT and their adventures. He was encouraged by Selena's attentiveness to his stories. She easily laughed at his or "KITT's" jokes. Together they built a roaring fire, continuing their conversation and sharing a light snack and more coffee. The only pause of the night came when Michael's clothes were dry and he went to change into them. Upon his return, he finished telling the story he had just started before the interruption. As he spoke he found himself becoming very attracted to this lady he rescued from the rain. He was caught up inside her dark green eyes that glittered with gold specks and danced by the fire's light just for him when she laughed. Twice he wanted to kiss her and he sensed she felt the same. She had turned away from him both times, redirecting his attentions back to their conversation.
Selena studied Michael's every movement, trying to figure out who this person was and why she had found it so easy to confide in him things about her family that even Patrick had never known. Then again, she thought, Patrick never bothered to inquire about her past. He only cared that she was his father's secretary during the day, his loving and submissive girlfriend at night, and his toy for his silly "games". Shaking away those depressing thoughts, she turned her attention back to Michael. She thought about what might have happened if they had met under different circumstances. She pushed those fantasies away and reminded herself that she wasn't supposed to get involved with him like that or else. The crackling of the logs in the fireplace brought her out of her thoughts causing her to feel embarrassed that she had not been listening to her guest. She turned toward the fire hoping that he had not noticed her inattention. She smiled self-consciously. Awkward by the feelings coming to surface inside her, She smiled at the thought that Patrick would not be pleased with her. She laughed softly to herself; then heard Michael's voice asking her what was funny. His hand closed around hers and she gazed into his trusting eyes and lied, "Nothing, I..."
Michael would not let her turn away from him a third time. He leaned forward and tasted the coffee still on her lips, barely touching them with his own. He felt her lightly, hesitantly respond and was encouraged to go further, enjoying the mix of chocolate and mints coming from her breath mingling with his own. The press of his lips intensified as he explored the contours of her mouth as it melded into his. He found the hesitant way she responded intoxicating. Her eyes had half-closed, the corners revealing her attraction and pleasure. He stroked her chin, her cheek, finally taking a gentle, guiding hold of the crook of her neck just under ear and hairline. His thumb caressing, stroking along her cheekbone, his finger tips getting tangled in her strands of hair caught up in the ponytail and sending delicious, massaging tingles into Selena's neck. Her hands remained clasped tightly in her lap, as if she were afraid of what might happen if she let them reach out to him to touch him.
KITT interrupted their quiet evening, "Michael, Devon is calling. He said it was important."
"O K, KITT, be right out." Upon noticing the questions in Selena's eyes, Michael displayed his comlink. There was a slight irritation at being interrupted in his voice as he explained, "This lets me stay in contact with KITT at all times."
Selena laughed, "Tell me something. Are there any other little things that KITT does that I should know about?"
Michael joked mysteriously, "MuHAHAHA... just wait and see, my dear, wait and see. I am sorry I have to go, Selena, but Devon..."
Selena nodded, "I understand but," the pair stood up to walk to the door, "does this Devon ever give you time off for good behavior?"
Michael teased, "You mean like rescuing a drenched woman from the rain?" Selena laughed and Michael continued, "Once in awhile, but lately little emergencies keep popping up to prevent me from taking a long vacation."
Standing at her front door Selena offered, "Thank you for helping me. It was good fortune that I bumped into you this afternoon."
Michael replied, "Hey, I got to have a wonderful slice of cheese cake and coffee with a pretty girl. They were all delicious."
Selena laughed, "Good, now we are even."
"Not yet," Michael began, "what are you doing for lunch tomorrow?"
"Coming home for a tuna fish sandwich. We only have half a days for the rest of the week because of the holiday. Are you suggesting something better?" She smiled as she leaned against the front door.
Pretending to think it over, Michael grinned, "Yeah I am. Where can I pick you up?"
Quickly Selena returned to the kitchen, jotted down her office's address, and then returned to give the slip of paper to Michael, "I can leave at noon. I work for a company called Judson International. It is on the fourth floor, suite 410."
Michael read the card as she gave the directions and then he commented thoughtfully, "I know this company from somewhere?" He opened the door and observed, "The rain has stopped."
Selena breathed in, "Ooh, I love it when it rains, makes everything smell so clean and fresh," she giggled, "well, fresh as far as Los Angeles' fresh is anyway." With their good-byes over, she waved to Michael one last time before disappearing behind the double black doors.
Inside Selena reluctantly picked up the phone. The line picked up and she informed, "Well, you got your wish. Step two has been completed. I hope what you did to me was worth it." She hung up before he could ask for details and silently flipped off the lights before going to bed.