Author's Note: The sequel to Knight Life, which I had actually written a while ago. So, as a general statement to give you a heads up, you should read the original story first so you have a better idea at my plot. I've had the idea of a few things that could/do happen to Kitt since I finished the original story and had a review from a few people that suggested that Kitt should be experiencing more hardships as he adjusts to the human body. So thank you to those that said that, because this was the result. Please note, that during this fic you'll see spots that are italicized. This represents the flashbacks I'm putting in. Also, please note that I am not a doctor, nor do I have a clue what I'm doing ;) You'll see what I mean later…but let's just pretend, okay? hehe

As usual, none of the characters, with the exception of Rachael, Nadine and perhaps a few others, do not belong to me…I wouldn't be writing little fanfics if they did—I'd be in Hawaii right now lying in the sun enjoying a nice long vacation.

Now, I enjoy decent criticisms, but I will not accept any reviews telling me that this story is crap, that it would never happen, and so-forth. If that's your opinion, kindly keep it to yourself—this is, remember, a "fanfic" which allows me to do what I want. Also, I'm sure there are errors, but the reason famous authors have editors is because not even they could catch every little thing they missed while rereading their work. Enough said. ;) Enjoy.

Knight Life II:

Out of the Past

Part I

Dancing wasn't what he considered a wonderful Friday night out—at least not now. Years ago when he had no concept of how to dance, seeing that he owned four wheels instead of two feet, dancing seemed to be the romantic way of a date and a elegant way to have a good time. How wrong he could have been.

"Kitt, I had a great time," she told him.

Kitt nodded, his gaze still focused on the road ahead of the car as he drove. The rain was coming down so hard now that he could barely see the yellow line down the center of the road. He wished that the car he drove could drive itself, but alas it couldn't. Not that is car, that is. A simple SUV made by GMC. Not having a particular Trans Am was bad enough, but driving a house on wheels made Kitt Knight anxious to get home.

"My God, they never said that it'd be this heavy of a storm," Rachael Bloomdom replied as she looked out the passenger window.

"Pilot Drive," Kitt said out loud as he read the street sign. Around the corner and two houses down, they were finally back to Rachael's house. Kitt put the vehicle in park and turned his head to look at his girlfriend. "Well, you're home," he said with a smile.

"Come inside," she said as she unbuckled the seatbelt. "Take a break before going back home."

Kitt nodded and turned the car off, unbuckled, and followed her to the front door where she quickly opened it and they hurried inside. He took his shoes off so he wouldn't get the carpet wet and neatly lay his jacket on the doorknob of the closet.

"Want anything?" Rachael asked as she put her purse and keys on the side table next to the door, then making her way into the kitchen.

"Double whatever you're having," Kitt said as he moved in casually with his hands in his pockets. He watched her pull out two mugs from the cabinet above the counter and put the kettle on the stove to heat water.

"What?" She asked as she noticed him staring.

"Oh, nothing," he said with a smirk as he went back towards the living room and sat himself down on the couch. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, suddenly feeling like it was summer and not late November.

A few minutes later he was joined by Rachael as she carried in two steaming cups of tea. "Alright, half a teaspoon of sugar," she said as she put his mug down on the coaster in front of him on the coffee table. "And light and sweet for me. Do you want silence or a movie?"

Kitt looked out of the window to the side of the room and saw that it was still pouring out and by the looks of the dogwood tree in the front yard it was starting to get very windy. The feeling of his best friend's SUV swaying in the wind wasn't exactly a thrill ride for him. "A movie sounds good."

Rachael nodded as she sorted through the stack of DVD's in the rack next to the television set. "What are you in the mood for?"

"What?" Kitt asked when she asked him.

"Action? Adventure? Romance?" She smirked.

Kitt laughed lightly to himself. "Whatever you want; I chose last time."

Rachael nodded in agreement and put the disk into the player. Before she joined him on the couch she turned off the lights and glanced at the clock. "You're not in a hurry to go home, are you? It's already ten thirty."

"Doesn't matter to me," he replied as he put his arm around her shoulders when she plopped down on the couch next to him. Immediately she cuddled up with her head on his shoulder and her arm around him. Many a night they spent like this, happily seated on the couch watching a movie or just sitting and talking to each other. Kitt didn't mind either way.

In fact, he was happy to have Rachael to do this with. A little over a year ago Kitt had heard the news that his work partner and best friend, Michael Knight, was leaving the Foundation for Law and Government, the very operation that brought Kitt himself to life. Without Michael and without the work they did, Kitt would've been useless.

The movie that played before them was one of Rachael's favorites—Gone with the Wind. Kitt had seen it at least twice before; it was usually the backup movie if they couldn't decide what else to put on. Before the opening credits finished rolling, Kitt found his mind wondering.

He idly wondered what his life would be if he had never been taken out of the Knight Industries Two Thousand. The first ten years of his life, the only years he had known, had been spent under the dashboard of the most expensive and unbelievable car in the world. The Knight Two Thousand had been more than a flashy Pontiac Trans Am—it had been who Kitt was, back when his name was just an abbreviation for the car's name. He was the computer of the car, the voice, the mind and the controller if his driver was not present.

Michael Knight had been the only man who had been Kitt's driver. Together they fought against criminals who operated above the law. Until, that is, Michael had been injured and finally decided that he needed to retire from the job of crime fighting. Kitt had been devastated with this news. Michael had taught him everything he knew about life, beyond his programming, of course. Bonnie Barstow, KITT's original programmer, had said once that Michael had given KITT his humanity.

So with Michael Knight gone from F.L.A.G. KITT had nothing left to do. The foundation's cases lessoned and the most he could have done was be a chauffer for the top executives.

Then the miracle of modern medicine and science had been able to join forces to give KITT a body of his own; that is a body that he could reside in and live the life of the being he had always protected. After finding a donor, a man of near thirty who had been in a coma for a few years after an automobile accident, the transfer had been made and Kitt Knight had been born.

Meeting Rachael so soon after his surgical recovery was surprising, but not unwelcome. Kitt loved her more than he even knew how to express. Slowly he learned things, but the more he learned about human life, the more he understood that Michael was right when he once said that Kitt had it made when he was a car.

Sometimes he could close his eyes and imagine himself as the car he had been born into. For him, driving 250mphs down the road had been nothing, jumping over cars and fences was a thrill, and plowing through walls two feet thick was barely living life on the edge. In a way he missed the days he and Michael spent driving across the country, playing word games or discussing random subjects, yet he wouldn't trade this life in for anything. There had been a few obstacles since he had become human, resulting in him being kidnapped and shot, but it was over now and he was content holding someone he cared deeply for.

The road was dry now. There were three other people in the car with him—he was driving. Everyone was talking and having a good time; only one of his passengers was drunk. He wasn't speeding, but taking his time as everyone talked about their night out.

He could see headlights coming towards him. He didn't think anything of it. He was on his side of the road—there was nothing to worry about.

The other car was coming up fast. It wasn't a car; it was a big pickup truck. His friend was in the passenger seat—he saw this too. He could see something was coming towards them at a high speed.

His friend told him to pull over; but he didn't have a chance. He told his friends that the other car wasn't slowing down. He pressed down his car's horn on the steering wheel—BAM!

Kitt jumped awake and looked around. Rachael's head popped up and she stared at him with concern. "Kitt? What's wrong?"

Kitt realized that he was still in her living room. The movie was still playing, and the rain was still coming down outside. His face was covered in sweat and he felt like he had just finished running ten miles.

"Kitt?"

Kitt took a deep breath and stood up shaking his head slowly. "I'm okay."

There were a few moments of silence and suddenly Kitt felt a hand wrap around his forearm. "It was more than a nightmare, wasn't it?"

Kitt's blue eyes shifted to meet her green ones. "What makes you think that?"

"This is the second time I've heard you yell out the same words in your sleep."

Kitt was surprised to hear this. "What did I say?"

"Something about he's not slowing down and then holy shit."

Holy shit were two words Kitt would never use, and he could see it in her eyes that she knew that as well. He let out a sigh and turned his head slightly away from her, hoping she'd drop the subject.

"Something's bothering you, isn't it?" She pressed. "Kitt, you can tell me. You know you can."

Kitt nodded. "I'm not sure exactly what it is," he started, "but the only thing I can think of is…flashbacks of some sort.

"Flashbacks? Of what? Something that happened to you and Michael?"

"No," he responded. "What happened to Scott Bordeaux."

"You mean the guy whose body you took over?" Kitt nodded. Rachael's mouth couldn't seem to close. She pulled away from him and sat on the couch, looking at the floor in disbelief. "Kitt this can be serious. They said—"

"They never said that I might not see his memories; not completely, that is."

Rachael looked up at him with the most concerned eyes that he's ever seen on any human before in his life. "Kitt, promise me you'll find out what's wrong. I don't like this one bit. I mean, something might happen to the part that's truly you in there."

Kitt looked at her, astounded that she'd put her words to him like that. He could feel his heart pound at how she made it sound like he was something trapped inside another object.

But Rachael getting up and putting her arms around him made him temporarily forget that. "Kitt, I just want to make sure you're okay. Okay?"

"Of course," Kitt replied.

Rachael turned off the television, and picked up the mugs of tea that neither of them had touched. "It's not letting up is it?" She asked when she saw him going over to the window.

"Not at all," Kitt said with a mild sigh. "I didn't think it could rain this hard for so long."

"You should just stay the night instead of going back now," she said. "I don't mind."

Kitt thought about it for a while, but finally decided that he'd be more comfortable staying rather than gripping the steering wheel and having that chance of crashing Michael's car. He knew Michael and he were like brothers, but even brothers would have a hard time forgiving when there was a car involved.

"You're probably right," he said as he went over to a rocking chair that sported an afghan.

Rachael had already gone into the kitchen to put the mugs into the sink and then headed down the hall to her bedroom before taking a notice that Kitt was already making himself at home on her couch for the night. Just as he was about to settle down and toss the afghan over his legs, she returned wearing a rather short nightgown. "Don't tell me you'd rather spend the night with the couch instead of me."

"I'm not sure I understand," Kitt replied, having a hard time keeping his focus on her face.

Rachael laughed. "I do have a double bed, Mr. Knight, if you're uncomfortable." And with that, she retreated down the hall without another word.

Kitt looked around the living room, and then down the hall to where there was still a light on in Rachael's room. He had never spent the night in the same room with someone. When he was the car he'd spend his nights by himself outside whether it'd be in a garage or a parking lot. Michael never seemed to have a problem sharing a room with a young lady, so perhaps it shouldn't bother him either.

Finally Kitt made his way down the hall to find Rachael curled up on one side of the bed, leaving him enough space; the light was still on, as if she expected him to come down. Turning it off, he pulled off his shirt, leaving him in his t-shirt and pants, and crawled up next to her. She immediately turned over and put her arm around him, a small smile on her face.

óóó

Kitt had woken up after dreaming of a mass of young people wearing caps and gowns with a very large building sporting a clock tower behind them. The only other thing he remembered after opening his eyes was a small stage where there were several people seated and one by one came up to a podium to speak.

Rachael was still sleeping when he sat up at the edge of the bed to think about what he had 'dreamed' of. He knew it was yet another memory of Scott's. It was much too clear to not have been.

Kitt ran his hands through his dark brown hair as he stood up. He hadn't noticed that Rachael too had awakened and was sitting up in bed, watching him move about the room while he thought to himself.

"You had another vision," she said softly.

Kitt turned around quickly to see the same concerned look on her face. "I'd hardly call it a vision, Rachael."

"Well, whatever you want to call it then," she responded. "I hope you're planning on calling someone about it today."

Kitt was a little annoyed with the tone of her voice. She almost sounded the way Bonnie spoke to Michael if they returned from a mission with something on KITT out of place or in need of maintenance. "I hadn't planned on it, no."

"Kitt!" Rachael said sharply as she stood up, now looking angry. "Obviously there's something wrong!"

"If there was something wrong I'd know about it," he said. "It's most likely not unnatural—my memory chips are implanted into the part of the brain that stores memory."

"But look at how you've been reacting to it whenever it triggers," Rachael argued.

"It doesn't always happen like that," he said. "Last night was just a rarity."

"You mean this isn't a recent development?"

Kitt pulled the shirt over his head. "Well, no, of course not. I've had them since the beginning of being like this."

"Kitt, either you call someone or I will."

"I don't need for you to hover over me. I can take care of myself," he told her calmly.

"No, Kitt, I think you forget that you're not a car anymore and you need to take care of yourself now," Rachael lectured. "You might be intelligent, you might have been through a lot, but you still need to grow up."

"I don't think we need to be having this conversation, Rachael," Kitt told her, now more annoyed than he could ever remember being.

"No Kitt, we do. With your computer mind you keep thinking you know all and that life is just something that will fix itself. But now you're a computer in a human body; when will this sink into your little microchips?"

Kitt stared at her, his stomach caught in his throat. "My computer mind…and little microchips?"

"Yes Kitt, you're computer mind," Rachael repeated. "Whether you want to believe it or not, you're still a computer. And you always will be."

Kitt could feel his hand tremble at his side. No one had ever spoken to him like that. Michael had lectured him a few times in the past, but this was the first time someone made him feel like he was the size of grain of salt. The only thing he could think of doing was leaving her room and going down the hall for his coat and shoes. It wasn't that he didn't want to face her, but for the first time in his life he didn't know what to say or how to even say it.

"Are you just gonna walk out and ignore me?" Rachael said, following him to the living room.

"Does it even matter? I'm a computer with little microchips."

"Kitt, nothing penetrates, does it!"

"I don't need to hear this from you. If you don't have enough respect for me to let me be, then maybe we just don't belong together!"

Rachael's serious expression turned to one of hurt and betrayal. Even Kitt was surprised that he had raised his voice to her. He could tell that he had deeply hurt her. Tears started to flood her eyes.

"Rachael, I—"

"Please leave, Kitt," Rachael said cutting him off cold as she turned her back to him.

"Rachael—"

"I asked you to leave."

Kitt didn't say another word as he stuffed his feet into his shoes, grabbed his jacket and was out the door before he could give himself a chance to look back. He didn't pause until he was in the driver's seat of Michael's car and found that his hand was having a hard time finding the ignition.

He hoped that when he looked up to the window of the house he'd see her staring out looking at him, hoping that he'd run back to her. But the curtains hung untouched. The door was still closed, and the porch was empty.

Kitt turned the V8 engine on, slowly backed the vehicle out of the driveway and headed back to the Knight Mansion where he knew he'd call her and try to apologize for his actions. He knew he had been very harsh and had no right to tell her that they didn't belong together. He, of all people, thought they did. She had been there with him through the entire ordeal with Andy Jacobs plot to have him destroy his files from F.L.A.G.'s systems. She had stayed by his side when he was recovering from his gunshot wound; they had been together for the past four months since then, not one argument touching any conversation they engaged in.

And just like that, it seemed to be over.