Commitment

by elfin

Quiet against the background of howling wind and beating rain, Devon stepped into the dry warmth of Kitt's garage and closed the door behind him.

"Bonnie?"

She turned, finger to her lips. "Ssh."

He dropped his voice to a whisper. "How are they?"

"Michael refused to leave Kitt, so…." He followed her gaze and smiled fondly at what he saw. The battered sofa had been pulled up from the rest area and Michael was asleep on it, lying on his side, one blanket rolled up under his head as a pillow, another covering him, tucked in by Bonnie no doubt.

Kitt's was parked close by, scanner dark, prow touching the edge of the sofa at a slight angle. Michael's left arm was stretched out over the black body, bent at the elbow, fingers spread on one closed headlight.

It was a stark contrast to the scene that had met them earlier in the day in the previously peaceful little Nevada town of Commitment. They'd been unable to get too close in the sedan; a five-deep crowd had formed around the barely restrained chaos blocking the road, so he and Bonnie had been forced to get out of the car and to investigate on foot.

Over the shoulders and between the heads of the men and women who'd congregated, they caught sight of a man in a brown leather jacket standing against Kitt's driver's side door. He had one hand on the back of the neck of a young girl whose head he was holding through the car's open window, throat pressed against the sill.

Michael was a foot or so behind him, saying something they couldn't quite hear, the other man's head turned to him, an argument ensuing. They didn't even realise he had a gun until the shot rang out. Next to Devon, Bonnie screamed, and he belatedly realised that neither Michael, nor the poor girl being held hostage had been fired at. But Kitt. A direct, point-blank-range shot into the dash.

Michael's cry rang out over the collective yell of the crowd.

Devon felt an ice-cold chill wiped out almost immediately by the flush of adrenaline as he watched, helpless, while Michael struck out, cracking the gunman's head against Kitt's roof, surprising and unbalancing him enough to allow the girl to break free. Michael won the thankfully short fight, dropping their attacker to the ground, getting hold of the gun.

Devon and Bonnie pushed their way through the crowd, and at the moment that they made it to the front, Michael aimed the gun directly into the now frightened man's face, shouting, screaming; he was going to kill him, revenge for his partner's life, and his voice broke on Kitt's name, anger for now in place of grief.

Reaching out instinctively, Devon had denial on his lips when he thought he heard Bonnie actually trying to reassure him. He turned to her, stared at her; "what?!"

"Kitt's fine!"

Trying to get that through to Michael though… he was still yelling at the man on the ground, one heavy foot in the middle of the man's chest, choking off the pleas for his life as Michael tightened his finger on the trigger.

Something stopped him; stopped him from murdering the man he'd believed had just murdered his partner. And for a moment Devon hadn't a clue what it was. Then he saw it - Michael's glance at the Comlink on his wrist - and taking a few steps forward he heard the incessant beeping, heard Michael's broken voice say, "Kitt?"

"I'm here, Michael. He didn't hurt me."

"How…?"

And then Bonnie was there, crouching down at Michael's side, not touching him but telling him, "His CPU isn't located behind the voice panel, and it's protected by the same MBS coating as the car… there's some damage but it's to the the engine, not to Kitt. I promise you, Michael, he's fine."

Everything seemed to freeze. Michael, shaking hard, his attention caught between Bonnie and the Comlink, glancing over his shoulder at his partner. "Kitt?"

"Michael," the voice came from the Comlink. "It's me. Please… I know that man deserves everything coming to him but don't kill him. Please don't kill him. I'm fine, Michael, I promise you."

"Kitt… he shot you."

"My dashboard, Michael, not me. I'm safe, I'm fine."

"I don't…. Kitt…?"

"The last thing you said to me, Michael, as we entered this terrible place, was 'isn't about time Devon gave us some time off?' and I reminded you that he'd given us some time off, and you'd spent it helping a young woman with large breasts who turned out to be a serial car thief who'd only been interested in me."

Devon watched Michael lower the gun, wrap his right hand over the Comlink on his left wrist, and finally raise his foot from the attacker's chest. He took control then, lifting the gun from Michael's loose grip before leaving him in Bonnie's care, smoothing everything over with the town's chief of police, ensuring the gunman was arrested and charged. Bonnie arranged for Kitt to be taken back to the Foundation - only thirty miles from Commitment - and when the low-loader arrived, Michael went with them, refusing to leave him, despite Kitt's continuing reassurance that he was perfectly all right.

Michael muttered something in his sleep, moved his fingertips over Kitt's closed headlight, and settled again quickly.

Devon watched with growing concern. "What happened today, Bonnie?"

She shrugged, shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe he does need a break." But he wasn't convinced. It was something more, something deeper. Something that would explain the sight in front of him, Michael with Kitt, a sight that was as touching as it was making him uneasy. "He had a shock. We have no idea what happened before that girl's life was threatened, before Kitt was shot." Michael hadn't told them, hadn't said very much to anyone, just stayed close to Kitt. "But we could take a wild guess. Something persuaded Kitt to lower his window. If Michael was forced to choose between that girl and his partner…. I don't know, Devon, how far can anyone be pushed before they break?"

It was a question he didn't have an answer to. How much had they asked of Michael over the years? He'd never really considered the idea that he would crack one day, break down and kill someone.

"It's just one possibility," Bonnie broke his train of thought. "He might have just had one too many pot-shots taken at them. He did think that man had hurt - killed - Kitt. How was he supposed to react?" Again, Devon had no answer. "Let them rest. If Michael won't talk to us, maybe Kitt will, now that he can."

With a soul-deep sigh, he nodded and allowed Bonnie to lead him out of the garage, dimming the lights on the way, closing and locking the door behind them, leaving the partners alone to come to terms with whatever they needed to.