Author's note: Sorry about the confusion last chapter. Kitt and Michael were arguing about a coffee pot type set-up being installed in Kitt. About the only thing he doesn't have Michael might want. Kitt would never go for it, too demeaning.

*7:48 am, Meeting with Sheriff L. Langley. Personal note: Send thank you to paint design team for choosing black as my body color.*

Kitt waited in the side lot of the courthouse, determined to keep a low profile. 'Michael could have FLAG request the records but no, we have to appear in person. First time he crosses the line I get impounded. Turbo boost to shoot me over a full semi truck, speed to outrun a jet, and I am held by quarter inch chain and a metal padlock on a police lot. Its demeaning to be treated the same as a car! I can only act if I perceive my driver is in imminent danger. How about imminent stupidity? Absurd situation if you ask me.' His systems linked into the police station frequency and single camera. 'Here we go.'

Michael strode into the station lobby, his boots clicking on the tile floor. 'Get the reports,' he thought. 'Let the sheriff know I'm on his side and not get arrested when our paths cross later. Maybe even put in a good word with Devon on how we helped once the case is solved.'

The on-duty officer looked up as the door chimed, then relaxing. "Be right there." He continued to overhear the one way conversation coming from the side office. Blonde, tall, and thin he looked almost too young to be in his uniform. Not one crease showed in the material and every strap and buckle was shined and fitted perfectly. Then the stranger cleared his throat, clearly wanting something. 'Oh bother. I'm going to miss overhearing the best part.' The officer turned smartly on his heel, holding a steaming cup of coffee in his hand and faced Michael. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Sheriff Langley. He around?"

"Not exactly. Sheriff comes and goes as needed." The office smiled, clearly amused. "Anything I can help you with?"

"Got any more coffee?"

"Fresh out." He shrugged, keeping a professional distance. "Do you want to leave a message?"

"No, I need to talk to him in person. Any idea when he will be here?"

"Very soon, I'd guess." The officer replied, trying not to smirk. 'This is going to be fun to watch,' he thought. 'Man here has no idea what he is getting into without an appointment. And today especially. '

The sound of a phone being slammed down reverberated from the half open door. "Do you believe this? Does he have nothing better to do than call here?!" a female voice shouted. "Of all the incompetent, rude, chauvinistic, name calling-" the voice got louder and louder as she approached the open door and stomped out into the main room. Kitt recognized her instantly. The petite brunette from the diner the night before. The one not Michael's type.

"Farmer Nelson?" he asked her, indicating the person to whom she had been talking. The blonde cop laughed, turning to gesture at Michael standing patiently by the counter. "He's here to see the sheriff."

"Man is a nut case." She ignored them both, throwing pink message slips into the trash can. "Nelson is raving about aliens, crop circles and strange lights. The Sheriff's job is to keep citizens safe, not listen to crazies hours on end. And his ideas! Plants cactus in a cornfield!" She dropped her voice to sound rough and accented. "'Cacti are the next milk. Ya see. Healthy, fresh and thorns keep critters away.' Now he's seeing aliens."

"Is the sheriff going to be here soon?" Michael asked, "I have important business to discuss with him."

"I'm the sheriff." She said, turning back around. The phone rang; she glanced down at the caller id, picked it up then hung it up without saying a word. "Officer Jones, if Nelson calls again, hang up like a faulty disconnect. " She ordered.

"You're the sheriff?" He echoed, obviously not winning any points with her.

"Surprise!" She smiled up at him, batting her eyes. "My predecessor was a man who liked to chase women a little too young, before him was a gambler that lost this station in a poker deal at Vegas and the one before that had a drinking problem. When he wasn't drunk, we had a problem." The other officer picked up a file and disappeared into the side office, then leaned against the door, wanting to hear every word. "Town got fed up with them and elected me last year. An honest, upright citizen and head of the school PTA. Now what can I do for you, Mr. Knight?" She challenged.

"How did you know my name?"He asked, trying to regain his composure. All his preplanned speeches about mutual cooperation and getting a drink at the local bar later went to pieces.

"I have my sources, like your license plate. I also know you are an ex-cop, brag a lot and your hands tell me you're a brawler. Those marks aren't from pushing papers." She used the same tone she had used on her four sons when they were caught misbehaving.

"I don't want trouble. I'm from the Foundation for Law and Government. I was sent here to get copies of the damage reports." Michael rushed out, feeling on the spot. Outside, Kitt practically shook his entire chassis in amusement watching the video feed relay. Then an incoming signal code triggered his instant and full attention. His call to FLAG repair was being answered.

Inside the station the discussion continued. "Messenger boy huh? No can do." She raised a hand to forestall an objection. "They were sent to the county seat last week. We have more important stuff to handle. This town has unhappy farmers, torn up crops, missing fertilizer shipments, a city budget so tight we run short on bullets, and the last thing I need is more help." She sat on the edge of the desk. "Find Frank Hammer, always wears a black knit cap, has a scar down his chin from a water skiing accident as a teen. He's the town record keeper. "

Michael started, recognizing the description immediately. "Any idea where he is now? I think he might be involved with what's going on around here."

"Him? Yah right. Besides, what do I look like? The information desk? Jones, where's my coffee?"

"Blue cup right behind you ma'am. Right where you left it earlier."The officer stepped out, pointing to it then disappeared back into the office.

"So, Mr. Long," she paused to take a sip of her coffee as Michael froze. "Tale teller, as the Indians would say. What stories are you going to spin my way? Perhaps the mayor or the Judge?" The main door slammed open, as an older man, dressed in blue coveralls and faded boots hustled in the door.

"Sheriff, sheriff! Ain't ya got my messages?" He pushed past Michael to stand nose to nose with Sheriff Langley. "It's those aliens! They dun destroyed the city waters supply with one them laser beams."

"Fred, we have been through this." She rubbed her forehead, and then pursed her lips in exasperation. "Aliens attack cities or the military. Not our small town and your farm!"

"I'm telling you it ain't on other way." He gestured erratically, causing her to duck under his arm and off the desk.

"How about something hitting it?" She countered, stepping out of the way. Michael started edging for the door, not saying a word.

"Nope. I saw them white beams, then a big red beam that went left to right slicing it- then crash! Pieces everywhere! I got pipe out in my truck, you see! No char marks, no paint smears or cut marks on it. Nothing on this earth touched it, I swear! It was black and nothing but that red light. And what about those crop circles huh?"

"Officer Jones can assist you in filing the report. I need to deal with Mr. Knight here." She looked over at the empty counter and grinned. "Never mind, dealt with. I'll go look at the damage in person."

Outside, Kitt cut the camera link before anyone detected it. Michael practically ran towards him, as the driver side door opened. A single spark and the engine turbines roared to life. "Destination?"

"Anywhere but here buddy. "

Kitt obediently pulled out into traffic, guidance systems heading them back towards the hotel. 'Can't he be more specific than anywhere? I do all the calculations, correlate all the data, and what does he do? Get shot.' Kitt's thoughts tweaked for a nano second, remembering how many times Michael had been injured and he had sat in hospital parking lots. The incident at the dam when communications were lost and the metal blocked his scan attempts. Not knowing whether the gunshots he heard but could not see had killed Michael. The attack at the data center, watching the man shoot Michael repeatedly before driving between them to shield.

"Michael, may I ask something?"

"Depends on the question." He countered, making no move to take over driving.

"Why do you keep risking yourself unnecessarily? You are safe inside my interior. At least you could wear body armor?"

"Cases aren't solved sitting down. And you are my body armor. Let's focus on the case shall we? " He reached down to the center console, keying in the manual control override code.

Kitt released the steering and acceleration, recognizing Michael was uncomfortable with the discussion and the emotions involved. 'I will bring this up again. Humans avoid and forget. I do not. And Bonnie is coming with Devon. They will know what to do.' Belatedly, he realized Michael was talking.

"Earth to Kitt? The original call to Flag was anonymous right?" Michael continued without waiting for an answer. "Claiming to be an informant that's stolen a microchip with data on this operation, warns us to look for a man six foot nine inches. There are four known suspect vehicles, one of which is now in a cornfield, a town record keeper with a scar-"

"And black cap," Kitt said, bring up the face recognition scan from the night before onto the monitor.

"Disruption of farms, missing delivery supplies, unspecified contraband, and a woman sheriff." Michael finished.

"What does her gender have to do with her qualifications for the position?" Kitt asked.

"Uhm, nothing I suppose. Anything I missed?"

"No water?" Kitt teased, computing the probability of how quickly Michael would get them arrested.