AN: This story came about because someone asked (in a review of GK: Perspectives and Insights) how Kitt and Melissa get along and Aveburygirl asked (in a review of GK: A Smoothly Run Operation) for more interaction between Bonnie and Michael). The spark was ignited, and this is the result. Also, just putting out there that 73% of all statistics are made up. Which will make sense after you've read this.

Kitt had let Michael know when he and Melissa were nearly home. And now he was in the garage, waiting for them, along with Devon and Bonnie. Michael had offered to drive Melissa to the party this evening, but she assured him she had already made other arrangements. He hadn't asked what those arrangements were, and she hadn't volunteered that those arrangements were for Kitt to take her. Michael really needed to remember to ask her more questions. That girl was just a little too good at misdirection for his piece of mind. Though it did speak volumes about their relationship. He knew she would never have dared tell Garthe anything less than the whole truth.

The garage door went up, and Kitt drove in. Michael had a stern expression and crossed arms, ready to deal with his ward. Kitt parked and opened the passenger door. Melissa stepped out, eyes sparkling.

"Kitt, that was amazing. The look on his face was priceless. And then when Alan . . . I mean."

The words tumbled out of her. Michael couldn't help it. He grinned briefly at her exuberance. Fortunately, she was looking at Kitt and she didn't see. Devon and Bonnie did, though.

Devon murmured, just loud enough for Michael and Bonnie to hear, "She has you wrapped around her little finger."

"That's the pot calling the kettle black," said Bonnie just as quietly. "Both of you. All three of you," she amended, with a pointed look at Kitt.

Melissa finally turned to the three adults. "You should have seen it. It was perfect. And Kitt was, too."

While Michael agreed his partner was, well, nearly perfect, he didn't want Kitt getting a swelled hood. And there was still the matter of Melissa's unauthorized joy ride.

"I would have been there to see it, if you had let me drive you to the party when I offered. Instead of borrowing Kitt –"

"I didn't 'borrow', Kitt."

"Kidnap, then," suggested Bonnie tartly. She didn't tolerate Michael's antics with Kitt, and he was an adult.

"I asked Kitt if he would help Greg and me," Melissa emphasized the word. "And he graciously agreed."

"Melissa," said Kitt, "perhaps you should have a seat. My sensors are detecting significant inflammation in your hip. Standing is not helping, and your crutch is still in the trunk."

Michael walked over, scooped up Melissa, and deposited her on the hood. He then sat next to her, with an arm around her. She leaned against him. He didn't smell alcohol on her. Or any of the traditional cover-ups used to mask the smell of alcohol. Not that he thought Kitt would tolerate underaged drinking.

"Michael, everything went so well."

"Too bad I wasn't there."

"Well," she considered. "It probably would have played out differently if you had been there. I mean, Philip wouldn't have –"

"Philip the complete idiot? The kid who told you girls couldn't possibly understand cars?"

"That's the one. Though a few more letters and one fewer syllable. Does start with a vowel, though."

"Melissa Alexandra!"

Melissa huffed and rolled her eyes. "I didn't actually say the word, Uncle Devon."

"I should hope not." Devon sounded scandalized.

"Though Philip deserves it."

"Philip was at this party, then?" asked Michael, mostly to keep Devon from exploding over the swear word Melissa had oh-so-carefully avoided.

"Of course, he was. It was his party, after all. At a country club. Invited everyone from the graduating class. Even me."

"Even you?"

Melissa looked at Bonnie and shrugged. "Because I graduated a year early, some of the seniors don't think of me as part of their class."

"You went to see your friends?" When Melissa nodded, Michael suggested, "Why not have your own party – here – and just invite the kids you like?"

"Because the other reason I went was to get back at Philip. And this was the perfect venue."

"Okay, start from the beginning, please."

"Well, the beginning would be a week into 9th grade. Or maybe that's more of a prologue. Background?"

"That's when you decided Philip was an . . . idiot." Michael deliberately paused before the word.

"Yes, exactly."

"Because?"

"Well, um," Melissa finally faltered. "Because, well, you see . . ."

Bonnie guessed first. "Nickname?"

"Rude nickname. For Greg and me. I mean, we ignored it, of course. Didn't stop him."

"And this nickname?" Michael was curious.

"The reprobate referred to them as the gimp and her chimp," said Kitt. "He even used the phrase this evening. I heard him."

Michael figured it would take him less than five minutes to learn Philip's last name and address, to pay him a visit. Kitt would help. And from his thunderous expression, Devon wouldn't stop him, and he might even come along.

"But he won't use it again, Kitt," said Melissa with a giggle.

"Most certainly not."

"Because?"

"That's what made tonight so perfect, Michael," said Melissa with glee. "He can't use it anymore. Because no one finds it funny anymore."

Michael just looked at Melissa. She sat up, half-turned to face him, and recounted the evening. Again, the words tumbled out of her in her excitement.

"Kitt and I went and got Greg and then went to the country club where we waited. Because it was dark so no one could see us until we pulled up in front where the lights were. I was figuring we'd show up near the end but Philip gave an entrance line and we had to use it."

Michael was pretty sure Melissa hadn't taken a single breath or even a pause. He grinned to himself. He had seen this sort of thing before, when he was a police officer. Witnesses – and the occasional suspect – so desperate to tell their story they just couldn't stop themselves talking. Just like Melissa. All he had to do was sit and listen.

Kitt said, "I was monitoring the conversations. Philip was near the front door, to welcome his guests. Several others –"

"His posse."

Kitt accepted Melissa's correction. "His posse was there, too. One asked how many more guests were expected. Philips said about a dozen, including Melissa and Greg. Though that isn't how he referred to them, of course."

Melissa breathlessly took up the tale again. "And we weren't going to have a better entrance line. Picture it: they're all standing around when up pulls a black Trans-Am with darkened windows which impresses everyone because, well, how could they not be impressed?" Melissa gestured at Kitt and then continued. "They're all looking, wondering who is behind the wheel when the driver's door opens and out steps Greg, who walks around to the passenger side, helps me out of the car, and escorts me to the sidewalk. I had a cloth wrap around my hip, under my dress, and left the crutch in the trunk. So I didn't look crippled. Oh, did I mention Greg's tie was the same blue as my dress? Anyway, he gets back in the car and expertly parks it, front facing out. Well, Kitt did the parking, so of course it was done expertly. But Philip and his posse didn't know that."

Michael realized that Melissa's behavior wasn't due to alcohol. Or drugs. It was just the natural high from having everything fall into place. He hoped neither Devon nor Bonnie would say something to ruin it. Let the kid enjoy her triumph. He grinned down at her, and she grinned back before getting back to the story.

"While Greg – Kitt – was parking the Trans-Am, I was talking with Philip: greeting him, thanking him for the invitation, and saying how lucky the timing was. Because his party was in-between the surgeries on my hip. And Alan – who is Philip's best friend – asked me about the surgeries. He's pre-med, studying to become a doctor. So he asked about – and understood – the details. In fact, he was so interested he offered to show Greg and me to our table so we could continue talking. Philip had this stunned look on his face, like he didn't know how to react to his posse being nice to me."

"I wish Wilton were alive to see this."

Bonnie wasn't sure Devon realized he had spoken aloud. Looking at Michael and Melissa together, she had to agree with his statement. She hadn't known Wilton Knight as well as Devon had. But she did know him well enough to know that he would have enjoyed seeing his daughter and his protégé happily sitting together on the hood of his creation.

"When Greg got back from the parking lot, Alan showed us where we were sitting. At a table in a far corner, of course. But Nancy was there, along with some others from school that Greg and I are friends with, so it was all good and then Donna showed up. She's Alan's girlfriend, though I'm not sure they're still together. So maybe ex-girlfriend but still friends. Anyway, she's also one of those who thinks I don't belong with the rest of the seniors because I'm a year younger. But then Alan tells her about my hip and the surgeries and how I graduated a year early because of the surgeries. So now she's firmly in my camp because she's now sympathetic because of the surgeries and all And since Donna's really popular, having her on my side gets nearly everyone else there, too. Which means Philip can't use the nickname anymore!"

"And did you enjoy the party?" asked Devon in a mild tone.

"Oh, yes, very much. Dinner was quite good, as was the company. It was nice to catch up with my friends. Greg and I even danced a few times. Slow dances, of course, because of my hip. The cloth wrap helped. But since I didn't have my crutch, I had to lean on Greg a lot. Or sit. We weren't the first to leave, but we didn't stay 'till the end, either."

"I am glad you enjoyed yourself this evening. And now, my dear, it is time for bed. I'll walk you to your room. Kitt, if you would be so kind."

Kitt opened the trunk so Devon could get Melissa's crutch. He brought it around to her. Michael helped her off the hood.

"Good night, Michael."

"Night, kiddo. Sleep well." He gave her a bear hug, which she returned.

"Good night, Dr. Barstow."

"Oh, you can call me Bonnie."

Melissa smiled at Bonnie, and then turned to Kitt. "Good night, Kitt. And thanks again for all your help this evening."

"My pleasure, Melissa. And if you need additional assistance teaching that miscreant a lesson, let me know."

"I will."

As Devon and Melissa left the garage, Michael looked at Bonnie, grinning and shaking his head. "That was . . ."

"Entertaining to watch?" suggested Bonnie, unable to keep a straight face any longer.

"Melissa's behavior was atypical."

"Speaking of 'atypical', buddy. Care to tell me about your part in all of this?"

"Melissa explained the situation and asked for my assistance. I knew we were in between assignments and so I was available."

"Without telling me?"

"Or me?"

"I didn't see the need. You, Michael, often go off on your own without explanation. Even on a mission, I can rarely follow your train of thought, assuming there is one. And Bonnie, I didn't need any repairs, so there was no need to inform you, either."

"What if something had come up and I needed you?"

"Then I would have called the country club and asked them to let Melissa know I had been called away. I would also have called the Halloways and let them know Melissa and Greg would need a ride home. The country club was only a half-hour away, significant less in pursuit mode."

Bonnie observed, "You had thought of everything, hadn't you?"

"Of course, Bonnie."

"And did you enjoy your evening out?"

"Yes, Michael, I did."

"Really?" Bonnie was surprised.

"I had no reason to be there, you see."

"Not sure I follow your train of thought, pal."

"The party was a dinner dance, held at a country club."

"We've been to plenty of those, buddy."

"I agree, Michael. However, 82.7% of the time, we are working a case, and I must be vigilant in case of threats to you or others."

"And the rest?"

"The other 17.3% of the time, Bonnie, we are at a FLAG event, where I have been on display for Board members, donors, and others. This was the first time I could actually observe the behavior of the partygoers without distractions."

"Yeah, well, I doubt a bunch of teenagers makes a good benchmark for normal behavior."

"Data is data, Michael."

"And did Greg drive there and back?"

"Bonnie, Greg can only drive if there is a licensed driver in the car. And I am, unfortunately, not a licensed driver. Though I am certainly qualified to monitor his driving, more so than a Human would be. Instead, he sat in the back seat . . . with Melissa."

"Umm . . ."

"Yes, Michael?"

"Any interesting conversations to share?"

"No, Michael. Melissa and Greg were very quiet, both on the way there and the way back."

"So they –"

"Didn't do anything you haven't done."

Bonnie couldn't help laughing at Michael's obvious discomfort. "You really need to discuss the birds and the bees with your ward."

"Birds and bees?" asked Kitt.

Bonnie sang her response.

"Let me tell you 'bout the birds and the bees

And the flowers and the trees

And the moon up above

And a thing called love"

"You are referring to procreation."

"Exactly."

"I can certainly explain to Melissa how the mechanics work, if you would like, Michael."

"It's not the mechanics I'm worried about, buddy. It's the application of those mechanics."

Bonnie decided to save Michael – and Melissa – from embarrassment. "I'll talk to her, Michael."

"Thanks, Bonnie. I definitely owe you one." Michael waved at Devon, who had just returned to the garage. "I could have walked Melissa to her room."

"With you, Michael, she'd have gotten more wound up. With me, she had calmed down enough by the time we reached her room that she will actually be able to go to bed."

"She was pretty excited this evening."

"Yes," said Devon with a smile. "Yes, she was."

Kitt asked, "Devon, from your tone and facial expression, you appear to be pleased by Melissa's behavior."

"I am indeed, Kitt."

"Why?"

Devon leaned against a work bench, arms straight at his sides. "Because I haven't seen her like that in years." Before anyone could speak, he elaborated. "Melissa was a bubbly, outgoing child. Endlessly chattering about her day. Just like she was this evening."

"Until she was 10," said Michael flatly.

"Yes."

Bonnie asked, "Will you tell me what happened? I remember the security footage from Michael's confrontation with Garthe Knight after he kidnapped Melissa. Michael mentioned something about Garthe trying to kill Melissa."

"Garthe threw Melissa out of a window," said Kitt. "Which is how her hip was fractured."

"Oh, how awful for her."

Devon sighed sadly. "Wilton and I were both out of town for business. I was in Europe; Wilton was on the East Coast. We met up in New York and flew back to California together. When we got home, Elizabeth told us that Melissa had fractured her hip two weeks previously."

"Elizabeth never called Wilton?" Bonnie was aghast.

"According to her, there wasn't any point. He wouldn't have been able to do anything, and Knight Industries needed him to be at those meetings."

"What did she tell him had happened?" asked Michael.

"That Melissa had fallen from an open window. It took Wilton the better part of a month to get the truth from Melissa." Devon smiled at Kitt. "So thank you, Kitt, for helping Melissa this evening. I wholeheartedly approve of the results, even if I may not entirely condone her actions."

"Oh, I don't know," said Michael with a grin. "Doesn't every teenager borrow the family car without permission at least once?"