Disclaimer: I far as I can tell Glen Larson owns everything Knight Rider. I don't. But I do own Jessica. Just so you know.
Michael had barely reached the person on the rock before they held out several sheets of paper and said,
"Sign the one at the start."
He took the papers and glanced over it and asked,
"What's this for and where do you want it signed?"
The person looked up from their laptop and glared at Michael,
"These are insurance forms, OK?" said the person, who Michael had now identified as a woman,
"They're to prove that if you die or get seriously injured while being in my presence that you were near me through your own free will. If you don't trust me you can read the entire contract which is at least a hundred pages long and needs to be signed three times on every page, or you can take my word for it and sign somewhere on that page. It doesn't matter where, it's just one signature that I need."
"OK..." muttered Michael and hesitantly signed it and handed it back.
"Ta" the girl said and stood up, holding out her hand, "I'm Jessica Dalzell, I know Devon and then he knows me and believe you me, we're going to need each other's help. Sorry if this is a touch rushed but I'm currently extremely worried and really need to get into a sheltered area, preferably my own home, and check that no one's trying to kill me."
Michael nodded and shook hands with her. He could now see Jessica was bordering thirty but probably still in her mid-twenties. She was wearing a three quarter length leather coat, black jeans, black trainers and a black t-shirt. There was no doubt about the fact she was pretty, long chocolate brown hair that turned ginger and occasionally blonde as the light hit it and chocolate brown eyes that had a worried but confident feel about them, as if she was troubled about something but had a good idea how to deal with it.
In other words, pretty didn't do justice. The word would be stunning.
"Come on," she said stowing her laptop under the seat of her super bike and brought out a helmet – black, of course – and gestured at the road.
Michael nodded again. It seemed the best way to talk to this girl was not to talk at all but just to nod and agree. Disagreeing probably wasn't the best idea since Michael had caught a glimpse of a hefty revolver underneath her leather coat as she had swept by. Now she was sitting on the bike, engine rumbling, waiting for Michael to get a move on.
Obviously Kitt detected her impatience because he started the engine and rolled forward to Michael and slid the door open. Jessica raised an eyebrow behind her helmet visor; this was going to be interesting.
As soon as Michael shut the door, she sped off, doing a wheelie to keep her speed down enough so he could catch up. And sure enough Kitt and Michael darted off too, flying down the roads after the bike as though someone were chasing them.
They didn't know there was.
Michael had barely reached the person on the rock before they held out several sheets of paper and said,
"Sign the one at the start."
He took the papers and glanced over it and asked,
"What's this for and where do you want it signed?"
The person looked up from their laptop and glared at Michael,
"These are insurance forms, OK?" said the person, who Michael had now identified as a woman,
"They're to prove that if you die or get seriously injured while being in my presence that you were near me through your own free will. If you don't trust me you can read the entire contract which is at least a hundred pages long and needs to be signed three times on every page, or you can take my word for it and sign somewhere on that page. It doesn't matter where, it's just one signature that I need."
"OK..." muttered Michael and hesitantly signed it and handed it back.
"Ta" the girl said and stood up, holding out her hand, "I'm Jessica Dalzell, I know Devon and then he knows me and believe you me, we're going to need each other's help. Sorry if this is a touch rushed but I'm currently extremely worried and really need to get into a sheltered area, preferably my own home, and check that no one's trying to kill me."
Michael nodded and shook hands with her. He could now see Jessica was bordering thirty but probably still in her mid-twenties. She was wearing a three quarter length leather coat, black jeans, black trainers and a black t-shirt. There was no doubt about the fact she was pretty, long chocolate brown hair that turned ginger and occasionally blonde as the light hit it and chocolate brown eyes that had a worried but confident feel about them, as if she was troubled about something but had a good idea how to deal with it.
In other words, pretty didn't do justice. The word would be stunning.
"Come on," she said stowing her laptop under the seat of her super bike and brought out a helmet – black, of course – and gestured at the road.
Michael nodded again. It seemed the best way to talk to this girl was not to talk at all but just to nod and agree. Disagreeing probably wasn't the best idea since Michael had caught a glimpse of a hefty revolver underneath her leather coat as she had swept by. Now she was sitting on the bike, engine rumbling, waiting for Michael to get a move on.
Obviously Kitt detected her impatience because he started the engine and rolled forward to Michael and slid the door open. Jessica raised an eyebrow behind her helmet visor; this was going to be interesting.
As soon as Michael shut the door, she sped off, doing a wheelie to keep her speed down enough so he could catch up. And sure enough Kitt and Michael darted off too, flying down the roads after the bike as though someone were chasing them.
They didn't know there was.