a/n this absolutely did not go where i expected it to, but i'm okay with the direction it decided we should go

Michael and Bonnie exchanged bemused, albeit slightly concerned, glances, as KITT went off on all the stunts he and Michael could perform at Slammin' Sammy's Super Stunt Show Spectacular. "Maybe that bomb did more damage than we thought," Bonnie said, stifling her laughter. Michael, on the other hand, outright guffawed at Devon's dumbstruck expression.

"You can reprogram him once Sammy's drivin' again," Michael said. "I'll see you two at our next performance." With that, he reversed down the ramp and spun KITT around to head south, back toward the stadium. Even though the bomb hadn't done the damage it was supposed to, there were still a lot of repairs to be made. Every section of bleachers was old and weather-beaten, and some were roped off because they were so unsafe. Now, though, Sammy and his kids had more than enough money for the repairs. And with the reignited interest in Sammy's show, they had people volunteering to help out.

Michael had to admit he hadn't expected the community outreach, but it did his heart good to see it as he paused in his own work to wipe his brow on the rag he pulled from his back pocket. More than just outreach, it looked like the Phillips family was making friends here. He smiled, shoved the rag back in his pocket, and took up his hammer once more. Tearing down the old bleachers was the fun part, Michael happily admitted to himself. A little constructive destruction never hurt anyone.

And besides, construction would be left in the capable hands of a company who specialized in stadium seating like that. A bunch of Samaritans with hammers, nails, and screw guns could take anything apart and make repairs with the best of them, but Michael didn't trust them to build anything up to OSHA standards. Already the little first-aid tent had seen its fair share of minor injuries. So far, nothing more serious than a broken thumb from a poorly aimed hammer.

Laughter and good-natured conversations rang out over the sounds of destruction, repairs, and music. They worked well into the summer night, stopping only when there wasn't enough light to work by. While food, water, soda, tea, and lemonade had been available throughout the day, the feasting began at sundown. Tired and sweaty as everyone was, no one went home until after 10PM. Those who hadn't been involved in the construction brought entrees and side dishes to what turned out to be an absolutely massive potluck.

Devon and Bonnie rolled up shortly after 8:45, having been tied up with bureaucratic bullshit and paperwork. "You missed all the fun!" Michael called in greeting as they joined him, their own plates piled with food.

"I think I would have preferred the back-breaking manual labor to that bureaucratic nightmare," Devon said, a tad bitterly. Michael chuckled. "Although that might have left you in charge of the paperwork, and I shudder to think of the damage you might have done." There was no arguing there. Getting Michael to file his case-end reports on time was hard enough. You'd think given his time in the army and on the force, he'd be better about it, but it took endless nagging from KITT and Devon. No, Michael didn't have the patience for sitting around and doing paperwork.

"Looks like you guys made good progress," Bonnie said, running her eyes over the half-shadowed grandstands.

"You bet your ass we did!" Michael said. "Half the town showed up to help, and I think Sammy and his kids made some new friends out there." Speaking of making new friends, Michael mused as he watched Devon strike up a conversation with Sammy.

"How's KITT holding up?" Bonnie asked, keeping her voice low. To the people here, KITT wasn't anything more than a remarkably sturdy stunt car.

"He's impatient," Michael said with a mischievous grin. "Even though he keeps telling me that impatience requires an emotional response. He keeps talking about all the stunts we could perform."

"Well, you know how much he likes showing off," Bonnie said, voice warm with maternal pride. "Especially for you."

"I don't need him to show off for me! I know what he can do."

"Still," Bonnie said meaningfully.

"I know, I know. And don't worry; I'm not gonna let him do anything too risky. He might come out of everything he can think of alright, but I'm not that indestructible."

. . .

Those three weeks flew by faster than Michael had ever thought they could, but they'd been a blessed thrill. Hell, Mark even had his own announced segment now! And a genuine relationship with his father, something that had been bitterly missing when Michael first rolled up. Two days ago, Sammy's doctors had given him permission to ditch the walking boot, and today they'd cleared him to drive. And only drive. No stunts yet – at his age, they weren't taking any risks that might keep the break from healing fully.

The stands were absolutely packed to capacity; standing room only. People gathered around the perimeter fences, stood on chairs and boxes and did everything they could to make sure they had the clearest view possible. Devon and Bonnie sat next to the announcer; the highest possible honor Sammy could offer them. This night meant everything to Sammy and his kids, Michael, and KITT: it was Michael and KITT's last performance and Sammy's return to driving.

"Well, folks, it's a night of mixed feelings," the announcer said, voice echoing across the grounds. Those who couldn't get close enough to see in person watched on TVs brought in and set up around the grounds.

A quiet murmur began in the stands near the stuntmen's entrance to the stadium, then spread quickly. Sammy's familiar car, a much-missed sight those past few weeks, paraded past the audience. The murmur grew to a roar as more people caught on to what was happening. Feet pounding on the newly-refurbished bleachers in time to chants of Sammy's name as he made a circuit of the stadium, waving out the window. "As you can see, Sammy's back!" The announcer had to shout to make himself heard over the uproar. Michael's heart swelled with pride and a familiar sort of affection at the sight. They'd all worked so hard just for this moment, and it. was. beautiful.

It took nearly ten minutes after Sammy left the stadium for the crowd to quiet down. "It's not all good news tonight, though, my friends," the announcer continued once he could make himself heard without shouting. "Tonight, we say goodbye to Michael and KITT. I don't know about the rest of you, but I know I'm gonna miss them!"

Now, Michael and KITT made their preliminary circuit of the course. They'd retracted the passenger side sun-roof, and Michael knelt on the passenger seat as Sammy drove. Neither Michael nor KITT liked letting other people drive the car, but they'd both agreed Sammy had earned that honor. Michael waved and blew kisses to the crowd, basking in the adoration and cheers. If he sat down and was really honest with himself, he was going to miss this. The crowds, the adrenaline, the joy. Working for the Foundation didn't afford such unadulterated joy very often, but that was neither here nor there.

Now, it was just Michael and KITT. Focus, focus. Even with a supercomputer to fall back on, Michael still counted carefully, making sure each little stunt fell right in time. Up on the left wheels for three counts, level for three, up on the right wheels for three. Level again: one, two, three – a small jump over a car parked perpendicular to the ramp. four, five, six, seven, eight; deep breath and square up with the ramp for the ring of fire. Nine, ten, eleven –

liftoff

airborne

back on the ground

feel the impact through KITT's suspension, feel it in his own bones. again

left wheels for three counts, level for three, right for three. watch as the truck with the ramp and the car begin their circuit

again

one, two, three, four – line up with the truck's ramp – five, six, seven – gun it

flight

and down again, harder this time. impact resonating through suspension and bone, man and machine

"Beautifully done, KITT!" Michael exulted, flush with adrenaline, grinning like a madman and shaking with the thrill of it all. "Bee-aye-you-toilfully done!" He stressed the first three syllables of the word as his heart raced and blood roared in his ears, muffling the triumphant ruckus from the crowd.

"Well done, yourself, Michael!" KITT crowed, just as proud as Michael. Michael, who waved rambunctiously to the crowd out the window. Who would deny to himself and God that tears of pride, joy, exuberance, and yes, sorrow, joined the sweat stinging his cheeks.

They made their celebratory final circuit as the announcer bid his public farewell to the pair and the crowd howled their appreciation.

. . .

Michael pulled KITT into the privacy of the semi and slumped back in the seat, letting his head thump against the head rest as he sighed, finally letting go of the fight-or-flight tension of the show. He pulled off the gloves and helmet and ran his fingers through his hair, over his face. Adrenaline still tingled in his extremities; it'd be a while before it faded and his hands were entirely steady, but that was okay. He was okay feeling like this around KITT.

They sat in contented silence. Michael didn't know for how long. He could ask KITT of course. KITT would always know how long. "That was one helluva show, huh, pal?" Michael asked, running a hand along the dash.

"It certainly was, Michael," KITT agreed. In the darkness of the semi, Michael watched the slow swish of KITT's scanner – a lazy cat basking in the sun, purring to himself.

"What do you say we get those stars off?" Michael asked with a crooked grin. KITT hated those stars as much as he loved showing off and always made a fuss when Michael had to reapply them. Though at this point, the fuss had become part of their ritual, just as important as Michael's counting. Then, they'd join Sammy, Mark, and Lisa for lunch and chat with adoring fans. Once the last spectator left, they'd return to the semi. Michael would remove the decals and Bonnie would check KITT over for any damage to his circuitry.

This night, though, they'd sought refuge in the semi immediately after, Michael too emotional to deal with the crowds. Even Devon and Bonnie's familiar presences were too much at the moment.

Moving for the first time since parking in the semi, Michael grimaced at the stiffness that had settled over him. He'd been more keyed up than he realized. Nothing a hot shower and a good night's sleep shouldn't fix. Nothing he hadn't dealt with before.

He started with the stars on KITT's left front fender as usual. Sometimes they talked; tonight was one of the nights they shared in silence, the only sounds being the gentle crinkle of the decals as they came away from KITT's shell and KITT's own gentle humming. A sound Michael found surprisingly endearing. Again, the image of that black cat in a sun puddle came to mind, and Michael smiled at it.

"What's so amusing?" KITT asked.

"Can't help thinkin' of you as a cat sometimes," Michael said as he moved from fender to door panel and rear quarter panel.

"Please explain."

"Growing up, there was this black cat me and my mom would sometimes feed when he came by. We called him Cat. You remind me of him sometimes. When he was real happy, he'd stretch out on his side in the sun and just purr. I don't think I've ever seen anyone more content than that cat when the sun started setting in the summer." Michael smiled fondly at the memory. He never did find out why the cat stopped coming by; he'd just figured someone ran Cat over, to be honest, although he liked to think some kind soul had adopted Cat and given him the love he deserved.

"Very clever name," KITT teased gently.

"Says you," Michael teased back. He moved around the rear of the car, onto the decals on KITT's spoiler and rear bumper. Earlier in their partnership, Michael had felt weird working behind KITT like that. It felt like coming up on a horse from behind – something done at your own risk because it just might get you kicked. But like so many other things, even that became normal.

As Michael removed the last of the starts from KITT's bumper, KITT asked, "Michael, what happened to Cat?"

Michael stopped and propped an elbow on KITT's spoiler, pursing his lips thoughtfully. "I don't know. I like to think some good Samaritan picked him up and he lived happily ever after. Even though he was probably run over and killed. I'd rather think he died fat and happy."

"I'd rather think Cat died fat and happy, too," KITT agreed.

Memories hung heavy and unspoken as Michael returned to the task at hand. It was something he could have easily had done in under 15 minutes, but he felt like taking his time. This was the last time they'd be doing this, after all. No need to rush. All that waited for them outside this quiet momentary haven was the usual chaos, noise, and violence of their assignments. Moments like this were so rare, and Michael cherished them deeply.

Finally, Michael peeled the last of the decals from KITT's hood. Even in the dim lights, he could see the voids in the dust and dirt left by the stars, the fingerprints and smudges he'd left while removing the decals. Tomorrow, he'd wash KITT. Tomorrow, when he could easily see any grime left on KITT. That shell would sparkle like new when he was done with it. Tonight, though, both of them would have to be content with their respective layers of dust.

"I can't believe I'm saying this," KITT said as Michael gathered up the tattered decals and tossed them in the small trash can by Bonnie's computer, "but I'm going to miss those stars."

"Me too, buddy. Me too." Michael sighed as he returned to the driver seat and closed the door. He moved the seat back as far as it would go so he could stretch his legs out and reclined the seat.

"Gnight, KITT."

"Sleep well, Michael."