AN: Hey everyone; sorry for the delay in getting this up for you. It's been one thing after another around here and I just haven't touched this story for a few weeks now. Anyway, I had reread this chapter for errors, but for some reason my screen went on the fritz and I had to reboot. So hopefully I caught any of the mistakes I had fixed, but if you see something wrong, I do apologize for it. I don't feel like rereading it for a third time XD Please review when you get a chance! It makes me happy! Hehe.

Chapter 5: The Work Begins

Michael had arrived bright and early at the garage to make sure K.I.T.T. was alright. He had faith in Burt, but during the night there was a horrible feeling rushing through his brain that one of the mechanics had overheard anything being said—especially by K.I.T.T. himself—and tried to steal him. He breathed a sigh of relief when he tossed up the bay door and saw the Trans Am staring back at him with what looked like a bleak smile across the bumper.

For the first hour he was there, Michael had started looking through the remains of the engine. He found the basic components to make it run were there, but the extras that had been installed for K.I.T.T.'s unique capabilities had been long removed and cobwebs had covered the empty spaces. He frowned as he noticed a spider creeping its way along a spark plug and then disappearing moments later.

"I know its bad," K.I.T.T. said solemnly, "but just how bad is it? I don't believe my diagnostic equipment is hooked up anymore."

"It's probably not there anymore," Michael said wiping his brow with the back of his hand. "They pulled you apart like a Christmas gift."

Devon arrived soon after Michael had pulled up a chair and waited for the mechanics to start their day, which wasn't for another half an hour. He was kind enough to bring pastries and coffee and they camped out in front of K.I.T.T.'s nose eating quietly.

Not long after the garage started to start its day, a white cab pulled up into the small parking lot and two people emerged from the back seat. One was a tall, slim fellow with thin glasses and a long nose. He wore slacks and a button-down yellow shirt, creating a nice image to a good-looking man. The second person was who Michael had been waiting to see, though it was sooner than he expected. Bonnie had arrived, surprisingly, though, with her husband.

Michael and Devon left K.I.T.T. for a moment to go out and greet her. The moment she saw them she broke into a jog and jumped into Michael's arms. He gave her a large hug and looked her over with a big smile on his face.

"You haven't changed one bit," he said.

"Well, I'd say the same for you, but I think I see a little gray mixing into your hair," she said with a wink. She proceeded to give Devon a hug and kiss on the cheek, but quickly moved away to present her companion.

"Devon, Michael, this is Kurt," she introduced. Kurt immediately smiled and shook both of their hands. "So—where is he?" Bonnie asked clapping her hands together.

"Hiding from the public," Michael said nodding towards the garage. He led the way back to where K.I.T.T. was situated, enjoying the moment immensely. He hadn't been with these people for far too long and it gave him a sense of security to know that nothing had changed even after time had passed.

"Bonnie!" K.I.T.T. said cheerfully, the scanner on the bumper jumping to life quickly. "It's so good to see you! And you look as nice as you ever did."

Bonnie laughed and blushed madly, but her eyes looked sad as she looked over the car she spent years working on. "Thank-you, K.I.T.T. I'd like you to meet someone—this is my husband Kurt Smith."

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance," K.I.T.T. said. "I'm K.I.T.T., short for the Knight Industries Two Thousand. I do beg your pardon for my appearance, however. I realize I have seen better days."

Kurt laughed openly and took a good look at the car before him. "You're something else, I must say, K.I.T.T. I never imagined a computer like you existed."

"Yes, a miracle indeed," K.I.T.T. replied. "However, this wonder car has been demoted into looking like it was dug up from a grave of filthy blankets that had more interest in getting eaten by moths than cover my sullied trunk."

Everyone shared in Kurt's laughter. "Well, I'd like to do what I can to help you guys out. I see now that Bonnie wasn't kidding when she said that this guy was something else—I could never have even dreamed of artificial intelligence this advanced."

"Yeah, he's a real wiz," Michael said with a smile. "Try living with him for eight years."

"What sort of work do you do, Kurt?" Devon inquired politely, his hands folded in front of him.

"I'm actually a bit of a scientist myself," Kurt said. "Actually, it's something along the lines of computer engineering and robotics."

"Ah, Bonnie the Second," Michael said and rested his elbow on K.I.T.T.'s roof.

"We actually met in the lab and we basically share the same complex since it's a small company," Bonnie explained.

"Really though," Kurt said, "if you'd like me to, I'll be more than happy to get K.I.T.T. completely functional—maybe more so than before."

There was a bit of silence that followed and everyone looked at the car sitting helplessly on the concrete floor. They all knew what had to be done, but they'd have to fully commit to the time that would be involved.

"The problem is," Devon started, breaking the silence, "Nicole Westfield is waiting for my reply. If Natalie is in the trouble her mother makes out, she may not have that much time to spare."

"Nicole Westfield?" Bonnie asked, trying to remember.

"Harold T. Turner's ex-wife," Michael said to refresh her memory.

"Oh, yes, I remember," she said with a nod. "What's going on with her and Natalie?"

"I received a letter from Nicole several days ago saying she needed our help to get Natalie out of hot water, as she put it." Devon's expression looked a bit uneasy. "She claimed that the police won't help her and that she thinks only Michael and K.I.T.T. would be able to do something about the trouble that's brewing."

"I remember Natalie," K.I.T.T. said. "Michael, if she's in trouble we have to get started right away."

"I know, pal," Michael said. "But we've got to figure you out first. I mean, you're not exactly shaped up for any action."

"Leave that to us," Bonnie said glancing at Kurt. "You get started with Nicole and see what's up. Kurt and I will get K.I.T.T. back into business as quickly as we can. I've done it before—I can do it again."

As the day rolled on, Bonnie and Kurt got to work with looking through the interior to see what they had to work with. Kurt made a call to have some of his personal equipment from his lab shipped to them immediately. Michael, in the meantime, had talked to Burt and worked out some simple terms with the garage owner of getting K.I.T.T. completely revamped on the outside. While all of this was going on, Devon said he would contact Nicole and send her transportation to pick her up and bring her there so they could further discuss the situation with Natalie that had the mother so worried.

Before lunch, however, Bonnie and Kurt pulled Michael aside. "I think there are some things to consider," Bonnie told him. "The first thing is K.I.T.T.'s body."

"What about it?" Michael asked, glancing past her to see the car sitting on a lift.

"Well," Kurt chimed in, "I was thinking that he is a bit outdated, don't you think? I mean if you look around, the only time you see a Firebird of his year it's not in the greatest condition. They're just old."

"Yeah, but getting K.I.T.T. fixed up will make him top of the line again," Michael said, wondering if Bonnie agreed with him. He suddenly started to doubt Kurt and his focus on the matter—he hoped this guy wasn't going to use his wife's friends as a career booster.

"But look at him," Kurt continued. "Now I'm not a mechanic, by no means, but you should know that the car is falling apart around the interior. I mean the parts alone for this year and model will take days if not weeks to obtain."

"Then we do what it takes," Michael replied forcefully.

Bonnie stepped in, looking optimistic. "Michael, think about it— K.I.T.T. was the most impressive car not only because of his capabilities but also because he was a flashy sports car. Time, though, has evolved his model and I was thinking that maybe…he should be updated to something bigger and better."

Michael's eyes widened and he crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "Updated? What are you thinking…?" He asked with a bit of amusement.

"I was just talking to Burt," she said. "He thinks he can get his hands on a newer car if he did some searching. In the mean time we can get K.I.T.T.'s functions going and all set to be put into a new body."

Michael looked past her again to where K.I.T.T. sat vulnerable several feet above the ground. Would it really be K.I.T.T. if they transferred him into a new body? He had to admit that the 80's had died out quickly, but that car was who K.I.T.T. was. And would K.I.T.T. himself accept it? Would it be the same to drive a talking BMW?

"Bonnie, I don't know; I mean, that's a major step," he tried to explain. He stood quietly and thought about it over and over, but he couldn't decide. "What the heck is Burt thinking? I mean, I don't want K.I.T.T. to be downgraded into a common car."

"Well, wouldn't it be better than what is there now?" Kurt asked, but received a jab in the ribs from Bonnie's elbow.

Michael gave him harsh eyes, but said nothing. He shook his head but was drawn to the ringing of his cell phone. He excused himself and walked outside onto the cracked pavement of the garage's parking lot. "Hello?" he answered, watching what little traffic was on the road go by.

"Michael, it's Devon," the Englishman said. "I just got off the phone with Nicole—she should be arriving within the hour. I hope you don't mind, but I thought that your place was the best grounds for a meeting so Edward Stants can't poke his nose into what he didn't want to be his own business."

"Yeah that's fine," Michael said with a sigh. "I'll meet you there in a bit." When he returned to where Bonnie and her husband waited, he placed his hands on his hips and looked over to K.I.T.T. who now had several of his instrument panels lying on a nearby workbench, not to mention two of Burt's mechanics were busy taking apart the rusting undercarriage. "I guess you should do what needs to be done…but Bonnie—don't ruin him."

"Michael, show some more confidence," she said. "I love K.I.T.T. as much as you do—I wouldn't turn him into anything that he wouldn't like."

"Yeah, I know," he said and tried to smile. "I'm going to go meet Devon and Nicole. You know where to reach me?"

"Trust me, we'll be fine," she said and shooed him away.

Michael smirked and headed over to his Chevy, but once he was seated in front of the large, thin steering wheel, he couldn't help but look into the isolated bay of the garage. He was afraid of what would happen to K.I.T.T…Bonnie said years ago that he was afraid of change and he knew it to be true. A different car would be hard to get used to, but he relied on Bonnie to keep things under control.

Therefore, the ride back to his small house was spent trying to convince him that he shouldn't be concerned with anything. He promised Devon he'd do a job and he had to remain focused on that. Now, as he drove into the driveway of his beach-side property, he wondered how different Nicole was since the last time she saw him.

Devon had already arrived—Michael figured he made the phone call to him after stepping foot onto the driveway. Michael got out and tossed his thin coat over the railing of the porch as he joined Devon in sitting on the deck chairs.

"What do you think is wrong?" Michael asked.

"I don't know," Devon said. "She had said that Natalie hadn't been seen at home for nearly a two and phone calls were short and few."

"Do you think she was kidnapped?"

"Possibly," Devon said. "What puzzles me is that it sounds like her kidnappers are friends of hers. We won't know until we talk to Nicole."

They waited for near forty-five minutes for Nicole's cab to arrive. When it finally had, Michael and Devon walked out to greet her as she stepped out of the backseat. She pulled a strap to a duffle bag over her shoulder and looked around, but a small smile caught her mouth as she saw Devon and Michael walking towards her.

"Hi," Michael said with a smile and took the bag from her while Devon paid the cab driver. "Long time no see, huh?"ly had, Michael adn es for Nicole'ds of hers. e short and few. joined Devon in sitting on the deck chairs. vie "

Nicole nodded and looked up at him with big brown eyes looking over thin-rimmed glasses. "Too long, if you ask me," she said kindly. "It seems like you're doing well, though."

"Yeah, I'm not doing too bad," Michael replied as Devon joined them. "Lots of changes though—look at you; short hair and glasses now?"

Again she nodded and followed the two men up to the porch where Michael led the way into the house. "A lot has happened since we last met, Michael," she started. "And it was all going fine until about six months ago after my husband passed away."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Michael replied softly.

"Me too," Nicole second. "It wasn't a shock, I mean, but after my father went, he and Natalie were all I had."

Michael gestured for them to sit down at the kitchen table while he fixed up some fresh lemonade, offering them each a glass. Nicole sat silently for several moments listening to Devon talk briefly about FPLI and why she was brought into a private meeting in a beach house.

"I thought something was different when I had trouble finding your old firm," she commented. "When I called the information number the lady kept telling me that what I was asking for didn't exist, but this FPLI thing did. I didn't think it was true."

"Unfortunately so," Devon replied. "But Michael here has agreed jump out of retirement to help us out."

Nicole gave Michael a very sincere gaze and held back the tears forming in her eyes. "You don't know how much I appreciate this, Michael."

"It's no problem," he replied. "Now tell us about Natalie."

Nicole had no other choice than to pull a tissue from her purse and dry the corners of her eyes before speaking. She looked at her hands sitting in her lap, fiddling with the tissue. "When I wrote to Devon I hadn't heard from Natalie in a week. She just disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Michael said looking a bit surprised. "Kidnapping?"

"I have no idea," she said, tears starting to leak from her eyes. "I think she took off with those friends of hers. Michael, they're pulling Natalie into their circle and it's not good. She's not a bad kid!"

Michael leaned over and looked at her seriously. "I know. I'm going to find her and she's going to be okay. Just tell us whatever you know about what's been going on."

Nicole nodded and dabbed her eyes dry once again. "She was taking some courses at a community college a few miles from home and she met this guy there. At first I thought he was a good kid—clean cut, good manners, talkative—but after a while I could see Natalie becoming more secretive and quiet. She wouldn't talk to me unless it was common stuff like what the weather was doing." Nicole paused for a moment and looked across the room at nothing in particular. "She and her friend Melanie started hanging around his group of friends and soon they were both taking weekend trips—camping, or so they said. And then she didn't come home one Sunday."

"And that's when you wrote to Devon?" Michael asked.

"No," Nicole said. "That was a while ago. She called me late Sunday night and said they had headed down to San Diego and wouldn't be back until the end of the week. I told her to come right home that instant and she hung up on me. She came home Thursday and when I opened my mouth to lecture her she yelled at me and locked herself in her room."

"Has she had a history of such a response?" Devon asked with great concern.

"No," Nicole replied. "That's why I was starting to get nervous. I've never had a problem with her until now. I mean, she was a good student, followed the rules, never did anything to get arrested and then she meets this Paul and it's been downhill since. When I told her she had to stop seeing him, she told me I was stupid and knew nothing."

They were quiet for a moment, during which Michael sat tense in his seat trying to figure out a logical solution. He was afraid Natalie had gotten herself into a gang or something to that extent. "Nicole, there's been nothing from Natalie since she last was home?"

"Not a phone call, a letter, a postcard," she sobbed. "I don't know what to do. I reported her missing to the police, but they said they'll do their best."

"Yeah, I'm sure," Michael said with a sigh. "When was the last time you saw her?"

"Couple of week ago," was the answer. "The night before I had begged her to give those kids up and asked why she couldn't. I pointed out that Melanie wasn't calling like she used to and it's probably because she didn't like those kids either."

"And what did she say?" Michael asked.

"Nothing; she just walked away. Next thing I knew she was gone. And the only reason I knew she wasn't going to come back was because a day or so later my neighbor was outside when I was getting the mail and asked me who we knew from Arizona."

"Arizona?" Devon questioned.

Nicole nodded. "The plates on the car Natalie got into were from Arizona."

"What type of car?" Michael asked quickly.

"I don't know," Nicole said, the sobs starting to pick up again. "Michael…I want her back. I don't want to find out that she's…she's…"

"I'll find her," Michael promised. "I swear to you that I'll find her and bring her home."