Title: Holding Hands

Author: knightshade

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I'm not Glen A. Larson or a representative of Universal, so I don't own them.

Author's Notes: These are a series of 100 word shorts (except for the last which is 200 words) based around the idea of holding hands. They were written for Tomy's Holding Hands Challenge. She was also kind enough to look them over for me.

Bonnie and Kitt
(set during Junkyard Dog)

There were times when Bonnie really wished she could give Kitt a hug or hold his hand.

She watched him line up on the test track that he had run a thousand times before. Only this time was different. This time everything depended on him being able to complete it successfully, and he was so nervous. She had wished him good luck and given his dash a pat, but it just wasn't the same.

She wished there were some physical gesture she could give him that could say, "I have faith in you," as intrinsically as squeezing someone's hand did.

Michael and Devon

Michael hated corporate feel-good seminars. He'd rather be shot at or drive through a minefield than listen to some neo-hippie talk about the power of teamwork.

"I want you all to get in a circle," their facilitator said. "Hold hands with the person next to you."

Michael took Devon's hand and gave him a look that clearly said, 'This is ridiculous.'

"Now think positive thoughts," the neo-hippie said.

Michael could only think one thing. He knew it was going to get him in trouble, but he couldn't help it. "Kum-ba-ya," he sang.

Devon's hand immediately tightened into a painful vise.

Michael and Kitt
(set during Sky Knight)

They sat at the top of the rise, overlooking the compound. Kitt was trying to find some weakness, some way in. Then Devon called to tell them that Bonnie was going to be the first person executed.

"Hang in there, Bonnie," Michael said under his breath.

Kitt wished he had some way of reassuring his partner -- of giving him strength.

Michael clenched his teeth and gripped down on Kitt's steering yoke, his nails leaving little half-moon crescents in its surface. In a way, Kitt was giving Michael something to hold onto.

In a way, he was holding Michael's hand.

Bonnie and Devon

"Bonnie, would you mind taking another look at this speech?" Devon asked nervously.

She'd already read it four times.

And he never ceased to amaze her. Devon gave speeches all the time. He handed out awards like candy. But when he was accepting an award, the man became a basket case. Normally, it was endearing, and she wouldn't mind holding his hand through the process, but she was really busy today.

Bonnie leaned over his desk. "Trust me, Devon, it's a good speech. You'll be fine," she said firmly. Then she smiled, patted his arm, and quickly left his office.

Michael and Bonnie

Bonnie had been working on Kitt all night and needed a break, so Michael suggested a little stargazing. They walked part of the way down the semi's ramp together before he hopped over the side. He offered his hand to help her and was stunned when she didn't let go after jumping down herself.

Hand in hand, they walked away from the truck and into the desert night.

Bonnie tilted her head back and the starlight wove delicate, shimmering patterns in her hair. "It's such a beautiful night," she whispered.

Michael glanced down at their entwined hands.

It certainly was.

Michael and RC

"Game point, my man," RC said, dribbling the basketball and grinning.

"Just take your shot," Michael groused.

In a flash RC charged. Michael tried to defend the hoop, but as he went up to block the shot, RC barreled into him shoulder first. Michael fell into the bushes behind the hoop as the ball swooshed through the net.

"Sorry man. I get a little competitive," RC said, offering Michael his hand. "No hard feelings?"

They clasped forearms and RC helped pull him up.

"No hard feelings. But next time I'll wipe the floor with you!"

"Bring it on," RC laughed.

More Michael and Bonnie
(set in a story idea that will probably never get written)

Bonnie was sitting on the hospital gurney staring down at the floor.

"Hi, sweetheart," Michael said, but he didn't get much of a response. He wanted to give her a hug, but with her injuries, he didn't think he could do it without hurting her.

Michael sat next to her on the bed, careful not to crowd her or move the rolling table where she was resting her hand against an icepack. She slowly lifted her arm, probably to let her hand warm a bit.

Michael very carefully took her wrist and rolled it over, resting her palm on his. She winced, but only slightly. Her knuckles were a line of angry purple hillocks. It sickened him to know that each of her fingers had been systematically pulled from their sockets -- one of her many injuries that reminded him of his own brushes with torture.

He slowly lowered both of their hands to the table, hers on top. Then he positioned the icepack, holding up most of its weight so that it just grazed her knuckles. "Let me know when it gets too cold again."

Bonnie finally looked up, her eyes clouded with emotion. "Thank you," she said softly.

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-knightshade
June 6, 2005