chapter three
"What does Kitt stand for?"
"It doesn't stand for anything. It's his name."
"What kind of music do you like?"
"Rock."
"What about movies?"
It had been like that for the past three hours. Lauren had decided to play twenty questions with the partners, mostly focusing on Michael. The occasional question about Kitt was thrown in, and every time his name was mentioned he could feel his partner's anger spike. Michael was irritated enough with the constant line of questions. Lauren wasn't being subtle in her interest, and Kitt knew all too well where this was going. She might as well ask him to bed, but it seemed like she was trying to build up some sort of relationship. The shyness that was present with Devon and Bonnie was completely gone now, and she was like a child in a candy store. Michael's grip was tight enough around the wheel to turn his knuckles white.
"Why do you want to know?" he demanded.
Lauren shrank back as if Michael had hit her. Her eyes were wide as she spoke, stuttering a little. "I – I'm sorry, I-I guess I was just c-curious."
Kitt wasn't sure which was aggravating his partner more – the constant stream of questions or Lauren's mood swings. He reached out to Michael, trying to calm him, and found a barrier.
They learned how to block each other pretty early on. The first time it happened Michael had lost his balance and fell down the stairs, aggravating his surgical wounds. He had been trying to spare Kitt the pain. The barrier hadn't lasted long. The sudden absence of each other's presence had scared them worse than Michael's pain. They had promised never to do it again. Michael wasn't deliberately trying to keep him out – if he was, the barrier would be much thicker. As it was, Kitt simply hovered just inside Michael's mind, his presence known but not overpowering.
Michael sighed and reached out to him. /I'm all right, Kitt./
/I know./ Kitt reached out and touched him, sending silent reassurances through the link. Michael was all right. But that didn't mean he couldn't use a dose of warm fuzzies. Slowly, he felt Michael's grip on the steering wheel relax.
Now, if he could just convince Lauren to shut up, everything would be fine.
Something flickered through the link from Michael just before his foot pressed down on the accelerator. Kitt was picking up speed now, moving past the reasonably safe sixty they had been doing and moving more around one-twenty. It took Lauren a minute to realize what was happening, but only a minute. "Holy crap! Is it really necessary to go this fast?"
Kitt chuckled. "Oh, he goes faster than this all the time." he assured the woman, and only Michael could have caught the slight mocking tone in his partner's voice. With a warning to Michael, Kitt took control of the car and took off like a rocket. Lauren screamed in terror and covered her eyes while Michael whooped in glee like a little child on a rollercoaster. Kitt kept going as fast as he dared and only started to slow down when traffic got a bit heavy. He was expecting Michael's disappointment, which came readily enough. What he wasn't expecting was Lauren's reaction.
"You know, once you get over the initial shock, that's kinda fun." she said, her eyes still wide. "How did you do that?"
"I didn't." Michael chuckled. "That was all Kitt. But don't say too much about it – you'll give him a fat head."
"Who was it who told me that it's not bragging if you can do it?" Kitt shot back. Michael laughed and lightly smacked the steering wheel. "You know you can't win that one." It was amazing how much smugness could be packed into one simple sentence.
"It's not fair to start using my own insults against me." Michael pointed out.
Kitt didn't hesitate. "No, but I'm not above a little plagiarism."
"Somehow, I think I just missed an inside joke." Lauren said uncertainly.
Michael grinned, but there was no humor in his voice when he spoke. "Heaven help you if you ever get close enough to learn our jokes."
/----/
Lauren Phillips watched as Michael negotiated with the local cops. They still wanted a slice of the action, or so they said. What Lauren gathered was that the locals wanted the credit, but no part in the actual work. She shook her head. It was cops like that that gave the rest a bad name. Her own unit had not been so lazy.
Her own unit . . . just the thought made her insides clench. She only hoped she could survive long enough to get back to her own unit. That had been the deal – go in, get information, and she would be set for life. Enough money that she could take care of her little brother's medical bills, that she wouldn't have to worry about if her paycheck was going to cover his meds and her food bill. It was a good offer and she had done what any good cop would never have done.
She took the job without getting all the information.
A sigh escaped her and she glanced from Michael to the Trans-Am. Kitt, which didn't stand for anything. At first she hadn't believed the rumors. She had thought that Kitt was a human partner, which would have made more sense. Honestly, what was Wilton Knight thinking when he created something like that? Her lip curled in distaste.
She had thought to move in and make Michael accept her, but that was going to be harder than she thought. She didn't know how to act around him, what he wanted in a woman, and now she was beginning to suspect the truth.
Michael didn't want a woman. If anything – and this was truly ridiculous – he valued his partnership with Kitt more than any other relationship.
Lauren had her work cut out for her. This was not going to be easy.
Michael walked up to her, running his hand through his hair. He was handsome in a way that made it hard to breathe. "So what do the locals want?" she asked.
The FLAG driver shook his head. "Ah, the usual crap. All credit, no work, yadda yadda yadda. Sometimes I wish I didn't have to deal with them. No offense." It was an afterthought, but it warmed her heart.
"None taken." she said with a smile.
For a moment, his eyes blanked as if he was thinking about something else. Then he nodded. "Come on. I know where we can start looking."