"Mr. Knight?" The small AI's voice pulsed in the arid air of the car.

Michael turned briefly, taking a quick glance at the small and frail looking scanner pulsing lazily from side to side.

"What?"

"Mind telling me where we are going?" The smoothness of what sounded strongly like Kitt resonating in the cabin.

Michael shrugged. Unsure if it was worth mentioning…after all the small car was hiding secrets…Secrets Kitt had left —- for reasons Michael knew were closely justified. Kitt wouldn't lie, not on the road, not on a mission and much less on his deathbed.

Michael clenched the steering wheel, anger flushing through him while his knuckles turned white.

"Michael?"

The man instantly let go. Yelping from the sudden familiarity assaulting his mind. He swerved a little on the road but fortunately it was wide enough to allow them to go mostly unnoticed.

"Don't —!" He gulped, catching the nervous pulse of the RC car's scanner flickering in the passenger side; stricken with panic.

"It wasn't my intention Mr. Knight…" the voice trembled. "It felt natural — slipped out. Sorry." The voice of what resembled Kitt fading to silence, the scanner in front of the mini Trans-Am blanking out completely.

Michael felt his chest clench while he continued to drive. Feeling just a tickle of guilt starting to accumulate in his stomach. Sure — Kitt was gone but —

"We have one witness on our list, I plan to interrogate them." Michael slyly remarked.

"Tino Weeks? The person who pulled you out from the wreck?" The small Trans-Am inquired. "I was under the impression they hadn't seen much." The AI mused.

Michael rolled his eyes.

"Who told you that?"

"No one, I'm hooked to the Foundation's mainframe amongst other things. I read through the files a few times." The car smoothly shared.

"When?" Michael raised a brow coasting the Mercedes he'd borrowed from Devon toward a residential curbside.

"Last night," the AI sheepishly flashed its scanner. "Will admit the archived evidence doesn't capture the extent of the horrors we experienced that night." The AI's voice trailing off.

Michael clenched his jaw, sinking into the upholstery. Feeling a few degrees too hot in the driver's seat suddenly.

"You mean, Kitt and I." He interrupted under a cough.

The AI said nothing, keeping a natural expression of the scanner. Giving Michael the impression that he'd not heard what he'd said. Perhaps that was a good thing —

"This is the place." Michael gestured to a yellow home a few houses down. Trying to ignore the daze launching itself into his head. He kept his vision centered on the uneven and peppered lawns. Admiring the overgrown dandelions and corners of dead grass.

"It's a very questionable neighborhood." The Trans-Am sighed. " — Doudt Miss Weeks has any distinct insight on what happened on the night of the accident."

Michael jerked toward the AI, eyes widened in confusion.

"Tino is a girl?"

The Trans-Am cast a thoughtful whirr of its scanner.

"Naturally, yes. You've not met before?" This was news to the AI, especially when Miss Tino Weeks had been the individual who'd gotten Michael out of the almost burning Knight 2000.

"Look, literally anyone could have dragged me to safety and I wouldn't have known. I was banged up —" Michael protested. "I was also experiencing…"

" — A bit of mechanical failure yourself. I'm sorry to hear this Mr. Knight. Should I bring you up to speed on Miss Weeks' background?" The car hastily pushed on.

"Sure." The man slouched. Watching the evening rays filter through the few partially alive trees in the neighborhood and the fierce baseball match a crowd of Kids were playing by the street. The neighborhood had probably seen better days —- a little crippled figment of its hay day.

"First off, before the lone Eagle gets any ideas — Miss Weeks won't be a Miss for much longer."

Michael glared daggers instantly at the Trans-Am proudly speaking from the plush passenger seat beside him.

"Lone Eagle?" How could the copy remember such vivid things that did not belong to him? They were Kitt's memories, Kitt's thoughts…! Something raced inside Michael…something fond and fuzzy —- hope.

"Excuse the metaphor, Mr. Knight." The Trans-Am shrugged off the comment. "She's a manager at the local grocery store, and lived in this neighborhood for over a year. Is in college debt. Drives a Volvo. Her parents are —"

"Who's the guy?" Michael craned his neck toward the windshield. Squinting his eyes as the evening rays got past the shade from which they were parked under. He could see the slim silhouette dashing up a driveway and pounding on a door.

"What 'guy', Mr Knight?." The car spoke overrun with concern. Taking a quick leap onto the dash, losing traction on the leather covering and colliding with the windshield. "Ouch." The vehicle uttered before — "That 'guy', Mr. Knight is Ken Solivan, Miss Weeks' fiance."

"He —"

Michael didn't get a chance to finish his sentence. Both man and machine watched in horror as Miss Weeks threw a clay pot at the man the second the front door swung open, the woman jogging across her cracked driveway chasing the man into his car with a broken plastic mop shaft.

"Very unorthodox." The AI spoke out loud displeased, watching the man burn rubber as he fled the scene. "Whatever happened to adults solving problems in diplomatic ways?"

Michael shrugged, swinging the driver's door open.

"Let's find out, shall we? Keep your scanner peeled, pal."

The words left his mouth even before he could stop himself from slamming the door shut. He winced, catching the faintest reaction from the RC car still standing above the dash board. Unable to suppress his growing grief; he walked away from Devon's red Mercedes.

Eyeing the growing weeds and grooves along the cracked sidewalk. He pressed his hands toward the back of his pocket. Feeling the strain on his jacket as he approached the flustered woman throwing more nonsense at her now fleeing boyfriend.

He wondered if it'd hurt more…hurt at all to never hear Kitt's fond and warm voice again, then hear it when he was partially gone.

"Hey," he called out to the woman weakly. Tino turned on her heels and gave the man a perplexed look. Michael tried to set aside his wandering mind and got down to business.

"What do you want!?" She chafed catching onto his awkward inquietude.

What did he want? Was he being for real when he'd told Bonnie he'd give her the copy? Or was this little fragment starting to wiggle its way to his heart? Just like Kitt had?

"I uh," he gulped, getting his thoughts straight. "I'm Michael Knight and wanted to thank you for helping me on the highway the other night." He gave her a friendly smile hoping to break the ice.

The woman let her arms fall to her sides, giving the man an apologetic smile.

"Oh," She suppressed a cough. "I wasn't expecting anyone's visit." She awkwardly picked some scattered shards from the pots she'd thrown merciless over the street. "Uh, come in. Not sure mister but Shouldn't you call prior to visiting a so-called good Samaritan? Either way I don't think what I did is deserving of much else than a few good words; a handshake at best." She remarked a little dazed.

Michael clasped his hands together, noting the woman's tired and exhausted form. Her disheveled and knotted hair falling over her face in huge sweeps.

"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you. I think that deserves more than a hand shake. Don't you?" He pulled a few dollars from his pants pocket, handing them over to the woman busily kicking her pots over her lawn.

She smiled faintly before crumpling the money and tossing it onto the ground.

Bewildered, Michael furrowed his brows.

"Excuse me?"

"A hand shake. At best. I don't want your money." She tossed the broken mop shaft aside. The hard plastic clanking against the worn texture of the pavement as it rolled into the street gutter.

"Look," Michael put his hands up in defeat. "That's fine —- thing is. The cops said something about my accident being purposeful and I was wondering if you…"

The woman whipped around in her shoes, shaking her head furiously. Murmuring something under her breath.

"Don't talk about cops to me." She snapped distrubed, marching straight into her home.

"No wait!" Michael caught up to her, gingerly pulling on her arm. "You've got to tell me if you saw something." He begged.

The woman laughed.

"Saw something?" She closed her eyes, leaning her head back as a spurt of laughter echoed through the partially quiet yard. "What could I have possibly seen past midnight in the dark?." She spun around yanking her arm away from Michael, slamming the door behind her and nearly striking Michael's nose.

He shifted on his feet while he blankly stared at the door. He knocked, naturally this was the least he could do to convince her.

"Listen Tino. My best friend died in the accident." He gritted his teeth. Would she believe that? Would she recall the rest of the car being empty and the paramedics never bringing up another person?

A window nearby slid just a crack open as the woman slumped over the window sill.

"I saw nothing, okay?" The woman groaned. "Your car lost control, nothing suspicious about that. You probably were driving too fast and ran over a squirrel or something…"

Michael shook his head, walking off the front pathway and onto the lawn getting a better view of the woman's home through the window. It was strangely empty. Only the bare minimum of what one would expect to find in a home.

"No, Tino. Something happened that night and you know it." He gravely answered.

The woman stuck her tongue at him before breaking into a hysterical laugh making Michael take a step back and question her sanity.

"Okay," she broke into another laughing fit. "Here I'll open the door…and…ddd…" She stuttered before her eyes rolled back in her head and fell back over her living room floor. The woman folding back on her knees.

Michael naturally yanked the window screen out from its hold, tossing it elsewhere and forcefully pushed the window wide open.

"Kitt, get over here!" He instinctively yelled into his comlink while he cleared the window and took quick readings of the woman's vitals. Her eyelids shuttered while the woman mouthed inaudible words.

He caught onto his mistake a little too late and before he could figure what to say, the little whirr of a small motor whizzed by outside the yard. Followed with the elegant grace of a miniature Trans-Am clearing the open window in a heartbeat. The car landed just a few feet from where the woman laid, jerking her arms just slightly. The car spun around and came close to her face, the scanner droning loudly as he got readings over her vitals. The AI dismissed Michael's mistake entirely for the time being.

"She's alright, for now." The car spoke hurriedly attempting to soothe Michael. "It's epilepsy —- Turn her to her side Michael, it will help her breathe. I'd also suggest putting something soft under her head if possible. While she should be able to roll out of it naturally, it would be best if we took her to the hospital just in case. She did have a nasty fall."

Michael gaped down at the small Trans-Am, wondering however the little creature had gotten a hold of the message through the comlink. He got down to work and did as the car had asked. He brushed off the use of his first name however as the sound of an ambulance riddled the air. He raised a singular brow at the small car flashing its scanner back and forth in anxiety.

"I called them." He explained.

Michael nodded, standing up and opening the front door for the paramedics. They rushed in, asking all sorts of questions to Michael in a hassle as they attended to the collapsed woman awaiting for her to transition to consciousness before a suspected journey to the hospital.