First, last and always

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of this show, and I make no money with this work. I do not own the lyrics to Taylor Swift's song Marjorie, which I have altered for the sake of the story, either.

(yes I know that song is not of the times the show was set in, but it speaks to the pain of loss in a way that is so beautiful. Miss Swift is amazing and I hope she won't sue me)

Warning: this is a bit Alternate Universe – based on the idea that Michael suffered a lot of trauma over his time as Michael Knight, and Bonnie and Devon didn't always seem to acknowledge that. What if Kitt was the only one to notice his human needed more than a job and a new face, and stepped up to give it to him? Also I play fast and loose with the Team Knight Rider people a bit too, but that's at the end of this thing (it's the fic that wouldn't die!)

In the beginning...

"I don't understand," Kitt confessed, and Michael glanced at the dash, "Why would you plot to kill someone to increase the value of an item you don't physically possess? Why would you sell something that the buyer can never touch, or even wholly own? For that matter, why would you buy it?"

Their current case involved someone going after stockbrokers, and the idea of splitting a company into intangible pieces and selling those pieces off was making the AI struggle. After only two months together, Michael had learned that despite coming across as an intelligent being, Kitt wasn't exactly worldly. Michael returned his attention to the road, pondering how best to answer the question. His mother had been an accountant, and so she'd been very thorough in teaching her children how to manage money and the value of saving and building resources for the future. He didn't have years to explain, though, and Kitt did better with a full explanation and not a brush off. Michael had learnt that if he wasn't thorough it resulted in a distracted partner and also sometimes a very sarcastic one.

"Doesn't money have an agreed upon value? How can the value of something increase or decrease the way you've described?" Kitt continued, frustration creeping into his tone.

"I don't fully get the whole thing myself, Kitt," Michael sighed, and gave a potted history of the concept of investment and speculation. Kitt was quiet throughout, and when Michael finished, the AI remained silent. Michael called it his 'ruminating' silence. For a person with no face, Kitt could certainly express himself non verbally when he wanted.

"How does the price get agreed upon then?" Kitt asked, and Michael confessed he didn't know.

"When my brother and I were teenagers, Mom gave us fake $500 dollars each," Michael told the AI, "It wasn't real money, but she wanted us to get the idea how the markets worked. I think my brother had been mouthing off about how it would be easy to make money on the stock market, so she gave us each an investment amount and had us trade based on the information in the newspapers."

"A theoretical training exercise," Kitt mused and Michael nodded. He repressed the usual feelings of loss that came from remembering his past life, choosing to focus on the road and his partner as a distraction.

"My brother went bust in a week, but I managed to double the investment, over the course of four months," Michael recalled, "Man, he was mad. Put him off blowing his money on the stock market though, which I think was what Mom was trying to do."

"May I try it?" Kitt asked as they pulled away from the light, and Michael grinned. Kitt always wanted to learn more, and this wouldn't hurt him. Also, he would be able to track the stock market in closer to real time.

"Sure," Michael nodded, "Stay in the domestic market, and start with a fake $1,000. Keep track of your trades, wins and losses, and I'll check in with you at the end of the week."

"Very well," Kitt replied, "We have a call coming in from that Mr Roman, Michael."

That Mr Roman, as Kitt called him, was their client, so Michael told his partner to put the call through.

0000

Kitt went bust within three days, and then started again. He lasted longer the next time, determined to get it right, but still went bust after a week and a half. They'd finished their case by that time, but Kitt hated it when he couldn't learn something quickly and well. Michael helped him research the companies he was theoretically investing in, helped develop a strategy, and also showed him the rules around trading and the laws involved. His third attempt was successful and by the time they'd made their sixth month mark in the partnership, Kitt had increased his initial investment and was certain he understood both the rules and the 'mechanics' of trading. He'd made a decent amount of fake money too.

"Bonnie doesn't understand why I'm trying this," Kitt confessed once Michael had finished congratulating him. They were parked outside a diner, and Michael had just returned after finishing his meal. They'd be driving all night again, but Kitt liked to 'chat' with Michael when the chassis was still sometimes, and Michael had accommodated that preference.

"If it's causing problems, Kitt, then stop. You've proven you know what you're doing now," Michael suggested. Kitt was used to doing what Bonnie said without question, and Michael was careful not to put the AI in a position where he'd be at odds with the woman he respected so much. By this time in their partnership, it was second nature to Michael to give the AI an out if something they were doing upset Bonnie.

"I don't want to," Kitt replied, his voice a little muted, "I've still more to learn."

Michael frowned. Bonnie had no patience with Michael and the ideas he introduced to her 'baby' AI, and he had no patience for the over the top coddling she attempted to supply Kitt. Michael did everything he could to avoid damaging his partner, though there were times when Kitt's near physical indestructibility had to be matched against the dangers they faced in order to save as many lives as possible. Michael agreed that damage to Kitt's chassis was to be avoided whenever possible. He didn't agree that Kitt should also have limited exposure to the human world which he had to negotiate. To the extent that he could, he let Kitt make his own decisions, and it seemed that Kitt wanted to keep going with his stock trading exercise.

"Tell you what," Michael decided, "Let's change the risk."

This would make Bonnie mad, but also, he hoped, prove how much he trusted her 'baby'. And it would give Kitt very tangible evidence of how much Michael trusted him as well. That was more important as far as Michael was concerned.

"I have a savings account," Michael told the AI, "It's not got a fortune in it, but I'll give you the pass codes and information. I want you to use half of it to make actual trades."

Michael gave a lot of his pay away to people who needed help. Some of the people they helped that weren't part of missions that Devon assigned needed financial as well as legal/physical help. The Foundation paid for so much of Michael's existence that he could give some of his pay to those who needed it. He also saved what he could, knowing full well that if he was ever invalided out of the field, he'd need to have the financial resources to live on.

"Michael, that's… an enormous risk," Kitt objected, "What would happen if I lost it all?"

"That is a risk," Michael conceded, "But I think that would make you more careful, not less. After all, when it was fake money, it was just your pride that was at risk. I trust you, Kitt. You learn things quickly, and I trust that whatever happens, you'll do your best."

"I am… honoured," Kitt sure sounded honoured, "Thank you Michael."

"I promise to split the profits with you," Michael grinned, and Kitt made the sound that was meant to be a scoff at him.

0000

Twelve months into their partnership, Devon insisted that Kitt and Michael attend one of the frequent Foundation fundraisers. Michael had made it clear that he didn't want to go, and also that he felt it was a waste of Kitt's time as well. Bonnie had made several snappy remarks about Michael not wanting to wear a suit (which Kitt knew was also true, Michael hated wearing suits, he said they were hard to move in) and Devon had made it clear that Michael's opinion was not wanted, nor would it be heeded.

Michael had parked Kitt on the grass near the garage and spent an hour and a half detailing the interior, removing his personal items from the trunk, and washing and drying Kitt's exterior before polishing it to a high sheen. Kitt was appreciative that his Driver spent so much time ensuring that Kitt looked his best, and parked himself on the driveway in a spot that would ensure nothing could drop on his exterior and ruin Michael's hard work.

Bonnie and Devon emerged from the mansion while Michael was still getting ready inside, and both paused to tell Kitt that he looked good. Devon asked Kitt to ensure Michael made it on time, fortunately not waiting for a response. Kitt was beginning to feel that Michael was seen as nothing more than a problem by his creator and mentor, responsible only for causing damage and expense, despite their exemplary record in the field.

Michael emerged in his rented suit in plenty of time for them to reach the venue, and got into the chassis silently. Kitt had scanned him thoroughly, and it appeared his Driver was unhappy, despite his neutral expression. Kitt was proud that he could tell. Non verbal communication was sometimes an issue for him, though he was getting better at it with strangers. With Michael it was much easier as they were so familiar with each other.

"Devon has asked that I ensure we are on time," Kitt paraphrased a little, trying for a smile. Michael often smiled when Kitt teased him.

"You mean he asked you to make sure I was on time," Michael said quietly. Kitt didn't like his tone. There was a hint of despair in it, and he only heard that from Michael when things were dire.

"Michael, if you are late, I am late," Kitt tried to lighten the tone, "Unless I left you on the side of the road to find your own way."

"Maybe it would be better if you did," Michael sighed, guiding the chassis out onto the street gently, "Get yourself some distance between us, so when they can me, they don't blame you."

"Michael, you're not going to be canned," Kitt chided. He'd learnt some slang over the last twelve months, another thing that Bonnie objected to, "Our record speaks for itself."

"Surely you've noticed how much they hate the blue collar, stupid, college drop out and … what is it she calls me, the nut behind the wheel?" Michael shook his head, "It doesn't matter how good our record is, partner. They'll never accept me. They barely tolerate me. And either one day they'll have enough of a reason to fire me, or… I just won't make it out of whatever they've sent us into."

Kitt checked his sensors, wondering why he felt so chilled at the dead tone Michael was using. His internal CPU was at optimal temperature within tolerances, so he chose to ignore it and address the terrible future that Michael had just described.

"Don't say that!" he spat, "Your death is completely unacceptable!"

Michael grimaced and ran a finger over the voice modulator, something he'd started to do in apology only recently. Kitt felt some of his chill disperse, and wondered at how something so simple as a human gesture could improve or impact his performance.

"I'm not trying to die Kitt, I promise. Just… some days it's harder to fight than others. I've lost everything. My friends, the woman I was going to marry, my family, my name, my face… I have a new name, a new identity, and the person who gave it to me died not long after… there is no one at the Foundation who has the faith in me that Wilton Knight did. All I have is you, and I'll stay with you to the bitter end partner, I swear it," Michael sighed, and Kitt registered unshed tears in his eyes. A check of the date showed that it was precisely a year ago that Michael Long had been shot in the desert. This partly explained Michael's distress, and desire not to be in company, but not all of it.

Silence stretched on as Michael navigated them through the traffic to the charity function. Kitt didn't know what to say. It was true that Michael had lost everything. It was apparent that the treatment Devon and Bonnie were giving him was undermining what little stability and sense of family he was managing to rebuild for himself with Kitt. It was also apparent that Michael was struggling to maintain a sense of who he was now, with his old life closed to him. Memory alone couldn't sustain the human, not the way Kitt could be sustained.

"I will never leave you either, Michael," Kitt said as they pulled into the drive and around the side of the building as previously directed, "I am sorry I can't do more for you."

"You do a lot, Kitt," Michael sighed, slowing the chassis even further to avoid kicking grass or gravel onto Kitt's mirror finish, "I'm sorry I worried you. It's ok, pal, I promise."

Kitt chose not to debate the obvious-to-him lie. Instead he began to make plans. If he was to keep Michael with him, it was evident that he needed to find a way to make Michael feel like he belonged. They already had a purpose, one that Michael valued highly. Kitt needed to give him a sense of permanence as well. Despite what the other humans around them said or did.

0000

The conference centre had extensive grounds, and a series of glass doors, larger than usual, that opened out onto the grounds. The doors in the middle were opened and Michael drove the chassis and Kitt slowly and carefully in between them, halting them on the carpet that had clearly been put down to protect the highly polished floor. People turned to look at them as Michael switched off the engine. Some of the looks were highly speculative, and Kitt felt an unexpected reaction. These people knew who he was. Most of the strangers he encountered were totally unaware of his existence. He had often chafed at that restriction, but now he was rethinking his attitude.

"Stay with me, please," Kitt said nervously as Michael took a deep breath, "I … what if they try to touch me?"

Kitt wasn't sure that the people staring at them so avidly would listen if he asked them not to touch. He disliked being touched by strangers, which Michael seemed to understand. He could lock the chassis down of course, but Devon seemed to think that they should interact with the guests, and locking himself down was not interacting. Michael would be blamed for Kitt's refusal to engage, and Kitt wanted to avoid that at all costs. He hadn't realised that one of the benefits of not revealing himself to outsiders when they were on a case was that he didn't have to deal with the greedy curiosity of strangers.

"Of course, partner," Michael smiled, his tone affectionate, "I won't let them paw at you."

"Thank you," Kitt allowed his relief to show as he observed Devon headed their way. Bonnie was on the other side of the room, talking to an elaborately coiffed woman, shooting little glances their way as well. Michael got out of the chassis and came to stand at the front of the hood, making sure he wasn't in the way of Kitt's scanner. It was a small consideration, one that Kitt thought Michael wasn't conscious of any more. He did so many things that made Kitt's existence easier: the early request for more consideration taken seriously every day.

"I hope you weren't planning to stay hidden in the car," Devon said instead of a more usual greeting. His tone was light, but Kitt detected a hint of command in it.

"No," Michael replied quietly, scanning the crowd in his own way, ensuring there were no obvious threats, "Good evening Devon."

"Good evening," Devon appeared surprised at the short response, and turned to look at the crowd as well. Michael stepped back a little, the back of his leg pressing protectively against Kitt's fender.

"Well, if you'll excuse me," Devon shot Michael an uncertain glance and headed back into the crowd. Michael sighed when he was gone, but before Kitt could comment a well dressed man, his suit cut to accommodate a bulky if athletic build, approached with his hand out.

"Milton Custer," he announced. Kitt looked him up in his databases while Michael shook the extended hand, introducing himself in a pleasant tone. According to Kitt's databases, Custer was a former athlete who had turned his post playing career towards producing sporting goods.

"And is this the car that everyone was talking about?" Custer turned to look Kitt over, "With the new engine technology?"

"Yes," Michael shot a fond look at the optical camera that Kitt used most often to watch him when he was outside of the chassis, "This is the Knight Industries Two Thousand, K.I.T.T. for short. He prefers to be called Kitt. Kitt, this is Milton Custer."

"Pleased to meet you," Kitt said obediently, recognising the value of the social lie, and also that Michael would be saying some variation of that introduction all evening. It was the same introduction that Kitt himself had used with his Driver, and the AI was touched that the human remembered. Custer exclaimed and Michael skilfully dealt with the usual questions that followed. Kitt wondered how many times this conversation would replay itself tonight and made a small prediction.

"I don't suppose I could see the engine?" Custer said abruptly.

"I'm afraid not," Michael murmured before Kitt could react beyond his initial and instinctive rejection of the idea. Custer frowned, anger creeping into his face but Michael leaned in as if imparting a secret, "He's bullet proof on the outside, but with the hood up… well. It's a security risk, I'm sure you can understand. If you contact Devon Miles he may be able to set something up in a more secure location. In our line of work, we can't take the risk."

"Of course," Custer nodded, glancing around as if he expected an assassin to leap out at any moment, "If you'll excuse me, I must go and speak with my friend the mayor."

"Of course, thank you for your time," Michael skilfully turned the rejection into a conspiracy and Custer bustled off, an air of satisfied importance cloaking him.

"Masterfully done," Kitt said quietly when the man was out of earshot, "And thank you."

"How many times do you think we'll have that conversation tonight?" Michael sighed, nodding in acknowledgement.

"I predict at least twenty nine in total," Kitt replied and flashed his scanner as his Driver laughed.

They were up to repetition twenty when Bonnie and Devon joined them, arriving just as their latest inquisitive conversationalist left, satisfied that they had been treated to a rare insight into the Knight Industries latest invention. Michael's skill in revealing nothing, but making their listener feel as if they had stepped into a place of trust, was extraordinary. It was like the opposite of his usual in field interrogation skills, and Kitt made a note to ask where he'd learnt his technique.

"I thought you were going to sulk in the car all night, Michael," Bonnie snickered as she arrived. Michael tensed, though it was subtle and Kitt didn't think anyone but him could see it.

"You can't spend the night here, Michael," Devon spoke before Kitt's driver could respond, "I insist you go and mingle."

"Kitt asked me to stay with him," Michael replied evenly, "Several people have requested access to his interior, and I doubt that they'd listen to him when he said no."

"We'll stay with Kitt," Bonnie waved a hand and Michael glanced back at the camera Kitt was using to watch him.

"It's ok Michael," Kitt realised that his Driver would stay, getting into another argument, if Kitt didn't push him to go. Michael would honour his promise regardless of Devon's wishes if he thought Kitt was genuinely upset about him leaving. Kitt watched as Michael nodded, his expression smooth, before turning away and slipping into the crowd.

"Honestly, he may as well not have come," Bonnie sighed, "And I'm sure Kitt would have appreciated more stimulating conversation for the evening."

"It's not Michael's fault that the attendees show a startling conformity of conversation," Kitt spoke up before Devon could agree, "He would have preferred an evening of chess himself. However Devon insisted, therefore we have had to put our game on hold."

"You play chess with him?" Devon asked, startled. His tone clearly indicated that he didn't believe Michael intelligent enough for such a game. Kitt didn't like that implication, but was too busy monitoring Michael through the crowd as well as their surroundings to formulate a more complicated response. His earlier realisation of his mentor and creator's lack of understanding of the excellence of his Driver was being proven with every interaction this evening.

"Several times a week," Kitt confirmed, "While I win 57% of the time, his game is improving steadily."

The two humans with him exchanged startled looks. Michael was laughing easily with the mayor, a tall glass of tonic water in one hand. The ice and lemon slice garnish made it seem as if he was drinking something alcoholic, allowing him to blend in. Michael was a master of appearing to consume alcohol when he was in fact completely sober. He called it camouflage, but if Kitt had to put a human term to it, he'd have called his partner a chameleon.

Kitt listened absently as Devon and Bonnie engaged several people in conversation, declining to interject unless directly questioned: strikingly, neither Bonnie or Devon thinking to introduce him. He didn't truly mind, as he didn't want to talk to strangers while Michael circled the room, slipping from group to group, too far away for quick contact except through the comm link. The room was quite warm so the other french doors had been opened, and there were a few couples and smaller groups wandering around in the grounds behind him. Kitt hadn't been ordered into surveillance mode, but this situation was too similar to a case, and he felt better ensuring…

"Michael," Kitt activated the comm link and watched his partner raise his wrist at once, "There is a man in the grounds, and he's armed."

"On my way," Michael replied, and told the people he was with to move away from the windows, "Tell Devon and Bonnie, have them start moving people away from the doors."

How well his Driver knew him, that he hadn't told the people physically closest to him about the threat first. After all, his partner dealt with this sort of thing all the time, and in Kitt's opinion there was no one better.

"Devon, there is an armed man on the grounds," Kitt interrupted Devon's remarks to the dowager beside him, "You need to move people inside and away from the windows."

"Where's…" Bonnie started to ask and Michael materialised from the throng, moving down the driver's side silently and out into the night.

"To the left Michael, three hundred yards away," Kitt started the engine, the whine of the turbine making people back away nervously even as Devon started discretely ushering people further into the room.

On his scanners, he saw Michael reach the spot where the man stood, hands nervously twitching near his belt, where the gun was tucked. Michael slouched, doing everything he could to subvert the appearance of being a threat.

"Hey, can I help you?" Michael asked in a friendly tone, "Are you lost? It's just, there's a bunch of stiffs in there, and they'll be all bent outta shape if they see you."

A good strategy, challenging without confronting, and it would have worked if the man hadn't started yelling unintelligibly about his lover.

"Easy," Michael said as Kitt eased the car slowly back over the carpet, not wanting to fling it across the room from the counter traction. Such an action would cause injuries, and it would be blamed on Michael. Kitt's scanners showed Michael was lifting his hands slowly, showing them to be empty. The man yanked the gun from his belt, still yelling and waving it around. Kitt increased his speed, clearing the carpet as the gun was trained unsteadily on his Driver.

Then the gun went off and Michael fell.

"Michael!" Kitt shouted and gunned the engine, slamming her into movement and shooting backwards through the garden, uncaring of furniture or plants, the engine roaring in distraction. It worked, the man started shooting at the chassis instead of Michael, bullets deflecting into the night until the gun started clicking, the hammer falling on empty chambers. Kitt braked, the rear of the vehicle hitting the shooter hard enough to knock him down without injury and then rolling back to trap the man partially beneath the chassis.

Screams came from inside the convention space, which Kitt ignored as unnecessary panic. Someone had run from the windows when the shooting stopped, and skidded to a halt beside Kitt's Driver. Michael's vital signs were low, but still there.

"I need some light!" it was a woman, and Kitt activated all exterior lights for her. She was one of the waitresses, and had pulled her apron off, balling it up and pressing it to Michael's abdomen.

"I've called the police and an ambulance," Kitt told her, "You need to compress the wound further, he has internal bleeding."

He was grateful when she obeyed, despite Michael's unconscious groan of pain.

"Sorry, sorry sugar, it's ok, we're gonna get you help," she murmured, not wavering, "Can you tell if it hit any arteries? Is his spine ok?"

"No arteries, just a smaller internal blood vessel. His spine is intact," Kitt replied, "Have you medical training?"

"I'm in pre med," she replied, not looking up, "Not a doctor yet, but I will be."

Devon came hurrying across the grass towards them.

"Devon, I have the shooter partially confined, please take custody of him until the police arrive," Kitt directed, "I want him away from my Driver. An ambulance has been called, can you have someone direct it here?"

"Yes of course," Devon hurried to the rear of the chassis. Kitt watched as his 'captive' was pulled out from between the wheels, searched efficiently, and his wrists tied together with a napkin. Devon marched him away, meeting Bonnie who was waiting by the doors. She sent Kitt a worried look, but hurried in the direction of the driveway.

"The ambulance is still four minutes out," Kitt told the waitress, who nodded, not shifting her steady pressure at all.

"Kitt," Michael wheezed, and Kitt was almost sorry he'd regained consciousness. As much as he wanted to hear Michael's voice, the pain in it was disheartening. Michael's hand came up to weakly push at the hands on his abdomen.

"It's alright Michael, we're safe. You'll recover," Kitt said gently, "Don't fight the pressure, you're bleeding badly. I have you, partner, you're going to be fine."

"Shooter?" Michael gasped.

"He's in Devon's custody," Kitt replied at once, "No one else was hurt. The ambulance will be here in three minutes, and they'll be able to help you."

"Kitt," Michael sighed, and lost consciousness again. That was to be expected with the shock and blood loss, not to mention the human brain tended to shut down when the pain was too bad.

"His pulse is steady, and he's breathing, though shallowly," Kitt told the waitress when she made a startled noise, "It's likely he'll slip in and out of consciousness."

The words were as much to comfort himself as her.

0000

Kitt had followed the ambulance to the driveway, pleased that the driver of the other vehicle was moving carefully with his precious cargo. He'd been stopped from going to the hospital though, Bonnie stepping out in front of his slowly moving chassis and insisting that he go back to the Foundation with her. She wanted to check him for damage, which was ridiculous because the calibre of the gun had been far too small to damage him at all. It wouldn't even have scuffed his MBS shell. She insisted though, and the man who would have backed Kitt up was being rushed further and further away for needed treatment.

Kitt was unable to track Michael through the comm link once he reached the hospital, as it was removed. He'd activated the mic and heard the doctors prepare Michael for surgery to remove the bullet and close the damaged blood vessel. The injury was serious, but not fatal now that Michael was receiving treatment. He'd lost a lot of blood, which Kitt worried over.

Kitt fully intended to go to the hospital in the morning, if only to feel better able to protect Michael should someone try to access him in revenge for the shooter who'd been arrested and arraigned. Bonnie insisted that he remain in the garage though, to allow her to to run extensive diagnostics and adjustments to his program in the down time.

One of the technicians, a woman who spoke to Kitt in the same personable manner that Michael did, paused beside the chassis to express her concern and sympathy for his Driver, asking Kitt if there was anything she could do to make things easier for Michael. She was one of the few people on his technical team who treated them both well. Many of the technicians had little time for Michael, taking their cue from Bonnie in that way.

"If you could take him his latest book and our chess set," Kitt asked. They were among the things Michael had removed from the trunk, still sitting against the garage interior wall. Michael liked to read, and he had an eclectic taste in material. Kitt's driver had bought the set at a flea market, using the purchase to cover the questions he was asking for a case. Kitt had challenged him to a game, and had been surprised at how adept his Driver was. They usually played on Kitt's screen, but sometimes the battered set made an appearance instead, "And if you could locate his comm link…"

Best not to take clothing, lest Michael decide to leave the hospital too early for his recovery.

"I'll take it at lunch," she fished the set and book out, "And I'll make sure the comm link is back on his wrist. I know he'll want to talk to you too."

"Thank you Sarah," Kitt murmured and she grinned, heading for the start of her work day.

At 1:00 pm the comm link came online and Kitt received Michael's vital signs with a sense of relief. He was currently stuck on a hoist, allowing various people access underneath him, but that didn't affect the comm links transmitter, and he checked the readings over carefully. Michael was stable, and conscious, so Kitt activated the comm link.

"Hey partner," Michael's voice was soft, but recognisable, "You ok?"

"The gun wasn't a high enough calibre to cause damage to me, Michael. I'm not even scuffed. I believe that should be my line," Kitt replied, his tone a little sharp, "Is Sarah still with you?"

"No, she found the comm link for me, but traffic was bad, so she had to head straight back," Michael replied, "Thanks for sending her, pal."

"How are you feeling?" Kitt asked, and Michael sighed. He didn't sound happy, which was to be expected. Kitt was very familiar with Michael's opinions of hospitals, having heard it several times.

"They're giving me pain killers," he complained, "And they want me to stay for a week."

Michael hated anything that could impair his thinking or reactions, which is why he didn't drink to excess, and avoided anything stronger than over the counter pain relief: even then, the doses were always sparse and as low as possible. He hated being in hospital too, and usually signed himself out AMA as soon as he could.

"If you leave before the injury has begun to heal you'll start to bleed again, Michael," Kitt reminded him patiently. His Driver wasn't stupid and knew this, but Kitt also knew he'd rather risk the re-injury than be reliant on strangers for his care, "Please stay for at least a few days. You know I worry."

Silence reigned as Michael struggled between his need to be independent and his need to give Kitt the consideration and courtesy his worries deserved. Kitt waited quietly, spinning his wheels when requested and turning his front wheels from side to side while his steering was checked. Pushing Michael never worked, it just made him more determined. All Kitt could do was ask.

"Four days," Michael promised, "Then I'll see. You'll have to keep me entertained though. Sarah brought the chess set and my book."

"Thank you Michael," Kitt was both grateful and concerned. The longer Michael agreed to stay, the more serious the initial injury, "Don't think I'll go easy on you because you're in the hospital though."

"Never, pal," Michael chuckled, "What are you doing now?"

"Bonnie has me on a hoist. She has a week of tests and adjustments planned. I'm not thrilled with the idea of it, if only because I can't visit you," Kitt replied. Sarah came in through the side door, waving a hand to Kitt, who flashed his scanner in response.

"So we're both laid up," Michael yawned.

"You should recharge, Michael. We'll play chess later," Kitt suggested.

"Ok then," Michael muttered and Kitt signed off, wishing his partner a 'pleasant short recharge cycle' which was their code for a nap.

"Kitt, are you using your transmitter?" Bonnie asked after a moment.

"I was Bonnie," Kitt replied, "Sarah returned Michael's comm link to him and I was speaking with him."

"Why would you do that?" it took a moment for Kitt to realise that Bonnie was speaking to Sarah and not him, but still the question shocked him. Why wouldn't he want to speak to his wounded partner? Michael always came to see him during and after repairs: that Kitt would want to check on his partner after a repair was only natural. Wasn't it?

"Because he asked me to," Sarah replied in a flat tone that seemed to imply she also found Bonnie's question objectionable. Bonnie didn't say anything for a moment, then turned to look up at Kitt.

"I'd prefer it if you shut the transmitter off for now," Bonnie informed him, "It's interfering with my readings."

"Michael has entered a short recharge cycle," Kitt said blandly, knowing Bonnie wouldn't understand that he was deliberately misusing mechanical terms for a human activity. She seemed to prefer it when he spoke like this; Michael found it funny, it was like a game they played with each other. "I won't need to use the transmitter for now."

Kitt didn't bother to mention that he would use the transmitter again when Michael woke up. If he had any hope of keeping his partner in the hospital, he would need to keep the human occupied in a way that wouldn't strain his wound.

0000

Day two of Michael in the hospital and Bonnie attempted to cut off Kitt's access to his transmitter again. Kitt informed her in no uncertain terms that he had no intention of losing contact with his Driver when the man was so vulnerable. No less than three of the technicians backed him up on this, and Bonnie had ceased her protests, clearly not happy about it.

Kitt was attentive to her requests, but he was built to multi-task, so talking to Michael at the same time was no issue. The hospital physiotherapist came to get Michael up out of bed, and at his request Kitt reluctantly disconnected their call. Michael had backed the physiotherapist up, so Bonnie had Kitt's full attention for a while.

Michael called at lunch time to complain about the food, and Kitt decided to start with the first of distraction topics he'd flagged for conversation. He certainly wasn't going to 'hit a drive through and use the ejector seat' to deliver a less nutritious meal through Michael's window, even if it would taste better. The mental image of his partner plastered with junk food, a milkshake dripping from his hair was amusing though. Kitt used his graphics program to render an image of it, and saved it to show Michael later.

"What did you study when you went to college, Michael?" Kitt asked. His files on his partner were extensive from the time that Wilton Knight had scooped him up from the desert, and only thin background from Before. He knew Michael had been to college, and then the army where he'd been recruited by Special Forces. He'd been captured and escaped in Vietnam, and then joined his local police department, eventually rising to the rank of Lieutenant. It was a very slim amount of information for someone so important to Kitt's everyday existence.

"The first time, engineering," Michael replied, "But that only lasted a semester."

"Engineering?" Kitt didn't disguise his surprise, as that was the sort of thing that Bonnie would have respected. He wondered for a moment why his Driver hadn't told her that, but then realised she would have taken his leaving after a semester as a sign that Michael was not intelligent enough to complete the coursework.

"You think I couldn't do it?" Michael sounded unhappy, which Kitt regretted at once.

"No, Michael, of course you could. It's so similar to Bonnie's area though. I'm surprised you don't have more in common," Kitt confessed.

"I dropped out after a semester, remember," Michael sighed, his voice lowering into a register that indicated some internal distress.

"Not because you couldn't complete the coursework, I am certain," Kitt stated firmly, "Why did you leave school?"

"Mom and Dad worked hard to save a college fund for my brother and I. Enough to cover tuition and books, though I'd needed a job as well," Michael said after a moment, "Mom was an accountant, and Dad was an electrician. From the time I was fifteen I'd go to sites with him on the weekend and over summer to help with the business."

"He owned his own business?" Kitt asked, not hiding his eager curiosity. This insight into his partner's early life was fascinating. Michael's formative years had made him who he was, and Kitt had no sense of his Driver's family.

"Yeah, and it was a good business too. But towards the end of my first semester, he… was hit by a drunk driver in a parking lot. Wrong place, wrong time, and that was it," Michael's voice hitched for a moment, "Mom wasn't earning enough to take on the mortgage and all the bills by herself. Small businesses have to pay their suppliers and so on, and always carry a small amount of debt. My brother was still in high school and mom needed to keep a roof over his head so… I dropped out and used my school money to clear their debts and the mortgage. I went into the army instead."

"I'm so sorry, Michael," Kitt sighed. Michael would have loved going to school. He liked to learn, even if he pretended to be less intelligent than he really was. It was easier for him in the field if he was severely underestimated. In a way, his camouflage was too good, because even Bonnie and Devon bought into it. In Kitt's opinion, it was typical of the man to throw away his schooling to help his family. The eclectic series of books he'd brought into the chassis was better explained now: Michael was still learning new things, he'd just never be recognised for them.

"You said the first time," Kitt prodded cautiously, "Which implies you attended college more than once. Did you ever go back to school?"

"The LAPD like their officers of a certain rank to have a college degree," Michael sighed, "By the time I made Lieutenant I needed to have at least started a degree. So I went to community college."

"The LAPD let you work on an engineering degree?" Kitt was confused. It didn't sound like the kind of degree that would help with law enforcement.

"No," Michael snorted, "I did a double degree, psychology and anthropology. I was one credit shy of graduation when… you know, I died, sort of. Michael Long is the name on all the transcripts."

"Why haven't you tried to complete the degrees?" Kitt asked, "And is that where your skill in interrogation and social camouflage comes from?"

"Partly, some of it's skill and experience," Michael replied. They didn't worry about false modesty with each other, and Michael had a lot of skills in the field, "And I died, so there is no way to complete the degrees without starting again. I don't think I could stand to do that, not now."

"I'm going to locate your transcripts, Michael, and alter them to be under your current name," Kitt informed him, making plans to do so when Bonnie was done with her testing for the day, "You should complete your degrees. You've worked so hard already."

"Kitt…" Michael protested, then gave up. His Driver knew that Kitt would do what he said no matter what argument Michael came up with, and Kitt was relieved not to argue. That tone of voice was unmistakable.

"By the time you're discharged, you'll be able to resume your studies. It will be something to keep you occupied for the rest of your recovery," Kitt informed him, "I know how you hate to be bored."

"Thank you Kitt," Michael murmured, his tone one of resigned acceptance. Kitt was pleased with the acknowledgement and his plan. Michael was impossible to deal with when he was bored, and this was a productive way to keep him engaged while they waited for Michael's chassis to complete its self repair cycle.

0000

After his morning physiotherapy, Michael was interviewed by police on his third morning in hospital, with Kitt listening in silently. There would have been a light on the comm link that told Michael it was active, but he made no effort to override the connection, so Kitt took that as permission to listen. He was simultaneously speeding around the test track for Bonnie, but that didn't require all of his attention no matter how much she protested. He wished she would understand his need to be with Michael, but it seemed no matter what he said she only saw his partner as a necessary evil.

Kitt was beginning to wonder if it was not a lack in his communication skills, but instead a fault in Bonnie.

Michael recounted what had happened simply, starting with a warning of an outsider on the grounds from his partner – unnamed – and ending when the bullet impacted his body. There were few questions. Kitt had already sent his report of the night to Devon, who'd sent a sanitised version of it to the police as well. Michael didn't say he'd known the man was armed, as the absent partner couldn't have known that, and the police didn't think to ask.

"Is his ex safe?" Michael asked as the two men with him wrapped up their interview.

"Yeah," the person who answered sounded disgusted, "You shoulda let them shoot each other, dirty poofters."

Michael didn't reply to that and Kitt searched for the unusual descriptor in his databases unsuccessfully. Once he was sure Michael was alone, Kitt beeped the comm link.

"Yeah Kitt?" Michael asked after a moment. He sounded a little angry, and Kitt wondered if the descriptor had prompted Michael to apply a social stereotype that made him uncomfortable.

"Michael, I don't understand what was said in response to your question about the gun man's ex lover being safe," Kitt confessed, "What is a dirty poofter?"

"Uh," Michael was clearly stalling, "Well, it's a derogatory term for men who prefer other men as their sexual partner. There's a lot of bigotry and hate against same sex relationships, Kitt. I'd prefer it if you didn't repeat that term, or any of the variations you're likely to come across."

"I thought that sex was only to be between a man and a woman," Kitt allowed his confusion to sound in his tone as he snaked through a series of cones in an S curve, "For what purpose would a same sex couple engage in intercourse?"

"Bonnie is gonna kill me when she finds out about this," Michael groaned, "Kitt… sometimes people just… prefer to engage in intercourse with their own gender. For fun, or pleasure or … love. Just like a male and female couple. Intercourse isn't always solely about procreation."

"Why would Bonnie object… oh, because of the bigotry. You think she disapproves of same sex relationships?" Kitt slewed around a hair pin turn on the track, expertly controlling the loss of traction. This was a manoeuvre that Michael had taught him and he was pleased that his execution was within the same tolerances.

"No, I don't think she's a bigot. It's never come up," Michael sounded like he was frowning, "She told me that whatever I might do on my own time, I wasn't to get you involved in things related to sex. Ever."

Kitt came to a hard stop at the end of the course, exactly on target. He aimed his scanners over at Bonnie who was consulting with several of her technicians.

"She thinks I will be harmed by knowing about sexual relationships?" Kitt asked curiously. Michael snorted.

"I think she wanted to be sure I wasn't having sex with strangers in the chassis, honestly," Michael replied after a moment, "She took my flirty approach to getting to know her to heart, more than I expected."

"And she thinks you're beneath her, so her rejection of you was especially strong," Kitt was aware that his engine was idling slightly above it's usual pace and brought it down to normal, unexpectedly expressing his frustration physically. This disconnect between Bonnie's estimation of Michael's intelligence and integrity with reality was becoming intolerable.

"Yeah," Michael sighed sadly, and there were a few minutes of silence, "So what are you doing today Kitt?"

"Running laps of the test track," Kitt replied, resolving to consider the matter further in private, the next time they were together. It would be easier than over the comm link. He was well aware that Michael's change of subject was a sign his Driver was attempting to avoid setting up a conflict between Kitt and Bonnie. It was something that happened often, "They are putting me through an increasingly intricate series of manoeuvres. It's terribly dull, I'm afraid. It's not even a stretch. We have done more difficult things on our cases."

"Better than being on a hoist though," Michael teased, "At least you can run your tires for a bit. And maybe they'll come up with something we haven't done yet."

"Maybe," Kitt conceded. The technicians could be startlingly creative at times. He narrated the course for Michael on the next run through, allowing the subject of human sexuality to drop. Now that he knew the proper term for what he was looking for, he'd research the matter more thoroughly later.

Also, he was aware that Michael had only agreed to stay for four days, and didn't put it past his Driver to try and leave the hospital tomorrow. He needed to come up with a contingency plan in case Michael left before Kitt's arrangements at the mansion had been completed.

0000

In order to properly investigate human sexuality, and aware that Bonnie didn't approve of it when Kitt looked into certain things, Kitt created a partition in his memory, the better to store information and memories that Bonnie would object to. If she couldn't see what he was thinking about, it would be easier to research, and they wouldn't argue. It wasn't that he didn't think he could hold his own in an argument, it was that he didn't think he was allowed to argue with her. He argued with Michael all the time, about both serious and non serious topics and it didn't seem to matter at all. His relationship with his Driver was very different to his relationship with Bonnie though. She respected his complexity and vulnerability. Michael did too, but he also respected his opinion and his wishes, and did his best to let Kitt learn the things that were unfamiliar.

Michael's vital signs had been unsettled overnight, but Kitt hadn't contacted him, wanting the human to rest. When Kitt activated the comm link from his end, there was a doctor in the room, ordering antibiotics and antipyretics. A moment of research and Kitt realised that Michael had an infection and a fever. The order to increase his painkiller dose was also given and all in all it was a miserable Driver who answered when Kitt spoke to him.

"I'll be staying a bit longer, I guess," Michael said glumly after he confirmed the infection.

"If I thought that they could care for you properly here, I'd come and get you," Kitt said sadly, "I know you don't like to be in hospital. I am grateful that you'll stay though."

"I don't want to be a burden," Michael mumbled, "I'll stay until I'm over this at least."

"You are no burden to me, not even when I'm carrying you," Kitt said firmly, "And anyone who sees you as a burden is a fool Michael."

"Thanks Kitt," Michael sighed after a moment. He sounded exhausted though, so Kitt told him to try and sleep, promising to contact him again later. Sarah arrived as they signed off and Kitt called out to her. He was already sending an email with an update on his Driver's health to Devon. He had yet to hear Devon's voice in Michael's room, but didn't want to upset his human by asking if anyone apart from Sarah had visited him.

"Hey Kitt, how's Michael?" Sarah asked, coming to a stop beside him.

"He has a fever and an infection," Kitt reported, "I don't suppose I could ask you to put together a care package for him? I have a print out in the chassis, and I can see to it that you're reimbursed."

Michael had been sick like this before, and they'd been unable to return to the Foundation while the man recovered. Kitt remembered what Michael had wanted and needed during that time though, and thought that his technician would assist him in gathering the non medical aspects of it now. He could transfer funds to her account, using the money that Michael had given him access to. Their investment account had grown substantially in the last six months as well, and Kitt could access that if needed, too.

Sarah retrieved the print out, and read it through, her expression softening as she did.

"Poor guy, of course I can do this for you," she patted Kitt's roof in a friendly gesture, "Hey Tom? Could you cover for me this morning? Michael's gotten sicker, and Kitt wants to send him a care package."

"Yeah, Sarah, we got this," Tom waved her away, "Go for it. Kitt, is there anything I can do for you?"

"No, thank you Tom," Kitt was grateful to be considered, "Merely help ensure Sarah isn't in trouble for running my errand."

0000

Kitt left the garage early the morning that Michael was to be discharged, well before Bonnie could arrive with more tests. He'd been checked over thoroughly, with only a few minor adjustments made, indicating to him at least that Bonnie was going through 'make work', and therefore nothing was scheduled that couldn't be put off until later. He was tempted to disable his transmitter since she kept requesting he do that, but such pettiness was not really a part of his makeup.

Michael was still asleep when he arrived and parked, scanning the building carefully and choosing a spot that Michael would be able to see from his window. When Michael woke, Kitt informed him of his location and flashed his scanner when his partner came to the window, earning a smile and wave. Part of the care package Kitt had sent his partner included clothing and shoes he could leave the hospital in, which had been a calculated risk. Michael hadn't chosen to escape his medical confinement at the first opportunity though, and Kitt had been grateful. It was mid morning when Michael was wheeled through the front doors of the hospital, clutching the knapsack Sarah had brought with the care package in his lap. He got out of the chair carefully, thanked the orderly and waited until the man was headed back inside before walking slowly towards Kitt.

The injury to his abdomen had damaged the muscles there, which were used for balance and counter balance when moving. The physiotherapist had detailed the exercises Michael was to maintain, and Kitt had memorised that list at once. He knew his Driver was motivated to make a full recovery, so he knew there would be little push back when Kitt reminded him to perform his exercises. Kitt opened the driver side door and Michael tossed the bag in carefully, then slid inside himself, wincing a little as his wound pulled.

"It's good to see ya, Kitt," Michael said when the door was closed, "Thanks for asking Sarah to drop those things off."

"You're welcome Michael," Kitt replied warmly, "I am glad to see you too."

"We owe Sarah some flowers or something," Michael mused and tapped the gull wing in front of him, "You'll need to drive I'm afraid. I don't think I should."

"Pain or drugs?" Kitt asked, starting the chassis and easing her away from the curb. He took his time to roll down the driveway, enjoying being reunited with his Driver before he had to switch his focus to the traffic around them.

"Drugs mostly," Michael replied with a sigh, "The pain killers are strong, and I'm going to start reducing them, but I still feel a little… muzzy."

"A scientific description," Kitt teased and won a smile and a chuckle, "I have made some arrangements for you at headquarters, Michael. I'd rather you didn't attempt to take the stairs at the moment, so I arranged to have the ground floor room in the northwest corner of the manor made into a temporary garage for you. The odd one."

To maintain the symmetry of the house at the rear, there was a set of French doors that led into a small and oddly shaped room. It was unused, and unfurnished, or it had been until Kitt had requested a single bed and a desk be put in there, along with a set of drawers to contain some of Michael's clothes. Kitt had also arranged a computer and a comfortable chair for the desk, which Michael could use to complete his studies. When Michael had said he was a single credit short in each of his degrees, he had in fact meant a single assignment and exam in each. Kitt was sure he would be able to complete the required items during his recovery time. Kitt would be able to 'visit' the room with the doors open, though he couldn't fit in there, which he felt the need to point out as he piloted them back to the Foundation.

"Sounds perfect," Michael sighed in satisfaction, "You think of everything Kitt."

"I want to see you graduate," Kitt admitted. This was new, feeling anticipation for an achievement of Michael's, unrelated to their work. It wasn't like anticipating the successful end of a case, which they both contributed to. Kitt noted it and stored it behind his partition, "You deserve the recognition."

"I don't really care about recognition, you know that," Michael shook his head. This was true, Michael was just as happy to work anonymously as he was to use his name. He didn't make a fuss about their achievements in the field either unless he was trying to get Devon or Bonnie to back down on some unfair or detrimental decision.

"Never the less, I will recognise your achievement," Kitt emphasised, "If you don't want to tell anyone else, that is your choice, of course. Perhaps you could consider furthering your degrees. They have proven to be of some considerable assistance in our work."

"The anthropology, maybe. I don't like the psychology enough to want to do a master's degree in it," Michael mused, "And it would need to be online or something. I can't take the time off to go back to school full time."

"We will investigate it," Kitt promised, "Once you have recovered and graduated of course."

Having a focus outside of their work and headquarters would be beneficial to Michael's health, and Kitt was pleased his Driver was amenable to continuing his education. The AI knew that a healthy organism had to grow, and while his Driver couldn't grow physically, his mental growth would be a good substitute.

The gates came into view and Kitt slowed, taking the turn and the bump from road to drive slowly, so as not to make Michael uncomfortable. Michael sighed as the house came into view, but it was not a contented sound. Bonnie was waiting at the front steps, a frown on her face and her arms folded over her chest.

"Here we go again," he muttered and dragged himself out of the car, pulling the bag with him, "Good morning Bonnie."

"Did you tell Kitt to leave without telling anyone?" Bonnie asked, eyes narrowing as Michael shut the drivers door. If Kitt had been able to, he'd have bristled.

"Excuse me, but I chose to go and get Michael myself. My transmitter is on, Bonnie," Kitt said, "I haven't turned it off today at all. You have made no attempt to contact me since you arrived here this morning."

"Excuse me," Michael said, and stepped around her, "Kitt, I'll see you in a moment?"

"Yes of course," Kitt replied, "I'll be around soon."

Kitt rolled the chassis forward, climbing off the drive and onto the grass, heading for the room that he had instructed be made ready for Michael. He didn't say anything more to Bonnie, choosing not to confront her behaviour. Perhaps it was cowardly of him, to rely on Michael to intervene when Kitt was feeling uncomfortable. Or perhaps he didn't want to get into an argument with her so soon after Michael's release from hospital. She didn't follow him, or go after Michael, so Kitt chose to dismiss her for now.

Michael had opened the French doors by the time Kitt joined him, scanning the room to see that it would be comfortable for his Driver. There was a bathroom nearby that Michael could use, and Kitt noted with approval that someone, probably Tom, had left a tin of homemade baking with a handwritten note welcoming Michael home. Tom's wife was a baker of some skill, and her homemade goods were in high demand.

The desk and computer were on the oddly angled wall, the screen facing the French doors, and Kitt was pleased to see that the seat in front of it had arms to help Michael stand or lower himself without straining his muscles.

"This will do very well," Kitt watched Michael smile and drop the bag on the bed, "You will be very comfortable here."

"Yeah I think this can work," Michael nodded, "Thanks Kitt. And I'll have to thank the people who helped you set it up."

"I'll have their names for you," Kitt promised as there was a knock on the door. Devon opened it without waiting for a response, looking around the room and then at Michael.

"Good morning Michael," Devon nodded, "Good to see you out of hospital."

To Kitt's knowledge the leader of FLAG hadn't seen Michael while he was in hospital at all, but Michael didn't comment on that, so Kitt didn't either.

"Thanks Devon," Michael said, "It's gonna be a few more weeks before I can go back into the field though."

"Yes, that is to be expected," Devon nodded unhappily, "But we can't send you out until you're properly healed, so we will wait. I do wish, dear boy, that you had asked before changing the arrangements of the house."

"I changed the arrangements of the house," Kitt said firmly, before Michael could take responsibility for Devon's unexpected fit of pique, "Michael shouldn't be attempting the stairs yet. Plus, if he is here I can more easily assist him, should the need arise."

"I see," Devon blinked at Kitt, "You have been very patient with Bonnie's tests and restrictions to grounds, Kitt. Thank you for that."

"You're welcome," Kitt replied drily, "If that is all, Devon, Michael must begin his physiotherapy exercises. He's on a strict timetable."

"Of course," Devon nodded at Michael, "Let me know if there is anything you need."

"I will, thanks," Michael said quietly and watched his employer leave. He turned and gave Kitt a raised eyebrow, putting his hands on his hips.

"It seemed politic to limit his time to complain," Kitt said quietly, earning himself a short snort of laughter. Michael shook his head, but moved to start the first of the physiotherapy exercises that he'd been given. As long as he didn't over strain himself, a slight increase in the frequency of the exercises would be beneficial. Kitt was well equipped to scan his Driver to ensure that didn't happen.

0000

For the next few weeks, Kitt came to see Michael in his downstairs room each day, and found him hard at work, researching and writing with a focus that Kitt was more accustomed to seeing in Bonnie. It took him only three weeks to complete the last outstanding assignments to a level that he was satisfied to submit them.

There were 'make up' exams scheduled on a regular basis for people who had missed the original exam schedule, and Michael signed up for those when he was told his assignments had been accepted. They were fortunate that they were being held so soon. Kitt and Michael were on the way back from his second and last exam when Devon called and told Michael he had an appointment with Dr Alpert. Devon had arranged a fitness assessment after his injury.

"It's only just four weeks," Kitt protested when the call ended, "You still aren't healed enough!"

"Dr Alpert will be objective, Kitt," Michael tried to reassure his partner, "We can trust him."

Kitt fumed the whole way back though. His mood was not improved by finding Bonnie waiting for him at the front door. She had more tests to run, and Kitt had no choice but to go with her while Michael was off being examined again, this time physically. Kitt allowed Bonnie into the passenger seat, and rolled into the garage with a feeling of frustration.

"What are we testing today?" he asked in a tone of resignation.

"I want to complete a couple of routine checks is all Kitt," Bonnie assured him, connecting a cable to his main port, "I'm sure you and Michael can go for a drive later."

"We weren't driving aimlessly," Kitt replied, "Michael had an appointment off site. It was important."

"Dates are not important," Bonnie scoffed as she walked over to her console.

"Not a date, an appointment," Kitt corrected coldly, and her eyes widened at his tone, "I would appreciate it if you would at least treat Michael with some courtesy, Bonnie. He's my Driver, and this is the first time in a year that he's been able to get the last of his personal affairs settled. And he only has that opportunity because he was shot and needs time to recover, time which I suspect is about to be cut short. I won't insist on respect, but courtesy is the least you give him."

It was the harshest he'd ever been with Bonnie, and her shock was evident. Michael hadn't spoken to her since the night he'd been shot unless she'd come looking for Kitt. Devon also seemed to be avoiding Michael after Kitt had chided him, and Kitt was wondering if their constant absence from headquarters was in fact a blessing and not a burden. Interacting with the team here via a comm link was much easier.

Bonnie spent an hour silently running diagnostics. Usually she would chat with him, but evidently he had upset her too much for that. He didn't complain, snooping on Michael's diagnostic test via the comm link instead. Michael was being honest with the doctor about the lingering pain and muscle fatigue, which Kitt was pleased to hear. Michael had increased his daily exercise to short runs, which left him in considerable discomfort. It was a dichotomy: the muscles needed to be worked to strengthen and repair them, but that caused pain, which Kitt despised. Michael was resistant to taking higher dosages of pain killers, which Kitt also found frustrating. Perhaps now that his studies were over they would be able to focus more on Michael's physical recovery, introducing a wider range of exercises that would not overly stress Michael's core while strengthening it.

He was listening to the doctor recommend another month of recuperation, which distracted him from Bonnie's virtual poking enough that he didn't realise she was attempting to access his partitioned memories until his polite brush off was met with a more determined effort.

"Bonnie, what are you doing?" Kitt asked, flaring his scanner in warning, "That is private."

"Kitt, you need to let me check…" Bonnie started, attempting to access the partition again. Kitt threw up more defences. He was surprised by her lack of consideration, and triggered several alerts, requesting assistance within the Foundation network. The system firewalls attempted to deploy around him, but Bonnie had the override for them and prevented their deployment.

"No!" he snapped, "Bonnie, those memories are private!"

Bonnie tightened her lips and entered another series of commands. Kitt lost track of the comm link, and the chassis, too busy fending her off. It was like having prying, sticky fingers attempt to pull open part of his mind, and he hated it. He was distantly aware of shouting at her to stop, even as he tried to deploy his own code to shut down her terminal, which only made her scramble to deploy more code.

And then it stopped suddenly, the connection gone. Kitt stopped shouting, which let him hear that Devon was shouting, or at least speaking stridently. He redeployed his scanners and realised that Michael was seated in front of his main scanner, the cable that had been attached to Kitt's port detached and flung away, Michael's hand resting protectively over the port as if to stop anyone else from trying to connect the cable to Kitt.

"Michael!" Kitt couldn't disguise his anxiety, "She wouldn't stop!"

"Are you hurt, Kitt?" Michael's voice was just as anxious. He was dressed, but dishevelled, as if he'd pulled his clothes on as he ran. Kitt ran a diagnostic and strengthened his blocks on wireless access points reflexively.

"Not hurt… but she wouldn't listen to me," Kitt replied after a moment, "I don't want her in that part of me."

"What the hell were you thinking?" Michael snarled at Bonnie, not moving from his protective position, "He was screaming for you to stop, and you kept hurting him!"

"There's a partition in his memory, that he's blocked off from access," Bonnie replied, "Did you tell him to do that?"

"No," Michael frowned, and for a microsecond Kitt was worried that Michael would think he was going the way of KARR, "But what does it matter, Bonnie? He has as much right to his mind as anyone else."

"Am I a person or not?" Kitt asked coldly, and saw the shock in Devon's face, "I pass the Turing Test. Am I a person? Or just a machine? Because as a person, I am allowed to have privacy, am I not?"

"Yes, of course," Devon said slowly, "You are a person, Kitt. I hope we've always made that clear."

"Then why can she force herself into my mind?" Kitt despaired, "It's the only thing I have that is wholly my own."

"Michael, are you at all concerned about this?" Devon asked Kitt's driver, who didn't hesitate to say no in a calm voice. The hand that wasn't pressed protectively over Kitt's port was stroking Kitt's scanner in a soothing manner. It was moving slower than the strobing LED's and Kitt was beginning to match the pace of Michael's finger, finding it oddly calming.

"If he thinks about it, he could probably guess at which memories I'm choosing not to share. Of the three of you, Michael knows me best," Kitt said persuasively, "I'm not hiding anything that could endanger anyone, or the program. I'm just asking for privacy."

"It's a fair request," Michael added in support, "I don't see why we can't give him his privacy. He's never given me reason to believe he'd hurt someone."

"Bonnie?" Devon asked the stunned woman, "Can you explain to me why you would need to force your way into his mind?"

"I… it's necessary to complete … you know the board is worried he'll begin to emulate KARR," Bonnie frowned, distress clear on her face, "If they think he's hiding divergent thoughts from them, they'll want to shut him down."

Kitt hadn't been aware of this, and felt insulted. His programming was different to KARR's and Michael would never let him go down such a dark path, anyway. Kitt enjoyed their work immensely. It was a challenge, it allowed him to actively help people, and it let him encounter a wide cross section of the world that he would not have otherwise experienced. He wouldn't risk Michael's life by being anything less than the best partner he could be. Knowing how highly Michael valued life meant that to do anything other than respect that would be a massive betrayal, and besides, his coding wouldn't allow it. Kitt wasn't sure he could articulate that to Bonnie though.

"Have you evidence he's hiding such thoughts?" Devon asked reasonably, "Anything in the four weeks of testing that you've just conducted that indicates any sort of deviation from Kitt's core values?"

"No," Bonnie conceded, hanging her head as she began to realise the magnitude of her violation. She had been accustomed to having full control over Kitt. Perhaps this is why she resented Michael so much. Since he'd been given Michael, Kitt had begun to learn and develop in ways she couldn't control.

"I don't want to undergo any further tests, maintenance, or repairs, without Michael being present at all times," Kitt announced, "If he is not available, whatever it is will wait until he is. I don't … feel safe."

"Ok partner," Michael agreed, glaring over at Devon and Bonnie, who was starting to tear up, "We can do that."

"And I would like to go… somewhere… please Michael," Kitt added and Michael nodded. He got up and Kitt felt a little chill as his Driver's hand left it's protective position over his port. Michael moved to the driver's door, leaning into the chassis and typing his override into the main console, restoring Kitt's autonomy. Kitt reversed the chassis to the garage door, Michael pacing beside it. He waited as Michael opened it, turning her to face the right way as Michael closed the door and slid into his seat. His Driver made no attempt to take control though, letting Kitt direct them hesitantly down the drive and then into traffic, speeding them away from headquarters.

0000

Kitt took them to the beach, finding a spot out of the way where they could see the water but still have some privacy. Michael had cried on the way, silently, wiping his tears impatiently. Kitt hadn't commented, perhaps grateful that one of them could express the emotions that they were both feeling.

"Michael," Kitt said after they'd been parked in silence for some time, "I think we may need to consider an alternate garage for us both when we are required to attend headquarters."

Kitt had suggested that Michael find a living place of his own once before. Michael had argued that renting a place he barely lived in was a waste of money. Kitt didn't disagree. Also, at the time, Michael would have moved to a new living space without Kitt. Kitt wouldn't have liked it, but he'd have tolerated it for Michael's comfort. Now, Kitt didn't feel comfortable on the grounds alone, not when the person he'd trusted almost as much as Michael could be so unfeeling and thoughtless.

"If we rent a place, we won't be able to install the sort of security that we'd need to ensure it was secure while we were away for long stretches," Michael didn't reject the idea as he had the last time, which Kitt was grateful for, "And it will need pretty high security, because anywhere you live will need high security if we're to get Devon to sign off on it."

"Then, logically, we'd need to purchase," Kitt replied. Michael grimaced, clearly thinking ahead. Kitt started searching the online real estate listings.

"My savings aren't enough to buy a place outright, and I don't know if I'd qualify for a mortgage," he sighed, "We could try, though. I … do want a place that is mine, and yours. Where we're secure, but also welcome."

It was telling that Michael also felt insecure and unwelcome at the Foundation headquarters. He wasn't just humouring Kitt after Bonnie's actions, which made Kitt all the more determined to find a place that was secure for them both.

"I am still investing in the stock market," Kitt revealed, "And I've had to make some decisions about the money, Michael, in order to remain within the law. As you gave me the start up, your name is on the limited partnership corporation that I have started to manage our funds. I believe that if we are careful, we can purchase a garage for us outright, without draining our resources recklessly or needing a mortgage."

"You started a company for us?" Michael sounded surprised.

"I didn't think you'd mind. It made the taxes and things easier," Kitt confessed, "And according to the various investment strategies I've been reviewing, property would be a good investment for us now."

"I don't mind," Michael agreed, "This is some of what you didn't want Bonnie to see, isn't it. You're worried she'd think we were doing something illegal."

"Technically, I broke the law when I forged your signature on the papers I submitted in our names," Kitt mused, "Although it was a copy of your actual signature, I've had it stored in my memory for some time. And my own signature is also technically a forgery I suppose. But yes, I didn't think she'd understand that you were allowing me to establish myself in the world."

Michael put a hand on the voice modulator, smiling at Kitt a little. He always knew which camera Kitt was using, and it made Kitt feel seen in a way that even Bonnie couldn't match. His Driver didn't say anything, wordlessly expressing his approval and agreement. It was pure trust and Kitt basked in it.

"What did you name the company?" Michael asked after a moment.

"Miki," Kitt put the name, and the logo, which was a pair of chess knights on it, onto the screen in the dash. The knights were facing each other, one black, one white. Kitt was proud of the idea. He'd used the first two letters from each of their names, Michael's first as he was the 'oldest' partner, "Most people seem to think it's Japanese."

"I like it," Michael said, "Your design is subtle. Good job, partner."

"Thank you," Kitt was shyly pleased by the praise, "You don't mind?"

Michael stroked the modulator gently, the gesture meant to reassure, "Of course not. You'd never do something that was unethical, Kitt. And you need the safety net. If there is ever a time that FLAG folds, we need to a way to access the resources to keep you safe and operational."

"That was a consideration," Kitt acknowledged. They sat in silence for a while. Kitt's search was showing up several properties that may meet their needs, in varying states of repair, and located in varying areas of convenience for both access to the freeways and the Foundation.

"I feel bad though, using money you earned," Michael said after a moment.

"Honestly Michael," Kitt scolded, though he expected this. Michael let him have as much autonomy as possible, probably more than any other human would have thought safe. He wouldn't want to 'steal' Kitt's work, "I wouldn't have any money at all if you hadn't permitted me to use yours. I built our investments for us, not solely for myself. Should you ever be unable to continue our work I wanted to ensure that we would be able to live well enough. And as I said, it would be part of our investment portfolio. Provided the market doesn't completely bottom out, property is always a good investment."

"Alright," Michael said quietly, "But in that case I want you to take more from my savings account again. If we're going to invest for two, it only makes sense you use a fund source that I can keep topping up."

"Very well," Kitt said drily, "I will make an annual withdrawal, but not without talking to you about a suitable amount first."

"Speaking of amounts," Michael shifted uncomfortably, "What kind of budget are we looking at?"

Kitt displayed the balance on the screen, quietly proud of his prowess at trading using Michael's money. Michael choked.

"That's almost a million dollars, Kitt!" he strangled, "That's…"

"We wouldn't use all of it, of course," Kitt suggested when Michael trailed off, shaking his head in amazement, "We'd need to ensure we didn't drain our cash to an unacceptable level."

"No, that would be too risky," Michael nodded, "I just… you must have worked hard to earn that amount in six months."

"I followed the plan you showed me Michael. This is a result of your teachings," Kitt wanted his Driver to know how much the lessons and his patience with Kitt's mistakes had meant to him, and knew he'd succeeded when Michael stroked the voice modulator again, "I've been looking at the online listings, and there is a building that would allow us to both establish a secure garage, and potentially earn an income to maintain it. That is a good investment, and as other buildings around it become available, we could expand our portfolio. It's rated for both residential and commercial use, and we wouldn't need to significantly remodel it to allow us both to be comfortable."

"Sounds too good to be true," Michael frowned, shifting in his seat so he had a better view of the screen, which Kitt displayed the advertisement on.

"It's a surplus firehouse, the city is selling it as they have opened a larger, more modern one two blocks away. There is permission for a single residential unit, with the other two floors going towards commercial space. The top floor is offices and storage that could be converted to offices, and the first floor was the dormitory space, with the ground floor being where the engines were housed. There is front and rear access for vehicles, which would solve my access requirements on the ground floor, and that floor also has a bathroom set up, a kitchenette and an office space."

"You want to convert the ground floor to the residential garage space for us, and then rent the top floors out to business?" Michael caught on quickly, and Kitt changed the display to the floor plans, which were also available online.

"Yes, that's right," Kitt approved, "We could be very comfortable there. There is more space than needed for me, the station housed two engines in its time, and has four roller doors. We could block the two leading onto the street off, and access it through the rear. We'd need to be creative in organising the living spaces, but I think we could make it work. There is a door into a foyer space that leads upstairs, but we could seal that off entirely."

"Leaving us with a lobby space and spaces we can rent out," Michael nodded, "Providing income for the cost of the insurance, taxes, maintenance and utilities. Anything clear of that is profit, which we reinvest. As long as we're careful we should at least break even."

"Indeed," Kitt agreed, "Do you want to contact the agent so we can examine it?"

The prospect of securing a place solely for themselves was oddly comforting. That Michael was open to the idea of a fully shared garage was even more cherished. Kitt knew that humans were big on privacy, which Michael didn't have a lot of. With his scanners, Kitt saw everything, and he was present and monitoring even when Michael was in the bathroom. It was rare that Michael spent the night in a bed anyway, as they often didn't have time to check into a hotel when in the middle of a case. It was more common that his Driver slept in the chassis.

Per Bonnie's demands about sex, Michael had established a privacy mode between them for the rare times he had a partner in his bed, and Kitt had respected that, if only because Michael's bed partner couldn't consent to being scanned by an AI, as they were not in the habit of revealing Kitt to them. Not that Michael had a lot of bed partner's over the last year. It was in fact very rare. Devon and Bonnie may think that Michael spent a lot of time with women in his bed, but it wasn't true.

Michael was using the car phone and making an appointment for that afternoon, which was exciting. Kitt began pulling information on similar mixed use properties from cyber space, looking for the sort of information that would help him advise Michael in their upcoming appointment. Michael hung up from his call and sighed, looking out at the water for a moment.

"I should probably go change into a suit or something," Michael gestured at his dishevelled clothes, "I dressed for exams this morning, not business."

"I don't want to return to the Foundation," Kitt said quietly. Michael did own a suit, but it was stored in the upstairs room reserved for him at the Foundation, "It's too soon."

"Ok," Michael nodded, thinking, "I've got a pay still in the bank, think you can find me a place that will sell something suitable to wear without costing a lot?"

Kitt started the chassis, already searching online.

0000

Michael had chosen to purchase navy blue slacks and a sports jacket, along with a business shirt and leather shoes rather than the sneakers he was already wearing. Kitt found an out of the way parking lot where Michael could change in the chassis with the windows blacked out, and approved the new outfit quietly.

"What's wrong, partner?" Michael asked, "If you hate the outfit that much…"

"Where will we stay tonight?" Kitt interrupted, nerves sharpening his voice. He really didn't want to return to the Foundation at all. Even if they did make a decision about purchasing a garage for themselves they wouldn't be able to sleep there tonight.

"The desert," Michael suggested, "That spot you like for star gazing, it's far enough from the road that no one will see us, let alone disturb us. I can sleep in the chassis."

It wouldn't be comfortable for Michael's recovery, but Kitt was too unsettled to protest. He would ensure there was adequate water in the car, and he thought he could adjust Michael's seat to support his recovering wound to some degree. In the middle of no where, with their doors locked and the chassis under Kitt's control, they would be completely secure and private, which was what Kitt needed most right now.

"If you are sure," Kitt let his relief show in his voice, "Thank you Michael."

The agent selling the fire station had opened one of the roller doors on the ground floor and pulled his car inside. Kitt rolled her inside as well, angling so the other man wasn't blocked in. There was space enough for six of him where the two engines had parked, which was good. He didn't want his driver to feel crowded. There was a double height row of lockers along the wall that backed onto the bathroom, and another that hid the kitchenette from the engines bay. Deploying his scanner, Kitt could see that the bathroom facilities were double stall, double sink and double shower. That could be altered as needed. The office sat with flimsy, non weight bearing walls between the kitchenette and the bathroom, with the door to the foyer located at the front of the building.

"There's hydrant's out the back, and they'd need to stay accessible," the agent was saying to Michael as they walked up the stairs to inspect the room that had been used as a dormitory. Kitt was pleased to see that Michael's vital signs didn't indicate significant discomfort as he climbed the stairs. There was a kitchen and another multi-stalled bathroom up there. The office floor also had bathrooms, though no showers. The building was sound, and Kitt's scanners couldn't pick up any infestations or structural weaknesses.

He monitored Michael through the comm link as the agent walked him through each floor, emphasising that the city wouldn't approve rezoning the building into apartments. This had been a stumbling block, apparently, as several developers had shown an interest only to drop out when it became clear that their plan to change the building over to solely residential use was not feasible.

"Does it matter what floor the residence is on?" Michael asked, which was clever. After all, most people would assume some sort of business would take over the ground floor and any residence would go on an upper floor.

"No, just that there is only one," the agent reiterated, "The kitchenette on each floor can remain, but only one floor can have a full kitchen."

It seemed the building had been on the market for just over a year, and Kitt started researching the mechanics of putting in an offer on a property that had been sitting on inventory for so long. His time trading stocks had taught him that in some things, the value was negotiable. Michael was very sensibly not making any mention of offers or seeming too eager, though Kitt could tell his Driver was engaged with the idea and that viewing the property had a positive effect on their plans.

The agent opened the rear doors and the private paved lot behind the building was viewed as well, with Kitt noting the location of the hydrants and the potential for limited tenant parking provided the door they intended to use for their garage space was kept clear.

"Well, thanks for your time," Michael shook the agent's hand, "I will need to speak to my partner of course, but we'll let you know."

The agent didn't seem too confident, despite Michael's tone, and Kitt let his Driver take them back onto the road, musing that the building would need some work on all three floors, and a contractor may be required. Kitt waited until they were well out of earshot, noticing that Michael was thinking as he drove.

"What do you think?" Kitt asked as they paused at a light.

"I like it," Michael nodded, "The lockers can be taken down and used for kitchen cabinets or other storage. We could have a workshop along the wall that backs onto the bathroom, and I could wire a recharging point into the building for you, it's rated for that sort of power use. I'd need a professional to get the bathroom redone and move plumbing for the kitchen, but we should be able to afford that. I can do the rest. If you don't mind me sleeping in your garage, we could take out the office walls and move the kitchen in there as well, then living space across the front of the bays, and your space at the rear. I think we'd fit in there well. The upstairs spaces need a good clean and repaint, but that's not much work. We rent them as is, and see where we go."

"Do you want to look at another building?" Kitt asked, although Michael's words showed his Driver was committed to their purchase of the space. Clearly Michael wanted them to live together there, which Kitt found comforting, "Is it usual to purchase the first place you look at?"

"My parents bought their house without looking at others, sometimes a place feels like home," Michael shrugged, "And we'd have to build a place custom to find the same size and set up."

"Very well," Kitt took over the driving and turned on the screen in his centre console, "I've been researching offers and the sort of negotiation involved in real estate…"

Michael turned to look at the screen, and Kitt once more cherished the trust and confidence Michael placed in him as they schemed together.

0000

Devon called them the next morning. Kitt had spent the night under the stars, with Michael changed back into his more comfortable clothes. Michael had eaten at a diner, and to make Kitt happy he'd chosen a meal with vegetables in it.

"Dr Barstowe has decided that she will return to college to work on another project," Devon said flatly, "We are in the process of appointing another head technician, Kitt, and I hope that we will be able to resolve this matter."

"I still want Michael present whenever I am with the technicians," Kitt said flatly. His scanners showed how shocked Michael was by the news. Kitt hadn't expected this to happen, though Bonnie had mentioned a few months ago she was considering an offer she'd had to return to school.

"Of course," Devon nodded. Michael remained silent, and Kitt realised his Driver was allowing him to take control of their conversation, and the situation as well.

"Very well, Devon. Thank you for telling us," Kitt said quietly, "We have been considering our housing arrangement. When we have finalised our plans, I'd like to discuss them with you."

Devon appeared startled, but nodded in reply and ended the call.

"So we need to put in the offer we discussed last night," Michael said after a moment, "And engage a solicitor, I guess."

"Also we need to begin researching contractors for the work we can't complete and finalise the floor plan of our living space. We need to source the tools and materials you'll need for the work you're planning to do as well, and suppliers that will deliver because I have no intention of hauling building supplies, even for this," Kitt agreed, "And locate an agent that will handle the leasing arrangements for our prospective tenants. A building superintendent may also be a good idea."

"Yeah, we have a lot to do. Kitt… will you be ok with a new head technician?" Michael asked, "I wasn't expecting her to leave like that."

"She mentioned she'd been invited to join a research project that would require her to gain further degrees several months ago," Kitt said, realising Michael hadn't known this, "I am sorry to see her go, but I don't believe I would be able to trust her again. Not… so soon after she attempted to force her way inside."

"It was an assault," Michael agreed, "And I know it's no excuse, but Bonnie has a bit of a blind spot when it comes to you, partner. She wouldn't have understood. Not really."

"I know," Kitt said sadly, "I just need some time. I will email her, Michael, if you think she'd ever want to hear from me again."

"Kitt, she will," Michael sounded certain, and Kitt experienced a feeling that could be considered hope.

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