0000

In the middle….

In the end, despite the arguments it caused with Devon, they won their independent living space. Michael installed the Kitt-designed grid of sensors and security arrangements before they had even begun the rest of their remodel, and Devon had to agree that their new garage was as secure as the Foundation's if not more so. Not that they had a lot of time there over the next four years. Devon kept them busy. Even Kitt's rebirth after the acid pit didn't see them slowing down much.

Bonnie, April and Devon all avoided their garage, which suited Kitt's stated need for privacy. This meant they never saw the framed bachelor certificates that Kitt had presented to Michael on his graduation day, which now hung on the wall. A masters and then a PhD in anthropology accompanied the original degrees, and Kitt was proud of the display of Michael's prowess, even if his partner did insist on not telling people about them.

Kitt had also discovered that Michael was more than capable of following a build diagram. Over the last three years, Michael had built several servers and a desktop computer system to Kitt's specifications, which had saved Kitt's memory when he'd fallen into the acid pit. He'd also built several versions of the comm link, and a portable computer that was well in advance of it's time, all to Kitt's designs and specifications. At Kitt's suggestion, he'd learnt to code, although he'd never be comfortable with the idea of building an AI or attempting to repair an issue within Kitt's 'brain' without significant support.

His Driver's relationship with Devon and Bonnie got better slowly, but it was with Kitt that Michael truly belonged, something they both felt strongly. In their garage, Michael slept on a Murphy bed mounted on the same wall as Kitt's charging station. If he wanted to, Kitt could roll the chassis close enough for Michael to touch without leaving the bed, though he'd never done that. The furniture in the garage was laid out to give Kitt the most access to the things that may be of interest. They watched sport together on the television, Kitt parked next to the couch, or played chess on Michael's physical set, with Michael sitting in an armchair behind a low table and Kitt parked where the unfolded bed would be.

They had added a thick layer of insulation to the high ceiling, the better to block noise from the tailor's who had taken the first floor open space for their workspace, and also to prevent anyone from hearing their own discussions. Once a year, Kitt would find another building in their local neighbourhood to buy, expanding their portfolio slowly.

Kitt had almost bought the beach house that Michael and Stevie had gone to as a wedding present. They hadn't returned to the garage, Michael had felt that the space was too strongly theirs and Kitt had not been properly introduced to Stevie yet. In the end he was glad he hadn't, as Stevie's death had devastated his Driver. Michael had clung even more tightly to Kitt in the aftermath, and Kitt was secretly glad that Stevie hadn't come to their garage. Having memories of her there would have been painful.

It was a sanctuary for them both after her death. Kitt's own feelings had been complicated and difficult to manage during that time. He'd resented and feared Stevie and her hold on his Driver, who seemed to be slipping away from him. Michael had been so badly hurt by her death, and Kitt so helpless to assist that he had even privately gone to Devon, who was the human closest to Michael, for advice. Devon's suggestion of time and quiet space had helped, but Kitt selfishly hoped that Michael never again came close to leaving Kitt for a human partner.

The first four years of their partnership were rewarding and difficult, and at times frightening, but Kitt wouldn't have traded them for any experience in the world. He continued to keep secret's from Bonnie, who still disapproved, but no longer objected. Michael continued to stay with him for even the simplest maintenance, though it was becoming rare that they needed to visit headquarters for it. Michael had devoted himself to learning how to care for the parts of the chassis that weren't 'pure car', and Kitt was grateful. The years after they decided to acquire their own garage were paying off and they were beginning to become truly independent.

0000

"I beg your pardon?" Kitt asked politely, and noted RC's poorly hidden smile. Michael didn't bother to hide his smile at all, knowing that Kitt's question was not as polite as he sounded. If it had been Michael, there would have been profanity involved: from the lack of it, it seemed Kitt's Driver had access to information that Kitt did not.

"Mr Perkins is on the board, Kitt, and the singer is from his home town," Michael added, as if that would help explain why Kitt would be working with RC, shadowing a country music band from concert to concert for the next few months.

"Devon, Michael and I are partners," Kitt ignored Michael's statement for a moment, "While the young lady's plight is indeed worth sympathy, I'm not certain why it merits separation from my Driver."

Because although Kitt would never say it aloud, Michael still wept in his sleep for Stevie, and there were times when his silence spoke of grief so sharp it could cut. Kitt had ensured that Michael and he spent as little time apart as possible, offering the kind of comfort that only he could: constant, uncomplicated companionship and love. Kitt could admit that he loved Michael, to himself. One day he may even admit it to Michael.

"Miss Casey's guitarist was badly beaten by person's unknown, while alone in the band's shared living space," Devon repeated the information, "She will need a replacement."

"I'm going to take his place for three months," Michael could clearly tell that Kitt didn't understand, "It will let us put someone in close to the performers. That way we can discover if he was beaten for something that he saw, or something that he did. The band is going on tour, and the police are investigating the beating, but he was targeted inside his home, not in a back alley or late at night. He's lost about a month of memory, apparently, so we have little to go on."

"So either he was being punished, or being silenced," Kitt mused, "And as it would seem odd for an empty car to follow the band around, RC will partner with me. We'll follow up on leads and information for Michael."

"Plus, I'll be required to ride on the bus with the band," Michael confirmed.

"You hate country music," Kitt reminded his Driver, his best smug tone apparent to all in the garage.

"I'll be fine," Michael rolled his eyes, "I don't have to like it, just play it."

"I hope your poker face has improved," Kitt sassed and Michael laughed, a sound that had become rare lately. Kitt was glad to hear it.

"I hope he can play guitar," RC added drily. Michael laughed even louder.

"I can," he confirmed, "Though I'll need the key to the lock up, Devon. I think my guitars are in there."

Michael had sung with Stevie on stage, supporting her act with everything he had. Kitt hadn't liked the music, but the footage he'd saved into his partitioned memory was a comfort now, watching the two of them together, so alive, so happy.

"Of course," Devon pulled it from his pocket, "I had anticipated the request."

"Wanna come with?" Michael asked as he accepted the key, and RC nodded, moving automatically to the passengers side, "Other side, RC. You're going to need to get used to that."

That last part was directed to Kitt though, Michael well aware that Kitt preferred that his Driver be the only human to sit there, even when maintenance was occurring. Although RC was in the driver's seat it was Kitt who took them out of the garage and around to what Michael referred to as a lock up. In reality it was a storage space, with double doors secured by a manual lock and code combination. Michael and RC got out, and Kitt directed his scanners, looking for the chips attached to Michael's inventory.

"There," Michael's organic sensors were quicker and he led RC in. RC came out carrying an amp, and Michael returned with two guitar cases, one acoustic, one electric.

"They're not overly fancy," Michael confessed, "And I'll need to practice, but they should do for the audition."

"You still need to audition?" Kitt asked, "Surely if they need your assistance…"

"It's the bands reputation on the line," Michael shrugged as he slid the cases carefully into the back seat while RC stowed the amp in the trunk and then went back to help lock up, "If they don't think I make the cut musically, I'll need to find another way to hang around. A roadie or something, maybe."

"Will you be able to retain the comm link?" Kitt worried as he started the chassis and headed back towards headquarters.

"I should be able to," Michael nodded, "And we'll have to get RC fitted for one as well."

"Bonnie should have a spare," RC mused, not trying to interrupt Kitt's control of the chassis at all, which Kitt appreciated. Michael may have chosen to give his place to RC for now, but that didn't mean Kitt was going to surrender his autonomy. Devon had long ago decreed that Kitt only drive in an emergency, but Michael had bypassed that foolish decision by staying in the driver's seat and not playing games or sleeping. He called it plausible deniability. Kitt had teasingly called him a cardboard cut out, and earned himself a swipe at the gull wing and a sulking Driver.

"We use different frequencies now," Kitt vetoed RC's suggestion of one of Bonnie's comm links, "They are more secure. We don't want to take the risk that they can be intercepted, and Bonnie hasn't attempted to update the frequency or counter measures in some time. We have spares at home, Michael."

"I need to get some strings and other supplies," Michael mused, "I'll take a taxi to get them, and then I'll meet you at home Kitt. RC you should pack a field kit, something you can take on the road for at least a month, and then Kitt will bring you over to pick up your comm link."

"Wait, I get to see your home?" RC sounded excited, "Are you sure, Michael?"

"You're welcome in our home, RC," Kitt agreed, though he was a little surprised that Michael would invite the other man when even Devon and Bonnie hadn't come. Perhaps it was because Michael was a mentor of sorts to RC, and because RC had always treated Kitt with respect. Perhaps it was because they had never had to fight to preserve their privacy from RC.

It took almost two hours to prepare RC for an extended field investigation. Not because he had difficulty packing, but because so many of the tools that Michael and Kitt used in the field together were not commonly issued to FLAG agents. Kitt hadn't realised that their innovations had deviated so far from Foundations standard tool kit. In the end, Kitt composed a list of things that they would need to ensure RC was familiar with, that Michael wouldn't be taking in his own luggage.

Kitt decided that they should collect a meal on the way to the garage, and RC suggested pizza. Michael's appetite had been low lately, but Kitt hadn't suggested pizza to him for a while, so he agreed and took RC to the pizzeria that was close to the garage and that he knew Michael preferred now and then.

"A fire house?" RC asked as they drove slowly past the facade. The now defunct but distinct roller doors with their transparent line of panels at the top of the doors had been blocked with planters at ground level that the building manager maintained. Kitt took them around the back, where the far door was also disabled and blocked with planters. The nearer door rolled up obediently as Kitt moved the chassis into their home. He coasted past the work benches that were set in the unused parking bay, with their custom made servers under them, and the custom desktop PC on top. The neat array of tools and components were as they had been left, and the entire living space was clean. Michael had been meticulous in his maintenance of their shared garage. Kitt was glad that his partner had the same sense of pride in their home that Kitt did.

"Oh wow," RC breathed, "Kitt, this is amazing."

"It was a mutually agreed upon design," Kitt said as Michael put the acoustic guitar back in its case. Kitt was disappointed they hadn't heard Michael play, but his Driver had requested privacy while he tuned the instruments, and Kitt hadn't eavesdropped.

"Welcome to our home," Michael smiled at RC, who climbed out of the chassis with the pizza boxes in hand, "Kitt, it's not normal for the guest to supply dinner."

"You paid for it Michael, I ordered it, and RC merely agreed to collect it," Kitt replied, "I trust that doesn't violate your rules for guests?"

Michael laughed again, and the humans went to the u shaped kitchen, located where the office had once been, sitting on the stools at the end of the counter, where Michael had arranged a sort of dining table set up. The counters were supported by some of the lockers that had been abandoned, set on a base that Michael had built to bring them to the right height, and the counter tops were stainless steel, sourced from a hotel kitchen that had been selling its old fittings during a refit. They were scratched and a bit dented in places, but Michael hadn't minded, and as Kitt didn't have use for them, he hadn't expressed an opinion. They'd used wooden counter tops for their workshop space though, to avoid accidental electrocution.

When the humans had finished eating they joined Kitt in the workshop, and Michael found a comm link for RC, the three of them agreeing that using one of the ear pieces would be the best, with Michael retaining his usual 'fancy' watch – in reality a knock off of a more expensive brand in the style of a divers watch, that they had gutted and refitted themselves. It was waterproof to ten metres and had a camera in it among other things. Michael insisted on walking RC through using a couple of their other tools, disguised as wearable items, to ensure he had a full field kit. RC promptly declared them cooler than James Bond, which Kitt at least took as a compliment. It was late when they were done and Kitt drove RC back to headquarters while Michael got in a last lot of practice before tomorrows audition.

0000

"I've set up a web cam in Devon's office," RC informed Kitt when he and Michael pulled up the next morning, "So we can see and hear what's going on."

"Thank you," Kitt was touched, though there were plenty of camera's, including the AV unit Devon called Michael on, that he could have accessed.

"Devon's in his office with Mr Perkins, and Miss Casey and her manager will be here soon," RC told Michael, who pulled both guitars out of the chassis carefully, "I'll bring the amp up for you, then Kitt and I should get out of sight. Better that they think you'll be going it alone."

"Will Mr Perkins be aware of us?" Kitt asked and Michael shook his head.

"I called Devon last night when I got home and suggested that we keep as much operational information away from him as possible," Michael advised, "I don't know Perkins well, and I won't risk your or RC's safety on an unknown variable like him."

"Got it," RC nodded, joining Michael with the amp, "And thanks, Michael, I appreciate it."

So did Kitt, but his Driver already knew that from the speed of his scanner.

"I'll meet you in the garage, RC," Kitt suggested and rolled the chassis away when his Driver followed his new partner inside. Kitt still wasn't sure how he felt about working with a new human while Michael was ostensibly out of reach. They'd had cases before where Michael had been under deep cover, as it was called, but never for more than a few days. This was potentially for three months, because even if they solved the case quickly, Perkins had committed to Michael's presence until the other musician had recovered.

RC was a good person, and he'd learned how to treat Kitt from Michael's own behaviour and tutelage, so Kitt wasn't worried about the personal aspect of things. It was more that they didn't have a lot of field experience together. Michael had reminded him that they had also needed time to get to know how each other worked. Kitt had resigned himself to the situation, taking Michael's counsel of patience and communication to heart.

Most of Kitt's technicians were waiting for him, along with Bonnie when he arrived. He found this to be vaguely ominous. He didn't have time to undergo an unnecessary check up, which couldn't occur unless Michael was there anyway, and would not tolerate Bonnie insisting he not monitor Michael's audition either. It turned out that he was not the only one curious about Michael's ability to play country music though, and Sarah and Tom had rigged the webcam output to a projector and speaker. The projector was aimed at the wall, and RC joined them in time to watch Michael bare his teeth at Mr Perkins back as the man pontificated about the standard of player needed to support Miss Casey. April snorted in amusement and Kitt muttered 'good grief man, stop talking' not quite under his breath. The people with him laughed in agreement.

Miss Casey was blonde, wore fringed leather and knee high boots, and was tall and slender. Her manager, Heath Porter, was loud and over bearing, and Kitt watched uneasily as Michael's blood pressure went up. Michael had preferred quiet people and surroundings over the last few months, and this new personality would be difficult to bear for him.

Devon stepped in, introducing Michael as the prospective guitarist and investigator, and Michael suffered to have his hand shaken by Porter, before retreating back to his guitars.

"You do understand we need a real player," Miss Casey said hesitantly, her voice a pleasant contralto with a faint twang, "I appreciate you volunteering to come and discover who hurt poor Johnny so badly, but I have to think of the band too. There's people's living tied up in us."

"Yes ma'am," Michael nodded, "And if you think I won't make the cut, then we'll find another place for me to fit in with you."

"Well, you'd best play something then," Porter folded his arms, "I'll be the judge."

"Typical man," Sarah muttered in disgust in the garage, "Like she wouldn't be able to tell."

"Shh," April said, "He's going to play!"

Kitt privately started recording, intently watching the image on the wall as Michael ducked under the strap, his calm facade matching the vitals that Kitt was monitoring. Music always had a profound effect on Michael's body, even the sort that Kitt despised so much. He didn't know what Michael was going to play, as his Driver hadn't divulged it, teasing Kitt that he'd have to be patient.

Michael took a moment to position himself just right and then took a slow breath. His fingers began to move and Kitt recognised the music at once. It was Vivaldi, Summer, third movement, rearranged for a guitar. The people around him listened silently, as Michael's fingers flew, plucking and strumming through the intricate, fast paced music, his face intent and yet calm. The piece was designed for a string section, but Michael had captured it perfectly, not missing a single key element as his fingers flew over the strut and the strings. When it ended he looked into the webcam, a glance that Kitt felt was directed solely at him. Vivaldi was one of Kitt's favourite composers after all.

The people around him were applauding, though Michael couldn't see them, and exclaiming at his skill. On the screen, even Devon looked amazed, though no one in the office applauded.

"He might be too good," Miss Casey said after a long moment, then laughed, bounding over to kiss Michael on the cheek, "That was Vivaldi, wasn't it?"

"My best friend has a weakness for it," Michael said on the screen, blushing at the kiss, and in the garage, Bonnie turned to look at Kitt. Kitt ignored the look, touched beyond words that Michael would learn a piece of music he professed to hate, just for him.

"Well sugar, that kind of fancy isn't needed with us, but if you can strum that well, you're in!" Miss Casey nodded, "Can you sing at all?"

"I can," Michael confessed, "But I don't know a lot of country songs, so … my … wife had a favourite or two, mostly because they were silly. If you don't mind me playing another artists song?"

"Go right ahead," Miss Casey grinned, "I pegged you as more rock and roll, myself."

Kitt was shocked that Michael would bring Stevie up in such a situation, and Tom crossed himself, kissing his fingers.

"Oh Michael," Sarah leaned on Kitt's side, "He's still hurting, isn't he Kitt?"

"Yes," Kitt said quietly, but fell silent as Michael adjusted his strap and then started up again, this time strumming in a more traditional fashion.

"Porcupine pie, Porcupine pie, Porcupine pie… vanilla soup… a double scoop please," Michael started, and Miss Cased joined in at once, mirth in her voice as she sung harmony. The words were nonsensical, and Kitt could see how the whimsy would have appealed to Stevie, especially if Michael was singing them. His voice was warm and easy, and while his expression was a little nostalgic, his vitals were steady.

The song came to it's nonsensical end, with Miss Casey clapping her hands in delight.

"You'll need to learn the catalogue," Porter announced, "But if you can read music, you can do that on the bus. Will the little missus mind you going on tour?"

"She passed away a few months ago," Michael said quietly, using the action of putting his guitar away to hide his face from them.

"Oh, Michael," Miss Casey threw her arms around him, "I'm so sorry."

Michael returned the hug uncomfortably, letting go quickly and stepping back, "I can go get my bags and leave with you, if that suits."

"Yes, that's fine," Porter nodded, "We'll wait out front for you. You won't need much, we'll supply the stage costumes."

"Let me take the cases. You won't need the amp," Miss Casey stooped, but Porter brushed her aside hastily, exclaiming about men's work.

"I have his bags," Kitt announced to the people around him, and they popped his trunk, pulling out the battered suitcase and knapsack that RC indicated and closing the trunk again. By the time the side door to the garage opened, the technicians had broken down the projector and speaker and were waiting to say goodbye.

Michael seemed surprised to see them, though he was grateful for their reassurances that they'd watch over Kitt for him. RC promised to do the same and then Michael squatted down in front of the scanner.

"I liked your audition piece," Kitt confessed quietly, and Michael smiled, tracing his fingers over the light bar for a moment.

"I thought you would," Michael replied, "I'll play the seasons for you one day, I promise. Take care of yourself and RC partner. I'm on the comm link."

"You too, Michael," Kitt replied, and watched his Driver take a deep breath and walk away, bags in hand.

0000

Michael was accepted by the band surprisingly quickly. Dave and Lola, the married couple who were the keyboardist and back up singer respectively, liked that he was quiet. Delia, wild child back up singer, liked that he was calm. Matt, drummer, liked his looks and liked it even more that Michael flirted back in a friendly, no pressure kind of way. Buddy, lead guitarist and big-man-in-charge, was the only one who didn't like Michael, and that was because Michael ignored his posturing and swagger. Michael was taller than him, and one good dark glower dissuaded Buddy from the single attempt he made to get physical.

Kitt and RC trailed the band bus discretely. Michael spent two of the three days of travel to the first concert on the back seat with sheet music a walk-man and his guitars, learning the chords and lyrics of the songs the band had already released, and the new song that was due to be played for the first time in concert. Day three was spent with the whole band singing together so Michael could get a sense for the way they sounded together, and RC, who was eavesdropping with Kitt, opined that they sounded good. RC had offered to take turns in the driving, to allow Kitt time to rest and focus on other things, which Kitt appreciated.

The roadies had gone ahead with the majority of the equipment, and Michael had already discussed with Kitt and RC the need for them to follow the roadies next time the band moved. He'd established with the band that he liked to run early in the morning, which gave him a chance to meet up with his partners discreetly, and also would allow him to disguise any early morning snooping he did. Until they saw the whole set up, it would be hard to tell what they were dealing with, if anything. For all they knew this Johnny had upset someone's husband, although Miss Casey seemed certain that wouldn't have been the case.

Watching the way Buddy strutted around her, always in her space, made Michael wary.

"They used to be an item," Matt said from where he was eating his lunch next to Michael, having clearly followed his line of sight, "She dumped him a year ago, but he still acts like he owns her."

"She's safe though. We keep a close eye on her. So did Johnny," Lola sighed, sipping her coffee.

"You think that maybe that's what got him hurt?" Michael asked. The people around him were shocked and pretty vehement in their denial, so he nodded acceptance of that and let the topic drop. Kitt and RC started looking into it though. Buddy seemed just the type: in love with his own talent and importance, and with enough money to hire someone to do his dirty work.

The idea of the tour was to spend three nights at each venue, playing one location a week. Kitt had secured, through the Foundation's resources, back stage passes for RC at every concert, though they were planning to be as discrete as possible. The first concert location was semi inside, in a converted sports stadium, and RC found Kitt a place where he could see the stage with his scanners.

Michael's vitals were disturbed, but in the emotional trouble, not physical trouble kind of way. Kitt didn't mention it to RC, who was planning to case the edges of the bands set up tonight and get the lay of the land. The crowd was quite excited, and there was a lot of fringes, tassels and sequins in their outfits, which Kitt thought was quite tacky. Michael may have preferred plaid and leather, but always the plainest he could find.

The crowd roared as the band came on stage and Kitt counted himself lucky that there was no one near by to hear him laugh. Michael had been dressed in tight blue jeans and a tight, bright pink shirt, with pearl buttons, white piping and fringing on the pockets, as well as sequins that made him glitter in the stage lights. He was a professional, there was no hint of dismay in his face at all, but Kitt could see his vitals were still a little disturbed. Kitt promptly saved an image to permanent storage. And sent a copy to April, Tom and Sarah, who would properly appreciate it.

Kitt turned part of his attention to RC, who was edging carefully around the sides of the crowd, checking out the speakers and light fittings in the concert. A security guard noticed and accosted him at one point, but RC's earnest 'I'm learning to be a stage hand' story, as well as compliments directed at said guard, got him out of trouble quickly enough. RC had dressed the part in blue plaid, jeans and cowboy boots, though he'd left off the fringes and sequins. Vague references to his girlfriend over in the crowd got him away from the security guard, and all in all Kitt thought it was a successful first foray.

Over the nights that followed, RC and Kitt confirmed that the rig around the crowd was standard for a concert of that size and space, and that security was tight. No one would be able to conceal in or remove anything from the rigs, which put them out of the running for smuggling any sort of contraband. RC was approached on the third night by a drug dealer, who Kitt reported to the local police.

"None of the band are users," Michael mused over the comm link, later that night, "I think a shot of whisky is the most I've ever seen them take, or the odd beer."

"Could be a coincidence," RC agreed, "But I think it's worth keeping in mind."

"I will check my online sources and see if there is any talk about drugs being sold or used at their concerts," Kitt added, "It would explain the viciousness of the attack."

"Someone's at the door," Michael sighed, "I'll talk to you again tomorrow. Good night."

Kitt heard him jostle the phone on the nightstand as if hanging up. Buddy was at the door, sneering at Michael to go to bed, as they had a long day tomorrow.

"I don't like that dude," RC frowned, preparing to get out of the chassis and go to his own room, "There is something off about him."

"Agreed," Kitt replied and watched his junior partner walk upstairs to his room. Michael's vital signs were slowing down towards sleep and Kitt settled in for a night of light surveillance. It was going to be a long case.

0000

Michael managed to get on the good side of the road crew by helping with the gear breakdowns after each gig. This gave him access to parts of the bands set up that would have normally been off limits to him. It also helped him pass names and layout information to RC and Kitt, who investigated and eliminated one at a time. There was some sort of drug connection going on, of that Kitt was sure, and RC backed him up. He'd been approached to both buy or sell drugs at each concert. The guy who approached RC to buy drugs from him turned out to be an undercover cop, who arrested Kitt's partner.

Devon had to step in to get RC released. Kitt hadn't understood why that was needed. Accustomed to asking Michael why people did the things they did, he didn't think twice about asking RC why the law enforcement officer had been so sure RC was a drug dealer and why he'd refused to listen until Devon stepped in.

"Because I'm young, and Black, ok!" RC had exploded as Kitt drove them out of town to catch up with the band. The tirade that followed was loud, eloquent, and completely alien to Kitt. Michael didn't seem to see colour when it came to dealing with people, though he was aware of culture and the respect needed to deal with that culture. That wasn't just his training though, and the degrees, it was just Michael. Michael met people not stereotypes.

"I apologise if I have offended you RC," Kitt said quietly when RC stopped speaking. He hadn't meant to further the lack of respect RC had just suffered with his question. Racism was an alien term, and Kitt decided he didn't like it.

"You didn't know," RC sighed, "Michael isn't like that, so you wouldn't have a lot of experience with it I guess. None of that was aimed at you."

"I still have so much to learn," Kitt admitted, "There are times when I feel as if I have turbo boosted into a reinforced steel wall. Michael says that understanding brings respect, and I have found that to be true, but sometimes I don't know enough to know when I need to learn something new."

"And it doesn't help that he's not here," RC sympathised, "You two haven't been apart this long since you started working together."

"I do miss him, RC. But I am glad to have you with me. You are a good partner," Kitt reassured the man, "And I know that Michael worries about me less knowing you are here too."

"Thanks," RC smiled, "It means a lot to me that you two trust me the way you do. The Field Ops group have a lot of respect for you guys, and it was a feather in my cap that I'm the one that got tapped to sit in the left hand seat."

Kitt hadn't been aware of their reputation among the non-Driver's in Field Ops group, human operatives who worked solely with human partners. They took the missions that didn't require Kitt and Michael's expertise, and sometimes referred missions their way. It was good to know that he and Michael were well thought of among the people most likely to come and back them up.

0000

On one of his early morning run's Michael reported an oddity he'd noticed in the stage set up for Kitt and RC to further investigate.

"It's called the devil's amp," Michael shook his head, sitting on the hood comfortably, "Its got red tape wrapped around the handle, and according to the roadies every time you hook it up it blows the whole rig."

"Why are they carrying broken gear, then?" RC frowned.

"Why haven't they just fixed it?" Kitt added. Michael grinned at Kitt's indignant tone: his partner found deliberately failing to fix flawed equipment a personal affront.

"Well there's two schools of thought on it," Michael confirmed, "One is that the amp is a personal item, so its not up to the band to fix it, but who it belongs to is unclear. The other is that they keep one glitched item around so that none of the bigger, important stuff glitches instead. The amp is always off to the side of the stage, and they don't even run cables to it."

"Superstition," Kitt mused, "A good way to hide something deeper, maybe. No one is going to interfere with superstition, or at least that is what you've always told me Michael."

"It is the kind of taboo that people try not to mess with," Michael agreed, "Thing is, sometimes the electrical tape on the handle is wound left to right, and sometimes it's wound right to left."

"Duplicate amps, which can be swapped out when things are really busy," RC grinned, "Clever."

"Do we have tracking devices that we can use to trace the amps?" Michael asked, and Kitt started inventorying the trunk's contents, "I'm sure we packed that kit in the trunk."

"We did," Kitt confirmed. Michael got up and walked back with RC, locating the bag and the trackers.

"These are smaller than the ones Bonnie showed me," RC mused, looking into the case, and Michael laughed.

"Kitt designed them and I built them," he admitted, "We've gotten into the habit of building our own gear to suit our needs. Kitt, do we have any doohickey's?"

RC laughed. Michael's eyes lit up with mischief, clearly teasing his partner with his word choice.

"Good grief," Kitt sighed, "No we don't have any remote port access devices with us. If we need one, we'll have to build it."

"I like doohickey better," Michael confessed to RC, "R-PAD is boring."

"It's not boring, it's accurate," Kitt riposted as the trunk was closed. Michael stowed the trackers in his running shorts and then slapped RC on the shoulder.

"I'll get one of these onto the devil's amp tonight if I can," he told them, "Kitt, I'll ping the comm link when it's been placed so you can track it."

"Very well," Kitt agreed, his tone a little sad, "Enjoy the remainder of your run, Michael. We'll speak to you later."

"If we get any movement, I want you to hang back a bit. I don't want you to get too close until both the amps are tagged and we can track where they go," Michael looked over at RC, "I'd rather take a bit longer than risk either of you."

"Got it," RC nodded, "I won't risk either of us, I promise."

"I'll keep a close eye on RC, Michael," Kitt added, "I'm more concerned about you. You are isolated in a way that we aren't."

"I'll play safe, partner," Michael patted the chassis lightly, "I'll see you both later, ok?"

"And eat more, Michael. You're losing weight," Kitt added as Michael broke into an easy lope. Michael threw a wave over his shoulder but didn't otherwise respond.

"He doesn't seem too bad," RC opened the drivers side door, "A bit lonely maybe."

"Only Michael could be alone in the middle of a crowd," Kitt sighed, "The band are friendly, but they're not aware that he tends to eat less when his mood is low. After the last few months, I'd be very surprised if his mood wasn't low."

"You're also not used to working with other people for long stretches," RC patted the gull wing, "Kitt, if you want to go see him, without me sometime, that's ok. I can hunker down for a night somewhere so you two can catch up."

"… thank you, RC," Kitt was grateful for the consideration, "We will take that option if we need to. Please don't tell Devon or Bonnie about this. They would doubt Michael's fitness to be in the field."

"I won't," RC agreed, "I don't think he's unfit. Just… tired a bit."

"Indeed," Kitt murmured, "And yet, if you took the work away from him, things would be immeasurably worse."

"Well, we won't let that happen: even when he's feeling low, I still don't think I could take him," RC said firmly, and Kitt could only believe that he meant it.

0000

The devil's amp, as they were now calling it, travelled very quickly. Kitt and RC spent three weeks mostly out of Michael's range, following it as it went back and forth. With the help of several of the Field Ops group, they waylaid the amp long enough to confirm that there were drugs in it, and the FOG team stayed on the part of the pipeline that wasn't near to the band, cycling through teams to avoid being recognised. RC had managed to swab the outside of it, and Kitt's analysis had analysed the drugs in there, which turned out to be mostly methamphetamine.

Michael in the meantime, had been working the routines of the roadies. He was certain one of them was working with the drug gang, and that there was a second person organising the timing of the pick ups and delivery. He'd identified a couple of likely targets, and they were going to need to start tracking the financial trails of each of them.

He was also encountering increasing difficulty with Buddy. When the physical intimidation hadn't worked, Buddy had swapped over to verbal taunts, which Michael had ignored for the most part. In their second week of working together, Lola had mentioned that they were near family, and she was in two minds about making a side trip to visit as they weren't emotionally close. Lola had trained at a prestigious musical school, graduated and then married Dave and gone into country music, which her family disapproved of.

Michael had suggested meeting half way for a meal, to get out of the 'under my roof' speech Lola had been dreading, and Buddy had butted in about how some people had family they wanted to see, not everyone could leave their spouses and family behind willy-nilly.

"My wife passed away a few months ago," Michael had said quietly, and there was clear warning in his tone that Kitt recognised over the comm link and Buddy did not.

"Was it murder?" Buddy had sneered back. Kitt couldn't see Michael's face, but it was clear from the gasps of the people around him that he had flinched.

"Oh honey!" Lola consoled, her own woes clearly forgotten, "What all happened?"

"She was killed by a man with a grudge against me, just after we said our vows," Michael said quietly. Kitt's CPU overclocked a little at the heartbreak in his Driver's tone. He wasn't sure the people with Michael would recognise that though, as Michael preferred to hide his pain. Kitt always knew, but that was after years and years together.

"That's the makings of a country song," Buddy had scoffed and Kitt had registered a sharp sound, flesh impacting on flesh. Overlapping voices spoke over each other, but before Kitt could decide to separate them out there was a shrill whistle and silence fell.

"Michael's pain is not a song," Miss Casey said firmly, "You keep a civil tongue in your head Buddy Jackson, or I'll be slapping you a lot harder than Delia did."

Talk had turned to other things, but Buddy had not forgotten, nor did he allow Michael to. The verbal abuse had gotten worse over the first month, though never in front of a band member, if only because the other men on the band had also threatened Buddy with worse than a slap.

At the mid way point of the tour, Kitt and RC caught up with the band, tracing yet another route for the 'devil's amp' and its contents. RC was going to hide in a spot identified by Michael as overlooked, so he could photograph the amp and the people walking past it, while Kitt patrolled around the outside of the venue, looking for traffic leaving early or arriving late, on the theory that anyone driving at those times was not there for the concert. Given that the roads had been set up with special measures to deal with concert goers traffic, RC and Kitt both felt it was a good bet to check out the licence plates of any vehicles they came across.

Just before the first number started, Buddy announced to the screaming crowd that a new song would be played at the end of their last set, to the surprise of the band. Michael certainly hadn't heard about it, as he was in the habit of sharing the bands news and routines with Kitt and RC in order to help them identify anything unusual from normal (or at least normal for a band on tour) behaviours.

Hours later, the band finished the last set and came off the stage, clustering around Buddy and demanding to know what was going on. Kitt would have bet the human was smirking, enjoying the attention.

"I gave y'all the sheets last night," Buddy drawled, "You did your homework right?"

"You didn't give them to me," Michael stated, "But I guess that was on purpose. What's the song, Buddy?"

"Stevie," Buddy said and Kitt nearly went through a crash barrier in shock at hearing the name of Michael's bride. Michael had never mentioned her name to the band, so they shouldn't have known it. If Buddy had discovered Stevie's name, then it was also possible he knew that Michael wasn't who he was pretending to be.

"That's my wife's name," Michael sounded like he was speaking through gritted teeth. The crowd was getting loud, a chant of 'new song, new song' starting up. RC muttered to Kitt that the crowd was pretty restless, and Kitt acknowledged quietly, not sure how to explain what was going on. He never linked Michael and RC's comm links unless RC was in the chassis and therefore not exposed to danger. The young man's perch was safe enough for surveillance as long as he maintained a degree of situational awareness. As much as Kitt wanted to ask RC for advice, he didn't want to interrupt or endanger the young man either.

"You folks need to get out there," the stage manager interrupted.

"Here, Michael, this is what he gave us," Lola said and the comm link picked up a faint sound of paper rustling. Sheet music, if Kitt had to guess.

"Where did you get this?" Michael's voice was stunned, as if he'd been punched in the chest, "This is the song I wrote for my Stevie."

"You son of a bitch," Delia snarled and there was the sound of a man in serious pain hitting the ground. From the faint gasp of 'my balls', Kitt was able to work out that she'd kneed the lead guitarist in the genitalia. The part of Kitt that was solely concerned with his Driver was grateful there had been someone there to do it.

"They've been promised a new song, and we don't have anything else close to ready," Miss Casey sounded panicked, "Michael…"

"It's ok," Michael said numbly. As always, his ability to put aside his feelings long enough to get the job done was impressive, "We can't not deliver, not now that they're expecting to hear something new."

"You should sing it, honey," Lola said softly, "We'll back you. The first time we play her song, it should be sung by the man who loved her best."

"Miss Casey…" Michael protested, but Miss Casey interrupted him, telling him she agreed.

"Heath, get that piece of garbage off my back stage," Miss Casey ordered, and Kitt could hear people moving, the chant of the crowd growing louder. He fretted over Michael's vital signs, reading the sort of stress in them that he hadn't seen since Michael had been beating Stevie's killer to death and Kitt had stopped him.

Michael waited until the crowd fell quiet enough for him to be heard without raising his voice. The tone when he next spoke was threaded with old unhealed pain, "I wrote this song for my wife."

The opening chords were simple, and then Michael began to sing, the words fitting Stevie so beautifully that Kitt could only marvel he'd held them back for so long, "Never be so kind, you forget to be clever… Never be so clever, you forget to be kind. And if I didn't know better... I'd think you were talking to me now… If I didn't know better, I'd think you were still around," the pain in Michael's voice spurred Kitt to turn back from his loop, his processor spinning at the haunting tune his Driver was playing.

"What died didn't stay dead, what died didn't stay dead, you're alive, you're alive in my head. What died didn't stay dead, what died didn't stay dead, you're alive, you're alive, so alive...Never be so polite, you forget your power… Never wield such power, you forget to be polite… And if I didn't know better, I'd think you were listening to me now. If I didn't know better… I'd think you were still around. What died didn't stay dead, what died didn't stay dead, you're alive, you're alive in my head. What died didn't stay dead, what died didn't stay dead, you're alive, you're alive, so alive… The autumn chill that wakes me up. You loved the amber skies so much. Long limbs and frozen swims, you'd always go past where our feet could touch. And I complained the whole way there, the car ride back and up the stairs… I should've asked you questions… I should've asked you how to live...Asked you to write it down for me. Should've kept every grocery store receipt 'cause every scrap of you would be taken from me. Watched as you signed your name Stevie, all your closets of backlogged dreams and now you left them all to me."

Kitt received a signal from RC, his voice choked with emotion, telling Kitt to head for the hotel, because Michael was going to need him. The AI abandoned his sweep at once, turning to ensure he met his partner, even as the tribute continued. He searched for and tapped into the cameras being used to film the concert, watching his partner sing his pain. Michael's face showed the love he still felt for Stevie, and how much she was missed, a look that he'd only ever shown to Kitt the few times he'd been able to talk to his partner about her.

"What died didn't stay dead, what died didn't stay dead, you're alive, you're alive in my head. What died didn't stay dead, what died didn't stay dead, you're alive, you're alive, so alive… And if I didn't know better, I'd think you were singing to me now… If I didn't know better, I'd think you were still around. I know better… But I still feel you all around… I know better, but you're still around," Michael's voice was so quiet now, the ringing silence from the crowd so unlike their usual reaction to the band's songs. Kitt didn't think it was because the song was new either. Kitt watched Michael put the guitar down and simply walk off the stage, Miss Casey and Lola throwing an arm around him and Delia and Dave crowding behind them, with Matt leading the way.

The crowd remained silent for a moment, and then began to first say, then call a name, "Stevie, Stevie…"

Michael's vitals spiked and Matt swore. Heath Porter's voice sounded over the active comm link, directing someone to help him carry Kitt's Driver to the bus. Kitt had darkened his windows for the patrol, and was glad that Michael would be able to slip into his chassis in privacy.

It seemed to take forever for the team bus to arrive at the hotel and the band members looked worried to Kitt, who had pulled up with his driver's door facing where the bus door would be. Porter got out first, turning to brace Michael as Matt steadied the man from behind. Michael was almost transparent with shock, and Kitt opened the drivers door. The band had been discussing spending the night in turns with Michael, thinking he shouldn't be left alone, but Kitt knew what his Driver needed.

"Michael, come to me," he called and Michael pulled away from the band, stumbling into the chassis. Kitt sealed it up and rolled her away into the night, his Driver curled into his seat, grief that had been suppressed for so long finally being let free.

0000

RC let Kitt know that he was safely out of the venue with the camera and that he'd make his way back to the hotel they'd engaged for the three nights they were going to be in town. Kitt acknowledged, grateful that RC was considerate enough to reassure him while Michael was in such a state. RC signalled again when he was safely in the room and Kitt wished him goodnight, before turning his attention back to Michael.

The chassis was still moving, driving in steady loops around the city and highways surrounding it. Michael had fallen silent finally, his breathing slowly returning to normal. He uncurled and put a hand on the vocaliser, rubbing his thumb along the edge.

"She would love that song, Michael," Kitt spoke for the first time since Michael had gotten in, "It was a beautiful tribute."

Tears fell, but the storm of grief had passed. These were just the trailing squalls. Michael smiled, looking at the camera Kitt preferred to use with him.

"I wasn't ever going to play it to the band," he admitted, "But I'd have played it to you when this was over partner."

"I know," Kitt said gently, smoothly changing lanes to avoid a slow moving vehicle, "I'm glad you wrote it. I've been so worried about my Driver."

"I'm sorry, buddy," Michael wiped his face, "I… didn't know how to say what I was feeling. The whole band write songs on the bus, and I started doing that to just fit in. But it… turned into something else. While you and RC were away I thought someone had touched my stuff on the bus a few times, but there was nothing for them to find about what I'm really doing, so I didn't say anything."

"Clearly that man was trying to steal your work," Kitt fumed, slowing to take the off ramp and loop back towards the city, "If my secondary function wasn't preservation of human life, I'd run over his foot. Twice."

Michael laughed, relaxing into the seat, shifting so he was sitting properly. Kitt removed the tint from the windows and windscreen to allow Michael to see out, knowing his Driver preferred to do so when awake and the chassis was in movement.

"Don't tell Bonnie you said that, she'll want to inspect you again," Michael wagged a finger at the vocaliser, "But I would do it for you, if you like."

"We shouldn't, Michael. It wouldn't be very professional," Kitt said reluctantly, and Michael nodded, reaching out to stroke the gull wing.

"Where's RC?" Kitt's Driver asked, his mind clearly going back to the case. Kitt regretted it. Michael needed some peaceful time, something they just didn't get a lot of.

"Currently in bed, asleep," Kitt replied, "I have him, he's safe."

"Good," Michael sighed, "I… would you mind if I stayed with you? I know you've got a lot of analysis to do..."

"I'm going to pull over up ahead," Kitt replied, "And start the analysis while you sleep."

"Thanks," Michael plucked at the shirt he was wearing, sweaty from the concert, and grimaced at it uncomfortably. It was baby duck yellow, with the usual fringe, piping and sequins. Kitt thought it an extremely gaudy example of Michael's usual stage costume, well aware his Driver disliked what he had to wear.

"I think that colour is the worst yet, Michael," Kitt teased lightly, slowing down and pulling onto the service road he'd identified. He drove along it until they were out of sight of the road and then parked while Michael grumbled at him crankily. His outpouring of emotion on top of hours of playing music on stage had finally exhausted him.

"Go to sleep," Kitt told him in lieu of replying to the grumbles, "We'll need to be up early I'm afraid, if you're to rejoin the band. Or would you prefer to pull out? I'm sure we could make Devon understand."

"I'm not giving that ass-hat Buddy a victory," Michael scowled, "So no, but thanks pal. We're going to finish this mission."

There was strength in his voice, and an energy Kitt hadn't heard in months, so whatever it was that Buddy had tried to do tonight, it had the opposite effect. Revenge may well be deemed a dish best served cold, but Kitt preferred to succeed to spite their opponents, something that Michael shared with him.

0000

RC had uploaded the pictures from his digital camera to the Kitt-designed, and Michael-built laptop before going to bed, and Kitt added those pictures to his analysis. Although he would have preferred Michael's return to Kitt's care and protection to have been under better circumstances, Kitt found his hours of analysis while Michael slept under his watch to be very enjoyable. This led them to identifying their two best targets. Devon attempted to establish a paper and money trail on them, with Kitt and RC eventually having to peel off in an attempt to access the bank records directly.

The bank stopped them, not because their security was so tight, or because RC and Kitt were identified as a threat, but due to poorly installed technology. Kitt would require a field upgrade, and resources were dispatched to attend to it with due haste.

"Their network is a disgrace!" Kitt ranted as RC drove them back to rendezvous with Michael and the home office, "There is no way for me to access the system without tripping an alarm, because the signal keeps dropping out, and instead of fixing things so that doesn't happen their IT department has set up a trigger to tell them to come and restart their routers!"

RC remained silent in the driver's seat, unsure what he could possibly say that wouldn't garner another angry rant from Kitt, or trigger a bout of the legendary silent treatment.

"Wow partner," Michael's voice sounded in the chassis from where Kitt had patched in his comm link via the car phone, his voice calm and serious, "You'd think a bank would be more concerned about their network security than that."

"Exactly!" Kitt exclaimed, "As it is, we're going to have to meet up with the home office to boost my signal and scanner range, and you'll have to build me a doohickey!"

RC very carefully did not smile or laugh at Kitt using Michael's preferred term for their remote port access device. Michael had been doing an excellent job of defusing Kitt's temper and RC didn't want to undo all that hard work.

"An R-PAD?" Michael didn't bother to keep the teasing tone from his voice. Kitt actually scoffed and RC let the grin break through. These two had such a unique partnership, "Sure, I can do that pal. When will you, RC and the home office be here?"

"We'll arrive late on the Friday night, Michael," RC replied, "We can pick you up from the hotel after the concert. The band is staying in town for another week, right?"

"Yeah," Michael replied absently, "We all have a break until Monday morning, then into the studio for a recording session until Tuesday, and concerts again Wednesday to Friday."

"Then you can spend the weekend with us?" Kitt asked hopefully, "We can't do anything with the R-PAD until Monday at the earliest."

"I can," Michael confirmed, "I've already told the band that I'll be visiting friends in the area, so they won't be expecting to see me. They're mostly scattering for a break too. I'm looking forward to it."

"What are you doing in the studio, Michael?" RC asked, wanting to prolong the conversation. They didn't get a chance to speak to each other often, and Michael had holed up in his room for this status update, backing out of a band dinner, claiming fatigue.

"They… someone sent a bootleg copy of Stevie's song to the radio stations," Michael sighed, "They want to lay down a studio version of it. The girls sung it at the last three concerts. I don't regret singing it that first time, but I don't think I could lead it every night."

"It's not right that you had no choice the first time," RC scowled, and Michael hummed in agreement. He sounded a lot better than he had in a long time though, the usual warm life back in his voice.

"On the plus side, it was the straw that broke the camel's back. Buddy was fired from the band, and they're a lot happier without him," Michael snorted, "Though it would be hard to be sadder."

"Karma," RC nodded, "She'll get ya every time."

"I'm pretty sure someone is writing a song about it," Michael laughed, and there was a noise in the background, "That's Matt at the door. I'll talk to you again tomorrow. Don't let him crash the car, RC."

Michael signed off as Kitt scolded his missing Driver, and RC laughed, relieved they'd had the chance to be sociable for a moment. It was odd to think of an AI missing anyone, but Kitt was a person, and people missed their family. Especially family as close as Michael and Kitt.

RC was still driving when they arrived to pick Michael up late that Friday evening. Michael had showered and changed after the concert and waved to several of the band members as he stowed his bag in the back seat and slid into the passenger side. No one had commented on the car that had picked Michael up after Stevie's song had been sung that first time, and Kitt was grateful. As soon as they were out of sight of the hotel, RC pulled over.

"Swap," he informed Michael, "It feels wrong to have you sitting there."

Michael exchanged a high five with RC as they passed each other at the trunk and slid into his usual seat with a sigh.

"The team have taken rooms here, Michael," Kitt put the directions on the screen, "The home office will arrive tomorrow."

"My rooms a double, if you want to share," RC offered, though he'd have been very surprised if Michael had accepted. He had a feeling that Kitt and Michael wouldn't be out of each others reach for most of the weekend if they had any sort of choice. Not that he minded. He'd still be welcomed by them both, RC was secure in that knowledge. Kitt and Michael were not in the habit of excluding people, and certainly not those they worked closely with.

"Thanks, but Kitt and I have a chess game pending tonight," Michael replied, "I'll see you in the morning for breakfast though."

"I'm planning to run first, you wanna come?" RC offered, and they made their plans, Michael slouched comfortably behind the wheel where he belonged.

0000

The home office had been delayed overnight, due to a flat, so Michael suggested they meet it en route. RC insisted that Michael drive and Kitt backed him up, wanting to see his Driver back in his proper place.

"I am going to miss driving long distances with you Kitt," RC mentioned as they skimmed the highway, "The semi has an auto drive function, but it can't talk."

"It can," Kitt corrected, his voice rather chilled, "But it's vocaliser was disabled at the other driver's requests. Not everyone is suited to working with a vehicle that can criticise your driving."

"That's… like torture!" RC was incensed, "Isn't there something we can do?"

"I can show you how to reconnect it's vocaliser," Kitt said, while Michael stroked the gull wing with a thumb, frowning in distress, "I don't know if it will speak to you though."

"Yes please," RC nodded, "It should have the chance to communicate with us, if it wants too."

"Just don't be surprised if it doesn't," Michael sighed, "After being muted for so long, it may feel more comfortable not interacting with its Driver's."

Kitt printed out the instructions and diagrams RC would need and watched the young man read them over carefully before tucking them away. He was pleased that the young man would take such a positive interest in the semi that he drove when not working in the field. Michael had been concerned about the AI that drove the semi, though it was not as advanced as Kitt. He'd been unable to persuade Bonnie that it needed its voice back: she'd been very dismissive of his concerns, not seeing it as 'any of his business'. Michael had been pale with anger after that exchange.

They passed the semi going the other way and Michael swung her into an easy controlled spin, neither man so much as blinking at the manoeuvre as Kitt remotely lowered the ramp. She slid into her spot at the end of the semi as lightly as always and Kitt raised the ramp once more while Michael shut off the engine and patted the wheel with satisfaction. April and Bonnie had been sitting at the work stations and both got up as Michael and RC exited the chassis.

"RC! I've missed you!" April cheered, throwing her arms around the younger man. Michael shot Kitt an amused look, before pouting playfully at Kitt's other senior technician.

"You haven't missed me?" he asked in mock hurt and April giggled, blowing him a kiss, one arm still around RC's neck. Michael caught the kiss and pressed it to his heart, laughing at her.

"It's good to see you Kitt," Bonnie smiled at him, "And for once not because the nut behind the wheel has damaged you in the field."

Kitt was sure she didn't notice Michael's slight flinch, or the frown that April aimed her way. RC had never really encountered Bonnie's not-quite-joking barbs before, and he was certainly not familiar with her old nickname for Michael. As he'd been the one behind the wheel for the majority of this mission, his misunderstanding of her words was understandable.

"Hey! I'm not a nut!" RC protested. Bonnie looked startled and then flustered.

"She means me, pal," Michael interrupted, his tone a good facsimile of amused, though Kitt knew he wasn't, "Now, ladies, an important question, how long will the scanner adjustment take?"

"Why? Hot date?" Bonnie smiled, and Kitt flared his scanner at her in frustration. She flicked a worried glance at him. Michael had treated Kitt with more consideration after a single request. Bonnie still hadn't learned to treat his Driver with the courtesy he deserved after Kitt had asked her to years ago.

"No, if it will take more than a couple of hours, I'll build the tech Kitt wants and then take you both to lunch, and we can work on the scanner after that. If it's only a couple of hours, we do that before lunch." Michael's voice was even, and Bonnie looked apologetic. It was a pattern of behaviour that was ingrained, but that made it no less hurtful to Kitt's Driver.

"Ooh, I've been dying for some good ribs," April cooed, obviously wanting to dispel the sudden tension, "D'you know a place, Michael?"

"I do," he agreed, "It was recommended to me by multiple people, so we're likely to eat well."

"It shouldn't take more than two hours to complete the work," Bonnie said, "Lunch would be lovely, thank you Michael."

She was always polite after she'd realised she'd crossed a line and Michael was always gracious about it, which Kitt was beginning to think was the problem. Kitt was glad he'd partitioned his memory off from her years ago, lest she realise how low his tolerance for her behaviour was becoming. Michael grinned and reached back into the chassis, releasing the hood and propping it open carefully, ensuring the safeties that they used when the semi was in motion were properly connected. Kitt was about to remind him, when Michael grabbed the milk crate that was used to store the car washing utensil's in it, stowing them on the now empty spot in the shelf and coming back to settle beside the left front fender on the now upside down crate, his arms folded on the edge of the engine bay to watch.

RC informed them he was going to make coffee and April started laying out the components they were going to swap out from Kitt's chassis in order to enhance his wireless scanning abilities. Between this upgrade and the 'doohickey', Kitt would be able to get into the bank's systems easily.

"I'm surprised you didn't come in here all country boy," Bonnie said lightly as she started removing several minor components in order to get to the ones she needed. With the hood up, Kitt couldn't see Michael's initial reaction, but he clearly heard April tut in disapproval. He accessed the camera in the back of the semi, the better able to see the people in front of him without relying on a scanner that was about to be deactivated for upgrades.

"Well boy howdy, I sure do hate to disappoint a little lady, now y'all," Michael drawled in the thickest southern accent he could. It was atrocious, and would likely get him punched if he tried it in front of anyone from the actual South.

"Michael," Kitt said quietly.

"Yes Kitt?" the tone was mischievous. Michael shot a look at the back of the trailer, and Kitt wondered how his Driver knew Kitt was accessing the camera there. He always knew where Kitt's glance was coming from.

"If you ever do that again I will disown you and change the locks," Kitt informed him flatly. Michael laughed and knocked his knuckles on the side panel he was leaning against.

"Understood," Michael replied, "I won't be doing that again."

"Thank you, Michael," Kitt purred. Bonnie reached back into the compartment and Kitt yelped in surprise when her touch caused a shock. In a heartbeat Michael was up, pulling her away and getting between her and the engine bay, one hand stretching towards Kitt.

"I'm sorry! It was an accident!" Bonnie was exclaiming as RC hurried out from the kitchen unit and April dashed to Kitt's open hood. She didn't try to reach inside, just peered into the space while Michael let go of Bonnie, glaring at her.

"You ok, partner?" Michael hurried to crouch in front of Kitt, checking inside the engine bay for visible damage.

"I am unharmed, Michael. It was a brief shock," Kitt replied, "I would prefer it if it didn't happen again."

"You and me both," RC said from where he was now crouched where Michael had been sitting. Bonnie folded her arms defensively, though no one was actively blaming her for the accident.

"I see the problem," April announced, "The wiring harness is tangled. Right there."

She pointed, first showing Michael that her hands were empty and that she wasn't about to dive into Kitt's engine. Everyone knew how protective Kitt's partner was of him, especially during maintenance.

"Dammit, was that me, partner?" Michael panicked. He'd done some wiring work for Kitt for one of their modifications only last year. They'd been needed in the field and they hadn't had time for the home office to be deployed. Plus, Kitt hadn't been sure that Bonnie would let them add the modification he'd wanted. It had given him the ability to record and store data in a way that was atypical to his specs. She had yet to discover it.

"No, you haven't touched that circuit, Michael. This isn't on you," Kitt hurried to reassure him.

"Kitt, if you shut down circuit zeta four, I can unhook this without you getting any more shocks," April straightened and moved to peer into the chassis, knowing that Kitt preferred this when being spoken to with the hood up, "We'll need to rewire the harness properly anyway, and if we raise your front end, I can work on the wiring to get it done more quickly while Bonnie and Michael look into the enhancements from below."

"I think I'd prefer Michael to work on the wiring," Kitt confessed, "I'll be unable to scan while you do the enhancements, but they are just a matter of swapping parts out."

This was a not so subtle way of telling Bonnie he still didn't quite trust her. From the look on her face, she hadn't expected that. It was also his way of saying that Michael's ability to work on him was in advance of the expected skill set.

"I'll pass tools to April, if you like," RC volunteered, "I mean, if that is ok."

It also meant that Kitt's second partner would be watching the scanner work. Kitt appreciated the sentiment, even if RC wouldn't be able to fully understand the things April was doing. It made him feel protected, something that he usually only associated with Michael.

"Sounds good to me, I love it when a man gets down and dirty with me," April purred. Her comment garnered a laugh, and the humans split up to collect tools and parts, while Michael moved to the driver's side and stuck his head into the chassis for a moment, reaching in to put a hand on the gull wing.

"You sure you're ok? She really wasn't trying to pull anything," Michael murmured. He looked worried and Kitt made a note to speak to him when they were next properly alone. They were both sensitive to Bonnie's missteps.

"I know," Kitt sighed, "But I don't like the way she speaks to you, and this repair is well within your abilities. If I insist you do the work, maybe she'll have more respect for you."

"Always looking out for me, huh partner," Michael patted the gull wing.

"It's what family do," Kitt replied and saved a picture of that smile to permanent storage. He liked it when Michael looked at him that way.

0000

"All done," Michael announced quite some time later, "Don't reactivate it yet though, I want it checked first."

Bonnie stood up from where she'd been sitting on Michael's milk crate and leaned over to look, keeping her hands on the side of the engine bay. She'd watched Michael silently as he'd spread his tools and leaned in from the other side, April and RC's legs poking out the front of the chassis where they worked on the scanner components.

"That's perfect," Bonnie didn't quite disguise her surprise, even though she'd watched Michael work without instructions from Kitt or April, "Much tidier."

"April, if we turn that circuit back on will it affect what you're doing?" Michael called, holding a hand out for Kitt to wait. His Driver was very particular about Kitt not feeling discomfort during maintenance or upgrades, it made Kitt value him even more.

Via the camera he was still accessing, the AI watched April and RC rolled their dollies out from under the chassis, sitting up.

"We're done," she informed Michael, "We can test while he's up on the chocks, then put him back to rights, if you can wait a few minutes more Kitt."

"Activating circuit and scanners," Kitt announced, and was relieved when everything switched back on smoothly, "Diagnostic is optimal, Michael. Thank you April and RC, that scanner adjustment is much appreciated."

The scanner was stronger than the previous configuration, and Kitt was pleased that his range had increased, as well as his strength. It meant he'd be able to track Michael better over further distances, something that often concerned him. He hated losing contact with his Driver.

"Alright," Michael crowed, "Let's put these other whatsits back in and get you back to rights."

"Whatsits, really, Michael," Kitt would have rolled his eyes if he'd had them, as it was he 'rolled' the scanner and got a chuckle. April moved past Bonnie and started passing the previously removed components to Michael, who installed them neatly and carefully, having Kitt check each one as he did. The semi had parked while they were working, and RC disappeared into the front now, giving Kitt a wink as he did.

Once the hood was fastened and all four wheels were back on the floor Kitt pronounced himself satisfied, and Michael put the milk crate back on the shelf, once more containing his cleaning supplies. RC came back from the semi cockpit, nodding to Kitt discretely.

"Who's ready for lunch?" Michael asked, moving to clean his hands, "It's the first time I've got to see you all for a while, so my treat."

"I'm in," April smiled, and Bonnie hesitated before accepting as well. Kitt popped the front seats forward.

"Your chariot awaits," he announced lightly, while Michael finished washing up. RC slid into the back with April, giving Bonnie the front seat. Michael slipped into the driver's seat and Kitt lowered the ramp as Michael started her up, listening intently.

"She sounds normal," Michael nodded in satisfaction, "Good. We can do some field testing later if you like Kitt."

"I could take the time to play a game of hide and seek," Kitt said slyly, "You've yet to evade me."

"I've yet to take the comm link off," Michael replied with a snort, sending her down the ramp and waiting until the semi was locked up before driving at a leisurely pace towards the road. The semi was parked near the team's hotel, so they would be able to return the ladies there tonight without going too far out of their way. Kitt planned to keep Michael close tonight as well: time with his Driver being so short before they had to leave made him reluctant to let the human sleep away from him.

RC was planning to join a maintenance crew early Monday morning, who were helping refurbish the bank. This would let him plant and retrieve the R-PAD, but they would have to be there by five am at the latest, which meant driving for most of Sunday night while RC slept. Michael would return to the band on Sunday afternoon, and Kitt would likely not see him again for several days, depending on what information they found.

April and RC chatted in the rear seat quietly, and Bonnie looked out the window. Kitt's monitoring of Michael's vital signs showed that he was relaxed, driving alertly and with due care and attention. Traffic wasn't heavy, and they reached Michael's intended destination in good time.

"I can park her myself if you like, Michael, there are places further down the block," Kitt offered as they reached the restaurant.

"I don't mind dropping people off and parking her, Kitt," Michael smiled, "At least that way I'll know where to find you. Don't want to start our game too early."

"You're serious about playing hide and seek?" Bonnie seemed startled, "Isn't that a little… childish?"

"It's fun," Kitt said lightly, "I enjoy it. Very well, Michael, drop them off."

"I want to play too, then," April said as she climbed out of the backseat, RC behind her, "If that's allowed, Kitt?"

"I look forward to it," Kitt promised her, "I will find us a suitable location while you eat."

Now that she wasn't trying to make him float on water or other such ridiculous ideas, he and April got along a lot better. She had been trying to help, in her own way, and Kitt appreciated that, to a degree. In the end, with Michael's support, Kitt had put his figurative foot down, and their relationship had gotten better. Kitt had insisted that April remain with them once Bonnie returned, though April had primarily worked on other projects for Knight Industries.

Michael parked the chassis and sat still for a moment. His vitals had taken on the slight indicators of stress, and Kitt was certain he knew why. He also knew the remedy. There was a reason they had their own garage, and that he'd taught Michael so much of the simple maintenance, repair and upgrade skills that his Driver now had.

"I don't think the restaurant does deliveries, Michael," Kitt teased and Michael smiled briefly, before squaring his shoulders and getting out, "I'll have located a place the three of us can play by the time you get back."

"You don't think Bonnie will join us?" Michael frowned, leaning back into the chassis to look at Kitt. That he didn't bother to ask who was being excluded was telling.

"I'll have a taxi waiting for her, when you're finished with your meal," Kitt said firmly, "I wouldn't want to insult her dignity."

Michael choked on a laugh and straightened, shutting and locking the doors. His stress levels had dropped again and Kitt hummed smugly to himself as he watched his Driver walk back up the block to rejoin the humans waiting for him. He knew RC and April would do their best to ensure Michael was emotionally secure, but Kitt was the one who took the best care of his Driver.

Kitt requested Michael give the comm link to Bonnie as the meal was ending, and he informed her he'd ordered and paid for a taxi to take her back to the hotel in a calm voice. This was the first time he'd ever blatantly opposed Bonnie, and it was a little nerve wracking. April, RC and Michael rejoined him talking about their meal, which had apparently been excellent, so Kitt did not bring the matter up again. If the humans weren't concerned about it, perhaps he didn't need to be either.

There were several abandoned buildings still in good enough condition to allow the humans to run around, and Kitt to drive around, in, on the edge of the city. Kitt took them to the largest while Michael explained the rules to hide and seek. After some back and forth, RC left his comm link in the chassis, to give Kitt two people to trace that were not connected to his systems, as well as Michael and his comm link. Michael would travel further away than the other two, and likely find areas where their signal had been blocked in the past to check the new range and strength of the scanners.

Kitt agreed he would target Michael last, and that RC and April would both have a three minute head start, where Kitt turned off his sensors and external cameras to allow them to find hiding places. That didn't mean he turned off his microphones, and he listened to three sets of footsteps, Michael's familiar almost silent tread, RC's slightly heavier one and April's quite loud and hurried pace as they split into three different directions and ran off.

RC was the first Kitt found. He'd climbed up a support beam and moved himself into the shadows of several girders. The human was completely still and silent, and invisible to the human optic range. The scanner had detected his heartbeat, an anomalous sound for twenty feet in the air, and infrared had identified the young man. Kitt rolled himself silently to park under his temporary driver.

"Don't make me shoot my grappling hook up there," Kitt wryly announced his presence and RC laughed at him, climbing down nimbly and sliding into the back seat of the car with good humour. Kitt's words didn't even register as a threat to the young man, which was as it should be.

"What gave me away?" RC asked as Kitt started scanning again, "I'm never gonna live this down if I left an obvious sign behind me."

"Your heart beat. A human would not have known you were there unless they were using night vision goggles or an infrared set up. It was a good spot, RC," Kitt said, and RC huffed in relief. He took his field skills seriously, and Kitt encouraged him to learn with each of their deployments. He didn't want to lose his young partner to an avoidable mistake. He didn't want to have to tell Michael they'd lost him either.

"Ok, well that's good to know," RC nodded, "Do I help with the scanners, or is that against the rules?"

"We've never played this game with more people," Kitt said absently, rolling on silent wheels through the structure, "So I can't really say. I think if I allow you to assist, people may say we were cheating."

"As your temporary partner, an argument could be made that I am supposed to be assisting you with any tasks," RC riposted, but he also leaned back and stretched his legs across the space, wriggling to get comfortable, "But I wouldn't want to be the cause of accusations, so by all means, carry on, I'll nap."

Kitt made a noise that sounded like a huff at him, concentrating on what the scans were telling him. There was an anomalous reading in the far corner of the building, partially obscured by what appeared to be a working electrical appliance, and he rolled them in that direction. It turned out that April had located an abandoned refrigeration unit, hooked it up to power, and was hiding in the 'noise'.

"April, you should probably unplug that again, the motor is overheating and may catch fire," Kitt rolled to a silent stop just to the side, and April jumped in surprise before laughing and unplugging the unit.

"I noticed," she slid into the front seat and peered at the 'captured' RC, who cracked open an eye and grinned back at her, "I was thinking I'd have to switch it off and move soon."

"If I hadn't noticed that the appliance hadn't been running when we first arrived, I'd have been slower to investigate," Kitt confirmed, "If the building was full of working appliances you'd have had a better chance of evading me for longer."

"I'll keep that in mind if I'm ever hiding from people who scan the way you do," April nodded, though she wasn't a field agent and would probably never need to implement his advice. Kitt liked to prepare the people he cared for though, and as one of his technicians, April was important to him. Also, Michael liked her better than Bonnie, despite some of the 'innovations' they'd endured testing for.

Not that Michael had ever said that to Kitt, certainly not in words. His vital signs were clear to the AI, though.

"So did you just agree not to look for Michael first because he has the comm link?" RC asked, "We were the better challenge?"

"Michael usually gets five minutes head start, not three," Kitt replied, "Though it did take me a little longer than I expected to find you both. You were both very innovative."

"Maybe we could do this back at the Foundation some time," April mused, "It would be a great training exercise for the FOG teams, and they'd probably get a kick out of it. I'd certainly like to try again in a less derelict, more challenging location. It would give us real data for scanner and sensor improvements. If we issued the FOG teams with the prototype comm links I've been working on, I could use that data as well."

"I'd want to discuss it with Michael, first, April," Kitt said, adjusting his scanners carefully and sweeping again, not surprised to hear she was working on field gear for the human teams, "We've had a hard fight to retain control over certain … rights and safeties."

"Oh of course, Kitt," April was well aware of Kitt's history of fighting for his recognition as a person. Of all her faults, that had not been one of them, "I'd talk the whole thing through with the both of you first, before we go to Devon at all. You'd have sign off on what was permitted and what wasn't, though the final … course? layout? would need to be a secret from you to get a true test. At least for the first run through."

"That would be acceptable," Kitt sent the chassis through the building in a slow S curve, scanning and re-scanning, "We wouldn't want an unfair advantage."

"Michael would need to be both searcher and hider," RC contributed from the back, "We'd need to do it at least twice, maybe in teams or something. And make the layout alterable too, so no two runs are identical. I'd like to help out, if that's ok. Sounds really cool."

"I'd value your input," Kitt agreed and reversed his course. April and RC exchanged a look, little grins sneaking onto their faces. Kitt appreciated that they weren't laughing at his frustration outright. In real conditions, his inability to find Michael was potentially life threatening. It certainly gave Kitt an unwelcome feeling of anxiety.

"You can't find him, can you?" April guessed. Kitt made a sighing noise.

"He is currently eluding me," Kitt confirmed, "However, we … oh."

"Kitt?" both humans chorused. RC leaned forward, his face intent. He at least seemed to understand that what was a game to them, was being taken more seriously by Kitt.

"He's outside the building," Kitt groused, "And not in a location I can reach easily."

"Is that allowed?" RC was smothering laughter now that Michael was found, and April wasn't bothering to.

"Technically, he's still within the boundaries of the property," Kitt grumbled as he turned the chassis and hurried her outside, swinging around the corner of the building and backing up to give the best view. Michael was near the edge of the roof, surrounded by H VAC units that had a low amount of lead in them, which had interfered with the signal.

"Michael, I can see you," Kitt broadcast aloud and through the comm link, "Please tell me you didn't free climb up the side of the building."

"He can do that?" RC sounded awed. April put a hand over her mouth as Michael stood upright, grinning down at them from a height of almost fifty feet.

"There is no internal roof access in the building, and the external roof access has been partially removed," Kitt allowed an aggrieved tone to take over his voice, letting Michael know what he thought of his Driver's tactics, "Plus he'd have made a lot of noise if he'd accessed it, allowing me to trace him during the 'hide' phase."

Michael raised the comm link to his mouth, "Well that took longer than I thought it would, pal."

"The good news is that I am able to scan around the low level of lead up there," Kitt replied, allowing the comm link to sound in the cabin so his passengers could hear both sides of their conversation, "You did free climb up there, didn't you?"

"Yup," Michael grinned, "But I can use the external stairs if you'd prefer on the way down."

"They aren't structurally sound," Kitt reported, "I wouldn't recommend it."

"Alright, coming down then," Michael replied and sat on the edge of the roof. April squeaked as he swung himself carefully off the side and Kitt rolled the chassis forward slowly as Michael carefully and deliberately made his way down, taking a path that had plenty of holds and no stretches, more as a concession to Kitt's brewing lecture on recklessness and foolish risk taking than any need to limit his movements.

"Man, I would not have been game to try that," RC said as Michael's feet safely touched the ground and the chassis stopped in front of him, almost pinning him to the wall, "I used a ladder of sorts to get up where I was."

"Which is why I didn't lecture you," Kitt said, "You on the other hand, Michael, are in trouble. What have I said about taking risks like that?"

"It should be proportional to the reward?" Michael asked, not at all concerned that he was effectively pinned at the knee by the chassis hood to the wall behind him, effectively putting him entirely at Kitt's mercy.

"Michael…" Kitt's tone was clearly a warning, even though his heart wasn't really in it. After all, Michael had climbed more dangerous and higher obstacles.

"You now know that you have the ability to deal with a bit more lead than you could before, Kitt. I'd say that was me taking a risk leading to reward," Michael protested, "Wouldn't you RC?"

"Leave me out of it, man, this is between you two," RC laughed, leaning between the seats to peer at Michael, "At least I used something that could be considered a ladder."

"How high up were you?" Michael grinned, leaning on the wall comfortably. He looked utterly relaxed, and the scanner confirmed that he was. Kitt felt good seeing it, and stored this feeling and the accompanying data away too.

"About twenty feet," RC shrugged, "Kitt says my heartbeat gave me away."

"Not a fail," Michael nodded agreeably, "And April, I take it he found you second?"

"She almost set fire to the building," Kitt deliberately misreported, purely for the teasing value. It worked, and by the time April and RC had clarified the situation, he'd rolled the chassis back and Michael was sliding into his seat as Kitt conceded that April's tactics had merit.

They spent the drive to the semi working on the proposed training exercise for Devon. Michael was intrigued and then enthused by the idea.

0000

RC and April started working on the training exercise proposal when they reached the home office, sitting at the low table and chairs to the side, while Michael sat at one of the workbenches with components for the R-PAD pilfered from the spare parts bin. He didn't need a build diagram for this particular doohickey, which drew power from the computer it was connected to, so he chatted casually to Kitt and the others, contributing ideas for locations and obstacles that would be suitable for them to use in their plans.

The doohickey usually took a couple of hours, if only because Michael preferred to double check his connections carefully, and it was almost finished when Bonnie came into the home office, clearly wondering where everyone was. When she realised that Michael was building something she came to look, clearly curious. Kitt tensed, there was no other way to describe his reaction, waiting for her to say something hurtful.

"Is this the remote port access device?" she asked quietly, "I've never seen one before."

"Yeah," Michael glanced up, also tensed for a poor reaction, "It's powered by whatever we plug it into, so if someone is scanning for active surveillance devices it passes the scan, provided it's not plugged in."

"Did you design it?" Bonnie peered closer then straightened, her tone neutral.

"Nah, Kitt's the designer, I build what he tells me," Michael shrugged.

"You suggested it," Kitt spoke up, "We had a case where there was almost no wireless signals at all in the building I could use to access their computer network, so Michael suggested we build something for it. I designed the R-PAD while he was working on the more physical investigation, and sent him to a Radio Shack for the parts. I had to program it myself the first time, as we need a certain pass key protocol on there, but now Michael can do it for me."

"You've learned to code?" RC asked from where he was sitting. He was also watching the exchange with a cautious expression. April was frowning at her fellow technician, obviously willing her not to put her foot further into it.

"Kitt suggested it would help if I could do some basic coding in the field, and he's not wrong. He can't always get into a system until I open a door for him, and we don't always have time to build a doohickey, so… coding it is. He's still the king of hacking," Michael shot Kitt a sly grin, and Kitt swished his scanner in smug reply.

"Michael has built a lot of technology for me over the years," Kitt mused, "Although he had the most trouble with the cleaning bots."

"Cleaning bots?" April blurted, eyes wide.

"We're away from home for long stretches, so dust accumulates," Michael shrugged, turning off the soldering iron and putting it back in its holder neatly, "And that means I clean for an hour or so before I can go to bed, which makes us both grumpy. So Kitt took an idea from a toy, and industrialised it. We have two that vacuum the floor, and two that wander around with electrostatic wands. One goes high, the other goes low, and pulls the dust off the surfaces, which they deposit on the floor for the vacuum's. It's not perfect, but it means I don't spend an hour sneezing and coughing while I clean up to start with."

"He's unbearable when he has hay fever," Kitt informed them all, his tone martyred, "I designed them in self defence. I can send a signal to them when we're a couple of hours away and by the time we get home, it's dust free."

RC laughed at Michael, who rolled his eyes and shrugged, not bothered by the complaints. It wasn't like they could hire a cleaning service to keep the place tidy.

"I do a proper clean while we're there, but I don't have to do it first thing any more," Michael smiled at Kitt gratefully, then closed up the R-PAD, "The cleaning bots were a pain in the ass though, we had a lot of problems with the sensors."

"You should patent them," April decided, "They'd make a fortune for you. I'd love to have one in my home."

"Well now I know what to get you for Christmas," Michael laughed, "Bonnie, may I borrow the computer for a bit?"

It was technically her work station, which Michael shared with her when they were at the home office, but Michael clearly wasn't about to start taking anything for granted with her.

"Of course," Bonnie stepped back, "April, what are you working on?"

April shared a glance with RC, but started telling Bonnie about their training plan, while Michael hooked up the R-PAD and started typing. Bonnie joined them, intrigued by the idea and clearly willing to support it. Kitt continued to monitor that conversation closely though, not wanting to be signed up for any outrageous schemes.

0000

Two weeks after Michael had built the doohickey, the case was closed. Kitt and RC were ordered to return to the Foundation for the final debriefing, while Michael was required to complete his contract with the band. It turned out that the stage manager and one of the roadies had been involved in the methamphetamine distribution, with some involvement from Buddy Jackson. Johnny was thought to have noticed something he shouldn't have, and Buddy had sent people to silence him, not that Johnny could recall whatever it was.

"It's entirely possible that he didn't know what he'd seen," Devon mused, perched a little incongruously on a stool in Kitt's garage, "It may have meant nothing to him at all. As it is, I'm told the young man is recovering well, and will rejoin the band at the end of the tour and Michael's contract."

"What about Michael," Kitt asked quietly, "Will we continue to support him in the field?"

"Now that the arrests have happened, no," Devon frowned, "I'm sorry, Kitt, but I can't justify you and RC continuing to follow the band. Mr Perkins foolish promise that Michael would stay for the full three months and not the duration of the case has tied my hands. And in the meantime, I have another case that you and RC would be ideal for."

"Without Michael?" RC looked startled, shooting a glance at Kitt from where he slouched on his own stool, "That doesn't seem… right."

"Unfortunately, someone on the board noticed that Kitt abandoned his post during the case, to attend to Michael, leaving you in the field unsupported," Devon said blandly, holding up a hand when RC and Kitt both started to protest, "I'm aware that Michael was in dire need of your support, but he had the band with him at the time, and could have waited until RC had been removed from his surveillance duties. Or at least, that is how the board see's it."

"And you, Devon?" Kitt challenged, "Should I have left my Driver in a state of emotional distress after he was forced …"

"No Kitt," Devon interrupted gently, "You did the right thing. RC was in no real danger, and he has told me it was his initial decision to send you to Michael. I've been worried about him since he lost Stevie, and what he had to do that night to propitiate the crowd was… difficult for him."

A delicate way to say that Michael's pain and grief had been dragged out of him and displayed in front of strangers for their entertainment. Even if the song continued to rise in the charts and people wrote letters to the band, thanking them for sharing a song that put their own grief into words, Kitt still resented that Michael had been forced to perform it. Even the scandal of having the drugs running through the back stage hadn't put a dent in the popularity of Stevie's tribute.

"I've called Michael personally last night, and informed him of the situation. He knows that you'll be out of range for a while, and that the board is insisting that RC act in his stead while he finishes his contract," Devon added after a moment, "He's not happy that both of you will be sent to the field without him, but he made it very clear to me that he feels you both to be capable and professional."

Of course Michael would. Of the two of them, it was Kitt who would live the longest, which meant it needed to be proved that he was capable of working with people other than Michael Knight. Otherwise they would decommission him as an expense that was unsustainable. While Kitt was certain he would be able to earn enough money trading on the stock markets to ensure his continued existence, he didn't want them to lose their home and friends, which would happen if Michael had to abscond with him and live on the run.

"He would like you to call him when you're available, Kitt," Devon stood up, "RC, if you'll come to my office, I have the briefing ready for you. You won't be expected to leave until the day after tomorrow, at the absolute earliest, so you'll have time to take care of any errands or other business."

RC gave Kitt a long look, then turned to Devon, "Let me get my gear out of the trunk, and I'll be right with you."

Devon nodded and headed back to the house.

"I assume you'll spend the night at home?" RC asked, walking to the trunk, which Kitt popped for him.

"I don't garage here overnight," Kitt confirmed, not going into why. He didn't talk about the assault, or at least he only ever did with Michael. There had been three events where he'd suffered either an invasion of his mind or a reprogramming of his directives, and Bonnie had unfortunately been connected to all of them, though she'd been brainwashed for one and impersonated for another.

"Ok, well once I get the briefing material I'll bring it down for you. We can go through it together, and tomorrow I'll, you know, run laundry and things," RC grinned, "I never realised how much of a pain it is to keep clean clothes on the road. Michael is a saint."

"He has gotten used to using laundromats at odd hours," Kitt mused, "Thank you RC. If Bonnie requires me to report to the garage…"

"I'll come with," RC confirmed, "Michael made sure I knew that was part of your contract to keep working here. I can't say I'll know the difference technologically speaking, but I'll make sure that no one steps over the boundaries."

"Thank you," Kitt was relieved, "I appreciate your help."

"You know I'm not trying to take his spot right? As soon as that gig of his is up, I'm out of the picture," RC came to lean into the driver's side, knowing Kitt preferred it when people spoke to him in person. Not that the driver's side of the car was where he was located, but it was the control side of the chassis, so people tended to associate him there.

"Oh I do know that," Kitt assured RC, "And so does Michael. We're both grateful to you RC. You've proven an excellent ally and partner to us both these last two months. Things would have been a lot harder without you."

"Glad to be of assistance," RC tipped a lazy salute and picked up his bag, "I've got my comm link, if you want me. I'll be back with the briefing in a while."

"There's a drive through Michael enjoys," Kitt suggested shyly, "You could eat while I read, provided you don't drop any crumbs."

"Sounds like a plan," RC's face lit up in a grin and he headed for the Foundation.

0000

For the next month, Kitt and RC were kept extremely busy, crisscrossing the country on a number of cases. They crossed within range of Michael's comm link several times, usually late at night. Michael had spoken to RC to assure him he didn't need to check in, so Kitt never bothered to inform RC they were in range.

Besides, he had come to realise that Michael had taken a lover while they were away, and didn't want to embarrass either his Driver or his partner by connecting them at an awkward time. His Driver had clearly forgotten to engage privacy mode, perhaps believing that Kitt would be out of range anyway, so Kitt used the information from the comm links limited vital scans, as well as the audio from the mic, to deduce that Michael and Matt, the drummer, had commenced a physical relationship with each other.

Kitt was not surprised. Matt had been attentive to Michael from the start, and Michael had been receptive. Kitt had thought that maybe it was just a ploy to get the man to accept his presence, or to get the band to accept him by being kind to a member whose preferences could be considered an outlier to mainstream society. Michael had not been prejudiced against the people they'd encountered over the years who'd preferred sexual relations with their own gender, though he had politely had to discourage a few now and then. Matt had been even more attentive to Michael when he'd returned to the band after Stevie's tribute had been played that first time and he'd spent the night sheltering with Kitt.

Michael had confessed to Matt once that he'd been with a male friend who'd served with him, and that seemed to have opened the door to this current relationship. Usually, even without privacy mode engaged, Kitt would have disconnected from the comm link while Michael engaged in sexual intercourse. He knew that such a thing was considered very private and that there were many taboo's and even laws surrounding a third party watching such a thing.

But he couldn't bring himself to do so. He missed Michael immensely, and he was deeply curious about how intercourse between same gendered persons worked. He monitored Michael's vital signs as deeply as he could through the comm link, matching the sounds and words he heard to the readings as best he could. Kitt had been very surprised to experience a profound sense of satisfaction when he detected Michael's climax, and was glad that they had pulled over for the night to allow RC to sleep in a motel. He wasn't certain that he'd have been able to disguise the reaction, which he'd expressed as a shudder through the frame of the chassis.

Kitt experienced three of these occurrences during the month that RC and he worked in the field together. The second and third had garnered just as strong a reaction as the first, though they seemed more intense as he'd anticipated them once he was aware of Michael's arousal. He wasn't sure if he would be able to speak to Michael about the reaction any time soon, and he was positive that RC, Devon and Bonnie were not to be told, so he tucked the memories behind a second layer of protection and resolved to think it over some more before he spoke to Michael.

After all, Michael was aware of most of the things Kitt considered private, if only because he was there for most of the things Kitt stored away as important or precious. He'd be embarrassed perhaps, but Kitt was certain his Driver would at least help him understand.

0000

Kitt paused to let the empty band bus out onto the main road, and then drove slowly up the drive. At the top of the loop, most of the band were clustered around a stranger, whom Kitt assumed was the newly recovered Johnny. Michael stood back from them a little, his bags and guitar cases at his feet. Although the engine was quiet even in normal mode, Michael glanced up as Kitt came into view, a smile spreading over his face.

Kitt pulled up beside Michael, who put his bags in the trunk and slid the guitars onto the passenger seat, where Kitt secured them with the passive laser restraint system. RC had brought Michael's amp to their garage a few weeks ago, and Kitt intended to encourage his partner to play at home more often. Besides, Michael had promised him Vivaldi and Kitt wasn't going to let him forget.

Kitt and RC had only been in LA for a few hours themselves, driving all night to make it back to the Foundation before Michael did. RC had insisted on it, instead of booking into a motel for the night, and Kitt had been grateful. They'd had three cases back to back, all successfully closed, though Kitt had silently compared their performance against past similar cases with Michael. His Driver had been right, Kitt and RC were a good pairing, but green. Time would correct that, but Kitt was unsure he wanted to devote that time to do it. All that he wanted was currently parked on the drivers side fender, his hands in his lap and his back leaning against the windshield. He was wearing the familiar plaid and denim, and Kitt relished the healthy glow to his Driver's face. RC was back in his own home now, and Kitt was here to bring Michael to theirs.

"Michael, are you sure we can't keep you?" Delia broke away from the chattering group, coming over to where Michael was leaning comfortably. Off stage she wore jeans with holes in them and a mans shirt tied at the waist, her hair blowing wildly. She was a far cry from her stage persona.

"Sorry, Dee, but my contract was for three months," Michael replied fondly, "And besides, now Johnny's recovered you don't need me."

"You know, with Buddy gone, we have a spot available," Dave said with a laugh. Lola came to join them as well, followed by Miss Casey. Matt and Johnny were talking together quietly, and Kitt wondered if the drummer was avoiding saying goodbye to his lover. He wondered if Michael was upset by the parting, though his vital signs were not that of a man about to say goodbye to a loved one.

"He can't," Miss Casey sighed, "Although I would surely hire him out from under his bosses if I could."

"Bosses? I thought Michael was an independent musician?" Dave frowned.

"Technically, I'm not a musician," Michael replied, "I'm an investigator. Miss Casey here asked me to look into what happened to Johnny."

"So… you were behind catching that drugs ring we never noticed?" Lola asked. The entire band had been mortified about the news, and their PR team had been working overtime to make it clear that the band hadn't known what was going on. The Foundation had released enough evidence to show that they'd been investigated and cleared, and now it was a matter of time for them to recover their reputation.

"Yes, my team and I did that," Michael nodded dropping a hand to rest on Kitt's hood. The humans wouldn't have understood the meaning of the gesture, but it warmed Kitt.

"And I can't thank you enough," Johnny said quietly from the back of the group, "Knowing there was someone out with the band looking after them was a relief."

"Is your name even Michael Danvers?" Lola put her hands on her hips, and Michael shook his head. He'd used an alias, not wanting 'Michael Knight' to be splashed about in the entertainment mags that covered the tour.

"No ma'am, my name is Michael though. After Stevie, I don't really like to give out my name, so people can't be hurt," Michael stood up and she hugged him. Delia kissed him, as did Miss Casey, then Matt muttered 'what the hell' and kissed Michael too. Very thoroughly and for a significant time span.

"Dave, if you try it I'll let Miss Lola hurt you," Michael laughed when Matt let him go, and the team had stopped hollering. Johnny looked astonished though, giving Matt a look that Kitt categorised as longing, which he hid as soon as the drummer turned around.

"Hand shake it is," Dave replied and shook Michael's hand, pulling him into a back slapping hug, which was heartily returned, "I almost expect you to mount a rearing stallion and ride into the sunset, man."

"I'm not that country, and it's barely nine thirty," Michael laughed, "Miss Casey knows how to find me if you ever need me though. I want to thank you all for taking me in."

"Our pleasure," Miss Casey stepped back and Michael slid into his seat, starting the engine. Kitt deployed the passive laser restraint system and turned on ski mode when they got to the straightaway of the drive.

"Hi Ho Silver, away!" he projected back to the now cheering band as Michael laughed, helplessly pinned to his seat. Kitt put her on all four wheels before they got to the road, and Michael took her over, piloting her onto the street and into traffic.

"You, sir, are a menace," it was Michael's best Devon impersonation, and Kitt made a sound like blowing a raspberry at him in reply.

"It will be good to get home though," Michael grinned, "And to unpack and not have to repack again tomorrow. Please tell me Devon hasn't mentioned any assignments."

"He did not," Kitt confirmed gratefully, "It seems we will have a few days in peace. I've already activated the cleaning bots, and traffic is light between here and home."

"Let's stop for groceries first then," Michael flicked on the indicator, "That way we won't have to go out again."

By the time they rolled into their garage, the bots had completed their work. The familiar sight of home was soothing to Kitt and he switched the chassis off with a slight sigh. Michael emptied the chassis of his belongings and groceries, before coming back and arming the perimeter settings on their security system and going to Kitt's recharge point.

"Come here, you," Michael murmured, unhooking the cable, "You're exhausted."

"How could you tell?" Kitt asked, releasing the brakes and rolling forward wearily. He hadn't had time for a full recharge all month, using short recharge cycles only, usually while RC drove. His systems weren't endangered, but a long recharge where he didn't also have to maintain surveillance and data analysis was something he'd been looking forward to.

"I can always tell," Michael stroked the cable port and Kitt opened it for him, sighing as the connection was established, "Ease down, partner, I've got us now. We're safe at home, and not going anywhere for the rest of the day. Relax, Kitt."

His Driver came and crouched in front of the scanner, running a finger over the LED's, encouraging Kitt to slow the sweeps down until they stopped. Kitt released the chassis systems one at a time, letting go of the data he'd spent long weeks processing and monitoring. He could almost feel heated and stretched systems relaxing, and it was a relief.

"That's it buddy, nice and easy. Sleep well, Kitt," Michael murmured and Kitt let the scanner blink out.

By the time he resumed scanning, twenty hours had passed. Michael was asleep in his bed. The dust cover had been removed from the desktop PC, and there were remnants of a healthy meal in the kitchen from last night's dinner. The floor had been mopped and the washing from Michael's bags had been processed through the machines kept in the bathroom and folded away in their drawers or closet shelves. Michael had even dusted where the bots couldn't reach and emptied the box they'd built to catch the mail from the slot they'd mounted where the door to the foyer had been. The box was there as much to ensure mail didn't scatter all over the floor as it was to prevent people peering into their home, and Kitt had been relieved that Michael had installed it. It even had a sensor mounted on it, tied into their security system, as the slot was technically an access point.

His Driver was sleeping deeply, lying on his side facing Kitt. There were no unconscious tears or signs of distress and Kitt spent long moments checking Michael over carefully, cataloguing the current scans and comparing them to previous ones. He was a little underweight still, but performing concerts took a lot of energy, and Michael had always struggled a little to maintain his weight with such a high metabolism.

As Kitt watched, Michael stirred, his eyes blinking open and a hand running over his face.

"Good morning," Michael mumbled, still waking up, "How was your recharge cycle?"

"I slept well, thank you," Kitt replied, happy to play their word game once more, "And you?"

"Like a log," Michael got up and unhooked the cable for Kitt, winding it back into its holder and trailing his fingers across the hood, "I'm gonna get dressed and go for a run, if you're ok?"

"Fine," Kitt confirmed, "Did you send your final report to Devon?"

For all that the people at the Foundation complained, Michael was prompt enough in his paperwork, if only because he wanted to get it over and done with.

"I did," Michael waved a hand at the uncovered PC, "And checked the email accounts for Miki as well. Our real estate agent has been asked to list the building next door for sale, and sent us the details."

"I'll have a look," Kitt confirmed as Michael passed out of sight. Kitt ensured his partner took his wallet and keys with him when he ran, knowing Michael would likely want to buy a freshly baked breakfast pastry from one of their tenants further up the street. He also didn't want to deal with Michael's embarrassment from locking himself out of the house, not after the last time. Kitt hadn't minded opening the garage door, but Michael had fumed at himself for hours, seeing it as a lapse in security.

While Michael was running, Devon called. Kitt answered hoping the director wasn't about to send them out on assignment again. The fifth anniversary of Michael being given to Kitt as a Driver was coming up, and Kitt had hoped that they'd celebrate it at home together, or at least not on assignment. It seemed that Devon had other plans though, wanting to arrange a meeting with them, away from the Foundation and in a space that was still secure. Kitt had connected the comm link to the call, and Michael suggested that Devon come to their garage. Kitt seconded the invitation, curious what the man who sent them into the field would make of their home.

Michael came back from his run with a box from the bakery, and left it on the counter while he showered and dressed. He had coffee ready by the time Devon pulled up to the garage door, and Kitt had already rolled forward into the space where the now made and stowed bed had been. Devon had said that Bonnie would be with him, and it was she who emerged from the car first, her eyes wide as she took in their shared space. Michael had shifted the couch so it was partially facing Kitt (and had to vacuum the dust from where it had been sitting, clearly the bots weren't able to fit beneath it) and moved the coffee table.

"Welcome," Kitt said to her, and Michael came out of the kitchen with a tray of coffee, pastries and crockery. They didn't do fancy china, because Michael didn't see the point in spending a fortune on things you were either afraid to use or couldn't put in the dishwasher, and Kitt was more likely to watch them break when they were dropped on the epoxy floor than admire them anyway.

"Thank you," Bonnie's voice was hushed, "For inviting me. Kitt, this place is wonderful."

"Everyone should have one," Michael said cheerfully, putting the tray down and wandering over. He ushered her away from the car and shook Devon's hand.

"I appreciate the trust you're showing us, Michael," Devon murmured, "I know you wanted to keep this place separate from the Foundation."

"It's hard to do," Michael chuckled, "Work tends to follow us around anyway Devon, and it was time you at least saw the place."

Bonnie was examining the desktop PC, clearly recognising it had been custom built.

"Michael built it, Bonnie," Kitt said quietly, "I designed and ordered the components, but Michael put it together for me."

"He's a lot more skilled than I realised, isn't he," Bonnie shot Michael a look. He was pretending he couldn't hear them as he poured coffee.

Kitt didn't answer, not wanting to start an argument. Devon was standing over in front of Michael's degrees but he didn't say anything when he joined Bonnie on the couch. From his vital signs he wasn't surprised to see them. Kitt assumed he had someone trawling for information on all the FOG agents, including any qualifications listed in their name.

Michael had settled in the battered second hand leather armchair he preferred to sit in when playing chess with Kitt, and the humans made idle chat for a moment, mostly Bonnie and Devon asking about the garage and Michael or Kitt answering. Eventually though, Kitt's curiosity was too much to bear and he decided a prompt to business was in order.

"While I would normally allow the conversation to unfold, I must admit I am curious over your request for this meeting Devon," Kitt said in the next lull. Michael hid his smile inexpertly behind his coffee cup, knowing exactly how developed Kitt's sense of curiosity was.

"Yes, you're quite right," Devon didn't seem at all perturbed by the prompt, though Bonnie seemed a little startled, "We do have business to discuss, and it is something that is a little … delicate."

"Tell me you haven't got a woman pregnant," Michael muttered and Devon laughed at him outright. The phrasing was something you might expect to hear in that situation.

"No, I've not been informed of any immanent deliveries," Devon chuckled, "This is about Wilton Knight and his Will."

"We've had the five year anniversary recently," Michael nodded, his face solemn. Kitt had been aware of it of course, though he and RC had been very busy at the time and Kitt wasn't in the habit of marking Wilton's anniversary. Michael usually found a place of worship and lit a candle in memorial, if he could.

"Wilton had an enormous estate, and much of it was held in reserve when he died," Devon sighed, "He had certain stipulations and milestones that needed to be met before any of the clauses or inheritances named in the Will could be enacted, and we have just passed a new one. Wilton's lawyers have informed the Knight Industries board, and myself that a new set of clauses are about to become… relevant, I suppose is the word. His lawyers have informed me that they will be having a meeting in two days time, and they have stipulated that it can only go ahead if you are present, Michael."

"Me?" Michael looked astonished, and put his empty coffee cup down. He'd been fiddling with it, and Kitt approved of putting it down: he didn't want to see it broken when the human dropped it in surprise.

"Was Michael named in Wilton's initial… I don't know what to call it. Phase of disbursements?" Kitt asked curiously.

"Only peripherally. If Michael chose not to continue with FLAG, he was to receive an annual pension. It wasn't lavish, but it would assist with his daily living expenses. There were stipulations about sobriety and criminal activity attached to that, as well," Devon also put his coffee cup down, while Bonnie peered at Michael anxiously.

"How rude," Kitt fumed, "As if he would become a drunkard or a criminal!"

"It's a fair stipulation, Kitt," Michael put up a hand, "He had my background checks, but he also knew that I was adrift after the surgeries. If I went off the rails, he'd want some sort of protection for the Knight name and fortune. Not to mention his son was not exactly a paragon of virtue."

"Ridiculous," Kitt was not propitiated, but subsided when Michael gave him a warm smile.

"His daughter Jennifer was also named," Devon revealed, "She is the majority share holder of Knight Industries and manages the company well. There are stipulations about her personal inheritance, and the composition of the board, as well as milestones and key indicators for FLAG. So far, those stipulations are all that have stopped Jennifer from closing FLAG down."

"What about Kitt?" Michael frowned in alarm, "Did Wilton provide any safeguards for him?"

"There are a few," Devon nodded, "But I feel that the next phase, as Kitt put it, of Wilton's Will will change the conditions under which FLAG, and Kitt by consequence, operate."

"Is he at risk?" Michael didn't let up, "Devon, is this you telling me we need to run?"

"Oh no, Michael," Devon looked alarmed, "I'm sorry if you think things are that dire, it was never my intention to… goodness me, no. Wilton was very invested in seeing Kitt and yourself thrive, and the last year has shown that you both have, by every metric available. I believe that whatever we are about to learn, it will affect Kitt in a positive way."

"Alright, then," Michael leaned back, his shoulders still a little tense, "So two days from now we need to arrive at this meeting?"

"Yes," Devon smiled, "I have the details here."

He handed over an envelope from his inside jacket pocket. It was imprinted with the name of a law firm, and Michael's name was written in elegant hand on the front. Michael took it and Devon stood up, urging Bonnie to her feet.

"We shan't take more of your time, Michael, Kitt," Devon said firmly, "I would only say that it may be a good idea to wear a suit to the lawyers?"

"Yes, ok," Michael nodded, and Kitt swished his scanner for lack of a more verbal response.

"And Michael, I was fascinated reading both of your thesis," Devon shook his hand, "It's not really my field, but I found the work highly accessible."

"Thanks, Devon," Michael moved to hold Bonnie's door open for her, ignoring her startled expression. Kitt didn't think he'd said a single word to her for the entirety of the visit. Kitt activated the garage door and Michael watched as Devon backed them out carefully, heading back for the Foundation.

"I was not expecting that," Michael said as the door rolled closed.

"Me either," Kitt replied, a little nonplussed.

0000

Kitt decreed that Michael's collection of slacks and sports jackets were not sufficiently suit like, so Michael had been made to go suit shopping, with a very sour look on his face. Kitt had further persuaded Michael that he was representing them both and needed to look the part. Kitt had smugly dropped him off at the appropriate store and Michael had engaged their privacy mode, grumbling all the way across the sidewalk to the door. Given that his Driver had not outright refused, or really argued about the suit, Kitt chose the better part of valour and respected Michael's request that he disconnect from the comm link. Michael returned with a suit bag and a lack of inclination to tell Kitt what he'd bought.

When Michael emerged from the bathroom two days later, Kitt was shocked. Michael had chosen a black suit, with a military cut, and wore a dark red dress shirt under it. Kitt's colours. He'd pared it with his black dress boots, carefully shined the night before.

"What do you think, partner? Did I get it right?" Michael asked coming to stand in front of the scanner. He was grinning, clearly pleased, his arms out slightly to let Kitt get the full effect.

"I love you," Kitt had definitely not meant to blurt it out at Michael, but he couldn't not tell his Driver what he was feeling right now. Michael had dressed this way for him, had specifically chosen to wear Kitt's colours to represent them both at the meeting today, "I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't …"

"Hey," Michael's face softened, "You're allowed to feel love. I've always supported you when it came to exploring your emotions, you know that."

"It's not right though," Kitt said in a small voice, "People won't understand how a car …"

"You're not a car," Michael interrupted again, frowning a little, "I'm sorry I ever called you a car."

"A computer then," Kitt wasn't going to have the 'you didn't know better' argument again, not when he'd just confessed something that Bonnie would find extremely deviant to his Driver.

"Kitt," Michael hitched his trousers and crouched in front of the scanner, "You are a person. You have a soul and feelings, and I am proud to be your Driver."

Kitt didn't say anything, well aware he may well have ruined their partnership no matter how calm Michael was now. Books and media all told the story of unrequited love and the misery it caused, over and over again. Michael waited, his still hand resting on the edge of the scanner, watching as Kitt slowly calmed down. He wasn't shouting, and he was touching Kitt, so whatever came next wouldn't be immediately devastating.

"Besides," Michael said after a moment, "I love you. I have for years. I couldn't tell you, you're too vulnerable to external abuse, and … well I've always tried to protect you from really strong emotions. I had to wait until you were ready to tell me yourself."

"You do?" Kitt breathed, hope starting to build. Michael smiled and shot his comm link out past his cuff, holding it up so Kitt could see. It was the one he'd custom built years ago, with black metal and a leather strap so it wouldn't shine or gleam in low light conditions. There were red bevels on the watch face, and Kitt had always thought it stylish. They'd chosen a deep case with a mechanism that needed minimal works to fit in all the electronics for the comm link, and Michael had built it over the course of two days, being surprisingly finicky about it. Kitt hadn't seen it off his Driver's wrist since he'd built it, not even on his wedding day.

"I chose your colours a long time ago," Michael murmured, "I just… didn't think you'd ever be ready to hear me say it."

"So you chose symbolic communication," Kitt realised, "Which I am not very good at sometimes."

"Besides, if anyone asked I had plenty of valid reasons to want to wear this version of the comm link to the one Bonnie gave us," Michael quirked a smile, "I can't tell you how happy I am you've told me Kitt."

"I'm sorry it took so long," Kitt sighed. Michael shook his head, shushing gently.

"You had to be ready, my dear," he smiled. Kitt flashed his scanner, pleased at the endearment, "These things can't be forced or contrived."

"We're going to be late," Kitt grumbled and Michael fixed his cuff, "Of all the times to have an appointment."

"It's said now," Michael reminded him, "And I won't take it back. We can work the rest out in time. You're right though, we can't tell Bonnie or Devon. They'll take it wrong."

"I know," Kitt replied, watching Michael rise easily to his feet, "But I don't need to tell people to be happy."

"Me either," Michael slid into his seat, "All I need is you, Kitt."

0000

Kitt chose to park on the street outside the lawyers, rather than a nearby parking garage, and Michael had walked inside as if it was any other case. He looked very trim and dapper in his new suit, and Kitt spent a moment admiring his Driver.

Devon was waiting inside, his voice sounding over the comm link. Miss Foyle, the deputy director of FLAG, though most people thought she was Devon's secretary, was also with him, and the three humans walked up the stairs to the floor the conference room was on. Michael had worn a small button cap camera on his shirt front and turned on the camera when they were in the conference room, so Kitt had limited visuals to go with the audio he was receiving. The long table was labelled with place names, and Michael was to be seated at the far end, with Devon to one side, his back to the wall, and Miss Knight to the other.

Michael had taught Kitt that the placement of people in a formal setting had significance, and Kitt started trying to work out what the lawyers were about to announce, given that Michael was clearly going to be the focus of this reading. Or at least that was what they wanted people to think.

After five years in the field, Kitt had become very suspicious of people who focused on Michael. It rarely ended well, in Kitt's experience. Michael was often hurt in some way, and his self repair function was terribly slow at times. Michael had said that paranoia was not a bad thing, as long as it wasn't taken too far, so Kitt had taken that as permission to exercise his protective instincts. While the people in the room milled around inefficiently (really, their names were right there, why not just sit down, why stand around and speculate to each other) Kitt spun up his surveillance mode, stretching it to the buildings around them, as well as the street and the interior of the building itself.

He was alarmed to realise that Jennifer Knight had a small gun hidden in her clothes. Michael held her seat for her politely and then sat down, flipping open the thick file he was handed by a secretary and angling the comm link camera so Kitt could scan the pages as he slowly turned page after page. Michael was capable of speed reading, so Kitt was positive that his Driver was taking in the cogent details as the pages turned. Kitt waited to process the images until Michael reached the end of the file. He noticed that Jennifer had shifted her seat further away from Michael, which concerned him.

"If we're ready then," the lawyer, a Mr Asquith, settled into his seat at the other end of the table, a much thicker file in front of him, and several people hovering behind him ready to distribute documents or fetch things. Kitt had never seen a will reading like this one. They'd seen one as part of a case, Michael attending to support their former client. It had been a simple affair and Michael and Kitt had driven the widow home afterwards. None of the elaborate arrangements they were seeing here had been in evidence. The Foundation had helped her sort out her affairs, as Michael and Kitt had been sent to the next mission.

"We're here to read through and enact the next relevant sections of the last will and testament of Wilton Knight," Mr Asquith had a deep plummy voice, which Kitt found pleasant to listen to. It was undoubtedly an asset in his work, as it gave him an air of authority and gravitas. Kitt tuned out the sound of several board members complaining that they were important and busy and focused his scan on an anomaly. There was a man on the top deck of the parking garage, ducked behind the wall that separated the cars on the top story from the street. It was an unusual posture for that time and place, so Kitt concentrated his scan to see if the man was changing a tire. He was not, but there was metal with him, in a case.

"If there are no further interjections?" Mr Asquith's tone had taken on a dry edge, and silence was the reply, "Very well, let us proceed to the first part of the reading, which pertains to the resources devoted to Knight Industries, and the personnel employed there. Mr Wilton Knight stipulated that Knight Industries needed to meet certain milestones in order to receive the additional monetary assets, which Miss Knight has proven to…"

Kitt had already disengaged his parking brake and was rolling silently towards the parking building, his scanners struggling a little with the angle and materials of the building. He kept an eye on the cameras Michael was wearing as he eased inside and increased his speed, moving quickly up the first floor. As he reached the second the shape the man had made as he fitted the pieces together became clear.

"Shooter!" Kitt shouted through the comm link, and watched Michael launch himself at Miss Knight, taking her to the floor as the glass in the window exploded and a bullet impacted the table where Devon had been sitting moments before. Michael rolled, pulling Miss Knight under the table towards the outer wall, where the shooter would not be able to aim. There was a muffled pop and Michael's vital signs spiked as he gasped with pain. There was the sound of a scuffle and Kitt almost rammed a car reversing from its spot as he watched Michael snatch the gun from her hand on the button cam.

"Devon, you hit?" Michael asked tensely while people around them threw themselves to the floor or ran for the door. Several more shots slammed into the room and a man fell.

"No, we're fine," Devon replied. Kitt flung himself into the ramp leading to the third floor, swerving around a slower moving driver.

"Michael, you're hit!" Miss Foyle gasped. Kitt was too busy racing towards the shooters position to do more than use a swear word Michael had taught him: fortunately he didn't broadcast it over the comm link.

"Miss Knight shot me," Michael replied, "It's a graze though, I'll be fine. Here, take this would you?"

There was a sound of a gun being cleared while Devon scolded Jennifer Knight soundly. Kitt slewed around the turn and up the next ramp, intent on getting to the shooter and pinning him to the wall (non fatally, Michael would never forgive him if he killed the man). He could hear the four humans moving, Michael's breath a little sharper than normal.

"Kitt, where are you?" Michael asked as more shots slammed into the room. By now, his signal was beneath the windows, the safest place in the room as the shooter couldn't get through brick with this calibre of ammunition, and they were below his lowest parabola.

"Almost at the top deck of the parking structure where our shooter is, Michael. I intend to attempt to pin him to the wall," Kitt reported, "Or at the very least, make him abandon his vantage point."

"Be careful, pal," Michael warned, "We don't know if he has any high calibre weaponry with him."

"I am scanning for such a thing," Kitt assured his Driver as he almost launched himself off the end of the ramp, his tires leaving tread behind as he scorched towards the shooter. He'd been in silent mode before, but now he disengaged that and let his engine roar in warning as he arrowed towards the man in a sports coat and jeans, kneeling with a high powered rifle propped on top of the wall. The parked cars were a blur as Kitt slashed between them and the sound of the engine made the man turn to look, the gun slipping to the deck. Kitt had already called 911, and now he tapped into dispatch, advising of the gun lying unattended (but not easily visible to the casual observer) on the roof deck.

Kitt captured a picture of his face for later identification and shouted, "He's dropped the rifle, go!"

The comm link mic picked up the sound of Michael urging those who could move to get into the hallway and then deeper into the building. Kitt's target bolted as Kitt braked the chassis, an impressive amount of smoke rising from her tyres. His quarry darted to the side, between the wall and other parked cars. Kitt couldn't risk impacting with them as he couldn't control the force they rebounded in his prey's direction. If he caused serious injury while operating independently they would be in trouble, and they didn't need more of that right now. Instead he slammed into reverse, spun her around and chased the man down the aisle, his engine snarling.

Kitt wasn't sure if the man knew there was no one in the chassis or not, his windows were darkened, but he knew the man was aware that the driver of the vehicle was not trying to hurt him, as he chose to keep other cars in between him and his pursuer. Kitt had to brake sharply to avoid an oblivious driver who pulled out of their spot, which afforded his prey a chance to slip into the emergency stairs.

"Lunatic!" screamed the man who'd blocked Kitt's way, and Kitt took a picture of him as well in case he was an accomplice and not just too criminally incapable to observe the world around him.

"Idiot!" Kitt snarled back and darted around the stalled hunk of junk, racing back to the ramp and slinging the chassis down it. He couldn't detect his quarry on this level, and there were still footsteps in the stairs, so Kitt updated dispatch, hoping the units that were just arriving would divert and cover the ground floor exit of the emergency stairs.

The man who'd blocked him had followed Kitt and was revving and darting his car at Kitt's rear fender. Kitt ignored him, having more important things to do than deal with an ill timed episode of road rage. Kitt swung down to the next level, again scanning for any pedestrians meeting the body type of the man he was chasing, and when there was no match, dropping to the next level as well. Dispatch reported that the first responders were covering the exits to the stairs, and by the time Kitt reached them, the suspect was gone. Kitt pulled up near the cops, who had pounced on a very frightened woman who had the bad luck to emerge from the stairs first. Kitt took a picture of her as well, for further background checking.

"Hey ass hole!" Kitt's road rage driver screamed, and tapped on the passenger window with a sawn off shotgun. He was overly muscled, had bleach blond and wore too tight clothing, and Kitt suspected he was a steroid user. He also clearly hadn't learned to pay attention in the few minutes that he'd been chasing Kitt.

"Gun!" Kitt shouted to the police, who proceeded to swarm all over Kitt's harasser. The look of shock and then fear on the man's face was very engaging, and Kitt saved a picture of that too, knowing that Michael would appreciate it. While the arrest was going on, Kitt called the comm link, wanting to hear Michael's voice. Michael had switched off the button camera, which wouldn't have shown Kitt much anyway.

"You alright, partner?" Michael asked, his vitals still showing that he was in pain.

"I am, though the shooter has eluded me, I'm sorry Michael," Kitt confessed, "How bad is your wound?"

"It's not your fault," Michael replied wearily, "I'm not hurt badly. The paramedics are here and Devon wants me to see them. Do we have the gun secured?"

"No, I'm going up again now to ensure no one touches it," Kitt backed the chassis away from the drama in front of him, heading at a less dangerous pace back to the top deck.

"Devon is crossing the road now, he said he'll join you up there. Miss Foyle is escorting Miss Knight to the police now, with her gun. I'll be with you as soon as I get a band aid and an ice pack."

"I'd rather you had your wound properly treated," Kitt told him quietly, "And if you were shot, why do you need an ice pack?"

Not that you couldn't use an ice pack to cool a bullet wound, but there should be no heat or infection at this early stage. If Michael went to hospital they would be able to properly clean the wound and infection could be avoided altogether. An ice pack was not normal, and if Kitt was given to metaphors he'd say his alarm bells were ringing at the mention of it. Alarm bells that Michael justified when he next spoke.

"I protected Miss Knight's head when we went down, and hit the floor pretty hard. My hand is a little swollen," Michael confessed reluctantly, "Look, I'll see what the medics say, ok partner? If they want me to go in I will, I promise."

"Thank you, Michael," Kitt let his gratitude leak through his tone. Michael still hated hospitals, but provided that the bullet wound was as minor as Michael and Miss Foyle seemed to think, he wouldn't need to stay the night. Kitt didn't think his Driver would be hospitalised for a bruised hand.

The gun was still where it had been dropped, and Kitt parked so he could see it and the people around him easily. Devon joined him only three minutes later, jogging from the stairwell and coming to stand next to the gun, peering down at it without touching.

"The police will be here in a moment," Devon told Kitt, "But I wanted to see it for myself. Good work getting him to stop shooting."

"Were there any fatalities?" Kitt asked, realising he hadn't checked earlier. He wondered if that would be held against them. After today he was sure that both his and Michael's actions would be closely examined.

"No," Devon shook his head, "Although there was a critical injury to one of the board members, a Mr Franklin. The other gun shot injury was serious, but the woman wasn't critical when I came out here."

"I see," Kitt murmured, "The police are about to arrive, Devon, please step away from the weapon. They have already had to arrest an armed citizen experiencing road rage, and I don't want you hurt."

Devon moved to stand beside Kitt's front fender, putting Kitt between him and the gun. He pointed it out to the police, who were clearly expecting him to be there. Kitt watched as the gun was inspected from a distance, and then a forensics technician arrived and documented the scene.

"Kitt, I'll go to the hospital," Michael said over the comm link, sounding cranky, "I'll call when I'm leaving, ok?"

"I'll be there," Kitt promised, and informed Devon that Michael was headed for the hospital. Kitt monitored the comm link as it began travelling away from him glumly. Devon nodded, watching the police intently for a moment, and then turning to Kitt.

"I need to check on what has happened with Miss Foyle, and Miss Knight," Devon sighed and Kitt opened his passenger door in invitation. Devon smiled and slid in, closing the door and watching as Kitt piloted them back to the ground floor in a very demure manner.

"Road rage incident?" Devon asked as the chassis rolled through the rows of parked cars. Kitt recounted the tale, surprised when Devon chuckled at the end.

"Steroids do indeed have a poor effect on people," he shook his head, "A well deserved end. After all, his next victim won't be protected in a bullet proof vehicle."

"I hadn't considered that," Kitt murmured. While there had been no way for the over dosed body builder to hurt Kitt, a civilian would have been in real danger.

"If you could give me a recount of events from your point of view," Devon added as they reached the street level and Kitt moved to park in the space he'd had before, "Via email will be sufficient, Kitt, if you please. I suspect that we will be dealing with fallout of this incident for a few days before the will reading is able to be rescheduled."

"Do you have a sense of who the target was?" Kitt asked, "The first shot landed between you and Michael, however it was also in line with Miss Knight."

"No I don't," Devon frowned, "So we will all need to take precautions until we are sure who it was. And in addition, we must deal with Miss Knight's shooting of Michael."

"I detected the weapon but was unable to alert him," Kitt fretted, "It was in part the reason I started scanning for additional threats. I have scans of the buildings, and recordings of the shooting and wind direction. I will see if I can work up a threat assessment for you as well, Devon, and email it to you."

"Thank you Kitt," Devon nodded. Running footsteps sounded, and Kitt was pleased to realise that RC was arriving. He must have gotten a lift with someone, or taken a taxi as Kitt hadn't heard the sound of his personal vehicle. The motorbike was loud and it's safety features were inadequate in Kitt's opinion, but RC was attached to it.

"Kitt, I heard what happened, is everyone ok?" RC asked and Devon got out of the chassis, smiling at the young man warmly.

"There were some injuries, but no fatalities," Kitt told his junior partner, "Unfortunately, Michael was injured. RC: Devon may have been the target. Would you ensure his safety please?"

"Sure, Kitt," RC nodded, moving to stand beside Devon, who appeared startled to be assigned a bodyguard, "Where's Michael?"

"In the ER, being treated," Kitt sighed, "He says he's not badly hurt."

"The wound to his side was not deep," Devon said quietly, "I wouldn't have left him alone if I thought he was seriously hurt."

"How did he get hit?" RC asked, clearly distressed.

"Miss Knight shot him after he moved her from the shooters line of sight," Kitt said sourly, "If you don't mind, RC…"

"Go," RC interrupted, "I have one of Bonnie's comm links, call me on that if you need me, Kitt. Or if you want a pair of hands to wrangle Michael. I mean, he'll probably not need it, but…"

"We all know how he is," Devon smiled, "Indeed Reginald, he can be difficult when it comes to escaping medical attention."

"Thank you," Kitt murmured, "Devon, I want your word you'll let RC watch over you."

RC was all had Kitt had to ensure Devon's safety, and his junior partner would be less likely to be injured if he wasn't fighting with Devon and any assailant at the same time.

"You have my word," Devon said, "Once I am sure we are secure, we will leave the area."

"Miss Foyle has left a message for you at the front desk, I believe," Kitt directed, "I will speak with you both later."

He didn't make any promises about seeing them, as he wanted to take Michael home. His Driver would be safe in their garage, and Kitt was experiencing a powerful need to see Michael among their belongings.

It turned out that Michael had broken two bones in his left hand when it had cushioned the impact of Miss Knight's head against the floor, saving her a concussion at least. He'd rolled them both beneath the table, and she'd shot him as they moved, the small calibre bullet passing all the way through the muscles in Michael's side. It was a shallow wound, but it had needed to be flushed and then stitched. Michael had insisted that the nurse move the comm link to his right wrist before taking x rays and applying the orthopaedic brace to his broken hand, so Kitt had only experienced less than a minute out of contact with his Driver's vital signs. One very large needle of antibiotics and a filled prescription for more, and Michael was walking out of the hospital, to where Kitt was parked a few feet from the door.

"Oh dear," Kitt tutted as Michael got in, "That is going to be inconvenient."

"At least I can shower with the brace," Michael grumbled, "And if you don't mind driving for a while…"

"You know I don't," Kitt informed him, suiting actions to words, "I'm calling RC to let him know I have you, and informing Devon that we are headed for home and will see him tomorrow."

"Thanks partner," Michael sighed, "Please let Devon know I'll give him my report in person."

"Will do," Kitt agreed. He'd already composed his email and sent it off. He intended to perform the ballistics analysis tonight while Michael slept.

"Given the circumstances, shall we hit a drive through tonight?" Kitt suggested and Michael grimaced.

"The pain killers are making me queasy," he confessed. It was a common reaction, unfortunately, "We've got bread at home, and cheese."

"There is even tinned tomato soup," Kitt agreed, knowing that comfort food was a good antidote to the queasiness, "Soup and grilled cheese sandwiches would be an acceptable meal, if you think you're up to preparing it."

"I am," Michael nodded, "I want a shower and change of clothes too. And this suit is a write off. You won't mind if I just… putter around?"

"I do not, you know that," Kitt reminded him. There were times when Michael just wound down and performed a series of self maintaining tasks without interacting a lot with Kitt. The AI was always pleased to watch his Driver's stress levels drop as he did.

Kitt armed their perimeter alarms the moment they were home, and Michael went to shower, change into sweat pants and a tee shirt, then make and consume his evening meal. The destroyed suit was dropped into the garbage bin with a grimace. He loaded the dishwasher and then pulled a winter blanket out from the linen cupboard, wandering over to Kitt.

"Can I sleep in the chassis?" he asked sleepily, and Kitt opened the door at once. Reaching up to unstow the bed would be very uncomfortable for his Driver, and if he was in the chassis Kitt could monitor him closely and be assured that he was even more protected than the perimeter alarms could provide. Michael wrapped the blanket around his shoulders and shuffled into Kitt's side.

"I'd feel better if you did," Kitt closed and locked the door as Michael settled into his seat, the blanket wrapped around him comfortably. Kitt lowered the seat back and Michael sighed, shifting so the broken hand was propped on his chest, in an effort to reduce the swelling a little.

"I'm always safe with you," Michael muttered, "Good night Kitt. Love you."

"I love you, good night," Kitt replied, and Michael fell asleep between one breath and the next. That was to be expected, his Driver tended to sleep quite heavily in the immediate aftermath of an injury, what with the adrenaline dump and pain medications. Kitt spent several minutes watching Michael's sleep, and then turned to the ballistics analysis that he'd promised Devon. He wanted to get to the bottom of who was attempting to halt the pending legal proceedings as soon as possible.

0000

Devon had requested their presence at the Foundation, and warned that Jennifer Knight would be there as well. Kitt told his Driver he wouldn't be allowed out of the chassis if the woman was armed, but Devon had heard and assured Michael they would ensure that she was not carrying any weapons at all. In the end, Kitt had parked himself in Bay 3 and Devon had agreed to meet the AI and his Driver there.

Michael had chosen his softest blue flannel shirt, rolled the cuffs back to give the brace on his hand and wrist the least compression, and a pair of dark jeans. April and RC had met them at the garage, and Michael perched comfortably on Kitt's hood, his broken hand tucked up against his chest, one foot dangling above the floor, to talk with them. RC and April both wanted to know what was going on with the will, and Kitt realised that he'd still not processed the images that Michael had sent him via the comm link. He'd been too involved in his analysis last night, and the few chips that weren't had been watching over Michael as he'd slept.

Devon opened the side door and stepped aside to let Miss Knight in, and RC moved to stand between her and April, while Kitt deployed his sensors to ensure that she was indeed unarmed. Bonnie came and joined them, and Miss Knight seemed surprised to see so many people waiting for her.

"Good morning," Michael said calmly, nodding to Devon, "Devon, how is Mr Franklin this morning?"

"He's stable, and should recover," Devon nodded, "As will the others who were injured."

"Good," Michael nodded, "Kitt, you were performing analysis on the shooter last night. Do you have any findings?"

Michael, it seemed, was going to ignore the issue of being shot by their mentor's daughter, and Kitt reluctantly followed his lead. For now, anyway. He deployed his projector, aimed at the far wall.

"If I can direct your attention to the footage," Kitt said blandly, "As you can see, the shooter was a white male, mid to late thirties. Searches of federal databases matched this face to that of a known assassin for hire, one Robert Phaeton. He has an extensive list of suspected deaths laid at his door and eight confirmed kills. The FBI have been tracing several alias's and I have connected one to a bank account, that was paid a sum of $250,000 the day before the shooting."

"Did you manage to back trace the payment?" Michael asked, watching the corroborating data flicker past with interest. Miss Knight's vital signs were no more disturbed than when she first arrived, so Kitt didn't think she was concerned she was about to be found out as the person behind the hiring of the shooter.

"I am working on it now, but I have had to suspend my analysis during business hours. It is easier for the network administrators to notice me then. I will resume my work tonight," Kitt confessed. The footage changed to the pictures of the woman who'd come out of the stairs, and the man who'd threatened Kitt with a modified shotgun.

"The woman is not a known associate of Phaeton, and my research has eliminated her from suspicion. She was merely in the wrong place at the wrong time," Kitt removed her image, "The male is also not involved with Phaeton, but he has several warrants out for his arrest for a variety of violent crimes, all committed with illegal weapons. He has been arraigned and bail was denied. A man died in the commission of one of his crimes, and it seems he was getting more and more violent. It was perhaps fortunate he over used his steroids and chased me down that morning."

"At least the gun wouldn't have caused harm to you Kitt," April sighed, "Though I can't imagine it would be pleasant to be shot no matter how bullet proof you are."

Michael grinned at her, rolling his eyes, "If the spent bullet scuffs the MBS I don't hear the end of it until he's had a full wash and shine."

Kitt resisted the urge to bounce his suspension, mindful of the barely knitted wounds in Michael's side, "Scuff marks may make my chassis stand out among other, well maintained vehicles," he said primly. RC nodded in support and Kitt flicked his scanner at the young man in thanks.

"Do we know who was being aimed at?" Bonnie asked, glancing at Devon in concern. Kitt switched to the graphics he'd generated last night, aware that Michael's interest was firmly captured now. Michael took the safety of the people around him very seriously, often to his own detriment.

"That is harder to discern," Kitt said, "As you can see, our assassin had an ideal location for his attempt, however I identified him before he was able to finish his alignment of the shot. My alarm to Michael sent both him and Miss Knight out of their positions, and the assassin was unable to rectify in time. In addition, Devon also moved quickly, partly because Miss Foyle grabbed him and pulled, which also put him out of position. The shot landed in the table, and may have penetrated into Devon's leg had Miss Foyle not pulled him aside as she had. From the parabola's of the shots that followed, I believe the assassin decided to obfuscate his target by firing into the room at random, causing as much fear and chaos as possible. By that time all three of you were out of sight, and very quickly out of his reach, despite Miss Knight choosing to shoot Michael."

Kitt had cycled through several graphics, showing each of the three androgynous figures in the set up as potential targets. He had the taste not to use actual footage, knowing that Miss Knight would probably take offence and use it as an excuse to cause further trouble. His final bland statement was one he had to make, as he wasn't going to let her get away without at least some sort of explanation.

There was a moment of rather pointed silence, where Michael shifted so that both feet were on the floor and he was facing towards Miss Knight, though he didn't say anything either.

"I too would like an explanation for your actions," Devon said drily, "If only so we can eliminate you from our enquiries."

"I would never hire an assassin!" she exclaimed, outraged. Also, if Kitt was any judge of the matter, somewhat defensive. Silence stretched on, with Devon's expression making it clear that he was still waiting for his explanation. The atmosphere rapidly turned uncomfortable, as evidenced by the tension Kitt was detecting in his Driver and their partner. RC got a look on his face, and Kitt was sure something irreverent had just occurred to him.

"You know, I'm starting to think that we need to wrap Michael in Kevlar, if not cotton wool at this point. Of all the people to label a damsel in distress, I wasn't thinking of him," RC said to April, who grinned, smothering a giggle, "That, or we need to find him a less dangerous job… or maybe a bodyguard."

"Oh RC," Michael pretended to gasp, clutching his chest, "Finally a big strong man has come to protect me."

"Mwah, darling," RC blew an exaggerated kiss to Michael who pretended to swoon. April laughed and wrapped her arms around RC's waist possessively.

"Back off Driver-boy. This one's mine," she informed Michael.

"Driver-boy, really?" Kitt questioned her and she nodded firmly.

"Despite the obvious attempt to gain sympathy, he's clearly not badly hurt," Miss Knight sniped, and Michael sobered.

"I'm elevating my hand to try and get the swelling down," he informed her, "But if it bothers you…"

Michael lowered his hand to his lap, and RC and April both objected at once, April going so far as to come over and gently raise the hand back to it's former place, inspecting Michael's fingers, which were swollen.

"This needs an ice pack," she informed him, sliding to sit on the hood beside him. One arm went around his back, the other hand clasping Michael's undamaged one.

"When we get home I intend to park him on the couch with one," Kitt informed her, "There is a preseason game marathon on the TV today, which will keep him in one place while we manage the injury. We may even hit the drive through on the way home."

"Now I kinda want to go home with you," RC muttered as Michael's face lit up with interest. They didn't get to watch a lot of sport and relax together, and Michael knew that Kitt wanted some time with them in one place, doing something that wasn't mission critical. Tea and sympathy was hard to dispense when you were mounted in a car, so Michael would play along with Kitt's requests.

"I'm still waiting Miss Knight," Devon reminded her, ignoring the by-play.

"You don't understand," Miss Knight said desperately, "All my life my brother has bullied and hurt me, and he looks just like him! When he launched himself at me, I thought that he was going to hurt me, that the threat of a sniper was a ploy."

"What?" Bonnie looked nonplussed, which seemed to be the predominant reaction. Michael tensed, his dismay and distaste easily discernible to Kitt.

"Why on earth would Michael want to hurt you? He doesn't have anything to do with you. And besides, he's nothing like Garth," April objected, holding onto Michael more tightly, "They don't speak the same way, they move differently, they smell different."

"You'd better be talking about my aftershave," Micheal mumbled in embarrassment. She kissed his cheek in reply.

"Garth abducted Devon and I years ago," April continued, glaring at Miss Knight fiercely, "Your brother said he'd spare my life if I slept with him, though not in so many words. Do you think that if Michael reminded me of Garth in any way, I'd be here now? They're two different people, and I can't believe you're so lazy as to not spend time with him and work it out."

"Hey, it's ok," Michael squeezed her hand, and April huffed, clearly not appeased, "It doesn't matter why she shot me, not really. We can't press charges anyway."

"What?" Bonnie objected, "Michael, you were trying to save her life!"

"If I press charges, that makes a huge problem for the Foundation," Michael replied, "It puts the board in direct conflict with Devon, and that jeopardises FLAG. We'd have to mount a legal case against Miss Knight's defence, which may mean revealing that my name is not Knight, and that this face is not the one I was born with. If my original name comes out, that puts my little brother and his family at risk, and it potentially opens the door for criminals who were prosecuted because of Michael Knight to appeal. Because if we were lying about my name, what else did we lie about? I can't force the DA to not take up the case themselves, but I can't press charges for myself."

"You're right," Devon didn't look pleased about it though. Neither was Kitt. He hadn't even considered that aspect of their situation. Both RC and April looked appalled, and so did Miss Knight, probably at the thought of what the board would say if the situation progressed further.

"I'll contact the PD and inform them I'm not pressing charges. They want to take my statement anyway," Michael sighed, "I was going there after this."

"Provided she didn't shoot you again," Kitt muttered, deliberately. Michael grinned even as Bonnie startled and RC chuckled.

"I'd have protected him," RC advised Kitt.

"I'm not your enemy!" Miss Knight snapped.

"You're not his friend either," April retorted before anyone else could speak, "If you can't be bothered to learn about the man your father hand picked to work with FLAG, that isn't on us, or him!"

April evidently had decided that someone needed to stand up for Michael, and had appointed herself the role. It was refreshing to see, and Kitt was pleased there was someone else in the world who valued Michael enough to protect him. RC would fight for and with him, but that was different to protecting him from the everyday harms that came his way. Kitt made a note to get April a very nice birthday present this year in appreciation. Miss Knight looked a little crestfallen in response to April's jab and Devon sighed almost silently.

"We need to decide what our next moves will be," he informed the people in the garage, and Kitt could hear the weariness in his voice.

"Are the lawyers looking to reschedule?" Michael asked, pleased to get off the topic of Garth and their physical similarities.

"They are," Devon nodded.

"We should have the reading here then, where we can control security and access," Michael suggested, "Kitt will need more time to follow the money, and until we have that information we won't be able to work out who hired this guy. The FBI and the PD are both looking for him, right?"

"Yes Michael," Kitt confirmed, "Although I suspect he has gone to ground to find another opportunity. Until we know who the target was, all three of you will need to be extremely careful."

"I'm not planning to leave the grounds," Devon advised Michael, "And Miss Knight is welcome to stay with us until we know more, should she wish to."

"Bonnie, has there been any attempt to crack the Foundation's network?" Michael nodded to Devon in acknowledgement, "I'm wondering if he has access to home addresses or security arrangements."

"Nothing has been reported," Bonnie frowned, "But I will double check, and ensure the network is on a higher footing."

"Thanks," Michael squeezed April's hand and she let go, standing when he did, "If there is nothing else, then I'll head to the PD and then home myself. Devon, let me know the details?"

"I will," Devon nodded, "Did you save the suit Michael?"

"No, between the bullet holes, the blood stains and the cuts in the trouser legs from crawling through glass it was a write off. Not to mention they cut the suit arm to get my hand out of it," Michael sighed, "I hate suits for a reason you know. My jeans would have been salvageable."

"You'll still need one for the meeting," Devon sympathised, "Perhaps I can get a reimbursement for you, as it was destroyed saving Knight Industries majority shareholder."

Everyone looked at Miss Knight rather pointedly, who blushed uncomfortably under the scrutiny.

"I'll send a replacement over," she muttered, and Michael thanked her pleasantly. Kitt opened the driver's side door and the meeting broke up.

"That lady is a piece of work," Kitt summed up as he coasted down the drive. Michael shook his head.

"She's been terrorised by a man wearing this face all her life," he corrected Kitt, "I don't like the way she chose to handle it, but I can understand it a little."

"You are too patient with people sometimes partner," Kitt replied, frustration lacing his voice, "I both love and hate that about you."

0000

As promised, Kitt did run them through a drive through, and 'park' Michael on the couch, his hand protected by a dishtowel and ice packs both on top and below it. He rested his hand on the back of the couch, his arm outstretched, and toed off his shoes, one leg also stretched out on the couch cushions, the other resting comfortably on the floor.

Michael used the laptop to compose and send his own report, read through Kitt's and check their email accounts, then put the machine on the coffee table and resumed his slouch. By evening he looked very comfortable, and Kitt had saved several images to permanent storage.

"Shall I take you out to dinner?" Kitt asked as Michael switched off at the end of the game, "The swelling is finally down and I don't want you to use your fingers if you can avoid it."

"Good thing it's not my dominant hand," Michael mused, "And if you take me out to dinner should I dress for a date?"

Kitt hadn't considered how that would sound when he'd said it, but now he was intrigued by the idea of taking Michael out for a pleasant evening. The chassis limited much of the traditional ideas for a date, as did Kitt's lack of need for food or drink.

"I don't know," Kitt mused, "I wasn't planning anything formal. I was hoping we could agree on a venue that would allow you to eat something healthy."

"Hmm," Michael sat up, and shoved his feet back into his shoes, "I have an idea, if you'd trust me, partner?"

"Of course," Kitt backed the chassis to its traditional parking spot while Michael located his keys and wallet, strolling to the drivers side door. He slid into his usual seat, and Kitt opened the garage door, backing her out and heading for the road. Michael gave verbal directions, and they ended up at a park, where several other cars had pulled in, with people setting up blankets on the grass in front of them, or chairs and small fold-able tables. Michael parked so that Kitt had a good view of the centre of the arrangement, and then wandered off to visit a food vendor that had set up to the side. The meal wasn't wholly unhealthy, so Kitt didn't complain when his Driver returned and perched on the hood, long legs crossed at the ankle and his meal on his lap.

There was a group of humans in the centre of the arrangement, all with musical instruments, and Kitt realised they were attending an open air concert, playing the sort of music that he preferred. The AI was touched that his partner had noticed such a thing occurring, and would take Kitt to one, as the music wasn't really in Michael's taste. Indeed, his Driver dozed off during one of the performances, and Kitt was amused to see several people point him out with smiles to each other. Michael didn't sleep the whole way through though, and when the concert ended he took his trash to a receptacle and walked back to Kitt, a lazy smile on his face.

"I noticed an advertisement for it when I was signing off after sending my report," Michael said as he got back into the chassis, "And it's not a good spot for snipers or anything, so I thought you might enjoy it."

"I did, very much," Kitt replied. He kept the engine off as they were currently blocked in at the rear, "And I managed to stay awake for the whole performance too."

Michael laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, "Would you let me claim it was due to the pain killers?"

Given that the drugs did indeed make his Driver sleepy, Kitt was willing to concede that, and told Michael so. It hadn't bothered him that Michael had dozed off either, given how flattered Kitt was that Michael would take him on a date. The cars behind them finally cleared out and Kitt started her up, reversing cautiously.

"Thank you Michael," Kitt murmured as he got her back onto the road, "I will have to research our next date venue."

"No rush," Michael smiled, "Hell, being parked on the couch for an afternoon with you was pleasant too."

"It was," Kitt agreed, "We get very little time together that isn't busy."

"Well with my hand in a brace, we'll get a bit more time," Michael sighed, "Even if I do sense a tonne of paperwork looming in my future."

"Do you want me to read through the documents you scanned with the comm link?" Kitt asked as he negotiated the light evening traffic, "I haven't looked into it yet."

"You were going to have another go at that bank tonight, weren't you?" Michael asked, glancing in the side mirror, "I think that's more important."

"We've picked up a tail," Kitt confirmed, "And yes I did intend to hack the banks systems tonight."

"Alright, well the documents can wait," Michael replied, "If you email me the file, I can read it myself tomorrow. I was thinking more about the paperwork for buying the place next door. See if you can lose this clown at the next light, partner."

"The building is quite run down," Kitt mused, "And needs significant work. Shall I head for the freeway?"

"Yes, we can probably outrun them, even if that car is modified for speed. See the modified suspension and intakes?" Michael nodded, "The building is overpriced in my opinion. I mean, I can tell the facade needs replacing, and I'm not too sure about the roof. The windows aren't energy efficient either."

They'd had a case where a developer had promised highly energy efficient buildings and then cut corners to use cheaper less efficient material, pocketing the difference. Michael had liked the idea of paying less to heat or cool a building, and he and Kitt had since used their annual refurbishments of their various properties to replace and install better insulation and windows.

"Indeed," Kitt sent her into a sliding turn, cutting ruthlessly through the gap between two cars and bounced her over the rumble strips and onto the freeway, taking their pursuers by surprise. He managed to dodge around several slower moving cars and a truck before their tail even made it to the freeway, opening a significant gap.

"I can schedule an inspection, if you think its worth looking at? You're right about the roof," Kitt swerved calmly through a run of slower moving cars, and Michael tapped his lips, glancing in the rear view mirror. The gap between them was getting bigger.

"I think it is, if only because repairing it will have a positive impact on the values of the properties around it," Michael nodded, "Once we get past the next exit I want you to floor it for two miles to the emergency services turning point and swing us back the other way."

"Good idea," Kitt agreed, flooring it as suggested, "And I had not considered the impact it was having on our own property values."

"It's the worst building on the street," Michael shook his head, "We'll need to get estimates for repairs before we put an offer in, if only so we can take that into consideration before setting a price."

Kitt swung them into a hairpin turn, deploying his passive restraint system to keep Michael from slamming into the door, and pushed them onto the emergency shoulder, tucking in beside an eighteen wheeler headed in the opposite direction. Kitt accessed his inbuilt CB radio and contacted the driver, telling him they were being chased by a gang of young men with guns and asking if they could stay in his shadow. The driver agreed, and by the time the car tailing them caught up, Kitt and Michael were safely out of sight.

"Now that's how you lose a tail," Michael complimented Kitt, "Nice driving partner."

"Thank you Michael," Kitt replied, then thanked the truck driver, dropping back into the lane behind the trailer and then changing lanes and passing him, heading back into the city and for home.

0000

Michael had agreed to inform Devon about the tail, but waited until they were home to preempt any scolding for going out in the first place. Kitt did think they'd been a little reckless, but at the time he'd been focused solely on their first acknowledged date. He made a note that dates should be reserved for when people weren't trying to kill Michael, and resolved to do better.

The lawyers had agreed to reschedule the meeting at the Foundation, and to allow FLAG to provide security, including screening the attendee's for weapons. Michael had already dropped the charges against Miss Knight, to the chagrin of the PD who had been keen to prosecute her as a PR coup. Michael had made it clear that he would be testifying on her side against any prosecution, and the DA had backed down.

He and Kitt had inspected and put in an offer on the building next door, and were waiting to hear back from the seller. In the meantime Kitt had finished his hack of the bank, and discovered that the money had come from an anonymous overseas account, which he was now trying to violate the privacy of to determine who owned it. The account wasn't in a place famous for tax shelters or privacy laws, so Kitt was finding it tricky but not impossible to follow the money trail.

Miss Knight had chosen not to stay at the Foundation, instead making arrangements for her own security. Devon had reported no unusual activity around the Foundation, and Kitt was of the opinion that Michael was the target. Michael was still reserving judgement on that for some reason. He had read the Will, and the contents had surprised him, but Kitt still hadn't accessed the scans himself. Michael had promised that the terms were very favourable to them, and sent documentation and records over to the lawyers related to the Will, but hadn't been inclined to discuss it further. As Kitt was mostly unpicking various banking systems, and trusted his partner implicitly, he hadn't bothered to read the Will for himself.

On the day of the meeting, Kitt had suggested that they go early to the Foundation, to put anyone who was looking for them off track. Michael had agreed, tired of being cooped up in their garage, and they'd packed a bag with a second change of clean clothes. Devon had confirmed that Miss Knight had sent a suit for Michael, and Kitt's Driver went to his downstairs room, to change. With Michael moved out of the mansion permanently, Devon had kept the downstairs room as a sort of office for Michael on the rare occasions he spent any length of time there.

"There is a suit bag here," Michael seemed surprised, as if he hadn't believed Miss Knight's intentions, "And a pair of shoes as well."

"Are you going to give me a description, or do I have to guess?" Kitt asked.

"Shit, Kitt. This is Armani. It's a thousand dollar suit," Michael sounded frightened of it, "I can't wear this!"

"Why not?" Kitt was confused and rolled the chassis from where they had parked to the grass and around the side of the building, heading for Michael's room. A quick search of Armani's brand showed a very stylish catalogue, and Kitt wondered what she had sent over for the man she had shot. If this was her idea of apologising, it was a handsome gesture.

"It's too expensive!" Michael protested. Although they were technically very wealthy, Michael's taste for expensive things had not changed at all. He still preferred function over fashion, and would wear clothes until they fell apart. Many of his socks had holes in them, and Kitt was forever telling him to throw out things that had been torn or ripped in their cases. Miss Knight's handsome gesture was wasted on a man with simple tastes. His Driver wasn't cheap, Michael would spend money where it was warranted to ensure that his gear was durable and practical, but never he was never expensive for the sake of it.

"Michael, you're a snob," Kitt informed him, "Now shut up and get dressed. I want to see what you look like in a really good suit."

Michael laughed, but complied with Kitt's request. There was a bit of grumbling when it came to changing socks and shoes, but that was more about the discomfort he felt with the hand in the brace.

"Even the socks are silk," Michael complained, "Feels weird."

"I do hope that you are wearing them though, the pair you put on this morning was close to developing a large hole in the heel," Kitt replied prosaically, "It would be an insult to a good suit to wear socks with holes in them."

"Alright," Michael sighed and opened the french doors, "Don't laugh, ok?"

Kitt was not about to laugh. The suit was stunning. It was black, and the shirt under it was red silk. It had been tailored at the waist, showing an extremely trim and athletic figure. The trousers were pleated at the front, but fell stylishly to Michael's shoes, which were round toed and black leather.

"I am experiencing a very strong emotional reaction to the sight of you in that suit, Michael," Kitt informed him, "Laughing is the last thing I want to do."

Michael blushed, ducking his head.

"Don't be shy," Kitt murmured, "You look wonderful."

"Thanks partner," Michael mumbled. Before he could regain his composure there was a knock at his door.

"Michael?" it was April, and Kitt called for her to come in. Her eyes widened when she saw him, and her hands came up to cover her mouth. RC was just behind her, wearing a suit of his own, though not a thousand dollar one.

"Oh Michael, you look amazing!" she squealed. Michael blushed deeper, running a hand over the back of his neck.

"Actually, April, would you mind helping with the cuffs?" he held his hands out like a child and she slid her fingers beneath each cuff, pulling the sleeve down enough to fasten them and then lining them up with the end of the suit arms.

'Looking sharp, RC," Michael grinned, and RC rolled his eyes. The navy suit and white shirt looked natural on him, and Kitt flashed his scanner in agreement.

"All of security is wearing it. We're going to stand around the edge of the room and stare at y'all awkwardly," RC grinned at them, and Michael laughed.

"All attendees are being searched, and all the house staff as well," RC informed them, "We're not taking any chances at all. Even Devon is gonna be searched, and the FOG teams were all ready to fight for the chance to do it, if only because they think he's gonna try and smuggle a few things in just to make a point."

"I wanted to set up a camera and sell popcorn in the garage," April confessed, "But I'll settle for riding with Kitt if that's ok?"

"Pardon?" Kitt was surprised. Had the board insisted he be supervised for this reading after his independent actions at the last attempt to read the will?

"I asked her to ride with you," Michael confessed, "I want you to have company this time. Not because I think you need a supervisor, but because some of the information coming our way is a bit… confronting. I wanted you to have a friend with you."

"Well that isn't ominous," Kitt muttered, but eased the chassis back and opened the driver's side door.

"Are you sure?" April beamed, "I won't touch anything!"

"Of course," Kitt replied, amused at her excitement. She slid gingerly into the drivers seat and eased the door closed as if it was made of glass.

"Now there's a beautiful sight," RC grinned.

"Sure is," Michael shot Kitt a knowing look and Kitt flashed the scanner at them both.

"You're both pigs," Kitt informed them, but he let his amused tone belie the comment and April giggled as he backed the chassis out of the doors, "You should get going Michael. I'll be tapped into the surveillance system."

"We have extra camera's and mics in the conference room Kitt," RC confirmed, "On the usual channel."

"Thank you RC, I appreciate that," Kitt turned the chassis and returned her to the drive, April stroking the door panel in delight.

0000

No less than three people checked Devon over, and Michael had to run a gauntlet of five. Devon was found to be carrying three weapons, and Michael none, which Kitt smugly informed April was incorrect. They were much better at designing and building items that could be used as a weapon and ignored as such and he took great delight in telling her what they were as they waited.

Once more the attendees were assigned seating, but this time Michael sat with his back to the wall at the end of the table beside Mr Asquith, and Devon sat at the other with Miss Knight in the middle. She had nodded to Michael when he came in, giving him a very comprehensive once over. Kitt couldn't deny his Driver looked handsome in the suit she'd bought to replace his other one, but didn't appreciate the look anyway.

"Someone needs to get her a towel so she can wipe the drool off," April muttered, "And a dictionary so she can look up the meaning of 'subtle'."

Kitt wanted to agree, but was concerned that doing so would raise suspicions in her about his relationship with his Driver.

"I still find her reason for shooting Michael baffling. All she had to do was attempt to meet him, on her own terms or her own grounds, and she'd have realised very quickly that he was not her brother," Kitt complained, "I didn't get a chance to say it earlier, but thank you for defending him to her."

"It's ok Kitt," April sighed, "I've come to realise that he needs someone to stand up for him now and then."

"I don't understand why Bonnie won't treat him with courtesy," Kitt had been waiting a long time to say that to someone who wasn't Michael. Michael excused her to try and preserve her relationship with Kitt, "They have so much in common. He started a degree in engineering after high school, though he dropped out and used his college fund to pay his parent's mortgage off after his father died. That's how he ended up in the Army."

"He was in engineering?" April shook her head, "Well he has to be good with numbers and math, what with all the manoeuvres he pulls in you. The really risky stuff is always done by Michael."

"I hadn't considered it that way," Kitt mused. On the screens, Mr Asquith was calling the meeting to order and April leaned in to watch, her hands folded in her lap. Kitt turned up the sound a little and settled in to watch the reading, while simultaneously scanning the area for threats. The Foundation security team should have been sufficient, but Kitt didn't want to take chances.

Knight Industries was granted further resources from Wilton Knight's estate to expand the business. It seemed that Wilton had a plan for his fortune and wanted to ensure that Miss Knight achieved it. Devon was confirmed as the Director of FLAG, and independent funding was added to FLAG's budget in the shape of a very hefty investment portfolio that required careful management and oversight. Kitt realised that the documentation in front of Miss Knight and Devon was different, and that the documentation in front of Michael was also unique to his portion of the will reading. Given that none of the information being disseminated was startling, Kitt could only assume that whatever came next was conditions or disbursements to Michael.

He was not wrong. Wilton Knight had set out a series of possible outcomes for Michael spending five years working with both FLAG and Kitt. Those outcomes included being invalided out due to injury, or quitting or being fired, which Kitt was glad to see discarded. The next set of outcomes depended on Michael's in field performance, the goal posts for which he had exceeded. Those were mainly financial rewards that would allow Kitt's Driver to retire a very wealthy man, provided he managed his money wisely. There was a further clause in that portion of the will, which bequeathed Kitt to Michael, to be used for whatever purpose Michael thought best.

Several members of the Knight Industries board started protesting at that and April gasped.

"I was always just a thing, to them," Kitt said, a little numb at the idea that he could be simply bequeathed away. Both Michael and RC's heart rates had spiked, and Kitt was sure he'd seen them exchange a glance.

"Oh honey, that's not it!" April put her hands on the gull wing, though the chassis was inert, "It means that Michael has the legal authority to protect you. They can't decommission you, or otherwise decide that you are no longer useful and store you away. It means you're safe from the board deciding you're too expensive to maintain! The Foundation's extra budget will take care of you for a long time, and Michael has the money now to do it as well!"

Kitt reconsidered his interpretation. He was still clearly in the mind of some people a thing, but he knew that Michael, RC and April all saw him as a person, and one that needed their protection no less. In the light of this bequest, he and Michael were no longer hostage to the whims of the board or Miss Knight. They were independent.

"Kitt, you ok?" RC asked quietly over the comm link. On the screen Michael was watching their partner, clearly unable to call himself while he was centre of attention of the board.

"Yes RC, please tell Michael I'm alright," Kitt replied, "You're right April, this is the protection we needed."

On the screen RC made a small ok sign, and Michael's heart rate slowed down, reassured that Kitt didn't need him immediately. The board members were threatening legal action and all sorts of nonsense, which Miss Knight and Devon were shutting down handily. In the end, Mr Asquith insisted that the board members leave, as there was no further business for them to hear. Most of security went with them, though RC stayed when Michael signalled him to do so. Kitt and April watched them storm out to their chauffeured cars, waving their arms in indignation.

"Well," Devon huffed, "I don't know how you deal with them Miss Knight."

"I'm the majority shareholder, Mr Miles, they have to deal with me," she replied crossly, "Not the other way around."

"If I may finish now?" Mr Asquith said with the air of a man beleaguered by fools.

"Please do," Michael said courteously, "I take it the last stipulation was met?"

"Yes, your documentation was very helpful with that last one," Mr Asquith nodded, "And it's for the best that the board don't hear it. I wasn't entirely sure this particular stipulation would ever be met, but Wilton seemed certain of both you and the Knight Industries Two Thousand, and I'm pleased to be proven wrong."

"This last stipulation also affects Kitt?" RC asked nervously. Mr Asquith gave him a curious glance, but nodded.

"It had to be fulfilled by the entity you know as Kitt and Mr Knight. Mr Knight had to find a way to recognise Kitt as a legal living entity, capable of free will and real world decisions. This has been met when the entity established a legal identity when it created and maintained an investment business, a limited partnership corporation known as Miki. While Mr Knight is listed as senior partner, it is clear that Kitt both managed and established the corporation without speaking to Mr Knight initially. There has since been collaboration and mutual decision making, but the entity known as Kitt has clearly established itself in the world," Mr Asquith said it baldly. Kitt disliked being referred to as an it, but dismissed the emotion for now. Devon and Miss Knight both exclaimed, but Kitt tuned them out, tightening his focus on Michael.

"Michael read the will, he suspected this was coming," Kitt didn't realise he'd spoken out loud until April agreed with him, "April, did you know about Miki?"

"RC mentioned it," April shrugged, "He'd seen some paperwork, or posted some paperwork for you? He told me that you and Michael had a company, I guess he didn't know that it was you that started it."

"Michael was trying to let me learn more about the financial side of the world, it came up in a case early in our partnership. When we had been together for six months, Bonnie insisted I stop the theoretical exercise we were running, and Michael just… gave me half his savings and told me to try it for real. He was trying to show Bonnie that I was … growing is the best word, I think," Kitt explained. April grinned.

"But you being you, you were good at it, and needed to make some decisions to stay within the law, because you're not a law breaking kind of guy," April shrugged, "And then just as I met you, you and Michael bought a place to live with the proceeds. I did wonder how Michael had managed a mortgage."

"We own it outright," Kitt replied as Mr Asquith asked to speak with Kitt directly.

"I am legally bound to explain it's inheritance to it," Mr Asquith was saying to Devon, who had asked why he wanted to speak to Kitt.

"He," Michael spoke for the first time, "He's a he, not an it. Kitt is a person, and as far as he can have a gender, he identifies as male."

"My apologies," Mr Asquith frowned, "I've never met an incorporeal intelligence before, and am not familiar with the protocols."

"Kitt, you still with me pal?" Michael raised his comm link to his mouth.

"I should have run for the hills when I had the chance," Kitt informed him acerbically, "I would have appreciated a warning Michael."

"You've been busy … accessing that … database for us and tracing that information on who hired the assassin," Michael chose his words carefully in front of the lawyer, "I didn't want to distract you. Besides, we were also busy with the building inspections."

"I'm coming around to the doors now, Michael," Kitt informed him, "I'd be pleased to be introduced to Mr Asquith in person."

"Always gracious," Devon smiled, "Thank you Kitt."

Kitt disengaged from the cameras and moved the chassis around the side of the house, April watching him drive avidly. Usually she saw him move from the outside, as he rarely let the technicians into the chassis, and certainly not while he was driving.

Michael had opened the french doors and pulled chairs into the doorway for everyone to sit. April popped out of the chassis and hurried inside, and Kitt nosed her further into the room. Michael chose to perch on the end of the hood, making sure not to obstruct Kitt's scanner or the cameras he used for forward views.

"Mr Asquith, may I introduce my partner, Kitt Knight. Kitt, this is Mr Earl Asquith, executor of Wilton Knight's estate," Michael had manners when he wanted. Mr Asquith wore tweed, gold framed glasses and a goatee.

"Pleased to meet you," Kitt murmured, and Mr Asquith offered a sort of nod/bow gesture.

"Mr Knight, Wilton had high hopes for you," Mr Asquith shuffled the papers on his lap, "Specifically for your partnership with Mr Michael Knight."

"I'm glad to hear that we have met them," Kitt replied, "Although I wasn't aware that I would be named in the will as anything other than an asset."

"Not to me," Michael murmured, and Kitt flicked open and closed a head lamp in response. He knew Michael hadn't seen him as a thing for years, and that phase of their partnership had only lasted for a bare handful of days.

"The bequeathing of your physical body to Mr Michael Knight stands," Mr Asquith looked uncomfortable, "Though I believe that was more intended to secure you from external machinations. As this bequest belongs to you solely, Mr Michael Knight was informed merely that you would be required to attend this portion of the meeting, and not its subject."

"I am beginning to believe the bequest was to protect myself," Kitt agreed, "I am curious as to what else Wilton could have envisaged. After all, as an AI I have very few physical needs that are not already met by the Foundation."

"But as you have established yourself as a legal entity in the world around you, you are also entitled to an inheritance of your own," Mr Asquith continued, "A property, not far from here, and a small company that is working on the next generation of AI, to be mounted in chassis in a manner similar to your own."

"Knight Foundries is being bequeathed to Kitt?" Devon at least seemed to know what it was that Wilton had done.

"That is correct. He would be a silent partner, and I believe that part of the stipulations regarding the Foundries includes management under more traditional human intelligence's, but Kitt would have ultimate sign off on the projects themselves and the direction it develops in. The Foundry was a very new company, established only a year or so before Mr Wilton Knight passed," Mr Asquith confirmed.

"There would be more AI's like me?" Kitt was astonished and didn't bother to hide it, "With a similar mission and purpose?"

"Yes," Devon nodded. Michael turned to look Kitt 'in the eye' as if gauging his reaction and degree of emotional response. Whatever he saw reassured him that Kitt was alright, if a little shocked. Kitt was never sure how Michael was able to read his status just by looking at him, but his partner was rarely wrong about when Kitt needed him.

"That is… a lot to take in," Kitt said quietly, "Mr Asquith, would you please email me the full details? I would need to … absorb the information before I make any further judgement. If you'd copy Michael's email in as well, that would be appreciated."

"I'll send the details to Miki at once," Mr Asquith nodded, "And I am available for any questions or concerns you have. We can meet again in person or via the phone if it suits you better."

"Thank you," Kitt agreed, "I'll let you know. Or Michael will."

"That will be fine," Mr Asquith nodded. He hesitated for a moment, then peered at Devon with concern, "Do we have any news on the assassin? My staff are understandably in a state of concern."

"He has been identified and the FBI are pursuing him," Devon replied, "He was not targeting you or your staff, and they should feel certain their safety is ensured. Until the matter is fully resolved, we will continue to avoid your offices."

"Thank you," Mr Asquith nodded, "I will let them know of course."

The people in front of Kitt got up and Devon escorted Miss Knight and Mr Asquith from the room.

"So…. How many weapons did we miss?" RC asked, clearly not ready to discuss the elephant in the room.

"Five," April informed him, "But I'm not telling you what they were."

"Aw come on," he protested waving to Kitt and following her out of the room. Michael got off the hood as Kitt rolled her back and closed the french doors, coming to stand in front of the scanner.

"I need to get changed," he told Kitt, walking towards his own set of french doors, "And … you need to tell me when you're ready to talk about this."

"Thank you for asking a friend to sit with me," Kitt paced Michael as they moved along the back of the house, "She had a more level headed approach to you inheriting my chassis than my initial reaction."

"You know that is just to shut the board up, right?" Michael paused at the door to his room, unlatching it. Kitt flashed the scanner at him.

"I know," he assured his Driver, "Although we are a family of sorts Michael, and family have the strongest claim to ownership."

"Yeah," Michael smiled, and Kitt saved a picture of that one too, while his Driver went in to take off that lovely suit.

0000

"I beg your pardon?" Michael frowned, "Buddy Jackson paid a quarter of a million dollars to have me killed?"

"I suspect his associates accessed his funds, but yes, that is the effect," Kitt replied, amusement clear in his tone. Michael narrowed his eyes at his smug partner, not appreciating the amusement. Buddy was a bully and not a very good one, and the idea that the man was the source of the threat was almost an insult. If an international hit man was going to be sent after Michael, he'd prefer it be over a case with international implications, not the ego of Buddy 'song thief' Jackson. He was going into witness protection after taking a plea deal, and Michael had hoped he would never be heard of again.

"The gang members that the DEA didn't get have acted against us," Devon frowned, "Was Michael the only person named in the contract?"

"Yes," Kitt confirmed, his tone sobering, "And Phaeton has a clause in all contracts he takes. Once he accepts a target he doesn't stop until said target is deceased."

"Damn," RC muttered. He and Devon had joined Kitt and Michael in Michael's downstairs office. Devon had replaced the bed with a couch and chairs, and the humans were sitting on them while Kitt delivered his report. Kitt was parked in his usual place, and found the arrangement almost as good as their garage. After four years living in their own space, they had finally made the point that Kitt's unusual physical presence was to be accommodated, not ignored.

"That is unfortunate," Devon ran a hand over his chin, and Michael shook his head.

"Actually, it's perfect," he grinned. Kitt hated that grin. Michael was about to offer himself up in some foolish plan that would risk his life, if that grin was anything to go by.

"Michael, I forbid it," Kitt told him severely.

"I haven't even suggested anything!" Michael complained, "How can you forbid what I haven't suggested?"

"I know that grin," Kitt informed him, "You are about to offer yourself up as bait, or some other such foolish thing."

"Well, if we've got what they want Kitt, we might as well exploit it," Michael told his annoyed partner in his most reasonable tone. Kitt hated that tone as much as he hated the grin.

"Michael," Kitt groaned, "For heaven's sake. Why do you insist on risking your life?"

"Whose life should I risk?" Michael frowned, "We'll do it as carefully as possible. Take as many precautions as we can."

"Whatever plan we devise," Devon spoke up, giving Michael his most forbidding glare, "It will minimise every risk."

"And you'll stick to it, partner," RC added, "I'm not going to let you put yourself in harms way. And neither is Kitt."

Michael gave Devon and RC a startled look. He still wasn't used to people other than Kitt telling him that they preferred him to be alive and safe.

"I wonder if we could incorporate our trap in the planned training exercise for the FOG team?" RC mused, "It would be useful to have the other field agents for back up, that way we can make sure that Michael and Kitt are appropriately covered, and have people available to do the apprehension as well."

"If we could manufacture a carefully controlled social occasion where some of the field agents would be expected to be present, and conceal the presence of others, that would be ideal," Devon looked struck by the idea, "We would need a location where we could limit public access, but not have such stringent security as to discourage our quarry."

"I don't think he'd come after me," Kitt pointed out, "While it would be an obvious way to draw Michael out to you, Buddy Jackson's associates would not have been able to tell Phaeton that I exist."

"He saw you when you chased him," RC reminded Kitt.

"He saw the chassis," Kitt corrected, "I had darkened the windows, and I never spoke to him. I certainly never identified myself in any way. For all he knows a human drove their car at him and chased him across a parking deck. Aside from my scanner, which most people dismiss as an after market cosmetic vanity modification, there is nothing about my chassis to suggest that I am anything other than a car."

"You're not a car," Michael and RC said simultaneously, with Michael glaring at his partner for good measure. Kitt was gratified, but now was not the time to rehash that argument.

"No he isn't, but an outsider wouldn't know any better," Devon agreed, "I believe Kitt's assessment is correct. Any civilian is going to expect a driver behind tinted glass, not a person mounted in the chassis. There isn't even any indication that Phaeton knows that Michael is attached to his car beyond the usual attachment a man has to a personal vehicle. Threatening Kitt would not occur to him."

"And if he did, he wouldn't think to deploy the kind of artillery he'd need to do real damage to me," Kitt added, "To an outsider, my exterior does not suggest that I am coated with MBS."

Michael wasn't happy about it, but Kitt had a point, and of the two of them he was the least likely to be hurt in whatever plan they came up with. Kitt was Michael's refuge in danger, and unless Buddy Jackson and his drug gang associates had found a way to link Michael Danvers with Michael Knight, they wouldn't be expecting Michael and Kitt as a partnership.

"Whatever plan we come up with, I still want Kitt's exposure to be minimal," Michael frowned, "If they haven't linked the Danvers alias to the name of Knight I don't want them making that link now. That is the name on his plate, after all."

"That is reasonable," Devon agreed, rubbing his hands together. Kitt reflected that Devon enjoyed scheming against their adversaries, and RC was also quite eager to participate. Their partner had taken the threat to Michael seriously, even though he'd been tasked with Devon's safety. Kitt was glad to see it.

0000

As the whole point of their trap was to make Phaeton take the next best opportunity, Michael was confined to either their home, the Foundation grounds, or Kitt's chassis for the next week. Devon and RC had taken over the setting and execution of the agreed to plan, and Michael had not been pleased that he had not been allowed to take a more active role.

He built, with Kitt's approval, a comm link for RC to keep permanently, choosing a watch similar to his own, though the chrome had been dulled in a chemical bath rather than the black and red theme Michael had chosen to wear specifically for Kitt. RC had been very touched by their recognition. The comm link was on a separate channel to Michael's, which would let Kitt better monitor them both in real time. He'd not been in the habit of monitoring RC as closely as he did Michael when they worked together. It wasn't that he didn't value RC, it was more that he'd been aware of the lines people drew around their privacy, something that Michael had never had from Kitt, and had only insisted on in very specific circumstances.

Michael spent a lot of time practising with his guitar. He had promised to play all four seasons for Kitt, and was working on the arrangements. Kitt was as fascinated to hear the pieces progressing as he would be to hear them fully played. He knew that Michael was planning something for the actual full performance, the man wasn't able to fly under Kitt's watchful eye, not really, but Kitt respected the effort and so he didn't look too closely into Michael's plans.

Devon and RC had come up with a plan that they felt would minimise the risk to Michael and still draw Phaeton out. Kitt wasn't too happy with it, as the plan called for Michael to inhabit an area that Kitt couldn't get to without driving through a wall. Given that the wall was part of the Los Angeles Botanic Gardens, and rather integral to not just the garden but the tourist trade, Kitt was understandably displeased.

At his insistence Michael agreed to wear a bullet proof vest under his clothes. He also agreed not to leave the area of operation without first informing Kitt and RC and the rest of the team. Of course, Kitt knew that last condition was not something they could enforce. Michael would do his best to stay where they needed him, but he'd go after Phaeton if he had a clear window to do so. Kitt was resigned to it.

The day of their trap dawned cloudy, with a threat of rain, which was perfect. It meant that Phaeton would need to be closer to his target to mitigate the effects of the weather. It also meant that Michael had an excuse to meet his fellow Foundation agents wearing a concealing jacket. They were hoping that Phaeton would stay true to form and aim for the torso, as was his habit. Once the target was down and not moving he went for a head shot. Kitt was determined that wouldn't happen.

Michael was meeting the agents in the Botanic Gardens ostensibly as part of a training exercise they were going to run, a surveillance and covert extraction game. The FOG team had indeed been intrigued by playing Michael and Kitt's version of hide and seek, and the exercises had been planned for a full week. The timetable had been moved up a little in the face of Phaeton's threat, but that hadn't made anyone less eager to 'play'.

The group was to meet in a sheltered place (hence the wall that Kitt was not allowed to crash through) that was overlooked by several spots a sniper could favour. In addition, there was the possibility of a concealed explosive device (Phaeton not being constrained from causing property damage of course) which Kitt was scanning for continuously. Phaeton rarely used explosives, preferring ballistics as his method of killing, but Kitt was taking no chances.

Michael had parked Kitt in the predesignated area, getting out of the passenger door. With the window treatment applied it would look like there was still a driver in the vehicle if Kitt had to move and anyone had been paying attention. He strolled through to the meeting point, joining two of the Flag operatives who were also walking that way casually, greeting them and feigning a conversation. If Kitt hadn't known better, he'd have thought all three humans deeply involved in the conversation, but Michael was on high alert, despite his apparently lax observation of the area around him.

Kitt was scanning continuously. Bonnie had upgraded his scanner again, this time with a temporary modification that allowed him to tap into sensor's they had placed around the gardens over the course of several days. Operatives disguised as maintenance workers had dropped disguised devices around their area of operation, and Kitt was tapping into them now, weaving a sensor net around all of the Foundation employees.

"I have located our target," Kitt announced, "Michael, he's exactly where you thought he'd be."

"Keep scanning," Michael replied, faking a laugh, "I have a funny feeling about it."

Kitt kept scanning even as a team of people moved to intercept the sniper. He trusted his Driver's instincts. Michael understood a lot about sniping for a man who didn't routinely use or carry a gun, something Kitt put down to his years in the Army. His human also had a very well honed set of instincts for a trap, tried and tested after years of field experience. If Michael's instincts were sounding off, then there was good reason for both partners to heed them.

Michael reached the centre of the field of operation, or what he'd called 'the bullseye' and entered it just as the team, reached and took down the sniper.

"Still in play! Still in play!" the message from RC at the snipers nest was broadcast urgently, even as Kitt watched the team remove the weapon from the sniper, who didn't move at all despite his heart rate rocketing with fear. Kitt widened his field of sight, checking the secondary and tertiary sniper points, which were empty.

"No other snipers detected," Kitt reported, "He may be on foot."

There was a gardener nearby, and Michael turned towards him, the other operatives fanning out as well, looking for their quarry. They were not able to close the area to foot traffic, the gardens had refused that request and Devon had agreed that it would seem suspicious to any assassin. Anyone not part of the team was suspicious, and Kitt started scanning the people nearby for weapons.

There was a mother, with a child in a buggy, a couple of women together jogging, three separate men also jogging, the gardener, a business man, and a man with three children of varying age on assorted wheeled conveyances. Michael didn't walk any closer to the gardener, seemingly dismissing him. Kitt had limited visual range of the site, and was relying almost entirely on the sensor images, mostly infra red, with some outline of metallic surfaces. Phaeton preferred firearms, is why Kitt didn't immediately register the knife that the business man slid from his sleeve and plunged into Michael's leg.

"Knife!" Kitt shouted over the comm, but Michael was already reacting, punching his attacker in the throat even as he fell, the leg giving way under him. People converged on them as the business man staggered back, choking as he shook a second knife from his other sleeve, aiming a strike at Michael's throat. The blow missed and then he was swarmed, even as Michael rolled to the side, away from the melee beside him. Around him, the civilians cried out in alarm, the ones with children hustling away. The joggers also cleared the area quickly, and the gardener pulled out his portable radio, calling for help.

"So much for Kevlar," Michael groaned, shoving with his good leg and the hand not clamped to the still embedded knife to get further away from his assassin.

"Put pressure on it," Kitt urged, "It's too close to the major blood vessels!"

"Trying," Michael replied through gritted teeth. His vital signs were showing pain and distress, even as the gardener swooped on him from behind, grabbing him under the arms and pulling him rapidly away.

"Hey Devon," Michael gasped, "Got something I can tie this off with?"

"Devon? Michael, Devon is back in the command post," Kitt fretted. Was his Driver delirious? Had there been some kind of poison or drug on the blade?

"I'm here Kitt," Devon said into the comm, also audible over Michael's due to his proximity, "I changed plans at the last minute. I had a bad feeling about the situation."

"Devon, he needs to be stabilised and brought to me, so I can take him to the hospital," Kitt urged, "I've called for emergency assistance, but I'd be quicker transporting him."

"We have Dr Alpert with us in the command centre," Michael reminded Kitt, who didn't swear in frustration, no matter how much he wanted to. He needed to be there with Michael, not confined to this stupid parking lot while his Driver bled onto the gravel path, out of reach and out of sight.

"He's on his way," RC announced, "The sniper was a homeless guy, he'd been tied in position, we're dealing with getting him free and down now. Michael, how bad is it?"

"Bleeding," Michael muttered, then grunted, "Devon's got pressure on it."

"We've got Phaeton," the announcement was accompanied by the emergence of four agents with the assassin from behind the stupid wall that Kitt wasn't allowed to crash through, "He's being moved now."

"I'm moments away," Dr Alpert announced, "With the trauma team. The Flag ambulance is only a few minutes out, we'll take him to the Foundation."

"Meet me there Kitt," Michael gasped, and Devon murmured an apology, "I'll see you in a bit partner."

"You'd better," Kitt snarled and put the chassis into drive.

0000