The drive had taken longer than usual-- mostly because their rental couldn't hit the speeds Kitt could, especially without getting them in trouble with the CHP. But I-5 was old familiar territory, even if finding their way around the Bay Area's tangled overpasses wasn't. Bonnie had found herself a little place just outside of San Francisco, close enough to commute but far enough that the rent wasn't at a premium.
And then she and Kitt had settled in to fix Kitt's code, and Michael had paced. A lot. And poked at the decor, and poked around the kitchen, and basically just... poked around, waiting and trying not to worry too hard.
Kitt was his.
He was Kitt's.
And that was the way it was supposed to be.
After what seemed like ages, Bonnie announced that she was finished.