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[OOC] [15 Jul 2010|05:45am]

This community will not be deleted, tyvm.
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Blind Truth [Part Seven] [10 May 2007|09:45am]

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.

Michael couldn't thank her enough.
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Blind Truth [Part Six] [22 Apr 2007|07:01am]

She'd been in the bar for a long time, and she planned to go back - but no time had really passed out here. She and Karr had spent months together, and she felt all the better for it. There was one thing the Bar didn't have, though.

Her clothes.

Bonnie had first indulged herself in a long shower that her neighbors would probably complain about, depending on how big the water heater was for this section of the apartment building. Oh well, though. She had as much right to it as they did. So she was wearing clean clothes and her hair was still dripping a little when she got around to checking her answering machine.

First, a call from her mother that told her, flat out, that her answering machine message was not that funny, and if that was her attitude, then she'd never call back.

"That's not gonna last," she muttered through a chuckle as she sat down for the rest.

One from Devon, just to check up. One from her sister, chuckling at her mother and asking when she was going to be visiting and telling her she'd just gotten engaged. Bonnie was glad to hear that one. "Less pressure on me, thank God."

A couple from the colleges she'd gotten in touch with, and one that sounded very promising. She wrote down that number and made a note to call back.

And then, she heard Michael's voice.

"Heya, Bon, it's Michael-- Kitt and I managed to, um, run into some problems-- Problems at work. Long story better told in person, or at least where you can answer back, but, uh, I got fired.

"Kitt's okay-- sorta-- Devon somehow pulled my name from some encoded... thingy. No, cited code and gave an embedded command, that was it. Kitt's okay, no headaches, came home with me on his own, and he's sleeping on the couch now.

"But he needs to see you, to get things set right and to see if you can block off that code-- I mean, I don't want Devon trying this shit on Karr, either, or trying it again on Kitt. He seems... drained.

"Boy, I hope you get all this. I'm gonna go see to Kitt now-- call me as soon as you can. We can come up there if that's easier-- Kitt wants to get out of town, I think.

"Love you, take care. Bye."

Bonnie stared at the answering machine. "Devon... what the hell have you done." She nearly growled the words as she changed the tape on the machine - it was time and date stamped, and with something like that on the message, she knew it could end up evidence. And then, she rewound the reply tape and started recording a new greeting.

"You've reached the residence of Bonnie Barstow. The fact is that I'm screening my calls. If I don't answer, either I'm not at the phone, or I don't want to talk to you. Feel free to leave a message. I'll feel free to ignore you."

And then, with that done, she picked up her handset to dial Michael. What time was it here, anyway? It didn't matter, this was important.
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Blind Truth [Part Five] [21 Apr 2007|12:53am]

They'd been out driving when Devon called.

Cutting loose in the desert, playing, basically-- celebrating Michael being told that he was back to twenty-twenty vision again. Granted, he still had to wear dark glasses if he was going to be out in the sun, but that was a precaution. Since Michael didn't relish the idea of losing vision later in life, it was a precaution he could live with.

But. In a miracle of timing, he'd called them, wanting to see them, saying they had things to settle.

And since that was true, they'd worked out a time to meet (at the Foundation, of course) and then disconnected the call.

Michael hadn't really wanted to talk to Devon, but the day had finally rolled around.

He had a bad feeling about it in general.
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Blind Truth [Part Four] [10 Apr 2007|01:35am]

Kitt stared at his plate.

Honestly, it wasn't as bad as it could've been. It was, after all, one of his first efforts at cooking that wasn't baking. It was, instead, lunch.

Breakfast had been easy enough. He'd made what Michael termed 'breakfast burritos' - flour tortillas wrapped around scrambled eggs (easy enough), fried sausage (slightly harder), tomatoes (not quite as bad) and peppers (same as tomatoes) all sauteed together. That had seemed acceptable. It was almost proof that he could indeed conquer breakfast.

Lunch had been slightly more effort to come up with. It had to be something that was easily held in-hand and not too messy. He'd considered making burgers, but decided against it. That was something he could get through a drive through, plus he wasn't sure if he'd be able to cook beef patties well enough.

Thus, staying in the same vaguely-Mexican vein, he'd decided on tacos. It had made him cut up tomatoes and shred lettuce and manage to fry meat - nothing too difficult, considering what he'd done for breakfast, but they were running low on tomatoes by the time he got done.

And he thought the meat was... just a little too done.

And he wasn't sure the spicing was right.

But he knew that cooking wasn't his forte.

"I hope I haven't managed to make us... extremely ill with this one."
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Blind Truth, part three [09 Apr 2007|10:13pm]

His office was, at last, silent. It'd taken time to calm April and to tell her that while she was (indeed, she was) fired from being Kitt's technician, there were other places for her in the Foundation if she would just give him time. But at last, he was alone to think about what had happened and what he'd seen.

That kind of closeness... That wasn't simply platonic. He had seen men and their wives near each other in that same way, and that was in no way platonic. For all Michael couldn't meet Kitt's gaze, Devon had seen it. And he sighed as he came to understand what it all meant. "Michael..." he muttered, shaking his head. His chair was facing the window, letting him see that the day outside was nice. That was all he could say about it - sunny and blue-skied, perfectly offsetting his mood. "You know he has no guard against you..."

And that, perhaps, was the crux of it. Whatever Devon's own views on the subject (and he'd let a hint of them slip, startled into a moment of poor taste), Kitt had absolutely no defenses against Michael. No way to say 'no' if Michael insisted on something. And Michael, blast him, could be insidious in getting his way-- Devon had more than once been on the receiving end of Michael's manipulations. He'd foolishly thought them harmless. A day off, a week off, permission to turn a personal matter into a case. If he'd done the same to Kitt, worked whatever charms he worked that granted him so many successes with women on Kitt...

Kitt would have had no choice but to give in. None at all, convinced he was wanted in such a way by someone they had made so very important. He had been led down an immoral path, pressed into doing heaven only knew what, and-- in not seeing, not foreseeing, what depths Michael could sink to-- Kitt had been unable to say 'no.' Kitt's designers, his programmers, Devon among them, hadn't given him a way to refuse such... requests... if they came from his driver.

Worse, they had given him the ultimate devotion. Even if he were faced with such facts as Devon could see, he'd deny them. What had they done? Had they actually started this much of a spiral? But there was, he told himself, no way that they could've guessed that Michael would do... such a thing, really. Or that Kitt would be so terribly caught by... a crazy man's wiles.

Now that he had the time to think, he found himself wondering. Michael and Kitt had taken quite a bit of time off in places undisclosed. Whether that meant they spent time in a hotel or if they had an apartment, Devon wasn't sure, but whatever Michael had chosen to do, he'd certainly had the time to do it, and the time to build the trust it would've taken for Kitt to accept it so very simply. The image that still haunted his mind made that clear. Kitt had been more the initiator in what he'd seen than Michael - given Michael's lack of eyesight, Kitt would've had to be the initiator. No matter Michael's protests that the contact was innocent.

Why would Michael want to lose what he'd built, after all? Even if it meant costing the innocence of a very young and impressionable AI. Perhaps Kitt's inhumanity was why Michael had... indulged his whims. Certainly Devon hadn't noticed any lack of female company in... however long.

... How long had it been going on? How long had the pair of them been conspiring to hide this? Kitt was willing, certainly, or at least believed he was willing-- he was following his programming, of course, putting Michael first, as he was meant to do. If only Michael had behaved as he'd been meant to, perhaps Devon wouldn't be forced to wonder the many, many unpleasant things he was wondering. How long, how much damage had been done to Kitt that would have to be undone, what would Wilton say if he'd known, had Michael at least had the decency to be faithful... But he hadn't, of course. There had been Katherine as recently as Christmas, shown off and made much of, and there had been another interlude with Stevie. It was unconscionable, in this dangerous day and age, to gad about like that, recklessly going from girl to girl.

And then, evidently, home to his AI.

Devon at least had one answer to his wonderings.

Wilton would have been incensed.

And that left him to things even more unpleasant. He was there to see to it that Wilton's dream was followed. Wilton himself had put so much into FLAG and had it nearly taken from him twice. Devon simply couldn't stand by and watch it disintegrate and let it happen. He had to step in. His personal honour demanded it, no matter the possible pain it could cause.

It would cause pain, though. He knew. He himself had put those few lines of programming in place - programming that was there since Karr, but they'd never had to use. He didn't look forward to it, either. Kitt would be crushed, even put out of comission. For how long, he wasn't sure. It would stretch past days, he was sure. Possibly past weeks, but in a few months, he would be right as rain. He would see what Devon had done as the gift it was intended to be, instead of the burden it had felt at first. And he would see to it that Michael had a decent enough severance package.

He would have to speak to him, though, and let him know exactly what had happened that was in the wrong. Why he was being let go. Michael must've convinced himself that, while there would be repercussions, it wouldn't be anything like this.

But then, Michael was so used to living without consequences. Women who never sought him out after he left them behind, cases he never really saw through to the end-- to the point where they could be turned over to the authorities, but only rarely did arraignments or trials factor into Michael's mind. He handled things thus far, then handed the dull final details off to other people. He grew bored and wandered off.

If he wandered away from Kitt... the result could be unthinkable. More unthinkable than the current reality. Weeks or months with Kitt out of commission would likely be enough to find and properly screen replacement drivers; they'd had Kenneth Franklyn in mind before Michael Long, they could find someone to follow him. But if Michael were to turn away from Kitt after twisting his mind so thoroughly... Better to have done with it. The contracts and legalities hadn't changed; if Michael was fired, Kitt reverted completely to the Foundation. And the Foundation was not infallible. Those few lines of code were a testament to that, that they knew they weren't infallible. They could no more allow a rogue driver to make off with Kitt than the military.

For Kitt's own good, then. For Michael's, too, if secondarily. There was simply nothing else to be done.

Nothing but papers to be drawn up and finalised, for their lawyers to look over and make certain were airtight. They could even find, perhaps, a perk to distract Michael from the loss of his job. Perhaps offer him a house somewhere of his choosing, within a certain price range. And perhaps a surgery to right what Michael had made clear had been percieved as a wrong - a surgery to make him look less like Garthe Knight. That would not only benefit Michael but benefit the Foundation as well. If he didn't look like family, perhaps he would have less credence to anyone if he returned and tried to claim any rights. They could arrange it. And Devon would have to see to it.

Starting now.
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Blind Truth [Part Two] [15 Mar 2007|10:19pm]

The bar had been generous this morning. Kitt had breakfast in his hands when he managed to get home, and it was less than five minutes from when he'd left. That meant that Michael, he hoped, would still be asleep. All of the shades were still drawn, leaving it dim indoors, but Kitt didn't mind. He knew where everything was, knew where Michael was.

He'd managed to go to the bar through the bathroom door - why was it always the bathroom door, anyway? It meant a short trip, though. He was glad to have a master bath off their bedroom.

The food boxes, embossed as they were with the Milliways logo, fit just perfectly on Kitt's nightstand while Kitt climbed into bed once more. He stretched out beside Michael, his arm wrapping around him, nuzzles given to Michael's cheek. "Good morning," he murmured, pressing little kisses to Michael's cheek.

That, he thought, was better than an alarm clock.
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Blind Truth [Part One] [08 Mar 2007|02:33am]

Michael had been called to the lab to help April out with something she was adding to Kitt.

They'd had a couple of fairly easy cases (okay, the O'Brian case shouldn't have been so easy, but they'd had an unexpected amount of help) since returning from their vacation-- a vacation Devon and April had needed almost as much as Michael and Kitt.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was musing on Joana and David-- he thought they'd make good partners, in the end. Maybe not in a romantic sense, once they got the adrenaline-fueld attraction out of their systems, but good friends who could work well together.

Michael was thus all smiles as he headed into the lab-- maybe April would last through the summer after all, even if Kitt never did get around to showing her both his shapes. "So! What are we working on today?"
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[Goliath Returns] Finé. [06 Mar 2007|11:07am]

The aftermath of what had happened at the new installation had left Kitt reeling. The vacation they'd been granted afterward had been no surprise at all, given what had happened.

After the cacophony of alarms and gunfire, Kitt had managed to get to Milliways. There, he'd fetched both of his brothers and a certain Dark God. He'd only seen a portion of the action himself - he'd actually held a gun and had come close to using it, and that was before...

Well. From what he'd heard, Karr and Bonnie had gone on a wild spree, with Ray being slightly more subdued, before rescuing Devon and April, and resetting the house's overload circuitry. Eddie had been sent to take care of Christina and the man who was pretending to be her uncle. Of course he'd managed to do it with, pun half-intended, flying colours. He had a smile that could make anyone melt if he applied it in just the right way.

What Kitt had seen was a new kind of car chase with Goliath plowing through police vehicles, the national guard, a rock truck... Asar-Suti had followed the two of them as they'd chased Goliath, and Kitt had felt better for the backup. They had Doctor Bergstrom in Goliath's trailer, though. That prevented much of the action they could have taken. It had been Asar-Suti's hand that had saved Doctor Bergstrom just minutes before he and Michael herded Goliath over a cliff's edge.

It was reminiscant of how they'd done Karr, Kitt had thought in those milliseconds he watched Goliath fall. Those few moments seemed to stretch forever. Karr had plummeted just so, nose down, seeming to explode in midair. Goliath fell much more ungracefully, the trailer loosed from the cab, hitting the water first, but by less than an eyeblink. It was only as the cab struck and sunk that Kitt realised what had happened.

There had been two human lives in that cab. And now, sinking as it was, having struck rock beneath the water's surface, those two lives were, had to be, snuffed out.

He had, as a side effect of saving lives, killed.

His reaction hadn't been pleasant. It had been up to Eddie, Bonnie, and Karr to take everyone to places where they could be safe. Luckily enough, the house's carpool had still been intact. Kitt had needed more careful attention. Michael had had to talk to Devon once they'd reached the apartment, and Kitt had remained home for some time to regain his own balance.

It was blessedly over. Garthe would never bother him again, he thought. Garthe was, even if it was by his doing, dead. There was only another small scar in his mind from having killed - something he had never been intended to do.
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[Goliath Returns] Fracture [28 Nov 2006|11:42pm]

Hours had passed. He was still suspended on the lift and was waiting. Waiting for what, he wasn't sure - to be let down, to get a hint, to do... something. Something besides wait.

But then he heard footsteps. The damage to his sensors kept him from knowing who was on the way until he saw, and felt the tension return to his circuits.

"Well, well. This is familiar. Once more, you're right where I want you. This keeps happening - and how does that happen so easily?"


There was a hand over his fender. A hand of too familiar a size. Too familiar a shape.

"You're mine now."

The hand slid forward, over his fender, toward his prow, and then along that outermost ridge.

"No one can help you. No one will even try."

Fingers traced below his scanner.

"I'll see you shatter. And I'll see him follow you."

His scanner had tracked back and forth, hitched, half burnt out, but constantly since he'd been captured. Now, it lit fully, bright and stressed, lights almost seeming to shiver.

"Don't hurt Michael," came the soft plea, the beg.

And it was answered with a smirk. "I like it when my captives beg."
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[Goliath Returns] Captive [28 Sep 2006|05:10pm]

The vans had gone to the front. Kitt had been towed to the side. With his sensors malfunctioning, there was nothing he could do once he was inside the garage.

He'd been placed on the rack, four feet off the ground. Unless he took his human form, he was stuck. And he would never, never take his human form inside Garthe's property.


All he knew was that Ray and Michael were inside, where there were guards, and where there was Garthe. And he was frightened. But he still had to reroute all he could. He still had to work on himself.

So he waited on the lift.

And worked.

And pushed fear away.
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[Goliath Returns] Factor [07 Sep 2006|06:46pm]

Michael, miracle of miracles, was dressed.

He had his own breakfast made... Kitt wouldn't eat, but as long as he could refuel, Michael was determined not to worry about it (at least as a short term problem, at least until all this was over). He was glad they still had Slim-Fast mix, though, just in case.

It helped, a little, if he thought of it as just another case. Another very dangerous case, but no worse than the last time they'd faced Garthe.

He had a feeling this time would be different.

He wished he had some idea how.
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Possible Plot: [01 Aug 2006|03:36pm]

Hotel CaliforniaCollapse )
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Upcoming Plot: [31 Jul 2006|03:17pm]

Goliath ReturnsCollapse )
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OOC: [25 May 2006|03:24pm]

Journal Badges!

With the recent swing of popularity toward journal badges, I decided to farm out a couple. These are open to anyone, of course, but they're especially for people who want to show their allegiance to Knight Industries and FLAG. (:

I have them in PNG:

and GIF:

All I ask is that you upload them to your own server, as I can't deal with everybody ganking my bandwidth. One good place is MyOnlineImages.com, and another is 1ASPHost.com, if you don't already have a photobucket or something.

Have fun!
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OOC Notice: S3! [09 Apr 2006|08:23am]

All right - season two is preparing for wrapup. Thanks to altered episode order, we're going out with the bang of Goliath Returns. Some pieces are already in place. Bonnie's been put into undercover duty with Adrienne Margeaux and it's been revealed that she has Goliath. Next thing we know, there'll be a Swedish scientist, and the ep will begin. Some people from in-bar may be recruited for what will become a raid on the house Bonnie's been working at for a few months. Hopefully, we'll get some plot volunteers.

But after that point, we'll be beginning season three.

Season Three episode list!Collapse )

Some of these episodes are very important. The two must-have episodes are K.I.T.T. vs. K.A.R.R. and Junk Yard Dog. We can, of course, do episodes as wanted, omitting or including and changing around. The key thing is that, after KvK, we will have a brand new partner-pair hanging around. Sometime, in all this, Bonnie and Karr will have to be trained.

Also, either near Halloween Knight or in one of Michael and Kitt's vacation period, I'd like to run a quasi-horror plot for anyone interested, especially the KR crowd. Would we all be interested? I don't want to take over the whole thing around here.

Feedback, ideas, plots, plz?
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Let It Be Me: Coda [02 Apr 2006|12:12am]

She deserved to hear him say goodbye. She deserved an explanation, little as he wanted to have to give her one. But... Michael had made his choice-- and this time, it really had been a choice. Stevie deserved to know that it wasn't her.

And she deserved the chance to yell at both of them, if she wanted.

He pulled Kitt even with the curb of Stevie's building... which had both of Class Action's vans parked in front of it. Mark, Jimmy, most of the band and a couple of roadies whose names slipped Michael's mind were pitching in, loading up pillows and clothes and a lamp Michael had seen in Stevie's apartment.

She was leaving?

She was leaving, suitcase in hand, crossing the door just as he climbed the stairs.

"Hi." Michael was glad of turtlenecks and long hair that covered Kitt's lovebites.


He gestured at the vans. "You don't even let the grass grow, do you?"

"Well, we're gonna be on the road for three months, and it just... " Stevie shrugged. "Didn't make sense to keep it."

"Yeah," Michael agreed. Okay, there had to be a way to gracefully say So, listen, about us. There's someone else. Maybe if he explained Katherine instead of Kitt... "Need a hand?"

Stevie watched Michael's face. "No. ... A hug?" she suggested. Michael was only too happy to comply, wrapping her up in his arms-- trying to find some way to say I love you but. "Boy, it seems like we're always saying goodbye..."

"I'm not." ... Dammit the things that came out of his mouth... "Not this time. You're saying goodbye."

"Somebody has to. My life might have changed, but yours hasn't."

"... You know, I could leave the Foundation." Wanted to, someday. Someday soon, in the next year or so. Would.

"No." She shook her head a bit. "That's too high a price to pay, for now. Maybe someday it won't be." She watched Michael, watched his expression, his eyes. Watched Kitt's scanner glittering over his shoulder. And then she turned away, started down the stairs.

Michael cut her off. "Stevie, this isn't over yet--"

"I know."

... And there didn't seem to be anything else he could say. Could find to say. "Goodbye, Stevie."

"Goodbye, Michael."

And with no preamble, no warning or permission, there was a kiss. He cradled her face in his hands, slipped his fingers into her hair. Tasted her mouth, felt her lips on his... He could only think that her hair was cold, and coarse. That he was breathing too easily.

"I'll see you in the supermarket," she offered as the kiss broke, as she slipped away.

He smiled and nodded and did not turn to watch her dash and climb into the waiting van. It hurt, in a final sort of way. There had just passed between them an ending... and he still wasn't sure if she knew it or not. He did turn in time to watch her pull away again, to watch her waving goodbye from another rear window. To wave in return.

White bird must fly or she will die
White bird must fly or she will die
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Let It Be Me [28 Mar 2006|12:19am]

His mind had not been on what he was singing. He'd gone through the old tried-and-true songs, but then he'd sung two new ones that seemed to be well-accepted as well, but his mind was very much elsewhere. He'd translated the binary into alphanumerics, but it'd been April that discovered what they actually meant. (And Kitt thought she needed to go back to the travel agency, personally - eventually, the woman was either going to velcro herself to Devon or try to crawl up Michael's pantsleg. Really.)

There was going to be setup time between his band and Class Action, and so as they left the stage, Kitt looked for Michael. He had news to tell him. Slightly worrisome news. And most of it had to do with just what setup had to deal with. Jimmy was thrilled with it of course, and he knew that if he didn't catch Michael first, Jimmy would be happy to spill the news. The fact that this concert was going to be a live telecast didn't really matter anymore.
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Let It Be Me [26 Mar 2006|12:44am]

The drive to LA had been almost tolerable.

They'd taken a rental-- Stevie didn't have her car, of course, they'd been on tour-- and Michael had managed to talk to Stevie instead of the dashboard. He did have to pull over at a rest stop and ask Stevie to drive, and tried to make a mental note of what happened.

He'd been driving, she'd been singing along with the radio.

White bird
In a golden cage
On a winter's day
In the rain
White bird
In a golden cage
All alone

The leaves blow
Across a long black road
To its darkened sky
In its rage
But the white bird
Just sits in her cage
All alone

White bird must fly or she will die
White bird must fly or she will die

Stevie worried, of course, because Michael drove. It was part of him. "Yeah, it's nothing," he told her. "I've just become a lot more concussion-prone since taking this job-- and a bookcase fell on me. I'll be okay." And once again, he'd promised to see a doctor as soon as he could.

Because a doctor, after all, could be a neurologist or a parapsychologist.

Stevie's apartment building was something old and English-styled, with brick and timber and stucco pretending to be wattle-and-daub. It suited her.

As did the apartment. Warm and pink and beige and brown, with silk flowers and hardy plants. After a couple of minor collisions with suitcases, he asked how long she'd been there. "Three... no, four months. Yeah, four." She headed straight for the kitchen-- something Michael understood well. The milk was probably off and half the fridge probably needed throwing out. "It's starting to feel like home," she called.

Michael looked around himself. Stevie always had gone for maple and cherry instead of oak or birch, which Michael preferred. His hand happened on a framed photograph. Stevie and Greg Noble, in stage costumes, her arms around him from behind. They both looked... really happy. She'd been happy. With someone else, but happy.

At least he knew why that hurt.

Deep breath, don't let it hurt, can't let it hurt now.

"Hey, where do you want this stuff, huh?" he called. Do something. That might help.

"Closet's fine-- thanks!"

... Whoo, milk must have gone bad, he was right. But Michael collected her suitcases to stash in the hall closet. Spare pillows, a couple of jackets-- hardly anything for living there four months...

Greg Noble.

Written on a bright red jacket-- it looked like the one from the photo, at least at first glance. She'd been happy-- they'd been happy. And that was why he'd never wanted her to know.

He wandered back into the dining room.

So did Stevie. "Michael, what do you want to do about--" but the closet was open, and... oh. She'd forgotten he'd left that there... "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay.
But the white bird
"It... it's not fair of me. I can't expect you to never be with another man. To never fall in love again." He wished he didn't sound so-- tired, so hurt by it. He wanted her to be happy. She was supposed to have mourned him and gotten on with her life.
Just sits in her cage
"I'm not gonna lie to you, Michael," she said, softly. "He was a wonderful man, and I loved him. But when I went to bed at night... I dreamed of you. I tried not to," she said as Michael turned to her. "I tried to forget you."
All alone
Michael didn't say anything for a long moment... just... touched her. Hands in her hair, on her neck-- and when he bent to kiss Stevie, it was gentle, sad. Neither long nor short, but quickly moved to holding her.

Just holding her.

A moment or two passed, with Michael... not knowing what to say. "Stevie? I... gotta ask you something... before I forget."

Stevie sniffed, nodded, pulled away to look up at him. "What is it, Michael?"

"There are some things of mine... I didn't get to keep. That I'd like to have with me, you know?" She went on tour at the end of all of this, after all, if all went well. "I was... wondering if you had some of them."

She was almost grateful for the distraction, and nodded. "I've got a box of things. What did you want?" She caught his hand and led him to her room, to her closet, where more private things were stored.

The search kept them until it was time to change, to head to the recording studio and shoot the video for First Night Together-- which Michael was getting pretty sick of singing, even without the headaches. Kitt was supposed to meet them there, after all, and Michael... missed him. Wanted just a moment to rest his hand on Kitt's shell, at least, if he couldn't make time for anything else.
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Concert [25 Mar 2006|05:42am]

Kitt had met his band, talked to them, gotten used to them. Most of them, he was going to get along with. His bassist, keyboardist, and drummer were all fantastic, though he felt like his second guitar needed him to prove something. All of them, though, picked up on his songs and though they needed lyrics sheets, they were ready.

He was more than impressed, and he thought, for a few moments, about how good it was to have... friends. Not exactly friends he'd known for so long or so well as Michael or Bonnie or Ray, but friends. People who had no idea he was a car... But nothing could be perfect.

His drummer, named Jason, had asked him quietly, "You're not gonna... like... hit on me or anything, are you?"

Kitt had almost fallen off his shoes.

That tale was one of a few he got to tell to Michael and Stevie over dinner, while he wasn't apologising or trying to explain. But then, almost before he knew it, he was in front of a crowd of people, all screaming their enjoyment. He opened with Waiting For the Fall, as he'd known he would. He kept the pace up with Breathe, and then eased the crowd into Let Me Go. The set ended with his ballad. And he was still smiling, happy, waving and yelling "Thank you!" to the cheers as they headed off stage, a five-person tangle of a successful concert, Kitt almost towering over all of them. Tracey was pressed against his side, because he could fend off the crowd for her - she was only five-three or so. But it was time for the band people had actually paid to come see to take the stage.

Class Action.

Michael Knight's debut as lead singer.

Lights and music and a cheering crowd, and Michael with a guitar in his hands. Blue leather-- or fake leather-- not skintight, but tight enough. And the song he'd been rehearsing for days.

"There's a look you've got in your eyes
All aglow, and so inviting," Better, he was better-- sounded good, but

something's not right

Stevie in something that looked Victorian-pretty before it had been shredded, pale pink and white gold adventure-novel heroine, 'pushing' Michael to his knees, half dancing as he sang. "Telling me you're watching my every move..."

something's not right something's wrong something's wrong

He pulled her into his lap. Her voice was as beautiful as ever, warm and soft and harmonizing with his.

"Why should we wait for a while
When your touch is so exciting
Full of fire burning beyond control, Whoa!"

He kissed her cheek. The fans loved it.

something's wrong something's wrong

They sprang to their feet, Stevie moving, Michael strumming the guitar Kitt had brought him-- it really could make anyone sound good.

"This could be our first night together
Listen to my heart and you'll know it's right
Doesn't it seem there's a spell falling over us tonight?"

Something is not right

Son of a bitch!

"This could be our first night together
If we only follow our heart's desire
Waiting like a fire to ignite, could be our first night tonight!"


The crowd went wild.

Michael hoped he was seeing lighters held in salute and not spots swimming in his vision. Stevie didn't give him a chance to blink and try to clear his sight, but took his hand and pulled him into a bow.

And another.

And then offstage. Michael had to jog to keep up.

Something's not right...
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