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Lessons in Play

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Knight Rider Characters copyright Glen A Larson etc, etc....
Thanks piles to Knightshade for the beta! :)

Lessons in Play
by Tomy

Bonnie sat alone at a table on the back veranda, drinking her juice, nibbling on a croissant. Like many of the various Foundation staff sitting at the outside tables while having breakfast, she watched the two partners at the top of the hill playing. Michael was crouched, ready to evade whatever Kitt threw at him - physically and metaphorically in this case. Michael's occasional laughter could be heard, along with the low murmuring of Kitt's taunting.

The car spun, Michael barely avoiding being grazed by the black skin. He turned, launching himself back towards his partner. Kitt swung the rear end, narrowly escaping Michael's long reach. Tyres spun, kicking up grass as they continued on and on.

'Devon's going to have a coronary when he hears of the damage they're causing to the lawn,' Bonnie absently thought as Michael let out a whoop as Kitt just about bumped him.

Obviously Kitt could easily out strategise Michael, out think, out manoeuver - yet somehow Michael remained out of reach. And it wasn't for Kitt's lack of trying. With all their roughhousing, Kitt had yet to cause more than a small bruise on his partner. It had taken a few years of watching them 'play' like this before she had realised just how important of a tool it was. It kept Michael sharp - knowing that Kitt would never hurt him he could taunt and teach and basically let loose with his unorthodox tactics that kept him alive out in the field. Kitt, on the other hand (or tyre in this case), learned more conventional tactics, learned what RC affectionately called 'Street Fighting', though Michael never got as down right dirty in his tactics as they all knew things became. It was a competition, one that Kitt used to win with ease.

Another yell from the ridge caught her attention as Michael leaped, sliding across the hood, then somehow managed to miss the tree directly in his path as he jumped the hedge. Kitt called something back at his partner that dissolved Michael into a fit of laughter. Kitt had recently discovered the lovely trait of true whining - annoying tone and all. Bonnie could just imagine hearing the soft, Boston accent; 'That was not fair, Michael." To Michael's response of "When did fairness factor into this?" She chuckled to herself as she continued to watch.

So much for Michael's day off. Then again, having known the two of them for a number of years now, they, like herself and RC, had a rough time sitting still for any period of time. Michael's life depended on his fitness level remaining quite high. In return he was on the move constantly. What she, and now half the Foundation's staff, were witnessing was as close to relaxation as they got. Stress relief, energy expulsion, fitness and training all wrapped into one.

Reaching across the table, she tore off another bit of croissant and popped it in her mouth.

"Tag! You're It!" Michael's jubilant cry easily reached them all along with the smack of his hand against the spoiler. Many of the staff around her laughed openly in response.

Huffing happily, Michael jogged down to her table. Grabbing her untouched glass of water, he gulped half of it down. "Thanks." Kitt rolled to a stop beside them, his prow resting over the first step.

"You're not welcome." She tried to glare at him as he dropped into the metal chair across from her. Failing miserably, and knowing he knew, she tried for another tactic. "Now you've gotten your cooties all over it."

Michael's face registered surprise as Kitt spoke up. "Cooties? Isn't that a bit childish?"

At Kitt's somewhat innocent, yet petulant question, they both bust into laughter.

Okay, so she could be just as immature at times. It was more fun to keep the guys on their toes.

fin
July 21, 2004