Title: Birds Of A Feather (formerly known as 'Jail')
Author: Tomy
Rating: PG13 - though might be upgraded later to R for violent content
Summary: Devon asks Michael to investigate a string of cruel murders inside an American Military prison.
Disclaimer: Knight Rider characters copyright Glen A Larson, etc.
Birds of a Feather copyright S Welsh
Author's Notes: This will become a very dark fic.
Thanks tons to Knightshade for the speedy beta :)
Birds Of A Feather
by Tomy
"Hey, Mike." Michael smiled brightly, recognizing the blond man as he slid into the seat across from him.
"John, what are you doing in this part of the woods?"
Arranging his burger and taking a sip of his drink, "same old, same old. The FBI gets called out to yet another domestic affair and I get the case."
"Ahh, but you're just so good at them." Michael took a sip of his drink, looking around the fast food joint out of habit.
"I hear you have a doozey case in your lap?"
Michael just eyed the man across from him for a moment; then started chuckling. "Where do you get your information?"
"Come on, Mike, we've been friends long enough for me to keep half an eye on you."
Shrugging his acknowledgement, Michael took another bite before speaking. "Devon gave me the option of this case."
"So you are taking it?"
"Yeah, why?" It was enough for Michael to pause from eating.
"Okay, I always knew you were crazy, but this is insane. You're actually willing to walk into a max security joint?! Without Kitt?!" Though John had kept his voice low, the implications came across.
"Why the sudden interest?"
John sat back. He had always envied and admired Michael Knight, despite the small amount of information Michael had given him on _how_ he landed the job. "Mike, you and I have both lost a number of friends in this field." Michael's eyes dropped for an instant. "I just don't want to lose another good friend."
"I'll be careful." Michael smiled knowingly. John just snorted darkly.
*
John didn't get many opportunities to speak with the FLAG agent anymore. They both had full caseloads, but as they said their goodbyes and he watched Kitt peel out of the parking lot, he was left with the sinking knowledge of Michael's naivety.
*
Walking into Devon's office, Michael felt a bit leery. The conversation with John had left him with a bad feeling. Striding in as he usually did, knowing Devon was expecting him, he made his way to the corner of the desk. As he was about to perch on the corner, Devon held out a folder without looking up for his mountain of paperwork.
Chuckling, Michael took it from the outstretched hand.
"I want you to be sure of this, Michael."
Michael paused in his perusal of the folder. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?" he asked slowly.
Looking up at the young man, Devon took a deep breath. "We both know what it's like inside prisons. This is a maximum security facility, catering mostly to American war criminals, or veterans gone awry. There will be little chance for us to cover you if the need arises."
"Devon, I know the deal. Guys are dying in there, I have to do something. And I can take care of myself," he added almost as an afterthought.
"I'm well aware of that." There was an easy smile accompanying Devon's words. "That isn't always enough."
Michael nodded slowly, turning back to the files in his lap. "So the warden asked us in after a string of suspicious deaths."
"Yes," Devon acknowledged the change of subject. "The only connection we can find to the deceased..."
"Other than being convicted of murder," Michael interjected only, to receive a stern look.
"...is that they are all new to the facility."
"Could this be a test of some kind?"
"Possibly. If so, that would place you in further danger."
Michael raised an eyebrow at the obvious jab. "You really don't want me to accept this, do you?"
Leaning back, fiddling with the pen in his hand, Devon decided to take the honest approach. "I'm of two schools of thought regarding this."
"I'm listening." Flipping the folder shut, he twisted on the edge of the desk.
"On one hand, there are men unjustly being murdered. Most of the deaths have been horrible, drawn out events. And I wholeheartedly believe they should be investigated and stopped." He paused for a moment to allow Michael to digest that. "On the other hand, you have come to mean a great deal to me - to most everyone at the Foundation. I'm very leery of sending you into such a dangerous situation without proper backup or resources." Devon quickly raised a hand as Michael's mouth opened. "I want you to be completely sure of this decision, and whatever it may be, I'll stand behind it."
Nodding slowly, Michael considered Devon's words. "Let me read through this. I'll sleep on it tonight and give you my answer tomorrow."
"Fair enough."
Standing, file in hand, he strode to the door with full intentions of approaching his partner with this. Pausing for a second in the doorway, he looked back towards the man who had become his mentor and father. "Devon..." He watched as the blue eyes lifted. "What you just said to me, it means a lot." An affectionate smile answered him.
*
He'd been sitting on Kitt's hood for the past three hours going over the file, trying to find a connection, possibly a reason for the attacks. Between the files in his hand, and what Kitt could dig up, he knew pretty much all there was to know about the three men, and many of the inmates. The facility wasn't overly large; though well known for violent outbursts. Not something Michael found shocking considering most of the men inside had a lot of combat experience.
"You've been awfully quiet, Partner?"
He swore he heard Kitt sigh. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course."
"What do your instincts tell you?"
"About this case?" Michael shrugged. "That I need to do something about it. That I *can* do something about it."
"So you've made your decision?"
Sitting up, Michael swung off the hood, moving to the door before dropping down inside. Rationally, there was no need for him to do this, Kitt could see him and feel him from his place on the hood, yet being inside the cabin, facing the modulator, it gave him the feeling of being closer to Kitt. "What's your instinct?" he prodded gently.
"I'm very ill-at-ease with this case."
"I had a feeling you'd say that."
"There's no way for me to protect you inside. No way for us to communicate if you need anything." There was a definite note of concern tingeing Kitt's voice.
"Yeah but, Kitt, I fought alone for many years before we met. I've been in prison and in military camps before."
"You sound very sure of yourself."
"I am." As he said it, voiced it, the feeling, the need to accomplish this settled comfortably in his gut.
Author: Tomy
Rating: PG13 - though might be upgraded later to R for violent content
Summary: Devon asks Michael to investigate a string of cruel murders inside an American Military prison.
Disclaimer: Knight Rider characters copyright Glen A Larson, etc.
Birds of a Feather copyright S Welsh
Author's Notes: This will become a very dark fic.
Thanks tons to Knightshade for the speedy beta :)
Birds Of A Feather
by Tomy
"Hey, Mike." Michael smiled brightly, recognizing the blond man as he slid into the seat across from him.
"John, what are you doing in this part of the woods?"
Arranging his burger and taking a sip of his drink, "same old, same old. The FBI gets called out to yet another domestic affair and I get the case."
"Ahh, but you're just so good at them." Michael took a sip of his drink, looking around the fast food joint out of habit.
"I hear you have a doozey case in your lap?"
Michael just eyed the man across from him for a moment; then started chuckling. "Where do you get your information?"
"Come on, Mike, we've been friends long enough for me to keep half an eye on you."
Shrugging his acknowledgement, Michael took another bite before speaking. "Devon gave me the option of this case."
"So you are taking it?"
"Yeah, why?" It was enough for Michael to pause from eating.
"Okay, I always knew you were crazy, but this is insane. You're actually willing to walk into a max security joint?! Without Kitt?!" Though John had kept his voice low, the implications came across.
"Why the sudden interest?"
John sat back. He had always envied and admired Michael Knight, despite the small amount of information Michael had given him on _how_ he landed the job. "Mike, you and I have both lost a number of friends in this field." Michael's eyes dropped for an instant. "I just don't want to lose another good friend."
"I'll be careful." Michael smiled knowingly. John just snorted darkly.
*
John didn't get many opportunities to speak with the FLAG agent anymore. They both had full caseloads, but as they said their goodbyes and he watched Kitt peel out of the parking lot, he was left with the sinking knowledge of Michael's naivety.
*
Walking into Devon's office, Michael felt a bit leery. The conversation with John had left him with a bad feeling. Striding in as he usually did, knowing Devon was expecting him, he made his way to the corner of the desk. As he was about to perch on the corner, Devon held out a folder without looking up for his mountain of paperwork.
Chuckling, Michael took it from the outstretched hand.
"I want you to be sure of this, Michael."
Michael paused in his perusal of the folder. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?" he asked slowly.
Looking up at the young man, Devon took a deep breath. "We both know what it's like inside prisons. This is a maximum security facility, catering mostly to American war criminals, or veterans gone awry. There will be little chance for us to cover you if the need arises."
"Devon, I know the deal. Guys are dying in there, I have to do something. And I can take care of myself," he added almost as an afterthought.
"I'm well aware of that." There was an easy smile accompanying Devon's words. "That isn't always enough."
Michael nodded slowly, turning back to the files in his lap. "So the warden asked us in after a string of suspicious deaths."
"Yes," Devon acknowledged the change of subject. "The only connection we can find to the deceased..."
"Other than being convicted of murder," Michael interjected only, to receive a stern look.
"...is that they are all new to the facility."
"Could this be a test of some kind?"
"Possibly. If so, that would place you in further danger."
Michael raised an eyebrow at the obvious jab. "You really don't want me to accept this, do you?"
Leaning back, fiddling with the pen in his hand, Devon decided to take the honest approach. "I'm of two schools of thought regarding this."
"I'm listening." Flipping the folder shut, he twisted on the edge of the desk.
"On one hand, there are men unjustly being murdered. Most of the deaths have been horrible, drawn out events. And I wholeheartedly believe they should be investigated and stopped." He paused for a moment to allow Michael to digest that. "On the other hand, you have come to mean a great deal to me - to most everyone at the Foundation. I'm very leery of sending you into such a dangerous situation without proper backup or resources." Devon quickly raised a hand as Michael's mouth opened. "I want you to be completely sure of this decision, and whatever it may be, I'll stand behind it."
Nodding slowly, Michael considered Devon's words. "Let me read through this. I'll sleep on it tonight and give you my answer tomorrow."
"Fair enough."
Standing, file in hand, he strode to the door with full intentions of approaching his partner with this. Pausing for a second in the doorway, he looked back towards the man who had become his mentor and father. "Devon..." He watched as the blue eyes lifted. "What you just said to me, it means a lot." An affectionate smile answered him.
*
He'd been sitting on Kitt's hood for the past three hours going over the file, trying to find a connection, possibly a reason for the attacks. Between the files in his hand, and what Kitt could dig up, he knew pretty much all there was to know about the three men, and many of the inmates. The facility wasn't overly large; though well known for violent outbursts. Not something Michael found shocking considering most of the men inside had a lot of combat experience.
"You've been awfully quiet, Partner?"
He swore he heard Kitt sigh. "Can I ask you a question?"
"Of course."
"What do your instincts tell you?"
"About this case?" Michael shrugged. "That I need to do something about it. That I *can* do something about it."
"So you've made your decision?"
Sitting up, Michael swung off the hood, moving to the door before dropping down inside. Rationally, there was no need for him to do this, Kitt could see him and feel him from his place on the hood, yet being inside the cabin, facing the modulator, it gave him the feeling of being closer to Kitt. "What's your instinct?" he prodded gently.
"I'm very ill-at-ease with this case."
"I had a feeling you'd say that."
"There's no way for me to protect you inside. No way for us to communicate if you need anything." There was a definite note of concern tingeing Kitt's voice.
"Yeah but, Kitt, I fought alone for many years before we met. I've been in prison and in military camps before."
"You sound very sure of yourself."
"I am." As he said it, voiced it, the feeling, the need to accomplish this settled comfortably in his gut.