Jamie felt like every eye was upon her as she walked back into the office complex early Monday morning.

'No one knows what's being going on.' She told herself. And no one did. Her suspension had been kept under wraps as per company policy. If they were looking at her, which they were, it was because she had just spent a month with Michael Knight on assignment. Details of which she was sure had made their rounds. Tidbits like the fact that she and Michael were undercover as a couple would certainly have been over exaggerated.

Tossing her wallet onto her desk; it all looked as it had when she left, yet she felt like a completely different person. She still hurt, physically. Mentally, she was a mess. Her thoughts kept drifting to Michael, to her last conversation with him and the hurt expression on his face when he left. Yet again, she'd gone about it the wrong way. He was the last person she had intended to push away.

Leaning back in her chair, she looked around as her computer booted up. It was all so familiar, so comfortingly familiar. Smiling and relaxing she watched as her email agent ran, asking her for a password. Sighing, she set to work - sorting though the emails and filing.


*

Michael paced the garage.

Bonnie shook her head, she had never seem him like this. Moving quietly, she continued her check of Kitt's systems. Whatever was stressing Michael was stressing Kitt as well; yet neither of them spoke. Michael just continued to pace and Kitt's readings continued to fluctuate.

"Alright." She moved from Kitt, slamming his hood. Maybe if she could get them to open up, talk about it, then a doorway might open to release whatever was bothering them. Michael had paused at the far end of the garage, behind Kitt, looking at her. "Out with it."

"What?" He truly looked baffled.

That frightened her. Usually Michael was on the ball, acutely aware of everything that was going on around him. "What's bothering you?"

"What makes...." He stopped, realizing that his behavior was a clear give away. Throwing his arms in the air in exasperation, he hefted himself onto Kitt's trunk, sitting just behind the spoiler. "I really screwed it up this time, Bon." He spoke with his head in his hands.

"How so?"

"For one, I can't seem to crack this case."

"Jamie did warn you how difficult fraud cases were in the horse industry." She knew him, almost too well, and with the mention of Jamie's name, his body tensed - ever so slightly - but after so many years working closely with him, she caught the subtle reaction. "What happened Michael?"

"Did you know that Wilkins is Jamie's father?" He lifted his head enough to catch her dazed reaction. "None of us did." He continued after a moment to allow her to regain her wits. "After the Board meeting, I asked Kitt to look into it, he compared photos, facial features and we were pretty sure that he was related to her in some way."

"But with the way he's been treating her..."

"It gets worse." That stopped her. "He invited Ja over to his place yesterday while Kitt and I were out checking into a lead. He apologized for his behavior and told her two things. One, she's reinstated and two..."

"That he's her father. My God, Michael. How did she handle it?"

"Kitt and I stopped by her place on the way back, I wanted to tell her what we'd uncovered. Instead she asked me why I didn't tell her about Wilkins." He dropped his head back into his hands, slowly rubbing his temples.

"How did she know that you knew?" Michael's head snapped up. "You never thought of that?"

"No. I didn't. How the hell did he figure it out? I haven't spoken to him, or even seen him for that matter."

"Or was it just a ploy?"

Michael half shrugged, "possibly."

"He's not overly fond of you."

This time Michael snorted. "I noticed. Though I'm not sure why. Unless it's the same reason half the Board can't stand me." Hopping off the car, he strode to the door with renewed purpose. "I think I have a visit to make." He paused reaching for the door, turning to face Bonnie. "Thank you." He bent, kissing her cheek before climbing into the car and tooling out of the garage.

"Anytime." Bonnie waved, chuckling and shaking her head at the fading form of the partners.


*


"Do you have any idea what you are going to say once you are in there?"

Michael glanced down at the voice box. "I dunno. I guess I'll wing it."

"As usual." Michael threw and evil look at the dash as he climbed out.



The house was magnificent, and sent warning signals down Michael's spine. Wilkins' butler lead him though the extensive foyer to what appeared to be the living room. Another vast room, though cluttered with oversized burgundy furniture, wall hangings and end tables. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason for the patterns or colours - other than the obvious - he wanted to display his wealth. The butler left him to peruse the room. Michael found himself surprisingly unimpressed. After the elegance and decorum of the Foundation's mansion, this room literally hurt his eyes.

"Knight?"

Michael turned to face Wilkins. The man appeared to have grown in the past few weeks. He was dressed as impeccably as usual in a blue pinstripe suit and white shirt - a stark contrast to Michael's own black jeans and white dress shirt. Oddly, it made him feel inadequate.

"What brings you to my home?"

"A few unanswered questions."

"Such as?"

Wilkins appeared relaxed, too relaxed in Michael's opinion.

"Such as how you knew that I had pegged you as Jamie's father?"

Smiling, almost warmly, Dave Wilkins approached the man in the middle of his sitting room. "So you've seen her? How is she holding up?"

Michael felt himself softening. "Better than expected."

"To answer your question, you have a remarkable reputation as an investigator. Knowing that, and the way you looked at me near the end of the Board meeting, it didn't take much for me to assume that you had an idea."

It seemed plausible, as much as Michael hated to admit it. The man seemed to be on the level. He sighed, shaking his head slightly. This was not how he had imagined this meeting going.

"Why did you drag me into it?"

"I'm sorry? I don't understand your question."

"When you were talking to Ja, why did you mention me?"

"I thought it was pertinent that she know."

"Know what?"

"That you were keeping important information from her." Michael just looked at the dark haired man. "She could do so much better."

"Better than what?" Michael felt that feeling of inadequacy surround him again, as well as a sense great unease.

"Better than you, of course." Wilkins walked around Michael, almost like he was inspecting a piece of meat. "Your lifestyle leaves a lot to be desired by a woman. In every regard." He threw Michael a knowing glance.

"It's her decision. Not yours."

"She is my daughter and I plan on looking out for her welfare."

"Why now? You've never had any interest in her life before?"

In retrospect, he should have been expecting it. It was foolishness on his part to have let his guard down. But, as he realized he was on the ground, with his face stinging from the blow, starring up at the man standing over him, he felt small and tired for the first time in a long time.

"She is mine, and I have *always* had an interest. I consider you to be the first big mistake of her life." He turned on his heel, dismissing Michael as he strode from the room, not bothering to glance back.

Michael slowly picked himself off the floor, his mind refusing to wrap around the events that just occurred. He'd never been treated this way before. Never been cast off in such a manner.

Straightening himself, he made his way back out.


Seeing Kitt actually brought a pang of something inside Michael. Was it regret?? No, he couldn't regret his life with Kitt and the Foundation. Or was it self loathing? He'd never questioned his lifestyle before; not like this. Without a word, he dropped into the seat and started the car.




Halfway to he Foundation, he changed his mind and altered their course. Kitt had been expecting it. Michael sat tensely, silently in the seat. There was a look in his eyes that disturbed the AI. Michael was not talking about the events that occurred inside the house, and Kitt did not want to pressure his partner to delve into Wilkins' actions, or Michael's response to them. The bruise on Michael's left cheekbone was prominent, bright blue and black against his skin.

Parking in front of the office building, Michael left his worried partner and strode through the glass doors.

Jamie had been so caught up in proofreading reports that she didn't hear Michael approach. He dropped to one knee, swinging her chair to face him, too unsure of where he stood in her life to do much else, to do what he desperately wanted and needed.

Jamie's startled expression changed quickly as she noticed the bruise that seemed to grow before her eyes. Without thinking she reached out and touched it, caressing his face.

Michael's eyes closed as he let out a shuddering breath.

"What happened?" She asked in barely a whisper.

"I went to see your father."

"He hit you?" Michael nodded slowly. "Why?"

"I need to know something first, Ja. I need an honest answer." He searched her for a moment with almost begging eyes. "I need to know that my lifestyle doesn't bother you. That it..."

Jamie placed a finger on his lips, silencing him. "We've talked about this. I meant what I said before, and I'll say it again. Yes, it bothers me at times, but it's what you need to be doing."

"Then maybe we..."

Leaning forward, she placed a kiss firmly to his lips. "Don't you dare say it." She had backed away only far enough to be able to speak. "This is worth it. I'm sorry for the things I said earlier. We both know what he thinks of you. But please, don't let him make you doubt yourself. Or us."

Rising up, he reached around her, hugging her as he had wanted to since he left Wilkins' estate.

"What did he say to you?" She clung to him, feeling him shake as he nuzzled into her neck.

"He said I was the biggest mistake of your life." He forced himself to relax; to let go. This was too public a place for their display. So far they had been granted privacy, but that wouldn't last.

"And you believed him?" Somehow she managed to ask with not only gentleness, but with the right tone for Michael to know that she felt quite the opposite. "Why did he hit you?"

"I told him that it was up to you to decide who you see, not him. I asked him why he was all of a sudden sticking his nose into your business."

"For that he slugged you?" Michael nodded. Her head dropped. "I should have stood up for you, for our relationship when he and I spoke."

"No," he shook his head, "you shouldn't need to. You've had a lot on your mind."

"And lately it's been you that's been on my mind." She shyly admitted. "I've been on my own a long time, Mi. I don't need, or really want a father peeking over my shoulder. Devon has acted as my father since Wilton died, and I respect his opinion a great deal." She watched, a slow smile spreading across her face as Michael relaxed.

"Can we get outta here?" He asked surreptitiously, looking around.

Jamie checked her watch. She had come in early, and skipped lunch trying to catch up. 3:30 she read. "Why the hell not?" Smiling, she reached to save and shut down her computer.





Michael parked in Jamie's driveway, leading her gently to her doorway. She had been quiet all the way home, though he hadn't felt any tension from her.

Closing the door behind them, he swung her around, her back against the door, catching her face between his hands, kissing her before she had time to react. Immediately her arms circled his neck, fingers sliding through his curly hair as she arched, standing on tip toe, letting him know she wanted this.

Michael's comlink beeped just as they heard movement from the centre of the room.

Michael spun, ready to protect Jamie.

"That wasn't quite what I was expecting to see when I decided to wait."

"What are you doing in here?" Jamie asked, stepping around Michael, flustered at the interruption and angered at his intrusion into her home.

Wilkins moved from the couch. "I thought I'd surprise you." He pointed to the kitchen in which he had laid out an extravagant dinner. "Figuring you had a difficult day at work, I tried to save you the trouble of cooking."

There was something in Wilkins' eyes, a smugness that Michael didn't like. He glanced at Jamie, trying to ask her silently what she wanted.

Glancing up at the man whose arms she wanted to be back in, she knew what he was feeling. Lord only knew how tonight would have progressed. In her mind's eye, she had an idea blossoming, but quickly squelched it. It wasn't going to happen now. Sighing, she made up her mind.

"I'll walk you out, Michael." His look tore her heart. "I'll be back in a minute," she threw towards her father.



Leading him out the garage door, she closed it firmly behind her. Once down the stairs she turned to him.

"I'm sorry. I'm not choosing him over you." She placed her hand against his cheekbone, feeling the heat from the swelling and bruise. "I have to deal with him. Maybe I'm foolish, but I feel secure enough in our relationship to be able to ask you to come back later."

As soon as she said it, Michael felt himself relax. "Okay. I don't trust him, but it's not my decision." He returned the gentle caress. "I'll go for a drive, come back after dark. Okay?"

"Okay," she nodded, reaching for a hug before he left.

"Be careful," he added as he opened Kitt's door.



Jamie watched them disappear down the street before she returned to her house. Wilkins had set the table and set out some of the food. She wasn't sure of this. Some of Michael's unease had rubbed off on her. Plus his audacity of breaking into her home. She felt her anger rise again. He had no right to take such liberties.


"I hope you like chicken."

"Why are you here?" There was no point in beating around the bush.

Wilkins's smile faded. "Trying to get to know you. To make an effort."

"By breaking into my home?" Jamie stood by the kitchen table, arms crossed in front of her chest.

Standing slowly, Wilkins faced the girl. "I'm doing it again huh? Trying too hard and coming across with guns a blazen'." He frowned thoughtfully.

"Look," Jamie leaned on the back of a chair across the table from him. "I appreciate the effort, but there is a respect factor. When I come home, I don't want to find an unexpected visitor inside my house. You could have called, or waited outside. I'm not one for surprises. I've had too many of them lately."

"I apologize if I overstepped my boundaries here, but I am concerned about you."

"Why? There is no need."

"Why?" He asked incredulously. "Because of the display I was witness to."

Jamie just looked at him. "If you hadn't broken into my house, you wouldn't have seen it." She threw back at him venomously.

"I didn't break in..." He stopped himself as she looked at him, expecting more. "I stopped you from a very large mistake."

"What very large...?" Then she caught on. "Michael is not a mistake."

"Really? That man is a playboy. He's known for it. What can he give you? Other than some disease?"

Jamie couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You really fall for that company gossip crap?" She backed away, closing her jacket around herself. "You don't know him, yet you accuse him of being a male slut. You are the one who had an affair with a married woman. Maybe you need to take a long hard look in the mirror." Clamping on her temper, she moved to the door. "I think it's time you left."

Wilkins' face fell. He considered his next move. She was hopping mad, and the last thing he wanted was to make things worse. "All right, I'll go. We both need to cool off. I'll come back tomorrow after work?" He stood in the open door.

"Okay. I'll meet you here after five."

Smiling and nodding, "good. Enjoy your dinner. Consider it another apology for being overbearing."


*


Pulling into Jamie's driveway after eight, Michael wasn't sure what to expect.

"She's alone." Kitt informed him. "And unharmed." He answered the question that hung in the air.

"Thanks, Pal." He heaved himself out of the car, half afraid of what awaited him this time.


Jamie pulled the door open as he reached it. Her smiling face was a sight for his sore eyes, and face.

"Well?" the curiosity was killing him.

"We fought." Jamie made her way over to the table. "I waited for you. I'm starving, how 'bout you?"

Laughing, Michael pulled out a chair for her. "Starving too, now that you mention it." Once settled, he continued the topic. "What did you two fight about?"

Swallowing, facing him as he sat comfortably across from her, Jamie didn't want to ruin the mood. She knew she had to tell him, and the sooner the better. "You." She answered simply.

Michael put down the bread he was chewing on. "I thought as much. Can I ask what it is about me that he despises so much?"

"Being blunt, and pardoning the phrasing, he thinks you're a slut."

"It's not the first time. Ja, I'm not perfect, but I've never..."

"Michael," she stopped him, not wanting to know. "It's none of my business."

"Yes it is. If we are to have a relationship, you need to know you can trust me when I'm on the road for weeks at a time."

"I do trust you." There was no hesitation, she honestly believed in him.

"There hasn't been anyone since Stevie died." He focused on his plate as he told her. Looking up only when no response was forthcoming. Her eyes were misted over in realization of not only his words, but his actions.

"I had no idea."

"I couldn't. Stevie and I had a connection, one I thought I'd never find again. Until now; now that I've found something more." The tension in the room was high, but it was a pleasant tension. A knowing look entered her eyes as she began eating again. There was no need to expand on this.



Jamie woke as her alarm sounded. The sun was shining though her curtains as she rolled over. Reaching out, she was disappointed to find the bed empty. They had finished dinner, cleaned up, watched an action movie on tv, then crawled into bed cuddling and talking about nothing specific before finally falling asleep. Sitting up, she spotted the note on the mirrored dresser.

Ja,

Devon called me in early this morning. I didn't have the heart to wake you. I'll call you as soon as I know what's going on.

I love you


Jamie's hand began to shake as she finished reading. Then she reread the note to be sure. He'd said it. Not exactly from his lips, but it was here, on paper, forever for her to read. The warmth of that confirmed knowledge surrounded her. With a new found energy, she proceeded through her day.


*


With a quick rap on Devon's door, Michael strode into the office, perching himself on the corner of the desk, waiting for his boss to complete his phone conversation.

As the older man hung up, Michael's expression faded.

"What?" Michael asked. Dread was becoming an all too familiar feeling to him.

"You had requested insurance information some time ago."

"Yeah, and it came up clean."

"Too clean. Bonnie and Kitt have continued their search."

"Why do I have a sinking feeling here?"

"Justifiably so. We have located an extended mortality insurance policy for Brittany," Devon picked up a sheet of fax paper. "Issued 1981, for a value not to exceed one hundred thousand American dollars."

"The recipient being David Wilkins." Michael finished.

"Yes. This has not been canceled and was very well hidden."

"I don't understand what his game is." Standing, he ran a hand through his hair. "What could he want with her Devon? I went to see Jamie, drove her home and he was there, waiting for her, inside her house."

"Inside? That's peculiar and intriguing."

"Intriguing?" Michael parroted. "Wait a minute. There was no sign of forced entry. This isn't the first time he's been inside her house."

"It's doubtful. I expect the listening device was planted by him." Nodding, Michael perched on the desk again.

"But why? To scare her? She's not the type to go running to her new found daddy for help."

"Perhaps he thought she might be."

"Or he would materialize to comfort her after Britt's death."

"That would tie in with Mathers' death."

"This case is starting to fall in line. I gotta go find her." Rushing from the office, leaving Devon startled and amazed at Michael's sudden change in focus. 'Yes,' Devon thought to himself. 'That relationship has developed into what I suspected it would.' Shaking his head, he groaned at the never ending stack of papers on his desk.




"Michael, I'm not sure I understand what you and Devon were discussing inside." Kitt inquired as they peeled off Foundation property.

"I'm trying to unravel Wilkins' motives, Pal."

"His opinion of you is well known."

Michael smirked at his partner. "Yeah, but that doesn't explain his familiar treatment towards Ja."

"What do you mean 'familiar'?"

"Waiting for her inside her house. That one nags at me, and I can't put my finger on why."

"You have done similar."

"Only after being invited and you were in the driveway to let her know I was inside. She didn't just walk in and find me." Shifting in the seat, only half concentrating on driving, Michael voiced his thought process. "Okay, let's assume Wilkins planted the bug in Ja's house."

"That could have been a simple case of Wilkins wanting to know what his daughter was up to. Possibly to find a common ground."

Michael nodded, considering that angle. "Could be, but I don't buy it. Ja and I were known to be seeing each other by that point. I think he wanted to know about us."

"It's a simple motivation."

"Too simple. We're missing the bigger picture here."

Waiting at a light Michael tapped the steering wheel, lost in confusion. "Assuming he's behind the bugging, how did he know about Mathers?"

"By continuing the surveillance on Jamie."

"But how?"

"Trish." Both voices echoed inside the cabin.

"This opens up a whole new can of worms."

"Kitt... that would mean that Wilkins masterminded the fraud."

"That's a bit of a leap don't you think?"

"Listen to this one, see how it sits in your circuits. Trish knew Devon and Wilton from when she and Ja rode together years ago. Wilton knew about Wilkins. Wilkins contributes to Ja's life on the wayside, possibly buying Britt - which would account for the insurance policy. Trish wants out of the horse world, she and Wilkins conceive this plan to make them some money, and concocting solid reasoning for Trish to pack it in. They call us in, in an attempt to discredit us and to separate me and Jamie. But it backfires when Devon asks Ja to join the case. They back off, unsure of what their next move should be. Then turn up the heat, showing my incompetence while Wilkins cooks up the suspension. Again that backfires when Ja decides to say on at Greenlands. So Wilkins decides to go after Britt, but Mathers screwed up, almost killing Jamie in the process."

"That mistake cost Jeremy Mathers his life."

Michael nodded as the pieces began to fall into place. "Wilkins had him killed."

"All the while pretending to be the good father to Jamie and trying to discredit us in some fashion."

"I don't think this has anything to do with you, Kitt."

"If it affects you, then it affects me. If he were to be successful in undermining you, then you would be replaced..." Kitt trailed off.

"Kitt, we talked about this not that long ago. The decision would be yours as to where you remained."

"Would it be possible, Michael? For me to follow you?"

"Yes, it would. I may not be able to keep you in tip top shape to start with, but I do have enough contacts to continue working and making a great deal of money in the process."

"Then why stay with the Foundation?"

Michael smiled at the innocent question. "Because Kitt, not all the jobs are as morally.... correct. I couldn't take anything blatantly over the line, but the grayer areas we would have to discuss if the time ever arose."

"Then I hope it never does."

"Me too, Pal." Michael turned onto Jamie's road. "How does that theory sound to you?"

"Frighteningly plausible."

"Do we tell her?"

"Yes I believe we should, but she's not home."

"Damn." Michael sighed as he drove by the bungalow, glancing at his watch, 9:30, she'd be at work. Swinging back towards home, he figured it best to wait until after hours to talk to her. This was going to take some explaining.



*




Jamie walked into Wilkins house. He had called her asking her if she could meet him there instead of her place. Jamie thought it had more to do with him wanting to avoid Michael than anything else.

Wilkins smiled as the young woman was escorted into the sitting room. Standing, he faced her, motioning for her to take a seat and offering her a drink.

Jamie sat in the uncomfortable leather chair, declining the offer. He had that look again, similar to what she had seen back at Greenlands.

"You look so much like your mother." He began, sitting down, leaning his elbows on his knees.

"Why did you stay quiet so long?"

"Wilton said it was better for you if I remained out of your life. I know," he held up a hand. "I didn't have to listen to him. But I bent to his wishes, and your mother's for that matter."

"Okay, so why now?"

"I think you know why."

"Because of Michael?" The man across from her nodded. "I don't understand where your attitude towards him comes from."

"It's simple really." The dark haired man leaned back in the chair across from her. "Despite my actions, I believe in family."

"What does that have to do with my relationships?"

"Knight is constantly on the road. Yes, he can financially support a wife and children, but what about being a family man?" He stopped as he watched Jamie's head drop. "What?"

"That's not a concern."

Wilkins just looked at the petite red head. "How can that not be a consideration?"

A moment of silence passed before he exhaled. "Still, what about you, your needs?"

"I've been alone for a very long time. And I do have a strong support group around me."

Wilkins snorted. "That's not what I'm talking about and you know it."

"I'm not a nympho - if that's what you are implying."

"That's not what it looked like yesterday." Jamie jerked, eyes narrowing in shock and embarrassment. "It is ultimately your decision, but know that I will fight tooth and nail against this relationship."

"Where do you get off telling me who I can see and who I can't??" Jamie slowly stood, her temper getting the better of her.

"You don't have to like my opinions to respect them."

"What about you respecting my opinions?"

"You are too young to know what you want. You have a great opportunity to experience as many relationships as possible."

"Is that what you did?" Jamie threw back. "Look where it got you."

She never saw it coming, she only felt herself land back on the couch. Wilkins had stepped around the coffee table to stand over her. His face red in his fury. "I gave you everything that's important to you." He grabbed the front of her shirt, lifting her off the couch. Kicking out, Jamie heard his grunt of pain as she connected with his shin. Manoeuvering himself closer to her, he made it practically impossible for her to get another powerful shot in. "You are like your mother. Spiteful, stubborn and stupid.. I broke her and I can do the same with you."

Jamie's ears rang as she felt herself falling again. She felt his fist connect with the side of her face. Her body twisted in mid-air, she reached out, trying to stop herself, protect herself as she fell. Rolling off the couch she hit the coffee table. Her head exploded in pain. She hadn't stopped falling when he stuck out again and her world went black.


*

Michael ran through the emergency entrance. Hearing his name called he altered direction to meet Devon near the admissions desk.

"How is she?"

"Still unconscious." Devon informed him. Placing a hand on Michael's tense shoulder, he lead him to the empty waiting area before filling the distraught man in on what he knew. "She was found in a ditch just off the main freeway on the outskirts of town. She's been badly beaten."

"Do they have any idea who did this to her?"

"They are taking samples from her as they examine her."

"Was there any sign of...?"

"I don't know." Devon cut him off, trying to stress that he had no further information on Jamie's condition. "I am listed as her next of kin; I called you as soon as I arrived."

"She's been in there that long with no word?"

"I'm afraid so. I informed them of her prior injuries. Do you know where she was headed?"

Michael shook his head. "No. Bonnie was going over Kitt , then I had planned on going over to her place to tell her what we had uncovered."

Devon nodded slowly. "What are the chances of this being a random attack?"

Michael glared at his boss, "I don't believe in coincidences."

"Neither do I, but it is a possibility, slim as it may be." They both turned as the doors behind them closed.



The doctor had tended to Michael on a number of occasions and recognized the two men approaching him. Biting back a sarcastic comment he nodded, acknowledging them silently instead . "May I ask your association with this young lady before I begin?"

Devon answered, "Jamie is my foster daughter, Michael is her boyfriend." Michael cringed, he had always hated that word.

The slim, grey haired doctor seemed satisfied. "She was badly beaten before she was deposited in the ditch. We are fairly sure she was attacked at another location. She has a concussion and a great deal of internal bruising. You had said she had broken ribs beforehand?"

Michael nodded. "She fell off a horse a few weeks ago; broke a few ribs and punctured her lung."

"Her ribs are re injured and she has dislocated her left shoulder. We ran a CT scan just as a precaution, and it came back clean. There was no sign of sexual trauma, or weapons being used. She'll make a full recovery in time."

"Can I see her?" Michael asked.

"For a short period." Devon nodded at Michael, allowing him the few minutes with Jamie alone. She would want to be with him, Devon was sure.

"I'll be back in ten minutes." The doctor informed Michael after leading him to Jamie's room.

"Thank you." Whatever the doctor saw in Michael, it softened him.


Michael wasn't expecting Jamie's condition as he walked up to the bedside. Her face was black and blue. A large, white bandage covered her right temple and extended into her still damp hair. She had always appeared pale to him, her hair fiery against her complexion; now she looked washed out, her dark red hair limp and lifeless against the pillow. Dropping to one knee beside the bed, he took her hand in his, kissing it softly.

"It was Wilkins, wasn't it, Ja?" he whispered to her, knowing she couldn't respond. "I'll find the evidence needed to nail him; I promise you, he won't walk away from this." Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the second comlink and buckled it to her right wrist.

"I've got it, Michael." Kitt's voice seemed almost too loud in the small room. Devon was taking care of her hospital arrangements. He had promised to look out for each and everyone of them, and proved it on an all too regular basis. "Her vitals are strong." Michael let out a breath. "I've also tapped into the camera system inside the hospital." He chuckled despite himself.

"She will recover."

"I know." The fury had returned to Michael's voice. "She didn't deserve this."

"No, she didn't. We will make sure it doesn't happen again."

"How much time do I have left, Kitt?"

"Only a few minutes. I'll give you some privacy."

Standing he reached over, caressing her face, his fingers sliding though her drying hair. She had been so vibrant in his arms the night before. Damn Wilkins for his interference!

Bending close, he placed a small kiss on her bruised lips. With a steadying breath, he moved away from her bed, a plan already forming in his head.



"Where to, Michael?" Kitt waited until they were out of the city before posing the question.

"Greenlands."

"Whatever for?" came the surprised question.

"To poke, prod or threaten Trish."

"Michael, I understand your anger, but..."

"No buts, Kitt. It ends now. What if Wilkins gets wind we suspect Trish and he does away with her too?"

"You have a point."

"If we can get Trish to talk, we crack this case."

"What if we are wrong about Wilkins?"

Michael paused. "I don't know Kitt."

"Let me drive."

"I'm alright."

"You are not. You are tired and your stress level is highly elevated."

"I need to keep my mind on something."


Kitt watched his partner in silence while monitoring both comlinks. He had the feed from the hospital on his monitor, though he would lose that shortly as the traveled further away. The comlink they wouldn't lose track of. It was something that had bothered Bonnie, that if he and Michael were separated only the homing signal connected them. After a few modifications and some ingenious use of satellite communications, the comlink had unlimited range. They had yet to be too far apart that they couldn't transmit. It had saved Michael's life on a few occasions. Now it was a security blanket for them to have all the information on Jamie accessible at a moment's notice.



Four hours later they pulled into the driveway. Michael had not wasted any time with speed limits. Only the frequent small towns had slowed their pace.

"Where is she?" he asked, noting that the place looked unusually empty.

"In the barn, Michael."

"Thank you."

Michael pulled up to the barn's side entrance. "Keep and eye out would you, Pal?"

"Of course."

Standing, he scanned the area with his eyes, an old habit that caught movement behind the shed by the house.

"It's Rick." Kitt answered before Michael could voice the question.

Striding into the barn, he went straight to the tackroom.

Trish turned, squeaking in surprise as she bumped into Michael. Glancing at him, she instantly knew what he was there for.

"Where's Jamie?" She stalled for time.

"In the hospital." Michael's voice was menacingly low. "By chance do you know a guy by the name of Wilkins?" Taking hold of her upper arm, Michael dragged the woman outside.

"Is she okay? What happened to her?"

"Someone beat her half to death."

"My God." Trish looked truly horrified. Michael shoved her towards Kitt. Dropping heavily onto the warm hood, she glanced at the irate man standing in front of her. He had every reason to be upset. "I never thought he'd hurt her." Michael's expression changed to one of almost relief.

"Tell me what you know and we will protect you."

Slumping against the hood, she began her story. "All I wanted was out of this, I never thought of hurting the horses." She glanced at Michael as he stood with his arms crossed. "Mr. Wilkins thought of that. He wanted the money from Britt's insurance. He never did say why. So we figured a few horses, we'd split the insurance money, I'd sell and retire and he go about his business. Once it started, he wanted more money, more horse deaths. I couldn't stand it, so I called Devon. I had no idea Jamie would be coming with you."

"Did Wilkins mention Jamie?"

"A few times. He wanted to know what she was doing and to know about your relationship with her." Michael nodded, his jaw clenched. It was just as he had suspected.

"Michael..." Kitt called out as Rick moved towards them. "He's armed."

"What are you doing Trish?" Rick raised the gun

Michael glanced at the small man. "Get in the car." He ordered Trish. She moved across to the passenger door and climbed in, not questioning him.

"You," he shifted the gun to Michael. "I should have done this sooner. Once you're dead I'll hunt down that pretty piece of yours and have my way with her."

Waiting, knowing he was being baited, he glowered at Rick. "She's far too much woman for you to handle."

"It's not like you'd know." Rick continued to approach.

Michael smirked knowingly. "Relationships progress."

Rick was almost within reach.

"Michael!" Kitt yelled as Rick's finger moved.

Diving over the car, Michael heard the gun fire. Peering over Kitt, Rick fired another shot that ricocheted off the windscreen. "Think you divert him, Pal?"

"I can knock him on his ass." Kitt spoke quietly through the comlink with underlying hatred.

"Sounds good to me." Feeling the engine come to life, vibrating under his hands in silent mode, Michael backed away, still covered by the car, but allowing Kitt to take care of their current problem.

In a blink Kitt had crossed the lane, bumping Rick off his feet. Michael was over Kitt's roof and on top of the man before Rick realized he was on the ground. Driving a short distance, Kitt placed his tyre over the gun Michael had tossed from Rick's hand.

"Now then. I expect you to play nice and tell me your part in this little charade."

Rick swallowed. He had seen desperate and angry men before, but this man was terrifying, and the car - it moved on its own. Michael laughed to himself as he saw Rick's beady eyes dart over to Kitt before returning to his own. Hefting the man off the gravel, he dropped him on Kitt's hood, knowing it hurt the person a lot more than the AI.

"For God's sake, tell him." Trish had climbed out of the car.

"I was hired to kill the horses."

"You hired Mathers?" Michael asked, relaxing somewhat again.

"Yeah, but I just told him to kill the mare, not the rider."

"I figured that the methods were left to Mathers' discretion."

"I haven't heard from him in a few days." Rick admitted, still appearing scared out of his wits.

Michael shook his head. "That's 'cause he's dead." He turned to Kitt as Rick absorbed this tidbit. "How far are the Authorities Kitt?"

"ETA two minutes, Michael."

Rick sprang off the car, backing into a very amused Michael. "Thank you, Kitt." Grabbing onto the sleazy man, he held on, more afraid he'd run if Kitt hiccuped then when the cops showed up.


*





Devon walked into his office and paused at the strange sight. Michael was sitting in a chair, gazing out the french doors.

"Do we have the warrant?" Michael asked without shifting his position.

"Yes and I am sending another agent in."

Michael stood in one fluid move; fuming he faced his boss. "Why? This is my case."

"Yes, and you have completed it." Devon remained calm, trying to diffuse the smoldering anger in Michael's eyes. He respected Michael, loved him, but he couldn't allow Michael to pursue Wilkins. As upset as they all were, it was better to leave his apprehension to the local authorities.

"Why not let me get him?"

Devon threw a look at Michael. "You know very well why." To his credit, Michael relaxed slightly, his head dropping as he let out a long breath. "This has been difficult for all of us. Take care of Jamie."

"She woke up this morning." A relieved smile broke through on Michael's face. "Kitt and I had just returned. I had been with her for about five minutes when she came to."

"That's very good news." Turning to his desk, Devon briefly glanced over the top papers. "I will keep you informed as to the proceedings. But for now, there is a young lady that needs a great deal of tender loving care."

"Are you kickin' me out?"

Devon glanced over his shoulder, "yes."

Chuckling, Michael exited the office, intent on returning to the hospital.



Jamie was sitting up, flipping through a magazine, when she heard the knock on her door. "Come on in." Her voice still sounded funny in her ears. The doctors thought it came from trauma to her neck. In simpler terms, her father had kicked her in the throat. She shivered, lost in the memory for a moment.

"Hey," Michael's soft call brought her back.

"Hi," 'fake it till you make it.' the silly phrase passed through her head as she faced him. His look let her know he knew she wasn't as comfortable as she appeared.

"Care to talk about it?" He sat on the edge of the bed, facing her, close to her.

"No, but I think I need to."

"Fair enough."

Her hand dropped into his. Lacing their fingers, she took a deep breath. "We were talking about relationships again. About what he thought I should do, and that I should respect his opinions." She snorted, playing with his fingers. "My temper flared, and I threw back some sort of comment. The next thing I knew I was on my ass on the couch and he was coming at me. I don't remember much else."

"So it was Wilkins?" Jamie nodded. "Trish talked, so did Rick."

Jamie's head lifted, "how did you get them to talk?"

"If you had seen him, Jamie, you wouldn't have argued either." Kitt's voice drifted through the room.

"Hi Sweetheart." Jamie twisted her wrist, noticing the comlink. "When..?"

Taking her hand again, finding a small comfort in holding it. "The day they brought you in, I put it on you."

"Keeping tabs on me, huh?" Though her tone was teasing, she was touched by their concern, never imagining that either of them would care so deeply.

"I needed to know you were okay." Michael quietly admitted.

"So what's happening?"

"Wilkins and Trish were behind the fraud." Michael gently told her. "Mathers is dead." Jamie threw him a troubled look. "Rick was hired to kill the horses and he hired Mathers. Mathers was to kill Britt - not you. I'm assuming Wilkins killed him for almost taking you down in the process."

"Jesus, I had no idea it was this contrived." Michael studied her for a minute. Her bruising was already fading, her black eye was nowhere near as swollen as the day before. "That bad, is it?" She asked, watching him stare at her face.

"No, actually it's fading nicely." Reaching up, he trailed his fingers along the perimeters of some of the bruising, her eyes closed as he touched her, her fingers closing around his on the bed between them.

Jamie couldn't help but relax as his nuckles traveled over her cheek. The creaking of his leather jacket, the familiar smell of it and his aftershave had a calming effect on her. "When do you have to leave?"

"I don't." Jamie threw a confused look at him. "Devon wants me as far from Wilkins as possible."

Jamie laughed so hard it hurt. "I can see that. Probably a smart move on Devon's part."

"Yeah, well, I don't like it."

"I know, but you are too close to this case."

"Michael," his comlink chirped, accompanying Kitt's voice.

"Yeah Pal?"

"We are requested."

Michael shrugged. "So much for spending time with you." Standing, he kissed her, slow and gentle. "Bye." Her eyes opened while he was still close, the spark was returning.




Kitt met him at the doors, turning Michael's concern up another notch.

"What's up?"

"We are to go directly to Wilkins' estate."

"Why...?" He asked slowly.

"Looks like Wilkins ran."

"Dammit!" Michael pounded the dash in fury.

"I also have the test results from the ME."

"And?" Michael impatiently asked.

"The blood samples match Wilkins' type, but they have no further comparisons."

"And now he's running." Michael paused, thinking. "Does he have
any alternative addresses? Some place he frequents?"

"He'd be foolish to remain at any of his usual 'haunts'."

"They'd be worth a looking into."

Kitt split his attention between the roadway and his partner. Michael was dangerously close to the edge again. Neither of them would let Wilkins slip through, not after all the harm he had caused.

"Kitt," Michael's voice half startled the AI . "I have a wild idea in my head. Can you look into the accident that claimed Jamie's parents."

"I don't like your tone of voice." Kitt commented as he set to work hunting through the files.

"Why's that?" Michael asked, casting a quick glance down at the voice modulator.

"Because your ideas usually pan out when you ask me something in that particular tone."

"For Jamie's sake, let's hope I'm wrong." Sliding all four wheels, the car came to a stop behind two police vehicles near the front door. "Full surveillance, Kitt." Kitt's windows rolled down as Michael walked to the front doors.

"I'm detecting infrequent droplets of blood from the house leading across the far end of the driveway before stopping."

"Are they Ja's?" Michael tossed over his shoulder as he crouched down, trying to see what his parter did.

"I believe so. There is a droplet two feet to your left."

Michael moved, eyes searching the cobblestones, finding the brownish drop right where Kitt said. "They're dry, I don't know if I can
get a sample to you."

"There is one in the dirt by the doorway." Uniformed police moved out of Michael's way, astounded by the two. Everyone had heard of Michael Knight and Kitt, but to see them in action was a different perspective.

"Where Kitt?"

"Forward, one more step, to your right marginally... drop your hand, a little to your left - there!" Using a card, he scooped up the dirt.

"Here," He reached through the open window, placing the card in the analysis tray.

A moment later Kitt spoke. "It's Jamie's. DNA matches."

"Okay, where was the attack?"

"The sitting room you were escorted to the other day."

Michael's movements were lithe as he walked inside, his eyes talking in everything, trying to notice any changes. The sitting room was as he remembered it, other than being filled with cops. He moved to the center of the room. "Okay Kitt, scan via comlink." Holding his sleeve away, he slowly turned, trying to make sure Kitt could see from floor to ceiling.

"Michael, the coffee table." Kitt didn't have to point it out to him, he could see the blood smear on the corner.

"That explains the bump on her temple." He crouched down, careful not to touch anything, gabbing another card and taking a small sample. The men in the room had stepped back to observe, astounded by his quick findings. "Hey guys, who's got an evidence bag?" On the carpet, slightly under the table was a small piece of cotton, what looked like one of Jamie's shirts to him. "There," Michael pointed out the scrap of cloth to the cop that approached.

"How do you do that?" He asked as he sealed the plastic bag with his gloved hands. "Many years on the force." Michael smiled slyly, shrugging, "and a great partner." Standing, he took another look around the room. "Is there anything else, Kitt?"

"I don't believe so."

"Where's the safe?"

Kitt made a noise that could be interpreted as a snort. "Behind the gaudy picture behind you."

"Am I clear to touch this?" Michael asked, pointing to the large picture of only-God-knew-what.

"Go for it."

"Jesus," Michael swore as he moved it away from the wall. "This thing weighs a ton." Two cops helped him pull the picture off the wall, resting it against one of the couches. Michael nodded his thanks as he moved to the large wall safe. "Kitt can you ..." The numbers lit up a few seconds before the safe clicked open. "Thank you."

"De nada. There is also a silent alarm that was triggered. The toggle for it is downstairs in the kitchen."

"I'll get it." One of the younger officers offered.

"Under the sink, left hand side, small silver switch." Kitt instructed.

Michael opened up the metal door and began rifling through the papers. Grabbing a stack, he placed them on the floor to carefully look through. Most of it was stock and bond information, mutual funds, etc. The second stack of papers was more useful. Michael found Britt's insurance papers, three different companies, one hundred thousand a piece. Shaking his head, Michael placed them off to the side.

"Kitt, what's this?" Angling his comlink to the page, he traveled from top to bottom, not understanding the numbers in front of him.

"I'm not sure, Michael. The patterns seems familiar to me, but I can't place them."

"See if Bonnie knows, will ya?"

"Good idea." Michael placed them off to the side with the insurance papers.

"Kitt I have four addresses here."

"Go ahead Michael."

Listing them off, two were in California, one was in Maine and one was in Ontario, Canada.

"I'll need a bit of time to look into these."

"We're running out of time, Kitt."

"He won't disappear, Michael. I promise you that we will find him."

"I know, Pal" Michael's voice dropped as he continued to search through the papers and files. "The longer we wait, the more danger I feel Jamie is in."

"I don't see your reasoning?"

"Did you look into her parents accident?" Glancing around, Michael noticed most of the others had left the room.

"Yes. The car overturned and exploded."

"Weather conditions?"

"Clear."

"Kind of car?"

"Buick Regal."

"Speed?"

"Undetermined."

"Tell me Kitt, a large, heavy car like that, what would it take to flip it?"

"Icy conditions, great speed, hitting an immovable object."

"A car bomb."

"Yes, that would more than likely do it as well. What are you thinking?"

"Do you have the report on the car?"

"Yes, the fuel line ruptured, pouring over the engine block that was still running."

"Bet ya dollars to doughnuts that was a straight cut."

"Again, unclear to match your hypothesis."

"What caused it to flip?"

"Official report says it jumped a concrete median. Wait a minute... there were no tyre marks on the road, implying the brakes had not been applied."

"Were they not applied, or not working?" Michael placed that stack back in the safe and sifted through the various jewelry in the safe.

"Unclear. The witness accounts say the car veered off, almost an intentional move on the driver's part."

"Yeah, right. Tell me another one."

"It does appear highly suspicious." After a moment of silence as Michael placed things back inside the safe. "You are thinking Wilkins had something to do with the accident?"

"Yeah Kitt, I am. This all feels interconnected to me. Again, I still think we are missing a big part of the puzzle."

"If he staged that accident, and now the fraud..."

"The man is hip deep in it. And he's waiting for something."

"What could that possibly be?"

"I believe the answer to that question is in these papers. Whatever these numbers represent."

"There is one more safe in the house."

"Where?"

"Downstairs, behind the furnace." Kitt sounded baffled at the location.

"I think we just hit the motherload." Jogging down three flights of stairs, he hit the light switch at the bottom, illuminating the unfinished basement. "Down in the bowels of the house. It doesn't look like anyone comes down here often."

"Why would they?"

"Yeah, right." Michael chuckled. "Where'm I going?"

"Follow the hallway until it opens off to your right. Follow to
the end. Behind the furnace, be careful it's hot." He warned as Michael leaned close. "Do you see it?"

"Nope, hang on." Michael grabbed a small Mag light flashlight from his jacket pocket. Twisting it on, he shined it on the wall, immediately finding the safe. "Can you open it?" Michael had to shout as the furnace kicked on.

"Yes, it's open." Reaching over the safe was only about 3 inches by 5 inches and a hand deep. Pulling out two pieces of paper, he reached back to be sure he had everything, then closed the safe. Shining the flashlight on the top paper, Michael felt his blood drain from his face.

"Michael, what's wrong?"

"Holy Christ." He let out a shocked breath. "Kitt, you're gonna have to see this to believe it."


*



Michael drove back to the Foundation at a high rate of speed, his mind in a whirl.

"I'm having a difficult time accepting this new information."

"You and me both, Pal." Michael shifted in his seat.

"I don't understand what he was trying to accomplish."

"I dunno. This has got to be the most fucked up case I have ever been involved with." It was truthful, but Kitt was still taken aback by Michael's choice of wording. Giving him another insight into his partner's mental state.


"Devon." Michael had run into the building, and up the stairs, grinding to a halt at Devon's desk, placing his findings on top of Devon's work.

Casting a quick glance of disapproval, Devon quickly looked over the papers Michael had just placed before him. "My God." He whispered, the implications sinking in as he read the old document.

"Can you find that doctor?" Michael's question was almost desperate.

"We'll get right on it. Don't hold high hopes though. This is many years ago."

Michael nodded. "He didn't care. What possible reasoning could he have had?"

"He wanted Gail. I knew that. We all did. He followed her around like a lost puppy for years. After she married Bruce, he backed off. I'm beginning to wonder what was truly happening. If he had indeed continued his pursuit of her."

"To the point of being able to blackmail the doctor."

"I wonder if the tests were even conducted."

"Or if Wilkins just paid off the doctor instead of submitting a blood sample." Michael tapped the top paper. "Check out the second page." Michael watched Devon's eyes grow wider.

"This explains a great deal." He glanced up, catching Bonnie's entrance.

"Good, you're both here." Bonnie stopped beside Michael, almost too afraid to ask what was disturbing them to this degree. "It took me four decryption programs before I deciphered these. I get the funny feeling I'm about to throw gasoline into the fire."

Michael turned to half sit on the desk, Bonnie had never thrown a warning out before information.

"These numbers represent dates, amounts and prices of shipments."

"Drugs?" Michael asked, sitting up a little straighter.

"Yes, mostly cocaine, a few other nasties guaranteed to hook the user and have them crawling back for more. One other thing about these papers..."

"He's been skimming the till." Michael interjected.

"Yes, how'd you know?"

"I found two documents in his hidden safe. A blackmail note to the doctor doing the paternity test, the second was from the Cartel. They busted him, or will shortly if he doesn't cough up a few million in another few weeks."

"Dear Lord, what wasn't he into?" Bonnie blinked in realization. "Where does that leave Jamie?"

"Under our love and care while Michael tracks down Mr. Wilkins." Devon stated while collecting up the papers, depositing them in a file.

"Any luck on the addresses?"

Bonnie nodded. "Yes, the two here are condos, the police have looked into them, he's cleaned them out. The one in Maine was Jamie's mother's. That one was sold a few months ago. The new people are living there during the summer, I have the Maine police checking that one out. The one in Canada is not as simple. It's an address in Guelph."

"What in the world would he be doing there?" Michael shifted, settling more comfortably onto the desk.

"Would it help you to know that Guelph is the mob retirement capital of North America?"

"You're kidding, right?" Bonnie shook her head at Michael's disbelieving reaction. "I would have thought Florida, or someplace warm, not somewhere where you freeze your ass off for six months of the year."

"Eight," Devon corrected. "If you are used to our climate."

"I'm not getting much cooperation from the local police."

"I wonder why." Michael threw in sarcastically. "I guess this means I'm going to Canada."

"It's a nice time of the year to visit." Bonnie smiled sweetly.

"You both have a few arrangements to make first off. Bonnie, I want you to arrange a suite for Jamie. Michael, I want you to bring Jamie here where we can keep an eye on her while you are away."

"These doctors are going to refuse to treat us soon. We keep leaving AMA."

"You, Michael; leave the rest of us out of this." Bonnie playfully smacked his gut as she passed by him on the way out of the office.

"I'll go get Ja." Michael turned, leaving Devon alone with his disturbed thoughts.


*


Jamie was very happy to see Michael, yet his demeanor was off. On one hand she was very happy to get the hell out of the hospital, on the other, it was unusual enough to unsettle her. She was, however, getting quite a kick out of the doctor glaring at Michael as she filled out the paperwork and was informed of all the risks of leaving against medical advice.

He had carried her very gently out to Kitt. Dressing herself had caused a great deal of pain, reminding her of just how badly injured she was. She hated wheelchairs, they made her nauseous. After a fierce argument with the doctor and nurses, Michael had stepped passed the doctor, whom he really couldn't stand anyway, and picked her up.

"Is this good enough?" He snapped, feeling her relax and stifle a chuckle against him.

It felt so good to be against him, despite the little aches and pains moving caused her. He had carried her before, but she had been mostly asleep at the time. Now, as they rode down the elevator, she had a chance to take in the feel of him against her. He carried her with such ease, like he was carrying a stack of paper, not a hundred pound girl in his arms. His stride was smooth, confident, as he dodged kids, nurses and gurneys without jostling her.


Kitt met them at the entrance and opened the door, allowing Michael to ease her into the seat. She was almost sorry to let go of him. He even drove off smoothly, not laying down rubber as he usually did.

"Michael, can we take a small detour?"

"Where to?" He glanced over at her, she was looking better, but he
knew all too well how long reinjured ribs took to heal.

"To Britt."

Michael couldn't believe he'd forgotten about her. "Yeah, of course."

"Devon will not be amused." Kitt informed them dryly.

"I think Devon will understand." Michael changed direction heading for the farm. "Make sure no one is following us will you, Partner."

"And what are you doing?" Kitt asked petulantly.

"Trying to keep the ride as smooth as possible for Ja."

"Then we should trade jobs."

"I don't have scanners."

"You have two perfectly healthy eyes."

"Okay, Okay!!!" Jamie interrupted, trying to control herself. "Stop please, laughing hurts too much."


Driving carefully up the gravel lane, they parked near the barn entrance. Michael walked around Kitt to gently carry Jamie inside.

"Hey all!" Ryan's cheery call greeted them as they stepped into the cool barn isle. "Good Lord, what happened to you girl?"

"I got myself beaten up." She explained half jokingly.

"Did they catch the guy?"

"Soon." Michael's voice held such conviction, Ryan just nodded, understanding.

"I just want to check in on Britt. I don't know how long I'll be out of commission."

"Don't you worry about a thing. Your mare and I get along just fine. I'll take care of her and we'll work out arrangements as soon as you are fit enough. I need a few horses backed."

Jamie nodded, still tucked into Michael's arms. "That sounds like a plan." She was relieved that he understood. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it. It's nice to work around a horse with such great manners."

Jamie cocked an eyebrow. "Had a discussion with her, did you?"

"Hell ya, the first day. Planted her on her ass and she's been an angel ever since."

Laughing, Jamie reached over as Britt stuck her head out over the stall. "Yeah, she needs a reminder on occasion." Michael turned so Jamie could be closer to her mare.

"Her legs are healing nicely, should be sound within a week, possibly two. The two of you should be ready at about the same time." Ryan winked before strolling out of the barn whistling.



Tipping her head to Michael's cheek, she rubbed Britt's face. "I'm not sure what I did to deserve such good friends, but I'm very grateful."

"There's no need. You've done a great deal for us. I'll do anything to keep you safe, you know that." For a moment he forgot about the horse, focusing on the woman in his arms, nuzzling into the side of her face. She turned, her arm tightening around his neck, drawing herself against him as he kissed her. Britt's breath on their faces reminding them where they were. Smiling, they remained forehead to forehead as Britt tucked her muzzle under their chins.

"Think she's jealous?" Michael asked, his voice had taken on the deeper tones she was becoming very used to hearing from him when they were alone.

"Probably. I've never had a man in my life that's hung around for as long as you have."

"Really?" He asked surprised.

Nodding against him, her hand on Britt's face. "Like you, my lifestyle and personality doesn't gel with most people."

"You don't have to worry about that any longer." He had relaxed completely, feeling his stress catching up with him.

"I'm very glad to hear you say that."

"You saw my note the other morning?" Jamie nodded, shifting to see his face, needing to be sure. "Then you know how I feel."

"That night seems so long ago."

"It does."

Jamie tipped her head. "What is it?"

"I have to leave, either tonight or tomorrow."

"For where?"

"Canada." She needed to know as much of the truth as he dared to give her. Holding her in a snug hug for a moment, he proceeded to tell her. "Kitt and I were called to Wilkins's estate earlier. We found drops of your blood around the house, and in his living room. I also found a safe. Inside I found three insurance policies for Britt, totaling over three hundred thousand dollars. We also found records that indicate he's running drugs." She nodded, seemingly taking it well. "The next bit isn't easy for me to tell you."

Frowning and worried, she waited. He continued to hold her tightly, both of them taking comfort in this needed position.

"Kitt found a second safe. In it I found two pieces of paper. One was from the Cartel. Seems he's been withholding money from them, skimming the till, as it may well be. They caught on and warned him, pay up or..."

"Or they will look for a permanent collection." She took a deep breath. "What was the other?"

Michael stiffened at her question."It was a bribe, to the doctor that did the paternity tests after you were born..."

Jamie sat up in his arms, ignoring the pain of her shoulder and ribs. "What are you saying?"

"That the test was probably never performed. That Wilkins bribed and blackmailed the doctor."

"So we don't know for sure if Wilkins is my father?" For some reason Jamie felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

"We may never know."

"Look, Mi," she twisted in his arms, essentially sitting up. "I've been on my own for years. My parents are dead. They were my parents, this... situation has taken too much of my time, our time. I know he needs to be found, but my family is here. Whether he is, or is not my father is not really a concern. I want to get back to my life. In a way I have a few things to thank Wilkins for."

Michael just looked at her. "Like what?"

"Like the time I've been able to spend with you. We had an entire month together, practically living together." An elfish sparkle appeared in her eyes. One that caused his body to tighten.

"Shall I take you home?" The implication couldn't be ignored.

"Can you put me down for a minute?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I need to do something."


Michael carefully let her down. Keeping her good hand on his shoulder, Jamie waited to see if her legs would hold her. After a minute, she steadied. Moving to the stall door, she unlatched it. Britt met her as the door easily slid wide open. Gently nickering, softly puffing, Britt let Jamie into the stall. Running her hand along Britt's neck, Jamie cuddled with her horse.

Michael stood back, though near enough to help if she needed. Stupidly thinking he wanted her to run her hands over him like that. He knew Britt was not an overly affectionate horse, to witness this moment of peace and love between the two partners reminded him of his private times with Kitt. Suddenly he felt like a voyeur; peering in on a very private event. He knew he couldn't take his eyes off Jamie, hell he didn't want to.

Her legs were unsteady as she moved to Britt's shoulder, half hugging the mare. A smile tugged on his face as Britt turned her head, wrapping Jamie in the circle of her neck, her muzzle resting carefully on Jamie's hip. Michael could have sworn the mare knew each and every one of Jamie's injuries.


He saw it begin to happen, her legs began to truly shake. It only took one step for him to cross the stall and catch her. Britt had also moved into the falling girl, trying to slow her, giving Michael enough time to reach her.

Jamie felt herself begin to fall, unable to stop it, she relaxed, waiting to hit the soft shavings that bedded the stall. The world swung under her just before she came face to face with Michael.

"You could have said you were getting tired." He admonished her.

"I didn't realize I was." Tipping her head to his temple, she realized just how much that had taken out of her.

"Are you ready to go home now?" She nodded, feeling one last snort from Britt before Michael moved from the stall. She closed her eyes, content for the first time in weeks.





Bonnie met them at the entrance as Michael carried in a half asleep Jamie.

"Where to?" He asked quietly. Bonnie grabbed the knap sack that swung from his hand, then turned, leading him to the room she had prepared for Jamie. Up the stairs, to the opposite wing from the offices, Bonnie stopped at a door, opening it for Michael to pass through.


"Devon wants to see you was soon as possible." Bonnie informed him, placing the bag on the nearest chair before closing the door slowly behind her.


"Can you drop me in the bathroom?" Jamie's sleepy voice asked. "I really want to take a bath."

"You sure you're going to be okay?"

Jamie nodded, "Yeah. I feel disgusting right now."

Chuckling, Michael sat her on the edge of the tub. "Hospitals tend to have that effect." Searching around, he placed a towel within reach. "I'll go see what Devon wants, then I'll be back, okay?"

"Yeah, I don't plan on being in here too long. I might fall asleep."

With a devilish gleam, he turned from the bathroom door. "Sounds like an appealing way to find you." He left, swinging the door closed behind him. Jamie shook her head as she reached for the taps and began to slowly undress.




"Where have you been?" Devon started on Michael as soon as he entered the large office.

"Jamie wanted to see Britt and make sure Ryan was okay with taking care of the mare."

Devon's face immediately relaxed. "I should have known. That young lady has a very strong sense of responsibility."

"Yeah." Michael seemed almost wistful as he spoke. "It was a really nice visit." Catching himself drifting off, Michael visibly cleared his head, blinking to wake up. "Then a quick stop off at her place so she could grab a few things."


At that point Devon knew he couldn't ask Michael to pursue this case tonight. Michael was too strung, too tired. He had been going great-guns for weeks now. Plus the added stress of Jamie's life being threatened had taken its toll.

Still there were facts that had to be passed along..


"We located the doctor that performed the paternity tests." Michael's interest piqued at Devon's slowly spoken words. "According to him, the test was never completed. He simply took the money, and the pictures of himself and a woman in a very compromising position, and filled out the forms."

"He actually spoke to you?" Michael asked, amazed.

"I provided enough information for him to realize that I already knew the depth of the situation. And I assured him that this would be the end of the discussion - once I had my answers."


Snorting, Michael sank into one of the two chairs that stood before the large desk, the overwhelming stress clouding his thoughts momentarily. "How about Wilkins? Anything new on him?"

"I'm afraid not." Michael nodded into his hands, wincing as he accidentally pressed on his bruised cheekbone. "You, on the other hand, need a quiet night." Michael lifted his head, his confused expression causing Devon to smile. "Start out fresh in the morning. Bonnie is taking care of Kitt tonight. I'm sure this will not be a simple excursion. I have a few connections in Canada, but I won't have any further information until the morning. Until then, I believe there is a young lady that would like to spend some time with you. Or is that the other way around?" The appreciative smile was all the thanks Devon needed. He raised a hand as Michael opened his mouth, "drop it for the rest of the day. I will speak to you in the morning."


Lifting himself off the chair slowly, Michael cast an affectionate look at the other man. "I think you know me too well."

"All part of the job."

Michael turned serious for a moment. "Thank you."

"For what may I ask?"

"For your support and approval."

"There was never any question. I'm very relieved to see you together; that Kitt is also content with your choice."

"Was it that obvious before?"

"In some ways, yes it was."

"In that case, I'm calling it an afternoon and I'm only coming down for food."


*


Jamie half limped towards the bed, upset at her inability to take care of herself. Strangely, her mind began to understand Michael's foul temper when he was incapacitated. This was not fun. She hurt, she could barely move and extended periods on her feet caused her to become light headed.

Sighing, she climbed into bed with a book she had grabbed from home. Settling back against the headboard, she took a look around for the first time. The room was done in whites, the walls, the linens and the chairs were all white, making the room almost too bright. The curtains for the windows were navy, adding just the right touch of colour. The bathroom was done in white and burgundy marble. Typical of the classic touch the Foundation prided itself on. The room was huge. Half the size of her bungalow's main floor. Bonnie had opened the window a crack and the fresh air was invigorating. She wasn't tired, her brain was working a mile a minute, not wanting to focus on the book she held. Looking over the small table, out the windows that overlooked the rear of the grounds, she tried to remember what had happened with Wilkins, why it had gone so wrong. The snarky comment hadn't been called for, she should have held her tongue. Still, that was no reason for him to beat her half to death. She recalled him grabbing her, comparing her to her mother. Had he been that cruel to her too? Her mother had once warned her about men that seemed too good to be true. At the time Jamie had imagined that her mother was speaking of fairy tales, not real life.

Ironically, Jamie wondered what her parents would have thought of Michael, of her relationship with him and Kitt. If they would have approved. Wilton would have, she knew that. Wilton and Devon were so very much alike. If she closed her eyes, she could still envision her parents. The day Wilton had gently informed her of the accident, Jamie had sworn, through her grief, that she would never forget them, that she would never let their memory fade. Years later, she could see them clear as day. The thought of Wilkins having a relationship with her mother disturbed her on a very deep level, one she hadn't realized until Michael had brought up the possibility of Wilkins having forged the documents for whatever reasoning. It wasn't that her mother had had an affair, it was *who* she'd had the affair with. Had Wilkins wormed his way into her mother's life, or had they known each other beforehand? She would never know. Devon may know a few of the details, but he would have no way of knowing the full truth.

The gentle knock brought her out of her reverie.

Michael walked in to catch Jamie gazing out the window, a small tear running down her face. He crossed the room, dropping his jacket on one of the small seats. He easily gathered her into his arms, mindful of her ribs and shoulder.

"Is there any news?" She asked against his shoulder.

"Devon managed to find the doctor Wilkins bribed. He said that the tests were never done." He felt Jamie nod against him, tucking her face into his neck. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I was lost in memories for a bit there. Thinking can be dangerous for me."

He sat back, holding her face softly in one hand. She was so small. "Devon has given me the night off." He was almost afraid she'd kick him out. Instead she relaxed into his hand.

"Have you all to myself have I?" A smile quirked her face.

"If you want. I was thinking of a quiet afternoon, dinner in bed and a peaceful night's sleep."

"Hmm, you've forgotten something."

"What's that?"

"I kick in my sleep."

"Really? I've never noticed." Jamie just looked at him. "I haven't." He claimed again. "I sleep like a log when I'm with you."

Her face softened, "honestly, I sleep better when you're here too."

"Would you two quit with the mushy stuff." Kitt's teasing voice came from Michael's comlink.

"Is it me, or is he like a little kid that interrupts at the most inopportune moments?" Michael asked, playfully glaring at his watch.

"I'm not inopportune. I'm wise."

"Oh really? My all-knowing partner?"

"There is no need to be factious Michael. You both need rest." Kitt commented matter-of-factly.

Grinning, Jamie glanced at Michael's comlink. "I think he's trying to tell us something."

Michael nodded unhappily. "I'm not sure how much longer I could stay awake anyway. I just about fell asleep in Devon's office."

"If memory serves me correctly, you have attempted to do so on many occasions."

"Oh thanks." Turning to Jamie, "do you need anything?"

"No, thanks." She paused, looking up at him.

He leaned closer softly covering her lips with his, intending only a gentle kiss. As she responded, moving closer to him, as the kiss lingered, he felt his resolve waver. Her arm slid around his neck, her fingers moving through his hair as he ran his tongue along her lips. Her sore hand shifted along his waist, to rest her palm flat against his back as she held him, letting herself relax against him, trusting him to told her upright.

She exhaled softly as his hands cupped her face, tilting her head slightly, as he deepened the kiss, his tongue moving from her lips to glide along her tongue, feeling her grip on him tighten.

Jamie shifted, wanting more from him, remembering how he had held her the other day in her house, knowing the passion that had sparked between them, she craved that again.

"No...." she whispered as his grip loosened.

Tenderly caressing the side of her face, he eased away, knowing that if he didn't do so now, he wasn't going to. "I'll be back in a few minutes." One last feathery kiss before he stood, and left the room.


Jamie watched him go, feeling empty, her brain understood why he had stopped, yet her heart had wanted ever so much more. She leaned back against the headboard. As the desire faded, her body firmly reminded her why they couldn't take things to the next level. Searching, she found her discarded book and attempted to read.


Twenty minutes later, with a soft knock, he reentered her room. Jamie was lying on her right side, book in hand.

"I had to hunt Kitt down for my bag." Shaking his head, he approached her, kissing her softly, his tongue teasing as he licked her lips, then turned away. Tossing a smile over his shoulder, he headed straight for the bathroom.

Changing, he worked to relax. It felt so right, being with her, holding her, kissing her. How anyone could harm her was beyond him. But he knew he was biased. She had a silent strength, something he admired in her. Something he hoped she would teach him.

After cleaning up and changing into his usual nighttime attire, he all of a sudden felt nervous. Pausing at the door, leaning on it, he closed his eyes. He was so tired and ached in a great many ways. Opening the door, he strode out before he lost his nerve.

The sun was slowly fading in the late afternoon. Daylight savings would soon be upon them. Jamie was thankfully asleep. Dropping his bag beside the end table, he climbed under the overs. She had moved over before falling asleep. As he made himself comfortable, he saw her open her eyes, watching him with sleepy longing. He rolled towards her, gathering her in his arms, feeling the warmth of her hands against his bare skin.

Lifting herself up onto her good arm, she half lay over him, tipping her head to meet his kiss. He lay back, pulling her on top of him as the kiss continued.

"Rest on me," he whispered against her lips. She shifted up against him then relaxed, letting her body drape over his chest, her left hand caressing the hollow between his neck and his shoulder. He held her, trying not to grab her, praying he wasn't hurting her. Her body felt so good against him, being with her was almost too easy.

She moved, her breasts pressing into him, rubbing against him as she dragged her body over his; her light shirt doing little to separate them. He moaned softly, his hands on her sides, helping her, guiding her as his kiss seared her. Her lips slanted over his, their mouths clinging as they let themselves go for the first time. She winced, her breath catching as she tried to move her left arm. He shifted onto his side, his arm around her waist pulling her against him. She moved closer, feeling his entire body against her, feeling his full need for her.

His hand moved from her hip to her shoulder, then slowly around to press his palm against the side of her breast where it touched his body. She inhaled sharply as she felt the caress, then moaned as he continued to touch her, to familiarize himself with her. She clung to him. Her elbow resting comfortably on his side, but her hand was not idle. Moving slowly to ensure her shoulder didn't object, her fingers wandered from his shoulders to his lower back. His muscles twitched under her hand, his body gently moving against hers. As he caressed the soft flesh of her breast, her hand slid further down, following the contours of his body, over his ass to rest against the top of his thigh, his slow movements causing the muscles to flex under her hand. Bringing her hand back up, she found the most comfortable position was also the most appealing, her hand resting on his ass.

Breaking from the kiss and hugging her tightly, he rolled back onto his back. He had to stop this before coherent thought left him completely.

"Ja..." He whispered, afraid to break the spell that was between them.

"I know."

Jamie snuggled into him, her head tucked into the crook of his shoulder, her hand laying in the centre of his chest, twitching slightly as she drifted off to sleep. He watched her, his body calming down His eyes closed as her breath drifted across his chest. She was pressed firmly against him, completely relaxed despite her injuries. For the first time in weeks, he noticed his thoughts clear.



Devon knocked on the door in the early morning. His concern for Jamie had been foremost in his thoughts for most of the night, he should have been checking on her, making sure her injuries had not worsened.
Opening the door a crack when no answer came, he peered inside. He wasn't expecting what he found. Michael was lying on his back, Jamie curled into his bare chest, both of Michael's arms holding her snuggly. They were the picture of peace. Something they deserved after the harrowing assignment. Devon silently closed the door, the case could wait a few more hours.


*



Kitt sat in the Guelph Police Station's parking lot, unamused. He was used to attracting attention, but this was ridicules. He would have thought that these people had better things to do than gawk at him. Michael had gone inside the police station over an hour ago, and judging by his increasing blood pressure, he wasn't having much luck. Kitt found himself wondering why they were here. A bit of research could have located Wilkins - if he was indeed here, and a little 'pulling of strings' would have had him extradited back to the States. No need for long hours on the road, no dealing with uncooperative police and no bad tempered Michael.

"Hey Bill, look a this beauty." Kitt figuratively groaned as the two men closed in on him. "What would you give for one of these?" Kitt had long ago darkened his windows, sick and tired of people peering in on him. It almost felt like a violation if his privacy. What was inside his cabin was for him and Michael alone.

"A hell of a lot. She's sweet alright. Hey man, look at the light on the nose." The six foot, blond man circled the car. "California plates. This baby's a long way from home." A few more complimentary words and they wandered off. Kitt felt an overwhelming sense of relief as Michael strode from the building. Even the pissed off look on his face didn't alter Kitt's feelings. Slamming the door, Michael hit the ignition, the engine roaring to life causing the two men who were admiring the car to turn around. Michael peeled out of the lot, fish tailing the car and burning rubber.

Kitt glanced back, just out of curiosity. To see the two with impressed, slack jawed looks gave Kitt a wonderful feeling of superiority he rarely let himself revel in.



Michael wandered around the small motel room getting ready for bed. Even with Kitt doing most of the driving, that many hours in the car made him sore and cranky. Being cooped up in this dinky room didn't help much either. At least he was standing.

This case was turning into a joke. How the hell was he going to find Wilkins?? As good as everyone seemed to think he and Kitt were, this surmounted to looking for a needle, that may not even exist, in a large haystack.

The cops had worn on his nerves too. He had never encountered a group of such unwilling people. 'Then again, with a town filled with retired mob men, I'd be hesitant to delve into a situation I didn't have details on either.' Michael thought to himself sourly. It wasn't like he was in the States where gossip of him and Kitt had traveled down the wires. He was a hotshot investigator in the eyes of the police here. If he wanted co operation, he was going to have to prove himself. Not something he enjoyed toying around with in this type of situation.

Frustrated and testy, he turned to grab his overnight bag, looking for his toothbrush.

"Michael, duck!"

He didn't have time to react. The glass made a small popping noise just before the searing pain on his forehead knocked him backwards onto the floor.

"Michael! Michael!"

"I'm okay." His voice was shaking, the room spinning. "Just... disoriented." Reaching up, he touched the sore spot above his eye, his fingers finding the warm slipperiness of blood. Once his vision cleared, he slowly stood. "Are they gone?"

"Yes. I'm sorry I didn't detect them sooner."

"S' okay." His legs weren't as steady as he figured they'd be. Holding onto the bed, he grabbed his jacket, zipping it up over his track pants. Opening the sliding glass door into the late evening chill, he shivered.

Dropping into the car, he could hear Kitt scan him, and it touched him. "Everything working?"

Kitt snorted. "It's a good thing you have such a thick skull." Turning serious, Kitt scanned his partner again, unable to ease the concern. "It was a glancing blow. You're lucky you had turned."

"Thanks to you." Michael turned in the seat, taking in the parking lot and buildings around him. Something he hadn't bothered to do when they had pulled in a few hours beforehand. "Guess we hit a nerve, huh?"

"Someone certainly knows we're here."

"And I guess that was my unwelcome party."

"I'm glad to see you haven't lost your sense of humour."

"By any chance did you see the culprit?"

"Unfortunately no. I'll review my..."

"Actually, I'd rather send it to Jamie in the morning."

"Good idea. If she's at work." Michael tipped his head firing a knowing look at his partner. "You're right, she'll be at work."

Talking a deep breath, trying to ignore the building headache, he shuddered. Kitt's windows were beginning to mist over. By morning, frost would cover the ground.

"Go to sleep, Michael." Kitt gently instructed. "I'll keep a close eye on things." Michael nodded slowly, not relishing the idea of leaving Kitt's warm interior, even for the few steps back to his room. Shoving the car door closed behind him, a line from a movie drifted across his mind; 'the game is afoot'.


Leaning back on the closed door of the motel room, the tiny hole in the window caught his attention. He glanced to the opposite side of the room, finding where the slug had embedded itself into the wall. He'd grab it in the morning. Right now all we wanted was to climb into bed Not even 12 hours in this God-foresaken-town and he was already a target. Smiling darkly, he shoved off the door, regretting it when his head opposed the quick movement, at least this wasn't a needle in a haystack.

Shrugging off his jacket he hung it on the door handle. Pulling the covers over himself, his last thought was of the memory of having Jamie curled into his side, sleeping peacefully against his shoulder.



Groaning, he rolled over. He was used to headaches, but this was the mother of them all. Opening his eyes into the early morning peeks of sunlight, he noticed the blood stains on the pillow. Looking out the window across from the bed, where the drapes lay open a crack, all he could see was the crystallized frost.

"Michael?" Kitt's quiet, concerned voice followed the single beep of his comlink.

"Yeah, Kitt?" His voice was still groggy from sleep.

"Are you alright? Your heart rate is elevated."

Michael chuckled. "I think that's my headache talking."

"I should have taken..."

"No way, Partner. No more hospitals." Now he was awake. "This is nothing a few aspirins won't douse." Sitting up slowly, he checked his watch. Six am. With the three hour time difference, it would only be three in LA. Whatever caused him to adjust to time changes so well, he thanked it at that moment. Getting an early jump on things was just what he needed. Throwing the covers off, he headed for the bathroom, ready to attack the bottle of painkillers he kept.



Showered, changed, fed and virtually pain free, he had used his driving gloves to pry the slug from the wall. It had taken some work, but it had been worthwhile. Kitt had pulled a partial print off the bullet.




Jamie startled as her comlink chirped at her.

"Kitt?" She was confused, they were supposed to be in Canada.

"Jamie, is your computer available?" There was a fair chunk of static accompanying Kitt's voice.

"Yes, but..."

"I'm about to interface through the remote communications system." A few seconds later Michael's face appeared on her screen, her speakers linked into Kitt's systems.

"Ja?" Michael glanced down at the monitor as they paused at a light, stuck in traffic.

"Michael, what's up?" It was hard to miss the welt above his eyebrow. It was dark red and swollen.

"Someone took a shot at me last night. Kitt has some footage, could you look into it?"

"Of course I can., but..."

He couldn't see her, but he could hear the concern. "I stopped into the police station, making a subtle inquiry. I think we are on the right track."

"Subtle huh?" Jamie asked as her program came up, Kitt's footage still loading in. Kitt's system may be quick, but her poor computer was slow as molasses.

"Like a freight train." Kitt commented sarcastically.

"There are days when I feel completely unappreciated." The teasing banter did help to make him feel better. Relieving his stress slightly.

"Okay, I got it." Jamie announced.

"Kitt and I are going back to the station. We have a partial print off the bullet."

"You're playing with fire." Jamie warned adjusting the focus.

"I know. But I'm not going to draw him out by sitting back and playing bullseye."

"Hmph."

Michael laughed. "I'll contact you as soon as I'm out of that hell hole."

Jamie's eyebrows rose. "You're calling a police station a 'hell hole' ??"

"I didn't receive much of a welcome."

"Ahh. Okay. I'll get right on this."

"Thanks, Ja."

"Be careful, Mi."

"Will do. Talk to you in a few hours." With that, the connection was cut.



Jamie set to work. Running the footage through once just to get a feel of the surrounding area. Wherever Michael had chosen to spend the night, it was pretty. On one side, industrial and strip malls lined the road, on the other, a large field opened up, overgrown and waving in the breeze. Numerous cars passed, most slowing for the light that was on the corner. Kitt was parked in front of a row of sliding glass doors that faced the roadway. Across the street from him was a Mcdonalds and coffee shop.

"Trust Michael to find the greasy spoons." Jamie commented to herself.

She heard Kitt's warning, then the drapes moved in the window directly in front of Kitt. When she closed in, she could see the small hole in the glass. Seeing it caused her to shudder. Reminding herself that he was fine, she continued.

Taking that trajectory, she rewound, focusing on the vehicles passing from the open field side of the road. Four cars passed in that time. Only one had two people in it. A four door sedan, GM by the looks of it. Older, in rough shape. As the car drove beneath the street lamp near the hotel/motel, two silhouetted men could be seen in the car. It was a 50/kmh zone, the car never slowed down. From Kitt's perspective, Jamie could see the window roll down just far enough for the tip of the gun to appear, then fire. Jamie frowned, they had only taken slight aim. The shot had been meant to scare Michael off, not to kill him. But they had known which hotel, which room. Sighing, Jamie went over the tape again, trying to get a license plate. In Canada, front plates were mandatory. If she was good enough, if she was lucky enough, she might be able to peg the plate as the streetlight illuminated the front of the car.


Forty five minutes later, and blurry eyed, Jamie not only had the plate, BNE 245, she had the owner of the vehicle. Now to wait for Michael and Kitt to contact her.


*


They had been a little more helpful. Michael figured drive-by shootings were not normal for this area. At least they directed him to the detective constable, someone who could help his search. The partial had been a dead end. The time had given Michael a chance to fill in D.C. Roy Glazz on the situation, on why an investigator from LA was harassing the Guelph police, searching for a wanted man. The man had listened, surprisingly enough, offered a few tips then sent Michael on his way. It was better than a kick in the teeth.

Still annoying when the answers were not readily available.

Dropping into the car, he hit the buttons to activate the RCS without having to look.

"I take it you have no news." Kitt asked as he contacted Jamie.

"Nothing." Michael played with the bullet in his fingers. "There wasn't enough to go on."

"Michael?" Jamie's voice sounded just after the familiar beep of communications being established.

Michael closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Hi Ja. You come up with anything?" Tipping his head back onto the headrest, he felt himself relax.

The image on her screen was on of peace, though she knew they were all far from it. "I was able to spot two men in the vehicle. Not enough light to identify faces, but I did see them randomly shoot at your window."

"Randomly? What do you mean?"

"The car didn't slow from the speed limit, the window rolled down only far enough to allow for the muzzle of the gun to appear and they didn't take any time to look for your location inside the room."

"They just zeroed in on the room and fired?"

"That's what it looks like."

"So there is a leak somewhere."

"Or Wilkins recognized Kitt."

Michael's eyes opened. "I hadn't considered that."

"I also managed to get the plate number."

"Now I'm impressed."

Jamie snorted, regretting it as her ribs complained, as they had done a number of times since she had sat down. "Fat lot of good it did us." She spat sarcastically. "The plates are older than I am, the car is almost as old, GM sedan and the person who owned the car died three weeks ago. The car has been sitting in a lot waiting for auction since then."

"Do we ever catch a break?"

"Michael, someone knows you are there, and they are making a statement."

"I know Ja. Don't worry, I'm not about to do something overly foolish. Kitt and I are now both on guard."

"I do have some more information for you on Wilkins' files." Jamie refused to call him her father. Though he might be, the thought of it repulsed her.

"Shoot," Michael grimaced. "Sorry, bad phrasing."

Jamie just shook her head. "I spoke to Bonnie when I was searching for the plates. They were able to confirm that Wilkins was running drugs. That he not only kept some of the money for himself, he kept some of the drugs as well."

"He didn't look like he used." Michael commented, confused.

"He didn't. He sold it himself, keeping the entire profit."

"He's an idiot. You don't mess with those people like that."

Jamie stared at the screen for a second, dumbfounded. "Michael, what the hell do you think you're doing??"

"Searching for a man who committed insurance fraud and tried to kill his own daughter. These men hold very high standards of their women. You know that. I'm here for a legitimate reason."

"Which is probably why you are still standing."

Michael glared at the voice modulator.

"Mi, I'm just worried about you." Jamie continued, ignoring Kitt's comment.

"I know." He answered tenderly. "I love you too, Ja." Reaching up, he cut the connection.

Jamie sat, blinking at her blank monitor, completely floored. He'd said it, knowing she could see him, see the expression on his face as he said the words. Glancing up, she caught Diane peering over her cubicle wall, her mouth hanging open.

Beaming stupidly, Jamie rebooted her computer, Michael's words still echoing in her ears.


*



His comlink beeped, then beeped again. Rolling over and groaning, he shifted his arm so he could speak to his partner without the muffling effect of his pillow.

"Yeah, Kitt?"

"Someone has just slipped an envelope under my wiper."

Michael snickered as he got up, "no quizzes this time?"

"Funny," Kitt responded, not amused in the least.

"Any idea who it was?" Michael asked as he pulled on his shoes.

"Teenager, scrawny one at that, searched the parking lot, found me, slipped the note then promptly left."

"The Trans Am is an easy car to spot."

"True enough." There was an odd note to Kitt's voice.

"You wouldn't like it any other way."

Grabbing his key, he exited the motel. The night air held the chill of frost again. With a single, graceful move, he slipped the envelope from the wiper as he dropped into the car.

"This is so demeaning." Kitt grumbled as he closed the door, turning up the heat for a moment in an attempt to make his driver more comfortable. "It's like I'm some modern form of the Pony Express."

Michael worked to withhold his laughter. "Ahh, but the riders for the Pony Express were constantly captured and scalped."

"I sometimes think you aim for that result."

Tearing the end of the envelope, Michael gave Kitt an evil look as he pulled out the sheet of paper.

"Where's Chatsworth?" He frowned, reading the handwritten note.

"Approximately one and a half hours north of our current location. Why, may I ask?"

"Believe it or not, Wilkins wants to talk."

After a moment of stunned silence, "this could be a trap."

"I know. But I have to give him a chance."

"Why?" Kitt asked, surprised.

"I dunno. Possibly because I feel that he has a better chance for survival if we take him into custody and prosecute him."

"When are we supposed to meet with him?"

"Tomorrow, two pm."

"Then you had better get some rest." Scanning his partner he noted the stress level. "You do realize that it's only eight pm in LA?"

"Playing matchmaker are you now?" Michael refolded the paper, placing it on the passenger seat.

"I think that has already been accomplished. But I also know you, and your stress level. Shall I contact Jamie?"

Taking a deep breath, Michael considered the offer. "No," he finally said. "If I talk to her now, I'll let something slip and I don't want her worrying." Half way out of the car, he paused. "That doesn't mean you call her as soon as I'm gone."

Watching his partner, maintaining full surveillance, Kitt refused to allow himself to relax. He spent the night planning possible routes to Chatsworth, and researching the small town.




Michael didn't show his face until late morning. He had woken with his head pounding and the wound stinging. He had downed a few mild painkillers, knowing he had to be on form when he met with Wilkins. A shower and a nap did help, settling inside Kitt, hearing the hum of the turbines relaxed him. It was going to be a long drive, and he might as well enjoy it. The day was clear, the sun shining, having not only burnt off all the frost, but warmed up the outside temperature enough for Michael to lower his window.

"So, where'm I going?"

"Proceed up Silvercreek Extension to the end, turn right, at the lights turn left and remain on county road 7 until Parker."

"How long am I looking at here?"

"For that section of the journey, approximately forty minutes. Depending on your lead foot."

Michael waited at the end of the drive of the hotel, waiting for the light to change so he could make his turn. Something caught his attention, turning his head, he did a double take. "Kitt, is that what I think it is?"

"A horse and buggy, if that's what you are asking, then yes." There was great humour colouring Kitt's voice.

"Amish?" Michael couldn't take his eyes off them as they moved with the traffic, cars around them seemingly used to having these slow moving vehicles around them.

"Mennonite actually." Kitt corrected. "This area has a large Mennonite population."

Shaking his head, noticing the light had turned he, began their trip.


"This sure is beautiful country." Michael commented as they exited the small town of Elora. The trees had changed colour vibrantly. The oranges, yellows and reds littering the two lane roadway.

Waiting for a stoplight, Michael began laughing. For the life of him, Kitt had no idea why. There was an Esso gas station on one side, a garage type building that looked vacant on the other, a house on the corner and an open field that stretched on the other side of the lights as far as the eye could see. Yet, Michael was almost in hysterics.

"What?" Kitt finally asked

"Salem?" Michael barely got the word out. "Where's the stake??"

Kitt groaned, finally clueing into his partner's mind frame. The Hamlet of Salem. Literally a 'don't blink or you'll miss it' intersection. Noticing the light had changed, Kitt took control of the car while Michael wiped the tears from his eyes.

It wasn't much further to Parker. Michael had assumed control of the car about five minutes beforehand. He had taken the opportunity to do some looking around, getting a good feel for the area. The roadways were fairly quiet, the occasional car or truck, even the occasional tractor or Mennonite for which Michael cursed coming up behind. Even with Kitt's scanning capabilities, Michael wanted to be sure they didn't spook the horse as they passed them.

Parker took them across to Arthur, to which they had to make a few turns before arriving on Highway 6 that would take them up to Chatsworth. They were halfway there. Driving through the small town, Michael hung his arm out of the window. It would have been so nice to enjoy this with Jamie. There were a great many horse farms along the route. Horse, cattle and cash crops seemed to be the area's main economy. It was difficult to get bored with so much to look at. For a city rat like him anyway.

"Ennotville?" Michael read the small sign. "Where do people come up with these names?" Kitt refused to dignify him with a response.

Crossing the bridge, up the hill, they entered Mount Forest. As they came around the corner, Michael glanced at the clock. They had made good time, and the Tim Horton's Coffee Shop looked too good to refuse, his bladder also made itself known. Kitt was surprised as Michael hung the left hand turn into the crowded parking lot.

"Is it me, or is this the hot spot in town?" Michael chuckled as he parked in one of the very few spots available.

"Thank Heaven you don't want drive thru." Michael glanced to his left, shaking his head. The drive thru line up literally extended down the street.

"At least I know the food's good."

Returning fifteen minutes later with a fritter in his mouth and a coffee in hand, it took them almost as long to get out of the parking lot and back on track.

"How much longer?" He asked around a mouthful of doughnut.

"About half an hour, or so." Kitt eyed his partner, watching for sticky crumbs. He wasn't sure if it was luck, or talent, but Michael spilled very little.

"Rocky Saugeen River, now the town of Dornoch?" Michael exclaimed. "Okay, now I know I'm in the middle of Butt-Fuck Nowhere." In a way, Kitt had to agree.


*


They pulled into Chatsworth about half an hour ahead of time. Michael drove through twice, avoiding the street Wilkins had pointed out in the note. He'd had enough. Early or not, Michael just wanted to get this over with.

Parking in the driveway of the rented house, Michael walked to the rear entrance. He didn't have to knock, Wilkins opened the door just as Michael was about to knock.

"Hello, Michael."

Now that caught him off guard. Wilkins had never used his given name before.

Walking down the few stairs, Michael found himself in a bachelor style apartment. Done in typical neutral colours, there was no furniture other than a small cot set up on the far side; the bathroom was situated across from his bed. Even the windows had no curtains. This was a far cry from the lavish estate Wilkins had lived in.

"Shall we not indulge in games here?" Wilkins paced in front of Michael.

"It would be a nice change."

Wilkins head snapped around, his mouth opening, then closing quickly. "I guess I deserved that. We have our differences, but I also know your reputation."

"Meaning what?" Michael let himself lean his shoulder against the wall, his arms crossed as confusion whirled around in his head.

"Meaning, I need your help." That grabbed Michael's attention, Wilkins thought. "I'm a dead man, and we both know it. But maybe, with your help I can get back to LA."

"And then what?"

"I know the stakes here, and I also know that you and Kitt will drop me off at the nearest police station."

"If you're that concerned for your life, then we'll need to make alternate arrangements for you to stand trial."

"Whatever it takes."

"Why?" Michael finally asked.

"Because I know that you will protect me, despite our.... differences." Michael sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, Wilkins had him pegged.

"Then we leave now."

"I'm paid up here, I'll just pack and return the key. I won't be out of your site." Michael smirked.


It took Wilkins less then ten minutes to get packed and return his keys. Sitting inside Kitt was very unnerving for him. Knowing Kitt's capabilities, and how they must feel about him, and his actions made him very uncomfortable. And, other than Michael asking for a different route back down to Guelph, to which Kitt did not respond verbally, neither of them had spoken.

Wilkins knew the route. Through Tiviotdale, across to 86, through Elmira and right down to Guelph. It was more time consuming than taking 6, but open enough to make sure they hadn't picked up a tail. Michael was constantly checking his mirrors. Wilkins knew he was with the best. He also knew the tenacity of the people who wanted him. Sighing, he turned his attention back out the window. They had just reached 86, and he was already fidgety. Figuring it was just nerves, and not wanting to piss off his hosts, he propped an elbow in the door and concentrated on the scenery.

Michael glanced over at Wilkins. He could understand the man's fears. This was no longer a game. For any of them. The aspirins had worn off hours ago, and he refused to let Wilkins know there was a problem. Looking down at the map on Kitt's screen he began chuckling. Wilkins faced him with a confused look.

"Dorking?" Michael laughed. "Someone named a town Dorking? Who thinks of these names?" Wilkins couldn't suppress the small laugh despite himself. He had heard so many things about Michael Knight, they were all proving to be true.



At the hotel, Wilkins followed Michael closely into his room.

"I'll only need a minute to gather my stuff." Ducking into the bathroom, Michael breathed a sigh of relief. Wilkins was almost suffocating him with his fears. The man had every reason, but still... Michael wasn't sure he was going to be able to get a moment to take a leak. While he had a moment, he downed another aspirin. It was going to be a long trip home.

"Mich..." Kitt's call was suddenly interrupted, static replacing Kitt's voice. From his room he heard a crash, the door being flung open, then a struggle. Opening the bathroom door, he was met by the large man that had flanked him the other day, he shoved Michael back. It was enough for the others to gag Wilkins and drag him through the sliding glass door.

"Kitt!?" There was still no response. He could hear Kitt's engine screaming and smell burnt tyre. By the time he made it outside, the men were out of the parking lot and down the road. Kitt was still fighting with the large dump truck they had parked behind him.

"Kitt," Michael placed a hand on the covered hood. Immediately Kitt stopped pushing against the truck.

"Michael!?" Kitt's voice was panicky. "What just happened?"

"Hang on, let me get this off of you." Michael pulled on the heavy material that had been thrown over his partner's hood. It took a fair chunk of strength to pry it off, the magnets they had used sticking firmly to Kitt's skin.

"What is that thing?" Kitt asked as Michael finally dislodged it.

"I was hoping you could tell me." It was heavy, that was for sure.

"It's lead lined," Kitt's voice dripped with anger. "They knew."

Michael nodded, folding up the 'blanket'. Walking over to the truck, he peered inside. 'They even left the keys for us." Sliding inside he easily moved the truck, parking it in the far end of the lot.

The few people who had gathered to watch had moved on by the time Michael returned to his partner, dump truck keys in hand.

"You ever get the feeling we made a grave mistake?"

"They knew about me... How could they have known enough to make that cover?"

"Easy. I'm sure Wilkins was not one to keep his mouth shut. And we just delivered him."

"What makes you say that?"

"I think they were waiting to see where Wilkins loyalty lay."

"There were watching us?"

"No, Wilkins more than likely. They knew his decision as soon as I arrived on his doorstep."

"You can't blame yourself for this."

"I was stupid, I should have known. With Wilkins in prison, they wouldn't get their money. They sat back and waited. They had no intentions of involving us. I was just the delivery boy." Cursing, he got out of the car.

Over at the dump truck, he took a better look inside. "Any clues in here, Pal?"

Scanning through the comlink, he double checked the interior of the vehicle. "Nothing. It's clean of anything we could use."

"Though judging by the smell, there's a lot of other crap in here."

"Literally."

"Thanks for telling me that now." He backed out, locking the door.

"Patch me through to Devon, will ya." Michael hit a few overhead buttons as soon as he had settled back inside Kitt.


A few seconds later Devon's concerned face appeared on the monitor.

"You have some news?"

Michael nodded, "Yeah, I spoke to Wilkins, he was willing to come back and face a jury."

"Why do I hear an ominous 'but' in your voice?"

"I was packing up my stuff to head home when they broke into my hotel room. They tossed a lead lined blanket on Kitt's hood and boxed him in. They got a jump on me while I was in the bathroom."

"Not very honorable, but effective." Devon placed the pen he was fiddling with down on the desk. "Are you both unharmed?"

"Yeah," Michael answered. "Mad as hell that I was too blind to see this one coming, though."

"Wilkins made his decisions long before we became involved."

"I know. I still feel like I delivered him to the death squad. He was terrified coming down."

"With every right to be, I expect. He must accept the consequences of his actions, as must you, if this turns out badly." Michael nodded again, eyes cast down. "Any idea's on where to begin searching for our man?"

"Not as yet. But I haven't checked my room yet."

"Get back to me as soon as you have any information."

"Will do." Michael nodded.

"Be careful, Michael. As of now you are a pawn."

"Don't I know it." Michael commented darkly. With that, Devon cut the transmission. "Keep your scanners peeled, though I doubt they'll be back while I check my room."

"I'll assume this means we are staying a few more days?"

"I can't leave until I know."

"I understand."



Walking back into his room, Michael shut the main door into the hallway. They hadn't disturbed much. If anything, Kitt had drawn the most attention. Looking around, there wasn't even a chair tipped over. Something on the bed caught his eye. They had left a small piece of yellow paper behind. The writing was in large, black scrawl; neat and clean. Crouching beside the bed, he contacted his partner, in hopes the numbers would make more sense to him.

"Kitt, do you have any idea what 43N41, 79W46 means?"

"Sounds like latitude and longitude coordinates to me. For Brampton, to be exact." Kitt added a moment later.

"Okay, what does the word Steeles and the number 410 bring up?" Michael read the second line to his partner.

"I need a moment." Kitt was aghast when he read the map of the loacation. "Michael, I think you should look at this yourself."

Wish rising dread, Michael returned to his partner. Without a word, he got in and stared at the map Kitt presented him with. "They can't be serious?"

"I believe they are."

"How long with it take us to get there?"

"Approximately an hour and a half."

"Lets go." Michael pulled the door closed as he hit the ignition.

"I was afraid you were going to say that." Michael smirked as he turned out of the drive.



By the time they reached Steeles and highway 410, it was dark.

"That's the building, ahead and to your right." Kitt informed his partner. "At the next set of lights turn right, then left onto Wilkinson Road." Michael shuddered involuntarily. "You have the same feelings I do?" It wasn't really a question.

"I'm pretty sure I know what we are going to find. What's the building?"

"Storage for a shipping company."

"Sounds harmless enough."

Kitt hmphed. "I've heard that before."

Hanging the left onto the road, turned left again into the wide driveway. To his left was the barely lit glass enclosure to an office area. Beyond that, along the same building was a row of docking bays for trucks. Two bays, then a space, then two more, continuing in the same patterns for about 1000 yards. To his right was what looked like the companies' parking area, then a grass median, then the bright parking area of a restaurant.

"Can you scan inside?" Michael asked his partner. The single light near the entrance of the driveway did nothing to light the rest of the area.

"There is a great deal of interference from the airport, but I'm not picking up any life signs."

"Maybe this is another wild goose chase."

"I highly doubt it."

"Me too, Partner." Michael parked the car back from the first docking bay, leaving all of Kitt's lights on to guide him. The large roll up door was open a fraction. Michael took it as an invitation. "Any nasty surprises waiting for me if I open up that door?"

"I'm not detecting any."

"Okay, here goes." Slowly climbing out of the car, he moved to the concrete staircase that was to the right of the door. At the top of the stars, he bent over, reaching the bottom of the roll up door, sliding it slowly upwards. It moved with ease and very little noise. Once it was open as far as he could reach, he ducked through the railing and eased under the grey blue door. "Kitt, can you find the lights?"

"To your left, beside the main doorway."

Michael meant that to mean beside the 'people' door. Using his hands, he felt along the wall, Kitt's lights did little but cast shadows inside docking bay. Finding three switches, he hit them all.

He waited, facing the dock for a second as his eyes adjusted. Turning to the storage area, he saw an enclosed office area to the right. The blue door was half open, and the lights were on inside. Through the glass, he could see a desk, but the chair wasn't within view. "Kitt, you sure no one is in here?" he whispered into the comlink

"Yes, I'm positive." Michael couldn't refute that.

Walking over to the office door, he pushed it fully open. What he saw just about caused him to throw up. Turning swiftly, he jumped down the dock, not stopping until his hands were on Kitt's hood. The image of the massacred body burned in his mind. Swallowing time and time again he tried to keep his stomach from heaving. Finally the sickening feeling subsided enough for him to hear Kitt's worried calls.

"What did you find in there?"

Thinking about it recalled the image and his stomach heaved again. Dropping to his knees, he let his forehead rest against Kitt's fender. "They killed him."

"How?" Kitt couldn't imagine what Michael could have seen that disturbed him to this degree.

"It looks like they used a chainsaw. Jesus..." He swallowed against the bile rising in his throat again. "I've heard of people who do this, but to see it first hand... My God, what a terrible way to die." Michael lifted his head. "Who owns this place?'

"Relative Shipping. They appear to be a legitimate company. They've rented this building for ten years."

"There is nothing inside, Kitt. They knew... had it all planned out."

"Then why bring us here?" Michael stood slowly, shifting to sit on the hood, still not trusting himself to get inside until his stomach settled a little more.

"To make sure we knew. And possibly as a warning to drop the investigation."

"Is there anything left?"

"To investigate? No, I don't think so."

"Then let them clean up their own mess, and let's go home."

Michael's head turned to face the interior of the car. "Can you see it?"

"Somewhat," came the hesitant answer.

"He was alive when they began, wasn't he?"

"I can't be certain, but from the adrenaline levels, I would have to say yes."

"How can you pick up adrenaline levels from here?"

"I didn't. I was scanning through your comlink while you were inside. Once you opened the door, there was a blood spattering on the wall beside your arm.."

Michael nodded. "Can you hit the lights? I really don't want to go back in there." The building went dark as Michael slid off the hood.


*




Jamie stood at the bottom of the sterile stairs, waiting to be lead to a room where she could confront her old friend. She didn't understand her own reasoning, what had drawn her to the prison, but she was here, and whatever it was, it was still drawing her inside, urging her to hopefully find the answers.

Trish looked up, startled when Jamie limped in. Having heard about what happened to Jamie; Michael made sure she was well aware of all the repercussions of her greed. Still, to actually see her once closest friend beaten so badly, the reasons for which all could be traced back to her... Trish dropped her head as the other woman took the seat across from her.

"Jame..." Trish tried to begin, but trailed off.

"All I want to know is why?" Jamie asked slowly, after a brief pause.

"Because I wanted out of the horse world and I couldn't figure out how to do it."

"Trish, you sell! That's how everyone else does it."

"And then what? You were always so lucky. You have friends and family who helped you bring out your other skills. I don't know how to do anything else."

"I would have helped you." Jamie offered, looking at her almost panicked friend.

"When Dave came along, " Trish pursued on a slightly different angle, needing to convince Jamie that she wasn't a horrible person. "He told me about you, about being your father, that he wanted to help you get back with Britt.... I told him I wanted out of the business; we were having lunch and I just let it slip. He said he had an idea, that he could help me." Trish paused, gathering herself. "When he first told me what he wanted to do, I thought he was insane. He said I should sleep on it, that the idea might grow on me. And God forgive me, it did. A few horses, enough for him to get out of debt, and for me to have enough money once I sold the place and everything else, that I wouldn't need to work." Trish glanced over at her visitor, knowing, yet unprepared to face the disappointment. "Dave also told me that I'd need to trust him. That we needed to involve the Foundation. That it was the only way to reunite you with Britt."

"So you knew I would be arriving with Michael?" Slight anger entered Jamie's expression.

Trish nodded, staring at the table. "Yes, Dave kept me well informed." Trish's head lifted quickly. "He wanted to know everything about you and Michael. He said that Michael was a horrible playboy, that he'd only hurt you. But, after I'd met him, saw the way he treated you, fawned over you - I told Dave he was wrong, that Michael respected you, that I envied your relationship with him." Jamie tipped her head at the other woman, beginning to understand what caused her extreme actions. "When I said that, he went ballistic, yelling at me that you were his, just like your mother was, and that unlike your mother, he would be the only one to have you."

Jamie was taken completely aback. "When did he say all this?"

"Just before Stranger was shot out from under you. He was so mad when he saw you with Michael. When he saw how Michael came to your defense. He was so sure you two were making love - though that's not how he phrased it." Jamie snorted. "I wanted out after Strange was shot. But he would have nothing to do with it. He told me to get Michael as far away from you as possible. That if I didn't, he would. I tried to convince him that you and Michael hadn't progressed that far in your relationship, but he didn't believe me. It became even worse when Rick began egging him on."

"Why didn't you say something?" Jamie sighed

"I was scared. Scared that I'd lose everything, scared that I'd end up... like you have." Trish shrugged apologetically, motioning towards some of Jamie's worst bruises.

"Well, we know he's capable. I guess I can't blame you for that."

"He owned Britt, you know that, right?"

Jamie just looked at Trish. "Why would you think that?"

"I've seen the papers, Jame. It's his name on them, or it was; Wilton had them signed over to you."

Jamie shook her head, realizing some of the things she was sure Michael already knew. "That explains why Britt and I were chased off the road."

"Michael told me that Jeremy is dead, is that true?" Trish asked cautiously.

"Yeah, Trish, he is. We figure Wilkins had him killed when he realized that Mathers almost took me out in the process."

"I never thought it would come to this." Trish was on the verge of tears, shocked deeply as Jamie half smiled at her.

"I can't say I don't have any regrets, but the good has outweighed the bad." Jamie shifted, smiling more at Trish's incredulous expression. "It's pure serendipity. Not only have I discovered how much I love my job at the Foundation, despite all the office bullcrap, but I've also finally found a guy that I love, that I see myself with years down the road. Mi and I have been together for what... about six months now, and he has never pushed me, tried to pressure me into bed, or any of the things I had expected from all the rumors. He is as Kitt described him, the most devoted and caring person I've ever known." Jamie couldn't prevent the shy smile from breaking through. "I've learned a lot about myself and the people around me."

"I really am sorry, Jame."

"I know you are." Jamie sighed, Trish had aged considerably in the past few weeks. "What are they talking about, for you?"

Trish knew instantly what Jamie was referring to. "Because I was not directly responsible for the deaths, or the fraud, and because I'm willing to squeal, they have agreed that as long as I sell everything and remain out of the horsey set, they'll turn a blind eye."

"You're lucky," Jamie commented, feeling very relieved that Trish would have a second chance.

"I know, and I have no intentions of throwing this away."

"Will you keep in touch this time?"

Trish just about fell off her chair. "You mean... you'd want me to?"

"Yes I would, and not for any underhanded reasons. We grew up together," Jamie shrugged, "I've known you most of my life, and I'd like to keep that, rebuild maybe?"

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Trish nodded as the happy tears began. "I'd really like that. To know how you and Michael are doing from time to time. Maybe reminding me what I should be looking for."

"Oh no, you don't want one like him, he's a lot to handle."

"I thought you said you two haven't..." Trish teased with an impish glint

"I'd throw something at you if I could." The easy banter confirmed to Jamie that this was a friendship worth trying to hold onto. "Do you know when you're going to be released?" Trish shook her head. "I'll talk to Mi and Devon when they return, find out what's going on."

"There's no rush. We both know I deserve to be here."

"We all make mistakes, Trish."

"And we've all paid for mine."

"Maybe, but that doesn't mean you have to lose a chunk more of your life. We all need to rebuild."

"I don't know why you're doing this, but, thanks."

"You know why." Jamie shifted again, becoming very uncomfortable in the wooden chair. "I'm going to have to go before I can't get out of this thing." Trish nodded sadly, standing as Jamie slowly hauled herself up. Coming around the table, the Trish embraced her friend gently. "I'll see you soon." Jamie told her friend before limping passed the guard and out the door.


Standing outside the facility, waiting for the cab she had called, Jamie felt as if her life was coming to order. She had been honest with Trish, she had learned a great deal about herself, and what she wanted out of life. She hadn't been sure until it had been taken from her - cliche or not. She also had had no idea what kind of guy she could see herself with. Britt was an important part of her life, her job was vital. Devon had always been there, even when she was trying to prove to herself that she didn't need anyone. He had never left her out, neither had Bonnie. They were her family, her support.

Michael and Kitt, they had become to mean more to her than anyone else in her life. It was so clear to her as the cab pulled up. Now all she had to do was tell him.


*


Bolting upright inside the dark cabin, Michael tried to calm his racing heart. The dream was fading fast, leaving him panicked, sweating and strangely, hard.

"Michael?"

"What the hell was that?" Gathering his wits was not an easy task.

"You've been asleep for four hours, dreaming for approximately half an hour." Kitt informed him, trying to help Michael relax. "Are you alright?" He asked, scanning his partner again. somewhat relieved to see his vitals returning to normal.

"Yeah, I think so." Adjusting the seat, he moved around, trying to make himself comfortable. "Where are we?"

"Just outside Los Angeles city limits."

Taking a closer look at the scenery passing by them, he began to recognize the area. "Want me to take over?" Michael asked his partner when he felt his head had cleared enough.

"No," came the stern answer.

"Why, may I ask?" Michael couldn't help the suspicion that rose within him.

"Because I am taking you straight to Jamie's; no detours, no excuses."

"Kitt..."

"I've already spoken to Bonnie. I don't have any requirements," Kitt's voice dropped and softened, adding an inflection of affection; "you on the other hand need a great deal."

Laughing, Michael adjusted his position again closing his eyes. Knowing he wasn't going to sleep, almost afraid to, he tried to keep his mind clear for the last few hours of the drive.


*


Kitt had flipped off all his lights before turning into the driveway, stopping in front of the garage, he watched his partner closely as he climbed out to open the garage door. The door moved with only a slight metal against metal grunt before Kitt drove inside.

Moving between the two cars, Michael reached inside the window, grabbing his overnight bag. Wearily, he slid between the wall and Kitt's prow, the red scanner lighting that end of the garage and casting a red glow.

Reaching for the door at the top of the stairs, he heard it unlock. Glancing over his shoulder, "Thanks, Partner."

"Goodnight, Michael." Through the tired note in Kitt's voice, Michael was sure he heard something else, something that sounded a great deal like serenity.

"Night, Kitt." Silently he closed the door behind him, a smile tugging at his lips.

Stepping into the house, he leaned against the door for a second, letting his eyes adjust. The house smelled of Jamie's soft perfume, and a tinge of whatever she had made for dinner. By now he knew the layout of the house, assuming she hadn't left anything out of place. A street lamp aided him as he entered the bedroom. He could see her, lying on her back, sound asleep. That strange contentment he usually felt when she and Kitt where near, relaxed him, letting him feel the stress and exhaustion of the passed few days.

Crouching at the side of the bed, he reached over, tenderly caressing the side of her face; not wanting to disturb her, yet needing to talk to her. With a deep breath, Jamie's eyes opened to meet his in the dark.

"Mi?" she smiled, relieved to see him home safe. In the dim light of the room, she returned the touch, letting her fingers trail over the wound on his forehead. It was warm, but already healing.

Crawling onto the bed, he lay down beside her, resting his head against her chest, snuggling into her softness. Her arm wrapped around him, holding him, fingers sliding through his hair. She was wearing a tank top with thin straps, allowing him to feel her skin beneath his cheek, clearly hear her heartbeat. It was a revelation; of all the times Kitt had mentioned listening to his heartbeat, and all the times Ja had curled into his side, her head at the center of his chest, he now understood why. He had never felt this comfortable with a woman; to allow his needs to show without fear of ridicule. Ja accepted him, knowing he had his faults and fears. Her fingers where playing in his hair, she had asked no questions, allowing him peace, space, and herself.

"They killed him Ja." He spoke barely above a whisper, but it was enough for her to stiffen and her hand to stop. He had felt her heart jump against his ear. Needing to feel close to her again, he nuzzled into her breasts. "They used me to bring him to them, then lead me back to him so I could see what they had done." He shuddered at the image that was burned into his mind.

"There was nothing you could have done. You know that." His hair was so soft, curling around her fingers as she continued caressing his head. "You can't beat yourself up over his decisions."

"He asked me to protect him, and I didn't."

She could feel his guilt as he clung to her, pressed into her. "Do you honestly believe you could have done anything different?"

He sighed shaking his head. "Maybe, I don't know."

"They would have gotten to him, sooner or later. He would have lived in fear for as long as it took them to find a way in."

"I know," he felt the guilt begin to ebb slightly again.

"They don't play games, and they don't take to traitors well. *He* is the one that deceived them."

"And we got caught in the middle." Michael lifted off her, wanting to see her face, needing to know that she was saying what she truly felt. That she didn't blame him for allowing Wilkins to die. What he saw was her concern for him, none of the negative emotions he was sure he was going to find.

"I talked to Trish today." His confused and slightly angered expression made her smile, though she tried to hide it. "I wanted to know why she changed, what could have possibly caused someone who loved horses so much to turn on them." Jamie shifted, wanting to be closer to him. "She told me a great deal, filled in a lot of blanks for me."

Michael's expression softened, understanding, and knowing she was safe. Trish would never intentionally hurt her "She became embroiled in this whole mess too, huh?" Jamie nodded, a sad, slow movement.

"She was too scared by the time she realized what she'd managed to get herself into. And I can understand why." Jamie shifted in a vain attempt to make her shoulder and ribs more comfortable. It was more of a nagging pain now, but one that never seemed to let up.

"You're very forgiving, you know that?" Even in the dark, Jamie could see his blue eyes soften.

"You're still dressed." She commented back.

Shrugging off his jacket, letting it drop off the edge of the bed into a heap, he then kicked off his sneakers. He lay back against her, enjoying the feel of her breasts, lulled by her heartbeat and soft touches. "This is about as much energy as I have left."

She chuckled quietly. He found her left hand, where it was resting against her belly and laced his fingers with hers. "I love you, Mi."

Lifting up onto his elbow, he stretched, kissing her, letting it deepen as she responded, welcoming him, tightening his fingers around hers. Breaking the kiss with a soft sigh he relaxed back against her, using her shoulder as a pillow, his cheek still against the top of her breast, her heartbeat, slightly faster than before, drummed against him.

"Is this okay?" He asked, his voice taking on the gruff note she had missed hearing. He was so afraid of hurting her, knowing she was still sore.

"It's perfect." Her cheek pressed against his forehead, her hand on his shoulder, she felt content and fulfilled for the first time.