One Good Turn - Knight Rider, human AU
Jul. 5th, 2011 07:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thecrazyalaskanJune 1978
The knock at his apartment door came at 2:34 AM, and was barely heard over the storm. Detective Michael Long was not the kind of person to be receiving visitors at such an hour, unless it was with his pistol in hand—as he was doing now, edging toward the door in his T-shirt and boxers, pistol cocked and at the ready. "Who's there?" he called through the door, one hand on the handle and the other on his pistol.
"It's KITT." The voice on the other side of the door was female, familiar and almost shaken.
Michael lowered the pistol and looked through the peephole. Through the fisheye distortion of the glass, he could see a woman about his age standing out in the hall, her head bowed and a suitcase sitting at her feet.
It was KITT, alright; he opened the door and looked her over more closely. She was soaking wet, her hair and clothes dripping, and looked positively miserable. "KITT, what the hell?"
"Michael, I apologize," she said quietly, brushing her hair out of her face. "I understand that it's late—"
"Come in," he cut off, waving her inside and laying his pistol on the small table by the door.
KITT smiled thinly and picked up her suitcase. "Thank you, Michael," she said quietly as she stepped inside and started to unbutton her coat.
"Jesus, KITT, you looked like you jumped in a lake," Michael noted, reaching out for the black wool shell she was discarding. "Did you walk here?" It wouldn't have surprised him; she hated driving in the rain.
"I took a bus as far as I could," she replied, handing him the coat and watching him hang it up on a hook on the wall. "I walked the remaining quarter mile."
"Why didn't you call me?" he gently chastised.
"I didn't have any leftover pocket change for the pay phone," KITT confessed. She shivered in her dark sweater and skirt. "Michael, may I change in your restroom?"
"Sure, KITT," he replied. He didn't need to give her directions, and as she stepped into the bathroom, he went into the kitchen to try to find something suitably warm and soothing to guard against the chills to which she was susceptible.
"Thank you for taking me in, Michael," KITT called out.
"It's no problem, KITT," he called back, glancing over his shoulder. From his place in the kitchen, in front of the fridge, he could see where she hadn't closed the bathroom door all the way and was pulling off her sweater and standing in front of his mirror in a black skirt and white bra. He averted his eyes.
"I do appreciate it," she added. Again, Michael looked over his shoulder; she was shimmying out of the skirt. "I can't think of many people I could turn to—" she was unclasping the bra now, and he averted his eyes once more—"at two thirty in the morning." There was a pause, filled with wet clothes being draped over the edge of the tub and the rustling of clothes and a towel. After a few moments, she emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a nightgown and one of Michael's towels wrapped around her wet hair.
"Yeah, what brings you over right now?" he asked, pulling out a gallon of milk. Maybe he had some honey and nutmeg in the cupboards…?
KITT sighed softly as she leaned against the low counter that separated the kitchen and dining room. "Trouble at the Knight household," she confessed.
Michael paused, setting the milk on the counter and looking over at her with a serious expression. "Your brother again?" he asked. There were two, Michael knew, but one of them was imprisoned in Africa; that left only the other, the third eldest Knight child.
She nodded sadly, mumbling, "I'm afraid so."
"What the hell—" he set two coffee mugs on the counter next to the milk—"is he complaining about now?"
"He's mad that I'm staying with him and our father while I'm home from university," she explained quietly. "He still thinks I'm our father's favorite." There was a pause, followed by an even softer: "He can get quite nasty after he's had a few…"
Michael looked at her with growing concern. "He was drunk?"
"Perhaps a little," she replied quietly. "Oh Michael, I don't know—" She buried her face in his hands. "He was yelling and I just—I had to get out of the house."
"Hey, come on," Michael soothed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "Don't think about him right now."
"I wish I understood why he hated me," KITT mumbled, swiping at her eyes. "He thinks that because I remind our father of our m—"
"KITT," Michael gently cut off. "Don't think about him or your parents for a while, okay?"
She sniffled slightly, but nodded. "There you go… Want some warm milk?" he offered. "Recipe straight from Abby Long's kitchen—milk, honey, nutmeg?"
"That sounds wonderful, Michael," KITT replied. "Thank you…"
The pair chatted while Michael worked in the kitchen—about KITT's studies, about Michael's work (the few details he could reveal at least), the tacky wallpaper in his apartment's kitchen, anything to distract KITT from her brother and the storm outside.
"Here you go," Michael announced some twenty minutes later as he presented KITT with a steaming coffee mug. "One Long Family Late-Night Cocktail."
KITT smiled at the presentation and thanked him before taking a sip. "Oh, Michael, this is wonderful," she said sincerely.
"I'll give the compliments to Mom," Michael replied, lifting his own mug in a toast.
With a smile, the sincerest she'd given since she'd turned up on his doorstep, she lifted her own mug as well, and they clinked them together. She looked thoughtfully into the china before saying quietly, "Thank you again for letting me stay here, Michael."
"It's not a problem, KITT," he replied between sips.
"Michael, please know that…" She paused to consider the words. "If you ever need something like this—a quiet place to clear your head… you can always turn to me. At my dorm, at home, it doesn't matter. The offer is always open."
Michael considered her, her offer. "Thank you, KITT," he said finally. "I really appreciate it."
"Will you keep that in mind?" she asked.
"If I ever need you, I'll look you up."
-.-.-.-
May 1982
She had seen Michael Long be brought in, and he'd been a mess. A horrid, awful, bloody, close to clinically dead mess. Despite this, her father, his close associate and friend and the team of doctors working on him all assured her he would be fine.
That was probably a good thing because KITT couldn't imagine a world without Michael Long—or Michael Knight, as he was being renamed. And that was all KITT knew of the process… that and that so far as the facial reconstruction went, he would come to look like her oldest brother.
Hopefully, gaining the looks and name of a Knight wouldn't give him the poor personal conduct her brothers had, she mused one afternoon. Garthe was still locked away in an African prison; Jennifer was always gone, hating her father's work with a passion; they'd long ago lost track of KARR, who left on less-than-pleasant terms after KITT finished her schooling and was elevated so highly over her siblings. Perhaps she was her father's favorite; if she was, it was only because she wasn't a royal screw up.
There was a knock on the study door. She looked up, marked her place in her book and stood to open the door. Standing on the other side was—no. He was still in prison. This would take some getting used to. "Hello, Michael," she greeted, hoping the shaking of her voice wasn't obvious.
"Hi, KITT," he greeted, though his heart wasn't it.
"Is everything alright?" she asked. She knew the answer was no—based on the snippets of conversation she'd caught between her father and Mr. Miles, he'd not reacted well to the surgery and name change.
"KITT… You remember how you said that if I ever needed to clear my head, I could turn to you?" he asked slowly.
"Of course, Michael," KITT replied. How could she forget that night?
"…That offer still stand?"
She smiled warmly. "Of course."
"Even if I'm not Michael Long?" The words seemed to almost pain him.
"Michael Knight is just as welcome as Michael Long," she replied, stepping aside to allow his entry. "Please, come inside."
--- --- ---
Title: One Good Turn
Author: TheCrazyAlaskan
Fandom / Setting: Classic Knight Rider, pre-series
Characters / Pairings: Michael Long (Knight), KITT, mentions of KARR, Garthe Knight, Jennifer Knight
Rating: T+
Warnings / Notes: AU, humanized / genderbent AIs, mentions of alcohol
Summary: One good turn deserved another… even several years later.
Thrown together based on a bunny bred with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
locoexclaimer . I can't humanize KITT as male. I tried; it doesn't work. xD
All characters (C) Glen A Larson
The knock at his apartment door came at 2:34 AM, and was barely heard over the storm. Detective Michael Long was not the kind of person to be receiving visitors at such an hour, unless it was with his pistol in hand—as he was doing now, edging toward the door in his T-shirt and boxers, pistol cocked and at the ready. "Who's there?" he called through the door, one hand on the handle and the other on his pistol.
"It's KITT." The voice on the other side of the door was female, familiar and almost shaken.
Michael lowered the pistol and looked through the peephole. Through the fisheye distortion of the glass, he could see a woman about his age standing out in the hall, her head bowed and a suitcase sitting at her feet.
It was KITT, alright; he opened the door and looked her over more closely. She was soaking wet, her hair and clothes dripping, and looked positively miserable. "KITT, what the hell?"
"Michael, I apologize," she said quietly, brushing her hair out of her face. "I understand that it's late—"
"Come in," he cut off, waving her inside and laying his pistol on the small table by the door.
KITT smiled thinly and picked up her suitcase. "Thank you, Michael," she said quietly as she stepped inside and started to unbutton her coat.
"Jesus, KITT, you looked like you jumped in a lake," Michael noted, reaching out for the black wool shell she was discarding. "Did you walk here?" It wouldn't have surprised him; she hated driving in the rain.
"I took a bus as far as I could," she replied, handing him the coat and watching him hang it up on a hook on the wall. "I walked the remaining quarter mile."
"Why didn't you call me?" he gently chastised.
"I didn't have any leftover pocket change for the pay phone," KITT confessed. She shivered in her dark sweater and skirt. "Michael, may I change in your restroom?"
"Sure, KITT," he replied. He didn't need to give her directions, and as she stepped into the bathroom, he went into the kitchen to try to find something suitably warm and soothing to guard against the chills to which she was susceptible.
"Thank you for taking me in, Michael," KITT called out.
"It's no problem, KITT," he called back, glancing over his shoulder. From his place in the kitchen, in front of the fridge, he could see where she hadn't closed the bathroom door all the way and was pulling off her sweater and standing in front of his mirror in a black skirt and white bra. He averted his eyes.
"I do appreciate it," she added. Again, Michael looked over his shoulder; she was shimmying out of the skirt. "I can't think of many people I could turn to—" she was unclasping the bra now, and he averted his eyes once more—"at two thirty in the morning." There was a pause, filled with wet clothes being draped over the edge of the tub and the rustling of clothes and a towel. After a few moments, she emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a nightgown and one of Michael's towels wrapped around her wet hair.
"Yeah, what brings you over right now?" he asked, pulling out a gallon of milk. Maybe he had some honey and nutmeg in the cupboards…?
KITT sighed softly as she leaned against the low counter that separated the kitchen and dining room. "Trouble at the Knight household," she confessed.
Michael paused, setting the milk on the counter and looking over at her with a serious expression. "Your brother again?" he asked. There were two, Michael knew, but one of them was imprisoned in Africa; that left only the other, the third eldest Knight child.
She nodded sadly, mumbling, "I'm afraid so."
"What the hell—" he set two coffee mugs on the counter next to the milk—"is he complaining about now?"
"He's mad that I'm staying with him and our father while I'm home from university," she explained quietly. "He still thinks I'm our father's favorite." There was a pause, followed by an even softer: "He can get quite nasty after he's had a few…"
Michael looked at her with growing concern. "He was drunk?"
"Perhaps a little," she replied quietly. "Oh Michael, I don't know—" She buried her face in his hands. "He was yelling and I just—I had to get out of the house."
"Hey, come on," Michael soothed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. "Don't think about him right now."
"I wish I understood why he hated me," KITT mumbled, swiping at her eyes. "He thinks that because I remind our father of our m—"
"KITT," Michael gently cut off. "Don't think about him or your parents for a while, okay?"
She sniffled slightly, but nodded. "There you go… Want some warm milk?" he offered. "Recipe straight from Abby Long's kitchen—milk, honey, nutmeg?"
"That sounds wonderful, Michael," KITT replied. "Thank you…"
The pair chatted while Michael worked in the kitchen—about KITT's studies, about Michael's work (the few details he could reveal at least), the tacky wallpaper in his apartment's kitchen, anything to distract KITT from her brother and the storm outside.
"Here you go," Michael announced some twenty minutes later as he presented KITT with a steaming coffee mug. "One Long Family Late-Night Cocktail."
KITT smiled at the presentation and thanked him before taking a sip. "Oh, Michael, this is wonderful," she said sincerely.
"I'll give the compliments to Mom," Michael replied, lifting his own mug in a toast.
With a smile, the sincerest she'd given since she'd turned up on his doorstep, she lifted her own mug as well, and they clinked them together. She looked thoughtfully into the china before saying quietly, "Thank you again for letting me stay here, Michael."
"It's not a problem, KITT," he replied between sips.
"Michael, please know that…" She paused to consider the words. "If you ever need something like this—a quiet place to clear your head… you can always turn to me. At my dorm, at home, it doesn't matter. The offer is always open."
Michael considered her, her offer. "Thank you, KITT," he said finally. "I really appreciate it."
"Will you keep that in mind?" she asked.
"If I ever need you, I'll look you up."
-.-.-.-
May 1982
She had seen Michael Long be brought in, and he'd been a mess. A horrid, awful, bloody, close to clinically dead mess. Despite this, her father, his close associate and friend and the team of doctors working on him all assured her he would be fine.
That was probably a good thing because KITT couldn't imagine a world without Michael Long—or Michael Knight, as he was being renamed. And that was all KITT knew of the process… that and that so far as the facial reconstruction went, he would come to look like her oldest brother.
Hopefully, gaining the looks and name of a Knight wouldn't give him the poor personal conduct her brothers had, she mused one afternoon. Garthe was still locked away in an African prison; Jennifer was always gone, hating her father's work with a passion; they'd long ago lost track of KARR, who left on less-than-pleasant terms after KITT finished her schooling and was elevated so highly over her siblings. Perhaps she was her father's favorite; if she was, it was only because she wasn't a royal screw up.
There was a knock on the study door. She looked up, marked her place in her book and stood to open the door. Standing on the other side was—no. He was still in prison. This would take some getting used to. "Hello, Michael," she greeted, hoping the shaking of her voice wasn't obvious.
"Hi, KITT," he greeted, though his heart wasn't it.
"Is everything alright?" she asked. She knew the answer was no—based on the snippets of conversation she'd caught between her father and Mr. Miles, he'd not reacted well to the surgery and name change.
"KITT… You remember how you said that if I ever needed to clear my head, I could turn to you?" he asked slowly.
"Of course, Michael," KITT replied. How could she forget that night?
"…That offer still stand?"
She smiled warmly. "Of course."
"Even if I'm not Michael Long?" The words seemed to almost pain him.
"Michael Knight is just as welcome as Michael Long," she replied, stepping aside to allow his entry. "Please, come inside."
--- --- ---
Title: One Good Turn
Author: TheCrazyAlaskan
Fandom / Setting: Classic Knight Rider, pre-series
Characters / Pairings: Michael Long (Knight), KITT, mentions of KARR, Garthe Knight, Jennifer Knight
Rating: T+
Warnings / Notes: AU, humanized / genderbent AIs, mentions of alcohol
Summary: One good turn deserved another… even several years later.
Thrown together based on a bunny bred with
locoexclaimer . I can't humanize KITT as male. I tried; it doesn't work. xDAll characters (C) Glen A Larson
