Chapter Text
Six months into their partnership, the Foundation held a formal review. Devon, Bonnie and Michael were all expected to submit reports against various metrics and deliverables (Michael had made his rather colourful opinion of them well known to Kitt for the entirety of the drafting process, it was very illogical). Kitt rationalised that as he was half of the partnership that he and Michael were settling into, he should also submit a report. It was emailed to Devon with Michael carbon copied in, and Kitt awaited the results of the review with interest. After all, it was his future being decided. Michael could be redeployed elsewhere if necessary, but Kitt had a very specialised and therefore somewhat limited function when it came to real world application and deep within a corner of his CPU he could admit to some concern if the Knight Industry 2000 project was to be mothballed.
During their seventh month together, Devon mentioned in passing that the review was favourable (Kitt would have breathed a sigh of relief had he the parts to do so). Michael was too busy to really pay attention to the news that their partnership would continue, being intent on stopping a particularly vile variant of cocaine reaching the streets. As Kitt was more than capable of multi-tasking he downloaded a copy of the review, and the board’s recommendations for later discussion with his partner. After all, it was logical to ensure that they remained in good favour with the powers that be. Politics was an illogical way to run a program, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t going to affect them in the real world.
Kitt’s report was not in the version that had gone to the board. The AI checked and saw that Devon had read it, and sent it to Bonnie as well, but had not included it in the information sent along. Only his, Bonnies and Michael’s reports had gone. In an effort to better understand why, Kitt read through both Devon and Bonnie’s reports. He saw much what he expected to see, meticulous data and figures with accurate representation of the facts. Michael’s report was similar, though more of his Driver’s warm personality shone through in the wording and phrasing. Michael had remained factual, but there was no doubt that the human was thoroughly engaged with the Foundation’s core mission and keen to continue. His tone when discussing Kitt was affectionate, though not unprofessional. The only credible reason the AI could determine for removing his report was some inadequacy in it, so to determine where that error lay, Kitt pulled up his own report and compared the two.
Immediately the difference was apparent. Not the factual content, Michael had not omitted any missteps or errors they had made together, but the tone. Throughout his report Kitt had used the title Driver when referring to Michael. Throughout Michael’s report, he had called Kitt, Kitt. He had spoken of Kitt as a person and partner. Kitt had spoken of his Driver.
Their mission, as so often happened, came to a successful close, although Michael managed to strain his left knee and ankle rather badly. The human had needed to scramble across a rather difficult series of obstacles to get to safety as Kitt had been a little tardy in his response to an unexpected sniper. Michael’s barely stifled cry of pain had been a more effective admonishment than any spoken rebuke and Kitt had been very quiet throughout the usual post mission report.
Michael had been limping as he went into the diner for a much-needed meal and Kitt calculated that his Driver would need to sleep as well, preferably soon after the meal. Devon had not mentioned a need for immediate return but Kitt was eager to get his partner to headquarters, where a human would hopefully be able to force the medical attention Michael had declined on the two occasions that Kitt had suggested it. While he waited for Michael to return Kitt tried to rewrite the report he had submitted using a tone that more clearly reflected his partnership with Michael. He struggled with the wording almost at once, as simply replacing ‘Driver’ with ‘Michael’ did not improve the situation at all.
“Hey Kitt,” Michael’s voice sounded over the commlink, “Come meet me in the alley behind the diner, would you please? No rush, partner.”
“On my way Michael,” Kitt replied, moving at once despite Michael saying there was no need to rush. There was no reason that Kitt could compute for Michael to go to the rear of the diner, and with his injuries it would have made logical sense for him to return to Kitt through the same door he’d used to access the diner earlier.
Michael’s vital signs showed the slight elevation that Kitt had come to associate with pain, though no more so than when he’d gone for a meal, so the human hadn’t gone into the alley to be sick or because the pain was impairing his thinking. As Kitt entered the alley, all his scanners were running at their highest settings. Michael was sitting on a milk crate, his left leg stretched out to one side, in the middle of the alley. He’d clearly sourced his seat from the stack against the wall and Kitt wondered why his partner had dragged a crate into the middle of the alley if he’d needed to sit down.
“Come here, pal,” Michael held out a hand and Kitt rolled forward obediently, moving until the human was able to lean against his hood, which Michael did at once.
“Are you unwell? Should I call for help?” Kitt asked, unable to determine why they were here and why Michael hadn’t tried to access the chassis which would be much more comfortable for the human; and was temperature controlled. The alley was hot at this time of day, with the vents from the diner adding to the summer sun.
“No, I don’t want you to call for help,” Michael murmured, “I want to talk to you, and it seemed … fairer to do this when you were the only one in the chassis.”
“I don’t understand,” Kitt said, and Michael smiled at him.
“You’re distracted,” the human said it simply, “I’m not angry with you, but you seem a little… pre-occupied by something that wasn’t our mission. Now, you don’t have to tell me, because this is not an interrogation, but if you want some help with whatever is bothering you, I’m here.”
If Kitt could have flushed in shame he would have. Of course, Michael had noticed. And he was very kindly overlooking the injuries that Kitt may have been able to prevent if he hadn’t been distracted in the first place.
“I… it is the six-month review,” Kitt could at the very least be honest with the human, “I was attempting to determine why my report was not included.”
“Devon felt that the Board would either think that someone had written it pretending to be you, or wouldn’t react well to what most of them see as a car reporting on a human,” Michael said at once, “I wasn’t happy about it, because you deserve to have your say, but I didn’t want to risk a successful review being side-tracked by ignorance.”
“… he discussed it with you?” Kitt was surprised that Devon had done so, after all as Director of FLAG Devon had final say over most things. Michael nodded, pulling a face and shifting a little to get more comfortable.
“As senior partner I had to sign off on what went, and I asked why your report wasn’t included. It was quite the argument,” Michael sighed, “I’m sorry Kitt, I should have talked to you about it sooner. I take it you were also reviewing the Board’s sign off?”
“Yes,” Kitt’s tone was dismissive, “But that was not what had me distracted. Michael, your report spoke of me as your partner. As a person, even. Your language choice is brief but evocative. Mine was… cold. I didn’t even use your name. And when I try to correct it now, I am… struggling.”
Michael nodded, his hand coming up to rest on the scanner lightly. From his expression, viewed by one of the cameras in the cabin that faced forward, he was thinking. Kitt waited for the results. After all, if Michael had read and was not concerned by the tone of Kitt’s report, he would surely be able to explain this discrepancy to Kitt.
“Kitt, people are… the sum of many influences as they learn and grow up. You started your life working in Washington, yes? Doing data retrieval for people who were professional researchers,” Michael smiled, “And don’t tell me you aren’t surprised I knew that.”
“I never mentioned it,” Kitt murmured, “Did Bonnie?”
“No, I had a snoop around your files,” Michael shrugged, “I wanted to know who you had worked with before – because there was no way you had never interacted with people other than Bonnie prior to working with me. Your language use is very precise, you know. You don’t go in for euphemisms and rarely use any form of slang at all. That is because the people who you interacted with before we started working together were professional researchers – your writing style is scientific and plain, like theirs.”
Kitt considered this. Michael had gone through the usual schooling for a child on this continent, and spoke in a manner typical for one of his socio-economic background. At some point it was clear that someone had taught him to write a concise report, either the police, or more likely, the Intelligence branch of Special Forces. Their educational influences, as Michael put it, were very different.
“As for not using my name, I don’t recall that at all,” Michael frowned at the camera Kitt had trained on him. Kitt was not certain how Michael always knew which ‘eye’ Kitt was keeping on him, but he always did.
“I called you my Driver,” Kitt reminded him in a small voice and Michael nodded.
“That’s my name,” he agreed, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to be reduced to a descriptor.
“Your name is Michael Knight,” Kitt corrected him, wondering if his friend had suffered a blow to the head that Kitt hadn’t noticed earlier. Michael chuckled, then winced as he shifted his leg again. Kitt would need to get him off the milkcrate and into the chassis soon.
“Kitt, that is your name for me,” the human shook his head, “Just as I didn’t capitalise all of the letters in your name – because your initials are not your name to me. Your name is Kitt, not K.I.T.T. or Knight Industries 2000.”
The difference in pronunciation was crystal clear, Kitt didn’t even need his voice analysis program to understand it. And now Kitt understood why Michael hadn’t just climbed into the driver’s seat and had this discussion while driving. His partner had understood an element of Kitt’s very being that had been hidden from Kitt himself. Kitt had named Michael – had given what should have been a technical description of his relationship with the human who sat in the left-hand seat a meaning that had never been programmed into him. Kitt had chosen to imbue that word with the essence of their partnership, as a human would choose to do so with a cherished person. And Michael had understood that at once, had not been at all concerned by the coldness of the term. Even Devon and Bonnie, who had known Kitt the longest, had not understood the importance of that term, and had therefore removed his report from the review.
Michael was his Driver. Michael was … his. It was …indescribable. And this change had happened in only six short months.
“Still with me buddy?” Michael asked, concern in his tone and features.
“Always,” it was the only proper response to give, “However I will feel better if you get off the milkcrate and into the chassis. You’re aggravating the injury to your knee and ankle.”
“Bossy,” Michael chuckled, and leaned on the hood heavily as he got to his feet, bringing the milkcrate up with him and limping to put it back with its fellows. Kitt’s scanners showed that the limp had worsened and the knee joint was hot and filling with fluid.
“I am calling Dr Alpert, Michael,” Kitt informed his limping Driver, “If you won’t let me take you to the hospital, then at least let the Foundation physician look you over.”
“Alright, Kitt. But only to please you,” Michael mumbled and slid slowly into his usual seat. Kitt closed the door and started the engine automatically, steering them towards the alley exit. Michael leaned back without protest; eyes closed as he breathed deeply to combat the spike of pain that climbing into the chassis had created.
“After all, I need to ensure my Driver is in the best of health,” Kitt murmured as he merged with the afternoon traffic. Michael just smiled and let the AI drive.