Meandering in Minefields

Chapter 2

They had left Glacier in the late afternoon and had driven through the night again to get to Michael's cabin. As Kitt pulled up to the garage, Bonnie craned her neck to get a glimpse of the property. It was a lot different than she had expected. She had been thinking that an appropriate place for a bass charter would be a smelly old shack in the woods, but this cabin was actually pretty. It was nestled among a stand of branchy trees, above a lake, complete with a well-maintained pier and fishing boat.

Michael hopped out. "You want the nickel tour?" he asked.

"Sure. It's not what I expected."

"Why's that?" Michael asked, clearly baiting her.

She just shook her head and they went into the main house. When they stepped into the kitchen, Bonnie was surprised again. There were large, floor-to-ceiling windows in the dining area, overlooking the water. There were knick-knacks on the table and nice, if somewhat plain, wooden chairs around it. The kitchen window even had curtains. It was not the bass fishing bachelor house she had been picturing. And obviously, Michael knew what she was thinking because he was watching her reaction with a devious grin. "Something wrong?"

"No. Not at all. I just . . . curtains?? Michael Knight picked out curtains?"

"Well, I can't take full credit. I actually had a decorator at the home improvement store recommend things."

"Decorator? Okay, I'm not sure that's fitting the whole Michael Knight 'Man of Action' image either."

Michael pulled a chair out from under the table and offered it to her before swinging its neighbor around so that he could sit on it backwards. "What, did you think I was some uncouth barbarian unable to match colors?" he asked.

"I saw the place you used to keep in LA," she said with an innocent smile.

"Well, you'll be happy to know that the garage is a mess and you probably don't want to venture into the attic alone."

"I can vouch for the state of the garage. I can barely squeeze inside without getting grease on me," Kitt said over the comlink.

"Thanks," Michael said sarcastically. "I was getting around to cleaning it up."

Bonnie scanned the charming little kitchen and the den. It was all tastefully decorated and masculine. "It's great, Michael. I love it."

"Thanks. The spare room is this way. You can put your stuff in there." Michael led her to a small but airy room that overlooked toodsoods and road in front of the property. She dropped her shoulder bag on the bed and glanced out the bay window before following Michael into the kitchen.

"Cup of coffee?" he asked.

"Sure, I'd love some," she replied before they were interrupted by what sounded like someone tramping up a set of basement stairs.

Michael jumped at first but then he cocked his head and approached the door next to the kitchen. "Zeke? That you?"

They heard the clatter of something rolling and then thudding against the floor.

A voice wafted through the door, carrying a southern twang with it. "Shit, Mike, don't go sneaking up on a man like that. Ya made me drop my rucksack, dammit."

Michael smiled, rolled his eyes, and opened the door. "You're in my house, Zeke."

"Well, where else am I gonna put my fish? Ya know damn well that the missus . . . " He stopped when he got to the top of the stairs and spotted Bonnie. "Oh, pardon me, ma'am, I didn't know Mike here had company."

"That's okay," Bonnie said, not sure what to make of him. His slow, meandering drawl was not something she was used to hearing.

"Zeke Bilmer at your service, ma'am," he said, switching a black backpack from his right hand to his shoulder to shake her hand.

"Bonnie Barstow."

"It's a pleasure to meet you. It's about time old Mike here had some company." He tossed Michael a wink, which Michael returned with a stern glare.

"Oh, Mike, I left some fish in your freezer downstairs."

"I figured. The legal or the illegal kind?"

Zeke smiled and slowed up his drawl a little bit more, "Well now, Officer, I'm very, very sorry. I rekon I didn't know that these here trout were too small. I'll never do it again, no sir."

"Don't you think most of the cops in this area know about your 'dumb redneck from the sticks' act by now."

Zeke smiled impishly. He was small and unassuming, about the same age as Michael but shorter than Bonnie. "It's worth a try, ain't it? They haven't caught me yet."

He pulled his sack tighter around his shoulder and headed for the door, obviously comfortable around the house. "Glad you're back, Mike. I'm on my way down to the range to do some shootin. Catch you later. Pleasure to meet you ma'am."

He left giving Michael one more wink. Bonnie looked at Michael questioningly.

"Zeke's my neighbor. He watches the place for me."

"Seems like an interesting guy."

"Oh he is. He's former special ops too, so we get along pretty well. Actually we should have him and his wife over for dinner later this week. They're a lot of fun. But I'll warn you, Zeke's quite a character."

"Sounds like someone I know," Bonnie laughed.

"Who ever made the rule that you have to be nice to your guests?" Michael complained as he sifted a spoonful of coffee grounds into a filter and filled the carafe with water.

* * *

"Come on. If you don't at least go once, you don't get to mock it. You don't know what you're missing."

Bonnie gave Michael a patient smile. "I've been fishing before. It's really not my idea of a fun way to spend the afternoon. Kitt and I were going to go for a drive in the mountains anyway."

"It can wait. The mountains aren't going anywhere and you've been here two days without fishing - that's bad for my reputation," Michael said, taking her hand and leading her towards the door. When she hesitated, he figured he was going to have to compromise. "Bring a book if you're going to be bored. It would just be nice to have some company for a change."

She glanced out the window and back to Michael again, wavering.

"It's a beautiful day . . ."

"Alright. Alright. But I'm bringing a book."

Michael couldn't suppress his grin as she disappeared in the direction of her room and came back with a withered paperback that looked like it had been in progress for quite some time.

The sun had already burned off the thin layer of mist that covered the lake on most mornings, but the water was still calm and quiet. There weren't any other boats out to stir up the waves.

As the boat zipped across the water, Michael listened to the echo of the motor bounce off the cliffs on the far side of the lake. There was a quiet channel between this lake and a much smaller one that was partially weed choked and a bit shallow. There was a sharp change between the deeper water in the lake and the shallow channel, making it a favorite for the local bass. Especially at this time of the morning, Michael could usually count on bringing home a good haul.

Bonnie was sitting in the bow of the boat, in front of the glass shield to the left of the captain's chair. Her hair was whipping around in the breeze; she had forgotten to tie it back before they left. Michael decided that she must dye it since it was still the same beautiful chocolate brown it had always been. Idly he wondered if she had ever gone through a phase where she dyed it different colors. He chuckled a little at the idea of her being a platinum blonde. Somehow he just couldn't see it.

But what he could see was having her here on a more permanent basis. He knew that she probably had no interest in living at the cabin, but he wished there was some way to get her west of the Mississippi at least. He made a mental note to talk to Kitt about it.

They reached the channel and Michael cut the motor. let let the boat drift a while before they reached a good spot and threw out the anchor. It splashed in the shallow water, sinking to rest in a bed of weeds. He pulled in the bright yellow line and tied it off.

Bonnie stood and carefully joined him in the rear of the boat. Michael had brought along several rods and reels. He picked out a good one and handed it to her. "You have to at least try a few casts."

She looked skeptical but accepted the pole anyway.

"Yoed aed a refresher?"

"Hmm, I think I know the basics. Cast it out, wind it back in. As I recall, it isn't rocket science."

"Pretty much." Michael picked out two shiny lures from his tackle box and tied each oo a o a line.

He had to admit he was surprised when she was able to fairly competently cast out the lure on her first attempt. It didn't go very far, but a part of him had been worried about getting a hook in the face. She half-heartedly continued casting while Michael set up his own pole and joined her.

Before long, Michael had a strike. He stood up and yanked the pole back, setting the hook. Judging by the amount of bend in the pole, the fish was probably a good size. He watched as the line sliced through the water, giving away the trajectory of the fish as it headed for a weed bed. Michael pulled as hard as he could to redirect it, having lost too many wrestling matches with fish in weeds. After letting it run for a while to tire it out, he wrangled the fish toward the boat and scooped it out of the water with a net. Bonnie had stopped casting and was just watching him. The brown and green speckled fish flipped over and over as Michael set it on the floor of the boat before hoisting it into the livewell.

"See, it's a lot more than cast and wind in. There's a sport to it."

Bonnie just nodded. Michael thought she looked a little distracted.

After inspecting his lure, Michael went back to casting. It wasn't long before he had four fish. Bonnie had stopped making any attempt to cast her own line and was instead just watching him. Actually, Michael found it a bit disconcerting because she wasn't saying much. Hnderndered what was going through her head.

After landing a fifth fish, Michael was ready to call it a morning. Bonnie was staring into the livewell, watching the fish as they hovered in the tank with only a few flicks of their fins and tails.

"Do you ever feel bad for them?" Bonnie asked.

"For the fish? No, why?"

"I don't k" sh" she said in a wistful voice. "They're minding their own business, swimming in their lake, not bothering anyone. One day they grab a bite of their usual breakfast and someone sets a hook in them and yanks then right out of the only world they know. They're in pain and they can't breathe and then they get thrown into a little tank where they can't even really swim, probably ceteletely confused about what happened to them."

"Well, I never looked at it like that, but I doubt fish consciously think. They aren't really very smart."

"No, but they feel pain and they have an instinct to try to protect themselves. That's why they head for the weeds when they get hooked. They're trying desperately to stay where they are but they're fighting against a force that's much bigger and stronger."

"If it makes you feel better, we could throw them back."

Bonnie shrugged. "It probably wouldn't do any good anyway. They've been injured and scarred. It's probably just better to keep then where they are, isolated in their tank. Who knows, maybe every time they see a nice worm in the water, they'll be too afraid to eat it. Maybe they'll just always assume that something is going to yank them back into the air."

Michael set his tackle down and walked over to the livewell. He stared inside at the five lonely creatures. "Fish have notoriously short memories. If we let them go, they'd probably take the first worm to come their way."

"Accept for the ones with injured mouths or the one you snagged through the eye."

"They'll eat because it's what they need to do to survive." Michael reached down and hooked one under the jaw with his finger. He pulled it up and supported its weight with his other hand. "Believe it or not, I've caught many fish that have scars from previous encounters with a hook. They get put back in their natural environment and their wounds heal. They adapt and keep swimming," he said. He set the fish in the water and let it go. The bass hovered at the surface, motionless for a moment. Then it suddenly flipped its tail and disappeared down into the water.

"See, it only takes them a few minutes to figure out where they are and get their instincts back."

Michael watched Bonnie as she watched the fish. Then he stuck his hand back into the livewell and one by one, returned all the fish to the lake.

* * *

Michael returned from his evening fishing expedition and tied the boat to the pier. Bonnie had been in a morose mood the rest of the day, so he had decided to go alone. He hadn't expected to catch much and he was right - it had rained all afternoon so the fish had eaten their fill - but he needed to get out of the cabin. Michael put his fishing gear away in the cabinets on the dock and then wandered back toward the house. He was about to go inside when he spotted Kitt and decided to spend some time with him instead. Kitt looked dark and mysterious parked next to the garage, the red of his skin barely visible in the pool of light in front of the garage door. Michael could almost get used to this low-light color red on his partner, if only it stayed this hue in broad daylight.

"Hello, Michael," Kitt said, his scanner popping to life, flowing like fire in the darkness.

"Hi, Kitt." Michael tried to decide if it would be okay to sit on his hood. It was a common occurrence in their former life, but now he didn't know how Kitt would feel about it. He took a chance and patted the hood. "Do you mind?"

"No. Go ahead."

Michael perched next to the windshield, and swung his legs up. The new car didn't have the homey feel of the old Trans Am. It had the same smooth texture, but it just wasn't as comfortable. The windshield's slope was too gradual, causing him to lie back awkwardly. While he normally tried to fight pointless nostalgia, he did miss Kitt's old black body.

"Are you bored here?" Michael asked, feeling guilty that there really wasn't anything for his partner to do. Former partner, he thought.

"No. I don't get bored, Michael. But I do have a, what would you call it, a lack of purpose perhaps."

Michael nodded. "I wish there was something more for you to do."

"Well, if you care to work on the Chevy, again, I'd be happy to lend you a diagnostic hand," Kitt volunteered.

Michael hadn't thought of the Chevy as a project that they could do together, but then, why not? Kitt certainly understood cars.

"I do still have a lot of refurbishing to do after its swim in the ocean." Over the last month, the Chevy had broken down several times. Michael was still finding water damage in places he hadn't expected.

"That certainly didn't do its systems any favors. My scans indicate that you're going to have to do some machining to replace all the damaged parts. I thought that perhaps, with my precision laser, I could help with that as well."

So he was bored, Michael thought. But he did seem to be trying to find things they could do together, and Michael appreciated it. If Kitt was looking for ways to spend time with him, then he didn't see their relationship ending just because Michael was no long with the Foundation and he had a new partner.

"That would be nice. I'd like to have a project to do together."

"It is different, Michael, but I do enjoy spending time with you, and Bonnie. Even if it means that I'll be spending a fair amount of time in the driveway."

Michael contemplated that. "Speaking of Bonnie, I was thinking it would be nice if we could convince her to move out this direction. I hate for her to be all the way out in Boston."

"I agree that it would be nice if she were closer."

"Willing to help me gang up on her and convince her of that?" Michael asked.

"It depends. What did you have in mind?"

"I was thinking we could find a list of jobs or something that she could do in the area."

"Why don't we try to convince her to come back to the Foundation?" Kitt asked.

Now why hadn't he thought of that, Michael wondered? But then, there were some complications. "And make her work for Mak? k? I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"You left me to work for Maddock."

Good point, Michael thought. And the Foundation was fairly close -- it was only a two hour drive to Seattle -- and Kitt would have an ally against Maddock. "Do you think there's any chance she'd do it?"

"She said she'd consider it when I asked her."

"You asked her? When?"

"On the drive out. I'd very much like for her to come back," Kitt said matter-of-factly.

"Me too." Michael was warming up to the idea more and more. "So how do we convince her?"

"I'm not sure Michael, but I think it will have to be handled delicately. It didn't seem like she was convinced when we discussed it."

"Okay. What do you say you and I make it our goal to convince her?"

"An excellent idea, Michael."

* * *

Bonnie took her mug of coffee and her laptop out to the picnic table. Michael had already left for his normal morning fishing trip. She idly wondered if he always went by himself or if there were ever actually people around for the 'charter.'

She swung a leg over the bench and was arranging her laptop when Kitt approached her.

"Good morning, Bonnie," he said.

"Good morning."

"I was wondering if you would be interested in going on that mountain drive that got postponed a few days ago."

Bonnie looked down at her laptop and hesitated. She had been hoping to get a little work done. Her boss had left her a voicemail asking her to make a few updates to one of her projects, and she didn't like leaving him in the lurch. She looked at Kitt again. She didn't like seeing him alone in the driveway all the time either. Work could probably wait for a few hours.

"Sure. That sounds like fun," she said, folding up her laptop again.

* * *

They were on a twisting, turning road that overlooked the lake. As it wound higher into the mountains, the lake seemed to be retreating, pulling away from them. The windows were down and Bonnie could smell the prickly odor of pine.

They were going much faster than the conditions of the road would suggest was possible. Kitt was obviously challenging himself by calculating just how fast he could shoot through the hairpin turns without his tires leaving the pavement."

"So do you like your new partner, Kitt?" Bonnie asked.

"It's hard to say. As I've mentioned before, she's very inexperienced. She's not what you would call a nice or warm person either. But maybe we're well matched that way."

"Why would you say that? You're warm and caring."

"I just mean that she compliments my more analytical side. I understand her because she's logical."

"You see something of yourself in her?"

"Yes. And it goes beyond that chip of mine in her head," Kitt said with a chuckle in his voice.

"Maybe that will work well for you," Bonnie said, fighting her natural discomfort with the idea of someone other than Michael being Kitt's partner.

"That is possible, but I have concerns about it. I've always thought that Michael and I were well suited to each other because his instincts and hunches balanced out my analytical approach and vice versa. The fact that we approached a case with different perspectives made both of us necessary. When he got so wrapped up in his hunches and instincts about people that he got away from the facts, I could bring him back. And when I got too focused on details and evidence that didn't add up, Michael could bring his understanding of human motivation into it and explain the inconsistencies. I feel that Shawn and I are missing that interaction."

"She might develop that over time."

"Perhaps, but its not the same. She isn't a people person like Michael."

"I'm sure its hard having a new partner, but I really hope it works out for you."

"I hope so too."

As they drove, they came to an overlook and Kitt pulled in. Bonnie got out and walked to the edge, stretching her legs and enjoying the sunshine for a few minutes. Off in the distance, she could see the lake and the cabin as tiny specs below.

"Bonnie, if you look to your left, there's a Red-tailed Hawk gliding on the thermals."

She followed his directions, and sure enough, there was a large bird, soaring gracefully, high above the treetops.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" she said.

"Yes. If you want to see it close up, you . . ."

Bonnie turned around, surprised when Kitt stopped mid-sentence. "Kitt?"

For a second, he didn't respond. Bonnie took a few steps toward him, just in time to see the blue sparks as they erupted from his dash.

"Kitt!!"

Bonnie ran over and pulled the door open. He seemed to be arcing through his dash near the passenger side.

"Kitt?"

When he didn't answer, Bonnie reached down and pulled the lever to pop the hood. She had no idea where main power was, but if he was arcing, she had to do something quickly. She ran around to the front of the car and looked for anything helpful, but nothing looked familiar, except for the little black box that was resting on a ledge, nestled behind the engine. Despite her better judgment, she reached in to pull the connections. She was glad none of them were hot - either electrically or thermally. It was a good sign for Kitt and saved her a nasty burn across her palm, or worse. Now that his CPU was safe, Bonnie focused on finding some way to kill power to whatever system was malfunctioning. The sparks had abated somewhat; but there was still an ominous crackling from somewhere in the depths of the car's electronics. She pulled power from the main battery, but she could still hear the errant electricity. Of course, that would have been too easy. The old body had had several auxiliary power units and she was sure this one was iffeifferent.

After hunting quickly, she spotted a red box. Pulling it open, Bonnie found a set of relays. She pulled the output to the box and everything went quiet. She took a deep breath and calmed down. Now that she had a minute to think without worrying about additional damage, she remembered that Kitt had been in the process of showing her the hawk. Perhaps something had happened when he accessed his video monitor. Bonnie hoped that Kitt still minded her admonishments and kept a toolbox in his trunk. He always had in the old days.

Bonnie popped the trunk and was relived to see a box filled with the basics. A screwdriver, soldering iron, pliers, and other tools were neatly laid out inside. Bonnie took the toolbox back to Kitt's passenger cabin and contemplated the charred dash in front of her. The scoring did seembe cbe confined to the area around the video monitor. She painstakingly removed it and wasn't surprised to find that the circuit board behind it was still hot to the touch and covered with melted and blown parts. Bonnie carefully pried it out of its rack and set it on the seat next to her.

She poked around until she was convinced that the other boards nearby hadn't been extensively damaged. Soot covered most of them, but other than that, she didn't see anything wrong. Bonnie wanted to be sure before she risked powering Kitt up again though. She wasn't familiar with his systems anymore and she was very concerned about his CPU. She contemplated the destroyed board on the seat next to her. Following the pattern of the burns back, it looked like the problem was with the connector. She examined the pins and realized two of them were bent together and shorting. That would be enough to cause quite a problem depending on what signals those pins carried. But why hadn't Kitt's self-diagnostics caught that weeks ago? No one had done any work on him. Bonnie tried to remember if she had seen Kitt use that video monitor. He had used the main screen when Maddock called, but she couldn't remember him using what she assumed was the backup. To have a problem like this was shoddy workmanship at best. She wtarttarting to wonder who they had working at the Foundation these days.

Bonnie finished putting everything band and nervously reapplied power. Nothing sparked and everything, except for the monitor, seemed to come back online. She wished she knew more about Kitt's new systems and how they interacted before reconnecting Kitt's CPU. Saying a quick prayer, she powered up the CPU and waited impatiently for Kitt to go back online.

"Kitt?"

There was a long pause. ". . . can view the hawk on my number two monitor."

"Kitt?"

"I'm sorry, it seems my number two monitor is out. Oh dear, how embarrassing."

"Kitt, that isn't the only thing. It went out with quite a bang. Are you okay? Do you have self-diagnostics that you can run?"

"Oh dear. It seems several of my boards are going to have to be run through a solvent bath."

"Kitt, the connector pins on your video card were bent. Did you pick that up on any of your self-diagnostics earlier?"

"No, Bonnie. But they haven't been completely refined for this vehicle yet. They're fairly rudimentary."

Bonnie shook her head. That would have been one of the first things she would have done. On a system as complex and delicate as Kitt, it was foolish not to. Again, she wondered who was working on him. "Don't worry, Kitt. I'll do what I can to get this cleaned up."

"Thank you, Bonnie. What would I do without you?"

* * *

Michael pushed open the slightly ajar garage door and smiled when he saw Kitt's hood up and Bonnie balanced under it. The overhead lamp in the garage cast an area of light around the car, and Bonnie had supplemented it with a bright yellow work lantern hung from the top of Kitt's hood. Michael laughed when he realized that she had made herself at home, having moved the Chevy and helped herself to his tools.

"What's going on?" he asked as he approached the two.

Bonnie popped her head around the hood. "Would you believe that Kitt had something of a fireworks display in his cabin today?"

Michael plastered a look of concern on his face. "Really. Is he okay?"

"Yes, its mostly cosmetic damage, but it gave me quite a scare. Did you know that his self-diagnostics can't even detect a short in his video systems?"

"Ahhh, over my head," Michael said.

Bonnie laughed. "He didn't know he had a problem and when he tried to access his number two video monitor, it blew sparks everywhere. If I had a schematic I could give you a more detailed explanation."

"That's okay. Really."

"Anyway, you're a little short on electronics tools here, but I think I've got most everything cleaned up. I borrowed a little turpentine."

"Among other things," Michael smirked.

"What did you expect me to do?" she asked, glaring at him.

"Nothing less," Michael smiled. "You look at home in there."

"Despite being in completely foreign terrain, it does feel good to be under the hood again," she said, retreating into her pool of lantern light.

Michael smiled to himself and decided to leave her to the repairs.

* * *

Kitt watched as Bonnie pulled open the patio door, her laptop case swinging at her side.

"Good morning," she said, waving him over.

"Good morning, Bonnie. I hope you got enough sleep after being up so late last night fixing my systems."

"I slept well, thank you and I've got a little idea. How about I work on updating your self-diagnostics a bit."

Uh-oh, he thought. "You don't need to do that. Why don't you just enjoy your time off?"

"I'd like to. It would be useful for you and it would give me something to do while Michael's off fishing."

Kitt wished Michael was here now, instead of out on the boat. He activated the comlink and sent him a message. He didn't know what to say to Bonnie. He didn't want to out and out lie to her, or at least not any more than he already had.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Of course. I used to do this stuff in my sleep and I have to admit I miss it. It'll be a fun little challenge. Do you have the code stored locally?"

Kitt toyed with the idea of lying and saying he didn't, but somehow, he didn't think she'd let it end there. He was starting to feel trapped. Maybe he should just lie anyway, but then he'd have more to answer to. "Yes."

"Good. Why don't you send it to my email and I'll get started on it," she said, smiling again. "It's terrible that you don't even have a way of knowing if your systems aren't operating correctly."

"Okay," he mumbled.

"This will be fun," she said, turning to leave.

Kitt watched her go and then slunk into the garage to wait for Michael to return.

* * *

"We have to tell her, Michael," Kitt said plaintively.

Michael shook his head. This was not going according to plan. "You're sure she'll figure it out?"

"Of course, Michael. It'll be obvious when she looks it over that the code as it's written would have caught the problem with my video monitor."

Michael didn't like this at all; she was going to be mad. He was trying to think of some way to phrase it that would make it sound noble, but nothing he tried in his mind sounded remotely reasonable.

"Okay, you're right. We need to tell her before she finds out for herself."

"Finds out what?" Bonnie asked coldly, as she appeared at the door.

Michael turned to face her and saw that she was standing with her arms crossed. She obviously already knew.

"Sorry," he said. "Kitt and I have a little confession to make."

"That you lied and intentionally created the sparks yesterday?" she filled in for him.

"Yeah. Sorry. Probably not our smartest move."

"I'd say not. I can't believe you intentionally damaged him," Bonnie said, setting her stance and staring Michael down. "Don't you have any regard for his safety anymore?"

Other than letting him be deactivated, Michael thought. "Of course I do. He suggested the video monitor himself."

"I hate to say it, Bonnie, but we were in on this one together," Kitt offered sheepishly.

"Why?" she asked glaring back and forth between the two of them.

"We just wanted to remind you how much you liked working on him. That's all. Can you blame us for wanting you to come back?"

"No. But what you did was manipulative at best. If you wanted me to come back why didn't you just ask?"

"Because we didn't think you would be willing," Kitt answered truthfully.

"So you thought trying to trick me would be better?"

Neither of them answered.

"I really think I need to go," Bonnie said, turning her back to them.

"Go where?" Michael asked.

"Back to Boston."

"Why? What do you have back there for you? A lonely house?" Michael called after her, trying to get her attention, not wanting her to walk out and leave.

She stopped and slowly turned around to face him again. "I may not have a picket fence and 2.5 kids, but at least I have family there. Look around, Michael. Neither one of us is the picture of 'well-adjusted,'" she said quietly - angry, but in a resigned, tired way. Then she turned and left the garage.

Michael didn't know what to say. He knew she was right. He hadn't been trying to hurt her but he was feeling more and more desperate not to lose her.

"That didn't go well," Kitt said.

"You're full of help," Michael said and sighed. "I'll go talk to her."

Michael followed Bonnie into the house but stopped in the kitchen to collect his thoughts, before venturing into the spare room. She had already pulled her bag out of the closet. It was lying open on the bed, spread apart and empty as she folded a blue sweater against her chest.

"I'm sorry for what I said. It's not that I think you don't have anything in Boston. It's just that I want you to stay."

"You have a funny way of showing it."

"I'm sorry. We definitely screwed up, but do you understand why we did it? We're family too. Kitt and I."

"I know that. And I do miss being with you both, but being out here like this, it's just not . . . healthy."

She picked up a pair of black pants and quickly folded them, slipping them inside the bag.

"Bonnie, I enjoy being with you. I don't want you to go."

She cocked her head slowly and paused, like she was waiting for more. Then she sighed. "Michael, this is like two people hiding out from the world and being lonely together. It doesn't solve anything."

Michael laughed humorlessly. "It's better than being lonely alone, isn't it?"

She set down the shirt she had picked up. Michael saw it as an opening. Even if they couldn't convince her to come back, he at least didn't want her to leave like this. He wanted to part on good terms this time. "Just stay the week, like we planned."

She paused, indecisively.

"We'll be on our best behavior. I promise."

"No more schemes?"

"No. Everything will be on the up and up."

She looked down at her bag again and Michael sensed that he had won. She didn't look angry anymore.

"Okay. But I'm really not staying beyond that, Michael. I can't."

"Alright." He approached her cautiously and wrapped her in a careful hug. "I'm sorry about what I said. I know you have a life," he said to her hair.