Meandering in Minefields

Chapter 3


Michael took his seat as Mary set the bowl of pasta down on the table with a flourish. Bonnie followed behind her, balancing the sauce in one hand and holding a bottle of red wine in the other. Michael glanced over at Zeke and smirked; Zeke had taken his napkin and tucked it into his collar like a child. When Mary spotted it, she groaned in exasperation, "I can't take you anywhere. Take that out of your collar and stop clowning. Bonnie was nice enough to make you dinner, now behave."

Zeke pulled the napkin out of his shirt but there wasn't a hint of remorse on his face. "She was kind enough to make me dinner and I'm kind enough to provide the entertainment."

"Oh honestly!" Mary said sitting next to him and apparently deciding not to push it any further.

Michael caught the devious twinkle as Zeke saw that his wife was no longer looking at him. Michael wondered how they managed to stay married when he antagonized her so much.

"Usually Michael's the entertainment," Bonnie said. "He might feel threatened if you take the spotlight from him."

"Now how did I get dragged into this? I was sitting here minding my own business," Michael protested.

"You invited him," Mary said, in her more subtle southern accent.

Michael picked up the first bowl and scooped pasta onto his plate before handing it to Mary. As the rest of bowls made the rounds, Zeke finally received the primavera and dragged the ladle through it slowly. "Mighty sneaky of you Bonnie, hiding the vegetables in the sauce like this. I think Mike here's going to have to actually eat'em."

Bonnie smirked as Michael feigned innocence. "Come on. I eat them from time to time."

"Yeah, when Mary hides'em in her sauce."

"What is this, pick on Michael night?"

Zeke laughed at the pun. "Now you know that's every night. Ain't nuthin' different about that."

"Eat your pasta, Zeke," Michael said, picking up his own fork.

Mary glanced up at Bonnie. "Kids," she said with a knowing grin. Bonnie smiled uncomfortably and Michael cringed. Mary had been at it with the matchmaker crap all night and he wished she'd just give it a rest. Especially after the argument he'd had with Bonnie the other day, he didn't want to do anything to give her another reason to leave.

Michael dug into his pasta and smiled. "Well, despite the insidious plan to trick me into eating veggies, its very goBonnBonnie."

She glanced up at him, obviously relieved. "Thanks. It was one of my mother's favorites."

"It is very good. And you know the way to a man's heart is through his stomach," Mary said smiling too brightly.

Michael had to work to stop the groan that was about to springboard over his lips. He saw Bonnie tense up and it looked like she was about to say something when Zeke jumped in. "And she complains about my behavior. Sorry, Bonnie, don't you pay her no mind."

Michael was surprised by his change of attitude. He had been full of winks when they'd run into him the first day at the cabin. But then Zeke was nothing if not observant. He probably realized that things were more complicated than they might seem. Michael was glad to see Bonnie relax a little bit. He was feeling guilty about getting her into this.


* * *

Bonnie cringed as another clatter rang out from the kitchen. "Michael, you're supposed to wash the dishes, not break them."

Michael appeared around the corner, with his hands full of soapsuds. "Ah, but breaking them is so much more fun." He grinned and vanished back into the kitchen, presumably to finish the dishes. Zeke and Mary had planned to go into Seattle in the morning so they had left early. Bonnie heard the water run and then stop. "You know, I'll just get these tomorrow," he called, before returning to the main room with the half empty second bottle of wine in hand.

Bonnas sas sitting on the couch with her legs crossed and her glass dangling from one hand perched on her knee. Michael carefully filled her glass and set the remainder of the wine on the table in front of her. He then flopped down on the couch and playfully bumped against her, causing the wine in her glass to rock precariously.

"You know, it's your couch that this is going to spill on," she said, leaning into him slightly.

"Not my fault you can't hold your liquor," Michael said, grinning.

She rolled her eyes. "Are you ever serious?"

"You know better than to ask that." Michael pulled away enough to face her. "But actually, I am going to be serious for a minute. I'm sorry about Mary."

Bonnie shrugged. "It's okay. I guess I would probably jump to the same conclusion if I were in her place."

"Yeah, but she tends to be outspoken about everything. Sorry if she made you uncomfortable."

"It's okay. I had a good time. They're nice people," she said. But there was something she was wondering about. "Did you explain to Zeke," she asked, not sure if she really wanted to hear the answer.

"No." Michael said resting back against the couch again. "I'm sure he figured it out for himself. Zeke plays the redneck thing for all it's worth, but he's actually very cunning about people. He's always paying attention to gestures and expressions, filing away everything he sees. It comes from the special ops training I guess."

Bonnie wondered what exactly Zeke had seen about her. The thought made her a little nervous. She studied the dark red liquid in the glass in front of her and tried to ignore the warmth of Michael's arm against hers.

"But I can talk to him if it bothers you," Michael said.

"No. That wasn't what I meant. I think it would have bothered me more if you had talked to him."

Michael looked at her oddly. "Why?"

That was more than she'd meant to say - the wine and having him so close were bad for her judgment. Bonnie tried to find the words to explain, but of course they wouldn't come. She tried to think of an excuse, something that would mask what she had been feeling. But then, they had done that so many times - come to a possible turning point in their relationship and then deliberately turned back. Maybe it was time to go forward for a change. She contemplated his soulful blue eyes and impulsively decided that it would be easier to show him than tell him. Bonnie leaned in tentatively, and kissed him. She was surprised and relieved when he returned the kiss and put his hand on her neck. It was a friendly kiss, careful and curious, but still holding so much hidden longing.

After a moment Michael pulled back and looked down at her, his eyes filled with confusion. It mirrored the apprehension she was feeling. She wanted to be with him, but there was just so much that was standing in the way. She was overwhelmed with how quickly things went from being so simple and pure to being so complicated.

Bonnie dodged his eyes, staring at the beige of the couch instead. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that," she said and stood. "I'm sorry." She turned and retreated into the kitchen.

Michael listened to the water in the sink for a moment before following her. He was not at all prepared for her to kiss him, but he didn't want her apologizing for it. He just never would have thought.

She had already dunked the rest of the plates and silverware into the sink and was refilling it with hot water. He gingerly put a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to apologize. I just wasn't expecting that. At all really. But it was nice. Very nice," he said awkwardly. "I'm just surprised that after everything, you'd be at all interested in a relationship like that."

"I . . . just." She turned, leaning against the counter and stared up to the ceiling. "I've just had this stupid notion in my head for a long time."

"To kiss me?" he asked, surprised.

"No," she said, a bit flustered. "Well, yes. But not exactly. I've had this stupid notion of us. Of us somehow getting together."

"In a relationship?" Michael asked, trying to clarify.

"Michael, I've had a lot of time alone to think. I've spent a lot of that time trying to figure out my life and what I want from it. I've dated a few people over the years, but none hosehose relationships ever seemed quite right. At some point I think I just realized that what I was looking for was you."

Michael was still trying to catch up. A part of him had always thought that she was running from him as much as Devon. He had been afraid that even friendship would be asking too much from her. "Then why didn't you ever try to get in touch?"

"I don't know. I thought that it wouldn't be fair. That it would be way too complicated." She looked at him directly again. "There's just so much baggage that I figured it was best to just leave it be."

"And what, stay in Boston holding a candle?"

"No. I guess I just thought that if we ever met again, fine, but if not, it was probably for the best." She sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put this on you. I . . . It was just stupid. I'm sorry."

"No. It's not stupid. Not at all." Michael said, trying to figure out how to put into words what he was feeling. "I guess I wasn't even letting myself hope that you would be interested in something like this. I was still operating under the assumption that you didn't really want to see me. I guess Kitt isn't the only one who felt a little bit abandoned."

Her brow furrowed as she pieced together what he was saying. "You thought I left because of you?"

"Oh, I knew it was mostlyon, on, but I figured I was part of it too."

She slowly took a step closer. "No. It was very hard leaving you, Michael. Even though things were so complicated, I still needed you. You were the only one I could talk to about everything. But everything was just so overwhelming. I needed some time away."

"To be honest, I think that's part of the reason I didn't look you up either. I probably needed that time too."

She nodded. "I'm sorry. This a big mine field and I shouldn't have started traipsing through it."

She turned back to the dishes, pulling them out of the soapy sink and rinsing them in the clear water from the tap. Michael studied her, his head spinning. He knew he needed her. As soon as she had agreed to travel with them back to Washington, he had felt like he was home -- like maybe things would start to make sense again. Apparently, she wasn't the only one holding a candle.

He took a step toward her and cautiously wrapped an arm around her waist, coaxing her to turn around again. "I happen to be pretty good at navigating minefields, actually. Lots of practice."

She looked up at him and he took the opportunity to lean down and kiss her, softly at first, more like a gentle caress. He slid one hand up along her neck and then through her hair as she wrapped both arms around his waist. The kiss deepened and Bonnie was caught off guard by the intensity of her reaction. She pulled him closer, wanting to feel as much of him as possible. She freed a corner of his shirt, slipped her hand under the soft material, and drew long arcs on his smooth back. Michael broke the kiss, then tipped her head to the side and traced the line of her jaw and neck with slow kisses. When he returned to her mouth, he was more insistent, more passionate. Her hands roamed under his shirt, exploring his lean, muscular stomach and chest. She closed her eyes and savored the intensity of their kisses, the feel of his skin, the warmth of his mouth. It all swirled around her head in an intoxicating mixture.

Michael was weaving his fingers through her hair, combing all the way to the ends as he kissed her. She slid her hands down over his jeans to cup and knead his ass through the rough material. He sighed and stopped, his hands resting just behind her temples as he pulled back to look her directly in the eyes.

"If at any time you start to feel uncomfortable, say something. We can stop this at any point," he said, seriously.

She nodded before finding her voice, "I will."

He studied her for a moment, his eyes driving home his sincerity. Then he quickly pecked her lips once more and took her hand, leading her up to his room in the loft.

They stole a few kisses along the stairway railing before they reached the top. Then Michael pulled her close, his fingers still laced in hers and kissed the back of her hand. Bonnie watched him as he touched his thumb to her chin and slowly stroked down her neck, to the middle of her chest. He paused, waiting there like he was giving her time to object before he gently cupped her breast and stroked his thumb across her nipple. Even through her cotton shirt and bra it sent shivers down her body. She knew she wanted him, but there was a little anxiety in the mix, a bit of edge to the anticipation.

Bonnie lifted Michael's shirt and he helped her get it over his head. She admired his chest and arms beforeningning her hands slowly down his torso, teasing his nipples. She was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath and an inward ripple of his stomach muscles.

Michael carefully unbuttoned her shirt and slid it off her shoulders. He lifted the strap of her black lace bra and ran one finger under it, slowly trailing over her shoulder and down her back before undoing the clasp.

"You are so beautiful," Michael murmured as the bra fell away. He put a hand on her hip and guided her back toward the bed. He reached down to pull away the comforter and lowered them both onto the sheets.

Michael propped himself up on his side and leaned over her, kissing the sensitive skin around her collarbone. He worked his way down to the swell of her breasts and kissed one while stroking the other with his free hand. She moaned softly when his tongue flicked back and forth across her nipple. Michael shifted to continue kissing down her stomach. He flicked little circles around her navel with his tongue and slid a hand along the edge of her jeans. But then he stopped and returned to kissing her lips, insistently, passionately. Bonnie got the sense that he was waiting for her to set the pace. She found that touching and erotic at the same time.

She rolled toward him and smoothly guided him onto his back, letting her breasts brush his chest. She undid the buckle on his belt and lowered the zipper on his jeans. He lifted his hips so that she could pull the jeans down and remove them. Bonnie admired the impressive swell of his erection, pushing against his underwear.

"I would have worn something nicer if I had known," he said, indicating the plain white briefs.

"That's okay, next time," Bonnie said beguilingly.

She combed her hand though his chest hair and around his nipples before reaching down and stroking his constrained shaft. Michael shuddered slightly and closed his eyes again. She carefully pulled back the waistband and removed the last article of his clothing. She took Michael's cock in her hand, feeling the smooth, firm skin, and stroked slowly. Michael took in a quick breath and let it out as a low moan. Turned on by his response, Bonnie leaned down, and starting at the base, ran her tongue up his shaft. When she reached the head she engulfed him in her mouth and took him in as far as she could.

Michael groaned and arched his back as his fist opened and closed at his side. She licked his head, getting just a hint of the salty taste. Michael's breathing had gotten shallower. Bonnie paused when she glanced at him and found him staring back, his eyes painted with desire. "I want to be inside you," he said, his voice low and gravelly.

Hearing him say it out loud brought Bonnie a rush of emotions, desire and longing were washing over her and drowning everything else out. The anxiety she had felt earlier was gone. She trusted Michael implicitly. hinkhink that can be arranged," she said, her voice breathy and low.

It was Michael's turn to unbutton her jeans. His hands slid along the curve of her hips and hooked her panties, sliding them off as well. He slid his hand back up, along her leg, caressing her inner thigh and slowly, deliberately teasing her as he spiraled inward and upward. Bonnie moaned in frustration as he came close to touching her but circled away at the last minute.

"Please," she said, the anticipation filling her.

"Since you asked politely," he said with grin. He rolled to be on top of her, bracing his upper body above her on his elbows. She felt the weight of his hips and the bulge of his cock against her lower body. Michael kissed her and then stroked her cheek, looking her directly in the eye. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes. I want you."

"I'm very glad the feeling is mutual," he said, looking her over.

Bonnie closed her eyes and felt the swell of pleasure as he slid inside her, filling her. He kissed her lips and neck as he pressed slowly in and out. The heat between them was overwhelming and she clung to him, her arms around his lower back. He moved one hand to pinch and stroke her nipple, causing tremors that were pushing her toward the edge. He kept up the slow, steady rhythm as she arched and moaned underneath him. She was losing herself in the haze of sensations. She tightened her grip on him feeling the climax coming. "Oh, Michael," she cried out before taking in a sharp breath and holding it as everything inside her released, sending tingling waves through every nerve of her body.

Bonnie took several minutes to catch her breath. Michael kept up the slow, steady rhythm while she recovered. Then he began to move quicker, with more urgency, his body shaking slightly. He was thrusting deeper and faster. She moaned again at the overwhelming heat between their bodies. He responded to her by leaning forward and desperately trying to kiss her, his mouth warm and wet. He pressed down hard on her lips, not moving his, just keeping the contact between them in a wide, open kiss. He made one last thrust and held himself deep inside her. He let out a primal groan of release into her mouth before collapsing against her, raining little kisses on her lips and face.

"That was wonderful," he said, panting.

"Yes, it was," she said, reveling in the closeness of his body.

As they both caught their breath, Bonnie nuzzled into Michael's neck, overwhelmed with the need to keep him close. His skin was warm from the exertion and she felt like her own skin was melding with his. It seemed appropriate and long over due - her heart had melded with his a long time ago.

* * *

The first thing Bonnie noticed was the light through the bedroom window turning the insides of her eyelids red and waking her up. The covers were making it a little warmer than comfortable so she threw off the quilt and rolled over. She opened her eyes when she realized that Michael wasn't within her reach. A sick feeling crept into her stomach when she saw that he wasn't in bed with her.

According to the alarm clock, it was 6:30 -- earlier than Michael normally got up. She listened to the aching silence of the house before rolling out of bed and returning to the spare room. She found a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt in her bag and put them on before going to look for him.

The kitchen was still a mess from the night before with stacks of pans still sitting on the counter. Bonnie peered out the window above the sink and saw that Kitt wasn't in his usual parking place. She folded her arms across her chest and went to sit at the table, worried about why Michael would have left. She was afraid it was the obvious reason.

* * *

Michael tried to keep quiet as he slunk into the kitchen. He set his packages down on the counter before he saw Bonnie stan qui quietly at the window.

"Good morning. You aren't supposed to be up yet," he said, playfully.

She stared back at him, blankly. Something wasn't right, he though.

"Where did you go?" she asked tentatively.

"We're short on coffee I went out to get some."

She looked back out the window.

"What's wrong?"

She shrugged. "I thought maybe you left because you regretted last night."

Now where did that come from? Michael wondered. He went to her and pulled her e, ke, kissing her gently. "No, not at all. Last night was wonderful."

She glanced back out the window, not looking entirely convinced. He wanted very badly to tell her he loved her. He had told her that a handful of times over the course of their friendship, but this was different. He was afraid that if he told her now, she would just think he was trying to pacify her. "No regrets. I promise." Michael glanced over his shoulder toward the packages in the kitchen. "In fact, stay right here . . . "

Michael grabbed the larger of the two packages on the counter. "Coffee was one of the reasons I went out this morning. The other was that I wanted to get you these." She caught site of the vase at the bottom as he handed her his gift and her face broke into a bemused smile.

Bonnie carefully pulled away the wrapper, revealing the brightest bouquet of flowers that the store had been able to put together at the last minute. "They're beautiful. Thank you," she said, setting them on the table and kissing him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be paranoid, but I woke up and you were gone. I don't know why I thought the worst."

"I was planning to be back before you woke up, but obviously that didn't work. I was looking forward to putting these on the night stand and snuggling with you," he said, relieved that she was smiling again.

"You can snuggle with me now," she said playfully.

He leaned down to kiss her again. "That sounds wonde."
."

* * *

"Where are we going?" Bonnie asked for the umpteenth time. They had napped lazily together all morning, making love once more before Michael had insisted that they actually get up and do something.

"What do you have against surprises?" Michael asked, exasperated.

"I just prefer to know where you're taking me. Kitt?"

"I'm afraid even I don't know this time, Bonnie. He's driving. We're almost to Portland though, so that would be a safe bet."

"If you'd have put money on that, you would've lost, Kitt," Michael said with a grin.

"We've already passed Mount Saint Helens," Kitt added.

"Nope, we aren't going to there. At least not right now."

"But Michael, the only other thing on this road is . . ." Kitt paused. "Oh, Michael. Why?"

He laughed. "Because you guys were mean to me on the way out and wouldn't let me stop."

"What?" Bonnie asked before the light dawned. "Oh, don't tell me, a fish hatchery."

"Nope. Totally different."

"Fish ladders," Kitt filled in. "On the Columbia River."

Bonnie looked at Michael out of the corner of her eye. "This is why I don't like surprises."

Michael grinned. "Oh come on. It's a beautiful area and you never know, you might like it."

"Remind me that you're trouble the next you get a bright idea."

Michael smirked.

After driving several more miles, they turned off the highway and pulled into the parking lot that appeared from out of the thick forest. Bonnie gave him a look as they got out of the car and shook her head. "Why am I doing this?"

"Because if you behave, there's a candlelight dinner at an intimate little restaurant overlooking the river in it for you," he said, pulling her closer and quickly brushing her lips with his.

Michael took Bonnie's hand and led her around the side of the building, catching her questioning look as he avoided the main entrance to the visitor center. "The ladders themselves are out here. We can go inside later."

"It better be a very nice restaurant," Bonnie said.

"Not to worry, you'll like it."

"Okay, in all seriousness then, why are we here?"

Michael pulled her over to the set of stairs that descended along side of a waterfall flowing over broad concrete steps. "The Columbia River has always been a major artery for salmon to get to and from their spawning grounds. When the Bonneville Dam was built, it cut off the route inland so they built a set of ladders for the fish."

As they watched, a few fish hurled themselves from one step to the next higher one. Bonnie wandered closer to see the dark shapes hovering under the surface in each of the pools.

"The salmon are used to swimming up stream, jumping waterfalls, logs, and other obstructions to get back to their birthplaces. They have some inborn instinct to find their way home. Even though it's been years since they've been there and some of them have traveled hundreds of miles, they somehow know how to get back. So the engineers put in the ladders, to give the fish a way home."

Bonnie watched the fish jumping from pool to pool.

"I just thought, that after our conversation about fish earlier in the week, you might like to see how truly resilient they can be," Michael said, moving behind her and resting his hands on her shoulders.

"Okay, I get the point," she said softly, reaching up to squeeze his right hand. After a sizable silence she added, "So where's my candlelight dinner?"

Michael laughed. "Oh no. You have to go inside too. There's tons of valuable information about salmon. It would be a shame to come here and not partake."

"But you don't fish for salmon."

"No. But that doesn't mean we can't learn about them." He turned her around and hugged her briefly.

"I'm going to know a lot more about fish than I ever wanted to, aren't I?"

Michael smiled. "If I get my way, yes," he said, leading her into the visitor's building.

"So should I read anything into the fact that the only reason the salmon go home is to reproduce?" Bonnie asked wickedly.

"Only if you want to. Only if you want to," Michael said with a grin.

* * *

The piece of metal pipe clattered to the ground and Kitt's laser simultaneously shut off. "That should be the right length to replace your rusting exhaust pipe."

Michael picked it up and examined the cut -- almost perfectly clean. "Thanks, Kitt."

Bonnie had insisted that she get at least some work done today, so Michael was out in the garage with Kitt and the Chevy. Kitt had already cataloged and prioritized everything wrong with the car, which was a little too organized for Michael's tastes. He mostly picked at the Chevy, but if Kitt was going to be involved, he suspected that things were going to get a lot more organized before they got haphazard again. And that wasn't entirely a bad thing. It reminded them of how they used to compliment each other.

"I would remove the existing one for you, but I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to get the right angle without the Chevy being on a lift."

"No problem, that's why I have a torch," Michael said glibly as he flipped down his face visor and lit the acetylene torch. The blue flame burned viciously at the tip. Michael carefully positioned himself to roll the dolly under the car and began to remove the exhaust pipe.

"So," Kitt said. "What were the flowers for yesterday?"

Under the cover of the visor, Michael smirked. "Peeking, huh?"

"Michael the vase was clearly visible. And there was that candlelight dinner too. I'm just curious."

"Uh-huh."

There was a long pause. "Michael? Are you going to tell me?"

"Only because you won't let it drop. The flowers were for Bonnie."

"I gathered that much myself. And?"

"Has anyone told you recently that you're nosy?"

"Not since July 19, 1988. And that was you."

Michael slid out from under the Chevy. "I guess you could say that there's maybe the beginning of a relationship."

"Michael, that's wonderful. It's about time too."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh please, you and Bonnie should have been dating a couple of decades ago."

"If you say so," he said, smiling as he resumed his work.

The blue flame turned the metal red-hot and eventually the rusting pipe clattered to the ground and Michael rolled back out again. He approached Kitt to pick up the replacement.

"Michael?"

"Yes?"

"I hesitate to bring this up again. But I thought you'd like to know that I've come to a realization of sorts. I can live with you not coming back to the Foundation if you promise not to lose touch. can cannot sequester yourself out here and pretend I don't exist."

Michael set the pipe down and leaned against Kitt's hood, looking through the windshield. He had been wondering when Kitt was going to finish that particular conversation. "I'm sorry I disappeared after Seattle. I thought I was doing you a favor by getting out of your way - letting you and Shawn figure things out for yourselves. I was wrong."

"How could you think that?"

"I don't know. It just seemed like you should have some time to adjust to things without my interference."

"Michael, having a sounding board and someone who understands your point of view is not interference."

"I know. I'm sorry. It won't happen again. I promise to call or write or stop by. Whatever."

"I hate to invite myself, but perhaps I should be the one to stop by."

"Of course, Kitt. Any time. You can come here every night if you want. Whenever you have time, I'd love for you to be here."

"Thank you, Michael. If I am going to try to be the new moral core of the Foundation, I'm going to need guidance."

Michael laughed. "I think Devon's rolling over right about now at the thought that I would be the guiding light to the Foundation's moral core."

"Good point. Perhaps I should handle that on my own."

Michael rapped the hood in protest. "In all seriousness, you are always welcomed here. And I'll do my best to help you. You've got a big task ahead of you."

"Don't remind me."

"It's good to have you back, buddy," Michael said, finally feeling comfortable enough to use his old nickname for his friend.

"You too, Michael."

* * *

Bonnie woke up late. Not that there was any particular timetable, but she knew that Michael had probably already been up a few hours, although he had slipped out without waking her. She threw on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt and headed downstairs for some coffee. She wandered through the kitchen and stopped short when she saw Michael out in the lake up to the tops of his waders and Kitt, a bit closer to shore, up to the bottom of his undercarriage. What the hell were they doing, she wondered? She poured herself a mug of coffee and ventured out onto the patio, barefoot. The grass between the house and shore was warm and soft -- she'd slept long enough that the dew had been dried by the sun.

Michael turned and noticed her approaching. He took a few steps back toward shore and leaned in a bit, like he was saying something to Kitt. Why were those two always up to something?

"Morning, Bonnie," Michael said, the snicker barely hidden in his voice.

"What are you two doing?"

"Fishi Mic Michael responded.

Bonnie rolled her eyes, exasperated. "I can see that you're fishing, Michael, but why is Kitt tire-deep in water? You know that's not good for his systems."

"I'm not in the water, Bonnie. The undercarriage is MBS coated and it certainly won't hurt my tires. It's perfectly safe. I just wanted to try fishing."

She looked down at him at a loss before she noticed the small wake headed toward him. Amazed, she watched as a rope spiraled through the water and stopped just at his nose. The grappling hook retracted into the stow position with a short length of fishing line attached to one of the four arms. At the end of the line, a florescent, hook-adorned lure dangled in the wat


"I'm starting to see the appeal," Kitt said. There was a sudden whoosh of air as his grappling hook deployed again, streaking out over the lake. The lure glittered in the sun, before it splashed into the water, and Kitt began to reel it in again.

"You're both insane," Bonnie said, as Michael chuckled.

"Perhaps, but I caught an 18 pounder," Kitt said, clearly pleased with himself.

Bonnie shook her head. "I am not replacing his winch when it rusts out."

"But I'm having fun," Kitt said simply.

Bonnie turned on Michael. "If you weren't hip deep in water, you'd be in trouble. You are the worst influence on him. Always have been."

"Dirty job, but someone's gotta do it. If it were up to you, he'd never have any fun."

Bonnie sighed deeply and turned to leave. "I'm going to go drink my coffee while I plot your demise."

"You know you love me," Michael called after her, unable to suppress his grin when he heard her sharp, hiHmmpHmmph.'"

* * *

Kitt watched as Bonnie approached him from the house later that afternoon. She was wearing hiking boots and carrying her backpack.

"Feel like going for a walk, Kitt?"

"A walk?" he asked, confused.

"I was thinking of taking the dirt road around the back of the property. Feel like following along with me?"

"Sure," Kitt said. He had gone fishing with Michael -- a walk wasn't any more absurd. He set his speed to match her as she walked along the dway way and out onto the dirt road. Bonnie picked up a large stick and was planting it with each step.

"So things seemed to have smoothed out between you and Michael," she said.

"Yes, I think so," Kitt replied. "We came to an understanding, I think. Or maybe I came to an understanding."

"What do you mean?"

"I realized that I can't make him do the things I want him to do. That I'm just going to have to accept his decisions. He's still the same person I care about, even if we aren't partners anymore."

Bonnie nodded.

"And I decided it was hurting me more to hold it against him."

Bonnie stopped and studied Kitt before continuing on with him.

"I still want him back, but it's worse not to have him at all, than it is to have a friendship with him. I could stay angry, but that isn't going to change his mind and it makes me unhappy."

Kitt was surprised when Bonnie's face clouded over. She stared down at the path in front of her and then off into the woods. "You think that's the wrong choice?" he asked uncertainly.

She looked up sharply and shook her head, "No, I don't. It's not that, I was just thinking about something else. Sorry. I think it's a very mature attitude, Kitt. It's just a hard thing to do sometimes," she said softly.

"I'm not completely happy with it, but I am happier than I was when I ang angry about it."

Bonnie laughed somewhat sadly.

They went a few more paces. "So things seemed to have smoothed out between you and Michael as well," Kitt said slyly.

Bonnie laughed and shook her head, the tension apparently broken. "You shouldn't be eavesdropping."

"I do not eavesdrop!"

She looked at him with her eyebrows arched. "How else would you know?"

"It was hard to miss the flowers he brought you and then I asked him."

"Ah," she said, not looking convinced.

"I don't eavesdrop!" he said indignantly.

"Okay, okay," she laughed. "I believe you."

"Sooo," he said.

"So. I don't know," she laughed.

"But you're dating?"

"Kitt, I guess, I think. We haven't actually talked about that, exactly."

Kitt couldn't help but notice how much she was beaming. "I'm happy for you both."

"Thank you."

They walked along a few more paces before Kitt continued. "So I assume that means that you'll be staying here?"

Bonnie's face fell. "Kitt, I don't know," she said seriously.

"What do you mean? If you and Michael are together, why wouldn't you stay here?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure. It's complicated."

Kitt was very tired of that word. Things could not be as complicated as everyone kept trying to make them. "Why wouldn't you stay?" he asked sadly.

"I don't know that I'm not. It just hasn't been figured out yet. Maybe we'll do a long distance thing for a while. I don't know."

Illogical people. Just when things started to make sense, they didn't. Kitt wished he had a head to shake.

Bonnie stopped. "Look, you just got done saying that you had accepted that Michael wasn't coming back to the Foundation."

That was hardly fair, he thought. "I also explained that I was angry and upset about it."

"Kitt," Bonnie ran her hand through her hair. "I'm trying. I really am. You just have to give me time to figure all of this out. The last few weeks have been a bit crazy. Okay?"

"Okay," he said, disappointed. "I can't speak for Michael, but I would like you to stay."

"Tmeanmeans a lot to me, Kitt."

Kitt just hoped it meant enough.

* * *

Michael was sitting at the picnic table with a beer watching the sunset.

"Hello beautiful," he said as Bonnie joined him.

"Hi," she said, sitting next to him and leaning into his side. He took the hint and put his arm around her.

It was a while before she spoke. "What are we doing?"

"Watching the sunset."

"You know what I mean."

Yes, he did, but he was afraid to bring it up. He knew what he wanted, but he wasn't sure what she was thinking. "I'm not sure."

She sighed against him.

"Bon, I'm not going to lie to you and say I don't want you here. I do want you here, very much. But I also don't want you to think this was all another scheme to convince you to stay. I wouldn't do that, I swear it's the last thing I would do."

"I know."

"So, if you're more comfortable spending some time apart first, I'm okay with that. I can come visit you in Boston and we can make it work somehow," he said, knowing it wasn't what was in his heart. He wanted so badly for her to say that she was staying, but he also wanted her to make that decision for herself.

"I need some time to think, Michael. All of this is happening too fast."

"Okay. Take your time," he said, leaning down to kiss the top of her head and silently willing her to make the right choice. "If you decide you want to stay, you're welcomed here, or if you want we can find you something in the area."

She turned her head upward to look at him. "Thank you," she said and kissed him delicately.

"What do you say we put a fire in the fireplace?" he suggested. "It's going to be cold tonight."

"Sounds wonderful," she said, "Who knew you were such a romantic?"

He grinned. "Don't tell anyone. It'd hate for word to get out. It'd ruin my reputation."

* * *

Michael found Bonnie sitting at the picnic table the next morning. It took him a minute to realize that the piece of paper in her hand was the letter from Devon. She looked up as he approached and self-consciously folded it, tucking it into her pocket, out of sight. "Hi," she said.

"I was thinking that we could go sightseeing at Mt. Rainier tomorrow," Michael said, ignoring the letter.

Bonnie looked at him apologetically. "Actually, I had something else in mind."

"I'm all ears."

She closed her eyes and sighed. "I know my timing is horrible and it's way out of the way. I should have decided this much earlier. I changed my mind."

Michael reigned in his confusion. "About?"

She looked like she felt guilty even asking.

"What?"

"I would like to visit Devon's grave."

That was not what Michael had been expecting -- at all. "Really?"

She nodded.

"Okay. That's fine. We have to leave tomorrow if you're going to get back here in time to make your flight to Boston, but sure. That isn't a problem."

"That was a lot easier than I expected," she said, taking his hand. "I'm sorry its hundreds of miles out of the way."

"That's okay. The drive down the coast is really pretty. It'll be nice." Michael took a breath. "But can I ask why you changed your mind?"

"I don't know, honestly. I guess it was something that Kitt said. Don't get me wrong. I'm still angry with him and it still hurts, but I feel like I should go. I can't really explain it."

"Fair enough," Michael said, just pleased to hear that there might be a crack in that particular shell.

* * *

Bonnie paused as she threw a shirt into her overnight bad and zipped it up, trying to move just a little bit faster. Michael was already outside with Kitt, waiting. It was really going to be a quick trip down to Los Angeles.

She looked around the little guest room and spotted her itinerary sitting on the dresser. She idly picked it up and snapped the folded paper back and forth a few times against the heel of her hand. She was glad Michael understood and was willing to go to Los Angeles. She still felt bad about making them go hundreds miles out of their way. But then it was Michael and Kitt; they were certainly used to road trips. It just would have been more convenient if she had decided she was ready to visit Devon's grave before they got to Washington. And barring that, she should have at least decided earlier so that they weren't racing up and down the coast in time to get her back to Boston.

Bonnie was startled when Michael or Kitt honked the horn. She smiled at their impatience and idly unfolded the itinerary. Snew new all the pertinent details - when she was leaving, her flight number, the time -- but it just didn't feel right. She studied it carefully for a moment, taken in by the black letters that formed the words. Without it, a lot of things would be simpler. Maybe it was time she broke the bad habit she had of making her life more complicated than she wanted it to be.

After taking in a deep breath, she slowly tore the itinerary into four pieces and left them neatly on the top of the dresser. It was symbolic only - she'd still have to change her ticket and work out the details - but it felt good anyway. It felt right.

She grabbed her bag and headed for the door as the horn sounded again to hurry her along.

Kitt watched, amused, as Bonnie stepped outside the cabin and perched her hands on her hips. "Honking is not going to make me move any faster, guys," she said with a smile. Something about it struck Kitt as very genuine and bright -- it went beyond her usual amusement with Michael's games. He analyzed her features and decided that there must be something that she was very happy about. He scanned the house and detected the scraps of paper on the dresser. When he realized it was her travel iraryrary, he felt his own genuine smile spreading through his CPU.

Bonnie opened the passenger door and got in.

"Welcome back," Kitt said as he closed the door for her, elated that they were all finally home.

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knightshade
January 2003
dknightshade@earthlink.net