The Not So Lonesome Knight: Mistake at the Motel

Nightly Reports

When he had inspected the room to a satisfactory degree, Michael did as he said. He left to give Bonnie some privacy but not without making sure she had some of his clothes to change into. Incidentally, he had left her with his favorite shirt. No matter how many times it had been washed, his cologne seemed interwoven with the material. He can only imagine how strong it smelt coming out of his overnight bag. Michael had always been confident about the scent, until now, when the person he actually loved might be enveloped in it. What if Bonnie found it off-putting or repulsive? The car keys are jangled apprehensively in his hands as he makes his way back to Kitt. He had work to do. He can't dwell in the realms of his own petty and worrisome thoughts.

The upholstery of the driver's seat practically absorbs his aching muscles while he converses with Devon Miles and Rc3.

Exhaustion is evident in the bags forming underneath the patriarch's eyes. The stress, though it is not directly acknowledged, perches upon his pursed lips. "I am afraid that I'm not entirely comfortable with you and Bonnie staying at that motel when there has already been one break-in. Are you absolutely certain it was only your room that had been vandalized?" Devon questions, an air of skepticism sneaking into the undercurrent of his English accent.

"Yeah, Devon. You'd think, I'd notice if someone else's door was missing too." He doesn't mean to be snarky, it just happens. While he hadn't taken the time to look before, he certainly did now, if only to appease his own sense of curiosity. "I just checked again and they are all there. All but one. All but ours." He glumly reiterates.

Reginald peered up from the paper he had been reading, his eyes radiating the same sense of unease as Devon's. Although he does not say it, he is every bit as worried as Devon is.

"As much as I despise saying it, dear boy, it feels as though you've both been targeted." Devon prompts.

Michael nods in agreement. "Funny enough, I've gotten that feeling too." He glumly states.

"Did you get anywhere with the surveillance video?" Devon questions.

Kitt replies, "no. I'm afraid not, Mr. Miles. There is no footage covering the room. It would seem, their cameras are there solely for aesthetic purposes. They don't actually function. I did some digging while we've been talking and unfortunately, there is only one other camera in the vicinity." He hated having to burst the hope he had built up but he does it as promptly and delicately as possible. "Unfortunately, the resolution is useless. There is nothing on the film other than a series of indiscernible shadows." He can't disguise the disappointment in his voice not even through the use of the vocal modulators.

"There is one thing that keeps troublin' me. Why would they take Bonnie's clothes? You think they were lookin' for somethin' she has?" Michael asks.

Rc3 perches himself on the edge of Devon's desk. "Michael, my dude, you don't think they have an impostor Bonnie they might try to pass off on us. Do ya? That kinda stuff only happens in the movies." Cracking a large toothy grin, he adds, "maybe these guys wanna turn her into a robot? You'd have to admit, she'd make one fine version of RoboCop. Well, in her case, it would be Robo-Mechanic. It's pretty rad..."

He is met with two glares and had Kitt been capable, he might have shot one at Reginald too. "What?" Rc3 shrugs playfully. "Stranger things have happened."

Devon was not at all entertained by the conjectures from the newest addition to the staff. While he failed to find it comedic, part of what Rc3 suggested was not overly far-fetched. Could her clothes have been absconded with so that they could attempt to pass another off as Dr. Barstow? The thought is disconcerting, to say the least. But why? Squinting in thought, Devon remarks, "we'll bring out the Mobile Command Center in the morning. I have a feeling we will need all hands on deck with this one."

"Do me a favor? Huh? Bring Bonnie out some of her own clothes while you're at it. I know she is dying to be dressed more civilly and comfortably." Michael adds. He knows she will probably only tolerate his clothes until she had her own to return to and it saddens him a touch.

Rc3′s countenance warped with genuine concern. "How are we supposed to know what she wants from her closet?"

The poodle-permed agent shrugged. "I don't know. I usually grab the first things I can find. Just make sure it is tasteful. Okay?"

Before signing off Devon insists, "do me a favour, Michael. Try not to get in any more trouble before we arrive. It seems you've done enough poking of the hornet's nests for one night."

Michael laughs nervously. "What kind of trouble can I get into with Bonnie at this hour?" Maybe, he should have thought before he spoke those words aloud. They definitely sounded better when they were housed in his cranium.

Kitt was about to compile a list before he realized it had been a hypothetical question. Devon and Rc3 knew better than to offer up suggestions. Instead, they politely signed off.