#spacerat1

[bonnie-barstow-of-flag]

Michael and Bonnie

❝I don’t like the way they’re looking at you ❞

Dr. Barstow hadn't quite noticed the attention. At least, not until Michael made mention of it. From beneath halos of impossibly long lashes, her turquoise orbs shot up and peered in the direction Knight had indicated.

The brunette's muscles instantaneously bristle under the scrupulous and salacious leering glances that greet her. A sharp, astonished breath is inhaled into her lungs. What commentary she had attributed to Michael being overprotective and jealous was actually the gospel truth.

"You don't suppose they've seen that calendar?" Bonnie wistfully pries, feeling her cheeks taint fire-engine red with discomfiture. She'd been picking up whispers of it's existence all night. Even a photographer had stopped her on her ascent up the stairs, almost willing her to confess to being immortalized nude in front of her boss. The whole scene was incredibly mortifying, not to mention demeaning.

Bonnie was never one to flaunt her God-given graces. The fact that they are being ogled so eagerly now makes her press back into Michael's form, her heavily trembling hand unwittingly reaches for his. The truth was, she too didn't like the way they were watching her either. It was almost as if they anticipated an indecent showing. "Will you do me a favor?" She shakily entreats. "Don't leave my side---"

@spacerat1

[timeguardiansarchive]

@spacerat1 (Mel's Baywatch verse)

There's something eerily familiar about the man hanging about her guard tower. He's got the same piercing azure orbs, and wild curls as her boss. But it couldn't be him. No. This guy is-- younger, leaner. Right? Finally, after warring and deliberating for hours, Melody approaches him. "Hiya. You're not Mitch. Are you?"

[detectiverickitubbs]

@spacerat1​

“You have any evidence to support your theory that he’s the guilty one?”

[annastrxng]

@spacerat1​ (for Michael Knight - if you want it)

The timbre of his voice is unfamiliar and it causes the brunette to peer up at him quizzically. “Do you always go looking for trouble? Or does it just seem to find you?” 

[unyieldingvalxr]

Which Well Known Poem Are You? 

Do not go gentle into that good night by Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Tagged indirectly by Vegaprose

Tagging: @fallsekings @honorhearted @impulse-incorporated/ @templetonpeckcangetit @avictimofthejazz @spacerat1 @notsoinnocentlittleangel @sonnysideofthestreet​ @fluentineighties​

[bonnie-barstow-of-flag]

✵ from Michael

(I totally lost what this one was for- But you will be getting a random starter)

The brunette pauses, her fingers deliberately lingering over Kitt's sleek, recently shut hood. "You don't think he's in any real danger. Do you?" If any inquiry gave her anxiety, this one certainly did. Devon's been gone for AGES. "Maybe he just forgot to call?" It is an excuse not even she is buying.

@spacerat1 (Sorry it's been a really long time darling.)

[bonnie-barstow-of-flag]

10 Characters, 10 Fandoms

Thank you for the tag from the exceptional @caughtthefever

1. Bonnie Barstow (Knight Rider)

2. Anna Strong (Turn)

3. Diana Prince (Wonder Woman)

4. John Hannibal Smith (A-team)

5. Bruce Wayne (Batman)

6. Dominic Luca (Swat 1975)

7. Pete Malloy (Adam 12)

8. Mia Thermopolis (Princess Diaries)

9. Danny Reagan (Blue Bloods)

10. Sonny Crockett (Miami Vice)

Tagging with no pressure: EVERYONE @spacerat1 too

[bonnie-barstow-of-flag]

[bonnie-barstow-of-flag]

Knight of the Bedhogs and Home Snatchers:

 @spacerat1 continued: X

                         How this mattress is smaller than the one in the expanded cab of the semi, Bonnie would never understand. Especially, given the spatial parameters. Wistfully, the brunette considers that they would have been better off lodging in their mobile home instead of this questionable roadside hotel. But with the Semi being held for ransom and the Foundation’s grounds being at least six states away, this was their only available option. 

Crumbled bones struggle to hold the position Bonnie found herself in. Her squirming causing her to make direct contact with Michael. “Your side?” comes her simmering reply urged on by his own undercurrent of offense. “Your side happens to be ninety-percent of the bed.” Bonnie rumbles. In truth, she’s more annoyed that she’s falling half off the bed than she is about sharing.

Her cruel heart was echoing out hard soses with just how intimately close their bodies were to one another’s. It’s impossible to ignore suppressed feelings that she harbored when the cause was practically breathing down her neck. 

With a series of nudges, Bonnie tries to reclaim some semblance of space to avoid hitting the floor with a dull thud.                       

[bonnie-barstow-of-flag]

💰 My muse is being auctioned off at a charity event! Tell me how much your muse would pay for an evening with them

Not matter what the others would offer, Michael would make sure he is the highest bidder.

Even if he doesn‘t the money.

                      Charity auctions were always welcome events at the Foundation. Especially, when they were being held in order to sponsor kids at the local hospital. When she heard about the children, and the respective expensive surgeries, they required to keep living, Bonnie immediately threw herself into the fun. 

What she hadn’t anticipated was that she’d accrue so much interest. Several heated bidders quibbled; constantly trying to one up the other as the price raised incrementally higher. She thought little of it until a familiar timbre belts out an obscene number. No one in their right mind could be that charitable? Even her own lips give way to a gasp, mirroring that of the crowd. 

Michael?! Her eyes snap upwards, through the flood of lights on the stage until she can find his lanky form. Did he realize how much he just offered? For what? One dinner with her? Her cheeks burn, blistering a shade of red. Naturally, she was flattered by the sentiment, but she is also very concerned about her broke-as-ever coworker. 

When she is finally allowed to depart the stage, she hurriedly finds him. “Michael? What was that all about? Do you even have $19,000?” She worriedly presses. Her next concern was how they were going to collectively raise the money for the children’s sake. 

[bonnie-barstow-of-flag]

@spacerat1​ (gets a random starter for Michael) 

How many times would she have to answer the door only to be faced with nothing but air and a threatening notice? Most of the notes read her name, next to a hurriedly approaching death date, and a barely legible threat. What bothered her most about the threats wasn’t the linguistics or the choice of words, but rather that it was written in a chilling blood red.

She must catch whoever was doing this for her own sanity! Determination is set upon her countenance. Hurried footsteps carry her to the door and she flings it open as fast as humanly possible to find nothing. They’re already gone!!!

She rips twelfth note off of her door and lunges into the hallway so fast, she nearly bulldozes Michael down. 

“Michael?” The surprise reverberates in her tone as she is brought to a full stop. “Did... did you see anyone in the hall?” She presses fervently.  She turns to peer around him. Left and then right with no avail. 

[bonnie-barstow-of-flag]

@spacerat1​ (going to a Foundation affair) 

“Are you sure you have an outfit to match this? It just wouldn’t feel right to go as dates and not have some sense of cohesion....” 

[bonnie-barstow-of-flag]

@spacerat1​​ (After the Garthe Knight kiss - preplotted a hundred years ago)

Some nightmares just won’t evaporate with the first brushes of morning light. Garthe Knight was one of them. He was a fierce wraith that kept rising from the ashes like a phoenix. He couldn’t and wouldn’t stay dead, not even after taking a perilous dive from a cliff.

There’s not enough mouthwash in the world to liberate her mouth from the taste of Garthe’s cruel lips. They tasted the way vile venom might, like lightning coursing through brooding storm clouds.

She’d been the unwilling recipient of his overwhelming romantic overtures twice now. The gestures came with a promise of liberation for herself, a ticket to freedom from his wrath with the contingency that she becomes his wife. She could never concede on those terms.

Allowing a defiant snarl curving across her own lips Bonnie told him, in no uncertain terms, to ‘go to hell.” To Dr. Barstow some things were more important than her own life. Her loyalty and devotion to the Foundation, to Michael Knight, Devon Miles, and Kitt topped the charts. She loved Michael too much to ever betray him. There wasn’t any room left for Wilton’s wayward son to occupy in her heart.

Bonnie was fortunate Elizabeth had interceded. For all her despicable qualities, this interception of Garthe spared Bonnie further harm that she might have otherwise incurred. Whatever they were planning required his immediate attention.

Reminded of his work, he lobs her back into the cell she shared with his ‘inferior reproduction’.  

Dread hinges somewhere in the shadowy corners of her mind as Bonnie mauls over his vile promises regarding the consequences for failure to comply. Garthe warned her that he’d take what she wouldn’t freely give. Yet, even those spoken words are not enough to sway her to his side.

Bonnie crashes down, against the hard steel cot with the force of Garthe’s shove. The storm amplifies upon her countenance. Turning her terrified orbs towards Michael, she breathes, “we HAVE got to get out of here. The sooner the better. If we don’t....” She shutters forcefully. If they didn’t, Michael would die a long, torturous death and she’d be Garthe’s. She can’t finish that statement. It’s far too horrific. 

[bonnie-barstow-of-flag]

“What are your New Year‘s resolutions, Bon?“ Michael curiously asked her.

Turquoise orbs consider Michael thoughtfully as she places the calibrator back in its place on the work desk. The seemingly innocent question posed manages to catch her off guard.

A trace of humor warps her lips into a grin. "For starters, finding a new job." Of course, she's only teasing Michael on that front. She has no intention of leaving the Foundation again. Especially, after the disaster with Dr. Halston and nearly getting killed in the tunnels under the city. Sure, working with the Foundation for Law and Government could be a thankless job. Nevertheless, it was still the only job for her. Unable to contain the mirth or merriment in her tonality, she continues. “You know, I’ve always wanted to try something more stimulating, more exhilarating. The kind of job that gives you a real rush like driving for NASCAR.” Now, she’s really hamming it up purely for Knight’s enjoyment. She has eternally been the most cautious of drivers. It physically pains her to witness any vehicle, especially KITT being abused in such a feckless manner. 

Then, on a more serious note, Bonnie contemplates her most prevalent resolutions. "Well, I should start with finding a new apartment since my lease at Greenview Terrace is finally up." She is keenly aware of what Michael, Devon, and the others thought of the place given it’s proclivity towards attracting the strangest people in all of California. But goodbyes have never truly been her thing. The thought of moving again stresses her out. While the brunette is an intensely organized woman, the task of packing and unpacking was beyond tediously irksome. 

Then, drawing in a deep breath, Bonnie reflects further on her sharable resolutions. “I want to add at least ten technological updates to KITT this year. Maybe even increase his speed another five percent and ....” she can scantly withhold a smile, “possibly even allow for a camouflaging and or a hovering effect.” Blessedly hovering is not the same as flying or falling. His tire would only leave the pavement a few inches, if the effect could be achieved at all. That shouldn’t trigger Kitt’s fearful programming as badly. If worse came to worse, she could try and rewrite some of his most basic codes. She had an entire year to play with new technologies. 

Even if she accomplished nothing from this list, she wouldn’t be disappointed. Resolutions purely gave Bonnie something to work towards, a sense of purpose and direction. 

Quickly, she leans back to admire the scanner that she just worked on. Satisfied that it is functioning flawlessly, she turns her attention back to Michael. “What kinds of New Years resolutions did you make?” 

[bonnie-barstow-of-flag]

You can’t Save Everyone

@spacerat1 continued from X

A breath of hesitation is exhibited before Barstow caves, her hand slowly accepting his. Misery flattens her lips into something sullen and dour. She is sick to her stomach, worry clawing at every twisting inch of her intestines. 

Oh, Bonnie desperately abhors how savage her selfish desires feel. All she wants is for him to be safe. Watching him get shot on a simple security assignment, seeing him trapped in the twisted mangle of Kitt’s battered shell, and watching him go through his grief with Stevie--- Bonnie doesn’t think she can take another close call. Her whole heart shudders with an unstoppable flood of emotion. 

“I ---” She melts tiredly into his embrace. Her words and thoughts seem adrift, reaching for an unobtainable, distant shore. There are days when she wishes the lives of heroes were simple. Days where she and Michael could both turn a blind eye towards the suffering in the world, but that’s not the kind of people they are. They’ve been melded, molded for this considerable purpose. Denial could not make this any less their profession. 

She turns her face delicately into Knight’s chest. Rattled breaths escape in the form of a long-suffering, tattered sigh. “Then I guess we’d better go.” Of course, he hadn’t asked her to tag along. Dr. Barstow is implying that she will go regardless of whether he extends an invitation or not.

[bonnie-barstow-of-flag]

@spacerat1 (gets a random thing)

"I've been checking you out."