"I can’t believe that Walter is still working. Should he be staying up so late at night, Michael?" Nikita asked, worry creeping into her voice.

Michael sighed. "There’s no stopping him, Kita. He told me he is determined to finish the second cradle before you deliver."

"But that’s still five months away, Michael." She patted her protruding abdomen proudly. "He has plenty of time."

"Maybe, maybe not. Neil seems to think that you’ll deliver early. Most women with twins do." Michael rubbed his hands over her abdomen softly. She kissed him.

"You still think I’m beautiful? Now that I’m filling out? Pretty soon, I’ll be walking like a duck. How beautiful will that be?" she asked, knowing she was begging for compliments. But Michael never failed to rise to the challenge. He always found a new way to make her feel loved and cherished.

"Now you’re just being greedy, Kita. You know how much I love seeing you strut around here, showing off our children- to-be." He stroked her hair with his fingertips. "My little mother," he said almost reverently, as if he knew this was the highest compliment he could possibly give her.

"Not so little anymore," she whispered back, fretting about how much bigger she was likely to get. "Then there’s so much more of you to love, doucette." He kissed her again, his lips saying what mere words could not. That he still loved her, that he still desired her, that she was irrevocably his.

"You will never belong to anyone else, doucette. Not like you belong to me. If I vanished tomorrow, and you found someone else, he could never love you the way I do." Michael’s eyes were almost sad, as if even contemplating being in the world without her were too much to comprehend.

"Stop that. I don’t ever want to be with anyone else, Michael. If you vanished, I would be alone." She sniffled, tears always so close these days, and he wiped the tiny trickle of wetness away from her eyes with his thumb.

"I didn’t mean to make you cry, Kita. I forgot how sensitive you are since you became pregnant."

"It’s okay. Just don’t let it happen again," she said almost fiercely, pretending to be Madeline.

Michael recognized the tone of voice and laughed. "Now you stop that. You’ll give me nightmares."

"Speaking of which, I haven’t had a nightmare in weeks, Michael. Madeline is ecstatic." She smiled, thinking of how her therapy seemed to be progressing recently.

Her face darkened a moment. "Did you tell Madeline about the dreams you were having, Michael?" Michael didn’t meet her eyes. "Michael? You didn’t, did you?"

"I’m sure it’s nothing, Kita. Try not to worry."

"Of course, I worry, Michael, I love you. You have to talk to Madeline about the dreams. I mean it." She tried to look firm, but her generally bright affect as well as her genuinely softer features, courtesy of four months of pregnancy, made it quite impossible.

He kissed her on the nose. "Yes, little mother. I’ll try to do better." She knew she was deliberately being distracted by a man who was a master of illusion, but she forgave him even as he did it.

"Michael!" she suddenly shouted, almost scaring him out of his wits.

He stared at her, watching her cradle her abdomen with both hands. "What’s wrong? Dammit, Kita, talk to me!"

Her mouth dropped open and she began to cry and laugh at the same time. Michael was truly frightened. He didn’t know what was going on, and Nikita seemed unable to tell him.

He grabbed her by the shoulders. "Kita!"

"Michael!" she shouted again, this time grabbing his hands from her shoulders. She placed his hands on her abdomen, her own hands on top, as if to ensure that he didn’t pull away too quickly.

"What? What is it?"

Michael’s eyes darted everywhere, from her face to her abdomen and back again. He was totally frustrated. Then he felt it. His entire face changed. Oh, God.

"Can you feel it, Michael? Can you?" Nikita was beside herself with joy and tears. It was what Neil called "quickening". She felt the baby kick. No, both babies were kicking. They were alive. Both of them. She cried quite helplessly, overcome by the sudden emotional overload.

"Kita, Kita, don’t cry. God, this is wonderful. I can’t believe it!" Even Michael was forced into incoherence by the moment of realization that he was actually feeling their babies moving within Nikita’s body. He laughed despite the tears that were tracing their way down his own cheeks. Now he understood. It was frightening how well he understood. He and Nikita had created life from their love, and that life, those lives, were aching to make themselves known to their parents.

"Should I call someone?" Nikita asked weakly, barely able to form entire sentences.

"Later, Kita. This moment belongs to us. Just us. Right now." Michael moved his hands reluctantly, not wanting to break the connection between him and his babies, or him and Nikita. He wrapped his arms around Nikita, hugging her as closely as he could without hurting her.

He pressed his mouth to hers, almost chastely. "I love you, Kita. I love our babies. But I love you, more than anyone or anything I have ever loved before." His voice broke, and he gave up speech. He stopped, breathing hard, unused to having to confront so much emotion all at once.

Nikita pushed her hands through his hair, raking it back off his face, until she could see his eyes clearly. Beautiful, vivid, grey-green eyes. "Michael, we did it. We made our love real in a way that no one else but us could." The awe in her voice unmistakable, Nikita too lapsed into silence. It seemed appropriate somehow. The twins were talking to them.

When Michael and Nikita finally moved away from each other, it was with great reluctance. He wanted to hold her forever. If God had come down from Heaven and summoned him, he would have asked for one more minute with Nikita. She felt the same way. Yet there was a distinct yearning to share their news with the rest of their family.

They walked downstairs at such a sedate pace, anyone watching them would have been hard put to imagine they were excited. Truthfully, Michael was merely being careful. He feared the stairs were a hazard for Nikita in her present condition, and so, he just managed to be around whenever she needed to move between floors. Nikita was getting used to Michael’s overprotective streak, but when the rest of the men in the family ganged up on her at once, it could get a bit frustrating.

Walter saw the couple approach and waved. "You two are up late. What gives?"

He wiped his hands on a rag and studied the unfinished baby’s cradle on the workbench. "Just oiling the wood a bit before I start the final carving. Some of the work is too delicate to do without oil. Then again, it softens the wood a bit, gives it a nice sheen, and--"

"Dad!" Nikita said, knowing this never failed to get Walter’s immediate attention.

He jumped. "What, Sugar?" He looked weary and not a little shaky, as if his hands were bothering him. Lately all his working with his hands had triggered attacks of arthritis, but of course, Walter insisted there was nothing wrong, and he refused to assuage Nikita’s feelings by going to see Neil.

"Got some news to share with you."

"At this hour? You two are real nightowls."

"Dad, just shut up and listen, please," she whined.

Michael couldn’t stand the anticipation any longer. "Walter, the babies moved."

"No-o-o," Walter said, as if he thought they were teasing him. "Yes!" she shrieked, almost causing Walter and Michael both to lose their hearing.

Walter grabbed her in his arms and whirled her around, nearly sweeping her off her feet. His Sugar was having twins. That was good enough. But the twins were finally making their presence known. That was icing on the cake.

When he stopped his impromptu dance with Nikita, Walter glanced at Michael. "Hey, man, you must be excited!" Michael smiled irrepressibly. "I can’t help it, Walter, I feel so high, I might never come down."

Walter hugged Michael. "Hey, does Birkoff know yet?"

Michael shook his head, his hair sweeping his shoulders. "No, you’re the first, Walter."

"Hey, that’s as it should be, bud." He winked at Michael. "After you, of course."

"Of course," Michael agreed.

Nikita grew impatient. Michael could tell she was chomping at the bit to wake Birkoff and Declan. It was very late, but still, this was welcome news, news they would all want to know as soon as possible.

"Allow me to drag my wife away, Walter. I know she intends to wake the whole house with this. Might as well get it over with." Michael sounded more amused than resigned.

Nikita laughed as Michael wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Bye, Dad." She waved as Michael led her away.

Michael and Nikita walked ever so calmly into the kitchen, surprised to find Declan still working there. "I couldn’t sleep, I’ve been working on restoring the kitchen. Guess you could say it’s a pet project of mine. Heh."

When Declan finished his little speech, Michael laughed softly, thinking he might actually lose his mind before they were done. "Declan, I know you’ve been trying to protect Walter from himself. You like him."

Declan smiled crookedly. "Does it show that much?" he snorted.

"Not to a non-op, maybe. I admit, you’re almost as hard to read as I am, but in a different way."

"Coming from you that’s a compliment, Michael. I appreciate the th--"

Nikita glared at Michael and put her hands on her hips. "Now you decide to learn how to make conversation? Are you trying to drive me crazy?"

Michael hid a smile and Declan looked innocently at Nikita. "Are we trying to drive you crazy? Tis an interesting question, that. Why, I--"

Nikita almost screamed. "The babies moved."

"Oh...I mean, oh!" Declan looked completely surprised. "Whatever I thought you were going to say, that wasn’t it. Not even close."

"Congratulations," Declan said, finally admitting to himself that he felt a bit left out with all the family business lately.

Nikita hugged Declan, and he hugged her back, very carefully, under Michael’s watchful eye. "Is a celebration in order then? Some sort of rite of passage dinner or something?"

Nikita looked at Michael, who nodded encouragingly. "Not exactly. Declan, we have a favor to ask of you."

"A favor? Go ahead. I dunno what I could possibly do for you, you people have done so much for me, but--"

"Declan, shut up! We want you to be one of our babies’ godfathers," said Nikita firmly.

Declan gulped loudly, as he pulled his long hair out of his customary ponytail. "You’re kidding."

Michael shook his head. "Not at all. Declan, we’ve come to feel very close to you in the past months. We want to make you a real part of our family. How do you feel about it?"

Declan continued to play absently with his hair. "You want me to be a godfather to one of your children? Me?" He sniffled, and suddenly, Nikita realized the younger man was moved to tears. "Me? You do remember me saying I’m gay, right? Well, I still am, in case you forgot."

Nikita smiled warmly at Declan. "We didn’t forget, it’s just that it’s not that important. I mean, when I think of how much I like you, I don’t qualify it by saying, Declan, my gay friend... You’re just...Declan."

Michael yawned and smiled faintly, acknowledging the truth of Nikita’s statement. "How can you be so deep at this hour?"

"Practice," Nikita said laughingly.

Declan cleared this throat. "Okay, if I agree, who’s going to be the other godfather?"

"Someone I’m sure you can tolerate. Birkoff."

Suddenly they heard a noise behind them. When they turned, they realized that their newest visitor was the subject of their discussion. Birkoff.

Birkoff grinned. "Walter was laughing and crying so hard, I couldn’t make heads or tails of what he was saying. Did something good happen while I was sleeping?"

"Sorta," said Nikita, mulling over how long they could keep such a secret from Birkoff, of all people. He sniffed intel like bloodhounds tracked their quarry.

In the end, she forgot finesse and blurted out the truth. "The babies moved, Seymour."

"Wow," Birkoff said, almost giggling from nervousness. "I’m sorry, I know it’s not funny, it’s just that I always giggle when I get nervous."

"You can laugh all you want. We did," Michael admitted.

"You did?"

"Like a couple of kids, Birkoff." Nikita finished for Michael.

Michael rubbed Nikita’s abdomen softly and said, "I think they went to sleep, Kita."

"Like we should," she yawned in imitation of Michael. "But first, Birkoff, we have a question for you."

"Yeah?"

"Would you mind being godfather to one of our babies?" Nikita asked.

"You must be joking."

Nikita turned to Michael, laughter in her eyes. "Is it the question or me?"

Michael smiled sleepily, fatigue making his eyes more grey than green at the moment. "I’m not sure."

Birkoff contemplated the happy couple in front of him. "You guys really mean it?"

They nodded, almost simultaneously.

"Well, heck, yeah!" He giggled again.

"If you guys are sure I won’t corrupt the little ones..." Birkoff said.

Nikita glanced at Michael. "They both suffer from the same inferiority complex, Michael. Or are they just being modest?"

"A little of both, maybe?" he offered.

"Maybe. Well, thanks, Birkoff, and you, too, Declan. We’re going back to bed."

Birkoff mumbled under his breath. "That’s how this all started."

"I heard that," said Walter, from behind Michael and Nikita.

Suddenly Nikita laughed, and then everyone was quite giddy. She collapsed, relaxed, against Michael, and he made sure he claimed her with a kiss to her forehead, a gentle but very personal reminder of who she belonged to.

By the time Nikita entered her fifth month of pregnancy, she was well-used to her pre-natal check-ups with Neil. As long as Michael was by her side, during the actual check- up, Nikita was able to cope with anything Neil needed to do. But this time was different. Today was the day for her amniocentesis.

The way Neil explained it, there was no real need for concern. The risks were minimal, to her and to the babies, which was all she really cared about, but the information they would gain would be invaluable. Neil washed his hands and turned to face Nikita and Michael. She had come through the procedure with flying colors.

Nikita exhaled shakily, clinging to Michael’s hand tightly. "That was a little scary, Dr. Hunter. The needle, I mean."

Michael nodded, his face still ashen. He had no trouble bearing his own pain, his tolerance was well-documented, but he could not bear Nikita being in pain. In this case, he knew she was not in actual pain, because she had been prepped for the procedure, but his perception of the needle entering Nikita’s body was such that he could not get his mind to function normally.

"Michael," Neil began, "you didn’t keep your appointment with Madeline. Did something come up, or can you see her today instead?"

Nikita stared at Michael. "You’ve been lying to me. You said you were seeing Madeline. About the dreams, Michael."

He dropped her hand and moved away from Nikita. He refused to make eye contact with her, a telltale sign that he was not telling the truth. "I meant to, Kita."

Neil flushed. "Sorry, Michael, I didn’t mean to step into that. My mistake." He helped Nikita down from the examination table. "Nikita, you have to stay here for at least another hour. I need to observe you for any possible side-effects of the procedure. Would you like to lie down in one of the spare rooms?"

Nikita nodded slightly, her eyes on Michael, who looked incredibly guilty as well as miserable. Being caught in a lie had not happened to him in a long, long time. Since they had left Section, probably. It undoubtedly felt like a betrayal of the first order to him, with all the freshness of the first few times he had been forced to lie to her. Only this time he wasn’t being forced. He had chosen to lie to her. That bothered her more than she could say.

Michael barely managed to connect with Neil’s eyes. "I’ll go talk to Madeline now."

Neil nodded slowly. "Okay. I’m going to put Nikita in one of the spare bedrooms in the back, so she can rest and I can check on her."

Nikita sighed. "How soon will you have the results back on the ultrasound and the amnio, Dr. Hunter?"

"The amnio? Shouldn’t be too long. I’m sending it out to the lab now. I’ll put a rush on it. I’d like to know something more today. As for the ultrasound, you were too busy shaking to notice, during the procedure, but I usually give the parents the first picture of the baby. Would you like to see it now?"

She nodded, vaguely noting that Michael had not left yet. She put her hand out to him, and he slowly moved towards her, as if sensing her disappointment in him. He mouthed "I’m sorry", and she pulled him closer. He lay his head on her shoulder and just stood there for a moment, trying to pull himself together.

Neil watched them in silence, then grabbed the ultrasound picture off the table behind him. "It’s not very big, but you can clearly see two fetal outlines." He pointed them out to Nikita and Michael, his fingers expertly tracing the outlines for them. "At this point, we can, of course, tell the sex of both babies. Is that something you would like to know?"

Nikita brightened. "Oh, yes, please!" She nearly clapped her hands, she was so excited. She felt like she was getting to know her babies, and she was greedy for any information he could give her.

Meanwhile, Michael said nothing. She was too excited to notice that he had grown quiet, and if she had, she would have attributed it to him being upset about lying to her about his therapy with Madeline.

Neil glanced at Michael. He was used to dealing primarily with mothers, anyway, so he was not overly concerned about Michael’s reaction. "Well, Nikita, you are going to have one of each. The twins are fraternal, not identical. One is a boy, and one is a girl. This might help you start thinking about names, eh?"

Nikita grinned. "Absolutely."

She turned to Michael, who seemed frozen in place. It was not that he seemed cold. Far from it. He clearly felt something. His entire body was trembling. She could feel it. But she didn’t understand his reaction. Was he upset? Why?

"I have to go see Madeline," Michael repeated in a monotone.

Neil and Nikita both nodded. Nikita held out the ultrasound picture, but Michael pushed past her, not even looking at it. Her feelings hurt now, she withdrew a little. Neil helped her behind the privacy screen. "Give me a yell if you need help getting dressed, Nikita."

She sniffled, trying not to cry openly. Michael never left her during a check-up. Something was very wrong. "I will," she said huskily. She wearily dragged her clothing on, trying not to notice how much bigger her body had grown. Michael always told her how beautiful she was, and she believed him. But alone, facing a mirror and her own fears and anxieties, she felt ugly. Big and ugly.

***

Michael entered Madeline’s office almost stealthily. Was he hoping she was gone, and he could exit without her even knowing he had been there?

Madeline turned from her usual contemplation of the gardens outside her office window. "Michael. You haven’t been keeping any of your appointments."

"I know," he answered without looking up. That was when she noticed that he was staring a hole in the carpet. He looked thinner than when she last saw him. Pale. Tired.

"Are you sleeping?"

"Sometimes." He didn’t move, just swayed in place gently, as if it was too much effort even to cross the room to her.

"Nightmares?"

"Most of the time, yeah."

"Can you talk about them?" Madeline felt a surge of compassion for Michael so strong, it took her by surprise. He was usually so self-controlled, he needed only minimal help from her. But this was different. He looked like he was drowning in his own bad feelings.

He looked at Madeline helplessly. "I don’t know."

She crossed the room for him, then, taking him into her embrace. He lost what was left of his control. He buried his head against her shoulder and cried. She patted him on the back, almost automatically, trying to will herself not to feel his pain with him. She needed to stay focused, as difficult as that might be.

"Michael...it always helps to talk about it."

His only answer was a choked sob as he tried to regain control. But his feelings were running away with him, and Madeline could only hope she could catch them before it was too late.

Madeline tried to encourage Michael to talk about what was bothering him, but it was futile at this point. He was alternately upset and worried about Nikita. She wanted to reassure him about Nikita’s condition, but the truth was, she didn’t know what was happening to Nikita. She buzzed the intercom to Neil’s office, but there was no answer.

Suddenly Neil appeared, standing in her doorway, looking from her to Michael and back again. "Maddy, can I speak to you a moment?"

She nodded, patting Michael gently on the back before leaving him gazing unseeing out the window. Outside the office, Neil told Madeline that Nikita was in one of the spare bedrooms. "And?"

Madeline seemed to know instinctively that there was more to tell. Neil shrugged. "The procedure went very well. The results of the amnio are pending. But when I showed them the ultrasound of the twins, Nikita was delighted and Michael fell apart."

"Was there something unusual about the ultrasound?"

"Just that the twins are fraternal. One boy, one girl. I asked Nikita if she wanted to know, and she did. So I told her."

Madeline frowned. "Reaction?"

Neil shook his head. "She seemed very happy."

"Michael’s reaction? Was it the same?"

Neil looked pensive. "No..." he thought for a moment. "He seemed upset, almost tremulous."

"Thanks, Neil." She kissed him gently. "None of this was your fault, you know. The two of them can be unpredictable at times."

"I know. But they’ve been having such a good run lately, I thought--"

"There are still unresolved issues, Neil. Some of them are just taking their time coming to the surface, that’s all."

Madeline turned back to the door to push it open, but before she left, she said, "Neil, don’t leave Nikita alone if you can help it. Call Walter or Birkoff and ask them to stay with her."

"She doesn’t want anyone, just Michael. She keeps calling for him, Maddy. It’s kind of upsetting, even to me."

She put a hand on his arm. "Just do the best you can."

***

Michael heard Madeline come in and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. "Madeline..." he said hoarsely. "How is Kita doing?"

"I’m not going to lie to you, Michael. She’s very upset. She doesn’t understand what’s happening. Neither do I. Yet. We need to talk about this." She directed him to the chair next to the window, and he reluctantly sat down.

Madeline fixed Michael with a calculating look. "She’s calling for you, Michael."

"I can’t go to her now. I’ll make things worse." Michael closed his eyes, his head throbbing with what was very likely a migraine.

"Michael, you’re not making any sense."

He buried his face in his hands. "I lied to her."

"About what?"

"About coming here. I told her I was seeing you. About the dreams."

"You’ve been having dreams again?" Madeline seemed perturbed. She had warned Michael not to wait until things escalated out of control. She had begged him to keep his regular appointments. To no avail.

"Yes, I told you before. Nightmares."

"What are they about?" Madeline unfolded her spiral notebook to take notes, but Michael quickly cut her off.

"Don’t you care that I lied to Nikita?" Michael looked tortured, and Madeline quickly put him out of that particular misery. "No. It’s not the first time."

"It’s the first time since we’ve been married. I broke my promise."

"Michael, stop beating yourself up. About that, anyway. It’s the least of your problems. Go on."

Madeline’s face showed her compassionate side, but her tone was almost sharp, as if she were trying to get Michael’s attention. She was. She saw how deeply hurt he was, and she was afraid that it might take a bit of flexing to bring him back to himself.

"What are the nightmares about?"

"Mostly about Adam."

That surprised her. Like some of the others at Section, she had assumed that Michael had finally turned a page and begun to move on with his life. In a way, he had. But this still haunted him. She understood in ways he could not even imagine. She felt partially responsible, for his angst, if nothing else, because she was part of the management that controlled him when he was in Section. She had acknowledged his personal sacrifice, but Operations had not. Operations, in his misguided and repeated attempts to mold Michael into his heir, felt that Michael needed to "snap out of it" and "get over it". She felt guilty for her part in Michael’s painful aftermath. It had nearly gotten him killed. It had nearly gotten Nikita killed. Now they must deal with it.

"Don’t make me pull it out of you, Michael. Tell me."

"Now that we’re free of Section, Madeline, I thought... I thought that maybe I should find Adam. It didn’t seem right that we should be free and living a new life, and Adam is somewhere in the world, growing up without his father."

Her eyes grew impossibly big and wide. She nearly gasped. "Michael, think. You can’t go to Adam. Even if you knew where he was, which you don’t, you would be putting his life in jeopardy."

He looked down at his hands, hands that had held and loved Adam, and he found it difficult to think about anything else.

"Everyone thinks you’re dead. If you somehow resurfaced and claimed Adam, how would you explain it? To Adam? To Elena? And what about Elena? You can’t take Adam away from his mother."

He closed his eyes again, wincing at the renewed throbbing in his head. Maybe he would pass out. That would be a welcome relief.

"What about Nikita?" Madeline continued almost relentlessly, her voice pounding at him with the force of a jackhammer now. "You have a wife now. You have your own children to think about. All of us would be at risk if you went to Adam, Michael. All of us. You would lead Section straight to him, and then right back to us."

Michael listened in abject despair. "You’re right, of course. It just doesn’t seem right."

"Life is seldom fair, Michael. Admittedly, you’ve had some of the roughest breaks so far, but life has improved dramatically for you and Nikita."

"But when Neil said that we were having a boy and a girl...I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I felt like I would choke if I managed to say anything at all. It seems like a betrayal of Adam. How can God give me another son when he took Adam away, Madeline?"

"Are you saying you won’t be able to love your own son, Michael? Do you want to punish the innocent for something they don’t have anything to do with? Will that bring Adam back?"

Michael was beyond pain now. His nerves felt stretched to the breaking point. "But I feel so guilty now, Madeline. How can I enjoy raising my children, knowing I have another child in the world who isn’t so lucky?"

"You have to find a way to get past this, Michael. There is no quick and easy resolution for this. You have to want to work through this."

"I do. But I can’t face Kita the way I am now." He was adamant about not going to Nikita in his present condition. Hell, if he had a mirror handy, he would probably scare himself half to death, not to mention her.

"How can you stay away from her at a time like this, Michael? You both need each other too much to do it this way. What you’re doing is dangerous. It could destroy you both. Not to mention the rest of us who love and depend on you."

Michael considered her words, but he was finding it harder and harder to think clearly. Neil knocked on the door before striding inside with purpose. "I have to talk to you, Maddy." His tone implied it was both urgent and imperative.

"What is it, Neil?"

Neil cast conflicted eyes at Michael before looking directly at Madeline. "Nikita isn’t getting any better, Walter is on his way, and if I were Michael, I would hide before he gets here."

"And?"

Neil looked genuinely worried. "The results of the amnio are back. Everything looks okay except that the maternal alpha-fetoprotein is elevated."

"What does that mean?" Michael looked stricken.

"It could mean there was a neural tube defect in one of the fetuses. Or it could be nothing. She is, after all, having twins. The test itself has a high margin for error, lots of false-positive results."

"How will we know?" Michael asked shakily.

"We can run another ultrasound, maybe even another amnio in a month."

"That long? How are we going to wait that long?" Michael frowned, even as he struggled to process this.

"Does Kita know?"

Neil nodded. "Well, yes. I just told her."

"And you left her by herself?" Michael abruptly jumped up and ran out to find her.

Neil smiled enigmatically, and Madeline immediately noticed. "What did you do, Neil?"

"Nothing much. Everything I said was true. Fact is, Nikita’s alpha-fetoprotein is no doubt elevated due to multiple gestation. It’s very unlikely there is a chromosomal defect or some other problem."

"Then why did you--"

"I’ve learned something important about Michael and Nikita since I started seeing them. Michael doesn’t respond well to threats to himself, but he has a strong sense of loyalty to his family, a strong territoriality, if you will. So by making him think Nikita is at risk, he forces himself to function. For her. For now."

"A temporary measure at best. But it will help both of them. Thanks." She nearly forgot how inventive Neil could be.

Neil beamed at his Maddy. "You’re welcome. But you can make it up to me later."

Now it was Madeline’s turn to smile enigmatically.

***

Michael burst through the door to the bedroom where Nikita rested. She was sobbing pitifully into a pillow she was cradling in her arms. "Kita!" Michael all but shouted.

Nikita raised her face off the pillow and stared at Michael as if he weren’t real. "Michael?" Then a full ten seconds later. "Michael! Oh, God, Michael!" She would have launched herself off the bed in a moment, but Michael moved too quickly.

Grabbing her face between both hands, Michael kissed her. One knee on the bed, he was poised to pull her into his arms or lie down next to her. His senses were screaming at him to do one or the other. He lay down on the bed with a thump. This close to her face, he could see the damage he had wrought. Her eyes were swollen and red from crying. Her nose was running. Her lips were dry and cracked. She was still the most welcome sight he had ever seen.

"Kita," he breathed.

She shifted anxiously under his ardent gaze. "Don’t look at me like that, Michael, I know how ugly I am."

"No, doucette. Not ugly. Never ugly. Not to me." He kissed her again.

"That’s why you left me in the examination room, right? You realized how bad things were going to get and you took off." Her eyes bled more tears, and he kissed them away as best he could.

"No, doucette. I’ll explain what happened later. It’s not important now." He stroked her hair again and again, grateful she was still there, still receptive to him, still his.

She could barely see for her own tears, but she suddenly registered that Michael was crying as well. "Michael, what’s wrong?"

"Ssh, Kita..." He enfolded her, his face buried in the crook of her neck where it met her shoulder.

"Just tell me one thing right now...are we still okay?" She could barely speak for fear of the reply.

"Yes," he whispered against her neck. For now, he thought. "Walter’s coming, Kita."

"Walter? Why?" She looked concerned.

"Don’t ask. Just hold me." And protect me from him.