Thomas Wolfe said, “You can never go home again.” It didn’t feel that way to Sasha and Skye. Coming home was the realization of a fervent dream born in their hearts mere hours ago. It seemed like they had been away forever.

“Da, you called ahead to tell everyone we were coming, didn’t you?”

Declan laughed and rolled his eyes. “Sasha, you heard me make the call on my cell phone.”

“Oh, right.” A moment later, Sasha plunged headfirst into more avid chatter. “Think they’ll be waiting?”

Declan shook his head at his son’s renewed energy and enthusiasm. “Couldn’t stop them if we tried.”

“Are we almost there?”

Declan traded bemused looks with Michael over Sasha’s head. “Would you like to drive, Sasha?”

Sasha blushed fiercely. “Sorry, Da. Guess I’m a little excited.”

Michael smiled, ruffling his daughter’s silky blonde hair. “We could tell.” He scrutinized Skye’s perfect complexion one more time, clearly searching for hidden injuries. “You’re sure you’re all right, sweetheart?”

Skye solemnly nodded. “Yep.” She yawned, and her father drew her closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Can I take a nap, Daddy?”

“Of course.” Michael settled Skye into a more comfortable position against him, letting the cadence of her steady heartbeat soothe and reassure him. All of his children were special to him, all of them for very different reasons. Some simple, some more complicated. But though he loved Skye’s gifted intellect, amongst other things, he wasn’t afraid to admit that he loved her for her striking resemblance to her mother. He was careful not to play favorites with his children, and God knew, it would be so easy to fall into that trap. But he often thought of Skye as a pocket-sized version of Nikita.

Of course, physical resemblance was one thing. The fact was, when it came to personality, Faith *was* Nikita, in too many ways to count. As for Chris, he loved his quiet, unassuming manner that somehow, when he least expected it, bespoke great power. Nikita was convinced that Chris *was* Michael, all over again. But then, it was too early to tell how their youngest child, Luc, would turn out.

Michael’s musing was interrupted by their imminent arrival home. Home. Now there was a word that held greater meaning for him than for anyone else. Something he was too young to appreciate before Section. Something he was not allowed to have once he was recruited. And now that Section’s time had passed, he could see why. The very concept of home was a puissant lure to people like Michael and Nikita.

Once, it was something he never thought he could have again. Now, it was something he never thought he could live without.

***

Nikita shaded her eyes with one hand, watching as the Jeep rolled up the driveway. “They’re here!” she yelled, catching everyone’s attention.

A burst of cacophonous laughter and squealing charged the air. Children darted here and there, almost running alongside the Jeep as it pulled into its rightful place in front of the Samuelle home.

Declan got out first, bracing the door open with his body. He lifted Sasha into his arms to help him out of the car, but once he had his arms around his son again, he was reluctant to let go. Grinning sheepishly, Declan said apologetically, “Sorry, kiddo. I know you’re a big boy.”

Sasha gave him a brilliant smile that lit up his dark eyes and made Declan’s heart ache. God, he looked just like Sey when he smiled that way. He couldn’t believe how lucky they were to have found him.

“It’s okay, Da. I’ll forgive you this time.” Sasha took advantage of his perch in Declan’s arms to give him another hug and a kiss, whispering “I’m glad you’re my Da,” in Declan’s ear.

Fortunately for him, Declan had no need for the words he suddenly couldn’t find. All at once, Sey was there, and Sasha promptly burst into tears. “Daddy!” he shouted, burying his face against Sey’s neck. It took Sey completely by surprise, but not Declan. Declan was fast beginning to discover their son’s hidden depths.

It was all Sey could do to hold onto Sasha, but gradually, his tears became a trickle. Sasha abruptly released Sey’s neck, as if he had only just realized that he was hugging him so tightly. “Sorry, Daddy.”

“Don’t be, Sasha. Never be afraid of being who you are. That’s one of the things I still have to work on, but you, you do it instinctively.”

Sasha smiled tearfully, dashing the remaining wetness from his eyes. “Guess that makes me a great kid, huh?”

Sey kissed his son on the cheek, biting his lip to keep his own tears in check. “Hey, kiddo, you’re my hero.”

"I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you, too.”

***

Michael opened the passenger side door, slowly exiting the vehicle with his daughter in his arms. Nikita literally bounced up and down anxiously, waiting for the two of them to notice her.

“Michael!”

“Doucette!” he echoed softly. Wrapping an arm around Nikita, he pulled her close, even as he continued to hold Skye. Skye kissed her mother, automatically winding her arms around Nikita’s neck. “M-mommy?”

“I’m so g-glad to see you, sweetie,” Nikita choked out, tears now streaming down her face.

“Me, too, Mommy.”

The three of them could have easily stood there, embracing each other, all night, but for the intervention of the other children. “Skye!” Faith called to her baby sister. “Was it scary?”

Skye’s clear blue eyes grew wide and round as she nodded. “Yes. It was. Really scary.”

Faith looked so guilt-stricken, she could hardly breathe. But instead of doing as Nikita predicted, breaking down and crying, Faith grasped the little girl’s hand in hers. “I bet you were really brave, Skye,” she said determinedly.

Suddenly, Skye saw herself as Faith saw her, and she realized that something had changed between them. She might still be the twins’ younger sister, but she was no longer an object for ridicule. There was a new respect in Faith’s eyes for Skye, as a person in her own right, and there would be no going back anymore.

Chris, who had no such doubts about his younger sister in the first place, smiled quietly. “You missed school today,” he commented.

“No, I didn’t, Chris. I didn’t miss it one bit,” she replied, surprising him into a chuckle.

Walter joined the happy group, Miranda at his hip, and embraced Nikita. “Happy, Sugar?”

“You bet, Dad.”

Declan, Sey and Sasha came around the corner of the Jeep, and suddenly they were besieged by the other children. Michael gave Skye into his wife’s safekeeping with obvious reluctance, inclining his head at Declan. Declan managed to separate himself from Sey and his son finally, slowly making his way to Michael’s side.

“Question?” Declan asked.

Michael nodded. “Important.”

Declan’s silvery gaze cooled perceptibly, ready to shift back into mission mode if need be. “Aye?”

“Over here.” They walked a short distance away from the others, and Michael could sense Nikita’s interest, but she was wise enough not to say anything.

“Mme. Dupre isn’t closing the school.”

“Did you expect her to? Heartbroken widow that she is?” Declan queried rhetorically.

“That’s just it. She isn’t.”

“Heartbroken?”

“Yes.”

“Would you be if someone conveniently shot *your* abusive husband and released you from prison?” Declan commented dryly.

Michael shook his head. “The point is...we have a decision to make.”

“Whether or not to send the kids back to school?” Declan raised an eyebrow. “Well, hell, Michael. If everyone came down with flu, you couldn’t keep your kids out of school in case there was another outbreak someday.”

“This...was hardly the flu, Declan.”

“I know. But you know what I mean, Michael. We’re too attached to the kids as it is. If we don’t let them go out and face life, with all the risks that includes, we’re hurting them, not helping them.”

“You’re right. It’s just that...” Michael sighed, a sliver of sound that barely pierced the air between the two men. “There has to be a better way to protect them, Declan. The academy’s security isn’t--”

“Worth shit. Aye, I know, Michael.” Declan groaned softly. “What do you want to do about it?”

“Offer our services on a...consultant basis?”

“With everything else we’ve got going on?” Declan wasn’t unwilling, just wondering how they could possibly take on one more thing.

Michael gave Declan a considering look. “Walter’s at loose ends these days. Maybe...” Michael paused significantly.

Declan brightened. “Damn, I like the way you think, Michael. Guess that’s why you’re still top op.”

Michael snorted. “I’m not in competition with you, Declan.”

Declan grinned. “Same old Michael. Can’t tease you for nothing.”

The vivid green of Michael’s eyes deepened as they crinkled at the corners. A crooked half-smile traced his lips as he stood there, arms crossed in front of them, legs wide apart. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Declan.” He flicked an imaginary speck of lint off the sleeve of his leather jacket. “But I am...and I will always be...top op.”

Declan chuckled. “I’ll try to remember that.”

Michael looked more serene than Declan had seen him in a long time. “You do realize I’m kidding, right?”

“Oh, is that what that was?”

Declan managed to duck before Michael could touch him. Some men had all the luck.

“What did you say?”

“I don’t re-mem-ber...Jesus, Derry, you’re like a fr-freaking ani-mal!”

Derry wrapped her long, sinuous form around her husband’s body, and he groaned. “And you love it!”

“God, yes! I think you’re gonna end up killing me, though, darlin’! Be careful with the movin’ parts, okay?”

“I never make...” She panted, her breasts heaving against his chest, her nipples sharp points that abraded the skin laid bare. Davenport’s chest was hairless. Which meant he could feel each and every separate and distinct impression her body made against his. “...promises I can’t keep.”

His large hands clenched and unclenched on her hips, pulling her into his groin, forcing his arousal deeper and deeper inside her. Yet it wasn’t enough. It was never enough. He could bury himself in the very heart of her, and still, he wanted only to stay there. Never surface again. Be joined with her. Forever.

Desire spiraled wildly out of control. His hips bucked, nearly unseating her, but she refused to let go of him. Sweat slicked their bodies, though it was autumn, and the night air was cool. “Jake!” she screamed, flinging herself out into space.

For the longest moment, there was no sound but the wet slapping of their nearly spent bodies moving in erratic time. Davenport groaned loudly as he emptied himself inside her welcoming heat. Their rhythm slowed, but still strangely in synch. Little aftershocks raced along the outsides of her long legs, and she could feel his hard, flat abdomen quiver. God, it was wonderful, it made her feel almost powerful, to know she could have that effect on a man like Jake.

He rolled over, so that she now lay beneath him. “You like being on top, don’t you, baby?” he whispered in her ear. His now flaccid member still lodged deeply inside her, he began to kiss her. Ear, cheekbone, forehead. “I love you, darlin’.”

“It’s been so long, Jake,” she whispered back. “I thought we’d never get a moment when there wasn’t a baby crying or a puppy barking...somewhere.”

He sighed, a long, deep exhalation that came straight from his groin. Burying his face against her neck, he began to suckle. Hard. Leaving his mark on her.

“Oh, Jake...again?” But Derry’s voice hardly sounded discomfited. If anything, she sounded...well, hopeful.

In answer, he slid his hand down between her legs, feeling where they were joined. She jerked at his touch, and he soothed her still aroused nerve endings, rubbing his fingers over the nub. His fingers were slick with his own life essence, and the silky feel of her skin excited him. He grew hard again. Almost rigid.

He latched onto one of her nipples, tugging and nipping at its tip with his teeth. She threw her head back in reckless abandon, shuddering as he renewed his thrusts against her. Locking her legs around his waist, she forced him harder and deeper inside her. Rocking so hard, the bed began to move against the wall, Davenport stroked, impatient to find release one more time.

“Come, darlin’, come with me,” he exhorted huskily.

“Oh, God! Jake!” Her breath caught on a sob, and it was over.

Reluctantly disengaging himself from her warm, wet recesses, Davenport rolled over onto his back again. Slightly out of breath, Davenport began to chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” his dear Celtic princess demanded.

“You.”

She started to frown, anger burning just below the surface. “What do y’ mean?”

He saw her scowl, and he immediately sought damage control. “Just that...you said this all started because you were...how did you put it?”

“Damn tired of cleaning shit?” Derry howled with laughter, tears springing into those beautiful silvery eyes he loved. Davenport grinned wickedly. He was corrupting her. His once-virginal little Section assassin was coming alive in his arms.

“Well, it’s true,” she said, finally catching her breath. “Between the twins and the puppies, there’s never a shortage of...poop.”

“You saying I just make a nice change of pace, darlin’?” he asked, kissing her.

“Mmm...you do at that, Jake. A delicious one.”

He licked her mouth, and then his tongue sought entrance, finding its mate to duel with, unafraid, for several breathless seconds. Just when she was beginning to think that they might make love yet again, she heard it. A baby crying.

“Damn...I was hoping we could--”

Davenport smiled against Derry’s mouth. “You think I’m the Man of Steel or something?”

She slid her hands across his flat male nipples, feeling the instantaneous reaction with her fingertips. “I’d love the chance to find out.”

“I’ll just bet you would.”

***

A few hours later, the phone rang. “Shit, this better be damn important,” Davenport cursed. Running a hand over his smooth head, he sighed into the phone, even as he answered it.

“Unh...yeah?”

“Now is that any way to answer a phone, man?” Walter inquired.

“Walter! How are you?” Despite himself, Davenport was glad for Walter’s interruption.

His hands moving restlessly, albeit absently, over his wife’s body, Davenport needed a moment of respite from their marathon lovemaking. “What’s up?”

“I’m going to be going over to the academy later today. Wanna come?”

“Just for the ride?” he asked, puzzled.

“No, Dav. Jeez, you’re as slow on the uptake as Declan was, the night before last. What is it with you new breed field ops? You take too many blows to the head?”

“Walter, you were a field op once,” Davenport chided Walter.

“Ha, don’t remind me.” Walter paused. “I’m going to be acting as consultant, you know, see how the academy could update their security and all.”

“That’s great! God knows, they need the help. But why’d you call me?”

“I was lonely and looking for true love? I don’t know, Dav. What do you think?” Walter asked dryly.

“I give up.”

“So do I,” said Walter with a sigh. “I want to offer you a job.”

“As what?”

“As the new head of security at the academy.”

“For real?” Davenport asked incredulously.

“Yeah, for real. Do we have a bad connection or something?”

“Gee, thanks, Walter!”

"I take it, that’s a yes then.”

“Yes! Definitely yes!”

Walter listened for a moment longer, then hung up. He could have sworn Davenport was doing the happy dance on the other end of the phone. But that wasn’t unexpected. What he didn’t expect was the last thing Dav said. Not to him. But to his wife.

It sounded suspiciously like he told her they could give up cleaning crap and hire someone to do it for them.

What the hell did that mean?

“I’ve got early classes this morning, Sey. I won’t be able to stay and see Sasha off to school.” Declan looked conflicted. In his heart of hearts, he wanted to stay home and see Sasha get on the bus himself. No, actually, what he wanted was to stay home, keep Sasha home until he was at least 18, and beat the stuffing out of anyone who told him otherwise.

Mind reader that his partner was, Sey sighed in agreement. “I hear what you’re not saying, Dec. Believe me, I do. But you know kids, they’re resilient, they bounce back, they--”

A door slammed. Sasha burst into the sitting room like his feet were on fire. “Do I have to go to school today?” Sasha all but wailed.

Declan gave Sey a pained look. “You were saying?”

Sasha put down his backpack and stood there, arms crossed, looking inexplicably defiant except for the trace of tears still visible in his eyes. “Couldn’t I stay here and go to school with Uncle James?”

“Sasha, I know how you feel, but--”

“No, you don’t, Daddy! No one knows how I feel!”

Declan winced. His head was starting to hurt. He needed to go, but he didn’t want to leave Sey to deal with Sasha on his own. Struggling to put Sasha’s all too pale face out of his mind, he gave Sey a quick hug and a kiss, taking a moment to whisper, “Sey, I hate to leave, but--”

Sey nodded. His lips close to Declan’s ear, he whispered back, “We’ll be okay here. Just go.”

Declan looked like he was being tortured. Slowly. “You sure?” he mouthed.

Sey’s heart filled with sympathy. Declan was one of the strongest men he’d ever known, but his vulnerable side he showed to no one but Sey. Pressing his mouth tenderly to Declan’s, he lingered a moment, trying to reassure him that things would eventually turn out all right. “I love you,” he whispered.

That provoked a glimmer of a smile. “I love you, too, acushla. If you ever guessed how much, you’d never let me out of the house.”

Declan resisted the temptation to pick up his son and hold him. He was too afraid of giving in to Sasha’s request to stay home. “Be good, kiddo,” he said with a half- hearted attempt at a smile.

Sasha’s lower lip quivered alarmingly, and Declan threw himself through the door before he could see the torrent of tears about to be unleashed.

“Hey,” Sey said, certain he sounded like a surrealistic cheerleader. “I’ll walk you out to the bus, okay?” he said, grasping Sasha’s hand.

Sasha buried his face against his father’s thigh. “You’re really gonna make me go?” he asked tearfully.

Before Sey could answer, he heard the words that every parent dreaded. “You don’t love me anymore.”

Stricken to the core, Sey grabbed Sasha by the shoulders, nearly shaking him in a desire to make him see how wrong he was. “Sasha! Don’t ever say that!” He pulled the little boy into his arms, resting his chin on the satiny brown hair. “I love you, Sasha. I’ll always love you. No matter what.”

Sasha sobbed against Sey’s chest, his fingers clenched so tightly on his shirt, it was a mass of wrinkles. Knowing that Sasha was rarely one to overreact like this, Sey pondered making sense out of this. “Sasha? What exactly are you afraid of?”

Sasha swiped at his face, smearing wetness across his cheeks. “It’s not what happened to me, Daddy. It’s what almost happened to Skye.”

“You can’t drive yourself crazy wondering about what almost happened, Sasha.”

Sasha hiccuped. “But I was supposed to protect her, Daddy. Only I failed. I couldn’t stop what happened.”

“Some things are always going to be beyond our control, Sasha. That’s just the way it is. It stinks, but that’s still the way it is. The bottom line here is, you kept Skye safe.”

He reached for Sasha’s hand, and the boy’s fingers intertwined with his. “Come on,” Sey said, “I’ll walk you to the bus.”

***

Standing on the front porch in the cool early morning air, Sey waited with his son for the bus to arrive. He could feel the young boy’s tension, feel him trembling, the fine tremors just beneath the surface. With each and every minute, Sasha’s agitation grew, until it was all he could do to control himself.

Then she came. His beloved angel girl. Running to Sasha’s side, Skye caroled gaily, “Guess what, Sasha? We don’t have to ride the bus today! Grandpa’s going to take us to school! Isn’t that great?”

Sasha looked stunned. Frankly, so did Sey, though he recovered much more quickly than anyone might have expected. “H-he is?” Sasha stammered.

“Walter’s taking you to school today?” Sey asked the little blonde girl.

Skye nodded quite happily. “Yes!” Skye grabbed Sasha’s other hand, either not noticing his obvious upset or pretending he was fine to save face. Sey thought of how intelligent the four-year old was and shook his head. No, she was too perceptive not to feel Sasha’s trepidation or to intuit its cause. And she was hopelessly enamored of his son, not to mention nearly as kind as Emmy. If the little girl could find a way to help Sasha through this, she would. In a New York minute.

“Isn’t that great, Beast?” Forgetting that they weren’t alone, she automatically used her nickname for Sasha. “Now I don’t feel scared anymore.”

"Th-that’s great, Ange,” Sasha likewise responded in kind, using his nickname for her.

Sey used Sasha’s attraction to the charismatic little girl to his advantage, gently edging him away from him, slowly nudging him closer to her. Eventually, Sasha began to let go of his father’s hand. Sey’s dark brown eyes met Skye’s clear blue gaze, and with a shock, he realized that everything he’d been thinking was true. Michael’s youngest daughter was indeed gifted, but her gifts were not limited to her intellect alone.

You love him, he said without speaking. I would do anything for him, she answered without uttering a word. Sey’s hand pressed the small of Sasha’s back, softly propelling him towards the little girl. Take good care of him, he thought, he’s important to both of us. Her eyes filled with a maturity beyond her years, Skye nodded knowingly.

Walter stepped out onto the porch, re-tying a colorful bandanna around his head. “Hey, kids. I’m going to be spending a lot of time at St. Anselm’s this week so I thought I’d give you guys a ride. How ‘bout it? You ready?”

Walter’s breezy manner gave nothing away. If he was volunteering because he was aware of the fear and anxiety all of the children felt at the thought of getting on the school bus, he didn’t show it. But Sey knew Walter. God knew, he had helped him through many a crisis, both during and after their days at Section. Walter didn’t get the idea to help Sasha and Skye and the twins from Michael or Nikita or even Sey. Walter was just...Walter. A country unto himself.

Walter glanced kindly at Sey before putting on his sunglasses. “You don’t mind turning them over to me, do you, man? I promise to take real good care of ‘em.”

“I know you will, Walter.” Sey debated for exactly one second, then gave Walter a fierce hug, whispering “Hey, you were always there when I needed you. Thanks for being there for Sasha, too.”

Walter might have pretended to be more aloof than he felt, but his hands tightened on Sey’s back for a moment, betraying his compassion and his empathy. “What are friends for?” he quipped lightly.

Sey closed his eyes briefly. “You’re a helluva lot more than a friend to me, and you know it.”

“Same here, amigo,” Walter replied gruffly, trying to cover the sudden surge of emotion in his voice.

“Hey, you haven’t called me that in a long time,” he chided Walter.

“Still true, though,” Walter said. “Some things never change.”

***

Davenport wrestled with tying a tie, wondering why on earth he was even attempting to wear a real, honest-to- goodness shirt instead of his usual T-shirt. “Derry, I’m s’posed to meet Walter in--” He glanced at his watch and swore. “Like five minutes ago!”

Derry crept up behind her husband, suddenly wrapping her arms around his massive chest. She pressed her breasts into his back, and he groaned. “Derry! Tell me you’re not still naked!”

“I’m not still naked, Jake,” she echoed coyly.

“Little liar,” he said, spinning around to crush her against him, kissing the breath from her. “You’re going to wrinkle the shirt, darlin’.”

“Then take it off, Jake.”

“Darlin’, we do not have time for another go- round, trust me.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, running a couple of fingers inside his shirt.

“Uhhh...one of us has to be strong here, Derry. Seriously.” He was losing ground and he knew it. Could he help it if he just loved to touch her? Silky. Satiny. Skin. All over.

She pulled his hand down between her legs, and the heat there took his breath away. Suddenly Davenport’s cell phone rang. “Shit.”

Davenport reached for the phone, snapping it open, but Derry took it out of his hand, whispering politely, “He’s going to be a little bit late, Walter.” She dropped the phone on the bed behind them where it landed with a soft thud.

“You shouldn’t have done that, darlin’. I’ll be in trouble before I get started.”

Derry licked her lips invitingly. “You’re already in trouble, Jake. Come here.”

“Oh, boy.”

Ariel could feel his eyes watching her. She pretended to be adjusting the chignon at the back of her head, but she was certain that he knew. Knew what? Knew just how much he was getting to her.

She could hear the whispers, the sudden hush of conversation when she walked into a room. Her abuse at the hands of Henri Dupre was now a matter of public knowledge. Her affair with Remy was still being investigated by the police. Not because having an affair was against the law. But because her affair inadvertently tied her to Remy’s extortion attempt. She was the only one who honestly considered herself a victim in all of this, and yet....

What about him? Her nose wrinkled discreetly. She couldn’t put him out of her mind, as much as she tried. But it was madness to think there could ever be anything meaningful between the two of them. He was, after all, the janitor. A very attractive janitor. But still, a janitor.

That’s why she ignored his scrutiny. Oh, he acted as if he were merely doing his job. Painstakingly sweeping the same spot in the hallway outside her office. Mooning over her like a lovestruck calf? Ha! He might be young, but he was hardly a boy. She had done a little detective work of her own, thinking to put him out of her mind (and heart?) once and for all. One or two keystrokes on the computer, and she had called up his personnel file.

Everything he hadn’t told her was there. And more. He was English. Working-class English. Born and bred in London. He never made it as far as University. But it wasn’t because he was stupid. He was in fact brighter than average. But school was not for him. With little money and even less ambition, he never exploited his potential. He might have been a gifted academic of some sort under different circumstances. But people like him had to fight to survive day to day. Even technical schools cost the earth. Looking beyond that day just didn’t enter into the scheme of things.

Still, he continued to surprise her. A janitor who could quote Proust and Nietzsche was an oddity. His charismatic manner and his striking good looks simply added up to an incredible package. Even as she told herself to forget him, she knew she was going to find it very difficult to do. There was something strangely compelling about him. As if he were more than the sum of his parts. Well... Maybe he was.

***

Indigo leaned hard on his broom. She was trying not to look at him again. She thought he didn’t notice. But he did. She was so pretty. He sighed. She was also determined not to get involved. It was such a shame.

Normally, Ariel Dupre was a vibrant, emotionally accessible woman. It was one of the things that drew him to her. But her husband’s and lover’s deaths seemed to conspire against her, stealing the very life from her. She looked weary. Like she wasn’t sleeping.

He would be patient. He would make her see him, really see him. It had to happen. He wanted it too much for it not to come to pass.

***

Hours later, Ariel emerged from her office, feeling as though she had been put through the wringer. The police were finally satisfied that she had nothing to do with her husband’s or her lover’s deaths. But the endless questioning had taken a toll on her. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten.

As if by magic, Indigo appeared, sandwiches in hand. “Milady,” he said chivalrously, sweeping a bow that nearly scraped the floor. “Egg salad or tuna?”

Against her will, her mouth curved into a delicious smile. “How did you know?”

Indigo’s beautiful eyes sparkled warmly, flickering over her face like a gentle caress. “That you had a secret desire for egg salad?” he asked with a lilt in his lightly accented voice.

She blushed, just like a schoolgirl. Oh, my. Her eyelashes fluttered. What the man was doing to her without even trying was simply sinful. “That I was hungry,” she corrected.

He shrugged. Handing her the egg salad sandwich, he asked, “Wanna have a picnic?”

“Indigo...are you flirting with me?”

He grinned. “That depends. Is it working?”

She colored deeply. “This really isn’t a very good time for...I really shouldn’t....”

“I think you’ve spent most of your life doing what you should do. Ever wonder what it’s like to actually have...fun?” Indigo reached out a finger to push back an escaping tendril of her hair. She couldn’t help it. She gasped when his finger inadvertently contacted her skin. It was a gesture that was truly insignificant and yet strangely intimate for all that.

“Don’t...” she whispered.

“Don’t what? Encourage you to have fun? You look like you could use a good push in that direction, love.”

Startled, she glanced at him fearfully. “What did you call me?”

“Love?” It had just slipped out. He couldn’t lie to her, though. He couldn’t tell her that it didn’t mean anything. So he settled for misdirection. “You know us Brits, every girl’s a love, every guy’s Guv.”

“Oh,” she said, somehow disappointed. Not only was she surprised that it wasn’t what she expected to hear, she was stunned to learn that it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. Her husband was a cold, cruel man rarely given to expressing affection to his wife. Her lover, Remy, for all his passion, never touched her outside of bed. Where were her rightful kisses and hugs and--

Oh, God, what was she thinking. Her husband barely dead and buried. Her lover the same. How could she be so starved for affection that she would respond to anyone, anyone at all? Even a janitor?

She stared down at the sandwich she held, knowing that as hungry as she was, it was not for food. As hungry as she was, she had no appetite. “I-I’m sorry, Robin,” she said huskily, offering him the sandwich. “I’m not--”

“But you are!” Indigo looked puzzled. “You haven’t eaten a thing in hours, love.”

There it was again. That dangerous word. That...tempting word. Who was he to call her that? She was no one to him. No one but his boss. There could never be anything else between them.

Could there?

“You’re tired, hungry. You need a proper lie down, that’s what you need. Don’t you have a couch in your office?”

“How do--” She fell silent. Of course he knew there was a couch in her office. He cleaned it. Again and again, she told herself that she was not a snob, that it shouldn’t matter what Indigo did or didn’t do.

“Come on,” he said, opening her office door with his passkey. He literally dragged her over the threshold, laughing softly when she collided with him. She felt so good. So soft.

“Go lie down.” She blinked curiously at him, wondering why she didn’t put him in his place. He had no right to command her attention this way. He had no right to- -

--kiss her like that.

When Ariel didn’t immediately move, Indigo moved closer, expecting her to back up towards the couch. But she didn’t. She just kept staring at him with that helpless look in her hazel eyes. He loved that look. It was a look that invited him in, even as her body language remained undecided.

His mouth lightly brushed against hers. Her eyes stayed open. Her only reaction was a faint inhalation that could just as easily have been fatigue as desire. “Am I scaring you, love?” he whispered.

She shook her head imperceptibly.

“Can I do it again then?” he asked almost tentatively.

Her long eyelashes swept down to cover her eyes briefly, hiding whatever expression lurked there.

“Please.” His entreaty was irresistible. Uttered in a barely-there whisper, it spoke of need and something else. Something that made her heart flutter as wildly as her lashes.

His extraordinary blue eyes traveled over her face, lingering on her mouth. As if he could not bear to wait another moment to hear her response, he kissed her. His touch was so tender, it made her ache.

Gently pushing her back, he walked her to the couch, his body held under rigid control. When they sat down together, she waited anxiously for him to take advantage of the situation and her lack of resistance. But no...

He stood up, looking astonishingly boyish with his hair falling over his forehead. He bit his lip. “I want to take care of you,” he said, completely sincere. He had never meant anything more in his life.

“I can take care of myself,” she couldn’t help but snap, more irritated with herself than him.

“Of course you can,” he agreed. ‘But why should you, when there’s someone who’ll do it for you?”

“I had that. With Henri. Him making every single decision for both of us.” Her voice was bitter. She never realized just how much she had lost, just how much anger she had submerged over the years.

“It wouldn’t be like that with me.”

Knowing she had to put a stop to this untoward attraction before it spiraled out of control, Ariel was something she had not been in a very long time. She was deliberately unkind. “No, Robin, it would be worse.”

He looked stricken. It was not as if he had declared undying love for her, Ariel sighed to herself, but whatever he was feeling, it was far too dangerous to be indulged.

He closed his eyes and took an involuntary step back. Away from her. Clutching the sandwiches in his hands, he said softly, “Suddenly I’m not very hungry either.” He put the sandwiches on her desk and turned away, through the door before she could call him back.

Damn. He was nicer than he had any right to be. Her head pulsated with fresh pain as a new headache took up residence there. This was a complication she surely didn’t need.

But she wished she did.

Indigo muttered under his breath as he made his way back to the small basement area he claimed as his own. “Stupid git,” he cursed himself. “Never should have tried to push her this soon.”

He himself felt nothing but overwhelming relief that she was finally free of that monster she once called a husband. But he could understand if she saw it differently. Monster or not, Henri had been her husband. For better or worse. Mostly for worse.

Indigo might have been surprised to know what Ariel was really thinking. Her head, and all those mocking voices in it, kept telling her that it was wrong to be attracted to Indigo. Her heart, on the other hand, repeatedly berated her for passing up an opportunity that very well might not come again.

Torn between the two conflicting emotions, she was miserable. She sat right where Indigo had left her, her body slumped forward, her face buried in her hands. What if Indigo took her at her word? What if...he never came near her again?

What kind of a person was she that she was more concerned with Indigo than either her late husband or Remy? “Oh, Robin....”

***

It was the end of the day. Walter was in the process of gathering up the kids for their trip home when he abruptly noticed that the twins were nowhere to be seen.

Walter passed a weathered old hand over his face and grumbled, “Okay, guys, where did Faith and Chris go?”

Sasha, who was in infinitely better spirits, chuckled. “They had to go on a secret mission.”

“A secret--? Wha--? Jee-zus!” When Walter paled beneath his tan, Sasha gazed up at him, all at once the essence of solicitude. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you or anything,” the six-year old said apologetically.

Walter surreptitiously wiped an eye. The kid really didn’t know just how much he and the others meant to the family.

“It’s just that-- After the other day-- What happened-- I mean....” His voice trailed off.

Sasha nodded knowingly and placed his small hand over Walter’s. His dark chocolate eyes glowed with kindness and compassion. “I understand.”

There was a short pause as if Sasha was debating saying anything further. “I...uh...I love you, too.” Sasha said it quickly, as if he was afraid it might be taken as weakness. “Can I call you Grandpa, too?”

Walter’s bright blue eyes misted over with unvoiced emotion. “God, Sasha....”

Sasha waited impatiently, perceiving, quite rightly, what was happening here. He should have heard Walter’s thoughts. Birkoff’s son. His Seymour’s son. Wanted to be his grandson. God, what had he ever done to deserve such an embarrassment of riches?

“C’mere, kid.”

Sasha we nt willingly into Walter’s fierce embrace. He closed his eyes and let the warm feelings wash over him, like a hot summer breeze.

He didn’t even mind being called “kid”.

***

Faith crept into the hallway outside Ariel’s office on little cat’s feet, Chris at her side.

“You go that way,” she whispered, pointing to Ariel’s office. “I’m going downstairs.”

“Okay,” Chris agreed, with the seriousness of someone on a *real* mission.

Minutes later, Faith was spying on Indigo from her carefully-concealed hiding spot.

He looked upset. Well, maybe not as upset as *she* got when she didn’t get her way, but she definitely recognized the feeling.

“Mr. Indigo?” Faith whispered.

Indigo’s head turned at the sound of Faith’s voice, but he couldn’t see her. He rubbed a hand over his face, then raked his long hair with his fingers. “Great, now I’m hearing voices.”

Faith, in a sudden burst of what must have seemed like inspiration, said, “Do you believe in angels?”

Indigo blinked. He must be losing his mind. He thought he heard a very small voice come out of nowhere and ask him if he believed in angels. Okay, as long as he was hearing voices, he might as well be friendly to them.

“Is that what you are, then? An angel?” He tried not to sound too incredulous. After all, he was talking to himself and he really didn’t want to hurt his own feelings.

“A guardian angel,” Faith whispered. She knew what those were. People who looked out for other people. Mom always said that Faith must have more than one because she was constantly on the verge of “big trouble”, and yet, her adventures never veered into misadventure.

“A guardian angel, eh? Well, a guy can always use one of those, can’t he?” On the surface, Indigo seemed to be joking, but there was an underlying current of sadness.

“I’m here to help you,” Faith whispered out into the air.

The words hovered there for a moment, then fell to earth. “Help me with what?” Indigo asked, feeling hope stir in his heart despite himself. Well, he thought, this is the most interesting conversation I’ve ever had with myself. I hope I at least give myself good advice.

Faith almost giggled. She liked Mr. Indigo, and she thought that he and Mme. Dupre liked each other...that way. But when it looked like things had stalled between them, Faith decided to give them a little push. Only thing was, for the plan to work, it took two. Luckily for her, Chris thought it was a mission worthy of a would-be knight.

Trying to sound serious, Faith intoned, “There is someone you like....”

Indigo snorted derisively. At least, he’d always been honest with himself up until now. When had he started to lie to himself? “Oh, come on, man,” he said. “It’s the dreaded “L” word, all right, but it’s the wrong one. I thought you had more guts than that.”

Faith’s fledgling matchmaking heart soared. This was even better than she thought. Mr. Indigo was in love with Mme. Dupre! Wow!

“You have to tell her,” Faith whispered, trying in vain to stifle an excited bubble of laughter.

Indigo was too far gone to notice. “Tell her? I can’t tell her. She’ll think I’m crazy as well as a nuisance.”

“But she feels the same way you do!” Faith inadvertently shouted out of frustration. Indigo’s extraordinary eyes narrowed suddenly. “Allll...right...who’s there?”

Faith tried to scurry away, but Indigo was too fast. He seized her by the wrist and pulled her to a standing position. “What’re you up to, you little minx?”

Faith wriggled, but Indigo’s size and strength were too much for her to overcome. Abruptly sighing, she sat down on the floor, accidentally pulling him with her. When he protested, she said, “Well, you wouldn’t let me go.”

Unassailable logic on her side. Faith always knew what to say. And she had considerable insight for a child her age. However, this was the first time she’d trained those perceptive skills on someone outside the family.

Staring deep into the little girl’s now bright- green eyes, Indigo asked, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Helping.” Faith knew when to cut to the chase.

“By telling lies? Lies can really hurt people.”

“I know,” Faith agreed. “But I’m not lying.”

“About which part?”

“About any part?”

“Oh, right, you’re an angel.”

“A guardian angel. Yeah.”

“And why do you care how I feel about Ar--about anyone?”

Indigo flushed under the sturdy little girl’s renewed scrutiny. “What?”

“I like Mme. Dupre. I want her to be happy.”

"Well, I dunno what you think that’s got to do with me, kid.”

“You lo--like her, too,” Faith said, realizing pushing too hard might have the exact opposite result she desired.

"So? I like lots of people,” Indigo said defensively.

Not like this, you don’t, Faith replied silently. “So...you’re what she needs to make her happy.”

“And you know this because?” Indigo prompted.

“Gosh, anybody would think you didn’t want it to be true,” Faith said grumpily with a decided scowl.

Oh, I do, kid. You have no idea how much. I think that’s what’s scaring me. Now that I’ve had a chance to think about where I want this to go. This goes way beyond desire. This is about love.

God, he wished he’d warned himself before he admitted something like that to himself.

It was about love.