Michael walked outside, each step an effort, each breath harsher than the last. Somehow he made it to the car, but he struggled with opening the car door until he collapsed on the top of the car, his face in his hands. That was how Walter found him a few minutes later.

Walter came up behind Michael as quietly as possible and patted him on the back. "How’d it go in there?" Walter’s voice was the essence of solicitude, and it was all Michael needed to push him over the edge.

He pressed the side of his face against his hands and stared at Walter wordlessly. Walter abruptly grabbed Michael and hugged him, feeling the younger man shudder. "Are you okay?" Walter asked.

He shook his head, his mouth partly open as if he were having difficulty breathing. "Is Kita okay?" Walter nodded. He felt the tension in Michael’s body as he continued to breathe harshly.

"Michael..."

"Take care of her, Walter." Michael’s composure was shaken to the core, and Walter saw him visibly tremble. "I know you will."

"Michael, I’m here for you, too."

"You can’t be, Walter. I understand that. You need to be on her side, you’re like her father now." Michael dragged another breath in somehow, green eyes glittering fiercely with tears he had yet to release.

"What about you, Michael? Who’s on your side?"

Michael turned away, hiding his face against his hands, but Walter refused to release his grip on him. He hugged Michael once more, forcing him to lean on him. "There’s no one on my side. I’m alone. But I get so tired sometimes, Walter..."

"I know."

"Everyone is looking to me to make decisions, everyone leans on me, but who do I lean on? Who’s there for me, Walter?" Michael looked so lost, Walter almost couldn’t bear it.

"Michael, I’m here for you, you know that."

"But you can’t be there for both of us, Walter. Your first loyalty has to be to her. To Kita." Michael acted as if he not only knew this, he expected this. "It’s the way it has to be."

Michael wiped his face with one arm, his wedding band glinting in the fading afternoon light. Walter sighed. "That may be, but you can lean on me any time you like, Michael. My shoulders are broad enough for the two of you. I mean that." Michael hugged Walter. Walter felt something hot and wet against his neck and knew instantly it was the tears that Michael refused to shed. He held Michael tighter, feeling himself tear up.

"We’re family now, Michael, you come to me when you’re feeling bad, okay? You don’t let it get to this point." He clapped Michael on the back several times, struggling not to lose his own composure. Michael tightened his grip on Walter almost convulsively, then released it. He nodded, stepping back from the older man.

He brushed his hair back over his ears. "Where’s Kita now?"

Walter smiled. "Interesting you should ask. We just met Madeline’s, um, friend."

"The doctor?"

Walter nodded. "Yup. Believe it or not, he’s making dinner. Kept muttering something about people not having the sense God gave them or something. I think he wants to talk to us about Sugar’s diet."

"That sounds ominous." Michael had a feeling this was going to be another conversation he would just as soon miss.

***

Meanwhile, in Madeline’s office...Nikita sat across from Madeline, wringing her hands anxiously. "I wish you would let me talk to Michael first."

"Why? Are you afraid you might tell me something he didn’t?"

"No! Madeline, we’re not hiding anything. We did exactly what you told us to."

"Except that you haven’t been sleeping well...you don’t eat...you never told me that no one in the house could cook, Nikita."

Nikita looked guilty as charged. "I don’t have much appetite, Madeline."

"Be that as it may, Nikita. You’re pregnant. You have to eat for the baby’s sake, this has nothing to do with what you want."

Madeline stood up and crossed the room to the rocking chair. She held out her arms to Nikita. "Come here, Nikita. I want to show you something."

She sat in the rocking chair and gently eased Nikita onto her lap. Nikita unconsciously sought her favorite position, pressing her face against Madeline’s chest, searching for her heartbeat. Madeline held Nikita, her arms wrapped around the younger woman. "You see how soothing the rocking motion is?"

Nikita nodded without speaking. Madeline pressed a kiss to Nikita’s forehead. "I want you to buy one of these, Nikita, and I want you to sit with Michael every night. I want you to let him rock you to sleep."

She protested, albeit weakly. "I’m not a child, Madeline."

"No, but you need mothering, Nikita. From all of us. And you’ll be all the stronger for it, you’ll see. You’ll rest easier, your appetite will improve, and your relationship with Michael will be better."

Nikita settled again against Madeline’s body, absorbing her warmth and her serenity. "This does feel nice, Madeline." Madeline smiled peacefully. "Of course."

"Oh, and Nikita..."

"Yes?"

"I’m rescinding my order that you and Michael not make love. That was a dangerous miscalculation on my part. I forgot how different you two were from anyone else. You both need to make love to express your love for each other. It has nothing to do with sex at all."

"I told him that."

"You did?" Madeline smiled as she gazed down at Nikita. She stroked Nikita’s hair softly. "You’re pretty smart, you know that?" Now if we could only get you to eat something...she thought wryly.

Madeline escorted Nikita into the dining room, where they joined Michael, Walter, and Neil Hunter, the doctor who had treated Nikita upon her return from Section. Madeline smiled warmly at Neil, who obviously regarded Madeline with considerable affection. Walter glanced at Michael meaningfully, and Michael nodded imperceptibly. Neil Hunter was somewhat younger than Madeline, perhaps Michael’s age, at most. His hair was dark blond, cropped short, his eyes clear blue, not unlike Nikita’s.

Walter meandered over to where Michael stood, whispering carefully, "He remind you of anyone?" Michael shrugged. "No one in particular, why?"

"You don’t see the resemblance to Jurgen?" Walter asked.

Michael stared at the doctor, who was overtly charismatic and charming, all the traits Michael felt he lacked. "No, he reminds me more of Gray Wellman."

"Ooh, now there’s a blast from the past." Walter hooted gently, trying not to be overheard. Michael seethed inwardly, watching the man charm his wife without even trying. "He seems like a nice guy."

Walter nodded. "Yeah, if you like ‘em fair and pale. You know, he’s younger than I expected. Madeline doesn’t seem to mind, though."

"I’m glad for her." Michael meant it, too. He wanted Madeline to be happy, he wanted her to have a relationship, even a new life, outside of Section. And he wanted her to keep this Gray look-alike far away from his wife.

"Michael?" Walter nudged Michael with his elbow. "You’re glaring. I mean it, you’re staring a hole through the man."

"You think Nikita likes him?"

"Sure, what’s not to like? He’s a nice guy, like you said. He--" Walter did a double-take. "Michael, you’re jealous!"

Michael clenched his jaw so hard it hurt. "Yeah, I think I am."

He walked over to Neil and Madeline, waiting for Madeline to introduce him to Neil. Neil smiled graciously. "So you’re Michael. I’ve heard a lot about you. All good, of course."

"Of course." Michael echoed softly, a small half-smile curving his lips upwards.

Madeline smiled warmly at Michael. "I want you two to get along so badly. My two favorite men."

Walter snorted loudly. "What am I, chopped liver?"

"No, Walter, you’re in a category all by yourself." Walter grinned, temporarily placated by Madeline’s flattery.

Nikita smiled gently at Neil, and Michael tried not to glare at him, as Walter said he’d been doing. He put his arm around Nikita, clearly declaring her as his. But Neil only had eyes for Madeline and never noticed Michael’s gesture.

Nikita looked up at Michael and then followed his line of vision to Neil. There was something familiar about Neil’s general coloring and looks that struck her, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Perhaps Michael was trying to recall who he looked like as well. He had such an intense look about him. Nikita sighed and laid her head on Michael’s shoulder. Michael idly rubbed Nikita’s shoulder, thinking it would be extremely unfortunate if he took an instant dislike to the doctor who was going to be treating Nikita throughout her pregnancy.

Neil smiled at Nikita. "Anyway, Michael, as I was telling your wife, she needs to gain weight. Frankly, I’m appalled at the way she looks."

"You are?" Michael was so surprised, his mouth nearly dropped open.

"Yes, she’s way too thin, and this early in the pregnancy, she should be gaining weight, not losing it. I understand there were complications about a month or so ago, but food should be a real priority at this point. If no one in the household cooks, perhaps you should hire someone."

Madeline nodded. Nikita tried to explain how she felt about someone strange coming into their home, but she was overridden by Walter’s overprotectiveness and Michael’s apparent acquiescence. Neil continued, adding, "You need to eat at least three times a day, Nikita. If morning sickness is a problem, I can put you on medication, but I would prefer not to. If you need to, eat six small meals instead of three larger ones."

"Honestly, I’m not all that hungry, Dr. Hunter."

"Please, call me Neil."

Nikita smiled shyly, and Michael wanted to stab the man who provoked that smile without even trying. Everything that was dark in Michael clambered to the forefront, aching to get at Neil Hunter and wipe the floor with his smooth, fair good looks.

Nikita said politely, "I’m sorry, Dr. Hunter, but I really can’t. If you’re going to be my doctor, I have to call you Dr. Hunter. If you’re going to be Madeline’s friend, I could call you Neil, but otherwise, no."

Michael openly stared at Nikita, wondering where that last bit of insight had come from. She met Michael’s stare and kissed him full on the mouth. "Don’t even go there, Michael. I love you," she whispered into his ear, taking a moment to bite the lower lobe of his ear gently.

He smiled and lowered his head to her waiting mouth, kissing her gently at first, then more urgently. He broke off the kiss, becoming aware that the others were regarding them with fond amusement.

Madeline smiled at Michael, shaking her head. She whispered something to Neil, who laughed openly. "I see you two are newlyweds. That explains a lot."

Michael took exception to his tone. "About what?"

Neil chuckled. "About why you two haven’t been eating regular meals. I’m sure you were occupied with other things."

"As a matter of fact, doctor, we were."

"Anyway, as I was saying, it’s imperative that Nikita begin taking a pre-natal vitamin, and I would like to see her in my office for a check-up as soon as possible. Is this week good for you, Nikita?"

Nikita glanced at Michael, who looked frustratingly neutral, given the other man’s ingratiating manner. "Sure, that’d be fine." She nodded.

Neil never noticed the undercurrents between Michael and himself. He grabbed a handful of papers and gave them to Nikita. "After we eat dinner, which by the way, is a good example of how you should be eating from now on, I’ll go over the basic food groups with you and do a bit of patient education regarding your diet."

Madeline said, "He’s so into his work, I just love it when he talks medicine." That Madeline was taken with Neil Hunter was evident, from the warm glow in her eyes to the heightened color in her cheeks. He was a nice guy, in a bland, white bread kind of way, Michael thought. Too bad he didn’t like him anyway.

"So this is how normal people eat?" Nikita said with a chuckle, eyeing the lavish amount of food spread over the dining room table. "Are you trying to fatten me up all at once, Dr. Hunter?"

Michael grinned at Nikita. "What my wife is struggling to say is how much she appreciates your hospitality, Neil. And you could stand to gain a pound or two, Kita."

A few glasses of wine later, Michael no longer thought of Neil Hunter as the enemy. He was simply a nice guy, who happened to be enamored of Madeline, and who happened to be Nikita’s doctor. It was a bit disconcerting, the fact that he was so good-looking, but it didn’t bother him as much as it did earlier. In fact, nothing bothered him as much as it did earlier. He wondered if he was getting mildly drunk.

Walter leaned over and whispered, "You seem pleasantly sloshed, if I may say so." Michael smiled crookedly and whispered back, "You may."

Nikita nestled close to Michael. "I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk, Michael, that’s a fact," she said softly, not wishing to be overheard. His lips twitched in a genuine smile. "I don’t think I ever have been, doucette." He hiccuped, then laughed.

She smiled over his head at Walter. "I think I like him like this, Walter. Should we keep him?"

Walter nodded. "Absolutely, Sugar."

Michael’s hair fell down around his face, but instead of disheveled, he merely looked disarmingly natural. Even unguarded, for once. Nikita kissed him and closed her eyes, tasting the wine on her own lips. "Mmm, you taste good, Michael."

He chuckled, holding out his glass for another refill. "Can I have some more?"

Madeline smiled warningly at Michael. "I hate to cut anyone off, Michael, but I think you’ve had enough. Trust me, you’ll thank me later."

He blinked. He looked at Nikita, slowly smiling, his green eyes darkening. "What do you suppose she meant by that, Kita?" He stuck out his tongue and licked the rim of the glass, and Nikita blushed as she took his glass away from him. He pouted briefly, his lower lip jutting out slightly in a provocative manner that drove Nikita crazy with longing. "Aw, you’re no fun."

"Yet. The key word is yet, Michael. Hold that thought," she said, whispering to him as she nuzzled his cheek.

Walter laughed and put his arm around Michael, who looked honestly surprised by the gesture. "Why, Walter, I didn’t know you cared."

Walter chuckled as he said in a low voice, "Hey, stud, Madeline just did you a favor, whether you know it or not. Unless you want to have performance anxiety later on..."

Michael opened his eyes wide, covering his mouth with one hand, which he barely managed to hold there. "Oops..." he giggled at Walter.

Madeline had never seen Michael drunk. In fact, she had never seen him drink anything except when directed to on a mission. This was an interesting turn of events, but the fact was, it made him a bit easier to deal with at a difficult time. So perhaps it was for the better.

Neil seemed amused by Michael’s behavior. He liked Michael, and he thought that Michael and Nikita were evenly matched. Michael so dark, Nikita so fair. Shadow and light. Even their personalities were like that. Nikita as sunny as her fairness compelled. Michael as saturnine as his darkness implied. He hoped that Michael liked him as well, and not just because he was going to be Nikita’s doctor. He hadn’t told anyone yet, but he planned to ask Madeline to marry him.

Michael couldn’t help but giggle. Everything seemed funny, all of a sudden. He wondered if this was what losing control did to someone. He never drank because he knew he disliked being out of control. Falling in love had been hard for him because of his difficulty in relinquishing control. But falling in love with Nikita had been beyond his control, from the beginning, and even as he resisted its pull, the magnet that was Nikita drew him closer.

He smiled at Nikita. His eyes almost fever-bright, he gradually crept closer and closer to her, staring at her mouth, anticipating what that kiss would be like. Nikita liked the unguarded look of Michael this way. He was so intensely focused on her, he never saw the others leave the table. She reached out with her finger and stroked his mouth. He caught her finger and kissed it, then pressed it against his mouth and licked it. She felt the pang all the way to her toes. "Oh...we’d better not start something we can’t finish."

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, abruptly realizing the others had gone. "Where’d everybody go?"

"I think they thought we wanted to be alone."

He considered that. A lazy grin came to his mouth, parting it sensually. "I wonder why."

"Michael, we’d better go. It’s already getting dark, and Birkoff’s alone in the house."

Michael sobered instantly, and he stood up too quickly, a bit unsteady on his feet. "Um...I hope Walter is driving."

"I’ll go find him."

***

Madeline caught Nikita outside the entrance to the dining room. "Walter’s waiting outside in the car, Nikita. I hope you enjoyed dinner, and I hope you liked Neil."

"Almost as much as you do, Madeline." Nikita smiled graciously, ready to take her leave and collect Michael.

Madeline stopped Nikita with a hand on her arm. "One last thing, Nikita. I realize that I kept you here too late, and there is no way for you to buy a rocking chair tonight. So I donated mine. Walter has it outside. When you buy your own, you can return mine."

Nikita leaned over and kissed Madeline on the cheek. Madeline held her a moment and stroked her hair back from her face, as she’d seen Michael do so many times. "You’re going to be just fine, Nikita. Just give it a little more time."

Nikita went back to the dining room and found Michael asleep with his head down on the table. "So much for romance..." she chuckled to herself.

Walter pushed Michael’s barely-conscious body into the back seat of the car with Nikita. "Here, Sugar, I think this belongs to you." He grinned at her wickedly. "Don’t expect to get much use out of it tonight, though."

She suppressed a smile. "Now, now, Walter, that wasn’t a very fatherly remark."

"Hey, it’s been a long day, Sugar. I slip up every once in a while." He pulled Michael back into a sitting position, and Michael’s head flopped against Nikita’s shoulder. He stirred briefly, but only to snuggle closer to her.

"He is kinda sweet this way, Walter." She studied Michael’s face, now relaxed and unguarded in repose.

"Sweet, yeah. Harrumph. Sweet, my Aunt Fanny. He didn’t get to be a Class 5 cold op by being sweet, honey, and don’t you forget it," Walter admonished her.

"We’re not in Section anymore, Walter." She felt compelled to remind Walter of that fact now and again, and today seemed a particularly good time.

"Yeah, well, he does look kinda tame at the moment, doesn’t he?"

Nikita smiled, her heart expanding to include the love she felt for all the men in her life now. Walter grinned as he went around to the driver’s side of the car. "Anyway, I put him back there for a reason."

He sat down and started the car. An evil smile crossed his lips as he adjusted the rearview mirror. "If he throws up, he’s all yours, Sugar."

***

Meanwhile...Birkoff grabbed Josephine in his arms and hugged her. The kitten protested at being held so tightly, but Birkoff ignored her. "Sorry, Josie, but you’re the only friend I got at the moment."

He had all the lights burning in the house, figuring that might help keep him from thinking about how dark it was outside. Night had finally fallen, and there was no one in the house but him. He knew the others were on their way home, eventually, but he hadn’t heard from Madeline recently. Depending on what condition Michael and Nikita were in when they were picked up, that could be a good sign or a bad one. He petted the kitten.

"Would you like some milk, Josie?" he asked the kitten, opening the refrigerator. The kitten took the opportunity to leap out of Birkoff’s arms, bolting into the other room.

Birkoff sighed. At least, Josephine was company. He missed the others when they weren’t there. "Walter was right, I need to get a life." He ran a hand over his face. But what kind of a life did he want? Need? He didn’t know yet. He had never dreamed of being outside Section. Ever. Never mind during the years when he might still be attractive enough to someone to form a friendship, or even a love affair.

Well, he thought, at least this is a productive line of thought. Instead of worrying about the past, now I’m worrying about the future. He chuckled. He supposed it was a major improvement.

***

Birkoff heard the car outside and breathed a sigh of relief. Good, they came home before I lost it entirely.

Walter and Nikita were walking towards the house, each with an arm around Michael, holding him up. "I thought he was just mildly sloshed, Sugar. How many drinks did he have, anyway?"

"On..ly...3," Michael slurred, holding up two fingers.

Nikita glared at Walter. "He doesn’t drink, Walter. Ever. He has zero tolerance. Plus he’s physically exhausted. I’m surprised he can stand up, much less walk."

Michael grinned crookedly at Nikita. "So’m I."

Nikita said sternly, "Michael, you’re going straight to bed. And you’re going to go to sleep, understand? Even if I have to sit on you."

"Zat sounds...like f-fun...Kee-tah." He chuckled.

Walter looked at Nikita strangely. "Is it just me or is his accent getting stronger?"

"No, Walter, it’s not your imagination. It’s cause he’s tired. Or drunk. Or both."

"Ha, then I’m surprised he even remembers to speak English right now."

"Me, too..." Michael said with a mischievous half-smile.

They had to help him up the steps, and Birkoff watched with considerable amusement from the doorway. "I didn’t know Michael drank," he commented to Nikita.

Both Nikita and Walter said at the same time, "He doesn’t."

"Then this is what?" Birkoff backed up as Walter threatened him with a fierce look.

"Okay, okay, I never saw a thing."

Michael clapped his hands around Birkoff’s shoulders, seemingly delighted to see him. "Zey-more!"

Birkoff let Michael embrace him, glancing curiously at Nikita, who was trying desperately to hold back laughter. Birkoff looked so uncomfortable, but Michael was so comical like this.

"Uh, thanks, Michael." Birkoff held himself stiffly.

Michael suddenly dissolved into tears, clutching at Birkoff. "Hey, I love you, man."

Walter groaned. "And that is the downside of drinking, Birkoff, and don’t you ever forget it. From laughter to tears in roughly twenty minutes." He shook his head.

"And you thought it was cute, Sugar." Walter tsk-tsked at Nikita.

She smiled weakly. "I still do, Walter. It’s part of why I love him."

"God, he’s never drinking again, if I can help it." Walter helped her drag Michael away from Birkoff, and together they assisted him upstairs.

Walter stood in the doorway to the master bedroom. "You want me to help you undress him, Sugar?"

Nikita laughed. "No, Walter, I think I can manage."

"You vixen...that’s how you ended up in this predicament in the first place, y’know. Fooling around with your sweetie over there." He smiled warmly, letting Nikita know he was kidding her. "You call me if you need anything, y’hear?"

She nodded wearily. "I’m tired myself, Walter. I don’t think I can hold out much longer."

"Oh, and by the way, Sugar...the rocker’s in the trunk of the car." He winked at her. "But it seems like you don’t need to be rocked to sleep tonight, anyway. Will tomorrow be soon enough to bring it up?"

"Sure, Walter."

Nikita closed the door after Walter, and turned back to look at her husband, sleeping peacefully on the bed where Walter had left him. She walked over to the end of the bed and started to remove Michael’s boots. They were on so tight, she nearly fell over, trying to get them off. She pulled his socks off and threw them on the floor next to his boots. Now for the hard part, she thought. He would be wearing leather.

She took off her own boots, padding into the bathroom in sock feet. She washed her face and brushed her teeth, absorbing the fact that her reflection looked less than wonderful at the moment. Oh, well. She peeled off her leather pants and dropped them in the corner. She yawned and stretched her arms behind her neck. Fluffing her T-shirt over her thighs, she removed her underwear and put on a fresh pair of panties to sleep in.

After clicking off the bathroom light, she walked back to the bed. Walter had laid Michael on top of the covers, but she needed to finish undressing him before she could climb into bed on her side. She knelt on the bed, unbuckling Michael’s pants carefully, not that she thought there was any chance in hell of waking him at this point.

She opened the zipper to his pants, and suddenly Michael’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. "What are you doing?"

"Undressing you." She regarded him fondly, wondering vaguely how long he’d been awake.

He started to get up, but fell back onto the bed, groaning. "Oh, God...my head feels like it exploded..."

"Wait till morning, Michael, it gets even better," she said, trying not to sound amused.

"What’s so funny, you sadist?" he asked softly, evidently in an effort to avoid making his head pound any harder than it already did.

"You are." She snickered, unable to suppress her laughter any longer.

He crawled slowly on his hands and knees towards her, wincing with every inch as his head ached and throbbed. He sat up, slowly, moaning . "So this is what being drunk is like?"

"More like the aftermath, actually." She chuckled, watching his expression change from a pained grimace to a scowl.

"Thanks for your sympathy."

"I’ll have you know I’ve been very nice to you. Ask Walter. I said you were so sweet this way...but he’s having a little trouble appreciating that aspect of your winning personality." She sat on the edge of the bed, gently, so as not to cause Michael any more pain. Gradually, she shifted her position, sitting behind him. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him back into her lap, his head resting against her chest.

She stroked his hair gently with her fingertips, taking care not to make any sudden or jarring movements. He looked up at her briefly. "That feels good."

"Want me to get a cool cloth? Or some Ibuprofen?"

"No...this is fine." He sighed. She pressed a soft kiss to his hair.

"You need to get out of those clothes. Think you can do it on your own?"

"Um...if I say no, will you help me?" He grinned up at her.

"I was about to take your pants off when you stopped me, Michael. What do you think? I wanted to have my wicked way with you while you were dead to the world? Next time we make love, I want you awake and able to remember it."

He chuckled, then groaned. "Ow...that might not be for a while yet."

"I know."

"You don’t mind?" he asked hesitantly.

"How can I mind, Michael? I’m gonna force you to make it up to me when you recover...trust me." She smiled against his hair, resting her chin on top of his head very cautiously.

She closed her eyes and kissed the top of his head. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Kita." He raised one of her hands from around his middle and kissed it.