Nikita walked through Section toward Birkoff's station. She glanced up at Operation's glass-walled office. Michael was there, standing tensely in front of Madeleine and Operations. All of them were listening to Owens, an operative not long out of training, give a report.

Nikita glanced away. She didn't envy Owens. Some of the hardest moments of her life had been spent in that office.

Something, perhaps the tenseness in Michael that had registered to her, made her look back up at the group above her.

Michael's hands were clenched into fists at his sides and she could see, as Owens went on with his report, that Michael's face had gone completely white.

She watched in shock as suddenly Michael leapt upon Owens, attacking him, his hands around the other man's throat.

"Michael!" she called out, as she and two men from security dashed up the stairs to the tower office.

In seconds, they were at the doorway, Nikita a little ahead of the men. All three stopped at the threshold, their faces registering their shock.

Michael was down on one knee, with his hands in the air. Operations had one hand on the back of his collar and the other held a pistol to Michael's neck. Owens lay sprawled, gasping on the floor, where he had collapsed after Michael had reluctantly released him.

Michael was panting, too, his chest heaving, his eyes blazing with his just barely controlled anger.

Operations looked up at the three in the doorway. "It's O.K. Everything's under control." He nodded his head at the younger operative. "Jenkins, Bowman," he addressed the Security team, "Take Owens with you and get out."

He looked up at Nikita and their eyes locked. "Nikita, you stay."

He withdrew the gun from Michael's neck and stood back. Michael got to his feet slowly, still struggling for control.

Owens was hauled to his feet by the security men, who escorted him out. Madeleine, who had been cooly leaning back against wall observing it all, looked disgusted at the emotional display.

Nikita looked from Michael to Operations to Madeleine, and then back to Michael again.

"What's going on?" she asked.

Madeleine crossed the room toward her. "You and Michael have an assignment," she said. "Go to Birkoff and get a location. You're going to find a lost mother and child."

Nikita and Michael looked stunned by this, but Operations was shocked, too.

"Are you sure that's wise?" he said through gritted teeth. "Michael's out of control as it is..."

Madeleine gazed back at him calmly. "Yes, that's true. But he'll be even more out of control if we don't let him go."

Michael closed his eyes and let out a breath. He looked at Madeleine. "Thank you," he said.

"Two conditions, Michael," Madeleine went on. "Nikita goes with you. You'll need the emotional support."

Michael lowered his head and nodded. He was anxious to be on the move. "And the second condition?" he asked tensely.

"Remember that nothing has changed. Ascertain their safety and then come back." Her voice was almost kind and held a hint of regret.

"This isn't a familiy reunion, Michael, as much as you would like it to be," she said.

"Of course," answered Michael. His face was still pale and Niktia knew he was shaken, almost as if he had been attacked by Owens, and not the other way around.

Nikita had never seen Michael like this, so upset. No, she amended. She had see him like this once, when Simone had died....

Michael grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the door. "Let's go," he said.

Nikita followed him out of the room. His strode quickly toward Birkoff's station, his pace so fast that Nikita could barely keep up with him.

"What's going on, Michael? What's wrong?" she said, pulling him by the arm around to face her.

"Nikita, please," he answered, his voice shaking. "We have to go, NOW. I'll explain later..."

"All right," Niktia relented.

They arrived at Birkoff's station, the young computer genius regarding Michael warily. He couldn't remember ever seeing the stoic Michael lose his cool like that.

"The trackers have been activated," he reported. "They're still on the move."

"Do you have a location yet?" asked Michael tersely.

Birkoff nodded and pointed to a dot on his screen. "They're on the highway, traveling west away from the military base."

Michael nodded. They were alive and well enough to be driving in a car. He let himself relax just a little. "O.K., let's go."

He rushed out, again at a pace that left Nikita breathless.

They were silent in the car. Nikita decided to wait until Michael was calmer to ask any more questions. She hoped he would tell her on his own.

Something occured to her suddenly and she turned to Michael. "We didn't see Walter before we left. Michael, we have no weapons..."

"No! no guns!" He practically shouted. "No one's going to get hurt, you understand?"

"Yes, Michael.."

"I'm sorry," he said, turning to her. They were at a stoplight. He put his hand on hers and squeezed her fingers tightly.

"I'm glad you're here, Nikita," he said quietly.

Nikita was too surprised to say anything. She merely squeezed his hand back.

The light changed to green and he again drove with both hands on the wheel.

Much later, the scanning device in the dashboard finally beeped encouragingly. Nikita studied the screen for a moment.

"Turn left, here!" she ordered Michael. "There they are.."

Michael pulled into the lane a few cars behind their target. Nikita realized the vehicle they had been looking for was a blue station wagon. The occupants were a woman and a small boy.

What the hell kind of mission is this? thought Nikita to herself.

************

It was no use, thought Julie. They were still behind her. She couldn't shake the car that had been following them for the last two hours.

She read the sign at the turn-off and made a decision. She jerked the wheel sharply to the right and pulled into the small parking lot, screeching to a halt before the gates.

"Why are we stopping, Mommy?" said the small boy. He held his favorite companion, Benny the Bear, in his lap.

She quickly released his seatbelt for him and flung open his door. "We're going to run in the park, Honey," she said. "I want you to run as fast as you can. Show Mommy how fast you can run, O.K.?"

His eyes lit up. Usually she was telling him to slow down, not run. He was tired of being in the car and was delighted to do what she had requested.

They stood on the pathway at the entrance to the park and dashed into the gardens together.

The gardens were a maze of paths and trees and flower beds arranged in hidden walled "rooms", created by the high hedges and fences surrounding its different sections.

Maybe I can lose them here, Julie thought.

"Run, Darling, run!" She encouraged him.

They raced on further into the garden, the child just a few steps in front of her as she held his hand.

It was a chilly, late February day. Only some brave crocuses and early daffodils were up, the trees still dormant along with the roses, azaleas and tulips that would blaze here in a few short weeks, attracting visitors.

The garden held no appeal now, and was deserted. There's no one to help, thought Julie.

The boy tugged at her hand. "Faster, Mommy." He sensed her urgency and was eager to play this new game. He laughed a child's high, light-hearted laugh.

He was four years old and strong and sturdy. Already he had broad shoulders and long legs, even though he was small for his age. His silky, dark brown, almost black, hair curled in waves around his pale angelic face.

He had a full-lipped, beautifully shaped mouth and long lashes setting off hazel eyes, an intriguing blend of green and brown. The eyes tilted up a bit at the corners, revealing his Asian heritage. He had a slight cleft in his chin and dimples which appeared when he smiled, like he did now.

He was her baby. She would die if anything happened to him.

"Race you, Mommy!" he yelled. He pulled his hand from hers and flung the bear he carried on the path and zipped away from her.

"Michael, no!" Julie dashed after him, trying to keep her panic from overwhelming her. She chased after him.

She heard the sound of footsteps behind her, but could see no one. Down the path they ran, she in terror, he in sheer joy and delight.

Her breath came in laboring gasps. Usually she could keep up with him; today it seemed he was flying.

After trying for years to have a child, he was her first and only. He was hers, even though she had not given birth to him. He could not have been any more a part of her than if she had bourne him. He might not be of her body, but he was her heart and her soul.

She ran faster. He was just a few feet ahead of her on the path.The trees here grew thicker and the path narrowed and twisted, curving ahead into darker woods.

Her child pumped his legs, sprinting around the curve, and was gone from her sight.

A chill went through her. "Michael!" she yelled. "Michael, slow down!"

A soft voice in her ear from behind her made her jump. She hadn't heard the man approaching.

"Come with me, please," he said.

************

Julie tried to run, but he pulled her back against him by her coat sleeve, her arm in an implacable, if not painful, grip. Julie gasped in fear and struggled to free herself.

"Let me go!" she gasped out. She felt her heart pounding in her chest and she couldn't get her breath.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said softly.

She looked into his face. Green eyes blazed into hers. There was an intensity there that alarmed her. This man was not relaxed and serene inside, as his calm voice would indicate. Her panic level rose higher.

She looked down the path. Where was her baby? She knew she couldn't fight this man with the determined eyes, nor could she run. She decided to beg.

"All right, I'll go with you," she said, panting. She looked into his face again and stopped struggling.

"I'll do anything you say. ANYTHING," she pleaded. "Please, just don't hurt my baby! Please!" she sobbed.

"Mommy!"

She looked up the path and saw a beautiful blonde woman coming toward them, holding her child's hand. From his other hand dangled the bear. They approached, smiling.

"Mommy, this nice lady found Benny..."

Benny the Bear was his constant companion. Michael never went to sleep without Benny. The bear and his name were the only things the child had brought with him from his life before he was theirs. Julie had no clue what that life had been like. He had been eight months old when they adopted him.

"Her name's Nikita," said the younger Michael.

"How nice, Darling," Julie said, trying to smile through the tears that she blinked away hastily.

He was an intelligent child. "Mommy, why are you crying?"

"I'm just so happy to see our old friends," she said, slipping her arm around Michael's waist. Her smile brightened. "We're going to go with them now, O.k., Honey?"

She gave Michael a pleading look, which said, See, I'm co-operating.

Michael could feel her trembling, but his attention was not on Julie, but on the boy. He stood transfixed, staring at him. His son. His and Simone's.

"What's your name?" said the younger Michael.

"Michael," said the older one. He, too, like Julie, was having trouble getting his breath. The word came out almost a gasp.

"That's my name, too." The boy smiled. "This is Benny," he said, showing him the worn and well-used bear.

"Hi, Benny," he said, his voice catching in his throat.

He was already acquainted with Benny. He remembered the day he and Simone had found the bear in a toy store shortly after they found out Simone was pregnant.

Benny the bear, then nameless and new, had delighted Simone, who insisted on buying him for the new baby. Benny had been in Baby Michael's crib every night that he and Simone had had their child with them, those precious few months....

"Can I hold him?" asked Michael, reaching out for the bear.

"Sure," agreed the child, who generously handed him to his father.

Nikita stepped closer to Michael and Julie. She still held tightly to the little boy's hand. Her eyes were soft as she looked at the man gripping the bear.

"Let's go," she said.

They walked back up the path, the child smiling. He was the only one of the four who didn't have tears in his eyes.

************

Benny the Bear rested peacefully in his usual place against his owner's small chest as he slept on the bed in the hotel room where Michael had taken them. The boy had fallen asleep shortly after they had arrived.

Julie sat next to her child, stroking his hair. She pressed her body up close to him, trying to shield him from the gaze of the other two.

Michael and Nikita sat side by side on the edge of the other double bed, staring at them.

With little Michael asleep, there was no need for Julie to go on pretending everything was fine. Tears rolled down her face.

"We're not going to hurt you," said Michael again.

"What do you want?" Julie choked out. She was not reassured by his words.

Michael leaned forward and looked into her eyes. "We just want to talk to you. We need to ask you some questions.."

Julie bit her lip and choked back a sob. "You know I don't know anything. I don't have any information to give you on any of the secret projects my husband works on..."

She took a shaky breath and went on. "That's why you kidnapped us, isn't it? To get the information out of him..."

Nikita looked at Michael to see if this was what it was really about.

He met her eyes and shook his head. "No," he told Julie.

Julie didn't believe him. She leaned forward and spoke rapidly. "Look, I've got nothing to bargain with, I know, but why not leave him here..."

She caressed the child's shoulder. "You don't need two hostages. My husband will co-operate with you, I swear!"

Her lower lip trembled. She started to cry again. "Please, please, let my baby go..."

"It's O.k, I promise you, no one's going to hurt you," soothed Michael. He reached out to touch Julie's hand reassuringly and she shrank back from him.

"Where is your husband now?" asked Nikita. From what little Michael had told her, she knew Julie was married to a high ranking officer in Army Intelligence.

It was not unusual for families of such men to be targeted. The other side used any means it could to gather intel- kidnapping, bribery, blackmail, extortion.

Julie was right to be suspicious of them. She probably lived her life wary of strangers and careful of her surroundings, attuned to anything out of the ordinary.

"I don't know where he is now," said Julie, her voice shaking. "He's TDY out of the country, that's all I know, I swear.."

"It's all right. Don't worry about that now..." said Michael. Her husband's absence had obviously made Julie feel more vunerable, and therefore more alert and sensitive to any kind of threat.

"Where were you going? Why did you leave town suddenly with ... your boy?" Michael asked her. He needed to know what had frightened her into running.

Owens was the new operative assigned to keep track of Julie and her family. Just a few short days after he had begun his monitoring of them, Julie had taken little Michael and fled, destination unknown.

The thought of his child out there, lost somewhere, targeted by terrorists, unprotected, had enraged Michael so much that before he knew what he was doing, his hands were around the incompetent Owens' throat.

Now Michael needed to know what had spooked Julie into fleeing. Who had threatened her?

Julie was confused by his question. "Why did I run?" she asked, surprised. "I ran because you followed me! Because that man of yours tailed us, stalked us..."

Michael closed his eyes. They were being targeted by someone. His child HAD been in danger.

"Julie," Michael said gently. "Who was this man? Did you see him? Can you describe him?"

Julie was beginning to trust that Michael's promise not to hurt them might be genuine. She looked at him uncertainly.

"I don't need to describe him. I have pictures...." She reached for her purse and pulled out a packet containing a stack of photographs. She held them out to Michael.

Michael took them from her. The roll of film had been shots of his child playing in the park. From the prints, the small face smiled up at him. It was Simone's smile, he realized.

He shuffled through the pictures. His son on the swings, playing in the sandbox, sliding down the slide...

He stared, transfixed by how beautiful this child was. Grief clutched at his insides, as the magnitude of all that he had lost struck him again like a blow. The pictures blurred for a moment, as he blinked back the tears.

"This man here," said Julie. She pointed to a face in the background. "He kept showing up everywhere we went..."

"And you got scared because he followed you, and you ran.." said Nikita.

Julie nodded. "Yes..."

Michael blinked harder. He tore his eyes away from the precious face in the picture and focused closely on the image of the man.

Michael knew him. He recognized the stalker as being the new and hapless recruit, Owens.

I'm going to kill him, thought Michael.

************

The anger boiled up in Michael again. He leapt to his feet and began pacing, stopping in front of the window with his back to the others. He took some deep breaths, trying to control his rage.

Nikita stood up and joined him, putting one arm around his shoulders. She leaned her head close to him and kept her voice low so Julie would not hear her.

"Michael, it's O.K.," whispered Nikita. "She's not in danger from anyone. It was Section surveillance..."

Michael looked at her and sighed. "She doesn't know that. Julie will keep running if she thinks we're terrorists," Michael whispered back. "We have to have a cover story for why we're here."

Nikita nodded. The truth, or part of it, would do, she decided.

"Let me handle it, Michael," she said, squeezing his shoulder. "Trust me.."

He nodded and they turned back to Julie, who had been watching them curiously during their interchange.

Nikita began. "Julie, we're sorry. We didn't mean to scare you. We.. we hired that man to check on you, to find out how little Michael was doing...."

"The man who followed me, he's a detective?" asked Julie.

"Yes.." Nikita answered.

"Why? Who are you?" Julie looked from on to the other, then stared at Michael hard as he stood gazing at the sleeping boy.

She saw what she hadn't seen before. "He's yours, isn't he?" she said quietly.

"Yes," Michael barely whispered.

This news frightened Julie, too. It was every adoptive parent's nightmare.

"What were you going to do? Do you want to ... take him from me?" asked Julie, feeling like she couldn't breathe.

"No, I would never do that," Michael reassured her. "I just wanted to see him. To know how he was doing. To make sure he was all right...."

He looked at her intently and she could see the distress in eyes, the pain etched in his face.

"When you ran, when you dissappeared with him, I thought I'd go out of my mind with worry..." Michael told her.

Julie sighed in relief. She could understand his anxieties completely. But she still had a little anxiety of her own.

"Then you and your wife," she said, looking at Nikita, "You don't want to get legal custody?"

Michael shook his head. He wanted to be with his son more than anything, but that was impossible.

"No," he told her. "Things are fine the way they are. He.. he belongs with you." The words were hard for him to say.

"I just wanted to keep track of him, to make sure he was all right," Michael said.

Julie heaved a sigh and stood up from the bed, walking toward Michael. She tentatively reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder.

She smiled and said, "So, I guess we both had a good scare, huh?"

Michael smiled wanly back and looked relieved. "Yes, I guess we did."

Julie looked back at the the little boy on the bed, then turned again to look at Michael.

"Why don't you go sit next to him?" she said softly.

Michael hesitated for a moment, then walked to the bed and carefully settled himself beside the sleeping child. He stroked a lock of the boy's dark hair. It was glossy like Simone's and curly like his own.

Little Michael stirred in his sleep and snuggled against him. The bear was squeezed between them, uncomplaining.

Nikita watched Michael with his child and blinked back her tears. So many mysteries were solved now for her, so many puzzling questions about Michael were answered.

This little boy was why Michael appeared so fiercely loyal to Section. Why he pushed himself to do impossible things, to perform, to be a machine. Mistakes were not an option.

With his child's safety held over his head, for Michael, his statement to Nikita was true -- in Section, there was no free will. He had to obey, because to do anything else would be unthinkable.

Little Michael sighed and stretched, then opened his eyes. He sat up, blinking, in the middle of the bed.

He looked up to see the nice, pretty lady smiling at him.

"Hi, Nikita!" he said.

"Hi, Sweetie," Nikita said.

He turned to the man next to him. "Hi, Michael."

"Hi." Michael gazed lovingly at him, trying to memorize his features. He wanted to remember this moment, this connection.

Little Michael, once awake, was not able to stay still for long. He stood up on the bed and started to jump up and down enthusiastically.

The adults smiled at him indulgently. "Mommy!" he yelled, still bouncing.

"Yes, Darling?" said Julie.

He bounced more wildly than before. "Can we go to McDonald's now?"

He bounced a few more times. "And can I get another Happy Meal with the Batman toys, can I, please?" Batman was his favorite.

"Yes, Darling, you can have all the Batman toys ever made in the whole world.." answered Julie, her love for her baby overwhelming her.

Little Michael crowed in delight and bounced in circles on the bed in four year old ecstasy.

They all laughed. Growing dizzy with his efforts, the boy teetered and began to fall over. Michael caught him in his arms. He hugged the small body against him tightly.

The boy put his arms around his father's neck and hugged him fiercely back.

"Can we get ice cream sundaes, too?" he asked, pushing for the advantage he knew instinctively that he had with this man.

"Anything for you, little one, mon petit," whispered Michael to his son. "Anything for you."

************

The outing was over all too soon. Michael and Nikita stood by their car in the deserted parking lot of the gardens, where they had returned Julie and Michael to their car.

They watched the blue station wagon pull out, Julie and Michael waving goodbye to them, the boy's small hand the only part of him visible above the back seat. They waved back until the car could no longer be seen, disappearing into the traffic on the highway.

Michael clutched the packet of pictures to his chest. Julie had shoved them into his hand when she hugged him good-bye. He had received another fierce hug from little Michael and a kiss from Benny the Bear before they left.

He sighed. His son was alive and safe, loved and protected. He was enjoying a happy, normal childhood. Michael felt he should feel some satisfaction in that, that he should be happy.

But Michael didn't feel happy. He felt lost, bereft, empty.

"He's beautiful, Michael," said Nikita.

Michael didn't answer, afraid that any words he uttered would not make it past the lump in his throat. He leaned back against the car, crossing his arms across his chest. He seemed in no hurry to leave this place where he had spent a few moments with his son.

Nikita leaned against the car next to him, content to wait patiently for Michael to recover enough to speak again.

After a moment, he said, "I'll have to be satisfied with knowing he's all right. I probably won't see him again. There can be no connection between us..."

Nikita linked her arm with his. "You're wrong, Michael," she said. "You already have a strong connection with him..."

She smiled a little. "Didn't you notice how much he admired you? How he looks up to you as his hero?"

Michael turned to her, surprised. "I don't understand. How do you know that?"

She smiled wider. "Weren't you paying attention, Michael? Little Michael is crazy about Batman.."

"Batman?" said Michael, confused.

"Analyze it, Michael. What's Batman's appeal?" said Nikita.

"Let's see," she said, counting each point on her fingers. "Secret identity, underground Batcave, black clothes, wears a mask, fights crime-- it all fits!"

She grinned at him. "It's you! You're Batman!"

She was delighted when Michael smiled a little. He shook his head. "I'm not Batman, Nikita. I don't have the things he has.."

"Oh?" she said. "You mean, like a butler and a side-kick?" She paused, her mouth turning up at corners in a sly smile.

"We can always get Walter to wear a tux and put Birkoff in some tights..." she teased.

Michael laughed. "I wasn't talking about those things, Nikita," he said.

"No, Michael, absolutely not," she said in mock horror. "I'll let you have a cape, maybe, but I refuse to sew you a mask with little bat ears on it..."

Michael took her hand in his and turned her to face him. "I didn't mean that, either," he said softly.

He touched her cheek gently. "I hear Batman has a companion, a beautiful woman who helps him.."

"You mean Batwoman?"

"Yes. I wish I had that.."

Nikita squeezed his hand and said softly, "I'm here, Michael."

Their eyes met and they embraced. Michael kissed her very lightly at first, unsure he had a right to go further after all the painful past history between them.

Nikita pulled his head down to hers and deepened the kiss, offering him all the solace she could, hoping what she had to offer would heal some of his pain. She hoped the kiss would tell him without words that the past was forgiven and all her resentment had washed away in this new understanding of why he did what he had to do.

Michael kissed her back, clinging to her, taking the comfort she had to give. He realized he needed her desperately, like a drowning man needs air.

The kiss ended but he didn't let her go. He stood holding her tightly against him, drawing comfort for his grief from her embrace.

Nikita thought she felt the wetness of tears on the cheek that was pressed tightly to hers.

After a time they got in the car and drove back to Section. This time, he didn't let go. When he took her hand in his, he held it there all the way back.

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