Michael turned his head and stared into his wife's tearful eyes. Somehow her eyes seemed even more blue than usual. He hated himself for thinking it, but he was glad that her eyes didn't, couldn't remind him of Luc.

"They coded him three times, doucette," he whispered hoarsely. He hadn't meant to say that. He wanted to keep her as far away as possible from the tragedy that was unfurling all too quickly. He cursed himself for being so weak that he needed Nikita's support and reassurance above anything else.

But he should have known that Nikita wouldn't see it that way. "You're braver than I am, Michael, handling all this alone till now," she said. Not for the first time, Michael marveled at the ease with which she read his mind.

She sat down on the hard plastic chair next to him. Medical staff hurried about their rounds without giving the two of them more than a cursory glance. "Did you give them Luc's medical history?"

"I did," Neil said, striding purposefully towards the couple. "I won't lie to you. It was touch and go for a while…" He stopped when Michael buried his face in his hands. He had never seen the man so openly distraught before. But then he recalled the way that Michael held himself accountable for everything, even things far, far beyond his control.

Nikita instinctively pulled Michael into her arms before nodding at Neil. "Go on," she said, her voice clogged with the tears that she was valiantly holding back.

"They've stabilized him for now. We'll know a little more in a few hours. But you can see him. For a minute or two."

"Thanks, Neil. You've been such a good friend to us, and to do this-" That was the limit of Nikita's own endurance. Her voice broke and she lost her battle with composure. She wept quietly, the sounds of her distress muffled as she was suddenly clasped tightly to Michael's chest.

Neil couldn't say anything. All he could do was hope that they had found Luc in time. He was a fighter like his father, and his youth and normal resilience could only work in his favor.

A few moments of awkward silence passed before Neil frowned and asked, "You didn't come by yourself, did you, Nikita?"

"No," she said, wiping her face with the backs of her hands. "Adam brought me."

Michael's head shot up. "Adam? He's here?"

"Yes."

"Where is he? Why did he leave you alone? He-"

"-was parking the car, Dad." Adam leaned on the wall in a seemingly nonchalant manner, but Michael could sense the tension that lay beneath the surface. God, they were so alike sometimes.

"Where's Jazz?"

"At school. Why?"

"Call him," Michael commanded huskily. "You're going to need him if…things don't go…that well."

Adam's large brown eyes looked almost liquid as he fought back tears. "Is Luc going to die, Dad?"

"I hope not," Michael replied, but his bleak expression made it clear that he wasn't sure of the outcome.

When they were finally allowed to visit Luc, they took turns sitting by his bedside. Outside Luc's room, Neil raked a hand through his already disheveled dark blond hair and said, "I don't know if I could do what they're doing, Ned. If that was my kid…"

Ned burrowed deeper into Neil's embrace and murmured, "You're stronger than you think you are. Besides…" He kissed Neil lightly on the lips. "You've got me now."

"Yeah." Neil wrapped his arms around the younger man and kissed him back. "I do."

Adam was too strung out to sleep. To look at him, he might have seemed relaxed. With his body slumped all the way down in the uncomfortable chair, Adam appeared almost disconnected from what was going on. But Jazz knew better.

Jazz rubbed Adam's shoulder affectionately, and Adam sighed heavily before clasping his lover's hand in return. "He's just a little guy, Nick," Adam whispered. "It's not fair."

"I know."

Suddenly Adam sat straight up and almost knocked the chair over in the process of getting out of it. "Hey!"

"What?"

"His hand moved."

"Uh huh."

"It did. I swear."

When Luc's eyes, so like his father's, eventually fluttered open, the first person he saw was his brother. "Adam?"

"Luc! You okay, kid?" Adam blinked away tears and stared at the eight-year old in disbelief.

Jazz ran out the door and found Michael. "He's awake! He talked to Adam!"

Michael closed his eyes. "Thank God," he said softly.

Knowing how strongly Michael believed in his faith, Jazz could only agree. "Yeah. Looks like God was listening."

Michael smiled for the first time in hours. "Oh, He's always listening, Jazz. Sometimes we just don't hear Him."

"He's going to be okay?" Nikita asked tearfully. Michael gripped her arm even more tightly than before as he waited impatiently for the doctor's response.

"Yep," the avuncular older man answered. "But he's going to need a great deal of support over the next few months."

"Of course," Michael said tersely. He would watch over Luc like a hawk. He would make sure the eight-year-old boy respected his new limitations. He would…

…come back to reality with quite a crash.

Luc was a kid. A bright kid. But still a kid. Michael could do all the watching he wanted to, but chances were, compliance ultimately lay with Luc.

The doctor explained the need for education and handed Nikita a list of resources for children with Diabetes. Nikita glanced anxiously at her husband and Michael bestowed one of his rare smiles upon her. "He's going to be okay," he told her with that self-assurance that used to make Section One's operatives trust his decisions. "When you lead, people live," he remembered Nikita saying to him once. She had been right then.

Just as he was right now.

Adam pressed a kiss to his sleeping lover's forehead. "Nick? It's time to go."

Jazz stirred himself slowly, casting a sleepy-eyed look in Adam's direction. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. You want to ride with me?"

"Your Dad taking Luc and your Mom home?"

Adam nodded and started to smile at the way Jazz' brilliant green eyes lit up. "Does this mean I get you all to myself?" Jazz purred.

"Jeez, you sound like you never see me," Adam teased.

"Can I help it if you're so irresistible?" Jazz asked.

"One of these days you are going to have to learn some self-control."

"Why?" Jazz laughed.

There was no good answer to that one. So Adam kissed him.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean, Carlos?" Gabriel raked a hand through his hair and once again, Carlos was struck by how desirable the younger man could look without even trying.

"You think Margaret suspects something?"

"Are you stupid or just trying to piss me off?" Gabriel stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans and struggled to keep them there. Out of his pockets, there was always the temptation to touch Carlos. And that could be dangerous.

"You want to find out what the penalty is for insubordination?" Carlos asked rhetorically, sounding menacing enough that Gabriel should have taken the hint.

But Gabriel was frustrated. By keeping his secrets to himself. By keeping his feelings to himself. And now, he didn't even have the right to touch Carlos without giving everything away.

"You used me."

"We used each other," Carlos hissed. "That's what this place is about. Nothing new, caro."

"Don't call me that," Gabriel snapped. "I'm not one of your valentine ops right now."

"That's exactly what you are, Gabriel," Carlos growled.

Gabriel hid the wince well, but inside, his stomach was roiling. Irony abounded in Section. For a valentine op, of all people, to succumb to another operative, especially his superior, was worse than ironic. It was tragic. He'd known there was no such thing as a real relationship between ops. There was sex, and there was need, and there was desire…but there was never love. So Gabriel had, in his own words, fucked up royally.

He'd let himself believe in the stolen moments he'd shared with Carlos.

And he was paying for it. Because Carlos didn't feel the same way. Gabriel doubted he even registered as a blip on Carlos' radar at this point. Except as a potential problem.

Gabriel didn't care much for how Carlos probably intended to solve that problem either. So he strained to distance himself now. Before Margaret did it for them.

He didn't trust his voice yet, and despite years of training at Carlos' hands, Gabriel suddenly realized that he was losing the battle to keep his expression neutral.

"You think I'm being cruel?"

Gabriel closed his eyes for a moment before daring to make eye contact with his trainer again. "I'm sure you don't mean to be," he said evenly.

"I hurt your feelings?" Carlos seemed surprised, almost disturbed by that.

"Just because we indulge in all this constant gameplaying doesn't mean that we don't have feelings."

"Feelings can get you killed."

"Is that a threat?"

"No, it's a warning."

"I've never lied to you before, Carlos. I don't know if I can start now," Gabriel said bleakly. If that were true, his career was as good as finished. Margaret would know, they would be separated, and he didn't know if he could continue living the life they led…without Carlos.

If he survived to have a life.

"I don't want anything to…happen…to you, Gabriel." Carlos' dark eyes were unreadable. He was a good operative. One of the best since Michael. No one could make him admit something he didn't want anyone to know.

No one.

Till now.

"Are you going to put me into Abeyance?" Gabriel whispered. He didn't want to die, but if he had to live without Carlos, it came down to the same thing.

"No," Carlos said tersely. "You're still…valuable."

Gabriel snapped his head up and stared at the older man. No one could accuse Carlos of being straightforward, but he was clearly trying to say something.

Without saying it.

"To you?"

"Of course to me. Who else?" Carlos retorted, too quickly for real thought.

"You…like me," Gabriel almost stumbled over the word.

"Do you have any idea what a major pain in the ass it would be to start over training someone new?" Carlos said crossly.

"Then it doesn't have anything to do with having great sex."

"I can have sex with anyone I want. Did you think you're the only one I sleep with?" Carlos shook his head angrily.

Unshed tears suddenly blurring his vision, Gabriel gave up his battle for control and spat, "Yeah. I did."

"Well, now you know," Carlos said, carefully averting his gaze from the sight of his soon-to-be former lover.

"If you didn't want me in your bed, you didn't have to put me there," Gabriel said in a deceptively soft voice.

"You put yourself there. I only took advantage."

"You should have kept me there. I don't think you're going to like what I can do as an enemy."

"You're not that stupid, caro."

Gabriel smiled. "Maybe not. But can you afford to take that chance?"

Carlos could have warned Gabriel. But he didn't. He rarely second-guessed himself, and telling Gabriel what he intended to do fell into that category.

Margaret was an attractive woman. Carlos would have said so even if she hadn't been the most powerful person in Section One. While it was true that Operations ran the Section, it was equally true that Margaret knew where all the bodies were buried.

She wasn't afraid to use that information. Everyone knew that. That was what gave her more power than Operations.

That was also what made her extremely dangerous.

She had come back from the dead. Quite literally. For years her sister, Madeline, had ruled Section One. Before her mysterious disappearance. Before her enigmatic reappearance…and her subsequent death. Rumor had it that Madeline had killed Margaret when she was a child. Thrown her down a flight of stairs. Over a doll.

Margaret didn't mind that particular rumor. It enhanced the mystique she kept cloaked around herself. The reality…well, what was reality anyway? Like anything else, it depended on your point of view.

Margaret didn't hate Madeline for what she'd done. But she was glad she was gone.

It saved having to kill her.

"So…where's your…partner?" Margaret asked. Carlos didn't miss her slight hesitation over the word partner. Appearances were indeed deceptive. She never said what she meant…and she never meant what she said.

"Who?" Carlos frowned convincingly. He wasn't blond, but he knew when to play dumb. She was on a fishing expedition. But he wasn't going to be the bait that caught Gabriel.

"You know, your ever-present companion? Gabriel?"

Oh, she was pissed now. Whenever her voice descended to that tone that gave his nether regions frostbite, he could tell that she was annoyed beyond words. He had forced her into a corner, made her reveal her interest in Gabriel, and she wasn't going to forgive that anytime soon.

"He's…" Carlos paused as though he was thinking. That would irritate her further, but he was given so few opportunities to thwart Margaret, he couldn't resist. "…around."

"You don't know where he is?"

"Do you need him? I could find him for you if you do," Carlos said helpfully.

Margaret smiled. "That won't be necessary. I have people to do that sort of thing for me, Carlos. But perhaps…we could have coffee? Or dinner? In the Tower?"

Carlos remained impassive. She expected him to say no, so of course, he had to say yes. "Certainly. What time?"

If she was surprised, she didn't show any sign of it. "About 8?"

Carlos nodded. He was trained to respond accordingly, no matter what sex the target was. Ergo, if he pretended that Margaret was simply another target, he could get through this.

"And Carlos?"

He turned and looked expectantly in her direction.

"Don't tell Gabriel I was looking for him."

That was the first thing he did.

"Gabriel…"

Gabriel glanced at him coldly and said, "Yeah?"

Carlos moved behind him, so close that his breath was caressing Gabriel's ear, and he felt the younger man flinch. "Watch your back, querido."

"Something's up?"

"There's always something up. You know that."

Gabriel shivered at the proximity of his former lover. "Okay, you warned me, now take off."

"What did you say?" Carlos whispered, his black eyes narrowing.

Gabriel closed his eyes and tried desperately to think about something, anything else but how close Carlos was standing. Suddenly he opened his eyes. Normally hazel, they were now a startling shade of green, perhaps due to the emotional stress he was fighting back. "Don't do this to me, man," he whispered.

"Do what?" Carlos asked.

"You know."

"No, I don't fucking know. I wouldn't have asked you if I did. Now talk to me, chico."

"Stop acting like we're still…together. We're done," Gabriel said quietly, his ordinarily fair complexion unnaturally pale.

"Who says?"

Gabriel shook his head and tried to regain control of his suddenly erratic breathing. "You did," he said hoarsely. "Wasn't that what yesterday was all about?"

"Ah, querido. Some of what I say is for…the eyes and ears that are constantly watching and listening."

Gabriel looked up, a wistful expression on his handsome young face. "How am I supposed to know what's real? What's not?"

"Are you saying you don't trust me, caro?" Carlos pushed an errant strand of Gabriel's hair behind his ear, and for some reason, that struck Gabriel as more affectionate than passionate, and he wondered if he had gotten things wrong.

"You know how I feel about you, Carlos," Gabriel murmured. "I just don't know-"

"Know what?"

"How you feel." Gabriel wished there was a hole that would swallow him up. He couldn't believe that he'd said that. Whatever was between them had to remain unspoken. It was safer that way. Even if it did make him uncomfortable.

"Is that such a bad thing, querido? Not knowing?"

Yeah. Sometimes it is.  Gabriel knew better than to say that out loud, however, and he remained silent, even as Carlos' fingers moved restlessly through the hair at his collar.

All at once Carlos pressed his lips to Gabriel's ear and whispered, "And if I told you, could you honestly say you would believe me?"

The table was set for an elegant dinner. Suddenly Carlos felt completely under-dressed for the occasion. He didn't know exactly what was going to happen. Margaret could be extremely unpredictable. But he could make an educated guess, and something told him that he wouldn't be sleeping in his own bed tonight.

He sighed inwardly. Making love to a woman as beautiful as Margaret, while not a hardship, complicated things. He wasn't worried about either one of them falling in love. For one thing, Margaret wasn't built that way. For another…

…he was too concerned about how Gabriel was taking this. His mind kept straying to what the younger man had to be thinking, and that was more of a distraction than he was willing to admit.

Gabriel was becoming…had become…too important to him. That made him a liability. A weakness he could ill afford.

Yet he couldn't bring himself to cut him loose.

That might get both of them killed.

"You know why I asked you here?" Margaret asked flirtatiously.

"Yes." This was it. They hadn't even gotten to dessert. But then Carlos thought, I am dessert. "Is this where I'm supposed to act surprised that you're trying to seduce me?"

"Are you?"

"No."

"What are you thinking, Carlos? I want to know. Truly."

"Truly?" He raised a dark sculpted eyebrow. "I was wondering…what took you so long."

Margaret laughed. As she was meant to do. Carlos didn't feel a shred of regret for manipulating her. If he was actually capable of doing such a thing. Margaret, like her sister before her, was a skillful gameplayer. No one could get inside her head.

Unless she wanted him there.

"Isn't this better?" she asked, winding her arms around his neck.

He raked his black eyes over her almost coolly. "Better than what?"

"Oh, I don't know. Spending a quiet night at home?"

"I don't have quiet nights."

"So I've heard. You're quite the…sexual gymnast, aren't you?"

"You invited me here to find out, didn't you?"

"You like answering a question with another question."

"I had a good teacher."

Her brown eyes flashed, but it wasn't warning that he saw there, but excitement. She liked the way he challenged her. It made her…hot.

It made him…unsettled. He wanted to be able to tell himself that he was doing this to guarantee Gabriel's safety. But he couldn't say that. He never lied to himself.

Chances were that whatever was going to happen to Gabriel was out of Carlos' hands.

Gabriel took out a cigarette and placed it between his teeth with painstaking precision. A fairly difficult task when his hands were shaking so badly. He wasn't jealous. He wasn't thinking about what Carlos was doing with Margaret.

It wasn't his place to care. But it wasn't…fucking fair. He wanted to believe that Carlos was doing this out of duty and self-preservation, even a desire to keep Gabriel from ending up in Abeyance. Or worse.

But part of him couldn't be glad, not even if Carlos was doing it for him.

"You're doing this because you want to. You don't do anything you don't want to do. I know that. I know you," Gabriel whispered to himself. He let smoke seep slowly through his partially opened lips, the brilliant intensity in his hazel eyes gradually fading away as he stared up at the Tower.

He never should have come. This was prolonging the agony. Whatever they had was over. This was the proof. Carlos had defied Section before.

But not now.

Carlos coupled with Margaret in an act that had more to do with survival than sex. Every part of him felt the betrayal that was inherent in such an act. At one point, he was forced to close his eyes and pretend that she was someone else, his own training not enough to overcome his overwhelming sense of failure.

She was beautiful. To anyone else, she would have been well worth the effort needed to bed her.

It didn't mean anything. That's what he kept telling himself over and over.

But it did. It meant something to Gabriel, and oh, God, his heart ached, enough to make him falter as he skillfully brought her to a second climax.

You've played the part of Section's whore before. Why does it matter now? It's just a job.

Only he feared that it wasn't. He didn't want to sleep with Margaret because he found her physically and spiritually offensive.

He came in a rush of bitter coldness that made him gasp.

He didn't want to sleep with Margaret because she wasn't Gabriel. If Margaret plucked that thought out of his head, he couldn't possibly be more frightened.

"Querido…" Carlos wasn't even aware that he'd spoken. Or that he'd used an endearment that was clearly masculine.

Margaret's eyes snapped open, their dark brown depths seemingly obscure. Carlos was good. Very good. But she was better.

She always was.

She always would be.

"I can explain-"

Gabriel waved a hand at Carlos and continued to pack with sharp, almost vicious economy of movement. "Don't bother," he said flatly.

"Caro, you know me. I don't apologize to anyone. But I'm making an exception this time."

"Thanks. That makes me feel so special." Gabriel finished packing his duffle bag and glared at his former lover. "Thanks for the sex. It was great," he declared, but a faint sheen in his eyes made it clear that he was anything but unaffected.

"Gabriel," Carlos said softly, the command in his voice subtle but unmistakable. "It was more than that," he added huskily.

"Wow, what an admission. Now I know for sure it's over."

"I-"

"What? You love me?" Gabriel blinked away the tears that threatened to blur his vision.

"Yeah, I do," Carlos said angrily. He could see Gabriel leaving him, and for once he wasn't so sure he could stop him.

"That why you fucked her?" Gabriel spat.

"Yes," Carlos snapped back, suddenly advancing on the younger man. "I had to protect you-"

"Don't touch me!" Gabriel said, squeezing his eyes shut. But Carlos didn't pay him any heed. Instead he moved closer, closer, closer till he could hold Gabriel in his arms. Gabriel twisted and turned in a futile effort to get away, but Carlos refused to relinquish his grip on him.

Gabriel fisted Carlos' shirt, evidently intending to shove the other man back. But Carlos anticipated him and used his momentum to pull Gabriel hard against his chest. For several seconds, the only sound was Gabriel's harsh breathing, which was dangerously close to sobbing. Suddenly Gabriel buried his face in Carlos' neck, his murmuring indistinct yet anxious, as if he couldn't bear to be separated from the very thing he feared the most.

"Don't…let go," he finally managed to say.

"I won't." Ever. Carlos heard the word form itself inside him, but he fought the urge to say it out loud. He didn't want to make promises he couldn't keep.

It took a long time, but eventually the unnatural tension that had seized Gabriel began to fade. Carlos didn't want to say anything that might jeopardize their relationship, but sooner or later, they were going to have to deal with the fallout from Carlos' tenuous rapport with Margaret.

"Gabriel?"

The younger man reluctantly pried himself away from Carlos and surreptitiously swiped a hand over his face. Like his mentor, Gabriel wasn't given to easy expression of his feelings. Their lives were far too complicated for that. He understood, and agreed with, the need for secrecy. But sometimes, God, sometimes he wished that he could tell Carlos exactly how he felt and damn the consequences.

"I know what you're going to say," Gabriel whispered.

"I doubt that."

"You're going to tell me that we don't own our own lives."

"We don't."

"That we've both slept with other people. Sometimes for the mission. But not always."

Carlos nodded. "True."

Gabriel stared at him for a long moment, struggling to come to terms with something that he was afraid to put into words. "Then…how come…it hurts so much…to think of you…with her?"

That touched Carlos in a way he desperately wanted to share. But he couldn't. So he swallowed around the unexpected lump in his throat and traced a finger along the side of Gabriel's face. "I know you have trouble believing this, caro, but I did it for you."

Gabriel's hazel eyes glistened anew. "I know," he whispered.

"All those other people…they don't mean anything."

Gabriel smiled faintly. "I know."

"Then…stay." Gabriel started to shake his head, but Carlos pressed his lips to the same cheek he had been stroking. "Please?"

"For how long?" Gabriel asked, his voice breaking mid-sentence.

"For as long as we can make it work?" Carlos hated sounding so hesitant. It wasn't like him. It wasn't like either one of them. But the entire interlude with Margaret had left him shaken and in grave need of reassurance. He wanted to mean something to someone, dammit, and Gabriel…well, he might not be able to say it, but he could certainly think it. Gabriel loved him.

And in his heart of hearts, he knew something else.

Something twice as important.

But even more dangerous.

He loved him, too.