Madeline rapped on Declan’s half-open door before entering his office. Declan unconsciously came to attention, adjusting his clothing surreptitiously. Birkoff appeared suddenly next to him, unobtrusively wiping his mouth.

Declan patted Birkoff on the back. "Thanks for running that intel over. It saved me a walk."

"No problem," said Birkoff, racing past Madeline without looking at her.

Madeline turned and stared after Birkoff for a moment. "I swear that boy gets stranger everyday," she mused out loud.

Declan had no intention of discussing Birkoff with Madeline. Clearing his throat, he called Madeline’s attention back to what brought her to his office.

Madeline smiled. "Oh, yes, Declan, I have a surprise for you. You’re going to be paying a visit to Oversight soon."

"Me?" Declan said, not a little consternation in his voice.

"Yes, they’re very impressed with your numbers. I think they might want you for one of the other Sections. It would mean a boost upwards, Declan. It would be a good career move."

"Move?" Declan echoed, a puzzled frown etching his fine features.

"Well, you didn’t expect to stay here in One forever, did you?" Madeline chuckled, certain that Declan would warm to the idea once he’d had a chance to get used to it. After all, Declan was not only a great operative, but ambitious as well.

"No, of course not," Declan replied tersely.

Almost caught in the act by Maddy. And now this. Could things possibly get any worse?

Well, they could, actually.

Declan walked into Comm the next day, astonished to find that he had been selected for a Valentine mission. Oh, no, this wasn’t happening. It wasn’t just that Declan preferred his own sex for lovemaking, it wasn’t that he hated women. He didn’t. But he had a philosophical problem with exploiting anyone. And to him, this type of mission was the most exploitative of them all.

He tried to get it changed, but Madeline stood firm. She knew he was gay. Declan confided in her shortly after his brother Justin and his entire terrorist team were canceled. In fact, Madeline was well aware that she was lending Declan protection she rarely offered anyone else. She knew the entire Section thought they were having an affair, and because it served a useful purpose, she allowed the rumors to continue circulating.

However, Operations was pushing for Declan to prove himself in this area. He was convinced that Declan would be extremely persuasive in the sensual arena. He was right, he just had the wrong sex.

So it was that Declan was not in the best of moods when he approached Birkoff. "Have you seen the profile?"

Birkoff nodded.

Declan searched the surrounding area, gratified to see that Hillinger was nowhere to be found. "What do you think of it?" he whispered.

Birkoff raised an eyebrow imperiously. "What do *I* think? What the hell difference does it make what *I* think?" he hissed.

Declan cleared his throat and bent over the Comm head’s shoulder, so close Birkoff could feel his breath on the side of his face. "I’m going to have to sleep with the target, boyo. Doesn’t that bother you just a little?"

Birkoff flushed. Birkoff understood how Section worked, perhaps better than anyone else. He was well-used to its idiosyncrasies and its quirks, but he did not like its callous disregard for its own operatives’ feelings.

"If you sleep with the target, Declan, I’m sure it’ll just be part of the job."

"Won’t it be hard…for you to watch?" Declan asked, studying Birkoff’s face for any kind of tension at all.

But Birkoff’s calm remained curiously untouchable. "I have better things to do than watch you sleep."

Declan couldn’t resist a well-aimed barb in his direction. "I doubt if we’ll be sleeping."

Birkoff turned and faced Declan, an angry quiver in his lower lip. "What do you want me to say, Declan? That I’m jealous?"

Declan flushed in response. "Well, aren’t you?" he countered.

Birkoff looked like he very well might cry. "Yes, dammit," he hissed.

Declan wanted to kiss him for having the courage to admit that. Not that he was ready to admit the same. He sometimes thought about Hillinger eyeing Birkoff in his predatory way and wondered if Hillinger had designs on him. He knew they fought like cats and dogs, but that could be a sign of a burgeoning attraction.

But he needed to say something to Birkoff. "It’s going to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever done," he said softly.

"I doubt that," Birkoff replied, his voice still hostile.

Declan looked around Comm again, deeply concerned about showing any unusual attention to Birkoff. Leaning forward, he whispered into Birkoff’s ear, "I’ll be thinking of you."

Birkoff gasped, totally flustered by Declan’s response. That was when he thought that he should say something about how he felt. But before he could form a coherent thought…

…Hillinger entered Comm.

Hillinger's ass was grass.

Just ask Declan. Or Birkoff.

The corridor was dark. There was a tiny bit of light down at the end of it, making it look like a tunnel that led somewhere. Somewhere better. A figure moved out of the shadows. Birkoff.

Declan moved down the corridor quickly, not that he was being followed. There wasn’t a soul around. This was a relatively deserted area, occasionally used by operatives seeking a clandestine meeting place. For one reason or another.

But his urgency was not borne out of a desire to elude capture by an unseen enemy. It was desire, pure and simple. A chance to meet with his lover one last time before a mission that filled him with disgust and trepidation.

Declan stood in the light, his tall, lean figure outlined in silhouette. He looked like a holy knight to Birkoff. Birkoff gazed at Declan, rapture never far from his mind when he saw him.

"Declan," he breathed. "The mission leaves in twenty."

"I know." Declan’s mood was almost somber. As if he missed Birkoff already. "Come here."

With a tiny cry, Birkoff was in his arms. He lay his head against Declan’s chest, listening to Declan’s heartbeat, strong and steady in his ear. Declan wrapped both arms around Birkoff’s upper body, uncaring if Birkoff guessed how he felt. He pressed a kiss to the top of Birkoff’s head, feeling the peach-fuzz tickle his lips, and smiled.

"I don’t want you to go, Declan."

"I don’t want to leave you either, boyo." Declan’s confession stunned both of them.

"I thought you didn’t want a relationship." Birkoff’s dark eyes were shiny. Was he crying? Declan felt his armor crack.

"I didn’t." Declan’s words fell into the deafening silence. "But it looks like I’ve got one."

"Declan, I—"

Declan pressed a fingertip to Birkoff’s lips, holding him tight. "Don’t, boyo. Save those words for when I come back to you."

Birkoff sighed. Did Declan mean he had something to tell him, too?

He felt Declan’s mouth moving against his hair, but he couldn’t make out the words. He wanted to belong to Declan. In his heart, he knew he already did. But he didn’t trust his emotional judgment. He’d made so many damn mistakes down that road before.

Who knew where this would go?

When the Valentine mission began, Birkoff wished he could be anywhere but in Section One. If he could have run the mission with his eyes closed, quite literally, he would have. It was bad enough thinking about Declan being with someone else. But to be forced to watch him having sex with someone else? He refused to let it wreak its havoc with him, even though he suspected his heart would break when Declan consummated the union with the target.

His hands poised over the keyboard, Birkoff put his mind on automatic, something he was forced to do when someone he cared about was in jeopardy. Like Nikita. Or Walter. Or God forbid, sometimes even Michael.

Declan’s voice came over his headset, loud and clear. "Team 1, move to first mark." Declan must have touched his comm link then, for Birkoff heard something else come over B channel. "Birkoff? Are you getting this?"

Birkoff leaned forward unconsciously, as if straining to be closer to wherever Declan was. "Yes. I hear you, Declan." He didn’t have to say that, he just liked saying Declan’s name. Sheesh, now he was getting sentimental when he least expected it.

He sat back stunned. He must have heard him wrong. It sounded just like Declan said: "In case something happens to me…well, you know what I mean."

He wanted to scream, No, no, I don’t know what you mean! There could be a hundred different interpretations of what you just said! Birkoff thought that Declan was trying to reassure him, but he wasn’t able to speak plainly over an open comm link. Even B channel was monitored occasionally by TPTB, and anything said over comm was vulnerable to them during the debriefs. Unless Birkoff stripped the frames of any personal conversation between him and Declan. It would be risky. If he was discovered…it might mean cancellation for either or both of them. But then again, who else was capable of doing his job? Hillinger?

"Declan?" Birkoff activated B channel.

Declan’s voice came back in his ears. "Yeah, boyo?"

Birkoff quickly glanced over who was working in Comm. Hillinger was preoccupied with trying not to fall asleep on his keyboard after spending three full tours in Comm. He was useless. Birkoff hoped.

"Declan, I think you need to know that—"

Declan’s voice crackled with static suddenly. The signal was breaking up. By the time Birkoff rerouted the frequency through their satellite links, Declan was inside. Where the target waited. The moment was lost.

Declan was confused. He shook his head to clear it. He couldn’t remember anything after Birkoff’s strange-sounding message over B channel. All he knew was, this was not the place he was supposed to be. And that elegant woman in the dark plum suit and extraordinary high heels was definitely not the target.

"Hillinger! Wake up, you freaking moron! The mission just went south! There’s been no answer on any comm link for over five minutes! We’ve been compromised somehow! I can’t raise Declan!" If Birkoff sounded mildly hyperactive, it was only because it was true.

Hillinger sat up so quickly, he nearly unseated himself. Shit, he hated to think of losing Declan, but hey…there would be someone bigger and better along any moment to replace him. That was the way Section worked.

Unfortunately, he made the mistake of mentioning his theory to Birkoff. Birkoff’s nerves were already strung out to the breaking point.

"Jesus! You’re such a dumb fuck, Hillinger!"

"Awww, whatsamatta, Sey-mour, did your big, bad man in black up and leave you flat? Is he the one that gave you that hickey?" Hillinger might be a computer wizard of sorts, but he certainly had no common sense. Any fool who was legally blind could see that Birkoff was hurting, and it gave him both the will and the power to do something he should have done long ago.

Birkoff leaped on Hillinger, much as he had one time before, but this time, there was no one around to stop him. His hands clenched tightly around Hillinger's throat, Birkoff pressed harder and harder, needing to hurt Hillinger as much as he needed to breathe.

Suddenly a voice rang out, a cold, hard voice. Operations. "Mr. Birkoff! Correct me if I’m wrong, but we have a live mission running, do we not?"

"Yes, sir!" Birkoff shouted, his dark eyes flashing. "I was just telling Mr. Hillinger that he should take off the rest of the shift."

Operations smiled, that sardonic curve of the lips that passed for amusement. "And I suggest that you take him up on that offer, Mr. Hillinger. I don’t think you’ll get a better one."

After Hillinger left, Birkoff sank into his chair, burying his face in his hands. What was he going to do? Declan didn’t answer. No one could find the team that went out. It was a routine valentine mission. Nothing exotic. Nothing difficult. Where did everyone go? And where was Declan? d

"Madeline." Declan spoke her name, and she smiled in response.

"Declan," she said warmly, embracing him.

Declan gave Madeline a puzzled look. What was going on? "I don’t understand, Maddy. What happened?"

Madeline carefully brought Declan up to date on what had occurred while he was unconscious. "I gave you something to knock you out briefly. Your head might be a bit fuzzy for a while. But it was necessary."

"For what?"

"For the plan to work. Declan, I know how desperately you want to prove yourself, but forcing you to complete a valentine mission was cruel, even for Operations."

She paced a few steps away and turned, a delicate smile transforming her subdued look. "Everyone will think you were taken by terrorists. I couldn’t tell you ahead of time. You need to sound credible when Operations debriefs you."

"But why, Maddy? You’ve protected me before, but this…"

Madeline’s smile dimmed slightly as she contemplated how best to answer Declan. "There’s something in you, Declan, something worth protecting. Maybe I’m just getting sentimental in my old age, but…" Her voice drifted off slowly, as if she couldn’t quite find the words to articulate her feelings. But they were there, nevertheless.

An odd look crossed Declan’s face as he thought about what this meant. To him. And to Birkoff.

"So Section thinks I’m missing? Am I supposed to be on mandatory refusal then?"

"No, Declan, that won’t be necessary. Right now, you’re presumed dead."

Meanwhile, back at Section…

Birkoff stared at Operations in disbelief. "What do you mean?"

"I’m sorry, Birkoff. The whole team is missing. Presumed dead."

"Including Declan?"

"Including Declan." If Operations thought there was anything odd about Birkoff singling out the team leader, he didn’t say so. Birkoff himself was known for his erratic behavior and even more erratic thinking. It came with the territory when someone was as brilliant as he was.

Operations came to a stop, his hand even with Birkoff’s shoulder. "The mission is aborted. Why don’t you go get some sleep?"

Sleep! How could he sleep? Knowing that Declan was missing? Presumed…dead?

Birkoff shrugged Operations’ hand off his shoulder and strode away, his hands deep in his oversized pants pockets. He needed to think. There had to be someplace he could go.

As soon as Birkoff made it to the hallway outside his quarters, he knew that he couldn’t go there. He stopped in front of his door, pressing his face against the frame. "No, no, no, no…" he chanted, struggling to control the urge to beat his forehead against the metal.

Spinning around, tears blinding him, he made his way through the maze of Section corridors, somehow ending up in the one place that actually made sense to him. Declan’s quarters.

His hands moving at what seemed like the speed of light, Birkoff keyed in a rapid sequence of numbers, overriding the access code that normally guarded the door to Declan’s quarters. There were some definite perks to being head of Comm. Breaking allegedly secure codes was one of them.

Birkoff let himself into Declan’s quarters, locking the door behind him. His vision blurred by tears, he made his way incautiously towards the bed. Collapsing on the bed, he lay on his stomach, sobbing for several minutes. Why did this have to happen? He was perfectly content until he met Declan. Now his life was turned upside down. First, by meeting him. Second, by being seduced by him. Third, by loving him. And now, by grieving for him.

Birkoff groped for the pillow they shared when they slept together the first time. He inhaled a deep breath and exhaled on a grief-stricken sob. It smelled just like Declan. Oh, God…

Clasping his arms tightly around Declan’s pillow, Birkoff staggered to his feet, unsteadily making his way to the closet. Finding Declan’s black leather jacket, Birkoff nearly dropped the pillow. Managing to hold onto both, he stumbled all the way back to the bed.

Burying his wet, tear-stained face in the pillow, Birkoff wrapped Declan’s black leather jacket around himself and proceeded to cry himself to sleep.

Hours passed. Birkoff had succumbed to much-needed sleep long ago.

A noise at the door woke him.

Declan let himself in and closed the door, automatically locking it. When he saw the huddled figure in his bed, he flinched, almost drawing his gun. Christ, it was Birkoff.

Birkoff turned and the dim light briefly illuminated Birkoff’s tear-ravaged face. "Declan!" he cried out brokenly, his despair written across his face for anyone to see.

Declan immediately surmised what had happened, but before he could explain, Birkoff was on him, like a starving dog on a bone. Pounding Declan’s already-exhausted body with his fists, Birkoff sobbed, "You’re alive! But you let me think you were dead! How could you do that to me?"

Declan grabbed Birkoff’s wrists, more in an effort to prevent him from hurting himself than Declan. "Stop it!"

"I thought you were dead!" Birkoff cried, sinking to his knees. "I never even got to tell you I love you!" His head fell forward onto his chest, and Birkoff wept, not even aware that Declan was still holding onto his wrists.

Gradually, Declan was able to shift his grieving lover into his embrace. Slowly but surely, Birkoff relaxed, his body softening enough to allow Declan to hold him.

Eventually, Birkoff’s sobbing tapered off to an occasional hiccup, and he lay his head on Declan’s shoulder.

There was utter silence for several seconds. When Declan finally spoke, his own voice sounded curiously husky. "Sey?"

Birkoff blinked and raised inquiring dark eyes to Declan’s face. "Sey?"

"Sorry," Declan colored. "It’s how I think of you. In my head. Short for Seymour."

"You think of me?" Birkoff sniffled.

"All the time, Sey." Declan stroked the side of Birkoff’s face with his fingers. "Your skin is so soft, like satin. Your hair is like velvet."

Birkoff’s melting brown eyes slid shut under Declan’s caresses. His thumbs resting upon Birkoff’s cheekbones, Declan kissed him. Softly, tenderly, Declan began to make love to him. Birkoff opened his mouth, and Declan slid his tongue inside.

Breathless, Declan plundered his lover’s sweet treasure until he moaned under his ministrations. "W-wait, Declan…" Birkoff whispered.

"What is it?" Declan pressed the most gossamer-fine kiss on Birkoff’s cheek, and Birkoff sighed.

"I love you. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?"

"Yes, acushla, it does," Declan whispered in Birkoff’s ear.

Birkoff groaned softly, so softly even Declan’s ear might not have caught it. "What does that mean? Acushla?"

"Ahhh…" Declan kissed his other cheek, as gently as he did the first. "maybe I’ll tell you someday."

"Do we have a someday?" Birkoff asked hopefully.

"Aye, we do now," Declan said wistfully.

Declan kissed him on the mouth, feeling the sweet shiver of anticipation run through him at the thought of claiming Birkoff’s love once more. "Sey, come to bed with me and stay the night," he whispered.

"The night is almost over," Birkoff replied. "And I have to be up early."

"You were going to go to work as usual, even though I was supposedly dead?" Declan said incredulously.

"I-I, ohhh, I can’t think straight when I’m with you."

"Sounds like a bad case of hero worship," Declan commented light-heartedly.

"Nooo, I see all your bad points, but I love you anyway," Birkoff declared. He swiped at his face with the back of his hand. "Do you know I’ve told you how I feel at least three times, but you haven’t said one word?"

Declan pulled Birkoff to his feet again, slowly starting to undress him. "When I’ve finished taking the last piece of clothing from your body, then you’ll know exactly how I feel…acushla."

"That had better mean something good," Birkoff said with fierce intensity.

Moments later, when they were both undressed, and Declan succeeded in maneuvering them both into bed and under the covers… Declan caressed Birkoff’s neck with his tongue, making the first of what would be several forays into an incredibly sensual style of lovemaking.

Birkoff groaned, but he was not so overcome that he did not still hope for a reply to his declaration of love.

As if reading his mind, Declan smiled against his lover’s mouth, brushing his lips against his several times in succession. "Guess what?"

"What?"

"Someday just got here."

"What does that mean? Could you just stop being cryptic for one damn minute, Declan? I—"

Declan stopped Birkoff’s hyperverbal monologue from progressing any further by kissing him, his tongue swirling into and around his mouth. "I just wanted your full attention when I told you what ‘acushla’ means."

"What does it mean?" Birkoff asked weakly.

"My treasure. Darling. Pick one." Declan said bemusedly, enjoying Birkoff’s ecstatic response. Declan traced a long, slender finger over Birkoff’s mouth, causing him to squirm excitedly beneath him.

His eyes glowing brightly like molten silver, Declan bit possessively at Birkoff’s mouth. "You going to try to grow your hair for me then?"

"Ummm…what will people say?"

Declan stroked Birkoff’s cheek, enjoying the way he was still innocent enough to blush. Teasing Birkoff’s lower lip into his mouth, Declan tugged on his mouth repeatedly. "Maybe they’ll say we’re in love."

"Ummm…are we?"

"Oh, yeah…" Declan said with a smile that claimed any and all kisses Birkoff might ever possess. Trailing kisses along the side of his neck, Declan finally joined their bodies.

"You’re mine, acushla." Declan rocked gently against him.

"I am? Really?" Birkoff sighed.

"I’m going to give you another gift, Sey. Something no one else has ever had from me."

"What’s that?" Birkoff closed his eyes as wave after wave of ecstasy overwhelmed his poor, love-starved body.

"I love you." Declan arched magnificently above Birkoff, falling to earth like some dark angel with a loud and very satisfied groan. He rubbed his groin against Birkoff’s, savoring the tiny aftershocks that continued to throb through him.

Wrapping his arms around Birkoff, as if he dared anyone to try to take his lover away from him, Declan said, "You belong to me now."