Casey Wellman giggled and eluded her father's clutches for a second time, by ducking under the kitchen table of their modest home. Gray watched her with a mixture of exasperated affection and hurried around the table to try and catch her. It was a gamble which mornings Casey would want to play and it seemed this morning Gray lost the coin toss. His daughter had this unique way of knowing when he was in a hurry and decide that would be the day for fun and mischief.

         Usually, Gray allowed time for his daughter's energetic pursuits. He preferred to let her enjoy her childhood as much as possible, since her Mother had been taken away when she was just three. However, lately his heart had simply not been up to playing with the joy of his life and he had only himself to blame for that.

         Ever since Nikita had so callously dismissed him from her life, his heart hadn't been in anything, not even architecture. He couldn't bear to walk by the old church that used to be his thinking spot, without missing her. Gray thought she would be the one to bring that added spark of happiness into his life and be a Mother to Casey. But, Nikita apparently didn't feel the same way about them as they did her.

         He was hurt and confused by Nikita's rejection, but more than anything he was angry. Angry that he let himself fall for someone who was obviously out of his league. Angry that he had ignored the warning signs of her secrecy. Mostly, he was angry that she had allowed him to dream of a life with her, then yanked the floor out from under him.

        He had even introduced her to his daughter, the most precious thing in his life. She had seemed quite taken with Casey and the little girl quickly grew enamored of Nikita as well. Hurting him was one thing, but Gray would not abide anyone hurting his daughter, which Nikita had done when she broke it off with Gray and refused to see or talk to him.

         Gray caught Casey on their second turn around the table and hefted the wiggling child into his arms. She giggled in delight as he took advantage of her position to give her a raspberry on the exposed portion of her belly. She squealed and Gray deposited her on the sofa to tickle her, matching her giggles as they played.

         The door buzzer sounded and he glanced toward it, scowling. That would be his Mother-In-law and he hadn't yet managed to get Casey completely dressed.

         "There's Nana," he warned the little girl, softly. He pulled her arms through the shirt that had dropped on their floor during their playtime. "Hurry or she'll think I'm a bad Daddy for not having you dressed."

         Casey was instantly cooperative, she didn't want anyone to think her Daddy was bad. He was a great Daddy and she loved him very much. Besides, she didn't want to have to go live with Nana if Nana thought Daddy couldn't take care of her, she had heard her grandparents talk about that before.

         "That's a big girl," Gray encouraged as the buzzer sounded again and he grabbed her shoes and quickly slipped them on her socked feet. He called out to their impatient visitor. "Just a minute!"

         "Can't I stay?" Casey started to pout and Gray kissed her forehead, affectionately.

         She always hated to leave him, but she was usually good once she got to her grandparents, because they had a big yard with a dog and walk-in play house outside for her to enjoy.

         "Don’t you want to go see Callie, honey?" he asked, knowing his daughter had a soft spot for the large golden retriever. He never worried about Casey being hurt; the animal was very protective of his daughter.

         "I want to stay with you!" she started to whine as the buzzer sounded a third time.

         Gray gritted his teeth. Don't get your girdle in a twist Gretchen; I'm coming. He scooped Casey into his arms and grabbed her over night satchel. He tossed open the door, expecting to see the scowling face of his mother-in-law. Instead, he was shocked to find Michael Dupuis on the other side. Nikita had mentioned her was her cousin or something.

         "Hello, Gray," Michael greeted, cordially. "Have I come at a bad time?"

         Gray set his daughter down and instructed her to go fetch one of her toys to bring with her. The girl hurried off as Gray's unsettled gaze returned to Michael's.

         "What can I do for you, Michael?" he asked, curiously.

         He wondered if the man knew about his and Nikita's break up, and if he did why he was here. They had seemed particularly close, for cousins, so it didn't make sense that Micahel hadn't been told. Then again, Nikita was good at keeping secrets.

         "I'd like to talk to you if you have time," Michael offered, his French accent giving his words a purring affect.

         "This isn't a good time, Michael," Gray refused as he glanced over Michael's shoulder to see his Mother-In law's Cadillac pull up. "If this is about Nikita I haven't seen or spoken to her in almost five months, we broke up."

         "Yes, I was sorry to hear that," Michael offered kindly, but for some reason Gray suspected the Frenchman wasn't sorry at all.

         "Yeah, sure," he returned as Gretchen Witherspoon stepped up and Michael moved aside, politely. Gray couldn't let them both stand out there, so he invited them inside and closed the door.

         "Where's Casey?" Gretchen inquired, kissing Gray's cheek, affectionately. At that moment the little girl appeared, tugging one of her dolls along with her. She ran into Gretchen arms and accepted her Nana's kisses.

         "How's my big girl?" she asked, smiling.

         "Fine," Casey returned then pulled away to go to her father. She glanced shyly, at Michael and wrapped her tiny arms around Gray's legs. She didn't like strangers very much.

         Gray bent to meet her worried gaze and tucked a stray blond curl back behind her ear. Casey looked so much like her Mother that it was hard sometimes to look at his daughter without getting misty-eyed.

         "Are you ready to go with Nana, sweetheart?" he suggested, softly and she shook her head, still hoping he would let her stay. "Daddy's got to go to work, Honey. I'll pick you up first thing tomorrow morning, I promise."

         Casey shook her head and her lower lip started to tremble. She threw her arms around him. Gray was afraid she would start to cry and that worried him. Sure, she fussed when she had to leave, but she never cried or became this emotional.

         "What's wrong, Casey?" Gretchen asked, concerned. "Don't you want to come to our house and play?" She bent to touch the little girl's shoulder and Casey flinched away and clung tighter to her father.

         "I wanna stay with Daddy!" she cried and Gray exchanged a startled expression with his Mother In Law. "Wanna Stay! Wanna Stay!"

         "What's wrong with her?" Gretchen demanded as Gray pulled his daughter into his arms and rose. He had no idea what was upsetting his daughter so much, but he wouldn't force her to do something she really didn't want to.

         "I don't know," he admitted as he cradled her and smoothed her hair. Casey snuggled her little head into neck and kept her tiny arms around his neck. He felt her forehead and found she was a bit warm. "Maybe she's coming down with something."

         "Then it would be better if we take her, Gray," Gretchen insisted, worried. "You can't take care of her if she's sick and work too."

         "She's my daughter, Gretchen and I'll do what I have to," he stated, firmly. Most of the time he could work at home, that was the great thing about being an Architect. He only had to do few meetings and onsite inspections for each job. "Alan will understand if I can't make it. Why don't you go on home. If Casey is feeling better later I'll bring her by, okay?"

         "But I drove all the way here!" Gretchen protested.

         "I'm sorry," Gray offered. "But I'm not going to make her go if she really doesn't want to."

         "She's five years old, Gray," Gretchen reminded. "She doesn't know what she wants. That's why a parent has to make those decisions for her."

         Both people had forgotten about Michael's presence, so he remained quietly in the background, observing Gray Wellman with a particular intensity.

         "Well I am her parent," Gray stated, quietly. He did not want to get into a fight with her in front of Casey. "And I know my daughter. If this was just about making a fuss I would make her go, but this is different. She's never acted like this before and I will not force her to go."

         "Fine," Gretchen huffed.

        Then her gaze softened as she looked at them. She couldn't deny the love father and daughter shared. Gray had loved Gretchen's daughter with that same intensity and at times, she had been jealous of her. Gray relented, seeing his Mother-In Law would not press the situation.

        "Sweetheart," he began, setting Casey down and bending to meet her gaze, squarely. "Nana's right, she made the trip and you should go with her." His daughter started to protest again and Gray quickly continued. "If you get there and after one hour you still want to come home I will come pick you up. You can have Nana tell you when it has been an hour from the time you arrive and she can call me on my cell phone, okay?"

        Casey seemed ready to argue again, but she could see her Father's mind was made up. Slowly she nodded and he pulled her into his arms for a quick hug.

        "Good girl," he whispered endearingly. "That's my big girl."

        "I'll call you when we get there and let you know how she's doing, Gray," Gretchen promised as Gray handed her the satchel and she took Casey's hand in hers. "Let's go see Poppy, honey."

        Gray walked them to the door and watched them get into the car. He waved as they drove away, then he returned inside to confront Michael.

        "I really have to go, Michael," he insisted, pulling on his coat. "I'm already late. Can we do this another time?"

        "It will only take a minute, Gray," Michael assured, calmly. "I was just wondering if you had seen or heard from Nikita since you two broke up." Gray regarded him quietly, then adjusted his collar and reached for his keys.

        "She's your cousin, Michael," he reminded, moving again toward the door. "No, I haven't seen or spoken to her. Now, if that's all, I have to go to work."

        Michael stepped outside and watched Gray lock his front door. He handed Gray a business card.

        "She gets in these moods where she disappears for long periods of time and I worry about her," he informed. "If you hear from her, would you let me know? I just want to be sure she's okay."

        Gray frowned but took the car.

        "I'm sure if she wants to get in touch with you, she will," he retorted and nodded curtly. "Good Bye, Michael."

        He turned and headed for his car. Usually, he would take the bus so he could look at the older section of town, but he was in running late now.  He slid behind the wheel and drove away, unaware that Michael Dupis was staring after him.

            Gray tried to concentrate during his meeting with the contractors, but seeing Michael had reopened his thoughts of Nikita. He had given her plenty of chances to tell him the truth and she chose to lie to him. He couldn't prove she was lying of course, but he suspected she was. Just as he suspected she had lied to him at the hotel, lied to him about Michael and lied to him about not loving him.

        Gray was not a stupid man. He may be a little emotionally unstable when it came to women, but anyone was bound to have a few scars after the experiences he had been through. His own Mother had abandoned him when he was five on the steps of stranger's home. He grew up in foster care with a variety of different families to torment him. One family neglected him, one beat him, and one did both.

        Sometimes, he got lucky and he found a family that seemed sincere and even nice for awhile, but those families were in demand and it never lasted. Sooner or , they would decide someone was more needy than Gray and he would be shuffled around again. He supposed he was lucky to have been old enough to remember his name and though they tried, the authorities never found his Mother. Gray never knew his father.

        When he hit thirteen, Gray pretty much stayed at the boys home, since there were few families that wanted the older kids. He became attached to the woman that ran it, Sister Maria. She helped him get part time work and was the one who got him interested in architecture by taking him around with her to see all the unique buildings the city offered.

        Gray worked diligently through school at whatever jobs he could find. He was awarded a partial scholarship for his trouble and worked two jobs to pay the remainder of his tuition. However, during his first year of College, Sister Maria died suddenly of a stroke.

        Shortly after, he met Cassady Witherspoon.  She had taken Gray's breath away with both her beauty and unique charm. He knew she would be his wife from the moment he met her and Cassady had felt that same connection. They married less than three months later, much to Gretchen's disapproval. The arrival of Casey one-year later softened the older woman's heart dramatically. Gray could remember everything about the day his daughter was born, it was both the greatest and the worst day of his life.

        There had been complications during the delivery and because of Cassady's weakened state the Doctors decided to keep her a few extra days to run tests. Gray was torn between his new daughter and his wife. Trying to show support to both had left him lacking in sleep and appetite for many days after.

        When he finally learned that the woman he treasured was dying of Cancer, it was almost his undoing. Balancing the many tasks of caring for a newborn, his studies and his ill wife, Gray soon learned to be grateful for the simplest things in life. If the sun was shining when he woke, that meant he could take Casey out for a walk in the fresh air. If Cassady slept through the night, it meant she might be up for a stroll as well. Sometimes, just finding food that his wife could keep down, or having Casey take her nap when he put her down the first time came to mean a lot to Gray.

        There were no guarantees in life, he knew that from experience, so he tried to make each day with his wife and daughter count. When they finally lost Cassady, he was grateful she went peacefully in her sleep. Explaining her death to Casey was a little more difficult for Gray, but he and his daughter were managing okay.

         He couldn't help thinking he was cursed when it came to women in his life, but then he met Nikita. However, she just seemed to confirm his suspicion. Either way, it would take him a long time before he would trust his heart again. He decided to just concentrate on Casey and his work, the two things he had always found pleasure in.

        Gretchen had called Gray earlier and informed him that Casey was back to being her usual playful self. He was relieved that whatever was bothering his daughter earlier no longer persisted. The meeting had gone well, despite Gray's preoccupation, and so his spirits were lifted by the time he headed home. On impulse, he decided to drive over to his thinking spot.

        He shoved his hands into his pocket, despite the warmer weather, and stared longingly at the church. Yes it reminded him of Nikita, but he used to bring Cassady here and sometimes Casey when she would allow it. All three of the women he loved had been to this spot at one point.

        He sighed and headed inside the church, to get a better view of the architectural genius that had built it. He settled in a middle pew, unconcerned that there was no one else around. The church was rarely used anymore, except for Christmas or Easter masses when they needed more room for the crowd.

        Gray knew that Gretchen took Casey to church on Sundays, which was fine with him, but he had never been much of a church goer. He believed in God of course, there was too much beauty in the world not to have faith of the one who created it, but Gray didn’t need the confines of a building or a room full of people to pray. He did come here for their mass on special occasions.

        "Gray?" a familiar voice whispered from behind him. He started to turn around, surprised. "Don't turn around, they might be watching." He faced forward again, puzzled. They who? Was someone after her?

        "Nikita?" he asked, just as softly.

        "Yes, it's me," she confirmed quietly. "I need to talk to you, Gray, but not here. Is there somewhere secluded we could meet?"

        "Nikita, what's going on?"

        "Please, Gray, I can't tell you now. Is there somewhere we could meet?"

        Gray frowned. He didn't know what was going on, but it seemed Nikita's secrets still ruled her life.  The urge to just stand up and walk away from her was strong, but his heart wouldn't let him. He tried to think of a place they could meet, but nothing came to mind. He wasn't used to this cloak and dagger stuff, so how the hell did he know what constituted secluded to her?

        "There's a building on 4th and Elm, used to be a hotel but it's closed down now," he revealed, thoughtfully. "You can't miss it, it's designed almost like a fourteenth century castle, has the turrets on top and is gray stone."

        Nikita almost smiled. Of course he would pick a place that held an architectural interest, but that was Gray. She loved him all the more for it. She pulled the hood of her cloak further over her face and rose to her feet. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

        "Meet me there after dark," she requested. A moment later she was gone.

        Gray turned around finally and found himself alone in the church. He faced front once more and stared up at the statue of Jesus over the altar, asking for guidance.

            Gray entered the building later that evening. He had taken the bus because construction in this area was a bitch to drive in. It was easier to just get dropped a block or so away and walk to the old hotel. Besides, walking helped clear his head and he suspected he would need that once he met with Nikita.

        There wasn't much lighting once he turned onto Elm street, because much of that portion of the city had been abandoned. Eventually, they would tear it down to make room for more strip malls, a sight Gray was not eager to see.

        He had brought a small back pack with him, which held candles, a flashlight, and a few other necessities he might need. He didn't know what sort of situation Nikita was in, but obviously she was trying to avoid people, her cousin included.

        He entered the building through the back, where a few of the boards had been pulled away from the doorway. He knew vagrants sometimes slept here and he was sure that there were more than a few kids that had been through the hotel since it had closed. Luckily, they all seemed to respect the building's historic age and beauty enough not to vandalize it.

        Gray switched on his flash light as he entered the kitchen and headed through to the main lobby of the hotel. He called out to Nikita but only silence answered him. He began to worry this was a bad idea. He dismissed the feeling as nerves. He had nothing to fear from Nikita except getting his heart broken again.

        "Gray," her soft voice called to him from above and he aimed his light at the elaborate staircase behind him.

        Nikita wore dark pants and shirt under a long black cloak. She pushed back the hood of her cloak to reveal the waves of flaxen hair that was her most prominent feature. Gray's breath caught in his throat, as it always did when he looked at her, and he berated himself for ever thing someone so beautiful would ever settle for a man like him.

        "Hi," he greeted, hesitantly.

        Nikita waved him up with her own flash light.

        "Come'on," she encouraged. "I have a room set up for us."

        Gray adjusted his pack and followed her up. They stopped at the second landing and headed down the long, darkened corridor to a room at the far end. The door opened to a fancy, bedroom, where the windows were boarded up and would not reveal the candlelight inside.

        Nikita had removed the sheets from the furniture of the suite and had cleaned the dust from the room. Two candelabras, that she probably found down stairs, held lighted candles and provided enough illumination that they no longer needed their flash lights. Gray switched his off and set his pack on the Queen sized bed in the center of the room.

        "What's going on…" he began to ask, but Nikita was suddenly in his arms and he forgot what he had been about to say.

        "Just hold me, please," she requested and Gray couldn't refuse her.

        It felt so right to have her in his arms again, so perfect. The desire to put that large bed to good use filled him, but he buried it deep down. They weren't here for that. He needed to find out what was going on.

        Finally, he pulled back and regarded her, quietly.

        Nikita lowered her eyes for a moment, preferring to keep her arms coiled around his neck, afraid to break their contact. She had missed him so much these past few months. How could she have ever let the section ruin what she and Gray had together?

        Her life was not her own anymore, she understood that. They would kill Gray if she tried to stay with him; they had already tried once before. Nikita had thought she was doing what was best to protect him, but her heart would not survive without him. She was putting them both at risk even by contacting Gray, but she no longer had a choice. She didn't even know if Gray had forgiven her for betraying their love, but he was here and that was something, right?

        "Tell me what's going on, Nikita," he demanded quietly, interrupting her thoughts.

        She shook her head and stepped back.

        "The less you know the better," she assured, bitterly. "Besides, it's not important…"

        "If someone is after you or is trying to hurt you, then of course it's important!" Gray exclaimed. "You asked me to meet you and I'm here, Nikita, but I won't stand for any more secrets. Either you come clean with me about this cloak and dagger stuff or I walk out right now."

        "I…there are things I can't tell you, Gray," she insisted, desperately. "I…it would put you and even Casey at risk." Gray paled at the mention of someone hurting his daughter. "The people after me are my concern, I…I'll deal with them in time. I will tell you it isn't anything illegal and I am not a criminal."

        Gray frowned. How could he believe her when all she did was make him doubt her? He wasn't sure if he wanted to know all her secrets; he just wanted to understand why she was so scared. He still loved her and he needed to know why she had thrown his love back in his face and why she had asked him here, after doing that.

        He sighed and dropped down into one of the chairs, bracing his elbows on his knees and running his hands over his face. Why couldn't things ever be easy for him for once?

        "So talk," he encouraged, quietly. "What can you tell me? Why did you want me to meet you?"

        Nikita removed her cloak and knelt before him.

        "I know you must hate me for what I did to you, Gray," she began, then continued when he remained silent. "I'm sorry if I hurt you, but I had to."

        "You had to?" he scoffed. "You had to rip my heart out and dance on it, Nikita? No one has to do that to someone else."

        "No, it was wrong, but I only did it to protect you."

        "Protect me from what?"

        "I can't say…" she began and Gray slouched back in the chair, frustrated.

        "Damnit, Nikita!" he swore. "How can you expect me to understand anything when I'm only getting parts of the damn story? Clue me in here. Are you a terrorist? Are you a government spy? Are you schizophrenic or paranoid? What?"

        "I…I do work with people who are…under orders to protect the good of the country," she admitted, reluctantly. "I can't say anymore than that, Gray. These people are ruthless about achieving their goal and…sometimes innocent people get caught in the crossfire."

        "What were you doing that day at the hotel?" he asked, suddenly. "Don't tell me you were taking a shower, either. You were fine before hand but when you came out you looked as if you had seen a ghost or killed some…" He paused and his eyes widened at her guilty expression. He rose abruptly from the chair, putting some distance between them, and regarded her warily. "Was that it? Did you assassinate someone that day?"

        "No!" she denied, quickly. She stood and met his penetrating gaze. "It…it did have something to do with my…work, but Gray I swear I didn't kill anyone."

        His blue- gray eyes narrowed and she saw a momentary flash of fear behind them.

        "Have you ever killed anyone, Nikita?" he demanded, "for your…work?"

        Nikita lowered her eyes and nodded.

        Gray stumbled backwards against the bed, grateful it was there because his legs no longer agreed to hold him. "You're an assassin?"

        "No!" she refused, shaking her head. "I've only killed in self defense, Gray. Please, you have to believe me."

        "Holy Christ!" Gray swore, in numbed disbelief.

        The idea that Nikita was like some character out of a spy movie boggled his mind. This sweet, beautiful woman who had won his heart so effortlessly? She couldn't be that cold blooded that…that…He shivered.

        "Then…Michael works with you," he muttered as it all started to fall into place. "He isn't really your cousin. That was why you were upset about him suggesting that hotel. He was setting you up for your next…mission?"

        Nikita nodded, solemnly.

        "He…He came to my house looking for you."

        She nodded again.

        "I know," she admitted, quietly.

        Gray rose from the bed and paced for a moment before dropping back into a chair.

        "This…this is too much, Nikita," he stated. "I…I can't get involved in…whatever this is. I have a daughter to take care of I…I'm just a regular guy trying to make a living. I don’t know anything about this cloak and dagger stuff."

        "I'm not asking you to be a part of it, Gray," she assured, again kneeling before him and catching his fidgeting hands between hers.  "I only asked you here because I have a decision to make and I…you need to be part of that decision." She could tell she peaked his interest then as he finally met her gaze.

        "What is it?"

        "I'm pregnant, Gray," she confessed, watching him closely. "With your child."

        Gray stared at her in shock. Okay, maybe he did have some thoughts on what she might want to see him for again, but most of them centered around them either getting back together or a last goodbye. Never had he suspected her reason would be a baby.

        Nikita watched as a dozen different emotions flicked across Gray's face. Disbelief, wonder, confusion and finally joy. He pulled her to him and kissed her with all the delight he could muster.

        "A baby!" he whispered, breathlessly, when they parted. He cradled her face in his hands as though she was the finest porcelain. "You're gonna have my baby?"

        She nodded, stunned at his reaction, but relieved at least that he wasn't upset.

        "Oh, Nikita." He kissed her again, softly, leisurely. "I love you."

        "Gray," she warned, pulling away, gently. "It…it isn't that simple. I…I don't know if they'll let me have it…"

        "Who?" Gray demanded.

        "The…the people I work with. Gray, I belong to them, I can't just ask for maternity leave and expect them to agree. They wouldn't even let me have a relationship with you." Nikita shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid what they will do when I tell them. Nothing can get in the way of my work, nothing."

        "Nikita, that's insane!" Gray protested. "No one owns someone else. This is the twentieth century, slavery is against the law…"

        "It's…it isn't slavery it…" Nikita struggled to find the words to explain. "It's part of my contract. My contract is final and if I…If I try to go against them they'll…they'll…"

        "What, fire you?" Gray asked, confused and she shook her head.

        "No, you don't get fired from a place like this, Gray. There is only one way you can leave and it is permanent."

        Gray shook his head in shocked fury.

        "They'll kill you?" he croaked and she nodded. "No! We…we can go to the police we…"

        "No, Gray," she refused. "We can't. These people are everywhere. There is no escape."

        They sat silently for a long time, each adjusting to the news that they would never be allowed to be together. Finally, Gray spoke.

        "What do we do then, Nikita?"

        "Do you want the baby, Gray?" she asked quietly and he nodded.

        "I want you both," he admitted, painfully. "But not if it means your life, Nikita. If these people are truly that…dangerous, then don’t have the baby and don't see me anymore." He reached out to caress her face. "I'd rather live without you and know you're safe then live with you and always be waiting for someone to take you away from me. I lived that horror for two years with my wife, Nikita, I can't do that again."

        "Oh Gray," she sobbed and settled in his lap.

        Gray wrapped his arms around her.

        "I do want to be with you, more than anything," she said.

        He smoothed her hair and held her close.

        "Maybe one day we will, then," he encouraged, softly. "Maybe one day they'll let you go and you can live a normal life." He tilted her head so he could look into her beautiful blue eyes. "I'll wait, Nikita. For as long as it takes. You tell them there is someone waiting for you, someone who loves you and won't ever give up on you."

        Nikita felt the tears slip from her eyes, even as their lips touched. She couldn't expect him to wait for her, she would never be free from the section. But for now, here in this moment, the idea gave her hope and the strength to leave him a second time. For now, however, they still had time and she intended to make the most of it.

        She rose and pulled him with her, guiding him toward the bed. Gray seemed to know what she was asking for and he would oblige. He would give her anything she wanted, for she already owned his heart, and a large piece of his soul.
 
 

Six months later:
 

         Gray glanced up as his doorbell rang, and quickly adjusted the last piece on his model. He looked toward the living area, where Casey was watching cartoons, then he moved to answer the door.

         He saw no one through the peephole, so he opened the door and looked around, puzzled. A noise at his feet alerted him and he glanced down at the small bundle of joy wrapped in a basket with a small satchel attached. Immediately, he bent to retrieve the child and pull him into his arms. A newborn dressed in a soft powder blue sleeper with familiar, pale blue eyes and golden hair. There was no note attached, but the name Jason was stitched across the baby's clothing.

         He regarded the baby boy with both sadness and joy, for he knew where the boy had come from. Gray scanned the area for a sign of Nikita but found no one in the vicinity. He looked again at the baby and smiled, tenderly. He picked up the basket and bag in his other hand then went inside.

         Nikita stepped out from the shadows of the building across the street and stared wistfully after her son and the man she loved. A firm hand caressed her shoulder and she lifted misty eyes toward Michael. She was couldn’t have done any of this without him and she was grateful for constantly covering for her with the section.

         She cast a final glance at the Wellman's home and released a deep, sigh of regret. At least Jason would know his father and she knew Gray would take good care of him. Maybe one day they really would be together and she might get to see her son again. Until that day, she would hold onto the hope that Gray had given her with his unconditional love.

The end.

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