Fanfiction: The Infamous Baby Test

[rachel500]

Fandom: Airwolf
Series: Finding Family (Story 6)
Summary: Michael babysits Nicky. 
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: Hawke/Caitlin.  Michael/Marella. 
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended.  Written for entertainment purposes only.


The Infamous Baby Test

Part 1

Michael Coldsmith-Briggs III looked up from the book he was reading and across the salon at his fiancée. He adjusted his wire-frame glasses his fingers brushing against his eye patch briefly. Marella was sat in an oversized cream armchair feeding her soon-to-be-godson, Nicky. She was taking care of the baby while his parents, their friends Stringfellow and Caitlin Hawke, spent some time alone together in the run up to their first wedding anniversary.

Marella was a beautiful woman but there were odd times when Michael was just struck by how beautiful she was. Watching her feed the baby, her dark curly hair falling around her face with its smooth café latte complexion and exotic features gifted from her Hawaiian parentage, and her dark eyes softened with love, he was struck anew. And somehow, the incredibly beautiful and intelligent woman sitting across from him had agreed to marry him.

He smiled and ran a finger over his moustache to cover it. It was hard to believe that he had waited so long to court her and to ask her to marry him, he mused. A year before he had been quite happily living in denial about his feelings for his senior aide. It had taken Marella almost losing her life saving his for him to admit he saw her as more than a work colleague or friend. He felt his chest ache a little. The picture of her feeding the baby was bittersweet as it was unlikely to be repeated with a child of their own; Marella couldn’t have children. The bullet she had taken saving his life had ended her hopes of conceiving a child. But they could adopt, Michael thought trying to remain positive, or perhaps surrogacy…there were always options and she would make a wonderful mother. She was already a step-mother in everything but actual name to his daughter Angelina.

His good eye slid to the blonde haired child in jeans and a pale blue t-shirt sprawled across the rug on her stomach finishing up her homework. It seemed strange to him to think that he had not known about her for the first ten years of her life. Since he and Hawke had rescued her from Russia and brought her home, she had become so much part of his life he could no longer imagine his life before. He absolutely adored his daughter. It was the reason why he was sat in casual grey pants and a matching tailored shirt rather than the all-white three piece suit he normally favoured. He still wore it for his official duty of leading the Airwolf programme but at home, at least, he tried normality for Angelina’s sake.

His life had become incredibly domesticated over the past year, he realised as he watched Smokey, the small grey cat Angelina had adopted, sneaking up on Brownie, a young chocolate brown Labrador and pouncing on his tail. There was a moment of chaos as the dog reacted with an excited bark before he was properly disciplined into subsiding by a swipe of a paw over his nose from the cat. Michael felt his lips curve upwards and he glanced over at Marella to find her smiling back at him with the same lively humour lighting up her eyes.

‘She has him well trained.’ Marella commented.

‘Smokey is very intelligent.’ Angelina confirmed happily. She slapped her text book shut and grinned up at her father. ‘I’m done.’ She presented him with her work for inspection.

Michael took in the complicated mathematical equations and checked through them ruefully, dredging the trick to work them out from the recesses of his own memory. He knew Marella was watching them amused. Angelina’s IQ was impressive; she was way ahead of her peers. Michael returned her homework with a nod. ‘Good work.’

‘Can I go out to play now?’ Angelina wheedled.

‘Sure.’ Michael agreed. ‘But stay away from the tree.’ His eye fell to the plaster cast on her arm from her last attempt to climb it.

Angelina rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, Daddy.’ She was about to head out of the room when the phone rang. She scampered into the hallway to answer it and Michael let her. He was learning that it was rarely for him. From the excited chatter of her voice he deduced he had assumed correctly it had been for her. The cat jumped up on the sofa next to him and he raised the book so it climb onto his lap, its paws happily kneading the soft material of his pants before it settled into a curled up position purring softly as Michael stroked behind its ears.

‘You know I suspected it but now I know it.’ Marella commented wryly.

‘What?’ Michael asked bemused.

‘That you were a cat person.’ Marella’s dark gaze dropped pointedly to his lap.

Michael shrugged. ‘Cats are more intelligent.’ He said teasingly. ‘It’s a known fact.’

‘Well…’ Marella was about to enter the light-hearted debate when there was an excited squeal from the hall and Angelina dashed back in.

‘Chrissy’s just invited me to stay over, Daddy. Can I go?’ Angelina asked.

‘Tonight?’ Michael frowned.

‘Please. Chrissy’s mom says she’ll bring me back tomorrow.’ Angelina turned her hopeful blue eyes on her father.

‘Is she still on the phone?’ Michael asked.

Angelina nodded.

Michael nudged the cat which shifted reluctantly to the cushions of the sofa and went to speak with Chrissy’s mother. Having established the invitation was real and that delivering Angelina back to them early the next morning would be fine, Michael hung up and gestured at Angelina.

‘You’d better go get packed. I’ll drive you.’

Angelina hugged him hard and skipped off in a whirlwind.

Marella smiled as Michael resumed his place on the sofa much to the cat’s disgust; it stalked off. ‘Does this mean we have the evening to ourselves?’

Michael nodded. ‘It does.’ He motioned at the baby she was burping. ‘Apart from Nicky.’

‘He’s all fed and sleepy.’ Marella noted. ‘He’ll be out for the count when I put him down in a minute.’ She gave a rueful smile. ‘I have to admit having a couple of days of this little guy has been an eye-opener.’

‘He’s hard work.’ Michael agreed although he acknowledged inwardly that Marella had done the bulk of it. He had to admit that he generally stayed away from babies. As cute they looked, they seemed to quickly create messes Michael would prefer not to participate in cleaning up. It had been a relief to realise that Saint John Hawke’s proposition that he was about to be faced with ‘the infamous baby test’ as the pilot had called it had proven false. But then Michael suspected Marella knew him too well already, he mused.

His thought about Saint John caused him briefly to raise his finger to his lip which had been split when the other man had punched him. It was healing nicely.

Marella’s eyes narrowed on him. ‘I can’t believe he hit you.’

Michael lowered his hand quickly. ‘We hit each other.’ He reminded her.

‘OK,’ Marella conceded, ‘let me correct that; I can’t believe you hit each other.’

‘It was a tense situation.’ Michael said mildly remembering the previous weekend. Saint John had attempted to give his brother another go at his bachelor fishing expedition. The two Hawke brothers, Michael and Saint John’s team-mates, Jason Locke and Mike Rivers, had headed up the mountain in a chopper only to crash after a small explosive took out the tail rotor. Hawke had been badly injured; Mike had suffered a sprained wrist and Locke had knocked his already bruised ribs. It had left Saint John and Michael to go for help.

An hour into the hike they had worked out that the crash had probably been a plan for someone to get their hands on Airwolf and worse in many respects, for someone to try and grab a pilot from the group of women they had left unprotected at the cabin. Not that the women needed protection, Michael considered wryly. They had dealt with the attack and come to help rescue the men.

‘We had a tense situation at the cabin,’ Marella reminded him, ‘you didn’t see me and Caitlin fighting.’

‘That’s because you’re friends.’ Michael said.

‘And you and Saint John aren’t?’ Marella asked.

‘No. We’re not.’ Michael admitted. It was the only thing the two of them agreed on, Michael mused, that and that their only connection was Hawke.

‘Isn’t that going to cause a problem?’ Marella asked frowning as she placed Nicky in the baby carrier.

‘No.’ Michael said firmly. He and the other man had come to an understanding that they would try to get along for the sake of Hawke. Neither of them wanted to put Hawke in the uncomfortable position of having to choose between a close friend and his brother. It was a truce. Of sorts.

Marella sighed and looked as though she was about to say something else when the phone rang. ‘This conversation isn’t over.’ She warned him as she headed out of the salon to answer it.

Michael looked at Brownie who wagged his tail enthusiastically. ‘And you think you have problems.’

Marella came back into the salon scowling. ‘I have to go to Red Star.’

‘What’s the problem?’ Michael asked concerned.

‘There was an accident.’ Marella said. ‘Two of Dorothea’s team seem to have caused an explosion in one of the labs.’

‘I’ll come with you.’ Michael offered getting to his feet.

‘No.’ Marella shook her head. ‘There’s no point both of us going in to deal with a minor emergency and this falls under my job as Project Director. I’ll only be a couple of hours.’ She placed her hands on his chest and kissed him. ‘I’ll drop Angelina off on my way there.’

‘OK.’ Michael said.

‘Can you grab me some diapers from the bedroom?’ Marella said stepping over towards Nicky.

‘What for?’ Michael asked confused.

‘The crèche likes the parents to bring spares.’ Marella explained as she began to gather Nicky’s things from around the salon.

‘Well, why are you taking him to the crèche?’ Michael asked still a little confused.

Marella stopped and turned to look at him in surprise. ‘Well…I…’

Michael pointed a finger at her. ‘You think I can’t look after a baby.’

‘That’s not it.’ She denied heatedly.

‘No?’

‘No.’ Marella said huffily. ‘It’s just…’ she waved the soft toy she held at him, ‘I know you’re not really comfortable around babies.’

His eyebrows rose.

‘Which is fine.’ She added hurriedly. ‘Not everyone is. Which is why I thought I’d take him to the crèche.’

‘I think I can look after him for a couple of hours.’ Michael protested.

She stared at him uncertainly.

‘Like you said, he’s fed and he’s asleep.’ Michael shrugged. ‘I think I can handle that.’

‘OK.’ She said slowly. ‘If there are any problems…’

‘I know your number.’ Michael confirmed.

‘I’d better change.’ Marella said hurrying out of the room. She stopped beside him to kiss his cheek and looked anxiously at him. ‘You know this isn’t a test, Michael.’

‘I know.’ He replied.

‘I wouldn’t do that to you.’ She continued.

‘I know.’ Michael said impatiently. ‘Go and change.’ He motioned at the baby. ‘We’ll be fine.’ He hoped.

Part 2

Michael turned the page on the book and glanced over at Nicky with smug satisfaction. The past hour since Marella and Angelina had left had passed by without incident. He had cooked a simple chicken casserole that was simmering in the oven for when Marella got back and for the past thirty minutes he had been sat with a cup of freshly brewed coffee and his book while Nicky had continued to sleep. It was all going remarkably well, he mused.

‘Those are famous last words you know.’

Every muscle in Michael’s body tensed and he turned his head slowly to find Dominic Santini occupying the armchair beside him. He was looking good considering he was a ghost; same grey wispy curls, same craggy face, slightly stocky body, same wide gap-toothed grin at Michael’s surprise. It wasn’t the first time Dom had turned up and Michael was fervently hoping it was the last.

‘I thought you were done haunting me.’ Michael said when he regained his voice.

‘I am.’ Dom agreed cheerfully.

‘Then what are you doing here?’ Michael asked with exasperation.

‘Well I’m not here for you.’ Dom said his dark eyes twinkling irrepressively. ‘I’m here for Nicky.’

‘The baby?’ Michael looked over at the sleeping child. ‘Why?’

‘Now don’t start panicking.’ Dom said soothingly. ‘I drop by to see him all the time.’ He grinned at the spy. ‘He is named after me you know.’

‘I know.’ Michael said resisting the urge to roll his eye.

Dom gestured at him. ‘You continue doing what you were doing.’

Michael almost returned his attention to the book when he realised Dom wasn’t fading or giving the impression he was going anywhere. ‘Are you just going to sit there?’

‘Why?’ Dom asked. ‘What’s the matter? You expecting company?’

Michael was saved from a reply by the phone ringing.

‘Shouldn’t you get that?’ Dom asked innocently.

Michael glared at him. ‘You were a lot less annoying when you were alive.’ He got to his feet and picked up the phone. ‘ Archangel.’

‘Michael.’ Marella’s voice floated down the line to him.

‘Marella.’ Michael said happy to hear her voice.

‘I think this is going to take more time than I thought.’ Marella said knowing he’d prefer to get the news straight away.

‘How much longer?’

‘I think most of the night. I’ll probably just stay here.’ Marella admitted. ‘There’s a casualty and the lab clean-up…one of the electronic components was being repaired and we have to see if we can salvage…’ she sighed. ‘There’s just a lot to do.’

‘Do you want me to come in?’ Michael asked half-hoping she would say yes.

‘No.’ Marella cleared her throat. ‘I can handle this.’

‘I know you can handle it.’ Michael reassured her. ‘But if you want a hand…’

‘No, really I’m fine.’ Marella said. ‘I’m going to send Traci over to pick up Nicky.’

‘Why?’ Michael asked unthinkingly.

‘Well looking after a sleeping baby for a couple of hours is one thing, Michael.’ Marella said. ‘Looking after a baby overnight is another.’

Michael sighed deeply. ‘I can handle it.’ He insisted.

‘Are you sure?’ Marella said.

‘I’m sure.’ He said in a tone that indicated his decision was final.

‘OK.’

He didn’t like the doubtful note in her voice.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow?’ Michael said.

‘Tomorrow.’ Marella promised. ‘Love you.’

‘I love you too.’ Michael hung up and wandered back into the salon. His slim hope that Dom would have disappeared was dashed immediately.

‘Still going well for you, Michael?’ Dom asked mischievously.

‘Marella has to stay at Red Star.’ Michael admitted. He smoothed his moustache nervously. ‘It’s only a night.’ Alone with a baby, his mind finished. ‘I can do this.’

‘She’d understand.’ Dom said.

‘I’m a grown man.’ Michael said firmly sitting down and picking up his book. ‘I can look after one small baby.’

‘Now those really are famous last words.’ Dom said his bushy eyebrows moving heavenwards.

An hour later, Michael was finding himself in reluctant agreement with Dom as he paced with the squalling baby on his shoulder. Nicky had woken up thirty minutes before and hadn’t stopped crying.

He’d changed him but that hadn’t worked and he wasn’t entirely certain his efforts had been entirely successful as the diaper seemed to droop a little in places. Michael had then attempted to feed him. He’d proudly remembered to warm the bottle and had even acquiesced into following Dom’s instructions on testing the temperature but the little guy didn’t seem to want to take the bottle and carried on screaming.

The cat had departed the salon in protest soon after that and Michael had let Brownie into the garden when the dog had decided to howl in sympathy with the baby.

‘What do I do?’ Michael growled at Dom.

‘I don’t know.’ Dom admitted.

‘What do you mean you don’t know?’ Michael demanded.

Dom shrugged expressively. ‘Hey! I called Caitlin for help when this happened to me.’

‘I don’t think I can call Caitlin and Hawke and tell them I broke their baby.’ Michael snapped.

‘No,’ Dom admitted, ‘but I do think it’s time to call for back-up, Michael.’

Back-up. Dom had a point, Michael conceded. He put Nicky back into the carrier and hurried out into the hallway. He picked up the phone trying to ignore the screaming wails coming from the salon. He started to dial Marella’s number but half-way through he abruptly put the phone down.

He’d told Marella he could do this; he couldn’t call her and admit that he couldn’t. Michael rubbed his head trying to shift the beginning of a headache. His mother. His mother had to know how to deal with a crying baby. He dialled his parents’ house with more speed than grace. The phone rang.

And rang.

And rang.

He put the receiver down with a thump. It was Friday night, he realised. His parents were probably out playing bridge or…or out. He pressed his hands into his face. He was going to have to call Marella. This wasn’t the infamous baby test Saint John had jokingly warned him about; he wasn’t going to fail anything.

Saint John.

Michael lowered his hands. The pilot was due to be Nicky’s godfather; he was the child’s uncle. Not to mention his vast knowledge of baby tests. He had to know how to get Nicky to stop crying. The phone number was in his rolodex in his study. He charged down the hallway and picked up the study extension searching for the number with his spare hand. He found it and dialled it.

‘Hawke.’

‘ Saint John, this is Michael.’ Michael rushed out. ‘I need your help.’

‘You do?’ Saint John asked surprised.

‘It’s Nicky.’ Michael said. ‘Marella had to go out and he won’t stop crying…’

‘I’m on my way.’ Saint John put the phone down before Michael could protest he didn’t want the other man to turn up; all he wanted was advice.

‘Damn.’ He made his way back to the salon and picked Nicky up gently. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried that Dom had disappeared again.

Almost another half an hour passed before Michael heard the doorbell. He was trying very hard to stay calm but Nicky hadn’t let up crying and he was beginning to worry that there was something really wrong with the baby.

He yanked open the front door and Saint John charged in without waiting for an invitation plucking the baby from Michael’s grasp and carrying him into the salon. Mike Rivers smiled apologetically at Michael.

‘Nice to see you again, Michael.’ Mike said as Michael waved him in and they hurried after Saint John.

The pilot was examining his crying nephew with a frown. ‘His diaper’s clean. Did you try feeding him?’

‘No.’ Michael said sarcastically. ‘I figured there was a chance a crying baby couldn’t possibly be hungry.’

Saint John shot him a look.

‘He wouldn’t take a bottle.’ Michael said.

‘Have you burped him?’ Saint John asked.

‘He didn’t eat anything.’ Michael practically shouted back.

Saint John smiled smugly. ‘Babies don’t necessarily need to eat to get wind.’ He looked around. ‘You got a bib somewhere around here?’

Michael sighed and rummaged in the bag bringing out a clean bib. He handed it to Saint John who popped it on his shoulder lifted his nephew and patted his back.

‘Come on, little guy.’ Saint John coaxed. ‘Burp for Uncle Saint John.’

‘Where’s Marella?’ Mike asked over the cries of the baby.

‘She got called into work.’ Michael said sitting down with a weary sigh. ‘She’s going to be gone all night.’

‘Really?’ Saint John commented. ‘You’re sure this isn’t the baby test?’

‘She wouldn’t do that.’ Michael said.

There was a burp and a hiccup. Nicky’s crying subsided into tired whimpers.

‘There you go.’ Saint John popped him down in the carrier.

‘Thank God for that.’ Mike said relieved.

‘You haven’t had a whole hour of it.’ Michael pointed out.

Saint John looked over at the spy and swallowed another smile. Michael’s hair was askew and he bet it wasn’t every day that he allowed anyone to see the level of frustration that was evident in his tense and tired face. ‘Maybe I should take Nicky for the night.’ He offered.

‘No.’ Michael shot back. ‘I said I’d look after him. I’ll look after him.’

The pilot raised an eyebrow. ‘I thought you said this wasn’t a test.’

‘It isn’t.’ Michael returned. ‘It’s a matter of principle.’ He fiddled with his glasses.

‘Do you have any idea how to bathe a baby, Michael?’ Saint John asked. ‘Get one ready for bed?’

‘I’ve seen Marella do it and Caitlin.’ Michael said defensively.

‘Believe me when I say women have this trick of making it look easy.’ Saint John said.

‘He’s right.’ Mike said. ‘It’s some kind of magical thing in the genes.’

‘Fine.’ Michael acceded. ‘Teach me.’

‘Teach you?’ Saint John almost fell into the chair by the carrier.

‘All I need are lessons.’ Michael said determinedly.

‘You really want to do this?’ Saint John asked sceptically.

Michael nodded.

Saint John looked over at Mike as if for guidance and the younger man shrugged. His nose twitched and he scented the air suddenly.

‘Is that casserole?’ Mike asked.

Michael nodded. ‘There’s enough for all of us.’ His natural calm equanimity regained, his calm blue eye met Saint John’s. ‘What do you say?’

‘I vote yes.’ Mike said.

‘You’re thinking with your stomach.’ Saint John pointed out.

‘Your point?’ Mike returned. ‘All we have is day old take-out.’

Saint John sighed. ‘OK.’ He agreed turning back to Michael. ‘We’ll stay and I’ll teach you some basics.’

‘Good.’ Michael said.

Mike grinned rubbing his hands together gleefully. ‘This is going to be fun.’

Both Saint John and Michael turned to glare at him.

Mike looked back at them with mock confusion. ‘What? What did I say?’

Part 3

Marella pulled up in front of the house and switched off the engine tiredly. It had taken all night to clear up the mess the explosion at the lab had caused; both literally and figuratively. She had slept for a few hours at Red Star but she had decided to head home early. She was, she admitted to herself, a little worried about how Michael had coped with Nicky. She half-expected to find the house in chaos, Nicky in tears and Michael fraught with exhaustion and frustration. It was with some trepidation that she opened the front door.

She frowned. The house seemed preternaturally silent. She chucked her keys on the small table by the door, shrugged off her coat to hang it on the pegs in the cupboard and made her way down the hall. She eventually found Michael out on the patio. She paused for a moment by the French doors and stared at him in astonishment.

He had Nicky perched in the centre of the table in his carrier. The baby looked clean and happy; he was awake and gurgling at Michael who was reading the morning newspaper to him as though he could understand every word. Michael himself was dressed casually and seemed relaxed. The rest of the table was set for breakfast; a fresh pot of coffee stood well out of the reach of the baby along with a glass of orange juice, toast and jam. Brownie was chasing something in the garden; Smokey had curled up on a spare patio chair. She shook her head in disbelief at the calm domestic scene.

‘Wow.’ She said interrupting Michael’s commentary on the stock market. ‘I’m impressed.’

Michael’s head whipped round to her. ‘Marella.’ He got up and threw his paper down. He tugged her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly much to her delight. ‘I missed you.’

‘I was only away a night.’

‘It felt much longer.’ Michael said truthfully. ‘Coffee?’

‘Yes.’ Marella nodded. ‘Please.’

‘Take a seat. I’ll get you a cup.’ Michael hugged her briefly before he stepped back into the house.

Marella tickled Nicky and sat down on a patio chair.

Michael arrived back with the cup and poured her some coffee.

‘Well,’ Marella waved at the patio, ‘you seem to have survived fine.’ She wondered at her mixed feelings. She should be happy Michael had done so well, she admonished herself. There was no reason to be annoyed that he had coped so well without her.

Michael was smiling proudly as he looked over at her and caught the fleeting disgruntlement on her face. He rubbed his moustache thoughtfully. ‘I have to admit you were right.’

‘I was?’ Marella asked.

‘I had to call for help.’ Michael confessed. ‘ Saint John came over and gave me a few tips.’

‘ Saint John?’ Marella almost choked on the coffee. ‘Why didn’t you call me?’

‘Well, I wanted to show you I could do it.’ Michael said.

Marella got out of her chair and walked around to Michael. She slid onto his lap, her arms around his neck. ‘You don’t have to prove anything to me.’

‘I know.’ Michael sighed hugging her.

‘I mean it’s not as though we can…’ Marella’s voice faltered.

Michael’s grip on her tightened. ‘There are options, Marella, if you want us to have a baby.’ He cupped her cheek. ‘But I don’t want you dismissing the idea just because I’m hopeless with babies.’

‘Options?’ Marella asked delicately.

‘Options.’ Michael repeated. ‘We could adopt or try surrogacy.’

Marella pulled a face. ‘I think when we want a baby adoption would be the way to go.’

‘Adoption then.’ Michael repeated. ‘When we want a baby.’

Marella leaned down and kissed him. ‘Oh. I have something for you. It arrived by courier this morning at the office.’ She slipped out of his hold and went back into the house. She came back out with an envelope. She handed it to him and retook her seat.

Michael frowned and opened it extracting a buff folder. He opened it and scanned the contents. ‘Damn.’

‘What is it?’ Marella asked curious.

‘The FBI file on Hawke’s parents.’

‘Really.’ Marella snatched it out of his hands. ‘Your contact finally came through.’

‘It’s not a lot.’ Michael said.

Marella glanced over the text. ‘They disappeared?’

‘After the birth of a baby girl.’ He gestured with his cup at her. ‘Obviously the sister referred to in that letter you discovered.’

‘God, Michael.’ Marella’s eyes caught on a stark line of text. ‘The FBI told them Saint John and Hawke were dead.’

‘At least we have proof they were alive and were in witness protection.’ Michael sighed. ‘Hawke’s not going to take this well.’

‘I don’t blame him.’ Marella placed the folder on the table. She pulled at her blouse and grimaced. ‘I’m going to go up and have a shower.’ She kissed him as she disappeared back into the house with her coffee. He turned back to the table and almost yelped in shock. Dom was sitting across from him.

‘I thought you’d gone again.’ Michael said crossly.

‘I did.’ Dom agreed. ‘I could hardly stay around with Saint John on the way.’ He glared at Michael. ‘And by the way what was with hitting him?’

‘He hit me first.’ Michael replied childishly.

‘Yes.’ Dom sighed. ‘I guess he did.’

‘Besides we have an understanding now.’ Michael said waving his coffee cup.

‘Sure. An understanding.’ Dom repeated.

Michael considered the ghost over the rim of his cup. ‘You know about Hawke’s parents.’

‘Yes. I do.’ Dom said.

‘You know where they are?’

‘I told you before, Michael…’

‘Lines. Blurring. I remember.’ Michael said taking a sip of his drink. ‘It says they disappeared after being relocated following an attempt on their lives.’

‘They thought they’d lost one family.’ Dom gestured. ‘They didn’t want to lose another.’

Michael nodded. He could understand the need to protect.

‘Why didn’t they come to me?’ Dom asked plaintively into the silence.

‘They were probably trying to keep you safe.’ Michael said.

‘If they had…’ Dom sighed. ‘They would have found the boys…’

‘And they all would have gone into hiding.’

‘At least they would have been together.’ Dom said. ‘The boys would have been with their parents.’

‘They didn’t do so badly having you raise them.’ Michael said gently.

Dom looked at him with surprise. ‘Why thank you, Michael.’

Michael smiled. ‘Will you be at the cabin tomorrow?’

‘For Hawke and Caitlin renewing their vows?’ Dom nodded enthusiastically. ‘Where else would I be? Not visible you understand. I don’t want to scare anyone.’

‘You seem OK scaring me.’ Michael pointed out.

‘Well, it’s you, Michael.’ Dom sighed again. ‘Thanks for the pep talk.’

‘I didn’t realise ghosts needed them.’ Michael commented. ‘Besides I owed you; I’m not sure I would have proposed to Marella by now without your…er…nudge.’ His blue eye twinkled.

‘I’ve been meaning to congratulate you.’ Dom said. ‘Well, I’d better get going. People to see. Places to be.’

‘Does this mean I won’t be seeing you again?’ Michael asked hopefully.

‘Maybe.’ Dom said with a wide smile. ‘Maybe.’

Michael blinked and the chair was suddenly empty. He sighed and looked at Nicky who gurgled back at him. ‘OK. I miss him.’ Michael whispered. ‘But let’s keep that our little secret?’
The baby smiled back at him and Michael decided to take that as a yes. It seemed to him he’d passed the infamous baby test with flying colours.

fin.