Common Ground

Epilogue

Co-written by Caeria and deb

Hawke had, Michael suspected, suggested dinner at the cabin as a way of clearing the air. While Hawke might have lingering reservations about Michael's relationship with Cait, he had, for the most part, accepted it. Santini, on the other hand, was still angry. He'd said little during dinner, something well out of character for the aging Italian, and Michael had overheard him muttering something to Hawke about not knowing that they were coming.

Dinner finished and dishes washed, Hawke uncorked a bottle of one of his better vintages. Michael took a seat on Hawke's couch, leaving room for Cait beside him. She was, at the moment, absently scratching Tet's head while she surreptitiously watched Santini. There was a slight frown on her face as he stepped outside the door onto Hawke's porch. The frown was quickly erased as Hawke caught her attention with a question about one of her flying students, but it was enough that Michael had seen it.

Excusing himself, he rose and followed Santini out onto the porch and then down to the dock. As Michael stepped onto the platform behind him, Santini glanced up, his surprise showing before his usual scowl of greeting appeared. Unlike times past, however, this scowl had true dislike to it rather than being the usual half-hearted and semi-automatic grumble.

"You followin' me?"

Michael braced himself against his cane. "Yes."

Again there was a flash of surprise, quickly covered. "And why would you be doing that?"

"Because you're making Caitlin unhappy, and I don't like it when Caitlin is unhappy."

That answer made Santini sputter. "I'm making Cait unhappy?"

Michael resisted the urge to sigh at Santini's obtuseness. The man needed to be handled correctly or the problem he was trying to solve would just get worse. Calling him an idiot was not the right approach, no matter how good it might feel. "From what she tells me, you've barely said two words to her in the last month. Cutting her off like that because of her relationship with me isn't fair to her. Caitlin views you as a father-figure, as family. Your active distrust of me is hurting her."

Santini folded his arms and his scowl only deepened. "There are good reasons to distrust you. For one thing, what did you do to her down at that resort?"

"Do?"

"I saw the letter Luis faked, that Cheyenne supposedly wrote. It said she was leaving because you'd abused her." Santini stabbed one pudgy finger in Michael's direction. "Luis had to get that idea from somewhere."

Was that why Santini was being so ornery? "It was Cait's idea to stage a fight, so that she'd have an excuse to turn to Luis for support. She reinforced the idea that I was getting physical with her in subsequent meetings. Given the abduction that followed, we may have been a bit too convincing."

Santini harrumphed. "May have? You nearly got her sold off to the highest bidder!" He shook his head. "You aren't good enough for Cait."

Michael bowed his head slightly. "I quite agree. But she chose me and I'd be a fool to walk away from her."

"I always kind of thought–"

Abruptly falling silent, Santini didn't finish, but Michael knew where he was going. "She would have been good for him," Michael agreed, "in many of the same ways that she's good for me. But Hawke was too afraid to take that chance and it certainly wasn't fair to Cait for her to keep waiting for him to pull his head out of his ass."

Santini snorted, in agreement or amusement, Michael wasn't sure.

"You know," Michael continued, "it's your fault, yours and Hawke's, that I fell for her."

"Now wait a minute, here," Santini protested indignantly. "We didn't start this."

"Start it, no, but what you did was treat me just like you would anyone else. With your insolence and insults, you never treated me like Archangel. Part of my initial attraction to her was that she saw me as Michael, just Michael. Not as someone to be either feared or toadied to. So really, you only have yourselves to blame."

Santini seemed to ponder on that a bit and Michael felt a stirring of hope that he was finally getting through to the other man.

"You said initial attraction."

It wasn't quite a question but Michael answered it anyway. "Whether you believe it or not, I do love her, Dominic." Michael deliberately used the other man's first name. "I could list you a dozen different reasons why."

"But what the hell does she see in you?"

He let out a soft chuckle. "Damned if I know. I'm too old for her, too jaded, and too scarred, both mentally and physically, but she doesn't care about any of it. She's given me a chance at everything I never thought I'd have. I won't give it up. I won't give her up. And I'm tired of you making her unhappy. Hawke and I have found our common ground. He and Marella are working well together. In fact, I think he gives her less grief about Airwolf than he gave me. So now I need to find where our common ground is. Cait deserves that."

Santini scuffed absently at a spot where the stain was worn off of the deck. "Are you willing to swear to me that you're not trying to recruit her as one of your angels?"

"I swear." Michael hesitated, finally deciding to be completely honest. "Recruiting Cait is the furthest thing from my mind. In fact, I'd like nothing better than to pull her off of Airwolf."

"What?" Santini's temper flared, and he turned to confront Michael. "You do and she'll have your head."

"You think I don't know that? Not to mention that it wouldn't be fair to her." It was Michael's turn to look away. "Given the choice, I'd rather see her far away from the Firm and that helicopter and anything else that might hurt her. Sadly, I cannot wrap her in a cocoon and protect her from everything. However, I will do whatever is in my power to keep her safe and happy, and at the moment, that means talking to you."

"I'll be damned."

Hearing the change of tone in Santini's voice, Michael turned toward him, raising an eyebrow in silent question.

"You really are in love with her, aren't you?"

"More than you could ever imagine."

"Huh." Santini eyed him once more. "So no recruiting her over to the White Side?"

"As I already told you, no."

"No breaking her heart?"

Michael shook his head. "Not if I can help it."

Santini grinned. "Cause if you do, String'll kill you and I'll help him dispose of your body."

"I would expect nothing less."

Dom thought for another minute then clapped Michael on the shoulder. "Then I think we've got our common ground." He turned toward the cabin. "Let's go see if String's got any of that fancy wine of his left."

THE END

Author's Note: Deb and I hope that everyone enjoyed reading the story as much as we enjoyed writing it for you.