No one stopped her; no one really saw her. She looked like every other tourist or visitor, dressed accordingly and carrying only a small backpack. She looked around the plaza that was bustling with people and discovered whom she was looking for. A dark-haired woman in a blue t-shirt and jeans. The long hair was loosely bound back in a pony tail and she was carrying a backpack. She smiled. It was all so easy. The information had been correct, the shadow keeping track of her target relaying exactly what she had wanted to know; nothing more, nothing less.
The woman watched her target move toward the stalls set up for the buyers and sellers, and she knew she either had to act now or risk a longer observation. But staying here for too long might trigger a memory in one of the people if they were questioned. She decided to act now. Moving gracefully through the larger getting crowd she walked toward an old brickstone building that featured a pub and a souvenir shop. The second floor was partly used for offices and rather empty on a Sunday afternoon. She looked down again and saw her target stop at a table covered with watercolor pictures.
She opened her small backpack and took out what looked like a camera. There were a lot of tourists here, so this was normal. She opened the lens and aimed at the target, then pushed a small button and a soft whirring noise could be heard, as if the auto focus was at work. The picture of the target came into focus. She could see the dark eyes, the smile on the woman's face, and she knew that her target had no idea why she was doing this. She didn't have to. It wasn't personal.
She pushed the second button.
There was a 'click' of a picture being taken, but there was neither a film in the camera, nor was it a camera.
The woman smiled as she saw the result of her muffled 'shot' and stowed the camera away. Screams could be heard from the ground level, but she ignored them, walking away toward the exit. No one stopped her; no one saw her.

* * *

He had been here so often, he practically knew more about the facilities than those who worked here. He could name the instruments, their functions, could fluently read the medication labels and explain to the professionals when to use what and how it influenced the human body. His job demanded a certain amount of knowledge in the field of human medicine and what he hadn't taught himself, he had experienced first-hand. He had a dislike for hospitals, born out of way too frequent use of the facilities on numerous occasions, but he didn't really hate them. They were necessary. They helped him heal his body whenever he had done something to it he shouldn't have. Ironically, most of the time others had injured him. He rarely sought out wounds himself. He was careful. His body was part of his trade. It was a tool. He kept in shape and made sure it didn't get into the way of too many bullets or knives. It didn't always work, but he was still alive, which was a good sign.
Running a hand through his dark hair he sighed silently. Yes, he had been here too many times, but always as a participant, not many times as a watcher. Waiting more or less patiently for the news on a patient. Someone he was very close to. The presence in his mind shifted and his partner wordlessly assured him that he was there. He smiled. Of course he was. Where would he go?
A grimace answered that thought and he retreated, needing to be alone. His mind was in overdrive, running through what had happened in the last twenty-four hours, adding its own comments, sarcastic and downright nasty sometimes, and he was having trouble getting a straight thought through the cluttered mess that occupied him.
Where had he gone wrong? When had he let his guard down? When had a casual relationship become so much more? When had he become a liability to others and not the other way around?
The soft steps of a nurse approaching him tore him out of his thoughts. She was rather petite, blonde and dressed in the pink and blue nurses' uniform this hospital used. It was an obnoxious color combination, part of him thought, but it immediately told you who was a nurse among the crowds of people.
"Mr. MacKenzie?"
He nodded.
"Surgery is over and we have moved your wife to post-op. She will remain there for another twelve hours to monitor her condition and then assign her a regular room."
He nodded once more. "How is she?"
He had read the preliminary police reports while waiting and Karr had pulled what he could from the hospital's database. It wasn't much, but it told him enough.
"The doctor will be along shortly. He can tell you exactly."
With that she disappeared and left Nick alone with his thoughts, which were running in only one direction. Not for long though. A middle-aged, mustached man approached him. He was dressed like anyone would expect a doctor to look like and his bespectacled eyes held a rather tired look.
"Mr. MacKenzie? My name is Thomas Morrison. I operated on your wife."
"How is she?" Nick asked tonelessly.
"She suffered what we call penetrating abdominal trauma. The shot wound would have been fatal if she hadn't turned away. This way, the bullet went into her abdomen at an angle that didn't shatter her vertebrae, as was apparently intended. The projectile entered her body on the left lower front and ricocheted off her ribs. It was a clean shot, but there were complications, Mr. MacKenzie."
Nick stared at the doctor with penetrating blue eyes. "What do you mean by complications?"
"We almost lost her during surgery. Your wife has lost a substantial amount of blood. Additionally to the shot wound, she has a ruptured spleen and two cracked ribs. The next few hours are critical. We have to monitor her closely."
"What are her chances?" Nick asked monotonously.
"Currently, they are very slim. I'm very sorry, Mr. MacKenzie."
"I understand."
He understood only too well. Situations like these had been part of his life too many times before, but it was the first time it had hit someone so close to him.
Inside his mind, Karr curled briefly around the very edges of the link and Nick felt something inside of him clench. He didn't let his partner close. He couldn't. He needed to be alone, even though Karr loved Alex just as much, had accepted her completely as part of Nick's and his life.
I'm sorry> he sent and shut himself off.
To the world outside, he was calm and composed, almost cold in his reactions. It was the only way he could deal with it.

The call came hours later. It was the voice of a woman, taunting and full of malicious laughter. It pierced the darkness Nick's mind seemed to have taken residence in, but instead of light there was only more black ink leaking into the mess that was him. Ever since his talk to Morrison, Nick had been haunted by the words. Alex would heal, but there might be permanent damage. Because of him. He had caused it.
"You were too late! I got her good, right? Too bad she isn't dead, but that can be changed, MacKenzie. Maybe she'll even die on her own, right?" The woman laughed loudly, shrilly, almost insanely.
Nick's face hardened with every word, listening to every syllable and silently promising revenge.
"You have made a mistake, Shawna," he said coldly.
"You are the one who made the mistake!" she hissed. "You and you alone. It's on your conscience!"
"It would if I had one," he replied, in complete control of his voice.
She laughed again. "Oh really? Well, maybe I have to pick another target then. Someone closer than the woman. Maybe the man you work with. What's his name? Michael Knight?"
With that she hung up.
Nick's emotions raged through him but nothing of it showed outside. Karr felt the full brunt of them and he silently watched Nick glare at the phone, close to picking it up and throwing it at the wall.
_Do it, he said calmly. _It helps.
Nick inhaled deeply, then let his breath out slowly. _No. It would just play into her part of the playing field.
He picked up the phone and dialed a number, listening to the ringing. Karr remained where he was. Any further comments or actions would just get Nick into a new fit of rage.
Finally someone picked up.
"It's me," Nick said, voice almost inflectionless. "I need your services. Invisible security detail."

* * *

Michael Knight arrived in Victoria via the Tsawassen ferry five hours later. Kitt had broken all speed limits and they had more than once nearly been caught by police radar pistols, but his partner had made sure there was no picture and no evidence of their passing. The call about the shooting had reached them at four in the morning on their way back from an assignment and Michael had not lost time going anywhere but here. Devon would throw a fit since he was expecting him in LA and he should actually be there right now, but Michael couldn't care less.
Kitt in turn was worried as well, reflecting the thoughts of his partner, and he was trying to reach Karr. He was greeted with walls and shields, and he had little success in stretching a tendril through the thin cracks. Karr didn't want to talk to him and he respected it, but it also meant he had no idea how bad it really was. When they finally made it to the hospital and Michael identified himself, he was shocked to hear about Alex's condition.
And Nick was nowhere to be found.

* * *

Past midnight. The hospital. Quiet, but not deserted. People dressed in white or pink walked by the open door and from the direction of the nurses' station Michael could hear the clink of metal on metal, the soft whir of a computer printer, and the distant sound of a telephone.
The world kept turning. For other people.
His world, and the world of his friends, was frozen in time. It would not move again until a pair of eyes opened. Until Alex was out of the woods. Her condition had marginally improved and Michael felt hope rise. She had been conscious enough to open her eyes, but had immediately succumbed to sleep once more. The doctors were positive that she would make it, though there was still a slight danger of a relapse. That he was allowed to stay here throughout the night hours had been a small miracle, mostly brought forth by a heated discussion and pointing out that he was here in official business as a bodyguard. It was a lie, but Michael didn't care. He was covering for Nick as well, telling everyone that he was currently kept away from the hospital because of police matters.
Alex had been registered as Nick's wife to assure a simple handling of the bureaucratics. Nick was her next of kin because he was her 'husband' and no more questions were asked. That he wasn't here threw up questions behind his back and Michael did his best to diffuse any suspicions.
Too many tubes were running in and out of Alex's body, too many machines were beeping or silently recording each breath, each beat of her heart. Her eyes looked bruised, dark circles the only color in her face. Transfusions had been given to restore the lost blood. Michael's eyes briefly scanned over the blanket covering her abdomen. He had stopped the doctor once and asked him, pulling out his badge to insure he received a straight answer. He knew how bad gun shot wounds to the stomach could be and this one had been bad. Shot wounds were bad in general. While they looked like small holes in the skin, the actual wound was much larger and needed extensive cleaning and surgery. Alex had bled a lot, had nearly died, and only the fact that she had turned just before being hit to look at something had saved her life.
Why had it happened?
It was a question that had been insufficiently answered by Nick. Kitt was currently carefully questioning Karr, who was just as shocked about the incident as his driver. According to Nick it had been an accident. According to his expression, it had been more. Much more. While he understood his friend being tense and stressed out because Alex had been shot, he couldn't place all the emotions he had been allowed to see, or lack thereof. There was more. Much more.
Alex meant a lot to Nick, even if he had never confessed it. They were a couple, one of the strangest Michael had ever encountered, but he wouldn't question their love. He had read the police report of the shooting and he knew that it had been a targeted shot from high above, somewhere on the roofs, and that it had been aimed at Alex personally. She had been in a plaza where a small antique market had been set up, surrounded by people. Artists had offered their work for sale and restaurants and bistros lined the sides of the buildings. It had been a tourist magnet, with dozens of camera wielding foreigners. There had been no political figure present, no important business figure, no one special. Alex had been the target.
But why?
Kitt still had no answer to that question either. Karr was refusing to talk to him, probably because Nick was refusing Karr to open up.
Michael sighed heavily. As it looked, Alex would hopefully be fine. While she had lost blood and her body had suffered severe trauma, she was young and strong. The only question mark remaining was about lasting damage to her uterus. Michael had heard all the details and he knew it would be a shock to her. It had most definitely been a shock to him, and he had no real idea how Nick had taken it.
In the silence of midnight Michael watched and waited for the world to start turning again.

* * *

Nick sat in the silence and loneliness of a small park, gazing at the dark sky where a few stars were out. The moon had disappeared behind a cloud cover that was unlikely to break within the next few hours. It was a quite unspectacular night and except for the occasional sound from the near-by street, there was nothing else. No crickets, no dogs barking or cats fighting. Only him.
Him and, in his mind, his partner. Karr had been unusually shielded throughout the last hours, as if he was trying not to be pulled into the maelstrom of negativity that was Nick's mind. Nick was kind of thankful that Karr was upholding the shields. His mental strength was waning and despite his denial, he knew he was slowly breaking down in a way he hadn't believed possible.
Nash had indoctrinated the necessity to remain emotionally unattached into him. Never to trust anyone, to rely on himself alone, to be more than a human being. It had turned him into less, he knew today. He had been cold and unemotional, had worked like a machine, following orders, never questioning, always accepting. He had killed to prevent being killed. Nick was ruthless when need be, he would cross the line so many others toted.
But something inside of him had shriveled and died in that time, only to flare into bright life throughout those years that followed the day the KARR project had been terminated. Alex had been part of it all of a sudden, had grown to be more to him than a mere associate or ally. He had opened up to her, to Michael, to Kitt, and of course Karr. He had let them all closer than he wanted. Karr first out of necessity because they were linked. Michael and with him Kitt had won his trust. Alex had won his love.
Clenching his jaw, he fought against the tears that threaten to spill. He had never had to fight them in the past. Before his 'change'. He had been in complete control, nothing had shattered the walls of indifference and harsh coldness. The warmth of humanity had washed those walls away. He liked what he was now, despite his efforts to keep everyone still at bay. He wasn't about to start crying now, although it was damn close.
Nick began to breathe in and out slowly. He had to get in control again. Karr let a bit of his essence trickle down the link and he closed his eyes.
Sorry> Nick mumbled.
Accepted> was the whispered reply.
No more words passed. It wasn't necessary. Sometimes, their communication was beyond words.
Nick would find the shooter and when he did, God help her. She had done more than inflict pain. She had taken a stab at his soul and left him bleeding.

* * *

Morning broke and with it, the nurses shooed Michael out of Alex's room, telling him the doctor requested privacy for the examination and all the other early-morning routines. After two hours, Dr. Morrison met to talk with him and gave him a preliminary of Alex's current condition. It looked better than yesterday, but still not the way it should.
"Damn," Michael muttered as he leaned against the coffee machine.
He had called Bonnie and told her what had happened. She had immediately volunteered to fly to Victoria and he was grateful for it. Now he sipped at the tepid coffee that managed to taste like something had died in it, even after three spoons of sugar.
He should just confront Nick. Michael smiled wryly at the idea. As if his friend and partner would reveal any more information if asked face to face. It was more like Michael would get a round of threatening glares and a mask to deal with. But well, it was worth a try.
//Kitt? Any idea where Nick is?//
//Outside in the car park// was the answer.
Michael frowned. //He's coming up to visit?//
//I think you should come down here, Michael// Kitt said, a strange inflection to his voice.
Okay, weird. Michael threw away the half empty styrofoam coffee cup and made his way to the car park.

*

Actually, Nick had done more than just sit inside the Stealth and stare at the slowly filling parking lot. Kitt was parked next to a cluster of trees left of the side entrance and Karr had pulled up in the empty lot right of his brother without further comment. The two black cars sat silently together, a picture of elegance and power. Nick had gotten out of the custom-made shell, gazing up the concrete building that was the hospital, but he hadn't made a move to enter.
"Good morning, Nick," Kitt greeted him softly, his voice friendly and gentle as always.
Nick dredged up a smile. "Morning, Kitt."
"Michael has been with Alex throughout the night. Her condition is improving," Kitt told him.
Nick briefly closed his eyes. "Thanks."
"You should go and see her," the AI added carefully, giving Nick a verbal nudge.
The ex-agent stiffened slightly. "I will."
"Visiting hours will start in ten minutes."
"Kitt?"
"Yes?"
"Can it."
"As you wish." There was an audible smile in Kitt's voice.
Nick shot the black TransAm a dark look, but he stayed where he was, not entering the hospital. Something seemed to be on his mind and a short inquiery toward Karr confirmed it. The dark-haired man leaned against the Stealth and gazed thoughtfully at Kitt.
"Kitt?"
"Yes?"
"I'd like to ask you something."
If Kitt was surprised, it didn't show in his voice. "Of course."
Nick rarely initiated a conversations that went any deeper than what scratched the surface of his self and his emotions. This time, Kitt had this unmistakable feeling that it went deeper. Nick gazed at the distance, watching several cars pull up onto the parking lot. Employees and visitors got out, entering the hospital. No one gave him a second look.
"This is difficult for me," he finally said and it sounded like it had taken him all his strength just to release the words.
"Understandably," Kitt agreed.
Nick smiled briefly. "Not for the reasons you think. Yes, it was difficult to see her lying in a hospital, fighting for her life. I know she has gotten better, I know she is getting better."
But? Kitt thought to himself.
Nick fought an inner battle. "It's what I feel, Kitt, and I can't deal with it." His voice was soft, almost inaudible for human ears, but Kitt's sensors picked it up clearly. Surprise flooded him by the confession and he felt Karr's nod. "I never had to deal with it before. Never."
"What do you feel?" Kitt asked quietly.
"Guilt." The blue eyes rose and looked at the black car, as if looking into Kitt's eyes.
"Because the shooter was trying to get to you, using Alex." It wasn't a question.
Nick nodded nevertheless. "I knew I would put her into danger the moment this… relationship grew into more than what I had ever intended. I lost control."
"You can't control life, Nick."
He smiled humorlessly. "So far, I have."
"You were only responsible for yourself," Kitt told him. "And later Karr. Never someone else."
"I never intended to have it go this far," Nick murmured. "I knew the danger, I knew it…. I let it happen against my better judgment."
"You are human, Nick. It's a natural reaction to something you needed."
He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. "I wish I could agree." There was a brief silence. "How did you manage to deal with it, Kitt?"
"It was never a problem. Michael was my driver and partner. I had to look out for him." A small amount of mirth entered the AI's voice. "How else did he make it until today?"
Nick grinned, but it faded quickly. "What you share goes beyond programming, Kitt. Your concern is no longer a subroutine."
"Neither is yours."
He rubbed his face tiredly. "For me, it meant survival not to burden myself with it."
"You have managed fine since we've known you, Nick. With emotional attachment."
Kitt was voicing what Nick had never done. He had emotionally attached himself to a lot of people in different degrees. He had survived it; he had even grown through it.
"As for how I dealt with it, I accepted it, Nick. Michael is my partner and closest friend, now more than ever. Feeling worry and sometimes even guilt is part of sharing my life with him."
"But has your mere presence ever gotten him shot?"
"In a way yes."
Nick frowned.
"My existence sometimes brings forth those individuals who want to possess me. Like Geiger." Kitt's voice darkened. "Michael is in their way, so they will try everything to remove him. Or use him to get to me. But I wouldn't want to give up my 'attachment' to him, not for anything in the world. I don't want to be alone. And neither do you."
Nick only lowered his eyes.
"I talked to a very wise woman once, who told me a few things I have never forgotten. Even though you have to separate your heart from your mind when it comes to a fight, never close your mind to what your heart tells you."
He snorted. "Doesn't work that way."
"It has for me. I might not have a heart as a human being might define it, but I have to separate my feelings from logic each time Michael is in danger. It's the only way to help him, to be efficient, but it doesn't mean I have to stay like that when everything is done and over, Nick."
"Yeah," he said slowly. "Maybe."

Michael found Nick leaning against the Stealth, staring off into the distance. His hands were in his jeans pockets and the expression on his face told him more than enough. It was the 'don't approach, don't even talk to me' façade. As usual, he ignored it. Knowing Nick for so long now, he had developed a rather thick skin concerning the glares and deadly looks.
//Tread carefully, Michael// Kitt advised.
"Figured out why?" Michael asked, not beating around the bush.
//That's not what I meant!//
//Handling him like a raw egg won't make it better, pal//
Nick had to know why it had happened. Otherwise, he wouldn't be here, alone, out in the car park, staring down innocent trees. Now a pair of cold blue eyes met Michael's and Michael had to fight not to smile. Yes, the usual game. But by now he knew how to circumvent the rules and bend those who couldn't be circumvented.
"None of your business," was the brisk reply.
At least Nick had said something. Small but not too insignificant a progress. Only when Nick refused to talk was the time to bring out the big guns. Right now, a carefully applied crowbar should be enough. Kitt had told him that Nick and he had talked, but not about what. While it surprised Michael, he respected it and wouldn't ask any further.
"It is. You know it. Everything concerning you, Alex or Karr is mine and Kitt's business as well. So, what happened?"
"You know what happened." Acid had etched itself into the cold voice.
"Yes, I know. But why did it happen?"
Silence.
"You know that I'll find out sooner or later on my own," Michael told him.
Nick's reply was more silence.
"And if I do, I'm going to kick your stubborn ass over it, so why not make it easier on you and tell me?" he went on.
No reply. The trees were receiving lethal looks instead. Michael sighed.
"I read the police report and I know Alex was the intended target. There are only two reasons why: something she is involved in or someone she's involved with. Since she's not exactly in the police business and since working as a Ranger doesn't result in being the target of a professional assassin, I take door number two."
Michael watched Nick closely and while someone who didn't know the ex-agent wouldn't see a change, Michael saw it. He was on the right track.
"So let's see where option number two leads. Alex is involved with a lot of people on a professional or friendship basis, but only one person has a close relationship with her, namely you. If someone would want to hurt you, Alex would be a likely target."
Nick's eyes flashed and he directed his lethal looks at Michael. "Why don't you take your guessing game and beat it before I do it for you?"
The words were soft, slightly harsh, and Michael silently thought 'Bingo, gotcha'. Bull's-eye. One hundred percent right on target.
"Who was it, Nick?"
"You really don't know when to leave the spotlight, hm?"
Michael smiled brightly. "No."
Nick glared, then gave up and looked away again.
"Nick, we've known each other for how many years now? You know you can trust me and I know I have to hit you over the head for you tell me the truth every time you think it's personal and it isn't. Whatever affects you, it also affects me and Kitt."
"It affects more people than I wish it would," Nick mumbled.
Michael waited. A first crack had appeared in the armor and he had to wait for the pressure to build, for the first chinks to fall off so the dam could break.
"I'm a liability to her."
That was new. Usually Nick regarded others as a liability for him. He had never once voiced it the other way around.
"Why?"
A brief, dark look. "Do you think she'd be here if we had never met?" Nick snapped.
"No, maybe she wouldn't. Maybe she would have been run over by a car on the street. Maybe she would have been attacked by a wild animal on the job. She might have been injured a million different ways, but this is what happened."
"Because of my presence." Nick closed his eyes and pinched his nose between thumb and forefinger. "Someone targeted her to get to me. Looks like it worked." His voice sounded heavy with weariness.
The world lurched a bit under Michael's feet. "Who?"
Silence. This time, Michael didn't coax. He knew he'd receive and answer.
"A woman called Shawna Winterchild."
"Why?"
"Her brother. I killed him."
Okay, he had an explanation. Michael briefly wondered whether or not to dig deeper, then gave in to his curiosity and did.
"Why did you kill him?"
Nick gave him a humorless smile. "Because it was my job, Michael. Pure and simple. Roy Winterchild was famous for his bombs and I had been hired to take him out after he had killed over one hundred people in a bombing. He eluded me for a while, even made a few attempts to kill me, but in the end I succeeded." He shrugged. "Now his sister appears, after so many years. She sent me a message just before the shooting." There was a slight tremor in the otherwise tightly controlled voice. "I was too late."
//Kitt?//
//Karr has released all he has to me now that Nick has volunteered the information to you as well. The mail Nick was sent came in ten minutes before Alex was shot//
No time at all to do something, Michael realized. No time.
"So, what about Shawna?"
"I will find her."
Michael recognized the promise immediately. Nick would do what he had to, he knew. He couldn't stop him. This was too personal to deter him. Aside from Karr, Alex was the closest person to him. Hurt her and you had to answer to MacKenzie.
"Need back-up?"
There was a brief hesitation, then Nick shook his head. "I won't kill her, Michael, if that's what you are afraid of."
"No, that's not it. I'm just offering help."
Nick's gaze was drawn to the hospital complex. "Just stay with her. I don't want her to be alone. Just in case."
Michael nodded. "Okay. And Nick. Be careful."
Nick simply nodded and got into the car. Half a minute later he was off the parking lot and had disappeared in the morning traffic.

Michael watched the black car until it was swallowed by the traffic, then suddenly he blinked. Part of the conversation ran by him again and he realized the magnitude of trust Nick had bestowed on him. He had asked him to protect Alex. What sounded like a simple request was more when looked at from a different angle, when knowing Nick as Michael did.
"Whoa," he only muttered.

* * *

Nick had stopped by the warehouse to take a shower and get a change of clothes. The silence of the building was weighing him down as he walked down the stairs, his steps unnaturally loud. Karr was parked in his usual spot, highlighted by the sun shining through the skylights, and appearing slightly surreal. Nick slipped on his jacket, then rubbed his eyes.
You should sleep> the AI rumbled softly through the link.
Sleep has to wait>
Your performance will suffer>
He glared a the Stealth. My performance will be just fine, Karr. I can't waste time on this!>
Karr shut up, but Nick was aware of his misgivings. Ever since the link had grown into what it was today, an intimate connection between two minds that didn't try to take each other out, Nick had been aware of the emotions under Karr's hard surface. He worried, he cared and he appreciated the existence of his driver. Sometimes it turned into criticism and bland disapproval like right now.
He was about to leave when the cell phone rang. Nick shot it an annoyed look, quickly checking the caller's number on the display. A frown crossed his features as it showed him the hospital's. He answered and found that the caller was none other than Dr. Morrison.
"Mr. MacKenzie? Thomas Morrison from the University Hospital here."
"What can I do for you doctor."
"I wanted to inform you that this morning, we had to operate on your wife again."
Nick's face went blank all of a sudden. "Why? What's wrong?" he wanted to know.
He could almost see Morrison shake his head. "I'd rather talk to you in person, Sir."
"Why?" he repeated the question, the temperature in his voice dropping.
"Mr. MacKenzie…." A sigh followed the short silence, then Morrison said calmly, "Your wife had a miscarriage caused most likely by the trauma of the shooting and succeeding injury of her body."
"Miscarriage?" he echoed, his voice sounding hollow and small to his own ears. "She was pregnant?"
"I'm sorry, but I thought you knew. Alexandra was in her fifth week."
The words barely registered. Nick's mind froze for a second before, with professional detachment, started working again. "Are you sure?" His voice sounded even.
"Yes, we are sure. I take it you two didn't know?"
"No." At least he hadn't and he doubted Alex had. She would have told him, wouldn't she? He remembered the questionnaire from the hospital, answering the pregnancy question with a no. "Have you told her yet?"
"No. We are still waiting for the last results to come in. It's why I wanted to ask you to come by and…."
"Don't tell her, Dr. Morrison."
"Sir…."
"Don't tell her," he repeated. "About the pregnancy. She wouldn't be able to take it," Nick lied. "We will talk later."
"Mr. MacKenzie, I can't withhold information from a patient!"
"She is my wife, Dr. Morrison. We will talk about it, but not right now. Not without me present. Believe me when I say that it would be too much on top of everything else." His acting was perfect.
There was a short silence, then a sigh. "Alright."
As Nick hung up, the room started to spin and waver. He tried to focus. He was dimly aware of Karr touching him, but he couldn't answer his partner's calls. The words of the doctor resounded in his head and all he could think of was the loss of life. Part of him, part of Alex. Gone. Killed. Terminated by a woman who he had never met. He stared at the cell phone and suddenly hurled the high-tech device against one wall. The phone shattered, sending pieces of plastic flying though the air.

* * *

The two men and one woman walking down the hospital corridor were a strange sight and drew some looks from patients and visitors alike. The nurses just gave them one look but didn't think about them any further. They were used to all kinds of people coming here every day. The dark-skinned, tall and muscular man in front was looking at room numbers, silently counting until he reached 441. The blonde woman following on his heels appeared like right out of a bathing suit commercial, though without the bathing suit and dressed in white jeans and a skin-tight, black halter top. Shoulder-length blonde hair had been bound back out of her face. The last of the trio was a young man in a suit, clutching a bouquet of flowers, his hair neatly combed back. He was nervous, almost fretting, and mumbling to himself.
"Here we are," Bear announced, smiling. "441."
"Are you sure she'll want to see us?" Duck fiddled with the tie he had unearthed in the back of his van for the umpteenth time. While his suit was clean, smoothly ironed and matched the tie, it looked strange on him. "I mean, what if Nick's in there…."
Casey rolled her eyes. "They won't go about it in her condition, now will they?"
Duck grimaced. "I wasn't implying that, Blondie! Just that she might not be up for more visitors."
"Only one way t'find out." Bear opened the door and stuck his head in. "Hey there, beauty!"

Alex had been trying to concentrate on a rather ridiculous article in a magazine, but her brain wasn't up to speed yet and she tired easily when reading. Yesterday she had been wheeled off into surgery once more because of sudden bleeding and abdominal cramps. When she had woken, Dr. Morrison had calmed her fears. Everything was fine. Apparently something had ruptured and had to be stitched again. Alex had been too woozy to ask. She remembered in a fuzzy sort of way that Nick had been briefly there, but she had been too tired to keep her eyes open. Michael had left her about two hours ago to take care of some business and Bonnie wouldn't be here till later. So when the door opened and the bald head of Bear appeared, she smiled widely.
"Hey! Come on in!"
Casey and Duck piled in behind the huge mechanic, each dressed more or less for the occasion of leaving the Shop and looking presentable. In Casey's case that wasn't so hard. She looked ready to shop even when wearing a mechanic's overall. Bear had opted for a blue shirt and clean jeans instead of a muscle tank top and smudged pants, and Duck – Alex did a double take.
"Whoa! Duck! Having a date?"
Duck almost blushed, but he hid it behind a grimace and held out the flowers. Alex smiled at the gesture and took them. She'd have to ask the nurses for a vase.
"He unearthed it from one of his many mysterious crates," Casey chuckled. "You wouldn't believe it until you actually saw him in a suit that our Duck owns one." She sized him up and winked at Alex. "Cute, hm?"
"Cut it out, beach babe," the man in question grumbled.
"Looking good," Alex commented. "Wear it more often. Might even hide you from Karr for a while. It sure confuses my optical sensors."
Bear snorted and Casey giggled. Duck sighed. "No appreciation. I'll go and find a nice nurse to help me get a vase," he muttered and left.
Alex smiled. "So, what brings you guys all the way to Victoria?"
Bear had grabbed a chair and was straddling it, massive arms crossed on the back of it. "Oh, no idea. I heard a friend of ours got inna load of trouble. Thought we might pay a visit."
"Nick's not here," she teased. "And you know that he always is in trouble."
"With you, of course he is," Casey quipped.
"Aw, girl, we're here t'cheer you up," the mechanic rumbled. "So, what happened? I heard you were shot."
She nodded slowly. "Don't know much about it now and the police are rather in the dark, but someone shot me in the middle of downtown. I was lucky there were paramedics present because of the near-by sailing race preparations. Nick's investigating, that much I know. He won't talk to me about it, though."
"That's our Nicky," Casey commented, eyeing the geologist closely. "How bad is it, Lex?"
"It was bad, but I'm fine. I'll be out of here soon if everything goes right."
Bear gently squeezed her hand. "I hope so. When we heard, we were all worried."
Alex felt touched. "Thanks," she managed. "But you didn't really have to drive here, guys."
Casey grinned. "Don't worry. Duck was all enthusiastic about driving, so we sat him behind the wheel and away we went."
They talked for quite a while, until Alex was too tired to keep her eyes open any longer. Duck, who had returned with a vase for the flowers, was the last to leave, shooting the dark-haired woman a worried look.
"I'll be fine, Duck," Alex reassured him.
He gave her an embarrassed half-shrug, then carefully closed the door behind him. Alex drifted off into sleep.

As Duck climbed into the colorful and battered van he called his own, his face was drawn into a thoughtful frown. Bear heaved his muscular frame onto the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. As old as the van looked, it was in quite a good shape and Duck kept the engine in perfect running condition. Now the mechanic looked at his younger friend and noticed the frown.
"What's wrong, Duck?"
"Did you notice someone watching us?"
Casey laughed. "Yeah, quite a lot of people. Could've been your outfit, Feathers."
"Shut up, bubble brain. I'm talking watching, not gawking at your butt."
"You're the only one who does that," Casey retorted.
"No, I'm the one staring at your breasts," Duck corrected her with a leer in his eyes. Then he grew serious. "Someone was keeping an eye on us when we went to see Alex, people. I'm sure."
"You don't happen to suffer from persecution mania?"
Bear silenced Casey with a raised hand. He gave Duck a piercing look. "You sure?"
"Pretty much. I'm not some kind of super agent, but I know when someone's paying undue attention to me."
"Who?"
"Not sure. It's just a feeling."
Casey sighed deeply. "The boy has feelings," she teased.
Duck took a friendly swat at her and she moved lithely out of the way of his hand.
"Maybe Nick's having someone keepin' an eye on Lex," Bear mused.
Duck shrugged. "Might wanna call him, hm?"
Casey took her cell phone out and tossed it at Duck. "Here. You go and tell him you're seeing things, Feathers."
He immediately flipped it open and dialed.

* * *

"Do you know what time it is?"
Nick gave the smaller, blond man a cold look and Newkirk sighed. An annoyed expression crossed through the green, bespectacled eyes. He opened the door wide and let him in. Nick stepped into Newkirk's humble abode, a large apartment on the second floor of a motel complex owned by some remote relative. Nick knew exactly what time it was. Shortly after three in the morning and a rather normal time for Newkirk to be up.
"I'm not done yet and you know it, Nick. I'm fast but not that fast!"
"What have you got so far?"
Newkirk, one of Nick's more infrequent informants and a world-class surveillance specialist, freelance, gestured at his cluttered desk. It resided in the middle of an equally cluttered office room that stood in stark contrast to an almost insanely clean and orderly living room through which Nick had just walked. Newkirk belonged to those who kept their work and private space strictly separated, who could leave one room in a mess and have the next clinically clean. He was an eccentric like all of Nick's associates and contacts, and since he had been fired by a government agency he had made more money on his own ventures than all of his life before.
"I ran a lot of checks on the whole Winterchild family and let Orby have a peek as well, but we haven't found anything yet."
Orby was Newkirk's rather nifty and very sophisticated computer. It wasn't an artificial intelligence, but it had some rather outstanding programs any agency would drool over to get their fingers on. "There's no address for Shawna Winterchild and what I could find led me nowhere. She was born, she went to school, she disappeared off this planet."
"Impossible."
"I know, I know, but it's a needle in a haystack, Nick. Oh, but I have some good news: Mother has found something on the bullet."
Mother was Newkirk's on and off partner in cases he needed them. He was a weapons specialist and there wasn't a gun he couldn't rattle facts off like an encyclopedia on overdrive. Nick had met the heavy-set and sometimes rather phlegmatic man twice in his life. He was impressed by the sheer knowledge behind those watery eyes, but he had never used Mother's services.
"The bullet didn't come from a normal rifle," Newkirk went on. "This one's a special construction, handmade, Mother thinks. Very rare. He's currently checking licenses and special orders."
"Tell him to forward the results directly to me."
"Sure thing."
"When will you be done with the search?"
"Another twenty-four or so."
Nick shot him a dark look. "I need it sooner."
"Hey, I'm doing what I can on this! I've broken into every government mainframe I could find and there is nothing on her!"
"If you can't do it, I'll give it to someone else, Newkirk."
The blond looked shocked. "Listen, Nick, I've always come through for you with whatever you wanted. Gimme ten more, okay?"
"Ten hours, but that's it. I need the information, Newkirk."
With that Nick left the small apartment and walked toward Karr. Normally he would have done most of the search himself, but he had other things to do. Employing Newkirk had been the next best solution to entering an automatic search program, which would take longer than Newkirk to get results. He could have sought out his other contacts, but Newkirk was easier to threaten than them. Plain and simple.
Nick checked in with the person whose talents he had employed to keep an eye on Michael and Alex, but there were no new developments there. Michael was either at the hospital or at the Foundation's small outpost, and Alex was only in her hospital room. Visitors were few but all people Nick knew. He remembered Duck's phone call and had to smile. The man had talent, even though he had no idea who had been watching him, whether the person had been male or female, close or further away. But he had felt watched. Since Duck was also a bit paranoid sometimes, it might have been that as well. Nick felt strangely touched by his friends' display of loyalty. They had come all the way up here to visit Alex. Nick knew it would do her a lot of good and Duck had promised they'd drop in a few more times.

Six hours later he received a short mail with an address from Newkirk, as well as a note from Mother who had found the owner of the rifle. Roy Winterchild. An addition to the email told him that the weapon had been confiscated. According to Mother, the weapon had been destroyed professionally and everything that could be had been melted down. It didn't officially exist any longer.
He smiled grimly and turned at the next light, heading for the address.

Karr felt small tremors and vibrations coming through the link. Closely guarded emotions boiled behind walls that couldn't be breached, but even without the direct link into Nick's mind, Karr knew the dark demons that raged just under the surface of Nick's calm demeanor, snarling for blood.
Someone was going to die today.

* * *

The afternoon had started out with light rain, though the sun was still shining brightly. It could do nothing to dampen people's good moods as they sought temporary shelter to wait for it to pass. Nick had parked two blocks away from where Shawna Winterchild had rented an apartment. It was a brand new block, consisting of six stories, containing four apartments on each level. There was no lawn yet and large signs told everyone that there were still condos and apartments for sale and rent.
Queen Gardens Terrace was one of the newer communities that had come to be just in the last six months. People were still moving in and new houses were being built all around. The roads were finished but it would most likely take another year to appear really lived in. Nick ignored it all as he approached the apartment block, noting that there was no security guard and that the main door was open. It was almost like an invitation.
He took it.

Shawna took in an involuntary breath as she discovered the man she had hated for so long; the man she had been unable to trace for years. Death had crossed the threshold of the house in the form of Nicholas MacKenzie.
"So you found me, MacKenzie," she taunted him.
There was no reaction she could see in the smooth, rather handsome face. Cold blue eyes fixed on her.
"One chance, Shawna. Give yourself up." His voice was as cold as his expression.
"You must be joking!"
"I'm not known for it."
She laughed wryly. "I can believe that."
"I will take you down if you resist."
It was a simple statement that held the promise of death. There was no uncertainty no room for question or disbelief. Shawna smiled. She hadn't expected to live forever, but she had hoped to escape this confrontation with her life. As it seemed, she had nothing else to lose. Without Roy, there was no light any more. He had been her brother, her closest friend, the only family she had had left.
"Give it your best shot, killer," she challenged him, raising her weapon.

* * *

Kitt was closely monitoring his link to Karr. He was doing it at Michael's request, but his driver didn't even have to really beg him to pry. Kitt was worried about Nick and he wanted to keep an eye on him through his brother. Every little fluctuation was analyzed. The four of them were like a close-woven net. Each was connected to the other in one way or the other. Actions of one partnership could reflect badly to the others, and right now, Kitt was scared that what Nick was about to do would not only harm Karr but Michael as well.
Nick was stalking Shawna Winterchild and Michael's guess was pretty much clear as to what might happen if he caught her – and she resisted. And she would. No illusions there either. Nick had told Michael he wouldn't kill her, but he hadn't promised not to do it under any circumstances.
The younger AI sighed and regarded the wall between him and Karr with a sad feeling. He knew how much Alex meant to Nick, how much even Karr felt for the geologist. What had happened had hit everyone like a lead ball into the face. That it had been an intentional hit, that someone was trying to get to Nick, had been even more frightening. It showed just how vulnerable they all were. Bonnie was in the same position and she had had to suffer because of it in the past as well. Though no one had ever taken a shot at her.
Alex was stable, the only good news lately, and Kitt was keeping an eye on the hospital reports as well. Michael was visiting as often as possible while trying his best to stall the case they had been assigned the day Alex had been shot. Devon was understanding, but the client had made an urgent request. Michael had previewed everything, then spent the long waiting hours throughout Alex's surgery reading the files. He had started on the case but had yet to make a physical appearance at the client's place. It had to wait. Just a little longer.

* * *

Nick slid down the wall to sit with his head resting on his folded arms, his elbows on his knees. His hand opened and the gun clattered to the ground, a loud noise in the otherwise suddenly very silent house. It was over. Karr was just outside the barrier he still held erect with the last power reserves.
Nick?> he whispered.
No, he couldn't. He had to hold on. He didn't want to let Karr into the pit where the demons were still raging. His partner had faced many of them, but Nick wasn't ready to let go just yet. The dark specter that had haunted him for days was not going away easily, not even after he had taken down the one who had hurt him more than any physical wound could ever do.
Shawna Winterchild lay not far away, still breathing, still alive, but a bullet was lodged in her right shoulder and her left side. She was losing blood and he had no strength or intention to use the phone to call for help. Most likely some neighbors or passers-by had already alarmed the police of the shooting.
They are coming> Karr informed him, making the suspicion a fact. You might want to leave>
Nick raised his head, taking a shuddering breath. Yes, he might. After two seconds he pushed himself up, picked up his weapon and left the house, never looking back. He didn't care if she lived or died. Death was preferable, but if she survived, the information he had mailed the police along with all the evidence they needed to ID her as Alex's shooter would imprison her for life.
It was over.
Sinking into the dark leather seats of the Stealth, he watched as the first police cruiser pulled up, closely followed by an ambulance. Somehow it all seemed to happen in another world. Usually, he would leave and never think about what he had just done, but this was different. This was personal and despite the fact that he had just exacted revenge, there was no feeling of triumph or satisfaction in him. Just like when he had worked for Nash. No feelings. Just emptiness.
Nick leaned his head back and swallowed heavily. But this wasn't the same. He felt it. This was an emptiness brought on by weariness, by riding the emotional wave on overdrive without having a vent. Karr approached the link and Nick shivered.
Let me?>
Can't> Nick whispered.
She's my friend, too. We both feel the same way>
Yes, they did.
Let's go> Nick said after another ten seconds had passed, not trusting his voice.

* * *

There was a new fluctuation that immediately drew Kitt's attention. He watched the private link and suddenly the walls between them opened. Karr appeared tired, the black spark of life energy rippling here and there. Kitt approached carefully, stretching out one tendril of light and feeling Karr accept it.
_It's over
Kitt shivered. It sounded like their worst expectations had come true. _She's dead?
_No, but she might not survive. Nick said he wouldn't kill her, but she holed up for a long time, despite the gunshot wounds. She's currently on her way to a hospital
_I'm sorry it had to happen, Karr
_Which part? came a sigh.
_All
_Don't feel sorry for her. She nearly killed Alex
Anger flooded through the connection and Kitt smiled as he read a few more, much gentler emotions Karr held for the geologist. Kitt was infinitely glad that Alex was recovering. Not only did he like her a lot, not only did he cherish human life, he was also aware of what her death would have unleashed. He shivered at the thought. Nick protected those he loved; closely; fiercely.
_I know. But she is a human being and even though she is a bad person, I hate to see people die
Karr regarded him and rumbled softly. _Can't beat the programming, he remarked roughly.
_No, I can't accept that death is the only solution
There was silence in the other ends, the shivers still repeating themselves, but the intervals had grown longer.
_Are you coming here? Kitt asked after a while.
_Nick has some clean-up work to do, then we'll come
_Good. I think Alex will be happy to see you both.
Something rippled through the connection and Kitt caught the smile just before Karr once more retreated. He mirrored it.

* * *

Almost a week had passed since the incident, Alex mused, staring at the white ceiling. Michael and Bonnie had dropped in frequently, and once Nick had been in. Just before she had dropped off to sleep because of the pain-killers she was still given. He was as elusive as always. Michael had evaded a direct answer but had finally told her that he was after the person responsible for shooting her. Alex wasn't really surprised. It was Nick's style. She closed her eyes. Still, there was something else and she wanted to know what. Calling Karr from the bedside phone hadn't given her much more insight. It had actually exhausted her to a point where the AI had told her to hang up before he did it and get some sleep. Like pulling worms, she thought sourly.
He came to visit on day seven. It was Tuesday, the sun was out from behind a massive cover of clouds for now, and Alex was counting the hours until she would get out of this accursed room. While she had always smiled at Nick's rants about boring hospitals and had told him that it was for the best, that he shouldn't run off at the first possible moment, she now started to understand. It was boring and she couldn't go anywhere without a nurse, which was by far worse than the boredom. Alex was a very independent woman and having someone else ferry her around in a wheelchair or hold out a bedpan was very disgracing.
When the door had closed after Nick, Alex opened her eyes and turned her head. She knew it had to be him. The doctors announced their visit and neither Michael nor Bonnie could sneak around almost soundlessly.
"Hey," she said. "Nice of you to drop by and give me the social call." She smiled. "I was growing tired of having to dial up Karr to check on how you are."
Nick approached the bed and kissed her, but Alex felt the tension almost radiate off him. "How are you?" he asked the dumbest, but also most obvious question that came to mind.
"Well, I've a hole in my body, I lost enough blood to feed a bunch of vampires and they pumped me full of so many drugs I can't even tell if I'm hallucinating that guilt in your face or not, but else I'm fine." She raised an eyebrow. "Where have you been the last few days?"
"I was… busy."
She could read it in his voice. "That kind of busy. Uh-hm."
"I'm sorry about what happened, Alex."
Her eyes narrowed as she looked at him. She was used to him not answering questions he didn't like when she first asked, but Nick apologizing? Nicholas MacKenzie? The man who rarely opened up more than an oyster and clamped down equally hard on his emotions?
"You know what you just said? You apologized….." She knew there was almost awe in her voice. "It was an accident!"
He walked over to the window, looking at the park. "It wasn't. Someone sought you out as a target to hurt me." It sounded all so matter of fact.
Alex blinked. She had been the intentional target? "Who?"
"Shawna Winterchild."
"Why?"
"She had a… grudge."
"Must have been one hell of a big one."
"I killed her brother."
"Okay. Qualifies."
Nick turned and gave her a serious look. "Because of your involvement with me, you became a target."
Alex ran that sentence through her head once more. "My involvement?" It sounded wrong to call this relationship 'involvement', but it was Nick's way of handling it in his mind. She was an 'associate', an 'ally' maybe, and it hurt to think of it this way. "I understand."
"Alex." Nick's voice had softened. "It's not like that. I meant… our relationship." He inhaled slightly. "I'm not used to this," he muttered and made a vague gesture.
"And I'm not used to you feeling guilty over anything, Nick," she told him. "It's not your fault that some crazy woman shoots at me, even if you know her."
"I am responsible. I'm a liability to you, to everyone I know, Alex."
"So you want to end it?"
The words were out of her mouth before she could stop herself. Alex felt shock course through her at her own words, though she had only voiced exactly what she had thought, the fear she had felt flared up. Nick's eyes widened, his head came up and he stared at her in a mix of confusion, anger, fear and pain. The emotions shot over his face, lingered momentarily in his eyes, then disappeared like wiped off a piece of slate. He didn't say anything. If he wanted to leave her, end their relationship, there was nothing she could do, but she thought she knew him better. Hopefully. As little as they saw each other sometimes, she had grown used to this variable constant in her life.
"I won't leave," Nick suddenly said, breaching the silence.
Alex felt something inside of her loosen. "Then do me a favor?" she asked softly. "Get off that guilt trip right now? You're not to blame for this. It's not your fault."
"And you need to stop talking and get some rest."
He could also have said 'end of dicussion' because that was what it meant. Alex looked into his eyes, trying to determine the guilt level. It was hard because Nick was now shielding his emotions, but she thought she could pretty much see that it was still high.
"Not until you say it. It's not your . . . fault."
"It wasn't my fault," Nick lied.
"Don't lie to me, MacKenzie." Despite her exhaustion, the annoyance gave her another boost. Nick dropped his eyes and Alex felt like cuffing him over the head. "What happened to Shawna Winterchild?" she finally asked, changing the subject. They would have time for the guilt trip later on, when she felt stronger and wasn't lying helplessly in a hospital bed.
"She died on the way to a hospital," was the brisk reply. It told her everything she had to know.
"Nick…..?" Alex held out one hand, asking him to come over.
He carefully walked over to her and stopped at her bedside. She gazed intently at him, a slight curl of fear in her stomach. He appeared passive somehow, as if something else was troubling him. It had taken her years to learn to read his unreadable face, but she had mastered it to some degree. She decided not to pry any further. Right now there was no chance of success.
"I'll be out of here the day after tomorrow if Morrison gives his okay," she told him.
"I'll be here to pick you up."
Alex took his hand, squeezing it. "Thanks." She tugged gently at the hand and he allowed himself to be pulled toward her.

* * *

Karr sat in the car park of the hospital, monitoring his driver without intervening. He didn't say a word, didn't send any impulses, just watched and waited. This was something both humans had to deal with. He, as an AI, had no real grasp of the matter. He knew guilt, had felt it before, and he knew Nick was entitled to go through the whole emotional range. He also realized that Alex was currently the best person to deal with these occasional spurts of emotions for now. Nick was his partner, linked to him more closely than anyone could ever fathom, but this was a matter Karr wouldn't handle for now.
The only problem was the lie still resting undiscovered between Nick and Alex. He hadn't told her about the pregnancy. He had actually hacked into the medical database and patient file, erasing all traces from her records. Morrison knew, as did Gerber, but Alex was just one of hundreds of patients each month. They would forget. Whatever records were transferred to others doctors or therapists, the fact that Alex had lost a child she hadn't been aware of had been purged. Karr had no idea what to feel concerning that fact. He had no idea how to deal with it, so he followed Nick's example and didn't bring it to the surface. No one knew except them and two doctors.
Not even Kitt or Michael.

* * *

The park was crowded with children on the sunny day. The distant sound of a radio could be heard from almost any point. Children ran rampant, playing on the merry-go-round, sliding down the slides, swinging on the swings. It was in a nice part of town. Several parents stood by watching over their young ones. A couple of clowns and a juggler were entertaining various groups of children. One of the clowns was handing out candy.
Almost two months had passed. Alex was back to work after weeks of physical therapy and three sessions with a psychologist. She had told the woman right away that she didn't feel like a victim because of the incident and had canceled further appointments. Alex had decided that the therapy she was undergoing at home was much better: talk to friends. Especially to those who knew what it meant. She had spent hours with Bonnie, just talking, reliving her fear and letting it all out. Michael had an open ear, just like Kitt, and she had found an unlikely but not unexpected listener in Karr. Nick was always there, each night she had had the nightmares, and because she talked about it, she felt better. She knew this had hit him just as badly as herself. But life went on. A scar was the only visible reminder of what had occurred.
Alex leaned against the windshield of the Stealth, soaking up the sun. It had come as a surprise when Karr had shown up on her doorstep, asking her out. She had to laugh a little. Nick hadn't been there and the AI had simply asked if she had time and wouldn't mind spending it with him. So now they were here, parked as close to the edge of the park as Karr could without being threatened to be towed, and Alex had hopped onto the hood.
"Feeling okay?" she wanted to know.
"Perfectly."
"Want to tell me where Nick is?"
"He and Bear met for a discussion about further upgrading my shell."
She smiled, running a hand over the smooth, black skin. She always marveled how the MBS gave the finish such a soft feeling while at the same time making it almost unbreakable.
"So you got bored and decided to see if I needed relief from my boredom at home?"
Karr rumbled something and she chuckled. "I thought you might want some company."
"So this is a date?"
"Affirmative," Karr answered and she thought she detected a smile in the dark voice.
"Hope Nick's not the jealous type," she chuckled.
"He doesn't have to know….."
"Are you trying to make a pass on my girl or is this friendly conversation?"
The voice startled Alex and she threw Nick a dirty look. The man moved with more silence than anyone she had ever met! He grinned and stole a kiss, which she willingly gave him.
"Your girl?" she echoed. "Claiming ownership?"
He chuckled. "Would I ever?"
Alex slid her legs off Karr's hood, letting them swing over the driver side front wheel. "I thought you were busy?"
"Didn't take as long as I thought." He nodded at the bike. "I thought I might take her for a ride before Bear sells her out of pity." He held up a second helmet, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "May I invite Your Ladyship for a ride?"
She slid off the hood and curtsied. "Only if my chaperone agrees."
They both looked at Karr. The Stealth rumbled softly.
"Behave," was all he said.
Alex laughed and Nick smiled. It was clear that there was something happening through the link, but Alex wouldn't pry. She simply swung up onto the bike behind Nick and held on to him as he drove off. She didn't care where to.

Will you ever tell her?>
Not if I can help it>
Karr thought it over as he drove, alone, back to the warehouse. Wasn't it her child as well?>
Pain washed over him, emotional pain coming from his driver. It was a new sensation, not as harsh as physical echos from wounds or emotional blasts like rage or despair. It was grief. Nick had never really felt it before.
Yes, it was> he answered softly.
Then why keep it from her?>
She has enough to deal with, Karr>
Alex is a very strong woman> the AI reminded him.
I know that only too well>
Karr waited, but nothing else came forth. Nick was closing up on the subject again and Karr wasn't about to pry any more. He respected his partner's decision, even though he couldn't understand it. He might never.