"IN PULLUS VERITAS"

(IN CHICKEN, TRUTH)

Author: Gillian Slater

E-mail: LeoricGS@aol.com

Rating: PG -13

Disclaimer: As always, these characters do not belong to me, they are the property of the show's creators, and I'm borrowing them for my own sinister purposes...

PART EIGHT

ONE MONTH LATER

Michael's stomach clenched with excitement as he and Dr. Morris walked down the stairs to the front door. The doorbell had only sounded once before, and Michael felt certain it was the same person ringing it now.

Morris made Michael turn his back as he punched in the three-digit code for the doorlock and then opened the door to Lisa's smiling face.

"Mrs. Wiseman this is a secret government facility," The doctor reminded her sternly before Michael had a chance to speak, "And as such should not be visited by the widow of our genetic prototype."

Lisa ignored Morris' warning completely and spoke directly to her husband as though the doctor were not even there.

"Michael, I need to talk to you."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, no. It's just... something I wanted to say..." she looked pointedly at Morris, "Just to you. Will you meet me?" Morris looked incredulous at hearing the two of them conspiring blatantly in front of his face.

"There will be NO meeting, Mrs. Wiseman, because I have not given my permission, nor am I likely to."

"It's okay, doc', I can always break out." Michael quipped casually, watching in amusement as the doctor's face became more and more enraged.

"Where? When?" He asked, turning back to Lisa.

She cast a furtive glance at Morris, then replied cryptically, "You remember our third anniversary?" Michael nodded, and a smile crept over his face.

"Same time, same place. I'll be there." Then, suddenly, before Morris could object, she leaned forward and gave her husband a brief, passionate kiss, then grinned defiantly at the fuming scientist and walked away.

Morris stared hard at Michael as he closed the door with a contented smile on his face.

"You're not going." Michael continued to smile, and Morris huffed in anger and stalked away.

* * * * *

"Why don't you tell me where she'll be and I'll go on your behalf. Rest assured, I will pass on her message..."

Michael ignored the doctor's umpteenth similar plea and continued to bench press.

"Suit yourself," Morris shrugged, "But you remember how angry she was last time you stood her up? And this is no dinner date. From the tone of her voice, I'd say it's important news she has to tell..."

"If it's... that important.... she wouldn't... tell you." Michael said between lifts.

"That's too bad. Enough of that now. Hit the shower."

"What, no treadmill? Boy, aren't you being Dr. Benevolent this morning?" Michael eyed Morris suspiciously, but wiped a nearby cloth across his forehead and headed for the bedroom.

At the doorway he was suddenly ambushed. Morris looked on with a smug grin as six muscle-bound security guards manhandled the desperately squirming Michael onto his bed and ran chains across him, each ending in heavy metal shackles which were quickly attached to his wrists and ankles.

Michael glared daggers at the smirking doctor. "And where'd you get these? Your friendly neighbourhood torture equipment suppliers?"

"These chains are made of titanium - special order. They're five times as thick as anything you've broken before," Morris informed his struggling prisoner casually, "So, unless you're planning on taking the bed with you to meet your wife, you're going to have to leave her standing there. Again." He paused for dramatic effect. "Or... you could tell me where and when and at least let me go hear what she has to say. It's fairer to her that way."

Michael let out a low growl of futile anger as he gave up struggling. Slowly, his expression went from fury to defeat, and then was consumed in a faraway look of nostalgia.

"Our third anniversary," he reminisced, more to himself than for Morris' benefit, "Was supposed to be this whole evening of fun we had planned. I was gonna meet Lisie after work at José's and we'd go on from there..."

"José's?"

"Never made it. An insurance guy's work is never done so... I was two and a half hours late. By the time I got there she was gone. A waiter told me she'd waited two hours, but finally gave up and left. I was amazed she'd stayed that long. So, we both spent our evening wandering the city looking for each other, trying to figure out where either of us would go . It got to about midnight and I wound up standing at one end of the Brooklyn Heights Promenade and I looked across and saw her stood at the other end. Huh, Lisa always used to say that fate put us both on the same bridge at the same time so as not to spoil our anniversary."

"So, that's the meeting point? Brooklyn Heights at midnight?"

"I'd guess so." He sighed in defeat. As Morris turned to go, he added, "Doc'... tell her... tell her 'Happy Anniversary'."

Morris nodded in dawning realisation and sympathy. "I will, Mr. Wiseman, I will."

* * * * *

Lisa stood gazing out at the water, watching the bright lights of the city skyline dance in its gently rippling surface. She closed her eyes, letting her mind drift back to that night. It had started badly, but as the city clock chimed midnight fate intervened on the lovers' behalf and things had taken a definite upturn.

She imagined Michael coming quietly up behind her now, slipping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. His lips claimed that spot on the back of her neck where she loved to be kissed, and the cool night breeze tingled the flesh where he touched her. Strangely, though, it was Michael's new, youthful face which appeared in her mind's eye now. Her husband, reborn and renewed was somehow more exciting to her now, now that her previous feelings of guilt about the mysterious 'Mr. Newman' and his effect on her had been lifted.

She was shaken abruptly from her gentle fantasy by a deep throated cough. Turning, she looked into the ever-stern face of Dr. Theodore Morris and let out a long sigh of disappointment. It was this man who ruled Michael's life now.

"Why am I even surprised...?"

"Mr. Wiseman is a little tied up at the moment..." he began to explain, then smirked a little, "...Actually a little chained up... but if you want to tell me whatever you have to say I'll be sure to pass it on to him."

"Forgive me Doctor," Lisa replied, her tone turning a little frosty, "But what I have to say is for my husband only."

"Your husband is dead, Mrs. Wiseman, and as such can no longer be contacted except through me. There's nothing he knows that doesn't come to me first."

Lisa made no attempt to reply, but went back to staring out at the water with the same faraway expression as earlier.

"He's not coming, Mrs. Wiseman. He's safely locked away, so if you won't talk to me then you might as well go home." Morris knew she didn't hear him. He saw the vacant look in her eyes and recognised it as the very same look that appeared in Michael's eyes so frequently.

He had to grudgingly admit, even though this kind of dreamy romantic indulgence was detrimental to his project and to Mr. Wiseman's focus, that there was something very touching in their devotion to each other. Morris had never been married, nor even in a relationship that could be called serious, but since he'd been witness to the fierceness of Michael's love for his wife and daughter, he began to wish he'd made time in his career-driven life to find that kind of happiness. Playing a major role in their enforced separation occasionally evoked feelings of regret in the doctor, and this was one of those times. He was a steadfast scientist, thinking of nothing but his work, but right now he wished he didn't have to be.

"I guess I'll just leave you alone for now, then," Morris said softly with more understanding in his voice that Lisa had heard before, "But, well, Mr. Wiseman wanted to wish you a Happy Anniversary." Lisa did not turn, but smiled her thanks softly as the doctor moved quietly away and got into the black limousine, ordering the driver back to the townhouse.

Lisa's gaze did not shift as the car pulled away, her mind once again immersed in the contemplation of her and her husband's unusual relationship.

"Hey, has he gone?" A voice hissed from somewhere beneath her.

"Huh?"

"The doc'. Is he gone?"

"Michael? Is that you?"

"Yeah." Some brief grunting noises issued from below, then Michael appeared from the underside of the bridge, clawing his way up to the railings and vaulting agilely over them to land softly next to his bewildered wife.

"I thought he'd never leave."

"Have... have you been down there the whole time?"

"Sure, I arrived just before he did." Seeing the look of amazement on her face, he added,

"Well, I don't have to deal with New York traffic."

"But, he said you were chained up. 'Safely locked away' he told me."

"Well, locked and chained, yeah, but not safely." Michael quipped.

Lisa smiled widely and threw her arms around him. He hugged her back with equal fervour, then pulled back and produced a single, delicate white rose from inside his coat. After a summary glance to make sure it was intact he presented the obviously hand-picked rose to his wife saying, "Happy Anniversary, honey. Sorry, it's the best I could do at short notice."

She dismissed his apology with a wave. "Oh, I love it." Her face beamed as she cradled the rose in her hands, and her expression became whimsical.

"I'm afraid you might have to wait a while for your present. It's... still in the making." She said cryptically. Michael shrugged casually then coughed delicately.

"Lisie, I... I wish I could stay with you all night, but... the doc'll be getting back to my place any time now and as soon as he finds out I escaped he'll head straight back here. You said you needed to talk?"

"Well, when I say your present's 'in the making', I mean it'll probably take around eight more months or so before I can give it to you..." She looked up at her husband, her eyes full of meaning.

Michael opened his mouth to ask what she was talking about when the implication struck. The sound of his quick, indrawn breath was hardly more than a whisper, but to Michael it sounded like a roar in the hushed stillness of the night air.

"Eight months?! So... by that you mean...? Oh, man... you're saying...?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying." Michael ran a hand quickly through his short hair.

"But how? When...?"

"Oh, come on, your memory can't be that bad! We were together just last month."

"Just one night..." Michael's mind flew briefly back to that magical night. At the time he felt it would never end, but now it seemed all too long ago.

"Is all it takes." Lisa finished the sentence for him. Her face took on a concerned expression, "Michael are you okay with this? I mean, with your new situation I can see how it'd be a problem for you..."

Her worries were quickly banished as Michael suddenly embraced her and kissed her with such ardour she began to wonder how she'd ever survived all those nights without him.

"Lisie... oh, Lisie, thank you..." He whispered repeatedly between desperate kisses. "A baby... another baby, Lisie..."

"I know... I know."

When he finally pulled back and looked into her adoring face he was breathless with sheer happiness and they stared at each other for several minutes, sharing their joy. As the city clock chimed fifteen after the hour, however, possible complications began to intrude on the moment and Michael's face registered his concern.

"Listen, does anyone else know about this?"

"Heather knows."

"Heather!?"

"Well, recently she's picked up a really bad habit of rooting through my things. She found the box of my test-kit and demanded to know the truth."

"How'd she take it?"

"Oh, she's thrilled. I think she's already started making out name-lists!"

Michael smiled. "A father of two -- who'd have believed it?"

"That's a good point. You don't look old enough to have two children, especially one of Heather's age. Y'know, I could have a hard time explaining a second pregnancy after my husband's... died."

"Well, it'll be a while yet before you come under suspicion I think. Have you been to see a doctor yet?"

"Yeah, as soon as I found out. I didn't go to Dr. Melbourne - he's known us all too long and, well, I didn't want him to think I'd run off with someone else..."

"Makes sense." Michael agreed.

"Anyway, I have another check-up at the hospital next week, and at four months I get an ultrasound scan. I was wondering... will you be able to come with me for that?"

"I'll be there," Michael replied with assurance, "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"That's if you can get away from your keeper again. The chains will be stronger next time, no doubt. Are you... going to tell Dr. Morris?"

"Are you kidding? Considering I wasn't supposed to have any contact with anyone from my former life - under pain of death - I don't think his majesty would take too kindly to the fact that I got you pregnant!"

"Okay, so don't tell him right away, but, well, I'm fairly sure that he keeps an eye on my general activities. Sooner or later he'll find out himself, especially when I start to look a lot larger in the stomach area! What I'm trying to say is, I think it'd be better coming from you, volunteered, before he learns about it another way. Let's face it, he's practically your foster-father."

Michael nodded, giving in as he invariably did to her point of view. A wicked gleam came into his eye then. "Sure I'll tell him, but I might have to make the good doctor work for his treats. I'm thinking it'll drive him crazy not knowing..."

"Michael Wiseman! I'd no idea you had such a cruel streak!" Lisa feigned a look of shock and then joined in Michael's laughter.

"Yeah, well, if he can make me work out full time and eat lettuce, I think a little revenge is in order." They smiled and smirked at each other conspiratorially.

"There's another thing to think about, though," Lisa said, her tone becoming more serious, "Sometime before, y'know... I'd like to talk to Dr. Morris. I have a lot of questions - genetics-type questions. More than anything I'd like to know how this is possible in the first place. It's my understanding that you're..." she trailed off, searching for the right word.

"Synthetic? Artificial? Not the genuine article?"

"You know what I mean. Also, how will your genes affect the baby? You were designed to be strong and fast and stuff, but does it mean our child will be outrunning cars and climbing towers?"

Michael spread his hands. "I honestly don't know. I guess you're right - the doc' might be able to give us some answers, but... be prepared. You know as well as anyone what a control freak he is. He'll take over your case, right up until you have the baby, and probably afterward, too."

"I accept that. And I know he's... uptight, but I don't believe he's such a monster. He makes threats about Heather and me, but on the other hand he's saved our lives more than once, and there's plenty of proof that he values you for more than just your DNA. He knows what we mean to you, Michael, and he knows if anything happened to us you'd be AWOL in a second. I think he'll be willing to help if only to keep you on his side."

"Okay, okay, you win. I'll tell him in a while... just let me have my fun first!" Lisa grinned wickedly and gave a permissive nod.

All thoughts of the doctor were discarded then, as Michael embraced her once more, spreading a hand gently over her still-flat abdomen.

"You take it easy now," he whispered against her neck, "Don't want to upset junior with too much hard work, huh?"

"Real estate isn't exactly strenuous, Michael. Anyway, I've got eight months left to go. I can't just sit on my ass for that length of time. I'll go crazy with boredom."

"Well, I could... y'know... entertain you from time to time..." He held her tighter and put his lips to that special place on her neck.

"I think not, Mr. Wiseman." They both turned to see Dr. Morris emerging from the limousine, his scowl somehow fiercer than usual. He looked pointedly at his subject.

"You broke the chains - titanium chains." He accused.

"Yep. Aren't you proud of me?"

"If I'd asked you to break them, I'd be jumping right now, but breaking out to meet your wife when I'd expressly forbidden it..."

"Well, at least I didn't take off to Philadelphia or somewhere, huh? Shows I'm learning. I waited here like a good little lab rat for you to come re-cage me."

"And that's precisely what I'm going to do. Come, Mr. Wiseman. NOW." Michael slumped his shoulders in submission and turned back to Lisa.

"Looks like it's back to jail for the escapee," He leaned in to give his wife a lingering kiss, whispering almost inaudibly in her ear, "Three months time... I'll be there. Look after yourself, huh, and the children."

She clung to him briefly then released him to the scowling doctor, who watched in mute ire as Michael boarded the limo.

* * * * *